#what exactly is supposed to happen next? she came to him willingly but does she want to stay?? he needs to get her to stay | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

robinofinashiro · 3 years

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request from anon: “Hi, can I request yandere alphabet for Kyojuro Rengoku 👉👈Thank you and have a good day Queen.”

pairing: yandere! kyojuro rengoku x fem reader

request status: OPENED

A - Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

rengoku does not give a singular fuck who sees him when it comes to giving you affection! you’re in the public? you’ll be holding his hand, kissing your cheek when he feels like it, and if it’s that bad, he’ll do a quickie in the bathroom.

B - Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

very messy! he doesn’t care. if he sees someone getting too close to you, he’ll make sure to get rid of them as soon as possible. he can’t let anyone get close to you. he’ll go to the ends of the earth to make sure that you’re by his side and that no one comes in between the two of you.

C - Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

honestly, he’ll mock the hell out of them when he feels like it’s necessary. if you��re purposely doing things to annoy him or going out of your way to piss him off, he’ll make sure to remind you that you’re never leaving him. other than that, he’ll treat you like you’re a princess! you deserve everything in the world and he’ll give it to you if he feels like you deserve it.

D - Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

despite from the sweet nature that he gives off, he will do ONE thing against your will and that’s to have kids. he needs to continue his family line and since Senjuro isn’t working to be a pillar anymore, he needs to make sure that someone continues that and it might have to be his kid.

E - Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

rengoku, when he feels like the time is right, will bare everything to his darling. come on now, you’re gonna be his wife, right? it’s only right that you know what his baggage is! he doesn’t care if you judge him or not, when it comes to this sort of thing, he kinda wears his heart on his sleeve.

F - Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

he would be kinda pissed. you’re supposed to be this perfect wife/darling and by you acting out, he doesn’t sit well with that. why can’t you be more like Sanemi’s wife? a perfect little darling that just sits there and waits for her husband like she should. punishment is a whole other ballgame that i will touch on later.

G - Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

absolutely tf not. how can this be a game to someone? rengoku is the kinda person where if he meets someone that he falls madly in love with, he’ll stick by you until one of you dies first and even then, he might commit sewerslide if you happen to be the one to go first. however, he might get a kick watching you trying to leave him bc it’s nearly impossible to leave where you’re trapped.

H - Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

rengoku’s affection, jesus christ. that shit could get mad annoying. if he’s had a particularly bad day, just brace yourself and let it happen bc he will be one affectionate mf. it could get to the point where he’ll be affection even into the next day if it’s that bad.

I - Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

literally a picture perfect life. (very much the american dream in a sense). he wants kids, hell, if you want pets of some sort, he’s down to adopt a few dogs or whatever you or your kids want. he just wants everyone to see that his family is perfect and how far he’s willing to go for them.

J - Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

oh absolutely. rengoku is the type of mf that if he sees someone flirting with his darling, he’s ending that shit QUICK. he cannot and will not let it happen. clearly it isn’t your fault so he’ll console you that you had no way of knowing what that scums intentions were and after he’s done with that, he’ll try to find the person to give them a lesson.

K - Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling

he will be very clingy like i said. he wants everyone to know that his relationship is perfect but in private, double that. he’ll make sure that you know you’re loved and that he wouldn’t trade his life with you for anything in the world.

L - Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

he would try the attempt to court you at first. rengoku is someone who is very charming so 8/10 times, it’ll work. however, if you’re being stubborn, that’s when the other side of rengoku comes out. but if you do decide to date him willingly, he’s the sweetest mf ever. he’ll bring you courting gives to every date, etc, etc.

M - Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

honestly, rengoku is seen as the black sheep in the sense that he’s always readily happy and enthusiastic. not much changes when he’s in the public. unless you happen to piss him off in public, seemingly the only time when he would change his personality.

N - Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

he doesn’t try to do it often, he hates seeing you hurt. but if you happen to actually piss him off to the point where you need to be punished, anything ranging from being alone for days to sexual punishment (that i wont be going into detail for).

O - Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

not many tbh. you have free range into his entire estate. however if he has maids working around, they know it’s best for them not to talk to you. he wont let you leave his estate to speak to anyone. you have the right to anything as long as you’re not trying to leave or get into contact with someone. he’ll even let you visit your friends or family as long as he’s there.

P - Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

eh, he’s about 50/50. he can be very patient with you or be ticked off almost immediately. more than likely tho, he’ll deal with your shit most days. the days that he doesn’t, it’s probably bc he had already probably had a bad day and you’re just making shit worse.

Q - Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

if you die, rengoku won’t move on and like i said before, he’d probably commit sleep forever. if you escape, he’ll spend the rest of his days looking for you. regardless if you escape or die, he won’t move on. you’re his and you will remain that way important person in his life.

R - Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

to a certain point, he’d feel guilty. i think the only thing eating him up is the unethical part in all of this. the fact that he’s basically abducted you and refuses to let you go. but will he ever let you go? absolutely not. you’d have to kill him before that happens.

S - Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

i see the only way this happening is bc of his life. his childhood wasn’t the greatest but it wasn’t exactly the worst so idk, i think more than anything it was out of curiosity and probably seeing others do it that make him snap.

T - Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

if rengoku isn’t at fault for making you upset, he’s HEARTBROKEN. he doesn’t like seeing you that way and he’ll find the person that did it and make them pay for it. HOWEVER, if he was the cause of it, he almost turns into a wall and brushes it off, probably murmuring that you deserved whatever it is that made you cry.

U -Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

honestly no. he wouldn’t only bc he’s very much the person that finds the classics of being a yandere as the only way to do it. anything like killing your darling or along those lines are way to extreme for him and he doesn’t like it when others step out of line.

V - Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

SENJURO RENGOKU. his little brother is also his world and i think if you catch kyojuro in a situation where you can exploit senjuro, he might give in but honestly, it probably won’t hurt and it’ll be worse for you when he finally has you alone.

W - Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

like i said before, only if it was necessary. he wouldn’t ever intentionally hurt you if you didn’t deserve it. he doesn’t like seeing you hurt and he hates seeing you cry so only if it came to you being a brat would he then actively physically punish you.

X - Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

ehhhhhh, not really. he sees this relationship as 50/50 however he did kinda worship you when he wasn’t your boyfriend/husband but he would go different lengths in order to win you over. he doesn’t really care what he has to do, he will make you his whether you like it or not.

Y - Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

tbh, it doesn’t take long before he snaps. if he sees you going out with someone and he feels like you might leave him, that’ll be a point. if he sees you being too free, that might be another point. in general, less than a year before he snaps. hell, less than half a year.

Z - Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

mentally, YES! physically, if he needed to. but not to the point where he’s killed you.

#yandere demon slayer #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer #demon slayer imagine #demon slayer x reader #Kimetsu no Yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba imagine #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyojuro rengoku #kyojuro rengoku imagine #yandere kyojuro rengoku

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strawberrystar7 · 3 years

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I think People misunderstood Chloé's arc and the season 3 finale (and especially Chloé's role in it.). And here is why I think that.

This is a really long post and I know it's hard to keep reading something as long as this but please, I ask you, either do not read it at all if you don't want to read something like this or read it completely. If you do decide to read this but stop in the middle because you want to comment on something I ask you to not do that. Please read all of it thoroughly. If you want to comment on something, take notes but don't post it before having read all, because if you do not read all you probably won't understand it correctly. Additionally, some things might have been answered later on in the post.

I think the true lesson the writers wanted to give with Chloé's arc and especially the Season 3 finale is that it's good to be forgiving and give second or maybe even 3rd chances but you shouldn't try and help someone who doesn't want to change. There was a time where she maybe wanted to change... I put the maybe there on purpose. This is because if I look at Chloé's behavior it isn't entirely clear if she ever wanted to change because she wants to help others or if she just wanted to "change" so she can have the Bee Miraculous.

Chloé's arc in actuality was a treason arc. It wasn't a redemption arc. On the surface it may have looked like one but if you look deeper I think you'll see the signs.

I know I am gonna get hate for saying the next bit but if you look closely (and I mean very closely) at Chloé's actions then you'll see what I mean. In season 1 Chloe was a stereotypical bully. In season 2 she actually got a backstory, explaining her actions. It basically made her look more like a real person. But even so her actions didn't really change. She stayed a bully. On surface level her actions did change a little, but on a lower level they didn't.

What do I mean with that? Take Despair Bear as an example she threw a party and invitated all her classmates. In itself that's a nice action but do you remember the reason why she threw the party? Adrien threatened to break up their friendship if she wasn't nicer to people. So her Butler Jean gave her the idea with the party and that she should be nice.

Yeah, I know this happened before the Queen's Battle trilogy (I know it's actually just a 2 part episode (Style Queen and Queen Wasp) but I count Malediktator as a 3rd part because it pretty much is a direct follow up to Queen Wasp.) but this is supposed to serve as an example for Chloé's behavior in season 2.

Now look at Zombizou. Chloé gave Miss Bustier a present the day after her birthday. Do you remember why this happened? Marinette called Chloé out for not having brought one and pretty much embarrassed her infront of the class (I know the way she called her out was mean but that's not the point here). In the end Chloé most likely would never have brought a gift if this didn't happen.

I think this Episode also came before the Queens Battle trilogy but I'm not sure. Anyway even if it was before, it still shows how Chloé behaves most of the time when she does good things.

Now let's look at the Queen's Battle trilogy. In the Style Queen episode we see for the first time how Audrey treats Chloé and while it does explain why Chloé does what she does it doesn't mean her actions are excusable. It makes her actions understandable to the viewers and it makes her, as already mentioned, look more like an actual human being. In that episode we do not really see any more about Chloé and her past or actions besides her finding the Box with the Bee Miraculous.

After that Queen Wasp follows. In this episode the first scene where Chloe plays a rather major role is the scene with Gabriel Agreste, Audrey Bourgeois, André Bourgeois, Tom Dupain, Sabine Cheng, Adrien Agreste, Marinette Dupain-Cheng and of course Chloé Bourgeois. In this scene we see Audrey taking Marinette's feather hat after it rolls infront of her. She inspects it and remarks that it isn't Gabriel's. She then asks if Marinette is responsible for the hat, which Marinette replies to with her having created the hat. You know the rest Gabriel admits she won a fashion contest, Audrey remarks the hat is "exceptional", and then she asks Marinette if she wants to go to New York. That is where Chloé comes in, claiming to never having been in New York. She also asked why she was taking Marinette. Audrey replies with Marinette being "exceptional". Chloé then says that she's "exceptional" too. Audrey then says the following "The only exeptionial thing about you, my dear... is your mother.". I think you know the rest André tries to step in but is interrupted by Chloé who transforms into Queen Bee infront of everyone to proof that she is exceptional.

This wasn't simply to prove her mother wrong tho. She did it to prove to everyone that she's exceptional and her behaviors later on that episode prove that exact point. Queen Bee then disappears.

The others go home and Queen Bee looks around the city to see if there's anything she can do but doesn't find anyone who needs saving. She then thinks of that plan with the train and calls Nadja Chamak to gain publicity for her heroic deeds. As already mentioned this pretty much proves my point. If she really jzst wanted to prove Audrey wrong then why call in one of Paris's star reporters?

After the call she heads towards the metro. She runs on the side of the metro and enters the driver's room. She then Calls out her venom and numbs the driver. The metro speeds up and Queen Bee turns on the metro TV saying she'll save them (this pretty much was to gain even more publicity). Queen Bee isn't able to stop the metro and Ladybug and Cat Noir come in to help stop the metro. Ladybug calls Chloé out for numbing the train driver and Nadja Chamak comes with Audrey Bourgeois on a live call. Audrey then says the following "What? Regarding my daughter's ineptitude? I think it speaks for itself, doesn't it?". Ladybug asks Chloé to give the Miraculous back but Chloé keeps it and runs away with it. Queen Bee then gets akumatized before she transforms back causing her to turn in Queen Wasp. I don't think it's important to mention what happened while she was Queen Wasp because in this case she wasn't willingly akumatized just like Antibug which also means she wasn't herself unlike Chameleon and Miracle Queen who both were willingly akumatized and both kinda knew what happened while they were akumatized.).

When she gets deakumatized Marinette later comes in and tries to help fix Chloé's and Audrey's relationship (atleast as much as it can be fixed) by pretty much insulting both of them and saying "You're also wrong about your daughter not being exceptional. In fact, Chloé is exceptionally mean. She's the worst person I've ever met. She may be more heinous, pompous and selfish than you. Compared to both of you, even a rock seems more capable of love.". Chloé and Audrey then pretty much shout at the same time "How dare you⁈". They then see they do have a lot in common. The episode then pretty much ends after 2 more short scenes (both scenes do not have anything to do with Chloé so I don't think they are important.).

Now let's look at Malediktator. The episode starts with Chloé's documentary about Queen Bee where Chloé-Bee and Chloé-Bug (I'm gonna call her that because that's Chloé with a Queen Bee costume and Chloé with a Ladybug costume) talk about how great of a superhero Queen Bee is. Then it zooms out to reveal that the documentary is watched by Chloé's classmates.

Ivan then points out that isn't Ladybug. Chloé says it is Ladybug and Miss Bustier asks why Chloé did the assignment about herself.

Chloé then says they were supposed to choose an important person in French history. Chloé-Bug talks more about Queen Bee. Alya then points out that's Chloé with a Ladybug costume. This discussion goes on for a bit until Chloé leaves.

Chloé and Audrey then storm in to André's office while a pair is getting married. They force them out and Audrey tells André to close the school while Chloé tells him to ban Marinette and her family.

Audrey then says the following "That monster hurt your little girl’s feelings.". Chloé adds "She got the whole class to gang up on me. They all have to pay.". You probably know the rest. André says he can't do that and Chloé and Audrey leave him alone in his office and say they'll leave for New York. Chloé is then in the Bourgeois suite packing (or more like telling her Butler to pack for her.) André comes in to argue with Chloé and Audrey to stay in Versailles or near Paris.

Hawk Moth akumatizes André after Audrey and Chloé leave with the helicopter.

Chloé flies over the school with her helicopter, throwing flyers showing Chloé in front of the statue of liberty and saying she'll leave for New York. The students celebrate after Chloé leaves.

Malediktator stops the helicopter and says he has the power to close the school and banish the students who were mean to her. He then commands Audrey to be devoted to him and stay in Paris. Chloé runs away/hides. Some time passes and Ladybug goes to Chloé asking her why Malediktator is mad.

Chloé doesn't want to say at first and blames Marinette, then saying André got mad all by himself but then she admits to being the cause of her fathers akumatization.

Then this happens:

Ladybug: Because of what happened in school? I'm sure Marinette probably didn't exactly mean what she said.

Chloé: Oh, it's not just her— actually, I don't even care about her— it's because I have no reason to be here: nobody likes me; I have no friends. I'm… useless.

Ladybug: (remembering what Adrien told Marinette earlier at school about Chloé) A friend once told me: nobody is useless, Chloé.

Chloé: It's easy for you to say that. You're Ladybug, a superhero. You serve a purpose.

Ladybug: Yes, I can fix up all the messes. You said it yourself in your documentary.

Chloé: (gasps) You saw it?!

Ladybug: (nods) Mm-hmm.

Chloé: Oh! I'm so embarrassed. That film's ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. I realize that now.

Ladybug: Don't worry Chloé. You can fix your own messes, if that's what you want. You, too, can serve a purpose, but you have to want to.

Chloé: (sniffles) I do want to.

Ladybug: Chloé Bourgeois, (holds out the Miraculous box) here is the Bee Miraculous, which grants you the power to immobilize your opponent. You will use it for the greater good.

(Chloé hesitates; Ladybug nods approvingly; Chloé takes the box and opens it; a yellow ball of light flies around her and Pollen appears.)

Pollen: At your service, my Queen.

Ladybug: Once the job is complete, you will return the Miraculous to me. Can I trust you, Chloé?

Chloé: (puts the haircomb in her hair) I won't disappoint you this time, Ladybug.

Then Chloé transforms into Queen Bee.

Queen Bee and Ladybug (with the help of Cat!Cat Noir) defeat Malediktator.

Then this happens:

Ladybug: Yep, you missed Queen Bee and Ladybug saving Paris, for real this time.

Queen Bee: I understand, Ladybug. Buzz off. (transforms back into Chloé)

Chloé: (gives back her Miraculous) Being a superhero isn't only about fixing messes. (Ladybug holds up her hand in a fist; Chloé gasps and smiles)

Chloé and Ladybug: (fist-bump) Pound it!

After that Chloé and her family leave.

Then this happens:

Chloé: It's okay, Jean-Yves; I'll take care of it.

Butler Jean: Mademoiselle, are you sure?

Chloé: Yes, I need to do it myself.

Marinette: Chloé?

Chloé: (gasps) Dupain-Cheng?

After that Marinette brings Chloé to the school showing her they threw a party for her. That's pretty much how the episode ends.

I guess this is the episode (Malediktator) that convinced everyone Chloé was changing (and maybe at this point in time she truly did want to change. But I'll explain later on in the text why it did not work out.). After all it literally showed scenes where Chloé was nice without her benefitting from it. And honestly the earlier episodes did not show that Chloé was going to change. The earlier episodes gave depth to her character and kinda explained her actions but they didn't really make her look like she wanted to change. The end of the Malediktator episode tho? It did look like she wanted to change or atleast it made it seem like that. But as I implied Chloé's arc is way more complicated than you think. It can't be just written of as bad or inconsistent writing. Read more and you'll see exactly why this isn't just inconsistent/bad writing.

I don't think we saw much of Chloé in the season 2 finale besides her appearance as Queen Bee again. But honestly I do not remember much about the season 2 finale anyway.

Now let's look at season 3. (I just remembered I forgot about Animaestro. I forgot where in the season that happened but I just put it in the beginning because I feel like it would ruin the flow of the text.) In Animaestro Chloé literally teams up with Marinette to ruin Kagami's day (This was just to show that Chloé still did stuff like in season 1). Anyway, not only is it pretty clear that Chloé would love to be Queen Bee again but she also probably would do anything to be Queen Bee again. So she constantly asks for her Miraculous (seen in Startrain and other episodes) or she pretty much shows everyone how proud she is of being Queen Bee, seeking attention for that (Maledikator). In Miraculer Chloé waits to get her Miraculous but doesn't get it. Then Lila tells Chloé about a fake dance which summons Ladybug. Chloé gets really angry when the dance failed and then lashes out at Sabrina telling her she doesn't want to play with her. Chloé then breaks down after not getting the Miraculous for some time, resulting into the scene where Chloé resists getting akumatized. Instead, Sabrina is the one getting akumatized. Some time later a cataclysmed Cat Noir tries to give Chloé the Miraculous but because of his cataclysmed rips he ends up loosing the Miraculous to Mayura.

You probably know the rest. Rena Rouge makes a Chloé illusion in Ladybug's place, Ladybug gets her powers back, Chloé makes Miraculer even angrier, Ladybug (with the help of Cat Noir, Rena Rouge, Carapace) gets the Bee Miraculous back and gives it to Chloé. Chloé follows Mayura but looses her. After the fight Ladybug talks to Chloé.

This happens:

Queen Bee: Ladybug. Mayura got away from me. I'm sorry, utterly sorry.

Ladybug: That's okay, Queen Bee. We'll get her next time. (reaches hand out for the Bee Miraculous)

Queen Bee: If you'd given it to me earlier, we'd probably would've defeated Hawk Moth.

Ladybug: I'm sorry, Chloé. I should've told you this a long time ago. I might never be able to let you be Queen Bee again.

Queen Bee: What? But I did everything you asked me to.

Ladybug: I know. But this is for your own safety. It's too dangerous for you and your loved ones because Hawk Moth knows that you're Queen Bee.

Queen Bee: Buzz off. (turns back into Chloé and gives Miraculous to Ladybug)

Chloé: I understand. But I'm sure that you'll need me again, Ladybug. I know that I'll be Queen Bee again someday. I will always be Queen Bee.

Ladybug: (notices her Miraculous beeping) Thank you, Chloé. Let's go. (takes off with Rena Rouge and Carapace)

Despite saying that Chloé said she understood she can't have the Miraculous anymore she did not understand.

I know one of the arguments people have was that if Ladybug stayed longer to explain more thoroughly Chloé would have understood. But what do you want Ladybug to do? Risk her identity? She was on her last 5 minutes. Probably less considering how a couple minutes probably flew by from the moment she called out her lucky charm to the moment she called out Miraculous Ladybug. So probably 2 or 3 minutes were already gone from her timer. Additionally, she still needs atleast a minute to not risk her identity getting revealed while she takes Rena Rouge's and Carapace's Miraculous. There was no more time to spare. Despite that I don't really think Chloé would have understood even if Ladybug had more than 2 minutes to spare. Not with how self-centered she is.

Well there had been some smaller incidents with Chloé treating people badly (Animaestro fo example) but that aside those were small moments. I think the next big Chloé moment would pretty much be Heart Hunter and Miracle Queen. Heart Hunter proved that Chloé did not learn from what Ladybug said. She still waited on her rooftop with her Bee signal for Ladybug to come and give her the Miraculous. In the end of the episode we see her so angry at Ladybug for not giving her the Miraculous that she willingly worked with Hawk Moth and actively forcing her will onto Pollen.

This is what happens:

Hawk Moth: (puts up his hand and interrupts) You're right, but I did it for one reason only. So that you would finally realize that Ladybug will never give you the Bee Miraculous again. I, however, always keep my promises. (shows her the Bee Miraculous in his hand)

Chloé: This isn't real! How do you have it?

Hawk Moth: Try it and see for yourself. You're Ladybug's greatest fan. You've helped her, you've trusted her, and what has she done for you in return?

Chloé: (gets angry) Nothing! She couldn't care less about me! I'm done with her. She's irrelevant, utterly irrelevant! (reaches out to grap the Miraculous, stops) I want you to deakumatize has my parents first!

Hawk Moth: Whatever you say, my queen. (Chloé takes the comb and puts it in her hair, releasing Pollen)

Pollen: (urgently) Your majesty, wait!-

Chloé: Silence! You will speak only when spoken to. Your loss, Ladybug. Pollen, buzz on! (transforms into Queen Bee)

She then gets willingly akumatized.

In Miracle Queen we then see her actively work for Hawk Moth, even revealing all the Miraculous Holders. After she gets deakumatized she seems to still have her memory, considering how she wasn't disoriented like every other Akuma Victim. She even jumps after another Akuma.

Chloé also does and says the following "I'm not on your side anymore! How many times have I asked to fight alongside you? And how many times have you refused to give me back my Miraculous? How many, huh? Hawk Moth isn't my enemy, he's yours! And the Miracle Box is mine! (Queen Bee slams down the Miracle Box, and opening it, starts putting on all of the Miraculouses)".

This pretty much proves my point further. Chloé never let go of the Bee Miraculous, thinking it was her own and she had every right to obtain it whenever she wants. The fact that she's only concerned about getting the Miraculous even proves further that she doesn't really care about helping others. All she cares about is her self and as established before this had always been the case. Even in the Queen's Battle trilogy.

Think about it. Chloé is so deadset on keeping the Bee Miraculous that she would do anything. And if I say anything I mean anything. She literally worked with Hawk Moth to get the Miraculous. So if getting the Miraculous and all the attention that comes with it means that she has to help others she'd gladly do it. If helping others means she gets attention she'd gladly do it. We've seen it in Despair Bear and other episodes. Ladybug used to be Chloé's idol so to get her attention she pushed the mind controlled Cat Noir away. To get Adrien's attention she threw the party and was nice to the others. But the moment people didn't look she acted mean. This isn't even the only season 2 or 3 episode this happened. It is totally in character for Chloé to have reacted the way she did in the season 3 finale. Just because she turned bad again doesn't mean she's a 2 dimensional character. She still has the same backstory and all as she had before. The only difference here is that she openly worked with Hawk Moth. So why is she suddenly a horribly written character? Just because she worked with Hawk Moth?

Well let me tell you something: Just look at her relationship with her father. He never denied her anything. He always did everything she wanted. She would throw a tantrum if she doesn't get what she wants. So don't you think it's totally in character for Chloé to react the way she did when Ladybug refused to give her the Miraculous? It's the equivalent to the tantrum of a spoiled rich girl (or boy) would throw if they don't get what they want. The only difference here being that a magical terrorist pretty much took advantage of that tantrum.

As you can see the way she acted was not out of character. It was completely in character for Chloé. In fact, it was so in character that if we've taken the time to truly look at her then we all would have seen it. I gotta admit, I myself got completely deceived the first time I watched Malediktator and Miraculer. I myself thought, maybe she could change (and I still think so). The first time I watched Heart Hunter and Miracle Queen I also thought it was bad writing and I also hated that finale. I thought they did her dirty. I literally blamed the writers like all the others and stated on YouTube how bad of a Episode that was. But now? Now that I actually took the time to rewatch the Episodes (not just the finale but generally any episode) over and over again just to see all the small details people talked about that I never noticed, I noticed those details about Chloé that I didn't before.

People always claim the finale is horrible because they made Chloé out of character... but... In fact, the Season 3 finale is actually good. It may have some plot holes because the writing of the show honestly sometimes isn't the best. There's some episodes that are badly written and have loads of plot holes. But the season 3 finale? It might just be one of the better written episodes. And that only because of the fact that they sticked to how a girl like Chloé would actually react to getting told off like that. And I know for a fact that girls as spoiled as Chloé would react like that because I met a fair share of people like that. They all threw a huge tantrum when they got told off.

Don't get me wrong, I am not saying Chloé doesn't have the potential to change. Infact, she definitely has the potential to change. But not like this. Chloé needs to hit rock bottom before she can actually change. And no, getting told you can't have the Bee Miraculous anymore is not rock bottom. The first thing that needs to happen is for her father to stand up to her. And as seen in (⚠️Season 4 Spoiler warning⚠️) Queen Banana André finally did stand up to Chloé. If he keeps that up that might be good start (⚠️End of Spoiler⚠️). After Chloé doesn't get everything she wants from her father anymore there's two things that can happen: Either she becomes a complete lost cause and doesn't learn anything from it or rather she doesn't want to learn or she learns that not everything will always go her way and that she can't have everything (specifically the Bee Miraculous, as you can't buy it.). This also might cause her to become less selfish and start thinking more about the others. Even if that doesn't happen maybe Zoé (because she's Chloé's half sister) or Adrien (because he is/was Chloé's childhood best friend and would love to help her) could come in to help Chloé become less selfish. But again for that to happen Chloé first needs to learn that not everything goes how she wants it and she can't have everything. And again this won't happen if everything is handed to her like it has been all these years.

Please understand that I am not hating on Chloé. Chloé may even be one of my favorite characters for the exact reasons I mentioned here. Because even tho she's a stereotypical bully she has depth to her character. And if she'll ever truly change she'd might just become one of the more relatable characters in the show.

And I know I am none of the writers so I do not know what they thought while writing the finale and the rest of Chloé's arc but to me this seems like the most logical explanation. I do not think the writers hate Chloé. That just makes no sense. They have developed her past and backstory and stuff like that way too much for them to hate her. If they truly hated her I don't even think they would have developed her character like that. If they truly hated her they would have left her like Lila with little to no information about her past or basically anything that explains her actions.

So please, I ask you please do not harass the writers for their decisions. Just please for once try to understand their thought process. Maybe you just didn't truly understand what they meant because as I explained Chloé's arc was deceiving. On the surface it looked like a redemption arc but truly it wasn't.

I am not claiming to have fully understood what the writers where trying to say but I do think I got close to what they were trying to say. I am also very sorry if I might have not been able to explain some of the points well. While I did rewatch every episode while writing this I did not want to put in every single episode (which might have gotten my points across even better) as the post has already gotten way too long. Not many people like to read much so probably only a few will even have read this completely. But to those who did take the time to read it all, thank you for having taken the time. I'd really like to hear your opinion on my take on this topic. Because while I do think this might be somewhat close to what the writers where trying to do it most likely isn't exactly what they wanted. I'd really like to hear your opinion on my take on this topic. Because as I said while I do think this might be somewhat close to what the writers where trying to do it most likely isn't exactly what they wanted. Maybe some of you have something to debunk or maybe even strengthen my points. Both is fine as long as everyone's nice towards each other. I do not want to see some kind of war. So please be kind towards each other.

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #chloé bourgeois #heart hunter #miracle queen #mlb fandom #miraculous analysis #mlb #mlb analysis #chloe salt #mlb season 3 #miraculous season 3 #miraculous season 2 #malediktator #queen wasp #style queen

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calpalirwin · 3 years

Text

Phantom Pain

Summary: Trauma bonding turns into a full blown crush with Bucky

Word Count: 2.9k

And away, and away we go!

You heard the startled gasps behind you as you lowered your body before pulling yourself up on the pull up bar again. “Yes?” you questioned, repeating another rep.

“I-I-I-” a teenage boy's voice stuttered. “Mr. Stark!” he yelled in slight panic.

You sighed, letting go of the bar and landing on your feet. “Yes?” you repeated, turning to face the lanky teenager with his mop of brown hair, and his companion, a girl a few years older, stifling giggles into her hands, both of their cheeks flushed. “Oh,” you said in realization. “You must be Peter. Uh, Tony’s in the lab, I think.”

Peter nodded mutely, before quickly dashing out of the training room, leaving you face to face with the young woman. “Gay,” you said simply. “And I think Vision’s with Tony.”

Her blush deepened, as she too, hightailed it out of the room with a muttered “Tony has a brother?”

You chuckled quietly to yourself. Of course your brother wouldn’t have told his newest members about you. Something about it not being vital information, and liking the shock value of it.

“And this is the training room,” a voice you did recognize said as Steve came into your line of sight, a man matching his stature trailing behind him silently. “Oh, hey, Stark.”

“Capsicle,” you greeted with a salute.

“Stark?” the other man asked in confusion. “I thought-”

“Fortunately there’s two of us,” you corrected. “Or unfortunately, depending on your opinion of Starks in general. Y/N,” you introduced yourself, offering out your hand.

“Bucky,” the man said, shaking your hand.

“Nightmares, again?” Steve asked you, his eyes glancing about the room.

“Sometimes you frighten me with how observant you are, Rogers,” you said grimly.

“Nightmares?” Bucky questioned, intrigue painting the features of his perfectly sculpted face.

“An unfortunate lingering side effect of my time in the Army, yeah,” you explained. “Something I’m sure you can relate to,” you added with a pointed glance at Bucky’s left arm which was completely metal, your mind already curious to how it worked, and how to make it better. “Working out helps. Something about physical exertion canceling out mental exertion.”

“Well, I might have to join you some time. See if your theory holds up.”

You held out your arms, gesturing about the giant training room. “Feel free. Everything here is open 24/7 to accommodate the mad geniuses and PTSD freaks.”

“And which one are you?” Bucky asked. And you knew it was a stupid question given what little information you had already provided him with. But you could also recognize a flirting edge when you heard one.

“I feel like the answer’s obvious. But, in the event that it’s not, I’m both. Pleasure to meet you, Bucky. And welcome to Avengers headquarters.”

~~~

A couple nights later, you were in the lab tinkering about, when you saw Bucky walk by in gym shorts and a tank top, his hair pulled back in a small bun. “Can’t sleep, huh?” you called out.

His body tensed as he whirled around, relaxing when he saw it was you. “Yeah. Thought I’d try out your theory.”

“It’s a good theory,” you assured, before refocusing on what you’d been working on.

“You have a lot of faith in a theory I’ve yet to test for myself,” Bucky said, stepping into the lab with you.

“I don’t do faith. I do facts,” you replied bluntly.

“Mmm, then how do you know it’s a good theory?”

“A good theory isn't whether it’s proven to be correct or not. A good theory is about being able to be repeated and replicated. Tested multiple times over and over. My theory just also happens to be correct.”

“Wow, you are a Stark.”

“I’m not an idiot, is what you mean. But rest assured I don’t have the same level of arrogance my brother inherited from our father. Or at least, I like to believe I don’t. But, results don’t lie. The physical exertion that comes from working out is enough to distract the brain from the mental exertion that comes from unwanted memories. Is it perfect? No, because it’s not a cure. But it does well enough anyway. And you can take my word for it. Or Rhodey’s, or Sam’s, or Steve’s. And that’s just the military crew. Or, you can test it for yourself. As I said, it’s a good theory. Very testable.”

Bucky’s tongue clicked in his cheek. “Mmm, and if it’s such a good theory, why are you here in the lab instead of in the training room?”

“A distraction, is a distraction, is a distraction. And I have work to do.”

“And what is it that you’re working on?” he asked, stepping closer to peer over your shoulder.

“Prosthetic limbs for amputees. Ones that aren’t hunks of metal. No offense.”

“None taken. I didn’t exactly get a say in the matter.”

“Right… Sorry…”

“No, don’t apologize. Something more… realistic looking would be nice. But the metal’s worked so far. Enhances already enhanced abilities.”

A shudder went down your spine. “Right. Super soldier strength mixed in with whatever tech is loaded up in that thing. I’ve taken a lot of hits in my day that I’d hate to experience again, but I’d do it if it meant a guarantee of never being on the receiving end of being hit by that. Like… the damage you were able to inflict on Tony, even in his suit…” you let out a low whistle. “Damn… no thanks.”

“Sorry? I think?”

You laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “Please. It’s not that he didn’t deserve it. The amount of times I wish I could clock him myself… My only regret was having not been there to actually see it.”

“Why do I get the feeling you and Tony don’t actually get along?”

“Oh, we do. It’s just… typical sibling shit, I suppose. We had different ways of coping with our parents dying. He went the standard billionaire spoiled brat route. I went to the Army. He took over the company. I stayed in the Army. He realized the damage the company was actually doing and became Iron Man. I was part of that damage.”

“Shit…”

Again, you waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t get me wrong. He’s my older brother. I love him. He’s rectified a lot of his past by helping turn Stark Industries into the Avengers. He's, dare I say, gained a conscience. But he’s also far from perfect. Still too arrogant for his own good. But I like him a lot better these days than I used to. I mean, I’m here.”

“So… you work for him? Doing what exactly?”

“Yes, and no. I live and work here, yes. But I don’t necessarily work for my brother. I help him and Bruce out a lot. Perks of not being an Avenger myself means I’m here to keep working when they’re gone. But, for the most part I keep to myself doing my own project.”

“Right, the prosthetic limbs. Personal reasons?”

“Yeah, you could say that. Seen my fair share of wounded vets. And seen my fair share of their struggle with shitty prosthetics. And even if they are complete shit, they’re also expensive. But I’m in a position where I can make non-shitty ones and, pun not intended, not have them cost people an arm and a leg. So, that’s what I do. Each prototype gets me closer and closer to making them as realistic as possible. Restoring range of motion you won’t get with cheap plastic wrapped around steel. It’s like… a complete limb transplant. Or that’s the ultimate goal anyway. Make prosthetics so real it’s like you never lost a limb in the first place.”

“That’s… noble of you.”

You shrugged. “Let’s just say I have a soft spot for broken things.”

Bucky smiled at that.

~~~

For the next handful of months, it wasn’t uncommon for Bucky to find you awake in the lab, or for you to find him awake in the training room.

Some nights, the two of you would work out your frustrations of the memories that haunted you both, and you’d tease him about how it wasn’t fair you always drenched through your shirt while he barely broke a sweat, smiling at the way he’d laugh.

Other nights, the two of you would swap war stories while he watched you work in the lab, and when you gathered up the courage to ask to run tests on how the tech in his arm worked to further your own research, he willingly obliged.

“So… were you just an enlisted soldier, or an officer?” he asked one night while you tinkered away.

“An officer. Made First Lieutenant.”

“That’s just below Steve. Which…”

“Is still lower than Sergeant, yes,” you laughed. “Technically anyway. But as an officer, I would still outrank you.”

“What happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… no offense, but First Lieutenant isn’t exactly brag worthy. I imagine you meant to go further. What happened? Was it the damage you mentioned with Tony?”

You nodded. “Yeah. The same accident that started his whole Iron Man gimmick was the same accident that ended my career.”

Bucky nodded, and you knew he wanted to ask more, but didn’t want to pry or overstep. And you were grateful for that. It was one thing to own up that your PTSD stemmed from an incident that ended your military career. It was also one thing to own up to how your experience in the military drove you towards creating prosthetic limbs. But to admit that there was a deep personal connection between the two? That wasn’t something you liked to fess up to. “I’m sorry,” Bucky finally said, feeling the need to say something about your half confession. To acknowledge it without asking more.

You smiled wryly at him. “It’s f-” Your face twisted, and your fingers white-knuckled the table as pain flashed through your leg.

Bucky’s eyes went wide. “You okay?” he asked, moving around the table towards you, his hands hovering nearby in case you fell.

“Knife!” you gasped out, gritting your teeth and humming loudly to keep from screaming out in the pain you knew wasn’t real. “Get me a knife!”

Bucky stood there, frozen, staring at you in horror.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” you barked at him. “I know you have a knife on you! Give it to me! That’s an order, Sergeant!”

That snapped Bucky into action. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, rummaging in his pockets. “Here!”

The sharp steel glinted in the lights as you took it from him and promptly shoved it deep into your right shin.

“What the fuck?!” Bucky yelped, jumping back. “WHAT THE FUCK?!” he repeated when no blood came pouring out of the wound as you yanked the knife back out.

“Aaaahhhh,” you sighed in relief, the pain ebbing away. You relaxed the tension in your body, breathing slowly. “Fuck… hate when that happens.”

“What… the… actual… fuck?” Bucky asked for a third time in a low whisper.

“Relax, it’s fake,” you said, flashing the knife. “See? No blood.”

“I- I-” he stammered.

“It’s called phantom limb pain. Happens in amputees all the time.” You took a seat, pushing up your pant leg to your knee, detaching the prosthetic and tossing it uselessly onto the work table. “Piece of shit,” you muttered, before pulling a tape-recorder out of your pocket. “Prototype 27. Failure, as of,” you spared a glance down at the date on your watch, speaking that into the tape recorder as well. “What?” you asked Bucky who was staring at you with his mouth hanging open.

“That explains… so much. But… why didn’t you just tell me?”

You shrugged. “It’s not something I tell people. Lost my leg in an explosion caused by weapons my family made? Yeah, not exactly a conversation starter.”

“I get that, but… c’mon. It’s me.” He gestured at his left arm.

“Yes, you who- and please don’t take offense to this- doesn’t remember the trauma of losing his arm, and has never experienced the pain that is phantom limb pain.”

“I don’t remember the trauma thanks to years of more trauma that is being brain-washed, and having my mind controlled,” he replied in a clipped tone.

“Yes, the entire world is aware of your trauma, Barnes. Must be nice to have people be aware of what you’ve gone through.”

“People would be aware of what you’ve gone through too, if you’d tell us instead of hiding in jeans and sweatpants!”

“Why would I tell people?! For sympathy?! Or to hear them tell me that I deserved it?! Because news flash, both of those outcomes fucking suck!”

His face crumpled. “Why would anyone think you deserved this?”

You scoffed at his naivety. “It’s poetic justice, Bucky. My own family took my leg. They took Tony’s heart, too, but hey! Look what he made as a result! Isn’t it fuckin’ marvelous?! Tony Stark loses his heart, but gains a soul. Y/N Stark. Loses his leg, and nobody cares.” The words were bitter on your tongue.

“You don’t strike me as the pity party type.”

“I’m not. That’s why I don’t tell people. And yes, maybe there’s a selfish part of me that does what I do strictly for me. Maybe I never would have thought to do all this if I wasn’t an amputee myself. But I’m here, and I’m doing it. And I’m not going to use my story to gain attention and credit that I don’t even want in the first place. Tony thrives in the spotlight. Me? Never been my thing.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I think your project’s pretty great. And I don’t see your personal attachment to it as a hindrance. If anything, I bet it pushes you further. To keep trying, even when what you have is already worlds better than what’s available already. But I also get wanting to keep parts of you to yourself. The sympathy vote isn’t the best feeling.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled. “And I’m sorry for what I said about how it must be nice to have people aware of your trauma. Well… I’m sorry for how I said it. There’s quite a laundry list of things that will turn me into an asshole, and phantom limb pain ranks pretty high on that list. But I didn’t mean it as an attack, and if it came across that way, I do apologize.”

“Don’t worry about it. To an extent you’re right. The whole world knowing what happened to me… it dulls the shock value of a lot of things. Justifies a lot of my actions. So, for the most part, it’s incredibly beneficial. But sometimes I wish I could just… I dunno. Be Bucky without people making their assumptions about what that means.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I try to make it a habit of drawing my own conclusions about people rather than listening to the assumptions others have made about them. So, at least with me, you can be Bucky, and that can be however you want it to look.”

“Thanks. I’d uh… I’d like that.” He smiled softly at you, and you smiled back, watching as a blush crept over his face. “Um… Are you going to need help back to your room? Cuz I can help, if you need me to.” The blush grew darker as he shifted his eyes about the room.

“Uh…” you stammered, a blush coming to your own face. Normally when you tossed aside a rejected prosthetic, you either stayed in the lab until you made a new one, reattached the useless one and begrudgingly dealt with it until you felt up to making a new one, or, in super rare cases when you were sure you were alone, wheeled yourself about the headquarters in a chair. But, here was Bucky, offering to help hobble you off to your room. And the thought of him helping support your weight, or God forbid carry you was enough to make your heart sped up. “Even without the weight of a leg, I’m still not exactly light, or small,” you told him. You weren’t as tall as Bucky, that was true, and you certainly didn’t have super soldier serum running through your veins. But you were still very much the standard rugged American soldier type with broad shoulders and well-defined muscles of your own.

Bucky just scoffed at the notion before picking you up in his arms.

“Jesus, fuck!” you exclaimed, throwing an arm around his neck to help support your weight as he headed for the door of the lab. “I swear if you drop me…”

Bucky chuckled, his chest rumbling into your side. “Relax. I’m not gonna drop you. Now, tell me where I’m going.”

You rattled off the quickest route to your room, both hating the vulnerability of being carried in his arms, and loving the security of it.

“See?” he beamed proudly, as he set you on your bed. “Told ya I wouldn’t drop you.”

“Thanks…”

“Anytime.”

“Bucky, wait,” you called out when he turned to leave. “Um… Would you mind maybe staying?”

“Here? With you? In your room?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, the 1940s gentleman thing is real charming.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s um… You know I’m gay, right?”

“Well… That makes the, uh… oh, I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but that makes having a crush on you a lot easier. Or a lot worse, depending on how things go.”

He blinked at you in confusion, not sure if he was hearing you correctly.

“I like you, Bucky. So are you gonna stay?”

He grinned, happily walking back over to you. “I like you too. And yeah, I’ll stay.”

Tag List

@cxddlyash @stanofalotofthings @philthepegacorn @youngblood199456 @binxiboo @creator-appreciator @felixtok @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @jessalyn-jpeg @lilyoflower @mychemicalimagines @rougese7en @milea @partiesandblurrypolaroids @summerdaughter

#phantom pain #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #male reader #reader!stark #marvel #avengers #calpal irwin

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starshine583 · 3 years

Text

New Girl on the Block (19)

(Hey, everyone!!! Thank you so much for your patience while I was away. It’s good to be back! I hope you all enjoy this next chapter!)

Ch. 1 / Ch. 18 / Ch. 20 (ao3)

Chapter 19: A Date with Misery

“Marinette, you are.. an incredible person.”

“You don’t need anyone to validate how amazing you are.”

“You are talented, kind, and capable all on your own.”

Felix’s words from the night before played over in Marinette’s mind again and again, an endless loop that she found herself incapable of escaping, and with each echo, her heart seemed to melt further than she thought possible. The comments were simply too honey-sweet, too sincere. She couldn’t help reveling in them. How long had he thought of her that way? How long had he placed her on such a high pedestal that she wasn’t aware of? Marinette knew that Felix had a tendency to make unexpected comments every now and then, but last night truly caught her off guard.. and perhaps made her just a tad bit love-stricken. Had he always spoken to her in that soft manner, the one that made her believe she could be the very stars in his night sky? Had he always possessed the ability to send her heart fluttering the way it did last night, when he allowed her to pull him onto the dance floor and hold him incredibly close? She had no way of knowing, and certainly not enough nerve to ask aloud. But, oh, how her mind ran rampant with fantasies anyway. Will she ever be able to dance with him like that again? Would he look at her the same way he had then, with eyes that felt soft as a cloud in the moment? Did he go home last night and think about her too, endlessly turning on his bed and glancing at his diary- if he kept one, that is -and thinking maybe just one more entry-

“Marinette?”

Marinette jumped, nearly falling off of the ladder that she’d been balancing on, and felt a blush explode across her cheeks.

“Nothing! What? I mean-” She flailed her arms a bit to regain balance, then peeked down at the person below, the very boy she’d been fantasizing about “-Did you need something?”

Felix stood at the base of the ladder, his brows furrowed slightly. “..No. I just wanted to know if there was something wrong with your heart.”

Marinette sputtered, her blush deepening considerably. She couldn’t have been that obvious, right? What expression was she making before he came over?

“M-My heart?” She asked- or rather, squeaked.

Felix pointed to a stream of hearts on the wall, the ones she was supposed to be taking down. “You were staring at one of the hearts for quite a while. Is it ripped?”

“Oh.” She said, staring blankly at the wall. The paper hearts. He meant the paper hearts hanging next to her. Not her heart specifically. That made a lot more sense. “No, sorry. The hearts are fine. I was just, uh.. you know.. reminiscing. We had a lot of fun times with these decorations.”

“Ah,” Felix tilted his head up in a slight nod, “my apologies for interrupting you then.”

“Oh, you didn’t.” Marinette assured hastily. “It really wasn’t anything important.”

Definitely wasn’t anything important..

She plucked out the pin that held the hearts and started down the ladder to move to the other end of the stream. Felix offered a hand to help her down in the process, and she took it, strongly ignoring the tingling sensation that came from doing so.

“If you’d like to keep one as a memorial, I’m sure Allegra wouldn’t mind.” He remarked. “I doubt she’s going to keep any of these things herself after all the parties they’ve had.”

Marinette hummed. Keeping a heart streamer as a memorial, huh? That didn’t sound like a bad idea.

“Thanks. I just might do that.”

Felix gave her the tiniest of smiles, the kind Marinette was used to catching at this point, and slipped his hand out of hers when her feet hit the ground. She clasped her hands together afterwards to compensate, also ignoring the fact that it might have been nice for him to hold her hand just a tad bit longer.

“Would you like help moving the ladder?” He asked, to which she shook her head.

“I’ve got it, but if you could move the box over to the other round table while I move the ladder, I would be grateful.”

Allegra had given her an empty box to put the decorations in as she took them off of the wall. So far, Marinette had exactly.. zero decorations in the box. Gosh, how long had she been staring at that heart? Was she going insane? Why would she even be thinking about Felix this way? He’d just told her last night that he wasn’t interested in romance. Falling for him would be guaranteed heartbreak! It would be completely ridiculous! It would.. It would..

It would probably be inevitable.

Felix was just too sweet to her, too kind. He was always looking out for her and supporting her, always sharing his quiet laughs and amused smiles, and he said too many things that made her head spin for her not to start liking him. There was just no escape! It was going to happen eventually. The only question now was when.

And maybe today was her answer.

Stop it. Marinette scolded herself as she picked up the ladder to walk it over. It’s just some butterflies in your stomach. How many of those did you digest around Adrien?

Marinette froze midstep, an immense sense of horror washing over her. Oh, gosh, this wasn’t going to be another Adrien situation, was it? It couldn’t be. She refused to go through that again. At least not this soon.

Marinette continued walking, if only to avoid Felix’s suspicions, and set up the ladder under the next pin that was holding up her stream.

When you think about it, this really can’t be another Adrien situation, right? With Adrien, she had no idea whether he liked her or not, but was hopeful despite that and used her friends in an effort to gain his attention. With Felix, she already had her answer. She knew for a fact that he didn’t like her romantically, that he wouldn’t ever like her romantically, and she also hadn’t asked any of her new friends to help her gain Felix’s attention. (Though, in all honesty, she probably wouldn’t need help even if she was looking for his attention, because he already gave it to her willingly on a constant basis, but that thought didn’t exactly help her cause.)

“Is here alright?” Felix asked as he set the box on the end of the round table.

Marinette nodded, scaling the ladder to pluck the next pin. “Yep. That’s great, thank you.”

“Of course. If you need anything else, I’ll be wrapping the candles and putting them in boxes.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” She said, pulling a smile.

No, this wasn’t going to be anything like her crush on Adrien. This time she at least had closure before she began, and although it might be just as heart-shattering in the long run, she won’t be wasting her time wondering “what if” or tripping over herself to become his dream girl in an effort to be ‘chosen’. She’ll simply be his friend, as he’s been to her, and if she’s lucky, this sort-of-tiny-little crush of hers will wither away before it grows into a bigger problem.

After all, it’s like Felix said: She’ll find someone new who appreciates her eventually. It just.. won’t be him. The sooner she took this lesson to heart, the better.

Marinette plucked the next pin out of the wall, watching the stream of hearts fall into the box below, and started back down the ladder again. That’s one down. Five to go.

She paused at the bottom of the ladder, ready to pull it together so she could pick it up and move it again, when her phone started buzzing in her pocket. She quickly shimmied it out to check what the buzzing was for, only to be met with the flashing words “Adrien Agreste - Café”.

It was her alarm clock telling her that it was time to go meet Adrien for lunch. And it couldn’t have picked a worse time. She still had five other heart streamers to take down, and at this rate she was going to have to run half way across town just to make it on time. Ugh- why didn’t she set her alarm clock earlier?

“Hey, guys?” She called out to the group, tucking her phone back into her pocket. “I hate to say it, but I actually need to get going. I’m sorry I couldn’t help out more.”

If she hadn’t stopped every two seconds to daydream about somebody-

“Oh, don’t worry about it!” Allegra called back with a smile. “You’ve helped out plenty.”

“Yeah,” Claude agreed. “This was our party anyway.”

“I know, but I only managed to get one of the streamers down.” Marinette sighed.

“But you also helped fold all of the tablecloths and put them away.” Allan reminded her.

“And you swept the room after the trash was taken care of.” Allegra added.

“Go have fun at your appointment thing or whatever. We’ve got everything covered here.” Claude assured, emptying the water from another flower vase.

Marinette smiled as she grabbed her purse from one of the round tables. Her friends were so great, each and every one of them.

“I’ll see you guys later then.”

“See ya!”

“Bye, Mari!”

“Do you want me to call my driver for you?” Felix asked, briefly setting his candles aside. “It’s quite a walk from here to your house, isn’t it?”

“Thanks, but I’m good. I can have Maman and Papa come to pick me up if I start running late.” Or she can transform into Ladybug and swing right over to Adrien herself, which was exactly what she planned on doing. “I’ll text you guys when I get there, though.”

That seemed to satisfy Felix, because he nodded and continued placing his candles in the box. “I’ll be waiting to hear from you then.”

Marinette pursed her lips and spun towards the door, hoping he didn’t notice the fresh blush that was creeping across her cheeks. Gosh, how was she ever going to survive this boy? Maybe Adrien’s presence will give her a good slap in the face and bring her back to her senses.. She highly doubted it though. With her track record, she’ll probably end up falling for Adrien again too, and then she’ll be stuck between two unrequited crushes! Great!

..Why does she always have to fall for the people who don’t love her back?

~~~~~~~

Wind rushed past Chat Noir’s face as he raced across the rooftops, his grin stretching wide from ear to ear. Today was the day! It was finally the fifteenth! In just a few short blocks, he was going to meet Marinette at their agreed café, and they were going to have a whole lunch together just to themselves! It made him buzz with excitement at the very thought, because finally his plans were progressing. Finally he was gonna have a long, drawn out chat with Marinette as Adrien, and perhaps, if he had gained even the slightest bit of luck from his partner, he would be able to convince her to transfer back to Dupont. Or at least have her consider it. She probably shouldn’t come back right this second.

Chat Noir landed on a rooftop and slid down the tiles with glee, but before he could leap to the next rooftop, a red and black-spotted figure flew out in front of him. He stumbled back with a yelp, staring at the person with wide eyes as they sailed onto the rooftop across from him. Was that..?

“My Lady?” He called out, pushing himself back onto his feet. What was she doing out at this time of day? It wasn’t like her to be out and about during daylight when no akumas were present.

Unless there is an akuma. Chat realized with horror. He glanced around the city, looking for explosions or destruction of some kind. Please, let there not be an akuma. That would mean he’d have to skip out on his lunch with Marinette! And he’d worked so hard just to get her there!

The spotted figure turned around- proving that it was, in fact, his wonderful Ladybug -and flashed him her signature, Lady-Luck smile. “Oh, Chat Noir! I didn’t realize you would be out today.”

Chat Noir returned her smile and hopped over to her rooftop. “I could say the same to you, Bugaboo. Is an akuma on the loose again?”

“No, not that I’m aware of.” She assured, to his relief. “I just had some free time and thought I would do a small patrol around the city to make sure everything’s still in order.”

Chat Noir chuckled. That’s His Lady for you. Never ceasing to protect Paris. Could she ever become more amazing?

“Sounds like a great idea. I’d be tempted to join you, but I’m actually on my way home already. I’ve been out for a while.” He said, though none of it was true. He hadn’t been out for a while, and he certainly wasn’t running home, but Ladybug was extremely strict on the ‘keeping identities a secret’ policy. If he let something about his civilian life slip- like, say, meeting someone at a cafe about five minutes from now to talk about school transfers -she’d get upset and scold him for divulging too much information. It wasn’t fun lying to the person he was supposed to trust the most, but this was the set up that they’d decided to use.

“That’s alright. I wasn’t planning on staying out long anyway.” Ladybug replied. “I’ll see you during our next patrol?”

“Or attack.” Chat Noir agreed, giving her a little wink before he took off again. This time he turned to the left of the café, moving in a direction that was somewhat opposite of it. He didn’t want Ladybug seeing where he was going- again, secret identities -but, he also didn’t want to stray too far from his and Marinette’s meeting place, or else he was going to be late. So, he figured he could find a comfortable alleyway about a block or two away from his destination and simply run the rest of the way on foot.

Thank goodness he did, because as soon as he turned left, Ladybug swung off in the exact direction he’d originally been heading. Can you imagine if they’d started going the same way? The explanation for that one would have been awful, he’s sure.

Chat Noir dropped down into an alleyway a few minutes later, just as planned, and detransformed back into Adrien. Running around Paris in his civilian form probably wasn’t going to be any easier than jumping rooftops, but at least he didn’t run into any problems with His Lady. That was a plus, right?

“Ugh,” Plagg groaned as he swirled back into the air, “remind me again why we had to waste my precious energy on a lunch date?”

“Come on, Plagg, you know I hate having Gorilla hover over my shoulder.” Adrien said, offering his kwami a slice of cheese. Gorilla does his best to give Adrien as much space as possible, but still, when you know someone is there specifically to watch you.. “Besides, it’ll give Marinette and I more privacy while we talk.”

Plagg gave a dismissive sigh as he snatched the cheese from Adrien’s hands. “Oh, that’s right. We’re still on pigtails.. I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with her. It’s not like she died or anything.”

Adrien frowned. “I’m not obsessed. I’m just trying to be a good friend. She’s always been there for all of us. So why shouldn’t I be there for her?”

“Mm.. Does this really count as being there for her, though?” Plagg asked as he shoved the first half of the cheese into his mouth.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re trying to be there for her by bringing her back to Dupont, right? Well, she seems perfectly happy at her new school to me. So why not leave her be? If you want to be there for her, don’t you think you should be supporting her decisions?”

A bit of guilt festered in Adrien’s chest, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I.. get what you’re saying, but I want her back too. I want to hang out again and talk like we used to.”

“You’re about to talk with her right now.”

“You know what I mean. I want to talk with her daily, like we do at school.”

“Then, why don’t you transfer schools?”

Adrien let out a small chuckle. “And leave Nino? I couldn’t do that to him.”

“Okay~, but don’t say I didn’t warn you if things don’t work out the way you want them to.” Plagg said. He then shoved the rest of the cheese into his mouth and zipped into Adrien’s shirt pocket.

Adrien furrowed his eyebrows, but didn’t reply, instead starting for the cafe. Why would Plagg say something like that? Of course everything was going to work out! Yes, Marinette was happy at her new school, and yes, getting her to come back to Dupont might be a tad tricky (especially since he had to deal with Lila first) but that didn’t mean his plan was going to fail. He simply needed to remind Marinette that she loved being at Dupont too! More so than Rosemary even! It’ll be alright. Plagg will see.

With little time to spare, Adrien booked it to the café, careful to keep his head down and not catch the eyes of the media. Thankfully, he made it there in one piece, albeit five minutes late. It should be fine, though. If anyone were to understand missing the mark for an appointment, it would be her, right?

Adrien slipped his phone out of his pocket as he walked inside to check for any new messages from the ravenette, then silenced it when he saw that there were none. He didn’t want this precious time to be interrupted.

The bell on the café door jingled above him when he entered, reminding him of a certain bakery. He glanced around the room for Marinette hopefully, then lit up when he caught sight of a pair of ravenette pigtails at a table in the middle of the room. Yes! She was here!

Adrien wasted no time strolling over the table, tapping the top of her head to get her attention. She jumped- as she usually does -and whirled around with wide eyes.

“Hey, Marinette.” He greeted with a smile.

“Adrien!” She said, letting out a nervous laugh. “Y-You’re here.”

“Yeah!” He chirped, slipping into the seat across from her. “Sorry I’m late. I ran into a bit of traffic on the way here. How have you been? Did you have a good Valentine’s Day?”

Marinette settled back into her chair as well, pulling a small, tight smile. “It’s alright.. I’ve been pretty good, and my Valentine’s Day was wonderful. How was yours?”

“Oh, you know,” Adrien shrugged, “same as always. I got some cards from a few fans and did a special photoshoot for my father, but that was about it. I tried to go see Nino or something, but he was with Alya, so..”

“Aw, I’m sorry. I wish it could have worked out better.”

“No, it’s fine.” He quickly assured. “I’m used to it. Besides, Nino and I have actually been hanging out a lot more during the winter break.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, “That’s good then. You deserve the free time.”

Adrien smiled. What a very ‘Marinette’ thing to say. “Thanks. Have you ordered anything yet?”

She shook her head. “No, I figured I’d wait for you.”

“Then let’s go get some food.” He said, standing from the table again. “I’m starving.”

Marinette stood with him, and they made their way over to the line that led to the service counter. It wasn’t long, thankfully, only holding about three people or so. They should be back at the table in no time.

“So, are you enjoying your new school life? I heard you transferred to Rosemary.”

“Yeah, I’ve been having a great time,” Marinette said, a bit too cheerful for Adrien’s liking, “but I do have a question. How did you know I transferred to Rosemary?”

“Oh, uh..”

Would she accept ‘my good friend Chat Noir’ as a proper answer?

“..Mlle Bustier. She announced to the class that you had transferred, and when I asked about it afterwards, she told me that you went to Rosemary.”

A hum came from Marinette, the corner of her lips tugging downwards. Why was she frowning? Did he say something wrong?

“Is that a problem?” He asked.

“Oh! No.” Marinette replied hastily. “Well.. sort of. I’m just worried that if she told you, then she’d be willing to tell other people.. Like Lila or Alya.”

Ah.. She made a good point. Her whereabouts could be spread around easily if Mlle Bustier was being loose-lipped. Although he doubted that Lila would come after Marinette since she’s not trying to out her anymore, Adrien wouldn’t put it past the girl entirely, especially since she was still spreading rumors about Marinette on a regular basis..

Granted, this only mattered if Mlle Bustier actually told him where Marinette went to school, which she didn’t. So they should be perfectly safe for the time being.

“I’m sure everything will be fine.” He insisted. “I was the only one that asked, anyway, and I made sure we were alone.”

Marinette nodded, but she didn’t look any less unsettled. “You’re sure you were the only one that asked?”

“Positive.”

“.. Okay.” She muttered, fiddling with the tip of her black jacket. Oh, she was getting anxious now! He needed to fix this. Change the subject!

“Anyway, you said your new school was great?” He asked as he stepped forward in line. “That’s good to hear. Have you made any friends there yet?”

Of course, he already knew that she’d made new friends- several, in fact -but hopefully talking about them would help her relax. Plus, it would give him more information on her new environment. So it’s a double bonus.

Marinette took the bait, her hands quickly falling back to her side as she said, “I have. I was fortunate enough to run into a whole group of friends on my first day, and they took me in without hesitation, which was sweet. They even gave me a tour of the school and everything.”

Adrien plastered a tight smile onto his face in an effort to show support. She already had an entire group of new friends? That was gonna be hard to pull her away from.

“Wow, they sound really nice. You’ll have to introduce me to them sometime.”

“Maybe I can,” Marinette agreed, “but it probably won’t be for a while. We all have schedules and things that we’d need to work out, and I’ve been working on this fashion project lately that I was hoping to get done by the end of next week.”

“No worries. I definitely understand having a busy schedule.” Adrien joked, stepping forward in the line again. “Dupont’s been a little crazy since you left too. We had to pick a new vice president and everything.”

“Yeah, I heard. Lila had to come by and grab the books.” Marinette said bitterly.

Adrien winced. “Really? What did she say?”

“Gosh, I don’t even remember anymore.” Marinette rolled her eyes. “I try not to worry over stupid people. I’m sure she just rubbed her ‘victory’ towards me leaving in my face.”

Adrien chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I bet.. Lila aside, though, we all miss you. Dupont isn’t the same without you here.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him as they took another step forward in line. “You all miss me?”

Adrien frowned, partly because she doubted him, but mostly because he knew her skepticism was justified. They didn’t all miss her. Some- if not everyone besides himself -seemed to be happy that she was gone. It was a true tragedy.

“Well.. I miss you.” He said, his heart dropping further when she gave a satisfied nod. She’s already accepted the tragedy as fact, something unchanging, but he was going to work to make things different.

“Can I take your order?” The cashier cut in, grabbing the pair’s attention.

Adrien and Marinette gave the cashier their order and walked back to their table to wait for their names being called.

“So..” Adrien trailed off as they took their seats. “Do.. you miss us?”

He knew it was a risky question, especially since she’d firmly told Chat Noir a month prior that she did not, in fact, miss Dupont, but maybe her opinion had changed since then?

Marinette shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable. “I.. I’m not sure how to answer that, Adrien. How can I say that I miss the people who treated me like a monster for no other reason than the fact that I decided to stand up against a liar? I get that Lila twisted their views, and that everyone has their own version of a story, but it still hurt for them not to believe me even though most of us have known each other since childhood.”

“Do I miss the fun times and the people they used to be before Lila came along? Sure I do, but they’re not the people they used to be. They’re not the friends I grew up with anymore, and I’m not going to regret leaving a situation that wasn’t good for me.”

Adrien sighed. “Alright.. That’s a fair answer.. But what if they did come back? I mean- like - What if they realized that Lila was lying and came back and apologized and everything went back to normal. Would you come back?”

Marinette frowned. “.. I don’t know. What you’re suggesting is extremely far-fetched, and even if everything did go back to ‘normal’, it still wouldn’t quite be the same. They abandoned me for a foreigner. You can’t really come back from that. Plus, I think Rosemary is a great opportunity for me. It’s a prestigious school with extensive classes on the fashion industry and many other things, and although there can be some snooty, rich students, most of the people I’ve met there are really nice.”

Adrien hummed. Her answer was, once again, disheartening, but he took comfort in the fact that she said ‘I don’t know’ instead of just a straight up ‘no’. That was at least something, right? He could work with an ‘I don’t know’.

“Was this all you wanted to talk with me about?” Marinette asked. “Whether or not I would come back to Dupont?”

Adrien winced. “Well, no-”

Yes.

“-I also just wanted to catch up in general. We haven’t really seen each other in over a month, ya know?”

Although she appeared to be hesitant towards his answer, she gave a small smile anyway. “Yeah, it’s definitely been a while.”

Adrien chuckled. “You know, I actually tried to go visit you at Rosemary one time before this, but when I asked a student where you were, he said that you didn’t even attend the school. Had you two just not met yet?”

“Uh.. Can you describe him? There’s a lot of people at the school.”

“Sure. He was about my height, maybe a bit taller, with pale blonde hair and light eyes- I think. He was kind of just pale in general.”

Marinette snorted. “Do you know the amount of people at the school that could match that description?”

“Okay, okay, uhm.. I think he was wearing dark colors that day. Like, greys or blacks maybe.”

“Wears dark colors, but has light hair and eyes, and is tall. Got it.” Marinette smiled. “Sorry, Adrien, but I’m just not sure. That could be Devin or Caleb or Eliot or any other number of boys. It could have even been someone who’s not in my classes.”

“Right, that’s fine. I was just curious.” He said casually, though it was really eating him alive. He knew that they knew each other. They had to! No one gets that upset during an akuma attack and calls the person their friend without knowing them. The guy even mentioned that their mutual friends were waiting for them! So who could it be?

“Order for Adrien and Marinette Dupain-Cheng!”

Adrien stood. “I’ll get it.”

Honestly, he didn’t need to know the guy’s name. It was a bitter inconvenience, to be sure, but in the end, finding out the blond-haired dude’s name isn’t the objective. The objective was to get rid of Lila, then get Marinette to come back to Dupont. She might be hesitant about it now, which was understandable, but once she sees the changes that he’s gonna make at Dupont, she’ll be more than happy to come back. He simply needed to open her up to the idea again.

Lucky for him, he had a whole lunch date to do just that.

~~~~~~

Lila slowed to a stop on the sidewalk, panting and out of breath. She searched the city streets from left to right, but was only met with the scenery of a regular, Paris afternoon. Where were the screaming fans? The paparazzi? The bodyguards holding everyone back? Did they all disperse already? That post was literally made five minutes ago! How did he run away so fast?

She pulled out her phone to unlock it, watching as her social media popped up again. It was a picture of XY standing next to a downtown café, the very café Lila was standing next to right now.

“Chillin’ at the Café Aroma today!” The post read, but there was no XY in sight. There were hardly even any XY fans here looking for him. Was the post just a ruse to get rid of the paparazzi for a while? Don’t tell her she got up and ran all the way down here for nothing!

Lila let out a groan, slumping against the café. If XY or any of his lackeys bothered to answer their dang cell phones, none of this would’ve happened! Why would they even put out public numbers if they weren’t going to tend to them? It was really a jerk-ish thing to do.

Nevertheless, she still needed to find a way to contact him. XY was the only celebrity in Paris that might be willing to show up at Dupont per her request. Jagged Stone was a close second, but if she brought him to school, Lila was certain Adrien would ask about her stupid, kitten-saving story. Then, Jagged would get all confused and say that he never had a kitten, and Lila would have a lot more explaining to do. That was too much of a hassle for her to deal with. She needed someone she hadn’t lied much about, someone who could also quiet her whining, soul-sucking classmates. Ergo, she needed to find XY.

But where is he? Lila thought, scrolling through her phone for more recent posts. XY clearly wasn’t downtown, meaning he could be just about anywhere in Paris. He could even be outside of Paris. How was she supposed to find him when she had no special contacts to do so? It was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

And yet.. Marinette managed to find and reign in every celebrity she needed while she was class president. On. Her. Own.

Lila scowled and shoved her phone back into her pocket. Curse that goody-little-two-shoes for making her job harder. Curse her for somehow being perfect at everything and forcing Lila to enhance her lies to compete. Curse her for leaving to another school and making Lila suffer the consequences for it. Why couldn't Marinette have been a normal class president, hm? Why did she have to constantly outdo herself with the grandest of gestures and the most important of people? Why did Lila have to be so stupid as to try and fill an impossible roll? She should have convinced Alya to run for president instead. At least then she wouldn’t be blamed for the sudden budget cuts or the mismatched class trips. She would be able to continue lying in peace and not have to worry about delivering on all of her false promises. In fact, if she weren’t so busy trying to keep up with Marinette’s ‘legacy’, along with her own big mouth, she might have been able to take care of Adrien by now.

Lila heaved a heavy sigh and massaged her temples as she stood up from the café wall. XY wasn’t going to be found anytime soon, so she might as well take a break and grab a coffee before moving forward. Perhaps the caffeine will spark her creativity for a few lies that Adrien can’t dig into should her plan to find XY fail.

She walked over to the café door and pushed it open. The bell attached to the door jingled, reminding her of that incorrigible bakery, but she ignored it and continued inside. A little music toy wasn’t going to get in the way of her espresso.

Her eyes grazed over the room, hoping to find an empty table.

What she found instead, however, made her stomach drop.

There, sitting at a table near the middle of the room, was Adrien Agreste himself, and sitting across from him was none other than Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Lila yelped and ducked back outside, pressing herself firmly against the wall where they couldn’t see her. What were they doing there? What were they doing together?!

Carefully, she crept past the door and slid over to the large window at the front of the café, where she could watch the two from a safe distance. It probably looked suspicious to anyone passing, but she hardly cared at that point. If Adrien and Marinette were getting together like this, Lila was going to have much bigger things to worry about.

She peered through the glass, noting the near-empty plates on their table. They must be having lunch together. Did they do that often? Since when? What could they possibly be talking about?

A smirk tugged at the corner of Adrien’s lips, and Marinette snorted, putting a hand on her mouth to hide her laughter. Ugh, why did she look so cheery! She was supposed to be miserable!

Lila scoffed, digging her fingernails into the brick at the base of the window. What happened to the endless tears and the defeated, sagging posture? What happened to the shriveled up nothing that Lila watched leave the school? Was she really enjoying herself now that she wasn’t attending Dupont? More importantly, how long have Marinette and Adrien been meeting up like this? Was this the reason Adrien suddenly decided to fight back against her? Because he’d rekindled his friendship with Marinette? No wonder the man was out for blood! Marinette probably set him up to the task herself! She must have planned all of this from the very beginning!

No, Lila thought, digging her phone out of her pocket again. She refused to be made a fool of. If they thought they were going to pull one over on her this easily, they were gonna have another thing coming.

She snapped a photo of them together, making sure to get a moment where they were laughing hard, and tilted the angle of the camera to make it seem like she’d been passing by. Lila then got up and walked back into the café. A picture of Adrien having a grand time with Marinette should be enough of a set up for her to build him a bad reputation, but she needed to know what they were talking about specifically. The more she knew about this meet-up (and previous ones) the better, and if she were anything close to lucky, they would talk about their plans for her while she was there too. That would give her plenty of time to find a way to prepare.

Or, perhaps, strike first.

As casually as possible, Lila slipped into an empty seat near the pair, not too close, but not too far away that she couldn’t hear them. She then snatched the menu on her table and propped it up so her face couldn’t be seen while she listened.

“Okay, wait. So you’re telling me that they threw an entire Valentine’s Day party at the Mandarin Oriental by themselves?” She heard Adrien ask. He sounded immensely impressed. Who were they talking about?

“Yeah!” Marinette replied, the smile clear in her voice. “They’re parents paid for it, of course, but they arranged everything themselves, including the caterers and reservations. We actually made some of the decorations by hand too.”

“Wow, that sounds like a blast. I bet they all looked great.”

“They did! Especially when we finished the lights and stuff. Everyone loved it.”

Lila scrunched up her nose, equally confused and annoyed. Someone threw a party at the Mandarin Oriental for Valentine’s day? Who? Why was Marinette invited? And why did she get to personally help with the decorations? This wasn’t another one of her “chummy celebrity friends”, was it? It better not be.

Adrien chuckled. “If all of those rich kids at Rosemary enjoyed it, I’m sure it was something.”

Lila froze. Did he just say “all” of the rich kids? Meaning multiple? Why was Marinette hanging out with multiple rich kids? How was she hanging out with multiple rich kids? Were they inviting her to the parties they were throwing? Why? What did she have that was so freaking special?

Wait a minute.

Her raging thought finally caught up with the rest of Adrien’s comment, specifically the one about Rosemary. Wasn’t that the stuck-up school near the middle of Paris that was famously known for hosting either incredibly rich or incredibly gifted students? The one that barely let you breathe in their direction if you weren’t considered “worthy”? How did Marinette end up wandering around there long enough to catch some rich friends? No one’s allowed inside except for students or staff, and their policies are extremely strict. (she should know, considering she’s tried to weasel her way in there several times.) The only way she would be able to get inside was if-

Lila gasped, nearly dropping her menu in the process.

No.. No, no way Marinette got transferred from Dupont to Rosemary. That would just be absurd! She didn’t have any money! And she certainly didn’t have enough talent to be accepted despite that!

But as Lila listened to the conversation more and more, she had to endure the horrible realization that Marinette had, in fact, been transferred to Rosemary. Not only that, she was thriving there. She was making new friends who gave her rides in limos. She was going to fancy restaurants that cost more than Lila’s house for an afternoon snack. She was having slumber parties in mansions. Mansions! Entire estates that were apparently just as big- if not bigger! -than Adrien Agreste’s!

Lila had finally gotten rid of Marinette and won Dupont, only for Marinette to gain the new life that Lila had always dreamed of having! How was that fair? How was any of this fair!

Lila drew in a long, deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She couldn’t blow her top just yet. Marinette may be winning right now, but once Adrien is out of the way, Lila will make sure that Marinette suffers the way she deserves. Rosemary isn’t going to save her for long.

She pulled out her phone to unlock it and clicked on the messaging app, scrolling down until she found her favorite minion: Alya Cessaire.

~Hey, you’ll never guess what I just saw!!~

Lila smiled as she sent the text. With a message like that, Alya won’t be able to help her curiosity, and when Lila sends the picture of Adrien and Marinette together, the journalist will fall headfirst into a pool of rage.

In other words, that pampered little rich boy won’t know what hit him.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Hey, everyone! This section isn’t quite part of the story, but it’s going to be part of the updates from now on. Two weeks ago, I visited a Bible camp, and the Lord really spoke to my heart through the messages. So, from now on, I want to make Him the center of my life and glorify Him in everything I do. At first, I thought of not writing anymore fics or chapters, since doing so would really take my focus away from Him, but instead, I decide to start writing little devotions at the end of each chapter I post. That way, you all won’t have to suffer through an incomplete story, and I get to share the wonderful gospel with you all!

The first devotion I want to post is the message of salvation and how you can know that you’re going to Heaven when you die. The Bible (King James Version) says in Romans 3:23 “For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God.” and the first part of Romans 6:23 says “For the wages of sin is death”. We have all had a moment in our lives where we know we’re not supposed to do something, but we do it anyway. That breaking of rules is called a sin, and because of that sin, God says that we are not fit to be in His presence, for He is a just and holy God. So, due to this, our souls are condemned to the fiery prison known as Hell, where it is pitch black around you, and the only thing you can hear is wailing and weeping and gnashing of teeth. Your soul will be alight with fire, but your body will never actually burn, so you will be faced with that pain for the rest of eternity. Can you imagine that? Being in that kind of torment forever and ever and ever and knowing that it will never end? I can’t wrap my brain around that kind of pain, and I certainly don’t want any of you to have to endure it. So that’s why I’m telling you now that there is a bright side to all of this!

John 3:16 says “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.” and the other part of Romans 6:23 says “but the gift of God is eternal life”. Do you realize what this means? It means we don’t have to go to Hell! God has provided a way of escape for us!

2,021 years ago, God sent his Son, Jesus Christ, down to earth to die for us. He was a perfect man, with no sin about Him, but he became sin for us and sacrificed himself so that we could be saved. People beat him and mauled him to point beyond recognition, then they nailed him to a cross for him to die. The pain he had to endure was excruciating, but he did it for us, because he loves us.

Then, three days after the Son of God passed away, he arose from the grave with new life! and because of that, we now have a way to join Him in heaven! All we have to do is admit that we are a sinner, repent of our sins, and accept Jesus Christ into our hearts as our Lord and Savior. We must believe on Him, and believe that he died on the cross for us, then we won’t have to go to Hell! It’s that easy! And those who believe on the Lord Jesus not only don’t have to go to Hell, but they also find a new home in Heaven with the very person who created us and loves us so much to the point of sacrificing Himself for our benefit. It’s a win-win scenario!

I know this isn’t a normal thing to do for fics, but this is something extremely important that I need all of you to know. So please, if you read through this, I implore you to get saved and accept Jesus as your savior. What do you have to lose? If you don’t, you’ll be doomed to an eternity of pain and suffering that you can never escape, but if you do, you will be guaranteed a place in paradise, where Jesus will be waiting for you with open arms. Please trust Him with your life and your heart. You know he will keep it safe.

Thank you all for listening to this and I hope you have a wonderful day!)

Tag List: @sasstrashforlike5fandoms @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce @i-need-blog-ideas @thewheezingbubbledragon @crazylittlemunchkin @unabashedbookworm @moonystars14 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @2confused-2doanything @magnificentcrapposts @moonnette @nickristus-dreamer @vixen-uchiha @casual-darkness @luxmorningstarr @jjmjjktth @kaithehero @itsme1598 @theymakeupfairies @xjaccyx @miraculous-ninja @miraculouspenta @swiftie-miraculer13 @justafanwarrior @all-mights-asscheeks @ira-sairain @lookatthestars1 @dahjokester @blissful-passing @solangelo252 @canivialemonsquints07 @derbygracie @pleaseignorejustheretoread

#felinette #Marinette #Miraculous Ladybug #New Girl on the Block #Rosemary AU #Felix Culpa #Quantic Kids #miraculous #ladybug

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heliads · 3 years

Text

Firestarter

Y/N L/N is a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent with the ability to control fire. She keeps her powers hidden to protect herself, although she doesn’t count on accidentally revealing them to Steve Rogers when she saves his life.

masterlist

You open your hand. Slowly, carefully. The flames spring up almost involuntarily, a gut instinct that you can’t seem to turn off. You stare for a while, and when you look away you can still see the inverses dancing across the walls. Hot tongues of fire that lick across your palm, soaring higher and higher with the slightest impulse.

You suppose you would appreciate your powers if it weren’t for your line of work. You became a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent before you realized their true attitudes towards people with abilities, and you’d discovered soon after that if you wanted to survive and stay out of the labs, you would need to keep your little fire habit a secret. No matter what all-inclusive, power-friendly aura S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted to give off, they would always distrust and disregard people with abilities.

Even the best of you, the Maximoff twins, were greeted with raised eyebrows and knives up sleeves instead of open arms. Maybe that was because they were given their powers by HYDRA, but you knew better. It wasn’t the specific organization that bothered S.H.I.E.L.D., it was the fact that they had no way of controlling that much power. The only way S.H.I.E.L.D. dealt with superhuman abilities was by either taking them in or taking them out. If they were to find out that you, a high ranking agent with plenty of clearance codes, had powers, they’d kill you. They can’t take risks like that, not with someone like you.

That’s why you never let anyone see the flames darting from your hands and lighting up your eyes. That’s why you wait until you’re alone, in a room with no security cameras, to call up the first few sparks. It hurts to go without using your powers for that long, but the alternative is so much worse. As a senior S.H.I.E.L.D. operative, you’ve had the gruesome pleasure of seeing the labs firsthand. S.H.I.E.L.D. claims that the labs are harmless, only taking in willing participants so that their scientists can learn more about the complex world of those with power and those without. You’ve heard the screams to know that all of this is a lie, that nobody goes to those labs willingly. So, you play the part of the powerless, pretending that you’re a perfectly ordinary person, even if nothing could be further from the truth.

There’s a knock at your door and you snap your hand shut like a compact. When you slowly open your fingers once more, the tendrils of flame are gone. You wave your hand to disperse the last few curling fingers of smoke from the room, then call out to your visitor. “Come in.” A few moments later, a tall, familiarly strapping man enters the room. You smile at him. “Steve Rogers, what a surprise. To what do I owe this visit?”

Steve holds out a hand to you and you take it, standing up from your chair. “Have you forgotten already? We’ve got that debriefing from Cox in a couple of minutes.” You groan. “That’s why you came over? I thought it was something good.” Steve chuckles. “No. I refuse to go alone.” He’s already opening the door, tugging you out into the hallway despite your protests. “I was going anyway, there’s no need to drag me over.” The two of you walk side by side down the corridor, slowly making your way towards the debriefing room. Steve glances over at you, a joking smile on his face. “I know you were, I was just checking in to make sure you weren’t ditching me.”

You pull a face. “You’re a terrible friend.” Steve says nothing, just holds open the door to the debriefing room with a grin. He follows you inside, although the two of you walk to different sides of the room once the door closes behind you. Steve is an Avenger, he’ll sit with Sam, Natasha, and the rest. Despite your years of experience fighting alongside the Avengers, you’re still a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, and so you slide into a chair next to your coworkers.

A couple of minutes later, a man walks into the room and takes a stance at the front of the room. His hair is slightly too greasy, eyes slightly too cold. You and Steve share a mutual hatred of this man, Edward Cox, and you’re not looking forward to hearing him boss you around for the next hour or so. You suppose that he is technically a good S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, and it’s impossible to rise to his level without shedding all of your morals, but that doesn’t make listening to him speak any easier.

This is especially true today. The mission itself should be fascinating- some twisted soul named Isaiah Crane has taken control of some massive warehouse complex, and he’s filling it with an army of soldiers and weapons. It’s your typical Avengers threat, made more interesting by the fact that Crane is an utter madman. His every move is calculated yet wild, and it’s practically impossible to guess what he’ll do next. His forces have already begun expanding out, displacing and injuring hundreds of civilians, and so the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. have been called in.

Cox, however, makes it sound like the dullest training excursion on the planet. “Remember, you’ll get in and get out. Try not to fight amongst yourselves, we’ll have to order you out. We don’t want another Sokovia Accords, do we, folks? Anyways, just take out Crane and his men. Don’t bother with the civilians, they’ll only get in the way.” Across the room, you see Steve straighten up. “What do you mean, don’t bother with the civilians? According to these reports, they’re being rounded up and killed or forced out of their homes. We should be helping them, it’s our job.”

Cox frowns over at Steve, evidently displeased over the interruption. “No, Rogers, you’re here to take down Crane. There’s a difference. Save the petty rescues for the fire department.” You wince slightly at that. It’s like Cox is actively trying to set Steve off. “You’re talking about hundreds of people who are in danger, who we could save in a fraction of the time it would take the local reinforcements. Why shouldn’t we be helping them?” Cox fiddles with the papers in front of him. “Because those are your orders, Rogers. You don’t need the people, just the man. Crane.”

You can see that Steve is seconds away from exploding on the guy, so you raise a hand. Cox turns to you, evidently assuming that you’ll be defending him. You’ve seen how Cox works, he tends to appreciate some sticking to the rules. You can use this against him; if you don’t, he’ll never let you speak in the first place. “Actually, I think Steve is right. I wouldn’t be surprised if Crane tries to use the chaos of the fleeing civilians to protect himself. By getting all of them out of harm’s way, we clear the path to him.”

Cox’s smile fades. “I would have expected a senior officer to understand the basic truths. We can’t save everybody, that’s a dream for the children.” You ignore the jibe. “You cited the Sokovia Accords as an example of things we should be avoiding. The only reason we were able to survive to make those accords in the first place was because of the success of Sokovia itself. The Sokovia incident would have been considered a disaster were it not for the fact that the Avengers were able to save all of the civilians. Yes, they had to battle Ultron, but their main victory was the countless lives saved.”

Cox opens his mouth as if to contradict you, but now Steve sees what you’re saying. “Exactly. Crane is our Ultron right now, but we have to save the people. End of story.” Cox glares at you both, but the rest of the room is nodding in agreement, so he’s forced to drop the matter. For the rest of the debriefing, though, his words come out as spiked weapons that he shoots at you and Steve, vindictive in his rage at being publicly humiliated.

Steve, on the other hand, does not consider this a victory. You can tell that he’s still furious at Cox for so casually throwing away the lives of the civilians, and he strides briskly away from the room the second the debriefing is over. You collect your things and follow him into an empty room. Steve looks up when you close the door behind him, evidently unsurprised to see you. Anger seems to course from his every vein. You forget how he gets sometimes, when he’s let down time and time again by the fools of S.H.I.E.L.D. who think they can toss aside hundreds of lives for a cleaner mission.

Steve’s voice is laced with vitriol. “I can’t believe him. I honestly can’t believe him. How could he go up there and tell us all to let those innocents die? I don’t think he even saw a problem with it.” He begins to pace back and forth, energy seemingly bounding from his every motion. “This entire organization is paved with blood, and they’re the ones holding all the strings. How do you live with yourself, knowing this is happening every day?” The second the words leave his mouth, Steve looks up, regret already beginning to color his eyes. “I didn’t mean that.”

You hold up a hand to stem his apologies. “Yes, you did, and it’s fine. S.H.I.E.L.D. has never had time for the lives it plays with, and you’re right to say it. To be honest, I’m not sure that there is a way to live with the knowledge. You just have to push it aside, because there’s no better way to do what has to be done.” You glance over at him, smiling slightly. “The problem is that you’re Captain America, and everyone expects you to always make the perfect choice no matter what. Perfect choices where everyone ends up alive and well don’t exist, yet if you don’t make that decision, you’re hunted for it. We don’t get happy endings in this line of work, we just have to make do with what we have. Maybe we have to accept the worse choices right now, but we can take steps to make them better.”

Steve nods, and you can tell that he’s beginning to calm down. “That’s the worst part of it. There are so many expectations, and it’s impossible to live up to all of them.” You incline your head in acknowledgement. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a pretty good job of it.” You lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek before slipping from the room. Even as you walk away, you can still feel your lips burning. For a spy who’s not supposed to get hung up over her emotions, you’re doing a pretty bad job of it.

It’s difficult to describe the relationship you have with Steve Rogers. You’ve been enemies, you’ve been friends. You’ve had each other’s backs. There have been nights when alcohol burns like kerosene down your throat, when you spend the night between his sheets and wake up again the next morning to steal away before he wakes. The best way to describe what you have with Steve is that it’s whatever the two of you need at the moment. Maybe it’s a friend, maybe it’s more. By uttering a word about it, you’re afraid you’ll shatter those quiet moments and cut the fragile string tying you to him for good.

By the next morning, you’ve forced thoughts of him from your head once more. You’re heading down the landing of the quinjet, gun held at the ready. The steady rattle of gunfire echoes around you, and just like that, the fight to reach Isaiah Crane has begun. You and the rest of the Avengers rush to the civilians, getting them to safety before the inevitable call crackles through your earpiece, announcing that Crane is in the building. This is your one shot at him, you have to make it count.

The group of fighters enters the building, one person for each entrance. You make your way through the twisting halls of the complex, but you never catch sight of him. You come out of a narrow passageway to find yourself suddenly swallowed up by a main room. Across the space, you can see the rest of the Avengers emerging from doors. It looks like you’ve all been led here, trapped in this one space by the elusive Crane. Just as you realize this, the bombs go off and you’re thrown to the ground.

There must have been explosives lining the floor. Dust hangs thick and heavy in the air, and the bombs keep on going off, one after another. A chain reaction, which ends with the ceiling beginning to shake and tumble down. Your eyes are drawn to the thick concrete of the building’s structure, which is just now falling down on top of you. Your legs itch to run, to do something, but there’s nowhere to go. The only thing you can do is hope for the best, which is that this column falling on you won’t entirely shatter you.

Just as you’re preparing yourself for the impact, a figure darts over to you, pulling you to them protectively. You realize it’s Steve, and he flings his shield over your huddled bodies just before the roof caves in. There’s an overwhelming blow, but after a few tense minutes, you realize you’re still alive and relatively unharmed. Slowly, carefully, Steve stands up, and you do too. You stare in shock at the room around you. Columns of concrete have come tumbling down, and the room is in shambles. Rubble and large chunks of the roof have caved in around you, and it’s impossible to see anything farther than a few feet ahead of you.

You reach to your earpiece, turning it on. “This is Agent L/N. Can anyone read me? Over.” You wait a couple of seconds, then repeat your message. There is no response, just the crackling of static. Steve shakes his head. “I’m not getting anything either. I think we’re on our own.” You bite your cheek, thinking. “This was Crane’s plan. He wanted to get us alone.” Steve nods. “I don’t think we have much of a choice about it, though. There’s a way out under the rubble, and I think it goes deeper into the complex. It looks like it’s our only option.”

The two of you duck underneath the piles of debris, skirting around the edges of the room to find the chink in the armor that Steve was talking about. It seems to lead to a broader expanse of hallway, one that wasn’t connected to any doors leading outside. You look down the dimly lit hall, uneasy. “I have a bad feeling about this. This has got to be a trap.” Steve sighs. “I don’t think there’s any way it isn’t a trap. Crane must have set it up- whoever survives the explosives makes it over to him. I hate to say it, but it’s the only thing we can do. At least we can finish this.”

You nod, and the two of you begin walking down the hallway. You keep your eyes open and alert for any threats, any new explosives or ambushes, but there’s nothing there. At last, the hallway opens up into a seemingly empty room. You and Steve look at each other, and you see your same apprehension reflected on his face. Steve holds out an arm to stop you from walking any further. He speaks quietly, mouth an inch or two away from your ear. “Stay back here. I’ll go in alone, you’ll watch my back. If Crane thinks he’s going to be holding all the cards, I want at least one ace up my sleeve.”

You nod slowly. “Be careful.” Steve smirks. “Always am.” With that, he slings his shield off of his shoulder, holding it out in front of him like the knights of old. You watch as he disappears around the corner, footsteps echoing off of the high ceiling. There’s a noise from across the room, barely noticeable. Steve, of course, is used to doing the impossible and his head turns towards the sound. He strides further into the room, investigating the sudden sound. He is slowly swallowed up by the shadows of the room, and you squint as your eyes adjust to the darkness.

At first, you think you’re just making things up. Then, the slight movement comes again, strengthening as it passes close by the lights of the hall. You take a slow, silent step forward and your eyes widen as you see the figure drawing close to Steve. The silhouette has its back to you, and you creep out of the hall and into the room, curious. With a chill, you realize that this is Crane, and he’s about to attack Steve, who has no idea that the enemy he’s been tracking is right behind him. Steve is still walking through the room, completely unaware of the man about to kill him. Crane raises his arm, a gun in his hand. You can see a demented grin on Crane’s face as he aims at Steve’s skull. His finger pauses on the trigger.

You don’t think, not at all. Before you know it, your arm is raised, a swarm of fire billowing out of your hand and engulfing Crane whole. It knocks him over, a shriek of pain issuing from his mouth as the gun misfires. Steve whirls around and sees Crane at last, but it doesn’t matter. The man is out cold, burns blossoming in a sickening shine all over his body. He won’t wake up for a while, and when he does, he’ll be in so much pain that he’ll barely be able to stand, let alone try to kill Steve once more.

This means that Steve’s eyes are moving up, from Crane to you. You watch as the understanding dawns in his eyes, as he looks between the flames still dying out on the ground around Crane to your outstretched hand. Once again, your mind goes silent and you don’t think, just act. You’ve felt fear before, the terrifying, bone-chilling fear that you are about to die. You’ve known the terror of facing down impossible odds in a mission that was doomed from the start. All of those are manageable, but this right here? This suffocating knowledge that you’re about to experience the worst agony of your life, that Steve is going to tell S.H.I.E.L.D. about your powers and you’re going to be sent to those accursed labs, this is the most petrifying fear you have ever known.

You turn and run, heels flashing down the hall. You don’t know why you’re sprinting down the corridor, why this will make a difference. All you know is that you have to get away, you have to leave before the truth comes to light. Yet you forget that Steve is a super soldier, someone who can outpace anyone in a heartbeat. Within seconds, he’s catching up to you, and then his arm is reaching out and grabbing yours, stopping you in your tracks. He pulls you over to the side of the hall, your back up against the wall. He stares at you, and you stare at him.

Steve is the first to speak. “Why didn’t you tell me you had powers? Why did you run?” The words bubble out of you, a torrent of terror. “They’re going to kill me. S.H.I.E.L.D. They’re going to bring me to those labs and take me apart over and over again. Just kill me now, it’ll be faster.” Steve shakes his head. “I’m not going to do that. I’m not going to let them do that.” A laugh, bitter and jaded and cold, flies from your throat. “You don’t have a choice. None of us do.”

Steve’s face is set, eyes determined. “There are no functioning security cameras in this building, not after that explosion. We’re going to say that Crane got caught by his own bombs, and that’s why he was burned. We’re not going to say anything about you, because you were with me and no one else knows.” You stare at Steve mutely as he continues speaking. “There’s no way S.H.I.E.L.D. could know unless we tell them, and we’re not. You’ll be safe, and no one is going to hurt you.” You feel like the ground has been ripped away from underneath you. “Why would you do that? If they find out, they could take everything away from you. There’s no good reason to risk your job, your life, for what, someone you kiss a couple times a month? They’ll come after you.”

Steve’s arms are still wrapped around your waist, and you’re finding it difficult to think straight. “I left the Avengers and broke them apart because I wanted to protect my best friend. If S.H.I.E.L.D. tried to hurt you, someone I care about more than anyone? I would burn them all to the ground.” He flashes a sudden smile. “Although I’d appreciate it if you were there with me. You make a pretty good firestarter.” You laugh quietly in spite of yourself. “I’ll be there. Even without this whole mess. I don’t think I could leave you if I tried.”

Steve nods, his eyes filling with a sudden warmth. “I’ve been wanting to hear you say that for a long time.” He leans forward and kisses you. It’s strange- you’ve kissed Steve many times, and probably a few other than those that you’ve forgotten. Yet you don’t think he’s ever kissed you like this, with the smile and the trust that you two will stay together, no matter what. He is kissing you like he loves you, and you feel the exact same way.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers oneshot #captain america #captain america imagines #captain america x reader #captain america oneshot #avengers #avengers imagines #avengers x reader #avengers oneshot

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supercorpkid · 3 years

Text

There’s a first time for everything.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader

Word count: 2890.

“How exactly did this happen?” Jamie looks at the F in your test and you roll your eyes to the sight of it. This is bad. This is really bad.

“I didn’t have time to study. But it’s ok, I’ll study for the next one.” You say, agreeing with your head to make Jamie and Maya’s worried expression ease up a little.

“Babe, you should’ve told me you needed to study. We could have had a study session or something.” They’re still worried. You look at Jamie raising one eyebrow, so she knows there’s more to the story. It takes her a few seconds, but she seems to finally realize your life is more complicated than stupid French tests.

“Oh, it’s a one-time thing.” Jamie says dismissing it with her hand. “It’s good, now you know what the rest of us feel when we don’t go so well.”

“Yeah. It’s great.” You joke with a smile, and that seems to be what’s necessary to make Maya less worried.

“We’ll study together for the next one.” She says and you agree.

It’s just when her mom picks her up from school, that you can tell Jamie what was really going on with you.

“Ok, so what really happened?” Jamie asks and you breathe deep before starting.

“Ok, it all started the night before when Kara put her head inside my bedroom to ask me:

“Hey kid. What are you up to?”

I looked up from the books I was organizing on my table to start studying. And since I thought it was something fast, I answered. “Nothing.” While obviously ignoring the books in front of me.

Then she went on like “Well. There is a big commotion downtown, a bunch of aliens got together to destroy some things and the whole place is a mess.” And I just shook my head agreeing because I thought she just went to tell me why she was leaving. But, like, she kept going and she asked me: “Do you want to come with me? I figured we could use some help.”

I was beaming in excitement ‘cause you know it’s kind of hard for Kara to just admit she needs help, so I thought there was probably a hell of a mess there. Which means she really did need my help, right? So, I was like “Wait! Really?”

She smiled too. “Sure! Go put on your-” But I used my super speed to change and I was in front of her all suited up in a blink of an eye. “Suit.”

“Let’s do it!” I ran out of the bedroom feeling like I could fly away just by being invited to it. You know it’s all I ever wanted. Kara seeing me as a person who could back her up during trial times. I was almost out of the house when I heard Lena’s voice from the living room and I came back to kiss her goodnight. So, she was like:

“Where are you guys heading to?”

And Kara said, check this out:

“I need back-up for this fight.”

I mean, she literally said the words I was so eager to hear and my smile just grew wider.

“I’m back-up!” I said, beaming in excitement.

But, well, you know my mom. She immediately went like:

“It’s school night.” She looked at momma. “She needs a good night of sleep.” Like I wasn’t even there to speak for myself! But lucky for me Kara said:

“Don’t worry, love. She’ll help me stop the aliens and bring them to the DEO, and I’ll do the clean up part.” Kara assured mom, who let out a sigh, like she does whenever she knows she is defeated.

“Are you sure you want to go?” She asked, putting her hand on my shoulder. And honestly, I don’t know what she was expecting. Did she think I was going to say no? Anyways, I obviously answered:

“Oh my God, yes! Don’t worry mom, I can handle it.”

Then she was like: “Ok, then. Don’t take too long.” She kissed my cheek, and then Kara’s mouth. “Be careful. Both of you.”

Then I looked at momma, still smiling, and she smiled back super excited. I just couldn’t believe I was going out to have adventures with Supergirl! I always thought I would have to sneak out with Superboy to have them, but then like, momma invited me to it!

So anyways, I tagged along to fight some hellgrammites that were causing trouble downtown. And like, dude, Aunt Alex gave me an earpiece for communication and Rao it felt so good to be a part of the team!

And she would talk to me through it. Jamie, I swear it’s as fun as you can think. So, aunt Alex was like:

“Superkid, be careful with the spikes. They’re strong enough to penetrate metal, it could harm you.”

And Kara was like:

“They also possess superhuman strength.”

And I was like:

“Okay, guys. I know hellgrammites, just chill.”

But like, aunt Alex went on:

“If you can’t win, try using their own spike against them as a last resource, Superkid.” And I was like ‘ok’, And then I hit one so hard he was thrown to a post light, and it bent, and made the light flicker. It was so funny, but I obviously couldn’t say that, so instead I said:

“Sorry. I’ll fix that!” And I flew to him, looking at the spike on his hand. Then I made my voice sound stronger and said: “You can come willingly or I can make you.”

“Pff.” It was his answer. What a dumbass, right? So, I had to keep using my strong voice.

“Got it. I’ll make you.” And then I punched his face a few times until he was unable to recover, and put him in cuffs. And I was so happy I yelled: “Got one!”

I looked at Supergirl, who had already caught the other three. She gave me thumbs up and a smile. Well. At least I kinda helped, right?

“Bring him to containment at the DEO.” I heard Alex’s voice through the comm, and picked up his floppy body and made my way towards Supergirl.

I asked if she was ready and she agreed with her head. So, I picked one other guy up, throwing each one over my shoulders, and I flew into the DEO with Supergirl, putting all four of them in a cell.

Aunt Alex was looking proud of me, which is incredible. You know the feeling! And she went like. “Great work, kiddo!”

“Thanks! That was fun, it was like playing video-game!” I said making them laugh. But then Supergirl went:

“Ok, time to go home. I’ll go clean up the mess they made, and I’ll meet you back there in a bit.” And she was ready to fly away when I held her hand.

“I can help. Still early.” I said pointing at my watch, but I lied ‘cause it was already late. Supergirl narrowed her eyes at me, and I knew she was going to say no, so I said: “At least let me unbend the post light.”

So she went:

“Ok. Let’s go.” Supergirl flew and I flew behind her.

In the end, I ended up helping her clean up everything, and we had to sneak in home so Lena didn’t see what time we made it back home.

And then, when I laid in bed, I was feeling exhausted, but I was so tired that it was really hard for me to fall asleep, so I missed my first wake-up call with Kara knocking at my door, and when Lena woke me up a while later, I was so tired it was hard to focus. But I could never tell her that, ‘cause she would be pissed since she was right in the first place. So, I rolled out of bed and came to school.

The problem was that it takes a lot of effort to shut off my super hearing and pay attention to the test, and I wasn’t able to do that while feeling so tired, hence my F.”

“Well, at least you had a good time supering yesterday.” Jamie says after you finish your story and you agree with your head catching your breath.

“It was awesome! Even your mom looked impressed.” You lean over a pillar and look at her. “Except Lena will be so mad that I got a bad grade, because I was supering.”

“Oh, come on. You can’t do everything. Save National City and get a good grade the very next day.” She said and you think about it. No, you can’t do everything, but you’re supposed to. Besides, school is more important than saving National City since Supergirl could have done it all by herself, clearly.

But Lena doesn’t need to know, does she? It’s not lying if she doesn’t ask you about it, so there’s no reason you will run to tell her about it, right? Right. It’s fine. You’re fine.

But you’re not fine.

“Hey, babygirl!” Lena says when she walks in home later that day, your soul almost leaves your body. You jump so high in your chair; she furrows her brows at that. “What are you doing?”

“Having a heart attack!” You put your hand on your chest, and you feel your heart beating fast.

“You shouldn’t get scared so easily. You have super hearing.” She points out and you think about it for a second. She is right, you shouldn’t.

“I was distracted.” You defend yourself, and Lena comes closer to kiss your head. She looks at the books in front of you.

“Ooh, français. Très bien!” She jokes.

“Mhm, yeah.” You smile through the pain you’re feeling to just blurt it out right there. It’s very hard not to say anything. You hate keeping secrets from your moms. “How’s-How was work?”

“Oh, you know Fridays and meetings. They don’t usually go well together.” Lena says that grabbing a bottle of wine and a glass. “But at least we have family night today, right?”

“Right.” You smile and she excuses herself for a shower (glass of wine in hand), while you finish studying.

Kara gets home a while later with dinner in both hands, but she still manages to push your books out of the way so she can put them on the table. She ended up dropping all of your books on the floor, and you smile at her.

“Sorry, little one.” She bends out to help you with it, and you hear a loud gasp.

“What?” You ask surprised, and you look at what she’s pointing at. “Oh no. Oh no.”

“You got an F?” She yells in pure shock, and your eyes widen at the sound of that.

“Shhh! Will you keep it down, please?” You lower your glasses to make sure Lena is still in the bedroom and can’t hear you. Lucky for you that’s the case.

“An F!” Kara’s still shocked. She picks up your tests and reads it. “You were aware it was a French test, right?”

“Um, yes?”

“Because I’m pretty sure this is English, this is a math equation? And would you look at that! You wrote stuff in kryptonese! I’m not sure she could understand that.” She keeps looking at it, making you blush in embarrassment until you pull it out of her hands.

“I was… distracted.” You say, putting it inside of your book, and looking back at her. “Please, don’t tell mom.”

“Kid-”

“Please, mommy.” You try with your sweetest voice. “I’ll study harder for the next one and I’ll get an A, just please. Please. For me?”

“Don’t.” Kara looks at your pouting face and you can see she’s very inclined on hiding this with you. But she blinks twice looking away. “No, that won’t work. The pouting, and the ‘please for me’ bit. You know we don’t do lies in this house.”

“That’s not fair!” You cross your arms, upset. “Last week mom asked you if you ate all the chicken parm and you said no.”

“Are you serious?”

“You broke three glasses when you closed that cupboard a little too strong yesterday, and you told her nothing was broken.”

“Nothing important was broken.”

“Momma!” You pout again. “It’s not fair.” You hear Lena opening the bedroom door and making her way to where both of you are, and you raise an inquisitive eyebrow at Kara.

“Hey honey.” Lena says making her way behind the counter for another glass of wine. She looks at both of you having a stare down on the other side.

“One of us is going to tell her and she would rather if it was you.” Kara whispers close to your face, and you know Lena can’t hear her. You frown, and can’t believe Kara would do that. You can’t believe she won’t have your back about this.

“What’s-” Lena clears her throat, calling your attention back to her. “What’s going on?”

“Oh. Hi, love.” Kara makes her way to the other side of the counter and kisses Lena’s mouth. “Your daughter has got something important to tell you. I’ll go shower so we can have dinner and watch a movie.”

Kara leaves the kitchen and Lena raises her eyebrows at you, encouraging you to start. You don’t. You just look at her, and the book where your test lays inside. And you think about a lie. But you know you won’t lie, so it makes no sense for you to think of one in the first place. So, you get your test out of the book, and you come closer, holding on to it like it’s suddenly going to make it turn into an A instead.

“I, um, have something to tell you.” You sit on the other side of the counter, and she looks at the paper you’re clinging to so desperately. She does her eyebrow raise, and your heart feels like it’s going to stop with the thought of disappointing and upsetting her. Your mouth feels dry, your palms feel sweaty. It’s a whole ‘is this what a heart attack feels like?’ situation, before you can get your words out. “I didn’t do so well on a test.”

“Ok.” It’s what Lena says. She raises her hand at you, and you wince when you realize she will look at it. “Can I see it?” She pushes, once she realizes you’re still clinging to it, like holding onto a wrecked life-boat.

“Can’t you just take my word for it?” It’s your last desperate self-preserving act. Lena shows you her hand again, and you know that’s a clear ‘no’. “Ok.” You breathe out, handing her the paper. She takes it and looks at it, with furrowed eyebrows.

“Didn’t do well.” As in she’s saying that’s a very light way to put what she’s looking at.

“I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time, I promise!” You blurt out. “Please, don’t make me stop supering. Please. I swear it was a one-time thing. This won’t happen ever again.”

Lena puts the test down, goes around the counter and stops in front of you, while you still rumble your apologies. She doesn’t say a word which is very distressing. You wish she would just yell and ground you, just do something, instead of radio silent like right now.

“Ok.” She finally lets out. Ok? What does ok mean? “You’ll do better next time.” And then she hugs you. You take a few seconds to wire your brain and acknowledge what’s happening, before wrapping your arms around her, and letting out a breath you’ve been holding the entire time.

“So, you’re not mad?” You ask, still in shock. Lena gives you a chuckle and whispers softly in your ear.

“I’m not mad.” She tries to move away, but you hold her tightly.

“Still hugging, still hugging.” You say, earning another chuckle from her, and she doesn’t move away. “So, I can still go supering with momma?”

“You can still go supering.” She whispers again.

“And I’m not grounded?” You ask again, and you feel Lena moving to kiss your cheek. You smile, very happy.

“And you’re very much grounded.” She whispers, and finally lets go of you, with a bop on your nose. “But nice try.” Lena gets her wine glass and looks at you with a soft expression. “Can I just ask you a favor?”

“Anything.” You’re so happy she’s not mad, and that you can still go supering, whatever she says, you’ll do.

“That physics formula it’s exactly what I was needing for an experiment. May I steal it?” She smiles, making you smile back.

“Really? Wow, it’s almost like I wrote that for you.” And you have, in fact, because you were listening to her during your entire test. And you feel like she somehow knows that because the English part is the explanation she was giving about the experiment, then you wrote the formula she was trying to come up with, and the kryptonese part actually says ‘I love you, mom’. So, you figured she must have put two and two together and she possibly knows.

“Oh, and babygirl?” Lena adds, looking at you from her wine glass. “Khap ukiem rrip, inah*.”

Yeah. She knows.

Notes:

*Khap ukiem rrip, inah = I love you, daughter*

#kara x lena #supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp #supercorpfamily #kara x reader #supercorp daughter #supercorp fanfic #lena x reader #reader insert

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pianomanblaine · 3 years

Text

Down Once More

This story was written for the Potober prompts “Down Once More” and “And Now, How You Betray Me”, particularly with the words “taken hostage” and “betrayal” in mind. It resulted in an alternative version of the final lair. Fair warning: this one does not have a happy ending.

AO3 FFN

He dragged her along the dark and damp corridors beneath the opera house at a frantic pace, his grip on her arm harsh and unrelenting, not even sparing her a backward glance as she stumbled over her own feet trying to keep up with him. Her head was still reeling from the events leading up to this moment. It had all happened so fast, yet here and now, time seemed to lose all meaning. Every separate moment seemed to fade into the next one, forming one big hazy blur. It might have been several hours or merely a few minutes before they reached the shore of the underground lake and Erik was steering the little boat across the water towards his house.

Once inside, he pushed her into the bedroom which she had come to think of as hers, and roughly thrust the wedding dress he had so painstakingly crafted for her into her arms. He did not leave the room, did not even turn around to give her the smallest bit of privacy as he forced her to change into it. He immediately started yanking at the fastenings of the dress she was wearing, undressing her with great urgency, letting the garment pool around her feet, and for a moment she feared that he had gone completely mad and would try to violate her. But he only barked out an order for her to put on the wedding gown as he began to agitatedly pace the floor, only occasionally glancing in her direction while she got dressed again.

When she was finished, Erik retrieved a veil – she did not see where from, he might as well have pulled it out of thin air – and forcefully pushed it onto her head. Under any other circumstances, she might have been able to appreciate how delicate and beautiful it was, with its wreath of white and pale pink flowers that contrasted so nicely against her dark brown hair. It hardly weighed anything, but to Christine it felt incredibly heavy, carrying with it the full weight of Erik’s expectations.

Now that her wedding attire was complete, Erik finally stood still long enough to fully look at her. She wondered if he was happy with what he saw. He must have imagined her in that very dress so many times. Was he satisfied now that he had what he wanted, even knowing that it was against her will? Was it all really worth it?

Before she got the chance to ask him, he turned his back on her and walked away without saying a word. She followed him into the sitting room, where a fire was burning brightly in the hearth, its warm glow a striking contrast to the icy atmosphere in the room.

“So what now?” Christine asked, breaking the tense silence between them. “Are you planning to keep me hostage here, hoping I will suddenly change my mind and agree to marry you after all? Or will you just drag me in front of a priest and threaten me until I say ‘I do’?”

“This is not exactly how I had imagined it to go either, Christine,” he snapped as he stood by the fire with his back turned towards her. “I had a plan, and it would have worked if your precious little Vicomte didn’t have to ruin it all.”

“Raoul was only trying to protect me.”

“And look where his protection got you,” Erik sneered, turning to face her with a grotesque grin on his bare face as he gestured around the room, “in the Phantom’s lair, captured by the madman!”

“I never believed you to be mad, Erik,” she replied, “but I have come to understand how dangerous you can be.”

Christine’s heart twisted painfully as she recalled the early days of their acquaintance, when she still believed he was the Angel of Music. How kind he had always been to her, how gently he had treated her. But that had changed drastically when she learned of his deception and discovered his true identity. He had continued to act as her tutor, coaxing her voice to unknown heights, and although he was never harsh or violent towards her, he had grown defensive and suspicious, always on his guard around her, as if he could not believe that she could still feel any genuine kindness towards him now that she had seen his face.

“Well yes, I suppose I am like a wild animal in that regard. When feeling threatened, I can be extremely dangerous indeed,” Erik agreed. He took a few steps towards her, closing the distance between them, his tall frame towering over her. He seemed to be challenging her, daring her to look at the face of the monster.

“Should I be afraid then?” she asked, rising to the challenge and looking straight into his strange yellow eyes.

At first he merely seemed surprised, maybe even impressed, by her bravery as she stood her ground and faced him without flinching, but by the way his face fell only a moment later, she could tell when the meaning of her words hit him. He turned away as he spoke.

“Of course not. I never meant for you to be scared of me. I never intended you any harm.” He took a few steps back, as if to prove his point, as if he hoped to seem less threatening if he stood a little further away from her.

“Kidnapping me is a strange way of showing it,” Christine huffed.

His posture stiffened at the accusation. “You didn’t exactly leave me much choice, did you?” he said through clenched teeth. “You betrayed me!”

“I betrayed you?” she gasped in disbelief, her hands balling into fists by her sides. “Do you want to talk about betrayal, Erik? Do you want to discuss how you lied to me for years, pretending to be an angel sent by my dead father to watch over me? How you blackmailed the managers into doing your bidding, how you terrorized Carlotta and God knows how many others?”

“Don’t you understand? I did it all for you! Because I love you!” he roared.

“Don’t you dare blame this all on me! You killed two innocent people, Erik! How does that have anything to do with love?”

“Buquet was not innocent,” he snorted. “He was a vile lecher, a pervert preying on young defenceless ballerinas in the dark behind the stage. He got what was coming to him.”

The man was certainly no saint, Erik was right about that and Christine knew it, but how could he not see that that did not justify his murder? Even so, she might have been able to forgive him for it eventually, if it had not been for Piangi.

“Piangi never hurt anyone.”

“Piangi was in the way!” he exclaimed. “I did not mean to kill him, merely to incapacitate him long enough to take his place on the stage, but I ran out of time and I became careless. He was the only thing standing between us and I was not about to let him ruin my plan, no matter the cost.”

“You are delusional if you truly believe he was the only obstacle standing in your way. What did you expect to happen tonight, Erik? You would take Piangi’s place, sing with me in an opera of your own creation in front of a full theatre, and then what? I’d fall into your arms and we’d live happily ever after?” She tore the veil out of her hair in frustration, throwing it at his feet. If he thought that after all the times he had tried to force her hand, had tried to manipulate her into choosing him, she would now willingly become his bride, he was sorely mistaken.

“I cannot deny the truth of that, although it now becomes painfully clear how foolish I was to entertain such hopes.” Although his words seemed to imply that he blamed himself for having such unrealistic expectations, the glare he directed at Christine made it clear that he also faulted her for his disappointment. “I was ready to lay my heart at your feet tonight, Christine, and how did you repay me? By tearing off my mask and revealing my monstrous shame for all of Paris to see! I trusted you!”

His angry shouting turned into a sob of betrayal and despair, and for the briefest of moments, Christine’s anger was overshadowed by compassion for the man in front of her. She was well aware of how badly she must have hurt him by doing what she did, but she had no other options. If she hadn’t done something drastic that would enrage him enough to take action, the gendarmes waiting behind the stage would have closed in on him and captured him, or worse.

Raoul must have thought she was in her dressing room or somewhere else out of earshot as he gave his instructions to shoot Erik when the time came, but she had been too nervous to sit still for long, choosing instead to wander the hallways and eventually finding her way behind the stage, pacing back and forth in the dark as she waited for the inevitable tragedy of the night to unfold. She had heard every word. If she hadn’t acted when she did, Erik might have been dead by now.

“I understand that my actions hurt you too, Erik, truly, I do, but you gave me no choice. Can’t you see it was wrong to pin all your hopes and dreams on me? You’ve told me you love me, and I believe that in your own way you really do, but I cannot be held responsible for your feelings, Erik. I do not owe you anything simply because you love me.”

At the crestfallen, heartbroken look on his face, she almost went to him, almost closed the distance between them and embraced him in a futile attempt to offer him some comfort, a silent apology for having shattered his dreams in a few sentences. Almost. Whatever she had to offer him, it would not be enough now. He would always want what she could not give him.

“I know that I cannot make you love me,” Erik began after a long, heavy silence. “God knows I have tried long enough.” His voice sounded softer now, his bitter and accusatory tone completely gone. “But do you not care for me even a little bit? That could be enough for me. We could start over somewhere new, where no one knows who we are. I could still tutor you and you could still sing.” He was pleading now, with his eyes as well as his words, hoping against all odds that he could still convince her to share her future with him.

“I would expect nothing from you, Christine. I’d do anything to make you happy, I’d give you anything you want. You would only have to ask and it would be yours, and you would not have to do anything in return other than stay by my side. Dammit Christine, I am beyond pride. I’ll fall to my knees and beg if I must. Stay with me. Please.”

And for a moment, Christine was truly tempted to throw caution to the wind and go with him. She did care for him, how could she not? Despite everything, he was still her Angel of Music. She could not deny he had been an integral part of her life since the first moment she met him. Erik had been her sole companion during those terrifying first few years after her father’s passing. Through music he had brought her soul back to life. The connection between them was irrefutable, and she could hardly imagine a world where she would never see him again.

Yet she knew that what he asked of her was impossible. Even if he claimed that he had no expectations from her, she knew that he would never be truly happy until she returned his affections, that he would always continue to hope, and she could not bear to disappoint him. Besides, she already had a fiancé. Raoul. Her childhood sweetheart. Sweet, protective, kind-hearted Raoul, who was probably trying desperately to find a way to save her, even if he had to risk his own life to do so, at this very moment.

Where Erik’s love for her was obsessive and at times almost frightening, being with Raoul would be as easy as breathing. He might not be able to give her a life of music, but she would be safe and cared for. She would not want for anything, and unlike Erik, Raoul was not a wanted man. Choosing a life on the run with Erik over a comfortable and uncomplicated one with Raoul might be romantic, but it would also be foolish.

“I do care for you Erik,” she finally replied, “but I cannot stay.”

He did not try to convince her after that. He merely nodded in resignation, as if he had always known this would be the final outcome.

“Go then,” he said. “You can choose a change of clothes from the wardrobe in your – in the spare room. You would draw too much unwanted attention if you returned dressed the way you are now.”

Christine wondered if that was his true reasoning, or if he simply wanted to keep the wedding dress as a memento to torment himself with.

She obeyed his instructions for the last time, selecting a simple yet elegant dark blue day dress out of the assortment of clothes Erik had kept on hand for her since the first time she had spent the night in his home.

When she re-entered the sitting room to say her final goodbyes, Erik was kneeling on the floor, desperately clutching the veil she had so carelessly discarded earlier, a look of terrible sorrow etched across his distorted face. He brought the fabric to his misshapen nose, trying to inhale the little bit of her perfume that might cling to it.

His eyes flew open and he looked up at her in surprise when he heard her footsteps. He clearly had not expected her to come back.

Erik stood up slowly, wiping invisible dust from his trousers, straightening his jacket, as if after all that had transpired, it was still of the utmost importance that he look presentable to her. Maybe his habit of dressing so nicely was an attempt to compensate for the imperfection of his face, she suddenly realized.

A tentative smile formed on his lips as he watched her, silently waiting for whatever last scrap of kindness she would offer him before stepping out of his life for good. Christine could almost feel her heart breaking as she removed the ring he had thrust on her finger earlier that night, holding it out towards him. The ring was supposed to be a promise, a physical sign that their lives would forever be entwined. It did not feel right to keep it.

Erik’s smile disappeared as he reached for the ring, holding her hand in his for a moment while he looked into her eyes, silently begging her to change her mind. She gave a minute shake of her head before letting go of the ring and withdrawing her hand, a single tear trailing down her cheek.

Christine did not say goodbye, her voice unable to get the word out. She turned around and walked away, forcing herself to set one foot in front of the other until she had reached the door. If she did not leave now, she never would, and she knew she had to.

At the door, she stopped and looked back at him over her shoulder. One last glance at the man who had taught her voice to soar. He was still watching her, and when he noticed her looking at him he nodded once, as if to say: “It’s alright. Go. I understand.”

Trying to keep her tears at bay, she stepped over the threshold and made her way to the jetty, where the boat lay waiting for her. She knew she was making the right decision by leaving. But then why did it feel as if she was leaving a part of her heart behind?

As Christine steered the boat to the other side and removed herself from his life forever, Erik’s almost inhuman scream of loss and despair echoed across the underground lake. It was a sound that would haunt her for the rest of her days.

#potober #potober 2021 #phantom of the opera #poto fanfiction #poto fanfic #phanfiction #phanfic #eline writes #my writing

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cathrrrine · 3 years

Text

The Devil's In The Details

Originally from my AO3

SPN X MCU - Steve Rogers x Winchester!Reader

Chapter 2 - Juice Box

“We’re here for Y/N Winchester.” Sam called out to the strange voice that filled the room. The very same voice had greeted them the moment they stepped into the lobby.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Appointment? Who the hell does she think she is? Some kind of celebrity?” Dean complained, a scowl starting to grow on his face.

“Come on Dean, chill.” Sam tried to keep his brother calm. “She’s an Avenger now. Say what you want, but she is important.”

The Winchesters couldn’t help but be awed by the magnificent structure and interior of the building when they first walked in. The Stark Tower would be the last place they’d ever go to on any other day. But this wasn’t any other day.

“No, we do not have an appointment. But could we set one up right now?” Sam once again talked to the air. He kind of made out that he was talking to an A.I, the too-formal voice bordering on robotic giving it away.

“I’m sorry, but there is no Y/N Winchester here.”

“What? Sammy, you said she lived in this stupid tower?”

“I thought she did. Maybe she moved?”

“Are you looking for Y/N L/N?” The voice replied.

“L/N?” Dean made a face at his brother. “Who the hell is that?”

“I think she changed her last name.” Sam gulped, trying to hide the hurt on his face. Dean went silent. They were both thinking the same thing. If she erased Winchester from her name, there’d be no way in hell she’d be happy to see them at all.

“Yeah, we’re looking for her.” Sam gulped nervously.

“Please place your hands on the glass.” The voice instructed.

“What glass?” Dean questioned, and immediately a couple of square glass boxes glowed in front of them. When they looked closer, they saw the shape of a hand etched onto it’s surface.

“It’s a scanner.”

They did as they were told, placing their right hands on the glass. It glowed yellow a few seconds after.

“Miss L/N is on the sixth floor.”

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Sam and Dean shifted uncomfortably. They were both nervous to see their sister again, after all these years.

“Dean-“

“It’s too late to turn back now. We have to tell her what we need to.” The older of the Winchesters sighed, knowing full well what thoughts were swimming in Sam’s mind. He knew because he shared those thoughts too.

When the doors opened, they were hit with the reality of the moment. As soon as they saw their sister, their minds went blank. She was dressed in a leather jumpsuit, and next to her was a familiar blond man carrying a little boy who had fallen asleep.

After what seemed like forever, she finally broke the silence. “Sam. Dean.” Y/N acknowledged them, breathless.

They stepped out of the elevator, worry evident on their faces. You haven’t seen your brothers in years, so long that they’ve become nothing but a distant memory to you.

“Y/N, we need to talk to you.” Sam, your younger brother, stepped forward. You were frozen in shock. The last time you saw them, you had been disowned. That was almost seven years ago.

“What do you want?” You said, with no hint of joy in your voice. Steve could tell how confused and angry you were, noticing the tremor in your voice that only he could point out. He saw the way your nostrils were flaring despite your efforts to hide it. He would’ve walked away had he been anybody else, but he knew you needed him by your side right now. More than ever.

“We need to tell you something.” Sam insisted. “It’s important, I promise.”

You supposed he was telling the truth. There’d be no other reason for them to come here and meet you face to face. They hadn’t contacted you in a long time. You couldn’t think of a reason why they’d be here in the first place.

“Then tell me.”

“I think you might wanna sit down for this.”

Sam was doing all the talking. All the while, Dean just stood there, looking at anywhere else besides you. All these years and he still hasn’t forgiven me? You thought.

“Babe.” Steve’s voice alerted you. You had almost forgotten he was there, and you were grateful he didn’t leave. “Come on, let’s go to the living room.”

He grabbed your hand, tilting his head in the direction of the couches. You took a moment, eyeing the living room as a thousand thoughts bounced around your head. I could say no. I could walk away and leave them just like they did with me.

“Y/N.” Steve grabbed your chin gently, turning your head to face them. “You should go.”

You nodded slowly. He was right, and you hated that he was. But no man knew you better than he did, and he knew you’d regret it if you pushed your brothers away now. “You should go too, he should be tucked in bed.”

“You sure?” He raised an eyebrow skeptically. In all honesty, you wanted him to be with you. But this was something you needed to handle on your own, whether you liked it or not. Plus, you couldn’t risk your baby boy waking up in the middle of a heated conversation.

“Yeah.” You planted a kiss on James cheek before pecking Steve on the lips. “Go.”

He squeezed your hand before letting go and walking to the elevator. You watched as the doors closed, knowing that once they did, you’d have to face the two men standing in front of you.

Your brothers didn’t miss the exchange between you and Steve, and they couldn’t help but wonder who they were to you. But there was no room for any other questions, their minds focused on one thing only; telling you the news.

“Let’s go.”

You lead them to the living room, making a beeline for your favourite couch. You sat on it cross-legged, grabbing the fluffy pillow next to you and putting it on top of your legs. You held your hands together, waiting for them to start the conversation.

“We came here to tell you something important.” Sam began, clearing his throat nervously.

“Yeah, I know. What is it?”

“It’s not exactly...good news so much as it is bad news.”

You nodded curtly, trying to look like you were listening, but you were distracted by Dean. He had made the decision to not sit down and instead he paced around the room, looking at all the objects rather than making eye contact with you. Your eyes followed him, and it wasn’t long before Sam noticed and did the same too.

“So, what? You still won’t look at me after all these years?” Venom dripped from your tone, laced with hurt and anger that you no longer wanted to hide from them.

Dean stopped ‘studying’ the piece of decoration that he held in his hands, trying to think of a response. “I’m not the one who changed my last name.”

You narrowed your eyes, “You told me I wasn’t a part of the family anymore. I thought, might as well.”

“Well, how nice of you, Miss L/N. ” He said the name menacingly.

You stood up, fuming with anger. “Seven years, Dean. Seven. That’s how long it’s been.”

“Look who kept count.”

“Oh, fuck off. If you’re gonna be an asshole why don’t you see yourself out?”

“Guys!” The tallest of them three yelled, joining them in standing up. “Can’t we just...talk?!” He was desperate for a civil conversation, especially since what he was about to tell his sister was important.

You chewed the inside of your cheek, breathing heavily as you tried to keep your cool. You were far more mature now than you were back then, and you knew arguing wasn’t the best way to handle this as much as you wanted to.

“Look, Y/N. A lot of shit has went down since you left- we left you.” Sam corrected himself. You noticed his change of words, and you felt a wave of emotions wash over you. “And I know, you don’t want anything to do with us anymore.”

You felt a pang in your chest. You recognised the pain, it was the same pain that almost destroyed you when your brothers left you. It wasn’t true, what Sam said. There was a part of you that missed them deeply. They were family after all.

“But what I’m about to tell you is...it’s...” he struggled to find the words. Dean took a deep breath before cutting him short.

“Mom’s alive, Y/N.”

You weren’t sure you heard him right, blinking hard a few times just to make sure you weren’t out of it. “Come again?”

“Mom is alive. Our mother, Mary Winchester, is alive.”

The room started to spin. You weren’t sure how to feel. “H-how?”

“It’s a real long story. The short and sweet version is, God’s sister brought her back.” Dean answered.

“God has a sister?” You didn’t really care if he did. But the woman who gave birth to you, the woman who you’ve longed to meet your whole life...was alive. Your mother’s death had basically been the reason why the Winchester’s were hunters. And so much has happened since then.

When your father died, you spent months feeling guilty at the fact that you never got to truly, truly know the man. You had believed you were unfortunate enough to be someone who never really knew their parents. But now...you couldn’t believe that you had a chance to do just that.

“That is definitely not the short and sweet version, Dean.” Sam scolded his brother. Then he looked your way, starting to get worried when you didn’t speak for a good minute. “Y/N?”

“Mom...Mom’s alive.” You whispered to yourself. “Where is she now?”

“In our bunker.”

“Bunker?”

Sam and Dean glanced at each other, wondering if they should lay out the whole seven years of their lives for it to make sense to Y/N. “Yeah, we have a bunker now.”

“In Kansas?” You took a wild guess.

“Right up in Lawrence.”

Your brain was buzzing with a thousand questions that you couldn’t bring yourself to ask just yet. The main question was...would they willingly let you back in their lives? Would they let you talk to your now-alive mom?

“Y/N,” Sam took a step towards you. “We could take you to her if you want to. That’s what we came here for. We knew you’d want to meet-“

“Mommy!”

Sam was cut off for the second time that day, but this time it wasn’t so harsh. And it didn’t come from an adult man.

“Hey, sorry, honey.” Steve came in carrying the (Y/HC) boy who was crying uncontrollably. “He had a nightmare. I tried to calm him down, but he wouldn’t stop crying. He wanted you.”

James often had nightmares recently, and you were the only one that could soothe him. All thoughts of the previous conversation disappeared as your focus shifted to your motherly duties. “Oh, no. Come here baby boy. Momma’s here.”

As you reached for your wailing son, your brothers’ eyes went wide. When the looked at each other, they had the same expression; confusion and guilt. The fact that they had a nephew that they didn’t know about this whole time made the regret of not ever contacting you in the span of seven years stronger. Guilt churned in their stomachs.

Steve had went to the kitchen to fetch his son a juice box, but when he came back he had a couple of beers in his hands, along with the juice. He handed the beers to the two shocked men wordlessly, and they accepted it graciously.

James was now sniffling as you rubbed his back soothingly, planting kisses to his head now and then. Steve jabbed the straw through the juice box before giving it to you.

“You want some juice, baby?” You gently put the juice box in his hands. With a pout he nodded, putting the straw to his lips and drinking quietly. “Shh, now. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

After a while, his breathing returned back to normal. It was only then you remembered your brothers were watching the whole thing. You looked up to them, seeing the confused expression on their faces as they sipped their beers.

“Where’d you get those?” You whispered to Steve, nodding slightly towards the beers in their hands.

“Fridge. I think it’s Tony’s.”

You gave him a small smile, “Are you trying to win their approval? You know you don’t need it, right?”

“I’m just trying to be a good...host.”

“Of what? This isn’t a party, Rogers.” You almost laughed.

“Who’s that?” The small, sleepy voice interrupted your conversation. James pointed his tiny finger toward Sam and Dean, who sat up straighter when they saw the little boy look at them.

You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. You weren’t sure who to introduce them as. You didn’t even know if they wanted to be anyone to your son. Steve’s eyes met yours, and he raised an eyebrow as if to say ‘Want me to handle it?’. You chewed your lip nervously, hoping your son would just forget the question.

But luck wasn’t on your side today. “Mommy, who’s that?” He grabbed your shirt.

“Um...” you sighed. In that moment, your eyes met Sam’s. His eyebrows were furrowed, an expression you recognised as his stressed-out look from growing up with him.

“We’re your...uncles.”

You released a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Part of you was thankful that he replied, but part of you was upset because it would be cruel to tell a three-year-old boy that and then leave forever.

“Uncle?” James tilted his head, putting his pointing finger down. Whenever he said ‘uncle’, it sounded like ‘un-caw-l’. It was the cutest thing ever. Usually it would bring a smile to your face, but now all it did was worry you.

“Daddy.” He turned to Steve.

“Yeah, bud?”

”Can I have some of uncle’s drink?”

Steve stifled a laugh, “No, baby. I think you should stick to your juice box.”

You looked at Sam, eyebrows raised. He shrugged, a small smile growing on his face.

Boy, were you in for a life-changing ride.

#jesus what was i on while writing this...#spn x mcu #supernatural reader insert #the devil's in the details spn x mcu #avengers reader insert #supernatural x marvel #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x winchester!reader #marvel reader insert #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #mary winchester #steve rogers #steve rogers fluff

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mrsgiovanna · 3 years

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A lesson in Recollection (Don Giorno x Wife! Reader)

An awesome request from a nonnie mouse, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks so much for requesting my sweet 💕💜😘💭🐞

TW: brief descriptions of injuries, anxiety and hospitals

Word count: 1.7k

The beeps and hisses of the medical equipment were the only sounds that could be heard in your hospital room. Next to your bed sat your husband, jaw squared off, mouth clenched shut trying to contain his rage. His usually immaculate appearance was disheveled as he clutched your delicate hand against his lips.

He blamed himself for the position you were in by default, a husband was supposed to love and protect, the convention is built into the vows themselves. In reality though, the attack had happened so fast and so suddenly that nobody would have been able to preempt it. None of that mattered now… even though the offenders were severely dealt with, your condition was still the same. It had been a week, and you were still asleep. Your superficial injuries were taken care of by Giorno, but still you wouldn’t wake up. Numerous scans and brain activity tests revealed some swelling in your brain which was slowly subsiding, he simply had to be patient and wait for you to open your eyes again… and fortunately for him, it happened… unfortunately, you stared at him blankly, unable to put a name to his handsome, crestfallen face.

“Tesoro, it’s me… Giorno… your husband,”

“Tesoro? What’s that? I’m… married? I… I don’t feel so good,” you whispered, unable to find your voice after being unconscious for so long.

“Okay, okay amore, I’m getting your doctor, please hang on for me,”

You looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings, at the towering blond man scrambling around with all the white coats, you tried to push yourself up to join the conversation happening just above your head, but your physical strength was virtually nonexistent.

You were given a few days to physically recuperate, being subjected to test upon test to make sure that there was no other underlying cause for your loss of memory. The man who called himself your husband came to see you every day, bringing your favorite flowers, drinks, foods and scents with him in an attempt to help your memory recover. Even though you couldn’t remember him, you felt a sense of peace when you were around him, as if his soul was trying to connect on a subconscious level with your own. He was the only one who was able to talk you down from your bouts of anxiety, or the nightmares that sometimes plagued you. You figured he must have loved you immensely with all the effort he put into trying to get you to remember him.

“Your wife has retrograde amnesia, Mr. Giovanna. Fortunately, the swelling has subsided and her intracranial pressure has managed to consistently remain within normal levels, which is why I’m clearing her to go home. If there is any change in her condition or level of consciousness though, bring her back immediately. The road is a long one, Mr. Giovanna, there are no guarantees that her memories will return, but I have confidence that with the right care, she will be able to recover steadily.” Your doctor spoke honestly, not wanting to create unrealistic expectations, what he didn’t know was that Giorno was the type of person who always achieved whatever he had put his mind to- and right now, he was only concerned with making sure you would come out of this as unscathed as possible. Knowing that you would need all of his attention in the near future, he enlisted the help of his underboss and consigliere to help him run the organization remotely without having anyone privy to what he was actually doing. Both Mista and Fugo willingly obliged, wanting nothing than for you to make a full recovery.

“Thank you doctor, I’ll keep a close eye on her,” Giorno was relieved you were well enough to return home, the villa was painfully quiet and empty without you and he was certain that being in your sanctuary would help you remember your life with him. Looking at you sitting with your legs swinging off the side of your hospital bed and a faraway look in your eyes, you appeared so fragile and innocent.

“Good morning beautiful, how are you feeling today?” you turned to face him with a soft smile.

“Good morning Giorno, I’m okay thanks, and you?” the tender way in which you addressed him, being concerned for his well-being warmed his heart, whether you remembered him or not, you were still you… he was still yours as much as you were his.

“I’m much better now that I’m taking you home, shall we leave my love?”

“I’m ready, let’s go,”

Your doting husband helped you off the bed and took your things, you didn’t want to be wheeled out on the wheelchair, so you both walked out to the luxury car waiting for you. You didn’t expect there to be a driver, or a guard escorting you both… what does he do as job to be able to afford all this you mused. Come to think of it, you didn’t really know what your job was either… you decided to leave those questions for later. The entire drive home, you looked out of the window, the route home was unfamiliar, the imposing villa you were driven up to didn’t even feel real.

“Welcome home my love. Come, let’s get you settled in,”

“We live here? What exactly do we do?” your voice was imbued with curiosity.

“Well, I run a large, multidivisional organization, you are in charge of handing our philanthropic ventures, I’ll explain more later on… are you okay to walk up the stairs? In fact, never mind,” he said as he lifted you off the ground and carried you up the stairs despite your reassurances that you were fine. You looked at the beautifully decorated home, pictures of you both tastefully dotted throughout the hall way. Looking at his gorgeous angled face, you wondered how you both met and fell in love.

“This is our room bella, would you like to take a nap?”

“Gio, I’m fine… sorry, it just slipped out, do you mind if I call you Gio? It just sounds… right,”

“Of course bella, I’d prefer that. Ah! You must be hungry, all those days just eating hospital food… what would you like eat? Our chef will make anything you want, everyone has missed you here, so they’re all pretty excited you’re back home,”

“Really? I’d like to meet everyone later… if they’re not busy,”

“Okay my love,” said Giorno as he went into his closet to fetch something more casual to wear, choosing a simple V-neck t-shirt and jeans, shaking out his hair from its usual style, and leaving it unbound about his shoulders. He walked out to find you sitting at your vanity, looking at the products and the baubles, lifting up your favorite hairbrush and examining its engravings. He walked towards you, and took his place behind you, lifting your hair off your shoulders and bringing it to the back, he took the ornate brush from your grasp and began to gently brush your hair. Your injuries were well healed by now, but Giorno was still extremely careful.

“How does this feel? I’m not hurting you am I?

“No, it feels really nice actually… Gio… would you tell me how we met? Like, what’s our story? I see all the pictures around and we look so happy,”

“We were happy, bella, we still are, we’ll get back what was lost and create even better memories on the way… we met 10 years ago, we were just stupid ambitious kids back then, both 15 years old with heads full of dreams. I won’t go into detail, but we had very… unique occupations and abilities. We’ve been through a lot together, and rebuilt this organization from the ground up. We’ve been together as a couple for seven years and married for the past two,”

“Sounds like quite a journey for a pair as young as us… and now there’s this… I’m sorry, I’m sure you didn’t imagine something like this would happen,” the apologetic quality of your voice saddened Giorno, the last thing he wanted was for you to feel like this was your fault.

“We have fought against worse my love, and just like that we’ll handle this together… come, no sad faces now,” said Giorno as he braided some flowers into your hair.

“Wow, you’re good at this… where did you get the flowers from, you didn’t move an inch?” you asked, admiring his handiwork.

With a smile he replied that he’ll show you a bit later on, which you accepted. The rest of day was spent by talking about some of the interesting things that had happened to you both in the past. Being wary of overwhelming you, Giorno didn’t go into great detail about the more tragic experiences. When it came time for you to sleep, he suggested he sleep in one of the guest rooms if you felt uncomfortable, but you asked him to stay with you, feeling guilty that you were the reason he felt like he had to behave like a guest in his own home.

As you got more comfortable, and built up your strength with your recovery, Giorno slowly started reintegrating you back into your old routine, as difficult as it was, you had made great strides in re-learning key bits of information. Your mental fortitude had constantly reminded your husband exactly why he had fallen in love with you, the least he could do with your trying so hard, was to match your effort, working tirelessly with you on the exercises that your therapist suggested, recreating pivotal events so you could experience some semblance of what you would have when it initially occurred, and most importantly, being the support you needed when things became overwhelming.

Slowly you were reintroduced to Mista, Fugo and Trish, reestablishing the friendships almost immediately. You were grateful for the wonderful people who surrounded you, from the staff at the villa to Giorno’s closest associates who constantly sought to aid in your recovery. Most of all though, you were grateful for Giorno, you were aware of how much he had done and continues to do to aid you. While you were cognizant of everything you had been through together, having regained most of your memory through your combined efforts, what had remained altered though, was how you felt about Giorno, this whole experience solidifying your bond even more than you thought possible, it had just reaffirmed that you both would be able to overcome even the most dire of situations if you handled it together.

#giorno giovanna x reader #giorno x reader #giorno giovanna #giorno #don giorno #don giovanna #giogio #jjba x reader #jojo x reader #vento aureo #jjba #golden wind #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken

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nakababakla · 3 years

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"Mary's a beard, she was made up, I mean why does she call him James huh, no Mary's a lesbian it was a lavender marriage" okokok but consider, just for fun.

Holmes is Mary, and Holmes and Watson are t4t.

SIGN was made to explain who the hell was this woman that Doctor Watson was now married to.

Everyone: Watson, who's that? I've never seen her.

Watson: UHHHHHHHHHHH

Watson, writing SIGN: She's an orphan, she led a retired life so she has no friends, which is why she consulted Sherlock Holmes.

"Mary went to visit her mother's" lmaooo

Holmes: Watson let's go on an adventure come on come on

Watson: But I'm supposed to be married, remember?

Holmes: Uhh, say, uhh, "Mary" is at her mother's *wink* COME ON!

"Holmes went to their house and slept in their bachelor room." They were trying roleplay and Holmes is playing the secret lover, "darling, your wife will smell the sheets, teehee, let's use the bachelor room"

"That was always the way. Folk who were in grief came to my wife like birds to a light-house." Who does that sound like?

Mary (i.e. Holmes) calls Watson James because that's his real name. John Hamish (or Henry, or Harry, whatever) Watson is his older brother's name, which he stole.

Remember that his father is an H.W., and first sons are named after their father? His older brother was John Hamish Watson Jr., but was called Hamish Jr. They were only a year apart, that in their youth, when older Watson gambled away their father's fortune, our Watson went to London, pretended to be him and took all his classes in university. Watson Sr. was probably also a doctor, so his colleagues at the uni were eager for the junior to study there.

He went on to take his brother's own medical licensure exam, then joined the army, either willingly or Mulan'ed it. Then everyone knows what happened next.

He used the first name John all his life, because John and Watson are both common names anyway. Also the reason why we have no idea what his real middle name is. If he divulged it, his readers might find out that he has a death certificate in his name.

So Mary (i.e. Holmes) calls him James, because that's his chosen name. Why James? Derived from his deadname? All the Watson sons had J-names? Well, ACD named everyone James and John in his stories.

"I should never have known you under that moustache, and I dare say you would not be prepared to swear to me," said his old friend Percy Phelps. 👀 👀

"I had neither kith nor kin in England" can be both true or false. Because we know he does have ex-friends in England. He just didn't seek them out after the army, so it stands to reason that he still has kin too. It's easy to speculate that his mother died earlier, or maybe later, for what mother wouldn't be stressed out if her trans son went to war? He could have had sisters, all later married off well. All the more reason why Watson had to pretend to be his brother, to give his sisters a good reputation.

"Watson left Holmes for a second/third wife in their later years" LMAOOO. Watson had to tell his colleagues that Mary was dead during the hiatus. Then Watson remarried Holmes as his second/third wife so they could retire together.

Someone: Bro, why does our friend Watson's new wife look like his first one?

Someone else: Idk, maybe he has a type.

"Holmes might be trans because he's always helping women in distress" Exactly! And who's been selecting these specific stories? Who was the feminist since day one, way before Irene Adler bonked Holmes' head? Watson.

#acd canon #sherlock holmes #headcanons #i suppose #trans holmes #trans watson #squawking #acd holmes #I ACTUALLY LIKE MARY THIS IS JUST FOR FUN #i would not defend this in court dhdjx

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sepedarodatiga · 3 years

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The Snow Queen fairytale as a motif used in GoT/ASOIAF

First of all, how many fairytales and myths can GRRM fit into this story, seriously?? I know many have written well thought and well informed meta of various fairytale motives fit with ASOIAF/GoT, and I am just here adding into an already huge pile, but it bothers me, okay. I have to get it out there into the tumblr void. And this is not really a well thought and well informed meta (I’m not a folklore/literature expert, not to mention European folklore/literature), I’m just pointing my fingers into the patterns I saw fit. Also, I can’t count myself as ASOIAF book reader, I just watch the show. What I know about the books, I read it here in tumblr.

But anyway, you might be surprised as to which character I saw fit as The Snow Queen in GoT

It’s Daenerys Targaryen.

I know I know... whaat? The Mother of Dragons, Bride of Fire as The Snow Queen? Get out of here, right...

But it’s a pun. It’s not The Snow Queen, it’s Jon Snow’s Queen, get it? Remember how Jon repeatedly saying “you’re my queen” to Dany during season 8? Yeah. Oh and Jon is Kay, while Sansa is Gerda.

What made me realize that Dany is The Snow Queen is when I was reading my son the fairytale. In the version retold by Kate Friend, it describes The Snow Queen as beautiful and terrible. And I was like, huh, just like Dany, especially with the white hair and the all white costume in season 8.

Daenerys Targaryen, beautiful and terrible.

And then of course the story went on describing how Kay becomes her prisoner and then I was like, well that’s like Jon Snow during season 8 too.... And then in Disney’s adaptation Frozen, Elsa has white hair with purple eyeshadow, while Anna (Gerda) has....red hair....which is like... Sansa Stark. Then I also remember the illustration on my son’s book which is by John Patience, that reminded me of the Iron Throne.

The Snow Queen illustration by John Patience. See how much alike this setting is with the Red Keep? Especially in Dany’s vision in HoTU when snow was falling.

So I went investigating, and shit... I mean obviously the sequencing was moved around, GRRM likes to subvert things, but my God!

Before we get into Jon Snow and his queen, I have to start with the other characters first. And I will be taking excerpt of the story from The Hans Christian Andersen Center website which I assume would be the most original one.

Gerda = Sansa Stark

Here is a description of Gerda’s power: “No power that I could give could be as great as that which she already has. Don't you see how men and beasts are compelled to serve her, and how far she has come in the wide world since she started out in her naked feet? We mustn't tell her about this power. Strength lies in her heart, because she is such a sweet, innocent child.”

Furthermore, her connection with Kay are through roses (they have a window box full of roses) and a song that goes like this: "Where roses bloom so sweetly in the vale, There shall you find the Christ Child, without fail." Another variation of the song is: “The rose in the valley has flowers so sweet, and angels come down there the children to greet.” She saved Kay with her prayers, hugs, kisses, tears and her song and their reunion literally ended winter and brings spring. If that’s not Sansa Stark (and the jonsa reunion), then I don’t know what is.

Gerda made a journey to the North to find Kay and bring him back together with her to their home. Sansa did not meant to make a journey North to find Jon and bring him back home, but this is what happened anyway. The story even stressed on the fact that when they came back to their homes, they were no longer children but grown ups. On her quest Gerda offered her red shoes to the river to get information about Kay’s whereabouts but the red shoes were given back to her the first time. But she did it once again and the river set her on the path to find Kay. I’m not really sure but for Sansa it could be her betrothal to Joffrey that was then canceled but then she got married to Tyrion Lannister. Her red shoes is her name and her claim to the North.

Gerda then met an old woman who wanted to keep her and made her forget about Kay by keeping all the roses underground. The old woman’s place was beautiful. Here is an excerpt: “Then Gerda was led into the flower garden. How fragrant and lovely it was! Every known flower of every season was there in full bloom. No picture book was ever so pretty and gay. Gerda jumped for joy, and played in the garden until the sun went down behind the tall cherry trees. Then she was tucked into a beautiful bed, under a red silk coverlet quilted with blue violets. There she slept, and there she dreamed as gloriously as any queen on her wedding day.” But then she saw a rose on the old woman’s hat and finally remembers her purpose of finding Kay. I would say that the old woman is Cersei Lannister who tried to make Sansa forget about her home and her innocence. Sansa was also saved from her clutch by roses (The Tyrells).

Then Gerda with information from a crow, met a Princess and Prince. She thought that the Prince might be Kay, but it turns out he was not. This might be Sansa’s vale arc and the Prince is either Petyr Baelish or Harry Hardyng. The Prince and Princess also gave provisions for Gerda’s journey to the North, so this may be that the KoTV helps Sansa getting Winterfell back. The crow, has a ladylove, another crow and they finally get married and live in the Princess’s castle though unfortunately the crow then died. The crow was a wild forest crow while his ladylove is a tame crow. These two crows could be genderbent into Sam Tarly and Gilly. Remember that Sam is mock as Jon’s ladylove by Alliser Thorne?

Next Gerda met a robber girl who sleeps with a knife and have plenty of pigeons. Yep, of course that is very much like Arya Stark (who sometimes is being referred to as “a girl”)

The pigeons told Gerda about Kay and The Snow Queen. The robber girl finally gave Gerda her reindeer called Bae for her journey to the North. The girl likes to tickle the reindeer’s neck with her knife. At the end of the story it is told that the robber girl then decided to leave her place and find adventure in the world. Very much like Arya’s ending.

Now about that reindeer Bae who helped Gerda to reach to Kay in The Snow Queen’s palace in the far North. In ASOIAF/GoT, we can connect Bae to Baelish. Make sense. Petyr Baelish helps Sansa get to North and Arya’s knife did end up in his neck. But also we can connect it to two foreshadowing of Sansa bearing Jon’s child. The first is more well-known: Bael the Bard. The second one I think is more hidden and I made a post about it quite long ago: Baelor. Is this far fetched? Maybe, but I’ll take it.

Kay = Jon (+ The Night King)

Kay and Gerda are neighbours and they share a garden (particularly a flower box full of roses). Their relationship, in the words of Hans Christian Andersen himself are: “These children were not brother and sister, but they loved each other just as much as if they had been.” So they are NOT brother and sister but love each other as such. While Jon and Sansa are also NOT brother and sister but was raised as such.

Then Kay got splinters of magic mirror stuck to his eyes and his heart. The mirror “made everything great and good that was reflected in it appear small and ugly, but which magnified all evil things until each blemish loomed large”. It made Kay hated all the roses, they look ugly now to his eyes and also made Kay loved the snow and the cold. Jon Snow at the beginning of the story was a cynical little boy because he was raised as a bastard. He wanted to leave Winterfell and sneered at the idea of having a family of his own because he felt that he can’t have them. So he went to the coldest place there is.

In the story, Kay plays with his sled, and then The Snow Queen came with her sled and Kay hooked his sled to hers. The Snow Queen first, covers Kay in a bearskin rug and gave Kay kisses. The first kiss “was colder than ice. He felt it right down to his heart, half of which was already an icy lump. He felt as if he were dying, but only for a moment. Then he felt quite comfortable, and no longer noticed the cold”. The second kiss makes Kay forgets about Gerda and their homes. The third kiss, The Snow Queen does not give him because it would be the kiss of death.

I argue that GRRM subvert this story. I think Jon Snow was already saved by Sansa before he met Dany. The splinters in his eyes and heart was already gone when he faced The Snow Queen. The reunion happened before he met Dany. The first two kisses also already happened: Jon Snow had died and came alive again, and he also forced to forget about his home and family while he was at the Night’s Watch. The bearskin rug which The Snow Queen used to cover Kay can allude to Jeor Mormont and/or Longclaw.

Then Jon Snow met his queen finally, but instead of a hooking sleds.... it’s dragons. Jon Snow’s sled was his dragon Rhaegal which are hooked to Dany’s sled Drogon. But his eyes wasn’t blinded by the splinter and his heart were already warm. He knowingly and willingly follow the dragon to save his family.

And the third kiss of death that wasn’t given by The Snow Queen? Jon Snow will give it to his queen instead.

Now let’s go back a little bit. Kay was also given a puzzle from ice by The Snow Queen, and if he can solve it then he is free. He was supposed to spell the word “eternity” but he couldn’t figure it out with the shard in his eyes and heart. In GoT we know exactly who has got an shard in his heart.

The Night King. And so that is why he plays with puzzle in ice. He is struggling to form the one symbol that would set him free.

Bonuses

Other than those patterns, there are several interesting tidbits from the story that fits with ASOIAF. There is this one blog said that The Snow Queen story was inspired by another story called “East of the Sun and West of the Moon” which if you read it, it is essentially “The Bear and the Maiden Fair” (the bear is a white bear, by the way)

More bonuses here. When Gerda finally remembers to find Kay during her time in the old woman’s home because of the rose, different flowers gave her different stories even though none tells her about Kay.

This is the story from tiger lily:

"Do you hear the drum? Boom, boom! It was only two notes, always boom, boom! Hear the women wail. Hear the priests chant. The Hindoo woman in her long red robe stands on the funeral pyre. The flames rise around her and her dead husband, but the Hindoo woman is thinking of that living man in the crowd around them. She is thinking of him whose eyes are burning hotter than the flames-of him whose fiery glances have pierced her heart more deeply than these flames that soon will burn her body to ashes. Can the flame of the heart die in the flame of the funeral pyre?"

So GRRM didn’t take the sati ritual for Dany’s rites of passage as mother of dragons from just anywhere, but it is from this story.

Also, hear this story from hyacinth

"There were three sisters, quite transparent and very fair. One wore a red dress, the second wore a blue one, and the third went all in white. Hand in hand they danced in the clear moonlight, beside a calm lake. They were not elfin folk. They were human beings. The air was sweet, and the sisters disappeared into the forest. The fragrance of the air grew sweeter. Three coffins, in which lie the three sisters, glide out of the forest and across the lake. The fireflies hover about them like little flickering lights. Are the dancing sisters sleeping or are they dead? The fragrance of the flowers says they are dead, and the evening bell tolls for their funeral."

Of course this immediately bring to memory the quote of Jon Snow with Val: “The light of the half-moon turned Val’s honey-blond hair a pale silver and left her cheeks as white as snow. She took a deep breath. “The air tastes sweet.”” Well then, according to Hans Christian Andersen, that means death. There are three sisters here which could allude to the three queens at the almost end of GoT: Cersei Lannister (red), Sansa Stark (blue) and Daenerys Targaryen (white).

So those are my stab at it. I would be interested to hear if anyone’s take on it.

#jonsa #anti jonerys #anti daenerys targaryen #sansa stark #jon snow #the snow queen

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boredoverlord · 3 years

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Bucky X Reader - Hold the Line

I came in here to show you a good time, so here's my personal work and my very first fanfiction of all time. And because I'm a thirsty bitch, of course it's smut.

Summary : As a young and talented psychologist specializing in difficult people in prison, you believed in a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to work with the SHIELD. Turned out you were tricked to work for HYDRA.

For three years they made you do horrors in the name of an ideology you despised, but you may have found the occasion to finally make a change for the good, when they introduced you to your new patient.

The Winter Soldier.

Rating : Explicit, please kids, look away ( of course you won't because you're cute little rebels, but please do it)

Word count : 6.4k (chapter 1)

TW: Light BDSM (for now) Because Bucky is a massive Sub and it seems nobody agrees with me, so I have to do the lord's work here.

Foul language, mention of violence and murder, Masturbation, male orgasm and a tiiiny bit of choking. I started lightly

Please consider reading this on Archive of our own or read it below the cut. Lemme know what you think !

Chapter 1: A Story of Almost Everything

You never were the type to brag. But one thing you know is : you’re damn good at your job. Years and years of psychology studies, you barely got to parties, you hardly made any friends, and your sleeping schedule is still a nightmare. Those were sacrifices you did for one sole purpose : helping others. To be the last resort for people who have lost everything. You always firmly believed that you could make a change in the world, even the slightest, even for just one person. That would have been enough to make your lifetime worthy. What's more noble than just a genuine try to make it better, after all ? So you wasted your youth on studies, without a damn blink. And never one ounce of regret. You did it because it felt right. You’re not very brave, but you decided to face your fear a couple of times. You even were an intern in a high security prison, talking to broken men and women who hated your guts. Trying to lead them to another path of life. You heard stories that could break any mind. Only time could tell if you actually helped them. But that’s part of the job. Hope. And hard work.

That’s why when you started to have a growing reputation, at 26 after five years of studies and several years working in prison and rehabilitation, you were ecstatic when S.H.I.E.L.D contacted you. You quit everything, starting with your homeland in Europe, to fly to Washington DC, to visit the headquarters. The new building, the thrill of novelty, the clean rooms, the medical wing, and Alexander Pierce himself coming to shake your hand and telling you personally the wonders they have in mind for the psychology field. You could prepare people to save the world, you could have all the resources to make research, and fix minds that were supposed to be beyond repair. It was supposed to be just a quick trip, but the visit wasn’t even done when you looked at your guide with enthusiasm : you weren’t going home. Just cancel the fly. You’re taking the job immediately. It was three years ago.

Enough to understand how fucked you are.

You didn’t save anyone, you didn’t even work to make the world a better place. Oh but you did work to make a change. A change for HYDRA. They tortured you to make you swallow their ideology, but even if your body surrendered, your mind didn’t, even if it was still a perpetual work on yourself. You never believed in this masquerade, but you know it doesn’t matter. Because HYDRA knows how good you are at your job, and you’re a precious asset. So precious that they pushed all your buttons to make you obey. You tried to act and escape. Their last resort is the Damocles sword they put over your family’s head. Next act of rebellion, heads will roll. And it won’t be yours : no, no. HYDRA won’t give you this relief. It will be your loved ones. So you’re doing what you have to do. It’s the most cowardly choice, you know it. And you’re ashamed. But you’re too terrorised to make it otherwise. So you’re here to twist people's minds to swallow whatever Hydra wants. You make them understand the importance of the organization, when they can’t take it anymore, you make them understand that not only they can, but they must . You saw vulnerable people giving their life to this awful cause, and you are the person to make them understand it was the right thing to do. They gave you kind people with dreams, morals and passion, and you turn this into anger, hate and war, worshipping a crazy doctrine that spoils everything you believed and fought for. You have blood on your hands. You’re THAT good at your job.

So when they called you for a highly secret mission, you weren’t exactly surprised. Just disgusted by them, and mostly yourself. In the guts of what was called the Ideal Federal Saving Bank, you’re obediently following the chef himself : Alexander Pierce, to your next place of action. “I believe you have read your mission’s order, Y/N ?” “Yes Sir.” You said. “It did mention I will have the whole file today, though. I need to take a look at my patient so I can work in proper condition.” “Whatever you call it.” He said, opening the door of the clandestine laboratory in the now abandoned bank. If not for the machinery, we could still believe that those art deco walls filled with safes would still contain treasures of a lifetime for some people. Now there is nothing of value in here, not even the very skin of every PoS present. And you were including yourself. Making your way in the middle of the heavy set up, you slowly reach the pod in the middle, chewing secretly the interior of your cheeks. You know what’s inside, and it makes you want to puke. Mr Pierce continued “Doctor, as your mission was presented to you, your one on only assignment will be the physical and mostly the psychological perfect condition of the Winter Soldier, for the entire length of this mission on american soil.” Basically, be sure his brain is a fucking slushy. You reluctantly nodded and drew closer. “What’s his condition ?” At the top of your height, barely 5’3, you tiptoed to actually look at him by the window of the cryostasis chamber, since you never got this close of a look, not without the file and basically crumbs of info that were thrown at your face. They expected you to keep a dog on a leash, not making actual work on him, and it shows. White man, late 20s to early 30s, approx 5”7, long dark messy hair, not shaved, geez, it seemed like the poor guy was barely cleaned up before being pushed here. Good physical condition, breathing was steady. You could see the steam of his breath on the glass. He may be clinically asleep, but she highly doubted he would be in his best shape. He looked uncomfortable, and tired. It wasn’t a restorative sleep. It was a prison. You couldn’t help but notice his prosthetic arm, even if that was the only thing you knew about him. It’s a fascinating work of science, that’s for sure. And even if transhumanism and biomechanical wasn’t your forte, you wanted to have a closer look, to satisfy your curiosity. One of the scientists watching his screen responded : “He’s gently defrozing, should be half conscious in 5 minutes. You may want to take a step down.” You ignore that, and lean your hand to your superior. “May I finally have what I have been asking for ?” With the most irritating smile, he gave you the Winter Soldier’s File and you quickly opened it to have a first look at all the fuss. Basic physical information, previous missions report, date of entering and ending of cryostasis, bare minimal medical record, notes by her predecessor, fucking trigger words to make him kneel like a 12 years old in front of any boysband... nothing about his previous life, his antics, his name, actual disorders, no name, nor adresses… You glaced a bit at Pierce and threw a polite smile. He knows what he’s doing, and he knows you know. You’re extremely good with very violent patients. You have endured rapists and murderers spiting in your face and swearing to bite your head off and fucking your skull. You were traumatized and you cried yourself to sleep, but the following day you did your job again. You’re just here to handle the worst of the worst. And you’re going to do it.

Or he’s going to break your neck and fuck your skull. You’re fine with that.

“Thank you it’s going to be very helpful.” As helpful as a band-aid on a wooden leg. “What’s this device ?” You point your chin to another machine not far away from it. One of the two men finishing installing it, raised his head to look at you. “A memory suppressing machine. Usually he doesn’t need it as much as he used to, but it’s mainly for safety. He must be prepared.” “He’s in a state where he willingly takes it. So don’t hesitate if he’s starting to be annoying, or excited. That can happen. But that mean you would probably have to work more with him to make him fully ready for his mission,” “Understood, thank you for clarification gentlemen.” You smiled and they smiled back. You’re a woman, so you’re used to it. Basically this shit was supposed to hack his brain, and it must be painful. “I would strongly recommend not using it at such a time. From what I quickly read he needs stability and time. Wiping everything out will more likely create more confusion.” You took a look at the file again and took it upon yourself to not have your eyes double in size and screaming at this bunch of idiots. “... and it does seem he’s using it a lot.”

“We want the asset to be as focused as possible.”

“I understand that, but that's a temporary solution at best. He’s got a brain, not a harddrive. We still don’t know how it can store information, and if it can…” “The last time we used him was five years ago…” Started Pierce, with diplomaty, but also with a tone that wasn’t allowing any more debate on the matter. “And this mission is an absolute priority. The asset is strictly under cryostasis procedure as soon as he’s not needed anymore. The machine will be used if needed.” “I understand your point.” You absolute psychopath. “Then my request is simply to be here if it happens, and to be able to control the shocks. Also, I insist that he must be in perfect condition when you launch the procedure, I’ll personally make it happen and give you a green light.” “Thank you for your hard work.” He said, raising his hand, that you promptly and politely shook. You could feel the angry grasp. “I know you’re the perfect woman for this hard job. Your work is an inspiration for us all.” You wish you could end your life right here right now, instead of being told such atrocities. But you think about your mom and dad. At this time of year they start to prepare the pool for the summer, for the future neighborhood barbecues where they will brag to everyone about their incredible psychiatrist daughter who is doing secret stuff over sea to help save the world. You have to be strong. At least for them. At least for now.

“Hail Hydra.”

“Hail Hydra.” You responded, while your tongue feels like sandpaper.

“Ok he’s starting to wake up…” Someone warns, as Pierce leaves the room, unbothered. The pod opens before your eyes, as the asset -you hate this term- is being roughly handled and carried away by two dudes to his seat. The one dangerously close to the memory suppressing machine. You squatted in front of him, the time for him to blink several times and look around him. Confused, but it’s not exactly his first rodeo either. His eyes are quickly focused on the first thing in front of him : you. He looked like he was trying to remember who you are, but quickly realized he didn’t know you. Two blue spears digging right into your soul. That’s making you a bit uncomfortable. The same weird feeling of unease you have when a cat is watching you taking a shower. “Hi.” You started, in english, even if he could be from italy you had no freaking clue. You guessed that he was probably slavic. But the file says he’s speaking more than ten languages. And it wasn’t specified when and how the hell did he learn that. “Can you hear me?” He took a few more seconds to look at you, probably the time to finish reading every embarrassing moment of your life, right into your eyes, like your drunk 18th birthday when you finished in your panties swimming in a city fountain, but he nodded eventually. You actually know this look. But it’s the first time you have a super soldier in front of you so it’s of a rare intensity. He’s dissecting you. Gathering information. His eyes moved slightly down : a recent scar on your neck. Right : an ex piercing on the top of your ear, now unusable. Down left : he just realized you’re slightly unbalanced so he knows you have a hip issue. And down right : he’s looking at your hand, you don’t really know what he saw here, maybe calculating how to break them ? You were literally a foot in a viper’s nest. Were you terrified ? Absolutely. Will that forbid you to do your job ? Nope. “Can you follow the light ?” You asked, moving slowly your phone’s lamp from left to right in front of his eyes. He did it without questioning. “Ok good.” You tried a smile, not really knowing why. If he was at least a tenth as clever as the file said he was, he perfectly know that you’re here to fuck him up. But you couldn’t help it. Poor dude. He was visibly more or less your age. He could have been a prince, or thief, a womanizer, or a priest, whatever, HYDRA took everything from him. From his free will, of his right to grow old, to his sleep. “Can you tell me your name ?” He frowned, perplexed. “Winter Soldier.” Shitty answer but at least he was fully aware, and his tongue was working properly. “Nice to meet you, I’m doctor Y/N. We’re here to work together in preparation of your next assignment. Do you understand ?” He nodded, unimpressed. “Good, can you get up ?” He did, so you did it too. And he realized that you were… very short. His eyes literally went up and slooowly down. That was a bit mean, actually. You carefully took a glance behind you, and your eyeroll could probably trigger an earthquake. “Can you all nice gentlemen let down a bit of their weapon ?” You said at the 6 dudes with rifles literally fixed on him, ready to shoot at the wrong twitch of muscle. No wonder he wasn’t talkative. “You won’t say that when he will break your neck with two fingers, ‘mam.”

“He’s pretty stable for now. Plus he’s not fully awake, let’s give him time before threatening him, shall we ?”

Nobody moved for ten seconds before one of them complied, since you didn’t move. The rest of the bunch reluctantly followed . You looked at your patient, hoping that that would have made him a bit more relaxed. Nope, he didn’t give a shit. He wasn't even looking at them. He was looking at you. You’re the mystery of this room to him. But you didn’t need extra vision to understand that Docs treated him like a guinea pig, so he was very understandably extra careful with you. Standing on his feet, all his muscles ready for action, that’s the exact moment you realized how close you two were. Indeed, if he decided to, your jaw would fly across the room in a single move. You never had such a display of sheer raw strength, and you could feel the heat of his body radiate.

“He needs a shower, and clothings.” You said, having a look at his 5 years old combat suit still reeking the smell of his sweat. It was intoxicating. They didn’t even allow him to clean himself. Poor dude was frozen in his own filth for the last five years. And you didn’t know why you took an even deeper breath. “And I’m talking about comfy workout clothes, no combat suit. Please escort him and handle him with care, before bringing him to my office.” You actually decided to be sure he wouldn’t be mistreated, by waiting outside the man’s bathrooms. You weren’t certain of how he could react, and you didn’t trust anyone here. If one of them decided to do a piss contest with your patient, it could end badly. So you put your hands in your pockets, looking at the two armed men waiting for the most dangerous assassin in the world to finish scrubbing himself with soap. The atmosphere was heavy and the silence was loud in itself. Even the sound of the shower was stressful and menacing.

When the Soldier was escorted to your improvised office into the archive, directly linked to a storage room that will be your bedroom for the next weeks, you let him take a seat and promptly blocked the access to the room of the two escort members. “Thank you sirs, that will be all. Please wait here.” They look at you like you just told them you were dating their daughters. “Sorry Miss, but we can’t…” “Sorry Doctor , and I can’t work properly with weapons in my office.” You raised your hand, showing your device on your wrist. Something that would not only call for aid by a simple pressure, but could stun an opponent. Neither them nor you were stupid : it wouldn’t stop The Winter Soldier, maybe he would blink a second at most. But you really wanted to be alone with him. Was he dangerous ? Yes. Were you absolutely certain that you would leave this room alive if you closed this door to their face ? No. But it’s been three years since your priority wasn’t your survival anymore. So you forced a smile and slapped the door. They needed you more than you needed them, so they will obey.

“Douchebags.” You muttered to yourself while coming back to your desk. Your patient didn’t even move a muscle at your little argument. He wasn’t totally inexpressive actually, mostly terribly broody. His hair was still wet from the shower he took, wearing cargo pants, heavy boots and hoodies, generic clothes by HYDRA. You got those too, since you’re not allowed to carry anything personal for mission to mission. You had a tablet for books, music and movies, but that was it. You haven’t opened your shelves yet, but you know it’s full of ugly clothes and generic black panties of doom.

You took a large inspiration, sat on your desk in front of him, and started : “Ok ‘Winter Soldier’... how are you doing ?” He didn’t even flinch. He was staring into your soul with his eyes lost into dark circles. Depriving someone of proper sleep is a basic rule for brainwash. “You enjoyed the shower ?” Nothing. You waited for a bit to see if he would finally respond. Ten seconds. Twenty. fourty. a minute. When he gathered that you were actually looking for an answer, visibly a first one for him, he finally gave you the courtesy of one. “Yes.” “Perfect.” You didn’t hide your slight smile and tiled your head. “I’ll be sure you’re in your best condition for your next mission. If something’s on your mind, I need to know about it. Nothing will get out of this room. Both of our priorities are your goal, and your condition is the key to success. Which makes you , my high top priority. Do you understand me ?” “Yes.”

“Ok so let’s get going.” You took another file, and took a picture out, ready to handle it to him. “Is the name : Nicholas Fury, ringing some bells to you?” “Yes.” He took it inside his titanium fingers and finally moved his piercing blue eyes away from you to look at the picture. “In two weeks, you’ll be in Washington DC. An entire squad will be deployed to assassinate him. Fury is the leader of the S.H.I.E.L.D, not a mere target. He will break free and fight back. That will be when you’ll show up.” He wasn’t looking at the picture anymore. One thing for sure : at least he was paying attention to you, and what you were saying. And that made you actually kind of proud of yourself. “That was part one. I’ll personally supervise your training with the VR machine and your physical health and condition. I really need you to communicate with me all the time about anything that could be in your mind. The more focused you are, the more Hydra’s plan will succeed.” And what’s that plan ? You have not a single clue. You were a cog in the machine, disposable. Not much more than him. “Do you understand ?” “I understand.” Oh shit, two words this time!

“Good.” You smiled. He didn’t. You move your hands closer to him, to take a grip on the picture. He opened his prosthetic hand, leaving you to take it back. Nothing in his gesture seems dangerous. Just normal, somehow cordial. “I must ask : are you in any pain right now ?” His eyes significantly get from right to left. He must probably wonder why you are asking him that. Did nobody ever ask him such basic questions like : ‘are you in pain?’ This man's sole purpose was to fight, that made no damn sense for you.

“Sir ?” You insisted for an answer, even if the ‘sir’ sounded absolutely ridiculous to your ears. You didn’t know his name, and you don’t feel comfortable calling him “Winter Soldier” , “Soldier”, “Sir De Winter”, “Hey you,he soviet assassin” so it will be “Sir” for now. “Sir are you in pain right now ?” “I’m not in pain.” A complete sentence, that’s progress. You breathed a bit better “Ok good.” You got up from your desk, which was honestly barely taller that him remaining on his chair. He didn’t let go of your eyes and you decided to make a bold move. For now, he was always being responsive so you slowly moved your hands toward him. To his prosthetic hand. “May I take a look, please ?” You glanced at each other, nobody made the first move. In complete silence, if it wasn’t for both of your breaths. You’re almost sure that it has been at least 5 minutes since you decided to speak again. Slowly, and gently, with no signs of confrontation in your body language or speech. “I will not do it until you comply. And you can refuse the contact.” He didn’t answer right away but he finally nodded.

Slowly, you took his hand into yours, lifting it from his thigh where it was resting. At the beginning it was just taking a look. But he wasn’t making any moves, so you decided to take your observation a little further. You used your other hands to start to move each finger separately, taking a step closer to him. Finally, you made one of your hands slowly sliding into the hoodie, to feel the muscles, the nerves, how it feels like a real arm. It was cold, but you felt it shudder to your touch. That was the line you decided to not take it further.

“Thank you, Soldier.” You said with a smile, taking away your hands from him. You moved behind your desk, opening your notepad to take a bunch of notes, breaking the contact with him. Just a second. But when you raised your eyes again, The Winter Soldier wasn’t in sight.

You shuddered and didn’t make a single move. If it wasn’t for your fingers grasping your desk. You did your best to have a steady respiration and not start to panic. Your throat dried up immediately. You took a deep breath and say : “Please, get back to your seat.” You slowly moved your head to look right back at him. He was standing. His eyes were black, taking loud deep breaths, fixing your behind your shoulder. Tall. Dangerous. You were terrorised. And he could smell it. He didn’t move so you stood up as well, and slowly faced him. You try to remain in total control of your body and not start to fidget. You could scream for help, but for whatever reason, you still had the feeling you could handle the situation. Trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t the first time a patient was disobedient. The only difference was that this one could crush your skull in a bat of an eye,

“Get back.” You said once again, bearing his piercing eyes, but he didn’t budge. So you took out your hand and put it on his chest. You felt like an ant against a mountain, but you pushed him a bit. “We will go nowhere this way.” You resumed trying to get a step closer, even if it will be creating a proximity that could be even more lethal to you. “So please, get back to…”

Something happened. It was obvious, and clear as day : you felt the bulge between his legs. Right above your navel. Hardening even more now that he could feel your body. You decided immediately to repress the shameful feeling of your very inside warming up and tickling you. “Winter Soldier.” You growled, angry but trying your best to remain as professional as you could. Of course, of fucking course. This guy was gorged on serum and hormones, quick, violent actions, and adrenaline. Pumping in his veins, burning 24/7. His body was on the edge all the time, and he just awoke from a dreamless slumber. He was a human, whatever all these idiots were thinking, not a freakin’ cyborg. When was the last time he saw a woman that he didn’t smash the head on a wall ? You even suspected that Pierce was counting on it. Nonetheless, you were alone in an office, literally glued with the world's most dangerous assassin, who was having a massive hard-on. Throbbing against you. You had your share of very awkward situations in your short life time. But nothing, nothing prepared you for this. And you had even less of an idea of what to do because he was doing nothing . He was feeling uncomfortable, that you could say, but he wasn’t really doing any moves to attack you, or even take you. He was standing here, with heavy breathing, his eyes still piercing you. And you slowly slided your gaze to his lips, finding the vision of his hard laboured breath strangely mesmerizing.

Short of ideas, your reflexes took the best (or the worst) of you, and without you realizing it, your hand was around his neck. Your palm pressured on his glottis, and you clearly felt him swallow. As clearly as you felt him becoming even harder. Your breath was starting to shake, as you felt a not-so subtle chill coursing your spin. You drew his face and your face closer, as you finally moved forward, forcing him to move as well. Forcing was a strong word : the last time you hit a punching bag, you hurt yourself and sobbed for an hour. But for whatever reason, he did whatever you wanted. As if he was testing your resolve to make him obey. But there was nothing on his file about this behaviour. He tried to attack, kill and escape. Nothing about testing the limits of anyone.

“You. Will. Sit. Down!” you spat, through your teeth, forcing even more your grip around his neck, as your other hand was reaching for his hair. You pulled it, not too harshly, but you could definitely smell the musk, and the wetness of what stayed of his shower.

You did it. He was sitting down again. And your bodies departed for one another. For once he tried to escape your gaze, which was a strangely human reaction. You both managed to get your breath back, before you decided to call the guard to adjourn your observation.

As soon as the door closed behind them, you felt your legs giving up and you sat on the ground, back against your desk, a small wimp leaving your throat. You felt your eyes starting to wet, and your teeth rattled a bit so you tried to cuddle yourself to try to retake control on your body. Your hands were shaking uncontrollably as his intoxicating smell was still all around you. It was by far one of the most terrifying experiences you ever felt, and it was all clouded by the phantom feeling of his body against yours. You could still feel his gaze, his heat, his… well, his cock against your belly. You were still chilling, trying to repress whatever you were feeling at this instant. Because it wasn’t right, for you. Nor him. Everyone in this godforsaken organisation was treating him like a dog, just here to attack and do tricks, but you swore to yourself not to do the same. You will succeed at your mission, but you’ll do it from the crumbs of humanity and morality that HYDRA left you. You will do anything possible that the mission will be complete, the most painless possible for this broken man you just saw. Wait a second.

Painless .

You jumped on your feet, ignoring the numbness of your legs caused by the shock, and you ran at the door, screaming at the three men at the end of the corridor. “HEY !” The guards startled a bit and looked at you “I changed my mind. Bring the Winter Soldier back to my office.” They briefly exchange what seems to be a bunch of insults about you, but they comply to bring the Soldier back. Him ? He seemed absolutely unbothered.

You closed the door behind the both of you, to the face of the guards yet again. He was standing here, showing his back as you slowly got back in front of him. Hands in your pocket, not really sure of what to do nor how to do it. He was looking at you, this same feeling of unease than before. And for reasons : a small glance confirmed that he was still rock hard. You didn’t make any move for a long time, until you finally put your hand on his chest. You felt his breathing becoming slightly quicker. “You’re not in pain.” You whispered, and he shook his head, negatively. “That was the wrong question. I’m sorry... “ Without you noticing, you had the palm of your hand on his cheek, scrubing lightly his stubble with your thumb as an apology. You breathed in, just couldn’t believe what you were about to say. “Do you need help ?” His expression didn’t change, but his eyes ? They became a bit brighter, you could even see a bit of relief when you saw him nod.

You swiftly move your other index on his pillowy lips as you still lower your voice. “They cannot hear us.” He nodded again as the only feeling of your finger as close to his mouth made him shiver with anticipation. He was literally dying of anything that could relieve him. And for what you understood, as your conversation continued, he trusted you with his body, to provide him with the sweet touch he has been totally deprived of. You slowly push away your index to gently slide your thumb between his lips, and he sighed with pleasure as he took it with an eagerness you would never have believed possible. The most deadly assassin in the world, the legendary Winter Soldier that everyone wishes he wasn’t real, was purring while sucking your finger. If you weren’t the shrink, you’ll be needing one immediately. You gently moved him to make him sit in his chair, he was way too tall for you to handle this with ease. “What about the showers?” You asked him, as you removed your thumb to make it gently slide on his lips, your other hand crawling across his chest to his pants. He swallowed before whispering. “I could but... “ his well built square jaws started to tense, with a visible revulsion. “... They can watch.” Disgusting. He couldn’t even close the damn door of the shower. “You’re safe here.” You said as your hand was finally reaching the bulge behind his Hydra cargo pants. You didn’t know what you expected but… it was way beyond that. He hissed a bit at the feeling of your hand as you started to touch it gently over the fabric.

Now he was panting, looking at you as you were a single oasis after years of thirst in the desert. “Please…” You heard, barely audible when he was starting to lose it. “I got you, but you have to promise me to be good.” “Anything. Please…”

And at your very surprise, you obliged him. Using your hand to plunge into his pants, while the other fast pressed into his mouth, muffing the immediate deep moan that escaped at the very second you touched his pulsing penis. He started panting even more, as he used his flesh arm to drive you onto him. His forehead against yours. You couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer and closer. Actually you let go of his -massive- erection a second to just drop out his pants, and his breach. You stopped a second, only to watch him begging you with his eyes, as you could feel his saliva at the palm of your hand while you muzzled him. It was it. You realized what kind of power you have over this man. He has been used and abused in every single way, but for once : someone’s finally doing what he wanted. You had his pleasure in your very hands, and for once in years, you could finally help someone. So you’re gonna do it, you’re going to make him feel good. Very good. “Good boy.” You muttered, without knowing where the hell that could come from, and you reached him again. Stroking your hands up and down his shaft, nourishing yourself over the vibration of his muffled moans against your hand. His eyes weren't leaving yours, if it wasn’t for when they seemed to roll to the sky. His vision periodically blackened by the waves of forbidden pleasure he was feeling over his body, who was barely him anymore. Your eyes were gorging on the vision of his handsome muscular man, surrendering himself to your touch, sweating, trembling and panting for you. You were saluted by an utterly satisfied noise the moment you decided to lean over his manhood to drip a large amount of your own saliva moist what was already on the edge of ruin. You rolled your thumb against his tip, massage his veins with just one finger… anything to make him feel something. Anything that wasn’t pure anger, hatred or apathy. You were inclined to believe the file saying that he was nothing but a perfectly built weapon for HYDRA to command. But now, when you tickled, teased and made him shiver, and you felt all his sincere gratitude, you were certain : There is a man in here. And he was finally feeling good .

But soon, it wasn’t enough anymore. Seeing his bare thighs, powerful, thicken by years of training and super soldier serum, tensed by all the nerves and muscles deliciously answering to your call, made your inside warmed up. Your core was aching, screaming for proximity and intimacy, and before you understood what happened, you sat astride on his left thigh. The soft flesh between your legs immediately responded with delight, making you shiver. Almost instantly, you felt his grip on your hip, of the cold metal digging into your flesh with despair. It was a super soldier, with the stamina of several dozen men, but it’s been so long, and you were touching him with perfection. You felt his head on your shoulder, and slowly you started licking his temple, tasting the very fruit of your hard work : his sweat.

Galvanized by his intoxicating smell, and the thrusting he started giving to your hand, you started to move like a snake, rocking against his skin, looking for some pressure despite the fabric of your pants, mercilessly acting like a barrier of your own pleasure. You could get it off, but it was a limit that you forbid yourself to cross. But it’s true, as you were working him, you couldn’t stop yourself to think of how this would feel. Sliding inside you. You were so very short and fragile, and compared to your hand, his phallus was gigantic. He could ruin you, split you in half, using his bare hands and make you do anything. But the only person in control here, were you. And only you. You never felt anything like this before. And it’s highly probable than neither did he. You tried to vanish the thought, but the more you could feel his thigh between yours, the more you became obsessed.

The more he was approaching, the more eager the soldier became. Both of his hands firmly gripped on your behind, almost certain that it will leave bruises, but you didn’t care at this very moment. His grunts against your hands became more and more intense, and you started to feel he was about to give in. In between your fingers, small drips of salivas were started to escape. You couldn’t give up your grip now, so you made it even more tight, drawing your lips closer to your hands, you whispered as your sore wrist fastened its path “I’m here for you. Give everything to me.”

His panting became incontrolable, his eyes rolled out, his head dropped back, before he finally reached his peak. You felt the deep vibration of his ultimate cry on your hand, as your other hand was dripping of hot seed. You slowly removed your other hand from his face, and could contemplate your masterpiece : the Soldier absolutely looked like a mess, with his red face, his eyes blinking furiously, covered with his own saliva. You left his leg, both your hands dripping of his bodily fluids. You used the one that was on his lips to pick his head and forced him to look at you. You ravished your vision of this man who absolutely surrendered to your good care, deeply satisfied with your attention. You cradled his face, and you took a large lick of his spit from his chin to his mouth. Where he leaned for a wet and warm kiss. You took a good taste of him, intoxicated by whatever pheromones he could diffuse around you.

You look at him another few seconds, before recluandly moving away, to the bathroom where you not only washed your hands, but came back with a wet towel. You first cleaned with infinite care his face, and then his genitals, making sure he wouldn’t have any kind of unpleasant sensation as he had a big day ahead of him. You were his doctor and caretaker, and he had a mission to prepare. He seemed to respond well to the cleaning, not really expressive, but he made no sudden move. You could see him sighing with ease, closing his eyes as he rubbed his cheek in your palm again, when you were caressing him with the wet towel. You could still hear a loud satisfying purr. If you didn’t specifically ask him to kill someone less that an hour ago, you would actually find this absolutely adorable.

You breathed in and out, making sure he was okay. “Are you feeling better ?...” He nodded, visibly relaxed, as he was closing his pants but not much more expressive than before. He stood up, in front of you, like nothing happened. “Yes.” But to your surprise he added a second later. “Thank you, doctor.” You smiled at him as you couldn’t keep yourself from making your knuckles caressing his cheek, and finally tracking the shape of his jaws. “Good boy.” You heard yourself say, wondering what the fuck was wrong with you.He didn’t react. All the shivers, purring, sighing, and moans disappeared as soon as his pants closed. It was for the best, and you quickly took your hand back, clearing your throat. You call the guards. The Winter Soldier was fully ready for his mission preparation, and you asked them to give him some time to recover from… his cryostatic, before you would start the procedure.

In the meantime, you need a shower. A long, hot, steamy, shower.

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suganovakawa · 4 years

Text

𝐒𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐄 .

PAIRINGS : tooru oikawa x fem! reader , slight hajime iwaizumi x fem! reader

GENRE : angst , romance

WARNINGS : cursing , car accident , recovery from amnesia

SYNOPSIS : tooru doesn’t understand how special you are to him until he comes close to losing you forever . as he struggles to comes to grips with his feelings and balance it with his future , you still have to recover from your own injuries , but without your memories to assist you .

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 < [ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 ] > 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐄𝐍

he knows what could happen if you remember. he’ll do anything to prevent that.

word count : 1.6k

saudade masterlist .

SAUDADE

( 𝐧 . ) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant , or that has been loved and then lost ; “ the love that remains ”

⠀whatever iwaizumi was thinking, he certainly had no logic. honestly, he probably would've been better off just not telling you a thing about oikawa. after all, he should've known from the start it's in human nature to want to push past restrictions forced upon them. and as much as it pained him, he knew he had messed up bad, his anger getting the best of his common sense and regretting it a day later.

⠀he knew you were curious about your boyfriend.

⠀rather, the boyfriend you didn't even know you had.

⠀from the very beginning, hajime could see it in your eyes - the natural attraction your body held as you and oikawa first exchanged short glances towards each other in class. volleyball had taught him to be quite the observer, and you made no effort in being subtle. unfortunately for iwa, oikawa noticed your innocent curiosity as well.

⠀he was afraid to ask you more about what you remember. it was different from the first day you had woken up from your coma, you were completely out of it so your muddled brain couldn't have remembered nor recollected much. now that you were spending regular time at school, just like normal, your memories might have just resurfaced sporadically. as far as hajime knew, you remembered everything, just pretending like you're still suffering from memory loss.

⠀but he knew you weren't like that. you wouldn't do that to him.

⠀you two weren't best friends before the accident, basically just friendly acquaintances who shared the same pain in trying to make the aoba johsai volleyball captain learn how to stop and take a damn breather. you had made it quite obvious in the past that you were an admirer of oikawa's, much to hajime's dismay - but he suppressed such feelings, in fear he'd be seen as too selfish.

⠀and he paid the price by seeing you happy in oikawa's arms.

⠀maybe iwaizumi was biased, but tooru really was more on the shitty side when it came to being a boyfriend. he had asked his peer countless times why he had accepted your feelings when he knew he didn't have time for a relationship; and every single time, hajime would get the exact same answer:

⠀"she made me happy at the winter tournaments, i'm only returning the sentiments."

⠀does causing your car accident count as making you happy?

⠀seeing how determined tooru was to get close to you again, pissed hajime off. what was there to be pissed off about, though? if this was a game, iwaizumi was winning. oikawa lost everything, from his reputation to his girlfriend. hajime was on his way to making you happier than tooru ever could. there was no competition here - he had this hook, line, and sinker.

⠀at least, he should have it in the sinker.

⠀a part of him knew, deep down, he was always default to second place. even without your memories, you still had your conscience, that internal voice in the back of your head that still held its senses. and if your conscience was stupid enough to adore oikawa even after everything he's done to you, how could the ace possibly fight against it? you could've died. and it would've been oikawa's harsh words as the true perpetrator.

⠀he wanted to prove a point to himself, you, and oikawa. that he was worth it. that you shouldn't have to waste your time with a scumbag who took your adoration and admiration for granted. the entire team knew that tooru wasn't the type to put anything over volleyball, and he displayed that when it came to your guys' relationship. while the captain was deserving of any praise he received that was volleyball related, hajime knew that it was unfair for you to be neglected because he spends so much time and energy on it.

⠀"hajime? are you listening to me?"

⠀he turned his head towards you, your words shaking him out of his daze. he blinked a couple of times and sat up, turning his head so his attention was fully on you. "sorry, y/n. a bit tired today. what do you need?"

⠀"huh? i don't need anything." you shook your head. "i was telling you that makki and mattsun were inviting me to go out with them today, just out to eat so they can also fill me in on random things, and to talk a little more. i said yes because they seem nice enough, and you seem to trust them, so i didn't have a reason to say no. i just wanted to tell you because i'm not going to be walking home, so you don't need to take me today."

⠀hajime's heart dropped to the abyss in his stomach.

⠀you were going to what?

⠀he knew exactly what those two were planning on telling you, and he was not having any of it. panic bubbled and almost erupted out in the open, but he saved himself with a deep breath and a plastic smile, nodding his head slowly. "right, i trust them... yeah. you have fun with that." you appeared happy with what he said, giving him a quick hug before walking off. he waited for you to turn the corner before walking off on his own, his jaw clenched and his destination set.

⠀"iwaizumi, where's - " hanamaki was grabbed by the tie as the brunet glared at his former teammate, his eyes anything but nice. "what are you doing? let me go. i'm supposed to be meeting - "

⠀"i know what you're fucking doing," he spat, his grip around makki's uniform only tightening. "this isn't just some random meeting. y/n asked you for this meet up, didn't she? she wants to know stuff, and figured you two would willingly comply." he laughed, more of a mocking volume. "and what do you know, she was right."

⠀"iwaizumi, let me go." the male with pink hued hair snapped more sternly the second time around; hajime hesitated for a few moments before reluctantly releasing his grip on his fellow third year, who pressed his lips together as he fixed his uniform hastily. "you got us," he muttered, his eyes finding iwa's. "she came to us during lunch and kept asking us. you were already on your way back to the table so we simply told her we'd tell her after school. that's all."

⠀"that's all, my fucking ass." pointing an index finger in takahiro's face, hajime shook his head. "you better not tell her about oikawa. she's much better off without that piece of shit in her life."

⠀"but she has a right to know."

⠀iwaizumi's face paled, taking a step back as makki crossed his arms. holy shit, he was serious. he and makki were going to tell you everything. "she's a big girl, iwaizumi. she wants to remember her life before the car accident. i can't imagine what she's going through, having her memories blacked out like that. i know if i was her, i'd want to know every single detail." makki's eyes narrowed. "including the memories that could hurt me."

⠀hajime's hands clenched into fists as he shook his head again in protest, sticking his foot out to prevent the other from walking forward. "over my dead body will i let you do that. the last thing she needs is a reminder of the nightmare he put her through. you won't tell her a fucking word about it."

⠀"or are you just scared you'll lose her to oikawa again?"

⠀just that question was a punch to the stomach as hanamaki observed iwaizumi's reaction. a corner of his lips protruded upwards as he stared at the other male in the hallway, the truth so horribly obvious. "doesn't take an idiot to see how set you are in making y/n fall for you. using her amnesia to your advantage to brainwash her into forgetting oikawa and becoming her new boyfriend... i was on your side at first, iwa. now? you're being just as shitty as he is."

⠀"don't you fucking compare me to him. i'm not like him, and i will never treat her like shit."

⠀"maybe not like shit, but she's certainly more like a prize than an actual person in your eyes."

⠀takahiro watched the frustration boil to hajime's face, taking a deep breath and walking around him before he could be stopped again. "if you excuse me, you made me late. i'm sure y/n will - " he grunted as a sharp pain grabbed hold of his wrist, his eyes widening slightly as hajime seethed at him, jaw clenched and face glowing angrily.

⠀"i said, you're not telling her anything."

⠀"who's going to stop me?"

⠀iwaizumi's smile was anything but pleasant as he pointing towards the school entrance. "mattsun and y/n are waiting for us, right? we shouldn't leave them waiting for too long."

⠀makki's breath hitched in his throat at the realization and cursed to himself quietly, shaking his head as he had no choice but to pull hajime along with him. "your logic is fucked up. y/n is nothing but a trophy for you to show off."

⠀"y/n means more to me than what you could ever hope to understand. keep walking, bastard."

⠀"hajime? what are you doing here?" your face revealed genuine surprise as he had appeared right beside hanamaki, releasing his iron grip on his wrist before exiting aoba johsai. "i thought you were walking home?"

⠀he could see the silent exchange of glances going on between the other two, and he could tell by matsukawa's quiet but exasperated sigh that he understood what was going on. iwaizumi pretended to not notice, however, as he moved to stand next to you. he saw the confusion flickering within your irises, how they were averted towards the ground instead of looking at him. if only he could tell you how important you were to him and why he was acting this way for your own good, maybe you'd understand his side better.

⠀"i figured since i was hungry, i'd join you guys. after all, we all trust each other enough to discuss anything, right?"

a / n : second post today! promised it would come out soon 🥳 ALSO, THANK YOU SM FOR 900 FOLLOWERS !!! it truly means the world to me that you all decide to stick around my profile, i promise i’ll do the best i can to provide content worthy of your attention 🥺❤️

taglist ( closed ) — @ot127 @rena0921 @karlitabi-rrito @psychicpercyjacksonfan @crescentbitch @amelimiles @damnirina @pasta-warlord @blossomingbangtan @clinomanians @i-am-kinda-in-alot-of-fandoms@manq-fandoms @cirtruss @sugar-wara @haikoo @anime-simp @kairostatue @awkwardspontaneity @iwantapoptartqwq @aquariarose @softestdreamer @plantisnotplant @avylee @froppysgirl @that-animebitch @wisepandaslimeland @samanthaa-leanne @dumplingzumispam@0hakaashi @captain-janeway @afterglowkuroo @bellabelieveme @attixca @chickenrest@tycrackculture @ynjimenez @karaseijoh @lavieenblancetnoir @dabilove27 @cuddlesslut @crypto-s @keigosbitch@readeretal @shittykawaa @donghyuckster @adriloen @ella-solei @emiyummy @kukiisan @catyuyuyuu @sillykittt @dolan-mendes @kiritokunuwu @the-third-wall @yammerss @monviemoo

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imagine-loki · 3 years

Text

Threats and Collateral

TITLE: Threats and Collateral CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: One-Shot AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki’s reaction to his SO being brought in to the TVA as a way to control him.

RATING: General Audience NOTES/WARNINGS: None

Loki scowled at the contraption around his neck, limiting his power. Looking around the containment area, there were many creatures and beings with similar around their own necks. Since being captured by the TVA, he had been stripped of his armoured clothes and placed in grotesque and frankly uncomfortable attire and given food that he assumed the palace hounds would turn their noses up at.

He was yet to be spoken to by anyone of notable seniority as to what was the counts of which he was being held. They mentioned him altering the timeline but nothing more. He had to wait until he had a trial to know what was going to happen. Or so he thought.

Loki never liked being manhandled, as most beings tended not to, but being grabbed and forcibly handcuffed made him eye those around him carefully. The guards that did so, did it quickly while another man stood back and watched studiously which brought Loki’s attention to him. There was no manner to age the man in front of him, not with where he was, so there was no telling if he could defeat him or not in hand-to-hand combat, though being handcuffed and collared also was to his disadvantage.

“Follow me.”

That was all the man said before turning to walk towards one of the elevators that dotted the walls of the room Loki was in. He had known better than to attempt to go near one before, the singed clothing and black burns on the floor and the unconscious what he assumed to be corpses of different beings telling him to do so without authorisation was not to be recommended.

Though he did not trust the official of the TVA, Loki knew that whatever they wanted, they had no reason to burn him as they would not be so dim as to do so in such a fashion, ergo, he followed sceptically. Passing through the white line on the floor without being harmed and into the metal contraption to bring him to Norns’ knows where in the building.

“I am Mobius M Mobius and you, are Loki.”

“You heard of me, I’m honoured?” Loki eyed him carefully.

“Do you know where I am taking you?”

“You’re taking me somewhere to kill me.”

“No, I’m taking you some place to talk.”

“Well, I don’t like to talk.”

“But you do like to lie, which you just did. Because we both know you love to talk. Talkie talkie.”

Loki eyed the man with utter disgust at the juvenile and irritating manner in which he spoke.

The elevator came to a halt and the doors opened, bringing the two men to a room bare of all objects bar a table, two chairs on opposite sides of it and some stationary equipment.

Mobius indicated for Loki to sit at one side while he sat on the opposite side. “This is the TVA.”

“I know exactly what this place is.” Loki interrupted. “The Time Keepers have built quiet the circus and I see that the clowns are playing their parts to perfection.” “Big metaphor guy. I love it. It makes you sound smart.” “I am smart.” “I know.” “Okay.”

“Okay.” “What do you want from me?”

Mobius replayed the footage of Loki taking the Tesseract and explained how that was not the original timeline and then showed him what his actual timeline was, the events on Asgard with the Aether and the Dark Elves, him taking the throne under the guise of Odin, Odin’s death, the return of Hela, the destruction of Asgard and finally, the less than comfortable scene were Thanos choked him and snapped his neck in one fell swoop. With an unconscious rubbing of his throat, he looked at the agent across from him. “And you want me to help you because?”

“We need your unique Loki perspective.”

“I don’t believe you.” Loki shook his head slightly. “I don’t think you believe anyone. This Loki variant needs to be fixed.”

“But why is it the Loki variant when those misfit Midgardians clearly are the ones that altered time. How was I supposed to know that what I did was altering time when they were the ones altering it?” Loki pointed out. “The breaking of reality was not my doing, but theirs, have them fix it.” “But you don’t want us to do that, not really. Because if we did that, you would have to be imprisoned indefinitely as you are not the true timeline Loki and you know that you will face a less than pleasant end soon. But if you help us, you get to use all these traits you love so dearly to actually do something and not be destroyed. “ “What happens if I help you and fix all of this, let me guess, you’ll imprison me then?” “No, then you will be offered to stay here and work for us and fix mess after mess for…well, who knows how long. Time works a little differently here.”

“So, I help you, I‘m free to work for you, I don’t help you, I sit in uncomfortable clothes waiting to die of old age, which, if I am correct, may never actually happen here?” Loki checked.

“Something to that effect.” Loki thought over his options. “I am not interested.” “I thought you might say that.” Mobius activated his computer screen and clicked on buttons. With how he was doing it, Loki was suspicious that he was not actually typing anything at all but pretending to do so to try and get Loki to change his mind. But after a few moments, the elevator door behind them rung out and opened.

At first, Loki did not care enough to turn around. He suspected it was either someone to forcibly get him to comply, in which case, the ignoring served its purpose of not acknowledging such or it was guards to bring him to holding once more or to his new prison cell, which again, he did not care to acknowledge. But then, he felt the urge to look, especially when he sensed someone looking at him. When he turned, his eyes widened. “What?” He tried to rise from his seat but was pushed back down by a guard that seemed to just appear beside him. He glared angrily at Mobius. “How?” “We knew there was a high probability you would say no, we really needed you to say yes, so we brought a little incentive here for you,” Mobius explained. “I have studied practically every moment of your life. There is one single being in the universe you will willingly do anything for.” He pointed behind Loki. “Your adoptive parents, your adopted brother, sure, you’ll do stuff for them, when it suits. You used to be far more compliant, but then you grew up and realised your brother mattered more. You killed your biological father but her…you would do anything for her, wouldn’t you?” “No.” Both answered immediately.

Mobius looked at them both as sat back slightly before pointing to Loki. “He’s the better liar.” “I told him not to do anything stupid and he thwarted that coronation and literally did the most stupid thing possible letting go at the Bifrost, so no, he would not do anything for me.” She glared over at Loki who looked at the table shamefully.

“Yes, there’s enough time for domestic arguments at a later point, but we really need to get started on this.” Mobius focused on the matter at hand again.

“Wait, isn’t bringing her here altering the timeline even more so?” Loki pointed out. “I feel as though there’s a significant case of double-standards going on here.”

“It’s not really affecting the timeline because the timeline is already altered,” Mobius explained boredly.

“How could it possibly not be affecting the timeline when having her being here instead of being where she would actually be is affecting the timeline?” “Because she is integral to getting you to fix the timeline,” Mobius argued. “But she was doing something when you took her, now that is not going to get done and that affects the timeline.” Loki countered.

“We need her here to get you to say yes so you fix the timeline you broke, ergo, she fits this timeline.”

“Wait, I am here because Loki broke a timeline so to fix the timeline he broke, we have to break the one I was in?” She clarified.

“I didn’t break it,” Loki explained. “Thor and his Midgardian friends went back in time because they wanted to change the future but I touched something I was not supposed to touch while they were doing that because their attempts to get it went awry because they are idiots, so technically, they broke the timeline and I am being forced to fix it because it apparently my touching the Tesseract goes against TVA rules but them going back in time and altering the whole future does not.”

“By breaking the timeline I was on, which in itself is a breach of these rules?” She asked in disbelief.

“Exactly,” Loki confirmed.

“No,” Mobius stated a mere nanosecond after.

“It seems like it to me.” She looked at Loki for confirmation. “Me too.” Loki concurred.

“Well, it’s not.” Both looked at Mobius sceptically. “So, you help us and everyone is happy.” Mobius clapped his hands together. “So, let’s get you started as an agent.” Mobius pressed a button and Loki fell through a portal in the floor. Mobius rose to his feet and straightened his jacket boredly. “These men will bring you to the guest rooms.” “I think I rather do something while I wait.” “I don’t think so.” “I wasn’t asking.” She gave a smile that said she would not be dissuaded. “This is a big place, I am sure you can find somewhere for me and good luck trying to control him.” She laughed before walking out of the room.

Mobius sighed. “I immediately regret this decision.” He rose to his feet and went into the elevator. After a few minutes, the doors opened to show Loki looking at him in a shirt, tie, jacket and pants. “That better?”

“It will suffice.” Loki walked in and stood next to him.

Mobius remained looking forward as the elevator moved again. “I just need to grab a few things, and we will begin.”

Loki said nothing in response.

Mobius walked out of the elevator and the door remained open until his return a minute later, in entirely different attire and looking almost as though he had showered. He fiddled with his tie as he walked back in.

“I have to say,” Loki stepped towards him and centred his tie as he spoke. “I think it’s adorable that you think you can manipulate me. I am ten steps ahead of you.” “Is that right?” Mobius barely had a hint of curiosity in his voice. “Oh, it is.” Loki sneered. “Nor can she. Though, I am curious, where is she?” “Gone to dictate to whoever is stuck dealing with her.” Mobius looked straight ahead. “She will be fine.” “She had better, or else,” Loki snarled. “Or else what?” Mobius glanced sideways, no emotion in his voice.

“Or else I am going to burn this place to the ground,” Loki swore with a smile.

#Loki #others #submission #god of mischief #submitted fic #threats and collateral #wolfpawn

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neutron-stars-collision · 3 years

Text

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 20 - Love Is Blindness

Masterlist; Chapter 19

Summary: The confrontation by the turnstile brings more tension into the scene. You and Neil have an opportunity to talk but it goes awry...

Warnings: Swearing.

Author’s Notes: So more of that glorious outfit, am I right? (and R here does have some fun with it) And more tension because why not (plot reasons). Ever so slowly we’re getting closer till the end but before we do let’s finish the Estonian chapter. I really hope I did the scene justice... I hope you’ll enjoy! Feedback in every shape and form always welcomed!

The ride to Sator’s compound could not possibly get longer. Or tenser. For some unknown reasons, at least to you, Neil jumped into the same SUV. The lack of space in the cramped vehicle, which was already aggravating previously, got unbearable. Ives gave you the job of checking the route to make sure you were heading in the right direction (and avoiding the police patrols), which you took as a gesture of mercy. At least it meant you had something to stare at that was not the proximity of Neil’s knee next to yours. Still, your brain could not get past the fact that his shoulder, in that bloody navy shirt, was pressed against yours. The touch that normally set your whole being ablaze was now a harsh reminder of the lie you let yourself fall for. He did not love you. What is more, your feelings for him were a mere inconvenience rather than something he treasured. And the pain of that realisation broke your heart into pieces. You were foolish and naive; it was all that could be said. Whenever your thoughts wandered onto that territory, it was hard to hold back tears.

And so, you focused all the field of your attention on the map, giving out directions when needed. The rest of the squad was quiet, as though not knowing how to react to the show you and Neil put on. You could not blame them. After all, they have heard everything and now knew exactly how badly you fucked up. The least you needed at the moment was pity. You managed well to avoid even looking in the direction of Neil. It was as though the right side of your vision did not exist. On a few occasions, you could feel him stealing glances, increasing all the feelings tenfold. But, by far, the worst part of the journey happened near the end of those dreadful fifteen minutes. Just as you have been nearing the destination, Michael made one wrong turn. With the emotions heightened, that was enough to make you lash out:

“Fucking hell! Can’t you tell bloody left from right?” yelling, you met the soldier’s wary gaze in the rear-view mirror.

“I’m sorry” he hissed as though holding back harsher words “Where do I turn now?”

“I don’t fucking know”

Your hands were shaking. The additional strain of making sure you never touched Neil in any way, even passingly, made every move more difficult. And so, when you tried to grab the paper map of the area stashed in the seat back pocket, the tablet cluttered onto the car floor.

“Christ” you seethed to no one in particular and glanced at where the device had fallen.

The perfect spot was right on Neil’s shoes. A place you could not possibly reach without breaking the no-touch rule you have set for yourself. Just brilliant.

“So? Where do we turn?” Michael’s panicked voice broke through the paralysis.

Huffing, you checked the map. But it would not do without knowing your exact location. Fuck.

“One second” grudgingly, you turned your head to the right, doing everything not to lay your eyes on that blonde head.

Or the piercing blue eyes that landed on you. You were terrified of the coldness you could see there. Or worse, the indifference. But before you could dwell on those fears for much longer, Neil did the unexpected. He placed one of the gloved hands on your forearm, stopping any movement you intended. That was enough for you to face him. And feel close to tears again.

“I’ll get it” he leaned down and retrieved the tablet “There you go” placing it in your lap you were shocked by the tenderness of his gestures.

If anything, after that argument, you expected him to never willingly touch you again. But then, supposedly, he was conflicted. Enough. Shaking off the dangerous hopefulness, you muttered:

“Thanks”

After that, you have managed to direct Michael onto the right tracks again. Only when your SUV arrived with a halt in front of the building, you had to face your new reality. Because neither you nor Neil were paramilitaries, you were told to stay at the back and only enter the space after a signal from the team. You have fucked up while exiting the car, stumbling due to the overwhelming tension and nerves. Of course, Neil noticed that, shooting you a worried look. For a moment, you wanted to scream at him, yell, burst into tears or do anything else that could show the extent of what he has done. But that would be humiliating. So you met his gaze with defiance, as though trying to say: I’m bigger than this. Bigger than you.

“Everyone ready?” Ives’ voice brought you back to the moment “On my signal” he extended a hand and then motioned for the squad to begin the action.

You watched as they broke through the door to the compound and dealt with the mercs inside. The building itself was rather mundane, with a fence separating it in half. Inversion technology more than likely. It had access to the port dock as well. After a few audible salves from the rifles and a yell, you got an ‘all clear’, saving you from the awkwardness of being stood next to Neil. Surging forward, eager to enter the building, you got stopped by a strong grip on your arm. You turned sharply only to meet those damned blue eyes looking back at you with determination:

“Let me go in first” not exactly a plea, more a command.

You have never been more grateful for the layers of clothes separating his touch from your skin. Otherwise, you could never find the spark to light the anger once again.

“Neil-” he rushed to interrupt you, but you kept talking, “I know that you’re desperate to make my life a living hell, but believe me when I say that I can handle myself” you shook off the hand still wrapped around your arm “I don’t need you” you threw all the leftover passion and fury into those four words.

For a second, Neil looked shocked. As though your outburst caught him by surprise, and he did not know how to deal with it. But then he scoffed:

“That’s-”

Somehow you knew where he was going with this.

“A lie?” you interrupted him sharply “Maybe” meeting his eyes, you shrugged casually and stormed off into the building.

If he was allowed to lie, so were you. Even if to show him that he had not won.

Could the day get any worse? The moment you marched into the room, you knew the answer to the question. A turnstile, proving window, one side tinted red, the other blue. All too familiar at this point. Space was in disarray after the storming of the building. Instantly you spotted TP, hunched by the wall, as though in shock. Glancing at the other side of the room, you could see a woman in an elegant two-piece suit. Kat, Sator’s wife that Neil told you about. She was collapsed in the chair. The bullet hole in the glass was a giveaway. You flinched. An inverted round was a messy wound to deal with. As you stared, Wheeler and Michael joined Kat on the other side:

“She’s been shot” the female paramilitary shouted to Ives.

“Get her this side” he ordered, looking around the space, collecting information, taking control of the situation “Was she shot with an inverted round?” he asked TP, and you were struck by the look on Ives’ face.

Of course. He has not seen a younger version of his boss before. To him, the man was dead. You shuddered, almost missing the moment when Neil entered the room.

“This is Ives. He’s one of us-” before you could perceive the movement, TP stood up and grabbed Neil’s shirt, pinning him to the wall.

Fuck. Your heart sped up, soaking the tension that instantly permeated the room.

“Us?!” putting Neil in a chokehold, TP spit out the words, “Who are these guys?”

From where you were stood, you could see the utter panic and anguish in Neil’s eyes. This was off the script. TP was not supposed to know and yet you had no clue how else he could be placated. Despite everything that happened in the last hour, you could feel your heart cracking in sympathy for Neil.

“Priya’s. Ours” his voice was hoarse from the grip on his throat.

That answer was as good as any. You were silently praying the boss will accept it, move on, let the farce continue. But then he spotted you, stood on the side. Shit. You knew he recognized you from the way his dark eyes flashed. More confusion, and then anger. Neil’s eyes darted to you too. Panic and desperation.

“What is she doing here?” TPs question made you both snap your attention back to him “You lied about her too”

Somewhere on the periphery of your vision, you could see the squad deal with Kat. Only Ives seemed frozen in the spot, watching the confrontation with wide eyes.

“She’s my... She’s-” Neil’s stuttering made you stare at him in shock.

My? My what?

“Yeah? Who is she?” before you could dwell on it for too long, TP’s cold eyes turned on to you again “Who are you?” the simple question made your blood turn cold.

Sighing, you came up with the only answer possible:

“I’m one of you. Same as Ives and the squad” you meet the gaze of the man in question “Same as Neil” the blue eyes were trained on you with a strange emotion visible.

“So you lied?” you could hear the remorse in TPs voice.

“I had to” shrugging, you smiled sadly, unable to meet his gaze for any longer.

You could hear the breath he let out then. Defeated and disappointed. It hurt, and you could only begin to imagine how did it feel for Neil. But it was not the end…

“How did Sator know about the ambush?” the stronger hostile edge in TPs voice made you flinch.

“Posterity. An ambush on the streets can’t stay out of the record-” the strain in Neil’s voice made you look up again.

You were shocked by the deepening horror in his eyes. This was bad. You wanted to explain everything, all the reasons why you were forced to lie. Forced to depend on half-truths you despised so much. But you could not.

“Bullshit! He knew every move we made! Somebody talked, was it you?!” the accusation was thrown with surgical precision.

Looking at them, seeing the way Neil winced as though he was slapped, you felt faint again. He broke your heart earlier, but this was unimaginable. Slowly, you felt the resolve to hurt him back crack under the pressure of the situation. It was replaced by the wish to touch him again. To give him comfort in any way you could. Even if it would mean absolutely nothing to him.

“No…no” the stuttering in Neil’s answer only increased the feeling.

Christ. Almost unconsciously, you took a step forwards in their direction. This had to end.

“At every stage, you’ve known too much. I’m going to ask you again. Did you talk?” TP kept the chokehold strong, making the blood drain from Neil’s face.

You were close enough to try to grab TP now. But one stern look from Ives made you freeze. He approached them cautiously:

“Nobody talked. They’re running a temporal pincer movement” the reluctance in Ives’s eyes was new.

None of you expected the situation to go this way. Glancing around, you could see the squad help Kat with certain hesitation in their movements. First, you and Neil arguing, and now this. God knows they needed a rest from tension and conflict.

“A what?” the confusion in TPs eyes was palpable.

Only in moments like this did you remember that this was not exactly the man who chatted to you over dinner about the algorithm mere months ago.

“A pincer movement. But not in space, in time. Half his team moves forwards through the event, he monitors them, then attacks from the end, moving backwards. Knowing everything” you could see hints of frustration in Ives’s eyes as he explained the term.

It must have felt strange to go back to the basics with the man wearing the face of one’s boss. And not only the face but also the voice, the mannerisms were all there. Making this TP seem like a clueless stand-in for the original.

“Except where I stashed the plutonium” his statement drew your attention back to the scene.

He seemed to consider his options quickly, with a certain degree of remorse in his eyes, before letting go of Neil.

“Which isn’t really plutonium, is it?” the inquisitive look was focused on the blonde man.

You saw Neil shift nervously, smoothing the wrinkled shirt fabric and taking a deep breath that he has been denied for the past few minutes. You too felt as though a weight has been lifted. At least he wasn’t being choked…

“I told you it’s what he’s after” the conflict visible in the blue eyes made you stare at him longer “And you just told him where it was” Neil was disappointed.

You realised that you nearly forgot about the actual reason for the Tallinn mission. 241, the last part of the algorithm that you could still take hold of. Well, apparently, not. A knot tightened in your stomach.

“I lied”

What?

“Jesus…” Neil swallowed hard, looking across the room at Kat on the stretcher “You lied about it?” the bitterness in his voice made you follow his gaze.

The woman was bleeding out on the gurney, scowling in tremendous pain. Your heart broke for the tenth time. No one deserved agony like that. Let alone an innocent woman, unfortunate to have married a monster. None of this was her fault yet looking at the grim countenance of Henrik you knew that she was likely to die because of it.

“He couldn’t verify from inside the room he’d have shot her anyway. Lying is a standard operating procedure” the matter-of-fact tone of TP’s voice made you stare at him with disbelief.

Surely he couldn’t be serious?

“Standard operating procedure?” Neil muttered, making you look at him again.

For a moment, your eyes met. TP has joined Ives by the stretcher, and in a second, it seemed like it was just you and Neil suspended in the space. You could easily read him now. The pain, conflict, and worry in his eyes made your head spin. None of it made sense. Most of all, the way he gazed back at you hopelessly, as though unable to tear his eyes away. He was not like that familiar stranger that shattered your heart on the Estonian highway an hour ago. But neither was he the man you considered your lover. This was something else, someone unsure of anything in his life. The resolve kept on crumbling, and all you wanted was to know his mind. To understand what was going on.

“It’s spread too far” the grave nature of Henrik’s voice made your frown deepen.

“Meaning what?” seeing the fear in TPs eyes, briefly you wondered about his attachment to the wounded woman.

He cared; that much was obvious. The only question was how much exactly.

“She’s going to die” Ives got straight to the point, increasing the tension in the room.

You wanted to have something to hold on to. But the only hand you could hold was unattainable. His dark countenance, enhanced by the red lights in the room, made the beauty especially striking. It was in moments like this that you remembered why Neil could be seen as intimidating. With the sharp cheekbones, dark irises, and clenched jaw, he was an object of awe.

“Can’t you- can’t you do something?” the panic in the eyes of your boss was a startling wake-up call.

“Can’t you stabilize inverse radiation by inverting the patient?” Neil spoke for the first time in a while, nothing but business.

For some reason, it was almost refreshing to see him back in action. You could only stare, watching the situation unfold.

“That takes days” Ives being the voice of reason, looked at TP sceptically. It did not work.

“Let’s go” your future (?) boss stared at you all with newly found motivation, pointing at the turnstile.

“We took control of this machine minutes ago. Before that, it was Sator’s” Ives sighed heavily, already tired of the situation.

You heard of this way of stabilizing the inverse radiation during training you knew that it would take a while. And there was no way of knowing whether they could be brought back then.

“How long will she live on this side?”

“Three hours, tops” the medic shrugged helplessly.

That was enough to light the fire within TP. His back straightened as he took the control back into his hands.

“I’m taking her through. I’m not going to let her die. I’ll take my chances out there”

“Chances of what? We’ve got no way of bringing you back” the skepticism in Ives’ voice made you smile in sympathy.

While you understood the wish to save Kat no matter the circumstances, it did not look doable. Or wise, for that matter.

“We find another machine” the blind conviction in TPs eyes was almost admirable.

If he only knew… It took you good few weeks to learn the locations of the turnstiles strewn across the globe. Nothing seemed close enough. Or feasible.

“A week ago? Where?” Ives articulated your thoughts with that sarcastic edge to his voice.

That was when you realised. A week ago. Turnstile. The two men with a gurney, running across the tarmac as you stared. The blue eyes that met yours across space. It was so simple.

“Oslo” you blurted out before thinking.

All three pairs of eyes snapped to you. Unconsciously, your gaze flitted over to Neil first. He looked shocked, staring at you intensely, trying to understand. Then it was TP with palpable confusion in his expression, mouth open as though he too was about to mention the Norwegian capital. Ives just looked unbothered as though he was certain you have lost your mind.

“That facility’s impregnable. It’s inside an airport security perimeter” he explained, plain and simple.

Maybe to him. Before you could open your mouth, a familiar cheeky tone pierced the silence:

“Mmmm… Not last week, it wasn’t” glancing at Neil, you saw the famous smirk grace his features.

At least that was still intact, you mused while letting yourself observe him a little longer. He caught your attention with a curt nod. Well done, at least he was impressed. But it seemed like TP was the one who liked your idea best. He gave you a small nod of acknowledgement before addressing everyone:

“We’re going in. You might as well help” that last quip, aimed at Ives, was received with a roll of the eyes and a huff.

All back to normal. Or almost normal, you remembered as Neil passed by you on the way to the stretcher. The signal was clear. The boys were heading back to Oslo, and you wondered whether you could have time to talk. To try and make sense of what happened. On the periphery of attention, you could hear Ives introducing TP to the art of inversion (as you sometimes referred to the technology in the quiet of your mind). Taking your place next to Wheeler by the gurney you soaked in the look of surprise and uncertainty on the face of the boss. This would be his first inversion. You could only hope he will take it better than you did. At the memory of that afternoon in the courtyard, your cheeks warmed up. Your racing heart, Neil pressing your palm against his chest, prolonged eye contact interrupted by the unfortunate agent. Back then, you tried your hardest not to die from shame afterwards, wondering if it has not made you seem a fool in the eyes of the intriguing stranger. Now, knowing how it looked like from his perspective, you wondered whether he did not see it as a mistake.

“Let’s go” Ives’s command threw you out of the grim thoughts.

You helped the squad wheel the gurney into the turnstile, relishing in the familiar motion and sounds. In this whirlwind of a day, something as ‘simple’ as an inversion was almost a relief. This was recognizable. Everything else was not.

Exiting the machine on the other side, you met TPs wild gaze, as he kept on staring at you and then at the proving window, where your future selves were busy getting into the turnstile. You offered him a small sympathetic smile, the only comfort you could think of. As he joined Henrik at Kat’s side, you just watched, wishing you were useful somehow.

“How long does she need?” TP asked.

“4 or 5 days. A week to be sure”

“Figure out how to get us to Oslo” TP met Neil’s gaze “I’ve got to get back out there” you could see the surprise in those blue eyes.

A hand on your arm stopped you from listening to the conversation. It was Wheeler, evidently tired, annoyed, and conflicted. You could suppose that was the general mood among the squad:

“Can you help Henrik with her?” she asked tentatively as though unsure you were fit for the job.

“Yeah, sure” you nodded, glad to be given a task “Frankly speaking, I need something to do” you admitted while dropping your voice.

Wheeler gave you a shoulder squeeze and marched off, trying to get control of the squad. You approached Henrik, offering him your services as a provisional nurse. For the next few minutes, you were relatively at peace, occupied with the task. All you had to do was to pass him the needed instruments, disinfect the wound and make the process of field first-aid as smooth as possible. Despite not knowing Kat, you hoped she would make it. Henrik has assured you that he has seen worse but also that she may need a lot of luck. And that there will be a scar. You vowed to give the woman all the remains of good fortune you had.

The other advantage of the situation was the fact that you did not have to stress over the unfolding developments. From the corner of your eye, you could see Neil talk to TP and then to Ives. The word ‘container’ was mentioned. So that was their way of getting back to Oslo, you mused while passing the surgical suture to the medic. It most likely meant a whole week (or more?) of not only not being able to see Neil but also contacting him in any way. But maybe that was exactly what you needed…

“Wheeler, brief him” Ives walked over to you, looking completely done.

“What’s going on?” you asked while taking off the latex gloves.

You have finished the task. Now it was only a matter of getting Kat changed and the container ready for the weekly stay. You could see the team busily taking hold of the needed equipment and supplies.

“TP is heading out there. No fucking clue as to why” the squad leader answered your question with a shrug.

“I see…” turning around to the centre of the commotion you could see the boss putting on the mask.

Wheeler was giving him a summary of the effects of inversion and how to survive outside. But your gaze settled on Neil, taking hold of the various bits of equipment, lost in the madness of the moment. The ache in your chest was ever so persistent. The only thing you were sure of was that you had to talk to him before they left. Even if it meant another argument. Or definite rejection.

The moment you saw TP step out of the airlock the whole squad let out a breath. At least now, you did not have to watch your every move. All that proceeded was simple. Prepare the container, wheel in cots, food supplies, water bottles, oxygen tanks and masks, protective suits. You were given the job of assembling needed ammunition and artillery in case they ran into trouble. Handling the guns and bullets never felt quite this pleasant.

“Y/N?” Wheeler’s voice made you look up.

“Yeah?” you put down the Glock, looking around quickly.

You have found a secluded spot among the rows of containers. It was ideally placed because from there you did not have to see him all the time.

“You and Neil should talk” she eyed you pointedly.

She did have a point. Since you have exited the turnstile, you only exchanged two sentences. Both of them have been related to the type of gun Neil had on him. And even then, your usual dynamic was nowhere to be found. It was all strained voices, metres of space, and awkwardness that made you want to scream.

“That is assuming he wants to,” you noticed quietly, feeling the nerves come back.

“Maybe he shouldn’t be given a choice…” the implication in her voice made you think.

Tempting, but…

“Should I just go in there and make him talk?” you looked around the corner at the chosen container.

Just as you stared, Neil entered it, carrying some crates.

“You know him best” Wheeler’s comment made you frown.

“After today, I’m not sure I know him at all”

But maybe this was your chance… You hesitated, staring at the metal box, weighing your options. Gathering courage.

“Go. I’ll tell everyone to stay away for as long as it is possible” she whispered into your ear and joined the squad.

“Thanks” you muttered and took a deep breath.

You took off the protective helmet. Some used to dress up for the battle ahead, but you chose to make yourself more vulnerable. Smoothing the hair, you stopped right at the airlock made from foil. It was unzipped, and inside you could see Neil fumbling with some equipment. Suddenly he cursed under his breath as an oxygen tank rolled in your direction. That was the perfect cue. Without announcing your presence, you entered and picked up the cylinder. He turned with a question that died on his lips as soon as he realised it was you. Bloody brilliant. Meeting his intense, gaze you took a step forward, closing the space. Only when you were within reach, you dared to speak:

“Be careful with those” you handed him the tank with a small smile.

“Thanks” was all you got in return, as Neil turned back to whatever he was doing.

From how tense he was, you assumed he expected you to leave. Abandon any foolish ideas you could have had and ideally never speak to him again. Well, tough luck. You observed his chaotical movements for a beat before saying:

“Neil,” he somehow tensed up even more, “I think we should talk” you finished the sentence, studying him curiously.

His back was still turned to you. The hand with which he was trying to attach the tanks to the oxygen masks was shaking. And all because of you. Jesus. As the tears threatened to well up again, he muttered a response:

“I’m busy” it was that constrained voice again.

As though speaking to you was painful. Contrasting that with your recent phone calls, anger flared up within your heart. He owed you an explanation if nothing else.

“No, you’re not” you wrapped your hand around his bicep, ignoring the ache in the heart “Leave it” forcing him to face you “And just look at me” you met his gaze with newly found determination.

The conflict and anguish in his eyes shocked you. You could see him hesitate, fiddling with whatever he could get his hands on. And then he exhaled, defeated. Shifting, he perched on the edge of the cot, seemingly eager to hold that conversation, only…

“We already talked” the darkness in Neil’s eyes reminded you of the hostile face he showed on the highway.

The drastic changes in his behaviour were more than confusing. Glancing down to gather your thoughts, you could feel his gaze on you. Analyzing, examining, almost caressing if it was not for the lack of affection there. He truly was a stranger.

“That... that wasn’t a conversation,” you blurted out and raised your head again

“I hoped that you’ve got enough decency to reject me in plain terms instead of whatever it was back there”

That sentence hit the mark. Neil’s eyes widened, mouth opened and then closed. He seemed paralyzed with the implication of your statement. You were unsure whether that reaction was better than him openly admitting that everything you had was a lie. You took a step closer, awaiting the inevitable. Now you were within an arm’s reach. Just in case.

“I don’t...” he tried and then gave up with a heavy sigh.

I don’t what? It was his turn to stare at the floor. Dragging a hand through the hair, he made the strands stick up. In the yellow light of the container, they looked almost golden. Your hand twitched, wanting to smooth them. You tightened it into a fist. That was not within your rights anymore. You could feel the emotions threatening to overspill at any moment. Forcing all the strength to keep the tears at bay, you spoke:

“I’m afraid you need to be a little clearer. Because what you’re saying and doing doesn’t make any sense” your throat tightened as though acting on its own accord “I’m just tired…” your voice cracked, and you breathed out the rest of the sentence “…of not understanding” a single tear trailed down your cheek.

Fuck. That was it for pretending to be strong. You let out a shaky exhale, trying to stop yourself from crumbling in front of him. When you felt Neil cup your cheek, your heart stammered. You raised your head, glad for the gloves separating his skin from yours. The heartbroken expression in his eyes was too much to take.

“See? This doesn’t make sense” you whispered, encircling his wrist with your hand.

Once your fingers made contact with his bare skin, Neil gasped and shivered. More confusion. Touching his pulse point, you could feel the rapid heartbeat. Suddenly, an idea struck. If words were not working, then maybe… One look at his tired face made you decide. You took another step forward. His knees were touching your thighs now. Your proximity made him look up at you with bewilderment. The feeling only deepened when you took one of his hands in yours and undid the Velcro strap around the wrist. Then with a swift motion, you slid off the glove and placed it next to him on the cot.

“What…” Neil swallowed hard when you brushed your fingers over his knuckles “What are you doing?” the uncertainty in his voice strengthened the conviction.

Maybe he did not love you, but this still meant something.

“I wanted to hold your hand” without waiting for him to respond, you got rid of another glove “And to make you more comfortable” you met his gaze, shrugging.

There was something almost endearing in him at this moment. The blue eyes tinted with confusion, brows furrowed, lips parted. Hair falling into his eyes. The wrinkled shirt and the vest that was undoubtedly your very next target. Finally, the now bared hands folded awkwardly in his lap. You focused your attention on them, taking both palms into yours and tracing the tracks of his veins up the forearms. The goosebumps in the wake of your touch encouraged you to say:

“You were right about some things, you know...” looking into his eyes, you added, “If that means anything to you” you knew he caught on to the meaning because of how his cheeks turned red.

Could that be shame? Surely not. You intertwined your fingers with his, pressing your palms together, reveling in the familiarity of the feeling. It felt like a stolen moment. Something that is about to come crashing down at any moment. And yet, you could not let it go. There was still so much you wanted to do if it was the last time. Neil had no answer for you, however. He was watching you wearily, guarding you from seeing more than he wanted you to. Using his moment of reverie, you released his hands and reached around his waist for the vest straps. That was enough to wake him up.

“What the hell?” the startled blue eyes met yours.

With how close you were, your arms still wound around his waist, touching the buckles, his nose brushed over yours. It was too easy to lean in. Despite everything that he has done, the pull was still there. And so, you gave in, leaving a sweet kiss on his lips, undoing the straps at the same time. He was too shocked to react at first, staring at you. Utterly speechless. Some things never change. You took a half step back, taking out the gun and the radio from the pockets of his vest and then taking off the article itself over Neil’s head. Only once that was done, he spoke:

“Thought you wanted to talk” the spite in his voice was tangible.

And yet, as your brain helpfully noticed, he was not stopping you. He has not pushed you away. Not even now when you allowed yourself to invade his personal space. It was as though in practice, nothing has changed, but at the same time, everything has. You gave him a quick once-over and rested your hands on his knees. Simple intimacy.

“I’m the only one speaking, and I’ve had enough” shrugging, you met his gaze with nonchalance.

Using the newly found dynamic, you slid your hands higher, up the thighs. Feeling the muscles tense in the wake of your touch. There was something strange in his eyes. A hint of the passionate darkness you were used to but tainted with apprehension. And boundless struggle.

“But… why this?” he raised his hands helplessly “I’m really not in the mood” Neil looked at you sternly.

Fair enough. Lifting your palms from where they rested on his thighs, you put them on his shoulders instead. Smoothing the wrinkles in the shirt, toying with the collar. Something in his eyes shifted. The sudden softness made the pain in your chest worse. The words you tried to swallow got stuck in your throat. It was as though after this mess of a day you could no longer pretend. Not when you were alone with Neil. Not when he was looking at you as though you could be the solution to every trouble in his universe. And you had no clue why.

“As I said... you were right” you smiled nervously before confessing, “I want you”

It was simple enough to say. Suppose when one has nothing to lose, it doesn’t matter anymore. Neil’s reaction to your admission was to be put on the long list of confusing things he did. He leaned forwards and pressed his forehead against yours. Breath ghosting your lips as he asked:

“… why are you saying this now?” the hesitancy in his voice only made the feeling stronger.

You knew that there was no question of ending this moment without confessing too much. He broke your heart with ease, but he was your everything. And those feelings were hard to ignore. You met his eyes without holding anything back and touched the tie delicately.

“Suppose I’ve lost my mind” was as good an explanation as any “Can I?” you asked for permission while loosening the knot.

“Might as well” Neil nodded, and you took off the tie, placing it along with the rest of the garments.

Then you undid the first two buttons, letting your fingertips ghost over his neck and shadow of the collarbone visible underneath the material. Neil sighed and put his hand on your waist, keeping you in place. Nothing made sense anymore. It was as though after the drama of the highway and the confrontation with TP, he did not know what he wanted. You still mattered to him. But that did not explain the things he said. Or the sudden switches in his behaviour when he seemed so distant and cold. At once, you wanted to shake him, to demand answers, and to keep on touching him, exploring the familiar angles and letting yourself get lost in the moment.

“This break might do us good” he broke the silence, making you look up.

Straight into the blue eyes that always sucked you in. It was not different this time. Another confession was on the tip of your tongue. This time there was no passion to blame it on. Nothing stopping you from jumping off that cliff and falling to demise. Just you and him, bathed in the yellow light of the container. Too close for people who had nothing keeping them together.

“If you say so” you muttered and took a deep breath “Neil, I-”

“No, don’t you dare” he interrupted you harshly before letting go.

A breach. But it was nothing. Only the more reason to say it. If truly everything was beyond saving, then why not? After all, it was there. Before he could stop you again, you spoke:

“I know that you don’t want me to… but, I love you”

It was like ripping off the band-aid – sharply, with no hesitation and dealing with the ghost of pain afterward. Neil looked as though you punched him. Fuck. You knew it was a mistake, but his answer was certainly not what you expected.

“Christ… you’ve really lost it” he sighed before looking at you calculatedly “All that talking about how much those words mean to you and now-” you dropped your hands from his shoulders and slapped him across the face.

Why? Maybe hoping it will wake him. Make him admit what you once believed to be obvious. But it was all a lie. The pain was almost unbearable. The mess of thoughts and feelings making you sway as you stared at Neil. He gazed back, for once completely stunned. That was enough to find the needed words.

“And now I wasted them on the wrong person? Yes, I’m aware” you let out a bitter laugh, feeling the situation dawn on you.

You confessed the truth without anything influencing the choice, and he turned it back on you. You were the stupid one. Guilty of falling for the wrong person once again. Sentenced to live through the heartbreak while Neil would walk free, unbothered. His heart was intact, guarded heavily against the inconvenience of your love.

“It’s not what I meant” Neil’s words broke through your thoughts.

He stood up, defensive and shaken. As though he had the right. The anger burning through your veins made you advance on him again, closing the distance until there was barely half a meter of space between your bodies.

“What then?” you looked up at him, spitting the words in his face “What did you mean?”

“I… don’t know” the restraint in his eyes made you furious.

“Fuck’s sake…” cursing, you placed a hand on his chest over the heart, feeling the rapid beat.

You have had enough. Acting on the most primal of instincts, you crashed your lips into his. Fueled by the anger and desperation, you started kissing him hungrily. He did not belong to you, but you were willing to show him the extent of your recklessness. Tugging at the lower lip, you groaned into his mouth, feeling him tense up beneath your palms. Just when you were sure he was going to push you away, Neil’s hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush against him. He opened his lips, letting you deepen the kiss and allowing your tongues to begin the dance. You were furious, upset, and careless. That was enough to give you the courage you have never had before. Biting down on his lower lip, you felt Neil pull you even closer as though he wanted you to melt into him. You tugged sharply on his shirt collar, forcing him to bow down ever so slightly. Tangling the free hand in his hair, you drew out a moan. It only got louder as you burst the blood vessel, piercing the thin skin on his lip. The coppery taste tainted the kiss, waking up a stronger desire. You wanted all of him. Everything at once. Sucking on the split skin, drawing blood from the cut, your soul was set alight with the need for Neil. He gasped when you licked over the damage done and leaned back. His wild, dark gaze was the only sign needed to continue. You pushed him back until his legs hit the cot, and he was forced to sit down. Entirely at your mercy.

Undoing another two buttons on his shirt, you kissed him again. His hands traveled to your hips, pulling you even closer to stand between his spread legs. Breaking the contact after a long, slow kiss, you assessed your work. Messed up hair, swollen lips tinged with blood, eyes hazed with want. Not yours. Ignoring the growing ache in your chest, you kissed the sharp edge of his jaw, sucking on the skin, making him shudder. Then your lips moved south, exploring all of his neck and throat. Making sure not to leave a mark this time but still hoping Neil will understand. His hands roamed across your body, unable to find anything uncovered in the protective suit. A frustrated whine he let out when your teeth grazed over his collarbone made you stop and look at him. Seeing despair in his eyes, the breath caught in your throat. How could he not feel anything back? Swallowing the panic, you ran your hands over his chest, feeling different muscles beneath the material. Then you let your palms settle on his sides, just above the belt, and you picked up the exploration, lightly biting the skin near his pulse point. In response, Neil shivered and pulled you closer, bucking his hips into yours almost uncontrollably. You wanted him to do it again, to feel something. Anything. Even just that pure want that had nothing to do with love. You captured his lips, everything but tender and slow. It was chaotic, breathless, carnal in how you did everything to get a reaction. And it worked. Neil broke the kiss, gasping for breath, leaning his head on your shoulder.

“Christ…” he breathed out, hands secured onto your waist.

Nudging your nose with his as a means of a break, you spoke:

“If you want me to stop, tell me, and I will” you met his eyes with certainty.

Then, not letting a single precious moment go wasted, you kissed his temple. Leaving butterfly touches on the cheekbones and over the eyelids, ending with a gentle nibble of the earlobe.

“N-no” the tenderness made Neil stutter, increasing the deluge of affection in your heart.

You realised that if he asked, you were ready to give him everything. No matter the fact that he did not feel the same. You were his, and that was unchangeable. At least for the foreseeable future. With the infatuation burning through every single cell in your body, you kissed the skin beneath his ear, getting lost in the sounds he let out. If he was unwilling to give you anything else, you had to take what was there. Even if it meant nothing. As though Neil was reading your mind, he made you stop, squeezing the hand that was stroking his chest. You met his gaze cautiously:

“I can’t say it back” Neil whispered as though ashamed to admit it “Not like this”

But you knew. It was nothing new. Shaking your head slightly, you gave him the best smile you could muster.

“I know you don’t love me” placing hands on his shoulders, you noticed the denial in his eyes “But it doesn’t change anything” you shrugged and closed the distance again, “I’m still here” the last word was placed on his lips ardently.

He responded with a kiss, bringing you closer with one hand tangled in your hair. The familiarity of the moment and the terrifying implications of it all were both responsible for the tears that started falling then. The salty undertone of the next kiss was more than appropriate. Lost in the moment, neither of you noticed the footsteps:

“I’m sorry, but it’s time” Wheeler’s voice made you stumble a step away.

Blushing, you met her gaze across space. You were sure she saw enough to understand how the conversation went. Hurriedly, you brushed the tears away, acutely aware of the other pair of eyes fixed on you.

“What happened?” Neil’s hoarse voice broke the silence.

“They set his car on fire. He’s in hypothermia” you inhaled sharply at the news “You should get going” with that, Wheeler left.

For the last time, you glanced at Neil. The perfectly ruffled golden hair, flushed cheeks, dark intense gaze, partly unbuttoned shirt, hands idly folded in his lap. The object of your utmost desire and love. Beautiful, elusive, like a masterpiece that is meant to be admired but never owned. There was nothing left to say. Nodding formally, you picked up the helmet and left before the pain could get any worse.

*** There was not much time to think, as TP and Kat were packed into the container. You were busy checking everything was ready for their journey until the very last moment. When Neil zipped up the foil and motioned for Ives to close the outside door, you felt the sting of tears. That was it. And you did not even say goodbye.

The feeling got worse when Ives turned to you then, digging something out of his pocket. Without a word, he placed a set of keys on your palm:

“What’s this?”

“Neil told me to give it to you. In case he couldn’t come back with us” the leader shrugged “Before all this” he added upon your inquisitive glare.

“Right” you swallowed, feeling worse than ever.

“They’re for his London apartment. I suppose he wanted you to have them” he walked off, leaving you with the problematic set clasped in your fist.

Brilliant.

#tenet #neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet imagine #neil tenet fanfic #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #the art of inversion #gifs not mine

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