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finelinevogue · 3 years

Note

Can you expand on that topic of Harry buying that island for Y/N to conserve like you touched upon on the 73 questions thing you wrote please?

oooh yes!! i didn’t think this would be something that people would bring up but i’m excited to talk about it!! enjoy;

oli - 4, felix - 3, belle - 3 weeks

“What about this one?”

The same question Anne and Harry had been repeating for the last two hours. Neither Anne or Harry could decide on an island that they both thought you would absolutely love - an island that Harry would buy somewhere new for you to conserve and protect, for future family vacations and eventually potentially even retire to, whenever that day may come.

He had originally thought about purchasing a large plot of land along the coastline of Italy, because it had always captured a special place in Harrys heart. He loved the people, the culture, the weather, the food and he loved you when you’re bathing in the Italian sun. The boot-shaped country was the one in which you and Harry had spent your first holiday together. It was where you’d had your honeymoon. It was where, you’re pretty sure, that Oli was conceived. It held so many precious memories, so you both thought it time to make the country more permanent in your lives and purchase a house over there.

Unfortunately, due to coronavirus, Harry wasn’t able to physically go anywhere and house, or island, hunt - especially with a 3 week old baby. Belle had been born on October 2nd and she was an absolute angel - as happy as can be. Oli and Fix were currently looking after her, whilst Anne and Harry sorted through the mess of trying to organise the gift of a lifetime for you. Luckily you were out with a friend, shopping for baby clothes and a little something for yourself, for the day so Harry could complete his surprise in secret. Harry already held property in Malibu, New York, Japan, London and Manchester. He, until recently, had an apartment in San Fransisco, but he never used it and so the money that he got from selling that was going to be spent buying an island for you.

He always remembers one of the first conversations that he ever had with you and it was about how you wanted to change the world. You’d answered “I think i’d buy my own island and start conserving the planet one bit of land at a time, until I save it all!” Now obviously you were being very optimistic and silly with your dreams, but that’s all you thought they’d be - dreams. Harry was willing to make them a reality though. Okay, perhaps not world domination but he could start small and give you the thing you’d dreamt of even as a little girl.

“Mum—” Harry sighed, knowing he would reject it just like all the other ones she’d picked out for being either, too small, too big, too dangerous, too humanised. He didn’t care about price, he just wanted to get it right. He looked over to her computer, seeing what she’d found and brought up on her screen. “Shit, wait…”

This was it.

“Mhm?” Anne smiled knowingly.

“Give me details.” Harry asked her, pulling over his notepad and pen to jot down key information. He wasn’t planning on buying today, but he was planning on making inquiries so if he thought something needed negotiating then at least he’d have the information to hand.

“Okay, um,” she looked over the screen. Harry had only seen glimpses of the the island from the photos but even now he was fully invested in it, “it’s in Phuket, Thailand. Minimally developed on. 110 acres, but you know…”

“Could lessen due to climate change, yeah.” Harry noted and looked to his mum to see if she was continuing or not.

“They are allowing an income potential so you could build and make profit from it. Then again the island itself is $160 million so it’s going to be 7018 before you even start making a profit.” Anne joked, but Harry sighed. “What, love?”

“$160 million.” Harry pondered, thinking whether this is all worth it. It’s a huge investment and potential waste of money, but it was for you.

“You’re a near billionaire Harry. What else are you going to do with all your money? You could build back half of that money just from releasing a new album with no promotion. Imagine if you released a documentary or something too. You work hard, Harry, and you will continue to, so is it so wrong to treat yourself to something nice?”

“It’s not for me, though.”

“Well then, there’s the question you to need to ask yourself.” Harry looked at his mum quizzically before she responded. “Is Y/N worth it?”

Well that was a stupid question.

“Looks like Y/Ns getting her island after all.” Harry grinned so wide, feeling so happy that he was doing this for you. You deserved this so much. Yes it was a bloody huge investment and risk, if Harry was being honest with himself, but you were ridiculously worth it. So much so that he would have bought the island even if it were double that price. Harry sighed in relief and slouched back on the chair, thinking about how happy you’re going to be when you find out. Obviously there was so much paperwork and calls that needed to be made, so it was going to take some time, but to see your face at the end of this was going to be so worth it.

“Cuppa tea then?” Anne asked, slinking out of the chair and standing up.

“Yeah, go on—” The sounds of rattling keys and the front door opening broke Harry’s sentence, making him look up at his mum in panic. Time had flew by so quickly that he’d not even realised you could’ve actually been home anytime now.

Shit, you were home.

“Quick mum, help me hide all this. Wait mum, you’re going to have to sneak out the back because Y/Ns going to have too many questions otherwise!” Harry shot up from the kitchen table and started to gather bits of paper and close the laptops down. Luckily Harry was using his work laptop and Anne had brought her own so they didn’t have to worry about clearing browser history.

“What and you can’t just say you were hanging out with your ol’ mum?” Anne asked, laughing as she packed up her stuff because she knew just how demanding and stubborn her son was.

“I love you and call me when you get home safely okay?” Harry asked, chivying her out of the back door quietly and pecking her cheeks in thanks for everything she’s done for him today.

“Alright. Love you!”

Okay, act normal Harry.

“Mummy!” You heard Oli shout from the other room. You furrowed your eyebrows as you entered the house, dropping off your shoes and bags at the door before heading into the living room, where you knew you’d find the kids.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, looking around the room to see everything was in order. In fact, your heart melted at the sight of the siblings. Oli was sat upright against the sofa and had his baby sister laying on top of his stomach with hers, and Fix was sat just to the side of them - patting his sisters back rhythmically. It was a sight for sore eyes.

“Baby Belle just smiled.” Oli beamed brightly and you smiled back at him. Even though it was slightly irrelevant of him to shout for you because of this, you couldn’t help but awe over the fact the siblings were so loving for one another.

“Did she now?” You took out your phone to take a few pictures of them. “Smile again for mummy then, all of you.” You giggled as Fix pulled the cheesiest smile and Oli did his signature smile too - no teeth and raised eyebrows so high to the sky. You even caught a golden photo where Belle was slightly smiling too. “Are you okay in here still?”

You didn’t want to feel like you were abandoning your kids, because you would never, but you needed just a day to yourself to rejuvenate and help overcome the post-natal depression slowly. As much as you so very much loved them, it was hard for you sometimes. Belle was going to be sleeping for at least another hour, so you weren’t too worried about her. Oli and Fix were ever so sensible too, simply watching Teen Titans on Cartoon Network whilst they babysat their sister. You were only a shout away if something were to happen, which made you wonder where Harry was.

“Yes mummy.” Fix nodded his head whilst keeping his eyes glued to the TV.

“Everything all right in here?” Harry’s voice came from behind you, but you’r felt his presence a lot sooner before that. He stood behind you, peering into the room to check everything was in order.

God, you’d missed him today.

“Yeah, Oli tell daddy why you called me.”

“Baby Belle smiled daddy!” Oli retold the story just as animatedly as the first time, but keeping as still as he could so not to disturb his sister.

“Did she now? You must’ve made her happy then.” Harry slunk one of his hands around your waist and squeezed the pudge that had situated there. He absolutely loved the way you’d become curvier after giving birth. He said it gave him a bit extra of you to love on, to which you always cried at the words because he never failed to make you feel so beautiful.

“I try daddy.”

“I try too.” Felix added, obviously wanting his dad to know he wasn’t not helping in taking care of Belle.

“Good boys. Proud of you both.” They both smiled after their dads words, “Now you both behave and look after Baby Belle whilst I go make mummy a cup of tea okay?”

“But come back, daddy.” They both replied and you gave them a final warm smile, before making your way to the kitchen to make a warm, milky, beverage.

“Nice day?” Harry asked, following you into the kitchen. His hand was placed lowly on your back and guided you into the room.

“Lovely, thanks. Just missed you all.” You sighed and turned around to kiss him in the middle of the kitchen. Your lips moulded to his perfectly and he tasted so sweet, you probably so sour from your lemonade you’d had earlier.

“Miss you always.” Harry murmured against your lips and then pulled away, not before giving you and extra peck though.

You walked over to the kettle and switched it on, whilst Harry collected the mugs from the cupboard you were too small to reach. He picked out one with the letter H on and one with the letter of your first name on, knowing that you’d drink from each others letters as always.

“Been busy today?” You asked, dropping teabags into the cups and leaning against the counter side as you waited for the kettle to take its’ boil.

“Kinda.” He smirked to himself, trying to dodge that question and any others you might have about the day. “Glad you’re back home though.” He walked to you and cupped the back of your head lightly, guiding your face up to his.

“Thank you for being my home.” You smiled at your cheesy comment and then lead your lips to his again.

“You are a dream, my love.” Harry said, looking deep into the eyes he could fall in love with all over again.

Just as you were about to touch lips with his you heard the wails of your tiny daughter and sighed in sync. You chuckled as you flopped your head onto Harry’s chest. As much as you wanted to stay and soak up all the love he was about to give you, your children were a priority - especially a crying baby.

“Well, your dream will have to wait hun.” You patted his chest before walking out of the room, Harry watching you go before whispering ever-so-carefully under his breath.

“But yours won’t.”

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vampireinterview · 3 years

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It has come to my attention that some of you have not been made aware of the fact that Plato was well known for being a Destiel shipper, in addition to the fact that he also wrote some philosophical works on the side. Let me explain.

Plato was an Athenian thinker whose real name was Aristocles (Plato most likely comes from the Greek word for ‘broad”, he might have been so jacked that people nicknamed him for his wide shoulders, which is irrelevant to the topic at hand but I’m collecting receipts on my hypothesis that all hellers are physical beheamoths). His work regarding the philosophy of love can be interpreted through the lens of the Deancas love story, which can potentially lead us to discover the very essence of what makes Destiel so impactful and universal, so bear with me, I’ll make it as introductory as possible.

Plato’s Symposium is a dialogue which contains the philosopher’s basic view on what love can be. The influence of the aforementioned text has been so strong that even those of us who are blissfully unaware of its contents have heard of the concept of “platonic love”. It is with great disappointment that I have to inform you about the fact that the way in which the term is colloquially used can be considered quite removed from the core idea of what Plato’s love is supposed to be about. Commonly people utilize it to refer to a non-romantic and non-sexual emotion towards an individual. However, even though the extrasensory love was the end goal, it was never too far distanced from the earthly, carnal desire that was supposed to lay the foundation for greater experiences.

One of the most illustrative elements of the Symposium is no doubt the Love Ladder metaphor (also known as Diotima’s Ladder of Love, the Scala Amoris); Plato believes the act of loving to be a part of the process of initiation into the non-material world of ideas. Every step of the ladder helps one approach the transcendence of one’s soul, and so we can single out six steps to immortal absolutes:

1. The first step is developing an appreciation for a particular person. It’s a very much carnal (though not necessarily conventionally sexual) desire for beauty of a specific individual. According to Plato only through the love of the physical can one love the non material. The visceral infatuation with another’s body is often strongly rooted with the self-hatred of one’s own aesthetical poverty: within the carnal love we seek to find that which our own body lacks. The desire between Dean and Cas doesn’t have to be seen as strictly sexual, as the appreciation of beauty does not warrant a conventionally erotic subtext. This sort of fascination with the flesh is most noticeably highlighted in the many “eye sex” scenes in seasons 4-5, and is later brought up by Hester:

The very touch of you corrupts. When Castiel first laid a hand on you in Hell, he was lost.

2. The second step stems from the appreciation for all physicality derived directly from the love one has for the lover’s form. It’s fleshed out any time Dean finds beauty in the dark times, where he would have never found it before or when Cas sees humanity through the lens of the love he has for the beauty within Dean Winchester. This step is all about finding the allure in everybody, not in spite of but rather because of having fallen for a specific person’s material form.

3. The next step is a love which transcends the physical and teaches an individual to feel affection towards the souls. The attraction one can experience in relation to that which is non material is precisely what takes the function of the driving force behind both Castiel’s and Dean’s decisions in season 6 and onward (arguably even much earlier for Cas? or even Dean? Maybe we’re talking about season 4?). As evidenced by the apparent lack of attraction Dean experiences towards Jimmy himself, he must have already moved on to this stage (the Cas he loves is not just the vessel he inhabits). Castiel on the other hand feels heavily infatueted with Dean’s spiritual allure (even when he’s physically on the verge of a breakdown, he’s still beautiful, still Dean Winchester).

4. It is only then that one can find love for the institution. If one worships souls, then one also has to worship the product of those souls: and, sure enough, loving humanity led Castiel to love its structures and ethical systems and be willing to die fighting for them. In the later seasons he exhibits fascination over all the little rules that guide an average human’s life (which is especially fleshed out in his season 7 dialogues, where he contemplates all the small details of the societal structure, ie: how important is lipstick to you?, maybe the human institutions should ban its production). Same can be said of Dean: the customs and traditions of other people are subject to his affectionate protection in the later seasons, which sets s6 and onwards Dean apart from the early seasons Dean who cared mostly about his blood relatives. The found family arc was for him a process of growing attached to the order of life which was previously foreign to him, and him learning to navigate functioning within a big family structure and an organization (the last one is physically manifested by his move from a chaotic life spent at random motels to living at the bunker, property of the institution of Men Of Letters).

5. Then comes the deep appreciation of knowledge. Now, it is widely disputed whether what Plato meant should be strictly narrowed down to just one kind of knowledge (in many English translations you might encounter the word ‘science’, though used in the ancient sense). The process of gaining knowledge is often equated with the understanding of ideas in Plato’s work, therefore we’re going to stick with that. The act of loving the process of discovering both the external and the internal world is a strong factor which pushes Dean to self examination, or the examination of the inner psyche. It is that pursuit of knowledge that is the very coronation of his entire character arc: the realization of his role within the story (”I’m not the ultimate killer”) which was directly derived from the act of loving Cas.

6. The final stage of platonic love is reaching the love of the very concept of Love. Once again, interpretations vary, but for the sake of the argument, I’ll clarify that: the discussed kind of love transcends both the body and the soul. An individual is in love with Beauty, not just one of it’s physical or spiritual manifestations. In my opinion, this stage is extremely well depicted during the 15x18 confession scene, for it is a kind of love achieved by Castiel. He is no longer just in love with the body or soul of Dean, he’s also in love with the sole idea of loving him. He quite literally states that he’s fallen in love with the idea of just being, just saying it, just falling in love.

Upon achieving this state, he transcends his material conditions both by leaving the human world (his move to another dimension - the Empty - could be just an illustrative manifestation of the transcendental move of his essence) and giving birth to a new world order. The way in which he later on goes to rebuild Heaven and give birth to a completely new, structure of the universe is in line with a concept that Plato ties into the finale step of the Ladder - pregnancy of the soul. At one point in Symposium he describes Diotima saying that:

That in that life alone, when he looks at Beauty in the only way that Beauty can be seen--only then will it become possible for him to give birth not to images or virtue (Because he’s in touch with no images), but to true virtue (Because he is in touch with the true Beauty).

What is the christian equivalent and personification of the true idea of Virtue if not the abstract concept of Heaven? The moment Cas creates a new portrayal of Virtue he finishes the Ladder. It could also be argued that the true pregnancy of the soul was actually finished when Jack ascended to the status of God: an entity which belongs to the realm of ideas and is perfect by its very nature is birthed through Castiel’s love (which can be traced back to the feelings he has for Dean Winchester).

And it is the fact that Dean’s arc got stuck on the fifth stage of the Ladder that causes me so much pain. He dies before transcending and experiencing the non-temporal and non-relative feeling of love that one can gain only through the admiration of beauty itself. His life was cut short and his soul has already left the mortal, physical world, therefore he is forever unable to experience the feeling of loving Love and Virtue so much that his soul gives birth to an unbreakable idea.

In conclusion: if you ever see somebody say that Dean and Castiel’s relationship is platonic, just agree. It is very much so platonic in the sense that through their carnal and spiritual desires they’ve manged to (nearly, in Dean’s case) transcend their material conditions and reached the divine aspect of ideal Beauty and Virtue, rooted in a love that’s so deep that it’s perfectly able to redefine the structure of one’s existence.

tagging some people who have vaguely expressed interest in acquiring the third eye:

@cryptcas @futureheadnerd @doctorprofessorsong @sinnabonka @theangelwiththewormstache @absoluteheller @fivefeetfangirl

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whitexwingedxdoves · 3 years

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goodbye

Pairing: Implied Daryl Dixon x Reader Warnings: suicide attempt. Song: Listen before I Go – Billie Eilish Summary: the gang couldn’t find you until Daryl finds a note on your dressing table. A/N: this is kinda depressing, i’m sorry but inspo struck. Im still working on the requests this was just one I wrote before hand.

“Have ya seen Y/N?” Daryl shouted into the main room, he watched as Rosita and Eugene shook their heads, his heart sinking further the longer you remained absent. He continued to question everyone he came across until he made it to your room, his breathing unsteady and his movement becoming sloppy and heavy. His eyes started to gloss over as he saw how neat your room appeared. The seats tucked in perfectly, the draws actually completely closed and not a single item of clothing on the floor. It was so out of character for you to actually care about the appearance of the room, Daryl knew that… Daryl thought he knew you pretty well, that was until recently. He noticed how closed off you had become since he escaped the sanctuary, how nervous you got at every sound. How you kept yourself tucked in your room all day.

His eyes finally settled on a folded sheet of paper, placed so perfectly on your dressing table, the words ‘Daryl’ written on the top. His fingers traced the lettering, his heart beating faster than it had ever beaten. His thoughts raced, had you ran away? Did you not love him anymore? Though nothing could prepare him for what the note said:

Dear Daryl,

My sweet Daryl, please don’t try to find me.

I’m sorry I don’t know how to keep going it feels like there’s no way out of this endless cycle of death. I can't bare to lose you again. Call me selfish, call me a coward… but I'd rather be all those things than without you in this world.

I love you

Love, Y/N.

p.s – tell my friends that I love them but i’m not sorry.

His hand clutched a hold of the paper, causing it to rip in some parts. Tears pouring down his dirty cheeks, leaving clean marks from his eyes to his chin. He threw the once perfectly smooth paper across the room before he went on searching for you, only now calling out your name. Somewhere along the way he managed to gather a crowd of people looking for you.

[Y/N POV]

You sat on the rooftop of the tallest building in Alexandria. Breathing in the cool air, watching the people below you do their chores. It made you smile slightly, reminding you that life really does go on despite whatever hell was happening. You watched your world, it was perfect but it only made your decision much more set in stone. You couldn’t watch this place burn, you couldn’t watch the people you held so dear to your heart, die. Not anymore. Just one small sacrifice and the suffering would be over, for you at least. You closed your eyes, allowing the breeze to hit your skin, taking every bit of life you possibly could right now. Your eyes shot open at the sound of a walkie buzzing.

“I’ve found her” you recognised that voice anywhere.

You allowed your body to shift slightly, to look back at Michonne. You sent her a sad smile before looking down at your feet. You could hear how cautious she was trying to get closer, like you were a bomb that could go off at any moment. “What are you doing up here Y/N” her voice was shaky, finally sitting beside you though she seemed stiff. You didn’t reply, how could you. You just stared down at the gun that laid on your lap. Only now could you feel the weight of what your decision might hold, who you’d be leaving behind… what it would do to them. Though you weren't sure it was enough to stop you. You felt her hand slowly sit on top of yours, probably some attempt to stop you from reaching for the gun so quickly. “You know –“ she started to speak but you had to cut her off, stop her attempts to say the same bullshit you’ve heard a thousand times.

“Don’t say I matter, don’t tell me about how love can get you through anything, like its endless. Just leave me alone” you snapped in her direction, your voice breaking slightly. She swallowed a lump in her throat, taken back by her words.

“Im sor-“

“Sorry wont save me, it won't save Glenn, it won't save Abraham…” you couldn’t go on listing everyone you had lost. The tears streamed down your face, yet you seemed emotionless. You couldn’t shake the scattered feeling anymore, there was no saving you, no fixing you despite what everyone thought. This is for the best, you kept telling yourself. You reached for the gun but as expected Michonne threw it off the roof, like it was a stone before you could even escape her grasp. She tried to grab you, she tried to just hold you but you wouldn’t stay put.

On the ground below, people started to gather, you heard them shout your name, in particular you heard Daryl’s voice… You stared at Michonne for a moment, your tears coming to a slow end, You placed your hands over hers that seemed to grip onto your arms as hard as she possibly could.

“I'm sorry” you whispered before forcefully pushing her hands away, forcing you to tumble off the roof.

You heard the gasps, you heard the screams but you felt peaceful, the sensation of the wind hitting your back so gracefully almost made it feel like you had already reached heaven. You closed your eyes, accepting your fate.

Your eyes started to blink open, all you could see was white at first, you were sure you had woken in the afterlife and a faint smile graced your features. You tried to sit up but the sudden sensation of pain sent like electricity up your spine. Your eyes are finally adjusting to the light. Your heart dropped, you weren't in heaven, no. You sat in the infirmary of Alexandria. You failed. You couldn’t stop the tears as they cascaded down your cheeks, whimpering a little. You heard the door swing open and with it came Daryl running to your side. You couldn’t make eye contact with him, not now… not after what you just did.

You remained quiet as people started to surround your bed, the doctor checking your vitals. Rosita crying asking if you were okay… Daryl just squeezed your hand so hard you could have sworn it was turning a light shade of blue. The overwhelming feeling of guilt flushing through your body. They had lost just as much as you, yet you were willing to make them lose more because you couldn’t deal with the loss.

It wasn’t long until the doctor ordered everyone to leave, claiming you needed rest. Of course Daryl refused, he stayed there… your hand almost becoming a permanent part of his. Once you were alone with him, you dared your eyes to meet him for the first time. You couldn’t speak, your words seemed irrelevant now. You managed to choke out the words Im sorry. He didn’t accept your apology. He just shook his head, his tears now making an appearance. You could almost see the anger in each one of the droplets that left his eyes.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction

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a-libra-writes · 3 years

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hello, i am here! Stannis with the prompt: a diary where you can communicate with your soulmate, please. it can be hc's or scenario; however you choose to quench my thirst for him, I will be grateful.

hi molly, thank u for giving me such a treat!!! bc this was my first prompt and it... uh ....................

really got away from me

(LOTS OF ANGST BUT ITLL BE OK I PROMISE MAYBE)

The first thing he felt about it was annoyance. The six year old second son of Lord Baratheon looked down and saw that someone had doodled all over his book. He figured it was Robert, though he'd never seen a quill in his brother's hand unless it was being forced by the maester. He set the leather bound book in front of his mother expectantly, silently waiting for an explanation. When she looked at it and gave him a curious glance, he finally spoke.

"Robert's been drawing in it," Stannis said. He placed it right on top of her embroidery so she'd see. Lady Cassana wasn't bothered, rather, she was curious. She picked up the book and flipped through the pages.

"Did you see him do it, sweetling?"

"No." The lack of evidence didn't deter him - no, this was evidence enough. He didn't understand what his mother was so amused about.

Lady Cassana stopped on one of the pages. She smiled at the messy drawing of what was probably a cat catching a mouse. Under that was a tidy little castle with a series of smiling figures. "I don't think it's your brother, Stannis."

Stannis frowned, ready to argue that fact, but she asked, "Do you know what a soulmate is, sweetling?"

“No.”

“It’s a special person that only you can speak with this way,” She touched the book. “It's a special thing, I did it when I was your age. It’s the will of the gods, my love. You should write something back."

He hesitated. “Do I… have to?”

“Not if you don’t want to. But perhaps say hello, give it a try.” Lady Cassana said. She was smiling broadly now. “Enjoy it while you can.”

"What if they're not literate?"

Maester Cressen looked up from his papers, surprised the usually quiet boy was speaking during lessons. Stannis repeated, “What if my… soul mate doesn’t know their letters? You said the smallfolk don't."

The Maester stood and walked over to the leather book. Two years later, and it still looked in good condition. Stannis took care of this things, especially this. As usual the page was covered in whimsical drawings.

“Have you tried to write to them, my lord?”

“Not yet.” Stannis was furrowing his brow already, wanting his questions answered. “What happens if one soul mate can’t write, but the other can? What if both can't?"

“My lord, there's no need to worry about things that are irrelevant to you.”

“What do the smallfolk do?” Stannis pressed on. “Draw pictures like this? How do they find each other? How do they know what the other person looks like?"

Maester Cressen was already turning back to his papers. “Soulmates don’t always find each other, my lord, nor should they expect to.”

“Why not?”

“Distance, lack of communication, familial duties.” The maester said dismissively. “If you’ll return to your lessons—”

“I finished. What’s the point of soulmates if they can never meet?"

Maester Cressen sighed. There was no escaping this anytime soon, he feared. “It’s the will of the gods, my lord, and a great mystery we maesters have studied for centuries. It’s best not to think much of it, however. Draw or write back in the book, if you wish, but do not spend too much time with it. It’s best not to get expectations of someone you will likely never meet.”

Stannis looked down at the book, startled by a new drawing already appearing. He couldn’t see them being made, only when they were finished. It was a school of fish, or maybe a flock of birds. Wouldn’t it be simple to ask where this person lived, and go see them? What was the point of all this if he was just meant to ignore it? He wanted to ignore it, but this mysterious person kept drawing all over his notes and it was distracting.

“Mother said it’s 'the will of the gods', too. Does that mean it’s bad to ignore it?”

The maester stood up and closed the leather book. He replaced it with a chart of various colorful coat of arms and a map. “I daresay it’s time to move on to the next lesson."

It took him a few days, but the lordling decided to write in the book. Stannis wasn't much of an artist, so Hello seemed like a good start. He was relieved when there was a simple ‘hello!’ written back within a few minutes, and later, a scribbly flower with a long stalk underneath. Seeing the words form on their own so quickly, and in response to him, unnerved Stannis. He closed the book and tried not to think about it the rest of the day.

He checked a week later, where more drawings were present, with more words: whats your nam?

He wrote back, Name has an 'e'.

And before his eyes, a minute later, there was a name… and a house, and a title. Caspian.

She was a highborn lady? Stannis looked at the page, not sure what to think about it. It’d be alright to write to a lady, wouldn’t it? Maester Cressen was the one worried about this soulmate business. Perhaps it was because a lord and peasant couldn’t be together? Stannis knew that rule already. He knew the decorum and niceties his parents rehearsed him through, even at his young age. He walked to the library to find a map, and in the time he finally located it and rolled it out, there was more on the page.

A drawing of something weird and arrow-shaped. this is our sigil. its a manta ray.

Stannis had never seen one, but he had a sense that wasn’t what they looked like. He tried looking through the map, but words kept appearing.

whats your nam where are you from? ?? are you a boy or girl do you like horses ? I like swiming and horses! im good at it

He considered closing the book again, rolling up the map, going back to whatever he was doing before. If there was no point, then why bother with this? ... Then again, he’d have to go back to the training yard, and Robert was there swinging around a huge wooden sword.

Stannis frowned, deciding this was the less annoying (and painful) activity for now. He found an ink pot and quill, held it tightly and wrote in a fine penmanship—

My name is Stannis Baratheon.

The last part smudged, and it didn’t look exactly how his father signed it, but it was his best. The response wasn’t immediate, and he quickly saw why. A drawing of a stag appeared on the paper before the words did.

Its good to meat you! lets be friends

Friends? Friends. He thought about it. Stannis didn’t have friends, just brothers. He didn’t think he needed any. This didn’t have to be so bad, though, he could try. If it was too tiresome, or too... strange, he could stop. Maester Cressen wanted him to stop, anyhow, and his mother said he didn't have to.

It’s spelled ‘meet’. We can be friends.

Lady Cassana patted his mess of black hair, and Stannis didn’t flinch away this time. Instead, he asked, “Were you and father soulmates?”

“No,” She answered honestly. She was always honest, and he liked that. His father joked too much. “Do you remember what I told you about duty? Sometimes we have to set aside our hearts to best serve our realm. Sometimes we have to set aside this.”

She gave the leather book back to him. Maester Cressen had taken it, and he was determined to accept the punishment, but it bothered him more than he wanted to say. He was grateful his mother returned it, though he was struggling to meet her eyes. His ears were still red from embarrassment, but she wasn’t upset, or teasing, or scolding.

“It hurt me to set my own down, but I knew it wasn’t meant to be. Your father had one that he never wrote to. The idea of having it and setting it aside was too much for him. And yet, we love each other very much, and we love our sons.” Lady Cassana stopped touching his hair when he finally squirmed away. Stannis ran his fingers along the leather spine and the uneven parchment bound inside the book.

When he took a long time to answer, she spoke softly. “It’s your decision, Stannis.”

That night, he wrote in the book, asking what she’d do when they grew up. When she'd stop writing. The response was instant. There was a drawing of a sad girl next to her words.

your my friend! i like writing to you. do you want to stop?

I don’t. Stannis decided, and that was it.

The talks still came, though. It happened before, several times, and here it was again. It didn’t matter that he stopped bringing the book to his lessons, or that he only wrote in the privacy of his room. Maester Cressen always seemed to know.

“It’s for your own good that you begin to set it aside, Stannis,” The old man said. He always seemed old, but when he was scolding it was especially so.

Stannis wasn’t one to talk back, but he still struggled to hide his scowl. This wasn’t the first time the maester made him set his jaw and tense it up. It wasn’t his business. She never discouraged it, so he didn’t understand why Maester Cressen had to.

“It’s not inappropriate,” He said. “She’s a lady. I never write improperly, it's like sending letters."

“Sending a strange lady letters is inappropriate,” The Maester sighed. “Especially without the knowledge of her family. What would they say?"

“She could tell them at anytime."

“Do you tell your lord father and lady mother all that you write, then?”

Stannis gritted his teeth and turned away. At ten and three, Stannis could already see over the old man’s head, and he didn't feel like a child, so he didn't appreciate being talked to like one. “You don’t speak to Robert about these matters.”

“Robert is at the Eyrie, no doubt being told the same by Lord Arryn. Stannis, do you understand why I say these things? Do you understand the trouble it could cause you, and worse, her?”

Maester Cressen often referred to ‘her’, or the girl, even if she was just as grown as Stannis. He didn't ask her identity, and Stannis didn't give it. He hated having to hear this conversation again. Of all the trouble Robert was already causing in the Eyrie — he saw those letters, it was his duty to attend to them while his parents were at sea — Stannis felt like his own actions were hardly important. There would be weeks where he couldn’t write to her at all, or she was busy as well. If anyone tried to read what they wrote, gods forbid, it was mostly idle talk and drawings.

Lots and lots of drawings, she still had that habit. She was getting very good at them. Stannis brought his mind back to the present. “I understand.” He said, in a tone that made it clear he didn’t actually intend to stop.

Case in point, he pulled out the worn leather book that evening. It was the second, or maybe the third one. If she didn’t draw so much they’d have more room, but sometimes Stannis wrote a lot, too. She made it easy to do that. It was alright if she didn’t answer right away, or if at all. It was good to just write it.

He frowned as he moved to the most recent page. It was a short, curt sentences, which wasn’t like her. There were no pictures.

My cousin died this morning. We were riding together, and she fell from her horse. I couldn’t help her. No one blames me, but I feel terrible. I’ve been crying all day. I’m going to the Godswood tonight to pray for forgiveness. I might be quiet. I'm sorry.

‘I might be quiet’. ‘I might not write tonight.’ ‘I’ll write to you tomorrow’. ‘I’ll tell you about it when I can’. Those were phrases the two of them were used to. It was expectant. They may not write every day, or every week, but eventually they will.

Take the time you need. I’ll be here for you.

It made his chest hurt to write that, but he knew it was the right thing. It’s what she would always say to him, and without fail, he’d eventually come around and tell her. She was the only one he really told… anything. He wondered if the same was true for her. She mentioned visiting ladies now and again, a knight’s daughter she played with, and… this cousin.

He kept the book beside him the rest of the evening, knowing she likely wouldn’t respond. By the time she did, the earlier conversation with the maester had left his mind.

The longest they’d gone without writing was during the following year. It took months before he could pick the book up again, even look at it. It was months using all the willpower he had to get out of bed and carry on. There was Renly to look after, and Storm’s End to attend to, and the duties that Robert neglected when he returned to the Eyrie. He should have stayed, but he didn’t. So Stannis took care of it. He did what was right.

When he was finally able to pick up the book, when the choking pain keeping him up at night had dulled to just a constant ache that allowed sleep now and again, he hesitated.

The latest page was inquiries of how he was, where he was. There was a variety of pictures, black and some colors she’d managed to get ahold of. Her manta rays looked like proper rays, and so did the stags she had become so fond of. She drew some ships she’d seen in the harbor, a cat that liked to hide away in her bedroom. Then the pictures stopped.

My father told me what happened. Stannis, I’m here. You can write to me, whenever you can. I’ll always be here.

It hurt again. He closed the book, listened to the fire flickering loudly in the hearth in his room. It was becoming stuffy, but he didn’t want to open a window. He could hear the waves and the crashes against the rock from his window, and that would lead to the sounds of broken wood and screams in his sleep.

He moved closer to the fire, away from those sounds. Flipping through the old book’s pages, looking at the art and some of the sillier things she wrote. Apparently when he’d make her laugh, she’d screw up some letters. She told him as much. When he corrected any spelling, she liked to make the same mistake and circle it. She liked to draw little figures that were supposed to be them, but it was awful on purpose, and they were usually doing something ridiculous like riding a dragon.

Looking back on those gave him the strength to flip to the newest page. He stared at it, wondering if he should stop. He was acting Lord of Storm’s End. Wasn’t his duty even more important than this, and wasn’t her reputation in danger? ‘Willed by the gods’, they said, but he no longer believed in those. What gods would smash his parents and their great ship against the rocks of their own castle? The same stupid gods that would create this... this connection in a world where it would inevitably be severed.

He gritted his teeth, feeling the pain shoot up across his jaw and straight to his head, where a headache would start. The fire was right there. It would be easy to …

His hands moved on their own. The words were sloppy and left heavy ink blotches on the paper. I’m here.

I am too. I missed you.

The response was near instantaneous. Perhaps if she waited, he could’ve done it. He could’ve burned it, if she hadn’t wrote that. Maybe it didn’t matter what she’d say. The sudden longing and loneliness hit him all at once, but it was easy to respond.

I won’t do it again. Being gone for this long.

A pause, a heartbeat, and a tensing of his jaw that made his head ache again. He added in an anxious scrawl, I missed you too.

It was another sleepless night, but for once, it wasn’t because of the nightmares and the crashing waves. The sun came up as he wrote in the margins of the last page, promising to find a new book.

There was modest wooden box he kept them in, hidden under his bed. He was good at hiding it now. No one had bothered mentioning Stannis’ old habit anymore, assuming he’d grown out of it. He’d dated all of them to the best of his knowledge, though he rarely went back to read them. He used to, but that simple act flustered him horribly. They were still in good condition, except for one that had been partially chewed by a hunting hound. The one time he was careless.

The hound was no longer around, and he regretted that. He liked dogs. He liked that one, upset as he was when she chewed the diary years ago. She was still a good, loyal dog. He had to butcher her with the rest.

Stannis tried to remember when they ate the dogs. Thinking was a slow, laborious process now. He had to sit down to do it, and getting up was even worse. He stayed standing as long as possible, afraid of what would happen if he stopped. He couldn’t stop, not while his men needed him, and Renly, and Robert.

He moved slowly. It was hard to tell if it was to conserve energy or if he simply had no energy left. Stannis carefully unwrapped the small leather strap that kept the diary bound and closed. His shaking hands struggled to grasp the paper and turn the pages, but he managed. It was the writing that was the hardest. At least there was plenty of paper and ink, only because no one could eat it.

When he looked at the page again, the lighting was different. The candle was lower than before. He’d dropped his quill on the floor — no, he was on the floor, leaning against the cool stone. Stannis didn’t remember falling. He wasn’t sure if he passed out, or fell asleep. Again he turned to the proper page and picked up the quill. He tried to write before he remembered he needed ink. The ink dragged across the page as he wrote languidly, Are you there

The question mark was more of an ugly splotch that spread across the paper.

Yes, always.

Her family supported the rebellion, being sworn to Eddard Stark, and outraged at what the Mad King had done to his father and brother. Stannis told himself it made writing easier, not that he’d ever give her any information that could endanger her. Early on, they didn’t speak of it. Especially now, he couldn’t. He couldn’t…

He couldn’t… think. Stannis struggled for words. He mentioned what day it was, how many men he had left. A log that helped keep him grounded, something he hated to subject her to, but he needed the clarity. Sometimes she corrected him on the day, and that startled him. As he finished his short report, his hand trembled, and he dropped the quill again. Stannis exhaled, forcing the air through his lungs, then struggled to breath in again.

Not for the first time, he wondered if this was dying.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed before he looked at the page again. She wrote a lot, and he couldn’t remember when it was there.

When you make it through this disgusting siege — and you will make it, Stannis — I’ll be there. I swear it, I’ll sail down to Storm’s End with my family’s ships. I don’t care anymore. I want to be there.

She’d said as much before, when this started. Stannis discouraged her. He didn’t have the strength for that anymore. Instead, he fought to keep his eyes open, fought to think about it, difficult as thinking was. Thinking of their meeting used to be a surefire way of a day full of anxious thoughts, but now it was… grounding. He couldn’t see the end of the rebellion, or the end of this siege. He just had to endure it. That’s what Robert said: Endure it, brother. Hold it for me.

But he could see her, in his thoughts. He could try. Some years ago, she asked what he looked like, and he responded as such: Blue eyes, black hair, like his father and brothers. Asking the same of her felt… strange. She didn’t answer right away, so he panicked. He said she didn’t have to do such a thing. It was inappropriate. She told him to wait, which he thought was odd.

Several hours later, she took up nearly a whole page with a ‘messy’ self-portrait: her words, not his. It was only a bust, but it still transfixed him. It was clear from the drawing she had looked in a mirror, and it was messy, and it was surrounded by words describing her hair color and her favorite dress and her eyes. Stannis couldn’t look at the page for days after that. He’d break out in a sweat just thinking about it.

It was comforting to think about the old picture now. Maybe 'comforting' wasn’t the right word, but she was the one who was good with words, and pictures, and little fantasies like this. She liked to write about what they could do if they met.

Maybe he took too long to respond again. She had written more. We’ll meet and you’ll show me the drum walls around Storm’s End. You promised. I’ll bring my best paintings, I made one for you. I don’t care if it’s allowed or not, it’s a gift. I want to see you so badly it hurts.

Stannis touched the letters. He was startled by how his pale hands seemed to blend into the parchment. He didn’t recognize the knuckles sticking out. He wondered what she sounded like, and how she laughed. He didn’t think he could manage it now. Stannis glanced around for the quill, dipped it into ink with a great deal of effort, and slowly slid it across the paper. He stopped abruptly, ruining the words.

You’re the strongest, most noble man I know. You will make it through this and the rebellion will end, and I’ll be with you. I swear it before the old gods and new.

The ink seeped into the paper, the quill trembled in his hand as he tried to hold it properly. He was dying, he decided. Only dying men ate disgusting leather they tried to boil into water and infected rats. Even the latter was becoming scarce. He scrawled a response, struggling to pull the words together.

I miss you.

I miss you too, Stannis.

#tihs is so self indulgent kfskfks #pls dont expect the other prompts to be this long haha i just went kinda nuts!!#stannis baratheon x reader #libra fics #libra minis

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Note

I really love reading your fics! You capture a variety of tones so well! How about a scenario where instead of Nie Mingjue witnessing Meng Yao murder the Nie Captain, it's Huaisang who sees him instead?

“You just killed him,” Nie Huaisang said dumbly.

He’d pestered his brother into allowing him to come to Langya, arguing at length that it wasn’t as though he would be involved in the actual battle and, somewhat more convincingly, that there was no way the battle was actually anywhere near that bad, given that Jin Guangshan was still sticking around.

(Nie Mingjue had involuntarily snorted a laugh, and that’s how Nie Huaisang had known he’d won.)

When the battle was done, they’d gone looking for Meng Yao together – his brother had been positively seething at how Jin Guangshan pretended he had never received his letter of recommendation, mumbling threats under his breath – and eventually Nie Mingjue had consented to allow Nie Huaisang to go one way while he went another.

Nie Huaisang had found Meng Yao first.

He was starting to wish he hadn’t.

“Nie-gongzi?” Meng Yao asked, his eyes going wide. “What are you –”

“You just kill that man,” Nie Huaisang stressed. “You just stabbed him! Why did you stab him? He’s wearing a peony – isn’t he a Jin sect cultivator? Or – did he do something? Was he a traitor? A spy? Was he doing something bad?”

Meng Yao’s face was a kaleidoscope of emotions that, unfortunately for him, Nie Huaisang had learned to read ages ago. “Yes,” he said, which meant no.

“Why did you stab him with a Wen sword?” Nie Huaisang asked. “Did he attack you and make you drop yours? Did you have to grab the first one you saw?”

“…yes,” Meng Yao said, which, again, meant no.

“Did you just commit premeditated murder on someone on your own side because you didn’t like him?”

Meng Yao viscerally twitched and said, “Definitely not,” which meant definitely yes.

“Wow,” Nie Huaisang said, then shook his head and sat himself down on a fallen tree nearby. “You’re really lucky I’m the one who found you. Da-ge would have lost his mind.”

“Nie Huaisang,” Meng Yao said, and he looked like he had a headache. “Why are you here? And…why are you here?”

“Da-ge wanted to see how you were doing,” Nie Huaisang said. “He misses you.”

Meng Yao winced – not that anyone would ever notice, it being more of a vein twitching in his forehead than anything else – and Nie Huaisang shook his head again.

“Do you like him?” he asked, pulling up one knee and resting his chin on it. Completely classless, but Meng Yao won’t say anything. “My brother, that is. Or was he just useful to you? Tell the truth, please; you have no idea which answer I want to hear.”

Meng Yao took a step forward, and Nie Huaisang pointed his fan at him. “Ah-ah, no. Put the sword down first, please. Don’t forget, my da-ge’s in screaming distance; all I need to do is dodge for long enough to let him arrive, and I’ll have you know that I’ve gotten quite decent at dodging.”

“I wouldn’t hurt you,” Meng Yao said, looking injured, and it would be funny if Nie Huaisang wasn’t now completely convinced that Meng Yao was a stone-cold killer incapable of remorse. He was a Nie – he’d met plenty of people like that.

Usually right before they were executed, but still.

“My brother,” Nie Huaisang reminded him. “I’d like an answer.”

“Do I get to find out what happens depending on the answer I give?”

The sad thing was, Nie Huaisang really liked Meng Yao. “It’s about the same in the end, really. I’m just curious.”

Meng Yao frowned. “You don’t care?”

Nie Huaisang thought about it for a second. “I mean, a bit? I’d like you to like him. He likes you, and he doesn’t like a lot of people. I suppose it’d be better for you if you liked him.”

“Better for me?”

“Isn’t it always better to enjoy the work you have to do?” Nie Huaisang grinned. “My brother’s a straightforward person, Meng Yao. If you treat him well, the way you always have, he’ll continue to like you, and he’ll be happy. And then we’ll make you Sect Leader Jin, and you’ll be happy too – that is what you want, isn’t it? To make them have to all look up to you?”

Meng Yao was staring at him. He didn’t say no, which meant Nie Huaisang was right.

He liked being right. It happened so rarely!

He stretched out his legs and took out his fan. “Da-ge’s never liked Jin Guangshan,” he said conversationally. “And Jin Zixuan’s a stupid bully. All those boring discussions conferences would be quite nice for da-ge, if you were Sect Leader Jin and Xichen-ge was Sect Leader Lan…and there’s Jiang-xiong, da-ge likes him, too. It’ll work out great!”

“My father hasn’t even seen me,” Meng Yao said blankly.

Nie Huaisang waved that away as irrelevant. “You’re really clever, Meng Yao, but you’re so short-sighted sometimes. Even if you managed to get his attention, so what? Lanling doesn’t reward merit, it rewards connections; without a backer, he’ll treat you as nothing more than a glorified servant. Greeting people at the door your whole life, getting called a bastard and a whore’s son behind your back, everyone wondering why you even bothered.”

“And I take it you have a better option for me?” Meng Yao said, and this time he did put down the sword, walking over to sit next to Nie Huaisang. It was just like the good old days back when Meng Yao was still his brother’s deputy.

“After this war ends, da-ge’s going to be a war hero,” Nie Huaisang said, smiling happily. He’d never once doubted that his brother would win the war – it was nice not having to suffer doubt the way other people did. “While the Jin sect won’t have any merits, just money, and money only gets you so far. The first time there’s some sort of disaster, there’ll be a fight over principles, and my da-ge doesn’t lose those fights – not against someone like Jin Guangshan, anyway! He’ll grind the Jin sect’s face into the dirt without even realizing that that’s what he’s doing. And once my Nie sect is properly ascendant, it’ll be easy to get involved in other people’s family business.”

“Your brother would never agree to take the Wen sect’s place as the sun in the sky.”

Nie Huaisang patted Meng Yao on the shoulder. “I wasn’t really thinking that we’d tell him.” He grinned and raised his voice. “Hey, da-ge! I found him!”

“About time, too,” Nie Mingjue snapped in return, striding over with a scowl in his face. “Meng Yao, there you are. Stand up and let me look at you – these robes aren’t even the right size. Have they been bullying you here?”

Meng Yao allowed himself to be hauled up and the dust of battle brushed off his shoulders. After a moment, he smiled. “It’s fine, Sect Leader Nie. If it’d gotten really intolerable, I would’ve written to you.”

“You’d better have,” Nie Mingjue said with a huff. “Now tell me – any chance you still have that letter I wrote you? I plan to make Jin Guangshan eat it. We’ll see how long he keeps that thick face of his when he see what happens the next time he wants to have me run over here to win his battles for him…!”

“Da-ge, you can’t make him eat the letter,” Nie Huaisang said. “You wrote it on the good paper; it’d be such a waste. Give it to me, I’ll make a painting out of it. Oooh, or a fan! That way I can be especially obnoxious at every discussion conference from now until the end of time!”

#mdzs #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #meng yao #jin guangyao #my fic #my fics #two sociopaths walk into a bar at the same time #and one said you get ahead #and the other says I don't have a head but gimme five minutes #Anonymous

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donkey-hyuck · 3 years

Text

word count- 2.5k+

genre- FLUFFY | neighbor!au

characters/pairings- neighbor!jeno x reader (gender neutral) | dreamies

warnings- language | dialogue heavy | over usage of words bc i’m irrelevant | the cutest people ever

introduction- since moving to the city— closer to your university— you noticed that your cat had taken an interest in another cat from the apartment building across from yours. she seemed very intrigued and things only escalated. in a good way for the both of you. because who knew such a good looking guy owned three cats he was allergic to?

a/n- based on some ‘the dodo’ story i saw a couple months ago and it was so cute hehe. also yes this is another jeno drabble thingy okay. and idk where the divider is from, i just have it on my phone sorry :(

the last box you had packed prior was finally set in your new apartment by your brother.

“this is the last one, right? because i’m not helping you anymore,” he huffed out a breath and rested his hands on his thigh. you snorted out a laugh and responded, “lazy ass. yeah, this is the last box. thanks for coming.”

you invited your brother to stay a bit later to treat him for takeout but he declined and reassured you he was fine and was going to head home. nodding your head, you just agreed as you walked him to the door.

it was only about six p.m. when you decided to unpack the rest of the boxes that you and your brother had brought up. when walking back into the living room, the shades to the window were still opened and you saw your cat, bomi, sitting by the window peering through the opened shades. the apartments from the complex across from yours were the same as any others. many university students or young adults filled the rooms, some curtains were closed, and some were lit up by the LED lights that lined their ceilings. but one window was opened. it showcased the large tv the stranger had as well as three cats by the window as well. one of them was even similar to bomi. however you thought nothing of it, too tired of driving back and forth and bringing boxes up and down. so you closed everything in for the night after unpacking about three or four boxes.

the following morning, you walked to the kitchen. and through the opened kitchen was your living room which you saw bomi sitting at the window again. you had called her over and put the cat food in the bowl for her breakfast. after leaving bomi for her breakfast, you grabbed your laptop from your bedroom and sat on the couch to finish some work and answer emails from your new university. moments of rereading emails stopped when you looked up— for no particular reason— and saw the same cats that caught bomi’s attention by the window. and then the shade was opened. oh wow.

the owner of the cats was a male. you didn’t want to assume but he looked as though he was around the same age as you. and he was cute. really fucking cute. the guy that opened the shade was wearing a pair of adidas track pants and was shirtless. and you just stared at him, as creepy as it looked and sounded like. by his feet were his three cats and bomi was sat next to the window once again.

“bomi, what’s wrong with you all of a sudden?” you asked and grabbed her small body and sat back on the couch. “do you want friends now? are you lonely because we moved?” you joked to yourself and scratched behind her ears. but once you set her free from your grasp, she sat by the window and you noticed one of his cats was looking at bomi. just as you were about to put away your laptop, bomi got up and walked around the perimeter of the window with her head still facing out the ceiling-to-floor window.

your eyes followed her feline figure and an idea shot up from your noggin. you didn’t know if it would work but it was worth a shot. so you went to your car and drove to a nearby craft store to buy some poster boards and markers. when you got home, you contemplated in your mind for a couple minutes before just going for it. fuck it. you wrote the poster as if you were in bomi’s body. and you thought it was a bit childish and unrealistic but it was worth a try.

‘hi, i’m bomi from the apartment complex next door. i see you three cats, do you wanna be friends?’ unbelievable. absolutely unbelievable. but you just taped it up on the window and closed the shade just enough for you not to see if he responded and got ready to go to your job. this was never going to work.

—

when you got home, the sun was just barely setting and bomi was once again, sitting by the window and looking out into that apartment. you sighed to yourself and picked her up before opening the shade to see if the cats— or more so the boy— had responded.

thankfully, the boy didn’t reply and it calmed your nerves down a bit more. the entire day you were away at work, thoughts filled your head about all the possible outcomes that could happen. without realizing, you breathed out in relief and set down bomi to get ready to eat dinner and shower. all the while, you forgot about the poster and there it was— left taped on the window.

donghyuck, renjun, and chenle had been over jeno’s apartment that day when they saw the poster taped on your window.

“jeno! who’s bomi?” exclaimed hyuck with his brows raised up and down, playfully. jeno got up from his seat at the kitchen island when he looked out the window behind his couch. he then just shrugged but did not miss the cat that looked somewhat like seol. then renjun spoke, “maybe it’s that cat. hey, doesn’t she look a little like seol?” chenle went toward the window to put his two cents into the conversation, “hey, she kinda does! what if she’s looking at your cats, jeno?” he asked and pointed out the window. “we should write back!” he then said with a bright smile on his face.

“we can, but i don’t have any poster paper right now,” he excused. though the boys thought he was lying they suggested that they would go to the nearest corner store to buy some cheap poster papers to reply to you.

and they did, but around ten at night when you were long gone from your living room and asleep in your bed. bomi wasn’t at the window either, but they still decided to write the letter for you in the morning.

‘i’m seol, the one that looks like you. the one with the black is nal and the one with the gray stripes is bongshik. it’s nice to meet you!’ read the sign. jeno could not believe he was writing back to a stranger he’s never even seen before. but it was whatever, new friends for his cats, he figured. the male held the sign in front of him for a minute before just shaking his head and taping the poster to his window and he was out for the night.

—

the morning you woke up, you had set a reminder to yourself that your classes started today and got up from your bed to make breakfast for both you and your kitty. opening the shade to the window, bomi was pawing and softly meowing at the window.

noticing the paper still stuck on the window, you mentally curse yourself out and look to the opposite side of your building. there was also a piece of poster paper that was taped onto the window with his three cats under it, looking out into the city. you identified the three cats immediately.

“bomi look! you really do look like seol. they can be your friends instead of those alley cats back home,” you spoke to her and then got ready to attend your nine a.m. class. however before putting on your shoes, you wrote back a little note for the cats on the opposite building.

‘great! y/n (my owner) is at university but let’s meet some day!’ you still could not believe you were doing this as you finished taping up the board. you left it there for the day as you went to your classes for the next couple hours.

throughout your first classes, your mind always went back to what happened the last few days. your neighbors as well as his neighbors must’ve thought you were both crazy. but anything for your cats.

—

for some reason when you got home, you were in a rush to see if the boy had responded to the message you left that morning. and in all hell, he did.

‘hey! jeno (our owner) is on his way to class too! and yes, let’s definitely meet one day! our owners can meet too!’

when jeno awoke that morning, he was shoving cereal down his throat and looked at your window. his heart was beating faster as he read over the note and ran to put away his bowl and get ready for his class. though he didn’t forget to write back at you, even if you probably wouldn’t see it until later.

with the cap of the marker in his mouth, jeno quickly wrote down what he was going to say and messily taped the poster to his window and left his house. he was almost late for his nine a.m. class.

watching the students come in you noticed the owner of bongsik, nal, and seol come into the room. oh shit. you tried to hide yourself behind the screen of your laptop when you remembered that he’s probably never seen you before. so slowly, you escaped your little hideaway and kept your identity on the low. because he might have seen you in broad daylight when your shades were up. but he didn’t, so you were safe.

—

looking at the message taped to his window, you wrote back.

you were sitting on the carpet floor of the living room when jeno finally saw you; specifically your side profile but he wasn’t complaining. you were doing the same thing he was that morning— the marker cap in your mouth with your brows furrowed.

he then saw your face when you sat up and got the roll of tape to stick on the glass. and you too, saw him looking at you with a smile on his face. your jaw was slightly dropped and the cap of the marker fell from your mouth as the boy laughed at your expression, then he waved. your eyes were opened wide and you shyly waved back.

jeno read over the note you just wrote. ‘hi i’m y/n (sorry this whole thing was so weird but my cat would not stop meowing at yours) but we could meet at the park? if you’d like?’ he smiled even more as he read over your writing. jeno nodded and asked ‘is it okay if we meet now?’ to which you shook your head ‘yes’ and were on your way to the nearest park (which was a measly three minute walk from your apartment.) then, you realized you never specified a park and just hoped he came to this one.

your hands were in your pockets as you awkwardly looked around to see the cute boy that lived across the street. he came up from behind you and greeted, “hi, i’m jeno.”

upon the sudden talk, you slightly jumped and turned around as he laughed again, his eye smile on full display.

the two of you walked around the park and conversed for what seemed like a couple minutes. but after you exchanged numbers and arrived home, you realized you had been at the park for a good hour and a half. holy shit.

you found out a little bit more about lee jeno. he was allergic to cats yet he still adopted three (which was beyond the epitome of cute), that he also moved to the city around a year ago, and that you two were attending the same nine a.m. class. you two had so much in common, huh?

arriving home to his apartment, jeno laid on his bed with his hand over his heart. it was beating fast. who knew his cats would bring him someone so attractive?

just as he was thinking about you, seol jumped on his bed and knocks were heard from his front door. he rolled his eyes and got up from his bed, it was his best friends staying for the night. it was a friday, after all.

while hanging with his best friends he decided to message you to see what was popping i hate that i said that lmao. and through the next two movies, jeno was not paying attention. he’d look to see what was happening here and there but always trained his eyes back to his phone.

“ayy why are you on your phone?” teased jaemin and hyuck.

“yeah, who are you texting this time at night?” said mark and jisung.

“and why are you texting someone?” poked chenle and renjun.

none of these questions were barely answered because jeno was too busy smiling at his screen. but then mark looked over his shoulder to see that jeno was texting you.

“ayyy, who’s y/n?” mark raised his voice and hit jeno’s strong bicep. just as your name exited mark’s mouth, jaemin’s eyes lit up and knew who you were.

“oh my god, that’s soojin’s new neighbor!” he shouted and stood up from the couch.

“jeno’s got a (boy)girlfriend! jeno’s got a (boy)girlfriend! jeno’s got a (boy)girlfriend!” the six boys jumped from their seats and chanted. renjun then reminded them that you lived across the street and they ran to the window to see if you were there. unfortunately for them, your shades were closed and the only thing they were able to see was bomi.

“hey doesn’t that cat kinda look like seol?”

the next day (after his friends had left), jeno invited you to come to his apartment so that bomi could meet his three cats, two which you agreed and packed whatever bomi needed. you weren’t going to stay there long, right?

—

when bomi met bongshik, nal, and seol, the four of them kicked it off nicely. there was no hissing nor scratching and it made both you and jeno happy to see that your cats were getting along after never having a meeting. so while your cats played around in jeno’s apartment, he offered to let you stay for dinner. you were hesitant at first but agreed as he ordered some soju and chicken. predictable.

to you, jeno was being nice. though he was cute, you didn’t really know who he was and so you didn’t have a reason to catch feelings for him. but to jeno, you were more of a crush. not a big one since you both just met, but a tiny one. he knew you were a good person at heart and he couldn’t help the little emotions that he felt in his chest.

—

after many play dates between your pets, you did actually start to form feelings for lee jeno and he finally had the guts to ask if you wanted to go on a date.

“i thought you would never ask.”

and though it all deemed impossible and like a fairytale, you were glad you spoke up that day. because in the end, you got a boyfriend that was loving, and your cats had each other to play with.

#nct #nct dream #nct u #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #nct jeno #nct jeno fics #lee jeno soft hours #lee jeno scenarios #lee jeno drabbles #lee jeno fluff #lee jeno imagines #jeno au #jeno x reader #lee jeno

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kingofthefayz · 2 years

Note

what do you think caine would do after the fayz if he survived?

hmm, that’s interesting to think about. i don’t really know how caine would survive, unless little pete chose someone else, but let’s pretend that he basically just lived anyway.

i think he would have had the intent to die regardless of what actually happened in the end, so the letters he left on the island would still be there. he wrote the first letter with intent to essentially take the blame for everything that happened, and that combined with all the living kids who would have seen every bad thing he did, it’s unlikely that he would be very well-liked when the fayz comes down. the fact that he didn’t die against gaia meant that he lost that aspect of martyrdom, he didn’t have that ‘blaze of glory’, so before it was decided that the fayz was outside of california law, he’d probably be facing a very long prison sentence. he’d be considered very dangerous, especially after he claimed to be able to make people do bad things. whether or not he still had that ‘power’ is irrelevant - a lot of what was actually written by mg in the end of light would still be true if he survived.

i don’t think his parents would take him back in after the fayz. the reason he was sent to coates was because they just didn’t want him around anyway, and him being a dangerous and violent tyrant would damage their reputation, which they likely value much more than their adoptive son. his real mother, connie temple, would probably also be reluctant to take him in, considering in her view, her feeling of him being ‘evil’ was proven right. so he’d have to deal with rejection from any family he may have had. the only person who would possibly want him around would be diana - though he and sam would probably at least tolerate each other by this point.

in addition to all that, i feel like the loss of his power (in the literal and metaphorical sense) would hit him hard. when it comes to the telekinesis, it’s likely that he’d used it so much that it’d almost be second-nature, and i feel like he’d have moments when he’d try to use it post-fayz and fail.

as for what he would actually do, i’m not really sure. if he didn’t still just go to prison, he’d want to stay with diana, but as neither would be taken in by their own families he’d move with her to stay with sam and astrid. their relationship (referring to caina), while maybe not quite as toxic as before, would still likely be very unhealthy, as some formed by trauma can be. he might become dependent on it, as in his mind he’d have nothing else, and i don’t see it as something that would last. hell, i think if it did last long enough there might be a period where they get married, because that’s just what you do when you love someone for so long and also get them pregnant, but that wouldn’t last either. it might be an on-again-off-again kind of thing for a while but eventually diana would get away from it, doing exactly what she did in canon, and caine would struggle to find someone after. well, he might have some of the fangirls who probably started obsessing over him like those who obsess over serial killers, but would that really be the same? it certainly wouldn’t be any healthier.

in regards to things like jobs, school or things like that, i don’t know where he’d go with that, and i don’t think he would either, considering what he said to sam in light. he’d feel lost after the fayz - he spent so long trying to gain as much power as possible in that bubble but now he’s in the real world with adults and no powers and consequences for his actions, and as his parents would have cut him off he wouldn’t have the money to pay his way out of it. his reputation would almost certainly precede him for a long time, so unless he’s hoping to work with the most uncaring, selfish capitalists that would see potential in his cruelty (which, honestly, he might), nobody would want to associate with him. point is, at least at the start, he’d struggle. a lot.

he’d definitely be ‘encouraged’ (i.e forced) by sam and astrid to see a therapist for, well, pretty much everything - his anger issues, relationship troubles, family problems, ptsd, etc - and there’s a chance it could help if he put the effort in, but that depends on if he was serious about wanting to redeem himself. the therapy could also be a way to help with his gaiaphage-related trauma, after being tortured to near insanity he’d probably be having constant nightmares, panicking whenever he gets a headache and just being left with a mild sense of paranoia about being controlled like that again, which might never go away. hopefully the three he lives with would be willing to help him readjust as well.

anyway this answer got long and ramble-y, so sorry about that. and sorry it took me so long to answer this.

#gone #gone series #the gone series #gone michael grant #caine soren #diana ladris #sam temple #astrid ellison #anonymous ask

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 28- Crossbones

Summary: The Avengers uncover the identity of the mysterious Crossbones and mount a mission to apprehend him in Lagos.

Warnings: Bad language, Smut! (NSFW, Under 18s) Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: NEW BANNER ALERT @angrybirdcr has made a DOOZY for the Civil War part of the Story.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 27

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

January 2016

“Are you sure this isn’t a team call?” Katie asked Steve, watching as he picked up his shield.

“No.” He shook his head firmly as they walked down the corridor. “We don’t even know if he will be there.”

“But…”

“Katie, stop!” Steve chuckled, pushing the door open to enter the hangar. “We’ll be fine. This is intelligence gathering, I’ve no intention of heading straight off after this guy, not until we find out what his play is.”

“His play is arms trading.” Nat interjected dryly as she appeared at the side of the jet.

“Which we are going to gather intelligence on.” Steve looked at her sternly “Nothing more.”

Katie bit her lip, she wasn’t convinced.

“We’ll be fine.” Steve continued, putting both his hands on her shoulders before he deftly changed the subject. “Don’t you have an interview to be getting ready for?”

He watched as the gentle smile spread across her face, a surge of pride flooding his system. She’d recently found out that the author of one of the books SIP had published last year had worked their way onto the Pulitzer Nominee list for fiction. The book itself held a plot centred around a War Veteran and the letters he wrote to his girl back home, and she’d roped Steve into helping the author keep it as factually correct as possible, something he had found strangely nostalgic yet enjoyable. Upon publishing it had flown off the shelves, the original five hundred copies went within three hours causing a mad scramble for a second run and downloads had been off the scale. Other than the Thrombey book they had published, it was their biggest seller to date, shifting almost half a million copies in a month, and with a foreword from Steve Rogers, critics had raved about how poignant it was.

Whilst it hadn’t won the prize, simply being a nominee was an honour in itself according to Katie. The Publicists at SIP had arranged for the author to be interviewed in a few newspapers and magazines along with one of them also requesting Katie, to discuss the launch of her new charity The March Foundation, which would sit alongside Tony and Pepper’s latest initiative- The September Foundation, but instead of focusing on inventors and science, it would instead be centred around authors and the arts.

The name was a play on words, not only being another month to compliment Tony’s, but also to honour both the War Based fiction that had inspired it and the man who had saved her life as March was the month of Bucky’s birth. A decision that had really touched Steve.

She took a deep breath and sighed, as she eyed Natasha heading up the ramp into the jet.

“Just be careful…”

“I’m always careful.” Steve kissed her gently.

“Liar.” She mumbled against his lips. He grinned and pulled back, pecking her mouth once more before he started up the ramp. He paused at the top and turned to face her. “We’ll be back late tonight. Don’t wait up.”

“I won’t!” she teased.

He flashed her another smile and then he hit the button and the ramp started to close. A loud siren told Katie that the hangar door was opening and that was her cue to leave. She headed back over to the steps at the side, leading up to the mezzanine, and as she watched through the window she saw the jet fly out of the side and over the frosty compound grounds. It up through the clouds and gone from sight before she had reached the double doors at the top.

The base was a hive of activity already, despite it being little after seven am. Katie was heading for an hour or so in the gym before her day began properly. She stuck her Bluetooth headphones in, selected the usual work out play-list and began to run on the treadmill, slowly at first to ease herself in- she was a little bit stiff and sore from her sparring session with Natasha yesterday. Nat had really upped the ante on Katie over the last month or so, which was good as Katie was now pretty much on a par with her when it came hand to hand, something Steve had been completely astonished to see after walking in on the two women just as his wife floored Natasha with a well-placed leg swipe the red head didn’t see coming.

Forty minutes later, Katie swapped to the rower to finish off, and was approximately half way through the three-kilometre distance when her music cut off and the screen to the right of the machine switched over from the play-list to a visual of Rhodey.

“Hey Kiddo,” He smiled as she stopped rowing to look at him. “Sorry to interrupt, but we’ve had a sensor trip on the outer perimeter of the facility.”

“You send someone out there?” She frowned, catching her breath as she picked up the bottle of water that was to her right.

“Yeah, Sam is currently out there looking for it, just thought, well seeing as Cap and Nat are out, you’re technically the one in charge so…”

She let out a snort as she swallowed a mouth full of her drink. Being third in command was something she didn’t really care for, knowing full well it was Steve’s way giving her some kind of authority over simply being the Captain’s Wife, but she’d accepted the gesture simply because he’d been so excited when he had asked her she couldn’t refuse.

“Okay, I’ll go and check it out. “

Standing up she left the gym and moved quickly to the armoury, grabbing a gun, a coms piece and a fleece jacket before quickly making her way outside.

“What’s going on up there, Sam?” Rhodey spoke in her ear as she walked into the cold air, spotting Sam circling above.

“I’m at the location of the sensor trip, but I’m not seeing anything.” He said. “Oh, hang on…”

“What is it?” Katie asked, watching him as he circled above her.

“Roof top…”

“Gimme a lift?”

Sam swooped down from the clear, winter sky and she grabbed his arm as he effortlessly pulled her up, dropping them both onto the flat roof of one of the buildings.

“I can see you.” Sam called out loudly as they landed.

Katie frowned, as she didn’t know what Sam was talking about until out of nowhere a man in a red and silver suit, with an insect like helmet suddenly appeared. Katie cocked her gun and aimed it at him.

“Who the hell are you?” she questioned. As they watched the man started to awkwardly introduce himself to Sam, his mask lifted to reveal a shaky smile as he waved.

“Hi, I’m Scott. I know who you are, obviously, you’re Katie Stark, I mean Rogers…” Scott started trying to hold back his enthusiasm and motioning towards Sam and Katie with a chuckle. "I’m a big fan.”

"Appreciate it. But like the lady asked, who the hell are you?” Sam echoed Katie’s earlier sentiments.

“I’m Ant-Man.” Scott or Ant-Man answered confidently. Sam and Katie shared an incredulous look and Katie mouthed the name back to him and he shrugged. Katie lowered her gun slightly.

“Wanna tell me what you want?” She questioned Ant-Man as the man tried to explain why the two Avengers hadn’t heard of him.

Scott pointed towards a building to their left, maintaining eye contact with Katie as he spoke “I was hoping I could grab a piece of technology. Just for a few days, then I’d return it. I need it to, uh, save the world- you know how that is.”

“Yeah, we know exactly how that is,” Sam said to Scott and Katie felt her mouth twitching into a grin.

“What piece of technology, and what do you mean saving the world?” she asked.

“I’d love to tell you but Hank Pym said never to trust a Stark.” The man called Scott, or Ant-Man was almost apologetic. “Even though you’re technically a Rogers now.”

Katie frowned, she’d never heard of a Hank Pym before, but that was irrelevant now. Sam gave a sigh besides her and stepped forwards.

“We’ve located the breach.” he spoke “Bringing him in…”

“I’m really sorry about this.” Scott rushed out and as Sam reached out to him he vanished.

“What the…” Katie spun round and felt something hit her, hard in the back. She fell forward onto the gravelled surface of the roof before rolling onto her back, gun raised again just in time to see Sam flying backwards off the edge, tumbling through the air and grappling with something whilst flying over the lawns of the facility.

Katie could do nothing but stand and watch from her vantage point as Sam continued to wrestle with, then shoot at the man who could shrink and grow seemingly at will. And if she was completely honest, it was kind of entertaining to watch.

“This guy would actually be pretty useful.” Katie mused into the coms, trying but failing to hide the amusement in her voice “Are you recording this? For future, recruitment purposes obviously.”

“All over it.” Rhodey responded, a slight chuckle punctuating his confirmation.

It was when the two men crashed into the storage unit that Ant-Man had wanted to break into in the first place that she started to get concerned.

“Err do we have cameras in there?” she questioned Rhodey.

“Uh… negative.” Rhodey answered after a short pause.

“Shit.” Running to the side of the roof she scaled down the metal ladder at the side, dropping the last eight feet or so, landing gently before she ran towards the storage building. At that point Sam came crashing backwards through the metal door and Katie flung her arms up to shield her face from the debris before glancing up. Sam’s flight pattern was jerky and off and he was gripping at his pack on his back.

“He’s in my pack!” Sam shouted before he landed hard in the dirt and with a groan, pulled himself into a standing position, yanking off his goggles.

“You okay?” Katie asked as she ran over to him.

“Yeah, fine…” He sighed before he looked at her. “You know, it’s really important to me that Cap never finds out about this.”

Katie grinned and the pair of them scouted around but to no avail, there was no sign of Ant-Man, or Scott anywhere. Katie instructed Rhodey to get the door fixed and lock it down again and said she would speak to Tony to find out what was in there. Sam was luckily not hurt, just a slight bruising to his pride so Katie left him at the lab with Lawson to look at making the repairs to his pack before she headed off to get changed.

*****

Steve and Natasha landed in Sadove, Crimea and were instantly greeted by the man who was leading the investigation into the raid on the local police station. The last three out of six hits the guy had made had been on small, local outfits with less resistance than the other places he had hit but that was hardly surprising. The former SHIELD base he had hit in Mexico had been heavily guarded, which made Steve think that he had perhaps suffered losses to his team which was making him rethink his strategy. As Natasha chatted to the man in his local language, Steve hung back before the man nodded to Natasha and strode towards him.

“Captain Rogers.” he said, English thick with accent “Inspector Chernov.”

Steve shook the man’s hand “Pleasure to meet you in person Inspector.”

“So you are interested in the man who raided our local station?” “He’s been on our radar for a while.” Steve said, choosing his words carefully “But we don’t have much to go on.” “Well, I’m not sure we can help but I can take you down there and you can see for yourself.” Steve nodded. “That would be great, thanks.”

It wasn’t a long drive, and once they arrived Steve and Natasha were allowed to wander round the scene undisturbed, providing they didn’t interfere with the police and teams already swamping the area. Their search showed them nothing new and they moved to watching the CCTV which the Authorities had refused to send them. They could have hacked into it, but Steve was keen to keep the tentatively growing communication lines with Crimea and Russia as amicable as possible, especially in the light of Sokovia. The Avengers were not a political party, so by remaining respectful of their requests to meet only in person he hoped it went someway to proving they were here to help and had no ulterior motives.

As such they sat in the mobile control centre, scanning the CCTV. Steve watched the footage and sighed.

“This isn’t HYDRA.” Nat concluded and Steve agreed.

“I know, it’s not their MO. This guy is too haphazard.” Steve pondered. “Just wondering why, considering how well organised he is, he is leaving so much devastation behind.”

“Minimum effort leaving maximum casualties.” Natasha said, watching the footage “He simply doesn’t care who he takes out.” “Well he’s hardly gonna care about that if he’s dealing black market arms.” Steve sighed.

They watched the footage some more and Steve held his hand up to Natasha to play it at normal speed when they reached the bit where the key perps were on screen.

“What’s he doing?” He frowned, looking at Crossbones. The man was stood in the middle of the room, looking around.

“He’s scanning for Cameras.” Nat answered as they both watched.

There was something familiar about the way the man walked and held himself, but Steve couldn’t quite place it. As they continued the footage, Crossbones located the camera they were watching through and looked directly up at it, pulling his mask up a little to reveal his mouth, clearly saying something.

“Can you enhance that?” Steve asked. Natasha tapped at it.

It zoomed in on the man and Natasha spoke “looks like something about it being personal…”

She held her phone up to the footage and then pressed something, and the phone spoke to her in a robotic voice.

“Big Guy…I just want you to know, this aint personal.” Steve’s gut clenched. The last time he had heard those words were in an elevator in the Triskelion.

“Rogers?” Natasha looked at him, noticing the nerve which was twitching in his jaw “What is it? Does that mean something to you?”

“In a fashion.” He turned to face her. “It’s Rumlow.”

****** The interviews went well and once the photos etc were done Katie and Tony retreated to the living area of the Tower for a well-earned drink as they put the final touches of their tour together. They were to start visiting various Universities across the US to roll out their foundation grants. To ease them both in gently, the first University they were going to was Columbia, so not far from home. Tony and Pepper would be presenting and discussing to students within the School of Engineering and Applied Sciences and Katie in the School of the Arts for Students on the Writing Programme.

Their chatter moved from work to Tony asking how the Compound was going, and Katie remembered the events of that morning.

“You ever heard of a bloke called Hank Pym?” she asked suddenly.

Tony paused for a moment, frowning at her sudden change of subject, but something stirred in his mind. “The name rings a bell, hang on…FRIDAY, search all files reference Hank Pym.” He instructed, tapping at something on his tablet.

After a few seconds something flashed up in the corner of the screen.

“Yeah, here you go.” He pressed another button causing the image to reflect in front of them as a hologram. “He worked with Dad and SHIELD on a programme called Project GOLIATH.”

“What the hell was that?” Katie asked, taking a pull from her bottle.

“A research programme into some kind of Nano particle.” Tony said as the pair of them simultaneously ran through the information on the screen.

“Ahhhh.” Katie nodded, “makes sense…” “What does?”

Katie explained about the encounter with Scott and Tony gave a hum of agreement.

“That could actually be kinda useful.”

“I know.” she agreed “But he vanished after he got whatever he wanted. Any thoughts on what it could be?”

“That facility holds a load of crap that was Dad’s” Tony said simply “Could be anything.”

“Well, nothing we could see was missing, but it might be worth you taking a look.” she suggested.

He shrugged “I can do, but there was nothing remotely dangerous in there. Was just a load of old signal jammers and code breakers we don’t really need anymore.”

“Well, I did try and ask what him what it was he wanted, you know, on account of him saying he was saving the world, maybe we could have helped with that, being the Avengers and all, but he simply turned round and said ‘Hank Pym told me never to trust a Stark’.”

She drained her bottle of beer as Tony did the same and he stood up, taking the empties to retrieve 2 more from the fridge.

“Clearly one of many in the long line of people dad pissed off.” Tony rolled his eyes as he popped the lids, before he sighed “I’m actually surprised no one tried to kill him before, you know, he rammed their car into a tree.”

Katie looked at her brother and swallowed. Tony had no idea how close to the truth he was.

“Sorry.” he slid the beer across the bar, mistaking her guilty silence for one of upset “That was out of order.”

“For all his faults I don’t think Dad was a bad man.” Katie spoke quietly “And he did love us.”

“I know.” Tony nodded, squeezing her hand.

She stayed for another drink and then headed home. She had checked in with Sam before heading back to their apartment and she was settled on the couch with a glass of wine when Steve called.

“Hey Soldier.” she said, smiling at the screen as she flicked the phone to project the image in front of her, muting the TV.

“Hey Darlin’.” He smiled back

“So, how was it?” she asked

“Well we got the intel.”

“Solid?”

“Pretty solid yeah.” Natasha spoke, appearing by his side. “We think we know who he is anyway.” “Who?”

Steve sighed. “It’s Rumlow.” “What?” Katie spluttered into her wine glass. “Are you sure?”

“Oh pretty sure.” Steve nodded. “He left me a clear message.”

“Steve recognised him on the Video so I ran a crosscheck.” Nat picked up. “Turns out he was listed as severely injured and was taken to the hospital. After that, our trail runs cold.”

“Until now.” Katie sighed.

“We’ve also got a list of his associates, some known faces he’s been seen with.” Steve shrugged “So we’re putting out an alert.”

“Doesn’t give us much to go on though.” Katie rubbed at her temples.

“When have we ever had much to go on?” Natasha asked and Katie shrugged

“Fair point.” she conceded as Natasha moved off out of sight.

“So how has your day been?” Katie looked back at Steve as he spoke.

“Not bad actually.” she said, “Interviews went well, oh, and we had a bit of an incident at base before.” “Incident?” he frowned, “What kind of incident?”

“Attempted break in, nothing major.”

“Everyone ok?”

“Yeah, honestly it was no big deal, I’ll fill you in on when you get home. For the rest of the day once the interviews were done Tony and I drank beer.”

“Sounds pretty productive.” Steve raised an eyebrow, smile playing on his lips.

“Beer is always productive.” Katie informed him and he chuckled.

“We’ll be airborne in thirty minutes and then we should be home in about four hours.” He said, as Katie looked at her watch. It was almost 8:30 pm.

“Alright, I’ll see you soon.”

“Love you.”

“And you.” She blew him a kiss and cut the call with a yawn. She was tired. Really tired, so she headed off for a bath. After soaking and listening to music for forty minutes she dried off and shoved on one of Steve’s T-shirts before climbing into bed and laying there for a moment, flicking through the TV channels. She settled on an episode of Family Guy and snuggled down into the large bed, wrapping herself in the soft covers. It always felt odd sleeping without Steve being there. Sometimes she quite enjoyed being able to starfish in the middle of the Emperor sized bed but tonight she wasn’t enjoying being alone.

****

Steve was whacked when they arrived home. Bidding good night to Natasha, instead of changing in the armoury he headed straight back and let himself into their quarters. Crossing the hallway he made his way into the bedroom he paused, a gentle smile spreading on his face. Illuminated in the light from the hallway he could see Katie was curled up in the middle of the bed, using his pillow as a hugging buddy. He quietly crossed the room and perched on the bed, stripping off his boots and uniform top. He paused slightly as Katie stirred and he turned to look at her, gently brushing her hair of her face. He glanced down at the freckles he knew by memory, long thick lashes, soft pink lips, that familiar Stark nose…she looked so peaceful asleep.

She stirred again, and that nose he adored wrinkled in the way it did when she was waking up and she cracked an eye open before her face split into a smile at the sight of her husband.

“Hey.”

“Hey, baby girl.” He smiled, his hand cupping her cheek. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you”

“It’s Okay.” She yawned, leaning into his touch.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you are?” He asked, and through the tiny sliver of light coming from the hallway Katie could see his eyes were full of their usual warmth.

“I don’t think you did today, no.”

“Well in that case, you’re beautiful” He smiled and she chuckled slightly as he dropped a soft kiss on her head. “I’m gonna take a shower and then I’ll be right with you.”

She watched him appreciatively as he stood up and pulled his compression-shirt over his head, leaving him bare form the waist up as he headed into the en-suite. For a moment she was tempted to join him, but then decided against it, laying back onto her side, dozing.

It wasn’t long before the bed dipped and she felt him slide under the covers next to her. She turned over to snuggle up into the crook of his shoulder, her head laying on his chest.

“So, you wanna tell what the incident was today?” he asked, his right hand reaching up to play with the strands of her hair that fell over her shoulder.

“Oh yeah.” she grinned before she launched into an explanation about Scott-slash-Ant Man. He fell silent for a moment but in the end came to the same conclusion as Tony had, there was nothing in there that was dangerous so they just needed to remain vigilant.

“Yeah, well Sam seemed to be taking vigilant to the extreme as he’s already been on the phone to numerous contracts, trying to track him down.” she said “I think he’s a bit annoyed the guy basically kicked his ass. Rhodey caught it all on video but Sam told me never to tell you about it. He’s taken it quite personally.” “I’m not surprised, he had his ass kicked.” Steve sniggered. “Where do I get a copy of the CCTV?”

Katie grinned, “I have it on my phone, Rhodey sent it to me.”

“Play it.” he instructed.

“What now?” “Yes, right now.” he nodded, moving so he was sat up, jolting her off his chest.

“No Sam will kill me!” she laughed, propping herself up on her elbow

“Screw Sam!” he snorted “He plays those damned Phys Ed videos every chance he gets.”

“That’s true.” Katie pondered “Ok, hang on…”

She turned, reaching over for the phone and the TV remote. Blinking at the sudden light, once her eyes were accustomed to the change she pressed a few buttons on her phone and beamed the footage to the TV on the wall. She had to admit, it looked even funnier from the video play back than it had when she had been there.

Steve let out a huge, genuine laugh, his head thrown back, banging against the headboard, arm clutched across his chest as he laughed, and laughed.

“I’m so showing that at our next briefing.” he said, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

“You can’t…” “Oh, I can!”

****

The next morning the pair of them made their way to the briefing room both munching on a piece of toast and each carrying a mug of coffee. It was early, before 8, but Steve wanted the team to be prepared. Everyone filed into the room along with some good humoured grumbling about the time before they dropped into their preferred seats and looked to the front of the room.

“I know it’s early and I’m sorry…” Steve held his hands up, looking round at the team assembled in front of him “But this is important.”

“More important than sleep?” Sam yawned.

Steve ignored him. “Alright, here’s what we already know.” Steve began to explain how they believed Rumlow to be Crossbones, the masked man who had been causing a whole lot of chaos in the wake of what happened at the Triskelion. Katie knew he was annoyed at himself for not realising he had survived sooner, but even if they had, they’d so much going on, not to mention Ultron had been a much bigger threat in the immediate future

"He’s been targeting former SHIELD labs and police stations all over the country and selling products on the black market.” Natasha spoke.

“Police stations?” Katie asked.

“We think he suffered heavy losses at the raid prior to the last three, so he’s going for easier targets whilst he regroups.” Natasha answered.

“Still no intel on who his buyers are?” Wanda asked.

“No.” Steve shook his head, “He seems to have become an independent terrorist, and doesn’t appear to be working for anyone”

“Our recon yesterday told us that Rumlow seems to be operating with this guy.” Natasha explained as the photos flashed up “He’s known as the Black Mamba…” “Black Mamba?” Wanda deadpanned. “Cross Bones and Black Mamba?”

“NATO has every available pair of eyes out looking for them.” Steve ignored Wanda and looked at Rhodey.

“Soon as they break cover, we’ll know.” Rhodey nodded

“So then what?” Sam frowned

“More recon?” Katie asked

Steve looked at his wife and nodded. “Possibly, but for now we need to let intelligence do their job. But be prepared, when we get a lead I want to be ready to go.”

There were mumbles around the room and Steve let the team lead the discussion. Sam commented on the crap code names again, causing Wanda to laugh. Katie suggested they should compile a detailed profile on Rumlow, see if they could find a pattern to his behaviour, nodding to Vision. the AI had a knack for it as did Katie, so Steve and Natasha nodded, both agreeing it was a good idea.

“We need to be vigilant.” Steve instructed. “Keep our eyes open for anything that’s out of the ordinary.” He caught Katie’s eye, a wicked smirk crossed his face and she shook her head smiling as he continued “Speaking of which…FRIDAY, play the video”

“Certainly Captain Rogers.” The pictures of Rumlow and Black Mamba disappeared from the screen and suddenly the footage of Sam spiralling through the air started to play. The room started to snigger as Sam looked at Katie who held her hands up in an “it wasn’t me!” gesture.

“Oh come on Man!” He groaned as the room gleefully watched the film, laughter ringing round the room.

******

The next four months ticked by with no further information on Rumlow. They pulled together a potted history which tracked the hospital he had been in, when he had escaped (the local authorities had been searching for him for ages since he threatened his nurse upon waking before violently breaking out) his movements since (ones they knew about and some they hadn’t) but it didn’t give them anything new.

Katie and Tony were buried deeply in their Foundation work, which was taking up a lot of Katie’s time so she wasn’t as close to the investigations as she could have been. Steve was fine with that though, the further away she was from Rumlow frankly the better, but he still made sure she was involved with what they had found and she attended the briefings as best she could when she wasn’t travelling the country. Steve’s chest burst with pride every time he saw his girl on the news, in papers, as the press seemed to be lavishing praise upon the siblings for what they were doing.

Then, one day in the middle of May, they struck gold when one of the Facial Recognition Alerts they had set up pinged to Black Mamba being spotted in a Lagos, Nigeria. As a result Steve had scrambled them all to attention as soon as he could, which was four am. But there were no complaints about the time, not when they knew this could be their chance to bring him in. They all pitched round the screen as Steve and Natasha identified the local police station that they suspected of him hitting, given where the FR had pinged several times.

“We think they are scoping this area.” Nat said, drawing a red circle round a part of the town.

Katie moved the screen with her fingers, enlarging the aerial shots as she looked at them, her analytical brain going ten to the dozen.

“Layout looks pretty standard.” she said, scanning the map, frowning slightly. Something was nagging at her. And as she looked, she realised what it was.

“What is it?” Steve asked, recognising the tone of her voice and frown on her face.

“The Science Institute.” She nodded towards the screen. “Big white building at the end of the road.”

“Biological weapons are big on the black market.” Sam cottoned on, nodding slightly.

“Yeah but his recent previous hits and our pattern analysis don’t give us any reason to believe that’s what he’s going to be aiming for.” Nat suggested

“You said yourself that you suspected he was going for easier targets whilst he regrouped.” Katie bit her lip. “What if he has?”

“We have to assume Rumlow will go for the police station, it’s the best intel we have.” Steve looked at her and he noticed the expression on Katie’s face as she crossed her arms and opened her mouth to argue. “But we should be vigilant, keep alert.”

She exchanged a glance with Sam, who simply shrugged

“We do this with stealth.” Steve continued, “I want us on the ground and out of sight, we need to catch him with as little fuss or danger to civilians as possible”

"Yeah, and with that in mind Viz you may need to sit this one out.” Nat tossed out and Vision nodded deprecatingly

“We’re still working on him blending in.” Wanda added.

“Same for you too Rhodey.” Steve looked at him “We need someone back here, we could be gone a few days.”

Rhodey nodded. “No problem Cap.” “Get what you need. Wheels up in twenty.” Steve dismissed everyone who immediately went their separate ways to prepare for the upcoming mission leaving Katie, Natasha and Steve alone

“You think she’s ready?” Natasha looked at Steve, nodding to Wanda. He took a deep breath, staring at the door through which she had just left with Vision.

“You say she’s been training hard.” He spoke after a moments pause, looking at Nat.

“Yeah, she has but her powers are still largely impacted by her emotions.”

“Aren’t everyone’s?” Katie asked. “I mean I’m angry or upset I fight harder, as you know.” “Yeah but,” Nat sighed “It isn’t the same, she can do a lot of damage.”

“We have the bare bones of a team as it is.” Steve shook his head and Katie looked down, feeling slightly guilty. She had discussed this with Steve, she wasn’t going. The Stark Foundation Tour had another few visits to Universities this week. Steve spotted the look on her face and he gently nudged her arm “That’s not a criticism honey…” “I know…” she bit her lip. Maybe she should postpone…

“Throw in the fact that this is the first full team mission we’ve had since Ultron and I don’t see any choice but to take Wanda” Steve shrugged, ending the conversation.

Nat took a deep breath and nodded “You’re right. And maybe being in an actual mission environment might help her gain some control, I mean practice makes perfect.”

“You trying to convince me or yourself?” he asked, eyeing her

“Both.” she drawled, heading out of the door.

Katie took a deep breath as Steve turned to her. “You best go.” she smiled softly. Steve bit his lip before he pulled her into an embrace, kissing her softly.

“I’ll call as soon as I can.” He promised, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Stay safe, please.” She whispered as he kissed the tip of her nose and hurried out of the door.

Once he was gone, Katie sank onto a chair, her head in her hands. She was torn, really torn. For the last year or so, post Ultron, they’d had a pretty quiet time of it, mopping up any stray Hydra operatives that strolled into their patch. But this, this was big. Was the Foundation really more important than putting a halt to whatever shitty plan Rumlow was trying to pull off? She was still an Avenger after all, she’d never quit that, and would never quit that.

She’d always be Supernova, whether she wanted to be or not.

“I’m gonna regret this.” She groaned to herself as she jumped up, and headed after the rest of the team.

*****

Steve, at first, had tried to argue against her coming but when Natasha had pointed out they could do with the support he had relented and the team had been bolstered by Supernova’s return to active duty.

Their support staff had done a great job on such a short time, and rented the group a four bedroomed apartment overlooking the street the Police Station was on. It wasn’t fancy, but it was the last place anyone would think would house Avengers. They spent their first day setting up a command centre, with coms links back to base and the next morning they began their recon.

The first two days were completely uneventful. No sign of Rumlow or any of his associates. Nat was the expert at covert ops and so she took the lead, directing them to all the right places coaching Wanda along the way and Steve was pleasantly surprised to see how well the younger girl took to the task, blending in with the locals. Katie took to observing from up high with Sam, her attention on the Biological Institute, unable to shake the nagging feeling she had about the place. She hadn’t mentioned it since their brief a few days ago, but Steve knew when she had an idea in her head she wouldn’t rest so he left her to it. Between them they had the area covered, which was good enough.

On the evening of the fourth day Wanda, Sam and Natasha headed out for a little undercover work in the bars at night, “So you guys can have a little undercover activity of your own” Sam teasingly stated, patting Steve on the back as he left, drawing an exasperated sigh from the Soldier. Nevertheless, the door had hardly clicked shut before Steve had his wife pinned up against a wall, hands wandering all over her body, lips and teeth clashing, her hand fisting in the slightly longer strands of hair at the top of his head as they’d furiously taken advantage of their first time alone in days.

The next morning Katie woke at about five-forty-five am and rolled over only to find the bed empty besides her. Steve could never rest when they were in the middle of a case like this. The clothes they had shed and left scattered all over the floor the night before were now folded and placed on top of the dresser, and she had to smile. Even now he was a total neat freak. Knowing full well where he would be she climbed out of the bed, pulled on Steve’s T-shirt and a pair of shorts before making her way into the dark corridor. She stopped in the doorway of the small dining room which was functioning as a makeshift office and sure enough, there he was, the lamp softly illuminated his handsome face as he flicked through a file, crease evident between his brows.

“Soldier, you’re up so early.” She said gently. Steve had heard her coming of course. Smiling softly, as he was always pleased to see her, he turned to face her as she crossed the room.

“Yeah, sorry, I woke about half an hour ago and couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“You know, I get that you’re fed up of just waiting but sitting here re-reading all this isn’t going to help you know.” Katie sighed, taking the file off him and dropping it onto the wooden table, before she perched on the edge.

“I know, it’s just so goddamned frustrating.” Steve ran his hand over his face. After pondering for a moment Katie stood up and walked behind the chair and placed her hands on his shoulders. He let out a groan of satisfaction and leaned back in his seat as she kneaded the muscles with her hands. She found a particularly bad spot just under his shoulder blade and began to push harder with her thumb. Steve, unable to decide if it was pleasurable or painful, made a little noise which was half way between the two.

“God your shoulders are so knotty.” Katie mused and he left out a breath through his nose moving his head to the side.

“Yeah well, I did a lot of exercise last night.” He quipped back as her hands continued to work at his shoulders.

“I’ll say.” She grinned. “You know that thing you did with your mouth is actually illegal in several countries.” “Good job we live in the land of the free.” His voice was low as he fully relaxed under her touch. Katie carried on working at his muscles in silence for a moment, happy to let him bliss out.

“So… answer me a question?” She spoke after a short while, rousing him a little, and he hummed, unable to bring himself to be bothered to talk.

“If you couldn’t sleep why didn’t you wake me to help you?” Her voice was loaded as she leaned forward to wind her arms around his neck, running her hands up and down his chest from behind. Steve loved it when she touched him like that which was why he pouted slightly when she pulled away, but the pout didn’t last long and a smirk crossed his face as Katie walked round to the front of his chair

“And how, exactly, would you have done that?” His hands moved to rest on her hips as she lowered herself so that she was straddling him. She slid one of her hands around the back of his head to tangle in his hair the other settling on his chest.

“Reckon I can think of a few ways.” She smirked slyly before using her hand in his hair to pull him forward and connect their lips. Steve kissed her back immediately as one hand crept up the back of her top, the other on the side of her thigh, sliding up her shorts.

“Sleepy yet?” She murmured.

“Not exactly the word I would use.” Steve raised an eyebrow.

She grinned and then began to rock her hips on top of him grinding down on his growing hardness and he sighed slightly, kissing her harder as she pushed down again. With an automatic reaction he raised his hips, rocking up to meet her and this time she groaned as she could feel the friction of their clothes grinding against her clit. His hands were now firmly holding her hips underneath her, no, his top, and he sat forward so his mouth could cover the spot under her ear that drove her wild. With a soft sigh she titled her head to the side as he trailed kisses across her jaw until his mouth met her lips again. His hands reached down to grasp the hem of her top and he had just begun to slide it upwards when they were interrupted by a raspy voice.

“I thought all the making out fully clothed supposedly stopped when you reached the age of seventeen.” Natasha scoffed from the doorway. Katie looked up over Steve’s shoulder as he sighed, dropping his head onto her chest, letting out a groan of frustration.

“Don’t you know how to knock?” Katie sighed.

“Don’t you know how to lock a door?” She retorted, dryly.

“I take it this isn’t a social call?” Steve’s voice was muffled as he spoke into his wife’s chest, not bothering to move his head. Katie chuckled a little, her hand running through his hair.

“Half and half.” Natasha arched an eyebrow, “Unsociable hour it maybe but Wanda’s already up and wants breakfast, she was going to head out to the local bakery but I thought it might be an idea to start the re-con early.”

Steve’s head looked up to Katie’s as she shifted off his lap and straightened out her clothing and hair. Steve glanced down at his crotch and Katie raised an eyebrow slightly as he stood up and adjusted his sweats in an attempt to hide his slowly ebbing arousal before he turned to face the red head.

“Well, you’re the expert in this covert stuff.” He raised his brow. “What have you got in mind?”

*****

“All right, what do you see?” Steve was coaxing Wanda, as ever, to observe her surroundings, see and hear everything, on the job training he supposed you could call it.

Meanwhile, Katie glanced down from the rooftop on which Sam and her were currently stood, her scanners doing their usual work. No weapons spotted yet.

“Standard beat cops. Small station. Quiet street. It’s a good target” Wanda’s voice came through the ear piece Steve was wearing.

“There’s an ATM in the South Corner.” he replied “which means….”

“Cameras” Wanda said instantly.

“Both cross streets are one way.” He carried on

“So, compromised escape routes.”

“Means our guy doesn’t care about being seen, he isn’t afraid to make a mess on the way out.” Steve concluded. “You see that Range Rover halfway up the block?”

“Yeah, the red one? It’s cute”

“It’s also bulletproof,” Katie cut in as FRIDAY completed a scan on the vehicle “Which means private security…”

“Which means more guns, which means more headaches for somebody. Probably us” Nat finished

“You guys know I can move things with my mind, right? “ Wanda replied

“Looking over your shoulder needs to become second nature.” Natasha continued

“Anybody ever tell you you’re a little paranoid?” Sam asked and Katie turned to look at him, retracting her face plate to give him a grin.

“Not to my face. Why? Did you hear something?” the exchange continued.

“Eyes on target, folks” Steve spoke firmly with an air of authority, bringing them back to the job in hand. “This is the best lead we’ve had on Rumlow in six months. I don’t want to lose him.”

“If he sees us coming that won’t be a problem. He kind of hates us.” Sam replied

As Steve watched he noticed that a garbage truck was slowly pushing its way through traffic, with no regard to pedestrians or other vehicles. He frowned and kept his eyes on it as it continued to gather momentum as it went.

“Sam, Katie…see that garbage truck? Tag it.”

Sam’s small drone launched, swooping down to scan the vehicle as Katie instructed FRIDAY to do the same.

“Give me X-ray.” Sam spoke. There was a pause before he gave a little moan. “That truck’s loaded for max weight.”

“And the driver’s armed.” Katie concluded.

And in that second it dawned on Steve that his wife had been right all along. The Institute was the target after all.

“It’s a battering ram.” Katie’s voice mumbled on the coms, clearly having realised the same thing he had, and with that Steve turned from the window, running for the door.

“Go, now!” He yelled into his coms as he sprinted down the stairs. “There not hitting the station…” “The institute…” Sam spoke as Steve burst onto the street looking up in time to see Falcon and Supernova spiralling into the air.

And once more the fight was on.

**** Chapter 29 Part 1

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #Katie Stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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kojinnie · 3 years

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Hello, I hope youvare doing fine !

It's for the Twisted Match-up ! My worst personality traits are : being too judgemental, run away from problems and insecure (idk if the second one can be considered a personality trait). My fav, character would be Hanji 😁

-🌱

Tags: a break-up fic, mild angst, modern!au

Summary: Reader left Hange with a farewell note, and in the reader’s absence, Hange finally confesses how they truly feel about you.

A/N: Thank you for the req, sweetie! Hange is perhaps my #1 character in the whole AOT and I always tried to refrain from writing about them as I fear I may not do my love justice. But for you, I tried and hope you’ll enjoy it~

- They/them for Hange's pronoun.

“I should’ve known,” Hange Zoe muttered to themselves. There was no contempt nor sadness in their voice, just a plain acknowledgment.

The seat that you sat on earlier was now empty after you left abruptly, leaving enough space for all Hange’s unanswered questions of what caused your departure. The diner where you left Hange alone had suddenly became packed since lunchtime had started, and in that commotion of people coming in and out, Hange realized that they had understood since long time ago why you would eventually leave, they just didn’t want to acknowledge it sooner.

For better or worse, the two of you shared a lot in common and one of those is the ability to trick oneself into thinking that everything was alright, until it’s not.

Hange left for a business trip the past week, and the last time the two of you met, there was an obvious spite in you. It started with messages left unreplied and calls that Hange missed from you, as they were preparing for a big project. You knew already that Hange was the type to immerse themselves in their work. There was a fire you could never put out and that was Hange’s devotion for their work. But for once you wanted to be prioritized and Hange missed every chance to do so.

Hange had the capability to trivialize feelings as if it is secondary to almost everything, and they thought if they were to return to you after the trip, with their big smile and their ramblings about all the amazing things they saw while away, you would cave in and share their excitement all the same.

“I should’ve known,” Hange mumbled on their own again, staring at your drink that was left untouched by you, “you were never on board.”

You had left the leather notebook that Hange gave you on your last birthday wide open on the diner table. Within, you had written all the things you wished you could say to them that you never had the courage for.

Dear Hange— you wrote. Hange sighed as a realization suddenly grew inside them, while looking at the words that you had written in blotted inks. Hange was only a line into your letter, upon realizing that they never knew how your handwriting looked like until now. The way certain alphabets twisted in a way Hange had never seen before – how many months had passed since the two of you had been together? And yet it never passed Hange’s mind how your words would look like written, nor did it ever bother them for not knowing.

Hange put your letter down and reached out to the other side of the table to sip your untouched drink for a while. They needed time to process your departure.

Hange knew that you had been crying while writing the letter. Evident by the blots in the ink and the crumpled edge. It’s odd because rather than feeling upset, Hange felt a sense of achievement for picking up the details, which sparked an uncanny inner struggle within them, “Could it be…” Hange mumbled to themselves, “that I don’t care?”

For the longest time, Hange had taken pride in being perceptive and observant – at least that’s what Levi and Erwin often call them,and maybe the compliment started to get into Hange’s head, as much as they would not like to think of their vanity. Yet the ironies persisted; that Hange would pick up small, irrelevant details but would be oblivious to something so obviously displayed in front of their eyes: how unhappy you were.

I couldn’t say this to you directly, because I know you have such power on me, to make me sit and smile and pretend that everything’s okay. To make me laugh and praise as you talk and talk about how exciting the things you do with Erwin and Levi.

“Oh…” realization continued to hit as Hange reminisced the way your face lit up whenever they shared to you all about their works and achievement. Hange thought you were genuinely rejoicing their achievement and took it as yours as well, but then Hange realized moments too late that you weren’t.

Has it ever occured to you that I also want to be celebrated and it’s not always had to be about what you and your accomplished peers have achieved?

Hange leaned back to the booth cushion, gazing aimlessly at people rushing their meal, for lunchtime was going to be over soon. Hange remembered that one evening, you were hungry and Hange took you to this diner, where the two of you sat at this very booth. You didn’t touch your food, you were sighing repeatedly and moved about in your seat. Hange knew how an agitated person looked like.

“Something wrong?”

You shrugged off, sighing heavily, “My end-year review is coming up soon,” There was an obvious worry in the way you spoke, “I don’t think I’m gonna get promoted.”

Hange remembered that they sat there in silence for a while, before stuffing their mouth with roasted ham they ordered, “Urgh, that sucks. But don’t worry though, I’m sure you’ll do fine—oh anyway, did you check today’s headline?” And with no hesitation Hange dropped the topic you were about to pour out that night.

Hange started to realize the problem.

I needed your reassurance but you were too.. out there.. with your experiments, researches and business trips to even realize.

When I go out with you and your friends, and all of you were laughing for things I didn’t understand… I often wonder whether you were laughing with me, or at me.

Hange realized that it wasn’t fair, for the two of you equally. They realized that they should’ve involved you more and not just used you as an outlet to pour their stories excitements at times. Hange felt guilt creeping within them, but quickly muttered in defense: “How am I supposed to know? You never told me.”

“You’re so quick to judge,” Hange said again, almost whispering, to the empty seat in front of them, with their fingers tracing the lines of your writing, “Is that how you thought of us all along?”

“What do you need reassurance for anyway?” Hange’s wondering was quick to turn into annoyance, “I don’t read minds.”

I’m not as good as you, you wrote. The ink almost faded out beyond recognition, you must had cried the worse when you got to this part, Hange thought.

Never will be as good as you. Or Levi. Or Erwin. I know I should be proud of you – but why all I ever felt was envy and jealousy?

Weren’t you supposed to be my solace, Hange?

“You should’ve told me…” Hange finally resolved, dragging their gaze to the afternoon view through the diner window. Bustling city felt so hollow without you. You were supposed to have a lunch with Hange, first time after they returned from the business trip. Hange had so much to talk about, things they pent up throughout the trip because Hange couldn’t wait to share it to you. To see the smile looming on your face, something so beautiful for Hange – one that they didn’t encounter often in their suffocating, busy life.

Hange thought, maybe you were quick to judge because you had been hurt by every type of people that had ever came into your life. Maybe to assume the worst from people had given you aid from being disappointed by people you love. Hange tried to understand, but without you knowing, for Hange, no validation or praise from anybody had encouraged them more than yours. You were the only validation Hange sought after. And to realize that maybe you never meant all those had finally started to hurt Hange, as much as they tried to shrug it off.

“You shouldn’t have left,” Hange regretted going to the loo, or not coming to their sense faster to realize that you were hurting. Maybe you wouldn’t have space and time to slip away and to only leave this notebook behind. Yet Hange also cursed your fear of confrontation, leaving everything to your worst assumption, “then maybe we could talk this out.”

“Unless you never wanted to, to begin with.” Hange cursed themselves for not better at reading between the lines of your words. Maybe that was why your hands were no longer warm to their touch, nor was your kiss as long and deep as they used to. Maybe deep inside, despite your smile and your nods, your heart was no longer home.

I wish you could see who am I really and not as a figment of your imagination, you wrote, with sides of the page crumpled from the tears you had left upon writing it.

The line struck a final understanding for Hanji, as they muttered in regret, “I won’t,” deep inside really wishing that you were there in front of them, “because you always see less of yourself and that’s never who you are.”

“You’re more than all of your self-pity.” Hange reiterated, finally closing the notebook where you had poured all your heart into, “you’re more than all that.”

And Hange wished you would have known.

Honestly I feel like there's a void in the ending. Like something's misplaced. Sorry if it feels weird, I'm still tryna recover from chapter 138 😭💔

#hanji x reader #hange x reader #hanji zoë #hange zoë #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #🌱 anon #requested #kojins twisted match-up

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