#my pity is at 40 so i expect her to be home in the first 10 pull. just you watch

[hawberries]

did you get a pot 6 lee?

omg i missed this ask because i was traveling but thank you SO much for asking! I pulled 302 times so I could spark Nian, and in that time I was incredibly lucky enough to get five Lees, two Lings, an off-banner Thorns, an off-banner Passenger, a random unrelated top op tag which dropped Ifrit, and a surprise Dusk at pull 277, so I was able to complete the whole Sui family in one year! I feel extremely rewarded for my loyalty and hard work, it was everything I'd saved since I started playing and it made skipping all those banners actually worth it :D (I get the monthly card so this is not f2p savings, but I'm glad I didn't feel the need to spend anything beyond that!)

Here's how my fish is looking; still working on the M6 and looking forward to getting the specialist tokens out of the CC store in a few weeks so I can max pot him, but I've absolutely adored using him and listening to his voice lines! To all of the 4 arknights fans following me, I hope your wine pulls went decently, and good luck to anyone hunting Goldenglow as well! >:3

#crunchyroll expo went so well that i ended up buying a pack anyway but it was after i'd already done all my pulls ldkjskdj #IT WAS JUST TO CELEBRATE LEE #shut up phee #arknights #sorry for talking about gacha games ever but in my defense: koi daddy #q and a time with phee #i also got goldenglow in 26 pulls which was INSANE so i flipped to the squirrel banner and dumped the rest of what i had in for Sona #did not get her :( but that's okay these things are to be expected in gacha games… i am in a state of meditative calm about it #next target is the catholic phoenix :D #my pity is at 40 so i expect her to be home in the first 10 pull. just you watch

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Saturday 18 August 1838

7 5

fine morning – F69 ½° at 9 am and breakfast at 9 ¼ to 10 ¾ - on my gently asking A- if she was better  her sulky tone of answering she was pretty well put an end to all further conversation on my part   I felt my blood rise    I silently hoped that even her power to irritate me would wear away   and I quietly took up the paper and breakfasted and read (to myself) and ate strawberries till     see above    of that I was at ease ‘tis now indignation that I feel to suffer myself to be so treated at such hands   I must do something this way cannot go on   but I cannot leave her here   I will think about it    I have done wrong in treating her so [nan] equality I ought to have kept up more authority   I have let her trammel me too much   this must be broken through in the first place   I will leave her a little more   and heaven be praised for this opportunity I will write sometimes without shewing her my letters   the best thing will be for her to continue in bad temper some days longer   let her be sick enough of it  before she has done with it – for about ½ hour before breakfast and afterwards from 11 5 to 12 40 wrote the last 14 lines of p. 324 and the whole of pp. 325 and 326 and so far of this p. –

it is pitiful and poltro[o]n in me to let A- go on in this way   I must put a stop to it

vide 29 August

at accounts etc. till now 2 ¾ the horse having come about 5 minutes ago – out at 3 5 – thro’ along the Barèges road and turn up (right) to Viella in the vale de [Soubrelitz] and thence still ascend, and going forwards soon get into the next vale vale de Bōll for view of the Neouvielle [Néouvielle] – in sight of end of vale de Bōll, at the fontaine des bergers, a long stone trough, covered in cabin-wise, at 5 5 and stood here 10 minutes – the pic d’Ayre and its mass forms the opposite side the valley the pic seeming opposite the fontaine – the end of the valley closed in by a butte or col between which and the Neuovielle [Néouvielle]  a large glacier hid from us by the col – one can go on horseback to the col – 3 hours de marche afterwards to the summit of the Neouvielle [Néouvielle] – N- partly hid in brouillard, and seeming inaccessible from this side – the crête, hourquette de [Lanitz] (on our fountain side) sa prolonge jusqu’à Neouvielle [Néouvielle], shutting the valley up to the cold – off home again at 5 ¼ and thro’ the village (Viella) and at the great highroad again at 6 30 – A- walked the last ¼ hour or perhaps rather more – I had walked (except mounting two little bits to avoid the wet road where the water was turned down it) above an hour – from before 5 – home at 6 ¾ having left Charles in Luz to go to the prince de la Moscowa to explain that I could now prove my ascent of the Vignemale, and to see whether he would now believe it or not – for if not, I think of mounting Charles and going to Lourdes tomorrow to consult Mr. Latapis again as to what step I had best take for as I have gone up, and gone up first, I determined nobody else shall run away with the laurier if I can help it – dinner at 7 10 in ½ hour then slumbered in my chair as I sat at table A- having first taken her book – had Charles from 8 to 8 ¼ - Contrary to Charles expectation the prince de la M- seems to have received him very well and to be at last convinced that I really did get to the top – but he made use of a word against Cazos which he (Charles) could not repeat to me – But Charles had had to wait sometime (the prince at dinner) and the princes’ servant had told him (Charles) that he the servant had Cazos’ brother-in-law go up before them who had probably taken away the bottle – but that the prince had said (to him the servant) he would go on, and if he could not be first he would be 2nd – Charles asked the prince if he would like to see the déclaration – no! said the prince Je m’en rapporte

SH:7/ML/E/21/0171

à vous’ – but said he ‘if Cazos should make another declaration?’ Charles thinks the matter well ended – eh! bien – said I – c’est bien – le prince commence à nous croire – mais [?] je penserai à cette expression – ‘si Cazos fairait une autre déclaration’ – mais vous avez été bien reçur – j’en suis bien aise; and, on this, Charles saying his horse was calling after him in the street, went away A- having told me to say 4 pm tomorrow for the horses to come – except this and what civility has returned  I have not today spoken to A- nor she to me fine day – came to our rooms at 8 25 – had Josephine in about 20 minutes – then sat amusing – looking at Charpentiers’ map, and reading a few pp. of Chaussenque [Chausenque] [Chausenque] vol. 1 (to p. 309) till 9 40 pm at which hour F68°

[kitkatt0430]

4 and 7?

4.) How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

Too many to count and there's always something new showing up when I least expect it. Both a curse and blessing to be a fic writer with an overactive imagination.

So one that has been sitting in the back of my mind for a while is the Code Realize fusion fic where Eddie has a toxic touch. I haven't really written anything out yet, but I've got a general idea of how the first part of the story would go.

It would start with the local military of Central City, led by General Eiling, converging on a nearby abandoned town. Specifically a house where the town's sole inhabitant lives. Eddie Thawne. Eddie knows he's not supposed to go anywhere - the house he lives in is the only one where he can touch anything without his melting away to nothing. He never grows hungry and his boredom is relieved by the small library of books within, but Eddie longs for companionship.

Companionship his father's letter forbids him. Because, according to Eobard Thawne, Eddie is a monster.

But Eiling's arrival changes things. The General refuses to leave without Eddie and threatens to destroy the house itself if that's what it takes to force Eddie to go with him. Eddie can't risk his one sanctuary being destroyed and, reluctantly, agrees. But Eiling destroys the house anyway. 'Cause he's a jerk.

Dismayed because now the only things he can touch are the ones Eiling stole from the house before setting it on fire, Eddie thinks his only choice now is to go with Eiling; he can never escape to go home now, like he'd been hoping. But at the outskirts of town, a new option appears - a phantom thief calling himself the Flash appears, taunting Eiling and running off with Eddie in his arms.

The Flash introduces himself once they're safely away. His real name is Barry Allen and he needs Eddie's help, if Eddie's willing to give it. He's looking for Eobard Thawne, Eddie's father... because he has reason to believe Eobard Thawne is planning a terrorist attack on Central City. Eddie wants to find his father too. To find out whether he's truly planning something so terrible... but also to find out why he's a 'monster' and what it has to do with the shining stone he has in place of his heart.

That's when Cisco would show up with his steampunk car, introduced as the first of Barry's allies.

Since the game is heavy on the steampunk, I'd want to keep that as the setting for the series. And the eventual main ship would be Westhallen, though I'm still debating how to introduce Iris. I think it'd be fun to have her be the detective nemesis of Barry's, but that's a bit fuzzy right now and I want to be sure of what Iris' part in the series is before I start writing... for all that she won't show up for a while regardless.

7.) Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

“Oh, honey,” Lisa patted his hand, “you look like you’re gonna cry. I’m a good listener if you need someone to talk to about what’s going on?”

She was the first person to just… touch him like it was no big deal since the lightning struck. Iris always hesitated, always had pity in her eyes. Joe looked guilty, as though he felt he should have protected Barry better. (And he should have; he’d laughed off Barry’s concerns about that damn skylight like everyone else did and now look at him. Barry was never going to be the same again. Scars like these don’t go away over time.) But Lisa didn’t flinch at the sight when he opened the door. Didn’t look him over with disgust. Didn’t make him feel like a freak just for surviving something that left its mark on his skin.

Barry started crying.

~ From Chrysalis

So in this fic series it was important to me that Barry had scars left from the lightning strike. I'd been rewatching some of S3 at the time and I was reminded of how Savitar's scars on the show were part of what marked him as the evil Barry - just some more of the show's casual ableism really. I wanted to write something where Barry had those scars - or similar ones, anyway - and it didn't make him the bad guy.

Once I had that premise, I had to consider what everyone's reactions would be. And that Barry would be pushing away Iris and Joe as much because of their actual reactions to him as well as what Barry was imagining their reactions to him were. Everything always seems worse when your stuck inside your own head, after all, and Barry is very much that here, struggling with the way strangers look at him now and the way he feels about himself when he looks in the mirror.

And then finally I arrived at this scene where Lisa shows up. She's been a bit worried about her shut in neighbor and her concern for him isn't something he can write off as obligation or morbid curiosity. She's just kind when he needs it most. And it was a turning point in accepting himself that Barry needed.

I was really proud of how this fic turned out and that there wound up being more story to tell afterwards. But I think this first one is still my favorite, thanks to the way Lisa and Barry's friendship develops from here.

#kitkatt0430 answers #fic writers meme #40 questions meme for fic writers

[navegandoaciegas]

You think Lee would seize the chance when his wife's niece (not his side of the family) comes to visit? He's never met her, since the family moved out of knockemstiff many years ago. I mean, that beautiful, 21-year-old would look magnificent coming around his fat cock right? It's all he can think about, especially since his wife won't touch him anymore. And that perfect young thing is right under his roof.

changed it to friend’s daughter bc i checked and what you asked for is incest by marriage (at least in my country)

Married men do it better

Summary: You heard from your roommate that no one does it better than married men in their 40s, and you decide to test out her theories on your dad’s best friend (smut, explicit language, typos probably)

You looked like shit under the bright mirror lights of the bathroom, drenched in sweat and sleep deprived. The faucet twisted with a squeak, and you relished in the cold water that soothed your burning cheeks, neck and chest.

The night was restless, like most were when you spent them someplace other than your home or your dorm. You’d tossed and turned for hours in the single bed that the Bodeckers have provided you with, in the room that had been designed to be their child’s but had stayed barren. Then you’d gotten up, and tiptoed to the bathroom, careful not to wake Mrs Bodecker next door or your parents in the guest room downstairs.

You splashed more water on you, sighing in satisfaction. Blindly grabbing a towel on the rack next to you, you patted your face dry, standing straight.

And when you opened your eyes, another pair looked back at you in the mirror.

You jumped in suprise, but the scream that threatened to rip out of your throat was silenced by his rough hand clamping shut your mouth. You still bumped against the sink, rattiling the products on it, but luckily none of them fell to the linoleum floor.

Lee Bodecker stood behind you, so close that for a brief moment you wondered how you hadn’t sensed his presence before.

You knew he’d come look for you, for your sweet words and warm body, like he had all nights since you’d stayed at his place. You’d felt bold, that first night, and palmed his cock through his work uniform while your parents and his wife chatted in the kitchen.

It was easy, riling up a man who hadn’t been touched by his wife in years and hadn’t felt affection or sweet nothings whispered in his ears in even longer. And to be honest, he hadn’t put up much of a fight, too enamored with you, a young, sweet thing, all doe eyed and pouty lips.

You’d heard from your roommate that no one did it better than married men in their forties.

Those frat boys you both fooled around with didn’t even come close, and she’d slept with an older gentleman already, and you couldn’t let her be too smug about the fact that you hadn’t.

You’d have to try it too, and tell her all about it when you’d go back to Denver in August.

Until August, though, you’d let Lee Bodecker have his way with you all night, every night.

“Hush, baby girl,” he chuckled in your ear, eyes boring in yours through the mirror, “don’t wanna go wakin’ daddy dearest, hm? He’d kill us both.”

You shook your head, and giggled in his hand, pressing yourself flush against his chest. His belly was soft and pliant on your back, and underneath it you could feel his thick cock, already hard for you.

He groaned, and tightened the grip on your sides. “Already so eager, you little minx.”

“Always eager for you, Sheriff,” you said in the most sensual voice you could muster.

He didn’t look like the boys on the Varsity team, with his chubby cheeks and double chin, but it didn’t matter to you. You liked men in all shapes and forms but something about Lee’s body made your pussy throb, and your thighs clench.

“Good girl,” he mumbled in your hair, nuzzling his face right behind your ear, “Do you want me, hm? You all hot and bothered thinking about my cock all night? Thinkin’bout how I make your pussy cry for me?”

A whimper almost escaped your lips, and you clenched your thighs, memories of all the things he’d done to you flooding your mind. He’d fucked you harsh, and then soft, and then he’s stuck a thumb in your ass, a place where you’d never though about sticking anything in, and then shoved his cock all up your tight rim.

It hadn’t hurt, surprisingly. Much less than losing your virginity with a dumb teen boy underneath the school’s bleachers.

He’d eaten you out like a starved man, had had you ride his face, and then he’d stuck his cock so far down your throat that you’d almost passed out.

You were a wrecked, sobbing, sticky mess after each encounter.

“Please Sheriff, need you inside me, need your big fuckin’ cock in my cunt.”

He smirked, one hand traveling up to your breast, the other roaming down your thigh. “You got a mouth on you, darl’. Dirty little mouth on a dirty little slut like you,” he hummed, smiling against your skin.

His hands were rough and calloused, and they left shivers behind as they grazed you with gentle touches you wouldn’t expect from a man so big and harsh.

He touched you like you were made of the finest china, and sometimes when your mind wasn’t clouded by lust, you felt sorry for him. You pitied him, all alone in a cold house with a distant wife that you suspected was seeing other men behind his back and that made him sleep on the couch most nights.

You closed your eyes, shoving your bleeding heart in a corner of your mind, focusing on how good his hands felt as the pinched your nipples, how pleasant his lips were on your pulse point.

He bunched your drenched nightgown at your waist, growling when he noticed you weren’t wearing any undergarments. He dipped his fingers in your glistening folds, finding you soaked, leaking for him.

“Always so wet for me, princess, all for me?” he whimpered, rubbing his aching cock on your ass, eyes squeezed shut.

“Only for you, Lee,” you whined, hips rolling against his lenght, desperate to feel him inside you, to have him fill you up with his fat cock.

He played with your clit, rubbing circles on it while he crouched around you and sucked one of your nipples in his mouth. You stared at the scene in the mirror, your body twisted around his, your tits spilling out of your nightgown, the golden band around his fourth finger gleaming in the light.

Your pussy clenched hard around nothing.

“Fuck,” you moaned, bucking your hips behind you to rub the flesh of your ass against his raging hard on, “I can’t wait Lee, I need ya inside me, now.”

Lee chuckled, shoving his pyjamas pants down his thighs, his big, leaking cock standing to attention.

“Won’t even lemme taste you, darl’? That eager, hm?”

“Please,” you whined, spreading your legs apart to give him better access.

He teased you, rubbing his tip through your folds, coating it in your arousal. He slowly pushed himself past your entrance, stretching you with his girth, sheathing himself inside you with a broken moan.

He stilled, giving you time to adjust as you panted and winced.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ big, I’ll never get used to this,” you breathed, slowly circling your hips.

His cock hit all the right spots inside you, sending jolts of electricity down your spine. You felt the pressure build slow but steady in your cunt, as he slowly dragged his cock in and out of your cunt, relishing in the way your walls gripped him.

He clamped a hand over your mouth, shutting your moans up, and kept hammering his hips against your ass, the slapping of the soft flesh of his belly against your back the only sounds in the room.

He hauled one of your legs over his forearm, spreading you even further for him. He hit a new angle, a new nerve that threatened to break the dam in you core.

He thrusted deep inside you, and you watched from the mirror the slow drag of his cock disappearing in and out of your swollen cunt.

He was sweaty and out of breath and judging from the pained look on his face was trying hard to will back his pleasure and his moans.

One wrong move, one loud sound, and you’d wake someone in the house, who’d come check on you. If they did, they’d Lee pounding into you and you enjoying it like the cockdrunk whore you were.

That’s what he liked to remind you, and you nodded, lost in pleasure, feeling the warmth and pressure in your cunt become unbearable.

“Fuck, I can feel you clamp down on me, princess. Wanna feel you cum baby, come all over my fuckin’ cock, I know you can do it.”

He doubled his efforts, rubbing your clit and pummelling inside you.

The thought that your parents could catch you made you dizzy, but the idea of his wife walking in on you pushed you over the edge.

You were glad for the hand on your mouth as you came, screams muffled. You gushed over the sink, and you both watched through lidded eyes the pressure in your cunt snap, knot unraveling, his cock slipping out of you with your release, just in time for him to paint your legs and the floor with his hot spurt.

You were both spent and satisfied, and you turned around, lazily throwing your arms aroud his neck. The kiss you shared was sweet and sated.

He tasted like lemon drops on your tongue.

You pulled back, adjusting the nightgown over your tits.

“My roommate was right,” you hummed, pecking his lips and brushing past him.

“About?” he questioned, brow quirking.

“Married men really do it better..”

He turned around to say something, anything really, but you were gone already, leaving behind the sweet scent of you hair and an enraptured Lee.

-

Sorry for the typos. I’m writing from my phone.

I hope you liked this. Please reblog and leave some feedback. I love reading your comments, and they’re my biggest motivation ⭐️❤️

#lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fanfiction #lee bodecker smut

[borisbubbles]

My favourite Dorian Quotes

Just as an addendum, since my previous didn’t exactly put across the hilarity of Dorian, here are my favourite quotes/conversations/reactions by Dorian Pavus in Dragon Age 3.  Edit 22/01: added a few more because Dorian just keeps giving.  60.  Dorian: Come on Varric, just answer the question. 😣 Varric: My mother didn’t raise any morons, Sparkler. 🙄 Dorian: But you must have an opinion! And you’re a Dwarf! Completely unbiased. Varric: There is no way I’ll answer “Which Inquisition Mage is the best dressed?”, not for all the gold in Orzammar. Vivienne: Also, the answer is obvious. 🙂 59. Dorian: So what's your estimation, Varric? Think we could win? Varric: 😱 You aren't asking me to give odds on our beloved Inquisitor's success?! 😛 Dorian: What would that look like? Three to one? 🤣 Varric: In his favor?  Dorian: After Corypheus pulled an archdemon out of his arse, are you joking? Inquisitor: You would actually bet against me?  Dorian: Now now, if I weren't here, it would be five to one at least. 😘 Inquisitor: I’ll take those odds, actually. 😏 Dorian: This is why I adore him so.  😍 58.  Cassandra: So Bull, about Dorian... Iron Bull: Yep, it’s true. 😁 Dorian: By all means, let’s discuss this all together. 🙄 Cassandra: If you’re both pleased Dorian: He’s happy, I’m happy, everybody’s happy!  Iron Bull: Awww, you’re happy. 😍 Dorian: 😣 Cassandra: 😄 57. You joke! they’ll be writing books about you, boring ones that will get it all wrong. Just you wait!   56.  Iron Bull: Yesss, we’re going to fight the dragon, boss? Oh THIS is gonna be GOOD.  Dorian: You are way too excited about this. 😑

55.  Blackwall: How do you get your hair to do that, Dorian? With magic? Dorian: With proper hygiene and grooming. Maybe the three of you should get acquainted. 🙄 54.  Cole: You’re happier now, Dorian Dorian: Oh is that what this light tingly feeling is? I suppose you’re right. 😏  Cole: Wishing but wondering, wounded and whistful Cole: What if he doesn’t want me after? Dorian: But he did. 😁 Cole: Now you’re smiling. It’s good.  😃 53. Varric: Does this shit make any sense to you? Dorian: Are you referring to the giant gaping hole in the sky, or the creature from a Chantry cautionary tale pretending to be a god? Varric: Either. I’m feeling generous. Dorian: What’s the matter? Some pretender comes along, tears the place down, declares himself king. That’s half of history. Varric: Corypheus is like that drunk uncle who refuses to leave the party? Dorian: Even after he puts a hole in the ceiling. Terribly common.  52.  Sera: You gonna warn me the next time you’re throwing your magic around? Dorian: As long as you’re careful where you shoot all those arrows Sera: You magic me, I’ll put three in your eye! Dorian: 😅 Now we can live together in peace and harmony!  51. Vivienne: Dorian, what did you think of little Sera’s last Red Jenny mission? Dorian: Hmm... I’d call it ‘medium’. 🤔 Vivienne: ‘Medium’, my dear? Dorian: It wasn’t rare, and it certainly wasn’t well done. 😏 50. Cole: Dorian, what is 'a slave'?  Dorian: FESTISBEIUMOCANAVERUM! 😨 Cole: You said I could ask questions! Dorian: I know I did, just... go ask the Inquisitor that one. 49. An optimist! 🤣  such a rare breed, I have stumbled upon a unicorn. 48. Dorian: What I wouldn't give for some proper wine.😫 Vivienne: Skyhold's steward is a sadistic little man who is trying to kill us. 🤢 Dorian: Perhaps he found a bargain he couldn't pass up, on vats of vinegar? 47. Cassandra: Why are you looking at me like that, Dorian? Dorian: I am trying to imagine what you would look like... in a dress.😈 Cassandra: Keep wondering. If my uncle couldn't put me in one, neither shall you. 46. Dorian: How do you want to be remembered, Cassandra? Valiant yet sexy rebel against the status quo? Cassandra: I don't have any control over how I'll be remembered. 🙄 Dorian: Sword raised high, blue scarf dramatically fluttering in the wind, sun rising behind you? Cassandra: Blue scarf?😒 Why would I be wearing such a thing? Dorian: It's a painting, of course! Work with me( It'll be fantastic! 🤗 45. Dorian: Why is it so cold? How do you southerners stand it? Iron Bull: What's the matter? Not enough slaves around to rub your footsies? Dorian: My ‘footsies’ are freezing, thank you! 😒 44.  Blackwall: Dorian, I’d appreciate it if you stopped refering to me as ‘that hairy lummox”.  😠 Dorian: When did I do that? Blackwall: At the tavern, the blacksmith’s, the stable. You said it to the gateguards when we left Skyhold! Dorian: hmm... 🤔 yes, that does sound like me.   🤗 43. Dorian: Watch out where you point that thing! 😡 Iron Bull: Dirty! 😏 Dorian: Vishante kaffas, I meant your weapon! 😡 42. Dorian: What would you say Blackwall's best feature is, Vivienne? Vivienne: His absence, of course. 🙄 Blackwall: I can hear both of you. 😒 41. Dorian: Did you know we are actually related Inquisitor? Inquisitor: We, what? Dorian: Not first cousins or anything. Can you imagine?  Dorian: I however did a bit of digging in my family tree, and somewhere down the netheregions of my line there was also a Trevelyan. Dorian: Perhaps the one who went to Ostwick to establish the branch? I knew we looked so alike for a reason. 😏 Inquisitor: Um, yay?  Dorian: Indeed! 😁 Yay! 40. I’m always nice. 😏 39. Dorian: I don't know if you've heard, but the rumours are that you and I are... intimate. Inquisitor: That's not such a bad thing, isn't it? Dorian: I don't know, is it? Inquisitor: Do you always answer a question with a question? Dorian: Perhaps you would like me to answer in a different fashion? 🤔 Inquisitor:  If you're capable. 😅 Dorian: 😘🥰😚 Dorian: 'If you're capable.' The nonsense you speak. 🤭 38. Dorian: You caught the eye of a young woman in that last village, Blackwall. Blackwall: I'm sure you're mistaken. 😒 Dorian: You're right. She was undoubtedly looking at me.🤭 37. Dorian: Vivienne, I have only the one question - why the Orlesian fixation with masks? Vivienne: It is The Game, darling. You never show the players your true visage. Dorian: A strange custom in a culture where people assassinate each other for putting too much salt in the soup Vivienne: An extra hurdle to be overcome. Fail at The Game, and you die. Dorian: And you people call Tevinter barbaric. 🙄 36. Dorian: You are smiling a great deal these days, Cassandra. 😉 Cassandra: I am not... smiling. 😒 Dorian: Now you're not, but only because I pointed it out to you. Cassandra: I am not a giddy schoolgirl! 😡 Dorian: That would have been easier to believe if you hadn't just blushed. 🤗 35. You’ll be surprised at the credit my tongue gets me, your Reverence.  34. Dorian: Sera, I see you are having fun with your illustruous paramour- Sera: WHAT? 😨 Is it showin'? Dorian: What? NO, oh heavens NO. 🤢 Dorian: I meant to ask if you're enjoying your new relationship. Sera: Then why not just say that? 🙄 Dorian: I did... in words you apparently don't understand. 😑 Sera: What's the point of words you know and others don't? Who'd you say them to? 🙄 Dorian: Letmejustdobothofusafavorandretractthequestion. 😡 Sera: Pity, because we're doing great. That's why I'm following her around with weirdies 🤗 33. It was fun to goad you, Cassandra. You get that knot between your eyes when you're flustered - Ah, look, there it is! Delightful!  🤗 32. Dorian: I half expect my mother to materialize from the crowd to criticise my manners. Inquisitor: Where would we be if you mother we really here? Dorian: Short one mage, after he's been dragged out by his earlobe. Inquisitor: I have a hard deal imagining that. 😅 Dorian: Picture me a young boy of five years then. She certainly always has. 🙄 31. Dorian: 'Official Mage to the Orlesian Court'. Well that sounds exciting. 🙄 Vivienne: It's an esteemed position, darling. One many mages should envy. Dorian: Yes, I suppose being paraded around like an exotic peacock is better than frantically running from templars. 🙃 Vivienne: Better an exotic peacock than one Tevinter rat amongst many. Dorian: Oh? A dig at my homeland? This should be fun. 😏 30. Sera: Dorian? Those words you say. What do they mean? Dorian: What, you mean like mendicant or ultimatum? 🤨 Sera: No, arse, when you're mad. 'Pish-anty cough-ass'. You're swearing, I know it. Dorian: Ah, 'vishante kaffas'. It's Tevene, relics of the old tongue. We still use the colorful phrases. Sera: And it means what? Dorian: Literally? 😏  'You shit on my tongue.' Sera: 😂 Why not just say that?  Dorian: A mystery for the ages.  29. Sera: Demons! Flappy robes! Dorian: Thieves! Dog Stink! Sera: Culty shits! Dorian: Treacherous teyrns! Sera: Wha- It’s not a proper game of ‘Your people are shit” if you just make up words. 🙄 Dorian: A ‘teyrn’ is a Fereldan title, just below that of a king. I thought you of all people would know that. Sera: Well that’s just... I... smartasses 🤬 Dorian: Too late! I believe that’s my round. 🤗 Sera: Piss! 😠 28.  Vivienne: You’re rather amusing, Dorian. Dorian: Your outfit’s entertaining, I’ll give it that.🙄 Vivienne: Pretending to be a shark from a land of sharks. But you’re not a shark and you’ll never be one, darling. They knew this as much as we do.   Dorian: I could have of course pretended, wore fancy clothes, convinced everyone I’m something I’m not.  Dorian: Then I could take a position at court, whore myself out, and desperately hope no one realizes what a fraud I am.  Vivienne: Such snapping for a fish without teeth! 😂 Inquisitor: I cannot believe the way you two speak to each other. 😨 Vivienne: Inquisitor whatever is the matter? We’re having a perfectly civil conversation. Dorian: It’s true. I’ve heard worse from the gardener back home.  27.   Dorian: Varric, you owe me five royals. I’d like them paid in candied dates. 😉 Varric: I haven’t lost that bet yet, Sparkler. Dorian: You said we would be arse-deep in trouble. This is more like knee-high. Varric: I didn’t specify whose ass, did I? 😏 Dorian: Leave it to a dwarf always lowering the bar. 🙄 26. I hope you tried the ham they were serving, by the way. Tasted of despair. Fascinating. 25. Dorian: Vivienne, we can continue this dance forever if you like. Vivienne: Certainly. Provided both of us are capable. Dorian: I mock Orlesian frippery and nonsense, you slam Tevinter decadence and tyrrany. Dorian: There's however something more important we must remember. Vivienne: And what might that just be? 🤨 Dorian: At least we're not Antivan. Vivienne: 🤢 Quite right. Thank the Maker. 🙏 24. Cassandra: You're not as handsome as you think, Dorian. Dorian: Ah, but I must be! Or you wouldn't have been thinking about it all this time.  😏 Cassandra: Anyone who claims it as often as you must be dreadfully concerned they're not. Dorian: Look at this profile - Isn't it incredible? Dorian: I picture it in marble. 😏 Cassandra: 😒 23. Flying cows over Minrathous? Preposterous! Okay that one is actually true, but the cows didn't have wings. 22. Dorian: I have only one question, Sera: did you cut your own hair?  Sera: Yeah. Why wouldn't I? 🙄 Dorian: You could try using something other than a rusty butter knife. Sera: Oh, excuse me while I dig up my diamond-studded hair-cutting whatevers. 🙄 Dorian: Scissors. 😏 The word you're looking for is "scissors." 😏 21. Iron Bull: Quite the stink-eye you've got going, Dorian. Dorian: You stand there, flexing your muscles, huffing like some beast of burden with no thought save conquest. 😡 Iron Bull: That's right. These big muscled hands could tear those robes off while you struggled, helpless in my grip. Iron Bull: I'd pin you down, and as you gripped my horns. Iron Bull: I. Would. Conquer. You. 😏 Dorian: Uh. What? 😨 Iron Bull: Oh. Is that not where we're going? 🤐 Dorian: No. It was very much not.😳 20. You can't call me pampered, Varric. 🙄 Nobody has peeled a grape for me in weeks. 19. Sera: Dorian are you going to warn me the next time you bust out in demons or sumthin? Dorian: 😂 How exactly do you picture me 'busting out’? Dorian: I am just walking along and *OOPS* - demon? Dorian: I mean it could happen, after years of training. You could also trip and impale your eye on an arrow. 😏 Sera: So are you going to warn me or not? 🙄 Dorian: Certainly. But only because you're so dear to me. 😘 18. Dorian: For being so unnerved by magic, you aren't shy about benefiting from its effects.🤔 Sera: I don't. I use normal things, not magic. 🙄 Dorian: You consider swathing yourself in flame or ice 'normal' and 'not magic'? 🤨 Sera: For one: it comes out a bottle. Sera: For two: I mess up, I get burned. You mess up, your head chucks up a demon. Sera: For three: Bottle, little burned, no demons. So there. 🤗 Dorian: That was only... you know, if it lets you sleep at night, never mind. 😒 17. Festis bei umo canaverum! I swear, if you don't come through this, I will kill you. 😖 16. Dorian: The first time I entered the Fade it looked like a lovely castle full of silks and gold. 😍 Dorian: I met a marvellous desire demon as I recall. We chatted and ate grapes before he tried to possess me. 😇   Vivienne: 🙄😒😠😡🤬 Dorian: Yes? I hear your southern Harrowings are slightly more strenuous. 😏 15. What do they call this place? A "bog"? Lovely word for it.  🙄 14. Dorian: Solas, what is this whole look of yours about? Solas: I am sorry? 🙄 Dorian: No, that outfit is sorry.😷 What are you supposed to be, some sort of woodsman? Dorian: Isn't that a Dalish thing? Don't you dislike the Dalish? Or is it some sort of statement? Solas: No. 😠 Dorian: Well, it says "Apostate hobo" to me. 😏 Vivienne: Unwashed apostate hobo, more specifically. 🙂 13. I AM TOO PRETTY TO DIE 😭 12. Dorian: Amatus, it's been so long. Did you miss me? Inquisitor: A little bit. Dorian:  😂 'a little bit' he says. I'll show you a little bit! Just you wait. 😏 11. Dorian: Sera, where do you get your arrows from? You have so many. 🤔 Sera: From your arse. That's where. 🙄  Dorian: My arse should open up a shop. It's apparently quite prolific. 😁 10. Ah, this reminds me of the time Mother took me boating in summer. Or rather, she had the servants take me on the boat while she sat inside with a cool drink.🙄  09. Inquisitor: Things are going well with the Bull, I take it? Dorian: He's glad I've returned, if that's what you mean. Nearly crushed three of my ribs with that ridiculous hug. 🙄 Inquisitor: You say that as if you don't like it. 🤨 Dorian: For such a great beast, he can be such a terrible sap 🙄 Dorian: [bullvoice] "I want to talk about my feelings, Dorian". Dorian: Ugh. 🙄 Inquisitor: 😂 you do like it Dorian: Quiet you! He'll overhear, and then where I'll be?🤫 08. Dorian: Sera, I cannot believe you, of all people, are scared of magic. Surely you can see nothing wrong with a properly used tool? Sera: What about all the mages waving their proper tools in people's faces? Dorian: There's an image. 😁 Sera: "What about Corfyface? How many proper tools does he have under him? Dorian: That's not... I don't think I can continue. 😬 Sera: I don't care how gifted you are, don't cram it where it's not wanted. 😡 Vivienne: Maker, how does she not know? 🙄 07. Just once we should enter a cave and see normal sized spiders. 🙄 06. Cassandra: After all the places we have been, I hardly expected us to find ourselves in another cave. Cassandra: Still, as mad as our lives had been, I would take any chance to be together.  😘 Dorian: Why seeker, after all these years, I never realized you felt this way!! Cassandra: ... Dorian: ... Cassandra: 😒 Dorian: Oh, you meant him. 😶 05. Mountains! 😠 Cold! 😠 "Let's bring Dorian!". 😒 04. Dorian: I heard a little rumour that somebody has been doing some training. As an assassin no less. Inquisitor: I thought the skills might come in handy. Dorian: Yes, I suppose a little flair is welcome, with all the killing you do. Inquisitor: I don't kill that many people. 🙄  Dorian: Are you joking? I'm only surprised you didn't kill someone walking over here. 🤨 03. Cole: Breath painful, stabbing, and then real stabbing, lungs full, frothing, scent of apples as it all goes black. Dorian: 'Death By Applepie' - A lovely poem by our dear friend Cole.  02. Blackwall: Corypheus, one of yours isn't he? Dorian: One of my mine? 🙄  Like a pet? 🙄 Like a giant darkspawn hamster with aspirations of godhood? 🙄 Dorian: "Dorian, why can't you look after your little friends. Corypheus peed on the carpet again". Dorian: In this analogy, 'the carpet' is Haven. 😏 Blackwall: Is he or isn't he a Tevinter magister? 😒 Dorian: Meaning 'the source of everything bad in the world'? They are the same, yes? 😑 Blackwall: Sigh. Feels that way at times. 🙄 01. Inquisitor: No matter what happens, I wouldn't trade the years I spent with you for anything. Inquisitor: I love you. Dorian: I knew you'd break my heart, you bloody bastard. 😭

#Dragon Age #Dragon Age Inquisition #DAI #DA3 #Dragon Age 3 #Dorian #Dorian Pavus #Pavus

[speechlessxx]

In The Rain. (Chris Evans x Reader)

Summary: Can a classic case of miscommunication be solved before the rain puts out the flickering light of love? 

Warnings: trash. lmao. this is better than my radio silence, so... lol... fluffy, angsty (you know the drill)

Word Count: ~2k

The lights flickered for only a second when the bright streaks that painted the sky were followed by deafening claps of thunder that shook your house. The rain was heavy as it pounded against the windows and the harsh winds were no kinder, but they were nothing compared to storm brewing within you.

A deep sigh escaped you as the blanket around your shoulders slipped off and pooled around your waist. You had a warm coffee in one hand and a book in the other while you sat at your reading nook watching the dark sky. It was a collection of poetry with several multicolored Post-It flags sticking out from its pages. Each color represented a feeling a poem elicited, and you found yourself flipping to those with a dark blue flag – the color of sorrow, heartbreak, sadness. In all honesty, it was self-pity.

You weren’t sure why you lingered for so long. Nothing but history and memories were keeping you in his life. The amicable breakup left you detached yet still attached to him. And what made everything worse was that you were still in love with Chris.

The breakup shocked those closest to you. You and Chris were – well … – the most unsuspecting perfect match. You were two completely different souls that balanced one another out. You complemented one another – hell, you completed each other. You were two independent entities that pushed the other to become a better version of themselves. The energy shared between you was radiant and the love was consuming. It was pure and unfiltered. Passionate. You weren’t one to believe in true love – in soulmates, or even twin flames – but then you met Chris and everything changed.

But like all matches – like all flames – they burn out.

You blamed it on anxiety – on expectations. You never had a long-lasting relationship. Chris was the first man you ever felt a true connection to – and that scared you more than you let on.

He was nearing 40 – the ripe age to settle down, to have a family. Although you were certain you wanted that with Chris, you weren’t sure if you wanted that now. Your reluctance had you absentmindedly push him away. You began to untether yourself to him. Untangling the beautiful, strong bond you once had until it was nothing but a single thread.

Although it was you that started to pull away, it was Chris who vocalized his unhappiness. It was Chris who instigated. The night you broke up, he refused to listen to your worries and your reasons for your sudden aloofness. “Do you even love me?” He asked you, but he didn’t wait for a response. You already blamed yourself – and it hurt twice as much when he blamed you, too.

It shocked you when you found out he told friends and family the breakup was mutual… because it was Chris who severed it … The supposedly mutual breakup kept an open door of communication for your families. While your family never bothered Chris or his kin, Scott constantly reached out to you, as well as his mother. They’d often invite you to house parties, dinners, karaoke nights… When you’d decline – finding it was a bit of a territory breach – they’d always claim Chris wouldn’t make an appearance but he always did.

Although you were broken up, you were forced to remain friends. You were forced to look at him across a dining table as if you didn’t know his deepest secrets. You spoke casually as if you never spent late nights unburdening your souls to one another. You acted as if you were friends that were never completely in love with each other.

You remembered the phone call from Scott this morning. He relayed a message from their mom, asking you to come to dinner. When you declined, Scott demanded for a reasonable answer. He often found, “I’m your brother’s ex-girlfriend” a useless excuse.

“I still love him, and it hurts because we’re pretending like we were never together.” Your voice broke. “I’m trying to pull away – trying to move on – but I don’t know if it’s me holding onto hope, or if it’s just....” You couldn’t finish your words – you weren’t sure how to. You felt guilty for confessing this to Chris’s brother of all people. You knew it wouldn’t confidential – that he’d tell Chris – but you just had to say it out loud once.

You heard Scott sigh over the phone. Taking pity on you, he decided it was probably best that you kept your distance from Chris – which was the opposite of the goal of him constantly inviting you out. “A storm’s coming tonight,” he mentioned. “And I know how rain helps calm you.”

But it did anything but that.

-=+=-

Chris had some idea of where it went wrong. The night it all ended, he blamed you. He knew he was in the wrong for that.

The night of his outburst haunted his memories, keeping him up all hours of the night. The image of your tearstained cheeks, reddened eyes, and pure heartbroken expression was burned into his mind. He saw it every time he closed his eyes. He remembered how you barely got a word in because every time you opened your mouth to speak, to reason, to argue, he spoke over you with such a heated, rage-filled tone that he didn’t even recognize.

He was afraid to lose you and because of his own arrogance and stubbornness, that’s exactly what happened.

You were unraveling your bond slowly, tactfully while he tore it to shreds.

And he regretted it every single day.

“Is (Y/N) coming?” He asked as subtly as he could while he and Scott set the table. Scott simply shook his head. Chris placed a plate onto the placemat as thunder shook the house, the glasses rattling slightly. “Do you know what she’s doing tonight?” He asked, trying to stay casual though everyone saw right through it. Scott’s brows were furrowed as if contemplating and his mouth was pressed into a firm line. Knowing him for all his life, Chris knew when his brother was hiding something. “Scott.”

“I can’t tell you!” Scott finally answered. That answer pulled at Chris’s heart – were you with someone? Is that why you weren’t here? “She’s just… she just needs a night.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chris frowned. An upside to this “amicable” breakup was having his family constantly pull you back into their atmosphere. He wasn’t sure if they did it for him (they did), but he was thankful for all the nights you walked into their family home, gracing him with your presence even if you barely spoke. His brother remained silent and Chris called his name again.

“She’s just upset, okay?” Scott revealed. Chris’s frown deepened as he cocked his head to the side in confusion. “She just needs some time to think and heal.”

“What does that mean?”

Scott sighed. “I can’t tell you. She told me not to – Chris… do you plan on getting back together with (Y/N)?”

“Of course.” Chris answered with no hesitation. “I love her.”

“Then, why’d you break up with her?” Scott asked.

The question caught him off guard. Of course, he planned his apology. He planned his dramatic way to woo you back into his arms – to make you fall in love with him again. He didn’t quite know how to execute it – should he have been a cliché with a boombox, calling your name outside your window?

“I… I guess I felt like she was pulling away… and so, I felt like I had to beat her to the punch,” Chris cringed. It was a childish sentiment… But perhaps it was because his ego couldn’t take being broken up with? Or perhaps the thought of losing you clouded his judgement so much and consequently, his fears came true.

Scott scoffed at his brother, rolling his eyes for effect. “You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah and I feel bad about it, but every time I try to talk to her, she closes up.”

“I wonder why.” Chris groaned annoyedly at his younger brother, slapping the palm of his hand to his forehead. “She told me before that she felt as if she didn’t belong with you because you’re ready to start a family and she wasn’t.”

“When she say that?”

“A while ago…” Scott scratched his chin.

“But I don’t… I don’t need a family right this second. I just need her.”

“Does she know that?” Scott asked him. “Because all she knows is that you had enough of her.”

“I didn’t really give her a chance to talk…” Chris confessed. “I just… I kinda just ranted at her.”

Scott sighed disappointedly. “In all honestly, brother, I think you need to have an actual conversation with her… Not just a I’m-gonna-yell-at-you …”

Lightning flashed through the windows as the rain steadily poured. It didn’t look as if it were going to let up any time soon. Chris glanced at the clock. It was early into the evening – if it hadn’t been storming, then the sun would be painting the sky a beautiful orange sunset. Instead it was dark, gloomy – uncertain like your future.

Without much contemplation, Chris rushed out of the dining room, cutting through the kitchen. His mother gasped when he barged through the doors and walked to towards the front. “What are you doing?” She called after him. “Dinner’s almost ready!”

“I’m getting my girlfriend back,” Chris told her. His mother’s worried expression melted into one of pride as she cupped her chest with her hand and gave him an encouraging smile.

“Go get ‘er.”

“Love you, ma,” Chris called before walking out the door and braving through the storm.

-=+=-

The doorbell startled you from your nap. You hadn’t even realized you began to drift to sleep. With little regard about your appearance, you drudged towards the front door, wondering who could be at your house at this hour – especially with a storm like this.

“Chris?” You gasped, eyes widening as your ex-boyfriend was shivering from the rain. He was drenched, standing at your front porch. “Why are you here in the rain?”

“We need to talk.” You felt the blood leave your face. The last time he said those words to you, he left you crying and heartbroken. Thunder rumbled as you stared at him. “Scott told me.”

“Of course he did,” you rolled your eyes with frustration. “Chris, I don’t want to talk –“ You tried to close the door, but he easily overpowered you, keeping it open.

“No, we need to talk about this,” Chris snapped before sighing. “(Y/N),” you always loved the way he said your name. “I don’t want a family right now… I just want you… I just need you.”

You stared at him. Chris was never one to lie. He was terrible at it. His eyes always gave him away. Much like they did tonight when they revealed he was being truthful.

“I’m sorry,” he told you. “I’m sorry I’m an asshole that night. I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you – that I didn’t even try to listen.” He paused, waiting for you to butt in, but you never did. You just stared at him in silence as you processed. “You’re the only one I want to be with… and I understand if that’s not what you want… You can close the door and we’ll pretend this never happened. We can go back to whatever we were… But I’m not going to ignore this.” When you remained silent, he said, “please, please say something.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t truthful,” you finally said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about me doubting myself – that I started to push you away because I was afraid of what a serious relationship with you meant…”

He took a step towards you, hands reaching for you. One hand found its home at your waist, the other cupping your cheek. “It’s not your fault…” He said. “I love you and I always will. Please, take me back.”

“I love you, Chris,” you muttered before your hands wrapped around his neck to pull him towards your lips.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #captain america x reader #captain america #captain america imagine #andy barber x reader #andy barber #andy barber imagine #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysadale

[ultimate-distaster-material]

-Saiouma Oneshots- Kindergarten Teacher! Kokichi x Parent! Shuichi

>Quick Disclaimer< In this story, Monaca is nice- Her legs are actually disabled as well. I tried to mention everyone who is in the actual story's POVS. The adults are 22 whereas the kids are 5. Kirigiri and Shuichi are childhood friends too.

This story is very long, it was made to show my appreciation for all of the support. Sorry it took so long for me to update.

!TW!

Family Issues

Mentions Trauma

Mentions Dead Bodies

kIsSinG (Ok I'll stop)

KOKICHI POV

“So, Nagisa. I heard you’re getting a new caretaker?”

I looked at Nagisa, pitying the poor boy. He never had good parents. They would always force the youngling to work, days over days, sometimes hitting him to help him stay awake. That’s his reason for being very smart at a young age.

I would always stay here with him in the afternoon, occupying him so he doesn’t have to go back home.

“Mhm! I heard he’s a boy, I hope he’s nice!”

I smiled at the small boy. Even with all the despair he has been through during his life, he still had a glimpse of hope resting in his heart. I admired him for this, he was very strong for pulling through all the drama, especially as a child.

“Y’know, I’m gonna miss going here when I grow up. Will I ever see you again?”

“I mean, I could probably get in contact with your new caretaker, and could visit you once in a while…”

“I don’t wanna leave this place…”

I comforted him as his tears threatened to fall from his eyes, tracing random designs on his back, listening to his troubles. I suddenly heard a knock on the door. I energetically got up from my seat, Nagisa following close behind me, and then opened the door.

There was a man with teal blue hair and a detective uniform standing at the door. He looked kinda sexy-

“Hello, Mr. Detective~ You here for something?”

He stared at me before handing me a few slips of paper. Adoption papers? Wha-

“Who are you?”

Nagisa was a little scared, as he was a detective. The poor boy probably thought that the man was here for something serious.

I hushed Nagisa as I pulled him infront of me, giving him a good view of the man.

“My apologies…I’m Shuichi Saihara. Nice to meet you.”

I nodded at him and decided to introduce Nagisa and myself/

“I’m Kokichi Ouma, and this is Nagisa. Judging by the adoption papers, I’m guessing you’re here for Nagisa?”

He nodded and shook the hand I held out to him. He had such a calming voice…

“Are you mean?”

“I promise I’m no-“

“You smell like coffee.

“Wha-“

“Nagisa, it’s not ok to interrupt people y’know.”

Nagisa muttered a small ‘sorry’ to me and the man before getting his bag. He peered up at me with teary eyes. I could tell he didn’t want to go with a new parent, due to trust issues. I sighed and pat him on the head.

“You better take care of him.”

Shuichi smiled at me, reassuring that everything was going to be fine. I held out my phone with my contacts open.

“Phone number?”

I asked him as he took my phone (and ran off with it) and he handed me his, and we both entered each other’s phone number. Nagisa smiled as I showed him my phone, his eyes gleaming with hope and joy. I couldn’t help but smile back at him. Shuichi even grinned at us placing his hands gently on Nagisa’s shoulder. I waved them goodbye as they waved back, Nagisa ranting to Shuichi about me. I’m glad I was able to make him happy. I walked around the small room, arranging everything back into its normal places and counting all the items to see if they were still there. 10 paint brushes, 2 art easels, 20 pencils, 5 paint palettes, 40 books and 7 whiteboard markers. Looks like I’m running low on markers, I’ll grab some in the morning. I smiled and locked the door behind me. I strolled down the street under the glowing sky, showing colours of orange, yellow, red, and peach. I sat calmly at the bus stop, taking off my painting apron and stuffing it into my bag neatly. I placed earplugs into my ears and started playing my favourite playlist.

Soon the bus arrived, squeaking its brakes as it parked into the bus stop. I sighed and planted my feet onto the ground as boarded the bus. It didn’t take long to get home.

||Time Skip Cuz Lazy||

I jingled my keys as I brought them out of my pocket, slotting them into the lock and opening the doors to the kindergarten. I walked in, turning on the fans by a little, and the lights. I began to write whatever was happening onto the big whiteboard and restocked my pens. I smiled as children and parent sprawled into the room, yet keeping an eye out for Nagisa. If he had any new scars or bruises, or darker eyebags, Shuichi won’t be waking up the next day. I waited about five minutes, everyone was here, but the two people I had been waiting for.

Suddenly, the doors swung open, and I spotted Shuichi giving the small child a piggy-back ride. I smiled as they both grinned back at me, Nagisa climbing off the adults back and running over to me.

“Kokichi! You won’t believe it! He let me use his magnifying glass and we went to the park. He even pushed me on the swing! I love my new dad!”

I grinned wider, glad Shuichi was giving him a good treatment. He even said he loved him.

“That’s great Nagisa! I’m grateful that Shuichi has been treating you right.”

Shuichi lovingly hugged Nagisa.

“I better go, or I’ll be late for work! Bye, have a good day you two! I love both of you!”

The young boy I waved goodbye as the detective briskly walked out of the kindergarten building, waving us goodbye, blushing. Wait, he loved both of us…?

||POV Change||

SHUICHI POV

I walked out the door, blushing crazily. I can’t believe I said that. I’m so embarrassed…

I hopped into the car, driving down to the detective agency. When I had first met Kokichi, I thought he looked a little cute, but I just ignored my thoughts. I’ll just tell him I was talking Nagisa and his non-existent imaginary friend…yeah I’ll just do that.

I arrived at the agency, closing the door gently behind me and taking in a deep breath. The aroma of coffee wafted around the area. No wonder I smelt like coffee…According to Nagisa anyways.

“Good morning Mr. Saihara. You looked like you’ve slept well!”

My partner, detective Kirigiri. I grinned at her, starting to tell her about Nagisa. She nodded at me while I spoke, thankful that I finally had something to cheer me up. I had been so busy with work lately that I was so tired to even show much emotion.

“So, Shuichi. We have a new case to work on.”

“Hm? What’s it about?”

“Just a new murder case, the usual.”

I nodded at her getting my file reports organized and ready. She gave me some evidence, suspect reports, reports of the victim and the time and place of the murder.

“It seemed to be planned too…”

I muttered as she passed over a small picture which showed the room.

“Huh?”

I pointed at the picture, spotting a nearly invisible ‘escape route plan’ peeking out of the screen. You could only see half of it though.

“That’s new…”

“Wait…How did you know this wasn’t there? Weren’t you at the crime scene?”

“It was a photo in the victims camera roll. You were correct, I was there, but it seems like the killer needed this to escape.”

“That makes sense.”

“So, the killer must’ve either been scared they would mess up, has a bad memory or had minimum time to figure this out…”

She agreed with me and pointed to the wall again, pointing back to the photo.

“There seems to be something white in the vents that we never checked.”

She stated bluntly while narrowing her eyes to get a better look.

“You’re right! Why didn’t you check the vents though…?”

“Rats.”

“Wha-“

I shrugged it off and looked back at Kyoko, then the picture again. She smirked at me and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“You wanna check it out, don’t you.”

“Kinda-“

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

I followed her out of the building, and we entered the car park, halting to a stop right infront of a shining, neon purple motorcycle. It gleamed in the sunlight and Kyoko continued to smirk at me.

“Chickening out?”

“N-No..”

“Good.”

She grabbed a helmet off the dark purple handlebars and gave it to me, claiming to have a spare one in her bag that she could wear. Which she did.

She hopped onto the motorcycle, gesturing for me to do the same. I gulped and lifted my leg over the seat and sat down, trembling.

“Hold on tight!”

I didn’t hesitate to do exactly as she told me. She revved the engine, and we took off down the road, her purple hair flowing viciously in the wind. I was petrified. We were going veryfast. I gulped as I felt the wind blow in my face. I rested my chin on Kirigiri’s shoulder, avoiding her purple hair flowing into my face as we raced around the city. The city lights were blurred, and people looked like smudge marks. I peered down at the road, barely able to adjust to the distorted white line and concrete. I felt a sickening dizziness, and my head just couldn’t keep up with my blurry surroundings. Yet, I felt like I was in heaven. The glorious wind blowing in my face, the soothing noises of the motorcycle engine, and the feel of Kyoko’s warmth. I closed my eyes, loosing touch with everything around me. I was in my own little world. That was, until I sensed the motorcycle slow to a halt and Kyoko’s small weight lift off the motorcycle. But since I was laying on her, she lifted me up too without realizing, and my body went tumbling forward, Kyoko’s doing the same.

“Sorry…”

I sighed and apologized, staring at the ground. She arose from the ground, dusting off her uniform and patting me delicately on my back.

“No worries, Saihara-Kun. Just be careful next time.”

I nodded as we barged into the murder scene, nobody being there.

“Watch out. We cannot predict anything. Expect the unexpected.”

I remembered her wise words and examined the room, Kirigiri assisting me by lifting me up, since I weighed less, and I unscrewed the vents to see a rat. Great. I sneakily snatched the paper and Kyoko lowered me back down to the ground, peering over my shoulder to see if anything useful was written on the small piece of white paper. It read,

Sorry, my dear friend.

“So, the victim was the culprit’s friend….

“Seems so.”

“Wait, why wasn’t it near the victim then?”

“When we arrived, the fan was on, making it completely possible to blow into the vents, in which the paper could slip through, and the rats could’ve possibly taken it.”

I nodded to show my agreement and we inspected the room a little longer. I spotted her typing on her phone a few moments later, sighing.

“Saihara-Kun.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Are you gonna leave your kid at kindergarten or…”

Shuichi blankly stared down at his wrist, reading the time.

2:12

Nagisa’s kindergarten ended at 2:00. He was over the other side of the city. He would be very late, as they had no car.

“Take my motorcycle. I want to stay a bit longer anyways.”

“Really? Thank you Kirigiri-San!”

I rushed out of the building, grabbing a sleek blue helmet and boarded the motorcycle. The wheels screeched as I raced across the city, my hair spasming in the wind. The motorbike’s wheels whirred as they rolled along the road, forcing the motorbike to drive faster. My hands gripped the handlebars incredibly tight, fearing the vehicle would stir out of control if I didn’t have power over the handlebars.

There it was. The kindergarten. I zoomed towards it, halting to a stop in the parking lot. I rushed inside, panting heavily as Kokichi and Nagisa were staring at me. The small, blue-haired boy ran over, enveloping me in a tight hug. I lovingly hugged back, patting his back in the process.

“Where were you? Parents shouldn’t be late, y’know.”

I gulped and peered up at the kindergarten teacher, mentally scolding myself. I knew I shouldn’t have been late. If it wasn’t for my partner, I would’ve left Nagisa there until I suddenly realized that he wasn’t anywhere nearby.

“Kokichi, don’t blame Dad! He had a really important case today!”

“Alright, just tell me next time.”

I muttered a sorry, and nodded, showing my understanding. The kindergarten teacher walked up to me, swiftly patting Nagisa’s head for a short period of time, then shifted to face me. I gulped, fearing I would get in trouble for not being a ‘good parent’.

“Why’d you call both of us cute.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about-“

“Why.”

I looked to the side, shivering a little and sighing. I soon peered back at him.

“Look..”

My ahoge resembled a deflated balloon. It was deformed, bent at every inch.

“It just slipped out, okay…?”

He looked at me, unamused, rolling his eyes and sighing.

“Totally…”

“Well, Nagisa and I have to go…”

“Alrighty! See you Nagisa!”

“What about me-“

“What about you?”

I rolled my eyes as I watched Kokichi ruffle Nagisa’s hair. He looked down at the boy expectantly.

“Nagisa has wanted to ask you something, but he’s clearly too shy…”

He nudged Nagisa knowingly, as the small boy stuttered out words.

“Well…I was wondering if some of my friends could have a sleepover…I’ve never had one, and…”

There was an awkward silence as my mind scanned over what I had planned next week. Nothing.

“Or not! T-That’s fine t-too!”

He looked sad and embarrassed at the same time, fiddling uneasily with his fingers, making eye contact with the ground.

“No, its fine! I was just trying to remember if I had anything scheduled next week…We can have one!”

Nagisa’s eye lit up, sparkles glimmering in his blue orbs. He shined so brightly as he bounced around the room excitedly. Then I realized something.

“Wait-“

“What?”

Kokichi looked up at me, clearly waiting for an answer.

“How am I gonna get Kyoko’s motorbike back to her-“

“You drove a motorcycle.”

“Yes-“

Kokichi jingled the keys on his short fingers, swaying them from side to side. He stared into my eyes, smiling.

“Want a ride then? I could pack the motorbike in the back of my car and drop it of to ‘whatever her name is’.”

“Kirigiri.”

“Right.”

The three of us strolled out of the kindergarten, after Kokichi had tidied up all the mess and checked up on everything, locking the doors behind us as we exited the building. Hopping into the car, we all drove off down the road, me directing the other adult towards the crime scene. Leaving the car, I unpacked the motorbike as Kokichi and Nagisa followed me in. I shifted to look back at the others.

“Uhm, I don’t think Nagisa should see this…”

“Why?”

I leaned into Kokichi’s ear and whispered to him.

“Dead body.”

He bobbed his head to show his agreement, Nagisa looking back and forth at us, confused. He held an arm infront of Nagisa, restricting him from going further, as I entered the building.

||POV CHANGE||

NAGISA POV

I watched as Dad entered the house, a bit worried. Why couldn’t I go in there? I decided to ask Kokichi.

“Why can’t I go in? What’s even in there?”

“Something you don’t want to see.”

I gave him a look of uncertainty, waiting for Dad to come back. I was a little worried, so I decided to start a conversation.

“I think you like Dad, am I right?”

“He seems pretty nice, probably would be a good friend.”

“No, you like Dad in that way. Not friendship, love.”

His eyes widened as he blushed furiously.

“W-Why would you t-think that, N-Nagisa?”

“So, you do like him.”

“N-No! I don’t!”

I rolled my eyes a little. It was so obvious. The whole time Kokichi and I were waiting for Dad, he was talking about him. Literally the whole time. I remember our conversation, word for word.

||Flashback||

“Alright! Time to go everyone!”

Kokichi opened the doors, the young children flooding out of the kindergarten. He sighed as he looked around after all the young kids were safely returned to their parents.

“Nagisa, where’s Shuichi?”

“He told me he was investigating today, apparently it was really serious!”

“Right…”

Kokichi sat on one of the chairs, relaxing his legs and leaning against the table. I did the same, and looked at him.

“Y’know, Shuichi is kinda hot.”

“Wha-“

“His hair is pretty, don’t you think?”

All I could do is agree. Kokichi peered down at his watch. 2:10. He sighed.

“I’m just going to text him-“

“Don’t.”

“Why not?”

“He never answers when he’s at work…”

Kokichi fiddled the phone in his hands, clearly annoyed. Probably wanted to see Shuichi. Who knows?

“I know someone who does answer their phone though.”

He peered at me and handed me his phone. I cheerfully took it and tried to memorize their number. Typing it in, I quickly added the number to Kokichi’s contacts and texted the person. I had seen their number when Shuichi and Kokichi exchanged phone numbers.

‘Hello, do you know Shuichi Saihara by any chance? If so, do you know where he is?’

‘Yes, Shuichi is my work partner at the detective agency. We are currently investigating together. Who is this?’

‘This is Nagisa, his adoptive son. I’m texting him on my kindergarten teacher’s phone. I just wanted to tell him that kindergarten ended 12 minutes ago.’

‘Thank you Nagisa. I will have Shuichi know. He sure is forgetful.’

‘Thank you! Can I please know your name?’

‘Kyoko. Kyoko Kirigiri.’

‘Wait, how do you know my number?’

‘I memorized it when I saw Shuichi and my teacher exchange numbers. Sorry if that’s creepy or anything…’

‘It’s fine. I have to go now. Goodbye Nagisa!’

‘Bye!’

I turned off the phone, the glowing screen fading into pitch black darkness. I peered at Kokichi, telling him that Shuichi should be here soon.

||Present Time||

We were still waiting for Shuichi when I spotted Kyoko and himself exit the huge building. Kyoko stared at me, grinning slightly.

“Are you Nagisa?”

I nodded as she walked up to me, ruffling my hair playfully, then glaring at Shuichi. I could see him gulp and look away.

“And you are…?”

“I’m Kokichi, Nagisa’s teacher.”

“Nice to meet you.”

They shook hands, smiling at each other joyfully.

||POV CHANGE||

KIRIGIRI POV

I’m a little disappointed in Shuichi if I’m being honest.

Leaving your kid who’s in kindergarten with his teacher?

I mean, me and Shuichi have known each other since we were kids and happened to get into the same agency. I know Shuichi. He is forgetful, but not this forgetful. I mentally facepalmed at his previous actions and shook hands with Kokichi.

Nagisa and Kokichi look like they have a close relationship.

I disconnected our hands, watching as Kokichi signalled for Shuichi to enter the car. The two closed the doors behind them, waiting for Nagisa to say goodbye. The younglings hand reached for the door handle, struggling to open the car door. I went to assist him, just to realise it was locked. Shuichi and Kokichi strained to unlock the doors from the inside.

How did this even happen-

“D-Dad!”

Nagisa panicked as he saw the two people he seemed to be the closest to stuck inside the black and white car. I sighed as I saw the trapped kindergarten teacher flirt with the parent. Shuichi literally looked like his parents were a combination of a tomato and strawberry. I watched them as they continued to flirt together. I mentally facepalmed and refocused on the incident infront of me.

I saw Nagisa’s confused face as he walked up to peer through the window, prying into their business. I gently tapped the window, catching their attention.

“Are you two lovebirds done?”

I yelled from the other side of the window. They both were facing me, furiously blushing. In full honesty, they look like they dyed their faces bright pink.

“I’m going to break the window- “

“NAGISA DON’T- “

Too late. Nagisa had grabbed a rock off the ground and pounded it against the window.

“Really- “

“Sorry I was panicking…”

“It’s fine…”

“I guess we’re driving back with a broken window.”

“I guess they call you a detective for a reason!”

Kokichi laughed at his own joke as Shuichi giggled as well. It was so obvious they liked each other, they were so blind and dense. I could tell they liked each other, yet they were uncertain the other loved them back. I sighed and grabbed my purple helmet, putting the blue one Shuichi used in my sleek black bag.

“I’ll be going now.”

I waved goodbye as I hopped onto the motorbike, smiling as my purple streaks of hair flowed relaxingly behind me as I sped down the road. Out of the corner of my eyes. I could see the Kokichi pull Shuichi into a quick kiss through the car’s windscreen, Nagisa just staring in horror. Poor innocent thing.

-BONUS SCENE-

||TIME SKIP||

||W.O.H SLEEPOVER PLANNING||

||3RD PERSON||

“Hey Nagisa…Hey Jataro…I was thinking, I really want to get away from my parents…Do you know anything I could do?”

Kotoko raised a finger to her chin, in deep thought, looking a little depressed. Jataro looked sad as well.

“I just want to get away from everyone…”

Nagisa peered down, sad from seeing his friends loose hope. Monaca wheeled herself over to join our conversation.

“I just want someone to notice me…”

Masaru sat on the ground soon after, despairful.

“I just want to have a peaceful household…”

Nagisa peered down at the ground, wanting to encourage his friends to be joyful. Sure, he had trauma as well, but there is still happiness. He just began to spit out words of reassurance to his small group of friends.

“Jataro, why would you want to disappear from everyone? We are all here. We want you to be here. What’s that point in leaving everyone if everyone needs you here?”

He peered up at Nagisa, who was staring at him, the boy’s wise words causing a smile to form on his face.

“Monaca, we are your friends We notice you. Stop acting like nobody does, because if you haven’t already guessed, you are our friend. We notice you. Why would I be talking to you if I didn’t know you were here?”

She smiled at the blue haired boy, watching as some of the other kindergarten teachers came over. Komaru, Toko and Nagito stood there, watching their students, along with Kokichi who the whole time had secretly been there, unnoticed.

“Masaru! Kotoko! I think I have a solution to your problems!”

Nagisa shouted as the teachers watched, inspired by the boy’s acts of hope. Nagito especially. Toko had to slap a hand over his mouth so they wouldn’t interrupt the kids. Nagisa thought of the time where he was talking to Kirigiri while saying his goodbyes. She had told him these exact words.

“Shuichi has been so happy since he adopted you, y’know. I’ve been thinking about what my future would be like if I had a child. Say, did you know any that need a better home? I do want more than one though…”

“There is a solution I might have, but I need to check. Also, my Dad agreed on the idea to have a sleepover!”

“Sounds great!”

Everyone cheered in unison as they started planning what they would do, also deciding what snacks to bring. Monaca was spinning in her wheelchair in excitement, Masaru pushing her around in circles while Jataro inspired them to continue. Kotoko and Nagisa were drawing each other with crayons, Kokichi sitting on the other side of the table, spreading conversations.

Soon enough, it was time to go home. They all wished each other goodbye, as Kokichi drove Nagisa back to their house. They parked in the driveway, to see Shuichi waiting for them on their front porch.

“Good afternoon you two! How was your day?”

Kokichi ruffled Nagisa’s hair as he explained his day to Shuichi, also asking if he could tell Kirigiri about what I had found out.

“Ah- Sorry, Kyoko wants to see me. I will tell her the news as well Nagisa.”

“Bye!”

The small boy and Kokichi cheered and waved in unison, watching as Shuichi peered back at them, about to leave.

“Bye! I love both of you. And this time, I mean it.”

#Saiouma #Oumasai #g a y #detective more like defective #h i #danganronpa v3 #ultra despair girls #danganronpa #omg thats so gay wth

[obx-adventures]

Birthday Wishes (JJ Maybank x reader)

Summary: What happens when you realize you have feelings for your best friend?

——

“Dude, what are we watching?” I hear JJ ask as I walk back to the couch. I sit down, curl my legs under me and lean into his side.

“I told you I wanted to watch 28 Days. This is 28 Days”

“Right, but where are the zombies?” I laugh out loud at JJ’s confusion. We’re 40 minutes into the Sandra Bullock movie and I am pretty impressed I was able to trick him for this long.

“That’s 28 Days Later, JJ. This is 28 Days. Remember, it’s the movie I would watch with my mom all the time when I was younger.”

At this, JJ’s face softens. He knows that tomorrow is the 5th anniversary of my mom’s death so he shuts his mouth and puts his arm around me so we can comfortably watch. I feel my eyes start to close as I listen to the comforting sound of JJ’s heart beating. Before I can fall asleep, the porch door slams closed. John B comes in with a look of excitement.

“Guys, I finally did! I kissed Sarah!” JJ can feel me stiffen next to him and gently squeezes my shoulder. He’s the only Pogue I told about my crush on John B and he knows this is going to upset me.

“That’s great, JB” JJ says quietly. “But, Y/N and I are watching this movie. Tell me all about it on our way to the Kook’s tomorrow. What time do we need to leave again?”

I zone out while JJ and John B talk about their landscaping gig on Figure 8 ‪tomorrow morning‬ and try to control my breathing. I do not want to cry in front of JB so I focus on taking 5 deep breaths.

JJ, John B, and I have been best friends since 3rd grade. When my mom died, they were at the hospital with me. Then, after Big John disappeared, JJ and I practically moved in. JJ walked in on me crying in the kitchen one day after John B told us that he was trying to mack on Sarah Cameron. He held me as I cried into his chest and he’s spent the past couple months being my rock. I normally talk to Kie about boys but this one feels a little too personal since it’s JB. The one positive to come from this train wreck is that JJ and I have grown even closer.

“Hey, you ok?” I feel JJ whisper into my ear. I realize that John B has gone to his room. I nod and thank him for saving me from hearing the gory details.

“No problem. I got you, Y/N. I know that tomorrow is going to be rough with your mom stuff, so I plan on coming straight home after this landscaping job. We can go on the boat or watch movies, whatever you want.”

I smile up at my blonde best friend and see the honest concern that is in his eyes. He pulls me into a hug, and we settle back into a comfortable silence while we watch the rest of the movie. I drift asleep feeling grateful to have JJ in my life.

----

The next morning (if you consider ‪1pm‬ morning like I do), I wake up alone on the couch. JJ covered me with a light blanket before leaving with John B. For a moment, I think about going home to see my dad. I know today is hard for him too, but I don’t think I’m the person who can help him through it. He blames me for my mom’s death (I got out of the car accident with only a broken arm and she died 2 days after without ever waking up) and I can’t face the verbal abuse he’d likely dish out today while he drowns his pain in booze.

After going to the bathroom and making myself some coffee, I hear the boys get home. JJ sounds agitated but I can’t tell why from inside. I head out to greet them and try to figure out what’s going on.

“JB! You know today is hard for her. Why would you invite Sarah fucking Cameron over?” I stop in my tracks as I hear JJ scold John B. Before I can move, they come around the porch but don’t see me before John B responds to JJ.

“Dude, I forgot what day it was. But I can’t uninvite Sarah now. She’ll be here in an hour. I’m sure Y/N will be fine with it. It’s not like I’m ditching her.” JJ smacks John B on the chest with the back of his hand as he sees me standing there. John B follows JJ’s eye sight and looks guilty when he sees me.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. If you don’t want Sarah to come over, I’ll call her right now. I just thought that we could all go out on the Pogue and you guys could get to know her.”

Instead of responding, I turn around and go back in the house. I decide the best way to avoid this conversation is to take a shower, so I gather up some clothes from the spare bedroom, but I’m stopped by John B standing in the doorway to the bathroom.

“Please, stop,” John B moves his hands to my shoulders, but I can’t make eye contact with him yet. “I’m a dick, I know. I guess I was just so pumped about kissing her yesterday that I lost track of the days.”

I force myself to look up at him but am saved from responding by Pope and Kie walking into the house.

“Dude! Why is JJ so pissed off? We saw him punch a tree and kick a chair across the yard as we were pulling up.”

I use Pope’s distraction to slip past John B and close the bathroom door. I start to cry as I climb into the shower. But for once, my tears aren’t because of my unrequited feelings. I’m crying in anger (which pisses me off even more) and feeling so let down by John B. He forgot that today was the anniversary of my mom’s death. He fucking forgot! He knows how crippling my Survivor’s Guilt can be and he knows that the best way to help me through it is by all the Pogues being together and doing nothing. Last year we spent the whole day drinking and watching the Harry Potter movies. It just helps being with them and knowing that they are there for me.

I hear the bathroom door open and know that Kie has come in to check on me. I can hide from the boys but never from her.

“Y/N, do you need anything? I finally got John B to tell me what happened. He’s a fucking ass. JJ has calmed down and is worried about you. I told him I would check in but, if you need me to, I’ll kick all of them out and we can have some quiet time.”

“Thanks, Kie,” I respond softly. I don’t bother hiding my sniffles. Kie knows I take showers when I get emotional. “Maybe you can send them on a food run? Tell John B that it’s fine. He can go with Sarah today.”

“Yea, no. After JJ told me what happened, I kinda freaked out on John B until he called Sarah to cancel.” I giggle at the image of Kie towering over John B, most likely with her patented disappointed look and a finger in his face.

“You didn’t have to do that, Kie. If he would rather spend the day with her, it’s fine.”

“Nope. Founding principle, pogues stick together. I’ll send them to get food but I don’t think JJ will leave until he sees you’re ok.”

“Give me 5 minutes. I’ll meet him in the spare room. But only him. I can’t look at John B right now and I’ll spare Pope awkwardly trying to make me feel better.”

Five minutes later, I walk into the spare room and see JJ pacing. His jaw is still clenched and the worried look from last night is back.

“J, I’m ok,” I sit on the bed and pat for JJ to come sit next to me. “How’s your hand? Pope said you punched the tree?” I grabbed his hand and can see his knuckles are red with some broken skin.

“I’m fine, Y/N,” JJ pulls his hand from mine and lifts my chin so he can look at my face. He can see that I’ve been crying and goes to give me a hug.

“JJ, don’t look at me like that. These are angry tears. He fucking forgot!” I can see from JJ’s reaction that he thought I was crying about Sarah. “I just can’t believe him. He can be so fucking self-centered.”

“You aren’t upset that he invited Sarah over?”

“At this point, I want him to go hang out with her,” I can tell I’ve surprised JJ so I try to explain further. “The whole point of this ritual is to be with my family and know that you all are with me because you love me. I don’t want him here out of pity or guilt.”

I’m not expecting JJ’s reaction. He pulls me into a tight hug and I can’t help but wrap my arms around him too.  He whispers into my ear, “I’m here because I love you.”

For reasons I can’t explain, hearing JJ say this and feeling his breathe on my ear causes my stomach to knot up. He sounds so genuine and has packed so much emotion into the hug and statement. We’re startled apart by Kie coming into the bedroom to check on me. JJ gets up and leaves the house to meet the other boys and Kie has a weird look on her face. Once the van leaves, Kie brings me out to the couch. She’s pulled out the emergency stash of ice cream that she and I have hidden in the freezer. When I reach out for the spoon, she pulls it back and I prepare for the interrogation.

“What the hell did I just walk in on?” She quirks up her eyebrow and stares me down.

“Nothing, Kie. JJ was just worried about me.” I try to ignore the increase in my heart rate from the insinuation in her question. What is wrong with me?

“I’ve noticed you guys have been getting closer. Is something going on?” Kie is way too observant. I don’t want to bring someone else into my little drama so I try to play everything off as business as usual.

“No! You know JJ, he says he’s not much of a hugger but we both know that’s an outright lie.” And this is true, at least with the Pogues. We’ve all been through too much together and physical affection has always been part of our dynamic.

“Come on, Y/N, you two are always next to each other and I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Spill!” I’m surprised that Kie thinks JJ looks at me in a different way. But I can’t let myself focus on that too much. I finally decide to cave and bring her up to speed on everything.

“Ok, fine. I’ll tell you everything but only because it doesn’t really matter anymore. But give me the spoon first!” Kie looks smug as she hands over the spoon. After filling Kie in on my crush on John B and JJ’s support, she has a lot of follow up questions.

“Wait, so you’re telling me that you’re crushing on JB right now, not JJ?” I bristle at her statement and realize maybe I wasn’t fully understanding my own feelings.

“Well I was…” I start off tentatively but the gears in my brain are working furiously. “I think today was the smack upside the head I needed. I’ve always thought of John B and I as closer friends than me and JJ but that’s been changing over the past couple months, and not just because of my crush. I guess I was taking for granted how genuine JJ is and how much he cares about his friends. And now I’m even doubting if I was really into JB. I mean, other than you, I’ve never had to share the boys with another girl. So, I thought I had a crush when I got upset about JB and Sarah. But after his dick move this morning, I don’t feel anything like that towards him. I’ve only been into a couple of guys in my life but none have ever gone away like flipping off a light switch. Maybe I was just jealous that I would have to share him with someone other than you… Oh shit, Kie! I should have talked this through with you before!”

“Obviously,” Kie says through a laugh. “But what about JJ? You’re right, he cares a lot about all of us, but I think it’s a little more than that with you.”

Before I can answer, the boys walk into the house. It looks like they robbed a movie theater with all the candy and snacks they are carrying. JJ still doesn’t look like his normal, carefree self. I give him a genuine smile and reach out for his hand. He helps me up and tries to assess how I’m doing. Before he can finish scanning my face, I pull him into a tight hug.

“Thank you, J.” I whisper to him. “You are my absolute best friend and I love you too.” I hear JJ open his mouth to speak, but he doesn’t get a chance to say anything before John B walks over to us.

“Umm, Y/N, can I talk to you for a minute?” John B’s sheepish voice makes me lift my chin from JJ’s shoulder. He lets me go but gently places his hand on my waist to let me know that he’s there for me.

“JB, look, you did a shitty thing,” John B looks down and I can feel the guilt radiating off him. “I wish you didn’t, but I understand that you got caught up in your new relationship. Let’s just move past it, ok?”

“I really am sorry,” John B pulls me into a hug, but JJ doesn’t move his hand from my waist until I wrap my arms around John B too. “I’m here for you today, 100%”

“I know,” I pull back and decide the best option is to bring some lightness back to the group. “And your punishment for being a dick is having to pick the first movie we watch today.”

“Oh, c’mon,” We all laugh at John B’s groan. He knows that picking a movie for the group often leads to mockery and teasing. All of us have different tastes in movies so we frequently fight over what we watch. As I look at the Pogues, I feel the love I so desperately needed today.

----

It’s been two weeks since the anniversary of my mom’s death. I still haven’t been home, and my dad hasn’t even tried to find me. While I know it would be more painful to see him, it still hurts. So, I decide to throw myself into planning JJ’s birthday celebration.

At first, I thought about throwing a kegger at the Boneyard but changed my mind after JJ came back from his house a couple days ago. This time it looked like he escaped without any physical damage, but I could tell from the look in his eyes that he wasn’t unscathed. I decided he needed something smaller with just the people who love him so I’m organizing a full day of Pogues-only fun.

When I told the other Pogues my plan, they all agreed and decided to be responsible for one activity. John B is coordinating a boys fishing trip in the morning followed by a day swimming in the marsh, Kie is planning the barbeque, Pope is using Heyward’s contacts to get some fireworks, and I’m planning the campfire dance party.

“Y/N, I know that we need the colorful fireworks but I think I’m going to get JJ some M80s too so he can blow off some steam,” Pope and I are talking through the details of his portion while he walks me to my shift at the Wreck.

“That’s a great idea, Pope. But you’re the most responsible one in our group so you will need to make sure he doesn’t blow us all up.”

“I can’t promise that,” Pope tells me, getting visibly anxious at the thought. “I mean, it’s JJ and explosives. He’s going to do whatever the hell he wants anyways.”

I laugh with Pope as we walk into the Wreck. I stash my purse under the counter and tie on my apron as he sits down. While I’m not as close with Pope as I am with JJ and John B, he’s still one of my favorite people. He balances the chaos that JJ throws out and is usually able to stop JJ from following through on some of his crazier plans.

“What’s the deal with you two anyway?” I freeze at Pope’s question and wonder if Kie has been planting ideas in his head. My suspicions are confirmed when she comes from behind me with a mischievous look on her face.

“Yea, Y/N, what’s the deal with you and JJ?” She looks smug as she rests her arm on Pope’s shoulder.

“Guys, we aren’t having this conversation. JJ is my best friend. Now shut up and wipe those smirks off your faces, he’s about to walk in”

They turn to look at my blonde best friend and are not surprised when he is only looking at me. I, on the other hand, am frozen in place. I can’t describe the way he’s looking at me or why that look is making me grin like an idiot.

“Hey, Y/N, can I talk to you for a second?”

When I can finally tell my body to move, I nod. Pope and Kie walk back to the office and I don’t miss the glint in Kie’s eye or Pope’s knowing look. JJ takes Pope’s vacated seat at the counter and looks at me seriously.

“Do you want me to tell JB that Sarah can’t come to my birthday thing on Saturday?”

“Is that why you look so worried, JJ?” I place a hand on his and give him a reassuring smile. “There’s no need. John B already told Sarah it’s a Pogues-only day. But even if he did invite her, it wouldn’t upset me. I promise I’m all good.”

I have been trying to convince JJ for the last two weeks that I’m ok with John B and Sarah dating. He obviously doesn’t believe me. I’ve finally come to terms with my growing feelings for JJ but I haven’t decided if I’ll tell him yet. Either way, I need him to understand that I don’t have anything more than friendly feelings towards John B now. If only so he doesn’t keep worrying himself. I decide in the moment that I need to be blunt, at least about John B, so I sit down next to JJ to explain clearly.

“JJ, I realized when everything went down a couple weeks ago that I never actually had a thing for John B,” I pause for a moment and watch as he processes what I said. “You guys are my family and I think I just freaked out at the idea of Sarah interfering in that. John B is my friend, and only my friend. Not my crush. Ok?”

JJ gives me a skeptical look but before he can respond, Kie joins our conversation.

“JJ, she’s being honest with you,” JJ’s eyes widen when he realizes Kie knows what we’re talking about. “I know you think she’s trying to put up a good front so you don’t worry about her, but you actually don’t need to worry. We talked about this while you boys were at the store that day.”

JJ looks back to me for confirmation and looks very relieved when I nod back at him. He also has a different look in his eyes, one that I’ve never seen before. The look from a few minutes ago was more like tunnel vision, he didn’t seem to notice or care about anyone else. This look almost looks hopeful. For a minute I allow myself to think that my best friend may have feelings for me, too. But before I can think about that too much, my dad walks into the Wreck.

“Y/N, where the hell have you been?!”

I look down at my shoes and brace for the fight. I’ve been putting this off too long in the hopes that he’ll forget about me, but it seems like I was wrong. When he reaches me, I have to stop my nose from wrinkling up. He smells like he’s showered with a bottle of tequila. I still can’t bring myself to look him in the eyes so he grabs my chin harshly and pulls my face up. JJ tenses next to me but I reach out to touch his knee before he can do anything.

“You little bitch, I saw the flowers you left at her grave,” my dad growls at me. “I thought I told you never to go see her. You should be the one in that grave instead of her.”

Luckily, Pope saw my dad stumble in and got Kie’s dad from his office. They both approach us, and I can see that Mr C is trying to figure out the best way to defuse this situation.

“Y/N, can you help chop some vegetables before the dinner rush?” Mr C decides to try to avoid a scene. Unfortunately for him, my dad is too drunk to care.

“I’m not done with her yet,” my dad says loudly to Mr C. I can feel the tears brimming in my eyes, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction. He turns back to look at me but still won’t release my chin. “Now you may like whoring it up with those boys but I’m still your father. You will not go see your mother again. It’s the least you can do after killing her.”

Pope stops JJ from jumping up while Mr C gets closer to us. He puts his hand on my dad’s forearm and I can see him applying pressure until my dad lets go of me. Mr C steers my dad out the door and I break down into tears once he’s gone. JJ’s arms find me first but it’s not long before I feel Pope and Kie wrap their arms around us too. Mr C comes back and tells me I don’t need to work today. After a few attempts at telling him I’m ok to work, I nod and let JJ guide me outside. Pope and Kie know that JJ is the best person to comfort me right now, so they hang back while we leave.

JJ gets me back to the Chateau and explains to John B and Sarah what happened. John B gives him the keys to the boat and JJ takes me out to the marsh. By the time I’m fully calmed down, the sun is setting over the ocean and I’m relaxing with JJ’s arms around me. I notice that, during all of that, JJ didn’t need to say anything to make me feel better. Just being with him was enough. We sit there for another hour and enjoy the peace together. Every once in a while, JJ leans down and gives me a kiss along my hairline. Each time he does, I relax further into him. After the last kiss before we head back to the Chateau, I realize that I need to tell him how I feel.

---

We are sitting around the fire, drinking, smoking, and listening to my JJ Birthday Jams playlist. All of us are tired from the day’s activities but it’s the wonderful exhaustion you feel after spending a great day with your people. Pope was right about JJ enjoying the M80s. He was like a kid on Christmas morning when Pope brought out the package of explosives. Kie convinced her mom to make the secret Carrera family potato salad to go with the other food so all of us are stuffed.

But it’s not a birthday without a cake so I decide to go get the one I made before we all are either too drunk/high or asleep. John B opens the door for me so I can bring out the cake and all of us serenade the birthday boy. I sit next to him on the hammock and he’s grinning ear to ear by the end of the song.

“Make a wish, JJ,” I whisper to him and he looks straight into my eyes as he blows out the candle. Kie takes the cake to cut it for us and JB and Pope help her dish it out.

“What did you wish for?” I lean in as I ask him. It’s tradition for me, JJ, and John B to tell each other our birthday wishes so I’m surprised when he shakes his head and won’t make eye contact with me. “But it’s tradition!”

“Maybe later, let’s just enjoy the rest of the day,” he tells me and I’m sensing a sadness that wasn’t there before.

“Alright, JJ,” John B brings over pieces of cake for the three of us. “Let’s hear it. Where does this birthday rank on the list?” This is another tradition we have, ranking our birthdays at the end of the party.

“Solid second place, maybe first,” JJ says as he takes a bite. “Nope, changed my mind, first place. This cake is awesome.”

I smile at the complement and we all fall into a pleasant silence while we eat. After we’re done, Kie, Pope, and John B decide to head in to bed. I put my hand on JJ’s to signal that I want him to stay with me. After they are all inside, I turn my body towards him, and he follows my lead.

“Y/N, everything ok? You just got real serious. Did something happen?”

“It’s ok, J,” I take a deep breath and try to find the courage to tell him how I feel. I open and close my mouth a few times trying to get the right words to come out. I’ve never been shy to talk to JJ so he brings my hand into his to try to settle me.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t be shy. You know you can tell me anything.”

When I meet his eyes, it all clicks for me. This is JJ. My JJ. I could tell him that I murdered someone, and he would offer to help me hide the body. I don’t need to be nervous with him. Even if he doesn’t feel the same, I know we’ll still be best friends. This realization relaxes me and finally gives me the courage to talk.

“JJ, I need to tell you something. But before I do, I need you to know that I’m not expecting you to say anything back. I just need you to know.”

He nods to me in encouragement and gently squeezes my hands.

“You are the most important person in my life. You make me laugh and calm me down. You hold me when you know that no words will make me feel better. You make me feel strong and you support me in everything I do, even if it’s really fucking stupid. Lately, my feelings towards you have been changing. I think I’m falling in love with you.”

I don’t know how I expected him to respond but I was not prepared for silence. He looks dumbstruck and he’s not moving at all. Not even his usual fidgeting. I take a deep breath, kiss his hand that is holding mine, and stand to go inside. Maybe he just needs time to think about what I said? He isn’t normally a careful person but maybe he thinks he needs to be cautious about this. As I start to walk away, he reaches out to grab my hand. When I turn back to him, he puts his hand behind my neck and pulls me into a kiss.

People talk about fireworks when they kiss someone for the first time. But for me it’s like a fire. It starts slow (because I am in shock) and then all at once I feel engulfed in warmth and light. My hands reach up to his face and I feel him sigh into me when I start kissing him back. The kiss is rough and passionate but also emotional and beautiful. My body moves closer to him and I shudder a little when I feel his hand move from the back of my neck down to my lower back. I’m getting lightheaded so I pull away to take a breath and rest my forehead on his.

“This was my birthday wish,” JJ whispers to me.

#jj x reader #outer banks #jj obx #jj x you #jj x y/n #obx netflix #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj obx fic #jj outer banks #jj obx imagine #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction

[arandompostarchive]

Inure - Ch. 3

SAVED WORK

Summary: To some, The Specter is a serial killer. To some, a hero. But to everyone, you were entirely a mystery. You had no history, just a list of victims a mile long. No matter how many people searched your name, they could find anything. If only they had the spelling right. Now, you’ve come across some unfortunate information that drives you out of your usual shadows and into the path of the Avengers. Including two of the more reclusive members of the team. And it’s hard to pick only one of them.

***

You had finally showed up on the doorstep of a long awaited target. You had gotten the tip from a morally questionable FBI agent who really needed a break. Apparently, this target had been leading quite the operation.

Managing drug rings, human trafficking, and murder. Not to mention the amount of people she had killed on her own. Even that sounded like your usual case. A major criminal who you got to take out. Just your average job. Until you looked into her a bit more.

She didn’t just murder. She tortured. All of her victims had gone through days of torture, maybe even weeks. Apparently, even forensics investigators weren’t sure exactly how long these people had to suffer. It made you sick.

“Violet.” You said, rounding the corner. Unlike most of your targets, she had an office of her own. You had caught her at work late, one of the last people there. You didn’t mind people being in the building. There wouldn’t be any gunshots to hear. Maybe a scream or two.

“Yes? Can I help you?” You walked into the room. It was neatly decorated. The token and artifacts around the room were no doubt extremely expensive and probably stolen. Her accent stood out. It was heavy, though her words were still clear. She was certainly European, though you couldn’t remember what country and couldn’t place it from sound alone. “I have things to do so if you wouldn’t mind hurrying?” You walked a bit quicker, trying to avoid her yelling. You didn’t want her making that much noise just yet, it might attract unwanted attention.

You stepped into her office, walking toward her desk. The room smelled like lavender, a candle or two rested on side tables around the room. The smell was heavy, almost nauseating.

“What sort of outfit is that supposed to be? Are you one dressing up?” She gestured to your suit. It was less fancy than most suits you’d seen. Black with a few red accents. It made it easier to blend in and the hood and mask over your mouth helped keep your identity secret. There was a small filter on the side of the mask though, to help you breathe and disguise your voice when you spoke. Not that anyone would recognise you. In fact, you didn’t care much about people knowing your name, but if your face was plastered everywhere you’d never be able to be in public again.

“That’s not important. What is important is you, Ms. Wagner.” You said, your eyes focused on her. Your eyes were clear under the hood as you looked up at her. You were calm. You’d done jobs like this a million times, she wasn’t special. Though, you always appreciated time to exercise your powers. They were destructive and dangerous, so you only used them on the worst of the worst. Those people got locked up in a prison or mental institution, but as long as you were alive, they couldn’t be helped.

“What the hell do you want? Say it quick then get out.” She was short tempered, that was for sure.

“Alright then. You used to work for Hydra, then you got too much for them to handle. You torture and kill, you did this in your old home too. And now, you’ve moved countries to start all over. Not to mention the drug rings you’re tied to,” You said, your voice calm and steady. That was always the most terrifying part for them. You were so collected, sure of yourself. You knew they weren’t going anywhere. And the second they heard your mellow voice, they knew it too.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?! Accusing me of things like that.” She remarked, standing from the large leather chair she sat on. She was clearly nervous though, the slight shake in her voice gave it away. “Get the hell out. Now.” She pointed toward the door. You didn’t move. “I said now. Can’t you hear, bitch?” She said, this time crossing her arms. “I’ll call security.” She said. It wasn’t an empty threat, you could tell, but you weren’t worried.

They wouldn’t get here in time anyway.

You focused on her. Her mind. What she was thinking, what she felt, anything about her. Then you heard it.

“Who does she think she is? March in here like she owns the place. Pathetic.”

Her thoughts. You focused harder. This time on her fears. Everything she regretted, everything she hated, things she was scared of. You found every last one of the monsters in her closet. And then you made them real.

She looked left and right, probably hallucinating something awful. You could never completely see what you created, unless it was an illusion, but you could usually guess what was happening based on what they said.

“Mother?” She asked. She was only staring at a wall, a painting of flowers hung on it along with other paintings she had collected. The look on her face was horrified. You wondered what the story was there.

It was an ability you’d had since you were young, though it was much weaker before you ‘died’. Now, it was one of your most useful skills.

“Stop! Dear god, stop, please. Fuck. Please!” She said. There were tears forming in her eyes already and her voice was cracking. She looked up at you. “You! What did you do to me? What the hell did you do?!” She continued yelling at you but eventually her words became jumbled, the occasional scream cutting in. She’d glance from side to side occasionally before squeezing her eyes shut and looking down. They always acted like that. Strong, determined to stop you, then reduced to nothing but mumbling husks.

You focused on yourself now, this time disguising yourself with an illusion. Another woman walked into the office. Her skirt was short, though professional and you could see a red collared sweater tied around her hips. You’d left the door half open, her screams could be heard down the hallway, so it wasn’t a huge surprise to see someone else come in.

“Miss Wagner?” The woman said. She looked like a college intern, twenty years old at maximum. “Oh my god.” She walked toward the desk until she spotted the broken woman. Violet’s artificial tan didn’t help how pale her face had become. Her legs had given out and now her arms were struggling to support her as she sat on the ground, tears running down her face. She was mumbling things about her mother, father, and ‘the children’, which you suspected were the ones she tortured. Hm. Maybe she did feel some guilt about that. She’d glance back to where you stood. You made sure she could see you, though the intern was oblivious to your presence.

“Miss Wagner? Miss Wagner? Are you alright?” The girl asked, clearly unsure what to do. Violet didn’t respond. She continued staring down at the floor, mumbling and sweating. “Violet?” The girl tried using the woman’s first name instead. She flinched back like she was expecting some huge outburst. Her employees must be treated poorly as well.

“I-I…” the girl paused. It seemed like she didn’t want to help the crying woman on the floor. You figured Violet wasn’t a very nice boss. The girl shook her head a bit, standing up. She took a deep breath before speaking with confidence, “I’m going to call an ambulance. I’ll be back, I promise.” She ran off, back to her desk presumably to make the call. You nodded, appreciating her morals to do the right thing for an awful person. Sadly, you didn’t live by the same rules. You could hear her talking to someone as you made your way over to Violet.

“Awe, darling.” You lifted up her chin with your fingers. You met her eyes. They were filled with pure terror and they kept glancing over your shoulder. You laughed at her. The ways her eyes seemed unable to focus and how clammy her face felt.

“Please…” She started. “I can’t live like this, at least kill me. I understand. I’ve learned. Is that what you want? Learning?” You shook your head. Of course she tries now. Now that you’re torturing her like she once did to others and now she wants to ‘learn her lesson’?

“No. That’s not what I want. I want you to rot somewhere. And maybe someone out there, someone much nicer than me, will take pity. And kill you.” Your hand left her chin and she was left, crying out for as long as the strain in her voice would let her.

***

The next few days consisted of mostly theorizing with the team. Besides that, you and Loki had your own two person ‘book club’ and you learned about some new weapons with Bucky. He had an appreciation for the development in weaponry over the past decades and you didn’t mind learning with him. It also turned out the two of them were friends, so the three of you sometimes had lunch together, though you preferred having one on one time with either of them.

The rest of the team was anxious to find the new SPECTR machine as soon as possible and get you out of their house, not that you could blame them. A very small part of you didn’t want it to end that quickly though. You hadn’t had a real home since the 40’s and before you died you spent all your time in a military camp or in a science lab. That, and you had real friends, well, as close to ‘real friends’ as you’d had in decades. Of course, it helped that they were both extremely attractive, but hey. No one could blame you for that train of thought.

Most of the team still wasn’t happy to have you with them. Though it felt bad to be on the outside, you were used to it. If you had it your way, you never would’ve come there at all, but there were lives on the line and you really needed immunity.

“Everything alright?” Bucky asked as he adjusted the tape over his hands. The two of you had tried out sparing since you could take one hell of a hit so he was free to use his metal arm on you. He had even consented to letting you study it for an hour or two. The two of you got along well and both he and Loki had moved up from the position of ‘not-enemy’ to ‘associate’, though it wasn’t much of a leap. You were hardly ready to trust them, it had only been a few days.

“Just fine. Whenever you’re ready, Barnes.” You said, tossing aside your sweatshirt as you stood across from Bucky. You readied your stance and waited for him to say the word.

“Go.” You took a step forward but Bucky rushed toward you, taking a swing with his metal arm. You knew he appreciated an opponent who could take a hit from a weapon like that, though it took some convincing for him to go all out. You were certain he still wasn’t using 100% of his strength, but it was a start. You ducked, sliding next to him before getting up on one knee and taking a jab at his leg. He stumbled a bit, but stayed standing. Although it wasn’t as effective as you hoped, it gave you time to stand without interruption.

The second he turned to face you, you punched him in the chest, sending him back a bit. He stepped forward and swung his leg into your side, making you stumble too. You kept your hand out to help you balance. You lowered yourself and swiped under his legs. He tripped, but caught himself with his flesh arm. You stood up, jumping back.

He stood again, rushing toward you, metal fist raised. You caught his punch and you could feel the sting against your hand. You were definitely going to have a bruise or two after this. You threw his hand aside, setting him off balance and kicked into his side. He landed on his stomach with a small thud and you kept your foot against his back and kneeled down, arm held against the back of his neck.

“Not bad.” He said, you stood and helped him up.

“Same to you.” You nodded as a small sign of respect. “I’m going to take a shower, I’ll need it before the rest of your group calls some sort of meeting.” You rolled your eyes and Bucky nodded. You could tell he didn’t really like you making fun of his ‘team’, but he never said much. It made you feel a bit bad, but on the other hand, the do-gooders were about as annoying as it gets.

The elevator felt slower than normal, though it was probably just the uncomfortable feeling of sweat on your skin. You stepped out onto your floor. You shared it with Clint and Natasha, probably so they could keep an eye on you. You didn’t mind too much, Clint wasn’t too bad and you had a certain amount of respect for Natasha. She used to have a similar career to you after all. She’d made her way onto your radar for a while, though there were bigger fish to fry and SHIELD was already on her tail. Still, you’d much rather be alone.

You were about to open the door leading to your room when you sensed something was off. Your abilities were helpful in your line of work. Sensing other people had become a skill of yours and right now, something was wrong.

You were on high alert, though you knew it was probably just a team member. You opened the door slowly, prepared to fight if need be. Instead, Natasha sat on your couch, cleaning some of her guns.

The weapons didn’t bother you too much. They were all disassembled for cleaning, the magazines sitting on the table, completely empty. You were sure she’d done that part on purpose, just so you’d know she wasn’t here for a fight, but she’d fight back if need be.

You walked often to your makeshift kitchen and pulled out a bottle of vodka. Whiskey was more your thing, but you’d make do with what you had. You poured a full glass, not caring much for how you were ‘supposed’ to pour it, Natasha was silent the whole time, waiting for you to come over to her.

You moved toward the couch and sat next to her, waiting for her to talk.

“Good to see you again.” She said, not looking away from her weapons. You smiled, taking a large sip of your drink. It burned a bit in your throat, though it wasn’t anything new.

“I’m glad you cleaned up your act.” You said, not offering her any greeting. You could see her smile.

“Why did you let me go that day?” She asked, this time looking up at you. She looked genuinely curious. She didn’t waste any time getting to the point, huh?

“You were finally on the right path. After spending so long killing who you were told to, Clint got you where you were supposed to be.”

She shook her head, not quite understanding. “I was about to kill him. That target, I was going to kill him, I did kill him, and you walked away and left him with me. Why.”

You relaxed against the couch, realizing your shower would have to wait a little longer. “He deserved it. SHIELD was right to send you after him, his death saved lives. I was just making sure you were staying on task. And staying on the right side of the tracks. So to speak.” You took another long sip, hoping you’d feel the effects sooner rather than later.

“You were watching me?” She asked. You were a bit surprised. Natasha was a talented assassin, someone capable and good at protecting herself. Though you doubted that she would know it was you, you did think she’d figure out that someone was watching her. It gave you a small confidence boost.

“I watch a lot of people, Natasha. I like making sure that people in powerful positions really want what’s best for society. Sometimes, they become a target.” You took another gulp of your drink, slightly anxious to finish it as quickly as possible. “Like that Stark.” Natasha began putting a few of her guns back together and into a small black bag next to her.

“Stark was a target?”

You shook your head. “No, but he was on my watch list. His dad wasn’t my favorite guy and for a while he made some rather destructive weapons. I had to make sure he wouldn’t turn into some power-crazed nut job.”

Natasha laughed a bit, “Yeah, pretty sure he did that anyway.” You laughed. Making fun of a Stark was something you did with Peggy. It felt familiar. Sitting down with ‘the other woman on the team’ and having a chat about your friends. Familiar, but not the same.

“Tell me, if I hadn’t been doing the right thing, if I had let him go or left him alive, would you have killed me?” You didn’t pause, you knew your answer.

“Without a second thought.” You took another sip, this one longer than your previous ones. Natasha nodded, understanding. Of all the people in the tower, she was probably the one who would understand most.

She finished up cleaning another gun before Friday’s voice was heard in your room. Great.

“Spectr, Miss Romanoff, you’re wanted in the meeting room. There’s been a robbery.”

You downed the rest of your drink, ignoring the burn in your throat. Natasha gave you a slight side glance, probably worried for your health. Not that it was a real concern for you anymore.

“Uh… do you guys usually answer robberies?” You asked, setting down the glass. Natasha grabbed her bag, bringing it with her out of the room.

“No, there’s something else to this.” You nodded, accepting her answer. You internally groaned at the feeling of sweat still on you. At this point, you’d even settle for a five minute shower. You ran to your room quickly, pulling off the tank top you were wearing and grabbing a t-shirt. At least you wouldn’t have to wear a soaked shirt. It was just you and Natasha in the elevator in silence. It wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t a situation you wanted to be in.

The room was almost completely full, though Wanda and Vision were right behind you. You took a seat toward the end of the table next to Steve. You were sure they put you there just in case someone needed to knock you out in a worst case scenario, though you didn’t care.

Steve set down a few papers just as Wanda sat down.

“Alright, everyone’s here.” He pulled his seat closer to the table. “There was a robbery earlier today.”

“What, did some kid swipe a candy bar? How is this our problem.” Tony asked. He was wearing sunglasses despite being indoors. Though the normal assumption would be that he just came inside, you somehow doubted that.

“Not exactly. The focus is what was stolen. It was at a nearby museum, the owners themselves weren’t sure what it was since it didn’t have any sort of identification. Just that it was World War II memorabilia.”

“Oh I see, someone took your old helmet?” Tony said, interrupting again. Your eyes narrowed. You were getting annoyed with his constant comments, though the rest of the group seemed unbothered. That, or they had grown used to his obnoxious personality. You saw Loki’s face shift though, so he was probably feeling similar emotions to yours.

“The owners said it was part of an unfinished project, we think it might be a piece of Project SPECTR.” A few eyes turned toward you, including Steve’s. “Do you recognize this?” He asked, setting a photo down in front of you. It was most certainly a piece of your machinery.

“It’s what we used to stabilize our core. I built it forever ago just tinkering with supplies, no blueprints. It’s one of a kind. I doubt I could remake it myself.”

“Well, that explains why it was robbed.” Natasha said, just loud enough for the few people around her to hear. You were seated next to Loki on the end of the table. Bucky was across from you and avoiding your eye-contact, which is what he usually did during meetings.

“So, what now?” A man asked. You now knew him as Sam, or ‘The Falcon’, the other bird-themed hero.

“We find anything else we can.” You said, choosing to look at Steve. It felt odd talking to a room, so you tried to focus on one person instead. You were used to creating plans by yourself, not brainstorming with a group. “I left plenty of materials and blueprints behind. I never got a chance to examine why it malfunctioned, but I’m sure a good percent of the original machine is usable.”

“So, where is it?” Clint asked, contributing to the discussion.

“Well, it’s been almost 70 years so I have no idea. Didn’t have a reason to keep track of all that junk.” Steve nodded, though some of the group sighed out loud.

“Let’s check the site and see what else turns up. We hardly need the whole group for this, though.”

***

Steve had sent a group of only a few people. Natasha, who was acting as the temporary leader. Loki, who could use magic to help track down people with any evidence left behind. Steve had been against sending Loki since he was technically still confined to the compound with the exception of missions. Natasha however argued that this was a mission and that Loki would be a useful team member. Of course, she was right, so he was along with the group.

He had also sent Clint and Bucky along, more to act as guards while you, Loki, and Nat looked around the area. The police had done their job and found any evidence left behind, though Loki was trying to use magic to find anything else. So far, no luck.

The group of you were talking to one of Fury’s remaining agents at the site. SHIELD may have disbanded, but Fury still had quite a few people on his side. Some of which apparently still helped him out now and then. It was like a much smaller version of SHIELD.

“Best we got is some DNA evidence. We matched it in our system, according to the evidence, he was one of us, back when we were active.”

You were a bit confused. “An agent?” Natasha asked, sharing your confusion. You masked it better than her though, it was probably because she was more familiar with the former agent in front of you than you were.

The woman nodded, showing you her screen, a picture of an average looking 30-something year old guy looking rather bored in the picture.. “Jackson Hastings. Odd thing is, he went missing on a mission a while ago. Hasn’t been seen since.” Natasha took the tablet screen from her and you looked over her shoulder.

“Holy shit.” The group looked at you.

“You know him?” Natasha asked curiously.

“He was one of my targets.” You said, sure of yourself. He was a corrupt member of SHIELD. It was before SHIELD completely dismantled. You couldn’t prove that he was connected to Hydra in any way, though you had your suspicions.

“You’re sure?” She asked and you nodded in response. “Let’s head back, I think this is about as much evidence as we’re getting.” The group agreed and you thanked the woman on your way out.

***

“And you’re positive you targeted this man?” Steve asked, staring you down.

“Very. I don’t forget targets.” Besides, Hastings was a case you would remember. Fury had sent you a file or two himself, not that he’d admit it, including this one. He couldn’t prove Hastings was guilty. He knew you’d kill him if he was, but he didn’t have much of a choice. Hastings had access to files that could end important operations and expose several undercover agents. So, you just ‘happened’ to run into Hastings’ file. Sure enough, he was more than guilty.

“Some of your targets are still alive, right?” Clint asked and you nodded.

“Wait, so you just let some of these guys go? What, were they suddenly innocent?” Tony asked. Though his tone was sarcastic, the question was genuine so you decided to answer.

“Innocent? Hardly. But life holds things much worse than death. Much worse.” The group tried to ignore that statement, though you could see curiosity written over their faces.

“Is he one of them? The alive targets, I mean.” Steve asked, getting back to the topic at hand.

“No, he didn’t deserve punishment that bad. He’s only dead.” Hastings was one of the more straightforward cases. In any court, the way you got your proof wouldn’t be admissible. In fact, you’d probably get arrested too. That’s why you’d turned into judge, jury, and executioner.

“Alright. So, a dead man walks into a museum. Sounds like the set up to a shitty joke.” Tony remarked under his breath, though most of the table was able to hear the comment.

“If you killed him when he went on that mission, then he’s been dead for years. Now, he’s able to steal a highly guarded museum item but leaves behind blood?” Natasha said, posing the question to the group.

“Clearly, it’s not impossible for people to come back from the dead. I mean…” Tony gestured to you, Bucky, Steve, and Loki on your side of the table. Though your situations were wildly different, Stark did have a point. All of you had been labelled ‘dead’ at one point or another.

“Well, our cases are different, don’t you think?” Loki asked, actually contributing to the conversation. You were certain that was the first time you had heard him speak in a meeting. “The Sergeant, the Captain and I were never really dead in the first place.” You heard Thor grumble something on Loki’s other side, though you were unable to make out his words.

“I’m definitely an exception,” You continued, “but it took me about 50 years and a huge malfunctioning healing machine. Considering the fact that he’s trying to build SPECTR, I doubt he died the same way.” You concluded landing the group, once again, on ground zero.

“Okay, so no more zombies. What’s going on then? You sure you killed him?” Tony said, the last part directed at you.

“Certain. His head was very much detached.” You didn’t share too many of the details since the group never seemed to like that, but you had to slip in the occasional dark joke. Ask a psychopathic serial killer to join your team and you’re inviting in murder-based comedy.

“Alright. Any other ideas?” Tony asked, slightly disturbed.

“What if we have a shapeshifter? A dead man is a good disguise for a robbery, no?” Wanda asked in her accent. Her voice was pretty and the accent certainly helped. You wanted her to read something to you while you intently listened on, enjoying the sound. You did your best to stay focused though and thought over her question. The other scientists of the room looked like they were doing the same. Finally, you found a bit of a flaw.

“Down to the molecular level? Even after the material has left his body? Is that possible?” You questioned. A shapeshifting person was incredible on it’s own, now they can manipulate their form even when not connected to the DNA. A fascinating person indeed. In any other situation, you’d be itching to meet them. Maybe study them for a few hours. But this didn’t seem like the kind of guy who just wanted to have a chat.

Clint shrugged. “I’ve seen weirder.”

He did have a point. After all, you were sitting between a superhuman soldier who had supposedly died 70 years ago and a Norse god, things had changed since the 40s. Not to mention the fact that you were essentially a psychic zombie.

“So, what do we do now? Wait for the next robbery? If it is a shapeshifter, which is only a theory by the way, we have no way of finding anyone.”

Steve looked around, seeing if anyone had any ideas. When no one spoke up, he sighed. “Then I guess we wait.”

***

You walked out of the meeting with way more questions than you’d hoped to have. You made your way upstairs and finally took a decent shower and sat down with a proper glass of whiskey. You weren’t even sure if you’d drank water while you were at the tower. Not that you really needed it.

The TV was playing some new show you weren’t familiar with. You didn’t get any of the ‘comedic’ references, nor did you understand the plot, but you were too lazy to search for something else.

There was a soft knock on your door. You groaned a bit, not wanting to answer.

“What do you want?” You yelled, loud enough so the person on the other side could hear you from your couch.

“It’s me.” You recognized the accent and sighed, getting up without bothering to pause the TV. You opened the door, waving the person in and sitting back down, taking another long sip of your drink.

“I’m fairly certain drinking that much is bad for you.” Loki said in a joking manner. He didn’t get to do that too often. Everyone assumed there was some malintent behind the joke.

“It’s not exactly gonna kill me.” You sat back, finally grabbing the remote to find something more interesting.

“Still, I can’t imagine it being good for you. Maybe try something else?” He suggested calmly.

You rolled your eyes a bit. He may have been more fun than the other caped crusaders, but he was hardly close enough to give you health advice.

“What do you want.” You didn’t look at him.

He sighed, accepting that he wasn’t going to get a better answer than that. “You said that life holds things worse than death.”

When he didn’t continue, you responded. “Yeah. And?”

“What did you mean?”

You didn’t really want to have this conversation. The team already thought you were horrifying, talking about your abilities certainly wouldn’t help.

“Sometimes it’s better to just die than live in torture, that’s what I mean.” It wasn’t exactly an answer, but it was sort of true. That’s close enough, right?

He considered this. “So the people you leave alive, they’re worse than the dead ones?” You nodded.

“Yup. Are we done with this conversation now? I’ve got 70 years worth of movies to watch.” You flipped through more channels to find something tolerable.

Loki looked like he had something else to say, you were certain there was something else. “Yes, that’s fine.” He stood up, walking slowly. Though you were sure why, you thought it was because he was having some sort of inner debate.

He turned around and opened his mouth, but you spoke first. “Yes, you can stay. Grab some chips while you’re up though, I’ll find something decent.” He smiled a bit. He never really asked to stay, he just waited to be invited. You didn’t really mind, he was good company. And quiet for the most part.

For once, you didn’t mind spending extra time with someone.

#loki x reader #loki #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #loki x reader x bucky #inure #saved work #fanfic

[myblueeyedbuggers]

My Boys

Chapter 2

Chapter 1 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7  Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11  Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Pairings: Reader x Steve Rogers (Platonic) Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 1918

Warnings: Language, A tiny bit of Angst

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.

So, Hi again, I know I said that the next chapter would be shorter but I kinda got carried away with the story, hopefully you guys don’t mind XD As mentioned before All requests and imagines are open, any constructive criticism is welcome. Enjoy Everyone! (I just noticed I linked the wrong page for Chapter 1, not a very good tech student am I? XD)

A few days later-

The right side of my face felt like it was on fire, a constant ache reminding me of what happens when I fail my task, boss handed my ass to me in more ways then one. The damn beatings from the boys made me too weak to stop the bastard named Greg from running off and calling the police, the dick decided to hand himself in instead of spending time with yours truly, which in all honesty is understandable, any sane person would turn and leg it away from a small lass looking like she went 5 rounds with a bear.

Perhaps walking around in the middle of the day isn’t the best idea when your face looks like the rear end of a smashed-up truck, people were stopping and staring at me, it was really doing miracles for my self-esteem (Notice my sarcasm there). I’d already managed to screw up this “mission” anyway, staying undetected with a face like this is nearly impossible, my decision of winging it this morning coming back to bite me in the ass within the first 5 minutes out the house. Safe to I was royally buggered, both literally and figuratively.

My mind was buzzing with different techniques and plans I needed to get the next target, maybe I could break into his house and dig up some dirt on this guy, from what I’ve been told that should be easy considering the dirt bag’s cheating on his wife with the maid from the apartment be- whatever train of thought I had was completed obliterated, somehow my ass hand ended up on the floor. Again. Irritation flooded my veins, whoever did better be ready to dig themselves an early grave, looking up my eyes made contact with the one person who I wished to never see again. Bucky f**king Barnes. “Why is it every time I see you, you’ve somehow managed to piss me off? Is that how you greet everyone or am I just that Special?”, I was met with silence. Not unnerving at all, glancing at him I noticed he was staring at my face with wide eyes, immediately I pulled myself from the floor and ran like hell in the opposite direction.

 This is not an ideal situation, to anyone else it’d look like I was running for the bus, when I was actually running for my life, “y/n! stop!” like that’s gonna bloody happen ya moron there’s a flipping reason I’m running, cause I ain’t doing it for fun!I already know I’m gonna regret doing this, my feet changed direction and guided my body down a small but familiar ginnel, two lefts and a right later I was approaching a wall, adrenaline was rushing through my body as I launched myself at the wall. Surprisingly I didn’t faceplant and managed to get a hold of the top of the wall, the lower half of my body erupted in sharp pains, but I needed to ignore them, quickly pulling myself up and leaping off to the other side. As soon as my feet touched the floor I was off, I didn’t really wanna know if Bucky saw what I did or where I went, I might not like the guy, but he doesn’t need to get tangled up in with a hopeless case like me.

Once I was certain that I’d lost him, I crouched down behind some bins and attempted, key word attempted, to catch my breath. I’ll admit that was way too close, anyway why does he care? I was and still am being a complete dick to him, does he not get the hit that I’m not his number one fan? Eh, when’ve I cared?  it’s just me against this bullshit world and I’m pretty sure that ain’t gonna change anytime soon. Now fully recovered, I emerged from my hidey hole and… walked right into Bucky. “What the Hell?! Are you some form of f**cking ninja or something, did you not get that don’t wanna talk or do I need to give you a formal letter?!”, he just stared at me with raised eyebrows and let me finish my rant, cocky bugger.

 “You done running now? Wanna try telling me who the hell did this?”, okay who the hell crapped him is cereal? “Nobody, I simply fell of a bike earlier on this week avoiding the village idiot”, giving me, an incredulous look Bucky sighed and covered his face in exasperation. Seeing an opportunity to get away, I slowly started edging away and to be fair, I nearly got past him before he grabbed my arm, “do you really expect me to believe that y/n?”.

The glare I sent him could have made Satan himself piss his pants, but Bucky didn’t even flinch much to my frustration, “Believe it, don’t believe it all in all I couldn’t give a shit, now let go of my arm before I rip it off “I’m pretty sure I just growled at him. And of course, the dick does the opposite and tightens his grip on my arm, wait is he dragging me?! The hell! do I look like dog on a leash? “Fine then don’t tell me, but you’re coming to my house to get cleaned up” his tone was final and left no room for arguments, but it’s me, when have I ever backed down from a challenge? “Nope, nah, not happening I can take care of myself thank you very much, now I’ll ask you one last time. Let. Go. Of. My. Arm.”

My voice held so much spite, I hardly recognised it as my own, “No” and with that he picked me up, ignoring my protests, and started carry me to his home

.-40 minutes later

How the hell Bucky managed to carry me for this long, I have no idea, for a lad of 14 he’s impressively strong and that’s the annoying thing, I’ve been trying to get off him for the past 40 minutes and even my hardest punches and kicks just seemed to tickle him. At one point he even started laughing at my threats, which added to my burning rage, the urge to smack this cocky son of a gun was hard to contain at this point. I’ve no idea what neighbourhood were in, it resembled a perfect suburban hub, the ideal place to settle down and raise a family, I wonder what it’s be like to be apart of a fully functioning family coming home to people who loved you…it must be nice. 

 Unknown to Bucky, a single tear slid down my face, my heart longing for a family to call my own, but that’d never happen, hell according to my parents I wasn’t even supposed to exist, by the time my mother realised she was pregnant it was too late to get an abortion. I was a curse that ruined their lives and their relationship, I’ve got the scars to prove how much of a waste of space I am, “You okay back there? You’ve been quite for more than two minutes” Bucky’s voice cut through my thoughts, for a minute I’d forgotten where I was. Okay that’s enough of feeling sorry for yourself y/n, pull yourself together you’ve managed this long without anyone, “Hello? Are you asleep of somethin?” I swear down this guy is more annoying then my conscious sometimes, “Nope I was thinking of all the different ways I can kick ya ass later buddy boy”, his body vibrated with laughter as Bucky let out a load laugh at my reply. 

Do you see what I’m dealing with here ?!, “Good to know you’re back to the you’re ever cheerful self doll”, what in the name of ever loving fudge?! “Since when did I become your doll Barnes? last time I checked slingin’ a girl over your shoulder and carrying her off isn’t the way to get a girl!” all the bugger does is laugh, laugh I tell you! this boy is gonna be the death of me. “You sure about that doll face? cause it worked for me”.

I could practically see the stupid smirk on his face, also can someone explain to me why I’m blushing? For once I had nothing say, my sarcasm failed me…damn it. A low chuckle brought my attention back to the annoyance with legs, more commonly known as Barnes, “We’re almost home Doll, Mama should be able to clean you up in no time” oh no, no, no I don’t do well with parents, or any adult now that I think about it, they always have this look of pity in their eyes when they see me. It’s like they’ve just found a homeless kitten on the street and feel the need to adopt it and take care of it until they get bored, it’s infuriating and embarrassing, “Oi! Barnes, I ain’t telling you again I can look after myself, your mama doesn’t need to trouble herself with me I’m perfectly capable of cleaning myself up!” he let out another frustrated sigh, he must be going for a record it’s the 20th one, before ignoring me completely and walking up the drive.

“Yeah you keep saying you okay by yourself but look at the state of you y/n! you’ve got a busted-up nose and lip, a black eye and a cut on you’re eyebrow! How the hell is that taking care of yourself?!” for once he did have a point, but hell’s gonna have to freeze over before I admitted that, “Not that you’d know this Barnes, but this is what happens every day, I have to make my own livin’ I ain’t got anyone to rely on and it’s been that way for years, it’s how I like it! now put me the hell down before I kick ya ass to China!”.

The sound of an opening door stopped Bucky’s reply, “JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING LUGGIN’ THIS POOR GIRL AROUND LIKE A SACK OF POTATOS?! PUT HER DOWN NOW!” holy mother of all things holy I do NOT want to be on the receiving end of this lady’s anger! I think my ass is attracted to the floor, one minute I’m being held captive by an annoying pillock and the next I’m on the floor nursing a bruised behind, “Jesus Christ talking about letting a girl down quickly!” hands grabbed my upper arms and pulled me to my feet, Bucky’s apologies faded into the background when a shocked gasp silenced the conversation. Slowly I raised my head, Bucky’s mother had tears falling down her cheeks, her brown eyes were filled with the two emotions I hated the most, pity and sadness.

 Not being able to keep eye contact any longer, my gaze shifted to the porch floor, her shadow slowly started to move towards me, she was being cautious as if she were approaching a wild animal and I hated it. I hate seeing people treat me like a basketcase, I can’t stand it “I’m very sorry for disturbing you ma’am, I’ll leave” I quickly turn around and start to walk away, about 3 steps in a gentle hand grabs my shoulder and stops me. “Sweetie, you don’t have to apologise for anything, come inside I’ll get you cleaned up, Bucky, honey Steve’s inside with your father and sister” and with that Bucky’s mother guides me inside with a comforting hand and a gentle smile. 

Soooo..yeah this happens, I’m not gonna lie I felt really bad writing the sad bit about the reader, I may have teared up a tiny bit, anyway YAY chapter 2 is outta the way!. Hope you all liked it  :)Rose xx

#bucky barnes x reader #captain america x reader #reader #mcu #reader insert #steve #bucky #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #fanfic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #captain america

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Thursday 14 September 1837

7 40

11 50

Much rain in the night – fine morning F58° at 8 ¾ - then looking over papers till breakfast at 10 10 alone in 20 minutes – A- had Mr. Horner till 10 ½ - then with her emptying the new china closet for about ½ hour – the china to be put into the little room over the north porch door (the old china) for the present – the floor of the new china closet to be taken up to take away the clay from against the drawing room skirting board – out about at the meer at 12 – sauntered about there a little while – then came in again at 1 – with Robert the joiner getting the little tables moved from out of the new china closet – ½ hour with A- till 2 5 when she rode to Cliff – the 1st time since Mrs. AW-‘s illness that A- has gone so late in the day – then with Robert doing up the [ma.] shift china closet and had Mr. Gray a little while till 3 – then wrote the above of today – and from 3 ¼ to 4 ½ wrote 3pp. and one end to M- thanks for her letter received last Tuesday week and her few hurried lines received last night – had thought of writing soon – might have delayed a few days longer but for the urgency of your questions about education in German – I grieve very much over your friends troubles, and wish with all my heart I could help him – the place I was so taken with as a place for study was Göttingen – the university there is of old and deserved celebrity; and I liked the town and all I heard and saw of it; but, as I mentioned to you at the time, the students according to the custom of foreign universities have private lodgings in the town, attend the lectures or not at their own discretion, and are under no collegiate control – How far this might suit the views of England parents, they themselves could alone determine – In 1833, there were only, I believe, one or 2 English families in Göttingen; but Hanover had a whole quartier full; and, at the military college there, there were a great many young Englishmen – Hanover is besides one of the nicest towns on the continent, take it all in all; and the English society was said to be very fair – I have heard that Mrs. Armytage, mother of the present young [bartend] of Kirklees, is gone to Hanover for educational purposes – but one or both parents being with their children makes a great difference – the great difficulty in educating English boys abroad, is to find proper people with whom to board and lodge them; and this difficulty is so great as to be after insurmountable, unless there be some English friend resident on the spot – Foreigners, in general, would not have the same objection to a six-and-twenty bedded room that we should have; and to English people, foreign commons are very often [short] commons – now what you have let the summer so nearly slip away, I have given up the thought of your Rhine-trip for the present -   How nicely Louisa might have helped you to determine whether there was anything educational worth looking after at Bonn! – I almost wish you had been there instead of overwhelming yourself with so much Leamington responsibility – It is melancholy that you should sacrifice your sleep, health and good looks to the printing of prospectus, and the building of school-houses by subscription – But may the event justify your expectation, or rather perhaps your hopes; and may you be more than repaid!’ not to wait for a frank – ‘Parcels always travel safely nowadays – But if you think your plans and rules likely to tempt Adney, do not frighten me by sending them just yet – She has undertaken quite enough; and I should not consent to her attempting anything more – grieve over her useless journey to London – suppose she finds it to stay at home during the great alterations in the house at Lawton ‘we are apparently as far from finishing as ever – when we shall be able to get off, I know not – we have given up talking about it – Is the organ your own proper gift? The Inscription should be merely Presented to the Parish church of Lawton by the Impropriator of the Rectory Charles Bourne Lawton Esquire – would there not be an awkwardness in putting in your own name? But do pray consult your clerical friends who ought to understand these matters much better than I – 7 lines more chitchat – why pity Mrs. Miller (in a family way again) – obliged for news of the N-s Isabella never writes now – ‘Adney’s love – and believe me, my dearest Mary, ever very especially and affectionately yours AL-‘ Had just written all but the first 10 lines and went out at 5 10 – having directed my letter as desired in M-‘s of Monday 4th instant ‘Mrs. Lawton Lawton Hall, Newcastle, Staffordshire’ to go and did go tonight –a  little while with Mr. Gray and Robert Mann in front of the house – Roberts’ men barrowing soil against the flower garden wall in front of the house – and 2 backing up with dry wall Parkinsons’ return wall from the house front wall down the hollow to the laburnum not far from the rocks – 4 of Booths walling up under the lime tree and the walling off the terrace below the lime tree the rest of B-‘s masons hewing pedestals etc Parkinson and c° at the highest terrace wall or box walk – Nelsons’ men at the east wall up to the turret – Joseph Mann and Holmes sinking Listerwick pit and 1 man sinking vent pit by which to get down to the meer-drift clow (inside) – heavy rainy about 5 ¾ - took shelter under the great oak near Charles Howarth then forward to Listerwick pit cabin and took shelter there – the EP. 12 yards deep in water and running over into Long goit – ‘like a beck running into the EP.’ JM- believes it is the dead water – the run at Mytholm EP. 1ft. broad x 2 1/2in. thick is now reduced to 1in. thick – we shall always have this water to pump, if it be the dead water – our present 6in. bore pumps cannot take it – the buckets fitting in take up 2in. in of the 2 each pipes so that the lift = a column of 4in. instead of 6in. – must have 8in. bore pipes – came in at 6 50 – dressed – dinner at 7 ¼ - tea in the dining room – A- having the north parlour locked up and full of the china – she came upstairs about 9 and I, having read the newspaper, at 9 ¾ - sat with A- in her room till 9 55 – then came to my room – slumbered a little then till 10 ½ wrote the last 16 lines – finish day till about near 3pm afterwards repeated showers during the rest of the afternoon and evening F42° now at 10 40 –

[3pirouette]

Fic: 40 Weeks (1/1)

Title: 40 Weeks By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette Spoilers: First Avenger, that’s it. Disclaimer: They're not mine. Word Count: 4601 Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Rated teen to mature due to content.

Story Summary: Every week farther away from him is a week closer to a new beginning.

A/N: For Steggy Bingo Bash Sentence Prompt: “I have eagerly been awaiting the day I could finally meet you… and I am not disappointed. You are beautiful.” Also, I’m sorry. Set during CA:TFA. 

TW: while I hate to give away the plot, this story is about Peggy dealing with an unplanned pregnancy while believing Steve is dead after going down on the Valkyrie. This may be a sensitive subject for many, please read or skip accordingly for your own mental health.

I have never been pregnant. ALl info is from the internet. 

Also, I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. This made me cry. You’ll probably need tissues.

~*~ Week 0

He’d almost died.

It was all she could think of as she pressed her body into his, their lips meeting with force, battling to be dominant, the air charged with lust and fear and relief as they shed their clothes as quickly as they could.

Every time she closed her eyes she saw it: she saw the way the tank aimed at him, how his shield barely made it up in time to deflect the load from the great barrel, how it exploded and pushed him back in a way he didn’t expect, how he landed near the great rotating treads, shocked, and his head just an inch away from disaster as the tank rolled forward before Dugan slid in and pushed him farther under where the treads could do no damage.

He couldn’t hear her when they finally triumphed, blood slipping from his ear. He looked shocked, dazed. She’d never seen him like that before.

Even small, before the serum, he’d seemed invincible to her. This reminded her that even Captain America could die.

He could hear her now as she moaned his name, his lips slipping against the flesh between her legs, licking and nipping and biting as she fisted her hands in his hair, pulling him up to her. That realization had made her feel lost, broken, and she needed him in a way she’d never needed anyone before. The touch of his hand was too little, the wrapping of his arms around her in a simple hug not enough. She’d slipped them into an empty supply room, locked the door, and pressed him against it. “I won’t let either of us die without knowing what it’s like to love one another.”

He’d held her face in his hands, gentle, and tried to reassure her. “That’s not going to happen. I won’t let that happen.”

She hadn’t argued with him, didn’t have it in her to play devil’s advocate. Instead, she kissed him. Surprising him, it took a moment for him to kiss her back, for him to let them melt together, but slowly his body started to vibrate on the same frequency hers was, it started to pick up on her need and desperation and it left them as they were now, him clutching her shoulders, sliding inside her sloppily as she balanced on the edge of an old desk, her legs wrapped around his hips and her lips marking him at his collar bone.

It was quick and frenzied, sloppy and amateur, but Peggy couldn’t help but feel a little more put together, a little more reassured as they lay on the creaking table, his head pillowed on her breasts, the both of them gasping for breath.

“I love you, Peggy Carter,” Steve whispered, kissing the flesh closest to him, “and I’m never letting you go.”

“And I love you,” she croaked out, her voice raw. She tangled her hands in his sweaty hair, her heart pounding in her chest. “But you and I both know that neither one of us is in control of what happens during this bloody war.”

He pressed up on his arms, hovering over her, his dog tags cold against her skin as he pushed a curl behind her ear. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he kept it to himself. Instead, he kissed her gently. He pulled away softly, his brow furrowing as he looked down at her. “How am I supposed to go back to that lonely tent without you now?”

She let her hands slide over his shoulders. “Needs must, you know,” she whispered, letting him gently help her to sitting. “I suspect my own bed will be quite disappointing.”

Steve bent, kissing her thigh as he picked up their discarded clothing. “Peg, we should…”

“We shouldn’t,” she stopped him as he stood, eyes serious. “if we want to keep working together, no one can know. They’ll toss me out of here in a second and you know that.”

He kissed her gently, handing her her slip. “I hate keeping us a secret.”

“I’d hate even more not knowing if you were alive or dead.”

~*~ Week 3

She hadn’t managed a night’s sleep since he went into the water. Every time she closed her eyes she saw him drowning, saw his hands reaching up for her. Saw his lifeless body floating away.

She wasn’t his widow, she wasn’t his anything, not officially. His belongings were put in storage and his name was mourned. Only the men that knew them best, the ones that saw the snuck kisses and hand holding, gave her any real sympathy.

Dugan sat with her, Pinky said a prayer with her, and Phillips had even hugged her.

There was no body, no funeral, no remembrance beyond that given to any other soldier when there was still so much more work to be done.

She could barely eat, couldn’t sleep, felt sick and tired all the time, and yet, she knew she had to march on.

There was a war to win. She was going to win it for him.

~*~ Week 6

She was shaking, and only partly due to the fact that she’d just thrown up most of what she’d eaten today quite violently. She held the phone to her ear, trying desperately to slow her heart rate.

She didn’t want it to be true, and yet she desperately did.

And if it was, she was absolutely beyond terrified.

There was another long ring before a polite English voice she’d never heard answered.

“I need to talk to Howard, please. Peggy Carter calling.” She was proud that her voice sounded almost steady. Her heart felt like it was going to pound out of her chest, the seconds it took Howard to get to the phone felt like hours.

“Peggy!” he called, excited. “It’s good to hear from you. How can I be of service?”

She took one shaky breath, then another. She’d never been ashamed of what they did, would never be, but the impact it was going to have on her life, the way it was going to change everyone’s opinion of her… she wasn’t ready for that.

She heard her mother’s voice in her head, criticizing the women at church who work skirts that were too short and who flirted to shamelessly. Harlots, Margaret. Girls like that give smart, determined women like us a bad name. All for what? They should be on their knees for praying, not for…humph!

“Peggy? You there?” Howard asked, his tone softening.

She wasn’t ready to lose them all. She didn’t know how she could avoid it, though.

“Howard. I… I need your help.”

~*~ Week 7

He met her in London, his eyes tight and worried as she disembarked the troop transport with her usual aplomb, not a hint of the desperate woman he’d spoken to on the phone about her. He watched her closely as they got in his car, as he introduced his new butler, as they drove far away from the base and to a small house he’d rented.

She managed to keep her composure through lunch, telling him how she and Steve had shared one moment of unrestrained passion, how neither of them had thought anything could come of it, and how, three weeks after he was pronounced KIA she realized that he’d managed to make sure she’d never be alone, even without him.

Though she hadn’t taken a test, Peggy Carter knew with certainty that she was pregnant with Steve Rogers’ child.

She swallowed, looking at Howard frankly, her eyes clear. “I don’t mind being called a whore or a harlot, that I can take and have brought upon myself as my mother would say,” Peggy quickly relayed. “My job is lost, I’m sure.” She steeled herself, but it didn’t quite work. “But I can’t…” she teared up, wrapping her hands around her still flat belly, “I don’t know how to protect it. The Army… they’ll want…”

She dissolved into tears, sending Howard to his knees beside her. “I’ll help you, Peg. You don’t have anything to worry about.” He took her hand in his, waiting until she wiped the tears from her eyes to look at him. “Nobody’s going to touch that baby, ok? If I have to marry you myself, no one is going to touch that kid.”

~*~ Week 10

The guest house at Howard’s New York home is more than suitable for her, and she takes to wandering it aimlessly as it is quite large.

She resigned her commission, citing personal reasons much to Phillips chagrin.

How am I supposed to win this war without you, Carter? Phillips’s voice echoes in her mind.

Once, she would have bristled at that, would have rethought her decision to leave and felt the pull of duty.

She had only one duty now. It had been easier than she thought it would be to say goodbye.

One day she’d tell them the truth. Phillips, the Commandos, they were her friends, too. She still was barely thicker around the middle than she had been, not enough to show and not enough to be suspicious. But right now, she held the only living genetic sample of Steve Rogers, and there were nations that would kill for that, including her own. For now, she could still hide in plain sight.

Their baby’s safety was all that mattered to her.

She made another round, checking the windows and doors and making sure the gun by her bedside was loaded and ready to go if need be. She’d already pulled it twice on poor Mr. Jarvis, but he seemed to be getting used to her paranoia.  

~*~ Week 12

Ana is a godsend.

She’s funny and quick-witted, and thankfully good with a needle and thread. Peggy’s clothes all need letting out at the seams now, and Ana entertains her with silly stories of her day and tales of the farmer’s market in town as she makes alterations.

She’s become her only close friend, and Peggy is ever grateful that not once did she see pity or judgement in the woman’s eyes.

Her mother continues to refuse to speak to her.

~*~ Week 16

Howard has proposed no less than three times since he’s been back from the front.

His simplest solution is to not give the Army any reason to believe the child belongs to Rogers. While Peggy can see the wisdom in this, she can’t quite seem to get on board with the idea of denying the man she loved his only true legacy.

“I’m thinking about it,” she would tell him nearly twice a day.

And she was thinking about it.

~*~ Week 18

She’s glad the doctor Howard has found her is knowledgeable and discrete. She knows, because Howard refuses to lie to her, that they take an extra vial of blood for him at each visit, and he runs his own tests.

She’s relieved that the midwife Ana finds her is sweet and kind, and that the woman simply holds her hand when Peggy breaks into tears when the woman asks about the baby’s father.

“I’m so sorry my love,” the midwife whispers gently. “So many young women have lost so much in this war.”

If her midwife believes her to be anything other than a war widow, or notices the lack of a ring on Peggy’s finger, she never says.

~*~ Week 20

Ana has to take Peggy shopping for maternity clothes now. She’s showing and can no longer get by with letting buttons stay undone and letting out seams. The lacy frocks and pastel colors turn her off of the small section in the department store.

She can’t help but watch the women around her, some barely showing, some looking ready to burst, and wonder what their lives are like.

Do they have doting husbands at home? Indifferent husbands? Men overseas who may never see their child’s birth?

Are they like her? Lost and alone and so very, very unsure of how even tomorrow will go?

Ana gently guides her through the store despite her daze, and helps her choose some sensible tops and dresses.

She doesn’t plan on leaving Howard’s estate other than for doctor visits any time soon, so the design matters little in the long run.

~*~ Week 21

Lying in bed she can feel it.

Little flutters.

They’re easy to ignore during the day, but at night they’re positively maddening. She rubs her stomach, hands gliding over the tightening flesh, closing her eyes and imagining they were Steve’s hands.

Tears come to her eyes.

Would he have been happy? Excited? Scared? She’s imagined each emotion a million times over. She’s never really been able to decide.

Some days she barely knows how she feels about it.

The flutters get more insistent, no real kicks or punches yet, just little backflips. She imagines a little boy, lithe and graceful as his father, or a little girl, smooth like a ballerina.

She smiles.

“Bide your time, little one,” she whispers, and the movement calms down. “You’ll be out here with all of us soon and there will be little time for rest.”

~*~ Week 23

Her days are the same now: mornings to herself to prepare for the day, afternoon tea with Ana and a rousing walk along the grounds with Mr. Jarvis. There’s the occasional doctor appointment or meeting with the midwife thrown in, but dinner is steadily at 7 and she indulges in warm baths and a book before bed.

Lying in bed is when her day turns.

She’s never really quite sure what’s going to happen after she turns the lights out.

Some nights she talks to her baby, having decided on calling him or her simply “My Little One” for the time being. If her child’s restless she knows her voice will calm it: stories, lullabies, or just rambling about her day.

Some nights all she can do is cry. Usually, it’s gentle streams of tears falling from her lashes quietly as her mind drifts to the man who will never know his child, who she imagines never understood how much she loved him, who had plans for a life after the war with her…

Sometimes she sobs; big, heaving sobs that seem to come up from the depths of her soul. This happens often after the nightmares. She has the nightmares less and less, but they’re no less dark, no less graphic for the time that’s passed. She wakes up, gasping, feeling like she’s drowning herself, and lets the tears come.

Some nights she sleeps, deep and dreamless. Those are the good nights, when she can rest and rejuvenate, when she can wake up the next day feeling like she just might be ready for whatever will come next. They’re few and far between.

Most night she simply misses him. She’s started talking to the darkness, telling Steve, who she desperately needs to believe is watching over her and their child, of all she’d done that day, even though she like to think he’s seen. Sometimes she balls up the quilt, imagining the weight of the fabric is his body behind her, wrapped around her, holding her close and keeping her warm, running his hand over the swell in her belly and whispering in her ear as he kisses her neck.

She whispers into the night, wondering what she should name their Little One.

She doesn’t get an answer back.

~*~ Week 25

Peggy’s indigestion keeps her from enjoying dinner more nights than not, and it has both the Jarvises and Howard worried.

Peggy reminds Howard that he should be less worried about her indigestion and more worried that if he asks her to marry him one more time she will literally punch him. He opens his mouth to make the proposal, but stops when she simply raises her eyebrows at him, the challenge clear.

The midwife tells them all it’s perfectly normal, and stays with Peggy to talk about where she wants to give birth.

Peggy and Howard both agree the main house will be the safest, and neither is willing to risk a hospital.

By the end of the week, Howard has one of the downstairs wings converted to a hospital wing: a birthing room and a fully equipped surgery ready and waiting.

~*~ Week 27

“Howard says he’s officially put me on the payroll as a security consultant.” Peggy sighs into the darkness. “I asked him what that means and he said it just means I don’t need to worry about anything ever again.”

She rubs her belly, looking up to the ceiling. “For what it’s worth, I almost punched him again. He still has a bit of a bruise from the last time he proposed.” She chuckles. “But he did promise that when I was ready, he thought Stark Industries could use someone like me, and that my pay was merely a retainer fee.”

She turns on her side, pulling the quilt up around her shoulders. “Nearly two-thirds the way there, my love.” She squeezes her eyes shut, pretending his arms are wound around her. “Ana wanted to throw me a baby shower, but I couldn’t think of anyone to invite. We’re going to go shopping for the bassinet and such tomorrow, instead. She and Mr. Jarvis have already bought me more than enough bottles and diapers to last well until the Little One is walking.”

Her voice cracks, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “I can’t believe you won’t be here for this.”

~*~ Week 30

She doesn’t fit into her bras anymore, and Ana has never been more of a godsend. The woman brings her a bag full of options from the department store and sits with her, chatting calmly as she sews little cotton pads to go in them while Peggy sniffles, unprepared for the leaking and the soreness that’s accompanied this new stage in her pregnancy.

Even when feeling her lowest, with washcloths stuffed in her slip and her face red after bidding Ana a soft farewell, the back of her mind tells her that Steve would have gathered her in his arms and held her close, telling her she was beautiful and amazing and carrying a new life.

She wraps her arms around herself, weeping, and sinks to the floor, crying for all she’s lost and the things her child will never know.

~*~ Week 32

Her mother still refuses to speak with her, and she’s resorted to letters.

She hasn’t said who the baby’s father is, or that there is a good chance her grandchild will be the genetic carrier of an abundance of useful information that could cure disease or lead to another generation of super soldiers.

She mails what she tells herself is the last letter, the contents telling her mother that, should she care to know, Peggy has found a wonderful group of friends that will make sure her and her baby are protected and cared for no matter what happens.

Peggy sits, staring out the window of her guest house, rubbing her belly and thinks it’s a shame that the baby won’t have a grandmother to bake it cookies.

She laughs when she realizes Mr. Jarvis can fill that role very well, and that his cookies are far better than anything her mother managed to cook from scratch.

~*~ Week 35

She wakes up the whole household at three in the morning, convinced she’s having the baby too early.

Jarvis resorts to making tea and a full English Breakfast despite the time.

Ana holds her hand tightly, sitting by her bedside in the birthing room in the mansion as they wait for the midwife.

Howard paces a rut in the floor outside her room, smoking like a chimney and muttering to himself.

“Braxton Hicks,” the midwife tells her cheerfully despite the ungodly hour. “That baby isn’t quite ready to come out, yet.”

Ana sits with her for hours after the midwife leaves, never letting go of her hand.

~*~ Week 37

She sits with a list of names. She tries to imagine his reaction to each of them, but can’t.

Howard has become insistent that she put him down as the father, he notes that it won’t spoil his reputation any and that him as the legal father will afford the baby a comfortable life and there will be far fewer questions.

She thanks him, then threatens to punch him.

She’s already decided that the father’s name on the birth certificate will stay blank. Better no father than the wrong man, she thinks.

The baby will have her last name.

The rest, she hopes, will come in the next three weeks.

~*~ Week 38

She paces the halls of the big house through the night. Howard and Jarvis, much to her and Ana’s amusement and chagrin, have become insistent on her staying in the mansion. They want her close as the big day nears.

She tries to picture what Steve would be like, tries to guess which pieces of her friends he’d put together: Jarvis’ anxiety and preparation, Howard’s determination and excitement…

Steve was always a very tactile person, and she misses every hug and touch she knows he’d have given her. She can feel them burning on her skin in their absence.

The Little One is active and low, ready to come any day now.

What was once fear and confusion is starting to transform in her belly into excitement.

~*~ Week 39

“Mr. Jarvis,” Peggy calls from the hallway just after dinner on a quiet Tuesday, “I’m afraid I’ve made a bit of a mess.”

He moves out of the kitchen, his usual placations ready to spill from his lips until he sees the sight of her: puddle below her, legs dripping, one hand gripping her belly and one holding the sideboard to keep her standing.

Peggy thinks, as she watches Jarvis and Howard turn into tornados of commotion around her, that perhaps Steve would have been the calm one. He always did manage to have his head about him in a battle. Jarvis is slipping in her mess as he tries to get her over it without incident, Howard is on the phone, yelling incoherent sentences at the midwife.

Ana, thankfully, takes her hand and helps her leave them behind, guiding her back to the birthing room that had become her bedroom for the last few days.

Yes, she imagines, as Ana helps her into a dry nightgown and pull her hair back, he would be calm and certain, slow and deliberate, making sure she had everything she needed. Ana’s helping her into the bed as the midwife arrives, and like before the woman stays by her side, talking softly as the midwife examines her and declares that they’ll have a baby sooner rather than later.

Peggy thinks it might be the pain, but as she’s enduring the worst of the contractions, she swears she can hear his voice in her ear, telling her to keep going, that she’s strong, that she doesn’t need him, or anyone, to do this.

When they sit her up to push, she imagines it is Steve’s strong form behind her, not pillows and a bedframe holding her up as she yells with each effort, the midwife between her legs and Ana at her side.

When the baby slips from her body she imagines he catches her as she falls back, limp, his strong arms holding her up, his lips at her ear, his cheek next to hers.

But when the midwife hands her the baby, swaddled tight and eyes opening gently, any ghost of Steve is gone. Her heart pounding in her chest, she hears the words over and over in the back of her mind, and she’s wondering if it is him, if he was with her. If he’s left her this gift and this knowledge.

You can do this.

“A little boy,” the midwife says as she hands Peggy her son. He squeals a bit, lets out a soft cry, then settles, opening his eyes.

Peggy smiles at him, eyes filled with tears. She presses the blanket back from his chin, taking in the radiant blue of his eyes, the tiny eyelashes that surround them, the strong set of his still barely there jaw.

She knows, one day, there will be no question about his parentage.

She presses a soft kiss to his head, cradling him close as he squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a cry, her heart more full of love than she could have ever imagined. She can’t tell if she’s laughing or crying as she speaks. “I have eagerly been awaiting the day I could finally meet you… and I am not disappointed. You are beautiful.”

She gazes at her son as the midwife finishes her work, feeling but not registering the passing of the afterbirth and the older woman’s gentle washing of her legs and thighs. Ana gently cleans the child as she holds him, unable to look away. Finally, the midwife sits by her side, papers in her hands. “I’ve filled out everything else. All that’s left is his name.”

Peggy gulps, hard, undecided for a moment, but his eyes gaze up at her and she knows. “Michael Steven Carter.” She expects tears when she says it, but they don’t come, and that’s how she knows she’s made the right decision. “For two important men that I wish he could have known.”

The midwife sets a caring hand on her arm as Ana turns away, sniffing. “A beautiful memorial.” The older woman fills out the paper and leaves it at Peggy’s bedside. “I can bathe him for you, if you like?”

“No, I don’t think I can bear to let go just yet,” she whispers, still in awe of the small movements he’s making. Each stretch, each wiggle she can almost feel coinciding to a movement she felt from the outside. To have him in her arms is a blessing she won’t overlook.

“Then perhaps we should try feeding him?”

Peggy nods, smiling up at the woman. “Please.”

~*~ Week 40

She stares at him, asleep in his little bassinet. He’ll be waking soon, she can tell from how swollen and tight she feels that he’s due for another feeding, even if she hadn’t looked at the clock.

When she woke, she could have sworn that she saw Steve standing over the bassinet, his form strong and stoic in the moonlight.

She blinked, and he was gone.

Peggy didn’t have time for fantasies of lost loves any longer. She still wondered at how Steve might react, what he’d say, but she’d been too busy to wonder too much, or miss him too deeply.

Michael was her whole world right now, and keeping him safe was her first, and only, job. Howard said it was for too early to know if he’d exhibit any of the traits his father had been endowed with, but any and all tests they’d run showed that he was a healthy, normal little boy.

She still hadn’t figured out how she’d tell him about his father, or what they’d do if he was stronger and faster than all his peers as he grew, but every time it popped through her mind she reminded herself that was a problem for years down the line.

Tonight, when she held him tight to her breast, she could tell him unedited stories of the bravery of his father, knowing that the boy would never remember her words.

Tonight was all that mattered.

Tonight, and her beautiful boy in her arms.

#Steggybingobash #Steggy Fic #Angst #tissue warning #3P's Fic

[hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall]

Enough is Enough

Steve Rogers x Reader

Chapter Summary: Dating Steve Rogers isn’t as easy as it may seem.

Warning: Angst, Swear words.

A/N: I am on fire! Another late (I’m sorry) challenger, this time for the amazing @captain-kelli​ and her “Stories about strong women” challenge <3 My propmt was: I am not the girl the guy gets at the end of the movie. I am not a fantasy. If you want me, earn me! Until then, we are done.

GIF not mine! <3

You weren’t the jealous, pissed at everything, type of person. You always tried to listen to two sides of the stories, always wanted to make sure, that if the time comes, you will get angry for a reason. And it didn’t happen that often. You were normally a calm person, trying to avoid the fight. Whether it was at work or your private life.

You always tried to make sure that people that were closest to you felt that. And all you ever asked for was for them to show that they cared. Some simple gestures, something that would make you realise that you were loved. 

When Steve Rogers asked you out one time, you weren’t sure if he was being serious. You were nothing but a humble coffee shop owner, who just enjoyed her job and her books. But when he asked, if he could make you coffee one day, you couldn't help but smile and agree. He was so shy and nervous, that you found it adorable. 

Your first date was perfect. Everything you would expect from a man from the 40s. He was a gentleman, listened to what you had to say, laughed at the right moments, and even brought you flowers. Of course, he seemed nervous, but he tried to hide it as well as he could. And when he nervously asked you if he will see you again, you didn't hesitate to agree for the second date. 

It was a year ago and for the first half a year it was amazing. You both worked great together, he was making you breakfast when you stayed the night, and you always invited him for dinner, when you were able to make one at home. Of course, you had fights, but you were both adult enough to be able to work things out and go on with your lives. After all, your first time together was after one of the biggest fights.

Yes, sex, especially the make-up, angry sex was something amazing. If someone thought that Steve Rogers was a boring vanilla guy, they were totally wrong. Steve knew how to pleasure a woman. He knew what to do and how to do it, for the girl to scream his name. And he was a little cheeky bastard about it. He enjoyed to play with you and hear you beg. 

Yes, Steven Grant Rogers was amazing. In every aspect of it. Well, until he wasn’t. 

Something shifted after the half-year you both been together. More precisely about a month after his birthday, where you made him his favourite apple pie and rented all of the movies he must have seen back at his days. The day was perfect, really, so was the end of that day. But the longer you two been together the longer it seemed forced. He would come back from the mission, write you a text that he was too tired to come, or would just come to get his frustration off. There was no more talking and getting to know one another, no more dreams about the future, and planning how would your little house in Brooklyn look like.

You wondered so long about what you may have done wrong. You replayed every day spent with him, trying to come up with a reason, why he was getting further away from you. It hurt you so deeply because you loved him and you needed him, Him and his love. 

“He got used to you.” Your coworker said once when you spent your entire lunch break in a long monologue about what was wrong with you and your relationship. “It doesn’t matter if he is Captain America or not. He is still a man. He got used to you. To you being there for him and in his life.”

“So what he got tired of me?” You could not believe that your Steve Rogers would be like that. 

“No sweety!” She laughed, giving you a warm smile. “He learned to have you around him. He got accustomed to having you, so he doesn't have to do anything for you to stay by his side. He got used to you. As simple as it is.” Your heart froze at that moment, and as much as you hated to admit it, there was a part of you that believed her. “Well, how about we go out tonight and celebrate your birthday?” You smiled and shook your head. 

“Sorry, Steve was supposed to get out from work earlier. I think he’s planning something.” She nodded and giving you a kiss on the cheek came back to work. 

You followed her some minutes later, trying to get rid of the awful words telling you that Steve really did get used to you. 

**

You were tired. The whole shop was busy almost the whole day, and all you wanted was to go have a long bath and relax. You took a cab home, unable to hide the excitement to see Steve. You weren’t looking for much, just some time alone with him. Something which was missing lately. 

You paid the driver and almost run to the doors, hoping to meet him there. But your big smile and cheerful beating of the heart stopped when you walked to the dark house. 

“Steve?” You shouted, hoping he would be in the other rooms. But no one answered. No one was there. Just you and your pitiful hope for your friend’s words not to be true. You felt tears in your eyes and a sob escaped your mouth. You took your phone, hoping he would at least call or text you, but nothing was waiting for you. Nothing from you. Texts from his friends. His friends, but not him. 

So you did what you were planning to do all day. You got your bath read, with some candles, a book and a glass of wine and relaxed. It was your birthday, no way you would cry on your birthday. Not because of a man. A man you gave your whole heart to. 

**

Steve was tired. Too tired for anything and anyone. He was supposed to get off earlier today and relax for the first time in months. It was Friday and he had to stay this late because some recruits messed up reports. He was pissed and tired. 

“Captain Rogers, have a good night.” AI saw him off and closed all the doors behind him. He looked at his phone and sighed seeing the time. No way he is coming to work tomorrow. Even he wanted some free time from time to time. 

“What the hell are you doing here, punk?” He turned to see Bucky coming out of a gym. It was his ritual. The gym was normally empty in the evenings so he made the best of it. 

“Just finished those stupid reports… Going to take a shower and off to bed.” He sighed and frowned seeing his best friend’s surprise face. “What?”

“Please tell me you remembered?” Steve was starting to get scared at Buck’s tone. “Y/N? It’s her birthday today? Well for the next 3 minutes, I mean.” Steve froze. He has completely forgotten. With all the work that he had in a couple of months, it was a nightmare to get any life outside of the office. He knew he was treating you badly, but he promised himself that when this all will be over he would take out somewhere and pay up for all that lost time. But now he completely fucked up. He looked at his phone once again to check the date and cursed under his nose. “Jesus, Steve!” Bucky hissed visibly pissed at his best friend. “She was already feeling left behind because of your strange behaviour”, Steve frowned, not knowing about that. And since when did you speak to Bucky about your private life. “You better think of something, pal, cause, you’re about to lose her.” Not waiting any longer, Steve went on his bike and drove as fast as he has never driven before. He can’t lose you. No matter what, he can’t. 

**

You jumped when the doors tried to open from the outside. You don’t even remember when you left keys in them, which enabled anyone from opening them from the outside. But yeah, you were really thankful for that now, as you knew very well who it was before his voice boomed. 

“Y/N baby please open up!” he sounded broken, scared and so tired. Your first instinct was to open the doors and console him, but you shook your head. No. You had enough. “Sweetheart it’s after midnight, you don’t want me to wake all your neighbours, right?”

“Go away, Steve!” You hated how hurt your voice sounded. You wanted to be strong and shop him how unaffected you were by his ignorance but you wouldn’t. Your own body betrayed you. 

“I know you’re angry… Baby I know.” This made you even angrier than you thought it was possible. You stood up and opened the doors with anger, meeting his soft, hurt features. 

“You have no fucking clue!” You shouted, not caring about the neighbours anymore. “So don’t give me that bullshit!” You stood there staring at him with so much hatred, so much pain, that the first time every you just didn’t care about his feelings. You turned around and went to your window, trying to relax, not wanting to see his handsome face right now. “You have no idea, so don’t act as you do!” You heard the doors closing and you felt him moving towards you. “Tell me what did I do for you to be so… Jesus Steve! Are you used to me, is that it?!” He frowned not understanding what you mean. “Was I becoming so boring, that you just got used to having me around? I understand Steve… Your job is important, but you promised me so many times that this would not affect us! You would always text me or call to ask how my day went. But it changed. For the past six months, I felt I was here just to feed you and get off your sexual frustration!” His eyes widened and he took a step closer, ignoring your protests.

“Y/N I am so sorry. I never thought this is what you think. I’m sorry for being so distant, for breaking my promise. This job… It’s killing me inside and by mistake, I put on that frustration on you. I’m sorry.”

“It was my birthday today, Steve”, he flinched seeing tears in your eyes. “Even your friends sent me wishes. I would have understood if you’d call me and said that you needed to stay at work. A one stupid phone call. We would do whatever you planned tomorrow. It wouldn't mat…” But you stopped noticing the look on his face. “Oh god, you forgot!” You whispered, your heart, breaking in million pieces. 

“Baby please…”

“No… Don’t call me that!” You turned around and looked him deep into those blue eyes. “I had enough Steve. I had enough of being whatever I am to you. We talked so many times about my insecurities with this relationship. We talked about your work and you always promised me to never make me feel like I feel right now. And here we are…”

“Sweetheart, please…”

“No!” You shouted making him stop in tracks. “I don’t know if you really got used to me and decided to not put any effort into that relationship or something else. But right here, right now I am ending it! I have had enough! Enough of loving you with no gestures back. Enough of sleepless nights wondering what I’ve done for you to get tired of me. I am not the girl the guy gets at the end of the movie. I am not a fantasy. If you want me, earn me! Until then, we are done.” You noticed how he stirred at your words. 

“No…” He started, tears appearing in his eyes. “No, we are not done. I am not letting you go!” 

“I said that Steve. I am tired of this all. If you decide to change and would want me back… Fight for me… Until then I want you to leave!” 

“I’m not leaving”, he took a step towards you, but you took one away. 

“Fine, then I leave. Just please close the doors behind you!” And with that you shut the doors in his face, ending something you hoped to be forever. 

#captainkelli500fam #MCU #MCU fanfiction #Marvel MCU #You #angst #challenge #fanfiction #mcufam #reader #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfic #captain america #steve rogers x you #steve rogers angst

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH83

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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Chapter 83: Castle Cry (X)

As a small expert in finding things, Dr. Lu found a key in a secret compartment of the desk drawer, which was probably the one needed to open the basement. So the three people hurried downstairs and went to the first floor. It was already 3:40 in the morning. They would return to the outer world in 20 minutes, and they had to solve the problem in 20 minutes, otherwise they would have to wait another hour. Who knew what would happen in the outer world?

Qi Leren and Dr. Lu talked about the task in low voices, and they had to be careful not to let Nan Lu hear about skills - he wasn’t sure how an NPC would react to this.

"Although Nina's words are full of flaws, let's listen to her, otherwise it's easy to have an accident." Dr. Lu seriously warned Qi Leren, who was eager to move. "Don't mess around, let’s kill the crazy lady so we can go home."

"Oh... My warning skill is cooling, and the cooling time is too long. I can't count on this skill. The S/L skill has cooled down, so I can fight with it," Qi Leren said.

"My lucky skill was activated at 1:30. After 90 minutes, it’s expired by now. The cooling time is three hours. That is to say, the next time I can use it is after six o'clock, I basically can't count on it ... Take care of yourself, as long as you climb out of the cellar alive, I will treat you and cure you." Dr. Lu's tone was filled with a faint sense of pity, and it seemed that Qi Leren was going to suffer misfortune.

"...What if you die inside?" Qi Leren asked sullenly.

"You little devil, don’t talk nonsense! Go fight the boss well! Don’t set up any Flags!" Dr. Lu slapped Qi Leren on the back of his head, giving full play to the majesty of a doctor.

"...Oh." Qi Leren responded stupidly, remembered something again, and quietly reminded Dr. Lu, "Be careful of Nan Lu."

Dr. Lu nodded his head.

The deepest part of the corridor was a large kitchen. There were cabinets everywhere in the area of more than 10 square meters. The ceiling directly above the generous prep counter was covered with various nameless kitchen utensils. There were also many pots and pans and some unpacked ingredients on the counter.

"Look at the corner, there’s a dark box on the ground," Dr. Lu warned.

Qi Leren inspected the kitchen along the wall. The ground was covered with a layer of ceramic tiles with a white background. They reflected his own figure vaguely under the light. He squatted down and knocked on the ground with his fingers. He didn't feel that any tiles were hollow. Where was the hidden compartment?

"I can't find it... I wish I had asked a little more clearly." Dr. Lu murmured, "Should we go ask Nina? Time is running out."

Qi Leren also stood up from the ground. After squatting for too long, his brain was short on blood. He was dizzy briefly, and the image in front of him was covered with a black shadow. He blinked hard and then suddenly froze.

The cupboard door in front him was made of glass, and the transparent glass reflected the image behind him - a well-dressed blonde woman was sitting on a wooden chair not far from Nan Lu, holding a baby in her arms. She lowered her head and looked at the baby in her arms gently, as if humming a gentle lullaby. And at her feet, the ground was covered with bloody remains, a head wearing a chef’s hat was cut into two pieces, and a maid holding kitchen utensils was beyond recognition... The blood rolled like it was boiling, while the woman holding the baby turned a blind eye to the bloody scene, and was strangely serene.

Qi Leren quickly turned his body, and the wooden chair against the wall behind him was empty.

Was it an illusion? Or…

"What's the matter?" Dr. Lu looked at Qi Leren striding toward the chair behind him and asked.

Qi Leren forgot to answer him. He dragged away the wooden chair and knocked on the tile under the chair with his finger. It was hollow.

"This is it." Qi Leren stuck his dagger into the gap between the ceramic tiles and pried it open. Several adjacent ceramic tiles were loose. After they were removed, there was a square iron grate below, like a cellar entrance.

"How did you find it?" Dr. Lu asked curiously.

"I saw her," Qi Leren whispered, staring at the slightly rusty iron grate underground, and the heavy iron lock that firmly locked it, together with all the evil inside.

"What did you see?" Nan Lu said sharply.

Qi Leren didn't answer. He said coldly, "Back up and I'll open the basement. If something is wrong later, you should get out of here..." He didn't expect Dr. Lu and Nan Lu to help, and the seed of slaughter in him might accidentally injure his teammates, so he would rather face the crazy lady alone.

The heavy iron lock was opened with the key, and Qi Leren’s heartbeat quickened. The cellar door to the basement was opened with a dull sound, revealing a vertical iron ladder and the deep darkness below. There was a stale smell in the darkness, as if it had been sealed for a long time.

Qi Leren's flashlight had already been lost in the outer world, so he had to use the light of his mobile phone below. The light spread down the iron ladder, illuminating the concrete floor, and there was nothing.

There must be danger down there, which Qi Leren could feel, but he still had to take the risk. After weighing it, he decided to suspend his use of the S/L skill until he found the danger. With his mouth biting his mobile phone, he continued to light the way, holding a dagger inlaid with holy runes in one hand and climbing the iron ladder in the other hand, ready to climb down to the basement.

His foot stepped on the rail of the iron ladder, which was very strong. Qi Leren felt like walking alone into the fog full of monsters, knowing that there was danger lurking in the darkness of the basement, but he forced himself to go on.

Most of his body had descended into the cellar, with only his shoulders above it. Qi Leren nodded to Dr. Lu, beckoning him to pay more attention to Nan Lu. Unfortunately, the tacit understanding between them was insufficient. Dr. Lu waved to him with mirth, and Qi Leren was tired and went to climb the ladder.

A cold wind blew up from bottom to top in the basement, and the lighting range of the mobile phone was narrow, only seeing his own shadow in the beam, surrounded by vast darkness. Climbing down, Qi Leren suddenly stepped on air, and the rung of the ladder was missing. He fell down, but fortunately, his hand gripped the ladder tightly, so he didn't fall far. This little accident made Qi Leren, who was originally in a calm mood, feel flustered, and there seemed to be a terrible monster lurking in the deep darkness at his feet.

Before he could calm his heartbeat, the foot that stepped on empty air in the dark was suddenly entangled in something, and the something that grabbed his ankle was surprisingly strong. It pulled him down from the ladder and he fell to the ground.

Once again, he fell dizzily, but this time it was much better than falling into the studio from the second floor. At least Qi Leren still had the strength to roll several times, holding up his awkward arm and clenching his dagger.

The mobile phone had fallen to the ground, illuminating a small area. In the dark, it seemed that there was a gentle singing, a faint candle lit up, then a second, more and more... Two rows of candlelight, lit up close to the wall, illuminated this dark and dead basement. At the end of the candlelight, there was a rocking chair with its back to him. The woman sitting in the rocking chair had long golden hair, which fell down like a waterfall.

She gently hummed a lullaby and sang softly in this cold basement.

Qi Leren's line of sight swept around, but he didn't see what had pulled him into the basement just now. It was so weird... He even thought of running away, but when he looked up, the open cellar door seemed to be pushed by an invisible hand, and was closed with a loud bang, and the light over his head disappeared, which also cut off his retreat.

With the cellar door closed, the rocking chair slowly turned, like being placed on a turntable, and slowly turned around. The blonde woman in the rocking chair was humming softly with her eyes closed and her baby in her arms.

The rocking chair stopped, facing him, and the crazy lady in the chair slowly opened her eyes - her left eye was exactly the same as the portrait, but her right eye had been gouged out, leaving only a bleeding hole, with blood seeping from her eye to her neck.

This rare and ominous scene made Qi Leren dare not spit out a sigh of relief. He was still, and his muscles were tight to the point of stiffness.

"Are you here to get back at me?" The lullaby stopped, and the crazy lady asked softly.

"..." Revenge? Who wants revenge? Qi Leren's brain was blank.

"You have taken away my child, what else do you want to take away? His love?" The mad lady's voice became cold. She looked ahead with empty eyes. She said in a self-deprecating way, "I hate you... Hate you... Envy you... Go back to the grave and keep company with dirty maggots. That's where you belong. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha..."

Her crazy laughter grew crazier and crazier, piercing his eardrums.

She stood up and gently put the baby in her arms on the rocking chair. In the flickering candlelight, the intact half of her face was like the Virgin of Vladimir, but when she was walking towards Qi Leren, the blood and tears flowing from her bloody right eye made her look like the evil spirit from a horror movie.

Two rows of lit candles shook, casting criss-crossing shadows on the ground, shaking, trembling…

There was something creepy, climbing slowly from his feet, stroking his ankles and knees, and climbing inch by inch. Qi Leren slashed the dagger in his hand at the invisible things, and the dagger waved a sharp wind in the air, but it didn't touch anything. What were these things? What on earth was it?

The crazy lady walked towards him with a strange smile on her face. She walked slowly, but every step was like a stuck video tape, jumping forward frame by frame. This was definitely not what human beings should look like! Candlelight in all directions made her shadow tremble and distort, projecting a strange chaos on the ground.

At this moment, Qi Leren suddenly realized something.

He lowered his head and looked at the shadows climbing his trouser legs, which had no form and no quality, yet still existed…

It was the shadows.

-----

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

#Welcome to the Nightmare Game #欢迎来到噩梦游戏 #danmei

[evermorehaikyuu]

▬◊☆One More Time

A/N: This has been one of the most requested second parts to one of my fics in angstember and it took me a while because I kept thinking of how to write a second part and chances are I’ll write a third part of fluff because this is angst again. Here’s the first part to the angst, let’s get started! 

Warning: Blood and details of surgery, proceed with caution 

~

One year had gone by and Shirabu was living in solitude. Maybe that was too little of a word. He felt like he was locked up in chains as every single day he glanced at the door in the hopes that Y/N would come in and hold him like she used to. It never did happen.

How many times did his own words come back to haunt him in the times where he sat alone in the middle of the night, revising his textbooks? It was the main reason why he always tried to go back to work, even during his break time and his days off. His supervisor had noticed that something was up with him everytime he had left his group to go and get back to work. What was worse was that Y/N had left to go to another hospital. Perhaps if she hadn’t left, they could’ve fixed it. However, when she put her mind to something, she went through with it. 

Nothing was ever going to help him go back to what he wanted, he had decided. Every night after she left he would study craniectomy, but from his exhaustion, he couldn’t focus. He could barely tell anyone anything other than the basics. He was a surgeon, he should’ve known everything. But Shirabu was only human.

On a day where everything was going slower than usual, something had to come up right as he was going to go home. There was an ambulance right outside of the hospital, the red siren flashing over the walls as the paramedics started rolling someone in as quickly and smoothly as they could. Shirabu’s supervisor grabbed his arm and said, “Someone got into an accident. They need a craniotomy right away. Shirabu, I need you to do this, they look like they’re in really bad shape.” 

Shirabu looked at his supervisor and in a split second, he knew what he needed to do, albeit feeling like all was going to fail. He decided to go into the operation. 

Inside of the room, the tension was thick and so was the smell of blood. The surgeons were all going around the patient like ants on sugar and speaking in medical terms that Shirabu had come to learn a while ago. As he walked over, one of the nurses stopped him. “Hold on. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes, of course. They’re a patient and they need to be saved right now.” Shirabu could barely contain his emotions within him, patience was not a virtue he had when it came to someone stopping him from doing his job. “What’s their name?” He reached out for the clipboard near one of the tables and the nurse tried to stop him until he saw who it was.

Y/N was on the table. If he didn’t move now, she would die.

Moving as quickly as he could over to her, he could see her face shriveled up in pain but her eyes were glossed over. The anesthesia was doing its job well as her expression slowly shifted and she started dozing off. Shirabu gulped and looked up at his team of doctors. “What happened to her? Where was she hurt?”

“Got into an accident. Brain damage.” Another nurse said, handing him the craniotome. “Shall we begin?”

Shirabu took the instrument from her and looked down at Y/N. She was on the verge of death and here he was hesitating. Even though she didn’t love him anymore, would he be so petty as to let her die?

No, he said to himself, I’m not someone who will take the life of someone else just because they left me. With the instrument in his hand, he started his procedure, drilling the hole into her head to see what the injury was. 

~

“Doctor, I think we’re--” The nurse who had warned him glanced at him with fear in her eyes. This would be his second time to let someone die. He’d get fired at the very least, banished from the hospital. Why did they let him do this operation again? Just because she was his ex-girlfriend and all of a sudden, the pieces would be put into place inside of his mind? 

Shirabu’s concentrated gaze was soon blurred by his own emotions as panic settled in his chest, realizing that his efforts were futile. He was killing her. She was dying anyways and instead of giving her a peaceful death, Shirabu was assassinating Y/N L/N, the only person he had ever truly loved. “No. Don’t finish that sentence until we’re done. Get the AED ready if her heart rate goes down.”

Even though he refused to let the knowledge of her dying enter his mind, it was becoming very clear to everyone in the room that she was going to pass away. “Please...please don’t die, Y/N, please…,” he whispered to himself, his voice breaking at the last word as he kept trying to keep her alive. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done anything that I did and I missed you so much, please, Y/N, stay with me…”

“Her heart rate is going down.” The buzz of the defibrillators filled the air but Shirabu could barely hear it over the sound of his own heart pounding inside of his chest as he bit his lip and tried to continue his procedure. His hands were shaking as he kept cutting, the blood pooling on his hands, a symbol for the crime he was about to execute.

Execute, he thought, that’s a strange word. It could be used as an act, but most of the time it’s seen as something to fear, a wrongdoing. Maybe I am not supposed to be here. Maybe I should’ve paid more attention.

“She’s at 40, she’s going further down, we’re losing her!” The nurses were all rushing, trying to get Y/N back to life. The constant beeping of the ECG started slowing down before there was a flatline, telling everyone in the room that they had failed. 

“Time of death, 11:39 pm.” Someone muttered, scribbling it down before all of them stared at each other, defeated. All of them turned to look at Shirabu and regretted it immediately.

Shirabu was staring at Y/N’s dead body on the table and looked at his shaking crimson hands, his vision now filled with tears as he gazed at her closed eyes. They’d stay shut forever. It was his fault again. He had killed another person and this was the person he had loved the most. 

His supervisor, when meeting with Shirabu outside, asked him what had happened and Shirabu stared at him with the most broken look he had ever seen in his life. “I lost her. I was too late.”

~

Getting back home was a blur and it was much faster than he had expected as he slammed the door shut and threw his jacket aside, breathing shakily. He couldn’t look at his hands again without seeing the redness blooming on them. Everytime he heard the words “time of death”, it made the reality of her being gone from this world face him. 

Shirabu didn’t know when he fell to the floor. He didn’t know when the tears started coming out of him as he hugged himself, pitiful wails coming out of him before a fist came down on the floor as he screamed. He screamed at himself for not knowing enough. He screamed at himself for not keeping her. He screamed at the heavens for notting letting him keep her for enough time to apologize. 

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Y/N….” Shirabu said before bursting into tears again, his hands covered his face before sliding up to grip his hair as his tears continued falling and he started shaking as he hugged himself.

Shirabu had a chance to apologize beforehand. She was gone now. There was nothing he could do to bring her back. As he looked at the ring on the corner of the room, so many memories came rushing back to him, causing him more pain. 

“What do you think about marriage?” Y/N had asked him.

“Hmm….I wouldn’t mind it.” He didn’t tell her that it was her that he wanted to marry. The promise ring he had given her was not only to seal his vow that he’d protect and love her forever, it was the promise that someday, he would marry her. 

The ring symbolized what would never happen.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #shirabu x reader #shirabu kenjirou x reader #shirabu x y/n #shirabu kenjirou x y/n #shirabu x you #shirabu kenjirou x you #shirabu imagines #shirabu kenjirou imagines #shirabu angst #shirabu kenjirou angst #the way this one lowkey got me #bye i'm done here #okay update because i wrote the post beforehand #IT HURT SO MUCH #i had to search all these medical things but GODDAMNIT IT HURTS

[cosmiciaria]

Assassin’s Creed Unity Review/honest thoughts/discussion - SPOILERS (long post)

So I decided to finally settle on a proper review – although this one is going to be more of what here in Argentina we call a "sincericidio": basically I will spit my guts out and cry in one corner, while being completely honest about my feelings. I will try to keep most spoilers at bay, like I always do, but there's just one thing I cannot not talk about which is THE spoiler so – I want you to be considered warned.

Before I start, I should state, since this is my review and reviews are quite personal actually, why this game is so important to me and why I wanted to play it so bad. There's a combination of factors, and obviously this game isn't going to strike the same chords with everyone, so bear in mind that this is strictly subjective and, right now, personal.

First factor and I think the most important one: I like writing. Wait, don't leave the review just yet. I like writing and creating characters. I have many. Lately I've been revisiting a character that had a very sad backstory and added quite long happy ending for him. I made him fall in love again. He's black haired, wears a short pony tail… his new love interest is a redhead with wavy hair… ok, you get me now, don't you? And what's worse, is that their story takes place in a fictional world that resembles quite much Europe of 1800's. So clothes and ballrooms and palaces and big, fluffy dresses are a thing in this story of mine. I think that, if you've ever created a character, to find another fictional, similar character in any medium is going to draw your attention to that product right away. It did happen to me with Cal Kestis from SW Jedi: Fallen Order, I have another redhead baby boy that needs to be protected at all costs. It's a way for us to 'see', let's say, or imagine our characters being brought to life.

Second factor: I love Paris. I visited Versailles and Paris back in late 2018, and I went there with zero expectations, only to fall in love with France. I love the Château de Versailles. I love palaces. I love the Seine. I love the Louvre. I love it. All of it. If I could, I'd live there. Sadly, I'm poor and speak little to no French at all.

Third Factor: I'm learning French! I dream with the day I can speak like five languages as well as I speak English (I studied it for ten years so… it kinda makes sense that I feel comfortable with it). I'm still struggling with French, but I will get there someday. I will. Because I love it. I love the language. Oui.

Fourth factor: I also really really, really like the French Revolution, and I've never, much to my surprise, watched or played any series, videogame, movie or anything that takes place in such a context (if you have recommendations, please drop them right away!). And I say "to my surprise" because I really like that part of History! So, to live in almost first person how the French Revolution unfolded – to hear the chansons and to see people gathered in crowds at every corner, listening to a liberty preacher wielding the French flag – that was glorious.

Fifth and yeah we're done: I love Les Misérables. I know it happens way later than the French Revolution, but since this musical (and the 2012 movie) became my 'home', I can't help but feel a stronger connection with everything I said above. I can watch that movie over and over and I will still sing Empty chairs and empty tables with tears in my eyes, despite its flaws.

I had like every reason to play this game. And it paid off.

Before plunging into it, I did read the novelization. Sadly, it was only to satisfy my soon-to-be-fulfilled obsession with the game, since I don't think the quality of the narration was, uhm, that good – it felt like you needed to have played the game before reading it. And I get it, it's a videogame adaptation, that's fine, but when you look at it as standalone book, it doesn't stand alone that good. What disappointed me, though, wasn't the narration, which was what I totally expected it to be, nor the dialogues or the ending – it was Élise. I was bit weary about this because she came across as completely different character than what I had in mind about her, and I didn't like her. At all. In the book, at least. I didn't like her because she had a few comments and took some decisions that made her look like she was stupid and/or selfish. I can understand the selfish part; I do not want to even believe that she's stupid. So that's why the book was a bit of a letdown for me. I recommend it, though, if you're a fan, because there's a book exclusive character that really gets the plot moving and he's endearing: Mr. Weatherall. Oh, what a man.

Now, regarding the game itself – it shouldn't come as a surprise that I thoroughly enjoyed it. As I've stated in another post, this game is barely an Assassin's Creed, since you delve like zero into the AC lore, and it's just an excuse for your character – Arno – to know parkour. Which in fact he knows before becoming an assassin, so it begs the question, why is this game even in this franchise? I digress. It's an AC game at the end of the day and that won't change.

But do not jump into this game expecting it be your average AC story. I firmly believe that the creators wanted to convey a different story here. For starters, Arno is no hero. Arno doesn't want to save the world. Arno doesn't care about any artifact or magic or creed. Arno only wants to discover who's the man behind De La Serre's death. That's his main driving force. And behind that, there's this undeniable and yet quite destructive feeling that pulls him forward: Élise.

Élise and Arno's relationship goes deeper into this story than it's noticeable at first glance. When you look back upon the plot, you discover that without their love 'subplot', there's no plot at all. If I may be so bold, I would even argue that Arno's story is a tragic love story. All the assassin's lore, all the betrayals, the first few assassinations, it all falls back into the background when Élise returns to the stage almost halfway through the game. And even though they only share like one kiss or two during the 40 hours of gameplay, there's still this latent, persistent motivation behind each of Arno's actions, that he wouldn't be doing what he's doing if it wasn't for Élise.

And it all comes down to that one line: What I wanted was you.

I cannot stress enough how much I loved all of the drunkard memory of Versailles. I think it embodies Arno's perfect character development. The constant rain and the bluish filter on every framerate added to the overall depressing atmosphere. I felt miserable while playing those quests, and the moment he steps out into the entrance of the Château de Versailles and reflects on his past decisions – decisions that have been stolen from him, because he could never defend himself nor change the course of actions on his own accord – that exact moment that he sits down and cries, I cried too.

Because all the game, all the memories, all the dialogues go in a crescendo only to crumble into this abyss. And this, in turn, creates a fleshed-out character, with a believable development, believable feelings, believable motivations. I can feel for Arno, I can understand him, I pity him, and I want to hug him. The whole game reaches its peak in its main character's worst moment: when he realizes that he's screwed everything up.

And not always do we get a story where the main character doesn't win. He just doesn't. Underneath its revolutionary streets, this story reeks of inexorability and fatality. You know it, you know it in the back of your head, but you push that thought apart because you want to enjoy jumping over rooftops and finding the best strategy to kill that man. There's this underlying, looming melancholy in every memory that you play in, and that's why the end doesn't surprise us.

It makes us cry, of course, but it didn't come as a surprise at all. If you're shocked about the end, then you haven't been paying enough attention to Élise's dialogues, to the tone of the story, to her letters, to where this plot was going. Because, like I said, the story is about Arno and Élise's relationship, it isn't about defeating the bad guy. And there was only one way that story could end.

*cries in French*

*Je pleure beaucoup*

I know the game has been panned by players for its performance. And being the 2020 year of our lord, I cannot say I reject those allegations, since it's been 6 years since the game was released. I hope enough patches were implemented to salvage the bugs. I only came across one bug in my entire playthrough which bothered me a little: some NPC's would sometimes pop into cutscenes and phase through the characters like nothing. At first it was funny, but then towards the end it happened two more times, in important cutscenes with our lovely couple, which kinda destroyed all immersion, if you know what I mean. The rest was fine: it never crashed on me, I didn't encounter the infamous, horrendous bug that unleashed memes in internet, never a T-pose or something that rendered the game unplayable – nothing, only that funny bug I mentioned. I did see the drop in framerates, specially in very crowded areas – but to be honest I never saw a game with so many NPC's together in the same place, like, hundreds of them, each with unique animations and varied models. I only come from playing Syndicate, and even there the number of NPC's was lower. Here is jarringly unreal, I didn't know the French Revolution was THIS jam-packed with people!

On a graphical department, this 2014 game still holds up. Very well. I think it even looks better in some scenes than some of its successors. The cutscenes were sometimes very cinematographic, with close ups, zoom outs, certain angles, with quite real lighting and shadows. I know it's not Naughty Dog and it doesn't have the whole Sony battalion behind, but damn if some of the character's expressions were really good. It didn't happen often, so when one of them had this very specific face I was like *insert surprised pikachu meme*.

I also enjoyed the music a lot. I don't know why but the one from the main menu stuck with me for a while. All of the songs have this Versailles, aristocratic tone to it which put me in the mood.

I have only one minor complaint and its entirely optional, let's say – I want to platinum this game. But I don't own PS plus, because it's, uhhh, expensive in my country (do not want to indulge in dollar exchange rates right now). And there are like two trophies only obtainable through multiplayer, which renders my trophy hunt useless. But, alas, I knew this before buying the game. I think that games shouldn't come with multiplayer trophies for the platinum. If you have to pay extra for something, it must be completely optional. And so should be the trophies related to it. It's a bit disappointing, though, because after finishing this game I want so bad to return to it, but if I can't platinum, I don't see myself coming back to it soon. Either way, I could still earn the rest of the trophies, but that would only enrage me more when the last 3% is going to be locked forever *cries again*.

All in all, my major question at the end is: why does this game receive so much hate? I guess if I came from a hardcore fan standpoint I could understand it more. If I had played all its predecessors before this one, I would also feel that the gameplay and the objectives are repetitive. That the challenges are bs. But the stealth aspect has been improved, the parkour has been redesigned and adapted, and as of now, bugs aren't a problem anymore. I want to believe that when a remaster for the PS5 comes out or, I don't know, if someone by divine grace has an epiphany in the near future regarding this game, people will change their mind on this one and will appreciate more what it wanted to be, than what they made it to be. After all, this is Arno's story. Arno's tragic love story.

Also this game is beautiful JUST LOOK AT IT LOOK AT IT!!! 

Sorry couldn’t help myself

#assassins creed unity #assassins creed #ac unity #arno x elise #arno dorian #arno victor dorian #elise de la serre #assassins #templars #review #videogame review #ubisoft #assassins creed syndicate #germain #play station 4 #rant #long post #versailles