#this is useless mind wandering of mine as always but being jolted back into my hunger games consideration is doing a lot for my brain

[madamescarlette]

Actually one thing that fascinates me about the shift between the book and the movie for TBoSaS is the actual intent put behind two of Snow's biggest game-changing (ha) actions, dropping the handkerchief in the snake's tank to save Lucy and recording Sejanus' confession and subsequently betraying him.

Obviously with the shift of medium they have to make things more obvious, but it's just opened more depth of thought to me because in-book how he recounts these actions are as reflexive, things done in the moment without really thinking about it (when using the remote he literally says his hands "acted on their own [...] before he had been aware of deciding to do it") vs. how in the movie he seems to actively think through and enact them knowingly. You can still make an argument that the Sejanus situation is pretty much the same, especially given that he more goads Sejanus into talking, but with Lucy's situation he literally RACES out, tears his stitches and finds the tank and doesn't just drop the kerchief, he literally has to stuff the stupid thing in a side vent, a far cry from the book's version, where he drops it and wonders if he hallucinated the entire thing.

I actually really, really am intrigued by it as a narrative change though because a) him actually consciously doing these things puts more weight behind them, they're not just things that HAPPENED to him (a common stance he takes internally), they're things he cared about making happen so he did them, but also b) it places Lucy Gray as continually the one being who makes him most human, so it makes sense that his most kind-hearted action is a decision to try to save her.

One thing that made me saddest about his character from the book was that he has this seeming inability to view anybody as a fully-fledged human besides himself (even his Capitol classmates are differing levels of crass or try-hards until he needs a reason to be emotional about them, and THEN what he cares about with them is their shared childhood memories, almost never anything about them in the present day) but when he's a mentor is the time that he becomes most fully-fledged, he has sympathy (however fleeting and easily retracted) for Clemensia and Jessup besides wanting Lucy to survive. And perhaps he only does it because he feels that he owes Lucy a debt for saving his life, but it still happens, and he still ends up seeing them.

To me, this disproves his and Dr. Gaul's thesis; I don't really think the most base human instinct is for us to hurt each other, I think it's closer to not wanting to leave each other behind. When he has the least to gain from these people, what he cares about is their survival, the least amount of their pain. What we want from each other is for you to get home safe. That's what gives it such beauty that he would risk so much to get Lucy home safe, and so much more damning that he would throw Sejanus to the wolves. That there is equal impetus behind the choice to save somebody at risk to yourself, just as there is behind condemning somebody who placed their absolute trust in you; these are the choices that make a man. Sometimes, even a flicker of humanity can save your soul within you. The tragedy is he simply didn't want it to be saved, so the flicker burnt out before it could even take shape.

[intheticklecloset]

The Sleepover (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

@veryblushyswitch​ Knocking out a whole bunch of requests with this one! I wasn’t intending to double or triple-up necessarily, but they all worked so well together that I couldn’t help myself. Also delving a little deeper into Bakugou’s “it’s complicated” response from “Get Back Here, Deku!” I love how this turned out; I think it’s really cute and sweet and exactly what our angry boi needed. Enjoy!

~

“He’s what?” Sero asked, dumbfounded. He couldn’t believe his ears. “No way.”

Deku held up his hands and shook his head. “Ah! What? No! No, that’s not what I meant, I mean…”

“Oh, yeah!” Kaminari grinned. “Kiri and I got him one time. It was hilarious.”

“There’s no way that Bakugou is ticklish,” Sero insisted.

“He – he’s not!” Deku tried to cover up his mistake, but he knew as well as Kaminari did that it was useless. The both of them had been there that day it had first been discovered by someone other than him.

“He totally is,” Denki nudged Sero, still grinning widely. “And hey, we’re having that sleepover in his room with the others tomorrow night. We can test it out then. Sound fun?”

Sero grinned back. “Oh, yeah.”

“W-Wait, guys,” Deku stammered, panicked on his friend’s behalf. “He really doesn’t like it unless—” He stopped himself. “Uh, I mean, he just doesn’t like it. It’s not worth making him mad.”

“Unless what?” Denki asked. “You were about to say he doesn’t like it unless what?”

“N-Nothing!”

Kaminari glanced at Sero and quirked a brow. Understanding perfectly, Sero pulled Deku toward him and hooked his arms under their friend’s underarms, effectively trapping him with his torso exposed for Denki to start tickling, which he did.

“Nohohohoho, wait, plehehehehehease don’t do thihihihis!” Deku begged through his instant giggles. He tried to bring his arms down but couldn’t, and when he lifted his arms up to try and wriggle out of Sero’s hold Kaminari would go for his underarms to keep him in place.

“Tell us, Midoriya,” Sero said into his ear, smirking. “We’ll tickle it out of you if we have to.”

“Gahahahahahaha!” Deku knew he would spill eventually and so decided to just get it over with. “Fihihihihine I’ll tell you! Just stohohohohop!” When they let him go, he sighed. “Kacchan only likes being tickled if it’s with someone he’s comfortable around. If he’s not comfortable with you he’ll hate every second of it. He may even start to hate you, and trust me, you don’t want that.”

Sero and Kaminari exchanged looks. There was silence for a minute.

“Thanks for letting us know, Deku,” Kaminari said at last, offering his friend a small smile. “We’ll do our best not to push him too far.”

“But we do want to mess with him tomorrow, right?” Sero asked.

“Oh, definitely. No way he’s getting out of there without laughing at least a little.”

Deku felt a little nervous for Kacchan, but decided there was nothing more he could do about it now. “H-Hey, just…don’t tell him I told you that, okay?”

“Sure, Midoriya.” Denki winked. “Not a word, right?”

*

The following evening, the two boys joined Kirishima and Mina in heading to Bakugou’s dorm room for what was sure to be a pretty crowded sleepover. No one seemed to mind, though. Not even their host, though he grumbled and complained about his room being the destination of choice.

“If we’d chosen one of our rooms you wouldn’t have joined in,” Kirishima told him with a knowing grin.

“And having it in mine would just be weird,” Mina added. “I like you guys, but not enough to have four boys spending the night in my room.”

They all laughed at that, organizing their pillows and blankets on the limited floor space while Bakugou sat on his bed and watched.

“What are even going to do in here?” he finally asked, growly but resigned. “If all we’re gonna do is sleep there’d be no point in us all being in one room for that.”

“We could play truth or dare,” Mina suggested.

“Boring,” Denki and Kiri intoned at the same time.

“What if we all went around and said something about ourselves the rest of us don’t know?” Sero suggested, glancing at Denki, who gave him a slight nod.

Mina hummed. “That could be interesting.”

“I don’t want to play some lame getting-to-know-you game,” Bakugou grumbled. “That’s such a garbage elementary school move.”

“Oh come on, Bakugou.” Kiri nudged his shoulder. “You’re no fun. Let’s just try it, yeah?”

“No.”

“Here, let’s sit in a circle,” Mina said, and the others followed her lead.

Well, except Bakugou. “Seriously? Now we’re really getting pathetic.”

Kirishima rolled his eyes. “Get your butt on this floor before I drag it there myself.”

Something seemed to pass between them in that moment, because the next thing they knew Bakugou was doing as he was told, completing the circle they’d started.

“Great!” Mina beamed. “Sero, why don’t you go first, since this was your idea?”

“Oh, sure,” Sero stammered, suddenly on the spot. He thought for a moment. “Uh, let’s see…I hate grapes.”

Everyone laughed.

“Is that because of Minetta?” Kaminari asked.

Sero blinked, then grinned. “No, but now that you mention it…that certainly doesn’t help.”

“One time when I was a kid, I sneezed so hard my acid disintegrated the ice cream cone I was holding,” Mina said, grinning. “I was really upset.”

Kirishima said, “I rescued a cat when I was nine. Stuck in a tree, just like they always are.”

Bakugou was next, but when it came to him, he kept his mouth shut.

“What’s something we don’t know about you, Bakugou?” Mina nudged.

“Plenty, and I’d like to keep it that way.” He scoffed. “This is stupid.”

“Aw, come on, man!” Denki whined, though he turned to give Sero another meaningful glance. Sero grinned slightly.

“If you don’t want to say something, I’ll do it for you,” Kirishima said. And before anyone could protest, he wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulders and announced loudly, “Katsuki Bakugou is super ticklish.”

Everyone froze. No one said a word. You could hear a pin drop. All eyes went to Bakugou, who gritted his teeth. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” Kiri insisted, keeping his firm hold on the boy’s shoulders. “And if you keep being such a grouch, I’m going to prove it to everyone right here and now.”

Denki pounced on his chance. “It’s true! I’ve seen it, too.”

“No way,” Mina exclaimed, eyes wide. “Bakugou?”

“I’m not,” the blonde growled, trying to push Kiri away from him. “Back off. I don’t want to talk about this.”

Sero hesitated for a moment, but one look from both Denki and Kiri and he jumped into action with the rest of them, lunging for Bakugou and pulling him to the floor. Mina joined in, too, and within seconds they had their friend pinned to the ground.

“Don’t!” Bakugou snapped, struggling the entire way down and trying to kick his way out once there. “I swear to god, do not tickle me, I’ll—”

“Now!” Denki shouted.

“I’ll kill you!” Bakugou swore, biting his lip hard to keep himself under control. Sero used his tape to keep his arms above his head, while Kiri sat on his calves to keep his legs from moving. “Agh! S-Stop it! Y-You’re all s-s-so dead!”

“Come on, man,” Kiri said, watching as Mina scribbled in his underarms, Sero tried his stomach, and Denki went for the ribs. He smirked at how hard his friend was fighting against the sensations. “Just let it out. Your cover’s been blown.”

“S-Shut up!” Bakugou jerked sharply when Mina wandered a little further down than just his underarms to that spot at the top of his ribs. “I-I’m n-n-not—gah!”

Mina gasped. “Was that a smile?” She went back to where she thought she’d gotten the most reaction and beamed when Bakugou’s lips tugged upward in an uncontrollable grin. “It is! Aw, you are ticklish!”

“Shut up!” Bakugou snapped, but it sounded strained, and the effect of it was lost for how big he was smiling now. “Knock it off! Kiri, you know I h-hahate this; make them stohop!”’

“Was that a giggle?” Sero asked, genuinely curious, but the way the blood rushed to Bakugou’s face was answer enough. He started to press a little harder. “My ears must be deceiving me. I gotta hear it again.”

“You don’t hate this,” Kirishima said gently, finally joining in himself by grabbing onto his friend’s thighs and squeezing. “You’re just not used to being so open about how much fun you’re having.”

Bakugou jolted again, harder this time, and a single, clear giggle escaped his lips.

“Dude, he’s blushing!” Sero exclaimed, laughing. “This is great!”

“Why not just laugh, Bakugou?” Mina asked in a sweet, teasing tone. “It’s got to be killing you to keep it bottled up like that.”

“Why don’t we kick it up a notch?” Denki smirked. He activated his quirk the tiniest bit, wiggling into their friend’s bottom ribs, and finally – finally – the angry blonde stopped fighting it.

“Nohohohohohoho!” Bakugou hated that he’d lost control so quickly, but there was nothing he could do about it now except fight with his words. “Dahahahang you, Kaminahari, I’ll kihihill you, I swear! NOHOHOHOHO!!” He tossed his head back with a shriek as the electric sparks intensified, moving up toward his death spot. “Gahahahahahahahahaha! Stahahahahahahahahahap!”

“Don’t think so, man,” Denki teased, letting up on his electric attack when he got to the sweet spot, figuring that would tickle enough on its own. “Tickle, tickle, Bakugou~”

Bakugou’s face turned a dark, dark red as he sputtered in the split second before his laughter became explosive. “DOHOHOHOHOHOHOHON’T!!”

“There we go!” Kirishima began to dig in harder as well, sending his friend into further hysterics. “You sound really happy when you laugh, you know. It’s nice to hear.”

“STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” Bakugou shouted through his laughter, twisting and writhing. “YOU JEHEHEHEHERKS, I’LL MUHUHUHURDER YOU ALL!!”

“Well that’s not very nice!” Mina pouted, beginning to go harder as well, focusing on his underarms. “You should be punished for thinking such awful things!”

Sero grinned, digging in as well, and now all four of them were giving it their all, pulling laugh after shrieking laugh from their constantly angry friend. Bakugou’s mind grew foggier and foggier with each tickle that assaulted him, making him lose track of who was doing what and where.

“Aww, look how cute you are!” Mina teased him, beaming.

Sero chuckled. “His laugh sounds like a fireworks show.”

“Not ticklish, huh, King Explosion Murder?” Kirishima chimed in.

“STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” Bakugou yelled again, sounding more desperate this time. He pulled at the tape on his arms, tried to buck his hips. He was trapped. “GEHEHEHEHEHET OFF, YOU MOHOHOHOHOHORONS!!”

“If I didn’t know better,” Denki mused, “I’d say he’s a little sensitive to teasing.”

Mina nearly squealed. “Do you like being teased? Does it make you super flustered to have four people tickling you at once? You can’t hide how red you’re getting; I think you do like teasing!”

“I DOHOHOHOHOHO NOT!!” Bakugou practically screamed with laughter when she traveled back down to that sweet spot and dug in there. “STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!! YOU GUYS, PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

Mina, Sero, and Denki gasped in unison. “He said please!”

“Scream all you want, Bakugou!” Kaminari laughed, igniting his tickly electric sparks again. “No one’s coming to save you. Nothing can stop us now!”

And with that, Bakugou absolutely broke. “PLEASE!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE, NO MOHOHOHOHORE!! I’M BEHEHEHEHEHEGGING YOU!! KIRISHIMA, GET THEM TO STOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOP!!”

Seeing that his friend was truly desperate for a reprieve, Kirishima let up and shouted for the others to do the same. “All right, that’s enough! Let him go, he can’t take any more.”

Trusting that their redheaded friend knew what he was talking about, the three others let up their attacks as well. Sero cut the tape binding Bakugou to the floor and gathered it up while the blonde pulled his arms down and rolled onto his side, curling up into a protective ball. It stunned all three of them to see how out of breath he was.

Mina broke the silence first. “You okay, Bakugou?”

He was silent for a moment. Then, “I told you to stop.”

Mina, Sero, and Kaminari looked at each other worriedly. When he’d been yelling ‘stop’ before, it was through laughter, so they didn’t take him seriously. Now that it was over, though…

“You can stop pretending, Bakugou,” Kirishima said in that gentle tone, scooting forward to place a hand on his leg. “You don’t have to be Mr. Tough Guy all the time. Not here. Not with us. You’re allowed to be yourself, you know.”

“I don’t like being tickled.” Bakugou’s voice was so quiet it was almost a whisper.

“Unless?” Kiri prompted.

Again the other three looked at each other, then back to the blonde, silent. Waiting. For a long minute, no one said a word. Then Bakugou sat up, his back turned to them but facing Kirishima.

“Unless I feel…comfortable. Safe.”

Safe. All four friends looked at each other now, Kiri included.

“Safe…how?” Mina asked quietly.

“Safe from being pushed past my limits.” Bakugou’s voice was gruff as usual, but it was quieter now, and completely sincere. He hunched his shoulders. “Safe from the whole class finding out. The whole school. The world. I don’t want to be like Deku, getting randomly tickled all the time. I don’t even want that from my friends. I just…” He sighed. “I don’t want to be tickled unless I know I’m going to be safe from all of that. Being ticklish is a weakness.”

“It’s not—” Kiri started to say.

“It is,” Bakugou continued firmly, making eye contact now. “And that’s why I don’t want it to be exposed to anyone but those I feel comfortable with. Like you guys.”

Those last three words made their hearts swell. Kirishima scooted forward again and pulled Bakugou into a hug. “You’re safe with us. I promise.” The others concurred, moving forward as well, making it a group hug.

Bakugou remained tense for a moment, then let out another sigh and relaxed into their embrace. He was still uncertain, still on edge, and even a little scared, if he was honest. He’d never really had friends before – just lackeys that would follow him around everywhere because they thought he was cool. This was different, this opening up, this being honest with himself as well as others. Having friends he could trust with his life – literally. But it was a new chapter of his life that – as long as he was still being honest – he was looking forward to reading.

From somewhere within the group hug, Kirishima said, “You know your laugh really brightens up the room?”

Bakugou smiled. “Shut up, Kiri.”

[aria-writes]

Good Morning Westchester

So here’s the first oneshot I ever wrote that I’ was actually proud of.

prompt used: my best friend dragged me to a party some of the senior football players are throwing and it’s really boring and the only interesting thing is the boy playing beer pong on the patio

Words: 1631

Sometimes I wonder why I'm here, as in life and death and existence and all that. Maybe there's meaning somewhere out there, or maybe there's not. Maybe the people out there doing yoga at mountainside resorts seeking enlightenment are just fooling themselves and others, wasting their time and money chasing something unattainable.

Sometimes I wonder why I'm here, as in THIS FLIPPING PARTY FULL OF HUMANS. HUMANS, I TELL YE.

"Hi, I'm Bill Hearst, and this is my colleague, Tyler Josef."

I pasted a well-practiced smile on my face and tuned the oh-so familiar voice out.

Presenting, the reason why. That's my best friend, we've known each other since diapers. Comes from money, but is actually pretty down-to-earth. Though the line starts to blur between eccentric and just plain nuts.

A goth chick looked me up and down. My pastel dress and matching earrings... and nails... and shoes... and purse... probably don't exactly scream 'Tyler'.

"Uh. Nice to meet you both."

I did my best to smile, but I really don't want to be here. I'd rather be reading. Maybe I can hide in the bathroom?

I banished the thought. Who knows what kind of germs are in there.

By the time I fully returned to the real world, the goth girl had left.

I poked Bill on the arm and frowned.

"Why do you always do this?"

"Because it's fun." Bill grinned at me. "I'm still waiting for the first person to question if that's your real name. Besides, gender blender names are all the rage with white suburban soccer moms now. Blake, Spencer, Ryan, Jackson, Connor, Alexander..."

I crossed my arms and waited for him to finish, but he kept going. "Why do you KNOW this?"

Bill shrugged. "Because I google random stuff instead of studying. Noah, Mason, Kyle, Levi, Maxwell, Evan, Oliver, Sebastian..."

I put my hand up to stop him. "Okay, well, Sebastian is a horrible name to give your child, no matter what gender they are."

Bill swung around me and leaned against the wall.

"First of all, Michael, that's offensive to Sebastians everywhere. Secondly, who doesn't want to share a name with a crab?" He cocked his head to the side. "Or was it a lobster?"

Some drunk girl came out of nowhere, running into the wall right next to me.

"Ariiiiana Graaande? Isss that yooouu?" She slurred, reaching out at me a little too enthusiastically for my liking.

I could hear Bill snickering on my other side.

I took a step back, eyes wide. "Very much no."

"Oh." She looked disappointed, then wandered off in a haze.

I shook my head and looked around at the few people milling about.

"This place is so dead. Aren't teen parties supposed to be all, all night rages and burning down houses?"

Bill adjusted his vest and gave me a funny look.

"Don't believe everything you hear. Maybe we should get you somewhere less flammable."

I sighed and leaned against the wall, rolling my shoulders back.

"Is it too much to ask—"

Bill shook his head slightly, cutting me off.

"I am an extrovert, Phineas Taylor, and this may be hard for you to understand, but if I don't get human interaction, I can and will die." He stared at me with complete seriousness.

I furrowed my brows. "...Uh huh."

Bill sighed and tugged at the cuff of his sleeve. "They have a patio? But you have to promise you won't throw yourself into the pool or something crazy like that."

I leaned forward and shook his hand with a little too much enthusiasm. "Deal. Besides, you're more likely to do that than I am."

We weaved around two people arguing about something that had to do with the budget of the student government. I don't understand how people get so invested in this stuff, but okay.

I closed my eyes and leaned out over the balcony as we stepped into the fresh air. "Ah, peace and qu—"

"THIS IS NOT LIKE WII POOL AT ALL!" A high-pitched, but still decidedly male voice yelled.

I raised my head and stared out over the balcony like I was looking into a camera on The Office.

Bill laughed at my disgruntled expression. "You're the only who was complaining about it being boring a few minutes ago!"

"Well, I didn't mean... this!" I whisper-shouted and gestured over to a table surrounded by loud teenage boys. Are there any other kind?

Bill elbowed me. "That would be beer pong, my young sheltered friend."

I rolled my eyes.

"Never mind, that's it. Sorry, but I'm jumping in the—" I was about to head down the stairs of the balcony when something caught my eye. Blonde curly hair, greenish eyes (as far as I can tell from here), and a dazzling smile.

Oh no, he's hot.

I was probably staring for ten minutes straight.

"If you're really bored, we can head out." Bill's voice startled me and jolted me out of my thoughts.

"I, uh, wuh?" I stuttered, pulling my eyes away and trying to appear unfazed. "I mean, nah, I can stay."

Bill saw right through that.

"Finally found something that piqued your interest, eh? Or someone?"

He followed my gaze over to where Blondie was receiving instructions from a slightly confused redhead. "Aha." He pushed off the balcony and started walking over to them.

I eyed him suspiciously. "Where are you going, Liam?"

"WOO! AND THAT'S HOW IT'S DONE, SON!" Blondie pumped his fists into his air and danced around in a small circle, whacking his hip against the table in the process. "Ow!"

Bill waved me off. "Don't you trust me?"

Red rolled his eyes. "I'm a year older than—"

Blondie grabbed his shoulders, grinning from ear to ear. "Shut up and eat in the moment."

I blinked a few times. "...no? Not really? Willy-Billy, you get back here or I'm going to call you even more embarrassing nicknames for the rest of your life—" I looked to my left and my right, then inched closer.

Red reached up and slowly pushed Blondie's hands off his arms. "It's 'drink in the moment', Race."

Blondie shrugged, seemingly undeterred. "I've heard it both ways."

Red pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "No you haven't."

Bill finally reached the table, grabbing Blondie and Red's attention. I'm too far away to hear what's being said over the general noise. What the heck does he think he's—

Blondie looked over at me and we made eye contact. I felt my face flush as he grinned at me.

Wait just a clock tick, is he moving towards me?

Wait, no, what do I do? What do I say? 'Hi, I want your babies'? Absolutely not. Not that. It's probably too late to run and pretend like I didn't see him, but I'm just standing here frozen. At least I know I won't pass out because you have to have a drop in your blood pressure to faint, and mine has definitely risen. That's not helpful, me! I don't need your useless paramedical facts!

Blondie shoved his hands in his pockets as he approached me.

"So, Halo, right?" Even his voice is drop dead gorgeous, if that makes any sense.

"Guh?" I blinked dumbly.

The only good thing about me currently being rooted to the spot is, I don't think I'm going to fall over at least?

"Your friend said that was your name, Halo, like the angel..." He gestured above his head with a small smile.

...Bill, I am going to murder you.

I scoffed in disbelief and shook my head.

"Yeah, not exactly. He never calls me by my real name, though. I should be glad it wasn't anything embarrassing like 'Princess'." I unconsciously picked at the skin at the edges of my fingernails.

Blondie smiled and leaned forward.

"Eh, I get that. I don't go by my real name, either. Everyone calls me Race. Pleasure to meet you."

You know what? He looks like a male version of Rapunzel. Be still, my heart.

I reminded myself to keep breathing. I tried to lean against the balcony and, I dunno, look cool I guess, but I missed and almost fell over.

I felt my heart leap into my throat as I frantically regained my balance.

"Bwuh— I mean, you too. I mean, me too. I mean, the pleasure is all mine and... Is that short for Eraser?"

Race glanced down and snorted, smirking. "That's a new one. No, it's Racetrack. Racetrack Higgins." He took my hand, lips brushing against my knuckles.

Wow. I'm an idiot. Also, I can feel my whole face going red. Error 404 gateway timeout—

"Oh. Sorry." I clenched and unclenched my free hand in an effort to release tension any way I could.

"You can call me anything you want, doll. Oh, speaking of which," He pressed a slip of paper into my palm and winked. "Call me sometime, hm?"

Have you ever seen someone so beautiful you just started crying? I know it sounds weird, but this one time—

I bit my lip and shifted my weight from one side to the other. "Yeah, um, I will."

"Cool." Blondie– I mean Race– did finger guns at me. "See you around." He headed back in Red's direction.

I smiled, awestruck, then turned and walked away in a bit of a daze. What just happened?

I walked right into Bill.

"Yo, Eminem. What can I say except you're welcome?" He did ridiculous jazz hands, which made me laugh despite everything else.

"Shut up, Billiam. But thanks, I guess." I glanced down at my hand, still smiling. Maybe this whole 'socializing with other human beings' thing wasn't completely awful and pointless after all.

[yayforstuffs]

Fireside

There were many things that Seth expected the old man to find upon walking into the living room of his home, whether it was the younger sitting in front of a pile of jewelry attempting to make it cooperate, or perhaps reading up on spell tomes and trying to expand his knowledge of the world, or maybe occupied with books from the library on different areas of Hyrule, learning as much as he could about possible places for him to go once he’d gotten a solid footing on how to live a life in hiding.

What he did not expect the old man to find upon walking into the living room of his home was to find him just sitting in front of the fire, near entranced by the flames weaving and waving and flickering to and fro across the logs. Seth hadn’t even heard him come in and didn’t know he was there until he cleared his throat, making the young man nearly jump out of his skin and whirl around to face the other, hand clutched over his necklace pendant through his shirt and mouth opening to cast a spell. He then remembered magic was useless in the house, and also registered who it was standing several feet away.

“I get that fire’s pretty, but I didn’t realize it warranted staring at it unmoving for a solid half hour.”

That was even worse.

Vesroh stepped forward until he was standing next to Seth, and looked down at him from the corner of his eye.

“You’re not a pyromaniac, are you? You did say you’d burned down that hide-” And he cut off. Presumably because Seth’s head was sinking into his shoulders and he refused to meet Vesroh’s gaze that was now fully on him. “…I’m only teasing; if it brought up any bad memories-”

“No, it’s… you didn’t.”

“Mm.” Vesroh’s head turned back towards the fireplace. “I apologize for scaring you. I still have yet to completely adjust to someone else being in my house that I need to alert my presence to in order to not scare the wits out of them.”

Seth’s hammering heart finally began to slow down as his hand almost reluctantly released his shirt. “…It’s fine.”

Silence hung in the air, thick and tangibly awkward. Vesroh was the one that broke it.

“I was jumpy at first, too.”

Seth looked up at him, expression inquiring of further explanation to the statement. The older man grunted as he slowly sat himself down as well, settling with one hand propping himself up behind him as the other rested on a bent knee in front of him.

“Western Castle Town isn’t where I first set up shop. I originally came from the east side of Hyrule. That’s where I began my business, and that’s also where I made some deadly enemies.” Seth pulled his legs up to his chest and rested his arms on them. “I remember when I was like you- paranoid that every shadow would hold some assassin or thug sent out after me. I moved across the entire country just to try to get away from them. Learned how to live a life constantly guarding myself.”

“Which is why you knew what I needed to do?” Seth piped up quietly. Vesroh nodded.

“Which is why I knew what you needed to do.” He started to speak again, but was stopped by Seth.

“So… does that mean…” His eyebrows were scrunched in thought, eyes wandering the floor before settling back on Vesroh. “Are you always disguised, too?”

There was a second of silence as Vesroh’s eyes met his, and then the older gave a small puff of a resigned sigh through his nose as he turned back to look at the fire. “I am. My appearance that you see now resembles nothing of what I really look like.” He must have sensed the incoming question, because he then said, “And no, I’m not going to ever show you my real appearance. It’s safer for the both of us if you don’t know it.”

Seth’s attention returned to the fire as well, disappointment showing in the form of slumped shoulders. Staring at the fire, he was reminded of what started the whole conversation, and he wondered whether it would be too late to give some sort of explanation for his fixation on it earlier.

“You wear a necklace under your shirt?”

The old man- or… was he actually old? Makeup, Seth knew, could lie quite well in the hands of a master. Vesroh, then, was rather observant to catch that.

…Or maybe he wasn’t, as Seth didn’t try to hide his grabbing it upon being startled.

“I do, yeah.” His mind clicked together what hiding a necklace might look like to the jeweler whose house he was staying in, and he jolted, hand shooting to pull it out and show it to the other. “But- it’s not something I’ve stolen, it’s-!” Once it was out and no Quivering Palm had stopped his heartbeat, he breathed out and let his shoulders relax. “I’ve had this since I was a kid.” He supposed it was actually a good segue into his excuse. “I’ve been a magic user since I was born.”

“If you weren’t a magic user, you could’ve fooled me.”

Seth’s head turned up towards Vesroh. “Yes, but I’ve been one since birth. Not a lot of people are.” Vesroh raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? …Huh. I always thought magic was something you were born with.”

Seth shook his head and looked forwards again. “No, most people have to study it and teach it to themselves. Sure, they’re born with magic power, but they usually can’t use it ‘til they actually learn to. I was casting magic when I was barely a year old.”

“…I see.”

“It was fire, all of it. Apparently, some family member of mine had some sort of positive interaction with a Phoenix, and it decided to thank whoever did that by giving me a bunch of fire magic. Which… as you can imagine, wasn’t good for a newborn to have,” he said with a small grin and the tiniest breath of a laugh. “It… caused some trouble for my parents. When I was three, I still had no control over when I would suddenly set something on fire, and we’d gotten in trouble so much with the city and our neighbors over it that we just decided it was better if we moved out. But Mom had some important job or something she had to do in Castle Town, so she stayed there with my sister.”

Vesroh stiffened next to him. “You have a sister?” Seth nodded, eyes still on the fire.

“Mom and Dad didn’t want one of them to be without one of us, so Mom kept my sister, and Dad took me out to a small village on the plains, where he’d heard there was a sage-like figure that could help me learn to control it. Mom and Dad wrote letters to each other, and because my sister and I didn’t want to be separated, they took a pair of earrings and gave one to me, and-”

“The other to your sister?”

“Yeah. My ears weren’t pierced, though, and I was terrified of getting them done, so Dad got someone to put it on a necklace instead. They said we’d always be with each other that way.” Another small laugh escaped. “It was a way to calm us down, and it worked. I made sure to wear this every day, and by now, the habit’s stuck. Besides, it’s my spellcasting focus, so… Can’t exactly go without wearing it now, anyways.” He held the necklace up, staring down at the silver square bipyramid charm on it.

“…I’m sure she’s been wearing it since, too,” came the quiet response from Vesroh.

Seth let out a bitter laugh. “If she’s still alive, after what happened to Castle Town. Our house was in the center of town.”

“Where the monsters…?”

He nodded, and then stuck the chain back down his shirt before crossing his arms on his legs again and resting his head on them.

“…I said I wanted to go up north. Specifically, I… it’s dumb, but… I want to go see if…”

“If your mom and sister are still there.”

Seth didn’t look up, but after a moment, gave a hushed reply. “…Yeah.”

Again, there was quiet.

And again, Vesroh was the first to speak.

“I understand. Sometimes, you… you have a hope that you have to see through, see if it’s true, no matter how much you think it’s false.” Seth glanced up at Vesroh to find that he was looking down at him now, with an almost sad grin. “I know that feeling all too well.”

Seth returned the look.

“You and I are a lot alike, huh?”

Vesroh turned back to the fire. “…Perhaps.”

Seth did as well, and they sat together in silence.

[wanderer-of-sol]

Wanderer of Sol - Business Chapter 1

Here’s a little taste of a novel I’ve been working on in my spare time.

Chapter1

Wanderer had found himself on this table a dozen or more times before. It was dark as pitch, but he could feel the cold stainless steel work surface chill his back and fingertips through the haze of general anesthetics. Muttered and muddied words struggled to meet his ears, wading through the fog of his mind, and blackness of his vision. No amount of effort would allow him to open his eyes, or feel his face. A buzzing, burrowing sound rattled in his skull, chattering his teeth against the plastic tapping of a breathing tube invading his throat and lungs. Time passed at a trickle, and Wanderer lost track of the sounds and sensations violating his unmoving shell. Suddenly a stitch of light poured in through the darkness, in one eye. Pixels and artifacts flashed before him. It was like dreaming of meaningless text and menus as they floated into his consciousness. Nothing was in focus, not even his mind. He could hear the pulsing of life monitoring equipment and the muttering sharpened into words.

“That should do it. Let's get the other one out and replaced, then we'll work on removing the first arm. The other teams are backed up with limb enhancement, so we might as well lend them a hand, so to speak.” The voice let out a quiet half-laugh, but was calm and cold as it echoed. It had done this a dozen or more times before.

A moment later a distant frantic chirping could be heard, like a cat had snatched a sparrow from the air. Then another was caught much closer.

“Doctor, something's wrong with the anesthetic machine. The gas levels are dropping rapidly. There may be a leak!” Came another voice, as Wanderer was greeted with pounding soreness.

“Well, find the leak and replace the tank, asap! You know how hard it is to keep these things sedated!” The voice barked, as if trying to scare away the cats. It began to lose it's cool and calm tone as more and more machines started to chirp their warning alarms all around Wanderer.

As he regained feeling to his face and control over his eyes, sight came back, fuzzy in one eye. The other eye's vision was obscured with invisible shapes, and text flash by as it displayed “Initial setup” in his mind. Above him floated a familiar visage, in the reflective focusing plate of the operation light. Thin cuts bled lightly around his right eye. A portion of his light brown hair was removed, in preparation for who knew what. The only clues were the black marker on his lightly tanned skin, directing where and how to cut to the uncaring voices that scrambled around him. His beard was much longer and messier than he had remembered it being. That somehow made sense to him, as he felt like he had been sleeping for so long before waking up where he was.

The chirping grew louder and more frantic as the voices in the room, separated by curtains hanging from the ceiling and lightly muffled by medical face masks, grew louder and more frantic in turn. All attention on him was lost as he pulled the tube from his throat with a cough. Sitting on the edge of what felt like a mortuary's examination table, Wanderer's gaze drifted to what he felt was the center of the room. Something drew him there as the separating curtains started to shift and billow towards him. The only warning of what came next was the sudden flying bodies of doctors, nurses and those they worked on, along with the tables they rested on and tools used on them. They came in a wave as Wanderer's own table was lifted and thrown in turn. He sailed through the air with scalpels and bone saws as his vision was taken up by the rapidly approaching floor.

With a start, Wanderer jumped awake. It had happened like this a dozen or more times before.

“What the fuck's your problem, Wanderer?” Came a familiar voice. Wanderer's eyes focused much faster than they had for him moments ago. The girl sitting beside him was colorful in the way of a poisonous animal, but also foreboding like a raven. Her hair, or what remained of it, was trimmed into a mohawk with a blade of blue, violet and deep red down the center, and short black scruff on the sides. Her eyes were a piercing brown that burned a hole into Wanderer. Her ripped and torn clothes were stitched together to compensate for the scars of many bar brawls, dirty jobs gone poorly, and questionable fashion choices. Even in the year 2422, punk was alive and well in this woman.

“I'm fine, Munin. Just that fuckin' dream again.” Wanderer explained, rubbing his face with both hands, in attempts to brush off the grog left by his nap.

“Great. So I guess we'll be turning around and scheduling a trip for Venus soon?” She seemed annoyed to say the least.

“No, I'm good. We've got places to be and deadlines to make. I just need some coffee. Where are we?” Wanderer replied, stretching his arms in the cramped pilot's cabin. There was an audible pop and a sigh somewhere between relief and pain.

“Like, ten minutes from entering Martian atmosphere. Maybe half an hour from Sulci Gordii Port. I already called in docking with Olympus Mons air traffic while you slacked off.” The evidence of her annoyance was beginning to become clear. Wanderer didn't realized how long he had been out.

“I can take us down, if you want.” He rationed, attempting to get on her good side, but she wasn't having that.

“Nope. Go get yourself some brew. You're useless to me as a captain if you're fuckin' falling asleep.” She wasn't even looking at him any more. Her eyes were on her screen and her hands were finding the switches needed to adjust shields for entry, and line up her orbit to get them where they needed to be. “And call Gomez once you can string together a sentence without yawning. We don't have the funds to sit around in port an extra hour waiting for him to bring the fuckin' goods to the dock.” She added, before switching on the comms and confirming her landing request. Wanderer was always amazed at her ability to sound like a cold hard bitch when talking to him, but a decently sweet thing when chatting to the girl on air traffic control.

Wanderer found his way to the common area with one final yawn and discovered what looked like the coffee maker scattered out in parts across the kitchen table. Above it stood his other crew mate, with a screwdriver in one hand and a crystal pendulum draped in the other. All he could do was ask, “Ah, Robin? What's up with all this?” as his mind was still waking up.

“Oh, hey man. Uh. Well, he wasn't feeling well, so I decided to preform surgery while you were sleeping. I didn't expect it to take this long, but I dropped a screw and it rolled into the vents so I had to take apart the grav-pads on the floor to find it. And when I did, some other screws floated away. Long story short, we're about to find the source of this guy's upset tummy and I'll slap him back together in no time.” She explained while dangling the pendulum over the exploded layout of heating coils and PCB boards. To any normal person she would appear insane, but Wanderer had been traveling with Robin for a couple years now, and she was an expert in things he only had a cursory understanding in. And for Wanderer to only have a  cursory understanding in anything of the sort was rare.

“Well, that's good. Anyway, did you make a fresh pot before starting the operation?” He inquired, while wondering if there was any instant left. Or maybe tea. He wasn't picky at this point in time.

“Um, that probably would have been a good idea. Here, you can finish mine if you want.” She said, before putting the screwdriver in her teeth like a pirate holding a dagger, picking up her half drank mug and tapping it down in front of Wanderer. “Ah ha!” she let out, half muffled by the screwdriver as she took it back to her hand. The pendulum's cord pulled tight, contradicting the suggestions given by gravity, pointing directly what Robin diagnosed as a damaged connection leading to the heating coil. “Just found the problem. If you want to wait fifteen I'll have him back together and brewing a new pot.” The goggles she dawned for the surgery amplified the size and brilliance of her blue-green eyes, before she flipped down the tinted welding lenses. It's strap around the back of her head bunched her hair into random tufts of light brown. To be honest, at the moment she looked a little like a mad scientist standing over the Frankenstein's monster of a kitchen appliance.

“Thanks, I'll take yours. I've got to call Gomez in a minute.” Wanderer responded, picking up her mug and walking towards his room, away from the small flying sparks and wafting smoke.

Sipping the coffee gave him a sudden jolt of energy and clarity. It was cold and about half as sweet as he'd like, but it had a certain kick only someone like him could put their finger on. He took another sip, and swirled the remaining shallow cloud of heavily creamed coffee, revealing a peculiar set of lines at the bottom of the mug. Probably the remnants of some artificial sweetening gel, like synthesized syrup or molasses. Time to call Gomez.

“Yeah, hi. This is Jon Dillir. I spoke to you about a shipment.” The voice of “Gomez” on the other line must not have minded that Wanderer was using an alias. Dealing in such rare and potentially dangerous things often prompted Wanderer to take names like Jon, or Bill. The fact that no one knew his name could always be a boon to Wanderer. The fact that he, himself, didn't know his real name was rarely anything more than an inconvenience, even if the question did hold a weight in his mind.

“Yeah, we'll be docking shortly, and we're in a bit of a rush, so... Yeah, of course I have goods to trade as well as credits. Yeah, untraceable. You know me Gomez. We're both professionals here. I'll see you at dock thirteen in a few minutes. We'll deal in my cargo bay away from prying eyes... No I don't mind if you bring some guys. Mi casa es tu casa, Gomez.” Wanderer said as he hung up. Gomez was being a pain in the ass. The few times they had done business before had gone smoothly, if not a little tense. Gomez was new to the trade, but brought decent items to the table. Why Gomez would want to bring some extra muscle onto Wanderer's ship was unclear, but Wanderer had done business under worse stress and peril.

Chapter 2 here

[qvicksilversass]

Bad Habit - Part 10

(Pietro Maximoff x Reader) 

You make a decision that has bigger consequences than you could ever imagine.

Words: 2596 Warnings: Angst, language, violence, (the usual :p)

An: I’m rubbish at summaries, some parts should be spoken in sokovian but I thought it read better in english, just imagine you have an inner translator :p Let me know what you think. x

Tags:  @goal-mine, @aweways, @iamtheonewhocares,  @wellfuckbuck, @sevenhelens,  @marinaclaridge,  @bugalouie,  @randomlazymusiclover, @officialstegosaurus, @narnian-neverlander, @lexbugz, 

(Let me know if you want to be tagged/removed in this or anything else)

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Watching Bucky walk away felt like the only untouched piece of your heart was ripped out of your chest, leaving with him. You had never felt so alone, you’d all but lost the man you loved and now Bucky. You still remember the moment you knew he would be your best friend, him and Steve, when you thought it would be forever.

Steve had been cooking a meal for all the Avengers to introduce you and Bucky permanently into the team. You were beyond nervous, assigned to chopping vegetables while Bucky peeled potatoes. Both of you worked in nervous silence, smiling at Steve pottering around the kitchen. You had gotten used to it just being the three of you and you weren’t sure you could handle all these new people.

There was a loud crash as metal hit tile and Steve stood with his hands on hips staring down at the huge pan of Stew splattered all over the floor and all over his trousers. He was silent a moment, then came out with the foulest words you ever heard pass his lips.

You and Bucky both shouted “Language!” at the same time, holding your hands up when Steve spun around his eyes blazing, and you glanced at each other dying not to laugh.

“It just slipped out!” You snickered and Bucky spluttered into laughter, genuine laughter that lit up his whole face and took you down with him into a fit of giggles.

“Yeah, laugh it up jerks.” Steve grumbled before he caved, joining in and throwing towels at you both to help clean up.

It was such a simple moment, yet you knew you were supposed to be here with them, you felt so at ease, you were home and you didn’t have to pretend anymore.

Now as you watch Steve run down the corridor toward you, all you see is sadness and guilt, fear that you’ll never get that carefree friendship back.

“Where’s Buck? What happened?” Steve grabs your wrist stopping you from running away and you spin around to face him.

“He kissed me.”

“He did what?!”

“He told me he loved me, and I just froze I didn’t know what to say…I don’t know where it came from?“ 

Steve groaned, running his hand through his hair, “Damnit Buck.“ 

"Wait, you knew?! Why didn’t you tell me?!” How long had they been keeping this from you? You pushed on his chest but he held you firmly, letting you take your anger out on him.

“He asked me not to, y/n. You were with Pietro, what good would it do?” You couldn’t really argue with him, at least you had these months with Bucky, if he told you back then would it have gone the same way? “he’ll come around y/n just give him some time. I’ll talk to him when I get back, it’ll be ok.”

“You’re leaving?” You stare up at him distancing yourself from him again.

“We got a lead on the guy that did this, they killed the scientist that created the drug but kept his files.”

Your heart raced at the chance to finally do something,“give me five minutes, I’ll get suited up-”

“No. Y/n,” he pulls you back, holding your arms, “we need you here, not killing yourself getting revenge. We don’t even know if he has the data on him.”

“Steve, I’m coming with you!”

“I’ll update you as much as I can okay? Take this, it’s on our frequency if you need us.” He hands you a com and you fight the urge to throw it back at him, no way were you sitting this one out.

“Steve, you can’t-”

Wanda walks around the corner dressed in her battle gear and you glare at Steve, shrugging out of his hold. Are you kidding me?! So Wanda could go but not you? Steve knew exactly what you were thinking and you start to say something when Wanda pulls you into a hug, “I can’t help him like you can y/n, stay and help him for me?”

Don’t worry, when we have the information I will make him suffer and destroy what is left of his brain, he’ll re-live his worst fears a thousand times.

Her venomous words snaked their way into your mind a frightening contrast to her almost caring smile, and you stepped away quickly, not doubting she meant every word.

“Bucky will be here if anything goes wrong." 

"No he won’t.”

“Y/n whatever he said, this is Bucky, if your life is in danger he’s not gonna sit back and watch." 

But that’s all you can do as Steve and Wanda make their way to the jet, you want to scream, feeling so useless and angry, you wanted to find the bastard that took Pietro and break his neck, put a bullet right between his eyes.

Wandering around in a angry haze, you find yourself in the doorway of Pietro’s room for the first time since he left all those weeks ago. You couldn’t face it before, now it was all you had left. You lie down in his bed, curling up and pulling his pillow to you, the scent of him long since gone.

Shuffling to the edge of the bed you notice Pietro’s little picture you’d had copied and framed for his birthday still on his desk, dust slightly beginning to obscure the image. You turn it over and over bite your lip, holding in a smile that he’d kept the message to him on the back. Then your stomach flipped when it struck you that this might be the only copy now. Hydra had probably just thrown the original away, like nothing. 

Your fingers drift over the other pictures and you spot the polaroid leaning against the back of the desk. You didn’t know he’d kept this either. The first picture of you, Wanda and Pietro together, taken at Tony’s christmas party. The three of you looked so happy dressed in silly jumpers and hats. Pietro with his arms around both your shoulders, his face turned to you slightly and a light blush dusting your cheeks, a goofy grin on your face.

You would have sworn it was from the alcohol but it was always Pietro. You wished you could remember what he said. Probably some flirty remark to make Wanda roll her eyes, you missed that so much. Fuck, you missed him so much. Your thumb brushed over the image and you felt tears well in your eyes again.

Fuck this. You were sick of being useless, you wanted Pietro back, one way or another you would get that shit out of Pietro’s brain. You fold up the photo, putting it into your pocket and grab the small frame from the desk, only stopping to close the door behind you. 

Disabling the security cameras you make your way into the lab, grabbing a tranquilizer and typing in Bruce’s password, all those days spent observing you remembered everything by heart. You knew you didn’t have long, Tony or Bruce would be alerted soon so you set the resuscitation into motion, injecting him with the latest antidote on the system and setting the door to lock as soon as you had entered.

"Pietro can you hear me?”

Pietro blurs around you, blue and white energy fills the cell, he knocks into you but doesn’t attack, not yet.

“It’s y/n. Do you remember me?” Pietro skids to a stop right in front of you, his face only inches from yours and you fight the urge to step back, your fingers tightening around the tranquilizer.

“Here again Printessa?” he traces his hand along your jaw and suddenly grabs your throat shoving you against the wall, “I can’t seem to kill you can I?”

As soon as his skin touches yours all your nightmares hit you at once, you start to panic and it takes a moment to regain control of the connection. Pietro loosens his grip on your neck grabbing his head as the jolt of pain hits him. Using the distraction you place your hands either side of his head, repeating the gentle nudge of your powers and forcing him to kneel with you.

You fight your way past his memories, past his power, searching deeper, fighting your way through the darkness. It follows you pulling at your mind trying to force you out. You keep running, chasing the light, dragging yourself through the never ending tunnel as pain travels through every nerve of your body. 

Reaching out your hand closes around the worn metal handle yanking the door open and running through, the tunnel collapsing behind you. Slamming it shut you lean back against the wood catching your breath.

“Mama, tell her she’s stealing my food again!”

The apartment is small and cosy, and you observe the family just sitting down to dinner…Pietro’s family. What is this? 

“Wanda, stop stealing your brother’s dinner!”  A woman strolls past you, ruffling Pietro’s hair as she sets Wanda’s plate down. She’s so close she almost hits you the fabric of her dress brushing your arm and you stumble back a few steps. 

You remember them from his picture and a few of his memories, yet this is so real you could reach out and touch them. His mother was so beautiful, a mixture of Pietro’s blue eyes, Wanda’s wavy auburn hair and kind smile. His father an older version of Pietro, that same mischievous smirk playing on his lips while he watched his wife referee the twins.  

You move through the apartment expecting them to turn and ask who you were, but they couldn’t see you. You step behind his father and notice something that doesn’t belong there, the figure huddled in the corner. It’s too hazy to make out clearly, so you step closer only to be distracted by Pietro making pig noises at Wanda, he was so cute. 

“You’re going to get fat! Like a big fat pig!” He teases and Wanda crosses her arms kicking him under the table.

“Papa! Tell Pietro to be quiet!" 

"Eat your food Pietro!” his father scolds him and they make faces at each other their parents rolling their eyes, they were so sweet, so innocent.

“Thank you papa.”  

“He always takes your side.” Pietro grumbles, sticking his fork in his mashed potatoes and leaning on his hand, pouting. You giggled, even then he had it down to an art form, that pout could get him anything he wanted.

Wanda flicks his ear,“that’s because I’m the best, brother.”

“Pfft, I’m the oldest, that makes me the best!”

“Stop it you two!” Their mother laughs and they all carry on talking and laughing, just enjoying being together, they seemed so happy.

The whole apartment starts to shake, cutlery rattling on the table and an air raid siren starts to wail. Pietro grabs Wanda’s hand and their parents look at each other in panic. 

The bomb hits and you crouch down and cover your ears the boom of the explosion louder than anything you’d ever heard. The floor shakes and crumbles beneath them and his father falls first, pulled down as the ceiling collapses on top of him. He disappears into the smoke with half of the apartment and it feels as though the whole building is coming down around you. 

Pietro’s mother just manages to grab onto the edge of the crater, clutching onto the crumbling concrete as the hole gets bigger, more and more of the floor falling away. 

“Mama!” Pietro screams, scrambling to grab his mother’s hand, bravely trying to keep hold of her. She’s too heavy for him, his feet scraping along the concrete as he slips closer to the edge, "Don’t let go!”

“Pietro, listen to me,” his mother yells back at him,“you have to take care of Wanda now." 

"No, mama, you can’t leave us! I can pull you out!”

"I love you both so much, always keep each other safe.” Her hand slips from his and he screams after her as she falls. Seconds later another bomb hits the building and Pietro grabs Wanda, rolling them both under the bed and covering her body with his. 

The shell crashes through the roof into the rubble, debris hitting Pietro in the back scorching through his clothes and they cough as the smoke settles, both of them staring petrified at the unexploded bomb, STARK glaring back at them. You collapse to your knees, powerless to stop it and the memory resets, Pietro and his family eating dinner again, the apartment untouched.

How long had he been here? Trapped in this memory, forced to live through it over and over again.

“Don’t make me, I can’t watch it again, not again.”

The figure comes into view again and you walk through the family, crouching down in front of Pietro, gently placing your hand on his, “Pietro?" He’s shaking, rocking back and forth, pain radiating from him, "I won’t hurt you.”

“You never came for me,” his eyes finally peer over his arms and up to yours and your belly does somersaults, its him. Lost and afraid but it’s Pietro.

“We didn’t know…” you stroke his cheek, your voice breaking and as he leans into your palm the memory starts to stall behind you, flickering in and out, “I’m so sorry…”

"I waited for you, you and Wanda, you never came, you left me here.”

“I’m here now, I’m going to get you out.” Cautiously you wrap your arms around him, just holding him until you feel him relax against you, clinging onto you. 

“You’re real?” he sighs and you nod, too overcome with emotion to reply, “I missed you printessa.”  

“I missed you too.” You breathe out, and smile at the feel of his lips when they brush against yours, that familiar rush of love when he deepens the kiss.

You can feel the darkness inside him and start to pull at it, prying it away from him. As soon as it feels like its working he pulls away and the memory has stopped nothing but black behind you.

“You have to help me, you have to fight it.” You plead with him, he just shakes his head.

“You’re too late, iubire.”

“No, it was working let me-”

“Y/n there isn’t time, it’s just waiting and you’re doing everything it wants you to.”

“What do you mean? What does it want?” He doesn’t answer, just places a kiss to your forehead.

“It was good to see you one last time, printessa.”

“Wait, no, don’t leave me!” You yell, clutching at him, Pietro pushes you away and you fall back into the darkness, his light fading as you descend back through the tunnel, unable to stop yourself this time. Falling through his memories and back into consciousness again.

Muffled explosions and gunfire burst in your ears as you come around, still kneeling and holding Pietro. Praying when he woke you would see him again. Instead cold black eyes stared back at you and your heart turned to dust. The black of his eyes flickered a second, almost as if he felt your despair curiously staring back at you.

Bucky shoots the glass shattering it and you shield your eyes, Pietro throws you across the room, standing up and smirking at Bucky while he tries to shoot him. Of course Pietro is too fast and throws Bucky aside too, running out of the cell. You both clamber to your feet, meeting Buckys angry glare.

“Hydra are here.” He hisses, throwing you a gun.

“Bucky-”

“Don’t say a goddamn word.” He storms away from you and you run after him, grabbing his arm.

“He was in there it was working!”

“I don’t care!” He roared back with such ferocity you flinch away from him, instinctively raising your gun. You quickly lower it, your fear not going unnoticed and making things worse. 

“You just had to save him right? No matter what? It was stupid and reckless! You went in there for you, y/n, not him and now Hydra’s best weapon is loose in the tower, killing everything in his way.”  

Bucky had never spoken to you like this before, each word was filled with anger and disappointment and for a second hate. What had you done? You’d lost him, for good this time.

You moved to speak and he dismissed you, “don’t bother.” He growled and pushed passed you.

He was right, you were selfish and you played right into Hydra’s hands. 

Part 11