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thebestofoneshots · 7 months ago

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 6.5 K Warnings: None Prompt: What will happen as you walk inside the snake pit? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 43: Sympathy for the Devil

You appeared in a large hall. Their invitation turned into a paper heron, flew out of your hands and up in the air before blowing up into small little gold specks, a rather elaborate spell for an invitation, which easily showed the amount of time and money the Rosiers had put into their party. Evan’s father, Arkalis Rosier, was a relevant political figure in the British Ministry, so it made sense.

He was basically the main aid of Harold Mitchum (the current minister) and was actively looking to secure the position in the next election. He was also an ambassador for the Ministry and had met your father during some of his trips, although he had already heard from him since he was close to Orion and your father and Orion went way back.

Either way, if this party was part of his quest to secure his position in the 1980s election, he was definitely doing a fine job at pampering his guests with bright and colourful tricks, among luxuries. You couldn’t say much about the food, but the small snack table displayed near the far corner of the room looked mouthwatering.

“Silas! You made it,” said a man as he approached your father. You swallowed, he looked exactly like Evan, except older, and with a thick scar across his left eye, which looked glassy instead of dark green as the other one.

“Of course. Arkalis, we wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” your mother responded with a bright smile and extended her hand towards him. She did always tend to shine in social situations; shiny grin, elegant manners, and incredibly persuasive stance, she managed to make every single person feel at ease when she was around. You sometimes wondered if it was because of the fairy bIood, running much thicker through their veins or because she had learned, and adapted to your father’s needs.

The fairy bIood made sense, after all, the fae were known for their lavish parties and alluring abilities to humans and wizards alike.

Your father extended his hand and shook the man’s hand, who promptly turned to you. “This must be your daughter.”

You extended your hand politely, channeling a similar energy to your mother’s, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Rosier, I am–”

“Oh, I’ve heard plenty of you,” he said with a smile. You swallowed. “Horace told me about the time he teamed you up with Evan on potions, he mentioned you had done a delightful job.”

“Right,” you added as you relaxed.

“Darling, you didn’t tell us you were friends with Evan,” your mom intervened, looking at you softly.

“I didn’t?” you asked nonchalantly. “Must have forgotten,” you shrugged it off. “You know how busy it’s been since I got to the new school, with all the classes and adapting and meeting new people, new teachers and so forth.”

“Of course, of course,” intervened Arkalis. “The young girl is right, you cannot expect her to tell you every single thing.”

Well, at least he’s nicer than his child, you thought as you looked at Arkalis and nodded in agreement. Your father, who clearly thought you befriending Evan would be an excellent political advantage was looking at you with a rather stern face. Holding back from speaking but not quite hiding his feelings completely. You pouted in return and continued nodding along with Arkalis.

Eventually, Arkalis had to go and your father grabbed your arm, gently pulling you to him and whispering through gritted teeth, “You didn’t think it would be clever to tell us you are friends with his son?”

“I am so far from being friends with Evan Rosier I might as well be on a different planet entirely,” you responded as you tried to shake his hand off. Even though he had grabbed onto you gently, the fact that he had done it was upsetting, especially with how much it reminded you of being manhandled by Barty and his gang.

Your father huffed and let your arm go, you pulled it back and gave him a rather defiant look, “What? Don’t tell me I now must also make friends that are politically convenient to your career?”

“It wouldn’t hurt if you did.”

You looked at the ground bitterly, remembering the bruises on your neck and the scraping on your knee and the splinching you had gotten on that November moon, then turning back to him with a calm expression, “Wouldn’t it?”

“Darling,” your mom intervened, pulling your father from you by hooking her arm with his, “It’s the Sallows, let’s greet them,” she added, your father’s gaze softened for a second, as if he could see through your brave façade, but he turned back to your mother shortly after, and walked along with her to greet the other family.

Right, go, who gives a fuck anyway, you thought bitterly as you took off in another direction, straight to that food table that had caught your eye a few minutes ago. You picked one of the small bruschettas and took a small bite of it as you looked through the window. Smoked Salmon, you realised as you savoured it. Outside, the sun was starting to set, the gardens were vast and covered by a thick layer of snow, and there was some kind of hedge maze that appeared to be surrounding the property. Perhaps with several spells to keep the muggles away from their house. It was actually rather clever.

There were a few crows perched on the hedges, black and contrasting with the layer of snow as they picked out something from their branches. While they gave the outside a rather ominous look, it also kind of made sense, considering the heritage of the Rosiers. Some people thought they were related to the eldest Peverell brother, in fact, you had heard rumours of Arkalis looking for the Deathly Hallows, even if most people considered them nothing more than fantasies.

“What are you doing here?” a scolding voice asked.

You turned around hastily to find Regulus leaning against the table with a sneaky smirk in his mouth. You sighed, “Godric, Reggie!”

His smile widened and he shrugged, “Fancy seeing you, I spotted your parents earlier, imagined you’d be here too.”

“Well you’re as clever as sneaky, congratulations!” you said before taking another bite of your bruschetta, it was delicious.

“You shouldn’t be here though,” he added in a more serious tone, “I overheard my parents talking about–”

And then it happened, the two large doors at the entrance of the hall snapped open and a man walked inside, making the most dramatic entrance you had ever seen in your life –and you were dating Sirius Black. He looked about as old as Arkalis, except this man was much better looking, not to say Arkalis was ugly –then again, you might have been biased because you despised his son.

Regardless, something about the man was oddly familiar, he had dark hair arranged in a perfectly put-together hairstyle that swooped in a rather elegant way. He was wearing dark wizard robes, although vintage looking, clearly expensive since the material flowed with a cadence that only the finest fabrics could match. He had a charming smile plastered across his delicate features as he approached Arkalis, easily greeting him like an old friend.

You watched with curiosity, the room seemed awfully silent since he walked in, there weren’t even whispers, Regulus had gone quiet too, as if they knew the man, as if they feared him. You looked at him again, at the elegant curve of his handsome nose and that’s when you knew who he was. You pictured him with a robe, darker lighting, in a blurry photo somewhere in the Daily Prophet that insisted on avoiding the subject.

“It’s Voldemort,” you whispered as you swallowed thickly, in absolute disbelief of what was going on around you.

You’d expect someone to scream, someone to pull out their wand or at least someone to apparate the hell away, but everyone seemed perfectly fine with the fact that the self-proclaimed dark lord had just busted the party like some sort of Maleficent from the sleeping beauty.

“Reggie, do you know who that–”

He shook his head in response, not because he was responding to your question, but rather in a warning manner, clearly telling you to remain as silent as the rest of the people in the room. You gave him a look combined with a sigh and you saw his jaw tighten as he nodded his head. Another warning. Whatever was about to happen, couldn’t be good. You were in the middle of what could possibly a tеrrorist attack–

Except you weren’t.

“Tom, a pleasure to have you here already,” Arkalis said, approaching the taller man with a bright smile, as bright as the one he had greeted your dad with. No, brighter actually.

It took 10 seconds of the following exchange for you to realise that you weren’t in the middle of a tеrrorist attack but rather that you were at their dinner party.

Does my father even know? You wondered, and then you spotted him amiably talking to Orion, who seemed as relaxed as possible with the entrance of the Dark Lord into Arkalis’ party. Of course he did, you thought as you tried to hold back a scoff.

You looked around carefully, not a single wizard seemed perturbed by the situation, not a single one had raised their wands against the man. Even Reggie looked relatively at ease as he witnessed the entire exchange, as if he had seen something similar happen before, that’s when the eerie thought crept up: He has seen this before. And of course, he had, he was the perfect child, polar opposite of Sirius. When you met him he was always scared of doing something that could enrage his parents, terrified of their reaction to him even thinking the wrong thing.

While Sirius had rebelled against his parents, Regulus had set out to be the ideal child, following their orders to protect himself from the wrath his brother often faced. His survival mechanism was to be the perfect Black child, and if his parents were Dark Wizards then he would have to become one too, at least until he was old enough to flee.

You looked at him with a pained expression, feeling the same way you had when you figured that he hadn’t been the one to tell on you, but rather been forced to do it, life had been unfair to him then, and was being unfair to him now. And you had no idea if you could even find a way to help him. It was in moments like that, when you realised how much he was like Sirius, both trapped, just in different ways.

But then again, were you any different? Weren’t you also at the party talking to dark wizards like they were any other influential person in society? Weren’t you standing there, like every single other person, looking at the interaction without raising your wand?

Of course, you didn’t stand a chance in a duel against the Dark Lord, but wouldn’t the right thing be to try? Wasn’t that what you had been training to do? No, that’s not it either. You remembered a conversation you’d had with Nightshade before you started training, she had said you were talented, but that wasn’t the end of it, your father’s contacts were a key factor here. If you managed to gather enough information tonight, perhaps then you could use that information against them in the future.

In the end, you’d do what your father has asked you to do from the very start, play the role of the perfect little politician’s daughter, smile and nod and charm people in the same way your mother did often, all in the simple effort to get something useful out of their head’s tonight. You took a deep breath, all that occlumency you had been practising would be more necessary than it had ever been.

“Excellent, why don’t we eat now?” Tom asked with a charming smile, “I believe you have a surprise prepared for later tonight.”

Evil doesn´t always look the part, you thought as you stared at him, he had a charisma similar to that of your mother, if a little sinister. He walked alongside Arkalis, who was quickly joined by his wife Astoria Rosier, an elegant, fair-haired woman that looked far younger than she could possibly be. Orion and your father followed next, along with a few other people whom you hadn’t identified yet.

“Not everyone will dine with them I assume?” you said turning to Regulus.

He shook his head in response, “Only some of us will.”

“Of course,” you said with a nod, you too were expected to sit on the same table as them.

You walked alongside Regulus and a few more people towards one of the doors, you saw Evan joining their parents. Barty was at the party too, you had spotted him in the distance earlier, but it seemed he wasn’t going to be part of the few selected, since he had stayed where he was, talking to a girl whom you didn’t recognize from school, but that oddly reminded you of your boyfriend.

When you reached the table inside the private dining room, you realised the seats had been tagged for everyone. Tom, as Arkalis kept calling the most evil wizard alive, had taken the head of the table while the host, and unsurprisingly, Orion, had taken the two seats next to him. Your father was right next to Orion and there was a rather young man with pale blond hair, as long as Lily’s but completely straight. He couldn’t have been much older than you, he looked in his early twenties at most, a child.

Your mother was close to your father, Astoria and Walburga right next to her. From there, there was a stern-looking man who you didn’t recognize and a curly-haired woman who looked about as unhinged as Barty. It was your position on the table that you found dire, you were sitting across from your mother and in between the long-haired blond, who looked displeased by having you sitting there instead of someone else and none other than Evan Rosier. When you saw his name next to yours on the small floating name tags, you had to bite your tongue to avoid the displeased sigh that was just about to escape your mouth.

When you sat down, the small paper with your name displayed on it disappeared, and on your plate appeared a fresh-looking salad. Evan sat down beside you a couple of minutes afterwards.

“Evan,” you greeted with a tight smile and a simple nod. Yes, you had to play a part, that didn’t mean you’d have to be best friends with Evan Rosier for the night. Why was Regulus so damn far away? You swore he was about the one other person in this entire party with whom you’d actually want to be sitting and there were about seven other people in between the two of you. You took a deep breath and turned to your salad as if it were the most interesting thing in the entire dining room, perking your ears when you heard Orion speak again.

They mentioned something regarding the salad being fresh, which you thought was the most philistine compliment someone could ever give, and then they started going on about the weather. Apparently, it had been an abnormally cold winter in England this year. And while White Christmas’ weren’t uncommon, they were a lot more rare than they had been in the past few years.

You heard your mother say something about global warming to Walburga, who seemed puzzled as if she had never heard the term in her life, which in hindsight she might not have since she lived in her own little pure-bIood wizard bubble and tended to stay the hell away from muggle news. Your parents always knew what was happening with the muggles, they thought it was important to stay informed to be able to maintain the relationships between the muggle world and the wizarding world as forthcoming as possible.

You stabbed a small piece of tomato and brought it to your mouth as you thought of how stupidly prosaic the small talk of dark wizards was. Were they holding back because it was a Christmas dinner? Were they all going to pretend Voldemort wasn’t sitting at the head of the table, eating the same boring salad as the rest of you?

How did they even manage to accomplish all their evil deeds if they were just talking about the scores of the latest quidditch championships? Okay, that was Evan talking with whoever was sitting beside him, but still. These people were supposed to be the most dangerous wizards on the planet and yet they were–

“So tell me, how is the little errand I asked for going?” Asked Tom.

There it is, you thought as you sat a little straighter and paid closer attention to their conversation. By now the salad had disappeared and there was a broccoli soup sitting across from you, the taste was actually pretty good, quite cheesy. Apparently, cheese was the right choice no matter how morally diverse the audience you were hosting was. Although, you weren’t sure their audience really was all that morally diverse, except for you and perhaps Regulus.

“Excellent,” Arkalis responded as he turned to Tom, he looked awfully pleased with himself. “They’re downstairs, waiting for the show.”

Tom took a spoon of his soup and then smiled. You saw a snake slowly creeping up his chair, and he seemed awfully comfortable around her when he noticed. The snake hissed and he said something back to her. He speaks parseltongue.

Now, that might not be new information for Dumbledore, but it was to you. The Daily Prophet didn’t talk about all the skills the Dark Lord had honed through the years. It’s ridiculous, you thought. What if someone tried to use serpensortia against him and got killed by their own spell? Of course, someone who thought that spell was enough to go against Voldemort was going to get killed later on anyway. Regardless, it should already be common knowledge what he was good and bad at.

“Good, I suppose we’ll be enjoying the spectacle when the dinner’s done?”

“Indeed,” Orion said this time around. “Things must be prepared for the ceremony.”

Ceremony? What fucking ceremony? You thought as you took another spoon of your soup. You tried to keep your eyes on it, as if not to seem like you were prying.

“Is the soup really that interesting to you?”

Godricbedamned, not now fuckface, you thought as you turned around to Evan, “It’s really good, actually. More interesting than you and your friend gushing about your quidditch crushes for sure.”

The blond man next to you, whom you had now learned was Lucius, snorted when he heard your reply while Evan clenched his jaw and looked at his parents nervously, as if trying to make sure he hadn’t caught your exchange. You followed his gaze and then turned back to look at him with a slight smirk. So that was a low blow then? You thought as you recalled, he had only talked about male players with his other friend.

Oh, it’s because Daddy doesn’t know. Better leave the subject behind. You weren’t planning to out him, no matter how much of an asshole he continued to be, even if last time he had actually gotten Severus off your back. Speaking of him, it was a delight not to have to see his long face around, looks like his family didn’t make the cut to be invited to the pit of snakes you were currently in.

“At least I have someone that’s interested in talking to me.”

“If I was interested in talking, I’d have already struck a conversation Evan, not all of us are eager to say every single thing that comes to mind.”

“You wish.”

You hmphed at that and turned your head to the other side, “Lucius, would you mind passing me the salt?” you asked politely. He turned to you a little confused at first, as if he was surprised you had talked to him and then nodded, handing over the salt to you an instant later. “Thank you. Your shoes are very elegant, by the way.”

Lucius seemed both surprised and pleased that you had noticed his shoes. They were impeccable like he had either bought them for this event or had them cleaned and polished. He had walked with slow decision as he approached the table earlier, and when you spotted his shoes, you realised why he was being as careful with them as he had been with his hair throughout the night. This man cared about looking good.

“Oh, thank you,” he said with a smile. “I got them custom-made by a very elegant designer, you might have heard of him, Alistar Shoman.”

Gotcha!

“You’re telling me that’s a pair of Shomans? That’s incredible.”

Lucius seemed pretty pleased with the conversation, you threw a side glance at Evan who just scoffed and turned to speak to his friend again, all the while you looked at Lucius and pretended the history of the Shoman company was the most interesting thing in the world. Perhaps it was just slightly more interesting than the broccoli soup.

Then you heard your name drop from Orion’s mouth and you turned to him with the most polite expression you could muster.

Fuck. You had been paying so much attention to Lucius’ stupid talk to prove Evan wrong that you had missed the one bit of relevant information they had been talking about, and now they were calling you for some reason. What a miserable spy you would make.

“Yes, Mr. Black?” You asked.

“We were just talking about the fact that we’ve been so busy that we haven’t been able to go watch the Quidditch Matches recently, but we’ve been told they have been outstandingly interesting.”

You felt the tension in his voice, they probably knew you had sought against Regulus in the Slytherin vs Gryffindor Match.

“They have been,” you said with a nod. “Quidditch is certainly something intense at Hogwarts, all of the teams are incredibly capable. It certainly has been a challenge to be able to keep up with my position.”

Orion laughed at that, “Such modesty.”

You swallowed, unsure how to respond to that but with a small smile. “Slughorn told me you were one of the most promising players,” added Arkalis. “Some teams are already considering you…”

That actually caught you by surprise, you loved quidditch, but you had never actually considered making a career out of it. Lucius turned to you with newfound interest, as if now that he knew what you were capable of you had become actually interesting to him, beyond whatever fashion talk you had held earlier. It was hard to hold the urge to glare at him for it.

“I’m sure all of the players in this table are as good as me, or even better,” you said, thinking of Regulus, and playing your role of clever guest, even if you had given Evan a compliment with it. It wasn’t a lie, Evan was a good chaser, but he was also a total asshole.

“And yet, your team won in the last match,” Arkalis said, making sure to look down on his son as he spoke the last line.

You didn’t turn your gaze to Evan but you could tell he had lowered his gaze from the little you saw in the corner of your eyes. No wonder the boy was like he was, his father was even worse than him. You felt a little pity towards Evan, even if you still disliked him thoroughly.

You decided driving the conversation to a different subject would be the best thing to do before things got even more tense. “How did you meet Professor Slughorn?” you asked, managing to have a genuinely curious look on your face as you did.

“We studied with him,” replied Tom, turning to look at you with a chill-inducing smirk, both charming and dangerous at the same time. He definitely had that cult-leader vibe going for him, no wonder so many people were so eager to follow him, it wasn’t just because he was powerful or because of their shared hate towards muggles, most of the men in the room shared those 2 characteristics. The one thing that made the difference was how much more charming this man was in comparison. “We were both in the Slug Club too, weren’t we, Arkalis?”

Arkalis hummed in response, “Indeed, he used to say Tom was the most brilliant student he ever taught.”

“He likes playing favourites,” you added with a smile.

“He does indeed,” agreed Arkalis, and eyed his son again, his gaze reproachful and thunderous. “He told me you and Evan made an excellent team.”

You remembered that day and tried not to shudder at the thought of Evan’s hand squeezing your injury, “Right we did,” you said as you placed your hand on his shoulder, making sure to dig your nails enough to make him uncomfortable. “He’s delightful to work with,” somehow you managed to make that sound honest rather than sarcastic. “He’s especially good at measuring and mixing.”

Arkalis seemed pleased with your praising of his son, and you thought they might start talking more the more pleased he was, especially since his wine wasn’t refilling fast enough. In fact, every single person in the room seemed to be drinking moderately, as if they were trying to keep their heads clear for whatever surprise they were talking about earlier.

“We’ve been friends ever since, haven’t we Ev?” you added with a charming smile.

“Right,” Evan added, “Best friends.”

Arkalis seemed pleased with the response, your father still looked irritated over the fact that you hadn’t told him about your friendship with Evan, even more so since he thought you lied to him earlier when you said you and Evan were light years away from becoming friends. The rest of the table seemed to buy your lie, except for Regulus who was looking at you with a rather anxious look on his face. While he didn’t know everything Evan had done to you, he had a pretty good idea of some of the things based on things he had heard at the Slytherin table.

You smiled shortly and then someone who you didn’t recognize said something to Arkalis and drew the conversation away from the two of you. Evan leaned over, “What the hell are you playing at?” he asked.

“I’m playing my role as a nice guest, how about you play the one of a nice host and we pretend we don’t hate each other’s guts for the night?” you retorted. “Your father seemed pleased enough about our friendship or whatever.”

“You shouldn’t have come tonight.”

“As if I wanted to,” you scoffed and turned back to listening to the adult’s conversation, they were now going on about the Ministry of Magic. They mentioned something about how he was now doing exactly what he was meant to do and you felt chills run down your spine when you spotted Voldemort’s smile.

The Ministry is on his hands, no wonder there is no news about him on the daily prophet. Just how many deatheaters are out there? All infiltrated on normal day jobs and working towards making the world a much darker place… the idea was horrifying, and yet everyone at the table seemed incredibly pleased with it.

Eventually, you finished dinner, Tom was the first one to stand and he said something about it being time for a show. At this point, you dreaded finding out whatever the hell was his idea of entertainment, from what you’d heard, it couldn’t have been good.

You were on your way towards the exit, trying to find Regulus again when Arkalis walked beside you and offered you his arm, “Darling, would you mind talking to me for a second?” he asked, using a charm similar, but not nearly as masterful as the one Voldemort had.

You looked around trying to find Regulus, of course, Arkalis had asked, but the way he had said it was enough for you to know that it wasn’t actually an option to say ‘no’. Reggie was a few feet from you and he sent you another anxious glance before Orion intercepted him.

“Sure, of course,” you replied as you felt Arkalis’ hand over your shoulder, urging you for an answer, you hooked your hand in his and followed him to a different room, completely missing the absolutely terrified look on Evan’s face.

“How may I be of help to you, Mr. Rosier?” You asked calmly, whatever reason Arkalis had to bring you to the library, it was not intending to hurt you, at least you hoped it wasn’t. And the chances were low since it would be a very stupid decision to make considering who your father was, and how close he seemed to be to Orion, who, you had concluded, was closer to Voldemort than Arkalis, even if they had studied together.

Whether you liked it or not, your parents’ connection to Orion Black, was the reason you were safe in this party.

“You’re friends with Evan, correct?”

You heard a shuffling at the end of the room, turning to look but finding nothing, you narrowed your eyes in that direction only for a second before turning back to Arkalis, he didn’t look like an overly patient man, “Indeed.”

“Excellent,” he said with a nod and then smiled, a smile so warm and kind that you might have bought his good intentions if you hadn’t been deterred by the thing that left his mouth afterwards, “You would tell me if he was doing something he shouldn’t be doing, right?”

Like threatening to throw me off the astronomy tower, choke me and throw me off my broom along with his boyfriend? Sure, you thought.

“Something he shouldn’t be doing?” You played dumb, that seemed to always do the trick for people like Arkalis.

“I’ve heard some rumours about my son.”

Rumours? You wondered. Whatever the hell is he–

“People have been saying he’s really close to a boy in school.”

“Evan has many friends,” you responded, just now guessing what Arkalis could mean.

“Closer than that,” he told you. “It’s a… deviation that happens to muggle men often?”

Fucking hell, you thought when you realised what he meant. Arkalis wants to know if Evan is gay, but the way he approached the subject, using the words “deviation” and “muggle” with such derision. You tilted your head slightly, trying not to look offended by his homophobia.

“I’m not sure I understand, Sir, Evan has many friends.”

“I mean, does he have a boyfriend?” Arkalis asked.

There it is. You played surprised at that. You heard another movement on the side, “Oh, Merlin no!” you said surprised. “I would definitely know if Evan had a boyfriend,” you said, trying to sound as confident as possible. It wasn’t completely a lie, you did know.

Then you felt Arkalis trying to prickle at your mind, looking for something, inside of it, the truth, you realised. And then you gave him what he wanted to see. You used every single ounce of mental power to conjure up one image and one image only. Evan pushing you against the railing of the Astronomy tower, hand in your throat and leaning onto you, the same way it had happened then except, there was no one else, and rather than lean over to threaten you, Evan was leaning over to kiss you.

You tried to hold your thoughts of disgust at the image being projected on your mind as much as possible, but you knew that, at least that scene, would get Arkalis off of Evan’s back for a while.

No, you didn’t like Evan, you’d go as far as to say that you hated his guts, but no matter how much hate you harboured for the blond, you would never out him, let alone to a clearly abusive and homophobic father like Arkalis. Take it as the good deed of the day, you thought as you used memories of kisses with Sirius to make the scene more realistic.

Eventually, Arkalis stopped digging inside your mind and you felt relief wash over you, allowing the horrifying image of kissing Evan Rosier to dissolve. Arkalis pulled back with a pleased smile. “What a deceptive little thing,” he said as he looked at you with a smirk and grabbed onto your jaw to pull your head up slightly. You gave him an innocent look in return, as if you had no idea what he was talking about.

Does he know I’m trying to trick him? Did he notice?, you wondered as you moved your hand towards your dress pocket to try and find your wand.

“Pardon?” You asked meekly.

“We all thought you were dating Orion’s eldest son,” he said Sirius’ name with scorn, and you had the urge to spit on his face, you somehow managed to hold back.

“I am dating Sirius,” you replied with an innocent frown, voice still soft, still playing a part, Arkalis had to think you had no idea he had dug inside your mind.

His smile just widened, “Of course, my bad,” he said with a smile and pulled his hand away from your face. “If you see Evan tell him I’m proud of him. He’s got a good eye for women.”

You swallowed thickly but managed to give him a confused nod in response. It was meant to be a compliment, and yet it made you want to puke, you definitely did not like Arkalis better than you did Evan. You didn’t even like him better than you liked Barty.

“Uhm… of course, Sir,” you replied, still playing dumb, his smile grew wider and he bowed his head before exiting the room.

When he was gone you allowed yourself to sigh, shutting your eyes as you thought over everything that had happened. And then you felt a hand in your arm, gripping tightly, just like he had back in potions class.

“What the hell was that about?” Evan asked from behind, he looked absolutely baffled.

“Oh, Evan, you were the one eavesdropping then,” you replied with a sigh and shoved your arm to try and pry his hands off of it. So fucking handsy, you thought as you remembered his father’s stupid hands on your jaw. “Do you mind?”

Evan seemed just as puzzled and slightly angry now too, and while he didn’t let go of you entirely, he did loosen his grip, which you were thankful for. “Why did you–? What the hell did you tell my father?”

“You know, the right way to express what you’re feeling right now is to say thank you,” you replied annoyed, you hadn’t saved his ass for him to be a total asshole about it.

He finally let your arm go completely and passed a hand through his hair, “What I mean to say is, you know about me and Barty, you could have told him, gotten rid of the two of us in an instant, my father would have probably sent me abroad to some other school if he found out and yet you… made him assume I like a woman?”

You sighed, “Look, Evan. I don’t like you, okay? You’ve been an asshole to me from the fucking start and frankly, I wish I could beat the fuck out of you sometimes, but there are lines that I’m not willing to cross. No matter how much of an asshole you are, I would never out someone just because I dislike them, let alone to someone like your father.” And then you scoffed, “Muggle-deviation, fucking hell, just say gay.”

Evan was speechless after that, he wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure what he should say or if he even should. Perhaps he really should thank you for covering for him, but even that would feel empty. What you had done might have been one of the nicest things anyone had done for him in his entire life, but how could an enemy be the one to do that?

“I– I mean I–”

You sighed again, “Just… leave it,” you said and left the room, and an incredibly confused Evan inside of it.

Evan disliked you, he disliked you for throwing a Quaffle on Barty’s face and breaking his beautiful nose, he hated you for being a know-it-all, he hated you for being good at quidditch and he hated you for being such a self-righteous prick who considered herself better than him. He hated you for constantly teasing Barty and Mulciber and Snape, he hated you for how reckless you were and for picking up fights with people who were bigger and stronger without backing down from them. And his whole idea of you was crumbling down because he wasn’t sure he would have done the same thing in your position. If he knew how to destroy you, would he have hesitated?

Would he have saved you too?

Evan sank to the floor and started to cry, he wasn’t sure if the thick salty drops falling from his eyes were from angry or relieved tears. He didn’t know why he was crying, he just knew he couldn’t stop. The complexity of his emotions churned within him. You had the power to vanish him, you could have told his dad and the one bit of happiness he’d found would have been gone in an instant. He wouldn’t have seen Barty ever again.

Did you even know how much you had done for him in that 5-minute talk you’d had with Arkalis?

Years of hiding, years of being careful, years of feeling like he was wrong, and that what he liked was poisonous, deserving of mistreatment and scorn, years of dreading his father finding something, anything that could out him. All gone in a small little chat, where you barely even fucking spoke. The smile Arkalis had made, the relief in his eyes –the acceptance– that made Evan want to cry even more. Because no matter how great he was, no matter how perfect he was, he would never, ever be truly accepted by his father. Never would he make him as happy as you had by implying to him he liked a girl.

He was miserable, and out of all people, you had been the one to make his sorrow, even if it was just slightly, less painful, less burdensome and less suffocating.

Yet, despite the relief, Evan couldn't shake the lingering bitterness that consumed him. He resented you for knowing his weak spot, and yet, beneath the layer of resentment and anger, there was a tiny ember of gratitude, a flicker of acknowledgement for the unexpected reprieve you had granted him. As he sat there, tears staining his cheeks, he wasn’t sure he could continue hating you anymore.

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A/N: This might be one of my favourite chapters to write. I really like those emotionally charged scenes, but you've probably already noticed. Also, even antagonistic characters have feelings and boy, do some of them run deep... Poor Evan (I told you guys I did like the Slytherin boys, but the rivalry still exists. Even if, to their different points of view, the villain might just be, well: us. Love, Lils xx

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staytinyville · 1 year ago

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Stay Alive (1)

BTS ot7 x Reader

Magical Creatures AU

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Warnings: None

A/N I am very excited for this story! It has a good amount of world building that I enjoy doing so much! I took inspiration from Stay Alive by Jungkook/Suga in case you guys didn’t know! The beginnings are of course slow but that’s how most stories are to build up the tension. I hopeful for this story and I hope you all like it! Please feel free to ask if you want to be added to the taglist!

People walk among the same earth constantly. However the thing that sets us apart is the path we all take. Sometimes it's the same, other times it's the opposite. Some of us are meant for higher things while some are meant to suffer until things start to look up for us all.

In a lifetime sometimes we won’t ever get the chance to see ourselves reach the peak we want. There are struggles we all face that will cause setbacks in the path we are taking. Only the ones who are strong enough to see the road to the end make it out alive.

There will always be those out there who will achieve their goals in life some way or another. Those are the ones who don’t allow those setbacks to dictate their entire life. And maybe along the way someone will come along to help you grow stronger. Whether it’s one person or a whole group. You will see to the end of your path one way or another.

“Most often than not you will be working on filing. If we are understaffed on a day, like today, we might send you in to write reports on the medicine we have already administered.” Suho, the lady who was placed as your preceptor, explained to you.

You had a grateful smile on your face, happy to finally get to start working. While it wasn’t the place you had been hoping for, you knew the pay was well for the kind of student debts you had. The pharmaceutical lab was meant to administer different kinds of medicines to the people who would sign up for a trial. They did the test on patients before they were given out to people.

While you were being placed on the front desk for the most part, you knew you would need to work your way up to the spot you wanted and you were more than happy to reach for it.

“What kind of medicine do you guys make?” You asked, trying to think about all that you had read on the company's website.

It didn’t really give much about what they focus on so you found it really odd that they were so wide when it came to the things they were trying to cure.

“You applied here and don't even know?” Suho frowned, looking at you appalled.

“I tried asking at the interview but they just gave me vague answers.” You explained. “The website doesn't tell you anything either.”

“We are very on top of the things we do here at HYBE.” She began to tell you. “There aren’t many people we trust to be hired onto the team so consider yourself lucky to be apart of it.”

“We make sure that our patients here are taken care of because we are a company that is trying hard to reach their goals. Because of that we are detail oriented when it comes to the patients we accept. Not just anyone can be a patient here.”

While she did a bit more about the kind of company you were working at, it still didn’t really tell you about what it was you were working for. You didn’t choose to question it, knowing that the paycheck they gave you was a luxury for a lot of people.

“Here are some of your patients for the day. They have already been given the medicine, it's up to you to check up on them for daily research.” You took the six files the lady handed you, nodding your head.

You placed them onto the small desk area they had given you before going through them to check on the appointment times and ordering them correctly. The first one on your list should be waiting in the lobby by now so you were quick to take the papers and move along to the waiting room.

“Mrs. Han?” You called, a smile on your face.

An older woman with a younger one came to a stand, slowly shuffling over to where you waited for them at the door.

“Hello, Mrs. Han. How are you today?” You asked politely, leading the two women towards the scale.

“I'm doing great! I'm so excited to share some news about the medicine you gave me.” The older woman exclaimed, a bright smile on her face.

You hummed, keeping the friendly look as you wrote down her weight on the paper. You told them to follow you to a patient room to speak to her privately.

“I see it was something for your dementia.” You spoke, moving the laptop in the room closer so you could take down everything the lady would tell you. “Is everything going okay?”

“It's wonderful!” The other lady exclaimed for her mother. At least you assumed it was her daughter from the notes that people already had written for you. Her daughter was the one who was in charge of all Mrs. Han’s things.

“You would not believe it but it's almost as though she's regressed in her illness! Mother was in a terrible state when she was offered this trial medicine. She took it and suddenly it was almost like she went back to before it grew to be terrible.”

You tried to write down what the woman was saying, but you knew there were more questions to ask before concluding the entire meeting.

“Maybe she can get back to normal if she takes more.” The daughter spoke in a hopeful tone.

“One step at a time, Mrs. Byun.” You kept the smile on your face so as to not let them think they weren’t going to find the help they needed. “We have to see how long this medicine will last first before giving her more doses.” You explained.

“Also, memory loss is nothing to be overly worried about if it's on occasion. Even I forget something's as well.” You told them.

If there was one thing you studied, it was medicine. You knew the consequences of taking too much or too little. This company was in the slow movement of developing them so they had to be careful about how they administered their projects. People probably came in thinking they could get more if they worked perfectly the first time. However these kinds of things were tests, not the real deal.

“Of course.” Mrs. Byun nodded in understanding.

The rest of the visit went by smoothly as you took down all the older woman’s rants and aches about the whole thing. With these kinds of surveys it was really about asking how each patient felt even if it was the smallest of things. You wouldn’t be able to tell if it had to do with the medicine or with something else.

As you told Mrs. Han and her daughter goodbye, scheduling the next appointment, the rest of you patient trickled in one-by-one.

There was a man who had come in for a bad liver–he was an avid drinker–so the medicine was for corrosion to that organ. While you really tried not to say something about it, you felt annoyed that the man had explained that he still had a drink every once in a while. He was like Mrs. Han, the medicine was doing wonders.

There was a child who had chickenpox, who’s mother explained that the rash that had taken over her son’s body was slowly dwindling down. Another lady who had come in for amnesia which only said that her memory was returning to before she had gotten into an accident. The others had external injuries like scrapes of their knees or a deep cut that needed stitches. From what you could see they were just given some sort of pain medication. They had expressed that their wounds didn’t hurt and it was actually healing at a fast rate.

“They really work with a lot of medicine.” You spoke to yourself as you looked over the last file you had. You frowned your eyebrows when you saw the patient was in another level of the building. It was the lower levels, which meant in the basement of sorts. From what you knew that was where the labs were.

“That's odd.” You tilted your head in confusion but made your way over to the elevators anyway. With your ID card, you pressed onto one of the underground levels, leaning back against the metal wall. When the doors opened, you were met with a lobby that had a couple of different doctors moving about.

Following the signs, you found the door that led to some of the rooms patients were stationed in. You showed the security guard your ID explaining you were in that level of the building to check up on a patient. He took a look at the file you had in your hand, humming as he opened a door to the back for you.

Overlooking the file once more to make sure you had the right number, you quietly counted the doors. As you passed by one, you felt a shiver go down your back causing you to halt in your tracks. The number three stared back at you as a weird feeling flowed over your shoulders. It felt like something was brushing up against them, pushing at your form.

You quickly turned back around making your way to the room next to it. You checked over the file one more time. It didn’t really give you much about the medicine the patient had been given. All it said was that they were someone who was meant to be staying in the building for better observation. There were a couple of papers that you seemed to be missing, you noticed.

Before opening the door, you knocked politely. “Hello?” You softly called as you stuck your head in.

The only light on was the bedside lamp which illuminated the dark room. You frowned at the aspect of there being no windows that would allow light from outside to come in. As you walked in closer, you let go of the door to have it shut by itself. “Mr. Jeon?”

“Who are you?” You gasped, nearly tripping on your feet from the hard flinch you felt take over.

You took in the man who was standing behind you, trying to regulate your breathing. He only looked at you with a raised brow, his expression passive. You took up his large form, noticing the blue scrubs he wore were almost tight around his physic. He didn’t wear any shoes–was even foregoing to wear socks.

“Oh,” You said as your breath returned to your lungs. “My name is (Y/N). Today is my first day so I guess I'll be your new nurse.” You explained to him.

“What are you doing here?” As he took a step closer to you, you subconsciously took one back. “You don't deserve to be here.” His voice went quiet as his eyes turned soft.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in his worried expression, smiling awkwardly as you patted your hands to wipe the sweat forming on them.

“I needed a job. Got school debt to pay off.” You tried to joke with him. He looked too serious, which made you anxious to touch him for his vitals. “I'm here to do a check up. Would you mind?” You asked, trying to build up the courage to get close to him.

He didn’t say anything, just poked his cheek with his tongue, moving to the bed. You smiled in thanks, looking around the room to find the equipment needed. You purse your lips when you realize you would need to check his heart rate manually. Finding the padding needed to place around his arm, you made your way over to the man.

He flinched back as your hands moved to touch his arm, causing you to stop. “I’m going to check your heart rate.” You explained, remembering that you were the kind of person to make sure people knew what it was you were going to do.

As he kept his dark eyes on you, he allowed you to softly touch his scrub sleeve as you moved the fabric up to place the padding in the right area of the arm. You moved your stethoscope from around your neck. “It’s going to be a bit cold.” You whispered.

As you moved on with the check up, you watched the numbers on the dial move carefully counting to yourself. When you finished getting what you needed, you quickly let go of the air and moved the padding off his arm. As you did that, your eyes seemed to blur over the ink the man had.

Your fingers gently squeezed his bicep, softly moving down the length of his arm. Your gaze drifted over each color and picture the man had, trying to figure out where one picture ended and the next started. As your fingers glided over his pulse on his wrists, the man involuntarily shivered at the touch.

“Sorry.” You quickly pulled back, looking back up at him. “Your tattoos are really nice. I've never seen so many.” You bashfully smiled at him.

He only looked at you curiously, his big eyes taking in your facial expressions. It made you feel flustered as he looked at you so deeply, causing you to lick your lips and look away.

“You have a very strong heart. Very good blood flow.” You told him, turning away to write down his vitals. He slowly got off the bed and moved closer to you.

“It doesn't say which medicine you've been taking which is really weird.” You frowned, looking over all the papers that you were given. There were some things missing but you assumed the high ups were looking over it.

“You're different.” You jumped at the voice that spoke directly behind you. Turning around you tilted your head up at the man.

“How so?” You asked.

“You're nice.” The boy squinted his eyes at you, like he was trying to figure you out.

“Are the others not?” You frowned.

“Not the ones who come down here.” He told you.

You tried to quickly cover up your upset expression, looking up at the doe-eyed man with a smile. “Well I hope I'm able to come down here again.” You took up the paper you had written on. There wasn’t much explanation on what you had to ask him so you chose to go back up and see if you could figure out what else to do.

“Have a good day, Mr. Jeon.” You smiled brightly, waving from the door.

Jungkook tilted his head to the side as a warmth spread through his chest from your words. Not a day had gone by that he wasn't thinking about the dreaded place as though it was a sentence in hell. He had never met someone like you; someone who spoke to him as though he too was a person.

It made him light headed to think about the way your words affected him. He couldn't think of the last time someone had ever uttered those kinds of words to him. It had been so long-alone thinking this was what life was going to be like for the rest of his life. But suddenly things changed in the blink of an eye.

“Maybe.”

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aquaticmercy · 11 days ago

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The Future’s Overdue

Summary : A year after breaking up with Sam Wilson, he shows up at your doorstep.

Pairing : Cap!Sam Wilson x ex-avenger!reader (written with she/her in mind, but I don’t think there’s gendered language in this)

Warnings/tags : mentions of violence and trauma, cursing. Mild alcohol consumption. Angst with a happy ending.

Word count : 3.7K

Note : This fic was inspired by the song ‘Overcome’ by Nothing but Thieves. And of course the Brave New World trailer. That flight suit? Phew. When he sliced that truck in half?? Have mercy on me my god. I do have a couple of other requests for Sam but I have so many WIPs and series so please bear with me. Enjoy!

You first met Sam in Washington, when Steve realised Hydra was growing inside of S.H.I.E.L.D.

It was the day three helicarriers got shot out of the sky.

You and Sam were initially just two operatives thrown in the mission together by coincidence— and a little persuasion on Steve Rogers' part.

When the dust settled, you found a strange comfort in each other, a kind of trust that only comes from people who've survived the same battles together. It was a friendship— one you had with Steve and Nat, too.

But Sam was unlike anyone you’d ever met. He was compassionate without being naive, funny without sacrificing his strength, and fiercely loyal without ever being overbearing. Everyone in your line of work fought with anger or a sense of duty— and Sam did, too. But he also fought with his heart, with a passion and a clarity of purpose that earned an incredible amount of admiration from you.

But it wasn’t until after Sokovia fell from the sky that you realised just how much he really meant to you.

The battle against Ultron had been brutal, a mission that left you questioning everything you’d come to believe.

You stood among the rubble, surrounded by your teammates, and yet you felt more alone than ever.

The realisation hit you: time was fleeting. You didn’t have forever, and you didn’t want to keep ignoring the one thing that had started to matter more than any mission you’d ever had.

So that night, you sought Sam out. The rest of the team had been decompressing, recovering, but you pulled Sam into a quiet spot away from the others, somewhere under the night sky, where the stars glimmered faintly against the smoke. You didn’t say much, just let the silence and the closeness speak for itself.

When he looked at you, something like affection flickered in his eyes, a hope that maybe he meant as much to you as you did to him. It was then that you closed the space between you and kissed him—gently, like he was made of glass.

In a way, he was. This life was fragile, and his was one you couldn’t bear to lose.

After that, you spent as much time together as you could manage. Between missions, you’d crave moments of normalcy. Walks in quiet parks, stolen weekend getaways, breakfasts cooked together in your shared apartment.

These small, simple moments began to feel like home, like the life you’d never thought you could have.

Then came the Sokovia accords.

When you and Sam sided with Steve, you didn't realise how everything could go so wrong.

Your world turned upside down again. You became a fugitive, a person without a country, constantly on the run, evading governments, ducking the scrutiny of former allies. Sam stayed by your side, fighting the same battle as you.

Despite the danger, despite the sacrifices, the exile only strengthened your relationship. He was your safe haven, the one person you trusted wholly.

One night, as you sat together in some safe house with peeling wallpaper and torn furniture, you dared to voice the thought you’d been carrying for so long.

"One day,” you said, almost hesitantly, “when we’re done running, when all of this is behind us… I want a real life, Sam. With you.”

He looked at you then, his smile one of equal parts sadness and hope. “Tell me more,” he murmured, smiling just a little.

“I want to marry you,” you confessed, voice trembling. “I want a house. Somewhere no one can find us. I want a family, Sam.”

For a moment, he was silent, his thumb brushing along the back of your hand. “One day. When the world stops chasing us,” He pulled you close, his words a quiet promise against your ear. “I’ll give you all of that.”

For the first time in a long time, the future felt like something worth looking forward to. It felt like something you could actually touch, something just out of reach but waiting for you.

His promise lingered: that once you were free, once you weren’t running anymore, you’d be able to build that life together.

But then came the Battle of Wakanda, and the life you had both fought so hard for vanished in an instant as you were both erased from existence, dusted away by Thanos’s snap. For five years, you were gone.

When you returned, everything had changed. The world was broken and scattered, When you looked at Sam, you saw it, too— the realisation that so much of everything was gone. How much of the world needed fixing.

And you knew your Sam. He would want to fix it.

You saw the responsibility that had been thrust upon him. You watched him take the shield, watched him step up in a way that was brave and selfless. Everything about this was so unmistakably Sam. Your Sam.

In that moment, you knew that the life you’d dreamed of, the one you’d whispered about in the dark, wasn’t possible— not when the world still needed him.

It broke you, knowing you had to leave, to walk away from the man you loved. But you both knew that your paths were diverging. You wanted peace, family, a quiet life that had no place in the shadow of Captain America’s legacy. And Sam, with Steve’s shield in his hands, couldn’t turn away from the fight.

It happened on a quiet evening, back in the small apartment you shared. The shadows were long, stretching across the worn wood floors, as the last light of the day reached through the windows.

Sam was sitting across from you, his hands folded on the table, and his face was set in an expression you’d come to recognize—the one he wore when he was carrying something too heavy to keep inside. You saw it in the slump of his shoulders, the way his usually loving gaze couldn’t quite meet yours. You reached out, caressing his arm.

Finally, you broke the silence. “Sam,” you said, voice wavering. “Are we okay?”

He looked up then, his eyes meeting yours, and the sorrow there was enough to make your chest tighten. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I don’t know if… if I can give you the life you deserve.”

The silence stretched on, thick and heavy, until finally, you pulled your hand from his. “Then we have to let this go,” you said, voice cracking with finality. “I can’t keep waiting for a life that isn’t going to happen.”

The look in his eyes was almost unbearable—regret, pain, and love all tangled together, raw and unguarded. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick.

“I’m sorry, too,” you replied, your vision blurred

The first tear drawn came from him. “I’ll always love you,” he said, his voice a quiet, broken promise.

You looked at him, feeling the truth of those words resonate in your lungs. You would always love him too, but love alone couldn’t bridge the gap between the lives you wanted. It was heartbreaking, knowing you’d finally found something so good, only to have it slip through your fingers.

You stood up, needing to move before you changed your mind, before you broke down completely. “Goodbye, Sam,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out.

“Goodbye,” he murmured, holding back everything he couldn’t say. He didn’t try to stop you, didn’t reach for you as you turned and walked toward the door.

You both knew that if he did, you wouldn’t have the strength to walk away.

–

In the weeks after the breakup, you tried to convince yourself it would get easier, that the pain would fade. But the truth was, every day only sharpened the ache. It was clear that your lives were leading in opposite directions now, that Sam was destined for something larger than either of you had once imagined.

He had the shield, the responsibility, the weight of a legacy that he hadn’t chosen but that fit him as naturally as if it were always meant to be his.

And you? Well, after retiring, you finally had the quiet, the simplicity of a life you’d always craved, but it felt hollow without him.

You still loved him, of course.

That was the hardest part.

There was no switch to flip, no way to undo the love that had grown in the depths of your heart. And he loved you too— you knew that as surely as you knew that the sun would rise tomorrow, the kind of knowledge you felt deep in your bones.

But you both recognized that clinging to each other, seeing each other, would only deepen the hurt. So you made the hardest choice, cutting contact to give yourselves space to move forward, even if it felt like cutting out a piece of your heart.

You would go through your days thinking about Sam, feeling his absence as a phantom weight by your side. Sometimes, you’d catch yourself reaching for your phone, feeling the urge to share a thought, a joke, a memory— only to remember he was gone from your life now.

It was a loneliness harsher than any pain you’d felt before, and you've been shot at and stabbed multiple times. Sometimes, you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too— if he missed you as much as you missed him.

Months went by, and the world kept turning, but you could never fully escape him. And then one day, you saw him on the screen. It was in the news, footage of Sam at the Smithsonian, standing before the shield as he laid it down, offering it back. You watched in stunned silence as he walked away from the legacy Steve had entrusted to him. He looked so different from the man you’d known—tired, torn, and full of questions only he could answer.

Still, you knew he’d only given up the shield, not the fight. There was still that fire in his eyes, that drive you knew he would never fully let go of. He was still your Sam, the man who couldn’t stop helping others even if it meant losing himself in the process.

Then came reports of his work with Bucky Barnes. You caught glimpses here and there: videos of Sam fighting, speeches to crowds, images of him standing strong and proud, still doing the work he believed in. Each clip, each mention of him in the newspapers you read was like reopening the wound, bittersweet in a way that only true love could be.

And then, one day, you saw him on the screen again—but this time, he was wearing the Captain America suit.

The shield sat on his back, the way it once had been with Steve.

His face was calm, resilient, and he carried himself with a confidence that you hadn’t seen in a long, long time. As he stood before a crowd, addressing the nation, his voice rang out strong and clear. He spoke of unity, of justice, of how much work still lay ahead.

There was something fiercely proud and unmoving in his stance, as if he had finally found a purpose that felt right, a cause he was willing to fight for as himself.

The people around you could hardly believe it.

But you did. You always did.

As you watched him speak to the world, you felt your heart swell with pride. He finally stepped into a role he was born for, embracing everything that came with it— the good and the bad. You felt a deep, overwhelming admiration for him— the same one you had felt all those years ago.

The man you love had found his calling. He had finally stepped into the legacy he’d once doubted. And though he was miles away, speaking to millions of people, it felt as if he was speaking to you. It felt as if he were telling you, Look, I made it. I found my place.

—

It had been over a year since you’d last seen Sam in person. But then, you heard a knock—a familiar rhythm, one you'd both come up with in those times of hiding, a signal you’d memorised to mean ‘it’s safe to open the door.’

Suddenly, all those buried memories resurfaced. You took a deep breath and walked up to the entrance, fingers trembling ever so slightly.

When you opened the door, he was there.

He stood tall, carrying an air of quiet confidence that you had missed.

“Hey,” he said softly, that deep warmth in his eyes settling on you like it always had. “I know you’re retired, but I… I need your help.” He hesitated, shifting his weight, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. “This mission… there’s something I just can't figure out. Tactical consulting, just advice, you know.”

Your heart gave a painful thud, torn between the part of you that had finally let yourself step back and the part that had always been drawn to Sam’s gravity. There was something in his eyes, in the way he looked at you—was it hope? Regret?

“Come on in,” you said, your voice surprisingly steady.

Once inside, you cleared space at your kitchen island, pulling out blueprints and maps from him and laying them between you. The small counter seemed even smaller with Sam standing across from you, leaning close as he unfurled more documents. The scent of his cedar aftershave filled your home in a way that felt so heartbreakingly familiar. You poured the both of you a glass of wine.

It didn't take long for you to settle into the rhythm. Soon, you were bouncing ideas back and forth, memories and laughs slipping through the cracks as you strategized, just like old times. You caught yourself chewing on the back of your pen—an old habit that Sam had always found adorable—as you debated where each exit and entrance might be. When it came time to relay the guard rotation, Sam scrunched his nose in that familiar way that always meant he was uncertain. You couldn’t help but smile, reminded of countless memories just like this one.

As the hours passed, you felt yourself relaxing, dropping your guard bit by bit. You found yourselves laughing over old missions, sharing stories of close calls and narrow escapes. When Sam’s hand brushed yours as he reached for a pen, there was a tension there that you couldn’t ignore, something that had always been effortless between you.

Then, as he raised his glass for another sip, his gaze landed on the roses on your counter— a fresh vase of red roses, bold and out of place in your otherwise grounded kitchen. He paused, frowning slightly.

“Red roses?” he asked, glancing back at you, a surprised smile lifting his lips. “You don’t like them. You always preferred pink ones.”

You felt a small pang of sadness, realising that after all this time, he remembered that small detail, one that even you’d almost forgotten.

“I didn’t buy them,” you replied, trying to keep your tone casual. “A date brought them over. A couple of days ago.”

The words fell into the awkward silence between you. For a second, you saw the surprise flicker across his face. “You’re… dating again?” he asked, almost in disbelief.

“Yeah, well…” You gave a light laugh, trying to brush it off, “had to fill the void you left somehow.”

It was meant to be a joke, but the words cut deeper than you’d meant it to.

He looked down, fingers trailing the edge of his glass, lost in a thought he wasn’t ready to voice.

You wanted to break the tension, you had to. “What about you?” you asked, forcing a smile. “I mean, look at you. You’ve got to be dating, Sam. Come on. You’re still the most handsome man I know.”

But he shook his head, his expression solemn. “No,” he said, his gaze fixed on the wine swirling in his glass. “I guess I just haven’t moved on.”

The words struck you like a lightning strike, filling the room with a tension neither of you could ignore. For a moment, the breaths you took felt too thick, too charged. You watched him, studying his face, seeing a quiet pain etched into his expression as he finally looked up to meet your eyes.

He broke the long silence, his voice low. “Is he… good to you?”

You let out a shaky breath. “He’s… he’s alright. We’ve only been on a couple of dates. It's not like we’re… exclusive or anything.” You paused, trying to find the words to explain. “He’s a nursery teacher. Sweet, good with kids.... But nothing serious.”

Sam nodded, a faint, bittersweet smile touching his lips. “Good with kids, huh?” his voice was filled with an ache that twisted in your chest. “Just like you always wanted.”

You felt a wave of frustration and sadness rise up. “Yeah,” you replied softly, almost to yourself, before you could stop. “But he’s not…”

The words caught in your throat, but Sam didn’t let you off easy. He leaned closer, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that took your breath away, “He’s not… what?”

“He’s not you, Sam,” you whispered, the words spilling out before you could take them back. And you didn’t want to.

Something broke in him— relief, pain, and longing all at once. Without a word, he reached across the counter, his fingers finding yours. He walked around the kitchen island, sitting on the stool next to yours. His skin was warm as he closed the distance between you. His hand moved up, cupping your face as his eyes traced over you, like he was taking in every detail, every piece of who you were now.

You were still you. But you had grown without him. You had found your peace, just like you always wanted.

He leaned in, and his lips brushed yours in a trembling kiss.

The moment he felt you return it— the moment he felt the familiar force of your kiss, he deepened it. His hands slid into your hair, pulling you close, desperate to feel you, to make up for all the lost moments he had to go through without you.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm on your skin.

The kiss had left both of you shaken to your core.

Sam’s hands were still on your face, his thumbs brushing along your cheeks, making sure you were real, and that this wasn't just one of his dreams about you. He searched your eyes, looking for something to reassure him this was more than a moment of weakness.

“We can do this,” he whispered, his voice raw, almost frantic. He believed now, he needed to make you believe, too. “Clint—Clint made it work, right? A family, a life— he did it. He’s raising kids and still comes back when we need him. We’ll talk to him. I’ll ask him, I’ll ask him anything, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

He swallowed, his breath shallow, his desperation pulling him closer to you. “If that’s not enough, if this— if me being Captain America is what’s in the way, then I’ll… I’ll give it up. Just say the word. I swear, I’ll give it all up if that’s what you need. None of this—none of it means a damn thing without you.”

The words hit you hard, more sincere than anything else you’d ever heard him say. You saw the same unwavering love in his eyes, but this time it came with a willingness to do anything, sacrifice anything, to make room for you in his life.

It terrified you because you knew he meant every single word.

You closed your eyes, finally feeling the burn of tears that you barely managed to hold back. You reached up to hold his face, your fingers brushing along his jawline.

“No, Sam,” you said, your voice shaking but unbreakable in its resolve. “You’re not giving up the shield for me. I’ve seen you out there. I’ve watched you bring people together. And I… I can’t be the reason you walk away.”

He shook his head, his eyes pleading. His breath came quicker. It was moments like this when you realised that he was human. Not a super soldier. Not enhanced.

He was human with an unnatural resilience.

“But if this is the only way to have you—”

You can’t help but interrupt him, before he dug himself a fantasy so deep that he would struggle to get out of it. You closed the small gap between you, kissing him again. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, holding you like he never wanted to let go. You could feel the tremor in his hands, the way his breath hiccuped, so close to breaking. When you pulled away, you pressed your forehead to his, calming his silent pleas.

“Listen to me,” you whispered. “You are Captain America. That’s a part of you, and I would never forgive myself if I took that. But that doesn’t mean we have to give this up,” you added, willing him to understand. “I want to try again.”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath. For the first time in a year, he was letting himself hope again. “You’re sure?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, vulnerable in a way you’d never heard before.

“Yes,” you said, your voice steady, filled with a conviction you hadn’t felt in years. “I want you back.”

The relief on his face, the gratitude, was like sunlight breaking through a storm. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and then another to your lips, softer, filled with a tenderness you had missed so damn much.

“I’m all in,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t care what it takes. We will make this work.”

As you nodded, he lifted you into his arms, spinning you around. For the first time in a year, your giggles filled your quiet kitchen. When he set you down, his gaze landed on the flowers once again.

“First on the agenda,” he said, smiling mischievously, “we’re getting rid of those damn red roses. I’ll get you pink ones tomorrow.”

You laughed through happy tears as he pulled you to the couch, the mission he had come to consult you for forgotten, even if only for tonight.

You watched him leave the blueprints behind to spend time with you, when he would’ve been obsessing over a year ago. This time, you felt a conviction that he was right— that it would work.

This time, he was willing to compromise. And so were you.

-end.

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gwenllian-in-the-abbey · 5 months ago

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what do you think of the rumors about Aemond's possible betrayal of Aegon in Ep4?

Oh do I have a lot to say about this one! So here's the thing. A possible Rook's Rest betrayal situation has been a long running theory among F&B readers even before the show. In the book, Vhagar slams into Sunfyre and Meleys from above while the two are locked together fighting, and they all crash to the ground. It's unclear whether Aemond slammed them both because Vhagar was too big to maneuver in a precise way, or if he was intentionally trying to harm his brother. It's ambiguous, but when Aegon is badly injured, Aemond becomes prince regent and declares the crown looks better on him than it ever did on his brother. In Aemond's favor, he did not declare himself king, but it's also the case that in the book, Aegon had a second son, so Aemond wasn't his heir either. Declaring himself king would have been a direct usurpation of Maelor even if Aegon himself died. We also know that at the end of the Dance Aegon wanted statues made of both his brothers, Aemond and Daeron, so Aegon himself likely did not believe Aemond was responsible for his injuries. But it is ambiguous, and book!Aemond does turn out to be not very smart and not much of a team player, so in and of itself, I don't actually mind the betrayal theory so much. But I would prefer it remain a theory, that is, keep it ambiguous, but even if it is an outright betrayal, it's the execution and motivation which concern me.

In the show, Aemond has a very clear second son syndrome. Whether it's true or not, he certainly thinks he's smarter, better, more dutiful, and of course on top of all that, he has the largest dragon. Show!Aegon, on the other hand, is insecure and struggling with depression, alcoholism, and a big case of imposter syndrome. He's impulsive and reactive, wasn't properly prepared to be king, didn't particularly want to be king, but now that he is king, he's desperate not to fail. In the events leading up to the war, Aemond kills Luke in a moment that seems more rash than calculated, and this ultimately leads to Aegon's small son being decapitated by Blood and Cheese in revenge, throwing him deep into grief and rage. On top of that, Aegon is feeling undermined by his council, including Aemond, and Larys is planting the seeds of mistrust between Aegon and his brother. It's absolutely reasonable for there to be some resentment between the two and some unresolved issues that might manifest on the battlefield. Would these issues lead to an actual attempted murder? Eh, I tend to think that, in the spirit of leaving it ambiguous, Aemond might have the passing thought that he could totally "accidentally" allow Aegon to come to harm. He might even hesitate just long enough that Meleys is able to seriously wound Aegon or Sunfyre before he joins in, causing him to feel a great deal of guilt. This is my preferred scenario.

The problem I have is with how the show is framing it so far. I've never been a fan of the way the bullying storyline seemed to humanize Aemond at Aegon's expense, but it now appears as if it's being used as a motivation or justification for Aemond betraying Aegon at Rook's Rest, as well as his general shift to a darker character, which I find cliched and disappointing. At this point Aemond is a grown man by all Westerosi standards, and despite their issues, we've seem Aegon display loyalty towards Aemond more than we've seen him "bully" him. They're siblings, they're going to fight and bicker and tease, but we've seen nothing from Aegon so far that would justify murder. Maybe if your brother is going through the worst thing a person can possibly experience, losing his son in a murder that, while not your fault, happened as a retribution for your actions, perhaps you could grant him some grace, even if he makes some obnoxious comments in a brothel. I've seen so many takes which basically amount to "Aegon had it coming" as if we haven't seen Aegon absolutely distraught over the death of his child, receiving no emotional support from his family, least of all Aemond himself, and spiraling back into alcoholism and reckless behavior. Now is really not the time to get pissy about teasing. It's not about you, Aemond. A child is dead.

And in fact, we've seen Aegon be supportive of Aemond on screen in ways that we generally haven't seen Aemond support Aegon. Aegon speaks up on Aemond's behalf, inviting him into the council when Alicent wants to shut him out, and we've seen him support Aemond's battle plans, even though we know Cole and Aemond have been planning behind Aegon's back. In S1 we've seen Aegon have Aemond's back at dinner with Rhaenyra's family, and going even further back, we've seen Aegon allow Aemond to throw him under the bus about the bastard comments, taking the fall even though he was not the culprit. There is certainly jealousy and rivalry there from both sides, but as much as Aegon is an ass, it is clear he loves his brother.

Also, I think some fans, perhaps because the well was poisoned against Aegon in S1 in ways that his character has struggled to recover from, tend to read everything Aegon does uncharitably and ignore some of Aemond's more questionable behavior, granting him grace that they do not grant others. I rarely see critical analysis about Aemond the way I do about Aegon, so I'm going to be frank here for a moment. Aemond is only the "good" brother to Aegon's "bad" brother because we haven't seen him at his worst yet, but the potential is there for him to be so much worse than Aegon could ever be. Show!Aemond is thin skinned, self-centered, and a bit of a "can dish it out but can't take it" type. Aemond's assholery is more subtle (for example, Aemond's patronizing little "that's a brave thought" to Aegon in council), whereas Aegon's is loud and obnoxious, but Aemond knows how to make his insults pointed and hurtful ("Strong boys" toast, you will die screaming in flames like your father). And look no further than his reaction to Blood and Cheese to see his egotism in action. In this moment when he's supposed to be showing some level of vulnerability with the madame, he's talking about how honored he is that sempai Daemon noticed him. Mind you, this notice is what resulted in the death of his four year old nephew. His "remorse" over killing Lucerys amounts to "I do regret that business with Luke," while immediately following up with his justification, citing how they used to tease him for not having a dragon. Sincere remorse involves examining your own actions without immediately justifying them or centering yourself, and in that moment I felt no remorse from Aemond, or even sympathy for what his killing of Luke might have unleashed upon the family. Aemond hasn't even mentioned Helaena once post-B&C, and you'd think that even if he doesn't feel sorry for Aegon, surely he'd show some sympathy for his innocent sister? And yet, nothing.

So while I can't say it would be necessarily out of character for the Aemond they've been giving us in S2, I don't really like this take on Aemond at all, and I just don't find this supposed grudge against Aegon a particularly compelling justification for attempted murder. While the bullying storyline humanized Aemond in S1 as a child, keeping it going now, as a motive for harming his brother and his brother's dragon, which, lets be clear, would absolutely fuck over his entire faction, is ridiculous and unnecessary, and really kind of saps any goodwill I might have had for Aemond. I don't have any sympathy for someone who was rather mildly teased and decides his brother deserves to die for it, and it makes me feel incredibly sad for Aegon who is just getting dumped on by his entire family to the point where it's honestly kind of hard to watch. There is plenty of drama inherent in the situation already as-is. If this happened because of tensions over Storm's End and Blood and Cheese, it would still be stupid for Aemond to do, but Aemond has never been as smart as he thinks, and it would frame the betrayal in the context of the ways Aegon and Aemond have hurt each other. However, if it is framed as Aegon's comeuppance for being an asshole, Aemond's Joker moment where he goes fully dark in some sort of bullying revenge plot that he decides to enact in the middle of a war? Honestly, forget building gigantic gold covered statues, I'd be burning effigies.

#if you're senstitive about aemond maybe skip this one because i was not kind #aegon ii targaryen #rook's rest #hotd season 2 leaks #hotd critical #team green

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bagdaddyb · 1 year ago

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Hi!! Oh my gosh seeing you posting again was such a huge joy and surprise for me I’m so glad to read your new work!!!

I was wondering if you could write a wanda maximoff x fem!reader ABO fic where either Wanda or reader are new to the team with a whole bunch of pining where they eventually figure out that they are each others mate? You can make either Wanda or reader alpha/omega!

It’s super okay if you aren’t feeling this request, either way I’m so excited to read more of the amazing work you share with us!!!

Hiiiii! So I got super carried away with this and I originally intended for this to be mean emo Wanda but sweet soft Wanda took over, I hope you enjoy! 💗

Pairing: alphag!p Wanda x omega fem! spyReader

Warning: Sickeningly Sweet, 18+ MINOR DNI NSFW NSFW

AN: Wanda 🥰

You'd only been on the team for a year when the mess with Ultron happened. It all happened so fast, you could barely process everything happening around you before something new would arise. Sitting across from Natasha sipping coffee as you spied on the twin alphas you felt the most relaxed you had in weeks. Natasha kept glancing their way while your focus stayed on her, two people staring was more suspicious than one. You and the red head proved to be a good team over the past year. Two omega spies flying under everyones radar. The world still assumed the Black Widow a one woman show and no one would ever believe her to be an omega. The breeze felt nice on your back, bringing a hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear before looking down at your coffee.

"This has been a real shit show eh?"

Your voice held a familiar accent one you'd grown used to using under your many aliases. Natasha's eyes returned to you as she sipped her own drink.

"Not anymore than usual."

You hummed in response eyes wondering to the innocent civilians around you. Sipping your own cup you wonder if life would be better among them. Oblivious to the realities of the world to caught up in your own day to day menial task. The weight of this job seemed to weigh a bit heavier on your shoulders everyday, the question of wether the people you save amounts to the people you don't plaguing.

"S toboy vse v poryadke?" (Are you alright?)

The red head ask and you nod eyes returning to hers.

"Tired, it seems everytime we try to relax something detrimental in the world happens. I wonder what it would do without us."

A small chuckle escapes Natasha despite the truth in your words, her eyes shooting to the pair on her right once more. Though not a 'graduate' of the red room you hold your own tramatic story. Experimented on in the basement of Oscorp for years you'd been turned into a lab rat by the corpo bastards that owned the building. You'd escaped only three years ago, changed. Transformed into a human machiene, non-aging, ridiculously strong with a sirens song. You did the only thing you could and played the cards you were delt. Seducing mediocre alphas out of millions before any one even got a whiff of your existence but you could truly only thank Natasha for that. It wasn't until Natasha was taken down but the Black Widow kept striking that shield realized there was more than met the eye. It was Tony himself that went undercover to catch you and honestly had he not been an Avenger with intel he would of ended up caught himself. Another rich egotistical alpha who thought himself on top of the world. You didn't go down easy and spent a week in a cell before even uttering a word. In retrospect it all seems silly now you often think about how much time you wasted fighting the people who wanted nothing more than to help you. Eyes lifting to Natasha's face you can't help but feel greatful for the opportunity she's given you to help others like you.

"They're on the move."

You hum in acknowledgment before finishing off your drink mind finally wondering to the matter at hand. Your mission was recruitment nothing more. Ultron having been made unreasonably strong by the twins he somehow came to be in alliance with. You'd gained enough information merely listening in on their conversation, so you and Natasha retreated returning to the group in order to solidify your advances. Standing in time with Natasha you link your arm in hers smiling before chatting away about absolutely nothing in russian. Missing the way a certain alpha glanced your way when your scent drifted down wind. It only took twenty four hours for everything to go to shit almost a record breaker in your books. Ultron whineded up to be nothing after the male alpha was nere fatally injured the red headed woman taking care of him like clockwork. Luckily your team stood nearby able to quickly extract the alpha towards safety and medical attention. You worked efficiently getting him secured before moving to help the rest of your team fight off Ultron's bots and it isn't until the end when you stand with the support of Thor that you realize the red headed alpha had come with you. Returning to the compound there is tension on the quinjet. The group unsure what to do with the twin alphas who quite literally just tried to murder them and it causes you to roll your eyes.

"You could at least not talk about them as if they aren't right there."

You scold before moving towards the pair. The red head having been unmoving crouched over her unconscious brother.

"Privet." (Hello.)

You say making yourself known as you approach the alpha causing her to glance up at you.

"On dolzhen polnost'yu vyzdorovet'." (He should make a full recovery.)

You speak in a whisper trying to be soft.

"YA uveren, chto on ne khotel by, chtoby vy bespokoilis'." (I'm sure he wouldn't want you to worry.)

The woman merely returns her eyes to the unconscious man below her.

"Will you lock us up? Treat us once again like dogs?"

Your eyebrows raise and your posture straightens.

"No of course not, everyone deserves a second chance. You believed you were fighting for the right thing, there are many on this team who have been in a similar circumstance. Do not believe simply because we are labeled supergeroi that none of us have a dark past." (Superheroes)

With that you take your leave allowing the woman to be with her loved one. Upon returning to the compound you go into seclusion, you needed a break both mentally and physically. Just a few days where the world wasn't ending and it was entirely up to you to save it. Six days later you emerge slightly re-energized and fresh ready for the next catastrophe. The first place you visit is the gym already hearing Natasha's scolding on breaking your routine as you pass the common room you see the two twins on the couch alone. In this light you see them both clearly, while they hold the title twin they couldn't look more different. You study them both your eyes lingering on the red head. She was an attractive alpha, very attractive. You hear the tv playing but don't recognize the program they have on. Detouring into the room you catch their attention waving as you approach.

"Hello, I am rather embarrassed to say we never formally met. I am (Y/N) nice to meet you both."

You bow your head in greeting sending them a bright smile and both of them seem to freeze obviously caught off guard by your friendly approach. The male recovers first standing up before bowing his head back and sticking out his hand.

"Pietro, and that is my sestra Wanda."

You recognize his accent reaching to grip his hand in yours.

"A pleasure, I hope you two are adjusting well."

It isn't until then his sister jumps up a slight flush on her cheeks.

"It has been familiar, we are rather alienated but that is how it has always been."

You hum in response fighting back the disappointment in your expression.

"Don't fret, we are a group of antisocial extroverts forced to be in a group setting. Well expect for Tony but it just takes us all time to engage and meet new people, they will come around before long."

You finish with a smile.

"Have you two at least been taken care of? Food, water, lodging?"

They nod simultaneously and its enough for you.

"Good well I'm off to the gym, don't be strangers."

With that you leave not taking note of the full face flush on the woman's face.

"Kto-nibud' nashel svoyu sestru-omegu?" (Has someone found their omega sister?)

Pietro says in a teasing tone and Wanda punches him in the shoulder muttering at him to shut up. The moment you cross the threshold of the gym you flinch.

"Nu posmotrite, kto eto." (Well look who it is.)

"Can we skip past the part where you scold me so I can just apologize?"

You ask turning to meet Natasha's sharp gaze.

"Will your muscles magically regain their mass?"

"No."

You sigh accepting your defeat beginning to stretch as Natasha begins her speech on commitment. It is another four days before everyone finally comes around to the twins slotting them in as if theyed been there since the beginning just as they had you. Walking towards the gym you release a content sigh, a full ten days since the world seemed as though it'd collapse. What bliss. Quickly looking up your eyes fantically search for some wood unwilling to risk jinxing yourself.

"Dobroye utro." (Good morning.")

You hear from behind turning to be greeted by Wanda.

"Good morning indeed. Off for your morning cuppa are you?"

You ask and Wanda merely nods in response fighting back a yawn.

"Not a morning person?"

You ask with a smile walking beside Wanda.

"Not at all."

She says somewhat grumpily.

"Then what are you doing up at six a.m?"

You ask with a laugh and Wanda has to fight back a blush. She couldn't admit that she woke up at this time merely to see you every morning but what could she say.

"I like to cook but I'm not very good at it.... so I practice early before the others wake up."

The words spill out of her mouth quickly unable to think of anything better and you beam your white smile at her.

"Well how about tomorrow you sleep in till eight then I can help you learn, I am an amazing cook. I even know how to make some traditional dishes."

Wanda can't help the flush that comes to her face this time and it makes you feel a tingle inside.

"Okay."

The red head responds and you nod giving her arm a little reassuring squeeze as you come upon the kitchen.

"Good luck dorogoy." (Dear)

You say before continuing onto the gym and Wanda is sure her face matches her hair. Sure enough the next morning Wanda doesn't head towards the kitchen instead she spends the morning pacing her room anxiety ridden. You'd said for her to sleep in but how could she when you agreed to spend alone time with her. She couldn't tell Pietro and deal with his repeated teasing so she kept the information in slowly but surely having a meltdown. As she paced she played with her hair, bit her finger, twiddled her thumbs. God she couldn't do this. She'd literally been an experiment for Hydra and never felt this nervous in her life. The time passed quickly. To quickly. Right as she truly began to spiral there was a knock at her door, eyes shooting to the clock she realizes its already eight o'clock. Brushing off her clothes quickly before taking a few deep breaths and recuperating she opens her door. The moment her eyes land on you it all seems for naught, your hair is tied back. You wear tights and a tshirt covered by an apron. Your eyes spakle matched by your bright smile and Wanda feels herself melt a bit.

"I figured you'd meet me in the kukhnya." (Kitchen)

You say with a giggle and Wanda becomes a tomato realizing its not only eight but eight eleven.

"I'm sorry I slept in and lost all track of time."

You hum with a smile clearly not mad at all before turning to be on your way.

"All is fine I just didn't want to start without you."

Wanda follows behind you closing her door quickly. Her eyes wonder your body not being able to help staring at your ass.

"Ty slushayesh'?" (Are you listening?)

Wanda's eyes shoot up attention back on your voice.

"I asked what your favorite dish is."

"Oh um I love traditional pirozhki, my mother used to make them just slightly burnt at the edges. The taste reminds me of home."

You turn and smile softly her way.

"Perfect then that's what we will make, cooking can seem overwhelming but it isn't as scary as many think. I always recommend learning to cook for yourself first because it is much easier than cooking for others."

In the kitchen you gather the suppiles, you cooked often so the ingredients for this dish were easily found.

"I'll have you make the dough, it is all simply measurements so I'll do no more than verbal instructions."

You say as you prepare the area for Wanda.

"Here put this on, gotta protect your clothes and tie your hair back no one wants hair in their food."

Handing the apron to Wanda while standing by waiting. You bite your lip as you watch her. Running her fingers through silky red locks before pulling it up exposing her neck to you. She wore grey sweatpants and a baggy t. The sweatpants doing little to hide the member between her legs and you press your thighs together pleasurably. Wanda on the other hand was trying to think about how to see this lie through. She was an amazing cook, taking the responsibility of her brother from a young age. How was she going to play clueless. She should of at least said a dish she truly wasn't aware of how to make but when you asked her favortie food she couldn't help but answer honestly. You talked Wanda through the steps praising her for being a natural when the dough came out well. Leaving it to make the filling.

"What did your mom fill hers with? I do a simple meat and rice mixture since it goes along with my bulk."

Wanda nods along as she listens debating a moment before responding.

"Lets make them like yours, I've never had them any other way and I'd be eager to try."

You smile brightly at the alpha before nodding in response. Again you talk her through it always believing hands on with clear instruction was the best way to learn any skill. It gave the student mutiple ways to intake the information and made it harder to forget. Once the process is complete you help Wanda cut and stuff the dough, this part of the process being the longest and most tedious. You leave her to fry them as she likes since she'd mentioned her mom let them cook a bit longer and instead move to clean around her. Never a fan of a messy workspace. You hum as you clean, mindlessly really. It seems a tune that always floats around you. One Wanda is sure she's heard you hum before. By the time Wanda is done cooking you've cleaned the kitchen and are able to sit down and enjoy the meal with her. Of course the moment doesn't last and before either of you can even take a bite the smell of food draws in hungry Avengers.

"Mne vsegda nravitsya, kogda ty gotovish'." (I always love when you cook.)

Natasha says entering first, the smell of traditional food equivalent to a cat with its automatic feeder. Steve, Bruce, Tony, and Sam all slowly trickle in after stomachs growling audibly making you laugh.

"I suppose if I didn't cook every once in a while no one would eat around here hmmm?"

The group shares a laugh as they line up one by one to make plates.

"But in all honesty this meal is thanks to Wanda not me, I merely talked her through the steps."

Wanda can't hide the pink that dust her cheeks and all is going well until a certain twin walks in.

"Pirozhki! You always cook the best food sestra."

The blonde kisses his sisters head as he passes by and you can't help the eyebrow that raises in response.

"Always hmmm?"

You hum and Wanda is saved by the entrance of Thor who could of eaten the entire helping had he got here first.

"Mighty (Y/N) your meals are always most invigorating."

You smile at the God and try not laugh when you see his downcast face once he realizes he is the last one to show. Wiping your face after you finish you excuse yourself it was already nearing noon and you still hadn't even looked at the moutain of paperwork on your desk. Wanda watches you go. Over the next three weeks you and Wanda grow closer she begins training with you and Natasha in the mornings and you read with her sometimes in the afternoons, you don't question her about Pietro's comment after your cooking fiasco and Wanda never says anything about it because that woukd mean admitting to you that she was desperate to spend time with you.

"Soo?"

Natasha ask as the two of you jog around the gardens. It was early afternoon in fall, the cool winds combating your rising body heat making the jog enjoyable.

"Nothing."

"Yebat' will she ever make a move?" (Fuck)

You merely shrug.

"I don't know, I'll start showing signs of heat by the end of the week if that doesn't trigger her there's no hope."

Natasha laughs at that.

"Tak khochetsya al'fu, da?" (So eager for an alpha eh?)

"Not just any alpha, Wanda."

The week passes slowly and as the weekend gets closer your pheromones get stronger. The team knew your heat was approaching as they kept a calander for the Alphas so they could know when to distance, well everyone except Wanda apparently. Its Thursday night by the time she's had enough of your distance and decides to ask why you aren't at the table for dinner with the rest of the team.

"Where's (Y/N), I swear I haven't seen her all week."

Natasha sends a small smirk Wanda's way before Steve speaks up.

"Her heat is approaching so she is keeping extra distance for everyones saftey, she should come back around a week or so from today."

Pink hue coats Wanda's cheeks as the thought of you in heat takes over her mind and the pink only gets darker as her hard on begins to form in her pants. Her mind plummets into thoughts about your slick, and body. Thoughts about filling you with her seed and you being full with her pups causes her to be embarrassed by how hard she's become. If not for the table her bulge would be hard to miss. Wanda remains in a fog for the rest of dinner try as she might she couldn't get her mind off mating you and as everyone stands to part ways she remains seated making the excuse that she'd clean up the kitchen. Wanda strained painfully against her pants she could almost smell you now.

Rubbing your sides you walk towards the kitchen dinner should be over by now and you're starving. You need to get as many calories in as you can before you succumb to your heat tomorrow. The pain was slowly starting to set in and you'd be lying if you said you were looking foreward to the next seven days. You let out a groan as you turn the corner a sudden sharp pain stabbing your side. As you enter the threshold of the kitchen goosebumps rise on your skin the familiar smell of Wanda infultrating your nose before your eyes lock with the alphas. You're almost sure you see Wanda begin to tremble but you quickly begin to back away.

"I'm sorry I thought everyone would be gone by now."

You go to retreat from the kitchen and Wanda stands so quickly her chair falls behind her. In a second she's in your face grabbing you softly by the jaw making you look at her.

"Omega."

She whispers as she sniffs at you rubbing her nose against your cheek before falling to your scent gland.

"Mate."

She whispers again and you chirp. Your omega finally satisfied being acknowledged by your alpha. For a few minutes nothing happens, the two of you stand there relishing eachothers presence. You chirp at her as she lightly growls at you and you feel satisfied, whole even. Then you are painfully reminded of your situation causing you to sharply intake air and groan. Wanda growls louder at the noise of your distress and you whimper.

"It hurts."

Wanda's grip on your jaw becomes tighter, pushing you into the wall before pressing her own body against yours.

"Tell me where it hurts, I'll take care you shchenok." (Puppy)

You groan again, your heat suddenly over taking your senses as a result of having your mate so close. Your hands raise to grip Wanda's arms tightly, nails digging into her skin through the fabric of her shirt.

"Need you, please. Alpha. Mate."

Your words come out as little whimpers. Your panting, you don't know why but suddenly you can't get enough air for full breaths. So caught up in Wanda you don't even process you're about to be mated in the tower kitchen but honestly you don't care either. Wanda however does she feels territorial, primal even. She needs you to herself, needs privacy with you. She'd attack anyone who might see your bare body if she mated you here. Her room was on the other side of the compound, the alpha side far from the omegas and living area but your room was just down the hall. Wanda releases your jaw hands moving down your body till she reaches the back of your thigh. You bite your lip enjoying the electricity you felt from her touch. As she picks you up you wrap your legs around her torso tightly. Her hands against your thighs causing your sex to tingle. You wrap one hand around her neck before running the other through soft red hair. You return to chirping at her, the feeling of finding your mate an overwhelmingly happy one. You rub your cheek against hers softly and the alpha lightly growls in acknowledgment. You are consumed by Wanda's presence unable to focus on anything but her. When she lays you lightly on your bed you aren't even sure where you are, you just know you're there with her. Wanda bends over you, tucking her nose into your scent gland once more and growling loudly. She needs you, needs you marked, claimed. Needs everyone to know you belong to her.

"Mate."

The word is once again a whisper but you hear it all the same. The time to romantically strip you would have to be later gripping opposite sides of the loose shirt you wore the alpha literally tears the cloth off of you exposing your bra cladded torso to her. Your breathing speeds up the intimacy of the moment undeniable as you feel Wanda begin to run her lips down your body. It was like electric shock, the currents Wanda's touch sent through your body. She magiced your bra away completely exposing your upper half and growling as her soft lips wrapped around your nipple. You moan loudly in response, it felt good too good. You could get lost in this sensation alone.

"Mine."

Wanda growls against your skin before moving along to your other nipple. Your hands grip at Wanda through her clothes before you whimper.

"Need to feel you alpha."

Wanda growls in response, her eyes glowing red as she magics away her own clothing her skin now pressing against yours. She moves back up your body mouth hovering close before she lays claim to your own. The kiss is magical, the locking of your lips causing what you could only descibe as bliss throughout your whole body. You felt like you were glowing arms and legs wrapping around the alpha tightly you were sure this must be heaven. Wanda began to grind against you through the fabric of your pants, your underwear gliding against your excessive amount of slick. You blush, embarrassed by how wet you truly are from so little foreplay but the feeling doesnt last long when Wanda growls above you. Wanda pulls your pants off your waist guiding them down your thighs just enough to expose your slick and shudders when the smell of you tingles her nostrils. She's overcome with the need to knot you, breed you as she makes her mark on your neck. But she also feels the feral need to take you, to have your slick dripping down her chin as she causes you to come apart on her tongue. Starting with the latter she pulls your pants off quickly. Breaking away from your lips to slowly kiss down your body. You take a long gasp of air eyes dialating as you watch Wanda work her way down. Your hips begin to twitch unable to stay still at the excitement of what was about to come. Wanda's hands move to firmly grip your waist holding you in place as she kisses your stomach moving lower and lower your stomach muscles flex, a wave of arousal flowing through you. When she reaches her destination her hands move to your thighs lifting them up to hold you wide open for her. You're leaking, literally and Wanda can't wait to have a taste. She dives in slurping up the excess before moving to your center. Sucking on your clit then tongue fucking you like a woman starved. Your slick quenches a thirst Wanda didn't even know she had tongue lapping at your clit before quickly moving towards your hole eager to drink up the slick as a result. It doesn't take long and under normal circumstances you're sure you would of been embarrassed but none of that matters when your muscles spasm. Back arching in the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced, your thighs shake, eyes shut, mouth open in a silent scream. Wanda doesn't stop eagerly drinking up your orgasm before wanting, no needing you to do that again. You whimper in overstimulation but don't stop your alpha, just as turned on by her need for you. You squirm against the red heads mouth a little towards her a little away, this time you last longer if only for your slight sensitivity causing time before the feeling was pleasurable again yet you cum all the same. Wanda moans loudly as you release into her mouth again. She could do this all day she's sure of it. But now as her precum begins to soak her boxers she knows its time. Lifting onto her knees between your legs red eyes glow as her pants disappear and through your haze you see her in all her glory. You reach down gripping her in your hand moaning at the size while she moans at the sensation. You pump her, an overwhelming feeling to suck her down your through the way she'd done you comes over you but Wanda quickly grabs your hand removing you from her.

"You're going to make me bust shchenok." (Puppy)

Wanda hesitates a second if only to allow her own incoming orgasm to subside, she needed to bury herself in you and it wouldn't look good for her if it ended just as quickly as it started. In the meantime she leans down over you meeting your lips in a hungry kiss the taste of you on her lips causing another wave of your own slick to pool between your legs. You push at her lower back willing her to enter you but she resist. Kissing you eagerly before breaking to kiss to move towards your scent gland, you pant quickly. Wanda's kiss having stolen all the air from your lungs.

"Mine."

Wanda whispers against you, hips beginning to grind against your slick in order to lubricate herself. You shudder in response.

"Yours alpha, take me. I want to be yours."

Wanda reaches down gripping herself in order to slowly slide into you. She's thick stretching you out in ways only she can, the burn sends waves through you and by the time she's completely sheathed you're a whimpering mess.

"Yebat' you're so tight." (Fuck)

She pulls out only to slam back into you, her pace is brutal, hips slamming against yours hitting a sweet spot you didn't even know you had repeatedly. Your moans are as loud as the sound of your wet slick sucking Wanda back in. You claw at her wanting her impossibly closer as she fucked you into next week.

"Holy fuck I'm cumming. Alpha. Alpha."

Your eyes roll back as you arch. The orgasm makes you see white and Wanda doesnt stop. You squirting fueling her ego.

"That's right shchenok. You love the way your alpha fucks you, love how deep I am in you. Look shchenok can you see me."

Wanda brings your gaze down the visible bulge in your stomach when the alpha bottoms out causing your stomach to tighten.

"I'm right here."

Wanda says as she pushes down on the bulge and you spasm again another light orgasm washing through you.

"Fuck I'm gonna fill you up, get you pregnant with my pup."

Wanda pumps into you harder, her knot slamming against your entrance as she nears her own release.

"Alpha. Alpha."

You whimper to fucked out to form any other words.

"You're gonna look so pretty swollen with my seed all mine."

You moan again as Wanda bends towards your scent gland the feel of her canines against your neck enough to almost send you over the edge. She sinks her teeth into you right as you hear a pop. Her knot having settled inside you easily combined with the blackout orgasm of your mating bite. When you come to Wanda is still knotted deep inside you. Nuzzling at your cheeks with a low growl. You chirp back to weak to do much else and Wanda hums.

"My mate, my omega."

10 months later.

You were exhausted, to say the least. A new born was a lot of work and a lot of lost sleep. Wanda wasn't here, literally dragged away for a debrief she was required to attend. If you were honest you didn't mind, she'd been slightly smothering you since you gave birth and while you loved her for it just because you gave birth didn't mean you were no longer a functioning adult. You'd been picking petty arguments since your third trimester which you always felt bad for. It was the hormones combined with being put on bedrest so you didn't get to do your job combined with sexual frustration since the doctor said it was no longer safe for intercourse. You sighed as you stepped out of the shower, now with the added insecurities about the changes in your body since pregnancy and child birth you weren't sure you even wanted Wanda to touch you. Ignoring the mirror you dry yourself before wrapping a towel around you. Exiting the bathroom right as your little baby boy woke up with soft cries. You coo at him lifting him out of his crib you lose your towel throwing it over the side in order to hold your baby against your bare chest. You were barely one month postpartum but glad to be past the part where you were in a sense literally wearing a human diaper. Your son instantly calms at the sound of your heart beat as you bounce him lightly moving to sit in your bed you lean against the headboard letting out slightly pained noises as you try and relax your overworked back. You cover your lower half with the blanket already feeling the chill of the room as you begin to hum at your son. You don't hear the door open to focused to the little boy in your arms, getting comfortable as you move him to breast feed. You hiss as he begins to work at your sore nipple but eventually relax becoming accustomed to the pain. You rub his little head of hair softly smiling at him a fullness in your heart only created by the birth of your child as Wanda makes her pressence known.

"You're so beautiful dorogaya." (Dearheart)

You bite back your own insecurities at her comment humming in response. Looking up you meet Wanda's piercing eyes before meeting her lips in a kiss.

"I mean it dorogaya or have you forgotten I can hear your thoughts."

You can't help but frown not used to not being able to keep secrets.

"But...."

"Ah ah ah no buts, you're even more beautiful now than the day we met. Pregnancy and childbirth has given you a glow nothing else can."

You sigh a familiar warmth filling your chest in response to Wanda's love.

"YA tebya lyublyu." (I love you)

You whisper your free hand coming to rub against Wanda's cheek.

"I ya lyublyu tebya. Forever and always." (And I love you)

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlett witch #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #alpha wanda #omega reader #bagdaddyb #request

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frozenjokes · 6 months ago

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Unbeknownst To Grian, Doc Hasn’t Had A Real Conversation With A Person In 15 Years, And It’s About To Be Grian’s Problem

Grian did not like to be predictable. He didn’t like to follow expectations, he didn’t like to give people what they wanted. This could manifest in small, annoying ways; if something he was curious about got popular, he was more likely to lose interest, think negatively of it for no reason. Grian valued uniqueness in his craft. If he was going to fuck with someone, he would do so in the most creative possible way, and just so much as seeing a similar idea online to one of his own was enough to void all his motivation.

If Grian was going to make his mark, he would not do so giving the people what they wanted. He’d change the game. He’d sprint as fast as his legs would take him against the grain.

They wanted him and Scar.

The clips from yesterday had gone completely viral, Scar’s suggestion to velcro himself to Grian’s back so they could fight together to retrieve his legs from the villainous Goat spawning waves of excited chatter, cheering, and trending hashtags to varying degrees of ridiculousness. Now, even if Grian had wanted to team up with Scar like this in the first place, the amount of insistent attention would be enough to change his mind in a snap of an instant. Please. He was not some showpony that lived to serve the community. If he was going to put on a show, it would be on his own terms, superheroes be damned.

So that’s how Grian found himself at The Goat’s doorstep, a massive, impending thing. Most supervillains took utmost care in hiding their identities and home addresses; they had to, otherwise the police force would have no reason to pretend they couldn’t arrest them. The Goat, however, was an exception. This place could hardly be called a house; it was more like a fortress that loomed over the entire city, spires like lightning rods collecting energy from storms in a light show that you could see for miles. While The Goat had been arrested several hundred times by now (he’d been around for as long as Grian could remember, very possibly before he was born), he never quite stayed in jail, always finding a way to escape in one way or another. At this point, it was common knowledge that The Goat was only ever taken into custody because he wanted to be; successfully imprisoned for only however long he allowed. While quite famous, The Goat also happened to be a bit of a hermit, only surfacing from his lair once or twice a month, so really, it was pretty unlucky for Scar to come across him the one day he had chosen to lay pathetically on the concrete, legs ripe for the stealing.

Regardless, this mysterious reclusiveness made the villain quite popular among many, his nonchalance combined with the insanity of some of his works of engineering drawing a great deal of attention. That, and people were just outright thirsting over him. Unabashedly horny. Grian had never seen The Goat in person before, but he’d seen enough pictures to understand- not that he agreed or anything, just that it made sense. The Goat was a big guy, like, big; Grian didn’t know the logistics of his exact species, but he was a sort of centaur-like creature, built like a clydesdale but even taller, half of his chest, left arm, and face entirely cybernetic, armaments that were constructed by the man himself.

It was at this point that Grian realized he was stalling. In fairness, he wasn’t exactly sure what to do with himself. The knocker was purposefully high above the typical human height, something he could reach regardless with a flap of his wings, but it was relatively obvious The Goat did not like visitors. Grian wondered how many civilians had turned up at this very doorstep, only to be ignored for hours until they left. Would The Goat even care about CuteGuy? Maybe he had seen all the hubbub online and would keep him locked out on purpose. Grian hadn’t really considered that before coming. Honestly, with all the cameras around, it was very likely The Goat already knew he was here.

Well. No time like the present!

Grian beat his wings in a small jump, but the door swung open before he could reach the knocker, causing him to fall and stumble a little pathetically at cloven feet. He looked up. Holy shit.

“Speak of your intention,” The Goat spoke gruffly, tucking his hands away in the pockets of his long lab coat. Grian had to crane his neck just to see his face, a dark, cold expression looking natural on The Goat’s imposing figure. His eyes were pupil-less, narrowed and difficult to read, but Grian didn’t detect any hostility. Maybe he was delusional, but it almost looked like The Goat was more curious than anything, interest evident in the way his mechanical eye moved in quick saccades, taking all of him in. Grian took a deep breath, puffing out his chest.

“Just wanted to hang out, that’s all. This is a pretty secluded place, you know, thought I might be able to get away from all the mess,” Grian forcibly relaxed his shoulders, waving his hand in a vague gesture.

“Hang out?” The Goat said the words like they tasted bitter, but then again, he said most things as if they left an unpleasant taste in his mouth, “You sure you’re not looking for anything?”

“If you’re referring to HotGuy’s legs, then no, I’m not looking for them. I don’t care about him or his legs, actually! I’m more concerned with my reputation, that being, how good it’s been lately. I think this city needs a reminder that I don’t work for anyone.”

The Goat chuckled, the sound far more soft and pleasant than Grian would have thought he could produce. “Is that so?” he mused, and Grian hoped that was interest behind his tone, “You don’t serve our government? Contractually? Won’t they be displeased to see another of their pets mingling with the enemy?”

Grian scoffed, “I don’t serve anyone. As far as I’m concerned, they’re being scammed out of a paycheck. And no, honestly, I don’t think they care what I do so long as it drums up media attention and puts more coin in their pockets. So long as it’s advertiser friendly.”

“I hear you are famously not, friend.”

“Well that’s not my problem.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“The court of public opinion indicates otherwise. People are crazy about me, nearly as much as HotGuy. It would be stupid to let me go, not before they milk my novelty for everything it’s worth. By then I’ll be rich enough to retire or something, I don’t know. That’s a problem for future Grian.”

“Grian?” Grian’s heart dropped as The Goat smirked, lips raising just enough to reveal pointed teeth. But just as Grian started to stutter to a defense, the villain laughed, drowning him out, “Do not fret, I could not care about any person’s identity, superhero or no. Nor do I particularly care to shield mine. Please Grian, call me Doc. Follow me.” Doc turned without another word, leaving Grian to gape as his massive hooves kicked up clouds of dust. Doc did not look to see if he was following nor slow his pace, so Grian had to run to catch up. Nine foot tall monsters walked very fast it turns out! And if Doc noticed Grian struggling to keep up, he certainly didn’t show it.

It occurred a little late to Grian that he should probably be keeping track of where he was going and how he’d escape if necessary, but Doc’s fortress had so many twists and turns, by the time he had the sense to think of this, he was already hopelessly lost. Well. Hopefully Doc wasn’t planning on dissecting him and displaying his wings on a pedestal or something. (Many of The Goat’s fans seemed to insist this was a big thing for Doc, though, Grian could not find any actual evidence of any dissections occurring. On second thought, those people were probably just horny.) Oh well.

Eventually, the two of them reached an elevator with, quite frankly, an alarming amount of floors- “What do you need this much space for?'' The thought was spoken aloud before Grian could stop himself, far more judgemental than would be advised for the company he was keeping today, but luckily, Doc didn’t seem to care.

“The lower floors are where The Hivemind works. Building, innovating, grindingoptimizingautomatingthriving, you know. A lot of the space is storage from past projects, and upkeep generally takes a lot of my time. My machinery can get to be quite large. You will not see most of it. We aren’t going down far.” Doc selected B1, making Grian question why they were even taking the elevator if they were only going down one floor, but after a particularly long ride, he got some idea.

Basement Floor 1 was massive and sprawling and dark. Grian had better eyesight than most, even at night, but the only parts of the ceiling he could see were spots of reflective metal and small pools of light that bounced off stalactites.

“Do- do those ever fall?” Grian asked, eyes wide at the ceiling, and Doc stopped, turning in a slow swivel so Grian could see his entire upper half.

“Yes.” He flexed the fingers on his mechanical arm, glowing red eye boring into Grian, “It is a good thing The Hivemind is smart. And quick. Though, after the second incident, we hope to have fixed the problem. On the other floors. My workstation remains as it is.”

“You- You can’t just knock them all down?”

“I can. But I believe that if God wishes for me to be struck down, then she should have the means to do so herself. She’s gotten a couple good shots in,” Doc narrowed his physical eye, and Grian was pretty sure there was humor there, “but she knows I am above her power. So instead we will continue to feud, and I will continue to break her precious world. And if one day I die, then I would have it to be no other way than by her hand.”

“If-?”

Doc only laughed, continuing to walk down the corridor. Grian was forced to follow lest he be left behind.

It occurred too late to Grian that he probably shouldn’t be surprised Doc was leading him to see Scar’s legs. Regardless, Doc was amused, chuckling when Grian took a sharp breath.

“I wanted him to come and get them. With or without you. Worked all night on the programming with The Hivemind, though, turns out that wasn’t necessary. You two are slow. HotGuy isn’t even here.”

Grian cast a nervous look at Scar’s legs, laid flat on a desk next to a large monitor. The workspace had the feel of an organized mess, all the clutter making it difficult to tell what exactly Doc had done. Well, if he was programming something, Grian wouldn’t be able to see it anyway. Were- were the legs even programmable? How would that work?

“What did you do to them?” Grian finally said, feeling incredibly daft at the note of worry he failed to suppress.

Doc snorted. “Nothing. I did make a mechanical waist though,” he hummed, shaking his head, “Well, that’s not true, I’ve had the actual machine bit made for a while now, I just did most of the other stuff last night. It’s been some time since I’ve gotten a look at these, and the technology has advanced significantly since then. At least my tech has; imagine my surprise when I see his useless government agency has hardly updated his prosthetics at all! If it’s not broke don’t fix it I suppose, but these are certainly broke. I’ll make sure to get started on a prototype for an update soon, yeesh. Regardless, after digging through my old blueprints, it wasn’t hard to hook everything up to a little remote control. Oh, his face will be priceless. His own legs greeting him at the door and kicking his ass?” Doc laughed, missing Grian’s open mouth gaping, “Unfortunately balance is still an issue, I obviously didn’t have time to work out all the kinks, but I’m just here to mess with him, it’ll be serviceable for-“

“Wait- Wait-“ Doc did not look happy about being interrupted, fixing Grian with a glare that stopped him directly in his tracks.

“Go on.”

“You made his prosthetics? His legs?”

“Obviously. Who else would have made them? Have you seen the typical modern-day prosthetic? They’re nothing like mine, borderline barbaric. Of course, mine are quite expensive, and people don’t just go and commission a guy like me over the table. HotGuy’s parents must love their son very much, though, they threw a whole tissy when I told them I’d need to visit him in the hospital. Idiots. As if I would trust anyone other than myself to collect the measurements I needed. They made me arrive under a sheet-“ Doc cut himself off with a groan, “The things I put up with sometimes. HotGuy’s lucky it was an interesting project. Human legs are very different from my own, so I wouldn’t be messing with them without an excuse. Of course, he grew up to be a fucking pain in the ass, didn’t he. Could have done a better job just raising the kid myself.” Grian had so many questions, but Doc hardly even stopped to breathe when he spoke, and Grian wasn’t about to interrupt a second time.

“Fuck, if they haven’t updated the legs, they probably haven’t touched his back either. Did you know that? His lower back was completely shattered- now that was an interesting project. Idiots, seriously, commissioning me to make their son legs when he’d never be able to use them. I ended up doing a lot of work on that boy, and not one thank you. Not from him all these years later or his useless family. He’d still be in that hospital bed without me, I know it. I bet if they’d let me have my way with him he would have been walking in under a year. But no, no, I was only on the project for two years, and I believe it lasted five? Six? Those idiots made me sign an NDA and everything!” Doc barked a hard laugh, “What are they going to do? Take me to court? Arrest me? Stupid. Amusing in hindsight, but they were insufferable.”

“I- okay. I mean, it’s not like this is common knowledge or anything. I feel like I would have seen this somewhere by now if the public knew you made all his prosthetics.”

“Oh no, the information isn’t public. I’d rather peel off my skin than be associated with that lot, and I’m sure HotGuy’s managers feel similarly about me. There’s a reason his prosthetics are so outdated- look, feel this. The movement at the joints is awful!” Doc took Grian’s hand, uncaring for his own strength as he yanked Grian forward to touch (something that felt deeply invasive toward Scar, though, it wasn’t like Grian had a choice) as Doc bent the knee. Grian had no idea what he was supposed to be feeling here, but Doc must have mistaken his discomfort for agreement because he let go right after.

Grian cleared his throat, rubbing his wrist, “And you think HotGuy knows?”

“Knows what?”

“That you made his prosthetics. I’m just curious, I mean.. He’s never mentioned it- not that we’re close or anything. It just feels like something that might have come up before to uh- well I don’t know if dating is the right word, but he and my roommate have something going on-“

Doc rolled his eyes with a huff, “Of course HotGuy knows! He’s just conceited like the rest of his family- his workforce for that matter. God forbid the public know how blurry the lines between ‘hero’ and ‘villain’ actually are. The only actual reason I’ve got the government breathing down my neck is due to the IRS- no, I will not be paying ridiculous sums to DC just for the money to be wasted on international affairs the States have no business sticking their nose into anyway. I only immigrated for the, quite frankly, insane lack of weapons regulation. You can do whatever the fuck you want in America. Regardless, I’d do better to put that money into the community myself.”

“Do you?”

“Not locally, I have a reputation to uphold and I like this shithole the way it is. Occasionally if I see something that really pisses me off I’ll pour some money into it.” Doc scowled, like the thought of doing any good at all was deeply unappealing, “For the most part though, I only keep tabs on the world as it pertains to me. I care very little for pettiness.”

Grian snorted. “Is using HotGuy’s own prosthetics to kick his ass because he never said ‘thank you,’ not petty?”

“For personal matters, I indulge. Most of the time however, I am far too busy for nonsense such as this. Speaking of, I have work to do, so I am going to hold you for ransom to speed this up. Do you have a problem with that?”

“If I comply, do I get a share of the cash?”

“You can take whatever you want. I just want HotGuy here.”

Grian’s wings fluttered, his mind already moving miles a minute, “Do you need a picture? Oh please, let’s take pictures. Something fun, ambiguous- I really want to mess with him.”

“Can I not just take a picture of you right here. Maybe try to look at least mildly unhappy, I’d like if HotGuy had a reason to be prompt.”

“Oh he’ll be prompt- do you have a tripod or something? We don’t need one obviously, I just feel like you’d be the type of guy to have something like that on hand. Do you? How do you feel about the lightest of the light kind of suggestive pictures? I think it would be funny. Ambiguously suggestive. Honestly, I just kinda feel like you’d be a fun person to pose with, y’know? I have a vision. Just saying, if you really want to fuck with HotGuy, this would go crazy. Your fans would go NUTS. Do you know about your fans? I saw some things while doing research.”

Doc snorted, ears flicking in what Grian was pretty sure was amusement, “You remind me of a man I knew long ago,” he sighed, sounding dangerously wistful. His eyes shone as he raised a shaking fist to the ceiling.

“You don’t have to divulge-“ Grian started in great alarm, but there was no stopping the rapidly approaching trauma exposition hurdling his way.

“Ren was a brilliant man. Awkward, but damn clever, an incredibly talented engineer with ideas to rival my own. Struck down too soon, too soon. Sometimes I wonder if that stalactite was meant for me, or if it was meant as a punishment greater than death. She knew I would try to bring him back, friend. She knew he would come back wrong.”

“This seems really personal-“

“A hippie.” Doc growled, and Grian got the sense this train was not slowing down any time soon. Might as well settle in.

#hermitcraft #hermitfic #hermitshipping #grian #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #docm77 #cubscarian hotguy au #hotguy #cuteguy

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loversberceuse · 4 months ago

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Allow me to guide you through this experience.

The year is 20XX, and the world's population has finally succumbed to a disease. While such an event was expected, this disease didn't turn anyone into zombies or wipe out an entire population due to sickness. It is a sickness, sure, but nothing like what was expected.

It all started with a steep increase in crime.

At first, the constant murders and missing persons' cases went unnoticed. These things happen all the time, especially in big cities. As the amount of crime increased, so did the panic. With thorough research, which took about a year and a half to complete, the cause was discovered. This disease caused people to go insane, caused them to obsess over one singular person. They'd do anything and everything in their power, even murder, if it meant keeping the person they were so incredibly infatuated with close to them. In short, it turned people into what a person would call a yandere.

The disease spread rapidly throughout the world, leaving insanity and death in its wake. Despite the steps taken to counteract this, nothing helped. This disease continued to spread, continued to destroy what people used to know as their daily lives.

It's now been two years since the disease was officially announced on live television. While most of the world's population are now classified as yanderes, a few unaffected by the disease still remain. Among those few are, luckily for those reading, you! Somehow, you, the reader, have managed to make it this far. Congratulations! You've made some friends along the way as well.

Valkyrie, who you managed to save from an awful eye injury after some chaos in your hometown two months ago. While he did still lose his eye, he's still happy to come along and help keep you and the rest of the group safe. (TAG: lbValkyrie)

Lune, though apprehensive about joining this small group due to fear of catching the disease, has become a great friend to everyone in your little team. He dislikes being touched, though, so you've learned to keep your distance. (TAG: lbLune)

Elias is.. Well.. He's simply just someone you ran into one day. He seems fairly reserved, but is also probably considered the most "normal" of anybody else in the group. Not much else is to be said about him, he's an alright guy. (TAG: lbElias)

Your little squad has been just fine, everyone has managed to fend off any stray yandere along the way to safety. These guys do make everything easier, and finding supplies is much easier with more people around.

Lately, though, all three of them have been acting strangely...

Hello! Welcome to my blog! This is a two-sided yandere oc x reader blog! My friend, who will be writing for the other three, has their own blog for this as well (You can find it here) .Speaking of my dear friend, all art on my blog (unless said otherwise,) was made by them! (They can also be found here at @buriedpair )

#yandere #yandere x darling #yandere male #lbValkryie #lbLune #lbElias #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere boyfriend

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trashyvanillabean · 2 months ago

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So, not gonna lie, I do have a few gripes with how the writers handled Taoran. (Image below taken from the fan wiki.)

NOTE: IF YOU HAVEN’T PLAYED/ARE STILL PLAYING 2.5, BEWARE THE SPOILERS!

His first “appearance” (just his voice) was in the Myriad Celestia Trailer: “History of the Xianzhou: Exodus of the Five Dragons.” Anything else so far (because there might be things that I personally missed) comes from the “Preceptor Assembly Chronicle Fragment” readable, which has him and Preceptor Fenghuan accusing Preceptor Xuepu of attempting to replace the High Elder system with the council of Preceptors (basically accusing her of being power-hungry, which is rather hypocritical as some of us will have undoubtedly noted come version 2.5).

The problem with Taoran’s introduction is that, unless players have tried to dig into the lore, this is probably their first time ever seeing, hearing and/or reading about him; so, what small amount of time he has on screen is most likely going to be somewhat lukewarm and have players asking, “Who the fork is this handsome muddlefudger?????” (Not even gonna hide this under a strikethrough: his design is 🔥 but it’s wasted on this lame old man. 🙂‍↕️ No one even points out his horns, unless that turns out to be common among the Preceptors rather than just the High Elders. <- It’s been a while, I can’t remember this part more accurately.)

And while I greatly enjoyed watching Dan Heng get as close to making this guy some kinda piscine-reptile kebab as he might be willing to…Taoran’s first physical introduction is otherwise slightly lukewarm. What little buildup we have comes from Lingsha, Jing Yuan and Dan Heng carrying out their investigations in the Shackling Prison. After that, he’s only given one scene confessing right out of the gate to colluding with Sanctus Medicus and aiding the borisin in freeing Hoolay, throwing out excuses that it’s all to preserve the Vidyadhara from extinction, and trying to hide behind Bailu and the oath between the Vidyadhara with the Xianzhou Alliance to not harm any Vidyadhara on their territory (which should honestly be rendered null in the event where the Vidyadhara in question is a criminal, and could potentially be evading arrest, like what the fudge).

I think it would have gone better if Taoran was introduced much earlier when we first arrived at the Luofu during or after version 1.0, like during the main trailblaze mission when we visit the Alchemy Commission and Scalegorge Waterscape, or during Dan Heng, Bailu or Jingliu’s companion missions. Either set him up as an ally at first, and then have us finding clues and be warned by a few people (Qingzu, Fu Xuan, or Jing Yuan himself <- just tossing Jing Yuan in here as just an example) to not trust Taoran and the Preceptors. Or, have him try to stop us from reaching Scalegorge, and that’s unfortunately where that idea stops because I can’t think of anything else. Sorry. 😅

One thing I liked was the “boss fight” that followed, but that actually felt a bit worse than his introduction…? Like, again, lukewarm, but definitely more like tap-water-that-hasn’t-really-been-boiled-long-enough lukewarm. 😅 (Or maybe my team comp was just that strong enough to bring him and his mooks down in a few hits.) Even the confrontation with him before that fight didn’t feel threatening at all, just…pretty annoying, like having to sit in a really boring lecture in a classroom.

Even Skott’s mechs put up more of a fight, and Skott himself riled me up much more just by opening his mouth. (Note: I was listening to Skott’s English voice, and I think they did a great job of making him obnoxious.)

Taoran was just all pretentious “blah blah blah.”

I’m suddenly reminded of that one post comparing Taoran to the Abundant Ebon Deer, and some people might think I’m crazy for thinking this, but I just… *heavy sighs* I feel like the writers really wasted potential for an interesting villain and following up with a stronger boss fight (even if I hate fighting that darn deer). 😞

Oh well, at least we got to enjoy Dan Heng in the spotlight~ 🥰

@artheresy tagging you in this for funsies. 👀

I’ll also put screenshots of that readable I mentioned under here and the map location, in case anyone wants to read it immediately before searching for it on their own.

#someone: *GASP* ANOTHER OPINION!!! Y’ALL GET READY TO CANCEL—#please calm down this is just my opinion 😅#one of my new biggest fears is that Preceptor Xuepu will be playable and I won’t have enough Stellar Jades for her 🙂‍↕️#honkai star rail #hsr taoran #hsr 2.5 #hsr spoilers #<- tagging just in case #vanille throws out the garbage

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mariacallous · 2 months ago

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Our planet is choking on plastics. Some of the worst offenders, which can take decades to degrade in landfills, are polypropylene—which is used for things such as food packaging and bumpers—and polyethylene, found in plastic bags, bottles, toys, and even mulch.

Polypropylene and polyethylene can be recycled, but the process can be difficult and often produces large quantities of the greenhouse gas methane. They are both polyolefins, which are the products of polymerizing ethylene and propylene, raw materials that are mainly derived from fossil fuels. The bonds of polyolefins are also notoriously hard to break.

Now, researchers at UC Berkeley have come up with a method of recycling these polymers that uses catalysts that easily break their bonds, converting them into propylene and isobutylene, which are gases at room temperature. Those gases can then be recycled into new plastics.

“Because polypropylene and polyethylene are among the most difficult and expensive plastics to separate from each other in a mixed waste stream, it is crucial that [a recycling] process apply to both polyolefins,” the research team said in a study recently published in Science.

Breaking It Down

The recycling process the team used is known as isomerizing ethenolysis, which relies on a catalyst to break down olefin polymer chains into their small molecules. Polyethylene and polypropylene bonds are highly resistant to chemical reactions, because both of these polyolefins have long chains of single carbon-carbon bonds. Most polymers have at least one carbon-carbon double bond, which is much easier to break.

While isomerizing ethenolysis had been tried by the same researchers before, the previous catalysts were expensive metals that did not remain pure long enough to convert all of the plastic into gas. Using sodium on alumina followed by tungsten oxide on silica proved much more economical and effective, even though the high temperatures required for the reaction added a bit to the cost.

In both plastics, exposure to sodium on alumina broke each polymer chain into shorter polymer chains and created breakable carbon-carbon double bonds at the ends. The chains continued to break over and over. Both then underwent a second process known as olefin metathesis. They were exposed to a stream of ethylene gas flowing into a reaction chamber while being introduced to tungsten oxide on silica, which resulted in the breakage of the carbon-carbon bonds.

The reaction breaks all the carbon-carbon bonds in polyethylene and polypropylene, with the carbon atoms released during the breaking of these bonds ending up attached to molecules of ethylene. “The ethylene is critical to this reaction, as it is a coreactant,” researcher R.J. Conk, one of the authors of the study, told Ars Technica. “The broken links then react with ethylene, which removes the links from the chain. Without ethylene, the reaction cannot occur.”

The entire chain is catalyzed until polyethylene is fully converted to propylene, and polypropylene is converted to a mixture of propylene and isobutylene.

This method has high selectivity—meaning it produces a large amount of the desired product: propylene derived from polyethylene, and both propylene and isobutylene derived from polypropylene. Both of these chemicals are in high demand; propylene is an important raw material for the chemical industry, while isobutylene is a frequently used monomer in many different polymers, including synthetic rubber and a gasoline additive.

Mixing It Up

Because plastics are often mixed at recycling centers, the researchers wanted to see what would happen if polypropylene and polyethylene underwent isomerizing ethenolysis together. The reaction was successful, converting the mixture into propylene and isobutylene, with slightly more propylene than isobutylene.

Mixtures also typically include contaminants in the form of additional plastics. So the team also wanted to see whether the reaction would still work if there were contaminants. They experimented with plastic objects that would otherwise be thrown away, including a centrifuge and a bread bag, both of which contained traces of other polymers besides polypropylene and polyethylene. The reaction yielded only slightly less propylene and isobutylene than it did with unadulterated versions of the polyolefins.

Another test involved introducing different plastics, such as PET and PVC, to polypropylene and polyethylene to see if that would make a difference. These did lower the yield significantly. If this approach is going to be successful, then all but the slightest traces of contaminants will have to be removed from polypropylene and polyethylene products before they are recycled.

While this recycling method sounds like it could prevent tons upon tons of waste, it will need to be scaled up enormously for this to happen. When the research team increased the scale of the experiment, it produced the same yield, which looks promising for the future. Still, we’ll need to build considerable infrastructure before this could make a dent in our plastic waste.

“We hope that the work described … will lead to practical methods for … [producing] new polymers,” the researchers said in the same study. “By doing so, the demand for production of these essential commodity chemicals starting from fossil carbon sources and the associated greenhouse gas emissions could be greatly reduced.”

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autumnmobile12 · 21 days ago

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You know, when you get right down to it, I think the biggest reason fans were unsatisfied with My Hero's finale was the fact Horikoshi just completely blindsided everyone with a sad ending.

The series had its sad moments, sure, but the overall atmosphere was upbeat and hopeful. Classic 'we can do this' shonen, you know? But he didn't build up to the sad ending, mainly because, and to put it bluntly, he didn't kill off enough relevant characters.

Overall, the deaths that do occur in the series are minimal (not counting flashback deaths like Nana Shimura and the Shimura family as those are backstories to the main plot) and most of them don't leave a huge impact. Character deaths sadden me as much as the next person, but there's a reason they happen in fiction.

My Hero Academia had a conflict that ultimately evolved from a small disgruntled faction challenging hero society to an entire army challenging hero society. It was a war. Wars are messy and difficult and traumatic. You expect to lose people in a war.

So to analyze the few deaths that happen through the series...

Magne: I've said in a previous post her death was basically there to show Overhaul's abilities and willingness to kill, and sadly, I think that's the only reason Horikoshi didn't include her among the arrested villains of the Summer Camp Arc. All the other LoV members had an establishing moment when they first appeared, something that made them memorable. Magne did not get that kind of impact and sadly remains to be the least memorable character in the LoV. How many LoV related posts/fanarts have you seen that leave her out?

Snatch: Horikoshi created this guy for the sole purpose of killing him off. He had no further purpose and even Dabi forgot who he was immediately after the fact.

Sir Nighteye: A sad death because we did get a whole arc where he was adjacent enough to Deku to have development, but was Nighteye's death necessary or there for shock value? I say shock value because outside of Mirio bringing him up now and then, he's barely mentioned after his death. His Quirk wasn't regarded as a huge loss and his death didn't effect the outcome of the war all that much.

Midnight: A little closer to home since she was a teacher to the main cast, but she didn't have many interactions with the students that wasn't purely a student-teacher dynamic. She was more than the 'sex appeal comedy' character in that she's shown to be legitimately intelligent and levelheaded, but there are no scenes where she talks one on one with Deku or his classmates and provide a more meaningful dynamic. If Horikoshi was going for something that would really hurt the fanbase, he'd have killed off Aizawa in the Jaku City battle. Aizawa was the only one of the UA teachers who had the screen time and character development to be the 'surrogate parent' character supporting the main cast, so his death in the series would have been devastating, especially since his Quirk plays a key role in all the major fights. No hate to Midnight, but the little amount of screen time she had and the lack of relationships she formed with the main cast did not trigger much of an emotional response for me.

Twice: Twice is the only character death I can think of that really meant something to the series. He had impact, he was memorable, the fans got attached to him, and the reason he died was valid. Hawks kills him to prevent him from overwhelming the hero's side with a one man army. That threw a major wrench in the LoV's plans. Not a debilitating one, but it was a hit to the team and to a small degree, even Hawks regretted having to kill him. This is how you do a meaningful character death.

So compare that with other series.

Fullmetal Alchemist: Shit, a lot of characters die in FMA, major and minor. Nobody is over Nina and Alexander. Nobody is over Hughes. Nina was a little girl with her life ahead of her, and Alexander was her beloved dog. Hughes had a family. They both had things to live for.

D. Gray Man: Not as many core cast members, but the side characters that do die are memorable and it's heartbreaking. Even if they're only there for a brief time, the impact is there. All Suman wanted was to see his daughter again, even if it meant becoming a traitor. Chronically overworked Tapp's dying words are to say he would take on all the overtime in the world if he could keep living. Alma finally got to rest in peace after being non-consensually resurrected in a cruel science experiment.

Black Butler: Not very many character deaths, but the few that have happened hit hard. Not naming any names because I know there are anime-only peeps out there, but to my fellow manga-readers, you know who i'm talking about.

With My Hero Academia, Twice died for his friends. We see how much he cared about them. What did Magne die for? Her cause, sure, but she's not in the series long enough to leave that lasting impression. What did Snatch, Sir Nighteye, and Midnight have to live for? They didn't talk about their ambitions, their dreams, their families, their plans for retirement, none of that came up, and so we as the audience don't get that heartbreaking moment of, "No, they didn't get to _____!" Sure, I guess we can say Nighteye doesn't get to see Mirio become the greatest hero, but that's a pretty standard dream across all the teacher/mentor dynamics with their protégés, so it's not unique. Fuck, even Endeavor has that ambition for Shouto. AFO has that ambition for Shigaraki. So Nighteye’s dream is not unique enough to be its own matter of significance.

...

I saw someone's assessment on how the finale was realistic, that a social change wasn't going to happen overnight. And that's true, we couldn't realistically expect a social change happening overnight, but when you pair that against the unrealistic outcome where no major character deaths happened on the protagonists' side of things, it's off-putting and it actually made the fate of the main villains unbalanced.

Realistically, yes, with what the LoV did (mass murder, inciting violent radicals, terrorism), that would warrant life in prison, a death sentence, etc. But in a fictional sense, since they didn't do anything extreme to the main cast, thus eliciting an emotional response from the audience, we don't really have the satisfaction of justice served in this circumstance.

Dabi's crimes are background information. He says himself in his broadcast that he's killed 'up to thirty innocent people.' That's not insignificant, but from an audience's perspective...who were those thirty and why do we care? There were those protesters publicly shaming Endeavor by asking if he'd seen the families of Dabi's victims on the news. That's fine and well, but we as the audience didn't see that. We do see him kill Snatch, but no one cares because of the above reasons. Everyone else Dabi kills onscreen are either the PLF or those anti-heteromorph cult guys, both of whom were people the audience weren't going to miss because they were fellow antagonists and bigots.

The problem with all of this is we were told about Dabi's crimes, not shown.

Personally, I'd have been more comfortable with Dabi's fate had he actually made good on his threats to throw his family's charred remains at Endeavor's feet or if he'd managed to kill some of Shouto's friends and mocked their deaths to his face. That is horrific and would have more closely warranted what he was dealt in the end. There's being furious and in pain over a traumatic childhood, and then there's committing atrocities against people who weren't the sole cause of that trauma. Which is what the 'thirty innocent people' were supposed to represent, but again, who were they and why do we care? Instead, what we're left with is 'Dabi is an angry, traumatized child trying to enact a social change.' Not for the noble reason of preventing his fate from happening to another child but out of hatred for his abuser, but a valid cause all the same, and he was disproportionately punished for it. (From a reader's perspective.)

...

It's the same with Toga. We're told right away at her first appearance she's a serial murderer, but again, she doesn't kill any of the main cast. She killed Curious, but no one really cared. I don't even think Curious' allies cared.

Look at it this way: Imagine if Rock Lock's character had been given more screen time, had been part of the series longer, and he was built up as the new father and family man and he's genuinely looking out for younger heroes instead of being a roundabout asshole about it, and then Toga kills him the Shie Hassaikai raid. That could have invoked Maes Hughes levels of outrage in the fanbase.

Or a bit closer to home , she could have killed Aizawa in the Shie Hassaikai raid right in front of sweet, little Deku’s innocent eyes. If she, like Dabi, actually took out main cast members, characters the audience were emotionally invested in, then her ending might have been more appropriate.

We loved Envy as a villain, but he also killed Hughes, another beloved character, so damn were we satisfied to see him go out the way he did.

Toga didn't do anything onscreen that was half as bad as what Envy did and yet she died for it. Offscreen technically.

...

Spinner might be the only one of the group whose fate fit the crime. His reasons were an echo of Stain, but advocating for a change to a flawed government system is a worthy cause.

Where he went wrong is it wasn't a cause worth killing for. The Commission and hero society would have to be much worse canonically for that to happen. Like blatantly totalitarian policies. The PLF was put down because they were enacting a violent uprising, not necessarily because of their views.

Example: Destro's book wasn't a banned text and people were free to read it. When Hawks gave it to Endeavor, he wasn't scolded for carrying a banned book around. If the government placed those kinds of restrictions (imprisoning anyone who published it, owned a copy, quoted its teachings, etc.), that would be the worrying signs of censorship.

News stations throughout the series freely criticize hero society. In a true fascist government, that wouldn't happen.

The video of Stain's last stand being deleted over and over could be considered censorship, but one could also argue it was deleted in the interest of not causing a panic rather than blocking his message from reaching the public.

Now I'm not ignoring Nagant's story where corrupt heroes were being quietly dealt with because that is some shady cover-up bs, but it's also a brief blip in the series and not explored all that much, which really more so highlights Horikoshi's inconsistencies in just how corrupt the Commission actually was. (I mean, maybe they really were chewing their nails nervously when they found out what Hawks was doing with the Destro books. "We can't kill him! You have any idea how expensive training another one would be?")

So no, while Spinner's cause was right, the way he tried to achieve it wasn't the answer. Nothing of what the Commission was canonically doing was worth the level of violence reached. If he was writing articles that outed problematic heroes and flaws in the system and then was shut down/imprisoned for that, then we can revisit the violent uprising because if you can't solve a solution with words because those words are being forcefully silenced, then you have no choice but to either accept it or resort to other methods.

And Spinner lives in the end. Probably in prison for the rest of his life, but he lives and his closing message to the series is, "We lost our war, but I will tell our story. We won't be forgotten."

Notice I said at the beginning of his how his 'fate' fit the crime. Imprisoned, he can no longer fight his war with violence. But he can still fight his war, and possibly still win, with words. Since we can see it available for purchase, his book is not a banned text even though he is a convicted criminal.

...

As much as I loved the character, I think Shigaraki dying was the only way his story could definitively end given the parameters set down by the canon finale. His life wasn't saved, but what kind of life could he realistically hope to have after everything he did? Would a life in prison be better than what he got?

We could go into the fact he could have been rehabilitated, but given how the world barely changes after the fact...rehabilitated to suit the flawed system still doesn't seem like a great outcome for him either.

...

Then we have the main cast just...carrying on? A bunch of people Quirkless, scarred, crippled, unable to use their Quirks the way they had before, and essentially gave everything they had for a world that...ultimately changed very little?

Was this really where it was all going?

So yeah, for all the hope and upbeat attitudes that prevailed through the bulk of the series, I don't think any of that correlates particularly well with the ending. We went from 'we can do this' and slammed into 'we are physically and psychologically scarred for the rest of our lives' brutally fast.

And then we're just hit with, "And that's how we became the world's greatest heroes." Against the overall sadness of the finale, that hopeful line is a tasteless cop-out.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #manga ending #manga spoilers #criticism #bnha #mha #black butler #d gray man #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #crossover insight

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gunnrblze · 3 months ago

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Morale Boost

Rorke x Elias, SFW, 2700k words

CW: nothing much, angst(?), horrific and nauseating amounts of pining, yearning, and teasing. a singular brief mention of strip poker lol

Hello gang, ngl this is very all over the place I fear, hardly proofread and maybe a lil confusing, generally not my best lol. Silly dumb lil thing about my favorite homoerotic coded old men though cause I <3 them severely.

Celebrations of any kind, whether big or small, were few and far between. There simply wasn’t time to dwell on things for too long, came with the territory of the job.

So when the Ghosts did have downtime to celebrate a win, they took it.

A successful recon and intel mission near the border of No Man’s Land awarded the team with boatloads of info on Federation security and weapons distribution, along a base that they’d planned to give a bit of…reconstruction to. They had an in, and got out, too.

Once back on their home turf, the men yearned to relax and rejuvenate for as long as they could before duty called again. Elias mentioning something about boosting morale after the grueling mission, to which Rorke could only concede.

Not that he historically had a particularly hard time giving in to his lieutenant, that is.

They all settled into a sparsely filled common room on base. A worn in leather couch lining the wall, with a table and a few squeaky desk chairs around its edges. A matching and peeling leather chair shoved in the corner. A small, dusty kitchenette that clearly wasn’t used very often, and a few lamps that provided enough light. It wasn’t much, but they didn’t need much.

Keegan and Ajax supplied some beers from god knows where on base. Nobody asked, even when the men that slurped them down could tell they’d definitely been anything but refrigerated for a while.

Torch had an old pack of playing cards lying around his quarters which piqued enough interest among the men, and Merrick, to the shock of absolutely no one, drug out a bottle of whiskey for their little occasion.

Neptune planted himself in the corner chair and ignored the groans of everyone when he lit a cigarette inside, except Kick, who was too busy reveling in the fact that he found an expired pack of Oreos in the kitchenette drawer.

Some of the men huddled around the old table and squeaked around in their chairs, while Torch and Grim argued over the rules of poker for a few minutes. Rorke seemed as intrigued with the whiskey that Merrick had supplied as Keegan was, who abandoned his beer to Ajax to take a shot of the smooth liquid himself.

Elias could only grin as he relaxed into the beat up couch, a drinking game already at play between a few of the soldiers. Although it was hard to tell where the game started and where the need to just get a little tipsy ended.

From afar, Elias watched his Captain. Watched the way his adams apple bobbed when he took a shot of the potent liquor. The way his thick arms crossed and folded to lean over Torch’s shoulder and insist how real men play poker, whispering something that made the younger man chuckle and made Ajax beg to be let in on the joke. His eyes followed the way the man’s chest grumbled in a chuckle when Kick insisted the best way to play was actually strip poker, the cheeky bastard earning a silent slap on the back of the neck from Keegan.

He didn’t usually have time to really look at the man. The greying soldier far too busy watching him bark out commands all day and then following them. Who was the real dog, if not Elias? Rorke barked and damn near bared his teeth during battle, but Elias followed him around endlessly. His lieutenant, second in command, right hand man and comrade. His dog, if there ever was one. To the ends of the earth, he’d follow him.

But he didn’t get to observe his Captain in a setting like this very often, no. Relaxed and at ease as the man came strutting over loosely to the very couch he was already sunken into. Three shots in, and Rorke was still hardly able to even be classified as tipsy, too large and brutish to be swayed very much. But just enough to perk up his snarky attitude and turn it into a near playful one.

He sat down next to Elias, thick thighs spreading out on instinct. Knocking a knee against his lieutenants with a chuckle, head nodding to the group of soldiers playing poker, or maybe it was black jack, at the table ahead.

“C’mon Walker, you always have been a decent card player, join em” the older man would grin as he looked over at Elias, donning that signature smirk that always made his heart beat out of pace for a moment, despite having known his Captain for so long. Despite being able to map out the lines and scars on his face as if that were his real job here.

He chuckled loosely, shaking his head as he sipped down the stale tasting beer that Ajax had nearly shoved in his hand earlier, insisting that the old man relax a bit too.

Rorke chuckled back, deep and carrying that air of confidence that seemed to follow him everywhere, as his eyes lingered on Elias’ lips around the can for a beat too long. They made a few seconds of that eye contact, that precious, knowing look being shared. I’d stare all day long, if I could.

It made Elias’ heart do that thing again, the one that he’d started to write off as older age catching up to him. A heart palpitation here and there wasn’t a bad thing, he reckoned.

Everyone was engrossed with the game at the table, including Neptune who was on his second cigarette in the near corner, and Kick, who’s energy seemed to only multiple upon eating that sleeve of too soft Oreos that had him bouncing back and forth between leaning against the kitchenette and hovering over Grims shoulder to watch the game.

Elias knew well enough that with their slight distance from the group across the room, and the whiskey coursing through Rorkes veins, that they’d fall into that old song and dance again for a bit.

The one where all the unspoken words came bubbling to the surface, but apparently never enough to crack through.

“Ya did good on that op, brother…Merrick and I might not have made it out had you not been roundin the corner…” Rorkes voice was quieter now, but not soft, perhaps distanced. It rumbled out of his throat all the same, tinged with a meaning that only Elias could read through the cracks of.

You’re a good soldier, Lieutenant, never could get your head outta my ass for very long, Elias could almost hear the words that really threatened to spill from his mouth.

“You and Merrick could find your way out of a labyrinth, hardly needed an assist” he countered as he nursed his beer, not quite a retort yet.

You know damn well you’re just talking to fill the silence, you two had that in the bag, Rorke could similarly hear what Elias was really getting at, just too stubborn to ever take an opportunity to admit it.

Rorke chuckled and gave a short nod, knee still pressed against his Lieutenants on the beat up little couch they sat on. The game raved on in the middle of the room, Keegan not very surprisingly having the best poker face among the group, only Torch’s coming close to rivaling it.

“You know what I mean” Rorke settled for with a sigh that was too casual, legs spreading on the couch a bit more as he settled in. He didn’t miss the way Elias’ eyes roamed over his legs, not missing a beat with his comeback, though.

“Always have” he nodded, the silent tension between them strung out like an electrical wiring, making the liquor in Rorkes blood feel more like molten lava, heating his core up more than necessary. He wondered vaguely if Elias could ever cool him down, whatever that really meant.

They spoke and read between one another’s lines perfectly, familiarly. Hearts clawing for more while their brains simultaneously agreed that breaking the professional line would muck it all up far too much for either of their liking.

It was too convenient for the both of them. Elias could pretend that things stayed the way they were because he could never speak to his Captain the way he might actually want to. And Rorke could pretend that nothing changed because nothing could change. He wouldn’t admit any sort of feelings for a subordinate, for his Lieutenant, because that’s too far out of line. They’re too busy for that.

They both hid under the guise of rank and the ever demanding job being the stake in the road, keeping their misplaced glances and touches at bay with a simple, unspoken reminder that Elias needs to stay in his place, and that it’s Rorke’s job to keep him there.

They both knew, however. That the feeling wasn’t one of comradeship, much as they both liked to dance around it in their heads as well. They were in a room filled to the brim with their fellow soldiers. Their fellow men, their brothers whom they’d go to hell and back for again without question.

And as much as Elias knew that he damn near worshipped his Captain, he also couldn’t bring himself to admit an existence beyond being a windowed husband, a single father. Rorke wasn’t anything to him that could be defined out of the dictionary, he just was.

Perhaps Rorke was the more realistic of the two, his image of Elias taking more shape within his imagination. His right hand, his loyal lieutenant, someone he couldn’t bear to go without whether on the field or not. A man that Rorke knew would do absolutely anything for him, if only he’d ask. His worshipper. He didn’t want it to inflate his ego but it did. Because truthfully, there was no one Rorke looked up to more than Elias, rank be damned.

Elias’ devotion kept him awake at night. Clawing at his chest like a beast, desperate to pry open his ribcage and tear apart the chambers of his heart. He knew the only person, the only thing more important to Elias than him was the man’s sons.

He loved the boys by proxy through everything Elias would tell him. He distantly wondered if there would ever be a time where he could meet them. Meet the kids that kept his lieutenants world spinning, despite the way it was constantly crashing and crumbling around them.

They sat in silence for a while as the boys played their poker and drank their beers. Neither of them could keep track of how many games had been played at this point. Rorke was just content his men were getting some much needed down time, despite the one nagging at his side, even in the man’s silence somehow.

“Good idea you had, morale seems to be boosted” Rorke would speak up again after the tension had settled a bit, nudging Elias with an elbow, flashing him that grin that he swore Elias would mirror subconsciously sometimes. As if his will were not his own, too swayed by the older man’s gruff charm.

“Much needed” Elias would agree, giving a nod and continuing to sip on the beer that he wasn’t too sure he even wanted anymore. Rorke raised an eyebrow at the man, unable to wipe the smirk off his face as he shamelessly let his eyes roam over the man’s features.

Elias met his eyes, and cocked his own brow. He could feel his Captains gaze burning through him, that look in his eyes that he’d seen before. Rarely, but recognizable to him from somewhere.

“Is your morale boosted, Lieutenant?” Ah, that was the look. The one he donned before he got a little mouthy. Before he let that carefully constructed wall built between the two of them crumble for a moment. If not just to see what would happen before he patches it right back up.

Elias blinked for a moment, before huffing an almost unamused laugh. He wasn’t sure how he wanted to play this game, very aware that despite everyone being more than occupied, they were still in a room full of keen and curious men. Some who could also read between their lines sometimes.

“For now” the man replied smoothly, the knee still pressed to his Captains deciding to press a bit closer, earning him another cock of Rorkes eyebrow. An almost surprised one.

“For now?” Rorke echoed back with a hint of amusement, letting Elias press his knee closer. Letting him test the waters that they both knew he ultimately controlled.

The greying man simply hummed in agreement, gaze flickering back between the rowdy soldiers at the makeshift poker table and the brown eyes that threatened to burn through his own. A silent reminder that neither of them needed. We aren’t alone.

They danced on this line for a minute, wondering who should speak next. If either of them had the misplaced confidence to take the moment and stretch it out even more thin.

“By all means, Eli, if there’s something you need to keep your confidence up…” he was toying with the man now, getting personal. Dangling something in front of him that Elias would never really be granted. And the lieutenant wasn’t sure what to do with that, had he ever been this forward? Despite knowing it was all in vain anyway?

“Don’t start, Gabe” he retorted, lips stretching thin and unamused, the glare in his eyes usually reserved for his misbehaving boys. And the whiskey still swirling in Rorkes blood only enabled his boldness, grinning at Elias’ displeasure.

“Still wound up, ain’t’cha?” He’d grin at his lieutenant again, not so subtly licking over his bottom lip. It made Elias heart stop for a moment, he was sure, if not for the sole fact that this was more brave than Rorke had ever been with him. He felt like a dog being fed scraps, his Captain toying with him whenever he felt like it, yanking his chain just enough to rip it out from under him at the end.

Elias’ nostrils flared. Maybe it was the shitty beer he’d drank, combined with the exhaustion from the mission and the noise of the other seven men playing god knows what with those cards, but his response only stoked a fire within him. An annoyance that was slowly increasing. A need climbing up his spine, threatening to curl around his neck like a noose.

“Wonder why” he kept it short again, similar to the leash he knew Rorke was still tethering him to. It made his fingers curl around his beer can, nail beds turning white as he made eye contact with his Captain again, seeing a look flare in his eyes, his breathing deepen just a bit.

The tense moment was broken as Keegan’s grumbling voice sounded out, announcing he was hitting the sack for the night, much to Kick and Ajax’s displeasure. He gave Rorke a nod, briefly glancing at his Lieutenant sat next to him. Not missing the tension that lingered between the two.

Elias took the moment to agree with the younger man, setting his can down and standing up from the couch.

“Now Keegan I expected, but you too, Lieutenant? Didn’t even play a round!” Kick replied, flashing his charming little grin toward Elias from across the room.

Elias gave him a smile, waving him off as he stretched his arms out, no doubt shaking off said tension that’d started to prickle at his skin like needles. He tossed his beer can and headed toward the door.

“Get some good shut eye, Lieutenant, that’s an order…or I’ll come a knockin” Rorke muttered loud enough for Elias to hear, making the man pause momentarily to look back, eyes locking once more on that shit eating little grin plastered on his Captains face.

He didn’t know what that meant. He wasn’t sure how serious Rorke was being. What that would entail, but he briefly wondered if he should ignore his exhaustion long enough to find out.

Elias eyes met with his, and Rorke saw it again. The flame that drew him back to his Lieutenant time and time again. The fire he wanted to stoke, yet snuff out at the same time.

“Yes, sir”

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lostintransist · 21 days ago

Text

Liaison | Part 6 | Galas, Business, and Backroom Deals

Check out part one here. Up to chapter 34/38 on AO3.

Blinking hard at the computer didn’t change the fact the words had all become unreadable. You had started work at four am and hadn’t left your chair since. The phone showed 10:23 AM if you squinted. Pushing away from the computer you shuffled to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

As the last of the liquid ability to keep going dripped into your cup Kate finds you.

“Ah, Liaison. I’m glad I found you. I’ve cleared your schedule for the day. Go and grab your bag.” Kate dressed simply in jeans and flannel.

“What do you even do here Kate?”

Kate smirked at your exhausted question. “I coordinate teams on the ground. While you line up jobs for the team now I keep them all moving to the goals once we work the jobs.”

“Why did you clear my schedule then?” You focus the majority of your energy on the task of moving your coffee to a to-go cup and adding the prescribed amount of creamer.

“Because you’ve been with us long enough that Shepherd and I agree you can start taking on the networking parties.” The grin Kate has wouldn’t look out of place on a crocodile.

“And if I don’t want to be the face of the 141?” You mumble the question into your coffee. Kate hears you anyway.

“Too bad, you’ll be getting a £50,000 yearly raise and a company card for expenses.”

Spit takes with hot coffee should lead to a fine for whoever made the coffee come out of your nose. You cough until you can breathe again.

“Now much is my raise?” You stare at Kate with wide eyes, mouth agape.

“You heard me. Now go and get your stuff we have a lot to get done today. I’ll wait for you in the lobby.”

Hurrying down the hall you pack up your computer and ensure your workspace is clear. Firing off a quick text to König you head back down the hall.

<I’m getting a raise, so that’s cool. But now I have to go to parties 🤮

A reply pops up on your screen before you can reach the lobby.

>I would rather shoot myself in the head.

<While I understand the sentiment I’m going to like the chance to drink while working.

When you move close enough to see the lobby you see Harold, face red and chin quivering, talking with Kate who leans over the high counter.

“You okay Harold?”

Kate spins around to look at you while Harold sits in his chair, head disappearing below the eye line.

“He got some bad news about his family, ready to go?” Kate replies for him. She ushers you through the front door. You look over your shoulder, seeing nothing amiss.

“Where are we headed first?” You climb into the right side of the car, still uncomfortable with UK cars despite being here a year.

“You are getting a makeover today. Facial, massage, hair colored, among other things and then we are going to get you several dresses. Your first party is on Friday. I will be going with you and introducing you to a few people. Word that you work for us won’t take long to get around. Most people there will already have your number in their phone, so adding a pretty face to the number should help us get more jobs.” Kate drove as she spoke, slipping into traffic with ease.

“Kitty is going to be your hair stylist, she also does makeup. She is good at keeping her mouth shut and because of that has some high-priority clientele. Lana is going to provide your massage and Tia is going to give you a facial. We will be done at their salon in about two hours, which will leave plenty of time to get some dresses and shoes. The ladies will work at the same time to get everything done in time.”

You take note of the names Kate mentions and write them down in a small notebook along with what each woman does. This had been your trick to keeping jobs and people straight as you learn about them. Writing them helps everything stick and allows you to update your spreadsheets.

Kate always struck you as someone who tried to be ‘one of the guys’. Being on a first-name basis with women who fell into more traditionally female-coded jobs felt out of character. You tuck the incongruence into your mental folder on Kate. She did manage the liaison position before you, and if you are forced to go to parties then Kate must have had as well. You wonder if you can get a suit along with the dresses you are slated for.

The turn into the parking structure takes you by surprise, the oh-shit handle becoming one with your hand. Kate drives a bit wild, nothing like the controlled sedation of Harold. Though, as you think on it she drives much better than most of the team. You end up in a car with them for one reason or another from time to time.

Riding the elevator in silence you notice, maybe for the first time that you had several inches on Kate. Her large presence and the fact you slouched in your chair most of the time had left you with the impression you stood at nearly the same height.

When the ding of the elevator alerted you to the arrival of the correct floor you catch sight of a beautiful woman with bright pink hair standing behind the counter.

“Hi, Kate! Is this your new liaison?”

You wave as Kate introduces you.

“And remind me what we are getting ready for today?”

“Galas, business, and backroom deals like always Kitty.”

They laughed as if this were a commonly shared joke.

The next two hours should have been calming. All of your knots are attacked and obliterated by Lana. You must keep a neutral face when Tia is working on removing layers of dead skin. Kitty gives you what she calls low lights. You have no idea what that means but once all the women step from the room you rush to clothe yourself. Kate enters the room without knocking as you are halfway through getting your jeans on.

“Do you have any nicer underwear?” she pulls a face at your cotton undies and plain t-shirt bra.

“No? I don’t need them.” You wiggle your pants over your hips and ass, buttoning them and grabbing your shirt.

“You will, I will add that to our list of items to pick up.”

“If no one will be seeing them then I don’t need them.”

“Not your call, plus the nice underwear makes the clothes sit better, I promise.”

“I can’t imagine you getting all fancy for parties like this.”

“Oh trust me,” a wry tone, “It was not a walk in the park for me.”

Once your shirt is settled back in place you follow Kate into the proper salon area. Kitty has you sit in her chair. She drapes a gown over your clothes and gives you a light trim with some shaping. Kitty talks with Kate for most of the visit.

“What is the feeling you are going for on Friday’s party?”

“Classy, we need to introduce her and let her settle in people’s minds as one of ours before we start making waves.”

“Okay, send me a picture once you have the dress picked out and I will work with my associate Emma to get everything ready. Since there will be two of you I will be needing help.”

Hair cut, face scrubbed, nails buffed and shined, thoroughly assaulted you follow Kate back to the elevator. Going down two floors you are interested to see a high-end shop. The woman dressed all in black greats Kate with an air of self-importance, glancing you over before dismissing you mentally.

You can do no more than try on a dress and present it to Kate and the mistress of the shop before you are ordered back to try on another. After the twelfth dress, you send a message to König. The picture you send him is flattering, the floor-length ballgown hugged your breasts and flowed down in an elegant A-line.

<You wanted to be a sniper right?

>Ja.

<Any chance you could arrange to take me out before I have to try one more gown?

>Nein. You are friend.

The only reply you can think to send is a picture of you flipping him the bird.

@nicroyal02

Part 5 | Part 7

Masterlist

#cod #fanfiction #cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #price x reader #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap cod #john price x reader #konig x reader #konig cod #gary roach sanderson #kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod

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lets-try-some-writing · 2 years ago

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Okay, in regards to your Unicron is a parent to humans post, when you mention Unicron possessing an animal, I imagined a squirrel. Not some epic beast... I imagined the alien god of destruction sleeping at the center of the Earth as a squirrel.

But it fits. Squirrels are agents of chaos.

Squirrel runs into road, no one, not even the squirrel knows what's gonna happen. Squirrel gets under your vehicle's hood, chews the wires and makes a nest. Squirrel gets into the walls of your house, chews the wires and stores and insane amount of nuts. Squirrel gets cornered, jumps at you like a mad lad.

Could you imagine if Unicron just decided, "I'm a squirrel today and I'm going terrorize the Cybertronians and my brother can't even get mad cause chewing wires is what they do." Or "Hey, I'm a squirrel and travel-sized. I now shall nest in Raf's hair and protect the children this way."

Sorry this a wacked out thought that made me laugh, and felt compelled to share.

Dude I laughed for a solid minute reading this-

Agents of Chaos

After finding out about his surprise offspring, Unicron became protective immediately. But he quickly discovered several things, those being: He couldn't move or act all that much if he wanted to keep his spawn alive. His children quickly became fearful of anything that was abnormal to them. And lastly, fragging with the Cybertronians on his surface was far more enjoyable when there was nothing they could do to stop him.

With these thoughts in mind, Unicron devised the perfect avatar with which to protect, interact with, and care for his young while also making life difficult for everyone else and not drawing too much attention to himself. He searched the other organisms on his surface for days until he found it, the perfect avatar.

The squirrel.

It was chaos incarnate but so common in most places that it would fit right in even if Unicron used it for nefarious purposes. His chackling caused the earth to shake in places as he chose his first subject and took control of it. And while he did have some initial issues piloting the body of the small monster, he quickly got the hang of it and moved to meet the three among his many children who required his attention more so than any others.

Opting to go to Rafael, Unicron in the body of the squirrel quickly took up a place in the boy's arms, earning him a startled squeak and awed touches in response. Unicron chittered, oh so pleased with himself as he spent days refusing to leave Rafael alone, eventually gaining his avatar a place as the boy's pet, just like he planned. Then once he gained a solid foundation from which to work with, his avatar, now named Chitters, snuck into Rafael's school bag and snuck into the base that way.

Rafael was too busy working on his homework and chatting with his Cybertronian guardian to notice as Chitters wormed his way out of the bag and Unicron directed it to begin causing chaos. Unicron didn't want to totally sabotage the Cybertronians who called themselves Autobots, not while they were keeping his children safe. So he didn't direct Chitters to harm anything of importance, but he most certainly did go out of his way to make life hard for everyone. The squirrel quickly gained the ire of the entire team as Chitters tore into wires connecting to certain consoles in the base (never the groundbridge of course. Unicron couldn't risk harming his children after all). Chitters also stole small components from Ratchet's workspace and a few of Bumblebee's video games.

By the end of the day Chitters was banned from base and Rafael took him home with no small amount of guilt. Of course no matter what Rafael did to try and keep Chitters from getting into base, it was useless since Chitters snuck in by hiding on Jack and Miko of by straight up waltzing into the base via Unicron's aid. The abominable squirrel swiftly became an unstoppable pain in the aft that none of the team could do anything about and accepted since the squirrel kept coming back.

Optimus eventually accepted that he was being cursed and merely sighed when his datapads disappeared randomly only to be found later bitten to shreds by a determined squirrel. Ratchet however never gave up trying to hide his small items and tools, even when they were repeatedly found and stolen by Chitters at Unicron's behest. Arcee stopped fighting back when Chitters clambered all over her and gnawed on her outer plating like an irritating but ultimately harmless scraplet. Bulkhead and Wheeljack took to booking it in the opposite direction whenever the "demon squirrel" came near. Unicron abused their reactions until he laughed himself into a stupor, even more so when the two wreckers began carrying tower shields to try and fend the Chitters off. Bumblebee valiantly tried and failed to keep Chitters from destroying his video game controllers and very nearly crushed the squirrel in outrage after the fifth time he had to replace his controller.

Bumblebee: YOU DETESTIBlE VERMIN!

Chitters/Unicron: *destroying yet another controller* This is what you deserve you abominable creation of Primus!

Bumblebee: *chasing after the squirrel* PERISH!

Chitters/Unicron: MWAhAHA!

Every single member of the team hated the squirrel with a seething passion. At times Optimus, usually ever merciful, contemplated taking the squirrel out back and putting it down in the most gruesome way possible. His contemplative thoughts nearly became reality once when Chitters got into his personal datapads that he usually kept hidden away. Those were his only remaining items from his time as Orion and he may or may not have blasted much of the wall into scrap as he widely shot at the squirrel. That day Unicron learned Optimus's limits and he did not touch the Prime's personal items again. He wanted to cause chaos, but he didn't want to earn the true ire of Primus's chosen vessel.

The team hated Chitters and the children knew it. So eventually Rafael tried in vain to let the squirrel go for the sanity of everyone. Long story short, he failed. No matter what he did, Chitters always came back and nestled in his hair like an unwelcome louse. Unicron wasn't upset in the slightest at the children gathering together to try and attempt to get rid of his avatar. In fact he found it to be a fun game to find a way to sneak his avatar back into the Autobot base.

Of course not everything was fun and games for the chaos god, though he greatly enjoyed messing with the Autobots. The Decepticons were a real threat, one that loomed over the children every time they left base. As such Chitters followed the children whenever they left and proved to be far more dangerous than anything else out there once the squirrel got on a Decepticon. Unicron would not tolerate anyone touching HIS children, especially not a disgusting spawn of Primus.

Vehicons that got too close found a rapid squirrel in their joints, tearing away at cables and wiring while somehow managing to not be squished as the Cybertronian flailed. Starscream was met with a rapid squirrel to the windshield once when he attempted to bomb Bulkhead, and simultaneously the children. The seeker ended up crashing into a wall and very nearly being blown to bits. Knockout got scratched one time by Chitters and swore off touching the children ever again. Soundwave straight up avoided the squirrel and didn't bother with the human children upon seeing what Chitters could do. Breakdown once tried to squish the squirrel, but no matter how many times he attempted to, Chitters got back up and tried to maul him. Megatron very nearly got his optics destroyed once when he got too close to the children and has since put out a kill on sight order for the rapid avatar of Unicron (not that any heed it).

Seeing all this the team were suspicious as pit in regards to the squirrel. Ratchet tried to drop a weight on the squirrel only for it to bounce off harmlessly, earning awed and shocked expressions from the medic. Bulkhead and Wheeljack attempted to blast Chitters with a flamethrower only for the squirrel to brush it off and continue onward and chase the wrecker duo who screamed like human girls. Bumblebee made his own attempts to murder the avatar through various means ranging from but not limited to sniping, acid, drowning, crushing, and even suffocation. But nothing ever worked and in the end after months of enduring Chitters, Optimus knelt before the squirrel, glared at it, and ordered Unicron to get the hell out of his base until he behaved.

The chaos god obliged, not even hesitating after he very nearly sent the Prime into a rage when he touched his datapads. A few days later he returned and nestled in Rafael's hair again.

Optimus knew that Chitters was an avatar and the rest of the team sensed something else was off, but they never commented and focused their efforts on what needed to be done. They only really attempted to kill Chitters when they devised a new potential method of extermination. At which point they would try it out on Chitters just to see if it would work or not (which it never did).

#maccadam #transformers #transformers prime #team prime #unicron #tfp kids #unicron is a dad and he is fine with that #unicron is a dad au #he can and will screw the team over when he feels like it #but he also knows when the hell to stop #casing point optimus's stuff #chitters probably steals crap from the nemesis when he can sneak on to the vessel with a vehicon #imagine megatron wakes up in the dead of night after nearly killing the kids just to see a squirrel glaring down at him #he would be fragging terrified to not be able to find the thing later

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