#(rereading desperado)

[apricusapollo]

people who say that miscommunication trope is bad clearly have never read desperado by verbrennung 🤷🏻‍♀️

[frostbitepandaaaaa]

rebelcaptain + 📆, 💯, 😭

sissi!!!! omg hi <3

📆 A fic you’d re-read 10 years from now

i feel like this is unfair because there are SO MANY and honestly there are fics that i read 10 years ago that i have definitely reread like close to yearly! i know that you said rebelcaptain.......... BUT walk with me for a second.

first and foremost if anyone here has sat still long enough in my presence i have probably told you about Parabiosis by Penumbra (x files, mulder/scully). definitely the single most influential and life-altering fic for me. i am actually i nthe middle of a reread right now.

snippet:

Outside he boiled water over the minute canister stove, and made instant coffee from a foil packet dented by bear's teeth. He carried his cup around the gully in the fog, gleaning dead wood. He imagined that he was some kind of desperado and Scully was his feisty little gun moll. They hid out in the high places and life was pure and as simple as keeping the campfire small and not silhouetting oneself on the ridge line. He had to admit to himself that he would manage to complicate any life he inhabited. Scully would be the first to point out that he was not a peaceable being. He built a campfire purely for the pleasure of watching her stand over it, warming her hands in the smoke. She gripped a cup of coffee and wore the shell-shocked stare of the newly-awoken. She had a pillow crease in her cheek and long underwear on under her jeans. She was damp, diaphanous, bed-haired early-morning gorgeous, and Mulder felt a kind of religious awe that his life contained this moment.

from the Mad Max: Fury Road (max/furiosa) side of things, Glow by @sacrificethemtothesquid is a reread for me almost routinely. this is what inspired Such a Being Within. it's just so intense and beautiful.

snippet:

“Drink something,” she chokes out, because it’s the first thing that pops into her head. “ Now . Do it.”

“Did,” he says, and gestures to the car.

“ Again ,” she snaps, and he reaches into the window to grab his canteen. She watches as he takes a few short, careful swallows, and it’s the most gorgeous sight she’s ever seen. She’s seen him naked, seen him above and below her, seen him unravelled by her own five fingers, but she has never felt as wild and enraptured as she does right now.

There’s water glistening in the stubble above his lip, and she’s riding the hard edge of hysteria. The relief expands in her lungs like a bubble of choking gas, and then he’s saying, “Hey... hey ,” and her face is pressed into his neck, into the stale, damp, utterly beloved scent of him, and she draws in one long shaky breath like the addict she is, and can’t stop.

“Don’t,” is all she can gasp out. “Don’t. Don’t ever- ”

as for rebelcaptain there are many, many candidates but i feel ike From Niamos, With Love by @princessniitza has got to be it. I've already read it about 5 times.

snippet:

“Are you okay?” he asked, almost snapped, and when he reached her his left hand rose at once to cradle the side of her face so he could check her head, her eyes.

She stared at him in realization: he’d been the one shooting the gangsters from the roof. He hadn’t left. He hadn’t run. Instead—

His hand had left her face to trail down her arm and nudge against her ribs, looking for bruises or broken bones. She caught it in hers, stopping it at her waist, and choked, “You came back.”

At that, he glanced back up, and the look in his eyes…

She kissed him, or he kissed her, she didn’t know, didn’t care. She kissed him almost savagely, drawing blood—or it might just have been her blood, already spilled. She’d split her lip again.

“Keef—" she started when they parted.

“Cassian,” he said, interrupting her. “My name is Cassian.”

💯 A fic that makes you think #writergoals

i mean... any of those fics i just recc'd above. honestly, anything i read that i fall in love with... that's kind of a requisite feeling. anything that @melyzard has ever written. the amount of detail and the way she writes just makes me wail in pain, love and envy.

Love is a Verb particularly.

snippet:

Cassian has read every piece of information he could get on the daughter. Erso’s daughter, the last viable route that the Empire has to a weapon that makes the Analysis department wring their hands anxiously and the senior agents in Intelligence pace through the temple halls like an axe hangs over their heads. She’s a criminal, an opportunist merc, a loner, and perilous with a weapon (although that last part is based more on hearsay from various other thieves, criminals, and mercs that he talked to as he hunted through the stars for her).  She grew up in a rebel group increasingly known throughout the galaxy for it's brutality. She’s spent the last six months in a high-security Imperial work prison, her wrists are still in shackles, and even from halfway across the room Cassian can see how her rough clothes hang off her underfed frame.

So when she raises her chin and speaks to the leaders of the Alliance like she’s a general meeting them on her own terms, like she has some kind of choice to walk away from this table if she doesn’t like the bargain they offer, Cassian finds himself mildly impressed.

😭 A fic that ripped your heart out (but it hurt so good)

oh fuck off sissi you know the answer to this one.

tragedy in your blood by YOU!!!!! i distinctly remember the first time i read this... i was in bed and then i had to get out of bed and wash my face because i thought i was slick and thought i could hide my tears from my husband but that wasn't actually true. it's just SO GOOD and they LOVE EACH SO MUCH FUCK. even just thinking about it makes my eyes burn and my chest tighten FUCK.

snippet:

“You were shot in the leg and captured. They gave you some psychoactive drug to question you. You were high when we found you, and it only made your injury worse. Jyn, I…” His eyes drop to the floor and refuses to meet hers again. A knot forms in her stomach at the tone of his voice. Strangled with fear and grief. “I have to tell you something.”

And some part of her already knows.

Because he’s not here. And he should be.

“Where’s Cassian?” she asks without inflection, eerily calm for the situation.

Bodhi said — didn’t he say he’d be here? She’s almost certain she didn’t imagine that.

He should be here. He would be here, if she had nearly died, if she had nearly lost her leg…

Cassian would be by her side through it all. Unless he couldn’t, unless —

brb WAILING INTO THE VOID

send me an ask and i'll rec a fic!

[xxmothangelxx]

I was gonna make this a Shady Rambles Dislyte but I'm too tired to say anything of note lol

I really miss when Dislyte stories were like... peak, say what you want about the original story mode, but at least the event stories were really good! Stories like Truth Unveiled, Dusk and Dawn, Dream of Redemption, Sea of Sorrow... even the simpler ones like Desperado were really good! Emotional and well written stories that actually seemed like they had some effort and care put into them.

I guess I can't talk because I missed most of them, but I've been rereading the events I missed (specifically everything after Valeria's) and tbh aside from Hilda's story none of it is clicking for me rn :/ it all feels like it's lost some sort of spark that made me love the previous event stories so much

And based on the bs they just pulled with the retconned story mode, AND the steaming pile of mid that was Cellblock Chaos, they better come in hot with the next event story because rn I'm regretting my decision to return to this game

[aworldforastage]

2023 Q2 Reading Recap: Personal Favorites

(Art for audio adaptations of Blazing Armour (audiobook), Top Flower Vase of the Mainland Entertainment Industry, and Spoil)

I finished 14 titles between April and June, which is a surprise because I had a really hard time finishing novels these last few months. This post will cover six personal favorites:

Blazing Armor / 火焰戎装 by 水千丞

Nei Yu Di Yi Hua Ping (Top Flower Vase of the Mainland Entertainment Industry) / 内娱第一花瓶 by 三三娘

Placid Chang’an / 太平长安 by 盐盐Yany

The Retirement Life of a Runaway Desperado / 亡命之徒的退休生涯 by FOX

Wilderness Vegetation / 荒野植被 by 麦香鸡呢

Zuo Jian (Spoil) / 作践 by 十步方寒

火焰戎装/Blazing Armor by 水千丞

“我都发誓，要带每个人，平安回去。” "I always swore I would bring everyone home, safely home."

Most novels in SQC's 188 series focus on the relationship arc, but Blazing Armor is driven by a tightly-paced and well-researched plot around the protagonist's career as a firefighter. As he races to put out fires and investigate cases of potential arson, he gets to know a rich, smart, and 188cm tall police officer with the face of a movie star and the personality of a craggy rock. They develop a close bond through their work, and decide to reopen a decade-old case that haunts both of them.

My favorite parts of this novel are the details put into Ren Yi's work as a firefighter. We see him handling dozens of sites and accidents big and small, and the inner five-year-old in me is fascinated by the information on different types of firetrucks! The mystery/procedural aspects of the story is also very engaging, though personally I find its resolution a bit underwhelming. As a member of a 188 Club, Gong Yingxian is less of a scum gong and more of a jerk who doesn't think of other people's feelings. Rather than toying with Ren Yi's romantic feelings for him, Gong Yingxian betrays his trust on other important issues (like criminal investigations), and YMMV if that is better or worse.

内娱第一花瓶/Top Flower Vase of the Mainland Entertainment Industry by 三三娘

"我已经做好了为你画一辈子分镜的准备," I am prepared to storyboard for you for the rest of my life.

Ke Yu has a reputation as a "flower vase" who looks pretty and can't act, but he absolutely shines through the lens of Shang Lu, a genius aspiring director. At just under 1 million characters long, this novel takes us through LuYu's first meeting, the gradual development of their relationship, a heart-wrenching breakup, and a deliciously bittersweet reconciliation arc in which they must face the regret and pain sowed by their own actions. Alongside the movie-making, we also get treated to dark secrets, painful backstories, and the rivalries and schemes among the artistic and business elites.

This novel stands out for treating performance and film-making as serious professions that require careful study and hard work. The highlight in this story is the LuYu relationship, but it's through the rich details about their movie-making that convince us Ke Yu and Shang Lu's share a truly special bond built on respect for each other's art and talent. In a few places, the novel made me a bit uncomfortable with its idolization of the wealthy elite, depictions of foreigners and the Chinese diaspora, and female characters repeatedly getting the short end of the stick in the narrative, though this may simply have been me becoming more critical as I revisit the story for rereads.

太平长安/Placid Chang'an by 盐盐Yany

“你既然选择了大理寺，查找真相、还原真相就是你的事，而我身为摄政亲王，稳定朝局，制衡天下是我的事。你做你该做的，剩下的我来处理。” "Since you have chosen to join the Court of Judicial Review, investigating and uncovering the truth is now your duty; I am the Prince Regent, so stabilizing the court and governing the nation is my duty. Do your duty, and I will handle the rest."

Su Cen is the newly-minted Zhuangyuan in the most recent Imperial Exams, but his political career is complicated by the factional rivalry in government. He starts as a lowly administrator with the Court of Judicial Review, and soon shines as a talented investigator with with a sharp intuition and fierce determination. He repeatedly crosses path with the Prince Regent, eventually falling into the Prince's faction at court and his bed at night. As Su Cen continues his work and tries to figure out what kind of public servants he wants to become, he notices something or other always seem to lead back to this secret society and a decade-old cold case....

I really like this novel for its cases and mysteries, as well as for clever handling of several tropes that I generally dislike. The Prince Regent is more powerful and older than his love interest (~ 40 y.o. vs early 20s). This novel does not shy away from how this difference in power, knowledge, and experience generally do not work in Su Cen's favor, even though he also benefits from being doted on, taken care of, and taught by the older and wiser Prince. The ending feels a bit rushed and cartoon-ish compared to the rest of the story. Some of the supporting characters feel a bit flat, but the main relationship and plot mysteries in this novel are very enjoyable.

亡命之徒的退休生涯/The Retirement Life of a Runaway Desperado by FOX^^

"你当父亲当得的确可怕，我不敢相信世界上有人不会热牛奶。" "Your efforts at fatherhood are indeed terrifying. I can not believe there exists people who do not know how to make warm milk."

Detective Lynn and Dr. Arthur are both widower single fathers who settle in a small American town to cope with the loss of their wives. Their daughters become fast friends, which forces them to become co-parents of sorts despite their dislike and distrust of each other. Soon it becomes very hard for Lynn to explain that he and Arthur are not together, even though Arthur is now looking after his child, making his food, picking out his outfits and aftershave.... However, there is a hidden danger in this small town, and Arthur is keeping some important secrets just like Lynn suspects.

This is a short novel at only 12 chapters. The prose is in the style of a translated novel, which can be a bit weird to read. Arthur and Lynn have their secrets and reservations about each other, but that's nothing next to the town's gossip engine or the convenience of keeping their kids in one place. The general atmosphere of the story is dominated by the slow pace of small town life and the frivolity of neighborly gossip, and I enjoy it the most for the domesticity of two jaded men raising their girls together in such a place.

荒野植被/Wilderness Vegetation by 麦香鸡呢

如果可以，谁不想体体面面的，体面地爱人，体面地被爱。 If it's possible, who wouldn't want dignity? To love with dignity, and be loved with dignity.

Xu Yan is still desperately holding onto his lopsided relationship with Shen Zhi at the start of the novel, but changes his mind and leaves by Chapter 5. Shen Zhi communicates so little that it takes him another ten chapters to realize he has been dumped for real. Although he never cheats on Xu Yan or thinks of him like a second-rate backup, Shen Zhi's behavior throughout their relationship is essentially emotional abuse. Despite his sad backstory and genuine feelings for Xu Yan, none of it justifies the harm caused by his behavior, and it's a long and hard road to win Xu Yan back.

It's strange to say it's a "healthy crematorium", but it's one of the few that does not try to justify, retcon, or minimize any bad behaviors. Xu Yan surrounds himself with a support system who reminds him that he deserves a truly nourishing relationship. Shen Zhi, despite his feelings, is actually quite respectful of Xu Yan's rejections and boundaries, and eventually lets Xu Yan go when he realizes how horribly wrong things have gone. Shen Zhi has the maturity to take responsibility for the mental and emotional work to become a better partner. When Xu Yan and Shen Zhi get back together, I believe they can build a good dynamic this time with their growth and maturity.

作践/Spoil by 十步方寒

我把我的心，系在了鸟的覆羽上，让鸟随着梦，把我带向自由的远方。 I tied my heart, onto the feathered wings of a bird, and let the bird follow its dreams, and carry me toward freedom in a faraway land.

Facing the exorbitant medical cost to treat his father's chronic liver failure, Xu Qingzhou agrees to sell "himself" to local entrepreneur Lu Cheng. He is a respectable teacher, husband, and father by day, and a sex slave during his off-hours. Lu Cheng's actions are less about pleasure and more about taking revenge for past actions of Xu Qingzhou's father. Between fear, guilt, and habits, Xu Qingzhou's actions and attitude toward Lu Cheng softens. But as Lu Cheng's controlling tendencies escalate, the delicate balance of Xu Qingzhou's double life begins to fall apart ...

This story is dark and brutally realistic. Innocent people are ruined by the cruelties of reality, while some can live their entire life without facing the consequences of their actions. The narrative touches on a host of social issues like homophobia, wealth inequity, a flawed healthcare system, as well as highlighting the harms caused by some traditional values like blind deference to figures of authority and the stigma attached to sex and sexuality. A true happy ending is impossible in this story, because some mistakes and wounds just cannot be fixed, but the characters do come to terms with the past, and starts on a path forward.

[srfgansey]

gonna be a blue sargent apologist . a thing about blue sargent is that she’s been a non-psychic in a house full of special women her entire life and that she’s constantly put in both a weirdo box and a nonspecial box at very same time by different people in different context in one single person, even when it’s definitely not intentional and was despite it all raised in a loving supporitve household, she still visibly feels quite singled out and bored and lonely. but blue grew up around women and her tendency to alienate herself from women and consider herself above but actually below but actually above other girls is actually quite fitting in the context she grew up in because she was always quite literally is not like the other girls. blue knows if she cannot be naturally distinctive like other women she will actively make herself distinctive. she will convince herself that she’s special. that she’s also a weirdo in the good, special sense. and i think that’s a realistic portrayal of a girl today in relation to the inherent threat of being singled out as specifically unspecial. so we make ourselves special

[paper-girls]

A’s fic recs to cry your heart out to

aka fics i cried over.

hey lads. it’s been a while. so i return with sad stuff! that says a lot about my mental state probably. oh i started uni and it’s been awful. cold pizza is shockingly good. anyway. these are all gonna be angst with a happy ending cause i’m weak and don’t like characters to be sad forever. there’s gotta be a resolution. or maybe some sickly sweet fluff. it’ll be a fun surprise. just read the tags.

fic rec masterlist

sad bois away!

SakuAtsu

The Story of Us by thesweetestnerd

a classic, i know. if you’ve been around for a while you’ve probably at least heard of this one. or i’m biased. anyway it’s a great read. i’ve reread it like five times and i cry every time. i bet you two crisp high fives you’ll cry too. 

Do I dare disturb the universe? by han_ying

have you ever wondered what a different choice would make your life like? have you ever been offered a cookie by a small orange man? no? well kiyoomi gives it a go. take a hard look at your life after this one. 

Quarantine conversations by lettersinpetals

hey covid coping mechanism! how about you incorporate realism! you’d think spending all day every day with someone you love would be heaven yeah? well. sometimes people are emotionally constipated. i’m looking at you kiyoomi. this is a call out post. 

When Atsumu Thinks About Love by GlitchyCookie

stress stress stress and feeling left behind. all things weddings bring. dances are also things that happen at weddings. so do kisses. took my heart out and put it in a bag with broken glass. at least it was polished at the end. 

a soft place to call home (series) by yee_haw23

it’s so funny to me someone called yee_haw23 can deliver such and emotionally devastating series of fics. the one’s about loss and loneliness really get me can you tell. but yeah. being alone is never fun especially when it’s rubbed in your face. 

Bound by internetpistol 

not a bondage fic. shockingly. it is about being bound to someone and something though. and about fate. how something is bound to happen based on your decisions. 

IwaOi

Ruin the Friendship by thesweetestnerd

some things were made to be messed up. like finger paint, tissues, and socks after a long day. what’s important to know is that messing something up is not the end of it, but a change of its’ shape. 

Desperado by Verbrennung

hey kid you wanna read a heist au? what about a getting back together fic? yeah? yeah i got you. crime and love what a perfect combination. honestly, this is one of my personal favourites like ever. i cannot recommend this one enough. i may have also made a playlist inspired by it and if anyone wants it simply ask. 

please disregard my house of cards (built from mistakes) by rekamohcs

softish. gratuitous plant imagery. shenanigans and tomfoolery. and it’s a university au. what more could you ask for. this fic gets a big fuzzy hug from me. and it made me feel things that weren’t necessarily sadness but made me cry nonetheless.

AsaNoya

Vienna Waits For You by Pouler (poulerslashes)

emotionally destroyed me. do not read if you’re not looking to be sad for a few days. or a few hours. depends on how fast you read but the aftermath is certainly long. loss is hard, but sometimes things aren’t as far as you’d think.

BokuAka

Behind Bricks by DeathBelle

it’s been around for a while but still gets me. prostitute au. sometimes plans get changed, for better or for worse. and sometimes things simply fall into place. 

Rules by ConesOfDunshire

also a fan favourite. it’s me i’m fan. i just cannot get over positive depictions of autism. like. it’s not that hard but they went off in this one. do i cry? yeah. sometimes i remember this and go back and read a section of it. it’s not just a fic it’s an investment.

the strange music of your heart by caniculeo

someone’s gotta fall first. who better than akaashi? bokuto is unsure. they work it out. i would like to pack this fic a lunch, give it a little kiss on the forehead, and send it off to school. 

DaiSuga

Black and Blue by MTrash (Makaria)

so first things first this fic has references to abuse so note that down. secondly, everyone lives in the same building but it’s a very gay building. thirdly, yeah i cried reading it sue me. this is my sad fic rec list.

Just Another by Mooifyourecows

so moo is actually a favourite of mine, and if you’re in the market for daisuga content, they have a lot. i love me a good unrequited-love-but-not-actually-it-just-took-some-figuring-out and also emotional constipation breakthrough fic. 

Misery’s Company by Mooifyourecows

i wasn’t lying about loving their content. so take another. but this one has a clever plan that may or may not work. sometimes relationships don’t work and sometimes you gotta fuck with everything to get everything right. 

i for sure have more but i don’t wanna put everything on one lest i overwhelm you. i realize some of the descriptions/reviews sound like tarot/oracle card meanings and i have nothing to say to that. i wrote this whole shebang in one go where the other ones can take days to months. maybe i’m procrastinating studying for exams. i hope you enjoy reading them as much as i did. and feel free to request more. i’ll get around to it eventually. 

go forth and read my dears. 

[idlikeanextrasmall]

Haikyuu!! Fanfiction

(these are just my favorites of favorites compiled into one place, ongoing list)

First, shameless plug:

Gas Leak, graphic dep. of violence, ONGOING!

iwaoi, bokuaka, kuroken, M

this ones mine… its self indulgent. heist fic, hurt/comfort, sort of six of crows au. check it out!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33451945

Alright now my favs:

In Another Life, 23k, major character death

bokuaka, T

its just here bc i cry everytime i read it hahahaha *dies*

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5096105

Where Worlds Collide and Days Are Dark, 42k, major character death/graphic dep. of violence

iwaoi, M

skyfall au and i love action/violence lmao

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5223332

Unravel, 253k, graphic dep. of violence

iwaoi, bokuaka, kuroken, daisuga (equally divided), M

zombie au, very long, insanely action packed, GAH ITS SO GOOD

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14810001

The Loyalty of a Traitor, 76k, graphic dep. of violence

iwaoi, E

mf yakuza au, very intense, also deathbelle ofc

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14810001

Drowning in the Depths, 30k, graphic dep. of violence, ONGOING

bokuaka, M

HAHA pirates also prince akaashi. very good

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26692579

Wild Misadventures, 79k

kuroken, E

this is the only kuroken fic i’ve ever read but it was good so,, kuroo and kenma go on a cabin vacation/adventure

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22321708

Shiver, 16k

iwaoi, T

this is one of the first ones I read I think, it’s been a while but it was stellar

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3413624

Desperado, 82k

iwaoi, M

this felt incomplete without it, tbh this fic: not long enough, rate 11/10

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15735801

Behind Bricks, 60k

bokuaka, E

angst, akaashi is a prostitue, spoiler alert bokuto clocks a guy in the face at one point that’s why I read it (read tags for more pls)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11502159

Night Call, 127k, graphic dep. of violence/rape/non-con, INCOMPLETE

iwaoi, E

ok bigger warnings on this one: there are parts of this that are written really beautifully and the world building is pretty insane. However, it’s stuck at 9/14 chapters and is also heartbreaking. pls read the tags/summary for tw and more info bc it is very intense.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10575888

How Kuroo Found Kenma, 37k

kuroken, E

It’s really cute guys oh my god

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3988276

Moral Ambiguity, 16k

iwaoi, E

gahhh serial killer stuff i reread this one a lot

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17229242

(Don’t) Touch Me, 17k

bokuaka, E

pretty sure this was one of the first haikyuu fics I ever read, anyways angst angst angst but also happy ending :)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9121696

the chrysanthemum looking glass, 75k, graphic dep. of violence, ONGOING

iwaoi, M

this is underrated. anyways royalty au prince oikawa guard iwa you know the drill

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27054028

Symphonic Hearts, 236k

bokuaka, E

ok you have to trust me,, it starts so good and then just keeps getting better. fluff and angst is v well balanced imo (there’s A LOT of both)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26602687

Is There Somewhere, 13k

Tsukkiyama, E

I literally just discovered how good tsukkiyama is wtf. anyways, tadashi’s a singer w an abusive bf and tsukishima is a gov.t hacker. one night stand type beat

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4628079

Time, 5k

iwaoi, E

this is actually the loveliest thing you’ll ever read so uh go read it right now

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7881373

Snow in May, 80k, graphic dep. of violence, major ch. death

iwaoi, bokuaka, kuroken, kagehina (equally divided), M

so this is the first fic to make me cry since in another life, it actually broke me. fully broke me. but also one of the best things i read, anyways check tags if u try it pls

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6487288

Seasons of Love, 101k

kuroken, bokuaka, E

this is one of the best fics i’ve read lmao. i think it does a really great job of encompassing the characters, and not feeding into fanon and stereotypes!! very cute go read it rn

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5556743

Just a Taste, 213k, graphic dep. of violence,

bokuaka, some kurotsuki, M

STOP THIS IS SO GOOD. it’s very well written, a lot of angst, but the fluff balances it out. does have mature themes so pls read tags :’)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17260169

Take Me To Church, 43k

iwaoi, M

american au, post iwaizumi being a delinquent and oikawa has homophobic parents. very coming of age, this is the american highschool fic of my dreams

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3702383

Gunmetal Blue, 197k

daisuga, bokuaka, iwaoi, kuroken, matsuhana (screen time kinda goes in that order but good amnt of each), E

this ones an absolute whirlwind idek. very good though go read it. military, ptsd, action but like so much fun. updates veryyy slowly, also has a great playlist that i just listen to for fun like all the time now?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11738445

The Fugitives, 190k, graphic dep. of violence

ok ready? iwaoi, bokuaka, daisuga, kagehina, kuroken, asanoya, tsukkiyama (equally divided), E

magic! kind of fantasy! iwaoi/kuroken/kagehina enemies to lovers (specifically iwaoi)! very long and good! also insane world building i was shocked

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24233431

here comes your man, 8k

iwaoi, daisuga, T

just makes you all warm and fuzzy, it’s a series too! go read :)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7378066

long nights, no peace, 18k, graphic dep. of violence

iwaoi, E

HAVSHBSJA y’a know how I’m really into action packed violence and fluff? Yeahhh. Pacific rim au which I have never seen but it didn’t matter so go read

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7463934

Envy for Solid Ground, 9k

iwaoi, E

This is just… car accident, amputation, recovery, so much love. Ok go read it ready go

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24832303

surfacing, 45k

bokuaka, E

THIS ONE IS so sad and so sweet and so lovely.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30293361

rich boy, poor boy, 107k

iwaoi, M

Mmm yeah yeah strangers to lovers economic difference and Oikawa is lowk socially inept mmm yeah yep

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24644794

my castles in the sky are tumbling down, 73k, graphic dep. of violence, ONGOING

iwaoi, M

there are exactly 2 fics I constantly long for updates from. One is drowning in the depths, and the second is this. Enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, royalty au. :)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7192292

snowfall, 31k

iwaoi, M

this is what I’ve been searching for all my life. This one. figure skater/hockey player and fake dating

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36259210

maybe we could be enough, 9.5k

iwaoi, M

friends to lovers

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27088780

[weisying]

hi andrea!! 💖💝💞 can you recommend some of your favorite iwaoi fics? 👉👈 i've been rereading to be first, to be best aka the holy grail of iwaoi fics and i'd love some more recommendations!!

hello mariam!! i hope you’ve been well :’) 💕 💛

ohhh i have to admit choosing a few was hard (stares at my 100+ iwaoi ao3 bookmarks,,,) but i managed to narrow it down to 20 of my favorite complete fics. i hope this isn’t a Lot but i just couldn’t make it shorter for the life of me lol.

these are in no specific order!! i love them all VERY MUCH.

In April by hiuythn (28k, rated t): this is the fic that got me into iwaoi! i saw it one day on my tl, read it and immediately fell in love with their dynamic. it’s so good and has lots of mutual pining which !!!!

mint by tothemoon (18.8k, rated t): i’m literally in love with everything ao3 user tothemoon writes. their way with words it’s just... wow. this one features oikawa’s face on a billboard and the Confession scene changed me as a person

the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle by kittebasu (66.3k, rated t): i know we’ve talked about this one before but if there’s someone reading this who hasn’t checked it out i’m telling you to do it Now. it hurts SO GOOD and it’s overall perfect

the yellow room by ohhotlamb (14.2k, rated t): post breakup iwaoi hello!?!?!! it has a happy ending but the in-between is really good and the pain is so Worth It

Space by EclecticInkling (44.3k, rated t): god i love this one SO MUCH. it has space, non-linear narrative, pining, botanist okawa!!!!, and relativity Angst. i love space a Lot so this is literally my jam.

Like Perennials by tether (tothemoon) (35.5k, rated t): again user tothemoon because GOD. i would like to offer them my firt born child for writing this one. it’s Breathtaking. the way it’s written, the way everything falls together leaving you flabbergasted. i literally cried reading this one. please Read This One.

yellow white red (camellia/gardenia) (9k, rated t): this one is so CUTE!!!!! i couldn’t stop smiling when i read it,, i’d say is one of my comfort iwaoi fics. i love oikawa flirting so much and florist iwaizumi!! what more could you want.

(sing with me) A Song of Conquest and Fate by Hyeyu (26.8k, rated t): fantasy au which i would die for. the Slow Burn!!! i really love how their relationship slowly changes and the shared intimacy is top notch :’)))) the author’s other works are also Very Good so check them out as well!

Desperado by Verbrennung (82.8k, rated m): i live for the iwaizumi & kyoutani friendship in this one. it’s so good!!! and the iwaoi Tension!! i really love how their backstory is slowly revealed and how it keeps you on the edge of your seat all throughout the fic. reading this felt like watching a movie.

chasing gold by skiecas (45k, rated m): this is The post canon iwaoi fic. i LOVE it and in my head it is 100% canon lmao. as the tags say, it features oikawa being happy!!!! the olympics and iwaoi finally getting together. it’s just Perfect in every way and i’d say is the ultimate culmination of iwaoi’s relationship after everything they achieved on their own.

Something in Our Pockets ( Maybe Paper Planes) by glass_owl (28k, rated t): air steward oikawa has a special place in my heart. i love this fic, especially the pining and the Angst there at the end. the ending is also super cute!!!

To build a home by xShieru (15.2k, rated t): road trip iwaoi! the hurt/comfort of this one is GREAT. i love strangers-to-lovers iwaoi and how their relationship slowly becomes more and more intimate!!

from your mortal enemy (with love) by duskglow (11.2k, rated t): i literally couldn’t stop smiling while reading this one, it’s so cute!!!! it’s cheesy but in a Very Good Way. i love teen iwaoi falling in love, flirty iwaizumi and cute first dates :’)))

Dinner and a Movie by rikke (11k, rated t): a classic one. it’s amazing. the fake/pretend relationship and then developing actual feelings never gets old and it is SO GOOD in this one.

And All the Prince's Men by FindingSchmomo (65.3k, rated t): AMAZING royalty au with childhood friends to lovers. i adore everything about this fic. it has pining, fluff, angst and a very satisfying happy ending!!

galaxies, within you by skiecas (21k, rated t): slice of life!! living together!!! pining!! getting together!!!! this fic has it ALL. it also features supportive matsuhana who just want their friends to get it together, i love them very much in this one!!

it's been so long (nobody knows me the way you do) by anyadisee (8.5k, rated t): pure happiness which is what they deserve. it has domestic iwaoi!!! and just them being helplessly in love. i’m in love with this fic and with their love.

The Loyalty of a Traitor by DeathBelle (76.9k, rated e): if you’re up for a fic with darker tones and much more mature themes THIS ONE IS PERFECT. this fic,, just.... no words. it’s THAT good. i have to keep myself from rereading it like every week dskjfls i love it very much. all of deathbelle’s iwaoi works are amazing, if you’re interested!!

five minutes west of irvine by birdcat (20.3k, rated g): the way the author writes is simply beautiful. i really really really love this fic. it has iwaoi getting together after spending some time apart and it’s incredible.

Fernweh by oikawashoyo (19.6k, rated g): THIS. it’s so introspective and i LOVE IT. i love the character study and I LOVE argentina oikawa SO MUCH. seeing him thrive, and achieve his dreams and find a new home in argentina just :’))) argentoto supremacy!!!

those are some of my favorite iwaoi fics! again, sorry if this is too much ksdjfsl but i couldn’t hold myself back. i also just realised most of these are pretty Long *looks away*. i tend to prefer longer fics, i hope it isn’t a problem :)

[inthewild-flowers]

hey! hope you're having a good day!

if you want some remus centric wolfstar content to really break your heart and that actually captures the trauma of the war so beautifully, you should check out Ascend by LightAndHeat and How to Save a Life by spaceflowrr, both on ao3. ascend is like 100k words but save a life is about 10k and i found both of them while desperately hunting for fics that dealt with remus having addiction issues. i have not cried so much in forever haha. do you happen to know of any other fics that deal with similar subject matter? i really wanna read more

I actually don’t read a whole lot of fics about addiction! these both look really good tho and I’ll definitely read the shorter one and try very hard at the longer one :)) long fics are, unfortunately, not really my thing unless I’m reading them as they update.

Descend/Ascend (series)

"Farewell, farewell! One kiss, and I'll descend." - Romeo and Juliet

Remus Lupin had experienced two great loves in his life, and both of them began with a kiss from Sirius Black.

When two boys from troubled backgrounds fall in love, it feels like the beginning of something beautiful. The Marauders strut out into the world with bright eyes and brave hearts. As the mounting pressure of the war creeps into everyone's psyches, they all find ways to cope. Some better than others.

How to Save a Life (oneshot by @lyalllupin)

“What do you reckon happens when we die?”

Joe frowned and took a deep breath, thinking hard for a moment. “I’m not sure. Perhaps there is an after life?” Remus pictured Lily, James and Peter watching from a fluffy white cloud. He chuckled softly before stopping abruptly. He doesn't want them to see him like this, unable to function, barely a person. It made his heart ache. “What do you want to happen, Remus?”

Remus looked up at the clock on the wall for several long moments, running through every possibility. He bit his lip, accidentally breaking the dry skin with his teeth. “I hope to die and stay dead.”

Or: How Remus learnt to cope when everyone left.

and here’s a few others that I found! :))

The Sweet Love Between the Moon and the Deep Blue Sea (oneshot, 25k)

Sirius Black was okay, no matter how often Lily and James and his manager were going to ask him about it. He didn't need to cancel the tour, and he didn't need an assistant to play his babysitter, and he certainly didn't need a guardian angel to fall in love with.

... wait, what?

Or: the one where Sirius is lead singer of the rock band Raisin' Hell and not doing as well as he pretends he is, Remus is the world's most sarcastic guardian angel, and one Europe tour changes more than either of them expected.

this is one that I've read but don’t remember reading so I will have to reread it. however, my friend recommended it to me when I mentioned this ask, and I trust their judgment

Desperado (multi chapter, 75k)

West Texas, 1861. “I’m unsure when we elected to hand the reigns of this operation over to a hophead felon and a bottom-tier bounty hunter.”

I've read this one and completely forgot until I skimmed the first couple paragraphs! it’s very very good, but does have major character death, so it depends how much angst you’re ready for

Magic (oneshot, 13k)

"We all want a bit of magic. But the cigarette smoke screens, the funhouse mirrors and silk curtains hanging over loaned beds, the vanishing greenery in our hands, it's all part of the act. Shallow magic. And it's not enough for you, Sirius. "

Sirius is a sex worker and he runs into Remus at his drug dealer's apartment.

this one is just,,, gorgeous I  only meant to skim it and then I ended up reading it the whole way through and it was absolutely worth it. do check the tags tho, and make sure it’s something you’re ok with reading

i hope you make it to the day you’re twenty-eight years old (oneshot, 1k)

Remus reflects on his failed relationship with Sirius Black and the collision course his ex lives on. Inspired by the song Colors by Halsey.

really fucking sad :(( just. so sad. if you’re looking for a happy ending maybe not this one but it is really good so,,,,

[miloloveswrestling]

UP WITH THE SUN

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: El Desperado | Mikami Kyosuke/Takahashi Hiromu Characters: El Desperado | Mikami Kyosuke, Takahashi Hiromu Additional Tags: Drunkenness, Hangover, Breakfast in Bed, Blow Jobs, Kayfabe Compliant, Enemies With Benefits Series: Part 3 of hiromu / desperado fics Summary:

It's late. Desperado's drunk and lost. His favorite enemy helps him home, and takes good care of him the morning after.

As I'm rereading the first NJPW fic I ever bookmarked, I'm absolutely not surprised to find that it's one written by the marvelous Kagayaki. The chaotic energy of Hiromu on this one is especially well rendered without being over the top and that's always been Kagayaki's forte: characterization. Up With the Sun is only a part of a bigger serie, a great serie by the way, focusing on Hiromu and Desperado, their problems with communication and some really nice kinkplay.

In that same serie Stray Dog At Night became a classic. I recommend to begin with Masks, the first chapter, even if you don’t have to, their dynamic is breathtaking in that one.

This one’s explicit but not kinky. You still have to be a registered user to read all of Kagayaki’s fics but it’s definitely worth it.

[homiegeesus]

The Year of Magical Thinking, Ch.1

Summary:  Francis Sinclair believed Arthur Morgan had not finished living. In a second chance at life, Arthur discovers what it means to love himself.

At the edge of a precipice and nowhere to run, Arthur concedes defeat. In an extraordinary turn of events, he is sent through the ether to another time where his path crosses with a group not too unlike his own family. After discovering the fate of those he loved before, he races to find a way back. But what if he realizes that there is something worth staying for in this new world? Can two people separated by nearly a hundred and twenty years of living find their happily ever after?

________________________________________________________

So…Super nervous posting this. It’s the first time in a few years that I’ve written anything (the first fandom-centered work I’ve written since like 2005 lmao; Gilmore Girls anybody?) and it shows. But, alas, I’ve been incredibly inspired by RDR2’s story and the way other authors on Tumblr & AO3 have expanded on it. Shit guys, dunno if anybody is even going to read this, but I’ll push it out of the nest and into the world regardless. This may be the stupidest idea ever, but whatever, I’ll let y’all decide. A warning: This is not beta'd, but I reread it like 50 times. Still, I apologize for my terrible grammar. And, yes, I have shamelessly lifted the title from Joan Didion’s fantastic book. It just fit. So. Well. I’m terribly uncreative, so please forgive me Joan. Also, my only knowledge of 1920s-speak comes from F. Scott Fitzgerald, Clara Bow movies and Googling. I don’t know if anybody ever really said ‘old sport’, but what the hell. On another note, there will be a few things taken from the GTA universe, but it's minimal (San Andreas/Liberty City do not exist). I'll be explaining through a secondary character how states in RDR became the modern states that we know. And finally, constructive criticism welcomed and appreciated!! Anyway, here's Wonderwall...

AO3 Link

Warning: This is me working through my “stuff” vicariously through Arthur Morgan and co.

The Year of Magical Thinking

Chapter 1 - Prologue (or A Dream of Arthur Morgan)

Roanoke Valley - 1899 Peace settled over Arthur Morgan like a warm embrace; the rattle in his lungs that had invaded his every waking moment these past few months now a distant feeling. With each labored rise and fall of his chest, drowning in his own blood, he spared but one final thought.

It’s over. It’s finally over and death would soon come for him.

This wasn’t how Arthur had envisioned his death. No, he had always thought he would die with a bullet in his chest and cordite in his lungs. Not at the behest of disease and treachery. Such a shame that wisdom should only come to him on his deathbed. If only…

That’s what it came down to, that’s what it always comes down to. If only, if only, if only, his mind repeated nonstop. Regrets, Arthur had plenty of them. For months, he had been sinking so far in regrets, he could scarcely breathe. What could he have done differently that would have given a better outcome? How had he not seen Dutch’s descent into mania? Arthur supposed that maybe he had seen but chose to ignore, because when had Dutch ever led them astray.

Micah. Arthur had so many regrets about that goddamn snake. Micah had attached to Dutch like a leech and sucked every drop of the very lifeblood of the gang. He had played on all of Dutch’s insecurities and weaknesses. Arthur’s eyes were finally open, for all the good it did him now. But that rat was only one of the last in a long line of regrets he would have in his life. Arthur’s craving for penance started long before Micah came along.

Maybe Arthur himself was the leech, a disease – an infection. Death and pestilence followed him around like an acrid smell. It was something that seeped into his skin, clawed its way inside like a cancer until it reached his soul, the very center of him. Not happy with just him, it carried through the air and infected everything he had ever cared for or loved. His mother, Hosea, Mary, Eliza and –

Isaac. Arthur still had trouble even saying his name, so wrapped up in guilt as he was. During the rare times he found himself alone, thoughts of the little towheaded boy would invade his mind. Being rightly familiar with cowardice, he would press the tips of his fingers to his skull until they felt like ten dull knives, as if to physically rid himself of the painful memories. Of course, this rarely worked and he was resigned to suffer through the punishment he subconsciously forced upon himself. And now, as he laid on the jagged gravel of this cliff, he finally welcomed the comforting mental images of his son.

Feeling the weight of a life lived recklessly lift slowly from his mind, Arthur turned his head towards the setting sun, his final thought being: I gave it all I had.

___________________________________________________________

Francis Sinclair had one rule:

Don’t mess with the timeline.

It had seemed so easy in its simplicity. In the beginning, that is, until it wasn’t. He hadn’t counted on Arthur Morgan. For a bad man, he sure did a lot of good. Probably more than he realized. When Francis had asked the outlaw to find the futuristic rock carvings, he hadn’t expected Mr. Morgan to deliver. Especially not in a matter of months. Chronos himself probably would have found the task trying.

So, in 1932, when Francis had read about the fate of the Van der Linde Gang in a new hit novel by J. R. Miller, he learned that the coppers had closed in on his ole friend, and well, that just wouldn’t do. He understood that he wouldn’t be able to find Mr. Morgan in the time needed to prevent the most unfortunate aspects of his fate, but he could prevent the ultimate one. What he didn’t expect was to find the man with one arm in a Chicago Overcoat.

Francis pulled the horse-drawn buckboard to a stop in a clearing next to the crag and hopped down. The air was calm and filled with the late evening chatter of the local fauna. He jogged the incline of the rock until a recumbent figure came into his field of view. It wasn’t until he was a few feet away that he noticed the extent of the man’s injuries. His blue shirt stained brown, gone was the desperado’s worn black leather hat, in its place a matte of blood and dirt in his previously honeyed blonde hair. His once handsome face gaunt, his ashen skin a mess of bruises and cuts. One eye was swollen shut, blood trickling down the corner of his mouth. Was he even breathing? Francis was running out of time.

“You’ve a lot more living yet, old sport,” the red-head crouched down and placed two fingers against the outlaw’s throat finding a slow, but steady pulse. “Yes, a lot more.”

Mr. Morgan groaned.

“Come on, we gotta find a way to get ya on your gams, ya follow?” Francis grabbed the man’s arm and tried to pull him into a sitting position. Morgan was having none of that.

“Let me– let me die, damn you,” he wheezed on an exhale.

“No, no you poor little bunny. Can’t do that. Now up you go,” Francis pulled once more, this time succeeding.

In a broken voice, Arthur pleaded, “Goddamnit, jus’ let me alone. ‘M so damn tired.” When he finally raised his head and opened his good eye, a look of recognition passed over his face. “You– “

“Yes, me. Now, let’s scoot. You don’t have much time, Mr. Morgan.” Francis placed the man’s arm over his own shoulders, Arthur allowing himself to be hauled into standing.

Arthur weakly protested, “’M dyin’, Mr. Sinclair. I’m a dead man. Ain’t no use in helpin’ a dead man.”

Francis just laughed and replied with the strain of half-carrying a grown man in his voice, “No, Mr. Morgan. As I said before, you’ve a lot more living left to do. Now, conserve your strength.”

Likely out of exhaustion, the outlaw did not say another word. They barely made it to the buckboard before Arthur collapsed. Just before Morgan would have fallen to his knees, Francis used the momentum to haul the man into the back of the wagon. As Francis grabbed each of the larger man’s legs to swing into the bed, Arthur’s breath rasped in his throat, “Why you doin’ this?”

Francis regarded him for a moment before saying, “Because you helped me get outta a pretty big pickle.” He paused, then smiled, “And because you’re terribly important to a lot of people, baby.” And with that, Francis climbed back up to the seat and flicked the reigns.

___________________________________________________________

Well, shit.

Arthur’s plan to die in peace had been upended by a curious red-haired fellow in a blue sweater. With no energy to ruminate further, he resolved to die in the bed of this damn wagon. As the cart trudged backed to the main road, Arthur’s worn body felt every mound and stone the wheels rolled over. Finally, on a relatively smooth surface, he allowed himself to observe his surroundings. Tall pines and hemlock blurred into each other passing in his periphery as he stared at the spattering of stars visible through dark clouds. The sun had officially set in the last thirty minutes and all that remained a reddish orange hue near the horizon. Above him though, what a sight indeed. Bright stars twinkled along the Milky Way, like God himself spread them with a paintbrush across the sky.

Why had he taken all this for granted? So many nights spent under these same stars, but Arthur never really paid them any mind except for navigation. How many years before the artificial lights of the cities overpowered their natural beauty? Unable to ponder any longer and continue the fight to stay conscious, Arthur resigned to close his eyes and place complete trust in the relative stranger.

What felt like moments later, or hours Arthur was unsure, cold droplets of water forced his good eye open once again. A murmur of thunder rolled in the distance. Mr. Sinclair finally turned around, his voice deafened by the creaking of the wagon and heavy breathing of the horses.

“We are just a minute away. I think we’ll make it before the worst of the storm hits.”

But like an omen fitting of this night, Sinclair was wrong. What began as random drops here and there crescendoed into a torrential downpour. The red-haired fellow should have known that hitching his wagon to the outlaw would herald an abundance of bad luck. Unable to shield himself and too tired to care, Arthur welcomed the deluge as if it would wash him away.

Mr. Sinclair halted the horses and hopped down from the buckboard once more. He appeared in Arthur’s line of sight as he unlatched the tailgate, setting down a lantern and grabbing the larger man’s arms in another tug-of-war to get him sitting. Water poured down his face and converged at his chin.

“We just have to ankle about ten feet to the opening,” Sinclair hollered over the rain. “You ready?”

At this point, Arthur would have conjured up his most intimidating mien but there was no energy for that. “No,” he answered defeated.

Unperturbed, the younger man smiled, “That’s the spirit.”

Grabbing Arthur’s arms, Mr. Sinclair placed one across his shoulders. When he hauled the outlaw into standing position, Arthur’s world tilted. Feeling unable to breathe and so lightheaded, he launched into a series of hacking coughs. Blood splattered against his hand and mixed with the rain, diluting until it turned into a river of pink down his arm. He looked to Sinclair. Wet hair plastered to his forehead; the cold of the rain made the strange man’s curious birthmark stand out all the more against pale skin.

“When you gonna see that I’m already dead?” His weakened voice barely heard above the storm.

The redhead looked at him, “Please, just trust me.”

They began their short journey to wherever it was they were going, walking only yards but feeling like miles. By the time they reached what appeared to be a cave entrance, Arthur’s knees buckled and his vision went black. He would have felt hitting the ground, if he’d been conscious. Coming to seconds later, he became aware of his arms being tugged above his head. Mr. Sinclair was apparently dragging him. Deep down, Arthur briefly admired the man’s grit. However, the sentiment was soon replaced by annoyance and near-agony as the sensation of what felt like an elephant settled atop his chest. In and out of consciousness, Arthur realized they had stopped when Sinclair crossed the threshold to grab the lantern at the mouth of the cave. The red-haired man set the lantern between the outlaw and the cave wall and then perched above his head, grabbing both of his arms by the wrists. Arthur could see the younger man’s mouth moving but could not discern the words, only comprehending ‘listen’ and ‘your hands’.

Sinclair then placed Arthur’s large hands against the cool stone wall. Even in his delirious state, he recognized the carvings he had previously found for the peculiar fellow. He could feel the vibrations of the man’s voice behind him in what felt like a chant, but he still could not determine the words. To Arthur’s astonishment, the outlines in the rock began glowing a mute bluish color. What began as a slight tingling in his fingertips turn into full body experience. Reality dissolved into nothingness and became a pure void. And then –

Everything.

Every single moment in his hard life experienced again but in hundred times the speed. This must be it, Arthur thought. God must be forcing him to relive every chapter of his rotten existence before He banished him to the fiery pits of Hell. Familiar faces began to permeate his view. Arthur tried in vain to reach out at the image of his mother. Beatrice Morgan may have been alive for only a small portion of his life, but he would carry her memory with him forever in the form of a flower at his bedside. Unpleasant memories began to flash as Lyle Morgan pervaded his vision. The son of a bitch had been a vile presence in his young days, a man who Arthur would live in fear of until the moment they finally hanged him. Arrested for larceny, his death hadn’t come soon enough.

And then Hosea appeared, someone Arthur had thought of as more of a father than even Dutch. The man had been convinced by the raven-haired outlaw to take a chance on a scared gangly boy who had just tried to rob their room. Starved and desperate for family, Arthur had latched onto the men soaking up anything they would teach him. And teach him they had.

More memories raced by, and Arthur caught sight of a beautiful brown-haired girl. Mary Gillis, the visage of her still enough to stir his pulse, laughed and blushed like a young woman in love. Even in the inevitability of their parting, Arthur had still carried the hope that they’d one day reunite and ride off into the sunset together. If not for Guarma and the mess that had come from the robbery in St. Denis, that may have been his future. Not the hellfire that awaited his damned soul.

And then, Eliza. A young girl of nineteen, Arthur had found comfort in her embrace in the wake of heartbreak. Intent on forgetting Mary, he foolishly took advantage of a girl’s infatuation and followed her to a room above the saloon where she worked. What had come from the union was a beautiful gift but more a curse. Isaac had his mother’s hair and his father’s eyes. A happy baby from what Eliza had told him. Until a group of transients killed them both over ten dollars. Arthur had just whipped up a tidy sum from some cattle rustling and had set his compass to visit his secret family, fully intent on giving Eliza all of the hard-earned money. What greeted him would harden his heart and set him on a path of wickedness. All he had to see were the two graves to understand what had happened.

Like a moving picture, the entirety of his life played before him. If this was what the devil had in mind for his punishment, it would be a hellish eternity. Forced to relive every mistake and misstep he’d ever made; it was what he deserved. But as the memories neared their end, he began to feel a weightlessness. Every atrocity and sin that had weighed heavy on his shoulders suddenly lifted. Again, everything went black.

But then –

Stars. Billions of them. Clearer than any night sky he’d ever seen. Galaxies and distant worlds powdered his vision like puffs of freshly picked cotton. No longer held under the burden of sickness, he took a deep and easy breath. He hadn’t felt this well in months – no, years. Was this heaven? Could God forgive a lifetime of misdeeds? Arthur may have never been a good man, but he did try to be better – in the end. But, no. He was irredeemable. This was a final punishment. A peek at the peace and serenity that redemption would have gifted, before God cast him from the light.

The answer was seemingly given when an unnatural force dragged him back through the ether. Again, hundreds of images flashed in his sight, but this time the memories didn’t belong to him. Too fast to discern individual frames, he could only pick out one reoccurring subject. A woman with dark blonde hair and a bright smile that formed two apple cheeks. Strangely familiar, his memory told him he didn’t know her, but his subconscious shouted in recognition. Then she was gone and with her the remainder of his vision.

Everything turned to black once more.

[noveltea-lolita]

today is a good day to reread desperado, ive thought to myself every single day since I first read it

[chocominnie]

Should I

A: study for finals

B: reread desperado

C. Write my term paper

D. Reread desperado with my conspiracy hat on

D.

and then read the new release

[the-three-eyed-ravenclaw]

Of Monsters & Men - Pt. 2

Part One  |  Part Two (you are here)

Alright so I finally got around to proofing this. Wow. So. Many. Errors. And half the shit was confusing and unnecessary. I also saw that I had out my own name in where it was supposed to be Y/N like what the fuck? I am sorry for that mess, I have heavily edited this part so if you are going to read the next part I would reread this one. 

Hope you enjoy!

Below are some choreography videos for the two songs that the reader dances to. These are somewhat what I imagined for these scenes. Also Below are links to the songs mentioned in the fic.

Havana

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZUEU-dVUjVQ starting at 2:43

Desperado

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Xyn8Go4frQ

Okay so it’s like 5 in the morning and I have been working on this for 6 hours straight. I am going cross-eyed. This has been very briefly proofed, so if there are any errors, I’ll fix them in the morning! (or really afternoon cuz my ass ain’t waking up till about 2 pm)

Anyways, here is part 2. I hadn’t planned on this part being so long, but it just came out of me as I was writing. This part is gonna be kind of boring because it the readers point of view of part 1 and it also has a lot of back story. so please hang in there. 

As always, feedback and constructive criticism is welcome. If you like this story let me know! I plan on this being a multi-part fic, but if no one likes it then I won’t continue it.

Songs mentioned in the story are

Havana by Camila Cabello

Desperado by Rihanna

Finesse Remix by Bruno Mars

Someone mentioned that the pictures were distracting last time so i left them out this time round. Except the one ben barnes gif. I mean who doesn’t want at least one of those? Especially when its one of him being so sexually aggressive. :)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Length: Almost 7,000 (hot damn)

Warnings: Cussing, sexual situations, innuendos, bad writing and grammar? fucking sue me

Your eyes scan the vivacious dance floor. There was always something you felt that was extremely freeing being a nameless face in the crowd. You could be anyone and no one, but tonight you were someone. Tonight you had a name, Rachel Manafor. Rachel was a young entrepreneur who came out to simply enjoy a night at one of the most popular clubs in New York. Gotta hand it to the case worker who constructed this identity. They had made the cover air tight. If anyone wanted to check up on you, you were covered.

You sighed as you resisted the urge to scratch your scalp. You never were one for wearing wigs. Honestly, I don’t know how Nat handles this. The woman has more missions that she goes undercover for than Kellogg’s has cornflakes. I’ve only had this wig on for three hours and I am ready to strangle something. Your eyes continue scanning the crowd. You clock all the visible exits making sure there aren’t any unforeseen obstacles that could have popped up in the last 10 minutes.

You take note of the Anvil security stationed at the visible exits. Ah, your target must have finally arrived. You look for him on the dance floor and at the bar, but you don’t see him. Since the babysitters are here, he must be close by or on his way. They are probably here to secure the building first. Alright, time for momma to go to work. Get ready boys.

You start making your rounds of the club, checking out the formation of the security and their station points. Dancing your way across the dance floor isn’t easy. The crowd is packed in so tightly that it’s hard to even breathe. You wonder how anyone is able to move in this, but soon realize that the crowd’s dancing is more of a going-with-the-flow-of-shoving-and-pushing-lest-you-get-elbowed-in-the-face rather than actual dancing. However, you are finally able to complete three circuits of the club and feel that you have successfully mapped out the room and the security detail. Only one guard posted at each exit? Whoever’s in charge really underestimates who all is coming for this guy and the power and resources they possess. Well, I’m not gonna complain. Makes my job a helluva lot easier.

With the first step of your mission complete, it was time to start the second step, locate the target.

Speak of the Devil… Aldrich had finally entered the club. It had taken a lot of cashing in IOUs to find where your target would be and when he would be there. You had been saving a lot of those favors for a rainy day, but when SHIELD said jump…

As you watch Aldrich immediately head towards the bar, you couldn’t help but let out a frustrated grumble. The little shit was over two hours later than planned, but you know, spilled milk and all that. Your mission was still on track, and that was all that really mattered. You’ll live. Even with that mentality, you lamented over the date night you had made with your bathtub. So much for me time, and I was so excited about that new bathbomb, too. Mr. Darcy, I hope you’ll wait for me. Box of wine, I’ll miss… who am I kidding? I’ll still smash you when I get home. Dear Lord, I am having full conversations in my head now. Maybe Tony was right. Maybe I do need to see a shrink. With your internal monologue mostly over, you start to plan your next move.

You notice that Aldrich brought an additional entourage of bodyguards, not just the ones stationed at the exits. Well at least the guy in charge wasn’t a total imbecile. You watch the group of men disperse amongst the crowd. However, one man sticks close to the target. Must be close guard tonight. You check the man out. Your eyes appreciating the masterpiece in front of you. No doubt this was the infamous William Russo. So, the gossip was right for once, man he is fucking beautiful. Nat, I’ll never doubt you again.

Russo had been on SHIELD’s radar for a few months now. How could he not be? Some Jarhead fresh out of the military, without a penny to his name, suddenly becomes a multi-millionaire in a few short years? That’s definitely some shady shit right there. Hell, the guy drives a fuckin’ Wraith… in New York…. Like what the actual fuck?  You watch Billy remove his leather jacket, revealing the form fitting sweater he wore underneath and you bite your lip. Have mercy.

You shake your head back and forth trying to refocus. Okay enough about tall, dark and handsome. Time to find out where the other Anvil dicks got off too. You look at the beer that some random dude had bought you on your last circuit of the club. He was no doubt hoping to make you feel like you owed him in some sort of sexual favor. Fucking cunt. With that thought, you chug the remaining liquid and slam it on the nearest table, making your way back onto the dance floor.

While maneuvering your way through the crowd, you spot three additional guards amongst the partiers. Their just-a-little-too-stiff dance moves and their constant glancing over their shoulders singled them out as Billy’s men. Oh, and also because they kept talking into their sleeves every two fucking minutes. Real inconspicuous. You shake your head. “Idiots,” you mumble under your breath. This is almost too easy.

With the all the guards accounted for, you make your way to the exit you planned on using to make a quick escape. As you work your way across the floor, you make it seem as if you are looking for a friend. “Samantha?” You cry out with a slight whine and slur to your voice. You’re sure to put on a little show, stumbling and slightly putting your weight on everyone you pass. They started making a narrow path, wanting to avoid a potential collision or the possibility of puke. “Samantha! Where are you?”

You keep moving along until you finally make it to the far side of the dance floor. In your earlier assessment, you took note that the side exit is right by the bathrooms. You thank the gods for your luck. You knew with the packed dance floor and the number of utter buffoons posing as bodyguards, you would have to get Aldrich somewhere private and secluded.

You finally reach the hallway that leads to your preferred exit. You see the guard standing stiffly to the right of the door, arms crossed and a stern scowl on his face. He looked to be in his mid-forties with a bit of gray hair at his temples. He was doing an excellent job of exuding the Don’t Fuck Me Me vibe. You keep up your show of being a drunk girl looking for her friend. You stumble and giggle your way towards him.

“’Scuse me, have you seen S’mantha? Can’t find her anywhere.”

Knock off Jason Statham doesn’t respond just gives you a stern look. You stumble closer to him, hugging the wall for balance.

“D’you hear me? I SAID ‘M LOOKIN’ FOR MY FRIEND S’MANTHAAAA.” You say a little too loudly and with an annoying whine for added effect.

“Look Ma’am, I don’t know who Samantha is, but you’re not supposed to be back here.” He uncrossed his arms as he answered your question, holding them out slightly as if he was about to stop you from coming any closer.

You’re almost close enough to him now that if you were to stumble you would fall right in to his chest, and that is exactly what you do. You let out a surprised gasp as he steadies you. You look up at him and smile.

“Aw thank you! You’re my hero.” You say a little breathlessly as you grasp his biceps. “Oh WOW you’re so strong!” You say with a little awe in your voice.

Your charms don’t seem to be working on the man though. He just looks down at you unfazed.

“Ma’am you can’t be back here.” He repeats.

“Oh, alright you fuddy duddy!” You say as you smack his chest. “I’ll leave, jeez! But if you see S’mantha, tell her that Ray-shul‘s lookin’ for ‘er!” You turn around to leave and take a step forward to leave but stop suddenly.

“Hey sir?”

You hear him sigh and you can tell whatever he says next will have an exasperated tone to it. “Wha-“

You turn around swiftly, delivering a round house kick to his temple, immediately knocking the him out.

“You need to learn to loosen up a little.” You say flatly to his unconscious body.

The next few minutes pass quickly as you secure his hands and feet with some zip ties you hid in your bra. Not much room for a utility bely in this get-up. You drag his body in to some random supply closet and kick off the door knob, effectively locking him in. When you’re done, you straighten your pink form fitting skirt and readjust your bralette making sure none of the goodies were showing. Sometimes it sucks being a woman.

Alright. Phase one complete. Phase two here I come. You make your way back into the mass of bodies. If I never see another club after this mission, it will be too soon. I have had enough of this hot, sweaty mob. You see Aldrich and Russo are at the bar still, so ou make your way to the bar area and hover at the edge dance floor. You take position to make sure you’re seen by the men. Camila Cabello’s Havana starts playing and you start moving to the beat. This next part wouldn’t be hard. Dancing was something you loved, despite your bad memories that were often tied to dancing.

Flashback

You breathe heavily as you wipe the sweat from your forehead. All you can hear are the raps of the cane against the floor as your ballet instructor calls out moves.

 “Pirouette!”

“Arabesque penchée!”

“Grand Jeté!”

America would never admit to being envious of their long-term rivals, but they couldn’t deny that Russia produced two of the best things the world has ever seen: ballets and spies. You were currently practicing for Swan Lake as the Black Swan. Something you never would had thought you would ever do in your life. Being an orphan that had bounced from Foster Home to Foster home since you were 4, your future never seemed too bright. But all of that changed when you were taken in by the White Rose Initiative.

When the SSR caught wind of the Red Room back in the 40s, they were appalled, and rightly so. The fought for years to put an end to the program and rescue those little girls. And for the most part, they succeeded. However, all it took was for one person to have one awful idea under the pretenses that although it may be awful, if it was for the right cause, the ends could justify the means. So, with that thought process, the CIA formed an American equivalent of the Red Room and it was called the White Rose Initiative.

The WRI took in orphaned girls and trained them torturously in the ways of espionage. While they didn’t chain the girls to the bed, they used other means of imprisonment. A decade of mental and emotional abuse did quite a number on someone.

You had been taken in at the ripe, young age of 8. Your body was trained in multiple martial arts and became specialized in dozens of weapons. Your mind was expanded by professors of the highest caliber, mastering all subjects as well as conquering no less than 12 different languages. You were cultured by learning multiple different musical instruments and training your vocal cords to perform even the most difficult operatic arrangements. You built endurance and strength through ballet and dance classes from the highest trained professionals. Needless to say, your body and mind were finely honed weapons, forged to serve the U.S. Government in any way possible. 

During your time with WRI, you endured many different forms of torture. Their goal was to desensitize you so that if you were ever captured, you would not break. Electrocution, waterboarding, extended isolation periods, all seemed like nothing compared to the mental and emotional abuse you suffered under their tutelage. Growing up without love is one thing, but learning to love only one thing in the entire world, and watching it be ripped away from you, knowing there was nothing you could do about it, was too much to bear.

Being inducted to the WRI, doesn’t entail much. You pledge yourself to the United States in a formal deceleration and are you assigned a partner. This partner is with you every moment of every day. Your sparring partner, your roommate, but most importantly, your best friend. Being able to spend your free time with only one person for years on end can only lead to you becoming close. You and  Y/BF/N hit it off right off the bat. You were both around the same age with Y/BF/N only being a few months older than you.

Y/BF/N was all you had. The only person who knew you better than you knew yourself, and you knew her too. This is exactly what the WRI wanted. How else were they supposed to keep their weapons in line? They invested all this time and money making you into a shell of a person who couldn’t break under the most gruesome of tortures even if you wanted to. That is why they gave you only one weakness, and one that they could control and exploit. If you ever misbehaved even in the slightest, failed in training or in education, the person they punished wasn’t you. It was your person that they tortured.

You were always stronger than Y/BF/N. Always just a little faster, a little smarter, a little more determined. You were determined that you would never be the cause of her pain. Y/BF/N, try as she might, was never good at controlling her outburst of rebellion. You both hated the WRI, but you knew that there was no escape from your fate. Y/BF/N however, always held out hope that you all would be rescued from the cruelty. This caused you to “punished” almost daily.

Y/BF/N would always be devastated when you returned to your dormitory with electrical burns or with your finger nails removed, or some other marks that were left from gruesome torturing techniques. You would always console her and tell her you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Y/BF/N, I don’t know what I would do if you ever changed who you were or your beliefs just to spare me pain. You wouldn’t be you and that would hurt worse than any torture they could put me through.” 

You both would spend hours at night, after lights out, dreaming of the day when you both would be free and able to live your own lives. You both had made pacts that you would never do any missions for your torturers. As soon as you two graduated you would run, never to be seen again. It was something that you planned together, mapping out every single detail until every possible outcome had been predicted and appropriately planned for.

However, what they didn’t tell you was that to “graduate”, you would be put in a fight to the death with the person you had come to know as a sister. It made sense. Why would they spend all this time making you unbreakable only to send you out into the world and have one thing that would make you break in a millisecond? It was smart. You have to give them that. Living it though, was a completely different story.

That fated day was fast approaching, and when it came, you and Y/BF/N were called into the training arena. You could see various weapons littered across the room. You also saw a team of people in the middle of the floor cleaning a large amount of blood off the mats. You and Y/BF/N shared a brief look, both reading each other minds. What the hell is going on? You were the first to see your martial arts instructor emerge from the shadows. When he told you what was to come next, you couldn’t believe what you heard. I have to fight Y/BF/N to the death? You couldn’t get the thought to process. Y/BF/N didn’t seem to phased, which threw you for a loop. She almost looked resigned.

You had always had been opinionated, but you always had a tight reign over your tongue. You feared it would fall back on Y/BF/N. You didn’t even really speak much other than when you were with Y/BF/N in private. So when you aggressively responded to your instructor that you wouldn’t be going along with this sick game. Your instructor was taken aback.

“You can’t seriously believe that I would fucking fight Y/BF/N, My. Best. Friend. to the death.” You say in a low and deadly tone.

Your instructor looked at you in disbelief. He couldn’t believe you, his prized pupil, would speak to him like this. He went to open his mouth, no doubt to reprimand you, but before he could say anything, you feel a punch to the gut. You look up to see who would have the audacity to hit you, and you couldn’t believe what you saw.

Y/BF/N had fucking sucker punched you in the gut. You wheeze as you try to get some air back into your lungs.

“Y/BF/N, what the fuck are you doing?”

“You fucking idiot. I am trying to kill you. Are you that much of a dumb bitch?”

With those harshly spoken words, she moved to send an upper cut to your jaw. You duck easily, but your brain felt like it was short circuiting. All you could process is that Y/BF/N is not pulling any punches. She was going full out. She’s really trying to kill me.

Looking back on it, you can only remember bits and pieces, but your body must have gone into fight or flight mode because the next thing you know you have a Kukri, your preferred blade, in your hand. You’re not sure how or when it got there, but the only thing you can think about is how deeply it is embedded in Y/BF/N’s gut. You let out a heartbreaking wail as your brain fully registers what you have done.

“NOOOOOOOOOO!”

Y/BF/N’s body is leaning heavily against yours. It’s as if she doesn’t have the energy to stand on her own anymore. She looks at you and smiles, blood staining her teeth Your heart shattered into a million pieces in that moment. A moment that dragged on for what felt like a life time, and all you can think is, Oh God, what have I done.

“No.” You whisper. A faint, broken echo of your wail earlier. Y/BF/N coughed but the cough didn’t seem to alleviate any of her pain as lets out a sickly gurgle. That’s not good. Logically in your brain, you could see the signs that her life was nearing its end, but your heart couldn’t accept it. Her body went slack and started to slip down your body. You kneel down with her and prop her head in your lap.

“Y/BF/N, please stay with me. Don’t leave me. You can’t leave me. Not you. Not now. We’re so close. What about that island, huh? We were going to go and flirt with all of the local guys, drink mojitos and do absolutely nothing all day, every day. You can’t leave me. You can’t…” Your voice breaks. “You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.” You repeat the mantra barely above a whisper.

“Y/N.” Y/BF/N draws your attention away from your grief. “You’re free. Don’t make my sacrifice for nothing. Resist. You may have to work for them until you can get out, but… you have to… you have t-” You can see that talking is draining what little energy she had left. Every world is a battle to get out. Every breath more labored than the last.

“Shhhh. Save your energy please. I can’t lose you.”

“No, you… have to… remember… they don’t…. they don’t own you Y/N. Remember. Remember… who… you… ar..” Her last word left her mouth like a sigh as her breathing stopped. Despite what your heart was telling you to do, you didn’t rage and scream. You sat there with her until your instructor came over and put a hand on your shoulder. Numb, you just looked up at him and he offered you a pained smile.

“Congratulations, you’ve officially graduated. Go back to your dormitory and pack up. You ship out at 0800.”

It’s like you were a zombie, you nodded and stood. You neatly folded Y/BF/N’s hands on her chest. She looked so peaceful. With one last look at her face, trying to memorize every feature, you turned and walked away and didn’t look back. It was torture being back in your room, seeing little signs of her everywhere. You could see where she had left her brush on the night stand and her bed unmade, a small defiance to the Initiative. You moved towards bathroom to wash her blood off of your body.

After you had dried off, changed and packed, you looked around your room. It never had been so quiet before. Even when you both were asleep, the quiet was broken with Y/BF/N’s soft snores, something she would deny she did until she was blue in the face. You eye her bed and lay down on it. As you stretch yourself out, you run your hand under the pillow only to come into contact with a hardback book. You pull it out and read the cover. “Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.” It was her favorite book. She read a little bit of it every night before she went to sleep.

You opened to the bookmarked page. Your eyes scanning the page’s contents only coming to land on the section she had underlined. “There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me.” You smirked as you read the passage. Then you noticed the little note she had written in the margins. “If this ain’t us, I don’t know what is…” And like that, the dam burst. You let out a sob before you could contain it. You rolled over and shoved your face into the pillow. You let out a blood curdling scream. You could feel tears and snot soaking the pillow. While it felt good to express some emotion finally, when you had cried the last tear, you just felt empty. You got up and put the book in your pack. At least I’ll something of hers.

And thus began your time as the empty shell that you swore to Y/BF/N that they would never make you. For years, you didn’t care if the world lived or died. You didn’t speak to anyone other than reporting to your superiors. You had soon made a name for yourself, and not in a good way. You were good at what you did. You were stealthy and deadly and you never failed a mission. People started calling you Echo after the nymph in Greek Mythology. Hera deprived her of speech, except for the ability to repeat the last words of another.

End Flashback

You come out of your reverie when a new song started playing. The deep thumps of the bass reverberating in your chest. You really shouldn’t be getting this fucking distracted on a mission. However, Your traitorous brain turns back to the past. 

It’s hard for you to think back on your time after WRI. Especially since it was against the dying wish of your best friend. You aren’t proud to say that you lived that way for a long time. You only came out of your zombie like state when the aliens attacked New York.

Flashback

You were walking along the sidewalk with your head down and earphones in listening to some rap music as you made your way to HQ to get your new mission debriefing. Through the loud music in your ears you start to hear screaming. You look up to see a horde of aliens flying about wreaking havoc on the city. You see the innocent people fleeing and fearing for their lives.

As your eyes scan your surroundings to plan your first mode of attack, your eyes land on a mother clutching her son to her chest, who was obviously dead. He had been impaled with a Chitauri staff. The kid couldn’t have been older than 10. Watching her grieve reminded you of yourself with Y/BF/N. And in that moment, you decided that as long as there were evil dickwads out there preying on the innocent, you were going to do anything you could to protect them. You couldn’t help but think that Y/BF/N would be proud of you. No doubt giving you an ear full about it taking so long first though. And with that thought in mind, you began killing as many of those sons of bitches as you could. There was a never-ending stream of them flying around on those damn hover crafts though and you soon became exhausted. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold out.

You pause after decapitating a Chitauri with a loose piece of metal paneling when you hear loud bellows off in the distance. What the hell is that? Next thing you know, you see the Hulk leaping from building to building. You follow his path with your eyes. And as he gets closer, you can hear his roars louder than ever and you fight the instinct to cover your ears to protect them from the sear volume of the noise. You realize he is headed directly towards you. Why is he coming at me, man? What did I do? You see that he passes right over your head though and you turn your head to see where he is heading and you see that you are a few yards from Stark Tower. Oh.

You watch as he swings his body on to the roof and you wonder what’s going on up there, but your thought process is rudely interrupted when a particularly large Chitauri knocks you on your ass. You get up and quickly dispose of him and four others. You then hear what sounds like a jet engine coming right at you. You look up to see Iron Man carrying a nuke on his back.

“What the actual fuck is going on? Did I take LSD without knowing and this is just a bad trip?”

You see him fly into the portal you noticed the Chitauri coming out of earlier and deliver the pay load. You let out a thunderous whoop as did many of the people around you. You hear the nuke exploding in the portal and all of the remaining Chitauri collapse at once. They don’t get back up. 

You look back up into the sky to see the portal beginning to close. You can’t explain it, but when that portal closed, some unknown force knocked you back… like about 30 feet… and slammed you into a brick wall with what felt like the force of a semi-truck going 80 mph. It was a hit that should of killed you. Or at least hospitalized you for months, but before you passed out, you felt a warmth take you’re your body and somehow, you knew you would be alright. The next thing you remember was coming to in a pile of debris.

You look up to the sky again to see if there is still any more action going on, only to see Ironman free falling at an alarming rate. As he draws to close to the ground for comfort, the Hulk swoops in and catches him. They land on the ground not far from you, and you see that Tony isn’t moving. All of the Avengers have gathered around now, and it looks like they have lost hope of him being alive. All of a sudden, the Hulk lets out an ear-splitting roar and Tony jerks awake.

After a heartwarming reunion, the team collects themselves and take in the wreckage that is New York. You are looking at them when Steve makes eye contact with you. He gives you a curious look. You just smirk at him and give him a little wave. He directs the team’s attention towards you and they all start making their way over to you. You hear Hawkeye say, “She take all them aliens out by herself?” And you can’t help but to respond.

“No. Not all of them, about 80% though. The rest are courtesy of the big guy.” You nod towards Hulk and he gives everyone a self-satisfied smirk with a grunt of acknowledgement. “Hulk smash.” He said under his breath in a proud tone.

Tony, who looks worse for wear, looks at the number of dead aliens around you. “Yeaaaah, you got spunk kid. What’s your name?”

“Name’s Y/N, but everyone calls me Echo.”

Nat perks up at this. “Wait. THE Echo? 147 confirmed kills? The silent death dealer of the White Rose Initiative?”

Steve speaks up. “Nat, you know this woman?”

“Know her? I’ve been trying to track her for years. SHIELD has her listed as a potential threat and a potential asset.”

“Hah! Well what do you know! Y/N, why don’t you join the Avengers? I’m sure I can get ole Cyclops to agree. Don’t you think Nat? You know I’m his favorite anyways. He can’t say no to me.”

“Tony, shut up for a second, will you? Y/N, what do you say? I know that Fury would jump at the opportunity to have you be a part of the team, especially after this fiasco. We’re gonna need all the helo we can get.”

“Oh, I dunno man, I mean do I have to wear dumb ass costumes?” You say as you eye up Thor. “I mean a cape, dude? Really?”

You can hear Tony mumble “I like her already,” to Nat and you can hear her chuckle.

Thor, looking offended, responds with, “I’ll have you know that capes are essential for… flying and aerodynamics and… things.”

“Mmm-hmm… Look guys I don’t know. Being an Avenger is this whole thing and I dunno… I’m not into being in the spotlight. I am looking to be on the right side of things though. Got a whole lot of shit to make up for.” Nat nods in understanding. “Widow, think Director Grumpy Mother Fucker will let me join SHIELD?”

The group let out a small laugh at that. Except Cap. He looks a little uncomfortable. Guess his delicate sensitivities doesn’t like cursing. Pussy. “I’ll be sure and let him know! Look we got to get going and report in or said director will have our heads on a platter. We will keep in touch though. You know where to find us.” She says as she gestures towards Stark Tower. You nod in acknowledgement. Well, Y/BF/N, I don’t really remember who you knew me as, but I know who I am going to try to be. I hope it’s someone you would be proud of.

End Flashback

And that’s how you came to be here, in this bar, on this mission. You listen to the song again. The lyrics flowing through you to move your body in a sensual manner.

Desperado Sittin’ in an old Monte Carlo A man whose heart is hollow Mhm, take it easy I’m not tryna go against yuh Actually, I’m goin’ witcha

You close your eyes and feel the music move your soul. Getting lost in music and dance was always an escape for you at your time in the WRI.

Gotta get up out of here And yuh ain’t leavin’ me behind I know you won’t cause we share common interests You need me, there ain’t no leaving me behind Never, no, no, I just want outta here, yeah Once I’m gone, ain’t no going back

You open your eyes and look over to where Russo and Aldrich were stationed. It looks like Aldrich got another round of drinks. Good. The drunker the better. You’re mid-turn in a dance move when you see from the corner of your eyes Aldrich looking in your direction. You smirk to yourself. Off to a good start. You close your eyes again and bite your lip as you let the music take you over again.

If you want, we can be runaways Running from any sight of love Yeah, yeah, there ain’t nothin’ There ain’t nothin’ here for me There ain’t nothin’ here for me anymore But I don’t wanna be alone

You open your eyes and look directly at your target. He seems to be admiring the view. Got ‘em hook, line and sinker. You crook your finger at him with a sultry smirk. He looks over to Russo and says something. They share a short conversation before Aldrich looks back over to you. You make the same motion and let out a small laugh, hoping it would encourage him to come over. He gestures as if to say, “Who me?” You nod and laugh again.

He eagerly makes his way to you.

“Well, hello there beautiful.”

“Hi Handsome. I saw you watching me and wanted to know if you wanted to dance.”

He doesn’t respond. Bruno Mars’ Finesse remix comes on. It’s a little more upbeat, but Aldrich moves to closer to you so that his right leg is in-between yours. If you move, you will be basically dry humping his leg. As you both begin to move to the beat, you hear him ask for your name.

“Rachel.”

“That’s a pretty name. Name’s Chad. Chad Aldrich.” He says very matter of fact tone. He was clearly expecting you to know who he was from his last name alone.

You give him a blank stare.

“You know the Aldrich’s? They are a branch of the Rockefeller family tree. I’m a very important person.”

Man, this guy is a dick and I’ve only been talking to him for two seconds. You lean up to whisper in his ear. “Oh, I am sure you are. Very. Important.” You lick into his hear on the last word and Chad is speechless. Thank God for that.

You two dance to the upbeat song for a bit more before it bleeds into the next. This new one slow and sensual. Definitely a bump and grind song. You move to turn around and press your back to his front. You start to move to the beat and Chad wraps his arms around you, putting his head next to yours.

You dance like this for a couple more songs and you can feel that Chad is getting a little excited. You lean your head back on his shoulder and press your rear more firmly to his groin. He lets out a groan, that is impossible to hear in the loudness of the music, but you can feel it coming from his chest. You turn your head slightly to whisper in his ear.

“I want you to fuck me hard in the bathroom.”

“Oh, someone’s kinky.”

“Tell me about it daddy.”

With those last words he looks at you excitedly and nods an okay. You turn to pull him away. You can feel him signaling to Russo and making some gestures behind you, but you choose to ignore them. As you make your way to the bathroom, you can feel Chad getting more and more handsy. He impatiently grips your hips and pulls himself close to you. He runs his hands across your stomach and squeezes one of your breasts.

You finally make it to the bathroom, but before you can enter the door, Chad turns you around and forcefully molds his mouth to yours. He seriously lacks finesse. You chuckle internally at your pun from thinking back to the earlier song. God I am corny. You tolerate the kiss for a few moments before you break it off and pull him into the bathroom. You quickly shoo out any other guys. Man, the bro code must be strong if the guys just willingly leave in the face of a possible quickie for their fellow dude.

Chad grips your shoulders and roughly pushes you against the wall. You two make out for a minute before a guy in a plaid shirt enters the bathroom. He doesn’t seem as accommodating as the other guys. He grumbles, “Get a room, fucking horn dogs.”

You start to shove Chad into a stall. Alright here comes the fun part. You forcefully push him down on to the toilet and straddle his lap. He makes a satisfied sound and that’s the last thing you hear from him as you pinch the pressure point in his trapezoid and he quickly passes out.

You move quickly to remove your skirt and pull out your finger printing kit that had been disassembled and strapped to your inner thigh. You deactivate the photostatic leggings you had on and they turn back to their original black color. You would have to thank Nat for getting them for you. You checked the photostatic veil you had on too. It was still intact and fully functional. Perfect. Everything is going smoothly.

You make quick work of getting his prints and a strand of hair for DNA. With that done, you whip out your phone and open the app that Peter had developed for Tony that allows you to basically have a portable eye mapper. This is ingenious when you need to get retinal scans. Good job Spiderling. You quickly level the camera lens at his eye that you prop open. You watch the load bar as it slowly progresses. I have about 10 minutes before I have to get the heck out of dodge. You think over your checklist.

You hit a stroke of luck when the guy came into the bathroom. He was wearing a perfect change of clothes. It would definitely be beneficial to your mission if you could quickly change your appearance.

You see that the app has completed its mapping and you make your way out of the stall. You see the guy that came in has finished his business and is currently washing his hands. He makes eye contact with you through the mirror. You smile ruefully at him.

“Can you believe he passed out? What a fuckin’ light weight am I right?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.”

He turns to get a paper towel to dry his hands. Using his distraction, you pinch the same nerve in his traps as you did to Chad. The guy collapses on the floor. You turn to throw away the skirt you had on and you remove the sheer shirt and toss it in the trash too. You make your way back to the guy and you strip him of his flannel shirt and white t-shirt underneath. You rip the bottom half of the t-shirt and part of the sleeves. You slip the shirt over your bralette and tie it to where it fits firmly across your chest. Next you roll up what was left of the sleeves to make them a bit more feminine looking. Then you take his flannel shirt and tie it around your waist.

You look over to the guy on the ground and decide to put him in the stall with Chad so that he doesn’t cause problems for you. You grunt as you drag him to lie face down on Chad’s lap. You laugh out loud. When they both come to, they will be very surprised at the situation they find themselves in. You take the bits of t-shirt you ripped off and tie their hand to the back of the commode.

With the majority of the job done, you exit the stall and go to remove your wig. Fucking finally. When all of a sudden you see the door to the bathroom slowly creek open and you see a gun stick through the crack. You watch as the person holding the gun finally enters the room fully and the door swings shut behind him.

He looks at you as you look at him. Fucking Russo with his fucking perfect face and hair has to ruin fucking everything. Fuck. You can see him trying to piece together what he is seeing. You fully remove the wig and your Y/H/C falls down and you almost let out a sigh of relief.

You see him taking in your appearance and you can see it in his eyes when all of the pieces come together. You almost sarcastically congratulate him on how fucking slow he was. You don’t though. You just look at him for a second more before you narrow your eyes and take up a fighting stance. You throw a smirk at him. You needed to get that gun away from him ASAP. Lucky for you, it seems he forgot he was even holding one.

Before he can think of what to do next, you charge at him. Bring it on pretty boy. Let’s see who has more balls the ballerina or the marine.

[fictitious-little-stitious]

Thank you for the tag @acrossthesestars 🥰 Oh gosh and I’m loving your answers too! House at the Edge of the World is still one of my favorites! 🥺🖤

What you’d consider your first fic:

The very first draft, the very first idea that compelled me to write is my belovedly indefinite WIP called Desperado. It’s about Javi. My first posted fic was In Love’s Debris, an imagining about Marcus Pike’s first marriage.

Your softest fic:

Honest to goodness, I cannot choose. These three are super soft and I find myself rereading them every so often just to make myself yearn lol.

There’s Breeze featuring Dad Whiskey 🥺

Well Loved with Din and his sentimental act of service ♥️

In the Quietest Moments with Dave being an endearing hubby 🥰

Fic you’re most proud of:

I think Our Walkin’s Done — an angsty, bittersweet Frankie one. I’m proud of it because I think I did a great job of using my descriptions - what they were feeling, their actions, and such - to convey the tone I was intending. Coming to terms with an end with a little glimpse to a new beginning. I’m really proud of the last lines - the near rhymes, kind of like verses. I’m especially proud that I got it done in time for @mesmorales birthday, my lil gift for her. 🧡

Fic that shows your progress:

Letters Unwritten. It’s the longest fic I’ve written to date (1.6K but damn I’m proud of that!). I think it’s the closest thing to a plot: a conflict, a solution, etc. that I’ve written in ages (as far as fics go). The details and dialogue seemed more purposeful - if I wrote it, I was going to refer to it again. Usually I write a self-contained single moment or two, but the moments in this referred to and depended on other events. It’s also my most popular fic on AO3 and Tumblr, which was a welcome suprise, so that must count for something.

Your favorite WIP

I have a somber, more serious Jack one that has a special place in my heart. It was my most recent “a-hah!” epiphany moment. It’s got some decent potential if I give it a little TLC. 🥰🤠

Tagging: @ohheyitsokay @miraclesabound @maharani-radha-writes

Fic Writer Tag Game

Thanks for the tag @fromthedeskoftheraven 😘

What you’d consider your first fic: Discounting some embarrassing stuff I wrote for a band in my teens that has long since been deleted, my first completed and published fic was Secret Santa (Javi x Steve) almost a year ago now. I’m still pretty happy with that one, especially as it was the first thing I’d shared in about two decades.

Your softest fic: Probably Home Remedies (Carrillo x Female reader). I don’t write much in the way of pure fluff, but I’m a sucker for a sick!fic, especially when it involves a vulnerable and needy Colonel 😉

Fic you’re most proud of: Old Habits Die Hard (Javi x Carrillo). To this day, I don’t know what possessed me to pour my blood, sweat and tears into a rarepair multi-chaptered fix-it fic that no one but me asked for and is still ongoing over 9 months after I started it lol, but I’m SO glad I did! It’s never gonna attract the masses, but the comments from those that are into it have been absolutely amazing and I’m thrilled to see people are still engaged with it all these months later 💕

Fic that shows your progress: It’s got to be OHDH again. I have to go back and re-read it a lot whilst working on new chapters and I can definitely see the difference in my writing from the earlier chapters to the more recent ones. Sometimes it’s painful to notice things I wouldn’t do now, but I know that’s to be expected and I should be proud of my progress rather than embarrassed by my past inexperience. Having said that, I can see myself doing a bit of re-editing once it’s finished.

Your favorite WIP: OHDH is my main WIP at the moment and I’ve not really worked much on anything else for the last few months. But I’ve got several drafts sat on my laptop that I intend to go back to one day and I’ve posted a bit about some of them here. Plus there are a couple of new ones in the very early stages involving my usual comfort characters, but there’s not much point talking about them yet, as who knows when I’m supposed to find the time to actually write them?! 😂 I would also eventually like to branch out into other fandoms, but just don’t have the time right now. 

No pressure tags: @queenofthefaceless, @acrossthesestars, @barnessupremacy, @ionlyjoinedforboydholbrook, @ithinkwehitametaphor and anyone else who wants to answer these!

[rocknrolldad]

RANDOM OBSERVATIONS IV

1.  Scene From a Concert, Part 2

The Date:  April 14, 2017

The Place:  The Fillmore Silver Spring

The Event:  Andrew McMahon/Atlas Genius/Night Riots

The Time:  The beginning of the concert

As much as the practice annoys me, I pay the extra $25 that the Fillmore charges in order to sit in the front row of the balcony.  I take my seat next to a woman.  She looks at me and says, “I recognize you.  You stood next to my daughter and me at the Night Riots show at the U Street Music Hall two years ago.”  Indeed, I had.  The fact that she could remember a face like that blew me away.

And so did the concert. The show qualified as what I call a 3-fer:  3 bands, any one of which you would go see on their own.

2.  Scene From a Concert, Part 3

The Date:  May 16, 2017

The Place:  The Lincoln Theater

The Event:  The Pixies, Night One

The Time:  waiting in line for doors to open

I love the general admission shows at the Lincoln.  Get there early and you are guaranteed a seat in the first or second row.  (And you can grab a bite to eat in line at Ben’s Chili Bowl while you wait).  I was sixth in line and chatting with a couple of people in front of me who were also avid concert-goers.  Usually, anyone who is an avid concert-goer is good people in my book.  

Of course, there is an exception to every rule.  About 20 minutes before the doors are to open, a well-dressed guy in his forties gets out of an Uber, comes to the front of the line, and asks if the line is for the Pixies.  One of the guys in front of me tells him it is. The guy then stands there and occasionally joins in our conversation. After five minutes or so, it is apparent that he is not going to the back of the line (which has grown considerably since I got there).  I then tell him:  “I don’t want to be a dick, but the line is that way,” pointing to the back.  He mumbles something about thinking that we were the end of the line, even though we are right in front of the doors, and shuffles away.  Even a music lover can be an asshole.

3.  Billy Price and the Keystone Rhythm Band/Desperado’s Reunion Concert

I have posted several times about Billy Price.  He was my buddies and my go-to band when we graduated law school.  We saw them whenever they played.  He recently performed at the Birchmere in what was billed as Desperado’s/Wax Museum Reunion show.  So I grabbed three of my law school buddies and off we went to hear four bands that used to play at these old DC venues—Billy Price & The Keystone Rhythm Band, Bob Margolin Band, Skip Castro Band, and the Good Humor Band. I had never seen the other three bands, but they were terrific.  Billy had brought in his old sax player, Eric Leeds, and also his current sax player, Eric DeFade.  They absolutely blew our socks off.  And Billy is the consummate performer.  My personal highlights:  a classic performance of “Cry, Cry, Cry/Billy Price’s Dream” and “She’s Tough.”  Plus, the jam at the end of the show with all of the groups (especially the dueling keyboard players from Skip Castro Band and Good Humor Band, banging away on one keyboard).

4.  Musical Autobiographies

I just recently read the autobiographies of two of my favorite musicians—Bruce Springsteen and Elvis Costello.  Perhaps this represents some sort of karma since, in my recent posting “He Pumped It Up,” I found some interesting similarities between the reprise of “The Rising” tour and “The Imperial Bedroom” tour.  (Bruce played 9 songs from his first 2 albums; Elvis played 9 songs from his first 3 albums, and both setlists consisted of 34 songs).

I must admit that I found Elvis’ book to be the richer of the two.  While both conveyed the drive that compelled them to make music, Elvis provided a deeper portrait of the creative process.  As he says, “Songs can be many things: an education, a seduction, some solace in heartache, a valve for anger, a passport, your undoing, or even a lottery ticket.”  And he proves it in Unfaithful Music and Disappearing Ink.  Bruce, on the other hand, is equal to the task in describing the impact of his family life and his hometown on his quest and his journey. But he does not give us the same insight into how he works.  As a consumer, not a creator, of music, those insights are what made Unfaithful Music such a treat and what will compel me to reread it at some point.

In the meantime, next up on my reading list:  Jimmy Webb’s The Cake and The Rain.  I’ll let you know what I think.