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wallwriterstuff · 3 years

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The Good I Come Home To ||Leon S. Kennedy x Female!Reader|| Part 1

Warnings: Angsty, PTSD Leon being very jumpy and shell-shocked, mentions of sex.

Words: 3318

Summary: Originally posted to my Archive of Our Own Account.

Part 2 can be found here

Leon has kept it very casual with you for months, seemingly oblivious of the growing feelings you harbour. You have no idea just how badly it hurts him to leave you every time until he tries to cut you out of his life completely. You have other ideas. You just have to persuade Leon they're the right ones.

Leon S. Kennedy was a complicated man in many respects, but it was easy to unravel all those complex layers if you started looking at his core values, his sense of purpose. To serve, to protect. Leon was built to be the bodyguard of humanity, the first line of defence between unimaginable horror and the things he loved. Every experience had moulded him into this hard shell of a man, so far from the one people used to know. It had been interesting, really, to see an old friend from the Police Academy approach him and see just how different they had turned out. They both had the eyes of experience anybody in the force acquired over time, but Leon’s were sterner, like an unbreakable stone as opposed to ice you could chip away at and eventually shatter. This old friend of his had a small-town job and apple pie life. He had the white picket fence and the wife who kissed him when he came home to freshly made dinner. His children were doing well at school.

Leon had listened like his life was a whole other world away. It was visible in his eyes, though he carefully kept it off his face, that the comparison between each man actually disturbed him. You hadn’t meant to see of course. It was pure coincidence you’d happened to be in the supermarket, walking down that same aisle. His old friend had hit the barricade you so often hit when you asked. You’d stopped questioning it after a few months of back and forth and the looming threat of losing him became a dark and unbearable burden.

“So er, heard about the huge explosion at Raccoon. Where’d they place you after that?”

“Nowhere. I work for the government now.”

“Oh damn. FBI?”

“Something like that.”

His job was the complicated topic. Classified and bad enough to put a certain brand of darkness behind his eyes when you asked, it was best left untouched by your hands because it was hidden beneath the many layers of the man you’d only ever been allowed to scratch the surface of – literally and figuratively. Beyond his core values, the simplicity of Leon S. Kennedy lay in his needs. He was a flesh and blood man after all. He was guaranteed to need to eat, to do laundry, to shower, to relieve himself. These simple needs were what made him somewhat predictable to you. On his best days, when he text you days or hours before, you were almost guaranteed to be wined and dined. Okay so the wine and dine option was sometimes more like beer and take-out pizza but it was always paid for by him if you bought the alcohol.

When he was feeling a little less than okay, you’d get no outright statement of his desire to see you, but he’d hedge around the topic and wait for you to ask him, like he was afraid to be a nuisance. You’d only get this awkward and prompting behaviour from him an hour or two before he showed up which left you little time to prepare, but a quick shower was always on the cards. In his worst moments, he’d give no warning and simply show up at your house with smouldering eyes that demanded your attention and everything else you had to give him. God help you, you always gave him everything. As simple as his needs were, as his feelings on the matter appeared, yours were much more complicated. Leon S. Kennedy had made it clear from the start when he met you at the bar that fateful night, all chiselled jaw and playful eyes, that nothing serious was to come of this.

It had progressed to a proper agreement when you both seemed to just keep running into each other. You were free to date, if you so pleased, and he’d stop showing up. He’d be gone like dust in the wind, untraceable and impossible to bring back. You didn’t want that. Until the day either of you became tied down you had agreed you were exclusive. You sated each other only. It was hard to keep to that promise all the time when he was away for long periods, but you remained true to your word anyway, and that was how it had stayed for a solid eight months. Leon came back to a bed you kept free just for him and left in the morning like it was no more than a pit-stop on a long and winding road.

You suspected he wasn’t proud of it. You thought sometimes you could see something softer in his eyes, something that made you think he wished for something more than he was already giving you. There were moments his eyes lingered when he said goodbye, times his hands stayed on you a little longer than they usually did. On rare occasions, when he was just a bit too drunk after what you guessed was a bad job, you let him sleep it off with his arms around you and listened to the whimpers in his sleep with an aching heart. Leon consistently let you have his body, gave you the briefest glimpses at the big heart he held so carefully hidden away, but never once did he let you into his mind. As much as you loved being with him, you had never truly been with him at all. You’d never truly connected with him beyond anything physical. It pained you to know you never would. You cared for him too much. You saw the deep pain he carried with him everywhere, and you’d never be able to alleviate that load because he wouldn’t let you.

You had to pause the TV to be sure you’d actually heard anything at all, but when you heard the noise again it was stronger, bolder. Knocking. Glancing at the clock, you turned the TV off with a frown. There weren’t many people who would come knocking at this late hour, and you didn’t know if your heart was in it tonight to let him in when he would forever keep you out. As if on cue, when you opened the door to a dripping wet Leon, thunder rumbled and rattled the open window in the corridor of your apartment block. A small puddle of water had formed on the windowsill, dripping in as the harsh rain battered the glass. Leaving your door propped with the door stop you kept nearby for moments like these, you crossed to the window to close it and lock out the weather. You felt sullen enough without the storm clouds invading your house.

“Leon if you’re here to drink that’s okay but I’m not really up for-“ you cut yourself off, uncertain all of a sudden as to what it was he was here for. His needs were always so simple, the looks and actions associated with them something you had come to learn to recognise without much conscious thought. This was entirely new. Those piercing blue eyes were sullen, fighting between being as hard as sapphire and as soft as calm ocean waves. What was frightening was the depth of the ocean you saw. It was like staring into an abyss of torment. Red-ringed and with whisky on his breath, it didn’t take a genius to realise Leon had been crying and was in fairly bad shape. Hair soaked and plastered to his forehead, he stared at you through those horribly complex eyes, his mouth half open like he wanted to say something but couldn’t force the words out. He was pale, breaths even but heavy, like he had to physically remind himself to huff out each one.

Wordlessly, you took him by the hand. His skin was freezing to the touch and you guessed the faithful jacket had done little to keep the bitter cold from seeping into his exposed skin. Your theory was proven right when his cheeks were just as cold to the touch.

“I…” you thought he might say more but it was like watching a caveman learn to talk. There were only sounds, no words. He was usually very skilful with his tongue but tonight those talents were nowhere to be found. Pushing his jacket from his shoulders you hung it to dry over the back of your sofa, hoping the radiator would do its job and leave it toasty for him when he inevitably put it on to leave you again. You ignored the stinging in your chest at the thought. Leon didn’t need you to be petty right now. Truthfully, you were frightened. Leon’s carefully constructed composure had been shattered by something and you didn’t think you wanted to know what was strong enough to shatter this man’s rock hard exterior and cut him so deeply. He stood dumbly in your hallway, and you gently pushed him to the edge of the sofa to take off his shoes so they wouldn’t traipse water into your home.

“Shhh Leon, just come with me.” You coaxed him back onto socked feet, leading him down the hall to your bathroom.

“No…no Y/N I, I don’t…” he swallowed.

“Do you trust me Leon?” you asked him, keeping your voice gentle like you were cajoling a wild animal into eating from your palm. Leon nodded without question and you smiled slightly. “Then just follow for me now.” You kicked open your door and led him to the edge of the tub, grabbing a towel from the shelving units there and placing it on the sink.

“What are you doing?” he could barely speak above a whisper, looking confused and upset and lost all at once.

“I’m going to run you a nice hot bath before you catch your death. I don’t know how long you were in the rain for Leon but you’re frozen to the bone.” You said calmly, putting the plug in the tub and turning on the tap for the hot water. Leon didn’t answer, merely watched you with the eyes of a man so lost in trauma he couldn’t find his way back to the surface world and make sense of the happenings around him. While you waited for the water to turn steamy, you rubbed at his hair with the towel in your hand to dry it. You knew something was incredibly wrong when he let you mess it up like that. There were very few instances you were allowed to touch his hair and you had to always, always comb it back into place or suffer the consequences. Occasionally, you took a break to fill the tub with some of your prized bath oils. Lavender, camomile, jasmine, all your favourite scents from a beautiful kit a colleague had bought you as part of secret Santa last year.

He didn’t comment as the room filled with intoxicating, relaxing scents, nor when you checked the temperature again and told him he could get in when he was ready. He held the towel in both hands, staring at the cotton as if it might hold some answers.

“Thank you.” He mumbled. You nodded once.

“Have you eaten anything yet?” you asked him. He nodded once, but he didn’t meet your gaze. He was lying you were sure. “Okay. Take as long as you need in here, I’ll be about when you feel ready to see me alright?” you promised, leaning up to kiss his cheek softly. Your lips lingered a little too long, but Leon didn’t move away. He closed his eyes as if the contact was all he had wanted and more. As the door closed behind you you heard the soft, muffled sob he tried so hard to bury in the towel, and your heart broke a little more. Something had shattered Leon S. Kennedy and it didn’t sit well with you at all to see him this vulnerable. He needed the space right now to get his mind back in order but once he did, when he was ready to face you, you weren’t sure you’d get an explanation from him. He’d shut down every time you’d ever asked for one before.

He’d woken screaming one night, lashing out so violently that if you had been sat upright there’d have been no way to avoid his fist and he’d have knocked you out cold. When you tried to ask what was wrong, he’d simply snapped at you to leave him be and left your apartment so fast there could have been a fire under his ass. So, what did you do? Did you just not even try? He hadn’t made a move on you, had specifically said no when he saw you heading in the direction of the bedroom. But if he wasn’t here for sex what was he here for? It only added to your anxiety that you really had no clue what he wanted if it wasn’t your body he’d come for, and though part of you thought that should make you angry, another part of you hoped that that meant it was something more that he was after this time. The kind of more you wanted.

No. You had to try for him. You couldn’t let him go on like this. He didn’t have to fight the war in his head alone, not when you were here. At least, if he wanted to go it alone, he could have someone stable waiting with a safety net if he stumbled. For now you’d let him linger and soak in the tub, and you’d make the most out of the ingredients you had in the fridge. If he stayed, he could eat it off a plate. If he didn’t…well, you’d make some in a container in case. Pasta bake had always been your father’s speciality and it had been your favourite as a child, was still your comfort food now. Chicken and bacon sizzled, pasta boiled, and you grated the cheese to the rhythm of your favourite song playing softly on the radio while the milk and butter warmed on the stove. You snagged a piece of bacon from the wok and let the salty flavour burn your tongue.

With your masterpiece constructed and more cheese grated on top, you slid the dish into the oven for it to crisp up and set your timer, setting about washing the utensils next. It kept your hands busy, kept your mind from wandering too much, but even the sudsy water couldn’t quite keep your mind from ticking over. Why had Leon come here in the pouring rain? What had spooked him so badly he’d thought, in his less than coherent state, that he needed to be here in your apartment? Did the fact he’d come to you mean anything at all or did he just happen to be nearby? You put the saucepan a little harder than necessary into the rack when it slipped from your hands, jumping and cursing to yourself at the loud clang it had made.

“Y/N!” Leon almost roared your name in pure, abject terror. Eyes wide you rushed for the bathroom, hands still soapy and dripping water. He was already out of the bathtub, naked and scrambling through his jacket until he came up with a gun of all things, aimed right at you as you burst through the door. A shriek escaped you and you immediately dropped to the floor, hands above your head.

“Leon it’s me!” you begged. Harsh breathing filled the room.

“Where is it?” he demanded. You peeked up at him from below your arms, lowering them slowly. He was half-crouched, eyes wild and fixated on the door that led back to your room. He offered you a hand. “Come on, get up and get behind me, where is it?” he repeated the question more firmly now.

“Where’s what? Leon I – there’s only us here. I just dropped a saucepan.” You breathed. His expression faltered, confusion flooding his features first , then guilt, and finally grief. His eyes closed and he inhaled deeply, held it, exhaled slowly. He lowered his gun after a few more deep breaths.

“I’m sorry.” He said, looking a little like a kicked puppy. You shook your head, slowly pushing to your feet so as not to startle him. His skin was tinged pink, little suds clinging to the ends of his hair. The timer went off in the kitchen and Leon flinched again, hand tensing around the gun. You soothingly placed your hand on his arm.

“It’s just the timer. We’re the only people here Leon, nothing’s going to hurt us. How’s about you dry off and come have something to eat?” you suggested. He blanched at the mention of food and you frowned. “You don’t have to eat everything, just a little bit, you look really pale.” You reached for the towel and held it out to him until he reluctantly nodded and wrapped it around his waist. You left the door slightly ajar and headed for the kitchen to switch off the damn timer. He was so jumpy, so eager to jump to your defence. You plated up a small portion, not wanting to put him off with a large one. You didn’t feel particularly hungry yourself but you’d had a proper meal earlier in the evening, a cup of tea would suffice, camomile and honey would soothe your nerves. Leon had a liking for peppermint you knew. Maybe if he was nauseous that would help him eat? Tea and pasta bake served you sat opposite his place, one hand wrapped around the handle of your mug and the other pulled up to your mouth, your teeth nibbling the side of your nail.

“You’ll make your thumb sore.” He lingered in the doorway like he wasn’t sure if he should sit down or run away. You dropped your hand and placed a more welcoming smile on your lips, nodding to the plate.

“Chicken and bacon pasta bake. It’s good.” You invited. Hesitantly, Leon shuffled to the chair and sat down. You didn’t push him to talk. Months of being with Leon had assured you that pushing would only clam him up further, and you wanted to pry him open tonight. With a sinking feeling, you realised it might be the last night you ever saw him. He’d let himself be extremely vulnerable to you already and you weren’t the type of person to see this kind of trauma and let it go unchecked. You’d want to check in on him, you’d want to help him feel better, and Leon didn’t appreciate the questions you’d have to ask to get the kind of help he needed right. He sighed slightly, picking up the fork and taking a small bite. He looked physically sick for the first few mouthfuls, and you made an effort to distract him with small talk about the weather, your day and all its mundane happenings.

He seemed enraptured by your very voice, soaking in every syllable that crossed your lips and mindlessly working his arm and mouth to clear the plate and drain the mug in front of him.

“Can I have a bit more? It’s really good.” He surprised you with his request but you obliged him, spooning some more on his plate.

“If you’re that partial to it you can take some home to.” You said simply. He nodded once, clearing the second portion with ease and looking much better for it. The colour had returned to his cheeks and he looked a little more put together than before. You settled back in your chair, watched him clean his plate and put it in the drying rack. It was a courtesy you’d never have asked for but were grateful for nonetheless. He didn’t turn around though, keeping his back to you and tightening his grip on the countertop.

#resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon s kennedy #female reader #leon kennedy x female reader #angsty #tw ptsd #part 1

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cherriesink · 3 years

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Takeuchi - Murmurs

Murmurs are snippets of character reflection earned by increasing Explore Points during Exploration. They usually include 6-7 monologues about other characters and 3-4 monologues about things important to the specific character.

These lines are taken straight from the English translation of the game, so fair warning of bad grammar.

About Yatsufusa “According to my statistics, older vampires tend to rank above C-Class... Presumably, D-Class and under end up dying.

But it’s a shame with Yatsufusa. Because he is a C-Class that has all the potentials to fight in a battle. Yet, he cannot demonstrate that in a different way than Kurusu can’t.

It seems he occasionally uses the umbrella I gave him... He’ll end up hurting himself if he carelessly swings a sword since he has never trained for it. And he will break it if he uses it with all his strength. I can’t let a civilian hold a sword anyway. So, an umbrella was the best solution.

...Oh! I have an exciting idea that improves his umbrella. Haha, this will help him even if he’s not a good fighter...”

About Kurusu “Kurusu is very intriguing. He is the strongest vampire in Japan! How is he different from other vampires?! Unfortunately, current science does not allow me to analyze blood at a micro-level... In that case, I must invent a machine that can. I’d love to improve Kurusu’s abilities from an A-Class to S-Class and above through my inventions.

If Colonel Maeda who is a human can defeat unranked vampires, then that means dynamic visions can be improved through training. This then leads me to the question- do I use a drug or machinery to improve his speed and muscle strength...

But Kurusu must improve his speed of judgement more than anything. That, I cannot help him no matter how great I am. It probably comes from his kindness. But, oh well. I’ll let Colonel Maeda deal with that.”

About Maeda “Colonel Maeda is certainly an intelligent person. A true rationalist and finds the best course of action in an instant- because how else can someone decide to amputate their right arm after being bitten by a vampire before the poison enters their system? The surgery went well because he was in luck with a series of events. His wound was a clean-cut, he was able to stop the bleeding, and the fact that Code Zero has plenty of blood supplies for us vampires...

I’d say he was still lucky to survive despite having an aftereffect due to hemorrhage of the heart. I must say he is an astounding human being since his combat skills are still the same where he is capable of beating vampires to death with his prosthetic arm.

Ah- that reminds me that he asked me to fix his arm. What next functions should I add next?”

About Yamagami “Yamagami is the best to experiment on. I wonder what will happen... if I can make him strong enough so he can fight with my inventions? Alas, the greatest assassin will be born! We vampires cannot detect ones that rank below us- they appear like an ordinary person to us.

Yamagami on the other hand is capable of detecting every vampire out there since he is unranked. Which makes him the best candidate to become an assassin sneaking up on vampires from behind! I must conduct every experiment on Yamagami then! It will become a revolution for us vampires if the experiment succeeds.

However, there is just one problem... Yamagami’s personality is not ideal to become an assassin...”

About Suwa “We did not have any vampires that specialized in combat at the time when Code Zero was established. That is why we induced Suwa into our team. I knew the moment I heard the rumor about a vampires that hunts other vampires that he will join our unit.

One of the reasons was that I heard he was alive even before the Edo period... He must be clever if he managed to survive hundreds of years since it is not easy for vampires to survive such a long period.

Secondly, we carry the same goal if he enjoys hunting vampires, whatever his reasons may be. Back then, vampires in the Imperial Capital shivered when hearing “Vampire Hunter.” It’s very promising if that “Vampire Hunter” joins Code Zero.

His body was of a child’s, so his arms were too short for Japanese swords. That is why I made him two daggers.”

About Defrott “I wonder if Defrott will allow me to study his blood... We don’t have any blood samples of S-Class vampires nor any data yet. But he’s not the type that goes with “Please” and “Thank you.” After all, I do not want to die either.

...All I want is to conduct my research peacefully. No need to panic or rush. It’ll become available someday. I can get close to the birth of vampires- if I can learn about S-Class vampires. When, why, and how did we derive...? The only thing we know is that the oldest vampires on the recond spoke ancient Greek... Were they the first? Or did vampires exist long before that, but the records got lost...

It is a mystery how humanity began, but it is even a bigger mystery how vampires started. Was it a strain that occurred during the evolution process. Or mutation... Some call it evil or the devil’s doing. However, I do not believe in unscientific things.”

About Tenman-ya “Come to think of it, our relationship with Tenman-ya has been going on for quite a long time. Considering Colonel Maeda’s personality, there is no way he will miss a vampire’s nest like them...

But perhaps they’re untouched because of the amount of information they’ve accumulated about vampires since the Edo period and the fact that they’ve been confining vampires that are in the Imperial Capital.

As far as I’m concerned, it’s a give-and-take relationship since they refer me to wholesales to sell my drugs I invented. The vampires referred through Tenman-ya are all clean and diligent. Some practice Western medicine like me so it helps.

It appears vampires fight all year round when just looking at Code Zero, but the one that avoid battle are the ones that live long. Tenman-ya supports those vampires.”

About the Experiments “There are three ways to kill a vampire. One, have them fight a vampire that outdo them. Very primitive method. Two, make them powerless through science. What we are currently doing. Three, obtain strength that overthrows higher rank vampires through science. This- is our homework.

Creating heavy firearms is easy, but we are dealing with swift subjects... Even unranked vampires may be described as “...at lightning speed” to an ordinary person.

Thus, I am working on a drug that improves our physical ability... I mixed some into Yamagami’s food the other day, and the results were quite surprising. It was as if he got drunk. I thought I developed a drug that makes the world seem slow, but Yamagami said “The world is spinning! You blockhead!”

My work is trial and error. Well, I do have plenty of time.”

About the Past “I never would’ve imagined that I would end up being a serviceman when I was just an ordinary human being working at a pharmaceutical company. It all happened when the military authorities asked me to research a certain blood sample. I accidentally exposed it to sunlight without knowing that it was vampire blood. The flask exploded from the boiling blood...

Luckily, I did not die from the poison and gained a brain that never degenerates. It was pure coincidence, but I was lucky indeed. I can come close to the secrets of this world with an eternally young brain.

I don’t mind not being able to walk under the sun. I was in the lab day and night in the first place. Not feeling time or seasonal changes aren’t important to me. I don’t care much about food either.

Research is my life! I am the happiest vampire on Earth!”

About the Side Job “Code Zero hardly has any budget for R&D... But we aren’t a special unit that simply gathers vampires for combat. Weak, domestic ones can benefit from my drugs and put up a decent fight with the ones ranking above them. I believe- that is the purpose of our unit.

Colonel Maeda couldn’t care less about the name of the unit. So I named it “Zero”- implying “Starting everything from zero.”

Either way, you need money to experiment. That is why I sell my inventions beneficial to humans to department stores and medical institutions made in the process of my vampire studies. The profit I make all goes to my research. Every purchase helps us foster future vampires.”

#mars red #takeuchi

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zenosanalytic · 3 years

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Growing Up is Hard; It’s Hard and Nobody Understands

So I noticed netflix has Neon Genesis Evangelion up last week and started watching it front to back for the first time ever(this happens to have coincided with me being in a down-mood for your edification, dear readers u_u), finished it today, REALLY liked it, and I wanted to try my hand at explaining what the hell is even going on in NGE cuz it actl seemed super-clear to me(a person who has been consuming NGE analysis and post-NGE media for literally 25 years) u_u

Surface Plot; Or NERV: What the Hell Is It?

I’ll try to make this as brief as possible: An organization of super-wealthy individuals calling itself Seele(looking this up, it means soul in german) wants to possess the power of God. The final third or so of the series is clear on this; it’s all about power. Ikari Yui, a geneticist, is recruited by this organization, and her husband Gendo(having taken her name which says a LOT given typical Japanese practice) comes with her. In seeking out this power, they discover a hollow sphere underneath Antarctica(”The White Moon”), send an expedition there under the guise of the UN, encounter an entity with this power which they label an “Angel”, and do SOMETHING which prompts it to explode the continent flooding the earth and killing half the population(that Gendo left beforehand implies this may have been intentional, or that a bad outcome to Seele’s approach was easy to predict, tho in typical Gendo fashion, his is the only ass he cared to save).

Afterwards Seele blame the scientists for this outcome and send Gendo on a salvage mission which recovers both remains of the Angel, now dubbed “Adam”, and a device they dub “the spear of Longinus”. Seele creates Gehirn to study these remains for practical use; they clone “Adam” and dub the result Evas(Eves). Having cloned them, they now need a way to use and control them as the Evas are non-responsive. They hit on the idea of injecting people into them via the Entry Plug system, presumably to act as a brain. The first person to try this, Ikari Yui, was absorbed by the Eva(Unit 01); the second(Soryu Kyoko Zeppelin; Asuka’s mother) was partially psychologically absorbed by Unit 02, psychologically and mentally injured by this, institutionalized, abandoned by her shit USian husband Langley who remarried to her LEAD DOCTOR, and eventual kills herself in a hanging which Asuka either is the first to discover or, given her memories of promising to die with her/begging her not to do it, was present for. An important thing to note about this: Shinji and Asuka’s ability to sync with their Evas comes from the fact that their mothers are PART of their Eva’s identity, and all of their classmates are potential pilot-candidates. The implication here is that Seele KNEW this happened when you put adults into an Angel, and they KEPT DOING IT ANYWAY to create more pilots, but there’s no confirmation of that in series.

After the attempt at human adult control fails, Gendo combines Yui’s DNA with Adam’s and creates Rei. At the same time he is doing this another team, under Akagi Naoko, is developing Magi, a biomechanical computer for simulating the human mind(again: certain implication to this re: Evas though the series never says anything). Naoko is romantically interested in Gendo, and they start getting together(Gendo’s too much of an asshole to be said to date, I think). After Rei, a toddler, tells her Gendo calls her an “old woman” in private, not realizing this is insulting, Naoko kills her, then kills herself out of shame over having MURDERED A CHILD, and Gehirn is folded into a new organization, NERV, which Gendo is put in charge of. Rei forms the basis of the second attempt at controlling the Evas; child-pilots.

How they use Rei for this I’m not exactly sure. It could be because Rei is cloned from Yui(she easily syncs with Unit 01 before Shinji bonds with it completely), or because she’s part Angel via her Adam element(Kaworu says Angels merge with one another easily and naturally), or it could be they did something with Rei I’s corpse and Unit 00(I dont see how as it seems to require a LIVE pilot). Regardless, she is raised to be the pilot for 00, the prototype. MUCH later, when the rest of the Angels finally decide to come looking for Adam, Shinji is called in, and after his success Asuka(who like Rei and unlike Shinji has been training to pilot her whole life) is called to Nerv headquarters(under Japan, in the “Black Moon”; a second spherical hollow where they found another Angel they call Lilith) too.

Regardless the child-pilots are only a step in Nerv and Seele’s plans, as Rei is ALSO the template for the Dummy Plug system, the final step in complete control of Eva units. To put it simply, the Dummy Plugs are Rei-clones without her personality or memories, and will just do whatever the heck they’re ordered to. At least once during the series(and I’d argue two, possibly three times) Rei dies and is replaced by one of these clones through some process, which involves what looks like a pre 00 Eva’s spine and probably a Magi-like backup, which transfers her personality and memories into the new body.

So what is Nerv? Well it’s hard to say EXACTLY because Gendo is in some sort of conflict with Seele(and I want to keep my watches of End of Evangelion out of this post; to focus entirely on JUST NGE itself) and Nerv IS Gendo, but as the series states repeatedly it’s an attempt to control the future of humanity by controlling what they call “the power of god” which, given that it’s what most distinguishes the “Angels”, is the AT, or “Absolute Terror”, Field. What is the AT Field? It’s a field that can make or unmake any kind of matter or energy from basically nothing, and it also seems to have a strong tie to what you could call the Ego; to desires and sense-of-self. An AT Field gets stronger when the person generating it is experiencing powerful emotions; Confidence, sure, but also Fear, Abandonment, the Will to Live, and Anger.

That last bit is very important. Why? Strong AT Field effects require a powerful emotional motivation in the pilot combined with high sync-rates with the Eva(basically a lobotomized Angel-clone) generating the Field. The three pilots we meet, the Strongest candidates, are all exceedingly traumatized people, and Gendo is the direct cause of the trauma of two of them. At no point in the series is Gendo ever a good father to Shinji, he is CONSTANTLY unreasonable, neglectful, and cruel to him; he’s kinder to Rei but at the same time her loneliness, the state of her “home”, and her lack of self worth shows that he rarely interacts with her outside of missions or explains what’s going on beyond bald facts; and he COMPLETELY ignores Asuka, a deeply lonely child with a history of abandonment and close brushes with death; he even delegates bumping her from the program. This point is important because it’s important to recognize that Gendo is a bad dad on PURPOSE; that he instrumentalizes his bad dadness to traumatize Shinji(and Rei and Asuka, though sadly the series doesn’t focus on them enough for us to see much) as much as he can, because he thinks that trauma, that emotional instability and anger, MAKES SHINJI A MORE USEFUL PILOT; ie lets him generate more powerful AT Fields. This is never said clearly, but it’s clearly what’s going on as forcing Unit 01(and thus Shinji) into awful, heartbreaking, life-threatening situations is vital to his plan. Gendo’s a piece of shit, and I want ppl to recognize just HOW BIG a piece of shit he is, because I feel this powerfully.

And for what? For Power. To be “God”. To get the highest numbers. To generate the MOST Invincible Invincibility Shield. For Ridiculous, Absurd, Childish reasons. For, you know, the same reasons rich and powerful people do all the fucked up shit they do in the real world where giant magic robots thankfully DONT exist.

And how do they plan to do this? Through “Human Instrumentation”, which will literally kill everyone by turning them all into goo.

Metaplot; Or “SHINJI! Don’t Get in that Robot!!”

So, maybe this is just because(as said previously) I’ve been reading NGE Analysis and consuming media which NGE heavily inspired for ~25 years, but I think it’s old hat at this point to note that Neon Genesis Evangelion is ALSO an allegory for becoming an adult, centered on Shinji. However, it’s just really SO on the nose in this, so PERFECT as such a narrative, that I want to run through it real quick. Also: A Cruel Angel’s Thesis is basically a thesis-statement for this series; please check out the lyrics.

So Shinji is living under the guardianship of a teacher(yup: this series even takes a swing at how our society uses schools to warehouse kids so their parents can waste their lives producing “Value” instead of raising them), when the shitty dad that abandoned him decides he has a use for him after all and calls him up.

On meeting with a child he has not seen SINCE HE WAS A TODDLER LITERALLY ABANDONED HIM ON THE STREET WHEN HIS MOTHER DIED he immediately ambushes him with the command that he get in a huge body(that he grow up) to do what? Whatever Gendo tells him to, but specifically: commit acts of violence for Gendo and Seele’s profit. He tells him this will protect people; meanwhile doing it destroys those peoples’ literal homes. The rest of the series is a series of monotonous, incomprehensible “Tests” judging his, and his peers, worthiness for approval and affection on the basis of how well they can use those giant bodies to do what Gendo tells them(so: capitalist work), punctuated by unpredictable, brutal, traumatizing, and physically dangerous events(so: capitalist work). Every friend, and the one lover, he meets, he is placed in unnecessary, destructive competition with and, when they are male, forced to attack and(in the case of the one lover, Kaworu) kill them; this last comment on homophobia is so stark and obvs I don’t even feel like you can CALL it subtext, even IF it plays out over mostly a single episode(honestly this plotline should have been given more time). And all the time they’re doing this, they must ALSO continue going to school and maintaining the front that they’re happy smiley Heroes, completely normal and not traumatized at all, and Nerv and the government that lets them run this city is a great and wonderful organization. Is this not what becoming an adult, over your teens and 20s, feels like?

And then there’s Seele and Nerv. Able to move state governments as they wish, Seele CAUSED Second Impact(Global Warming). By not returning Adam’s remains, they’re CAUSING the Angel attacks on Nerv meant to retrieve them(the threat of Human extinction). The Angels eventually begin trying to communicate and Nerv’s response? Destroy them before they can; blow up the Evas(and their pilots) if they succeed. And to top it all off Seele and Nerv are actually trying to CAUSE the very extinction(Third Impact) they claim to be preventing! Seele and Nerv are just SUCH good metaphors for capitalism in our modern day.

The transwoman reading of Shinji also seems pretty dang strong to me, though I’ll only deal with it shallowly. Shinji is the only “male” of all the pilots. Outside of command and security, most Nerv staff are women. Being an Eva pilot, being Nerv staff, is marked as “feminine”, and Shinji is an Eva pilot; is a Nerv staffer. The body he gets into, Unit 01, acts as a metaphor for the large, imposing, masculine body he’s expected to have as an adult “man”, yet it’s also spiritually his mom -feminine- and his ability to use it is tied DIRECTLY with his ability to “Sync” with that spirit; with his ease and comfort being feminine. Even at the level of mere aesthetics, Shinji’s plugsuit makes him appear to have breasts! Going a bit deeper, he initially relates to the women around him by relating to their gender. He’s most at ease with Rei because of the personality traits she shares with him which, we know from his gender-policing of Misato from earlier in the series, are traits he considers feminine(ie: he doesn’t feel like Misato has them, so he thinks she’s being a woman “wrong” and gets oddly offended by this in a way that really feels more about him than her). Asuka is constantly expressing her frustration with him for not “being a man”, ie, for being “feminine” in her eyes, and he isn’t really bothered by it(her calling him an idiot seems to stick much more firmly). Misato and Shinji establish a modus vevendi when she accepts him as he is, allowing him to do the household chores and to cook; he’s comfortable and happy when accepted into roles his culture considers feminine, while most of the series is him bucking AGAINST the masculinity forced on him by Nerv, his father, and others. Again: this is a very surface-level engagement with the subject, but even at that shallow level I feel like the case for reading Shinji as a transwoman is pretty solid.

Dislikes

It’s not a perfect series by any means of course.

There’s allot of dialogue that’s pure 90s nonsense, though the series mostly includes it only to shoot it down.

Like I said above, I don’t think Rei and Asuka really get the time or attention they deserve. In general the series treatment of women is ...Weird... especially around the issue of sex. It’s really strange; in many ways it’s far better than most anime(spcl from that period) on this. Women are ACTUAL PEOPLE with psychology, opinions, and pasts; they’re allowed to have emotions of their own, and struggles, and to be damn competent; they are independent and their own selves rather than accessories or “prizes” to men. But on the issue of feminine sexuality it just gets suddenly so weird in this very particular old-school misogynist way. Like: it treats women’s attraction and reactions TO relationships as something devoid of and impenetrable to reason, without belittling the emotions(the desire and hurt) behind those reactions. That’s the only way I can describe it, and it’s so strange to see something that is both so insulting and sympathetic at once. Oh, and the Akagis in particular are done super-dirty for seemingly no reason I can see, tho I can guess, and Akagi Ritsuki is CLEARLY a lesbian(possibly bi lesbian) and also Rose Lalonde(srsl; her Deal should have been an unrequited, unspoken crush on Misato. They openly dealt with queerness re: Kaworu and Shinji they could have done it here too).

The Kaworu storyline should have been a series of episodes or even developed from the start with him as another pilot(maybe replace Toji with him), though they’d have to tone down his weirdness, at least at the start. A deeper dive on Shinji’s sexuality(honestly his attraction to Kaworu is SO much more immediate and believable than anything we see with him and Asuka, which there is basically nothing of beyond the ep where they had to do choreography for a fight, and that’s not developed on) would have really been appreciated, and having Kaworu be a bigger part of the series would have facilitated that.

Also honestly the whole series feels a bit rushed? Spcl the second half. Like I said: I haven’t done any followup reading lately, but I remember there being some budget problems or something, so maybe that’s the cause. Ironically it might actl also be why it’s as GOOD as it is; having to keep it short forces you to write concise and lean, and that’s probably why its themes and message are so clear. But, I’d have liked more rambling for character development, and more time spent on seeing Rei and Asuka react to the stresses we saw Shinji face(also they never really get moments to shine like he does; another negative common to the medium and genre). Asuka in particular, as a Japanese German with a USian temperament abandoned by her parents, already an outsider in SO many ways, coming to live in an entirely different culture where she’s even MORE of an outsider; forced to live with people(Misato and Shinji) she finds it impossible to relate to or connect with; who has literally NO ONE beside a single adult guardian who totally blows her off THE WHOLE SERIES after delivering her; PLUS her awful past: there’s just SO MUCH material I’d have loved to see explored more slowly and with greater depth, detail, and sympathy even if what IS there already is pretty powerful and effecting. She’s SUCH a good Vriska(so I’d also have loved to see her break more shit too >:>)

Conclusion

So Anyway: I really liked this series. It had its problems, there are things I’d have liked to see, but it absolutely deserves the reputation it has. I might write more about this, I might do a watch through INCLUDING End of Evangelion(which actl makes much more sense having watched the series, though having done so makes Shinji’s masturbation scene comPLETELY out of left-field like where the hell did THAT come from); we’ll see.

#Neon Genesis Evangelion #The Dreaded Animes #zA Reviews #zA Opinions

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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years

Text

Mine

13. Agust D

Genre: Min Yoongi x oc

Warnings: none

Word Count: 4.2k

I have a surprise for you guys in this chapter!!! 😊😊 Aaaaand we’re all set up and ready to go for the finale!

2 Months Later

Anacortes, Washington, USA

The distant sound of a bell pulls me back to reality, and I turn to face the wind. Waves are pushing their way onto the shore, the choppy water fighting for my attention.

I watch as the ferry grows ever closer before putting my earbuds into my ears to answer my incoming phone call.

“Funny, I was just thinking about you,” I smile as I close my eyes.

“Really? What a coincidence. What are you up to right now?”

“Just about to board the ferry. You?”

“I’m going to head to bed soon.”

“Wow, so early. You’ve become so disciplined!”

Yoongi’s breathy laugh fills my ears and I can almost picture him rolling his eyes if I close my eyes tightly enough. “I’m assuming you’re not available to facetime?”

Frowning, I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “No, too many people around. You’ll just have to deal with the beautiful sound of my voice.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

It’s been two months since I last saw Yoongi outside of Bong-cha’s apartment. The chill that comes with currently residing in the northwestern United States is almost the same as I felt that morning when we said goodbye.

‘Young Rising’ came out just over a month ago, and it’s received a lot of success. Thankfully it was just enough to help me land a role that is already receiving speculation for possibly being a critically acclaimed role.

It wasn’t the one I originally wanted, that role went to Bryce Dallas Howard. I suppose I’ll have to try for a 1700’s romance some other time. This time around I get to play the daughter of one of the first lighthouse keepers in the United States and all the crazy events that unfold. It’s fun, and getting to take the ferry out to the San Juan islands here in the state of Washington is an added bonus.

My favorite part of the role? Every morning I get to sit here and watch the ocean and talk to Yoongi.

“Rude, but I’m not surprised. Isn’t it barely midnight there? You really are heading off to bed early.”

“Yeah, it’s midnight. What can I say? It was a long day and I’m exhausted.”

Now that I listen closer, I notice the hint of tiredness in his tone. “Why? What happened today?”

Yoongi sighs as I get up to board the ferry. Another great thing about being here in Washington? It’s cold and rainy enough that nobody bats an eye at me. I’m decked out in my raincoat and my beanie is pulled down low. During this time of year there aren’t many tourists either, so most mornings it’s just the ferryman and I. Today there are a couple of small groups milling about, though.

All the better. It gives me an excuse to not facetime Yoongi and have him laugh at my bundled up state. Which, for the record, he finds hilarious.

“Promise not to laugh?”

“Promise.”

There’s a second hesitation before he speaks up again. “I miss you.”

It’s a blow straight to the heart, and I cling to the railing so as to not fall overboard. We try not to dwell on our current state too much, things are complicated enough. Still, it’s nice to know that I’m not the only one struggling with this.

“Why would I laugh at that?”

“I don’t know, you like making fun of me and how weirdly sentimental I can get-”

“Soft. That’s the word you’re looking for.”

“...right. How could I forget.”

“I miss you too, Yoongs. A lot.”

It’s silent on the other end of the phone for a little while, so I just lean up against the railing and watch as the ferry begins to edge out to sea. Once again I close my eyes against the crashing waves and try to convince myself that I’m sitting in the genius lab or making a mess of things in the kitchen.

How could a span of less than a week affect me so much? It’s a question that I’ve come back to many times over the past couple of weeks. Occasionally I get a moment of understanding. Sometimes that understanding comes late at night as I cuddle up in bed, propping my phone up to chat with Yoongi as he sits at his desk in the genius lab and tells me about what he’s working on.

Just watching him mumble incoherent things under his breath and seeing his eyes flit back to his phone to check that I’m still there makes me realize that there’s so much going on here. So much going on whilst being so far apart.

At least the media frenzy has died down a bit. Sure, there’s still a lot of theories tumbling around, but the mobs of heartbroken fans seems to have lessened significantly.

“Are you sure that’s everything, though? What else have you got going on?”

“What, me missing you is not enough?”

I chuckle into the phone. “Nope.”

“Fine, you caught me. We’re finishing up the final touches on the mixtape and I always just get really stressed before a release, you know? Like you did the night before ‘Young Rising’ premiered?”

Shuddering at the memory I groan. “Ugh, don’t remind me. But what is it exactly about this mixtape that has you so nervous? I mean, this isn’t the first time you’ve released one. Maybe whatever helped you de-stress last time will help you this time around, too.”

There’s a long pause but I wait patiently for him to speak. The island is just coming into view now, I’ve probably got about fifteen more minutes before I’m officially on the clock and have to hang up.

I hate that part.

“I’m not so sure...it’s different this time around.”

I frown. “What’s so different? You’re even more loved?”

A wry laugh on his part. “No, not that. It’s just...this mixtape, these songs...they’re even more personal this time around. Sure, I’ve talked about some pretty personal things on my previous mixtapes, but this time around the entire mixtape is personal.”

That’s news to me. Ever since Yoongi changed the concept of the album he’s kept everything under lock and key. He told me he kept most of the tracks, ��My First Mistake’ obviously being one of them. Other than that, though, I have no idea what to expect.

“Yoongs...I think that will make this mixtape your best one yet. Really. People will be able to relate to it, and they’ll love you even more for it. Just, get some sleep tonight. You’ve worked your hardest - don’t try to brush it all off, you’ve nearly worked yourself to the ground over this mixtape! - and that’s all you can do. I’m absolutely positive it’ll be great.”

“Thanks, Car. So what scenes are you doing today?”

We get lost in the conversation for the remainder of the ferry ride before suddenly the ferry is coming to a stop. I hurry off the boat, the tell-tale change of tone tipping Yoongi off to what I need to do.

“Talk to you later?”

“Yeah, sounds great. Get some sleep!”

Yoongi chuckles. “Will do. Have a great day.”

I sign off the phone and roll my shoulders. One of the producers, Melissa, is waiting for me in a little golf cart.

“Hey Cara, ready for the day?”

Grinning at her, I jump into the passenger seat. “Definitely.”

🌙

It’s the middle of the night when I’m awoken from my slumber, and I groan as I contemplate just turning my phone off. It was a late night, I’ve probably only been asleep for a couple of hours at this point.

When I see who’s calling, though, I pick up.

“Bong-cha?” I ask blearily. “What’s up?”

“Have you listened to it yet?!”

I hiss as Bong-cha screams into my ear. “What are you talking about? Did you and Jimin finally kiss or something?”

“No, you idiot. Yoongi’s mixtape!”

My eyes widen and suddenly I’m completely awake. “His mixtape? I-it’s out? When?”

“It just dropped like an hour ago! Didn’t he tell you? I mean, I get that he wanted to surprise everybody, but I thought he’d at least tell you.”

I’m already on my music app, searching for Agust D. When I finally hit search, I scream involuntarily.

“That little punk! He didn’t even tell me!”

“Wait, Cara!”

“What?”

“Just, listen to it.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do, weirdo.”

“No, but really listen to it. I mean, it’s about you.”

My chest stops rising as my air gets cut off. “What do you mean it’s about me? We already knew about ‘My First Mistake’-”

“No, not just that track. I mean it’s all about you. Just look at the name of it! Isn’t it a little weird that he didn’t stick to his m.o. and title it ‘D-3’?”

I was in such a rush to click on his profile that I didn’t even bother to look at the title. When I do, I come gasping up for air.

Mine.

Written there in big, bold letters is the word mine.

“That doesn’t mean any-”

“Nuh-uh, you listen to the mixtape and then we’ll hash out the details. Got it?”

“Fine. Call you in the morning?”

“Isn’t it already morning for you?”

“Yeah, 4!”

“Right. Yeah, call me later.”

Clicking off the call, I take a deep breath to steel myself before clicking on the album. 8 tracks stare back up at me, most of them I recognize from that first night in the genius lab. The leading track is ‘My First Mistake’, which makes me smile. When my eyes trail down to the final song, I can’t help but click on it.

My Last Mistake. Turning the volume up, I sit back against my headboard and listen. And then, note by note, I fall under his spell.

Yoongi’s heartbroken voice talks about details of his life, how he goes by many names. The world knows him by Suga. His true fans know his other name, August D. Min Yoongi controls the strings of those two personas. A heavy beat pounds out the words alongside him.

Then the music slows, becomes calmer. Clearer.

In the most tormented voice he can manage, Yoongi talks about a girl that called him Yoongs. He talks about a girl driving under the stars that called him Yoongs and how in that moment, he decided that none of the other names mattered anymore, just so long as he could hear her say it one more time.

As the song falls from its crescendo, Yoongi brings up his last mistake.

“What’s your last mistake, Yoongs?” I whisper, hoping for an answer.

He answers it a moment later, the same melody from ‘My First Mistake’ being played out, only this time it’s on the guitar rather than the piano.

He’s reminded of his last mistake every time a plane flies overhead and he can’t run fast enough to catch it.

🌙

The entire mixtape is hauntingly beautiful.

As I finish listening to “Naksan”, a song set Naksan park, and what I assume to be the gazebo that overlooked Seoul, I lean my head back and sigh.

There is so much we don’t say. There is so much that Yoongi has never said, but now I’m beginning to realize why he was so nervous about this mixtape.

Here, crammed into these eight songs that talk about everything from t-shirts to being oceans apart, Yoongi says everything he never could before. It’s obvious, painfully so. He didn’t try to cover anything up.

I am so dead.

Yet, I can’t find it in myself to care. The only thing I wish I could do right now is show up at his apartment and sit down on his couch. Maybe eat some food, and watch as he fumbles for an explanation to this mixtape that is no longer a mixtape but more a cry out into the void.

And of course, don’t even get me started on the title track. The song that the album is named after, “Mine”.

In it Yoongi recalls his dreams of having a big car and house, and how he gets to call all those things his now. He has it all, essentially. And yet, the one thing he wants more than anything is far from him.

‘I have it all, I hear them say it. I have it all, they chant over again. When will they realize that it means nothing to me, if I can’t call you mine?’

Dragging myself to check Twitter, I see what the number one trending topic is right now.

#Mine

And in second place?

#CaraisMine

Somehow, I can never quite make it to first place. How disappointing.

Groaning as I realize that the sun is about to come up, I linger over Yoongi’s contact information.

One call. That’s all it would take. A single phone call, and maybe everything would change. But what would I even say?

Hi, it’s the girl that’s ridiculously in love with you. Do you feel the same way? Great! Let’s end our careers and live in Fiji!

As enticing as that sounds as I watch the rain pouring down, I know that it’s unrealistic. I’m here, caught up in some strange, long-distance relationship that’s technically not a relationship.

And Yoongi’s there, hopefully receiving all the praise he deserves for coming out with yet another great mixtape.

So I just let the dim light from my phone fade out before slipping back down under the covers. I know what Yoong is thinking now.

Ball’s in my court. But how on earth do I return it?

🌙

Seoul, South Korea

“And she still hasn’t said anything about it?”

Yoongi knows that Taehyung is trying really hard to understand his current predicament, but if he asks him if he’s heard from Cara one more time, he’s going to lose his mind.

“No.”

“Have you reached out to her?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Sighing, Yoongi rubs his hands over his face. “First, because it’s only 8 o’clock in the morning over there. Second, I basically just told the world about my feelings for her, I think I can give her a little space to breathe before jumping on her.”

Taehyung plops down beside Yoongi, his eyes wide. “You’re really stressed, aren’t you?”

Somehow the question makes Yoongi laugh. “You think?” He feels restless; he has for the past two months. He thought releasing the mixtape would diminish that feeling, but instead it’s been heightened to the point that he can’t hardly sit still anymore.

Which is saying a lot, because Yoongi loves sitting still.

“Hyung?”

“Hm.”

“I think you should borrow my car and go for a drive or something. Just get out for a while. You’ve been cooped up in this studio for weeks; it’s messing with your head.”

Sometimes Yoongi forgets how much everyone cares about him. It’s in times like these that he remembers. Without saying much else he takes Taehyung’s keys that he extends to him and heads out.

When he gets into the car, he doesn’t know where he’s going. His mind is filled with worry and doubts and worst of all, regret. Was he too blind in his feelings that he overlooked Cara’s? After all, maybe she’s listening to the mixtape right this very moment and wondering why he would write something like this.

Maybe she hasn’t called him yet because she’s trying to come up with a way to let him down easy.

Yoongi drives and drives, turning up the music so as to drown out the thoughts in his head. He drives on and on, clueless to the fact that it’s the middle of the night and he should really be heading back to the apartment now.

When he parks before a lit path that leads up, Yoongi realizes that his body knew this entire time where he was going.

Without questioning it further, he hops out of the car and shrugs on his coat and mask. It’s late enough that hopefully most people will have had the sense to go home.

As Yoongi climbs up the path he only passes a couple of people; a couple that are too tangled up in each other’s embrace to even notice him. The path continues ever upward until he’s panting, but he’s grateful for the burn in his lungs. For a brief moment, his mind isn’t consumed by the what ifs of his current situation.

As Yoongi clears the final steps, his gaze immediately turns to the gazebo just down a ways. It’s the same as before, the night a similar one to that night when he watched Cara from afar before mustering up the courage to go talk to her.

Tonight there is one major difference. As Yoongi edges closer, there’s a tightness in his chest. There’s some part of him that half-expects Cara to appear, leaning up against one of the pillars and looking out at the city.

As Yoongi steps into the gazebo, that wish vanishes into thin air.

It’s empty.

Cara is not here. Yoongi is, though. Which has proved to be the most miserable thing in the world over the past two months. Cara is gone, but somehow Yoongi is still here and seeing her everywhere he goes.

The songwriting and production process is enough to make anyone go a little insane. Usually, once the project is finished, Yoongi feels like he can finally breathe again. He’s able to enjoy the fruits of his labors.

Not tonight.

At first he laughed at himself, back when he’d first started learning about Cara from Bong-cha and curiosity overcame him. He thought it was silly of him to want to learn everything about her and what it was that made her tick. There was just something about her that made Yoongi dive right in.

Of course, the boys had noticed. Even Bong-cha, who hadn’t known him for very long, had noticed the difference Cara had made. That was before they even met. Before any of this had even started.

Yoongi knows his place. His place as one of the most famous stars in the world, his place in the group’s dynamic, his place among his family. His place among ARMY. Yet, when he met Cara, it was like the ground disappeared under his feet and he’s been falling ever since.

He used to come to Naksan park often and just think. He’s not one for hiking around outdoors, but something about the view and the beautiful architecture of the gazebo and old city walls that line the path have helped him think.

He used to stand where Cara stood, and think about everything. However there was one topic that he tried to avoid at all costs: love. It wasn’t because he didn’t believe in love or didn't want it; if he’s learned anything from his time with ARMY he’s learned about love. But there was always this giant, impenetrable wall that stood between him and love.

Yoongi knows his place, and because of that clear role he has also always known that him falling in love with someone other than his fans was off the table.

That night when he came to meet Cara, he was coming to tell her just that. He was coming to tell her that he was a horrible human being that was dangerously close to breaking that unspoken rule, and he needed to mark a clear line in the sand. Friends, he had thought We can still be friends.

Yet, as he’d watched Cara head to the same spot; the same pillar he had frequented so many times, his words had gotten caught in his throat. She’d looked out over the city and Yoongi would have given anything to know what she was thinking.

Instead, he’d just asked for what so many people had been unable to give him throughout his career.

Just someone to sit in silence with.

No demands, no questions, just be together.

And as Yoongi sat swimming in his feelings, Cara’s head resting on his shoulder, he learned something about himself.

Yoongi had avoided the topic of love for so long not because he didn’t think it was appropriate for his lifestyle, but because he’d known deep down that the chances of him finding someone he was willing give everything up for were nearly nonexistent.

Cara’s hand was wrapped up in his, sharing his pocket. Quiet breathing, feeling warm despite the oppressing chill. No demanding answers, just sitting together.

He had realized that while he was looking for someone to convince him to leave everything behind, he was sitting beside someone that already understood. Someone that would never tell him to abandon it all just to be together.

He was sitting beside someone that might just be open to the possibility of being together, and would be open to the chaos that would ensue. There was no need to change everything to be together, but there would be the need to fight for that privilege of calling Cara his.

As Yoongi now steps into the gazebo and rests on the bench opposite from where they had sat, he remembers when it all started.

The night after he’d watched ‘Under Nine’, he’d felt restless and wandered up here. It was the first time in over a year that he’d come here. He knew why he didn’t bother to anymore; he didn’t feel inspired anymore when he looked out over the city.

Yoongi had seen the world, and he’d fallen out of love with it.

It was a horrible, lying, cheating thing. He’d seen too much suffering, fought so hard against it just to see evil rise up again and again.

Yet when he came up here that night after watching Cara on screen and seeing that humanity can be beautiful even in all its flaws, something amazing had happened.

He looked out over the city, and a little spark had jumped up in his heart. That night, Yoongi looked out over the world, and began to fall in love again.

Yoongi has never been very confrontational. Some may think he is simply due to his status as a rapper, but that’s never been the case. However, he is known for his undeniable work ethic. For his unending effort to obtain what he thinks he deserves.

When Yoongi placed a letter into the mail a few days ago, he was reminded of why he was going to do everything in his power to make this work.

When he looked at Cara, he thought that she deserved a chance at love, too.

Giving one last look out at the city, Yoongi gets up and stretches. There are a lot of uncertainties swirling about right now, but there is one thing he is completely certain of.

He is going to do everything in his power to give him and Cara a chance.

🌙

Anacortes, Washington, USA

I have mail.

It’s the first time in a long time that I’ve gotten mail, but I can’t fight the feeling of dread as I wonder if the awkward pleas from fans are about to start up again. There’s a single envelope addressed to me sitting on the ground in front of my hotel door, which I scoop up before heading back inside.

No work today; we’ll be taking a two week break to wait out the rainy season before picking things back up again. I’m grateful for the small reprieve, I would much rather stay cuddled up in my blankets today while I try to wrap my mind around everything.

I haven’t reached out to Yoongi yet. Granted, it’s only 10 am, but I still feel a little guilty. I just want to make sure I have my thoughts in order before I freak out, you know? After all, there’s still a chance the mixtape being about me is just a coincidence...right?

Stacey, my PR rep, just got off the phone with me. Nobody really knows where I am right now, which is good. There are perks to being holed up in a small town in the northwestern United States.

She gave me an earful on how many calls she’s received over the course of the last few hours from various magazines and gossip collectors. When she asked me if there was a statement she would like for me to relay, I blanked. Stacey just laughed and said she’d come up with some vague for the time being.

My attention returns to the item in my hand. Cautiously opening up the letter, my brows furrow as I take out a small slip of paper and a piece of thick cardstock.

Cara,

Hopefully this gets to you when it’s supposed to. I thought of just sending you an email but that seemed to detract from what I was going for. You understand, don’t you? When you told me about your break from work, I managed to pull some strings. Follow the directions on the back of this letter, I’ll be waiting for you. And no, I can’t do this over the phone. It’s an ‘in-person’ kind of thing.

Yours,

Yoongs

Flipping the letter over I frown when the directions are in French. Then, scrambling for the cardstock, my mouth drops open as I see just what Yoongi is talking about.

One boarding ticket for tomorrow morning, leaving at 10am.

Destination?

Paris.

Previous - Next

only one chapter left! 💛💛

taglist: @eusticenatalie @agustneeds @prdshobi @oceandeep @taylorroe3 @dreamcatcherjiah

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hlupdate · 4 years

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Variety’s Grammy-nominated Hitmaker of the Year goes deep on the music industry, the great pause and finding his own muses.

“We’ll dance again,” Harry Styles coos, the Los Angeles sunshine peeking through his pandemic-shaggy hair just so. The singer, songwriter and actor — beloved and critically acclaimed thanks to his life-affirming year-old album, “Fine Line” — is lamenting that his Variety Hitmaker of the Year cover conversation has to be conducted over Zoom rather than in person. Even via videoconference, the Brit is effortlessly charming, as anyone who’s come within earshot of him would attest, but it quickly becomes clear that beneath that genial smile is a well-honed media strategy.

To wit: In an interview that appears a few days later announcing his investment in a new arena in his native Manchester (more on that in a bit), he repeats the refrain — “There will be a time we dance again”— referencing a much-needed return to live music and the promise of some 4,000 jobs for residents.

None of which is to suggest that Styles, 26, phones it in for interviews. Quite the opposite: He does very few, conceivably to give more of himself and not cheapen what is out there and also to use the publicity opportunity to indulge his other interests, like fashion. (Last month Styles became the first male to grace the cover of Vogue solo.) Still, it stings a little that a waltz with the former One Direction member may not come to pass on this album cycle — curse you, coronavirus.

Styles’ isolation has coincided with his maturation as an artist, a thespian and a person. With “Fine Line,” he’s proved himself a skilled lyricist with a tremendous ear for harmony and melody. In preparing for his role in Olivia Wilde’s period thriller “Don’t Worry Darling,” which is shooting outside Palm Springs, he found an outlet for expression in interpreting words on a page. And for the first time, he’s using his megaphone to speak out about social justice — inspired by the outpouring of support for Black people around the world following the death of George Floyd at the hands of Minneapolis police in May.

Styles has spent much of the past nine months at home in London, where life has slowed considerably. The time has allowed him to ponder such heady issues as his purpose on the earth. “It’s been a pause that I don’t know if I would have otherwise taken,” says Styles. “I think it’s been pretty good for me to have a kind of stop, to look and think about what it actually means to be an artist, what it means to do what we do and why we do it. I lean into moments like this — moments of uncertainty.”

In truth, while Styles has largely been keeping a low profile — his Love On Tour, due to kick off on April 15, was postponed in late March and is now scheduled to launch in February 2021 (whether it actually will remains to be seen) — his music has not. This is especially true in the U.S., where he’s notched two hit singles, “Adore You,” the second-most-played song at radio in 2020, and “Watermelon Sugar” (No. 22 on Variety’s year-end Hitmakers chart), with a third, “Golden,” already cresting the top 20 on the pop format. The massive cross-platform success of these songs means Styles has finally and decisively broken into the American market, maneuvering its web of gatekeepers to accumulate 6.2 million consumption units and rising.

Why do these particular songs resonate in 2020? Styles doesn’t have the faintest idea. While he acknowledges a “nursery rhyme” feel to “Watermelon Sugar” with its earwormy loop of a chorus, that’s about as much insight as he can offer. His longtime collaborator and friend Tom Hull, also known as the producer Kid Harpoon, offers this take: “There’s a lot of amazing things about that song, but what really stands out is the lyric. It’s not trying to hide or be clever. The simplicity of watermelon … there’s such a joy in it, [which] is a massive part of that song’s success.” Also, his kids love it. “I’ve never had a song connect with children in this way,” says Hull, whose credits include tunes by Shawn Mendes, Florence and the Machine and Calvin Harris. “I get sent videos all the time from friends of their kids singing. I have a 3-year-old and an 8-year-old, and they listen to it.”

Styles is quick to note that he doesn’t chase pop appeal when crafting songs. In fact, the times when he pondered or approved a purposeful tweak, like on his self-titled 2017 debut, still gnaw at him. “I love that album so much because it represents such a time in my life, but when I listen to it — sonically and lyrically, especially — I can hear places where I was playing it safe,” he says. “I was scared to get it wrong.”

Contemporary effects and on-trend beats hardly factor into Styles’ decision-making. He likes to focus on feelings — his own and his followers’ — and see himself on the other side of the velvet rope, an important distinction in his view. “People within [the industry] feel like they operate on a higher level of listening, and I like to make music from the point of being a fan of music,” Styles says. “Fans are the best A&R.”

This from someone who’s had free rein to pursue every musical whim, and hand in the album of his dreams in the form of “Fine Line.” Chart success makes it all the sweeter, but Styles insists that writing “for the right reasons” supersedes any commercial considerations. “There’s no part that feels, eh, icky — like it was made in the lab,” he says.

Styles has experience in this realm. As a graduate of the U.K. competition series “The X Factor,” where he and four other auditionees — Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne and Louis Tomlinson — were singled out by show creator and star judge Simon Cowell to conjoin as One Direction, he’s seen how the prefab pop machine works up close. The One Direction oeuvre, which counts some 42 million albums sold worldwide, includes songs written with such established hitmakers as Ryan Tedder, Savan Kotecha and Teddy Geiger. Being a studious, insatiable observer, Styles took it all in.

“I learned so much,” he says of the experience. “When we were in the band, I used to try and write with as many different people as I could. I wanted to practice — and I wrote a lot of bad shit.”

His bandmates also benefited from the pop star boot camp. The proof is in the relatively seamless solo transitions of at least three of its members — Payne, Malik and Horan in addition to Styles — each of whom has landed hit singles on charts in the U.K., the U.S. and beyond.

This departs from the typical trajectories of boy bands including New Kids on the Block and ’N Sync, which have all pro ered a star frontman. The thinking for decades was that a record company would be lucky to have one breakout solo career among the bunch.

Styles has plainly thought about this.

“When you look at the history of people coming out of bands and starting solo careers, they feel this need to apologize for being in the band. ‘Don’t worry, everyone, that wasn’t me! Now I get to do what I really want to do.’ But we loved being in the band,” he says. “I think there’s a wont to pit people against each other. And I think it’s never been about that for us. It’s about a next step in evolution. The fact that we’ve all achieved different things outside of the band says a lot about how hard we worked in it.”

Indeed, during the five-ish years that One Direction existed, Styles’ schedule involved the sort of nonstop international jet-setting that few get to see in a lifetime, never mind their teenage years. Between 2011 and 2015, One Direction’s tours pulled in north of $631 million in gross ticket sales, according to concert trade Pollstar, and the band was selling out stadiums worldwide by the time it entered its extended hiatus. Styles, too, had built up to playing arenas as a solo artist, engaging audiences with his colorful stage wear and banter and left-of-center choices for opening acts (a pre-Grammy-haul Kacey Musgraves in 2018; indie darlings King Princess and Jenny Lewis for his rescheduled 2021 run).

Stages of all sizes feel like home to Styles. He grew up in a suburb of Manchester, ground zero for some of the biggest British acts of the 1980s and ’90s, including Joy Division, New Order, the Smiths and Oasis, the latter of which broke the same year Styles was born. His parents were also music lovers. Styles’ father fed him a balanced diet of the Beatles, Fleetwood Mac, the Rolling Stones and Queen, while Mum was a fan of Shania Twain, Norah Jones and Savage Garden. “They’re all great melody writers,” says Styles of the acts’ musical throughline.

Stevie Nicks, who in the past has described “Fine Line” as Styles’ “Rumours,” referencing the Fleetwood Mac 1977 classic, sees him as a kindred spirit. “Harry writes and sings his songs about real experiences that seemingly happened yesterday,” she tells Variety. “He taps into real life. He doesn’t make up stories. He tells the truth, and that is what I do. ‘Fine Line’ has been my favorite record since it came out. It is his ‘Rumours.’ I told him that in a note on December 13, 2019 before he went on stage to play the ‘Fine Line’ album at the Forum. We cried. He sang those songs like he had sung them a thousand times. That’s a great songwriter and a great performer.”

“Harry’s playing and writing is instinctual,” adds Jonathan Wilson, a friend and peer who’s advised Styles on backing and session musicians. “He understands history and where to take the torch. You can see the thread of great British performers — from Bolan to Bowie — in his music.”

Also shaping his musical DNA was Manchester itself, the site of a 23,500-seat arena, dubbed Co-op Live, for which Styles is an investor and adviser. Oak View Group, a company specializing in live entertainment and global sports that was founded by Tim Leiweke and Irving Azoff in 2015 (Jeffrey Azoff, Irving’s son, represents Styles at Full Stop Management), is leading the effort to construct the venue. The project gained planning approval in September and is set to open in 2023, with its arrival representing a £350 million ($455 million) investment in the city. (Worth noting: Manchester is already home to an arena — the site of a 2017 bombing outside an Ariana Grande concert — and a football stadium, where One Love Manchester, an all-star benefit show to raise money for victims of the terrorist attack, took place.)

“I went to my first shows in Manchester,” Styles says of concerts paid for with money earned delivering newspapers for a supermarket called the Co-op. “My friends and I would go in on weekends. There’s so many amazing small venues, and music is such a massive part of the city. I think Manchester deserves it. It feels like a full-circle, coming-home thing to be doing this and to be able to give any kind of input. I’m incredibly proud. Hopefully they’ll let me play there at some point.”

Though Styles has owned properties in Los Angeles, his base for the foreseeable future is London. “I feel like my relationship with L.A. has changed a lot,” he explains. “I’ve kind of accepted that I don’t have to live here anymore; for a while I felt like I was supposed to. Like it meant things were going well. This happened, then you move to L.A.! But I don’t really want to.”

Is it any wonder? Between COVID and the turmoil in the U.S. spurred by the presidential election, Styles, like some 79 million American voters, is recovering from sticker shock over the bill of goods sold to them by the concept of democracy. “In general, as people, there’s a lack of empathy,” he observes. “We found this place that’s so divisive. We just don’t listen to each other anymore. And that’s quite scary.”

That belief prompted Styles to speak out publicly in the wake of George Floyd’s death. As protests in support of Black Lives Matter took to streets all over the world, for Styles, it triggered a period of introspection, as marked by an Instagram message (liked by 2.7 million users and counting) in which he declared: “I do things every day without fear, because I am privileged, and I am privileged every day because I am white. … Being not racist is not enough, we must be anti racist. Social change is enacted when a society mobilizes. I stand in solidarity with all of those protesting. I’m donating to help post bail for arrested organizers. Look inwards, educate yourself and others. LISTEN, READ, SHARE, DONATE and VOTE. ENOUGH IS ENOUGH. BLACK LIVES MATTER.”

“Talking about race can be really uncomfortable for everyone,” Styles elaborates. “I had a realization that my own comfort in the conversation has nothing to do with the problem — like that’s not enough of a reason to not have a conversation. Looking back, I don’t think I’ve been outspoken enough in the past. Using that feeling has pushed me forward to being open and ready to learn. … How can I ensure from my side that in 20 years, the right things are still being done and the right people are getting the right opportunities? That it’s not a passing thing?”

His own record company — and corporate parent Sony Music Group, whose chairman, Rob Stringer, signed Styles in 2016 — has been grappling with these same questions as the industry has faced its own reckoning with race. At issue: inequality among the upper ranks (an oft-cited statistic: popular music is 80% Black, but the music business is 80% white); contracts rooted in a decades-old system that many say is set up to take advantage of artists, Black artists more unfairly than white; and the call for a return of master rights, an ownership model that is at the core of the business.

Styles acknowledges the fundamental imbalance in how a major label deal is structured — the record company takes on the financial risk while the artist is made to recoup money spent on the project before the act is considered profitable and earning royalties (typically at a 15% to 18% rate for the artist, while the label keeps and disburses the rest). “Historically, I can’t think of any industry that’s benefited more off of Black culture than music,” he says. “There are discussions that need to happen about this long history of not being paid fairly. It’s a time for listening, and hopefully, people will come out humbled, educated and willing to learn and change.”

By all accounts, Styles is a voracious reader, a movie lover and an aesthete. He stays in shape by adhering to a strict daily exercise routine. “I tried to keep up but didn’t last more than two weeks,” says Hull, Styles’ producer, with a laugh. “The discipline is terrifying.”

Of course, with the fashion world beckoning — Styles recently appeared in a film series for Gucci’s new collection that was co-directed by the fashion house’s creative director, Alessandro Michele, and Oscar winner Gus Van Sant — and a movie that’s set in the 1950s, maintaining that physique is part of the job. And he’s no stranger to visual continuity after appearing in Christopher Nolan’s epic “Dunkirk” and having to return to set for reshoots; his hair, which needed to be cut back to its circa 1940 form, is a constant topic of conversation among fans. This time, it’s the ink that poses a challenge. By Styles’ tally, he’s up to 60 tattoos, which require an hour in the makeup chair to cover up. “It’s the only time I really regret getting tattooed,” he says.

He shows no regret, however, when it comes to stylistic choices overall, and takes pride in his gender-agnostic portfolio, which includes wearing a Gucci dress on that Vogue cover— an image that incited conservative pundit Candace Owens to plead publicly to “bring back manly men.” In Styles’ view: “To not wear [something] because it’s females’ clothing, you shut out a whole world of great clothes. And I think what’s exciting about right now is you can wear what you like. It doesn’t have to be X or Y. Those lines are becoming more and more blurred.”

But acclaim, if you can believe it, is not top of mind for Styles. As far as the Grammys are concerned, Styles shrugs, “It’s never why I do anything.” His team and longtime label, however, had their hearts set on a showing at the Jan. 31 ceremony. Their investment in Styles has been substantial — not just monetarily but in carefully crafting his career in the wake of such icons as David Bowie, who released his final albums with the label. Hope at the company and in many fans’ hearts that Styles would receive an album of the year nomination did not come to pass. However, he was recognized in three categories, including best pop vocal album.

“It’s always nice to know that people like what you’re doing, but ultimately — and especially working in a subjective field — I don’t put too much weight on that stuff,” Styles says. “I think it’s important when making any kind of art to remove the ego from it.” Citing the painter Matisse, he adds: “It’s about the work that you do when you’re not expecting any applause.”

#harry styles #variety #021220

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hldailyupdate · 4 years

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This Charming Man: Why We’re Wild About Harry Styles

Variety’s Grammy-nominated Hitmaker of the Year goes deep on the music industry, the great pause and finding his own muses.

Styles has plainly thought about this.

Harry for Variety. (2 December 2020)

#harry styles #harry update #article #variety #hldaily #December 2020

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disregardcanon · 4 years

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rwby julie and the phantoms au featuring dead girl band rwby and jaune as the conduit. but like, jaune who just half-way cheated his way into music school

the year is 1995 and the girl band RWBY is a rising power in the indie music world. composed of four talented, each with a rich and interesting backstory for the public to latch onto, they’re well on their way to becoming LGBT icons- if not actual stars. weiss, blake, and yang are twenty and ruby is eighteen.

weiss schnee is the daughter of silicone valley tycoon jacques schnee, who made headlines when she cut off all her hair and ran away from home to join a queer girl band. she’s the second schnee daughter to leave home, winter having joined the military back in 1992. she’s the band’s lead vocalist, though she occasionally plays violin in tracks that they write it into.

blake belladonna is already a famous singer. she sprung onto the scene in 1992 in a duo known as “bellataurus”. acting as the full sonny and cher package, adam taurus served as both older boyfriend and older manager until blake broke from him and helped to form RWBY in 1994. she took her vocals, her piano skills, GUITAR skills, and her songwriting skills with her.

yang xiao long and ruby rose are legacies of the highest order. summer, raven, qrow, and tai formed a band when they were kids and they became some of the biggest rockstars of the seventies and eighties- and later some of the biggest scandals. raven and tai’s messy, public breakup after the birth of their daughter signaled the band’s death- but then the birth of tai and SUMMER’S child signaled an even bigger scandal. the tabloids had an absolute field day over the new baby.

yang learned lots of instruments, but mainly took up the drums from her dad. the same went for ruby, but she mainly stole qrow’s guitar and made him teach her to shred.

unfortunately, the media never stopped following the two kids around, even through ruby’s transition. in a mixed bag for the remnants of STRQ and their children, the media circus that followed ruby rose coming out as a girl in NINETEEN NINETY TWO. the remaining members of STRQ still had a lot of clout and fully put their support behind her, but transmisognyny’s a bitch and it still followed them everywhere. yang coming out publicly as a lesbian neither helped nor hindered the situation, but it did make ruby feel a bit less alone.

the girls formed their band about a year before their- uh, UNTIMELY deaths in 1995. this came 3 days after a confrontation between blake and adam, where she promised that she would never, EVER date him again. she wouldn’t even work with him again. she and her band were going to become stars and actually help make social changes, instead of them just bullying her into going along with whatever THEY want from her and keeping her mouth shut because politics kills careers.

they’re playing the ORPHEUM! the theater where so many bands have gotten their big break! she doesn’t need him now and she didn’t need him then.

eating bad street hot dogs after the warm up for a performance that blake promised adam 3 days ago would be the best that she ever gave- well. that’s just a weird coincidence, right?

cue 2020.

jaune arc has recently gotten into his first semester at a prestigious music college in the LA area, close to his family’s home where he still lives. the garage/studio out back remains largely untouched. half of that’s because cleaning the place out would be a lot of work, but half of it’s because his parents feel bad about the idea of cleaning out all of STRQ’s old recording equipment that both summer and tai promised they “didn’t want anymore” while selling the house in the wake of their daughters’ deaths.

it’s not like the area is really suitable as a garage, and the arcs can spare a little room just in case those people ever change their minds.. even though they haven’t in twenty five years.

jaune’s house isn’t completely empty because he still has one of his older sisters going to college in LA at the same time, but it’s preeetttyy empty. his parents are hands off at this point and don’t even wonder how their baby who never even took any music lessons has gotten into a school like this.

it’s not like he doesn’t sing and sing pretty well, but they’re not even certain he can read music. spoiler alert: he can’t.

jaune is actually VERY good at working by ear and performing, but his music education growing up was lacking. on all levels. his parents encouraged him to do sports as his primary activity and he had no time for anything else and his public school music ed did not get him what he needed to go to music school.

frankly, he doesn’t even know what a treble clef is called. so. he’s a bit behind when going into his college classes. he was only able to fake the paperwork to get into music theory II, but considering that he’s. uh, completely unaware of what those notes mean he’s a bit fucked.

he’s always just been able to pull the song out of his ass because he listened to enough music to learn stuff by ear, but now he’s supposed to work through all this stuff with notation and he MIGHT BE DYING

he’s assigned to a group project with ren and nora and pyrrha and, well, thank god pyrrha notices and is kind enough to try to fill in the cracks.

but there’s a lot of cracks, you know? he’s barely pulling the grades that he needs to not get kicked out of the program at the moment, and he’s not entirely sure how to go about getting an accompanist for his end of semester showcase and ren and nora are already working together (they both play guitar and sing together) and pyrrha’s a soloist and -

oh god, he’s going to get kicked out of this program, isn’t he?

pyrrha keeps talking him down out of the anxiety because she is very kind and has a very big crush because jaune still has noticed that she’s a pop star that wanted to (but is failing to) have a normal college experience.

she lets him borrow her copy of RWBY’s first and only album and lets him take it home to listen to it. he decides to listen to it in the studio because he knows that’s where music, at one point, happened.

and it of course summons the souls of all four girls. they have ghostly mischief as they try to figure out how to make things work, and realize that while people who aren’t jaune can’t see them- people can HEAR THEM. and then when they play along with jaune for his end of semester show case- they realize that people can SEE THEM when they play with him.

pyrrha is confused about why jaune’s hologram band looks so much like RWBY, and she’s a little jealous and hurt that he’s been keeping this from her while letting HER bear the brunt of helping him with his struggles. jaune doesn’t know how to say that yeah, those are the actual ghosts of RWBY.

petty drama, petty drama, the girls are feeling suffocated by the fact that they’re actually dead and can’t interact with anyone who’s alive. ruby decides to go clear her head and meets another, very sweet and enthusiastic ghost named penny who likes to skateboard.

penny is very sweet and ruby has what is known in show biz as a CRUSH. ruby learns a bit about how this ghost stuff works from her (some powers, about the unfinished business being what’s tying them to the land of the living, that she is VERY GAY) and she comes back to her friends to say hello yes i know things now and am also gay. wasn’t positive about that before but it’s a fact now

here’s where i lose my thread and am too tired to find it again but other things

1. ironwood is the villain of this. if you’re familiar with jatp, he serves the same function as caleb covington if not the exact same motives. he seals souls to him by a contract but with the express purpose of building a safe afterlife for ghosts... by making sure that all of them are under his control. winter, who died in one of the united state’s middle eastern campaigns is his right hand ghost.

weiss is majorly conflicted by this because. it’s winter, you know? it’s winter. and it seems like this guy is trying to make things better for ghosts, right? he’s got a homebase and he can make them visible sometimes and make it so they can eat food and lots of stuff. but it comes with a heavy level of control.

he doesn’t go after the girls until later because he thinks that they’ll come back, but when he DOES... the fact that he owns penny’s soul and doesn’t see her or any of the souls under his control as full people comes up in an ugly way.

2. adam taurus is the trevor wilson of this, but waaaayyy worse. he did in fact kill the girls and pillaged what he could of blake’s songs to record and put out under his own name. he‘s a big star, but a fading one, and he has a few vengeful ghost coming for him.

3. winter is a ghost, but whitley is a ghost of himself. at this point he’s forty and still doesn’t even know what he wants because he’s molded himself into what his dad wants so thoroughly. getting him to realize that he wants more and wants things for himself definitely comes up. winter also helps take down ironwood and free the souls. eventually

4. jaune IS a necromancer. he’s going to be able to see penny and others and eventually can give ghosts the power they need to be seen whenever they want. RWBYJNPR eventually becomes a big band that plays together sometimes

5. raven only came back for a few days for yang and ruby’s funeral before disappearing. qrow fell from grace quite dramatically when he accused adam taurus of murder with no evidence and became the laughing stock of america. he kept trying to find something that would fill the holes in his life, but he hasn’t lucked out with that yet... except the alcoholism, maybe.

tai and summer are still together, but they’re pretty miserable and they moved far away from LA to get out of the spotlight.

RWBY gets summer, tai, and qrow back together on purpose... and raven shows up when she sees her dead daughter singing on national television. the STRQ reunion is awkward and stilted, but things get better from there.

strq instruments

summer: vocalist with some piano

raven and qrow: bass and standard guitar respectively with some vocals

tai: drummer with some vocals

6. pyrrha and jaune eventually actually become the great duo that adam tried to market himself and blake as. sorry not sorry

7. not sure how they do it but they DO prove that adam murdered them and all of them including qrow get Vindication TM

8. the bumbleby isn’t a big plot point but they were dancing around getting together when they died and it happens slowly once they’re back <3

#rwby aus #jaune arc #team rwby #team strq #arkos #nuts and dolts #bumbleby #ruby rose #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #schneeblings

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thecrownrp · 3 years

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THE KINGDOM OF SPADES PRESENTS . . .

one of the PRIVATE KNIGHTS, KIM SEOKMIN: a 28 YEAR OLD born on FEBRUARY 15TH, 1992. some may know them already but with a face like that, it’s hard not to admit they look a little like WOO DOHWAN. curious to know more? apparently, these are words they live by: “you come any closer and i will beat you to a pulp.” intriguing, aren’t they? only time will tell if they’re suited for knighthood or not.

LOOK A LITTLE CLOSER . . .

tw: death

1. BIRTH IN THE KINGDOM - NOBLE FAMILY

born to two VERY notable and beloved families of knights. he wasn’t necessarily ‘loved’ or ‘spoiled’ but he was raised as a STEREOTYPICAL rich only son would, only this type was because of the knights power. other royals were scared of his family. his parents were hard on anyone who dared to go against their son, even if he was in the wrong. growing up seokmin wasn’t a bully, but people knew not to mess with him. he was always on his best behavior, and had a handful of friends. he kept his studies up, but he did allow himself happy memories.

2. MET YURYE ( 1999 )

when yurye and his mother joined the kingdom ( 1999 ), his father was tasked to being the personal guard of the king’s mistress. this was an important job for his father and he took it very seriously. because they weren’t far in age, seokmin’s father and the king thought it would be best if the two bonded. this would make the oath even stronger when the time came for seokmin to become yurye’s personal guard. a year later yurye’s mother was killed on orders of the queen, ( chul poisoned her, to save himself and his sister. ). her death became a large weight on his father’s shoulders and he quickly went to try and find the person responsible. the queen pinned the death on sungchul’s sister and quickly put her to death.

seokmin’s father jinseok didn’t believe the ruling. it not only was too easy for them to find, and it didn’t feel completely right. so quietly behind the scenes jinseok began looking for clues, and finding holes in the story. ( to be continued… )

3. ENTER INTO KNIGHTHOOD AT 13 ( 2005 )

seokmin always knew that he would follow in his family’s legacy and become a knight. throughout his life, even before him volunteering had always been focused on training and learning different types of martial arts. he always trained on different tactics to keep the prince or princess that he was in charge of safe from any harm that would come to them. during his training he continuously made perfect marks in taekwondo, disarming, and his shooting. seokmin’s fighting style is a combination of TAEKWONDO and JUJITSU. he’s not afraid of harming another person if it means keeping yurye safe. he is able to quickly disarm an attacker and have them on the ground before they know what has happened. but he is also not afraid to take a bullet if he has to.

4. RISING IN THE RANKS ( 2007-2009 )

from the start to the finish of his training, the instructors only expected the best from him. being in a family with generations of knights, you’re expected to know all the rules and exactly how to behave. which he did, and he never disappointed them. his first two years of training went by like a breeze. it wasn’t any different then his home life was, other than his parents being the ones who were training him to become stronger, it was the training officers.

when he turned sixteen he shadowed countless knights to learn tips from as many knights as he could, when he wasn’t learning the kingdom’s map. during his training days he learned how to detect falsehoods (lying, disorder, and schemes) as well as focusing on even the smallest details. seokmin did so well during training he was immediately requested to begin his role of private knight once he turned eighteen for yurye.

5. MARRIED SOMIN [ NPC ] - KNIGHT ALLEGANCE/LOVE ( 2017 )

same scene repeats, my thoughts tangled underneath these sheets. turn out the lights and i won’t lie, i’ve got sinning on my mind.

from as long as he could remember he had always been promised to somin and her family. it was something that was expected to keep their bloodline strong. to always have knights carry on the line. so when the two families knew they were having children of opposite gender they promised each other that their families would unite. which they did. from a young age they knew they were promised to each other, so they always tried and get along. they fought like any child/teen would but they always stood by each other. through the years they grew a bond much greater than a bond a relationship would bring someone. they were like two halves of the same whole, and complimented each other well. when both seokmin and somin turned 25 ( 2017 ) they married. their marriage was just like their life before marriage, just now they had a title and shared a bed. this time was the happiest for seokmin. he had the love of his life, the job that he had dreamed of growing up. everything was almost falling into place too well.

6. DISAPPEARANCE OF HIS FAMILY ( 2019 )

you let your feet run wild, time has come as we all, oh, go down. yeah but for the fall, oh cause they will run you down, down till the dark….and way down we go.

in December of 2019 seokmin’s father gathered several of his friends and began planning a coup against the queen. when everything went down jinseok was very smart about every decision he made. when the coup obviously failed everyone went into hiding and burned every trace of their plans. but one member of this group didn’t follow through with the promise and plans. he took his plans and planted them to be found with someone else before fleeing the country. chef chen was the unfortunately the person that the person had chosen.

jinseok’s actions weren’t a surprised for his wife. it was revenge that he was seeking. it was the knight’s code. he had to make things right for the woman that he failed to protect. the first time he didn’t taste the food before she ate or drank something she died. now he was responsible for finding the truth. but he knew if he didn’t run, he would be jailed or worse. and very soon it would be proven correctly in their family’s eyes.

7. DEATH OF SOMIN [ OPEN PLOT ] ( 2020 )

if you must die, sweetheart die knowing your life was my life’s best part if you must die remember your life

somin was the only person besides yurye he had left in his life. every member of his family had gone into hiding, and to keep seokmin safe they cut off all communication with him. even though no-one knew the truth seokmin couldn’t help but feel a weight on his heart. but he still had somin, or at least he believed that he did. somin more times than not accompanied yanyu whenever she wanted to go out. right before valentines day somin needed to get some things for her valentine’s date with seokmin, she invited yanyu out with her to try and make her feel better after her father was sent to jail for the “coup”.

while out and about together somin was attacked and was killed. yanyu was distraught and was escorted back by a few knights. seokmin was told immediately. yurye even helped with not going out for a little while so seokmin could plan the funeral and somewhat try and mourn. but he really couldn’t. he felt the need to find who exactly took his love from him. but till this day he has no idea who killed her. but there is one thing that he suspects. he suspects the queen had some king of involvement.

8. SEOKMIN’S RAGE ( 2020-PRESENT )

seokmin knows that in life there is no such thing as coincidence. he knows that the queen is behind his wife’s murder. with her murder still unsolved seokmin’s rage only grows. with each passing day he mentally plots different ways he could get his revenge. but he knows that he can not allow his vision to get too clouded. he still has to protect yurye. yurye is the only thing in the world he has left. sadly, if he had to choose between keeping yurye safe, or finding the truth about his wife’s murder he would always choose keeping yurye safe.

#cwnfollow #cwn kingdom: spades #cwn rank: knight

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lunasilvermorny · 4 years

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When your worst fear come true.

Winter, 1997.

Talbott was the one that got the call.

He stood up almost immediately and ran out of the room to catch Tonks before she leaves.

“Sorry, mate.” Tonks said before he had a chance to say anything. “I know there’s a call, but I have to be somewhere else.”

“It’s-“

“Nope, I’m off the clock. We’ll talk tomorrow-“

“Listen.” He blocked her way, shooting her an extremely serious look. “The address – it’s Luna’s parents’ house.”

Tonks froze and stared at him for a few seconds, before her mind caught up to the severity of the situation. “You mean-?”

“Her father, probably.”

“Oh, no.” Tonks murmured. “Let’s go.”

They didn’t even try to follow procedure, they just left as fast as possible. Three seconds have past before they stood in front of the house. The front door was open and the Dark Mark was floating in the sky a few meters above the roof.

A high-pitched cry cut through the air, followed by loud sobbing. They didn’t wait any longer and went inside, passed through the long corridor and into the large living room. Luna was sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, cradling the body of her little sister. Another loud cry burst out of her throat, so intense that it cracked mid-way through and turned into choked shrieks. She wasn’t aware of their presence yet.

Tonks turned to look at the body of the old man that was on the ground half a meter from Luna – it was her father. She and Talbott exchanged looks and without saying a word, managed to have an understanding on how to handle the situation.

With slow steps, Talbott headed toward Luna. He lowered himself to her level; his bent knees supported his weight, as he said with a soft voice- “Luna.”

She jumped away from him, not letting go of her little sister and shoved her wand in front of his face. After a moment of hesitation, she realized who she’s looking at and lowered her wand. Her dirty tears were mixed with make-up and smeared on her cheeks. An expression of complete horror filled her face.

“What happened?” he asked with the same soft voice.

Luna turned to look at Tonks that examined her father’s body and then back at Talbott. She struggled to speak without tears making her choke up, but after a few second of breathing, she said in a trembling voice- “Death Eater. Used the killing curse on them. According to…” her breaths became heavier.

Talbott gently patted her shoulder, whispering- “Take your time.” It helped calm her down enough to keep going.

“According to the state… the state of the bodies…” she wiped out the new tears that emerged from her eyes. “It happened about four hours ago, at least.” She closed her eyes and tightened her grip on her little sister. “The Death Eater left a… a…”

“This.” Tonks said and raised a sheet of paper for Talbott to see. “But I don’t think it was intentional, because it looks like some sort of code.”

Luna’s expression turned from horrified to enraged.

“It’s because of me.” She whispered in an accusatory tone.

“Luna-“ Tonks started to say, but Luna cut her off immediately.

“I don’t want to hear anything from you!” Luna roared. “It’s your fault – THE ORDER’S FAULT!”

“No, it’s-“

“What? A coincidence?!” Luna said furiously. “They knew I help you! That’s why they killed her!”

Tonks looked helpless. Tears starting to fill her eyes as well, but she managed to get a hold of her emotions in time. “No, Luna-“

“SHUT UP!” Luna screamed at her from the top of her lungs and Tonks fell silence.

“Maybe you should get that paper to evidence.” Talbott said calmly, his voice was firm but still compassionate.

Tonks seemed like she didn’t want to leave, but after a few more seconds of silence, nodded her head and apparated.

Luna turned to look at Talbott, tears running down her cheeks again. “I did this.” She started trembling.

Talbott wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. “I know how you feel right now.” She was about to say something, but he repeated- “I know.” Their eyes met and were locked in a gaze that expressed the same guilt and pain. They both knew how it feels to lose their family to the Death Eaters.

Luna lowered her head, leaned on his shoulder and started sobbing again. It was a quite cry. A defeated cry.

After Luna managed to calm down again, Talbott asked- “Where are Jana and Lilia?”

“Gone.” Luna said quietly, unintentionally, because she lost a significant amount of her vocal abilities by exhausting her vocal chords. “Not in the house, but all of their belongings are still here.”

“We’ll find them.” Talbott said. “Alive.” He added when he saw the helpless look on her face.

She shook her head. “They’re dead, I know it.”

“No, they’re not.” He insisted. “I will do everything I can, I swear.”

Luna kept shaking her head, but didn’t say anything else. She knew that Talbott is patiently waiting for her to get over the initial shock, so he could bring a unit to examine the crime scene.

“You can’t be on this case.” She said suddenly. “If the moles knew you’re here-“

“Do you really think Death Eaters haven’t came after me already?” he said with a bitter smile. “Trust me, I’ll be fine.”

“If you die in this house too-“

“No one else is going to die.” He reassured her, gently smearing the fresh tears off her cheeks. “We won’t let them get away with it.”

“No,” Luna shook her head and slowly pulled away from him, still holding onto Olivia’s body. “No, it’s my fault. You will die, everyone will die-!”

“Luna.” He said with a firm voice, but the hysteria got the better of her.

“They know. They’re watching me. I have to disappear. That’s the only way.”

“They were after your father regardless.”

“But Olivia!” She whisper-screamed in panic. “They killed her to send a message!”

“We don’t know that yet-“

“I have to go. You have to go!”

He never saw her like this. Even in the worst situations, Luna was always able to keep a calm appearance and stay levelheaded. Losing her entire family in one day was a shock too extreme to handle, even for someone as strong as her.

She quickly pushed herself to her feet, still hanging onto her dead sister, holding her in her arms like an overgrown child. Talbott followed her, but tried to keep a small distance so not to startle her.

“Funeral.” She murmured. “We have to do it quickly.”

“Luna, let’s put Olivia on the couch for a moment-“

Luna turned her back at him and started to walk from the point she was standing to the nearest wall and back.

“We can’t have it out in the open, it has to remain a secret. There’s a muggle-church nearby-“

“Luna, give me Olivia.” Talbott said and tried to remain calm, even though he started to feel the burden of her pain too. Seeing his closest friend in this condition was heartbreaking.

She ignored him. “I… I have a phone. I can call them. I need to find a spot where the magic won’t block the signal.”

“Stop for a second.” He reached out to her, but she dodged his touch.

“Maybe cremation would be the best option-“

“Luna, stop!” he snapped and grabbed her by the wrist. She looked like she’s just woke up from a dream.

“I… I…” she wasn’t able to finish the sentence.

“I know.” He said and very slowly and gently put his arms around Olivia and pulled her from her big sister’s grasp. He laid her down on the couch and got back to Luna, that buried her face in her palms.

“I’ll help with the funeral, we’ll do it as quickly as you want, but first I have to-“

“Yes.” Luna interrupted, lowering her hands and turn to look straight at him. Her gaze was almost soulless. “You need to examine the bodies.”

“I know you probably want to do it yourself, but you’re not in the right state of mind right now.” He pulled her into another embrace. “If we want to catch these fuckers, we have to do it right.”

Luna sighed loudly and wrapped her arms around his torso.

“Fine, I understand.” She said in a monotone voice. “But I’m not leaving them.”

“There’s no need for that.” He said. “You can stay here the whole time, and I’ll be here too. I promise.”

With another long sigh coming out of her mouth, Talbott knew he got through to her.

-----

I know it’s a bit cliche to say that you can split Luna’s life in two - before she lost her family and after she lost her family, but it also very realistic, since a trauma at this scale can change anyone forever.

She was never the same, especially because she lost Olivia as well - the only person she believed could live a happy and normal life out of her entire family.

Also, I know Jacob is absent, it’s because right now he has two potential paths that I haven’t decided on yet - the first where he dies and the second where he survives... You can call him Schrödinger's cat until I pick one. Either way, he wasn’t there when she found the bodies or had the funeral, so in any case he’s irrelevant.

I wrote a bit more about the situation, but I’ll save it for another post!

For those who read the whole thing - I hope you liked it!

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fonmythenmetz · 4 years

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My atsuhina/msby-stan take for what happened after msby vs adlers match.

Hinata wanted to join Asas for the world championship, right.

Atsumu figured that Hinata��s ‘hunger’ was pushing him forward, to go further, to climb higher; he was frustrated and angry - same goes for Sakusa and Bokuto and the others, just maybe not as intense as in Atsumu’s case - (and he couldn’t really explain why, maybe because Hinata didn’t see them as good enough players? They all worked their hardest), so before Hinata’s departure he made another promise - something along “if you’re struggling to fight with the best and play with the best, then I’ll make this place the top of the world and you’ll come back”. That’s why his phrase in Olympic roster (2020) is “i will become number 1”. By the way, when the Japanese volleyball season started, jackals were absolute beasts (maybe they shared Atsumu’s feelings). In the olympic team interview (2021) Kageyama - who doesn’t even play in Japan anymore, he’s an international player now - says: “Results-wise, I’m still behind Atsumu-san”. Since there’re only 2 setters in the national team, there’s no one better then these two. So by 2021 Atsumu is #1 Japan setter.

Hinata is ready to go to Brazil for the second half of the season (2019/2020) with the best recommendations from Volleyball Association, but then pandemic happens.

I assume that japanese olympic team in haikyuu is formed according to generations (there was no one younger/older then them, only Hinata’s ‘generation’: previous third, second and first years), so the next olympic roster will consist of another generation; after 2021, coach Hibaridai and his colleagues saw no profit in investing in Hinata.

However, coach Foster and coach Banjou did not approve this, so they concluded a truce (for a short period of time! They’re rivals after all.

Spoiler: they grew fond of each other and want to be friends, but they’re both awkward, and coach Foster talks in his own language (a mix of English & kansai-ben & pantomime) which only msby can fully understand). Together they find a friend of a friend of the Asas’ head coach. Somehow with the help of google translate and Hinata they arrange a partnership programme between Black Jackals and Asas. Kuroo gets enthusiastic about it, so when the quarantine is over, msby flies for their first practice match with Asas São Paulo. It’s august 2020.

When they arrive, it’s late night; Atsumu locks himself in a hotel room, conflicted about how he feels - he can’t decide if he’s angry at Hinata for underestimating him and not acknowledging his life-long struggle, or happy that they will play the practice match together - well. He likes playing with Hinata. What’s wrong with that? It’s not like he missed him or anything. It’s about volleyball, alright?

Hinata has high school flashbacks; he remembers what Takeda-sensei said - “it is all about volleyball”, and he wonders where volleyball even ends. In Karasuno his closest friends were also his teammates, and all their activities were focused on volleyball. Karasuno - and rivalry with Kageyama - taught him to never look back, always look up and never slow down - because he had nothing but his jump and speed, and if he ever allowed a pause, he’d be defeated and left behind completely alone. Msby is the polar opposite of Karasuno. Sure, they stick to their diets; but on cheat days they are the main cheaters in the world and eat whatever gods send them. They are unorganized and every day with them is a blockbuster. They get into fights with neighbors’ dogs, they steal chopsticks from Osamu’s to build a miniature Skytree. They’re lazy and laid-back, they don’t do plans - it’s a principle. They have other jobs. But they’re passionate about volleyball, and when the moment comes, they always give their best shot. Hinata wonders if this, what he feels towards them, is solely about volleyball and great teamwork. Wait a minute. Maybe Karasuno was also not only for volleyball?..

Anyway, the more he thinks about this team, the more attached he feels, and it is suffocating.

He has to be free, he cannot allow to be restricted, or he’ll be left behind and forgotten. He knows that. Everybody said that - “you’re only good because of Kageyama”, “if not for your jump, you would never even sniff the ball”.

He doesn’t have to read the language of Atsumu-san’s tosses: this one is fast and close to the net - “smash them!”, a high one, drawing a beautiful arc - “play as you want”, tentative, with the warmth of his fingertips still on the leather - “let’s take it slow, their blockers are good...”, and that laser accurate, flash-fast, faster then ever - “go wild!” Everybody on the team can understand it - their ability to unite and read each other’s mind is almost paranormal, or animalistic, like they’re a pack of wolves communicating through scents and touches and small noises and grunts, on and off the court. Hinata wants them to win together, then go home and watch an episode of the Office, or do yoga, or play twister, or maybe even yoga twister (Omi-senpai always wins), then tuck his head under Inunaki-san’s elbow and beg him to caress his hair, almost feeling a pair of tall jackal’s ears atop of his own head, quivering from pleasure and support and acknowledgement, expressed in their unique inner fashion.

However, if he stays with msby, he won’t move forward. He’ll be overpowered and defeated, he’ll lose recommendations and his chance to play as many matches as he wants. Just like Karasuno, msby is a step in his development. When there’s a chance, he must go further.

So Hinata sits in the hotel lobby and thinks his strange thoughts, and there’s a delivery guy with a huge green bag waiting for someone. He’s in his early twenties and is stupidly tall, and judging by the sounds coming from his little tablet, he is watching a volleyball match. Hinata peeks at the screen and freezes: it’s a close-up of Omi-senpai. It’s a game that he doesn’t remember; well, after signing a contract with Asas he didn’t watch many of the Jackals’ games, focused more on South American League.

“Musubi Black Jackals”, - the guy explains, Japanese syllables clumsy on his tongue, noticing his awkward and almost starved glances. - “Antes do covid.”

Apparently, it’s Jackals’ last match before the quarantine. Hinata sits and silently watches. He is amazed to the core and maybe scared of them.

It’s almost five in the morning when Meian crawls out of his hotel room. There’s Oliver sprawled on the floor, futon miserably stuffed under his left knee, like a cloud that fails to cover Telamon’s body. He probably likes futons way too much for someone who can’t ask in Japanese where is the closest toilet. Meian sneaks into the street and looks for a vending machine. He remembers seeing one in the evening.

There it is. There’s also a man crouching before it, taking out his purchase. Meian politely stops several feet away and waits for his turn. The man does not move away. He looks like he’s fishing for something inside the vending machine. He’s rather tall and has an awful hairstyle.

The man looks at him, visibly irritated, and moves his hand. That is when Meian realises.

- Yer stuck? - he asks, then remembers that he is in damned Brazil where folk speaks damned Portuguese. The guy gives him a deadpan look. Meian looks up - there’s a beautiful can of cucumber flavored soda staring right at him, and he isn’t a quitter. Maybe Hirugami could quit here, but he’s a captain of Jackals and he gets his soda when he wants it. Fifteen minutes later he’s sweating like after a good game, having been waiving his hands and giving directions like a pro adjuster at Shibuya Crossing. The guy is free now. He pulls out a can of guarana drink and even smirks at him in a gesture of prickly gratitude, though it cannot fully hide the humiliation of being caught with your hand stuck in a vendine machine at five in the morning. Meian throws in money, watches his cucumber soda gracefully plop down, stuffs his arm in the drawer and tries to pull out. He’s stuck. The guy watches him from the side, leaning on the wall with his left shoulder, and Meian tries to act like he knows what he’s doing. Why hasn’t this bonehead left anyway?

After another fifteen minutes they’re both tired and both free. Meian clenches the can in his fist, refusing to look at the guy, but they simultaneously nod in a sense of solidarity before parting ways.

Later this day he wonders what kind of wicked fortune is that, standing in the centre of Asas’ main court and looking straight in the bonehead’s eyes. He’s introduced as the Asas’ captain.

Inunaki suspiciously glances at him.

- Have you two met before? - He asks with a hint of politeness, but there’s that ‘lie to me now and I’ll tell your pups that you drink cucumber soda at five in the morning” subtext. Kotarou, Omi-chan and Shouyo stand right here, so the threat is very much real.

- No, - he lies anyway, and everybody on the court knows he’s lying, including Inunaki, Kotarou, Omi-chan and Shouyo, and maybe even the Asas’ captain with his stupid blondie hairstyle.

- He drank cucumber soda at five in the morning, - Thomas says. Omi-Chan and Shouyo both snort, but Kotarou, the marvelous oldest pup, launches at him and whines: “Where did you get one??”

Asas’ players watch them from the sidelines. They’re already amazed and irritated, and Meian can’t wait for it.

Of course it doesn’t work as a one-time thing. Of course Shouyo is accepted. One day Meian walks in on Inunaki, Thomas and the Asas’ middle blockers singing Funky Town in their hotel room (outsiders are not allowed in hotel rooms. How did two guys over 6’5” even get here unnoticed?). When it’s time to leave, Asas’ captain - his name is Paulo, talk about coincidences - insults him in Portuguese for five minutes straight and tells him to get lost already.

- Let go of my sleeve then, - Meian says. Sometimes he thinks they have the same telepathy that Shouyo and Omi-chan share, because after two weeks of hunting for crabs and practicing volleyball and playing on the beach he can tell if Paulo talks shit about him. Apparently, it goes both ways.

- Release my jacket first, - Paulo says (Meian supposes he says it - he’s still not good at Portuguese, except maybe for curses). - Cucumber soda tastes like shit, - Paulo adds in a very very bad Japanese. Meian is nearly flustered, because the bonehead must have asked Jackals how to say that and then has been practicing. He grabs him in a headlock.

- Listen here, - he makes a serious face, - if Shouyo gets as much as a scratch, or complains about ya being an asshole, I personally come here to kick yer in the head. Understood?

There’s no point in worrying about Shouyo, though. He’s already made friends with everybody in Asas, especially with that tall libero boy who works in delivery. He stands there in the airport lobby with his new teammates, visibly forcing the corners of his mouth upwards. He’s clinging to Omi-chan’s sleeve like his life depends on it. Atsumu looks anywhere but at him.

- Atsumu-san, - Shouyo suddenly says, - I’m watching you. I won’t skip a single match, I promise.

Atsumu flinches and freezes in place.

- O-okay, - he declares, frowning.

- Watch us, - Bokuto corrects him, hugging his number one disciple one last time before the airport stuff snaps and shouts all of their names through speakers. That’s a brilliant departure show.

When Jackals win the championship, no one is surprised. Paulo has the decency to make an “omg, really?” face only because Meian can’t hit him through videochat. Asas are also terrifically strong. It’s late spring, Brasil Superliga is not over yet, so they fly to Rio, occupying Asas’ gym and playing on the beach and going to watch games for free. (When coach Foster and coach Preto finally met, they knocked over a trolley with suitcases running to hug each other like a pair of middle schoolers.) (So did Shouyo and the msby.)

Apparently Shouyo feels better now; he’s almost run out of sunscreen and worked on whatever complicated issues he had, so he’s ready to come back. Atsumu looks like he’s already won Olympics. So do Bokuto and Sakusa and the others, and maybe they missed him a little, or maybe they missed him very very fucking much.

One day (it’s a good day, it’s sunny and hot and there’s a wonderful fat thundercloud crawling at Copacabana from the seaside) a group of tall Spanish tourists occupy the beach courts. They argue and bicker and throw sand at each other. One of them accidentally catches a ball to the head (what the heck was he doing on this court anyway? Bokkun and Atsumu were in the middle of the game against Heitor and Carlos). Now they’re all arguing. They have no idea what the Spanish guys are saying because they don’t know Spanish, and still they somehow agree on a match. Atsumu hits five service aces, which is very sexy of him, and it seems that the Spanish setter (who hits four service aces) is not immune to a good server’s charm. After the match (Bokuatsu get 21 against 13, the Spanish wing spiker moved like a fish in the sand) he approaches the net, adjusting his flashy sunglasses, and tries to introduce himself in not-very-fluent Portuguese. His name is Oikawa and he is from Japan. Where are you guys from? - he asks. - Are you professionals or something?

This is how the whole Argentinian team Club Atletico (2020/2021 Argentinian championship silver medal - the year before covid they got first place) ends up in the Asas’ gym. Coach Blanco and coach Preto are old rivals, and they challenge each other to an arm wrestling competition, but then somebody jokes about holding hands (it was coach Foster) and they suggest volleyball instead. They schedule a practice match. It’d be impolite to leave msby outside of the party, so there’ll be three practice matches between Black Jackals (with Shouyo this time. Finally), Asas São Paulo and Club Atletico. All of them are high-ranked teams. It’d be so cool if they could get involved with each other more often, - someone says (it’s coach Foster). Nobody seems opposed to the idea, especially Shouyo, Sakusa, Bokuto, Atsumu, Oikawa and Oliver Barnes, who are already playing air hockey in the Argentinians’ hotel. How did they even get there? Anyways, Oliver wins and gets a huge hazelnut ice cream for his cheat day. In the evening, after defeating Heitor and Carlos (again) and losing to Santos and Fernandez (again), they shower in the beach stalls. The stalls don’t really have anything resembling doors, so one has to hold a big towel or something, guarding the way, while the other gets to shower. Shouyo asks Inunaki-san to hold a towel for him. “Sure”, - Inunaki-san says, and then catches Atsumu: “Sugar, could you please hold this? I want to help Adriah and Paulo with dinner”. Atsumu does not refuse - he’s not that busy and he has no idea who is inside the stall. After Inunaki-san leaves, he takes a glance over the towel.

Ten minutes later Oikawa approaches him with a huge alien-themed towel in hands.

- Are you okay? - He asks with uncharacteristic concern, because Atsumu looks like he has been simmered on the surface of this ugly beach shower stall, and - are those tears? So Oikawa calls out to whoever is showering there, assuming that Atsumu is just tired and maybe has got sunburn all over his body.

#black jackals #haikyuu!!#hinata shouyou #miya atsumu #atsuhina #msby black jackal #msby black jackals #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu spoilers #haikyuu 402 #bokuto kotaro #meian shūgo #inunaki shion #thomas adriah #tomas adriah #oliver barnes #samson foster #oikawa tooru

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kaleidoscopeheartandsoul · 4 years

Text

Lie to Me Theory: Music Video

Start Here: Lie to Me Theory: Timeline

There is no way to beat around this part of theory. It must be approached directly and bravely. All of what has happened in the timeline to here has left people distracted. So no one would be looking for the ultimate truth in a video about lying. Luke is singing. He addresses four different people. Everyone is represented by cars: three different parties. Two different agendas for being in relationships. All stemming from one reason.

First we need to talk about the two truly significant elements of the Lie to Me Music Video: the lyrics and the center car.

What do we mean by lyrics? The ones available on AZlyrics or Genius? The ones they’re singing? Not this time.

From the video description.

Artist frequently put their lyrics in the description of their videos. 5SOS does this on a number of their videos. This is the only one of their videos where the lyrics in the description 1. from a different version of the song and 2. have a typo in them

Here is one of the screenshots of the LTM Official MV that I took.

These were the official lyrics that Ashton, Calum and Luke wrote with Ali Tamposi. And then a very talented and good female singer, Julia Michaels, was brought in so they could make the official lyrics publicly available

It is strange that they would do this. Why not just leave both versions of the lyrics under the proper versions of each video? Unless the lyrics of the official audio version aren’t actually the right lyrics.

It is careless and weird that the grammar on most of their videos (all of their other music videos) is good and then suddenly on LTM the first typo on a music video appears. They would have caught it and fixed it by now, surely.

These boys don’t know how to spell “Change” huh? ‘Chang’

Don’t know how to edit the description of a YouTube video? Forgot to? Don’t care to? Remember when Michael told Luke on twitter to go back to school.

Change is the only word mispelled in the description of any of their music videos...because the lyrics were “Changed.”

Yes, it is entirely possible something this cryptic occurred.

Think Think Think

The cleverness within this band should not be underestimated. Time and time again, artists under Modest! have used covert means to convey the truth of their situations without the majority of their audiences noticing.

These in the description are the original lyrics of LTM. The lyrics of the official release were changed to fit the image that management wanted to promote. This seems to be the implication, so interpretation of the music video rests on these lyrics and not the ones they are singing.

Symbolic Cars

This part was easy for people to pick up on.

Represented on the passenger side of the center car by 96 like Hemmo1996.

Then there’s the other side of the car.

Represented on the driver’s side of the center car by these two lower-cased letters: ae. So who’s ae?

There are a number of options for people special enough in Luke’s life that he might want in the car with him, in fact, a person he cares enough about that that person might be the driver. A person with ae in their name. So there’s a lot of those. What narrows down the options is that ae is a person who is close to Luke but in the same situation as Luke. They are both circled by cars that represent threats to their wellbeing. So you can decide who ae is. It couldn’t be a coincidence that this video was released the week of Michael Clifford’s engagement. That would be ludicrous.

Now we can talk about the video story

L can see the mess before he agrees to be a part of it. The two cars are already circling like sharks before he gets into the car. He still gets into the car, sitting in the backseat. He’s surrendered for the next half of the video. Pain and heartbreak etched into his face.

The circling cars represent “toxic people” like Ashton clued. So the circling cars are toxic relations.

He addresses the first chorus primarily to the circling car with toxic person #1. This is a person who left him not only emotionally fraught but publicly humiliated him and scarred his reputation, then dropped all responsibility for fun and left him to do the clean up.

And now I wish we never met

because you are too hard to forget

While I’m cleaning up your mess

I know he’s taking off your dress

And I know that you don’t, but if I ask you if you love me

I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me

The easy interpretation:

1. The person involved is sleeping with someone else but L isn’t angry that he’s been betrayed. Maybe because he loves her so much he could even forgive that...or maybe because he actually never loved her.

2. Her marks on his life still causes a lot of grief because she publicly humiliated him and took no responsibility, so this is why all his regret stems from being stuck in the dump she threw him into

3. But he’s in communication with her---so he can ask her questions. Like if she still loves him. But that doesn’t make sense if he didn’t even like her that much.

“LTM represents when someone is in a relationship for something other than what you are there for.” Like fame or publicity, but Luke is using her for something else entirely.

Luke was being used because he was in a vulnerable situation. He still is in a vulnerable situation. It made it easy for others to hurt him but he didn’t rely on them.

He starts by regretting the toxic relationship, but in these last two lines, he is turning to a different person, his person.

Luke’s voice lifts at the end of each chorus as he turns to his last hope. “And I know that you don’t” because he sees how disgusted the person must be by the situation “but if I ask you if you love me, I hope you lie...” I hope you’ll love me. Despite how much you couldn’t--don’t like me.

It’s 3 am and the moonlight’s testing me

I know you’ve been holding onto someone else

And now I can’t sleep (Ah)

I ain’t happy, oh

I ain’t too happy, oh

This verse starts immediately after the first time we get to see the driver’s side of the car where it says ae. This is extremely coincidental. It’s shifting focus onto another person.

So he’s addresses ae basically, ‘I feel tested. I’ve turned to you and begged you to take me, but you’ve been acting like me, holding on to the same stories I’ve been through with a toxic person. It worries me. I am not happy. But I am also not mad at you.’

Luke holds back from accusing ae even though he would like to. He is wounded again by ae’s actions but he does not want to outright blame ae for the situation that they are both stuck in the center of.

Flashing back to New York City

Chang your flight so you stay with me

Remember thinking that I got this right

‘Flashing back’ is when we recall memories. Nostalgia sets in for a better time. The first pre-chorus, Luke has a balance he is reminiscing about when he at the time thought he could balance both of his relationships perfectly. There was turmoil of course--the need to re-negotiate flights because of a mess up with leaving to New York--but it was alright after that and that’s why he was led into a false sense of security that he got this “right.” Did anyone ever have to change flights when they were trying to leave New York city because of a mistake.

It’s funny that I thought this typo was on purpose because the official lyric again is ‘Change your flight so you stay with me’ but if it was really meant to be ‘changed’ then it would fit a dual purpose, warning us about the lyric flop and talking about that one time someone had their flight changed when they were trying to stay with Luke too. I’m dropping hints like bombs but I’m not saying what I’m talking about yet and it’s hilarious and terrible. Later post I promise.

Flashing back to New York City

I was done but you undid me

Classic me to run when it feels right

The second time, Luke runs away from New York City, symbol of stability and security within his relationship with ae. He was done--he didn’t have any interest in connection with any of the toxic ones--but you undid me--again the theme of being humiliated and having a slaughtered reputation, the pain that goes with that. And now after the 3am verse Luke is with ae, and done with TP #1, but ae’s ‘someone else,’ the second circling car, the other toxic person, is there to ruin Luke’s life again but by being attached to ae. This time Luke wants out. He’s so done already but this person is causing him double the agony that the last one did because he’s involving someone he cares for deeply. And he leaves the car before either of the circling cars smash into it. There is no Luke to hurt. Luke got out when “it feels right.” He knew this time that things were going well with ae but he gave up on ae because he was tired.

While Luke was humiliated, and went through a great deal of grief because of his toxic relationship, at no time during the car collisions do we see 96. Instead, the footage of the driver’s side of the car with the prominent ae is flipped so it looks as though the wheel of the car is on the right side passenger side of the car. It’s as though everything that once applied to Luke’s situation now applies to ae’s cause holy shit.

As it turns out, ae takes the hardest hit. The tempo is the most upbeat it was the entire video during the last chorus. Luke is still surrendered to the situation but he’s protesting against the way they have been treated. Now all the boys are united, not just watching Luke. They’re all supporting each other. Luke is talking to Toxic Relationship person 2 in this chorus. He is stronger now. He’s done this before and the boys are supporting him. He’s standing up for ae.

Last chorus:

Now I wish we never met

'Cause you're too hard to forget

While he's taking off my dress

I know she's laying on your chest

The relationship between himself and ae is the strongest it’s ever been, but even when ae’s taking off Luke’s clothes, Luke can tell that ae’s toxic relationship weighs on his heart. It is as though she is laying on his chest like depression weighs on the heart. Also this is gay if it’s real.

Final verses:

I know that you don't, but if I ask you if you love me

I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me

Singing, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

Li-li-lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

Li-li-lie, lie, lie, lie, lie (Yeah yeah)

I know that you don't, but if I ask you if you love me

I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me

The last part “I know that you don’t....” is repeated twice with many desperate pleas for lies. It is repeated twice for both types of relationships: toxic and ae.

For toxic, he hopes that they pretend that they love him. He’ll even sing their lies. For ae, he hopes whenever they are in public playing their games of animosity, if he ever slips up and does something loving or a giveaway, he hopes ae will lie about loving Luke too and follow through playing their pretend game of hate because it’s the only way to avoid making the situation worse, and that’s the one thing the management and the boys want.

Then the car explodes

Because he knows, they know, it’s not going to work. All the lies are going to blow them up. So the car explodes. Showing ae. The lies literally made ae explode.

An hour after the Lie to Me Music Video premieres, Michael’s fiancee announces publicly that they are engaged.

Take care everyone :) tpwk including you

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #lie to me #Luke Hemmings #Michael Clifford #ashton irwin #calum hood #lie to me theory #muke #muke clemmings #kaleidoscope heart and soul #real fans save bands

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the-original-b · 3 years

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Archangel Chapter 11: Talent Scouting

Format: Prose / Fiction, multi-entry

Part in Series: 3 of 9 (Previous Chapter | The Beginning)

Word Count: c. 2,600

Summary: Khai pressures Krueger to contain a rapidly deteriorating state of affairs.

Krueger stepped through the glass doors of the Sixth Avenue office—dressed in a commando sweater and dark jeans with classy shoes under his pea coat—and headed towards the conference room.

Danielle straightened up behind her desk as she noticed him walk past her. “They’re waiting for you inside, Mr. Krueger,” she said.

He thanked her with a nod and proceeded down the hallway, past Khai’s old office which CJ Silvio now worked out of, and entered the conference room to join her and Everett to discuss their next steps after the events at Pharaohs a few days ago. Visible on a computer monitor at the end of the table was Hayden.

“Gentlemen, Miss Khai.” he greeted them. “Is Mr. Desmoulins joining us?”

“We’re ironing out the connection now,” Khai noted. She wore a dark suit with a white blouse and black peep toe pumps. “It’s one thing to set up a video call, but another entirely to set one up with him.”

“The man lives in military grade encryption,” Everett added. Today he wore a conservative blue suit with a pale gray shirt underneath.

“It’s how he’s stayed invisible for so long…” she added sotto voce. She tapped a few more keys on the laptop Hayden’s face was on. “Got it,” she said, turning the device toward the other men in the room. “Brandon, can you hear us now?”

“Loud and clear,” Brandon voice confirmed through the speakers.

“Perfect. In the room you can see I’m here with Mr. Krueger and Henry Everett. Also joining us via teleconference is Mr. Hayden.”

“Hey, everyone.”

“Greetings,” Hayden said. “Good to see you’re all well.” He folded his arms atop the desk he sat behind.

“Same to you, sir.” Khai said, sitting down and facing the laptop. Krueger and Everett took their places standing behind her. “Have you heard any updates from Dana and Charles?”

“No, and that’s what concerns me. Karin’s seen a steady increase in the Dragon Tears’ popularity in her territory, but she and I have been in regular contact; and Herman’s reported no problems in his area. The others have had their hands full for months, and now that I haven’t heard from them since last week the rest of us are more than a little concerned.”

“That bad?”

“It isn’t just the drugs, it’s the problems they invite. Police budgets have been slashed nationwide, and the hardest-hit cities have turned to the private sector to compensate.”

“Castle Security Solutions,” Krueger noted. “I’ve seen a news story on them the other day.”

“It’s no coincidence they’re expanding while the Dragon Tears become more popular,” Khai noted.

“Are you suggesting they’re connected, Miss Khai?” Hayden queried.

“I’m saying there may be a causality, sir; that somebody stands to profit from the expanse of one or both of the two forces choking the Partners today.”

“I agree,” Everett added. “And thanks to Krueger, I think we know who.” He looked at the monitor. “Mr. Desmoulins?”

“Special Agent Peter Cross,” Brandon said. “Born August 14th 1966, UT San Antonio class of ’88. Eight years with the FBI, then transferred to the DEA in ’96. He spent three years there, then moved to ATF. He changed hats a third time and joined the CIA in 2002, after which the records stop.”

Krueger arched his brow. “The United States Government?” He crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one foot.

“We don’t know that for sure, but it does make sense,” Brandon mused. “If the CIA is sponsoring an effort to destroy the Partners, they’d want somebody like Cross at the tip of the spear.”

“Not their wheelhouse,” Khai commented. “That’s more the FBI’s job.”

“Also doesn’t make sense that his story stops after his start with the CIA,” Everett noted, his hand on his chin. “I get the feeling there’s more to this Peter Cross than the records show.”

“Especially since the buyer named him,” Krueger added, just loud enough for the others to hear. He leaned on the back of a chair to Khai’s left. “Is it possible he’s changed sides, started working for another criminal organization?”

“Possible, but not likely; the only other major player in the region is the Company,” Khai said. “And after the ordeal with Osiris, they’re hardly on my radar these days.”

“Mine either,” Hayden said. He brought his knuckles to his lip as he looked away from the camera, breaking eye contact as he considered the new information. “Do we know if Cross is operating in the Tri-State?”

“I found an office in Long Island City,” Brandon said. “Registered to a Rook Capital. He’s listed as Operations Manager.”

Krueger and Khai shot each other looks.

“Then I think that’s where we should start,” Hayden concluded. “Mr. Krueger, head to the Rook Capital office tonight.” Hayden lowered his hand again. “Surveil the building and report back what you find”

“Understood,” Krueger said.

“If I may, gentlemen,” Brandon suggested, “I think I have a better idea. I wrote a script that clones a computer’s internal drive and writes it to another location. I call it the Intruder.”

“The one used at Miles Orham’s cabin?”

“The very same. I think we can use it again here, but we’ll need an access point for it to work.”

Hayden nodded. “I agree,” he said. “That is a better idea. Mr. Krueger, if you can gain entry to the office and upload Mr. Desmoulins’ program into their server room, I believe we’ll gather all the information we need.”

“I’ll get it done, Mr. Hayden,” Krueger said with a nod.

“Excellent. We’ll reconvene after we’ve made more sense of the data.” He reached for something off-camera. “Good day.” His visage disappeared immediately afterward, and the four remaining people on the conference call shared a moment of silence.

“I’ll make the needed modifications to the Intruder,” Brandon finally said. “Krueger, can you come by later today to pick up the drive?”

“Absolutely. I’ll get the address from you while I’m there as well.”

“Awesome. Let me know when you’re on the way. Mr. Everett, Liz, take care.” And just like that, Brandon Desmoulins disconnected from the conference, and Khai shut her laptop before turning to face the two other men in the room with her.

“Well,” she said.

“It sounds self-explanatory to me,” Everett said. “We plant the Intruder, wait for it to do its job, and decide our next steps after we analyze the data.”

“We might run out of time before then.”

Everett shot her an inquisitive look.

“Rook Capital… Rook, the chess piece.”

“Castle,” Everett concluded. “The private contractors?”

“Not a doubt in my mind.”

“I caught it too,” Krueger added. “It can’t be coincidence that Cross is part of their office in Queens, he has to be connected to the private contractors coming up in cities across the country.”

“All the evidence points to that,” Khai said. “And if all is as it seems then there’s no time to delay here…” She stood up from her seat, adjusting her glasses. “We have to kill him.”

“Liz,” Everett said, raising a hand to chest-level. “You’re talking about killing a possible U.S. Government agent. That’s a sure-fire way of drawing attention that we cannot afford.”

“It’s also the only way we can guarantee avoiding the same thing that’s happening to Dana and Charles right now, and to stop whatever’s brewing from destroying the whole organization…” She took a breath, placing her hands on her hips and shutting her eyes. She opened them again and met Krueger’s gaze. “Milo, go see CJ in the armory.”

“Liz,” Krueger began.

She started toward her desk at the head of the conference room, by the window overlooking Sixth Avenue. “It won’t be easy, but if you can get in and out before they know what happened, I think we can slip the noose before they get a chance to tighten it.” She took a seat and woke her desktop computer.

“Liz, I was ordered—”

“It’ll be tight, but there’s a safe house in Sunnyside, on 40th Street. You can lie low there while things settle down—”

“Liz..!” He got her attention.

Khai looked away from the monitor to face him.

“That isn’t the job,” he specified. “You heard Mr. Hayden, this is strictly an infiltration assignment.”

“I did,” she said, “but it may be too late to do anything about whatever facts we dig up by the time we analyze them all. We need to solve the problem before it becomes one.”

“And I agree with you there,” Krueger said, leaving his place at the table to approach her. “But this is different—you’re talking about having me remove a possible Federal Agent.” He stopped barely two feet from the edge of her desk, then placed his hands onto the desk top. “A long time ago I stood right here in front of your predecessor, and promised to kill him in his sleep if he ever ordered me to do something I’m not comfortable with.”

Khai didn’t take her eyes from his, even as she leaned back into the chair and uncrossed her legs. She wasn’t even aware of the distance she tried to create between them until she blinked, realizing what she was actually feeling wasn’t shock, but fear.

“I don’t want to have to revisit that threat.” Krueger finally said. He maintained his flat tone, deadly serious. “Least of all to you… but if I have to, I will.” He straightened his posture again, looking down at her. “I was issued an order, Liz. And I don’t intend to deviate from it.” Krueger turned on his heel and headed toward the exit, his hands in his coat pockets. On his way out of the office he acknowledged Danielle again and passed through the glass doors to the elevator down to Sixth Avenue.

Everett shuffled uncomfortably after Krueger left. “That wasn’t something I should have been in the room for. Sorry, Liz.”

“No, you’re fine,” she reassured him. “Really…” She let a quiet sigh escape her lips. “You know, that’s the closest thing to a fight he and I have had in the almost two years we’ve been together… I was always nervous about that, but now I think I was scared of the wrong thing.”

Everett followed her eyes darting across the top of her desk. He noticed her reach for a pen and absentmindedly tap its point on an old post-it note. He’d seen that look on her face before, and could practically see the gears turning in her head as she worked through what must have been a problem she’d revisited and resolved dozens of times already. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” she declared, trying to convince herself more than him. “Yeah, it’s just… easy to forget who he is sometimes.”

“A good-hearted man?”

Khai looked up at him and, after a brief pause, exhaled. She shut her eyes and put the pen back down, then brought her hand back up to remove her glasses and rest them by the pen. She rubbed her eyes with her thumb and first finger then pinched the bridge of her nose before allowing her hand to slide down her face to her mouth as she opened her eyes again, staring ahead blankly.

Everett looked over his shoulder to the conference table and headed over to retrieve a chair which he placed in front of Khai’s desk. “Don’t tell me,” he began, sitting down. “You’re considering ending your relationship with him; you’re listing the pros and cons in your head and trying to come up with any good reason to let him go on your own terms before you’re forced to make that choice.”

Khai quietly laughed and shook her head. “That obvious, huh?”

“You may as well be an open book,” he returned, smirking.

Khai relaxed her smile and brought both her hands together, resting her chin on her interlaced fingers. She shut her eyes again and placed her face into her palms, exhaling slowly. She interlaced her fingers again, looking over her knuckles at him.

“And now, you’re realizing he’s not only the best thing to happen to the Branch, but also to you.”

Khai nodded. “I know,” she said. “And as much as I try to rationalize and poke holes in the pros, I can’t find a single reason to make it worth breaking up with him in the end.” She dropped her hands and turned her head to look him in the eye. “But I’m scared, Henry,” she admitted. “I hesitated even bringing him to the Brooklynite that night. I didn’t think I’d fall for him…” She shrugged. “But I did. A kind, charming, good-looking guy with a tragic past; I didn’t stand a chance,” she laughed. “I ignored my doubts and let myself get closer to him. No matter how many times I think I made a mistake with him, then realize I didn’t, I still feel like I’m going to screw this up somehow. And that terrifies me.”

Everett gave a half-suppressed chuckle as he considered his next words. “Forty years ago, I think I heard those same words come out of your father’s mouth when he tried to talk himself out of proposing to your mother.”

Khai laughed again. “I guess the apple plopped straight down,” she jested. “What did you say to him?”

“I told him he was the smartest person I knew. Then I chastised him for not being able to see the obvious choice,” he added with a smirk. “You inherited his brilliant mind, Liz. The two of you work through problems the same way—you consider all the approaches, all the variables, and by the time you reach your solution you realize you knew the right answer from the beginning.” He shrugged. “This is no different. I think you made your decision before we even started talking about this.”

Khai opened her mouth to offer a rebuttal, but stopped herself when she realized he was right. Sure Krueger caught her off guard with his parting words, but he said what he did because of who he was and—more importantly—who he wasn’t. Khai rested her cheek in her hand as she considered Krueger, weighing his numerous good qualities against his few bad ones. She tried to justify splitting with him in light of any hypothetical and actual threats to their relationship, and a soft smile washed over her face as she realized she couldn’t.

“There’s a reason you invited him to dinner that night, Liz” Everett concluded, leaning forward. “Remember that.”

Krueger headed down Sixth Avenue and crossed at 51st Street to head toward the garage where he parked his car. He slowed after he made it across the street, then sighed as he stopped in his tracks. He stood off to one side to let others pass him as he slid his hands into his coat pockets and stared absentmindedly into the sky, re-playing his meeting with Khai, Everett, Brandon, and Hayden in his head over and again as he considered the information. After a while he fished into his coat pocket to find his mobile phone. “Ich werde es bereuen,” he said to himself as he dialed the number when he found it in his list of contacts.

“Mr. Krueger!” CJ Silvio’s voice on the other end answered. “What can I do for you?”

“I need something precise and powerful.” he said. “Last-minute.”

“How powerful are we talking?”

“Hole-puncher.”

“Uh…” Silvio shuffled audibly on the other end. “I think I can put a list together. Rifles or handguns?”

“The latter. The quieter the better.”

“Oh, well that narrows it down… I’ll have to see if we have any of those left in the armory.”

“Meet me there in thirty minutes.” Krueger ended the call and headed for the garage on 51st to his car.

(Masterlist | Chapter 12)

#fiction #original work #original content #original fiction #prose #story #creative writing #drama #crime story

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chalantness · 4 years

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fic: Here, On the Edge of Hell (5/6)

Rating: M Word Count: ~11,200 (part five) Characters: Steve/Natasha Summary: mafia au. She knows her father hadn’t been lying when he said that Uncle Howard wanted her to keep an eye on Steve, but if this was simply about protection, he wouldn’t have put her on the line at all. Especially not with all of the heat Steve Rogers is getting from the other Families, which means that her uncle has another reason for Natasha to be involved.

He just won’t tell her what it is.

Read On: [ ao3 ]

A/N: This took another three weeks and I'm just not even sure how time got away from me, but I hope the chapter is exciting enough to be worth the wait and also, WE'RE ALMOST FINISHED WITH THIS STORY! Are you as nervous as I am? Because I'm super nervous about it and also about this chapter so please take pity on me, I only pretend to know what I'm doing.

Maria is the one to drive them back to Brooklyn this time, and though she hadn’t exactly left it up for debate, Steve wasn’t going to insist otherwise. He still hasn’t exactly wrapped his head around the fact that Natasha has a fucking stalker in the first place, so he doubts he’s going to handle it all that well if they actually happen to find whoever this woman is that shares his mother’s name. He’s always been pretty damn good at keeping his composure. Yeah, he got into his fair share of fights when he was younger and scrawnier and didn’t have any business getting into them to begin with, but he was never the one that threw the first punch and he promised himself that he never will.

It’s different with Natasha, though. If he gets even the slightest feeling that someone will lunge at Nat – or, heaven forbid, pull a fucking gun on her – he’s not going to wait for them to make the first move before he does something about it.

“Hey,” Nat murmurs, covering his hand with hers atop her thigh, and it’s only then that he realizes how firm his grip on her had gotten while he’d been lost in thought. He loosens his hold, about to pull away, but she squeezes his fingers to keep him in place, giving him a small smile. “Keep making faces like that and those lines will stay there,” she teases, and, despite everything, Steve chuckles. It’s hard to believe it was only yesterday that she made the same joke at him, slightly flushed and flirty from her wine.

He brings her hand up to his lips, brushing a kiss across the tops of her knuckles, simply because he wants to, and because he can.

As intense as the last day – hell, not even the last twenty-four hours – has been, he’s at least thankful that it’s given him this. Given him her. And honestly, he’s starting to understand that maybe they’ve always had this, right from the start, but he doesn’t regret that they took their time, either. He’d still been adjusting to everything that had suddenly changed in his life when they met, and he knows it wouldn’t have been right for him to want anything from her when he still felt the way he had about the Families.

But the Family is his family, too, and he has a place with them not just because of his father, but because he earned it. As ridiculous as it sounds, it feels a little bit like this life has been in his blood all along. That, sooner or later, he would’ve wanted to be here. Especially if it meant meeting Natasha and getting to have her in his life.

He can barely stomach the thought of someone attempting to take her away from him.

“You look like you’re thinking pretty hard up here,” she says lightly, bringing her other hand up to brush her thumb over his temple before cupping his cheek.

“Just wondering how offended you’d be if you knew I wanted you to wait in the car,” he admits, his lips twitching into a bit of a smile.

Natasha breathes out a laugh. “You’re the last person I’d ever be offended by, Steve,” she tells him, tilting her head at him, and he feels his smile curve just a little bit wider as he peers down at her. Her tone may be teasing, but he knows her words are nothing but sincere. “But that doesn’t mean I’d stay put if you asked me to,” she adds.

“I know.” He turns to press a kiss to the inside of her wrist, murmuring against her skin, “That’s why I’d never ask.”

Her smile softens, but a chuckle draws her attention before she can reply – and no, Steve’s not all that surprised to find a smirk on Sam’s face when he turns toward Maria. “They’re so cute,” he tells her, and Maria rubs her lips together, her eyes glinting in amusement when she glances at Steve and Natasha in the rearview mirror. Then Sam catches their gaze, too, the amusement fading from his eyes even as he jokes, “If you two want to keep gazing into each other’s eyes, Maria and I can head inside alone.”

Steve feels his fingers tighten on Natasha’s hand as he glances out of the window. The apartment building looks every bit as abandoned and untouched as it had when he and Nat were here the other week, and there isn’t a car in sight, let alone the black compact that Maria had found out was being rented by Natasha’s stalker, but it doesn’t mean they’re in the clear just yet. Honestly, it was probably just luck that he and Nat hadn’t run into anyone when they were here. With how long the building has just been sitting here, Steve doesn’t doubt it’s had its fair share of people coming using it for shelter, and maybe also as a place to take care of business without drawing too much attention.

The four of them are probably drawing nothing but attention now, though, as they drive up to the abandoned building, but that hardly matters at this point. There’s no way to be discreet about this in broad daylight, but they’ll have a better shot at finding something now than when it’s dark out.

Maria pulls up to the curb, killing the engine, and the four of them climb out of the car. “It’s the third floor, right?” she asks Steve, and he nods. “Should we start there?”

“What, we’re not splitting up to cover our own floors?” Sam retorts, his tone dry.

Steve cracks a smile as he shakes his head. He knows Sam is being sarcastic, but he replies, “Same floor, but we’ll split up to search the units.” This way they’ll still cover a little more ground while staying close enough to one another, just in case. He doesn’t say the words out loud, but Sam and Maria both nod at him in agreement, anyway.

He half-expects some sense of déjà vu to hit him as they make their way to the building and up the staircase, but honestly, he’s too damn preoccupied with the thought of Natasha’s stalker actually being here. The truth is, he’d rather not split up at all, even if it’s an inefficient way to search the place. He’s just worried. No, he’s fucking terrified of something happening to Natasha, which he knows is ridiculous. Natasha can sure as hell handle herself all on her own, but even more so with the three of them close by.

But the fact that her stalker was able to follow her without Natasha finding out already makes this person pretty fucking dangerous. They probably had more than a handful of opportunities to make a move if that was their intention, but instead, they reached out to Natasha. And not just her, too; they got some of the Family involved, too.

Steve doesn’t know if that makes them less of a threat or more of one, but he has a damn good feeling they’re going to find out soon enough.

He smooths his hand over his jacket as they reach the third floor, feeling where his gun is tucked into the inside pocket, and exhales a sharp breath. “Shout at the first sign of movement,” he tells them, though his gaze is fixed on Natasha as he swallows lightly.

“Relax,” she says softly, one eyebrow quirking as the ghosts of a smirk tug at her lips. She tips her chin up, brushing her lips against his, and it should be stupid how that one little touch eases some of the tension in his jaw.

She steps away from him a second later, drawing her own gun from her jacket, and he manages a small grin in return before glancing at Maria and Sam with another nod.

The building itself is quiet as they make their way through the units, though that doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re alone. Anyone inside would’ve been able to see the four of them make their way over from where they parked across the street, and as long as they stay out of sight, all they have to do wait before slipping out quietly. Still, all of the apartments have turned up empty so far as he makes his way through, even as he prods at all of the panels and pulls aside the vents to see if anything could be hidden inside.

He’s coming out of a unit at the end of the hallway when Sam steps out of the door across from him, raising his eyebrows in question. Steve shakes his head. “Nothing yet.”

“Me neither,” Sam replies, glancing around the corner where Maria and Nat had gone to search the other half of the floor. “Your old place is over on that side, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. They’re probably getting to it now, if they haven’t finished up before us,” Steve says. “You think there’s a chance we could actually run into someone in here?”

Sam presses his lips together, considering this. “Someone? Maybe, maybe not,” he admits. “But I do think there’s something here. That woman came into this building and there’s no way it’s a coincidence. She could’ve seen us coming and slipped out, or she could be waiting for us. Either way, I’m still betting we find some trace of her here.”

“I’m not sure which one I’d prefer.” Steve exhales sharply, shaking his head once. “Come on. Nat and Maria should be done by now, too.”

He’s barely gotten the words out when he hears a muted thud just down the hallway, and then the distant yet distinct sound of something shattering, and Steve only takes half a second to glance at Sam before they’re running down the hallway.

He rounds the corner, Sam on his heels, and they only barely manage to dodge Maria as she’s darting out of one of the apartments, her eyes sharp with alarm. “Is that—”

She’s cut off by another thud, this time harder and closer, rattling the thin walls of the building, and Steve’s gaze darts over Maria’s shoulder.

Nat.

Fuck. Fuck.

Steve rushes around Maria, withdrawing his gun from inside his jacket, and he’s too fucking preoccupied with the obvious sounds of a struggle just a few feet away to pay much attention to the fact that he’s running right into his mother’s old apartment. He’s through the door in time to see two bodies struggling against each other’s hold as they stumble out of the bedroom and practically fall onto the floor of the small kitchen, and Steve feels his heart slam against his ribcage as he catches a flash of Nat’s scarlet hair.

His fingers twitch toward the trigger of his gun, but there’s no fucking way he’d be able to shoot without hitting Nat, too.

He starts toward them instead, but before he can step in, Nat gets her leg up and her boot braced against the edge of the counter, and then she’s throwing her weight back and onto the floor, using her momentum to fling the other woman off of her and against the wall.

Nat rolls back up and onto her feet, gaze darting toward Steve just as he tosses his gun at her, and she catches it with ease as he lunges for the other woman. He kicks her feet back out from under her before she can get up, too, and then she’s on her knees as he grasps her arms, drawing a slight hiss from her as he locks her wrists in his grasp behind her back. He only has a second to notice that she doesn’t even attempt to struggle against him before Natasha takes a step toward the woman, her gun aimed at her.

The blonde’s head turns toward the door as Maria and Sam fill the entryway, their guns also drawn, and then she glances over her shoulder, something quick flickering in her eyes as she catches his stare.

“Let’s talk like grownups, shall we?” Natasha asks, taking another step closer, and though the blonde hums in reply to Nat, her gaze is still on Steve’s.

“Who are you?” he demands, cinching his grip on her ever so slightly.

But she doesn’t so much as flinch as he twists her arm a little tighter behind her back. “Yelena,” she answers, and in the same breath, she adds, “Your father sent me.”

... ...

To Steve’s credit, he doesn’t let his hold on the woman slacken for a second, even as his entire body flinches back in surprise.

“How the hell do you know his father?” Natasha demands, her grip tightening on the gun. Of all the things for this woman to say right now, that certainly hadn’t been what Natasha had been anticipating, though that probably doesn’t mean a hell of a lot in the end considering she doesn’t know what the fuck she expected in the first place.

“Joseph Rogers knows my mentor. He sent me here under your mother’s alias to get your attention and to find you. Both of you,” she tells the, turning to catch Natasha’s gaze this time, and there’s something in her composed expression that makes Natasha pause. “And if you reach into my pocket, Steve will have his proof that this is true.”

Natasha glances up at Steve, and he takes a moment to hold his stare before turning to Sam, nodding once, and both Natasha and Maria keep their guns trained on Yelena as Sam kneels beside her and Steve. Yelena simply blinks back at Sam, her expression still composed as he reaches into one of the pockets of her coat, pulling out a small piece of paper. A polaroid photo, she realizes. She can’t see what it’s of from this distance, but whatever’s pictured has both Sam and Steve tensing in an instant, shock flickering in their expressions as they exchange a glance. Sam flips the polaroid over, revealing what seems to be a blue smudge on the back, and Steve mutters a curse under his breath.

“Why the hell would my father give that to you?” Steve demands, but the edge in his voice has eased. Despite his question, it’s clear the photo had been enough proof.

“What is it?” Maria asks.

“A photo of Sarah and Steve on Steve’s first birthday,” Sam answers, still staring down at the polaroid as he stands back up. “Joseph always keeps the thing on him because it’s the only copy they had, and Steve’s fingerprint is dried in the paint on the back.” He flips it over and holds it out for Natasha to get a closer look, and, sure enough, there’s a tiny fingerprint in the smudge of blue paint that’s dried on one of the corners. It’s almost entirely rubbed off and faded from years of sunlight, but it’s definitely still distinct.

“That may be proof you’ve been in contact with Joseph, but that doesn’t prove that you’re telling the truth,” Natasha counters, and she swears she sees a flicker of surprise in the woman’s eyes as she lifts her eyebrows ever so slightly. If Natasha didn’t know any better, she’d say the woman almost looks impressed.

“Perhaps,” Yelena concedes. “But you may want hear the story before judging if it’s false.”

Steve’s jaw flexes as he considers her words, sharing another look with Natasha, and this time she’s the one to nod. “I disarmed her in the room,” she tells Maria, and she nods, heading over to retrieve her gun as Sam quickly works to pat Yelena down, then nods at Steve when he’s cleared her.

Natasha lowers her own gun as Steve releases Yelena’s wrists. The woman still poses a threat even without a weapon – Natasha just had a firsthand experience of that – but being outnumbered four-to-one, and especially with three of them armed, Natasha doubts she’d attempt anything. Even if she could somehow catch all of them off guard, she would have a pretty slim chance of making it out of the building before one of them caught up to her, or, at worst case, grazed her with a shot to cut off her chance to escape.

Sam shuts the front door behind him as Maria reemerges from the empty bedroom, Yelena’s gun now strapped into her holster as she passes Natasha’s gun over to Steve.

“Okay,” Steve says, narrowing his eyes slightly at Yelena. “You say my father sent you, but where the hell from? Where has he been this whole time?”

“Russia,” she answers, and Natasha feels her chest tighten ever so slightly at the revelation as Yelena turns to catch her gaze. “He comes from the same hometown as your mother, Natasha. You found his box in this apartment before I could, so I know you both have seen the photograph already. You know it’s true that Joseph and Melina knew each other from before they came here, to America. My mentor, Alexi, is the other boy in that photo you found. He’s been friends with both of your parents since childhood.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrow ever so slightly, and Natasha knows they’re both thinking the same thing: Nick had said that Joseph had his past erased. A past that did link him back to Natasha’s mother, as that photograph had implied.

“And the other girl with them?” Natasha asks. “Who is she supposed to be?”

Natasha is still staring right at Yelena, so she doesn’t miss the way the woman’s expression pinches ever so slightly at the question before smoothing back into composure. “Alia,” she answers. “She was Melina’s best friend, and she was the mother of Yuri Petrovich.”

“Was,” Maria echoes, raising her eyebrows in question.

Yelena hums. “She passed a few months ago, killed under suspicious circumstances, which was what brought Joseph back to Russia in the first place.” She shifts her gaze onto Steve once more, and her calculated, almost detached tone wavers for the first time, softening with something akin to sympathy as she adds, “Her marriage to Ivan had been arranged, and he is a cruel man. Joseph believes wholeheartedly that he had her murdered, if he in fact did not commit the crime itself, and killing Ivan is why Joseph remains in Russia today. He and Alexi want to carry out his murder, and Joseph sent me here to help Melina prevent Alia and Ivan’s son, Yuri, from carrying out a murder of his own.”

“Who the hell is he after all the way over here?” Sam asks.

But Natasha barely hears him, her aunt’s words coming back to her again, warning her that things are changing. She’d said that her uncle wanted her safe but never said why. Never explained why her uncle, who’s never trusted cops, who knew Steve would be getting heat the moment he stepped into his father’s shoes, would push Natasha toward befriending him, spending more and more of her time with him and therefore Bucky and Sam, too. He was glad that Wanda has Bucky watching over her shoulder, cop or not.

She remembers how worried her mother had been after someone put a car through the front of the club. How she’d never seen her mother so visibly upset before.

Her eyes flit to Steve, and somehow, she’s not surprised to find his gaze already on her, his jaw flexing as he clenches and unclenches it.

“Natasha,” Steve guesses before Yelena can reply to Sam, his voice low and harsh. Dangerous. “He’s come here for her, hasn’t he?”

“Yuri believes Natasha is his blood,” she says, and Natasha nearly flinches, something cold tightening over her chest. “A sister, to be exact, from an affair rumored to have been between Melina and Ivan. She would be Ivan’s first born, which would give Natasha a stronger claim as heir to the Petrovich mob over him.”

Natasha shakes her head. “That’s a lie.”

Yelena rubs her lips together, simply staring back at Natasha for a beat, gauging her expression. Natasha has no rational reason to explain why she knows this, though at the same time, Natasha knows there’s some sort of truth in the woman’s words, too. “There was never proof of its truth, nor was there proof against it,” Yelena admits after a long moment. “Yuri knows this himself, but regardless, the potential of it being true is enough for him to want to rid of Natasha from contention to the Petrovich mob altogether.”

Well, fuck. If that’s the truth, that would be the connection they were missing for the Russian mob to be in New York in the first place.

“Even if it is true, Natasha would’ve never posed a threat,” Maria argues. “The mob isn’t a monarchy. What makes him think they would choose her when she’s never even been to Russia before?”

“Ivan has been losing control over his men for a while. Most of them don’t agree with how reckless he is, and Yuri is even more careless than his father.”

“And any potential reason to discredit him is something Yuri is going to rid of himself,” Steve guesses. Yelena turns to him, nodding once, and he exhales a sharp breath as he brings a hand up to rub at his jaw. “I’m guessing you’re on the inside of this mob, since you seem to know all about the talk going around behind closed doors.”

“I am. I was recruited young and without a choice, the same way my mentor was. The same way your father was,” she tells Steve, but then she turns to face Natasha once more, and her composed expression cracks ever so slightly at the edges as she considers her next words. “They have been waiting years to put an end to Ivan, and whether you believe me or not, I suggest you do the same to Yuri,” she says. “He sees you as a threat, which means that as long as you’re alive, he’ll keep coming after you himself.”

... ...

“Shit. Seems like I missed out on all the fun,” Bucky replies dryly with a shake of his head, and, despite everything, Steve breathes out a chuckle.

It felt as if they were at that apartment all fucking day when Wanda called to tell him that Pietro was awake, but when Steve caught sight of the time after they’d hung up, he realized they had only been gone for three, maybe four of hours at most. Bucky had only just gotten to the hospital about an hour before they made it back, having just gotten off of his shift at the precinct and coming straight over, and Steve had pulled him into an empty room across from Pietro’s to fill Bucky in on everything Yelena had told them at the apartment. Steve will get around to telling Pietro and Wanda, too, of course, because it’s something they should hear about their father, regardless if it’s actually true.

And honestly? Steve has a really damn good hunch to believe it is, as ridiculous as that sounds. Natasha had said it earlier, that Yelena had no real proof for them to believe anything she told them, photograph or not—but he could also see it in Natasha’s eyes as they left the apartment that she did believe the woman, at least to some extent.

And Steve believes her, too. Yelena had known exactly who to send those pictures of Natasha to in order to get her attention, but also to not draw too much attention onto herself and end up with the Family trying to find her. She’d known Tony and Peter would keep quiet about it if Natasha asked, no matter how worried they’d be, just as she’d known that Wanda would’ve come straight to Steve and listen to him if he’d asked her to do the same. That’s not something Yelena could’ve figured out on her own so quickly.

Not unless she had a reliable source.

His father. Fuck.

Steve feels a little selfish even thinking so, but, despite everything, part of him hopes that there is some truth to what Yelena had told them. He never dared to entertain the thought that his father was dead rather than just missing, but he would’ve been ignorant to dismiss the possibility altogether.

If Yelena is telling the truth, though, then his father hadn’t actually gone missing at all. He slipped off to Russia, undetected, and likely with help from the Family, who have known all along where he’d come from and what brought him to America in the first place.

Ivan is a decade their senior, but he’d wanted Alia from the moment he saw her, Yelena had said. But Alia adored Joseph, and that made him competition in Ivan’s eyes.

Steve had nearly let out laugh at this. Ivan Petrovich was so intent on having Alia to himself that even just the idea of Joseph being in his way was enough of a threat to Ivan to justify in wanting him dead. Steve’s father had to flee his home, his country, at thirteen, and only after changing his name, wiping his past, and being adopted by the most notorious family in New York did he truly escape—and now Yuri Petrovich is willing to go to the same lengths, all because of a rumor that makes Natasha a threat in his eyes.

It sounds as if it could be ridiculous, but there was no mistaking the look in Yelena’s eyes. Steve is willing to bet Yelena doesn’t scare easily, but it’s clear that she fears Yuri. Or, she at least fears what he could be capable of.

“I don’t know if fun is the right word,” Steve mutters, rubbing a hand over his face, and his best friend offers a wry grin. “You think it’s crazy if I believe everything she said?”

“Nah.” Bucky shakes his head. “When I’m working a case or interrogating a suspect, sometimes I find crazy shit, hear insane confessions, and yeah, sometimes you know right away if they’re lying, no matter how convincing they seem. But sometimes, you also know when you’re hearing the truth, even if it’s not all of it just yet.” Steve turns to catch Bucky’s stare as his best friend drops a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “If you’ve got a hunch that tells you what that woman said is true, I wouldn’t just ignore it.”

Steve nods, then leans back against the wall as he exhales. “Let’s say we know it’s all true—on one hand, now we know exactly who we’re up against.”

“On the other hand, that means taking care of a Russian mobster and however many men he brought along with him,” Bucky finishes, blowing out an exhale of his own as he shakes his head. “Don’t know if that’s better or worse.”

“If you asked Nat, she’d say it’s always better to know what you’re dealing with,” Steve points out.

“How’s she doing with all of this, by the way?” Bucky asks, glancing across the hallway and into Pietro’s room at where Maria and Natasha are talking close together by the window. “Wanda could tell something was up with her the second you all walked in, but she’s still got a damn good poker face after hearing all of this.”

Steve swallows lightly, turning to follow his gaze onto Natasha, too, just as her eyes slip over Maria’s shoulder and onto him, the ghosts of a smile touching her lips.

“I think she’s trying to be rational and not to make a decision about any of it just yet,” Steve admits. “But I can tell that she believes it, too, at least to some extent. Other than the part about Melina having an affair,” he amends, his voice coming out softer now. “She doesn’t think that’s true. No, she knows it isn’t, and I think she’s right.” Steve glances back at Bucky. “Yelena said there was never proof against the affair, but there was never proof of it, either. Whatever the answer is, I don’t think it’s an obvious one.”

Bucky stares at him for a moment, searching his expression. “You have a guess, don’t you?”

Steve fights back a wince as he nods. “Yeah,” he admits, not risking another glance at Natasha, knowing she’ll be able to tell that something is bothering him. “Just one.”

... ...

It isn’t nearly as late tonight as they leave the hospital as it had been yesterday, but it’s still pretty much a given that Natasha is going back to Steve’s place rather than her own apartment. He does ask her if she wants to swing by, though, to grab a change of clothes and anything else she wants, but frankly, she’s too damn tired even for that. Yeah, she knows she’ll have to head back soon, even if it is just to pack a bag. But after today (after the last two days, really) she’d rather not head all the way back to her apartment at the tail end of rush hour just to turn around and head back this way to Steve’s, and Wanda insists that doesn’t mind letting Natasha borrow a few more clothes.

And the truth is, even though the girl wouldn’t mind lending Natasha anything even under normal circumstances, she’s probably every bit as eager as Natasha just to shower and climb into bed. Wanda had said that she didn’t sleep well last night because she’d been so worried about Pietro, and even though she spent most of her day just sitting in Pietro’s hospital room and barely lifting a finger, her exhaustion is probably catching up with her. She already looks like she’s ready to pass out in the back seat with Bucky.

Natasha thinks that she nearly passes out, too, because it seems as if it only takes a minute before they’re pulling onto Steve’s street and into his garage.

“You can use my bathroom,” Steve tells Natasha, a hand on her hip and his lips gently pressing against her temple as they head into the house. She glances over her shoulder at him and he gives her a small smile and a gentle squeeze. “I’ll grab a change of clothes for you from Wanda’s room after she gets settled. Take all the time you need.”

She knows he means more than taking her time in his shower, and she feels her lips curve into a small smile of her own as warmth flutters in her chest. “Steve,” she says.

He catches her chin gently. “I’ll be up in a second,” he promises, his voice barely above a whisper as he brushes a kiss to her lips. “Just take your time.”

She hums softly, tipping her head up to slant her lips against his just a little harder, a little longer, before drawing back and murmuring a simple, “okay,” that makes his smile widen just a little bit more.

Steve had filled Pietro and Wanda in on everything that Yelena had told them at the apartments, so Natasha knows that, even though he’d told her to take her time while he checks in with Wanda, he probably isn’t planning on it taking long at all. Even if Wanda thought of something else to talk to her brother about since leaving the hospital, it’s clear that the discussion will likely wait until the morning considering the girl looks as though she’ll be out as soon as her head hits the pillows. Natasha can definitely relate.

She strips out of her clothes as the shower takes a second to heat up, and then she’s stepping inside the wide stall, not bothering to slide the glass door closed behind her as she lets out a soft moan at the steady spray hitting her skin. She hadn’t felt drained – not physically, at least – but the warmth seems to soothe a dull ache in her muscles.

It’s only been a few minutes when there’s a soft knock, and Natasha leans back a little to watch as Steve steps in, clothes tucked into his arm and her toothbrush from the hallway bathroom in his hand. He pauses just inside the door, his eyes tracing down from the tips of her damp hair along the curve of her back – and, despite the exhaustion that had been tugging at her just minutes ago, she feels a flutter low in her stomach as his gaze slides back up to hers. He raises his eyebrows slightly, a silent question.

How was it only yesterday that the roles were reversed? That she’d been the one asking him this same question, offering him this same choice?

Unlike the night before, though, the hum in her veins feels a little less frantic. There’s something gentler about the heat that unfurls through her, something still thrilling but also a little comforting, too, making her shiver delicately as she turns herself toward him a little more. And that seems to be all the answer he needs as he sets her clothes and toothbrush aside on the counter and then closes the distance between them. She reaches out, grasping at his shirt to tug him close, nearly flushed against her front, and if he notices the fact that she’s getting him wet, spilling water outside of the shower and onto the floor between them, he ignores it in favor of slanting his lips against hers in a kiss.

He reaches between them, hand sliding up her side, fingertips playing with the ends of her hair before cupping the weight of her breast in his palm, and her mouth parts under his in a soft gasp.

“Are you going to join me, or are we just going to waste all your warm water?” she murmurs, tipping up to kiss him a little harder before he can reply, teeth grazing at his lower lip, and his lips pull into a boyish sort of grin as he breaks their kiss to lean away.

He reaches behind him, fists his shirt with one hand as he tugs it up and over his head, letting it fall to the floor as he pushes his jeans down, and Natasha lets her gaze trace over him as his did her as he steps closer, backing her into the shower and sliding the glass door closed behind him. She didn’t have a moment to take him in last night, but now that she does, she feels her tongue dart out, licking at her lips, then turning him so that his back is blocking her from the spray of the shower as she sinks to her knees.

“Nat,” he says, his voice a little lower, a little rougher, and she peers up at him from under her lashes as she licks up his length. She nearly shivers at the soft groan he lets out, the way his hand cups her hair, fingers tangling in the wet strands. “We’re supposed to be showering,” he reminds, voice light with amusement.

She quirks an eyebrow. “If you wash my hair for me while I’m down here, we’ll be multitasking,” she replies, and then she’s taking him into her mouth, sucking gently, and he lets out a throaty chuckle as his fingers tighten their grip on her damp strands.

And she’d been mostly teasing, not genuinely asking him to wash her while she works her mouth over him, so it takes her a little by surprise when she feels the cold touch of his shampoo in her hair. She almost pulls back to peer up at him, but then his fingertips are massaging gently into her scalp, sending another delicate shiver down her spine as she moans softly around his length, and she can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he groans out her name. It’s strangely, almost scarily intimate to be like this with him – his hands methodically lathering her hair with shampoo, carefully keeping it out of her face as she tastes him – that she very nearly has the ridiculous urge to blush.

At the same time, though, the way they move together is easy, almost instinctual, and then he’s pulling the showerhead off of the hook, rinsing his shampoo out of her hair before sliding out of her mouth and pulling her back onto her feet.

“Trust me, love, I’m more than ready for you,” he groans softly, and her heart skips in her chest, barely a beat of pause passing as he fumbles to stick the showerhead back into place before he’s on her again, turning them to the side to press her back against the wall. She gasps at the cold tile against her wet, warm skin, and he slips his tongue into her parted lips, sweeping against hers as his hand slides down her body and between her legs where her skin is hotter and slicker under his fingertips. He rubs at her folds, parting her, pressing against her tiny bundle of nerves, and she very nearly whimpers into his mouth as her hips roll against his hand, seeking more. “Nat,” he groans.

She’s tingling, aching, and she kisses him harder and murmurs a simple, almost desperate, “please,” knowing that he’ll understand what she wants. What she needs.

He lets out a low, barely-there sort of growl, parting their kiss again to grasp her by her hips, and then she’s being lifted, her back sliding a little higher up the wall as her legs wrap around his hips. She hooks an arm around his neck, her other coming around his back, fingernails digging into the muscle there as his tip presses against her.

And then he’s sliding inside, slowly, insanely slowly, and her head falls forward against his shoulder as she lets out a shaky breath. The press of him is delicious, almost dizzyingly so, and his groan is hot and long right against her ear as he buries himself all the way in.

She’s never once been with anyone like this, with nothing between them—but with Steve, she can’t imagine feeling him in any other way, not even for their first time.

And the hard slant of his lips against hers tells Natasha that the feeling is almost more than mutual.

He works his hips slowly against her the same way she had worked his length slowly between her lips, and she’s not quite sure if he’s damn near torturing her on purpose, but she finds that maybe she doesn’t even care. She relishes in every little sensation as he slides against her, tongue sweeping into her mouth, savoring the taste of her lips with the same gentle, thorough way he savors being inside of her, and it seems as if they’re like this for hours before her body starts to tremble. She can feel herself unraveling at the seams with every thrust of his hips, every nip and suck of his mouth, and then she’s twisting her head to the side, gasping as her body curls and that white-hot pleasure finally, finally bursts over her. Her spine arches off of the wall, but only barely, Steve’s body pinning her in place as his own resolve snaps, his hips working harder and faster.

And then he’s falling apart with her, tucking his head into the curve of her neck and groaning against the thrum of her pulse.

The water is lukewarm, starting to turn cold as he slowly, gently pulls out and sets her down on her feet, his arm coming around her as her legs tremble ever so slightly. He presses a kiss to her cheek, and then her temple, and then the middle of her forehead, and she blinks her eyes open slowly to peer up at him with a soft smile.

She leans against him as he works his soap over her skin, washing her off before quickly doing the same for himself, and then he’s twisting off the water, grabbing a towel off of the rack and wrapping her in the plush material.

He starts to hand her the pajamas he’d taken from Wanda’s room after she’s finished patting herself dry, but she gives him a little smile, plucking his pajama shirt off of the counter and slipping it over her head. He gives her that boyish smile again as she slips her arms through, and then he’s grasping her hips, pulling her close, and her eyelids flutter closed as he kisses her cheek. “You okay?” he murmurs into her skin, and she knows he’s asking about quite a few things in this moment, but her answer comes easily.

“I am now.”

... ...

He knows he’d fallen asleep just after he and Natasha climbed into bed, but he finds himself awake, a few hours before daylight, peering down at Natasha as she lays beside him. He believed her when she said that she was alright, at least in that moment, but he’s still relieved with how soundly she sleeps. He knows his sister didn’t get much rest last night because she kept waking up, drifting in and out, but Natasha doesn’t so much as stir as he gently peels back the covers and slips from the bed, padding quietly toward the door. He doesn’t switch on the hallway light, not wanting to risk waking Wanda since she likes to keep her door open, but he doesn’t need it, either, as he makes his way to his office just before the staircase. Maybe this is what’s kept him up, he muses, switching on his desk lamp and picking up the photograph of his father and Melina.

Everyone says that Steve is the spitting image of his father, but he knows that you can still see traces of his mother in his face if you look hard enough.

Natasha doesn’t believe that her mother had an affair with Ivan, and, as Steve picks up a framed photograph of his father with Howard and Edward Stark – one Steve had retrieved from one of his father’s offices as he’d been searching them – he’s inclined to agree with Nat.

She has the same distinct Stark features that make her look just like Edward, and Howard and Tony and Peter. When they’re standing together, there’s no doubt that they’re family, and he thinks that alone is enough reason to not believe that Ivan could be Nat’s father. She looks just like her Edward and just Howard in the same way Steve looks just like Joseph—but, for as much as Natasha takes after her father, she takes nothing from Melina. No matter how hard he looks, Steve can’t find a trace of her in Nat’s face.

And it only gives Steve another reason to believe the theory he’d told Bucky at the hospital.

... ...

She feels Steve’s lips pressing against the back of her neck, skimming along the column of her throat, the weight of his arm draped over her waist from behind, and Natasha turns to press her face into the pillow, trying in vain to stifle the smile tugging at her lips. She feels him chuckle softly into her skin, hand sliding down to give her hip a gentle squeeze, and then he’s breathing out a laugh as she swiftly rolls them over, legs tangling in the sheets as she ends up on top of him. She braces her forearms against his chest and lifts herself up by her elbows, tipping her chin down to peer down at his widening, boyish sort of grin as her wild hair falls around their faces and onto his pillow.

He reaches up, tucking a chunk of the wild strands behind her ear before cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing at the corner of her mouth. “Good morning,” he says.

She nearly laughs. “Good morning.”

His eyes glint up at her, one of his arms draping across the small of her back as he wraps it around her. “You’re awfully chipper for someone who had quite the day yesterday,” he teases gently, echoing her words to him from just yesterday morning, and this time, she does let out a soft laugh.

“I had a pretty decent end to my night,” she replies, feigning nonchalance despite the fact that she feels her smile widening.

“Only decent?” He narrows his eyes at her, still teasing, before cupping his hand behind the back of her neck and drawing her close to brush a kiss to her forehead, then to her cheek. “You’re okay, though?” he asks into her skin, and she lifts her head, meeting his stare so he can see it in her eyes that she means it as she nods. She’s as well she can be, all things considered—but, as she peers down into his eyes, she catches something flickering in them that makes her pause, though she can’t quite place what it could be.

Just a few weeks ago, she would’ve simply kept it to herself, attempted to riddle it out on her own. But instead, she lets her curiosity flicker across her own expression for him to see as she asks, “What is it?”

He hums softly, his smile turning a little apologetic as he strokes the pad of his thumb across her cheek. “I’m sorry for reacting the way I did about you hiding the ‘Sarah Rogers’ thing from me,” he tells her, his voice soft. She simply blinks down at him, surprised, but he continues on without her having to ask. “I should’ve known right away that it wasn’t for any other reason than to be mindful of how I’d feel, because I would’ve exactly the same thing,” he tells her, something in his voice that clicks into place.

“You have some thoughts about what we learned yesterday that you don’t want to share,” she guesses. Guilt starts to tug at his expression, but she simply smiles at him and shakes her head, leaning down to kiss the bridge. “It’s okay,” she tells him gently, pulling back just enough to catch his gaze again. “You don’t have to tell me yet.”

“I just want to be sure,” he tells her, his voice just as gentle, but the guilt dissolves from his eyes as he stares up into her smiling face and that’s all she really cares about in this moment. He’s being cautious, exactly as she tried to be with him, and the fact that she’s not reacting the same way he had is simply because the circumstances are different. They’re different with each other, even from just two days ago, and they won’t waste time holding things against each other when it won’t help either of them.

“Okay,” she replies, leaning against his palm. “It’s probably for the best. I don’t even know where to start.”

“We should probably start with the fact that someone may be threatening your life,” he points out as his arm tightens around her firmly. Protective.

She feels her smile widen a little bit at this, even as she hums in agreement. Even before Yelena had said the words out loud, Natasha knew there’d been some truth behind them. She knew there had to be a reason her family seemed so worried about her every move, why what happened at the club had rattled her parents so much, even though Natasha has had much closer calls before – and, now that she’s thinking about it, why it never truly felt real that a man as imposing as Joseph Rogers could ever go missing.

Because he hadn’t. He simply slipped away, and the Family helped cover his tracks.

“Be honest with me,” she tells him, even though, rationally, she knows she doesn’t ever need to ask. “Do you think that part is true?”

“I do,” he answers without an ounce of doubt or hesitation. Then, his voice a little rougher, he adds, “I think all of it is true.”

She nods once. “I do, too,” she admits, barely above a whisper. Even if she hasn’t entirely wrapped her head around all of it, and even if some part of her still wants to be rational and skeptical instead of taking the word of a stranger that’d been stalking her, Natasha has the strongest instinct telling her that she believed Yelena.

“I also think that Howard has known where my dad’s been this whole time,” Steve adds, not sounding upset or critical by the possibility, even if he and Wanda and Pietro would have every reason to be. “I think your mom has, too, which would probably mean both of your parents have known. Probably Nick. Which works out because it means that they’ll likely believe us if we tell them everything Yelena said, if they don’t already know the whole story. My dad could’ve contacted them, now that I think about it.”

“Does that bother you?” Natasha asks, genuinely curious. She knows that, between him and the twins, Steve would maybe have the most resentment over his father pulling this move. His entire life was upended the moment Joseph Rogers disappeared, and it could piss Steve off more knowing that his father never actually went missing.

“I feel like it should,” he answers, his voice almost wistful as his stare shifts to the ceiling, turning distant. “Is it wrong that it made me understand him better?”

She shifts herself to sit up, straddling his chest, and she grasps his face gently with both of her hands as she brings his gaze back to hers. “It’s not wrong at all,” she tells him. “Or, if it is, then so is the fact that I feel even closer to my mother than I did before. If what Yelena said was true…” She shakes her head, trying to collect her thoughts as she stares down at Steve’s face, his expression patient, encouraging. “My mother cared so much for Alia and Joseph that she joined a mob so they could try to protect each other.”

Yelena said that Joseph didn’t have a choice in joining, just like her mentor and just like her. But Melina and Alia did. They had a chance to cut ties and walk away from him for their own protection, yet they chose not to let Joseph join alone because of how much they cared for him.

Natasha doesn’t need to hear the story from her mother to know this is true, because she knows how protective her mother is, how much she values her loved ones.

Natasha has witnessed it for herself, felt it for herself, every day of her life. And the truth is, even if she learns that her mother is keeping worst secrets from her, it wouldn’t make Natasha love her any less.

Steve’s eyes wrinkle in a smile. “I could’ve told you just how fiercely loving your mother was even before I met her,” he tells Natasha, his hands sliding over her hips to squeeze them gently, and she feels a warmth fluttering in her chest as he adds, “I’d already seen it in you.”

... ...

Bucky and Wanda are already in the kitchen when he and Natasha make their way downstairs, Bucky standing at the stove and laying a few strips of bacon on a greased pan as Wanda sits on the empty counterspace beside him, gently kicking her legs back and forth.

Her smile is small but bright, brighter than Steve’s seen it in what feels like days—and, as she breathes out a giggle into the rim of her coffee mug that she’s cradling in her hands, he can already tell that she got more rest than she had the other night. He knows half of it is because she spent the day with Pietro and saw for herself that he’s doing well and recovering faster than his doctors anticipated, which is a good sign. But he also knows the other half of it is because Bucky has been doting on her since yesterday.

Even Pietro had seemed surprisingly chipper with Bucky there. Steve had known his best friend and his brother were getting along better, but it was still a surprise to find them laughing together as Wanda napped, far more comfortable with each other than when they all had breakfast together the other week.

Wanda glances over as he and Natasha walk in, her eyes glinting. “Didn’t like my pajamas, Nat?” she teases, one eyebrow arched.

Bucky looks over his shoulder at them, too, lips hitching in a smirk as he takes in the fact that Natasha is still in Steve’s shirt. The hem grazes the tops of her thighs, hitting low enough that she’s still covered, though she’d still thought to pull on the clean underwear still on the bathroom counter before they left his room.

“I’d thought I’d try something new, kind of like you and that bite mark on your neck,” Natasha retorts with a smile of her own, teasing her right back.

Wanda just giggles again, her cheeks flushing as she sips on her coffee, and Bucky shakes his head as he turns back to his bacon.

“I need coffee before we attempt that conversation,” Steve mutters with a shake of his head, his lips twitching as he fights off a smirk of amusement. Natasha grins, brushes a kiss to his chin as she passes him on her way to the fridge, and Steve walks over to where Wanda is perched on the counter. “You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she replies softly, almost sounding surprised by her own answer, though he can tell it’s sincere. Steve nods, smiling as he presses a kiss to her temple.

“Not to put a damper on our good mood, but I got a text from Sam,” Bucky says, switching off the burner and setting the pan of bacon aside, and then he turns to face Steve as he sets a hand atop Wanda’s knee. “They’ve been looking into all of those anonymous tips that were called in to bust those shipments and deals and it turns out the callers were always near the scene. Every single one of those calls pinged off of cell towers within a fifty-foot radius or less.” He shakes his head. “No way that’s just a coincidence.”

“But we’ve always suspected it could be someone working for the Family, haven’t we?” Wanda asks.

“Yeah, but this puts them at each scene, and not just in passing, either,” Bucky points out, giving her knee a gentle squeeze as she meets his gaze. “They stayed long enough to see things were carried through and then fled, just like the Asgard car you caught during your drive-by, and the one driving away when Pietro got shot.”

“That’s something we could look into on our end,” Natasha chimes in, a glass of orange juice in hand as she comes to stand beside Steve. “All four Families are strict about keeping some kind of log on which of their men are on each job, which cars or guns are being given out, ever since Uncle Howard found out that someone was stealing tech from his startups and selling his prototypes. They were never caught, but all four Families have been strict on operations ever since to prevent it from happening again.”

“If Hela is the one behind it, that doesn’t necessarily mean she would’ve been in any one of those cars,” Steve reminds.

“Maybe not, but Hela has always loved doing the dirty work herself,” Wanda tells him, sharing a knowing look with Natasha. “She craves chaos, and she’s a perfectionist. If you’d known Hela back when Frigga hadn’t reined how often she spilled blood all over the streets, you’d know that anything she’s involved in, she carries out herself.”

“Which means if the cars really are tied to those scenes, she’ll be in one,” Bucky guesses, and Wanda hums, nodding. “Then that’s what we’ll look into.”

Steve slides a hand over Natasha’s hip, drawing her to his chest, and for a fleeting second, he notices how easily her body fits against his as she leans into him—but he’s interrupted by another thought that crosses his mind, one that’s occurred to him more than once ever since he started suspecting Hela could be involved with all of this. “Let’s say Hela is the one behind all the busts… that means she cost all four Families their profits,” he points out. “Could Odin still defend her somehow, since she’s his daughter?”

“No,” Natasha answers. “When it comes the actual families, that kind of decision falls to the head. Odin couldn’t fight it even if he wanted to.”

“The head, as in the head of the Families?” Bucky asks.

“Yes.” She holds Steve’s gaze, a small smile curving at her lips when she sees the pieces click into place in his mind. “And with Joseph gone, that role falls to Steve.”

... ...

Tony is the one to insist that he and Peter meet her for lunch, and even though she and Steve simply planned on staying at the hospital with Pietro as they have for the last few days, Natasha still hesitates before agreeing. Steve is the one to reassure her about going, though, at the very least so she can catch Tony and Peter up on everything Yelena had told them, so Natasha has them pick her up and head to her apartment so they can order in. She needed to go back to pack a bag, anyway, and she’d prefer being somewhere private if she’s going to explain everything that’s happened, especially since she knows that her cousins (mostly Tony) will be quick to share their own opinions.

“You should’ve placed bets,” Tony quips, taking a gulp of his wine as he shakes is head. “Of all the news you could’ve shared, I never would’ve guessed all of that.”

Natasha feels her lips twitch into a smirk despite herself, and on the couch beside her, even Peter lets out a chuckle. “Not to downplay everything else,” he chimes in, leaning forward to grab another slice of pizza out of the box, “but her explanation for Joseph disappearing is kind of the only reason you need to believe this Yelena lady.”

Natasha breathes out a laugh. “That was one of my first thoughts, too,” she admits. “It’s definitely a more fitting explanation than him disappearing.”

“I think it clears up a lot about Aunt Melina, too,” Tony points out. He tips his head back, draining the last of his wine, and leans forward with his elbow on his knee as he sets his empty glass on the coffee table. “We always found it odd that she left Russia so quickly, but if this Ivan guy found out that she was trying to get Alia away from him, she could’ve fled like Joseph did. And are we just going to ignore the fact that we now know two psychopaths named Ivan? I told you the name gave off classic evil villain vibes.”

Peter raises his eyebrows, pointing at Tony as if he may genuinely be onto something with that, and Natasha doesn’t bother fighting off her smirk this time as she shakes her head at them.

“Speaking of which,” Tony adds, his expression turning a little more serious, “did we know that Ivan Vanko and Hela were so chummy?”

Natasha pauses. “I didn’t realize they were,” she admits, sharing a glance with Peter. “Sam and Bucky have the NYPD watching Hela and they never mentioned someone seeing the both of them together.”

Tony shakes his head. “I don’t know if they’ve actually met up, but when I went poking around on the cameras at the club the other night, I caught him texting her the whole evening. Then I did a little more digging through the security feeds at other Stark establishments, and it turns out they’ve been texting for months. Five months to be exact,” he adds, and Natasha sits up a little straighter, going back through the weeks in her head. She knows that timeframe is familiar, but Peter chimes in before she can place why.

“Five months?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing. “You mean, right when Joseph went missing?”

Tony nods. “I didn’t look at anything further back than that, but something tells me it’s been going on for a while.”

“Did you notice if they were texting in the evenings?” Natasha asks.

Tony arches an eyebrow as he sits back against the couch, considering this, then tips his head in a nod. “Yeah. I mean, I think they would text at different times, too, but most of the recent timestamps were usually in the evening and probably continued on after Ivan left the premises.” He gives her a look. “Do you want to know the specific dates?”

Natasha nods. “Specifically, I want to know if they line up with the nights there were busted deals, or the night of Wanda’s drive-by and Pietro’s shooting.”

Tony blinks, surprised, then mutters under his breath. “Shit. I didn’t think of that.” He shakes his head. “Yeah, I’ll get those timestamps to you, and I’m betting they’ll match.”

Natasha just hums, taking another gulp of her wine as Peter catches her gaze, forehead creased in thought. If he’d been planning on saying anything, though, he’s cut off by Natasha’s phone ringing atop the coffee table, the screen flashing with an unknown number. Natasha pauses, glancing at Tony before reaching over to pick it up.

“Natasha,” a voice says as soon as Natasha’s swiped to answer the call, and she doesn’t know if it’s better or worse that she recognizes Yelena on the other end of the line. Judging by the woman’s tone, Natasha is betting it’s worse. “You need to come with me,” she adds quickly, before Natasha can even start to ask what’s going on.

Natasha’s grip tightens on the stem of her wine glass. “Go where?” she asks, eyes flitting between Tony and Peter as alarm crosses their expressions.

“I convinced Yuri to let me grab you and take you to him myself before he puts a bullet in your family’s heads to get to you.” Yelena’s voice is hushed, tight, and Natasha swallows lightly, her chest suddenly feeling tighter. There’s something daunting about her tone that Natasha knows she’s not just imagining. “Make sure your family doesn’t follow you or they will be killed. Yuri won’t leave anything up to chance. You need to act as if you don’t know me and stay quiet when we grab you or he’ll know. Understood?”

“You can guarantee he won’t come after anyone else?” Natasha clarifies, glancing away when Peter flinches, eyes widening at her words.

“I can guarantee it,” she promises. “Having you will be enough of a distraction for Yuri, but we need to act quickly and carefully.” She pauses and this time, her voice is even lower, almost pleading. “He won’t be walking away with you still alive, and as long as he’s alive, he’ll keep coming for you. We only get one chance.”

... ...

It’d taken some convincing to get Wanda away from their brother’s bedside, but Pietro thought she needed a break from being in the hospital with him all week.

Well, more specifically, he said both of his siblings needed some fresh air that didn’t involve tracking down stalkers in abandoned building, and he only barely bothered to cover up that sentiment with asking them to get him his usual order from his favorite Mexican place almost halfway across the city. Steve knows that they don’t really need to humor. His brother will be discharged soon enough, maybe even as early as this evening, his doctor said, so it’s not as if he’ll be stuck eating hospital food for much longer.

Still, Steve has always been a sucker when it comes to his siblings, and he’s sure Wanda will be more willing to leave their brother for a little while if they’re going out to grab something for him, especially since Bucky offers to stay behind with Pietro.

“So, are you going to share whatever theory has been stirring in your head since this morning?” Wanda asks, and Steve turns to look at her beside him in the passenger seat when they come to a red light. She gives him a little grin, reaching over to rub her thumb over his forehead. “You look just like Dad when you’re thinking hard.”

Steve exhales a chuckle. Right. Sometimes he still forgets how easily Wanda can read people, especially her own family.

“I don’t know if I’ve got any theories just yet, but I was thinking of what Nat said earlier, about someone stealing from Howard. How come I never heard of that?”

“Probably because it happened so long ago, when Howard was still in the early stages of getting his legitimate businesses off the ground,” his sister muses. “Pietro and I were still toddlers. I don’t think it’s a secret, though. I think it’s not brought up because mentioning it still upsets Howard, even to this day.”

Steve looks forward again as the light turns green. “Do you know the story?” he asks.

Wanda shakes her head. “Not in detail, but I think the general story of it is that someone was stealing some of Howard’s work and selling it under the table to potential competitors. Blueprints and codes, and I think a few prototypes, too. But it stopped as soon as Howard cracked down on operations within the Family.”

“Which likely meant it was an inside job,” Steve guesses. “But Howard never found out who it was?”

“No,” his sister replies, her voice thoughtful as she adds, “and honestly, I don’t think he ever had any suspects, either. He and Dad still look into it every now and then, even now, and I’ve heard Dad talk to Howard about him being convinced that it had to have been someone high up in the Families if they had that kind of access. Plus, before it all started happening, anyone that wasn’t just a soldier wasn’t heavily tracked.” Steve presses his lips together, and his sister must notice because she asks, “You have a guess?”

“Do you think it could be someone part of the families?” he asks, and though his eyes are on the road, he still catches it in his peripheral as Wanda pulls back slightly.

“You mean, someone like Hela?” she asks, her voice soft, but somehow her question seems to ring out in the quiet of the car.

Steve shakes his head. “Not Hela. Well, she definitely can’t be ruled out as a suspect,” he amends, swallowing lightly as he contemplates his words. The more he runs through them in his thoughts, though, the more and more likely they make sense. “She could be capable of it, but it would be suspicious if she was seen around Stark establishments and especially down at Howard’s startups, and she would’ve still been in high school back then. My guess is that it had to have been someone involved with Stark Industries.”

“Someone like Anton,” Wanda says, and he can hear it in his sister’s voice that it isn’t a question.

“Yeah. Someone exactly like Anton,” Steve agrees, glancing in the rearview mirror after turning onto an empty back street, and he feels his body tense at what he catches in the reflection. “Shit,” he mutters, stepping on the gas, but he’s a second too late to speed away from the car that slams into them from behind.

#romanogers #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #chanty writes #mafia 'verse

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