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duuhrayliegh · 3 years

Text

A Friend of Yours - pt. 2

pairing: bucky x reader

summary: reader meets up with Bucky, Sam and Zemo to figure out this Flag Smasher drama

word count: 6386

warnings: canon lvl violence? SPOILERS FOR TFATWS, (it’s the episodes with yn in it, like rlly) language throughout the whole thing, i think that’s it.

a/n: i’m actually really proud of this guys. there is a part three that has WAY more Bucky x YN content that’ll be posted in a few days <3 i hope y’all love this!!

i just want to remind y’all that this started out as a request from @dramaticwittch it won’t let me tag you for some reasons babes :((

be sure to read A Friend of Yours - pt 1

A Friend of Yours - pt. 3 is up too!!!

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

check out my other writing here!

xoxo ray <3

You had the same contacts as Sharon, so finding the Three Musketeers was no problem. It baffled you that Sharon had access to satellites. Makes you wonder what she was doing during those five years you were gone. When you got to their safehouse, you were impressed to say the least. It was nice, cute little pillars next to the dining area, some couches, just enough to make it livable. One thing that struck you as strange was that it was also empty, they weren’t there.

“Fuck it.” You dropped your bag onto the dining table and walked over to the kitchen area. You opened several cabinets, searching for alcohol that you could drown your frustrations in. You found an unopened wine bottle, releasing a little cheer, you popped the cork and brought the bottle to your nose. A sweet plum scent invaded your senses, grabbing a glass and pouring it full for yourself before re-corking the bottle. You grasped the cup walking to the stained glass windows on the opposite side of the room. You could hear footsteps approaching the doorway, then the door being forced open. Muffled conversations were taking place during their entrance.

“Well, I got nothin’. No one’s talkin’ about Donya.” Bucky said as he waltzed into the room. Sam followed closely behind him, Zemo immediately going to the kitchen.

“Yeah, Karli’s the only one who’s fighting for them.” You said, startling the pair of men who were now lounging on the couches. “Aren’t you supposed to be good at this?” You dropped next to Bucky, offering him a sip of your plum flavored wine.

“She’s not wrong.” Bucky shot Sam a look, questioning his thought process. “Look, for five years these people were welcomed into countries that have kept them out using barbed wire. There were houses and jobs.” Sam sighed, “Folks were happy to have people around to help them rebuild.” You stopped listening halfway through Sam’s speech, thinking of Sharon. You only refocused when Bucky placed his metal hand on your knee, giving you a look, asking if you were okay.

“That little girl. What’d she tell you?” Bucky asked after you nodded at him. His face never left yours, until Zemo approached the three of you on the couch. He was holding a tray with a clear teapot and cups. He placed it on the coffee table, stepping back and clutching a cup for himself.

“The funeral is this afternoon.” Zemo was always one for the dramatics, so you’re sure that he had something else up his sleeve. Bucky squeezed your knee and you knew he was trying to calm himself.

“You know the Dora’s coming for you any minute. In fact, they’re probably lurking outside right now. Keep talking.”

“Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli.” He made a noise of acknowledgement, “I prefer to keep my leverage.” Bucky hauled himself off the couch to stand in front of the Baron. You gaze flicked to Sam’s, unsure of what Bucky was going to do. Bucky puffed his chest out, clenching his jaw as he gripped Zemo’s teacup and chunked it at the concrete wall behind him. Zemo flinched as Bucky began talking to him.

“You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?” Sam stood quickly, trying to diffuse the situation before it escalated.

“Take it easy, Buck. Don’t engage him.” You were taking a drink of your wine, as you observed Zemo’s actions.

“Watch out, he’s going to extort you and do that idiotic head tilt thing.” Zemo’s eyes darted to your figure on the couch as he straightened his head. Sam left to make a call, you assumed Sharon and Bucky followed closely behind him. Zemo offered you cherry blossom tea to which you declined by holding up your wine glass. As Bucky left the room, the Baron released a sigh of relief causing you to laugh at his actions.

“You’re really scared of him, aren’t you?” You teased the man who was now glaring at you.

“If you have made him as angry as I have then you would be too.” You shrugged your agreement. You hadn’t made Bucky mad, and you definitely hadn’t been a part of reactivating him as the Winter Soldier to reach your goals.

“Yeah, well you’re a dumbass, so.” You got up and walked to where Bucky and Sam were gathered. Sam’s phone was still pressed to his ear, but you could tell you were catching the tail-end of his conversation. You could hear Sharon’s voice over the phone talking about the Power Broker. In all your years of living and conducting business in Madripoor, you never tangled with the Power Broker. That didn’t mean anything, it was just suspicious because of how successful your operation with Sharon was.

“What’s the plan?” You asked, dumping the rest of your wine in the sink, casting a glance at an appalled Zemo. “It was shit wine.”

“Zemo has a contact that can show us where the funeral is, and that’s all we got.” You nodded before looking at Bucky and Sam.

“Well, what are we waiting for?”

**********************************

You were walking down the cobblestone roadway with the Three Musketeers when a voice shouted at you from the stairway before you. “Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit!” A scruffy looking man approached you. Both him and his partner were clad in tactical gear, the scruffy one’s resembling a Walmart version of Steve’s Cap suit. Bucky spread his arms out.

“How’d you find us now?” The man’s partner responded to Bucky with equal annoyance.

“Come on, man. You really think two Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?” As he got closer you could read Hoskins on his vest.

“No more keeping us in the dark.” Scruff said before anyone else could fire back. He stopped walking in front of Zemo, effectively stopping your forward motion. “You can start by telling us why you broke him out of prison.” You were walking just behind Bucky to his right and you watched him cock his head back, his voice taking on a sarcastic tone.

“He did that himself, technically.” Scruff’s face contorted as Bucky talked.

“This better be an unbelievable explana--” Scruff’s voice was cut off by Sam’s hand bumping into his chest.

“Hey, take it easy before it gets weird.” Zemo began talking over the group around him, explaining what was going on. You remained quiet, observing the interaction between Scruff and the Three Musketeers. Clearly, the Three Musketeers did not like him and so you assumed he was the ‘new Cap,’ whatever that means. The group began walking again with Zemo leading the pack.

“Alright good, we’ll move in fast. Take her by surprise.”

“No, I wanna talk to her alone.”

“I’m not losing her again.” Scruff was insistent but so was Sam.

“Look, the person closest to her just died, she’s vulnerable.” The group had stopped walking again, focusing on the conversation. You could see the wheels turning in Hoskin’s head as Sam spoke. Scruff was not having any part of what Sam was suggesting.

“What? No. Wait, no! No. Stop. Hold on. Stop, okay?” Scruff ran ahead in front of the others, stopping the forward motion, once again. “I think we’re way past reasoning with her, unless you forgot the fact that she blew up a building with people still in it.” This was news to you, deciding to stay offline in hopes of remaining under the radar. The back and forth continued until Scruff turned to Bucky.

“You gonna let him do this?” Bucky tilted his head at the man. “Are you gonna let your partner walk into a room with a Super Soldier alone?”

“He’s dealt with worse. And he’s not my partner.” You knew Bucky was referring to himself in Winter Soldier mode. Your heart hurt for him to have to go through this again with some clueless nobody.

“And last I checked, he’s a grown ass man who makes his own decisions, Scruff.” Your arms crossed over your chest. This had been the first time you spoke since Scruff and Hoskin’s had arrived.

“Who the hell is this?” Scruff pointed at you. “You break her out of prison too?” Sam interjected before you could sass back.

“I used to counsel soldiers dealing with trauma, okay? This is right in my wheelhouse.” Scruff’s gaze hadn’t left your face. He continued staring at you as he countered Sam’s claim.

“Yeah, I know. And I know those soldiers, which is why I know this is a bad idea.” Hoskin’s hand came up to rest on Scruff’s shoulder.

“Wait, John. If he can talk her down, it might be worth a try.” Scruff was not happy with Hoskin's agreement to the situation. Scruff said something to Zemo, who mostly ignored him, acknowledging the little girl waiting under an archway. The group began moving toward her and you focused on Bucky.

“Hey, you okay?” He just nodded at you, denying you the pleasure of a verbal response. You’ll take what you can get. Bringing up the rear of the group, you entered the factory type building last. The little girl pointed up some stairs, and Zemo translated. Sam walked up behind the girl, making him way up the stairs as Scruff handcuffed Zemo to a metal contraption.

“You got ten minutes. Then we’re doing things my way.” Scruff yelled after Sam, who darted his eyes at you and Bucky, a silent instruction to the both of you. Scruff rested his weight against a table, holding Steve’s shield in front of him. His breathing became increasingly worrisome, an ode to how stable he was in the moment.

“You aren’t looking so hot over there, Scruff.” Bucky shot you a warning look, but it didn’t deter you. “The government is really harping on you to get this shit contained, aren’t they?” Scruff pushed off the table, bringing the shield around his back. You were leaning against a pillar near Zemo and Scruff made his way over to you. His face was about six inches from yours as he spoke.

“Do you know who I am?” He was trying to intimidate you, which clearly wasn’t working.

“Do I look like I give a shit?” Scruff’s eyes darted over your frame, a look of recognition washing over his features.

“I know who you are.” He glanced at the clock across the room before looking back at you. “I could arrest you right now. Enemy of the State, standing before me right here.”

“We’re not in that state, dumbass. Technically, you don’t have jurisdiction.” The corner of your mouth raised in a smirk as Bucky called your name. You pushed off the pillar behind you to stand next to Bucky, who was leaning against the railing of the stairs.

“Don’t antagonize him, Y/N.” Bucky berated you, to which you shrugged a shoulder. Scruff began pacing back and forth, frustration getting the better of him.

“It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight.” Hoskin’s tried to calm Scruff down.

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.” He shot a look at Hoskins, then the clock, then Bucky, making a decision in his head. “I’m goin’ in.” Bucky rose to his full height, not allowing Scruff to get by him. “This is all really easy for you, isn’t it? All that serum runnin’ through your veins.” You watched Bucky’s jaw clench, you could see the anger bottling up. “Barnes, your partner needs backup in there.” Bucky was an immovable fortress of solitude. “Do you really want his blood on your hands?” Oh shit.

You watched as Bucky’s resolve faded, allowing Scruff to step around him. Bucky was tired of being the cause of other people’s deaths. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust that Sam could take care of himself, he just didn’t want the burden any longer. He was finally free of being a murder machine, finally able to rinse his hands clean. Scruff knew just which buttons to push to get what he wanted.

Scruff busted into the memorial site, guns blazing. You trailed behind Bucky who was fighting against Hoskin’s to try to reach Scruff. Karli and Sam were previously engaged in peaceful conversation, until Scruff announced that Karli was under arrest. Betrayal laced her features as she looked at Sam, defending herself against Scruff advances. She threw Scruff’s weight into Sam, launching them both into the table behind. Bucky took off after her, chasing her through the halls. You crouched next to Sam, making sure he was okay.

Sam recovered quickly, racing down a different corridor leading to another stairway. You followed close behind, allowing Sam to attempt to navigate the area around you. The two of you eventually went down enough of the wrong corridors, that you met up with an equally confused Bucky. You head perked up at the sound of gunshots somewhere in the building. Not sure who the culprit was you turned to Bucky and Sam, who looked just as panicked.

The three of you retraced your steps to find Scruff standing over a knocked-out Zemo with crushed vials wetting the floor. Scruff tossed a glance back at Hoskins and then one to the three of you on the staircase landing. “What did we miss?” Sam directed his question at Scruff, who didn’t dignify him with an answer. Scruff nodded to Hoskins before walking away from the rest of you.

“Thanks for your help, asshole!” You shouted after him.

*******************************

Hauling Zemo’s deadweight back to the safehouse was a job that you and Sam decided Bucky was fit for, being a super soldier and all. Through much complaining and whining on Bucky’s part, he did get him to the safehouse relatively injury free, dumping his body on the couch, jostling Zemo just enough to wake him up. Bucky promptly left the apartment after dropping Zemo off, going to clear his head was the explanation you got as he left.

You huffed, discontent with everything that was going on. You walked to the kitchen, wetting a rag and tossing it at Zemo. “For your head, cover your eyes, it’ll help.” You then popped a few cubes of ice in a glass and poured whiskey over it, handing it to Zemo as well, tapping your temple at him. You went back to the kitchen, jumping onto the counter, letting your legs dangle over the edge. Sam had pulled out a laptop and was typing furiously.

“Were you ever offered it?” You knew Zemo wasn’t talking to you, but to Sam, who hadn’t looked up from the laptop screen. You zoned out of their conversation, trying to decide what Sam was sending Sharon now. “Sam, you can’t hold out hope for Karli.” This made Sam pause and turn to face Zemo, who continued talking. “No matter what you saw in her, she’s gone. And we cannot allow that she and her acolytes become yet another faction of gods amongst real people.” Zemo removed the rag from his eyes, locking gazes with Sam. “Super Soldiers cannot be allowed to exist.”

“Isn’t that how god’s talk?” You interjected, then you asked quietly, “And if that’s how you feel, what about Bucky?” It was a valid concern. “Blood isn’t always the solution.” Bucky waltzed into the apartment, stripping his jacket from his shoulders, giving a perfect view of his two contrasting arms.

“Something’s not right about Walker.”

“You don’t say.” Sam quipped, closing his laptop and facing Bucky.

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one. Because I am crazy.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“Shouldn’t have given him the shield.” Bucky jabbed at Sam, sticking to his guns on this.

“I didn’t give him the shield.” Sam was exasperated in his delivery.

“Well, Steve definitely didn’t.” You turned to Bucky.

“Hey. Back off, Buck.” Bucky was going to say something in reply when the door burst open again. In walked Scruff and Hoskins, all gung-ho about something.

“Alright. That’s it. Let’s go.” He pointed a finger at a now standing Zemo. The whole room began shifting, Sam in front of Scruff, Zemo to the side out of direct view, and Bucky to your other side, glass in hand. “I’m now ordering you to turn him over.” Sam stopped before Scruff, annoyed.

“Let’s be clear, shield or no shield, the only thing you’re runnin’ in here is your mouth.” You added from your spot on the countertop. Scruff pointed his finger at you.

“And I’m taking her too.” Bucky stepped in front of you, blocking Scruff’s view of you. You placed your hand on his left shoulder, letting him know you were still there.

“I had Karli and you overstepped. He’s actually proven himself useful today. We’re gonna need all hands on deck for whatever’s comin’ next.” Scruff puffed out his chest, attempting to intimidate Sam.

“How do you want this conversation to go Sam, huh?” He stepped back slightly, “Should I put down the shield? Make it fair?” Taking on a condescending tone with Sam, making your brows raise. Suddenly a spear lodged itself in the pillar next to Scruff’s face, all eyes darted towards the woman across the room. Two more warriors walked in, holding spears by their sides and Bucky looked resigned. This was new territory for you, who the fuck are these people? One of the women stepped forward near Scruff. She spoke at Bucky in a language that sounded vaguely familiar to you.

“Release him to us now.” Scruff ignored her instruction, deciding to step towards her, holding his hand out for her to shake.

“Hi. John Walker. Captain America.” You scoffed loudly.

“No, you’re not!” You received a look from Sam at your comment.

“Let’s put down the pointy sticks and we can talk through this, huh?” Sam stepped forward, warning Scruff against tangling with the Dora Milaje.

“The Dora Milaje don’t have jurisdiction here.”

“The Dora Milaje have jurisdiction wherever the Dora Milaje find themselves to be.” Your hand balled into a fist, quickly covering your mouth.

“That’s a burn, Scruff!” You yelled like the little shit you are.

“Y/N! Cut it out.” Sam snapped. Scruff, for some reason, thought it was a good idea to place hands on the Dora he was speaking to. She quickly brought her spear up to force his hand off her shoulder, then bringing it downward into the back of his knee and finally bouncing it off of the front of his helmet. She launched her foot into his chest while he was dazed, sending him backward into the spear behind him and face planting on the ground below. Scruff recovered quickly, sliding his arm into the straps of the shield to protect himself from the spear coming at his body.

The three warriors began fighting with Scruff and Hoskins, much to yours and Bucky’s delight. Sam backed up to stand next to Bucky, who crossed his arms over his chest. Sam looked at Bucky.

“We should do something.” You had just barely heard Sam say it when you and Bucky yelled at the same time.

“Looking strong, John!” “You’re doing great, sweetie!” Bucky gave you a look at your term of endearment, not understanding that it was a patronizing use of the word. The warrior battling Scruff was about to drive her spear into him, until Bucky gripped the handle, stopping her attack.

“Ayo!” Bucky yelled at her. “Ayo! Let’s talk about this!” Ayo had effectively yanked Bucky towards her body, then throwing him backwards. Sam stopped another warriors spear before it drove into a downed Hoskins. The last warrior threw her spear at Scruff, trapping the shield against the table. She began her approach to him and Sam yelled your name to help him.

You got down with a groan, unhappy that you had to save this asshat. All movement was stopped when you heard a metallic thud against the floor. Your head snapped to a now one armed Bucky, his vibranium arm laying on the ground. You released an audible gasp as Ayo walked away from Bucky, his blue eyes wide. Everything around you faded as you watched a broken Bucky, kneel to pick up his metal appendage. Your eyes flicked to Sam, who was just as shocked as you.

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam gestured to Bucky’s immobile arm.

“No.” He swung his arm around once to restart the systems. You heard Hoskins checking on Scruff’s wounded ego, but that didn’t matter to you.

“Bucky. Are you okay?” He avoided your question, grabbing his jacket and telling Sam that Zemo had gotten away. You held your arms out in front of you, what the fuck? Are you the enemy now? You followed after them, not sure where you were going. You got closer to Bucky, grabbing his left arm and yanking him back to you, making his attention be on you for a second or two. “I’m talking to you, dickwad.” His eyes hardened as you continued. “I don’t know what the fuck just happened back there, I’m assuming that has to do with you not being the Soldier anymore. I don’t really care. What I care about is if you’re okay or not.” You stopped walking, still holding his arm.

“What do you want from me, Y/N?” Bucky inquired.

“I want you to fucking talk to me. I’m here for you to unload on.” His brows scrunched and you realized what you said. “Oh my god, not like that, sicko. Well, I mean--”

“Y/N.” Bucky smiled at your humor.

“There, see? How hard was it for you to smile. Just talk to me. I’m making sure you’re okay. Don’t shut down, I hate it when people do that.” Bucky went to say something else when the both of your attentions shifted to a concerned Sam.

“She said what?” A pause, “Right. Hold on, hold on. I know, I know.” He sighed loudly, “Listen, pack an overnight bag and take the boys.” He tried to calm the other person down. You began walking again, Bucky asking quietly.

“What happened?” Sam dropped the phone to his collarbone.

“Karli called Sarah. She threatened my nephews.” Bringing it back up to his ear, he continued. “Go somewhere safe. Only pay cash, alright? Let me know when you get there.” You turned your attention to your surroundings. The bland streets offered little to no security, but they did give too many vantage points to count. “She wants me to come alone.”

“I’m coming with you.” Bucky fired back, not changing his mind about this one.

“Yay, more friends. She’ll love that. Where we going now?”

*********************************************

You’ve never seen Sam as mad as he was when he walked into that building. Although you weren’t sure if it was anger or if it was betrayal that he was displaying as he climbed the stairs to the second floor. “You called my sister? That’s how we’re gonna play this?”

“Sam, I would never hurt her. I just wanted to understand you better.” Her accent shone through with every word. You could tell that she didn’t want to hurt you. Her demeanor was relaxed, her guard was up, but she was being civil, almost like a politician. You were good at analyzing the people around you, so when Karli mentioned Sam and Bucky just being tools she really meant it. She wasn’t interested in hurting people she deemed innocent.

“Hey, Sam, new Cap is moving, looks like he’s found them, or maybe they found him.” Sharon’s voice snapped you back to reality. The two of you hadn’t spoken since you left Madripoor.

“Scruff’s coming, guys and you know it’s not going to be pretty when he does.” Bucky jumped over the ledge and Karli followed suit. Jumping into Bucky, slamming his body into the post. You ran alongside Bucky to the location Sam had sent to your phone. By the time that you had gotten to the building where Scruff was, you had lost Bucky. Taking an entrance that was already knocked open you heard gunshots from a few floors above you. With your gun raised, you scanned the room for any friendlies.

“Y/N, you’re about to come up on Hoskins. He’s not moving, may need an assist.” Your brows furrowed as you entered the room cautiously.

“How the hell do you know that, Shar? How did you get access to satellites?” You questioned as you approached a tied-up Hoskins. “Need some help, Battlestar?”

“I totally had that.” He said as your knife snapped the zip tie around his wrists.

“Yeah, yeah.” You held your hand out, hauling him to his feet. “It’s okay to be the damsel, ya know?” He shook his head at you, not engaging in your hilarious banter. “Jeez, who pissed in your Cheerios.” You shoved your knife back into your thigh holster, leading the way to where the others were.

When you walked in, Bucky had just caught a knife that Scruff had so deflected. He twirled the object in his right hand, ready to defend against the Flag Smasher attacking him. Their fight was quick and ended with the Smasher on their back, the knife Bucky was holding embedded in the floor inches away from their face. You jumped in, helping Sam fend off another Smasher when suddenly Bucky’s fist flew by your face.

“You’re welcome.” He darted off to deal with the others. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Scruff being held by a Smasher and Karli coming with a knife in hand. You started towards her to stop her, until you saw Hoskins attack from her other side. He tackled her to the ground, Karli bounced back quicker than Hoskins, allowing her to throw a punch at Hoskins. Your jaw dropped as you watched his body fly into the concrete mainstay behind him. His whole body slackened and Karli stood in shock.

Scruff was struggling in his captors hold, thrashing about to get to Hoskins. Once he was free, he shook Hoskins and pushed his fingers against his neck, checking for a pulse. “Hey, hey. Hey. Lemar!” You stood silent in between Bucky and Sam, unsure of what to do. It wasn’t until Scruff stood again that you knew what he was going to do. He had a half-second head start, but it was long enough that he was able to reach the Samsher that was holding him back before you could reach Scruff.

You had to push through the crowd to see what was happening. The Smasher had his hands protecting his face against the slam of the Captain America shield that was being hammered into him. You gasped and had to turn your face into Bucky’s shoulder. This is not happening, but it was.

And the whole world saw it too.

***********************************

The next time you saw Scruff was in an abandoned warehouse. He was talking to himself, yelling about different things. If you weren’t sure before, you definitely were now. John Walker had taken the serum and it was enhancing all the wrong things. Scruff was kneeling, resting his hands on the bloodied shield before him. You were on Sam’s right when Scruff walked up to you.

“You guys should see a medic. You don’t look too good.” He paced in front of the three of you. “You saw what happened. You know what I had to do. I killed him because I had to! He killed Lemar!”

“He didn’t kill Lemar, John.” Bucky’s voice remained calm. “Don’t go down that road. Believe me, it doesn’t end well.” Scruff sent Bucky a disgusted look.

“I’m not like you.”

“You convincing yourself or us, Scruff?” You recognize that this probably isn’t the time to pull his strings but he wasn’t thinking clearly anyway.

“Listen, it was the heat of battle. Okay? If you explain what happened, they may consider your record. We don’t want anyone else to get hurt.” Scruff never stopped pacing, his hand flexing in the shield.

“You gotta give Sam the shield, Scruff.” He stopped pacing and turned to you, getting a little close for comfort.

“Oh, so that’s what this is.” He leaned forward, “You almost got me.” His index finger jabbed into your chest then rested there as he spoke. “You don’t wanna do this.”

“Yeah, we do.” Came Bucky’s reply before all hell broke loose. Bucky and Sam rushed Scruff, fighting for a way to get the shield from him. Scruff sent Sam flying backwards with a swift kick to the stomach. This gave you the room you needed to launch yourself onto his shoulders, attempting to flip him using his own body weight and your momentum. Your move distracted him enough that Bucky got a few decent hits in, but it really just served to piss him off further. He whipped one arm around, gripping the waistband of your jeans and dumping your weight off his shoulders. He threw you into a wooden shipping container, knocking all of the air out of your lungs.

You watch, as you lay there gasping, Bucky get beat to his knees by Scruff and Scruff’s attention is turned by Sam flipping in the air, kicking the shield to the side. You rose to your feet, readying yourself for the opportune moment. Once you found it, you flung yourself at Scruff, sending the both of you to the ground and the shield away from the both of you. You resituated yourself to straddle his stomach, this position didn’t last long because he flipped the both of you. Slamming your back against the ground, he gripped your wrists, yanking them way up high causing you to groan out at the stretch. He released you but not before delivering a swift punch to your cheek.

Your vision blurred, but you could make out Bucky going head to head with Scruff again. Scruff threw the shield at Bucky after kicking him into a lift. Luckily, Bucky was able to catch the shield and shift it to his own arm before Scruff attacked him again. Scruff pressed the shield tight against Bucky’s body, then began speaking to him.

“Why are you making me do this?” You and Sam shared a look then watched as Scruff tossed Bucky clear across the room into an electrical outlet, short circuiting his arm. Sam flew at Scruff, trying to catch him off guard. He was unsuccessful in his efforts, ending with Sam facing Scruff as you crouched in Scruff’s six.

“This isn’t you, John.” Sam began trying to reason with him. He is who is way past reasoning, not Karli. Scruff’s head tilted as he spoke in that condescending tone again.

“We could’ve been a team.” Sam didn’t say anything. He deployed his wings, flying past Scruff and sending a small grappling hook to try and take the shield. Scruff flipped through the air, then braced himself against one of the lifts. You came up from behind him and tackled him off the lift, sending Sam to the ground as well. As you landed, you hit your head on a piece of broken concrete, disorienting you. The shield was out of Scruff’s hands, and he wasn’t happy about that. They both dove for the shield but Scruff managed to get to Sam first, landing on top of Sam.

“I am Captain America.” Scruff grunted out as he ripped Sam’s wings from his suit. You watch in horror as Scruff holds the shield, ready to give Sam a face lift. Bucky knocked Scruff off just before he could land his hit. Scruff had pinned Bucky to the ground after driving Bucky’s head into the side of the shield. You hauled yourself to your feet again, wrapping your arm around Scruff’s neck, hindering his movement. Sam came from the front, delivering a harsh blow to Scruff’s face. You continued to hold your chokehold as Bucky and Sam pried the shield off his arm. You heard a sickening crack as Sam withdrew from the hoe down. Bucky rose to his feet and spit out the blood collecting in his mouth, reaching out his hand for you to take.

You walked over to Sam, you hoped that would be the end of it all. Lo and behold though, Scruff got up yet again. “It’s mine.” He growled possessively, starting towards Bucky again. Bucky ducked lifting Scruff over his shoulder and Sam threw his whole body weight into Scruff who was dangling off to the side of Bucky. The three of them laid on the floor, bloodied and sweaty as you stood over them.

Bucky rose to his knees, the shield in front of him and he used the leverage of it to stand fully. He dropped it next to Sam, pausing for a few seconds and then walking away completely. You stood next to Scruff, in disbelief. “This just got a whole lot more complicated didn’t it, Sam?” He didn’t reply to you, but you watched as he tried to wipe the blood off the outer rings of the shield.

***********************************

You stood outside the building where Donya’s funeral was held, listening to Sam talk to someone else named Torres. Bucky had walked right past you, not a word said. He was shutting down and running away, at least that’s what it looked like. You wouldn’t know because the whore wouldn’t talk to you. You sat down on the stairs, head in your hands frustrated about what was going on. Your phone began buzzing in your pocket, so you took it out ready to deny the call, until you saw who it was.

“Shar.” You sighed into the phone speaker.

“Y/N. How’s it going?” You could hear the smugness lacing her tone.

“Alright, just get it over with. Tell me that you told me so, just make it quick.” She scoffed.

“I mean, I did tell you so, but now I don’t want to tell you that I did.” You laughed at her.

“You realize you just did, though?” You sense that she was smiling.

“What happened?” Her tone switched into a serious one on a dime.

“Walker took the serum, went batshit, killed a Flag Smasher, and then beat the shit out of Sam, Bucky and me in order to keep his precious shield because he ‘is Captain America.’” Your voice morphed to imitate Scruff.

“Well, that was bound to happen sometime. He’s all over the place.” You nodded, pulling the phone away from your ear and switching to speakerphone so you could talk and scroll through Twitter.

“He’s already trending. Captain America Kills Innocent Man, what a great headline. You know the worst part about all of this, Shar?” You switched the speakerphone off, bringing it back to your ear. “I don’t even think that Karli is in the wrong here. She’s doing what she’s doing for good reason, she’s just doing a shit job of getting her point across.”

“Yeah, well she’s becoming a pain in everyone’s asses, so that puts her on everyone’s shit list.” Sharon took a deep breath before continuing. “You need to get out of there. I know you’re not technically in the States, or alive, but you know how the government is. They’ll find a way to get you, if they want you.” She was lecturing you out of love, you knew, but it was frustrating for you still.

“Can you not trust that I know what I’m doing?” A grunt released from her end of the phone. “No, seriously Shar. We grew up the same, went through all the same training, what makes you know so much better than me?” Deep down, you knew that wasn’t what she meant, but you had always felt second best when it came to Sharon.

“It’s not that you don’t know what you’re doing.” She sighed heavily. “It’s that you were gone for five years and things have changed. Governments have become stricter and you don’t understand that they aren’t the same as they were.” You remained quiet, expecting her to say something else. “That’s why it’s good you have me because I know how they work.”

“You know how they work, do you?” You were fed up with her. “Then explain to me how you have access to satellites, Sharon. That’s not something that you just happen upon.” Your tone was accusatory. “Are you working for the Power Broker behind my back?” You heard a sharp intake of air on her end. “I swear to God, Sharon. We promised each other we wouldn’t work for that asswipe. He’s involved in too much bad shit. If the US government were to ever find out that we were working for the Power Broker, they wouldn’t grant us pardons, Shar. Did you fuck this up for us?”

“I didn’t fuck anything up and you need to check your tone when you’re talking to me.” Your brows shot to your hairline.

“The fuck did you just say to me?”

“You heard me. We need to work this shit out. I didn’t fuck anything up and neither will you if you come back to Madripoor right now.” You were shocked, Sharon had never talked like this to you.

“I really don’t think I would be comfortable being somewhere that I’m clearly not welcome anymore, so I’m going to stick with what I know.” Sharon began backtracking as you resigned yourself to being on your own for the first time in forever. “Goodbye, Sharon.” You ended the call and shoved your phone into the pocket of your jeans.

You dropped your head into your hands in defeat. Being on your own was daunting and you weren’t sure how Sharon survived without you well enough to grow your business all on her own. You tried to think of your next move, deciding that sticking with Sam would be your best bet. He’s the easiest to guess where he’s going since Bucky has been mentally MIA towards you.

You recalled Sam mentioning his sister and nephews, thinking he would go there to check on them. You hauled yourself out of your slump and to Zemo’s apartment to collect your things before going. You were going all in if you were going to do this, so why the fuck not?

*************************

@londonalozzy @marvelofwitch @dramaticwittch @hellmoonsin @jn-wolf @youcancallmeishita @iabrokengirl @veroxloki @liveloudwriteloud @lainternettuale @angelofthetrenchcoats @rosiahills22 @peachymichu @sj-ficrecs @learisa @itsyagirl01 @simply-me-xoxo @ghoststudyy @taina-eny @japanrecs @sinfulhun-collapsedheart @isaordora @shutupstevie @sprsoldierfics @beachbabe925

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slipping-through-my-fingertips · 3 years

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If Glee did a Taylor Swift Tribute Episode...

Just my opinions, feel free to add on to them. I know I have some fellow gleek swifties following me. I’d love to hear your thoughts. Obviously they have to do some of the hits but I think some people would have some out of the box picks.

*This post assumes all Taylor songs are available to choose from as of May 14th 2021 but focuses on Taylor’s first 6 albums (if you want more glee and Taylor I have fics with that; LOVER and FOLKLORE) and takes liberties with where this episode’s placement is in terms of canon. But since it’s all made up anyway who cares (but Blaine’s involved so I guess season 3 idk).*

Okay, trying to do a full plot here (completely inspired by @kurtdeservesbetter head canon posts. I hope this lives up to her fabulous posts). This will be my version of glee so everyone gets solos and Rachel can’t hog the spotlight. Also, this is about to be super long (both post wise and episode wise).

Let’s open the first episode with

...Ready For It because the New Directions are in their reputation era. Santana does the opening cough centerstage. Everyone in black and/or camo green outfits (can you just see Kurt in a dark green bedazzled snake jacket, Santana in a black leather dress, and Tina digging out some goth clothes for people to borrow?), snakes everywhere, but probably no Karyn (she just wouldn’t fit on the auditorium stage). Santana takes the first verse but we have Blaine step up for verse 2. (I just love their friendship in the Michael tribute, cute little badasses are BACK. Also him singing “Burton to this Taylor” is such a Klaine thing to do).

Everyone is still dressed in their rep outfits but we’re in the choir room now. Mr. Schue is talking about why Taylor had to disappear and clap back with rep, how rough the industry is for women and tries to uplift the ladies in the room and encourage them to not silence their voices (cue snarky comment from Santana about Rachel needing to be silent).

Then, Mr. Schue goes on about how you can only understand how Taylor got to her rep era by studying her earlier music. So we have a performance of Tim McGraw. Simple, front of the choir room performance, maybe Puck does guitar, and sitting on stools.

Everyone is surprised to find out how pumped Sam is for this assignment but he is all over it. “It's about time we did some country in this room.” Cue Sam and Quinn at her locker talking about their ‘date’ last night, Sam’s all cute and teasing and Quinn is not into it. She tells him it was fun but she was wrong, they shouldn’t do this again. In turn, he does a wonderful performance of Bye Bye Baby. He thought it was more but clearly he’s “a part of her past.”

Then, we’re in the empty choir room. Tina and Mike are there. (I love their cutesy duets) They sing Everything Has Changed and it’s utterly adorable. Can’t you hear Mike asking Tina if she’s “good to go” like Ed does? And while we’re on the subject of cute duets and RED, we flash to the courtyard to see Santana and Brittany. They turn Stay Stay Stay into a duet. “I’ve been loving you for quite some time,” “before you I only dated self-indulgent takers who took all their problems out on me,” “no one else is gonna love me when I’m mad, mad, mad,” and “it’s occurring to me that I’d like to hang out with you for my whole life” it’s perfect for them. Adorable ladies kisses are had.

Let’s toss in some boy drama for fun. Idk shit about football but somehow Puck is praised by their coach over Finn, which gets him all pissy, and Puck’s upset and jealous because Finn is back with Quinn now (this is why Quinn shut Sam now earlier, she changed her mind). Can we say duet of Bad Blood? “So if you’re coming my way...just don’t.”

After their dramatics, we have a Brittany solo in the choir room. It’s after school at this point (or whenever glee club is). Brittany does You’ll Always Find You Way Back Home.

When she finishes Mr. Schue tries to explain that it’s a Hannah Montana song. Britt injects that it’s confusing how she’s really Miley Cryus “like how can you be two people at once?”. Before Mr. Schue can continue, Kurt pipes up “you never specified that the songs had to be sung by Taylor Swift, just that they were her songs.” Mercedes adds, “yeah, Mr. Schue, Taylor wrote that song.” Mr. Schue concedes that he has once again been outwitted by Kurtcedes. The friends do their little hand shake thing.

With a sigh, Mr. Schue asks Mike if he’s ready to go and Mike asks to take things to the auditorium for some dancing room. Everyone’s on stage with him and it’s kind of a group number but Mike is the focus. It’s Shake It Off. All inspired by the music video. He’s tried to fit in elsewhere (i.e. football, with the smart kids, etc..) but he’s really himself in glee when he’s dancing.

Part 2 of Taylor Tribute Episodes

We begin with an ALL GIRL NUMBER of A Place In This World. Just because.

Glee is dismissed and we zoom in on Artie. He’s watching Tina with Mike and Brittany with Santana. Both Tina and Britt have broken his heart by this point. So, he’s rolling down the halls singing A Perfectly Good Heart. While Artie’s soloing, we cut to Rachel watching Finn and Quinn chatting. Artie’s song playing over this scene. Rachel is feeling similar to him at the moment.

She’s pretty sure Finn dumped her to be with Quinn again even though Kurt and Blaine told her they saw Quinn and Sam at the movies last night together making out in the back row. Fine, if that’s how he’s going to be, she doesn’t need him anyway. Cue Mr. Perfectly Fine. Uber dramatic solo performance walking around McKinley’s halls watching Finn and Quinn together ending in the auditorium alone. (see what I did there, both broken hearted peeps singing a song with Perfectly in it (this was not at all planned, actually, happy accident))

After some good old heartbreak, we have Kurt and Blaine on screen. Blaine walks into the auditorium to see Kurt sitting on the edge of the stage. “What’s all the fuss?” he asks from the door. Kurt had texted him “EMERGENCY.” The band starts to play and Kurt just starts singing, Enchanted. It’s time to profess their love for each other, just like they sing Perfect together in the car, this duet needs no audience. Blaine catches up and sings while walking towards his boyfriend. It’s very reminiscent of past New Directions competitions where they come in from the back and make their way to the stage. “Wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you?” Kurt and Blaine both know the answer to that question now but just a few months ago they were both wondering that exact thing.

They kiss before we cut to Kurt and Blaine walking hand in hand into the choir room where everyone else is already. Mr. Schue is praising the performances thus far and of course asks Rachel if she’s ready to solo (some practice for her completion solo). This causes an uproar from Mercedes and Santana. Another classic argument of how she gets too many solos. Mr. Schue tries to shut them both down but Santana tells Rachel to watch her back, and we get three very different reactions to this.

All three girls storm out.

First, we visit Mercedes alone in the courtyard. This solo is all about being hurt over this great thing in her life (glee) and her being denied happiness within that club. Thus, Cold As You. (mostly to indulge myself because she’d blow us away with this song).

Next, Rachel in the auditorium. A huge bridge on stage (very Speak Now Tour of her), belting out Better Than Revenge. Santana’s dropped the last straw (the humiliation, name calling, Finn at one point and now solos,) it’s too much this time.

And finally, Santana walking around McKinley, showing us flashes of Rachel ‘outshining’ her and the rest of glee and Mr. Schue being unfair, while singing Look What You Made Me Do.

Tina walks out at the same time as Rachel, Mercedes, and Santana but no one seems to put two and two together. She feels just as underutilized as the latter two do. She ends up in an empty classroom and sings The Outside. “Nobody ever lets me in” and “on the outside looking in.”

Once the 3, err 4, divas have left the room, Finn sticks up for Rachel. Quinn, of course, has something to say about this along the lines of “you always defend her.” Finn, intimated by her ‘scary Quinn’ fumbles and blurts “because she’s my girlfriend” WHICH IS NOT TRUE AT THIS POINT. Quinn dumps him on the spot, cuts quickly to Blaine and Kurt sharing some ‘oh my god, can you believe this’ expressions, and vanishes from the room.

By this point, Rachel is long gone from the auditorium but the bridge is still there.

Here’s where we go way off script but imagine, Quinn has decided to just quit boys. They’ve all failed her anyway, she’s better off being alone. She walks up the bridge and thinks to herself “god Rachel’s so dramatic, where did this thing even come from” before it hits her “fuck, I’m as bad as Finn. I want her.” Then, she starts singing Clean to herself in the auditorium, likely tearing up throughout and ending with a good cry. (Because Dianna would DELIVER with Clean.)

While Quinn is having a sexuality crisis, the rest of glee is still happening. They’re discussing upcoming competition and debating solos and songs.

Kurt’s all: “Mr. Schue, if I may” and performs a lovely rendition of Call It What You Want. Those opening lines are too good. “My castle (ie McKinley) crumbled overnight, brought a knife to a gun fight (ie couldn’t fight off Dave Karofsky), “I’m doing better than I ever was ‘cause my baby’s fit like a daydream,” and “at least I did one thing right.” When he’s done, Blaine’s a mess in the back of the choir room, and Mr. Schue says: “not really what we’re looking for but very nice, Kurt” however, Kurt’s too busy sitting beside Blaine teasing him about blushing.

Then, the missing girls return to the room having sung out their emotions. Quinn, having realized her feelings for Rachel, ends up soloing You Belong With Me to the New Directions in the choir room. Odd looks all around, no one knows what’s up with her and why does she keep glancing at Rachel? (Faberry just fit so well I had to add it, don’t know if I’m a shipper or not but it’s here now) (also thanks to @spicygemini for pointing out the obvious “Quinn would have ate YBWY”).

Mr. Schue wants to move the group to the audition to perform their final number of the Taylor Swift tribute well but Tina asks to sing first. He’s surprised but allows it, taking a seat with the rest of the New Directions.

Tina sings Beautiful Ghosts. “Watch from the dark, wait for my life to start” because New Directions is refusing to use her talents AGAIN. She’s singing this to Rachel and the girls who were in the Treble Tones. Because she absolutely SMASHES this number, the glee kids agree she gets solo for their next competition (and they deliver on that promise).

To conclude Part 2 of the Taylor tribute episode, we have a group performance of Long Live. “One day we will be remembered”, “all the years we stood there on the sidelines wishing for right now”, “for a moment a band of thrives in ripped up jeans got to rule the world” ie wining completions, “when they look at the pictures please tell them my name...”

#this took so long please enjoy it #Taylor tribute glee episode #glee head canon #gleek swifie #glee #taylor swift

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haloud · 3 years

Text

things we could burn in one go (eminence) -- chapter 10

also on ao3

Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Isabel Evans & Max Evans & Michael Guerin, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes, Forrest Long/Alex Manes Additional Tags: post-s2, Canon Compliant, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Starts Forlex Ends Malex, Other Characters May Appear, Tags Subject to Update, Mutual Pining, Breaking Up, Getting Together

Chapter Summary: Alex and Forrest struggle to understand each other in the wake of their breakup; Alex makes a shocking discovery at the Long farm.

Excerpt:

The corner of Forrest’s mouth twitched, as did one eyebrow, and his stance softened slightly. “No serenade? No boombox? No diamonds? There goes that fantasy.”

It was true; Alex had come here empty-handed, the way he brought himself to every step of their relationship. All the things he had inside him, all the things he had to give, he’d failed to deliver any of them in a way that Forrest needed. He’d made do with illusions, convincing ones, convincing enough to fool even himself into thinking he was built any other way than this. He was a problem-solver, a provider; it was bitter medicine to learn that brute-forcing himself into the proper shape for someone else only hurt everyone involved.

Alex ducked his head with an infinitesimal smile of his own. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Forrest shook his head. “Honestly, I’m just kind of surprised you’re even here. I thought I’d be waiting until I decided to come to you. And shouldn’t you be at work right now?”

“I took a half day,” Alex replied. He’d taken tomorrow off as well to prepare for their planning session, but Forrest didn’t need to know that. “I didn’t want to make either of us wait. Not for this.”

(Wednesday, 14:00)

The Long family home was leagues from the old barn and the fallen tree, but an odd sort of almost-nostalgia sloshed in Alex’s stomach as he approached the house all the same. He had only been back here a few times since he and Forrest met; it wasn’t a part of their relationship; it was more convenient to spend their time at Alex’s, where there was no one to bother them. When they spent the night together, it was in Alex’s bed, and the sex they had was there too, unless Forrest knew for sure Wyatt was gone and not coming back. That thought only made it stranger, how Alex had never quite gotten used to sharing his space with him, sharing a bed, sharing a life. For the thousandth time he wondered what was wrong with him, but he took a deep breath and cut that feeling loose and let it float away. What good was a question with no answer to him now? It was a search he’d never finish, and he would have to learn to live with it.

It felt wrong to leave something before it was finished. To turn his back on a piece of himself before examining every inch of it under the light, to cut loose a string without following it to its end and seeing where it led. But to force it would only make things worse, and he’d done enough of that already.

By the time Alex parked, shut off his car, and gathered his willpower to approach the house, the door was open, and Forrest was waiting for him on the porch. He looked…great. Normal. He’d touched up his hair; his eyes were well-rested and sharp; his fingers and neck dripped with jewelry, and Alex could recognize the look for the armor it was. His own leather jacket was a solid weight across his shoulders.

“Hey,” he said with an awkward wave.

The corner of Forrest’s mouth twitched, as did one eyebrow, and his stance softened slightly. “No serenade? No boombox? No diamonds? There goes that fantasy.”

Alex ducked his head with an infinitesimal smile of his own. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Forrest shook his head. “Honestly, I’m just kind of surprised you’re even here. I thought I’d be waiting until I decided to come to you. And shouldn’t you be at work right now?”

Forrest just snorted and moved aside, sitting in a rocking chair and nudging the one beside it with his foot. “Well, let’s get this over with.”

Sitting, they were silent for a while, the world peaceful around them—birds chirping, sun shining, the whole nine yards. Alex watched a small lizard creep across the dirt below the porch railing until it disappeared beneath the house.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have told you about Michael. That wasn’t fair, and I’m sorry for how I acted and the things I said.”

He swallowed, grimaced, almost, the words juvenile and inadequate to his own ears.

“About Michael staying with you, or…about Michael,” Forrest replied, guarded.

“The first one. Well—both, as it turns out. I thought…I guess it doesn’t matter what I thought. I’m sorry for not telling you that Michael was staying over; that was shitty, I knew the whole time it was shitty, and I did it anyway because I didn’t want to fight. But at the same time, I had no idea you were worried about, well, me cheating on you.”

Sighing, Forrest said, “I told you, man. Unfinished business. It’s kind of visible from space. Before this, I wouldn’t even have thought I was a jealous person, can you believe that? I should have said something to you, but I thought I could just power through it.”

“I guess we both learned things about ourselves,” Alex said wryly. “I didn’t think I had anything to hide, but when it came time to say something about Michael to you, I just clammed up. Would I have felt that way if it was Kyle staying over? Probably not. But I wasn’t thinking about it like that.”

“Huh.” Forrest paused. He rocked his chair slowly forward and back, hands folded on his stomach.

“Did I act weird? Shifty, like I was hiding something?” Alex asked, awkward and vulnerable, embarrassed at how poorly he knew himself, how poorly he knew how he should have acted to not even know that much.

“No, not really. Well, you were pretty distant, but,” he shrugged, “there’s nothing wrong with needing space. It was just…you know, you sang that song at the Pony when we got together, and I had an inkling it was about Guerin, but for some reason I thought I could handle it. Dating a guy who was in love with someone else, who was trying to move on. But it didn’t work like that, huh.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex repeated weakly. “I really thought I was ready. I didn’t mean to lie to you; mostly I was lying to myself. But I know it doesn’t make it any better.”

“Can I ask you a question? Point blank?”

“Um, sure. Go ahead.”

“Were you cheating on me with Guerin?”

“No.” That, at least, he could say firm and clear.

Forrest took a deep breath, dropped his eyes, then looked out across the desert. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I believe you.”

Briefly, Alex had to push down the urge to lash out defensively like he had during their previous fight. Had he really done so much to deserve that scrutiny while they were together?

“Thank you,” he said, not sure of what else needed to be.

“I appreciate you coming here and being honest. I mean…it still kind of stings for things to end this way, but. I do appreciate it. And, well, I’m sorry too.”

“For what?”

“Showing up and exploding like that without giving you some warning. I mean, I’m kind of not sorry it brought things to a head in the end, but it was still rude.”

“No, I should’ve—”

Forrest held up a hand to stall Alex. “No, seriously, dude. The martyr act is cute, but I’m a big boy. Your house is covered in cameras, and you need like two weeks of warning for a coffee date; I knew better than to think showing up like that would be a cute surprise.”

“Oh. Um.” Alex floundered for a way to respond to that. He felt seen, pinned under the lamp of an insight he hadn’t known Forrest had. It was itchy.

“Um, thanks. For the apology. And I get what you mean, about being sorry it happened but not sorry that…well. I really am sorry it ended this way.” If not that it was ending at all.

“Are you?” Forrest raised an eyebrow. “You’re a free agent now. I half-expect Guerin to send me flowers by Saturday.”

Alex winced. But still, he said, “Okay, that’s fair. We kind of, um…”

Forrest let out an ugly snort. “You know, most people double check after a fight like that. Damn, I’m glad I was already planning on breaking up with you for good if you hadn’t gotten the message.”

“I…I know. The way it happened, it just…” Alex sighed and raked his hand through his hair. “I won’t make excuses. You have every right to be mad.”

“I am mad. And hurt,” Forrest said matter-of-factly. “But maybe not as much as I thought I’d be, once the shock cooled off.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Yeah.” A smile flickered on Forrest’s mouth, and he shrugged. “Looking back on it, it kind of feels like we’d been forcing it for a while, huh.”

Alex matched him hesitant smile for hesitant smile. Between them there were stacks of stilted conversations and unmade plans, awkward mornings and missed connections. From the morning Fields barged into Alex’s life to the moment he thought he saw his brother at the airport, in the past few weeks there were a number of times Alex had found himself unable to reach out across a gap and meet Forrest there. He’d thought it was just something wrong with him; it was an unbelievable relief to find that Forrest felt the same.

“You might be right,” he confessed.

“Yeah, I think I am,” Forrest sighed. “Damn. That’s probably why my head went straight to cheating.”

“You don’t have to find a way to even that scale,” Alex replied, shaking his head. “I was wrong; I won’t back down from that. But Michael aside, I never wanted to hurt you, Forrest. And I’m sorry I did.”

Forrest chewed on his lip, an old nervous habit. He had a pinprick scar just there, a souvenir from a piercing he’d grown out of, and when Alex would kiss him there, he’d smile. Alex was walking away from this with warm memories, sweet new patterns in the weaving of his life, unexpected treasures. And that in itself was something to cherish, no matter how much their relationship faded into history.

“Yeah, well, same here.”

“You didn’t hurt me, now you’re the one trying to even the scale—” Alex protested.

Forrest cut him off. “I like you, Alex, and I liked our jam sessions, and you made my time in Roswell suck so much less than I thought it would. But there’s a universe where we’re sitting on opposite ends of this, because my book is way more almost done than I’d let on to you just yet, so. Thanks for being such an almost-two-timing emotionally constipated jerk so when I tell my friends this story five years from now I can totally get all the sympathy.”

Alex let out a surprised snort that turned into laughter, and Forrest joined him, if a little more subdued than he’d normally be.

When they collected themselves, Forrest wiped some wetness away from his eyes and said, “Seriously, though, Alex, I hope he makes you happy. Because I don’t think we did that for each other, in the long run.”

“I hope that for you, too, Forrest,” Alex replied softly. “You deserve someone way less fucked up than me.”

“Nah, cut that crap out. We’re all a little bit fucked up.”

“I guess that’s true.”

“It is true. You, me, whoever I date next. My old granny,” he said with the first true smile of the afternoon. “And Guerin, too.”

His smile dropped as quickly as it had appeared, and he leaned forward, reaching out and putting his hand on Alex’s knee; Alex almost shied away, but he forced himself to stay still.

“I just want to make sure,” Forrest said, voice gentle—a gentleness Alex didn’t trust. His composure broke, and he drew back, the slight movement causing Forrest to drop his hand. He continued, “Guerin…he’s what you want? Truly, this is what you want?”

“Yes,” Alex snapped, no hesitation.

“Okay. Just, if you’re sure. If this is really your choice.”

Alex’s patience ripped clean in two. “I know the two of you spent some time together at the library,” he said, voice level and deliberate, “but from what I can tell, you don’t know him at all, so spare me this paternalism, okay? I can make my own choices. Whatever assumptions you’re making—”

“Okay! Okay.” Forrest held his hands up in surrender, but it did nothing to cool Alex’s temper. “I just had to ask.”

“Well, there’s your answer.”

“Noted.”

Alex stood stiffly, and Forrest followed just a second behind. They stood and stared at each other for a few seconds, Alex waiting for him to make a move, Forrest waiting for something Alex couldn’t figure.

Then Forrest stuck out his hand. In the same motion, Alex half-turned, made himself sideways, a smaller target, flowing out of the path if that hand continued forward in a blow. But no, it stayed still halfway between them. Forrest didn’t comment on his reaction. Alex reached out and shook his hand.

“I’ll see you around sometime,” Forrest said. His smile crinkled up the corners of his eyes.

“Take care of yourself, Forrest,” Alex replied.

He left the Long farm the same way he came, down the same dirt road, down the same path in his head, with the same almost-nostalgia. Leaving looked a hundred different ways, and he’d been a hundred different times, but this time the scenery was new, and he was ready to be home.

(15:00)

A lot of work went into making Alex’s house a home.

When he moved from the Valenti cabin closer to town, it was out of necessity, even if it took him a long time to admit it. It was a victory over his own stubbornness and solitude and maladaptive independence, a concession to comfort that surprised even himself. It made his life better. He was closer to work; he was closer to his friends; he had an accessible bathroom, and something he’d considered so small before helped him along a journey he’d barely acknowledged toward accepting and appreciating the body he lived in now. But changing environments wasn’t easy for him. He’d had to put a year’s worth of care into finding the perfect location and fitting the house there to be someplace he could feel secure without complete solitude for miles around him, between the cameras and the vantage point of the patio and the orientation of his bedroom within the house and just everything from top to bottom. He’d fought hard. He won.

And then he came home from breaking up with his ex-boyfriend to find a strange car in his driveway.

Well, not entirely strange. He’d seen it once before. But when he saw it, it was from the vantage point of his own front door, not from the outside.

The car had room to park in the driveway because Michael’s truck was gone, and that was the only mercy Alex knew as he parked in the street and unholstered his gun. Michael wasn’t here; he was safe with Isobel or Max or Sanders or someone—someone who wasn’t Alex, who thought he had a safe space, a space to protect Michael, but in the end had nothing at all. The house hadn’t been empty since Michael’s injury, but now that he was on the mend, it was at times. Michael was alone at times.

Was this the first time Fields had come by? What was stopping her from returning with backup and taking Michael away?

Gun in one hand, phone in the other, there was one defensive maneuver on Alex’s mind before he confronted his enemy.

Michael answered quickly, though every second felt like an eternity as Alex watched Fields watch him, face expressionless, body language placid in her place between him and his own front door.

“Alex—” His voice came through, so light and happy it stole the breath from Alex’s chest. He was okay. He wasn’t shoved in the back of a van, chained and muffled and senseless, his truck abandoned in a ditch somewhere in the desert.

He didn’t let him finish. “Thank God. Where are you, Michael? Are you okay?”

Worry stole the light from Michael’s tone, but Alex could beat himself up for causing that later. “Alex? I’m fine, I’m at the Pony, what’s wrong—”

Alex repeated, “Thank god. Don’t come home, do you hear me? Do not come back to the house until I give you the all clear. Stay with Max and Maria.”

“What? No!”

Alex hung up on him and stowed his phone before leaving the car and crossing the street.

“Captain!” Fields said cheerfully from one of his patio chairs. Her eyes flicked down and clocked Alex’s weapon held at his side, but her demeanor didn’t change.

“What is this about? Get off my property,” Alex almost snarled.

“Sure, Captain. Your call.”

She stood, adjusted her skirt, and pulled her phone from her pocket. It couldn’t have rung more than once before she said, all lightness gone from her tone, “Get me Sgt. Manes.”

Cold clarity broke over Alex’s head and trickled through his veins. His arms snapped up and locked into place, gun pointed directly at Fields, unwavering.

“Hang up,” he ordered.

“You’re in control here,” she replied. “I’ve given you all the time in the world, and now I’m giving you more.” She angled her phone away from her face so he could hear the tinny hold music blaring from the speaker. “If you’re going to keep avoiding me, I’m going to call someone in who has answers and gets results. Or are you prepared to do that for me?”

The music measured the seconds as Alex considered his options, mind apart from motionless body. Project Shepherd, the source of so much pain, so many nightmares. He still didn’t really know what Fields wanted from him, except to continue his father’s work.

But he didn’t have to do that, did he? Put him at the helm of the Project, and he could quietly shut it down from the inside, erase it from existence, reduce it down to nothing. Euthanasia of a legacy.

In a perfect world, if Alex were a perfect man, he would. The path was paved with solid golden intention—but the end of it was hazy. How many times had Alex seen a stranger in the mirror and known he needed to get away from the military to find himself again behind his father’s shadow, and how many times had he made a different decision? How could he be sure this time would be different, that he wouldn’t find reason after reason that Project Shepherd was a necessary evil, that with himself heading it, he was keeping his loved ones safe, working for the greater good, even if they didn’t understand—all in the same uniform of generations, the uniform Michael could barely look at?

So, then, the other choice. Walk away. Let Fields call in Flint or promote some other career man to do what they would, set their traps, work in secret for the eradication of a threat that might never come at the expense of everything Alex held dear. No control, no insight, how many times would he have to fear the ultimate loss, Michael, dead, Maria, dead, their loved ones, dead, their accusing eyes on him.

The uniform laid to rest and packed away, a closed chapter in a life that still had so much living worth in it.

The music looped. Alex’s steady arm began to ache. He was running out of time.

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” Fields said, voice low and convincing past the jangling notes and Alex’s own pounding heartbeat. “This work isn’t just your legacy, it’s rewarding in its own right. Have you ever wanted to settle down, have a family? This offer comes with total security. No more moving around, way less following orders. I’m sure your lover would appreciate it too—”

That snapped Alex out of his frozen poise, the clanging dissonance making him snort. “My lover? You’re a little late with that one; we just broke up.” He dropped his gun hand. “Hang up the phone. Here’s your answer.”

“Go ahead.”

“The answer’s no.”

Fields’s face turned down, but, true to her word, she pressed end call. Alex reholstered his gun.

“Well, I can’t say I’m not disappointed. I was looking forward to working with you. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I hope so too,” Alex replied, surprising even himself that he’d be that candid. But something about Fields’s demeanor diminished with the threat of Flint on hold, almost like she’d pushed so hard because this was something she wanted, rather than something she was under orders to obtain.

Even with her phone silent, though, it represented the same thing—a direct line to Flint, an accessory to a job offer, putting someone with his track record highly placed to wreak havoc. But if Alex made all his decisions based on that fear, he’d never be free. He’d spend the rest of his life running into airport bathrooms after strangers.

And maybe he would anyway. Refusing to let himself be intimidated this once wouldn’t eradicate the real threat the aliens lived under every day. But allowing himself to live between those moments—he owed himself that much.

Shocking Alex further, Fields stuck out her hand, and he shook it.

“Apologies if I was overzealous, sir. I’ve been told I need to work on my impulsivity.”

“It’s—” Alex let out a weak laugh. “Water under the bridge, Lieutenant. What’s with this change of attitude?”

She shrugged. “Disappointment, I guess. A little embarrassment that I waited so long for no payoff. But I won’t force the issues. My superiors have other options.”

There was a veiled threat in there, too, but Alex was too tired to force the issue either. For the second time today, he resigned himself to walking away from stalemate.

“Goodbye, Lieutenant,” he said, stepping aside to let her get to her car.

“Goodbye, Captain.”

The last Alex saw of her was the back of her head driving away. And when she disappeared into the heat haze, he collapsed back into a chair, muscles weak and vision swimming. He stuck his head between his knees and sucked in deep breaths until he landed back inside his body.

When he could stand again, he did, pointing his body toward the door and marching inside. The door was still locked: no sign of forced entry anywhere, not in the front or the back or any of the windows Alex checked methodically, sash, latch, frame. The safe and medicine cabinet were both untouched; he checked each twice; he opened every closet and cabinet door on autopilot. He got on the floor to check beneath both beds; he pulled back the shower curtains.

And when there were no more places to check, he stood in the center of his house, staring down his own cameras, trying to break through the walls his own brain put down around him, trying to regain control.

So on edge, Alex wheeled around seconds before a car screeched into the driveway, the pounding of feet, the scrape of a key in the lock and the door thrown open, and—

“Alex!” Michael cried.

He bounded around the corner, wild-eyed and frantic, and as soon as he spotted Alex standing there, he rushed to him, arms already outstretched. Alex barely got his own arms up in time to catch him, but he didn’t need to; Michael was enough for both of them, steady and strong and there, solid arms around Alex, almost lifting him an inch off his feet. His hands clutched at Alex’s back with a desperation that registered only dimly.

“Alex,” he breathed again, holding him, if possible, even closer, pressing their foreheads together and sucking in a deep shuddery breath. “You’re okay, fuck, I was so scared—”

“I told you to stay away,” Alex said weakly.

Michael’s answering laugh was just as weak, almost hysterical. “You know I’m a rebel.”

They drifted like that for a minute or two, Michael’s warm, soft-rough palms cradling Alex’s face, grounding the both of them, letting their souls settle. Then, he stepped back, those hands on Alex’s shoulders, holding him at arm’s length.

“You’re okay? You’re not hurt? That phone call—you scared the shit out of me, Alex, what the hell happened?”

“When I got home, Fields was waiting for me.”

“What? Fuck!”

“I freaked out, I had to make sure you were safe, that you stayed safe—”

“Are you safe? What did she want? What did she do?”

“I’m fine. Physically, I’m fine,” Alex let his eyes fall shut, wrapping his hands around Michael’s wrists, fragile bones in his grip, and he let Michael hold him, shutting off his senses.

“Okay. Okay, Alex. I’ve got you,” Michael rasped, pressing into him even closer.

“I told her no,” Alex blurted out, pressing right back, starting them swaying back and forth. There was no other way to get close enough but to push and pull, no matter how much they tried to meld themselves into one.

“What?”

“Fields, I—I told her no. No Project Shepherd. No.”

“Alex.”

Michael’s fingers sought across his face, stroking, feeling, calloused finger pads on his brows, his cheekbones, fit so gently against the line of his jaw, tracing his lips and the corners of his eyes, and then Michael’s lips caressed him too, forehead, nose, then mouth, and by the time he was done, Alex’s breath hitched and his body shook.

“I love you,” Michael whispered. “I love you so much. You are—you are so fucking strong, you know that? I know, I know how hard this is, but I’m so proud of you.”

“I love you too,” Alex replied helplessly.

“It’s going to be okay, okay? We’ll figure it out.”

Somehow, Michael spoke with confidence, such a tiny, intimate assurance, no matter how unlikely, no matter how utopian, like a siren it sung to Alex to let go, to give his fear and stress over into Michael’s hands, and he needed somewhere physical for that feeling to go, so he looped his arms loosely around Michael’s neck and rested there.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” he admitted. “I don’t know how bad I fucked up—I don’t know how long she was here before I got back—there was no sign of entry, and I checked the house, but I don’t know—I don’t know—”

“Let’s sit down, okay? I’ll get you something to drink, and your meds, if you want, and I’ll, uh, let me tell Max he can go home…” Michael said sheepishly.

“Max?”

“Yeah, he was with me when you called and wasn’t gonna let me rush over here by myself if there was trouble.”

“Good man,” Alex said weakly.

Moving stiff, he sat on the couch. Michael flitted around him for a second, adjusting pillows, giving him a blanket, fingers trailing over him like he wasn’t quite willing to be out of arm’s length. He tore himself away, though, and Alex tracked him from one end of the house to the other, front door, bathroom, kitchen, and when he came back to Alex’s side he was barefoot, glass of water and pill bottle in hand, and he sat on the floor below Alex, leaning back against him, folding himself so his forehead rested against Alex’s hip and Alex could rest his hand in Michael’s hair.

“They’re not going to take you,” Alex promised. “No matter what it takes, whether I told her yes or no, I won’t let them have you.”

“I know,” Michael replied. “But I won’t let you give yourself up, either. We’re together. In everything. No matter what happens.”

“No—”

“That’s why I didn’t listen to you when you told me to stay away,” Michael explained, lifting his head enough to look Alex in the eye. He was as serious as Alex had ever seen him. “You can’t ask that of me. We stand together. That’s…that’s a line in the sand, okay?”

Alex swallowed. “I can’t promise I won’t say something like that again.”

“I know. But just understand—whenever you do, I’m gonna disobey.”

Alex’s eyes slipped shut, lips pressed together, riding out the fear, the straight shot of catastrophe in his brain. Michael’s words, so clear and steady, so different from the people they’d been, the places their relationship languished. Alex had to respect that, even knowing it would likely cause them to fight for the rest of their lives.

“I love you,” he repeated, the best acknowledgment he could give.

Michael smiled, crinkling the corners of his honey-sweet eyes, and Alex twisted a hand in the collar of his shirt, pulling him forward into a deep, sweeping kiss. He moved easy with every move of Alex’s, half-crouched to crawling up onto Alex’s thighs, then onto the couch to straddle his lap, his hot mouth driving deep against Alex’s. Alex’s hands went to his hair, gripping and tugging those soft curls, sliding down his back and back up, they made out on the couch like the teenagers they used to be.

Pulling back to breathe, but not so far Alex couldn’t shift to kissing down his throat and chest, Michael panted, “Bedroom? Do we wanna—should we--?”

“Uh,” Alex stalled out, the light from the window warm where it pooled, Michael’s hardening cock warm where it pressed against Alex’s belly through their clothes. The world was out there, the camera, in the corner, and Alex weighed his options, immediate gratification versus comfort and privacy.

Did they have any privacy, anyway? The image of Fields waiting, alone, at his house, free reign to tamper with whatever she wanted, haunted the edges of Alex’s mind.

“Alex?” Michael asked softly, brushing his fingertips through the overlong ends of his hair.

Their faces were only inches apart, their breaths mingling between lips and lungs, and there wasn’t anything Alex would let keep them from nurturing the happiness finally within their grasp.

“Yes,” Alex said, palming Michael’s hips, “Yes, bedroom.”

Sliding off his lap, Michael reached out a hand, and Alex took it, heat zinging up his arm where they were joined. Michael led the way until they reached the bedroom, where he hesitated beside the bed, watching Alex under his lashes. So Alex sat, pulling him by his belt loops back to straddle his lap like he had on the couch, running his hands up and down Michael’s body as he settled in, his own arms warm and solid around Alex’s neck.

The world held still, then, their eyes locked, electric and hypnotic, Alex’s hands twitching where they rested on Michael’s strong thighs, the scent of rain sharp and sweet in his nose and mouth with every inhale, every breath made tactile in puffs of heat in the space between them. The longer the moment stretched, the higher the temperature climbed, blood filling Alex’s cheeks, blood filling his cock as he waited for Michael’s next move.

That move was to lower his lips to Alex’s once again, slipping his hot, velvet tongue behind Alex’s lips and along his own tongue, flicking it against the roof of his mouth as he opened and relaxed into the languid kiss. As their mouths moved, so did Michael’s hands, cupping his neck then sliding down his shoulders to his chest. He dragged his thumbnails across Alex’s nipples, making him gasp and hiss, and Alex could feel the wicked smirk spread across his mouth even as he didn’t let up, nibbling his lower lip. Hips beginning to sway, Michael’s hands finished their journey at Alex’s waist, under his shirt and tugging it up—it was unthinkable to separate them, but they managed to wrench their mouths apart long enough to pull Alex’s shirt over his head—and then back down, he fumbled with the button on Alex’s jeans, fighting for access to his hardening cock.

Not to be outpaced, Alex did the same, making short work of Michael’s button and zipper even as he was distracted by the heat and velvet and texture of his chest and the sweet line of hair pointing down to his cock. Michael got up on his knees to shimmy his jeans down under his ass, tugging Alex’s off too, and when they were down to just the thin cotton of their underwear Michael let out a soft wavery sound, buzzing right into Alex’s mouth so he could taste the pleasure on it, frotting their cocks together, rubbing the weight of his body down against Alex. With every grind, his ass rolled against Alex’s thighs, a delicious tease, but not tonight, not tonight, it didn’t have to be tonight, taking everything of each other, they had so much time to explore every facet of their intimacy, every way to make each other climax, complete, come up and down all on each other.

“Come on, Michael,” Alex murmured, holding his hips as he ground down again. “C’mon, c’mon.”

“Alex,” Michael whispered back, all reverence.

“You’re so—fucking—” Beautiful, hot, incredible, amazing, all words that Alex didn’t even need to say, saying would cheapen them, and they had a better language, anyway. He tugged at the waistband of Michael’s boxers, and Michael’s dick bobbed free, hard and hot and Alex wrapped a hand around it, luxuriating in the texture and weight of it in his hand. He gave it one easy, loose stroke and Michael shuddered, another little sound falling from his lips.

They got into a rhythm quick—Michael slid his hand into Alex’s underwear to match him stroke for stroke, their hips moving in time, knuckles brushing every time they came together. Alex rolled his thumb over Michael’s slit and dragged the drop of precum collected down his vein, then let out a bitten-off cry when Michael did the same. Even the things Alex could predict were surprising at Michael’s hands.

After minutes of this, after sweat slicked the pace between them, hearts pounding, senses flooded, Michael shifted even closer, chasing Alex’s hand away as it came up his shaft, so he could wrap them both up and jerk them together, fast and rough, both of them fucked Michael’s hand and fucked against each other, Alex’s teeth on Michael’s ear, Michael’s lips against his cheek. Alex dug his nails into the meat of Michael’s shoulders, riding out every wave of pleasure until finally he came in messy, artless spurts over Michael’s hand.

Michael followed shortly behind, a stuttering moan and a pulse of pleasure, and then they both fell back onto the mattress, panting and laughing. They rolled toward each other like magnets, Michael slipping a leg between Alex’s thighs.

“It’s going to be okay,” Michael promised, serenity and certainty in every line of his face, and Alex sighed, pulling his hand to his chest and holding it there.

Michael couldn’t make that promise. Alex couldn’t make that promise. He had, before, and the universe turned it into a cruel joke. Believing it now would be a hard-fought battle.

“As long as we’re together, we’ll get through it,” Michael amended, and it drew a small smile to Alex’s face.

“I’ll do everything I can.”

“I know you will. But you don’t have to do it alone. You aren’t doing it alone.”

Alex answered him with another kiss, sealing it as truth between them.

(Thursday, 07:00)

Michael watched Alex through one lovely tawny eye as he went through the room double-checking there was no stray shirt of Forrest’s or toy of Buffy’s to collect before he made his last trip to the Long farm, to put paid to his and Forrest’s relationship once and for all.

“It’s early,” he said muzzily, through lips still mashed to the sheets warm with his sleep.

“I don’t want to keep this waiting,” Alex said with a wave of his hand, grabbing the bag of Forrest’s things. “Not while I have the day off. Get this done, then get back with plenty of time to prepare for our meeting.”

“Mmm, so efficient.”

“I do my best,” Alex said, hoping it came off as charming. “What are you up to today?”

Raising himself up on his hands, Michael arched his back in a luxurious stretch, muscles shifting in the early morning sun. He groaned as his muscles clenched and released and a couple joints popped, then said in his sweet early-morning rasp, “I should put in a couple hours at Sanders’s. Do we know everyone is coming today? Should I cut out early and meet you back here, or will you guys just be coming to the junkyard anyway?”

“I’ll touch base with everyone, but we’ll probably come to you.”

“Sounds good.” Michael stretched again, then swung his legs around to sit on the bed. One side of his face was flushed, one side of his curls scrunched. A bubble of light filled up Alex’s chest, and he cradled it so carefully, letting it show on his face, just for Michael.

Smiling back at him and rubbing one eye, Michael gestured at the bag of Forrest’s things and said, “How are you feeling? You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Alex replied, shifting the strap on his shoulder. Then, jaw working his face into a grimace, he added, “And that’s weird, right? I shouldn’t be fine? We dated for months—I should feel something.”

For weeks after his breakup with Maria, Michael had lurked on the edges of himself, head tucked between his shoulders, hands in his pockets. And now Alex turned his back with one last box on a to-do list, a final chore of separation. What did that make him?

“Hey,” Michael said, beckoning Alex forward and sliding his hands to cup his hips when he came. “Look, I don’t have a lot of experience in this area either, but enough with the should, okay? The only feelings you gotta feel are your own. You deal with breaking up however you need to, and so will Forrest.”

Alex took a measured breath, counting in, counting out. “You’re right. Thank you.”

“No thanks necessary,” Michael said, kissing him softly right on his sternum, above his anxious heart. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Alex left a parting kiss on Michael’s forehead and left him to get dressed and get to work. Making the drive to the Long farm for a second time in as many days was even more alien than the first; had he ever gone to Forrest’s so frequently as now, at the end?

The only feelings you gotta feel are your own, Michael said, with the wisdom of many years of terrible feeling, so as he drove, Alex did just that. One of the last sweet moments of their relationship was in a car just like this, playlist on the speakers half indie, half punk, both of them singing along to Pretty. Odd., where the two intersected, an album neither of them liked all that much in isolation but belted out together. For the rest of their lives, whenever those songs came on, for a moment they’d be back in a car together; wherever Forrest went next, in little three-minute bursts his phone would carry a dark desert road with Alex beside him.

For the rest of the drive, Alex turned on his music and let it play.

When he got to the farm and called Forrest, he came out of the house harried. “Why did I think you were bringing this stuff tomorrow?” he asked, a scowl on his face.

“I’m not sure; I had the day off and I thought—”

“Whatever. Thanks.”

A snappish retort leapt easily to Alex’s mind, but he held back. Forrest had reason enough to be mad, and if this was how he felt his feelings, they were broken up now—Alex abdicated soothing and fixing, and he’d take Forrest’s anger on the chin.

Forrest’s eyes darted toward Wyatt’s truck parked on the dirt drive beside Alex and said, “You should get out of here. Have a good life, Alex. I mean that.”

And just like that, Alex’s mind flipped and he couldn’t help himself. “If Wyatt is—”

“No, no, he’s mostly harmless. To me, anyway. But him seeing you here would be more trouble than it’s worth, so.” Forrest shouldered the bag of his things and half-turned away. “Bye.”

Alex didn’t move until Forrest disappeared back inside, gripping the steering wheel too tight until his fingers went cold and stiff. Fuck, maybe he should have waited to return this stuff, or just ditched it; all the closure from their last conversation soured on the tongue. But it was over now. Alex threw the car in reverse.

Then he threw it back into park a few yards down the lane, just out of sight of the main house. Wyatt was always more trouble than he was worth, but something was wrong in Forrest’s tone, and Alex would find out what. He had time, at least an hour, to sweep Wyatt’s most likely haunts, from the horse barn to his rigged-up shooting range.

Head on a swivel, Alex moved methodically, hot and dusty within minutes. The barn bustled with activity, so Alex gave it a wide berth, abandoning it as an option with no sign of Wyatt’s dulcet tones cutting through the air.

His mental map of the farm was imperfect at best, so Alex headed to the shooting range by way of the old barn, despite the distance out of his way, an acceptable risk when compared to the prospect of getting lost.

There was no time to linger, but the sight of the old building and fallen tree struck Alex with twin nostalgia and grief. Tripp’s dog tags hung body-hot beneath his shirt, and he let them, closing his eyes and focusing on that feeling, the chain around his neck, the weight of decades of inaction. He drifted closer to the barn, like returning Tripp’s tags to this place had some sort of meaning, whether blessing or blasphemy, Alex wasn’t sure.

He was still too far away to smell the rain burnt into the wood. Would it have smelled the same in Tripp’s time, rich and loving?

Alex hoped not.

Just as he turned to leave on that sour thought, a familiar voice drifted from inside the barn, freezing Alex in his tracks.

“I’m asking you again—are you—or not?”

What was Max doing here?

Alex crept closer. The response was clearer and came from Wyatt, loud and protesting.

“How are you even asking that right now? I’ve been doing all the shit you tell me for months, you gotta give me some quid pro quo—”

The last three words were a mocking drawl.

The response came, “Everything I’ve told you will come to pass, Mr. Long. Now’s not the time for doubters.”

That wasn’t Max. Alex’s heart pounded in his throat.

“Tsch. Whatever.”

“You’ve come far, Mr. Long. And, as always, I appreciate your talent for gathering information. Your eyes within the town are indispensable.”

“Oh yeah?”

“And you will be duly rewarded: doubly so for patience. Time is of the essence; I have to move while Manes is away—”

The sound of his name flashed hot and sharp through Alex’s frozen body, every nerve coming to life and screaming one thing: home.

#malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #my fic #malex

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steve0discusses · 3 years

Text

S5 Ep12: Brand New Mokuba Just Dropped

My tumblr has decided that it can’t save drafts again. Which sure is a problem I keep having but no one else seems to have...but were back. Back and ready to talk about cards.

First off, lets address the best thing about this episode, it’s the return of The A Team animation team! Dunno if it’s the same ones that did the seasons before, but it is a pretty good team this episode, so there’s lots of that to look forward to. Everyone is now 2 feet taller (Kaiba is 4 feet taller) and there’s just some really nice shots going on. It’s not as shiny as other seasons, which makes me think it might be a different team or a different studio using a different method (you don’t really see them playing with line weights anymore which makes it seem like a different method to me) but still--it’s a nicer looking episode today.

So we start off this episode with Seto begging us all to forget the hell that just happened and just get on with it. Of course, no one’s gonna do that, because yo, what just happened was kind of weird.

And because there’s only like...I dunno...maybe 2 episodes left in this arc? (kind of a quick arc, honestly) Leon decides to do a complete personality reversal. Although, it’s really hard to do a reversal when you didn’t have a personality in the first place...so I guess this more Leon showing us A personality--and I’ll take it.

He’s a little jackass now, but it’s youknow...still Leon so it’s not really that bad. Like we deal with Seto on the reg, so I feel like Leon as a jackass is just like...well that’s just how you play cards in this universe.

Everyone speculates whether or not Seto actually did a crime, and a SURPRISING number of them said he did not! Weird! But hey...I’ve gone over a billion times before, their memory is like when you throw popcorn into the ocean--it just fffzt’s and then it’s gone.

Roland was THIS close to actually saving Kaiba corp a huge hassle for once. This Close, Roland. You almost did it.

(read more under the cut)

I love that Roland has decided to give all these teens maybe the uncoolest nicknames in the entire world, and the teens have not made any indication whether they do or do not appreciate their alliteration nicknames.

But despite the fact that although Roland uses these opportunities behind the microphone to embarrass them just SO MUCH, the Kaibas still persist in having him introduce most of the matches. It makes it feel like the Kaibas freakin love this. They love his Dad jokes. I cannot tell if they are like “yes, please embarrass my friends.” of it they’re like “yes. Roland that was so cool. Yeah Leaping Leon. Good one! You’re so cool!” Because they don’t know what fun is.

Also, look what I see in the sky.

Truly a sign that they have overcome their trauma of seasons 2-3.

Or maybe they had a lot of blimps laying around and this is a completely unrelated blimp? Either way, I’m glad they can still handle the sight of a blimp.

And then, just out of nowhere, Mokuba hit puberty.

Which I mean, it was inevitable. It was going to happen some day. Luckily, we will be getting a new Mokuba this episode to make up for the fact that this one has done A Flirt and it was probably a completely innocent turn of phrase he has no idea is a double entendre but do the writers know that?

And while we ruminate the decisions there, lets bask in the glory of purple staircase.

This is such a purple staircase!

On another, identical staircase walks Leon, who gets to have a discussion with Zigfried, who probably just stood next to the wall and just chameleon’ed in here without getting caught cuz coincidentally this staircase dresses like him.

Freakin Mai?

Anyway, lets start this duel where like...I dunno, it’s a little late to start stealing souls, but maybe Leon will do a stab? (He will not)

So glad the storyboarder is back to kind of flex. I don’t normally see Roland drawn with this much attention. Look at him go. That’s the stance a grown man takes when he’s ready to embarrass a bunch of teens.

Kaiba writes a speech introducing himself, or Roland just kinda made up a speech as if Kaiba hadn’t asked him to do that. Either way it’s kind of a big way to talk yourself up--but he is trying to talk up the theme park so people will actually like...go. So it makes sense.

Also what is this nonsense where people worldwide are watching a theme park opening match? Card culture is so weird because we’ve noticed in other seasons there are people that don’t play cards, and I feel like they’re not watching this for fun. It’s like when I watch news unfold--they’re watching to see if they have to raid the toilet paper aisle and the canned goods again to prepare for yet another onslaught of card nonsense.

Legit Mokuba was like “Look at my bro. Look at how he gave up dueling to throw this nice tourney for everyone!” and it’s like...Mokuba...he just dueled...Mokuba...he’s putting all the profits directly in your pockets this is hardly a martyr up here.

Seto Kaiba decided to inform the world that he would have won if he was actually playing and that was sure a statement he made after losing to Yugi like...3 times now? Several times.

Everyone else converses how Leon’s acting weird. I don’t know why they care all of a sudden, because no one acts normal playing this game, but the plot desires them to care.

Which is when we find out...

...the new Mokuba...

That’s right. He was a Mokuba the whole time. For once we haven’t abducted Mokuba, instead...we have too many Mokubas.

This Mokuba even has hella long hair, too. I imagine if Mokuba proper had a ponytail it would probably look just like this but black. It would have been just--so good if he whipped off that ribbon and shook out his hair and it fluffed into a horrible Mokuba mess, but you know, that’s one of the many reasons why I don’t write for this series. That and I was like in high School when this came out.

(Please admire Kaiba’s head of Security who looks like he’s about to drop a poop out of terror. It’s a really small detail, but I appreciate that the storyboarder had him kind of antsy in the background)

Seto insists that the only one to beat Yugi Muto will be himself and it’s like...I know. That’s why I keep expecting someone to get stabbed by this tiny purple haired Mokuba. But instead, Leon’s too busy feeling mad that he’s not necessarily playing the game for fun.

But he’s still playing the game though? so I feel like Yami doesn’t have many stones to throw here. Leon hasn’t even cheated yet. (As if Yami isn’t cheating basically all the time by being 2 people in one body)

I can’t BELIEVE this show would throw that at me after the number of times I have seen Yami Muto nearly murder other people (and sometimes literally do a murder) out of revenge. Yami is basically a revenge god...like...show...what? It’s season 5, I thought we’ve basically cemented this in. Occasionally the show will just be all “card games are supposed to be fun though!!!” and it’s like...these are the last children on Earth who are playing card games for fun.

If anything, it should be Leon lecturing them on how to have fun. They just murdered a Great Leviathan with cards. Before that they were dealing with Noah, with Marik, with Pegasus, with Bakura. The times that Yugi has just played a game for fun has been...This Arc.

So maybe Yami is just begging himself to have fun for once. Maybe he’s just mad that he can’t play a single tournament without someone getting possessed? Maybe his frustrations really aren’t about little Leaping Leon, and more to do with Yami sick and tired of being a protagonist.

But, youknow, it’s not an anime, unless the protagonist hypocritically can get away with every sin out there and everyone else gets punished for it. So lets find out just how far Leon fell from fun-having grace with a flashback.

This Belle cosplayer went off in like...one of the most hilariously bad accents I’ve heard in a while, it was just so much, I’ll probably cap it because lolol.

But since Leon wasn’t actually in line to inherit the company, he has to sort of hole up in his room for his entire childhood. It’s kinda weird, since we can’t assume that Zigfried will either a.) live forever or b.) have or adopt or raise children in any capacity. But they’re pretty sure Zigfried will live forever, and in this universe--maybe.

Also, I’m really not sure why they have to dress like it’s 1890, but they sure are. The Victorian era just never left the Von Schroeder house. Like these women are wearing corsets to be in that dress, and you can’t BUY a corset to match this type of dress, you have to make your own, and I know, because in Quarantine, I got really into historical sewing videos.

I can’t believe I spent an entire year watching historical sewing videos. Holy crap. I don’t even sew.

But then again...Seto is kind of drawn like he wears a corset...so maybe people are still wearing them in the Yugioh universe? Maybe that’s how their fashion just works?

Guys...I analyze Yugioh fashion a lot but the fact that the Edwardians never freakin left this worldly plane is just...that’s canon to Yugioh. I really just want to sit back and analyze Yugioh fashion with a moodboard and try to connect all the dots logically as if they aren’t just one-off jokes, but I don’t know how I’d fit that on this post.

And like, one of y’all brought up in a comment in the last post that what’s neat about this arc is we are seeing Zigfried as what Seto would have been like if he hadn’t like...gotten cursed by Yugi Muto. So, going off that idea, I think it’s kinda fun that Zigfried’s outfit is a bit of a younger take on Pegasus’ whole look with the wrist lace and a fusion of Gozaburos look of wearing a cravat with a smoking coat. It’s fun to imagine that this is what Seto’s inner gremlin dresses like (which...now I think about it...was a thing from S1 where Yami defeated a Seto gremlin but...I don't remember much about it) Of course, Seto would also be hella dead if he hadn’t gone through the Yugi cycle, but it’s still a fun road to think about.

Plus, when we go down that road, it really makes this arc look even more like it’s just about Seto Kaiba’s therapy sesh to recover from the last several seasons that he’s accidentally (or intentionally??) invited the entire world to watch and that’s very funny to me.

Bro has informed me you can make a deck out of Jerry but could not show me any receipts.

...I mean that is Dartz right?

Like I know all the characters have cards of themselves IRL and all the characters are also based on cards that were made before they were on TV (with the exception of our main cast that was...youknow, a horror manga) but like...

...what’s up, Dartz?

Anyway, our little Mokuba decides to sneak out the house and run around the world at the ripe ol age of ... what I’m guessing is like 10-12, and is pretty sure he can just get away with that. Luckily, the crimes he’s committing are exactly the type of crimes that Zigfried needs.

(Pretty sure their Dad died or is incapacitated but OK, dub, go ahead and pretend that plot point didn’t go down last episode.)

Also, I’m really glad we got a good storyboarder for this part who was like “Zigfried looks...like that?” and still managed to make this character design really work this episode. In some parts they even gave Zigfried those wide Marik Eyes that are kind of ubiquitous with Yugioh. It just needs the right hands to draw it, and then any amount of...this outfit...can work.

So, just like when we met Mokuba in S1, he’s gonna do a duel on Yugi to save his family and probably also like Mokuba, not give a damn for how this game is supposed to be played. Luckily, this time Pharaoh doesn’t have any star chips lying around for this kid to just run around and steal before booking it out the back gate.

Yugi over there with his twitter-brand hot-takes, not knowing the difference between actual brainwashing and blackmail/family pressure.

(WHY IS MAI HERE?)

Look at that hatching!

Ah this is the 00′s content I’m here for! Check out the soft brush! The dodge and burn! Ah! Man this sure was an era of computer art! and stuff like this cost a lot of money to make and it looked ... like this!

Now I’m pretty sure we can make art that looks this dated on like...a free phone app.

PS please do not ever shade your art like this. This is what you don’t do. Do not do this. I will shed a single tear shaped like the Photoshop symbols for dodge and burn.

Also...guys...

next episode is Ep 13. Every season so far this show has been like “we’re normal, everything is normal” getting us complacent until exactly Ep 13, when everything gets really effed up. So...

will that happen? Will they continue this tradition into S5 or has it been a coincidence until now? Excited to find out.

Anyway, if you just got here, this is the link to read these from the beginning in chrono order:

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

#ygo #yugioh #yu gi oh #S5 #Ep12 #yugi muto #leon von schroeder #good because I forgot his other last name #zigfried von schroeder #seto kaiba #mokuba kaiba #roland #joey wheeler #tea gardner #the others who didn't say or do anything so I probably shouldn't tag them #Can't believe how quickly this arc is wrapping up

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wayward-wren · 3 years

Text

What up lads new Philza Lore dropped

Been thinking about this since it's been revealed that c!Phil is immortal, or at least centuries old. I like analysing things, and my brain has been chugging away analysing c!Phil since this new revelation and I finally found time to sit down and get my thoughts out.

Unless specified, I'll be talking about the character Philza from now on! Let's get into it. Putting a cut in because it gets long. Also most of this is gonna be from memory because it's getting late and I'm not digging through 4+ months of vods!

remind me to never use the new Beta posting layout it gave me a word limit and then yeeted like 800 words i hate it here lets see if i can remember what I wrote

I’ve moved a lot in my life. I think on average about one new city every four years. This has meant a lot of goodbyes, a lot of meeting new people and breaking into new circles. When this new information was revealed, I instantly felt things click - I could relate to Phil suddenly.

Being centuries-old would create similar emotions, I think. Constantly being around people you know you will outlive, constantly finding yourself in new circles and groups. It takes a toll.

Being centuries old effects how Phil views relationships, people and countries.

Because I’ve moved a lot, I’ve noticed that I’m starting to get the attitude of ‘I can’t be bothered.’ I can’t be bothered going out of my way to meet new people, to make new friends I’m likely to move away from in a few years.

I’d imagine Phil would feel much the same way. Making close connections to people is impossible for him, really. He knows he’s going to outlive those around him and so the effort to put into growing relationships seems pointless.

I think this is most seen in his and Wilbur’s relationship. Wilbur clearly wants his attention - his pride - and clearly hasn’t gotten it to the extent he wants. (“I wonder if Phil would be proud of me” comes to mind. Plus I’m sure there’s something there with his relationship with Fundy and that cycle of bad parenting. And yes, it likely contributed to his spiral into madness, but this post is about Phil, not Wilbur.) But from Phil’s perspective, he knows Wilbur isn’t going to live as long as he is.

It explains why he’s so quick to kill Wilbur as well. Wilbur is too far gone, and Phil makes the decision to kill him before he does more harm. He’s long ago accepted the fact that his son will die before him, and so he is able to kill him.

Likewise, his relationship with Tommy reflects this. He doesn’t reach out to Tommy because there’s no point in making a new bond with someone who he will outlive. (especially with Wilbur’s death so fresh). However, he does make it clear that if Tommy reached out to him, he would have answered - more on that later.

His age also means he’s always looking at the big picture. He’s likely seen countless countries and empires and kingdoms rise and fall and he knows that they’re all temporary. He doesn’t see the importance in them like those who live and die within the lifespan of a nation.

He doesn’t see the small details. He doesn’t understand why Ghostbur is so upset about a simple sheep’s death - one with unlimited lives as well. In his mind, it’s just an animal. In Ghostbur’s mind, Friend is a friend, an important small thing. Phil is so used to moving on from things, he doesn’t understand the importance of pets and nations and a home.

This is all temporary in his mind, and lives are more important to him than a country. L’manberg was corrupting people (Tubbo, quite possible Wilbur in his mind) and thus it didn’t serve its purpose and needed to go before it hurt more people. (plus I wonder if there were some underlying anger and frustration towards L’manberg for the loss of his wings. It’s basically canon now (everyone say thank you Sadist!) that Phil’s wings were damaged during the explosion, and I would imagine for someone so old, losing limbs like wings and being grounded would be a shock and some of that may have been projected onto L’manberg)

(I also want to talk briefly about his and Techno’s relationship. While we haven’t had any canon confirmation, I don’t think Techno is fully mortal and it makes sense for Phil to gravitate towards other ancient beings. Plus my friend pointed out another theory in that Phil could be a patron of some kind for Techno, something Blood God related, I don’t know we need more information Techno please give us character lore I beg of you)

OKAY! I rewrote what I already had sometimes I hate Tumblr anyway onward let’s write this out before I pass out I’m tired.

Phil is willing to create relationships - but on his terms.

I said Phil is distant and hesitate to create bonds with people but this isn’t necessarily true. I want to point out Fundy and Ranboo and talk about his interactions with them and then talk about Tommy.

At the start of season two, Fundy, Ghostbur and Phil were really driving the lore. Phil seemed to be trying to bond with Fundy, and I think a lot of that likely had to do with guilt from what happened to Wilbur but there’s something deeper to it. He makes an effort to be there for Fundy and to help him.

Likewise, he went out of his way to save Ranboo from lava (though the overlap for in character and ooc is large there, I think it still applies), and brought him home after Doomsday, saving him from his own mind.

Phil seems himself as a benevolent being. He sees himself as right, and part of that is being there for his grandson, or helping out a hybrid in trouble.

However, it’s important to note - this is on his terms. He’s lived so long, he doesn’t want to put energy into relationships that won’t give him back something. For Fundy, I think a lot of it was making up for what happened with Wilbur and family responsibility, but he enjoyed spending time with Fundy (it’s been a while I need to rewatch some of those vods I think).

With Ranboo, again I feel like there’s a small part in fulfilling some need of Phil’s to feel like he’s being ‘good’ and plucking this kid out of a warzone makes him feel good. But at the same time, Ranboo is polite, quiet, generous - the perfect kind of person to put energy into building a relationship with. Plus, I would not be surprised if Ranboo reminds him of Techno.

If a relationship takes too much, or isn’t worth it - Phil drops it and doesn’t bother trying to fix what is broken. Why would he? He’s just going to outlive whatever the problem is. He lived in L’manberg, but he was never a part of it. He dismissed Tubbo so quickly when he saw Tubbo was being corrupted by his power and position. He didn’t follow up on Fundy or check that he was okay or make any effort to reach out to him when things started to go down.

And that brings us to Tommy. We’re all upset at how Phil reacted to Tommy’s exile and the following, but I think it makes so much sense. Like I said before, he doesn’t put the effort into reaching out to Tommy, but he would have gone to the Beach Party if Tommy had reached out to him. He was happy to see Tommy at Techno’s place, he was willing to create that relationship and bond.

But from Phil’s pov, Tommy was thrown aside by his home, found shelter with Techno, and then betrayed Techno by siding with the people who threw him aside. (and Techno is loyal to the few he trusts, so a betrayal like that will hit hard and Phil can see that). It makes sense that Phil decides that isn’t a relationship he wants to put energy into fixing.

(Also to clarify, I’m not saying Tommy was wrong to side with L’manberg and Tubbo, or that Techno was right in lashing out like he did. I’m just saying it’s a complex issue, and seeing all sides of it is important - they were both betrayed that day).

Living so long means Phil only cares to put effort and energy into relationships that benefit him, in whatever way. If someone is too difficult or needs too much effort, then in Phil’s mind there’s no reason to pursue that relationship.

Being so old makes Phil overly confident in himself.

Philza is always in the right. Full stop. End of story.

He’s lived so long and has so much more experience than anyone else that he thinks he is in the right all the time. His fatal flaw is his pride and - much like Techno - he refuses to see anything from anyone else’s point of view.

He saw L’manberg’s corruption, saw that it as a nation was hurting people and made the decision that it was doing more hurt than good so of course he joined Techno and Dream in destroying it.

He sees the big picture and so of course Friend’s death doesn’t matter, Friend was just an animal. Ghostbur is too naive and foolish to understand that now.

Unless he learns to listen and see someone else’s point of view - which will be very hard, because he’s so old and connecting with people is hard for him - he’s going to continue to think he’s always in the right.

Conclusion

There’s a few things I want to see/think might happen with Phil’s character, one more likely than the other.

First off - Karl.

If anyone knows how to look at the big picture, if anyone knows how insignificant the simple things are and how pointless it can be sometimes it’s the server’s resident time traveller. But where Karl differs from Phil is that he cares.

Karl goes out of his way to help, risks his memory and sanity to make things better for his friends. Pours time and effort and energy into relationships that may be onesided or temporary - heck, have you seen how much effort he goes to to be liked by everyone? Sometimes too much.

I’d love to see some Karl and Phil interaction. Maybe in a Tales episode (young Phil? Backstory? Maybe?) or even in regular canon. It’s unlikely probably, but I think it could be an interesting discussion. Someone write a fic.

Secondly - death.

CC!Phil has made it no secret that his character is probably going to die at some point (if only for ghost WINGSSSS). Honestly? I think it could be a great direction to take the character.

If Phil could find something worth dying for, could find the joys in the small things, could focus on the little details enough to realize - ‘oh. This does matter’ I honestly think that would be cool. A sacrificial death, maybe even for something as ‘insignificant’ as a pet (although pets can be important on this server). I’m not sure, but I think making peace with death would be a great way to take an immortal character’s arc.

There’s more I could talk about - for instance, I haven’t even mentioned the ‘not as painful as what I inflicted on their enemies’ comment and Phil’s whole ‘angel of death’ vibe, or the fact that he’s always only had one life. But it’s getting late and I’ve been writing this for like an hour and a half and I’m really tired. Feel free to add on!

#dream smp #dsmp #mcyt #philza #philza minecraft #this was fun #please reblog i put a lot of effort into this and i'd love people to see it!#let me know what you think ^-^#i'm going to have to find some songs and write something at some point probably #anyway sleep time #this is nearly 2000 words guys #im putting my highschool english essay skills to very good use

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pro-fangirls-unsocial-life · 3 years

Text

The Dark Side of the Full Moon (2/9) Were!Rex x Reader

A/N: How’s everyone doing? I hope that you guys enjoy this one! It starts off really fluffy but it gets intense fast! As always, let me know if you want to be tagged for this fic! I'm going to start putting the tags in the replies so that the post isn't too long.

Length: ~2000 words

Warnings: it starts out fluffy but gets intense fast. horror, blood, mentions of injury, overall pretty canon typical violence

Previous - Next

You and Rex had been walking for about ten minutes when he had guided you back toward the main road of Coruscant. “Do we have to go back already,” you whined. “Being alone with you has been so peaceful.” You looked up at Rex and saw that he was grinning widely.

“Who said we were going back?” As you both rounded the corner, he gestured to the horse drawn carriage that was waiting on the main road. “I was hoping to take you somewhere special first,” he said as he let go of you and took a step toward the carriage. He bowed and held his hand out to you. “Would my lady care for a ride?”

You felt a small heat begin to rise in your cheeks as you smiled widely back at him. “Why of course, my Captain.” You took his hand and he helped you up into the carriage. He then rounded the back and climbed in next to you, taking the reins in his hands.

As you rode along, he put his arm around you and you had put your head on his shoulder, listening to the click of the horse’s hooves reverberate off of the cobblestone road. After a while you began to recognize the setting around you. You were heading toward the edge of town. When the carriage finally stopped, you sat up and looked around.

You turned to Rex, a confused look on your face. “My bakery?” You tilted your head to the side as he only chuckled.

He got out and came over to your side of the carriage once again, extending his hand to help you down. He looked at you lovingly as you slowly grabbed his hand. “Trust me.”

You had walked up to the door and unlocked it, but before you could open it, Rex lightly grabbed your hand and took it off of the handle. “Wait.” He looked back at the door to make sure it had not opened at all. “Close your eyes.”

You shot him a confused look but did as he said. You heard the door open and then felt his hands over your eyes as he guided you into the building from behind. You heard him kick the door shut as you passed through and stopped once you felt his hands come down to your shoulders. “Alright,” he said. You could hear him smiling as he spoke. “Open.”

You opened your eyes and gasped, your hands coming up to your mouth. The main room of your bakery had been completely cleaned and was covered in autumnal colored decorations. Dozens of candles were placed around the room giving it a warm glow. You turned back to Rex with tears in your eyes. “You did this for me?”

He took a step toward you and took your hands in his. “Of course, my love.” He brought your hands up to his mouth and kissed them both before bringing them to his chest. “Do you know why this place is so special?”

You shook your head.

“When I first came to Coruscant, I was sent here by General Skywalker to pick up the supplies report from this bakery. He said that yours had been one of the ones selected to help make the rations for the army. I remember it like it was yesterday.” He looked around the room and then focused back on your face. “The second I walked though those doors, I gazed upon the most beautiful being I had ever seen. You were wearing a blue dress and an old apron that were both covered in flour and frosting. You had your sleeves rolled up and wore the kindest and warmest smile I had ever seen on your face.” He continued to lovingly look down at you and had started slowly rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. “When you finally noticed me, you came up to me and spoke with a voice that sounded like pure music. I was so caught up in it, that I didn’t hear a word that you had said.”

He brought one of his hands up to cradle your face as he gave you a small kiss. “Y/N, this place is so special because it is where I met the love of my life. Ever since that day, I have been so incredibly happy, even in the blackest of times.” He brought his hand back down to hold yours. “Ever since I met you, you have been the calm within my storm. You have been the warmth in my winter. The serenity within my madness. The moon that lights my darkest night.”

You looked up at him as you felt tears begin to fall down your face. You felt warmth blossoming in your chest but could not get any words out of the catch in your throat.

He lovingly smiled down at you as he continued. “I know that I cannot promise you much and I know that I cannot even promise you a certainty that I will always come back to you from battle. But I can promise you my undying love, now until the end of time.” He let go of your hands and reached into his pocket as he got down onto one knee. He held up a small ring and looked into your eyes. “So now my love, I make you that promise. Miss Y/N L/N, will you marry me?”

You brought your hands up to your face and started wiping away your tears as you swiftly nodded. “Yes,” you wept out. “Yes!” Rex immediately jumped up and picked you up from around the waist as he enthusiastically kissed you. He hugged you tighter as he spun the two of you around.

When he pulled away from the kiss, he set you back onto the ground and put his forehead against yours with his eyes closed. “I love you cyare.”

You smiled, “I love you too Rex.”

He kissed you again and then you felt him pull away. He tenderly smiled at you and then grabbed your left hand. “May I,” he said as he held up the silver ring.

You nodded and beamed as he put the ring onto your finger. It was not much. A simple silver band with jaig eyes carved on the outside, but you loved it like it was the most intricately crafted band in the world. Once it was on your finger, you watched as it sparkled in the moonlight that had just begun to pour in through the window.

Suddenly, Rex stumbled back from you and brought his hand up to his head. You could see that the blood had drained from his face and his pupils had become pinpoints in his rapidly blinking eyes. “Woah, Rex!” You reached out for his shoulders to steady him. “Are you alright?”

He shook his head, trying to clear the daze that had just washed over him when he collapsed to the floor. His breathing was ragged and heavy and he was barely able to hold himself up with his hands. He began to sway as you saw the muscles in his body began to contract. His fingers began to clench at the rough wooden floor as a sheen of sweat began to cover his body.

“Rex?”

He began to groan and wail as you felt the muscles under your hand on his shoulder enlarge. You looked down at him and saw as his body began to get bigger and bigger, his clothes beginning to tear at the seams. You took your hand off of him and began to scoot back until your back had hit the cabinet. “Rex,” you said, your voice trembling with fear. “You’re scaring me.”

Rex began to claw at his chest and let out a blood curdling scream as you saw blond fur being to slowly cover his body, his face beginning to morph into something not entirely human.

Suddenly, the door burst open to reveal Cody, his chest heaving and his eyes wide. The wind blowing out any artificial light that was inside the room. “Y/N!”

“Cody!” You looked up at him as he ran over to you and started to pull you up off of the floor.

He threw a glance over his shoulder and then looked at you with a face of terror that you had never seen him wear. “We need to go. Now.” He began to pull you toward the exit when a huge leg kicked him in the chest, knocking him back. You both fell to the floor against the cabinet and turned your heads toward a rough bark that had just thundered throughout the room. You froze and gazed in terror at the huge blond wolf that stared right at the two of you, bloodlust in its eyes.

Cody threw as much of himself over you as he could and pressed you flat up against the cabinet. “Rex!” You saw the wolf raise its paw to strike and Cody brought his arm around the back of him to hold you behind his trembling form. “Rex! No!” The wolf slashed at Cody and you heard him scream in pain as he fell to the side. His hands desperately trying to keep himself latched to you as a barrier.

The wolf looked at Cody on the floor but turned to you as it heard you whimper in fear. As it brought up its paw again you screamed and brought your arms up in front of your face to try and shield yourself. You saw it freeze for a moment when it heard your cry, and you closed your eyes. Its claws scraping against the wooden floor rang out through the room and then you felt Cody grabbing your arms.

“Y/N?” He shook you so that you would open your eyes. “Y/N!” You open your eyes and saw blood flowing down the left side of his face, a huge gash running from his forehead down to his cheek. “Are you alright?” His voice was panicked, and his face was plastered with fear. He looked almost like a terrified child.

You looked up at him and opened your mouth to try to answer but nothing came out. The adrenaline coursing through you catching every sound in your throat as you shook in terror.

“Y/N! Please, answer me! I need to know that you are alright!”

You swallowed and felt tears well up in your eyes as you trembled. “What… What… happened?” Your voice began to break as the tears started spilling from your eyes. “What happened to Rex?” You were sobbing, taking a deep breath in between each word.

Cody stared at you and quickly pulled you into a tight hug. He put his head on top of yours as you sobbed into his chest. “I’m… I’m so sorry.” He rubbed your back, trying to get you to calm down. “I… I should have told you sooner, but I thought… I thought I could fix it.” You felt wet drops of blood and tears begin to land in your hair as Cody rocked the two of you back and forth.

You both just sat there, filling the room with your cries until your throats had gone raw. When you had finally calmed down, you pulled away from Cody. “Can,” your breath hitched as your voice broke. “Can we help him?”

Cody stared at you in shock as guilt and sadness came across his face. He blinked at you and looked down at the floor, thinking it over in his mind. “I… I don’t know,” he said as he peered up at you with still tear-filled eyes.

“Is there anyone who can?” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you looked between the floor and Cody.

Cody took a deep breath in and tried to still himself. He slowly got up off of the floor and held his hand out to help you up. “Maybe.”

You took his hand and he pulled you up, taking another deep breath. “Come on,” he said motioning his head toward the door. “We need to go find Wolffe.”

#were!rex x reader #captain rex x reader #captain rex x female!reader #were!rex #the dark side of the full moon #my writing #Commander Cody #blood tw #injury tw

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scatter-kinnin-patter · 3 years

Text

Okay that's it I NEED to gush about my c! Wilbur timeline under the cut because it's so canon divergent but my memories are so so vivid I gotta gush somewhere

Man I haven't had a kin with mems this vivid in a while so it feels weird but here we go!

Leading up to the war with Pogtopia, I was like most other Aliveburs, and p canon compliant. Philza was my dad, Tommy was my younger brother, and Techno was my twin but only older by like, five minutes. I don't know how he got so much more of the Piglin traits than I did(I remember having pointy ears tho) but... Fratenal twins I guess lol. We were close as kids, but kinda grew apart when we got older. He went off to do his own thing, I stuck around with Tommy. I missed Techno and Phil a lot in early DSMP days. But I had Tommy! Tubbo was sorta like a little brother but moreso in the "hey this is my little bro's best friend so he's over for dinner all the time" way than the "guess I have another sibling" way.

Don't have much to say on the L'manburg revolution or the election arc or anything, those were pretty much just lined up with canon.

Pogtopia arc though... Whew. Here we go. Tommy and I got exiled, we fled to our ravine, yadda yadda it followed canon. I'll admit, I quickly fell into my paranoia and delusions. I think I was alone with my thoughts for too long, and with everything Schlatt was doing and such a delicate balance on the people of Manburg being with us or against us, especially after Eret betrayed us in the past, I just. I couldn't trust anyone. Except maybe Tommy, he was my lifeline of sorts, and especially when he called Technoblade. Having Tommy and Techno really grounded me: helped me remember that I was fighting for the people I care about, not just some presidency.

And then. Well. Techno and I were talking about Manburg's destruction, Tommy was more against it but still wanted to help take Schlatt down and get Tubbo back. But Techno and I started preparing for the worst. That's when I met with Dream about the TNT thing.

Now Dream kinnies, ily, but you might wanna skip this paragraph because I'm gonna rant about my Dream for a lil bit. Not you, you're valid and I love you lots, but this is a rant against my Dream. He wasn't just going to give his TNT to me for nothing, he needed something in return. So we went back to a temporary base he set up and did our deal there. He made me sit down in a chair, bound my wrists and ankles, and made me watch... something. It was almost like a TV screen? I don't know what it was, but it took a hold of my consciousness. Whatever this was, it was hypnotism. I don't remember much about it, Dream tried to make sure I'd forget, but I remember Dream using hypnosis to plant this idea in my head that I was the villain of the story. That no matter what I had to destory Manburg because thats what a villain would do. I. Really hate him for that. He just used me. But what's done was done, he gave me my TNT and sent me back to Pogtopia.

You know where the story goes from there- my corruption, the war on Manburg, Schlatt's death... and me blowing it sky high. I remember Philza shielding us with his wings. I missed Philza so much. But I couldn't get over the hypnosis I was under. I was still the villain, and heroes have to slay the villains, right? Philza stabbed me, and he held me... and then he was gone.

Now uh... Hehe, serious canon divergence time...

I didn't die. I don't know how I didn't, but I didn't. I remember waking up in a cold room on a single bed, no windows. Couldn't leave because it was an iron door. My chest was bandaged up, and it ached like hell. Eventually someone came in, someone new: Ranboo. He kinda freezes and goes "Oh. You're awake. Uh." And just leaves and shuts the door behind him.

Shortly thereafter, Tubbo and Quackity came in. We started talking(as much as we could, I had trouble staying awake for long) about what happened. Big Q found me while going through the rubble, and realized I was still breathing, so they brought me to a secret room under L'manburg. I was in a coma, for at least a few weeks, I don't remember the exact time. I lost a lot of blood, I was very pale... and I think it messed with my brain. I couldn't really.... remember anything in the weeks leading up to the war: my exile, my hypnosis, my unfinished symphony, none of it. They looked... unsure of what to do with me. Tbh looking back I don't blame them, I did a LOT of crime. But they decided to keep me in this room for now. They didn't tell Tommy or Philza or any of them yet. Apparently only Tubbo Quackity and eventually Ranboo knew about me.

One day though, I was sleeping when I feel someone shake my shoulder. I wake up and I realize it's Dream. I ask what he's doing here and he goes "It's time to go, Wilbur." And I don't really know what to do, but I take his hand and start following him out of the building and back to the surface. They were setting up for Techno's execution. Dream sent Punz in to distract the Butcher Army, but I call out for Techno. His eyes lock with mine and I've never seen him look like that before. Such- genuine confusion and relief? Looking back, I can see why. He must've thought he was seeing a ghost(hehe ghostbur kinnies I love you)

The anvil drops, and Techno lives thanks to his totem, but before I can call out to him again Dream grabs me and starts running off with me. I think Techno saw us because he yelled for me and ran after us. Dream took us down a random tunnel and let Techno follow, because once they got far enough from the fray, Dream just... shoved me to Techno and walked away without saying anything else. Before we could really do much else, Quackity showed up. He was confused that Techno lived, he was mad that Dream just helped him, and he was furious that Techno had me. Techno made sure he was between Quackity and I and they both fought, Big Q losing a canon life(sorry Quackity kinnies ily!!!)

Techno then just grabbed me and ran. He lead me back to his house and we had a long, long conversation about what happened. I missed him so much.

I'm still piecing together memories post-execution, but I know I spent a lot of time with Techno after that, including when Tommy was with us.

I'd try to remember more but I just realized how long this post got OOPS anyways if u read all this thank u, I just needed to share my Comabur timeline

#💙wil💙#dsmp kin #dream smp kin #wilbur soot kin #I can't believe I'm calling myself Comabur

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mego42 · 4 years

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I 100% agree about wanting more fanfic lists! I honestly think it's the best way to get a variety. Everybody has personal preferences, if someone, who mostly reads long, fluffy au Brio fic, is making recs, they're not likely to mention short, angsty, canon Brio (which is understandable and fair!) so ideally someone else, who does like those, would also do recs. I'm pretty sure I've read or at least tried the vast majority of Brio fics, but the recs often make me re-read the fic and author.

YAAASSSS!!! I mean like, okay, I v much get why people have issues with rec lists, and I def do not by any stretch endorse the idea that recs/rec lists should be considered anything other than one person sharing a think they liked, but to me a lot of the issues (the same fics/authors getting recced, feeling like awesome fics/authors are going unrecognized) can be solved by more reccing, not less. everyone’s got different taste and different stuff they look/read for and I am extremely pro sharing that.

Idk, I think about it like this: in a previous internet life I was a YA book blogger and I lived and died by recs from other bloggers whose taste and preferences I knew. I mean, you know, I’d check out a book bc the premise sounded interesting but literally the first thing I would do was go to Goodreads and look for a handful of people who tended to like the same books I did and see what they were saying about it bc that was the best way to get a good idea of if I wanted to give it a shot. Or, on the flip side, there were some people whose reviews I followed bc I knew we v much did not read for the same things so if they hated a book for X, Y and Z reasons, I was probs going to like it (one thing about book blogging is if you want to keep current, you do not have a lot of time to mess around, snap judgements are key but that’s a whole other thing and idk if it’s even relevant anymore bc that landscape has changed so much).

ANYWAY, the point is, I got in the habit and now I do the same thing with fic bc, tbh, I don’t have a ton of time to read, esp not when I’m actively writing which, with the exception of the last week or two, I’ve been doing p non-stop since I got here. All of which to say is, I am desperately in favor of fic recs for purely selfish reasons, I need them! Give them to me!!! Please!!!!!

That said, I uh, am v bad at returning the favor and I recognize that (I think I’ve made what? two rec lists for this fandom?) so I will try to do better to live by my own, idek what this is, moving on and here are 10 recs not really thematically linked by anything other than I’ve read them and loved them and don’t think I’ve put any of them on one of my rec lists yet (and if I have, my blog is a trainwreck I cannot be expected to remember what’s on it LET ME LIVE):

The Goodest Boy by EnsignDisaster

There’s a key turning in the lock and Buddy rushes over to greet his Master excited for her to meet his new friends. The door opens and he dances around Master’s feet rejoicing on the fact that she’s made it home. It's been literally forever.

“Hey Buddy what’s wrong? Need to go potty? Need to pee-pee?”

“Nah he’s good we took him out.”

Master does something very unMasterlike, she drops all the food she’d brought in on the ground and screams. It’s a non traditional avant garde type of hello…Buddy loves it. Mostly because while Master taps furiously on her small light box and sits tense in the corner opposite his new friend Buddy can lick up the egg smashed on the hardwood floor.

Buddy! The! Dog! POV! no further explanation necessary. Technically WIP, but it covers the whole pilot in a way that could be read as standalone (THOUGH THAT WOULD V MUCH GIVE ME A SAD though, when did the show forget the Bolands had a dog? so maybe that’s a tragic casualty of canon, idk)

May The Moon’s Silvery Beams by @pynkhues

Emma hums in agreement, and Rio turns her around to sit her on the counter, grabbing one of the older looking boxes of muesli while she kicks her legs out, heels bumping back against the counter, watching him. He gropes around the inside of the box, finally just opting to pull the plastic cereal bag out and peering inside. He can’t quite keep the grin off his face when he sees the wad of cash lining the bottom. This woman kills him, she really does.

Then there’s a little face peering up beside him, trying to peek into the box.

“What is it?” she asks, and he tilts the box sideways so she can see inside.

The upside to not getting here until s3 is that old fic is new to me! Huzzah!! Idk how many of y’all have already read this on but if you haven’t I highkey recommend. Extremely cute take on what if Emma woke up when Rio and came by to collect his/Beth’s/whoever's money during the shutdown. Cannot believe I’m reccing kidfic. Witchcraft!!!!!!

Maybe You’re My Fantasy by ohmisterjapan

He fucking loves the involuntary. It speaks to how he likes to unlock chaos and walk away. He's been called a control freak before and it felt like such a misunderstanding of him - he's all about self control but he doesn't want to control others. It's more that he enjoys revealing to them how little they can control themselves. It's more that he likes to stand still in the eye of someone else's storm and pick coldly through the wreckage.

Another oldie but a goodie. This fic is more like an extended character study (first chapter Rio POV, second chapter Beth) and I LIVE FOR THIS KIND OF SHIT. I really really really love the take on both characters, it really digs in and pulls out some nuances that made me sit and think about my own read of them and I love it.

A Shock Of Blue by mintletters16

“You don’t look very well. Would you… like me to get you a glass of water or something?”

Her voice is low but smooth, laced with a softness that cuts straight though to his core. Strawberry blonde locks fall gently just above the pair of magnets freezing him in place.

He can still feel the chaos tearing through his veins - emanating from the gold plated gun stuffed in his waistband - and suddenly he can’t be here anymore. Can’t meet this wide-eyed gaze that’s been locked on his for the past God-knows-how-long anymore.

Can’t see blue alive and concerned when he just left it cold and void somewhere in oblivion.

She’s looking at him like he’s on the brink of madness. He thinks maybe he is.

Apparently, it’s backlist rec day over here and I’m not sorry. This one is another technical WIP but the chapter works as a standalone (BUT if the author decided to return to it I WOULD NOT BE MAD). It’s a what if Beth and Rio met pre-canon and it works so!!! well!!!! The tension and fascination and build are all *chef’s kiss* plus the writing is gorgeous and lyrical and ugh, I love it.

for a moment we were strangers by openhearts

“We got stuff,” Rio motions with a nod to the backpack Beth hadn’t noticed when they arrived hanging on the back of one of the chairs at the island.

She swallows and turns back to the dishes, realizing Rio apparently means to sleep there , assuming the place isn’t bugged. Or for some kind of cover story if it is. She turns and fixes Rio with a narrow-eyed stare, studying his face, the corner of his jaw especially prominent from the angle she’s looking up at him. He’s methodical about drying each dish and setting it back on the rack, maddeningly ignoring her hard stare, so when he goes to take the next plate from her hands she grips it tightly and gets his attention.

“Hey.”

“What you on about now?” he asks, irritated.

It gets her gut uneasy, how he’s just . . . there, settling in, in ways he never had before, no matter how nonchalantly he would let himself in through her locked doors.

“This is,” Beth tries, failing, to find words for it, “. . . it’s weird .”

This one takes place post 204 and Rio and Marcus end up spending a long weekend staying with Beth and Emma for reasons (that work, for the record, I’m just not trying to summarize rn) and it’s domestic and cute but honestly my fav part of it is how weirded out Beth is by how easily they slip into sync. The story does an excellent job balancing where they are in canon (uneasy post-sex truce) with a snapshot of what they could be if they got over themselves (HA! as if) and Beth is DEEPLY FREAKED which makes her slow slide into realizing she could maybe sort of kind of oh shit like it/him??? that much more satisfying.

Not So Careful by @bensonstablers

When he doesn’t answer, her eyes go to his but he’s too busy watching the letter opener which is still pressed against the back of his hand. Curiously, Beth runs it up his arm, careful not to press too hard, and smiles a little as he shivers. Pulling her leg up onto the bed, she shuffles closer to him before pressing the tip of the sword to his chest and slowly circling his left nipple with it, being sure not to get too close.

“You ain’t gotta be that careful.”

And when she lifts her eyes to meet his, he’s got that look. The one that always makes a lump form in her throat and for her to fall back into bed with him without a single thought of what they have to do that day. Only thing is, this time they’ve got nothing to do for the rest of the weekend and well, staying in bed the entire time had seemed like an appealing idea so she allows herself to give in a little to that look.

It makes me EXTREMELY SAD that knifeplay ranked so low on the kink survey so I’m gonna need y’all to check out this V V V EXCELLENT example of it and come back and tell me you’re sorry and you voted wrong. I am v reasonable what are you talking about.

love (where it wasn’t supposed to be) by @lilliloves

"You know what I can't stand?" Rio asks, stepping closer. It's a rhetorical question but he pauses for a second and watches Dean sniff, watches a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead, watches him shift on both his feet as he contemplates making a run for it.

"A guy who don’t realize how good he's got it." Rio continues, looking Dean up and down in disgust. "A guy that will literally fuck up a good thing just to get his dick wet."

"Yeah, well I can't stand a guy who can have anyone he wants but chooses the married woman he's not entitled to.” Dean shoots back. "And I really can't stand the fact that you're always in the room with us even when you aren't there."

And who brings him into the room Dean hmmmmm????? Jk, jk (or am I). In this one Rio catches Dean out on the town with another woman (bc of course he is) and tries to call him out but whoops! gets called out himself. I really love the like, idk, undercurrent of wistful regret in this fic. I love Dean straight up calling Rio out on his feelings (spoilers but there’s an exchange right after this one that made me straight up holler), and, you know, obvs I am here for Rio making Dean feel like an ass.

Hell Is Other People by makemanybraver

Rio: We're in Hell, Elizabeth! If you don't think you belong here, then repent! Don't fuck everyone in the room in hopes that you get to go out!

Beth: Why do I have to repent?!

Rio: Because you did some fucked up shit in your life, Elizabeth! You keep doing fucked up shit here, too! And you think you don't belong here!

Beth [screaming at the top of her lungs]: Because I don't!

This fic is existentially bonkers and I love it. It’s the kind of experimental format/homage/what have you kind of thing that I L O V E. Based on No Exit by Jean-Paul Sartre, Beth, Rio, and Fitzpatrick are stuck together in a room in hell for all eternity. What more do you need, honestly.

Working On Things by odenkirk

Unknown Hold up, Elizabeth. I'm really thinkin about you here.

Beth turned her face into the pillow, effectively suffocating herself for a moment, but thinking it was a good trade off for the way the cool silk of her pillowcase chilled her skin.

She lifted her head to glance at the still sleeping Dean before replying.

Beth I'm thinking about you too. But this can't happen.

She wanted him to know she wanted him, but she also thought that admitting she was already there would save Rio from trying to convince her. She wanted him, but morals had to win just once in a while.

YES this is technically Beth/Dean while also being Beth/Rio BUT it’s also sort of Rio/Dean and I am HERE FOR THE DIVERSITY OF SHIPPING leave me alone who asked you.

Five Times He Knew What She Was Thinking, and One Time He Didn't by JoeyLee

Aight, so tell ‘em I was hittin’ it. Said deliberately blunt, eyes locked on her face the whole time, just to see those blue eyes widen. She looked so shocked that he almost laughed, so he softened it teasingly just to keep her going. Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart, tell ‘em we were makin’ love.

Then he just watched her, just watched her face, just fucking fascinated. Her lips were parted and her eyes were big as saucers, and…there it was. Before she could look away flustered, he watched the thought go through her mind. Him and her together.

He wondered what she was picturing or where. Them in the back seat, her bed, a motel? Her on top or him from behind or his face between her legs?

Whatever it was, the blush started immediately, and he watched it bloom out from her cheeks to her hair. Then she was tearing her eyes away to gulp a little. But it didn’t knock her down for long before she was looking back. And then, wait, was she actually asking him how to go about telling a fed they were fucking?

Okay this is another technical WIP but works as a standalone. I am absolutely fucking feral for character POV takes of canon scenes and this is a supremely excellent take on Rio POV of some notable scenes from the pilot through 204. Imo it brilliantly captures Rio’s voice and I love it a lot.

HEADS UP I am absolute shite at tracking ao3 to tumblr unless people have specifically told me someone’s ao3/tumblr name SO if you recognize any of the non-tumblr authors on please lmk so I can tag them and YES I recognize that I am asking y’all to do things for me throughout this entire post and I’M SORRY OKAY I’M A WHOLE ASS MESS LOVE YOU BYE

#brio fic #brio fanfiction #good girls fanfiction #fic recs #anon #asks #gg disk horse #i feel like i had jokes i wanted to make in the tags but now that im here i've totally forgotten them #ANYWAY the important takeaway here is #tell me what you like and why i want to know okay #send me recs #ME ME ME #hahahahaha jk #sort of

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kiara-carrera · 3 years

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what do you think you're most excited to write about for any of your grishaverse ocs ( or all of them hehehe ) !!

oo i'm going to do a scene for each (you know most of these already, but oh well, you're getting some more detail haha) (also soc book spoilers below for isolde)

shreya

the post ryevost scene

so shreya helped alina flee the little palace but when alina got sighted, shreya basically bought alina more time to get away, but it led to her getting caught

she's brought back to the darkling and he is pissed

she was one of his, like, star pupils so he's thrown for a loop that she would betray him

but the rose colored glasses are officially off and she no longer has any illusions about the type of person he is

there's just like a really intense discussion between them where her life basically gets threatened and he's like i'm so disappointed in you, you were going to help change the world and she is just DONE

like she's so sick of him spouting that line and she ends up pretty much telling him that alina is a lot smarter and stronger than he thinks and shreya vows to help her burn his kingdom to the ground

natalya

the fjerdan attack on the tracking camp

she's dead asleep when it happens, most of the others are outside getting ambushed

one of the fjerdans ends up dragging her out of her tent and she's kicking and screaming and is absolutely terrified

like this is not what she signed up for at ALL

like she's pretty much waiting for the end

the others get the drop on the person attacking her and help her up but she's fucking TERRFIED

so cue the even more intense attack, mal's down, the rest of the team is getting killed and she's like struggling once again

she ends up making the last killing shot on one of the fjerdans and it rocks her to her core because she's never had to shoot someone before

like if mal wasn't on the verge of fucking croaking right then and there, she might have just curled up into a ball right there

isolde

(we know v little about tidemakers so i'm just gonna create my own canon here but also the darkling's short story showed a tidemaker doing things with ice so this is valid idc)

when they're in fjerda heading towards the ice court and they get attacked by those grisha hopped up on parem??

isolde is NOT having it

anyways, ice is just water in another form, so girly just like,,,goes off

matthias is literally standing there like 👀 because one, that's his homeland ice and two, did she just melt down this patch off ice, bring it up in like a tidal wave motion and end up refreezing it to stab these two grisha with little icicles?

he's already a little wary of her but she just sorta unleashes some badass tidemaking

nina's just happy to see her doing grisha things

kaz is unimpressed as always, but inside you know he's like ...remind me not to make her too mad

like just picture something out of katara's little showdown with pakku in that one episode of atla

isolde is like NO ONE TRIES TO MURDER MY GROUP OF FRIENDS AND TAG ALONG FJERDAN WHILE ON A DRUG HIGH

#asks #shreya batra #natalya novikov #isolde haskell #joey tag

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offtopicoverload · 3 years

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Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 8 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome work!

Thank you so much for the tag @kittidot, I’m honored you thought of me, you’re such a lovely person (also thank you for Run! i adore it so much)

I’m still pretty new, but I think I’ve done a decent amount in such little time, so here’s a few things that stuck out in my mind from the past four and a half months

1. For Real - It’s by far my most popular work (idk when, but recently it hit 50 kudos, which. what the actual fuck) and has been really fun to work on. I have a habit of writing way more than I planned, and For Real’s fallen victim to this, too. I meant for it to be a one shot, then maybe 3 chapters, then a 4th, and now it’s going to be very long with a lot of post villa, but I love the chance to expand on Priya and Hazel, so you’re stuck with them for a while

2. ~grumpy marisol~ - I am by no means an artist, but I’m trying my best, okay? I’m really bad at sitting down and spending time drawing when it’s not absolutely perfect, but I think it turned out better than most things I’ve drawn, even if it’s not by much, so I’ll take the win lmao

3. Repairs - I love the angst and the pining, and writing Erikah of all characters has been really fun. It’s definitely different from most of my works, but in the best way possible. It’s just two chapters with very little plot and an absurd amount of metaphors, and I’m stupid proud of it, especially chapter 1

4. Wildfire - Similar to Repairs, it’s just one long metaphor that’s definitely incredibly excessive. But I like writing feelings and angst and Wildfire was a blast for me. It was a prompt sent in by @kittidot, the super dope person that has tagged me for this, and was my first time writing Hannah. I doubt I would have ever chosen the prompt myself, but it was so perfect for the hopelessly romantic person that is Hannah, so thank you @kittidot for sending it

5. Disney Princess - I never really thought about writing for Aurora, nor did I think I’d be doing a series for Choices, but here we are. It’s right up my alley - following canon events but with a twist to relationships - and I’m pretty happy with what I’ve come up with so far. Plus, I absolutely adore writing grumpy characters, and that’s about all Aurora is. @bubblelaureno was awesome enough to ask me if I’d ever write Aurora a while back, so you only have her to blame for it

6. Bad at Sleeping Alone - A Queen B one shot that was my second venture into writing Choices, and definitely got me more into it. I thought it’d be a bit shorter than it was, but I’m not even mad at it. It’s cute and fun and has some angst, and those are my favourite things to write, so it fits pretty well in my portfolio

7. MCs - Doesn’t quite fit with the rest, but instead of writing this past week or so (i hate course work) I’ve been developing my MCs and their stories a ton, and a while ago I made picrews of all my LITG girlies because I’m obsessed with them, as well as dropped surnames while I work on proper profiles. I know no one cares, but I adore them, so here they are

8. Bowl of Cherries - I don’t know why I love this one so much, but I really do. Sage is probably one of my favourite MCs I’ve written, and Cherry’s never been my go to, but I loved getting to try something new for her. I’m also stupid proud of the closing line, and it’s the only reason I didn’t resolve it and now have to figure out a second part. I have no regrets.

tagging, if you haven't been already and are down, @bubblelaureno @chichiguitarist123 @monaownsmyass @bubblybabynailpolish @lilithlibrxa @deuchess @venueska cuz you’re all super awesome and talented and fantastic and holy shit how am i mutuals with you??

#thank you so much for the tag <3<3<3<3<3 #this was so wholesome i loved it #can it kc #i had to search on web and found that im the only one who uses that tag sooooo #take that tumblr search

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drawlfoy · 5 years

Text

Fixed

masterlist

request guidelines

requests are open as usualllll

pairing: draco x slytherin!reader

request: yes! i’m combining 2 slytherin!reader requests because they’re rather similar and i feel weird putting two nearly identical ones out, but i swear the storylines aren’t altered.

summary: draco has a teasing relationship with the reader--they playfully argue and go back and forth but never acknowledge the fact that there may be something more. draco notices her pulling back and becoming more reserved. he follows her out of the dining hall one day to find her having a breakdown over a dark secret.

warnings: breakdown (and not the dancing kind), if the summary didn’t already explain that. swearing and potentially suggestive argumentation. also ooc draco and i say “fuck you” to canon in this one

a/n: this is the first time i’m merged two requests together, so i’m feeling a little wacky but i hope it turns out to what you guys wanted! i’m so so lucky to have readers. i’d love any comments that you may have on my work, even if they’re constructive criticism!

music recs: peach pit is what comes to mind but i’m listening to scary stories as i write this lol because i live on the edgeeeeeee

word count: 2,924

Y/N was an organized girl, no doubt about it. So organized, in fact, that she never lost anything, and she most certainly never lost track of her wand.

So when she noticed in Charms that her wand was not stowed away in her cloak pocket, she immediately knew who did it.

Without even as much as a hello, Y/N strode over to her “friend” and fellow house member Draco Malfoy and shoved her hand into his pocket, wiggling it around.

“At least buy me dinner first.” Draco had started at the sudden sensation, but once he smelled the perfume of the witch behind him, he knew exactly who it was, not bothering to give her much of a reaction.

Y/N fished around his pockets for a bit before grabbing his shoulder and yanking him around.

“Where is my wand, Draco? I know you have it.”

He smirked evilly down at her, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart.”

“Yes, you do!” She pulled him towards her by his green and silver tie, trying to look as menacing as possible. “I swear to god, Draco, I’m gonna hex you into oblivion if you don’t give it back.”

“With what wand?” He laughed. “And let’s be real here, Y/N, you wouldn’t anyways. You love me too much.”

Y/N’s cheeks grew red at the suggestion.

“As if, Draco! Give me my wand back, or I’ll throttle you with my bare hands!”

“Ooh, kinky.”

She let go of his tie, shoving him away. Who was he to suggest these things to her? He’d never been interested as long as she could remember--no matter how many subtle hints she’d dropped, he remained oblivious, instead choosing Pansy’s incessant fawning.

Pretending like it didn’t hurt when he was ignoring her was easy. Pretending it didn’t hurt when he was inches away from her face and fake flirting with her was a whole other deal.

“Give me my wand, you git,” she commanded, holding her hand out. Perhaps if she was animated with her hands, he wouldn’t notice her blush.

Draco raised an eyebrow, one side of his lip rising along with it.

“Ask nicely.”

“May I please have my wand back?” she spat, each word filling her mouth with venom.

“We could work on your tone a tad, but I guess I might as well,” he responded, nonchalant and ignorant of the searing look she sent him. Digging through his satchel, he retrieved her wand, pressing it into her hand.

Y/N sent him a syrupy sweet smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. In the corner of her vision, she could see Pansy watching her with a sour look on her face.

She was never one to disappoint an audience.

“Thank you, Draco,” she cooed, taking a complete 180 from her previous demeanor. Throwing all caution to the wind, she stood up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

When she settled back down to her usual height, she noticed that his eyebrow was still arched, but his evil look was replaced with one of inquisitiveness.

“I knew you were in love with me,” he crooned.

“No, I’m just a big fan of charity work,” she shot back, spinning around and walking back to her desk.

It was, after all, just another Tuesday.

♥♥♥♥

“Are you still hopelessly obsessed with Draco?”

“Huh?” Y/N diverting her attention from her studies to what her roommate, Millicent, had just asked her. “Sorry, I was deep in a passage and didn’t catch that.”

Millicent rolled her eyes, crossing her legs on her bed.

“I asked, are you still into Draco? I remember you talking about him in 4th year when we were getting dates for the Yule Ball arranged.”

“Oh.” Y/N let her eyes fall back onto her textbook. “I don’t know, Mills. I think he’s kind of an arse. He totally knew that I was into him and asked Pansy instead.”

Millicent chuckled sourly at that.

“Yeah, he was kind of immature back then,” she offered, resting her chin in her hand. “But, I don’t know, don’t you think that you guys have chemistry?”

Y/N thought for a few moments.

“I can’t say,” she responded. “But chemistry doesn’t really mean anything if they don’t care about you, you know? I think he messes with me just so he can feel like I’m still on the hook.”

“How do you know that?”

“How do I know that he’s just using me?” Y/N rolled her quill over in her hands a few times. “I can’t say for sure, but I’m normally good at reading these situations and I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

“So you’re saying that you do have hopes that he’s interested?” Y/N didn’t have to turn to know that her roommate was plotting.

“I’m saying that I really don’t have time to be worrying about it right now,” Y/N opined.

Before she knew it, a hand was taking her quill out of her hand and closing her textbook.

“Hey! You can’t--”

“It’s been too long, Y/N,” Millicent whined. “We need to have a good gossip, and now that midterms are over, we can catch up. Please?”

Y/N couldn’t help a smile from creeping into her stony expression. While she had had reservations about her roommate at first, she soon learned that they brought the best out in each other.

“Okay, okay, but I’m not making any rash decisions, alright?”

“And when would I ever let you do that anyways?”

They both erupted in giggles while Y/N allowed her friend to pull her onto the bed.

“So, for starters,” Millicent began. “I heard that Draco and Pansy are going through a rough patch right now.”

“And who did you hear that from?”

“Irrelevant. But if you care, Blaise, and Theo confirmed it as well. And I would’ve found out without their help...they’re acting weird. Pansy looks like she’s ready to slit his throat at a moment’s notice, if you haven’t been paying any attention for the past 4 hours.”

Y/N laughed nervously. Of course she had noticed...but she didn’t want anyone to realize how much she actually cared.

“Yikes, I hope they figure that out. Their parents are going to be mad if they break up, right?”

“No, probably not. His parents really want him to end up with a Greengrass...something about settling a deal from a few generations ago.”

“Oh.” Y/N swallowed any other hope that she had left. “That sucks for Pansy. I know how much she likes him.”

Millicent paused for a moment, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t act like you haven’t been feeling bad as well,” she said, her tone softening. “I’ve noticed the pain in your eyes whenever you see them together.”

“And it doesn’t help when he seeks me out to mess with me!” Y/N exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “I try so, so hard to forget about him and pretend like he doesn’t matter to me, but he finds all of these ways to keep butting back into my life and it always works...”

Her roommate began rubbing her back, allowing the few tears being shed to fall in peace.

“You’re worth so much, Y/N,” she told her firmly. “And unless I’m wrong, which we know is impossible, I think he kind of likes you too.”

“I don’t think you understand, though,” Y/N whispered. “Why would I ever want to be with someone who thinks of me as a second choice?”

Millicent was silent for a few breaths.

“Yeah. Maybe his parents pushed him to date her, though? Maybe he has a good excuse?”

“I don’t know, Mills. I’m just not going to think about it anymore, alright?”

♥♥♥♥

Draco was sitting across the breakfast table from Y/N, watching her sip her tea, waiting for the moment to throw another comment her way.

The screech of owls interrupted his thought process, signaling that the morning post had arrived. A snowy owl landed gracefully next to Y/N’s plate, bearing a letter with a red wax seal on the back.

She shook herself out of her daydreams--she had been up late the night before cramming for an exam and had burnt through an entire candle. Stroking her owl, she whispered a genuine thank you and instructed it to fly on home.

Y/N picked up the letter, fingering the parchment. It was clearly from her parents--the wax seal bore the mark of her family’s crest. Confused, she ripped open the envelope and began skimming the letter.

Oh, no. Oh, no.

Her vision began to blur as she folded the parchment up, shoving it back into her pocket.

“Hey Y/N, what’s going--”

Before Draco could finish his sentence, she was already halfway down the aisle, moving quickly to the exit. He watched her go, wishing that he could follow but knowing that it wasn’t a good idea with the tension regarding Pansy.

It was high time to break up with her anyways--no reason to keep up appearances when he didn’t desire her.

♥♥♥♥

As the week went by, Draco noticed more and more changes in Y/N’s demeanor. She was eating less and spacing out more. Her skirt was wrinkled on Friday, something that rarely ever happened, and she was no longer sending him bitter remarks in response to his flirty ones. On Saturday, she stayed in her dorm instead of joining her friends for a day in Hogsmeade, something he had never seen her miss before.

Something was clearly wrong with Y/N, and for some reason, this twisted something in his chest more than breaking up with Pansy did. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw her messing around in the common room, either. It was unnerving, really. The witch had no business worrying him like that.

So, when he passed by her during a free period and saw her walking ahead of him, he made the executive decision to finally do something.

“Y/N!” he yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify the sound. “Y/N, wait!”

She halted, turning around slowly. When she saw who had called her name, she stiffened and made to continue on her path.

Draco, anticipating such a reaction, had already begun to jog towards her, lightly pushing past the rest of the students going the same direction.

“Y/N! Please, I need to talk to you!”

She picked up the pace, but Draco’s long legs caught up to her as he slipped a hand into the crook of her arm, startling her.

“What do you wa--”

“Can I please talk to you? It’ll just take a second. I promise.”

Her expression was unreadable, but he could tell that she was considering her options.

“Fine,” she finally said. “What is it?”

“Not here,” Draco quickly said. “Somewhere private. The common room, maybe?”

“If you wanted to off me, I doubt anyone would notice if you did it right here,” Y/N said, waving her hand dismissively. “But if you would really like to talk there, then I guess I’ll comply.”

Without another word, Draco led her down to the dungeons, keeping his hand tucked in her arm, not trusting her to stick by him. It felt strange--normally he was the one holding his arm out, but then again, this entire situation was out of character for him.

Once they had reached the common room, Draco waved his wand and lit the fire, sitting down in front of the couch to watch the green flames lick the stone.

“Sit,” he instructed, patting the space on the couch next to him.

Surprisingly, Y/N did as she was told, folding her legs up on the couch and sending Draco a death stare.

“Get on with it.”

“I just...I wanted to make sure that you were alright,” Draco faltered. Playing therapist was not something he had experience with. “I’ve noticed you acting strange since you got that letter at breakfast and it’s making me worry. Can you just tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it and we can be normal again?”

Y/N was silent for a while.

“You can’t fix this. Not this time. I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean I can’t? Just tell me, Y/N, please.”

Silence again...except for something else. Draco stole a glance at Y/N and was stunned to see the firelight illuminate tears rolling down her face.

“Oh, no, Y/N, what’s wrong?”

The question only made her gasps for air louder as Y/N curled herself into a ball.

“I’m sorry,” she managed. “You should go. You can come back later when I’m calmer, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t apologize,” Draco murmured, bringing up a hand to steady her shoulder. “Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll make it better, alright?”

“My parents are forcing me into an arranged marriage,” she whispered, hugging her knees to her chest. “He goes to Durmstrang. I hate him. They offered my hand in marriage because they want his father to be more amiable to mine in this business deal, and since I’ve never been in a relationship, they think it’s the only chance I have anyways at finding a life partner.”

The sobs had stopped. Her tears fell silently now, staining the whites of her sleeves.

Draco himself had to process the information. Y/N, married to someone else? No, he never could’ve imagined that.

Without anything particularly useful to say, Draco just opened his arms.

“C’mere,” he awkwardly mumbled.

Y/N studied him for a few seconds.

“I’m going to get snot on your shirt.”

“I don’t care.”

With that settled, Y/N released her knees from her hold, instead crawling into his lap. He stroked her hair as she wept into his shirt and clung to him.

Oh, how this was embarrassing for her. She supposed that there was a reason why her parents were so desperate to accept an offer for her hand.

Draco suddenly stopped, moving his hands to tap her shoulder.

“Y/N,” he began, “Would they make you marry him if you were already in a relationship?”

She sat up, blowing her nose into her handkerchief before answering.

“No, probably not. Why?”

“Well...” He pondered for a second, wondering if he was really going to be brave enough to say what he wanted to. “What if I was in the picture? They wouldn’t care to pass you off to some random Durmstrang boy if you had a Malfoy instead, right?”

Y/N stared at him.

“Er... probably not. That’s nice wishful thinking there, Draco.”

“I’m being serious!” He wasn’t expecting it to go this direction.

“How do I know that you’re not joking?” she queried, scootching further away from him and trying to ignore the pain that flashed across his eyes.

“I let you cry all over my dress shirt,” he reminded her, motioning to the stains on his chest. “Do you think I’d do that for any girl?”

Y/N just shrugged, hiccuping once before she stuffed her handkerchief back into her pocket.

“I wouldn’t.” Draco answered his own question, reaching up to gingerly brush her hair out of her eyes. “I know it must be weird seeing me with Pansy.”

“Yeah, no shit,” she mumbled. “I didn’t even think about that. My disbelief was due to the fact that you’ve never been interested.”

Draco flinched.

“I don’t think you’re completely right there,” he said, his hand pausing to cup her face.

“Are you forgetting the Yule Ball ordeal? How you knew how much I liked you but you still went with Pansy instead?”

“You don’t understand,” he responded hastily. “I didn’t know--I was 14 and an idiot. I couldn’t tell if you liked me or not and I knew that she did, so I wasn’t afraid.”

“And so you dated her for another 2 years?” Y/N answered in disbelief, seemingly forgetting the fact that she had just been crying her eyes out.

“At first it was to make you jealous,” Draco explained. “But then Pansy’s parents began to expect a lot out of us, and I was waiting for the right time to break it off, and it just didn’t....ever come around.”

Draco jumped as Y/N smacked his shoulder.

“You’re an idiot,” she snapped.

“I know.” Draco gulped. “And I’m sorry about that, Y/N, I really am. Let me make it up to you. Owl your parents and tell them that you had forgotten to mention that you’re already in a serious relationship with me.”

He curled an arm around her waist, highlighting the fact that while she wasn’t lying on his chest, she was still nestled into him.

“Under one condition,” Y/N told him, an elvish glint in her eyes.

“Yes?” He reached up his free hand to boop the tip of her nose.

“What was that?!” Y/N jerked her face away from his.

Draco smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry, I’ve always wanted to do that. You were saying?”

Her mouth was parted slightly in confusion as her brain tried to recall what she was about to say.

“I--just don’t be a pill, Draco, alright?”

“C’mon now, when have I ever been one?” He smirked down at her, wearing the expression that he adopted whenever they teased each other in class.

Y/N was trying her hardest to stay composed, but a genuine smile fought its way onto her face. It only widened when Draco leaned forward, pressing his lips to her forehead.

Pulling away, he uttered the words that would lead to her lightly smacking him on the shoulder again:

“I told you I could fix it.”

final a/n: kindaaaaaaa mad that i took on this request at this point because i totally could’ve turned this into a series where the reader and draco don’t admit feelings this early and instead decide to “fake date” so both parents would be happy but i have a lifeeeee grossssss

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