#Okay I know the first set of verses is a little rocky | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trulyhblue · 11 months ago

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Carded

Alessia Russo x Aussie! Arsenal! Reader

Warnings: Little bit of angst, fluff, coarse language, suggestive if you squint.

Masterlist

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Alessia were a bit like Katie in the sense of your aggression — or, rather 'passion' as you put it gently — on the field.

Arsenal had a rocky start to the season, with a loss against Liverpool to being dubbed as 'second-halfsenal', as your fans and rivals alike found the comedy in your troubles. There was no technical malice behind the name, the girls would joke about it ever so often during training, but that didn't stop the hidden linger of doubt among the team. As the season proceeded, with the crucial derbies of both Chelsea and Tottenham, you started to notice how it was having a negative effect on your girlfriend.

You grew up in Melbourne, Australia, playing for your local club before being scouted by recruits when you were in High School. You joined Melbourne Victory at Seventeen, playing alongside your future Matildas teammates, Kyra and Courtney. The three of you went to school together, before graduating and parting ways. While they moved to the Sweden league, you chose to head to Bayern Munich, where you spent four years strengthening your skills and gaining wider international attention.

The move was incredibly difficult. You did not understand a word of German walking into your first day, and still struggle to communicate in the foreign language. It definitely helped when Lioness player, Georgia Stanway transferred from Manchester City, and you ended up spending a lot of time with the English girl.

Due to this connection, you had met the other Lionesses by association, one girl sticking out to you specifically.

You had properly met Alessia in a friendly match against your two National teams. It hadn't taken long for you to realise your feelings for each other, but the timing never seemed right. She was in Manchester, playing for United, and you were in Germany, both consistent in your hard work for your respective teams.

You both were called up for the World Cup squad, you playing as a regular starter in the Midfield. From your early career, you always had a deep-rooted chemistry with Kyra and Courtney, so the opportunities the three of you created set the scene for your forwards up front. It was heartbreaking losing to England in the Semi-finals, especially in a home World Cup. You remember how Georgia sat with you after the game, waiting until she knew you were okay before she went off to celebrate.

You reciprocated the kindness by watching the final, feeling upset for the Lionesses when the score did not turn out their way. The two of you wondered what the next step was for you.

You had trouble mulling over the end of your contract, knowing Georgia had just renewed hers. After the World Cup, the recognition of the public had a great turnout, and your agent was met with many expressions of interest.

When Arsenal's name popped up on that list, you knew it was a no-brainer.

You and Alessia had both transferred in the same week, Kyra a few weeks later. The blonde and you moved in together, having both no place to live and hit it off from there. Now, a few months in, you've never been happier.

"Alright girls, we can do this." You heard Kim shout from beside you. Alessia was holding your waist, fiddling with the hem of your shorts as the team huddled around each other.

"Go out and set the scene. First tackles, first corners, everything, alright?"

You were versing Chelsea, the London Derby, in a sold-out Emirates, and you could feel the nerves radiating off Kyra from in front of you. Kim was the Captain today, her Scottish accent shouting as both the starting eleven and subs hugged one another. The lead-up to this game was beyond stressful, the pressure of starting in such a critical game building on Alessia and you over the past few days. The whole ordeal was daunting, having not ever played in a derby of this significance before.

"London is Red, girls, let's go!" Katie shouted, earning the huddle to disperse as everyone took their starting positions.

You could feel the sweat compile over the creases in your hands, wiping them twice over before jogging to your place on the wing. You found yourself looking out to the crowd, waving at the group of fans chanting your name. Erin Cuthbert was quick to join your side, standing close by as the cheers grew louder in anticipation.

Alessia was upfront, watching you with adoring eyes. You offered her a tight-lipped smile, pursing your lips and blushing when she sent a toothy grin and thumbs up your way. However; the moment was short-lived as the referee was quick to blow her whistle, commencing the game.

It was apparent that Chelsea was not expecting the energy Arsenal brought to the game. Errors and miscalculated passes were being carried out left and right, the chemistry between both sides slipping beneath the heightening apprehension.

“I'm here!” You called, speeding along the wing as Katie hesitated on the other side of the pitch. The Chelsea girls had left your front wing open, crowding in the midfield, evidently oblivious to the mistake they’d produced. You heard Emma Hayes yelling to cover your end, but Katie had already seen you, crossing the ball to your end. Cuthbert was on your tail, trying hard to stub your sprint in an attempt to stuff you up.

Victoria was to your right, onside yet swarmed with about three defenders. Beth was not far behind; Chelsea defenders were swarming the box in a desperate endeavour to clear Arsenal’s attempt.

You had no other choice but to nimble the ball through Fleming’s legs and towards Vic, who helplessly maneuvered the ball through the maze of defenders before passing to Mead. Cuthbert had put her hands behind her back, using her body to shield Beth’s fake attempt at the goal. You watched with your breath hitched as Beth powered the ball to the goal, observing the swift motion of the back of the neck.

Alessia was the first to wrap your arms around you, holding you up, carrying you over to where Katie was gripping Beth for dear life.

The rest of your team celebrated around you, screaming among the thousands of people in the crowds, smiles etched on all your faces.

“You’re doing so well.” Less yelled, hoping you’d hear her praise over the booming echo of cheers circling the Emirates. She knew you heard her from the blush that spread your cheeks, making your already flushed face all the more flustered. Your girlfriend wrapped her hands around you, swaying you from side to side one more time before you patted her back and let go.

Her eyes watched your figure jog back to your spot near Cuthbert, who pushed her way into your shoulder before the whistle for the restart blew. You tried your best to ignore her antics, using your legs to propel you towards the ball.

Turns out, Chelsea didn't like what you just did.

Erin followed you up and down the pitch, tugging your shirt everywhere she went. Whenever you tried to run forward and make a chance for your team, the Scottish woman would yank you back, locking her arm around your body, keeping you glued to the sideline.

Chelsea evened the score only a couple of minutes later. The sweat dripping down your forehead was enough to tell anyone how hard you were trying. Erin wasn't the only one giving you grief; Fleming was always a few metres away, darting through the midfield easily without you to worry about.

You were finally given the ball from a cross from Victoria, who mustn't have realised how cornered you were. You hadn't left the sideline in twenty minutes now. Fleming was now to your left, running up against you with Erin’s arm holding your waist. You struggled to keep the ball at your feet, the crowd watching in delight as the three of you battled it out alone.

You had managed to dart the ball between Jessie’s legs, causing an audible reaction from the fans, but it seemed that your face was too preoccupied with meeting the grass to soak up any type of honour you were receiving.

You felt the ground against your cheek, your body falling from stubs to the foot. You groaned at the instant pain up your leg, causing you to hold your shoe and roll onto your back. The adrenaline from the game made the pang bearable, but you knew the tackle was far from clean way before the whistle had blown.

“Oh, get up. What a fucking baby.” You heard Erin say, her Scottish accent full of malice.

“I didn't know Chelsea hired my Nephew.” An Irish accent quipped nearby. “Cause all he does is throw a tantrum when he doesn't get what he wants.”

“It was clean.”

“Oh, fuck off, you slimy t—”

You didn't get to hear the rest of their dispute, too busy nursing your foot with your hands. Steph had broken the two up, ordering Katie to run back to the other side. Sam Kerr was also around, kneeling beside you amidst the strain.

“You ‘right, mate?” Your Aussie Teammate helped you up, holding out her hands and rubbing your back as you regained balance. The Skipper had been your mentor since you joined the Tillies. The older woman was an idol of yours, and you looked up to her despite the few years between you.

However, you couldn't respond to Sam in time, for she was pushed away harshly by a certain blonde, her blue eyes reeling with anger at the sight of the tackle you endured.

“Stay away from her, Kerr.” She snarled, using her arm to support your weight onto one foot. You put your hand on her chest, shooting a silent apology to Sam, who shrugged nonchalantly before sauntering off.

“Y/N, are you alright?” The referee asked the yellow card still in her hand. You knew you had the power to play it over the top, but this game was everything to you. You didn't want to be subbed off any time soon.

But your girlfriend wasn't having any of it.

“She,” Less pointed to Erin, who was standing by a regretful Fleming. “Needs to be sent off for that. She's been harassing Y/N all game. It was obviously on purpose. Did you see it? It was stubs to the—”

“Lessi, stop, it's alright. I'm fine.” You swapped glances from your girlfriend to the Ref, who was still looking at you for reassurance in regard to your physical wellness. “I’m fine.” You repeated, and the whistle was quickly blown for a free kick, and a yellow toward Cuthbert.

Alessia looked down at you cautiously, eyeing your leg and the slight weariness in your step. “Are you sure?” She asked.

When you nodded, she jogged over to her position once more, sighing at your stubbornness as you prepared for your kick.

Ilestedt’s goal only a few minutes later sent all of the girls into a frenzy. You sprinted over to the Swedish player, jumping onto her back and kissing her head, laughing as you felt the rest of your team surround you in hugs and celebrations. The screams and cheers in the stands were phenomenal. No one expected the Reds to be beating the Blues so early into the game.

Erin was hot on your tail when Caitlin punted the ball towards you. You made the sprint down the line, your Aussie teammates Steph and Caitlin both yelling out for a pass. You were about to boot it behind you, where Steph was waiting for the assist when you felt your legs give out for the second time that game. The grass met your face, the power of the fall leaving you in shambles, the ball long forgotten by the time your hand shot up to the blood running down your nose.

Steph was by your side, forgetting all about the game still in play. Alessia had gained possession of the ball, holding it in her hands by the time you had sat up, the whistling blowing when the Ref noticed the amount of red spilling down your shirt.

“Move your hand.” Steph uttered, holding your face and using her own shirt to hold your nose. “It’s not broken.” You did as you were told, your nose warm at the contact of the ground, only slightly sore. She looked up to Kim, who you knew was fuming underneath her worried gaze.

“I don't want to be subbed off.” You said, and you saw Kim nod, agreeing before storming up to the Referee, who was talking sternly to Erin.

Beside her was Alessia, with her arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed into a furious knot, you watching in horror as a yellow card was shown her way. Katie had made it just in time to take her away, gripping the girl’s shoulders and guiding her towards you.

The medics had come on to see to your nose whilst handing you another shirt to change into. They assessed the blood, which was slowly halting, and declared that you had just knocked it. You told them you didn't want to go off, and with a nod from Katie and approval from the Referee, you stood off the field patiently before you were allowed back on.

During those painstaking moments, you pondered on what Alessia had said that made her get the yellow. You knew Erin was already on thin ice, and in yesterday’s training, Jonas had said that if given the chance, Alessia was to take the penalties. You knew the English girl. She was never much of a violent person on the field, choosing to stay calm and collected rather than angsty and irate when something didn't go her way.

But in games like this, where everything was on the line, it was hard to deny the apparent tension behind her actions. When it came to you, she’d sacrifice everything. For you, she’d take a million yellows if it meant sticking up for you.

You had sprinted up near Fleming when the girls ran towards your goal. The stadium stood in anticipation, the adrenaline of Arsenal’s streak pumping through their cheers. Alessia found the ball under her feet, her shot hitting the back of the net with a swish. You couldn't hear anyone but yourself, the pain and exhaustion from the half leaving your body the very moment you wrapped your legs around Less’s waist.

The girl held you up with her hands, holding under your thighs, squishing the skin just under your arse before putting you down. You laughed at her cheeky grin, relishing the private moment between the two of you before the rest of the girls stampede their way around you.

“LESSI RUSSO!” Beth screamed, hugging the two of you as she jumped in excitement. Arsenal were beating Chelsea — the top of the ladder — three-one going into the second half. If they scored once more, it’d be the Blue’s worst defeat in five years.

The thought was the utmost motivation.

You would be lying if you said you weren't surprised to find yourself walking back on in the second half. Your nose had stopped bleeding during half-time, but the ache was still attending when you made your way to the wing.

Just before you went out, you felt familiar hands grip your waist, pushing you against the wall of your cubby. You saw Alessia’s glare eye your kit and the way she licked her lips at the sight of your flushed countenance. Her starved eyes roamed your face. Your lips met hers in a hungry kiss, knowing the rest of the girls were in their own world as they prepared for what was to come.

“You’re playing really good.” You said, holding her biceps, your finger drawing circles against her skin.

Alessia hummed, meeting your lips again, nipping your bottom lip before pulling away. “So are you, baby. ‘Making me so proud, you are.”

The compliment went straight through you. Her eyes continued to linger on you as you walked back out onto the pitch. You swallowed any pre-existing desire you had for the girl as Jessie Fleming walked by your side, offering you a curt, determined smile, then going stone-faced.

The rivalry in the second half displayed by both sides was nothing in comparison to the anger radiating in the last forty-five minutes of the London Derby.

Katie and Caitlin both got cards in two minutes of each other. Lauren James, Chelsea forward, fifteen minutes later. Illegal tackles were thrown left and right, pushing, shoving, ploughing everywhere you looked.

Emma Hayes must've thought Erin would've been sent off if been marking you for another second. Jessie was a much cleaner opponent, but as the time ticked over, the end of the match and the taste of victory near, the Canadian found haste in her decisions, making a rather late decision in tackling you near the sideline.

“Fuck, sorry.” She spoke, and while remorseful, she seemed too engulfed in the loss to speak much truth. She took her yellow graciously but made no attempt to reconcile with you. She walked over to Sam, who gave her a scornful glare, making the younger girl cower. You took your time getting up off the grass, stretching out the tension in your hamstrings before straightening back onto your feet.

On her way over to you, Alessia shot the dirtiest glare she could muster towards Fleming, not realising that many fans would catch the interaction on their phones. She made her way over to you, kissing the top of your forehead, making no endeavour to hide her public affection towards you.

Your relationship with Alessia was extremely private. You didn't want the public to know every detail of each other, and how you lived day to day in each other’s company, but that didn't mean you didn't like to tease your relationship over social media every once and a while. The Arsenal girls were all for a photo dump on Instagram, and many of the fans had caught onto your close proximity in some of the photos.

One of them in particular caused the rumours of your relationship to form. It was in Katie’s dump, a couple of weeks after your move to Arsenal. A group of girls were all sitting together in a booth, somewhere in a random London pub, but there wasn't enough room, leaving you to sit on Alessia’s lap when the photo was taken. From there, everyone assumed the two of you were dating, and while neither of you confirmed anything, it wasn't a secret you were trying hard to keep.

The game proceeded and not long after, an easy penalty was given to your side after a Chelsea defensive miscommunication. It was Alessia who took it, and the crowd made deafening sounds of joy as the Reds crowded around each other in celebration.

You were beating Chelsea 4-1.

The feeling was euphoric. Nothing could beat the sour, everlasting annoyance planted on Cuthbert’s face. Nothing could take you away from the overwhelming happiness that overtook your body when the full-time whistle blew, leaving Arsenal in glee at the massive takedown on the reigning top-of-the-ladder.

Alessia was up against you the moment you met each other’s glance. She pulled you off the ground, spinning you around in circles, making you squirm and squeal as she tickled your sides.

“You did so well, baby.” She sounded, her breath tickling your ear. You shivered, trying hard to hold in your yearning. Alessia knew how to rile you up, hands coming up to glue to your shoulders, massaging the knots that had formed from the tiresome run you just had. You groaned at the relief. Alessia smirked at the whines coming from your mouth.

“All for me, baby?”

You hid your face in her chest at that, face red at her undistinguished connotations. She laughed, holding your chin, placing a quick peck on the side of your lips, pulling you back into her afterwards.

You waited until she was soaking up the silence, a small smile decorating your sweaty face.

“Did it all for you, Lessi.”

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delimeful · 3 years ago

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(don’t) take this the wrong way (7) (END)

final chapter of dtttww :) i had a lot of fun with this verse so i may take requests set in it in the future, and this might receive some more copy editing later, but for now this is the epilogue!

warnings: mild injury, mild hypnosis, for once no miscommunication :)

[Several months later…]

Sunlight trickled down through the water in wavy bands, illuminating the shallows and growing fainter and fainter as the distance from the surface increased.

Virgil didn’t spend much time in the shallows, too wary of being without escape, being made vulnerable to human vessels or poachers. Despite his dark and gloomy aesthetic, he couldn’t go too far into the depths either, simply because his fragile fish bones weren't built for it. His eyes weren’t built for it either, and down there where anything could be lurking, he would need more than speed to avoid danger.

So, on an average, sunny day like this, he could be found miles offshore, in waters that were easily too deep for unsuited humans to reach, but still well-illuminated by the light above.

There were a few old wrecks scattered about the ocean floor here, and though they’d probably been stripped by a pod in the past, he figured he’d go through them and check for anything that was left behind. Things that weren’t useful to a pod could certainly be things that were useful to him, after all.

He’d been poking through the undercarriage of one of the larger ships for an hour or two, relaxed as he ever got. He could take his time. The only creatures around to judge him were the shoals of fish and layers of barnacles built up amidst the metal, wood, and rust.

Actually… Virgil paused in his inspection of an old cutlery set to glance around.

What had happened to the fish?

Through a hole in the ship’s hull, he watched as a broad shadow passed over the ground and ships alike, large enough to belong to a whale.

There hadn’t been a single shred of whalesong above.

Virgil edged further back from the hole, eyeing the outside warily as the shadow receded, leaving behind only wavering sunlight on sand as though it had never been there at all.

There was nothing here that was worth sticking around.

He carefully made his way back to one of the other exits, in the opposite direction of where he’d seen the shadow head, the strokes of his fin cutting through the water with barely a whisper. The porthole was easily wide enough for him, and the ocean stretched out blue and vast before him, a promise of safety if he just moved fast enough.

A moment’s pause, to make sure he didn’t hear or see anything out of place, and then he was out, flitting from rock outcropping to bone reef and scanning the seas above. Not for the first time, he wished his scales were a little less distinctive in the day.

Behind him, an ominous creak.

He froze, and watched with mounting apprehension as a shadow spilled over him, looming closer and darker than before. The silhouette of an arm stretched out, heading towards him…

“Virgil, you must help,” a huge voice pleaded, “I’ve been had.”

He twisted around just in time to see a huge arm flop down onto the floor next to him, kicking up a cloud of sand and panicked burrower fish in the process.

It was wrapped in heavy wire netting from fingertips to forearm, and behind it, a giant mer was pouting at him with the best seal pup eyes he could manage, which, considering who his best friend was, were fairly potent.

Roman was huge, and he was a shark, with teeth and claws designed to shred and tear, and hands that could enclose him entirely-- but his elbows were braced against the ground with delicate balance so he wouldn’t crush anything, and he’d never grabbed for Virgil past that first disastrous encounter, and even now, his brow was furrowing with worry.

“Pufferfish status?” he asked, voice lowered from the dramatic plea of before.

Virgil’s mouth pulled up at the corners without his permission.

Roman was huge, yes, but he was also theatrical and eager and witty, full of sharp return quips for every barb Virgil had to offer.

He could hurt him, but he wouldn’t. Virgil believed that much.

“Prickly for a second, but I’m smooth now,” he answered, shrugging away the last of the tension. “Try not to sneak up on me without a warning click?”

“You have my word,” Roman replied, and if someone had told him months ago that he’d dare to ask anything of a giant mer, he’d have laughed in their faces. Now, Virgil knew that just like all the other requests, Roman would do his best to heed it.

“But really, my fingers are starting to feel numb. Help?” he entreated with a tilt of his head, shifting his net-wrapped hand a little closer.

Virgil rolled his eyes, but his smile didn’t go away, though it tilted more towards amused now. He darted forward, twisting in a spiral around Roman’s hand to try and see the extent of the damage.

“How’d you even manage this? At least I had the excuse of being caught up in a storm,” he snarked, picking at a loose section with his claws. Roman’s fingers twitched a little, and he shot him an apologetic glance.

“I was… perhaps… trying to get a glimpse of those sailors that Logan mentioned patrolled the coast?” Roman offered, more than a little sheepish.

Virgil’s gaze turned sharp in a heartbeat. “Did they spot you?”

Logan had warned both Patton and Roman several times that not many humans would take as kindly to their long-term existence near human settlements as Logan himself had.

“No!” Roman assured, “I was very stealthy, truly, I was just… so focused on being stealthy that I missed the other vessel and the nets it had dragging along behind it. It could have happened to anyone!”

“I seriously doubt that,” Virgil replied dryly. He’d snapped a few of the looser wires with his teeth, but already his jaw was beginning to ache with the strain. “Well, you get to explain this to Specs, ‘cause we’re going to need his expertise in detangling for this one.”

Roman groaned in answer, dropping his head to plonk against the ground.

---

Logan carefully set one foot in front of the other, all of his focus on the thin strip of rock below him.

If he switched his gaze to even a few inches to either side, he’d be faced with the sight of a vertigo-inducing drop to the waves below, one that would have all but the most experienced tightrope walkers dizzy with panic.

His gaze didn’t move, though, unerringly focused on the ground beneath him, and on his own body. There was no need to look at anything but the ledge, a soft presence confirmed in the back of his mind, because he wasn’t going to fall.

Another part of him was skeptical, seeing as he wasn’t known for a lack of clumsiness by most. There was just so much to get distracted by, and it was so easy to look away and miss a curb or accidentally trip over his own feet--

But not now. Now, he was focused on just this one task, a gentle voice dragging his attention back whenever it began to stray. He was hyper aware of where each of his limbs were and where he needed to put them to continue forward, step by careful step.

Only a little farther…

“Logan!”

The harsh call snapped him right out of the trance, and he was abruptly made very aware of both the distance he could fall and the effects that sudden instinctual terror had on his sense of balance.

“Newton’s fucking Cradle,” he swore, and then wobbled again, precariously close to falling over.

There was the sound of water crashing against rock, and in the next moment, two giant hands had curled up on either side of him like the shells of an oyster. They provided him some much needed stability to lean his weight against, and he struggled to steady his breathing as relief swept through him.

“It’s okay, Virgil, I won’t let him fall! No cliffs, ands, or buts about it,” Patton’s voice was muffled, but not enough to miss the pun.

Logan sighed loudly, but he also shifted to let his full weight rest against the curl of Patton’s left palm, tapping twice to let him know it was alright for him to move.

His stomach still swooped slightly as Patton slowly shifted his hands away from the thin rock ledge, but there were some things that one had to adapt to when living with two very affectionate, grabby sea giants, and being toted around was one of those things.

Before long, he was level with the flattest segment of rock that made up their meeting place, which could be called an island if one was feeling gracious, but was really more of a collection of rocky spires and bridges that stuck out of the ocean.

Logan was barely able to sit up before Virgil pulled himself up at the edge of Patton’s palm, expression thunderous but his hands gentle as he carefully checked him over for scrapes or injuries.

“Nearly gave me a heart attack,” he grumbled, a phrase that he used much more frequently around Logan for some reason. Logan had already been reassured that it was an exaggeration and Virgil had no heart problems he knew of, so instead of worrying, he bore his friend’s fussing with good grace. “Did we or did we not agree that you need a spotter if you want to play around with bullshit sirensong magic?”

The mer paused. “No offense, Pat.”

“None taken!” Patton replied from where he had sunk further into the water to put himself closer to eye-level.

“I figured you would be along shortly,” Logan defended, and then perked up at the reminder of his most recent experiment. “Besides, one of the things tested in this trial was if the siren song could overshadow significant fear or even terror, and I wouldn’t have been nearly as afraid if you’d been there with me.”

“Aw,” Roman cooed, curling his tail up and leaning against one of the larger rock outcroppings, his posture slightly off.

Virgil dragged a hand over his face with a sigh, and then flapped a ‘go on’ gesture at Logan, distracting him. “So, what’d you figure out this time?”

Logan needed no further encouragement.

“Even the lightest application of a siren’s song can overwhelm other emotions,” he started, recalling the utter honed focus he had experienced. “While in the past I’ve felt distant or removed from my body while under its effects, this time I had Patton focus on requesting a very specific task, and due to the intense concentration it took, I was very present in the moment while fulfilling that task.”

“You didn’t snap out of it until I called for you,” Virgil interjected, more curious than wary. “Was it harder than normal to use the grounding tactics?”

One of the first things Logan had investigated was what it took for him to resist and even break free from Patton’s song, a task that Virgil had demanded in order to let him run any experiments with the siren’s magic. Back then, Virgil hadn’t expected Patton to agree, and he’d outright sulked for weeks to cover up the nerves he felt whenever the siren thralled Logan.

“It was,” Logan said, his excitement growing as he considered the new information. “Without significant outside stimulus, all of my attention was focused on the task, and so I couldn’t pull away mentally to do my normal grounding techniques!”

“I’ve never heard someone so excited about being hypnotized better,” Roman commented wryly.

“He should get a hypnoprize,” Patton added, and Virgil grinned, because he was a traitor who enabled Patton’s wordplay habits.

“Is there an award for smart people doing dumb things?” Virgil mused teasingly. “Logan could be voted ‘most likely to throw himself into danger in the pursuit of knowledge.’”

“That’s why he has us, Finding Emo,” Roman countered, gesturing extravagantly with one hand. “We would never abandon him to the cruel clutches of his own nerdiness.”

Logan couldn’t help but feel a thrill of pride at the casual way that Virgil ducked beneath one of Roman’s sweeping gestures, no trace of the blatant fear or suspicion that had been present as recently as a month ago.

They’d really come a long way from the misunderstandings of that first encounter, all of them.

A glint of light at the edge of the shark mer’s submerged forearm caught Logan’s eye, and he frowned. “Roman, what’s happened to your arm?”

Roman’s prideful grin dropped into sheepishness immediately. “Well, about that…”

“Princey here was abandoned to the cruel clutches of his own reckless dumbassery,” Virgil informed him, ignoring Roman’s trill of offense to drift back and shove at the hand in question until Roman finally lifted it, displaying the impressive collection of netting that he’d managed to get tangled in.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Patton clucked sympathetically, and Roman soaked in the attention like a very dramatic sponge. Virgil rolled his eyes even as he sawed at a few of the looser wires, and Logan sighed in fond exasperation as he reached for his pocket knife.

Perhaps some things would never change.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides g/t #mermaid au #ts virgil #ts roman #ts logan #ts patton #dtttww #dont take this the wrong way #my writing #writing #mermaid #giant mermaid

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theconstantsidekick · 3 years ago

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The Sound of Silence and Static (5) | b.b

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings), Past!Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, Sam Wilson x OFC Pia “Rocky” Rockwell

Genre: Angst, Mystery, Crime

Summary: Y/n meets back up with her boys but the ground between her and Sam is still pretty damn shaky. It's a brutal back and forth. What else did you expect?

(Set after the events of The Falcon, The Winter Soldier and Static, Static: Get, Set, Glitch, and Are You Now Or Have You Ever Been? While this series can be read as a stand-alone story, it would make a lot more sense if you read those beforehand. And you know? They’re fun.)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Past Trauma, Canon Typical Violence, Torture

a/n: read Age of Ultron (ft. Static) to get a better backstory. Highly recommended. Gives context to her powers, but not so necessary. @freeflyingphoenix is half the reason this thing is a real possibility.

sidenote: Please, please, please read Are You Now Or Have You Ever Been? cause it ties in directly with this story.

“Howdy boys! Why the long faces?”

“Y/n?!” Steve exclaims, rushing over to the door to get to her.

Bucky reaches her first, placing an arm around her waist, her free arm comes to rest around his shoulder. He shoulders her weight happily and effortlessly.

“What the hell is going on?” Sam scolds, rushing out of the kitchen.

Steve comes to kneel in front of her and Bucky as they sit down on the couch.

“Sweetheart, you okay?” Bucky asks, hesitant and scared. He’s terrified of the answer because he already knows what it is.

Before she can answer though—

“She’s got two broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and second-degree burns on her side. The rest I’ve taken care of—which reminds me, hi guys! I’m here too,” Harley deadpans, having moved away to close the door to Joaquin’s small apartment, now that he didn’t have to hold up a hobbling Y/n anymore.

Burns??

"What happened, sweetheart?" He tries to make his voice as soft as he can, while Steve, having assessed her wounds, makes his way to the kitchen.

Now, he knows Y/n. He knows her far too well at this point, and he knows that she'll pretend to be fine. She'll try, at least, to seem all put together and unhurt. But moments like these bring her back—back to HYDRA, back to having to feel afraid and scared of her life every waking hour. He knows her well enough to know that she’s always been unafraid of everything because she believes that she’s lived through the worst possible hell there could ever be. It makes her feel invincible… until she stumbles upon moments like this.

Scooting closer to him, “Stuff,” she tells him dismissively.

“Y/n—”

“Jamie.”

He already knows the battle is lost so he decides to settle for comforting her instead. But then—

“Holy shit!” suddenly a voice chimes in. “I was peeing for like, 40 seconds, tops,” Joaquin remarks, walking into the living room to stand behind Harley who's sitting on the edge of a chair he’s pulled. “What happened?”

“Stuff,” she reiterates, louder this time.

“Joaquin, could you please—” Bucky’s cut off by the man himself.

“First aid kit,” Joaquin nods, already ready with the answer. “On it.” He rushes out of the living room, walking past a fidgety Steve who comes back and hands her a glass of water with a couple painkillers.

Swallowing the pills, and chugging down the water, “I’m sorry about leaving like that,” she mumbles into Bucky's chest as he wraps her close.

Dropping a kiss on her head he counters, “You have nothing to apologize for, baby.”

“I left you half naked, bub,” she throws back.

It makes him chuckle a little. “I think I’ll let it slide, on the account of you being arrested and whatnot,” he tells her with a soft smile, caressing her cheek.

She mirrors his smile and finally, for the first time in the last 30 odd hours, Bucky feels like he can finally breathe again. He’d been missing his moon, something awful. Moonless skies is something Bucky hasn’t had to face in a good long while, and now that he has her back—he has the shiny glittery light of the moon beaming at him—even a little—he can finally breathe again. His moon and her faint moonlight is outshining the afternoon sunlight that’s creeping in through the windows of Joaquin’s apartment, and he can finally breathe again.

But the moment is cut painfully short as—

“Y/n,” Sam calls out as Joaquin comes back into the room with a small box of medicines, bandages, burnall and such. “What happened?”

She looks up at him then, where he stands in front of her, towering, exuding command. He looks unforgiving, Bucky thinks and part of him burns at the realizing it might be because that’s how he feels.

“I broke out of the Raft,” she tells him plainly as Joaquin comes and settles on her feet, bandages in hand.

“Do I look like I’m in the mood for your shit?” Sam reprimands, his voice raising, arms flailing. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Where else was I supposed to go after I broke out of a high security prison?” Y/n throws back, as Joaquin asks her to brace herself for what’s about to come. She nods dismissively without thought.

“Y/n—” Sam’s losing his patience, Bucky can see it. But before he can finish—

“Cocksucker!” She yells out in agony.

“Sorry,” Joaquin apologizes, wincing himself as he assesses the shoulder that he just repositioned back into its place.

Bucky’s jaw must be clenched too hard for comfort because a moment later he feels a soft hand caress his cheek.

“I’m okay, baby,” she whispers to him. “It’s okay.”

Wow, what kind of a shit boyfriend needs to be consoled by his injured girlfriend?

Great job, Barnes. Seems like that ‘Bucky Barnes is Sergeant Asshole’ club is never going to run out of material.

“If you were gonna break out anyway, then why feed that bullshit to Murdock about wanting a fair trial?” Sam snides. There’s enough venom in his words that even Steve turns, from where he’s leaning with folded arms on the doorframe to the bedroom, to stare at the Captain.

“Sam—” Steve begins but Y/n cuts him off.

“Because I did!” She states with ferocity, the movement of which makes her wince. Hissing as Joaquin continues cleaning the blood off her gashes, “An impartial judge, a skillfully selected jury and I would have won. I would have wiped the floor with the prosecution,” she proclaims with enough faith that a part of Bucky wishes he got to witness her in action. “So would have Matt,” she adds.

“Then why did you break out?” Sam yells.

“Because they would’ve killed me if I didn’t!”

The statement gives everyone pause.

Joaquin’s hand stun, Steve stands up straighter, Sam stops pacing and Bucky can notice Harley’s face shift from feigning disinterest to genuine worry.

Bucky himself? Yeah, he’s kinda losing his shit right now.

His head is running a mile a minute and he’s making a list of people he wants to… give a stern talking to. The top of the list would’ve been Ross but seeing as he isn’t, you know, alive to face Bucky’s wrath, he settles instead on someone far more accessible… like his best friend who is screaming at his girlfriend right now.

“Look, Y/n, I’m getting tired of this shit, okay? Please. Just this once, can we be serious for one damn second?” Sam asks, sounding genuinely frustrated, one hand rubbing down his face while the other rests on his hip. “Can I get one straight answer, that isn’t a lie?”

“I haven’t lied to you, ever!” Y/n defends, her voice rising to match his.

“Seriously?” Sam challenges. “You sure about that?” When all she does is shrug, Sam steps forward, as if stepping up to the said challenge. “What about Whitehall?”

Well, fuck.

It seems to throw Y/n off.

Her hand finds Bucky’s instantly.

“Sweetheart—”

“That was different,” she cuts Bucky off. “I didn’t lie as much as I… changed my mind.”

Bucky feels guilt creeping up on him like a snake slithering onto him, gripping him like a vice.

But Sam—well, Sam just scoffs.

“Of course,” he sneers, shaking his head with disdain clear in every action. “A loophole… I should’ve known. You’re great at those, aren’t you, Atticus Finch?”

Her eyes fall shut for a second as she exhales a shaky breath. “Sam, man,” she’s trying to exude patience, but she’s off her mark by an inch, which is rare for her. “Look, I know you’re pissed at me about the Whitehall thing, and you have every right to be, that’s why I dealt with all your bullshit back at the precinct... but dude,” her mark veers off further still, “I’m serious, right now!” She exclaims.

“And I’m not?!”

This is the moment Bucky realizes something, and by the way that his eyes meet Steve’s instantly, he knows Steve does too.

If the guilt was a snake crawling onto him by slithering over his feet, this realization is a scorpion a second away from stinging his neck. Because fuck him, fuck Steve, and fuck Sam… she doesn’t know.

“So what?” She throws back, scoffing with a humorless and impatient chuckle. “You seriously think that I did it?” Her tone is absolutely rhetorical. It sounds like she thinks Sam believing she murdered Ross to get some sort of twisted revenge is a thought that’s barely crossed her mind. There’s so much faith in those words Bucky thinks he might choke because when she’s met with a pregnant pause as the response from Sam, he can practically hear her heart break.

“You… You think I did it?” She asks again. Except this time, all the conviction of believing otherwise has mostly vanished. All that’s left is a broken whisper and a shaky voice and… fear.

“Didn’t you?” Sam challenges. But Bucky thinks his question lacks the sheer rhetoricity of hers before. Bucky thinks the question might be at least a little genuine.

There’s a shaky exhale, Bucky’s not sure if it’s loud or the room is too silent.

Her eyes fly right to Steve in front of her. Whatever she sees in them must be enough because then she looks at Harley to her left, where he sits.

“What about you, Junior? You think I did it?” She asks, all her ferocity gone and replaced with the grim realization that one of her closest friends in the world thinks she’s a monster.

“I…” Harley sighs, “... don’t know… but—”

“—You don’t care,” she finishes for him, shaking her head. “Cause you’re an idiot,” she adds, eyes shut with a disappointment that Bucky can’t quite place. It lasts only a few seconds because then she’s looking down at Joaquin to her right, who’s crouching in front of her with what Bucky can clearly decipher as a hint of guilt in his eyes. “You… You think I did it, too. Don’t you?” She asks with a melancholy smile on her face. She’s always adored Joaquin.

He pulls his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes falling to the ground for a second before they meet hers again. “You have a track record of losing control when things get personal,” he offers in his way of explanation. He looks like he wishes what he was saying wasn’t what he believed… but it is.

Of the five men in the room, the only people who believe that Y/n didn’t kill Ross are the ones who have been in love with her. Bucky would want her to take that as a testament to how well he and Steve know her. But he knows she’ll take that as proof that she’s just the monster they wanted her to be.

It will break her.

He can already see the cracks beginning to appear as she lets out a broken chuckle.

And then she stands up, cradling her very recently fixed shoulder.

“Sweetheart?” Bucky calls out, but the only answer he gets is her beginning to walk towards the exit. He’s on his feet instantly, “Hey! Hey! Sweetheart?”

She doesn’t stop, moving past the couch, towards the door.

“Y/n! Where you going?” Steve calls out, following her as well.

“Come on, sweetheart just—”

“Y/n—” Joaquin tries too.

“Y/n, you look like shit, you can’t just—” Harley yells out, getting to his feet.

There’s a chaos of words until her steps halt when she hears Sam, call out, “Y/n—”

Turning around to face them, she says, “If I’m right, then there’s a fight around the corner. And I have no clue who it’s going to be against.” She gulps. “I can’t ask you to fight for something you don’t—for someone you don’t believe in.”

There’s silence; it’s heavy, it’s gnawing, it’s painful.

“Y/n,” Sam breaks it, stepping forward, “I want to believe you but you won’t—It’s like you’re trying to give me reasons not to.”

“What are you talking abou—”

He cuts her off, “One question, man. I asked you one question. Where were you the night Ross was murdered?”

Yeah, about that… Bucky would like the answer to that question too. He doesn’t doubt her for a second. She says she didn’t do it, then she didn’t. But it would be very nice to know where she was.

Almost as if she can hear his thoughts, her eyes fly over to his, but they are gone a second later.

“Doesn’t matter,” she tells Sam.

“See! That’s exactly what I am talking about!” Sam exclaims. “All I’m asking is for you to tell me where you were and you won’t even give me that. So,” he exhales exhaustively, “why the hell should I believe you?”

Running her hands through her hair in annoyance, she steps forward too. “Wherever I was, you’re just gonna think I glitched out of there. So, why does it matter?”

“Because it’s something!” Sam shouts back. The outburst makes the silence in the room even heavier than it already was, and fuck if the room wasn’t painfully silent before. Sam takes a moment, clenches his fists. It looks like he’s hoping to squeeze the anger out of himself somehow. “It’s something,” he reiterates, much softer this time. “And I—I’m desperate.” He means it. He really does. Bucky can tell.

Apparently, so can Steve because suddenly—

“Y/n—” Steve begins.

She cuts him off, “Steve.” It’s a warning.

“Y/n.” A plea.

“Steve.” A dismissal.

“Y/n.” An imploration.

“Steve.” A refusal.

“Y/n.” End of the line.

“Steve.” End of the fucking line.

“She was with me,” Steve tells Sam.

“Steven!” A reprimand.

Sam turns to look at Steve, “If she was with you, why wouldn't she just say it?”

Bucky’s question exactly.

And then a horrible, fucking horrible thought crosses everyone’s mind, almost in unison.

“Wait—did you two—?” Sam, Harley, and Joaquin ask simultaneously.

Bucky remains silent.

“What?” Steve asks, confused, but only for a second. “No! No! God, NO!” His arms fly up. “We were at Peggy’s grave. It was the anniversary of her death. We go every year,” he explains in a rush. “It’s ugh… It’s our thing,” he adds, in a smaller voice, sounding somewhat guilty. It’s been that kind of day, Bucky thinks.

“Then why not just say it?” Sam asks, looking at Y/n.

The question finally makes her break the gaze she’d been holding with Bucky.

She turns to Sam, “Because it doesn’t change anything. Because... you still don’t believe me, not really.”

“I’m sorry if I’m having a hard time with your alibi being Steve,” Sam throws back.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve interrupts, giving Sam the disapproving eyebrows that he used to give Bucky whenever he tried to set them both up on a double date. All these years and he’s still intimidated by them

“Look man, no offense, but we all know damn well that you will lie to protect the people you love. And as much as we like pretending like it’s not the case, you still are in love with her.” Sam’s voice has a sense of irritated finality in it. “Who’s to say this isn’t a rehash of what happened with Bucky and Tony's parents?”

Well, fuck, times two.

“He thought Bucky’s life would be in danger,” Y/n tells him through gritted teeth.

“As opposed to now, when your life isn't?” Sam challenges, taking a step forward.

“That was different,” she states, eyes fixed on the ground.

“Was it?” Sam counters.

“Yes, it was,” she says with thundering certainty. Her anger is evident as she adds, “It was different, so don’t you dare make me defend it!”

“Then why not just tell me you were with him when I asked you? Huh?” Sam shouts out, annoyed.

“Like I said, it wouldn’t have changed anything! And it would do more harm than good”

“You having an alibi would be a bad thing? Seriously? Y/n, are you shitting me right now?” Sam chides, at the end of his rope.

Her eyes find Bucky’s again but they are gone a second later, focused back on Sam. But for the life of him, Bucky cannot bring himself to look away.

“You know what? Let me lawyer you for a second, Cap,” she states, her confidence back, hands in her pocket, shoulders pulled back. “Here’s what giving an alibi would do for me; the first thing the prosecution would do is find a gap. And it wouldn’t be that hard. Not hard at all. Because with me, it wouldn’t matter if it were an hour or 5 fucking minutes. All they’d need is a gap, which they would find, without much issue. It’s smooth fucking sailing from there. Any lawyer worth their salt would call to the stand, Bruce Banner, the only man that has ever even come close to understanding my powers. They’d ask him, under oath, if it would be possible for me to glitch from Peggy’s grave to Ross’s place in those 5 fucking minutes and Bruce would have to say yes. Because I can. Now, obviously, Matt and I would cross-examine him, ask him how exhausted I would be after traveling that long a distance. Bruce would tell them, I’d barely be able to stand up straight let alone assassinate someone. But it would be fucking futile because the prosecution would remind the Judge and the jury that Ross wasn’t assassinated with a glowing pink sword that manifests out of my arm, no. He was killed by a gunshot wound to his noggin, a sloppy one at that. And with that, I’m toast. No one in that courtroom would believe a word I said after that.” She tsks. “Was that more harm or more good?”

Everyone looks like they don’t know a single word in the English language.

That is until—

“But that isn’t why you didn’t tell him,” Bucky chimes in, challenge in his eyes.

All of her confidence fades again. “Sunshine—”

“We’ll do this later.” It’s a promise. He motions her towards himself, “Right now, I’m gonna fix you up,” he sits down on the table in front of the couch, opening up the first aid kit again, “...while you tell us what happened.” He points to the spot on the couch opposite him.

Passing Harley and Joaquin on the way, she sits down.

“Zemo happened,” she states, lifting her shirt to reveal her burns.

Bucky’s gonna squeeze that Baron’s head like a fucking balloon.

“WHAT?” Joaquin exclaims. “He got out?”

“Nope,” she replies, wincing a bit as Bucky begins to clean up her wound with gentle hands. It’s times like these he kind of likes his metal hand. The cold touch of vibranium around the burnt tissue seems to soothe her. Even if it’s a little calm for her, he’ll relish being the one who brings it. “Someone drugged me and I woke up in my cell, dangling upside down from the ceiling while he stood that with his junk in my face.” Her jaw clenches. “I think they let him out.”

“So you’re saying Zemo has control of the Raft?” Steve questions.

“No… I don’t think he does. I don’t think the guards were working for him because he’s the one calling shots. I think he is working for someone who is calling the shots,” she answers.

“Why the fuck would you think that? You’ve seen what Baron Asshole can do. He’s a diabolical son of a bitch,” Harley counters, arms folded in front of him.

“I’m with Harley on this one,” Bucky speaks up, hands still busy. “Zemo’s a dick but he’s a smart dick.”

“I know but—when he realized that I didn’t have the information he wanted, he let me go—”

Steve cuts her off, “He let you go?” Disbelief is clear in his voice. “Not that I’m not happy about it, but… why?”

“Something about owing me. Apparently, Jamie and I have let him live one too many times,” she replies, sounding like she doesn’t really believe it herself.

“Last time I make that mistake again,” Bucky mutters angrily.

Above him, it makes her chuckle, which makes her wince, slightly. “Anyway, um—when he let me go, he couldn’t stop the guards from attacking me.”

“Meaning he’s not the top dog,” Joaquin surmises, throwing himself on the chair to Bucky’s right where Harley was sitting minutes ago.

“You said he wanted information from you, what was it?” Steve asks, hands on his waist, brows furrowed.

“Oh yeah that,” she begins. “What the fuck is Project Extinction?”

The question makes everyone ponder for a second.

“Never heard of it,” Sam answers.

“Hmm,” she hums dismissively. “Well, according to him, that’s what I killed Ross for,” she adds, as Bucky finishes patching her up. “But none of us has even heard of the damn thing—”

“I have,” Harley chimes in, very unexpectedly, making everyone’s head to him.

See, the thing is, Harley Keener is the least likely person in the whole room to have heard of what was most probably a military-grade, off-the-books project. Unlike Sam, Steve, Joaquin, and Bucky, he had no dealings with the government. And even less like Y/n, he doesn't have an underground network of people feeding him information from all over the world. So the fact that the kid is the only one who had heard of it is well… concerning. Hence, pretty understandable when Y/n asks—

“Legally?”

“...no,” Harley replies honestly.

“Great,” she remarks with a dead look in her eyes.

“When I heard about what happened I started looking into Ross for…” He cuts his defense off in the middle.

“For my motive,” she supplies with a knowing smile.

“You gave me a PPK on my birthday this year. Sue me for thinking you’re a little trigger happy,” Harley counters. And though his words are cutting, his tone is the one he uses every day to annoy the fuck out of Y/n.

And it seems to be working right now, cause then she replies with, “One, you’re the one who said you wanted to be like James Bond. And two, don’t tempt me, junior. Just tell us what you know.”

“I found mentions of it in a few of his correspondences. If it’s important enough for Zemo to torture you for it, then there must be more that I overlooked the first time—” he says as he walks over to the table in the corner of the room, next to the window. Looking back at Joaquin he asks, “Can I use your laptop?”

“Will it be legal?” Joaquin asks.

“...no,” Harley replies honestly.

“Then no,” Joaquin declines

“Come on, man!” Harley begs. “This is kinda serious.”

“Yeah, and I’ll get serious jail time for it. My network is not secure enough to dig into the late Secretary of State’s outbox,” Joaquin protests.

“He’s not wrong,” Sam chimes in.

“But we need to find out what Project Extinction is, or we’re flying blind,” Steve argues, stepping up to Sam.

As the four of them bicker back and forth, Bucky’s eyes stay fixed on Y/n, while hers are on her phone that just buzzed.

“Fuck, shit! Guys,” she calls out, pocketing her phone, having read whatever message she just got. "I've gotta get out of here, now. We’ve got incoming in 5.”

How does she always know this shit?

That gets everyone’s attention.

“How do you know that?” Harley asks, voicing Bucky’s thoughts, at the same time, Sam asks, “Where do we go?”

Sam’s question makes Y/n's actions halt.

“We?” She asks, hesitant.

“Yeah, we,” Sam reiterates, his voice soft.

And then she smiles.

Bucky’s heart is a little hurt right now. It’s cracked up from the fact that his girl is hurt, that his girl was tortured, and that his girl lied to him. But that smile, yeah. Bucky’s whipped for that smile. He’ll do absolutely anything for it.

“What about that safehouse you have in Newark?” Steve suggests, addressing Y/n.

“Can’t go there. Rocky knows about it,” she answers as she nods towards the bedroom, silently asking Joaquin to begin packing up the essentials. He obliges.

“Rocky?” Harley asks, confused.

“Rockwell, Pia Rockwell, the agent in charge of her case,” Sam tells him as he catches the duffle bag Joaquin throws at him, setting it on the table.

“More like the agent in charge of Sam’s heart,” Y/n quips, as she grabs a cloth and starts wiping down all the surfaces around her, trying to get rid of as many of her prints as she can. If they find her DNA, Joaquin could claim it to be days old, weeks even. But fresh fingerprints are easier to tell apart from old ones. Clever girl. She throws one at Bucky too, he catches it easily.

“That was—that was bad, never do that again,” Harley says with so much pain, it even makes Sam smile.

“Can we focus on where we’re going?” Steve cuts in, helping Sam fill the duffle bag with weapons Joaquin has hidden around the place.

“What are we doing next? We’ll figure out where to go based on that?” Joaquin offers, shoving some clothes into the bag.

“That’s the best we've got right now.,” Sam remarks. “What do we need to figure out what the hell this Project Extinction is?” He asks, looking at Harley.

Pulling out his phone, Harley begins tapping away. “I need a secure network that I can use to get into databases that I really shouldn’t be into. Or at least a server I can bootleg off of so we don’t get caught,” he tells him. “But my place won’t do. We saw cops heading there when Y/n and I were leaving.”

“We also need to get our hands on the CCTV footage,” she states, discarding the cloth. “Ross called out my name before he got shot.”

“How do you know that?” Sam asks. “I never told you.”

“Zemo,” she answers plainly.

Everyone’s faces morph into grim concern. There’s like a clock ticking over their fucking heads and even though it’s not real, Bucky thinks he can fucking hear it. They need to find a place, and more importantly, they need to find answers. There’s far too many unknown variables currently in this equation and they have no clue how to fucking solve for x.

But then an idea strikes.

To solve for x you start with what you do know.

“Why don’t we just break into Ross’s place?” Bucky suggests, brows cocked.

As he watches Y/n’s eyes glimmer with a hint of mischievous agreement, Sam protests loudly. “Dude! It’s a fucking crime scene. Not a goddamn park. We can’t just walk in.”

“Yes,” Bucky agrees. “...But we know someone who can,” he adds with a smirk.

Find the series masterlist here. Read the previous installment to this story here. Read about what happened with Whitehall here. Find other Static Verse works here.

tag list: @aryksworld @freeflyingphoenix @arikarapli @jakey-stan @justab-eautifulmess @ceo-of-daichi @jn-wolf @asimovethroughthisworld @paintballkid711 @starkleila @heyitsmereading @fairlygothparents @goldenflickerx @sidepartskinnyjeans @mini-kunoichi @third-broparcelicito @siwiecola @haleybutnotthecomet @jaderonan @mvaldez7821

Only tagging my mutuals and starting a new tag list. Dm or send an ask to be added to the tag list.

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queerspacepunk · 3 years ago

Note

Happy Friday! For DADWC, how about “I think I did okay!” “Another building just collapsed.” “Well, it’s the building’s fucking fault not mine!” for M!Lavellan/Bull? :D

happy saturday! this was a fun one! can be read as being in the same verse as hurricane (but stands alone fully dw)

structural integrity | m!lavellan/bull for @dadrunkwriting

"Move, move move!" Krem hollers, as though Bull isn't already fucking working on it, as though he's not the one standing in the door of a collapsing building waiting for him.

"Move yourself," Bull yells over his shoulder as he gets to Lavellan. He doesn't even both with trying to get the guy to standing, just picks the whole damn elf up.

Krem, predictably, doesn't move himself, not until Bull's jogging past with a dazed Inquisitor in his arms.

"Last out," Krem confirms without Bull even needing to ask, "everyone else is clear."

"Bit early for that call," Bull says as the rumbling of the building peaks with another crash and they're chased the rest of the way from the building by a cloud of probably-very-dangerous dust.

The rest of their party is set up a safe enough distance away, Bull's boys setting a perimeter while Grimm runs triage for Stitches. His hands aren't all that full yet -- Krem's right, apparently -- and he hands a wad of gauze to Dalish and clears a space for Lavellan.

Bull sets him down and then sets himself down next to him, knee promptly screaming to life once imminent peril is off the table.

Stitches hands him a poultice from his kit absently as he checks the Inquisitor over. He's not unconscious, just dazed -- concussed maybe?

"He's fine," Stitches says after a moment, before pulling a blue bottle out of his kit, "not usually a fan but I don't think even elves are supposed to be able to burn that much mana that quick."

He hands the lyrium to Bull, "make him drink that, slowly, and get me if he passes out," then he claps Bull on the shoulder and moves on to the next person.

"Kadan," Bull says, rearranging them both so Lavellan's propped up against him and he can start feeding the lyrium to him a few sips at a time, "y'can't keep doing this."

Lavellan blinks up at him, "I-" is all he manages before he starts coughing, and it takes a moment or two, some water, and a good few sips of the lyrium before he can speak properly, but fuck, Bull hadn't even been sure he was listening. He'll take it.

"I thought I did okay," Lavellan manages finally.

"You thought you did- another building collapsed." Bull points out, "the one you were inside of."

"That's the building's fault, not mine," Lavellan protests.

"Yeah, sure, and that big old blast of magic had nothing to do with it."

"Place had no structural ingenuity-"

"Integrity."

"-integrity. Terrible workmanship."

"Uh huh."

"Place was a safety hazard! It was a controlled demolition, doing everyone a favour."

Bull rubs at his forehead, tightens his grip on Lavellan to try and ease the jitter panicking through his muscles now. Too tight, probably, but he knows Lavellan won't call him on it, despite what he's saying.

"How about next time you decide to do some 'controlled demolition', you try and be outside of the demolition site first, yeah?"

"I tried," Lavellan says, voice softer this time.

"I know," Bull says, "just keep trying for me."

Lavellan nods, slumps a little and lets his head drop against Bull's chest.

Bull made peace a while ago with the fact that Lavellan was never going to stop doing what needed doing, regardless of the risk, and that getting in the way wasn't going to help anyone. No one had warned him that romance would involve this much risk management.

"Hey, Rocky!" Bull calls out, catching his eye, "ever thought about taking on an apprentice?"

#dadwc #fix it in post #dragonage #yes it's saturday here that's just how the time difs work out lmao

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nitewrighter · 4 years ago

Note

Does Hanzo ever find out what Genji went through/what he was like during Blackwatch? If so, how does he react?

I think he does eventually, like... Genji lets him know that he was in a very difficult physical and emotional place with Blackwatch, and Hanzo’s able to pick up from Mercy that “Okay no, I don’t think you understand, it was really bad”--but she’s also fairly light on the details mostly for Genji’s sake like “Hey, I’m not going to tell you any more than Genji was comfortable with telling you.” And Zenyatta hangs back for the same reasons, and also he wasn’t there so he doesn’t want to distort the details from what Genji’s told him. So the one person Hanzo can actually get the full story from... is McCree.

Also this fic references the first meeting fic so yeah!

----

“Well?” Hanzo had one elbow resting on the bar. Music was faintly playing but it blended in with the humming murmur of the other patrons. Snowflakes were buffeting the glass of the windowpanes just outside and both of them had shrugged off their heavier coats. The bar itself had a homey, lived-in quality to it. Not dirty, but with a definite age to it that seemed to lend a further brightness to the bodies gliding through it and chatting. The icy Andean wind had heightened the redness of Hanzo’s nose and cheeks well before any alcohol had. It contrasted against the cold discernment of his dark brown eyes.

“I’m gonna answer your question with a question--” McCree started.

“Which isn’t an answer--”

McCree leaned back in his bar seat, folding his arms across himself. He almost looked sagely. “Are you asking this because you genuinely think it will help you get a gauge on your shit and move forward, or are you freaking out because things are going more okay than you think you deserve and feel a need to kick yourself square in the Rocky Mountain oysters?”

“Rocky Mountain--?”

“It’s this fried--I’m talking about--” McCree sighed and sipped his whiskey, “I’m saying you’re doing... you’re doing really well, Hanzo. You’re touching base with the team, reachin’ out, you seem to be sleeping and eating better, hell, you’re clutch on missions, but now you’re asking about this, and it worries me.”

“Why should it worry you?” Hanzo’s eyes narrowed.

“Because--y’know... I care about you. You’re a part of this team and I care about you... in a..” McCree cleared his throat, “Team-y way. And... you were stuck in a dark lonely place and I ain’t itchin’ to give you the means to go back there. ”

“But you can understand that the fact that I don’t have the full story distresses me more, can you not?” said Hanzo, “As well as the fact that knowing the more the truth of it is obscured with me, the worse I can assume the situation was.”

McCree scratched at his beard, frowning. “Yeah... yeah I can understand it--but I can also understand Mercy and Zen not spillin’ the beans on Genji’s account.”

“Mm...” Hanzo glanced off and sipped his own drink.

McCree twisted his glass slowly, “Then again, sometimes I think Reyes brought me on the team to begin with because I have a pretty high success rate with the whole, ‘Beg forgiveness before asking permission’ rate.”

Ana called you a charmer, the words almost slipped out of Hanzo but he wasn’t sure how they would land, so he held them in. Instead, Hanzo only mildly gestured at the bartender to refill McCree’s glass.

“Don’t think you’re getting it just because you’re gettin’ me drunk. It ain’t exactly a pretty story,” said McCree.

“I’m prepared,” said Hanzo.

McCree studied him a few moments longer, one hand still wrapped around his glass and one corner of his mouth pulled up with indecision before he closed his eyes and exhaled. “All right,” he said, “If only to keep you from kicking your own ass over what you don’t know.”

“I want you to start at the beginning,” said Hanzo, his stare steady.

“Well t’be fair, Blackwatch was casin’ Hanamura for months, even before your old man passed--er---my condolences--”

Hanzo snorted a little. “It’s... fine,” he said a bit awkwardly. He was more disarmed than really upset at the idea that McCree may have been far better versed in the activities of the Shimada Clan than he had really anticipated.

“Gérard, that is, our UN Attaché, had this whole thing about ‘pulling everything out to the light,’---And the fella was good at it. Could sniff out paper trails and track down dirty money like no other. The initial plan was to get Genji on possession charges and drag the whole clan out behind him. Your old man’s passin’--again, condolences--threw the whole schedule off though. And then we received additional intel that the Shimada dragons might be more.... uh... what’s the word for ‘unusual’ but it’s like... more business-y unusual?”

Hanzo shrugged.

“Un... Im... Uhhh.... Anomalous! That’s the word! Might be more anomalous than we thought and ‘warranting further investigation’ or whatever,” McCree seemed to be easing into the story now, plucking up details from debriefings, “SEP and all its affiliates had been more or less shut down post-Crisis, but there were still worries about human experimentation... strange abilities, and the like. And the dragon stories had been floating around your family for decades, but only when things got destabilized did we consider they might be more than stories. Then we got word that the wheels had been set in motion that the clan would kill Genji before we could get our hands on him--Arrest mission became extraction mission, and extraction mission became rescue mission. The time frame was so sudden we had to bring the Doc along because we thought she would be our best chance at saving him--She wasn’t in Blackwatch, you understand. Wasn’t too keen on undermining the Japanese government either. But... it turns out bringing her along was the right choice.”

Hanzo seemed to be maintaining a veneer of calm, but there was an unmistakeable new undercurrent of tension in his movements and expression as he sipped his own drink.

“You know what he looked like when you left him,” said McCree, “Do you really want me to go into the details there?”

“Yes,” said Hanzo.

McCree huffed and took another gulp of whiskey. The burn of alcohol rasped the first few words of his next sentence. “So it was me, Reyes, the Doc, and a handful of Blackwatch extraction medics touching down in Hanamura that night. Apparently the Shimada clan’s forces were decentralized from the castle. We infiltrated the castle grounds. Found a handful of your security already dead. Took out one more... left his body with the others. Didn’t have time to run a full investigation, or lock anything down. Finding Genji was the top priority. And we found him. Three limbs gone. Puddle of his own blood. Looked midway between... someone had dropped him in a garbage disposal but at the same time... not right--just... gone. The limbs were gone. The wounds were too clean but still bleedin’ out.”

Hanzo’s knuckles curled in, white and shaking as he took a steadying breath. “Consumed,” Hanzo said quietly, “The dragon consumed them.”

“I can stop--” McCree started.

“Finish what you start, Cowboy,” Hanzo’s voice was steady.

McCree swallowed. “I’d seen some fucked up shit under Reyes, but this... yeah, it was new. I kind of froze up, not quite scared, but just trying to make sense of it. But then I snapped out of it as the Doc rushed to him first. I had a vantage point in case other castle security showed up. Reyes was at the opening to that big-ass balcony so he could flag down our evac. So uh, what you need to understand here is that we uh... we actually had very little solid intel as to what the Shimada dragons were capable of.”

“...but I had left the scene well before this,” said Hanzo, trying to puzzle out the timeline of his own fleeing the castle grounds.

“Yeah it... wasn’t your dragon we saw,” said McCree, “See, the Doc, she had to do this... staff... defibrillation thing? I didn’t get a good look at it but Genji, he uh...started thrashin’ and this light sprang out of him. Bright green. Never seen anything like it. He was screaming. Next thing I know he’s grabbing Mercy’s neck.”

Hanzo flinched with some alertness. “What?”

“I mean--first instinct, I’m saying to Reyes, ‘Boss, I got a shot’--like, I know the mission was asset acquisition, but light show or not I wasn’t about to let him kill Angela, but then she hollers out ‘Don’t shoot him!’ And I’m stuck there looking to Reyes like, ‘You’re gonna override that, right?’ And... and Reyes was so calm... I--I could see him doing the math. Breaking people down to resources... breaking their deaths down to trade-offs...”

“You... thought you had to shoot Genji--” Hanzo’s brow was crinkling.

“If Reyes gave me the word,” McCree shrugged, then itched at the brim of his hat, “I never thought someone would hesitate on saving the doc like he was doing right there, though. But.... then she said something to Genji. Never asked what it was, but it seemed to calm him down before he passed out.”

“And you’re saying he grabbed her neck when they first met,” Hanzo’s eyes were narrowed, “But they’re...”

“Well, he was only half-conscious and in this full-on survival mode and she had just... jammed a huge amount of biotic-whatever into his chest. He didn’t know if she was helping or trying to... y’know it was like those times you nearly punched me in the face when I was trying to wake you up from those night terrors.”

“I’m sorry for that,” said Hanzo.

“Psh. If I had a nickel for every time someone took a swing at me out of some kind of traumatic reflex...” he smiled to try and make this seem more lighthearted than it actually was, but Hanzo seemed to still be processing everything, so McCree cleared his throat. “Word of advice, though, don’t make any ‘I guess you’re into that’ jokes with the doc,” he said with a nervous laugh, “No it uh... it took them both a while. I mean, there was this thing there, definitely, but yeah, they were both neck-deep in a whole bunch of shit for a while before they really acknowledged anything.”

“Did Genji take a swing at you?” asked Hanzo.

“Not outside of a Blackwatch sparring ring,” said McCree, “But Jesus, he was scary on the training floor. Still is, sometimes.” McCree paused for a few seconds. “He was obsessed with killing you, y’know. Taking down the whole clan and killing you. Every mission where he got a sniff of you, every mission he thought you might be there and you weren’t, he’d come back snarling.”

Hanzo blinked a few times and glanced down. He knew it made sense, given the idea of justice their family had ingrained in them, but there was still an odd sting to the idea. But I’m his brother, he thought, but then he thought, But that didn’t stop me.

McCree seemed to take Hanzo’s silence as permission to go on. “ I’d try to distract him... try to get his head out of his ass sometimes, but a lot of the time... you see any living thing in a state like that, all you can do is give it space. Genji did give us a decent amount of intel on the Shimada clan’s bigger operations... but when it came to actually getting in there... he was always the first one on the ground. As you can imagine, it was personal for him. There were a handful of bullshit ‘stakeouts’ in Japan where Genji would ditch me... I knew Reyes wasn’t telling me the whole story, then again, it wasn’t my job to know the whole story.” McCree sipped his drink. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t know what he was doing, though.”

“...killing heads of the clan,” Hanzo said quietly.

“Can’t exactly confirm or deny that but... yeah,” said McCree. A prickle of alarm seemed to go through him. “Look, I don’t want to kick off any more brother-killing fuckery--”

“You’re not, Jesse,” Hanzo’s voice was subdued, “I was the right hand of the clan... and the destruction wrought by Genji was, if anything, a product of my own actions.”

“Also his actions--He was fucking nightmare--I mean I liked him, but he was a fucking nightmare, sometimes. Lashed out--like... you didn’t really think of him as giving a shit about you with all that seething over the Shimada clan--- but then he’d know how to say something that hurts, and he knows exactly how it hurts, and you wouldn’t know if he learned how to hurt that bad from your family or just because he was hurtin’ that bad and---” McCree seemed to catch the alarmed look in Hanzo’s eyes, then took a steadying breath before sipping his drink again, “Look... this stuff... it’s all in the past. And he is a lot better now. And he is one of my best friends. Kind of wild how someone who hurt you that deeply can be a best friend like that, but... that’s kind of how life works. Kind of how this shit works when you don’t know if you’re coming back from that next mission. We’re all fucked up here. It’s about learning to take the fucked up parts of yourself and trying to make it into something that helps the people that mean something to you. ”

“The people that mean something to me...” Hanzo repeated quietly. He remembered McCree’s words from his second night on the watchpoint. ‘We’re all just background noise to you. You’re just here so you can stop kicking your own ass after Genji.’ Then he remembered Genji’s words. ‘Well... you’ve been traveling the world for a decade... has there... been anyone? Anyone special? Anyone you loved?’

“...I feel like I’ve let that part of me atrophy,” Hanzo said quietly. Answering Genji’s question, not McCree’s words.

“Atrophy?” McCree repeated.

“When you don’t use a muscle for a long time and... it ceases to be able to functi--”

“I know what ‘Atrophy’ means--” McCree wasn’t making eye contact, “You let... caring about other people... atrophy,” he parsed, trying to trace out Hanzo’s thought process.

“Mm,” Hanzo took a sip of his own drink, “So while I was wandering in grief, Genji was consumed by pain and rage.”

“Which... he’s told you,” said McCree.

“Well, yes, but he didn’t go into details,” said Hanzo, “I know, this might be difficult or painful to talk about, but I really do appreciate getting a more complete picture of what happened to him after my actions.”

McCree tilted his own glass back and forth on the bar counter, letting the whiskey rock around the interior.“I know, but...don’t heap all this on yourself. Reyes always said he wanted the cockroach motherfuckers, and he was more than happy to let Genji snap and swear and lash out and burn the house down because that suited Blackwatch’s agenda better than, I dunno, therapy? Only when we got benched after the Venice incident did he yank in Genji’s leash, because hey, it turned out having a PTSD cyborg tearin’ around the base cussin’ people out wasn’t a good look for Blackwatch.”

Hanzo huffed a little. There was an odd comfort in that. But then he paused, running over the course of McCree’s words in his mind. “...you keep bringing up Reyes,” Hanzo said, fixing his eyes on McCree.

“Sorry--I--I know this should be about Genji,” said McCree.

“No it... it gives some perspective,” said Hanzo, “You trusted Reyes, didn’t you?”

McCree’s mouth tightened for a few seconds before he drew in a short breath through his nostrils. “Yeah... yeah, I did. He just... I mean I’d keep telling myself I was my own person, that I did things with my own style, but so did he. So like... whether it’s ‘your own style’ from fuckin’ Santa Fe or Los Angeles... is there really that much of a difference? If you still picture yourself in their boots, give or take a decade or so?”

“Hm,” Hanzo was thoughtful at this, “I imagined myself in my father’s position so long that when everything came apart and I found myself wandering the world, dodging the clan’s assassins I felt... like a stranger.”

“Kind of liked being a stranger,” said McCree with slight shrug, “Stranger’s from nowhere. Got nothing to prove.... guess it probably hits different if you got a whole... magical crime lord prince destiny thing, huh?”

“The dragon is not magical,” said Hanzo flatly, but a smile was tugging at his lips.

“Debatable,” said McCree, “First of all: It’s a dragon.”

Hanzo snorted and a quiet pause passed between them. Not uncomfortable, but definitely tired, letting McCree’s words and all the pain and memory that came with them drift and dissipate into the warm air of the bar.

“...I could tell you more if you want,” said McCree, after a few beats. “I do have funnier stories... wasn’t all... ‘he was fucked up.’ And--Genji did seem to be getting better-ish towards the end there, once they put him on Tracer’s strike team... but by then Overwatch itself was coming apart.” He snorted. “I guess that’s kind of a running theme with this stuff.”

“I appreciate the offer,” said Hanzo with a slight chuckle. He paused. “Tracer’s strike team?”

“Well, she and Winston probably got more stories there than I do,” said McCree, “And maybe the doc, if it’s in good faith.” He sipped his drink. “You’re welcome to run off to try and ask them about it.”

“I think... this is enough for now,” said Hanzo. After a few beats he said, “You’re not... all background noise to me.”

“What?” said McCree.

“That... you said that on the second night,” said Hanzo, “It’s... it’s not that I don’t value life, or other people--I’m just... it’s been a very long time since I’ve worked with other people, since I’ve talked to other people on a regular basis like this, since I’ve stayed in one place this long, and...” he trailed off, then took a sip of his own drink with some resolve, “I’m afraid,” he said, letting those words sit in the air for a few seconds, “I’m afraid of lending my abilities to another organization that’s used people to hurt other people and then tossed them aside. When your only connection to other people for most of your life was this twisted blood loyalty...” Hanzo trailed off.

“I’m scared of makin’ the same mistakes too, for what it’s worth,” said McCree, “I don’t think fear like that ever goes away.”

“Redemption’s a bitch?” said Hanzo with a slight smile.

McCree broke into chuckles. “You should swear more often. I feel like that’ll help.”

“You’ve sworn plenty for the both of us, tonight,” said Hanzo crisply, sipping his own drink.

“Still, I’m gonna make it a mission to get a ‘fuck’ out of you,” said McCree and Hanzo choked and sputtered. “I didn’t mean it like that! You know what I mean!” McCree was laughing as Hanzo’s attention was split between choking and laughing and desperately looking around for a napkin after spitting his drink. The bartender swooped by with a napkin and the laughs boiled down into chuckles as Hanzo cleaned up a bit. There was another pause then, that same settling of understanding.

“Thank you,” Hanzo said after a few beats.

“You already thanked me--don’t know what’s worth thanking about saying ‘hey your brother was fucked up and so were we.’”

“Honesty. I appreciate honesty.”

McCree smiled and then shrugged.“Hey--y’know, for all the shit I give you,” McCree started and trailed off, “What I said that night about... all of us being background noise... I know that.. that wasn’t really fair. You really didn’t know any of us and, y’know, as far as the general public is concerned, we’re a whole bunch of mercenary weirdoes doing vigilante shit.”

“And Genji was the only person here I knew, and was really...” Hanzo sighed, “I suppose, I fixed him in my mind to be my last chance at humanity--and made myself out to be a monster to all of you in pursuing that.”

“Well... you’re doing better, I can tell you that much. And... y’know folks are warming up to you.”

“Except Angela,” said Hanzo, with a weary smile.

“She needs time on that... I wouldn’t try to force it,” said McCree, “Baby steps and all that.”

Hanzo huffed a little.

“Hey,” McCree lifted his glass, “To baby steps and runnin’ the hell away from all our old role models.”

“Indeed,” Hanzo clinked his glass against Genji’s. Both sipped their drinks and another pause passed over them. Hanzo felt McCree’s eyes on him and looked over at him.l

“Hey just so we’re clear,” McCree’s chin was in his hand, “I didn’t accidentally kick off some huge new bloody vengeance thing by telling you all this, right?”

“You did not,” said Hanzo with a wry smile.

“Oh thank god.”

#mchanzo #gency

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archived-zombbean · 3 years ago

Note

Yoooo do you have a post somewhere about your Gotham sona's info?

I have an official post on my RP blog but I can put it here! (I'm debating on removing the tattoos on the ref sheet tbh, but I'm not sure yet X'D)

Name: Sona Bean Xueen

Height: 5'0

Weight: 200lbs

Blood Type: B+

Education: Associates Degree

Which Batman Verse is she from?

My own universe called "Death's Child" I take a mixture of my favorite versions of Batman villains, and heroes and mix them.

Relationships:

Victor Zsasz (Sexual and Romantic)

Edward Nygma (Sexual and Romantic)

Jonathan Crane (Romantic)

Oswald Cobblepot (Friend)

Harley Quinn (Friend)

Waylon Jones (Friend)

Jervis Tetch (Friend)

Harvey Dent (Friend)

Victor Fries (Familial)

Pamela Isley (Friend)

Jim Gordon (Very rocky friendship; He would jail her if given the chance.)

Background:

Sona grew up in normal comfort for the first ten years of her life. The daughter of a low tier mafia henchmen, who ran a red light district building by the name of the "Bucking Bronco" where anyone could get their rocks off for the night, for a price. Her father was a man by the name of Jeorge King.

She was spoiled rotten, but never seemed to quite understand that she was. Clothes, toys, treats, and the like were given to her freely, even by men and women her father worked with. She was happy.

However, one day it all changed. She became ill.

Everyone at birth is scanned in this universe. When you are, it's determined what insurances will cover you, what surgery will be allowed to you, and how expensive treatment costs would be. Sona had contracted an easily curable illness, however her scans at birth showed that she stood a 5% chance of contracting said illness. Treatment was expensive, her father's insurance wouldn't cover the cost, and he began to seek out ways to get money to cover it.

This was the first step into a dark era.

Her father began stealing money behind his boss's back, trying to hit up places that wasn't on the list, and even began selling drugs and illegal weaponry to rival gangs.

One night when Sona was asleep, she awoke to gunshots in her living room. Scared the, now thirteen year old, girl walked down the hall and into the room to see three men in black over her fathers body, a bullet through his head. She held in her scream, her voice a whimper between her fingers. But their ears were sharp, and their voices like venom.

"Hey there little girl," one purred, advancing on the young girl who could only cry, "It's okay... I'm not gonna hurt you... okay well, that's a lie... you see your father's been very, very naughty~ Which means you have just as much to pay for as he does, you know? No hard feelings~"

That night the screams that ebbed from her lips were muffled by the rough assault of her intruders. It ended with a bullet to her gut, in hopes she would suffer as a final 'fuck you' to the King line.

As she lay in a mess of blood, sweat and tears, she choked back her whimpers. It wasn't fair. None of it was fair!

She got up, shaking on her hands and knees, crawling over to her father's corpse. She shook him, desperately trying to wake him, but to no avail. She shook harder.

"Please! Please.... dad, wake up! Please.... I... I need you... I can't.... I can't breath..." she felt blood in the back of her throat, but she refused to die. She had to live. She had to!

The memory is a blur, but that day she was rescued by a young man. A police officer of all things. Peter Gordon. She was alone. She had a decent amount of wealth left behind by her father, an inheritance of sorts. she had to change her name. Leave the old behind. They'd find her if she didn't. So she changed her name to Xueen.

It took six months to repair the damage. She was told she would never be able to have children, but it didn't seem to phase her. She didn't care about starting a family. To hell with what little future she had left. What she craved was revenge.

Revenge came on her 16th birthday. After a few years of underground training, paying hired guns to teach her to use high caliber weapons, and pistols, she finally shot her shot. The men that raided her family home and murdered her father died at her hands. She shot out their knees, broke elbows with sledge hammers, gutted one and slung his entrails over another, she pulled eyes from their sockets, used adrenaline to keep them alive for 48 hours. When the screams finally faded, she sobbed. She finally killed the people that murdered her father.

She had no purpose. She was still going to die. It was just a matter of how long it would take until she died.

But a thought occurred. Those three were just following orders. They were just pawns on a much larger board. There was still a king to overthrow. Her hands clenched into fists, and a snarl laced her lips. There was more to do. She had nothing to lose. Death was already at her doorstep, might as well greet him with an open hand.

She no longer feared death.

Sona invested in stocks which only served to increase her wealth, but by this point her illness had progressed to the point of no recovery. If she'd just gotten the treatment as a child, it wouldn't have progressed this far. She was eighteen.

She hired her own group of thugs, her own gang beginning to form. But they weren't quite up to snuff. She needed someone with more experience in killing... someone who wouldn't hesitate. Someone who would be loyal, and follow her every command. She was getting sicker. She needed someone to be her weapon when she was unable to lift one herself.

A few weeks later she hears of a serial killer. Very proficient. Very lethal. He's taken out a few of her men already, so she dared to see just whom this man was.

And it was then she came face to face with the mass murderer himself. A man decorated in scars along his arms and chest, a sadistic smile trailing over his lips. His eyes had a murderous lust to them, but she could only smile back. He was perfect.

"Hello there, my name is Sona Xueen. Did you know you've been causing me a lot of trouble lately?" she hummed, resting a hand on her chin.

The man advanced slowly his curiosity piqued. Why wasn't she afraid of him? Why wasn't she running?

"Hmm..." he looked her over, a glimmer of a knife in his hand, "Aren't you cute~ what would bring a vulnerable, sweet, young woman all teh way out here~?"

She grinned even wider, "I have a proposition for you... you work for me, you get paid, and you get to kill more than just junkies and my men for a living... work for me and you'll never have to live in filth again! You'll be able to live out any perverted violent fantasy you set your sights on!"

He paused, glancing over the other, then at the knife. After a long train of thought he tossed the knife to the side.

"What'cha got in mind boss?" he chuckled, a dark tone to his voice.

"How does targeting corporate heads sound? They've been very, very naughty, and I think it's about time we send those pig headed shits packing," she smirked.

The other's eyes widened, "A challenge~? I like it!"

"What's your name?"

"Victor. Victor Zsasz,"

She was twenty one.

She now stands at the epiphany of her career. There are ten corporate heads that need to roll, and five have already crumbled. There are five left to snuff out. She grins at the thought. The thought that her revenge will not only satisfy the violent lust in her stomach, but that there will never be children that are forced to go through what she had. Parents will never have to suffer losing their children. Parents will never be forced to resort to extreme measures to ensure their safety and well being. People won't have to die over a system designed to kill them.

She coughs. Her chest hurts. A pain shoots through her entire body. She's surprised she's lived this long. Perhaps it's spite? Or anger? Perhaps it's her wanting to live just a bit longer so she can spend time with the friends she's made along the way.

She feels a hand on her shoulder as she's lifted into a strong pair of arms. It's Victor. He wears a goofy smile as he always does around her. She lets out a satisfied sigh. For now everything is okay. For now everything is normal. One day she'll die. One day Victor will make sure that he's the one to do it. He's vowed. He's promised.

She's somehow made it to thirty.

That's basically everything I have on her so far! I have a few comics planned to go into detail of her relationships with some of the rouges she's closer to. Like Victor as her lover and weapon, Riddler as her informant and occasional sex partner, Mr. Freeze as her father figure, Penguin as a very dear close friend, and her strange friendship with Jim Gordon because of his father saving her life. There's a lot of puzzle pieces I'd rather fill in with art and pictures rather than story format, but I hope you enjoy her lore!

#sona #sona's backstory #lore #devil's child au #batman #oc

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luxekook · 5 years ago

Text

intensity | myg

⇥ pairing: yoongi x reader ⇥ genre: angst, smut, fluff, established relationship ⇥ summary: this is a sequel to intimidation. in which yoongi is intense in every facet of their relationship, except one… and the reader is on a mission to find out why. ⇥ word count: 3.9k ⇥ warnings: nc17, cursing, dirty talk, general chaos, dom!yoongi with a side of switch, sub!reader with a side of switch, rough smut [oral (f receiving), light choking, spanking, breast worship, slight marking, slight ownership kink, unprotected sex (wrap it, folx, please), mentions of threesomes]

⇥ dedication: @shadowsremedy heaaaath bby! i hope you like this! i think it might be terrible, but plz enjoy anyway sdfsdhbakj

⇥ prequel: intimidation

Six months into dating Min Yoongi and you were so fucking whipped for him that you might just say the dreaded “L” word.

Was it too soon to know? The majority of your friends sure thought so - Nia being the exception.

(“Wife him up, girl!”)

The majority of your friends also thought that Yoongi never outwardly showed how much he cared for you. But, you knew they just weren’t looking hard enough.

They weren’t looking at the way he linked his pinky with yours just to be connected to you. They weren’t looking at the way he always gave you his full and undivided attention no matter how trivial of a story you told. They weren’t looking at the way he flushed a light shade of pink whenever you complimented his music.

But you were looking. God, you were looking so hard you feared you might just melt under the intensity that was Min Yoongi.

Everything about Yoongi was intense: his aura, his focus, his ambition.

Everything about dating Yoongi was even more intense: his devotion, his affection, his possessive nature.

Everything about him was intense… Everything except one thing.

Sex.

And you were baffled.

Yoongi treated you like a queen, albeit a fragile one. He fucked you like you might break under him. He fucked you softly, sweetly.

You weren’t saying that the sex wasn’t good. He always made sure that you came multiple times with his fingers, his tongue, his cock. But it just wasn’t enough. It was like he was holding part of himself back from you. And you just wanted to know why.

Were you not attractive enough to evoke such fervor? Was he not into it? Oh lord, did he think you sucked at sex? You could pull out some receipts that said otherwise.

And, yet, the absolute worst part of it all was the fact that Yoongi’s reputation for being a dominant lover preceded him. You heard it from your friends, you heard it from the twitter-verse, you heard it from his friends… fuck, you’d even heard it from your damn T.A.

And yet, all Yoongi gave you was sweet, sweet vanilla.

And all you wanted was some damn rocky road.

The tipping point came earlier that night when you had overheard Yoongi and his friends talking about you…

“Aren’t you bored, Yoongi? What do you even do together? Make flashcards?”

That was one fucking time, you had glared accusingly at the wooden door that separated you from where Yoongi and his friends had been congregated in his tiny dorm room. Your ears had strained to catch Yoongi’s muttered response through the cacophony of laughter and had failed miserably.

When you had planned to surprise your boyfriend after your night class had been cancelled, you’d never thought that you would end up being the one caught off guard.

You hadn’t initially meant to eavesdrop on their conversation, but his friends had just been so loud and your curiosity had just gotten the best of you.

“She’s such a goody-goody… I bet she doesn’t let you get rough.”

That time you had heard Yoongi’s answer: “I just don’t know if she could handle it… (y/n) is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I don’t want to mess it up if I blow her back out and break her.”

You had heard enough. Turning on your heel, you had marched back down the dimly lit hallway towards the stairwell.

“Couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t handle it?”

Now, you found yourself still seething hours later. Livid, but not without plans. You had already decided to take this matter into your own hands days earlier, but now your timeline had shifted. Oh, Min Yoongi would rue the day…

You smiled at your reflection in the mirror as you applied your blood red lipstick. Your phone long since silenced lit up for the umpteenth time that evening.

You were ignoring him. Was it petty? Yes. Was it strategic? Fuck yes.

You knew that Yoongi would be going to Seokjin’s birthday party tonight. The older boy had blackmailed Yoongi into going a few weeks ago by threatening to release an old demo that Yoongi had made in his early teens.

Suddenly, you were also going to make an appearance - a complete coincidence, of course.

Nia had convinced you that going with her to this party would drive Yoongi crazy, especially since you'd been ignoring him. But she also had an ulterior motive. Nia and Jimin had been hooking up on and off since you and Yoongi had gotten together; and, right now, they were very much in an 'on' phase.

You gave yourself one last glance over in the mirror and shrugged. The little black dress and heeled ankle boots would do. After all, it was really what was underneath that counted.

The new lingerie that you had impulse-ordered a few days ago after brainstorming ideas on how to make Yoongi lose his mind had arrived. The set that you settled on tonight might just achieve that goal - all black lace with garters and thigh highs.

It had put a nice dent in your wallet, but it would be well worth it if your boyfriend finally fucked you into next week.

Speaking of... your phone lit up yet again, this time with an incoming call. You were so tempted to pick up. Yoongi's voice was your favorite - all deep and raspy and teasing.

Your freshly manicured finger sent him to voicemail.

“(Y/n)!” Nia’s voice called from her bedroom adjacent to the bathroom you currently resided in, “Are you ready?”

“Yes, let’s do this.”

Fifteen minutes later, you walked through Jin’s front door. “Whoa,” Nia stopped short, making you bump into her.

“What?” You surveyed the crowded room. Then you spotted him. “Oh my god.”

Jin stood atop the coffee table wearing nothing but a pair of banana-printed shorts and a felt birthday cake hat. He was also dancing rather aggressively to “Birthday Cake” by Rihanna.

“Yah!” His attention suddenly fell on you and Nia, “Wel-come and put your name on it.”

You both gaped at the birthday boy who now was descending into a twerking fit while screaming the word ‘cake’ alongside Rihanna.

“Do you think it’s too late to turn back?” You whispered to Nia.

“He’s already seen us. We’re doomed,” Nia responded, her eyes still glued to Jin’s writhing form.

Laughing, you grabbed Nia’s wrist and tugged her towards the kitchen.

Suddenly, you felt eyes on you, on your body. You knew that Yoongi was here somewhere, and he’d seen you. It would be so easy to just go up to your boyfriend and smother him with kisses and affection like usual; but, that was not on the agenda. And so you forged forth without a backwards glance towards the living room where he must have been.

After fixing a drink and losing Nia quickly to Jimin, you were still steadfastly avoiding going back into the living room. Now, you were in a nice conversation with a boy named Jinyoung about the merits of being in Slytherin.

"Can I talk to you?" Yoongi pushed in between you and Jinyoung, effectively interrupting your rant over how Slytherin ambition can be used for good.

"Can it wait?" You spared your boyfriend a cursory glance before turning back to Jinyoung. Yoongi already looked thoroughly pissed off. Perfect. Suppressing a smile, you tried to reinstate your conversation with Jinyoung and pretend that Yoongi was not even there.

Yoongi let out a low growl before snapping, “No, it can't wait." He grabbed your hand and began to pull you down the narrow hallway. Your feigned protests fell on deaf ears as he continued to tug you along towards Jin's room. You waved in departure at an amused Jinyoung who just raised his glass in your direction.

Opening the door, Yoongi pushed you inside and slammed the door shut behind him. Crossing his arms across his chest, Yoongi pinned you with his stare. “Are you mad at me?" His question came with an accompanying head tilt and eyebrow raise.

“No. What makes you say that?” You reveled in the scoff he made in response.

Yoongi stalked towards where you stood at the foot of Jin’s bed. “You haven’t answered my texts or calls. You haven’t acknowledged me all night. You even walked right by me earlier in the living room, baby. So help me out, because I’m a little confused.”

“Join the club.”

“What was that?” His narrowed eyes spat fire in your direction. The words you had mumbled under your breath were obviously not as subtle as you thought.

“Nothing, baby.” You smiled innocently despite your boyfriend’s growing fury. “I just didn’t see you or your texts earlier.”

Yoongi’s jaw clenched. “Bullshit.”

“Yoongi, drop it.”

“No, I won’t drop it, (y/n)! You’re obviously mad at something I did.”

“I’m not!”

“Oh my god. You’re fucking furious.”

“I’m not mad, okay? God, I am so tired of you parading around like you know every damn thing about me. Well, guess what: you don’t, Min Yoongi!”

Your boyfriend’s eyebrows had practically disappeared under the fringe of his hair during your outburst. His eyes were comically wide as you continued.

“You think I’m so fucking breakable? Newsflash, buddy, I’ve been someone else’s sub before! But you wouldn’t know that, would you? You wouldn’t even know the first thing about what I like in bed. And you know why? Because you’ve never asked!”

Yoongi no longer looked shellshocked. No. Now, he just looked downright agitated. “Baby, calm down.”

This little shit right here…

“Oh no, you don’t get to tell me to calm down! Not when you’ve been going around telling everyone and their mother that you fuck me like I’m fragile. And, meanwhile, I’m over here being bombarded with people ranting and raving about how rough you are in bed! Well, if you’re so rough and ready then why the fuck am I still getting this sweet vanilla shit? Am I not attractive enough for you, is that it?”

“Kitten, I’d really advise you to stop talking.” The new nickname flew right over your head as you spared a glance in his direction and swallowed. His expression was thunderous. Too bad you were too far into your rant to turn back now.

“I must be really fucking boring to you if you won’t even consider spicing things up with me! Am I not pleasing enough for you to want your fucking mark on my body? Is that it? Or are you just tired of me in general?“

“You’re playing a very dangerous game here, (y/n)…” Yoongi cupped your chin in his hand tightly and drew your face up to his. You gulped. You had never seen your boyfriend look so angry, so punishing, so hot. He continued, “I’ve told you before that I’d give you anything if you just asked for it. So, I just want you to think about what you’re asking for here.”

The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them. “I haven’t thought about anything else for fucking weeks! I even considered asking Sehyun for advice!”

“And who’s Sehyun?”

Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You had not planned to mention your dominant ex-boyfriend as part of this conversation.

“(Y/n), I am going to ask you one more time… Who. Is. Sehyun?”

In your tiniest voice, you replied, “My ex who used to dom me.”

Yoongi hissed a breath in between his teeth. “So, you’re telling me that instead of coming to me with this, you thought about going to your fucking ex? Your old dom?”

This was not good. This was really not good.

“That’s not the point!”

“You’re right.” Yoongi suddenly sits on the edge of the bed and tugged me face down across his lap. “The point is that you’ve been bad. And bad girls get punished.”

It was honestly embarrassing how quickly you got wet after he uttered those words with you splayed out on top of him. Positioned like this, you felt vulnerable, totally at his mercy.

Yoongi rolled up the bottom of your dress. As you felt the cool air of the room brush your lace-covered ass and thighs, Yoongi sucked in a breath. You felt his gaze on you. “Kitten,” His voice came out deeper than you had ever heard it before, "Did you buy these for me?"

You shimmied your hips on his lap, craving any sort of friction. "Yes," you moaned as you felt Yoongi's fingers hook under one of your garters, before pulling and snapping it back onto the skin of your thigh. The accompanying sharp sting of pain only made you even more soaked - a fact that was not lost on Yoongi.

"You like that, don't you?" Yoongi repeats his actions on your other thigh before murmuring lowly, "Don't you, my little slut?"

You let out an involuntary moan at his filthy words, grinding into his dark jeans.

Smack. Yoongi slapped one of your cheeks, startling you with both the sound and the sting.

“I asked you a question.“ Yoongi's hand kneaded your ass, causing the prickling of pain to quickly turn to pleasure.

"I do! I do like it, daddy.” The title slipped out automatically, but judging by the way Yoongi's cock twitched underneath you, he didn't mind.

"Fuck yeah, kitten. Call me daddy.”

Yup, he really didn't mind.

"Now, I want you to count," Yoongi growled, hand squeezing you roughly before sliding your panties and thigh highs off to fully uncover your ass and thighs.

"Yes, daddy.” The anticipation, though brief, made your heart race.

"This is for ignoring my messages.”

Smack. "One."

“This one is for ignoring me in person.”

Smack. "T-two."

”This is for lying to me."

Smack. "Three."

"This is for thinking you're not attractive enough for me."

Smack. "Four."

"This is for even considering that I might find you boring."

Smack. "F-five."

“Look at you,” Yoongi’s fingers suddenly ceased their kneading and drifted to your drenched pussy, “You’re fucking soaked, and you’re only halfway though your punishment.” His finger slid inside you fleetingly before sliding back out. Your back arched in search of contact - something, anything.

“This is for not saying you wanted my mark sooner."

Smack. “Si-ix.”

“Actually, kitten, I’m going to give you two for that one.”

Smack. “Mm, seven.” The heat from his smacks was spreading from your ass to your pussy, settling low in your belly.

”This is for mentioning that prick Sehyun."

Smack. "You don't even know h-" Smack. Smack.

“E-eight!”

"This is for being a brat and not coming to me with your issues."

Smack. “Nine.”

“This is for fucking dripping all over my jeans despite the fact that this was supposed to be a punishment.”

Smack. “Ten.”

You laid slack in his lap for a bit, pliant under his kneading hands.

“You did so well, kitten.” Yoongi cradled you in his arms, pulling you into an upright position before laying you down on the bed with your legs hanging off the side. “I’m going to fuck you so hard…” He groaned, burying his face against your breasts, lips seeking. “But first, I think you need a little reward after taking that punishment so well.”

You arched, needing his mouth.

“Let’s get these clothes off of you.” He pulled your dress over your head before quickly unhooking your bra from behind your back.

“Goddamn, you really do have the prettiest fucking nipples I’ve ever seen, kitten. I always wonder if I could make you cum just by sucking them. I bet I can…”

Your mind grew hazy when he finally turned his head and took one of your nipples between his lips, dragging his tongue over the sensitive bud. He sucked it into his mouth with a groan, and you couldn’t help but moan, “Yes, daddy!” Your body felt like it was burning; but, still, you wanted more.

He turned to your other nipple and muttered, “You taste so sweet, (y/n)...” Yoongi worshipped your other nipple with his mouth, his tongue, and even the slightest bite of teeth. After finally leaving that one as aching as the other, he pulled back to face you.

“Kitten, you’re so fucking sexy.” He hovered over you, taking his time kissing down your stomach, leaving marks in his wake. Intentionally skipping the place you need him most, Yoongi trailed kisses on the insides of your thighs. Finally, he was poised over the seam of your pussy.

“This,” his breath caressed your slit, “Belongs to me.” You squirmed, anxious with anticipation.

“Say it,” Yoongi growled, slapping your pussy lightly, “Say that this pretty pussy is all mine.”

“It’s yours. God, Yoongi, it’s yours. Please, daddy.” Your pleas burst from your mouth in an embarrassingly whiny tone.

And then it happened in a blink. His mouth was on you. His hot tongue swiped over your clit before drawing it into his mouth and sucking it.

As he devoured you, a growl sounded from his chest; and, the idea of finally, finally inspiring that kind of lust turned you on so fucking much.

“D-daddy, I’m going to c-come!” You were already coming undone with each skilled swipe of his tongue.

Yoongi pulled back. Honestly, you really should have seen that coming.

(Or should have seen yourself not coming for that matter.)

Before you could even attempt to slide your own hand down to where you needed it most, Yoongi pulled you up towards him. Your legs shook as you tried to find your balance, but he was too impatient for that evidently.

Yoongi picked you up, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his slim waist.

Stumbling, you both crashed into the wall. His hips pressed firmly into yours, wanting you to feel him.

He rested his forehead against yours, and, breathing heavily, he said, "I can't believe you thought for one second that I didn't find you attractive." His hips ground into yours. You felt his hardness, his heat, his desire for you. "Does this feel like I'm not attracted to you, kitten? Can’t you tell how hard I am for you? Fuck, you just had me on my knees, facedown in your pussy... Don’t you know that you fucking own me?"

"Y-yoongi," You gasped for air, breathless from his admissions and his actions, "I know it now. You fucking own me, too."

His lips turned up at the corners before slamming down onto yours, kissing you as if you would disappear if he stopped. Your hand twined around his neck, lacing your fingers through the short strands of his hair and kissing him back with equal vigor.

He tasted so fucking good, like soju and strawberries. You sucked on his tongue, and he groaned. Yoongi’s fingers dug even deeper into the sensitive flesh of your upper thighs.

“Need to fuck you now,” He muttered into your mouth.

"You're gonna have to strip for that to happen, daddy,” You said, smirking as he set you down.

Smack. “I should have known you were a fucking brat,” he laughed.

You pouted in response as you watched your hot-as-sin boyfriend make quick work of his clothes. Your eyes drifted over the lean muscles of his body before settling on the hard length of his cock. What you wouldn’t give to take him in your mouth right now…

“No time for that,” Yoongi chuckled, noticing your attention and catching onto your train of thought, “Now be a good girl and bend over the bed.”

Well, since he asked so nicely.

You complied, bending over with a mix of excitement and arousal bubbling in your stomach. You could feel Yoongi standing over you. He snaked one hand around your body to thumb one of your nipples. His other hand ventured lower, and one of his fingers pumped inside your pussy.

He pinched your nipple. “Fuck, kitten, you’re so fucking wet for me.”

“Please, daddy. Please fuck me.” You groaned, arching into his finger as he pumped it in and out of you. “I need your cock.”

“Yeah? You want daddy’s cock?” Yoongi’s finger disappeared. In its place, you felt the crown of his cock slowly stroking your folds. “Then, you’ll get it.”

He slid into you with a deep groan, his hand twining into your hair. He was so hard; his arousal only made you needier. He slowly began to slide in and out.You moved your hips to match his, wanting to feel his full-length reach deep inside you with every stroke.

His thrusts became faster and harder. “Good girl.” You could feel his gaze fixed between your legs. “I see you taking me.”

Still gripping your hair, Yoongi pulled out and slammed back in, giving everything into each thrust and rocking you against the bed.

You buried your head into the duvet to muffle your moans. It took every muscle in you not to come.

"Fuck, (y/n),“ He groaned as he plunged into you. You backed up into him, trying to get him even deeper inside you. He lifted you onto all fours and the resulting angle was divine.

Your body started shaking. Subconsciously, one of your hands shimmied down your body to touch your clit, needing that final push.

Apparently, not on Yoongi’s watch.

He pulled one hand away from its grip on your hip and set it back down with a smack. Your right ass cheek stung fiercely. “I didn’t give you permission to touch yourself, kitten,” Yoongi growled, “That’s my job.”

And, with that, Yoongi pinched your clit and slammed into you. That was all it took to push you over the edge. “Ah, Yoongi!” You screamed into the comforter of the bed in hopes that it might muffle your exclamation.

“That’s right, kitten, milk daddy’s cock. Fuck yes,” Yoongi continued to pound into you through your own orgasm. His moans got louder as his thrusts grew sloppier until his hot cum poured into you.

Breathing heavily, he collapsed on top of you briefly before pulling out and falling to your side. You both continued to pant in your collapsed positions on the bed. You could hardly move.

You turned your head to the side to look at your boyfriend. His eyes were hooded, his hair a mess. “Round two?” You suggested with a smile.

Yoongi’s gummy smile made a brief appearance, “You’re going to kill me, (y/n).”

“No,” Jin’s voice came from the doorway, “I’m going to kill you both.”

You and Yoongi screamed as you scrambled to pull the comforter over your naked bodies.

“I can’t believe this,” the birthday boy continued, “You fucked in my room? In my bed? On my birthday? And I didn’t even get an invite?” His eyes were twitching murderously. “I’m the one who’s supposed to have birthday sex! Me, you peasants, me!”

You shot Yoongi a speculative look as Jin continued to rant.

“Really?” Your boyfriend groaned at your unspoken question, “Right now?”

“It’s his birthday!” You hissed, “Besides, I did show up without a present…”

Yoongi pondered it, “Fine, but I am so punishing you for this later. Fucking hell, how many more kinks do you have that I don’t know about?”

As Yoongi trailed off, muttering about masochism and threesomes, you stood. Clutching the blanket to your body, you walked over to where Jin had finally quieted down.

The boy eyed you suspiciously, “What?”

“You said you wanted an invite, Kim.” You dropped the blanket, “Consider the invitation sent.”

a/n: big yikes on how this turned out skskskss hope you liked it anyway despite the chaotic-ness that is this fic

#bangtanhq #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #ficswithluv #bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #hyunglinenetwork #180knet #kwritersworldnet #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #yoongi #smut #bts #bts smut #bts fic #myg

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captainkirkmccoy · 5 years ago

Note

How about mission gone wrong with mckirk (platonic or romantic) if you like it

“We’ve lost contact, sir.”

Len stood on the ship’s deck, peering at the inky blackness that surrounded them on all sides, the only sounds besides the crew preparing for launch was the waves slapping the boat. It’s gentle rhythm was unnerving to him as he waited, ears and eyes straining for any glimpse of his husband.

It was Science ensign, Cora, who spoke, a young Andorian who had volunteered for the away mission, one of Sulu’s proteges who just saved the neck of half their team with quick thinking that get them a medal if Leonard had to petition every Admiral in the fleet to do so. While their half of the way team had scurried when they got on the ship, Cora had stuck by Leonard like a shadow, speaking matter-of-factly and level-headed in a way Leonard himself couldn’t. Because he had lost his voice. Not a grumble, grunt or sigh would come out of his mouth. But Cora, bless them, had a way of understanding Leonard when he couldn’t fully communicate himself.

They had found the pirates, bartered with them, and gotten them the ship before nightfall. If they hadn’t, the desert’s chill and incoming dust storm would have done them in. They’d splintered Leonard’s ankle, though he’d hobbled for a mile before giving in to the help. He was a doctor dammnit not a patient.

“Could be the dust storm.” Cora offered, a gentle smile tugging at their features.

Leonard took off his ring, flicking the sand off his finger, and slid it back on. The grit remained.

What he wanted to ask was an obvious question How far are we from the transport point? He asked, eyes trained on the tricks the shadows were playing on him. If he squinted, he could see Jim’s silhouette.

“A few kilometers, sir.”

Leonard raised an eyebrow. What he wanted to say was. That the accuracy they team on science track these days?”

Cora’s lips twitched. “Approximately 4 kilometers, sir. If the reading is correct.”

And it wasn’t. The sand was ionized, affecting everything from comms to tricorders. Nothing was certain on Zima. The small contingent of beings that made their home there had kept to themselves, so there weren’t any first hand accounts or records.The Enterprise been sent on a purely exploratory mission. And Jim had been fine to let a science team, including Sulu, go down and get a look, pull some samples. But that was three days ago and Jim didn’t take lightly to planets that took his people. He would have gone himself, with a small security detail, but Leonard had muscled his way in and Cora as well. Six in total, four of which were on this boat.

The electrical storm had hit mid-transport and they’d been scattered around the drop point.

A fried away pack had been found on their way to what they figured could be Sulu’s team’s last location. It could have been Jim’s. Could have been Sulu’s. It smelled like replicated plastic and char.

Leonard turned away from the water and the shadows beyond. “I know he will.”

****

On the other side of the brackish water, on a sea called Distorm, Jim Kirk and Security Officer Hendorff, were drying off as they made their way across a rocky beach.

Because Kirk luck followed him to the ends of the ‘verse, Jim was dropped mid-beam, into the sea. Hendorff deserved a promotion just for somehow smelling the electric charged air and pulling them both out of the water before the ion storm fried them both.

“No comm. no contact.” Hendorff had smacked the comm against his palm after it sputtered and died. Jim’s phaser was intact, clipped as always to his side but his comm and pack were gone and his clothes were so wet even after hours or drying that each step felt like he were wearing weights.

“That’s okay, I’ve been here before.”

“You should stop going on away missions, man.” His Security officer said and shook his head, droplets of water flying.

“So Bones tells me.”

“And you should listen to your husband.”

Jim smiled at him. “I’m going to tell him you said that.”

It wasn’t long before the chill set in. The rocky crag they had crawled on did little to warm them and the cycle of ionized air gusts prevented a fire from starting.

Jim was too tired to move but he had long given up on staying still. He could hear Bones in his ear telling him to stay there, dammnit. I’ll find you.

And Jim didn’t doubt it. But the idea that Bones could be hurt, lost, sepearted from the rest of the away team, kept Jim moving, even after his teeth started to chatter and his clothes dragged behind him.

He thought about shucking his tunic, or at least his pants, but when he did, the idea of dragging them off felt as daunting as leaving them on. And so he just kept at it. Him and Hendorff, grunting, swearing, grumbling as they walked. The map could have placed this beach as five kilometers away from Sulu’s last location.

“Sir?”

It took Jim a few seconds of furious eye-blinking to realize he was swaying. He couldn’t see in front of him anymore. He thought the sea was to his left but as he knelt down and ran his fingers over the surface, he realized he was ankle deep in water.

“Fuck.”

Gentle hands on his shoulders steered him to the beach, where the rocks became uneven and he would have fallen flat on his face if not for Hendorff’s hold.

“What the hell?”

“I think you fell asleep, sir.” Hendorff coughed. Jim could barely see his outline and if it wasn’t for the bright surfaces on his uniform, it would be as if he wasn’t even there.

“How close are we?”

“3.5.” Hendorff, said, apologetically.

Jim squeezed his eyes shut, felt the grit there, as if someone had ground a rock into his eyes and took a deep breath. “Sorry, Hendorff. Let’s keep going.”

“Sir, we can rest--”

“I said, let’s keep going.”

He saw the sharp nod as the other man stood straighter and then reached out an arm. Together they hobbled.

***

“No sign of them.” Cora said. They hadn’t slept, staying sentry at Leonard’s side as they landed across the sea. The two suns of Zima rose on opposite sides of the horizon so that it was gorgeously pink and orange across the entire sky. Leonard expected Jim to be there, cocky grin, soft blue eyes. “You worried, Bones?”

They were a kilometer away from Sulu’s last location and their transporter window was closing.

****

“No sign of them.” Hendorff said. Jim couldn’t see. Hadn’t been able to see since emerging from the beach to feel Hendorff dragging him out of the water, both spluttering like fish out of water.

“Soon.” Was all Jim could say. He didn’t say anything about his eyes. He thought maybe Hendorff knew anyway.

***

The pirates wouldn’t take payment but asked that their assistance be kept out of any narratives of Zima’s landscape. Leonard couldn’t help but agree.

Cora insisted Leonard lean on them as they walked. The rocky shore made staying upright hard enough without a broken ankle and Leonard couldn’t be stubborn and stay calm about Jim at the same time.

What was different? Dozens of away missions, close calls, lost hope. But this...was it the uncertainty? Sulu’s loss? The storms?

“Sir?” Cora asked. “I think I see them.”

He turned and on a small outcropping to the west of them, were Hendorff and Jim. And Leonard couldn’t help it, he ran. He ran and he wanted so damn much to scream, to yell, to bellow Jim’s name. Because Jim was laying like a ragdoll thrown to the ground by a tempestuous child. And because Cora seemed to know what he wanted, they yelled for him.

“JIM!”

***

“Sir. It’s okay now. It’s your husband. He’s here. He’s coming.”

Jim was having a panic attack.

He hadn’t had one in months, not since a nightmare had left him clammy and aching, head in the toilet bowl and Bones rubbing circles between his shoulders.

“Fuck.” His mouth felt as if he swallowed sand and sea water alike.

“Sir, your husband’s here.”

And then he felt him. He couldn’t see him. But he knew Bones was there. And in an instant Bones hands were on his cheeks, forehead crashing into his, lips on his earlobe, his neck, hands roaming to all their usual points as Bones felt to make sure he was okay.

“I can’t see you, Bones. I can’t see.” Jim hated the way his voice sounded but he clung to his husband and his husband clung back.

“He can’t talk, Captain.” Ensign Cora told him. “He lost his voice.”

“I can’t see.” Jim said, stating what everyone knew.

Bones pressed his forehead into Jim’s again, soft lips on Jim’s temple. Fingers stroking the nape of his neck.

“I love you. I’m glad you’re okay.” Jim whispered into the shell of his husband’s ear. Right back atcha, Bones soft squeeze of his hand told him back.

#mckirk #star trek #hurt/comfort #leonard mccoy/jim kirk #leonard mccoy x jim kirk #bones x jim #mission gone wrong

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wickedsingularity · 5 years ago

Text

Mittens [Part 2]

wickedsingularity’s Christmas Stories 2019 Masterlist

Fandom: MCU Pairings/characters: Steve Rogers x reader (but not really), all Avengers pre AOU Words: 2732 Warnings: Fluff, bad flirting, too much knitting, me not being as well versed in English knitting terms as Norwegian, kissing, stealing of food, kisses as currency

Summary: Part 2 of Mittens (as requested from lala423 on FF.Net) from wickedsingularity's Christmas Stories 2018, recommend reading that first if you haven't already. Steve is learning to knit to express his feelings.

<< Mittens Part 1

Despite me promising Steve that we didn't have to communicate our feelings with knitted clothes, he brought it up again that he wanted to learn.

I was in the common area, working on Tony's New Year socks and munching away on my Rocky Road treats. It was the worst cliché of all, but I was doing them in red, with golden details, and light blue across the toes. I had tried to think of other colour schemes for him, and black with some bright colour in a rocky pattern would also work, but the Iron Man colour theme was just more fun. If he wanted free socks, he would have to take them as I made them.

"Hi, doll." Steve came in, followed by Sam and Natasha. He gave my shoulder a squeeze and I leaned my head towards his hand. We were just a couple of days into our relationship and our sort of first date had been dinner on Christmas Day. It was still very new to us, even though we had known each other for a long time and had admitted to having feelings for a while too. He came around the couch and sat down next to me and the other two found seats around us.

"Hi," I greeted them, barely taking my eyes off the yarn. "Any luck with the new lead on Bucky's whereabouts?"

"It was a dead-end," Sam said. "False alarm."

I looked up at that, seeing Sam's and Natasha's disgruntled faces and Steve's defeated one. I nudged him with my shoulder, not wanting to say anything in front of the others, but letting him see in my eyes that I was hopeful. His lips twitched at one corner and he nudged me back.

"Has Tony seen what you're knitting for him yet?" Natasha asked, nodding at the half-done sock in my hands. I had reached the heel and was halfway through the knitting back and forth to make the base of the heel.

"Not yet," I replied, grinning slightly. "I haven't seen him since Christmas morning. He'll either hate it or love it."

"He'll love it. He'll probably want a matching pair to wear with his suit."

I snorted at the image that popped into my head, the Mark XLV with long, thick fluffy socks. "I might just make a pair for his suit, for fun."

Natasha, Sam and Steve started talking about the dead-end they had been sent on in their search for Bucky, I listened with one ear. But after a little bit, I noticed that Steve's attention had switched.

"I still want to learn." His voice was quiet, not speaking up, and I only heard him over the sound of the others talking because he was sitting next to me.

I turned to look at him, and he was staring down at the knitting in my hands, a small smile on his face and I smiled back. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. If you teach me."

My heart fluttered and my face heated up a little. "Okay. But you're smart and a fast learner, so you're not allowed to be better at this than me."

"I promise you will be the knitting master here, doll."

He had called me doll every now and then throughout the time we had known each other, on occasion he used it on others too, but there was something about the way he said it to me now that had me melt. I figured it was probably just my overactive imagination, but I didn't care, because I liked the way it made me feel.

"Okay. I got plenty of extra sets of needles and too much yarn in my room. You can help yourself to as much as you need. When do you want to get started?"

"Do you have time now?"

I nodded. "Come on."

It seemed the others had caught the gist of what we were doing, because as we stood up to leave, Sam called after us. "Try not to make knitting kinky!"

Teaching Steve to knit was as easy as I expected. By making small squares, I basically just taught him how to cast on and off, do knit and purl stitches, and how to change colour in less than an hour. It wasn't neat, it was crooked and knobbly, but he got the techniques perfectly. He also asked about the special kind of decreasing binding off I did for his mittens, and that's when I realised that he was up to something. And when he rummaged through my stash and picked skeins without letting me see which colours he picked, I knew he was most definitely up to something.

For the next couple of days, he spent more time in his room than usual and he never brought the knitting out for anyone to see. I had to admit I was awfully curious, and when he knocked on my door one late evening looking sheepish and asking if he could buy a few more skeins from me, I had to ask.

"You can pay me by telling me what you're making since it requires more yarn," I said, crossing my arms over my chest and looking at him with pursed lips.

There was a slight blush to his cheeks and he shook his head and reached for something in his back pocket. "It's done already. Now I just have to improve on it. But I can't tell you what it is yet," he said, opening his wallet.

"No, Steve. No." I put my hand on his wallet and pushed it away. "You can have as much yarn as you want. I'm just really curious."

He grinned and put his wallet back in his pocket very slowly as if I was going to change my mind and demand money anyway. "I will tell you. I promise. When it's done."

I pursed my lips again and pretended to consider him, but then I smiled and shook my head with amusement, walking over to the bed and kneeling down to pull out the box underneath it that was overflowing with yarn. "Help yourself." I sat down cross-legged on the bed and waited.

Steve looked at me. "You can't know which colour I'm – or colours – I'm going to pick."

"I'm so goddamn curious, but fine, I'll close my eyes. Just for you." I closed my eyes, and it was so hard to keep them closed as I heard Steve walk over and kneel down to rummage through the skeins and balls. He seemed to be taking his time and somehow, I knew he did it to mess with me, and I was just about to open my eyes and give him attitude, but then his lips were on mine. My eyes did snap open then, but he lingered and they closed again. All too soon he pulled back and I blinked dazedly. Having just started kissing him on the regular, each one still made my insides all fluttery and my brain fry.

When I was able to think straight again, I saw him standing there looking awfully smug, hands being his back. "That was for the yarn."

"Oh, well, then. Have all of it."

He chuckled and walked out, walking backwards out the door so I still couldn't see what colour he picked.

The next day, Steve and Sam headed out on a private mission. Steve had knocked on my door right before lunch, which we had planned to go out for, to tell me Sam had just got a promising lead on Bucky and they had to head out right away before it went cold but would be back the next day for New Year's Eve. Then he'd given me a kiss I felt all the way down to my toes and hurried off.

Seeing as I had long since finished Tony's socks and Iron Man's socks and the purple mittens I had promised Clint, I decided to take a break from knitting and joined Clint for a Christmas movie marathon.

We had made it through two movies before we ordered in dinner, which was brought up by Tony who had been heading in just as the delivery guy came. "You ordered dinner for me too?" he asked, opening one of the containers, two bags with the rest hanging from his wrist. "How lovely of you!"

"Uhm..." I started.

"That's just for the two of us," Clint said, getting to his feet with several groans and hurried to snatch the bags and the container from Tony while I went to find soda and water and plates and cutlery.

"Ouch." Tony clutched at his heart. "I paid for that TV and that couch and those plates. I can feel the love."

"I'm sure there's enough for you too, Tony," I said, even though my stomach was roaring like a ravenous grizzly bear.

"That's okay, I just ate."

There was something that sounded like a growl from Clint, but he handed one of the three plates I had brought over to Tony and the too helped himself.

Clint started up another Christmas movie and we dug into the containers that really held enough food to feed the entire team. It wasn't long before the smell of food attracted more people and Natasha sauntered into the room. She leaned over the couch and snatched an onion ring from my plate. She kept reaching for stuff on my plate, until I used my powers to create a barrier around it, not letting her through.

"Hey!" she protested.

"There's more food there," I said, pointing to the containers on the table. "And in the fridge."

She made a sound of annoyance but kept leaning over the back of the couch, watching the movie. After a few minutes, I felt her move away. "What's this?" she asked.

Tony, Clint and I all looked back, she had picked something off the floor. In her hand was... something fluffy. As she turned it around and held it up, I saw it was a pair of mittens. The knobbliest pair of mittens I had ever seen. But my heart had started to race a million miles a minute.

"Your earlier work?" Tony asked, frowning. I shook my head.

"I'm guessing Steve made these," Natasha said, handing them over to me.

I had to smile as I looked at them because they were really knobbly. The knit and purl stitches along the cuff were so lose I could probably fit two hands inside if I tried. They were in two my favourite colours, and the change of colour hadn't been done at the same stitch all the way up, so it was crooked, but the stripes were nicely sized and repeated in a way that would have made it a beautiful pair if the overall knitting had been better. The thumb seemed to be a bit tight, but it would expand with use. I was so proud that he had managed to leave a few stitches behind and then pick them up later and make the thumb. I had not taught him that.

"When did Steve learn to knit?" Clint asked.

"He asked me to teach him a few days ago."

"He's not really good at that, is he," Tony commented, grinning as he looked at the mittens.

"It's the first thing he's made," I said, defending him. "I think they're beautiful."

"He's got your favourite colours right at least," Clint commented.

I didn't reply, because my heart was beating so hard and I felt emotional and didn't trust my voice.

Tony and Clint quickly lost interest as there were some loud bangs from the movie we were watching. Natasha gave me a wink and then hurried over to her favourite armchair, rolled her eyes at the TV, but watched nonetheless.

I held the mittens in my hands, turning my attention back to the movie too. I couldn't wait for Steve to come home.

It had been a good lead on Bucky. It hadn't brought them to wherever he was currently hiding, but they were getting closer. The building they had searched, he had definitely been there for a short time.

Steve was pushing the Quinjet hard to get home. He had some knitting to get done before Stark's usual New Year's Eve party that evening. The first pair of mittens he had made had been a right disaster and were hopefully well on their way to a recycling facility by now. He had been sort of proud of the second pair as soon as he finished them. He knew they weren't good, but he'd been so proud and had been his way over to give them to his girlfriend when he had seen one of the pairs she had made him on the counter by the door and saw the difference and felt awful. So, he had gone to get more yarn instead. Hopefully, the third time was the charm.

He had some doubt to if he managed to knit an entire pair in barely a handful of hours, but it would not be from lack of trying.

Thankfully this hadn't been an official mission, so he didn't have to go through the tediousness that debriefing and medical and report writing was. Instead, he said goodbye to Sam and went straight to the shower.

Wet hair, but clean and dressed in clean comfortable clothes, Steve went to grab something to drink from the kitchen after the shower before he would start on the knitting. He itched to see his girlfriend first but knew that if he knocked on her door now, he wouldn't be able to leave in time to make the mittens. But on his way back to his room, he ran into her.

"Hi," she said, a huge grin on her face.

Steve pulled her towards him with his free hand on the small of her back and planted his lips to hers. "Hi," he whispered with a grin to match hers, leaning his forehead to hers.

"JARVIS said you were home. Was it a good lead?"

"Yeah, this one was a solid lead. Didn't find him, but we're closer."

"Good." She leaned in for another kiss while she slid her hands from his back and up his chest and that's when he noticed her hands were not bare.

Steve pulled back slightly and looked down and felt his face heat as he saw she was wearing the second pair of mittens he had made. "What's – How – Where did you..."

"Nat found them behind the couch yesterday. You made them?"

He took her hands in his and did some quick thinking, but settled on being straight with her. "Yeah. I wanted to make mittens for you too. But they're no good, so I was going to try again. I showed them to Sam before we left because I was so busy binding off when he called that I didn't answer right away. Guess I forgot about them." He was moving to pull them off her hands, but she snatched her hands away and put them under her arms so he couldn't get to them. "But they're no good. I was going to make another pair."

"I love them," she said firmly, staring up at him. Steve cocked his head, but she shook her head. "I love them more than any mittens I've ever had my entire life because you made them. If you take them from me, I will punch you."

Steve couldn't help chuckle, but he did not doubt for one second that she would indeed punch him and it would hurt like hell. "You're crazy."

"I just love a good pair of mittens." She stared so intently into his eyes as she said that, that Steve felt his heart skip a few beats.

"Okay," he said a bit breathlessly. "I'm still going to try to make a nicer pair for you. I was on my way to do that now."

"Then I'm coming with you. We can knit together." She started down the hall, Steve hurried after her.

"Don't you have to get ready for Stark's party?"

"It's hours away. Already have the dress and shoes picked out. Hair can do what it wants. Make-up takes 5 minutes. I'll be fine."

Steve didn't think he could be more head over heels for her, but then he stumbled a bit more.

<< Mittens Part 1

#wickedsingularity's christmas stories 2019 #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers x you #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #chris evans #chris evans x oc #chris evans x you #chris evans one shot #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fluff

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bowlegsandbiceps · 4 years ago

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Top 10 Favourite Characters

I was tagged by @not-a-natural-born-idjit and then flailed because they’re one of my absolute fave writers! (Seriously go to AO3 and read everything right now)

Rules: list your favorite character from 10 different fandoms and tag 10 people

1. Castiel | Supernatural I know I flail a lot about Dean and I love Dean’s face but Castiel is my #1. He’s fierce and brave and impatient and selfless. I don’t know how a being that’s been around for millenia can be innocent but he is. I like how messy he is, and he can be such an effective antagonist without being the big bad. Any friction he has with The Winchesters is from disagreeing on the right course of action and as viewers we can decide who to side with because both are inherently good. It’s their decisions that cause problems and that is a much more compelling narrative than “this thing is just evil.” I ship him with Dean (duh) but also Sam occasionally and I’d honestly love to see some Cas/Rowena action.

2. Hannibal Lecter | NBC Hannibal/Hannibal-verse Long before NBC decided to grace us with the absolute masterpiece that is Hannibal, I have loved this character. I think I was 14 or 15 when I fell down the Thomas Harris rabbit hole and I’ve yet to find a more perfectly crafted psychopath. He’s so refined that you really can believe that no one would suspect him of being the Chesapeake Ripper. His crimes are heinous and many without feeling sensationalized. Harris was originally a crime reporter which I think gave him the ability to ground Hannibal in reality. I really liked how the TV show fleshed out the main points that in the books Clarice Starling and Will Graham continually have to remind people of which is that he does these things to amuse himself. It was really amazing to watch him set up the dominos and then stand back to let everyone else knock them all down. I ship him with Clarice or Alaina mainly but I LOVE me some murder!husbands. It’s the slowest of burns and I will bask in those flames forever.

3. Malcolm Bright | Prodigal Son First of all Tom Payne okay. Second of all, poor, sweet damaged Malcolm. I really like that he has that rich kid air about him but it’s super subtle. He’s obviously very damaged by his father (Martin Whitley is a good example of one of those over the top “legendary” killer characters, though Michael Sheen’s performance REALLY goes a long way to making that believable) and the show doesn’t make his mental illness the forefront of his character. Malcolm works and visits his family and occasionally dates very similarly to any other main character but he’s doing all these things with severe PTSD, anxiety and depression. He’s always portrayed as upbeat and determined to push through any handicaps his mental health issues might cause. There are also times when he can’t and those are shown not by concerned family and friends banding together to throw him in a treatment center but it’s usually him, white-knuckling through it or attempting to work it out on his own which is another extremely realistic portrayal of how people deal with trauma and depression. I ship him with OFC because he and Dani have ZERO chemistry (I’m sorry Brightwell people). I like the IDEA of him and Edrissa but no one is writing it and I can’t even really get MY head around how to write it so I feel this serious urge to PUT HIM WITH SOMEBODY but there’s not been anyone on the show I’ve seen him have real chemistry with yet.

4. Tyrion Lannister | Game of Thrones I love Tyrion so much. I love him so much I named my cat after him. I loved him so much that I lived in CONSTANT. FEAR. that GRRM was going to kill him off at any moment. I like that despite everyone always thinking the worst of him he still does his best and not even with any intention of proving anyone wrong. He plays into their expectations with the booze and women but deep down he’s got a drive to be fair and especially kind to anyone who’s on the receiving end of pain and humiliation that are undeserved. He’s also fierce and clever enough to deliver crushing judgement and justice when deserved whether its through setting the wheels in motion or wielding the crossbow himself. I ship him with Sansa, shut up I know I just love the idea of them growing to love each other despite the rocky start.

5. Hermione Granger | Harry Potter HP was my first real brush with fandom. Like I’d been a Justin Timberlake fangirl since I was 12 and despite his level of fame the fandom was very small. When I started the series at 17 the breadth of content available was staggering. You could literally find ANY combination of ships you could fathom and it all ran the gamut from fluffy to downright depraved. I also find it interesting that while I like Hermione as a character in the books/movies she is far from my favorite character but she’s literally the only character I stan in the fanfic world of HP. I mainly shipped Hermione with Draco or Snape (forgive me I know it was a simpler time where we ignored everything problematic with certain kinks and narratives) and sometimes Harry. She’s such a strong female character that no matter who you pair her with the dynamic is going to be different and complex.

6. Peeta Mellark | The Hunger Games While I relate to Katniss on a very personal level, the boy with the bread absolutely fuels my little fangirl heart. The pining from a young age. The complete disregard for his own safety or survival in the games. Selfless and just good to the core, his subsequent torture by the Capitol and Katniss’ carelessness with his feelings is like taking blow after blow. And when they strip his loyalty to Katniss and his district away it’s even more tragic because he was just this sweet kid who had a crush. UGH feels. I ship him with Katniss. I just really can’t see him with anyone else.

7. Alexander Hamilton | Hamilton THIS was one where i just identify SO. HARD. with Hamilton. While I definitely didn’t endure a childhood like his, I did end up transitioning from a blue collar upbringing to a white collar career and experience the same chip on my shoulder and drive to prove myself. And I too write like I am running out of time. I ship him with his wife or maybe Angelica a little.

8. Persephone | Greek Mythology Not sure if there’s a “fandom” for this persay but Tumblr went through a phase in the early 10s where there was a ton of meta about Persephone and how her narrative as a damsel stolen by Hades didn’t do her justice. The flipped the script and made her Queen of Hell, powerful enough to sway the God of Death and terrifying enough to keep him in line unlike all the other Gods that were sticking their dick in anyone and anything. It’s such an empowering narrative, a girl taken from everything she’s ever known seizes the opportunity to become a force to be reckoned with. I love it.

9. Gregory House | House M.D. I was going to say Sherlock here but I never really went hard for Sherlock either the movies or the BBC show. I loved the show but really more for the canon and meta which is only half the fandom life. With House, I just love that he is so unapologetically hateful to anyone he deems stupid. But he’s also earnest and good too with a heavy dollop of man pain... you know... my favorite *cough*Dean Winchester*cough* I ship him pretty exclusively with Cameron beacuse I really like the dynamic. Her hero worship/white knight complex his emotional constipation but fondness of her optimism and ideals. Great dynamic.

10. Edward Cullen | Twilight This is my favorite Trash Monkey character in my favorite trash monkey series. The books are horribly written, the movies are better but not by much. But goddammit something about his level of obsessive fuckery speaks to my girl lizard brain and I am just rooting for this sparkly idiot and his clumsy human jar of mayonnaise. I ship him and Bella because apparently the universe didn’t find the fact that he’s my favorite character in this series humiliating enough.

Tagging (please don’t feel obligated to participate if you don’t want to): @navajolovesdestiel @chevrolangels @cas-you-assbutt-dean-needs-you @castielific @rauko-is-a-free-elf @astral-almighty @only4myfandoms @ charlie-bradburi @notfunnydean @blowthatpieceofjunk

#GUYS SOMEONE ACTUALLY TAGGED ME!!!#GUYS!!!#about me

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sunreliable-archive · 5 years ago

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some notes on albus potter:

first and foremost, he does go pretty exclusively by al. the only people who habitually call him albus are his teachers when he’s at school, his parents when he’s in trouble and his brother when he’s purposefully trying to annoy him.

on the topic of his older brother, their relationship is a complex thing !! the first layer being that james is a golden boy and al always ... felt like he was living in his shadow. james has a huge presence and as such al felt often like he melted into the background without meaning to. james was ... not as kind as he could’ve been to al when they were in hogwarts together. it wasn’t that he was intentionally malicious, james teases a lot and sometimes took it too far and al didn’t find it as funny as he did. that’s difficult for al to entirely let go of, but on the other end that stopped being so much of an issue as they got older. additionally, as much as he teased, there was not a single time growing up where al needed his brother’s help that james didn’t show up. he’s the guy who made him feel bad for no reason a lot, but he’s also someone who protected him without blinking. it’s rocky sometimes, but they love each other !!

though al does feel a lot of weight on his shoulders of a huge legacy, he doesn’t have a bad relationship with either of his parents. his most strained familial relationship is james, and even that is just complicated and still rooted in a lot of love. he’s a little closer to his dad than his mom, though.

al is an introvert in a family of extroverts. he’s very soft spoken, and very warm, and very kind 99% of the time !! he’s easy to irritate if you know the exact buttons to push, though. (read as: james) and he’s snappy if he’s irritated. he was / is fairly popular at hogwarts, but he attributes a lot of it to a role as harry potter and ginny weasley’s son, and james potter’s brother, than who he is as a person.

up until al was about fifteen he felt very .. directionless, by way of career and his life after hogwarts. james was about to graduate and already had almost a promised position in playing professional quidditch, and that added another level of living up to do that was already high because of who their parents are.

magic did not come easy to him !! he comes from two very powerful bloodlines, but it was just ... harder for him to control and pick up. he’s a very skilled wizard in later adolescence and adulthood only because he would’ve dropped off the face of the planet before being the potter kid that couldn’t do magic right. as such, he practiced all the time when he was younger, and practice makes perfect.

he never got into quidditch. he knows how to play and will participate with little reluctance in family games, but never tried for the slytherin team. attending hogwarts quidditch games was a lot because 9/10 times someone in his family was on both sides. he usually rooted for both and called it a win either way. [ not pictured : al in the stands wearing a scarf charmed to change colors to whichever team is presently winning ]

al is gay !! he’s not new in town !! he holds a lot of fear that people only like him because of the family he comes from and that makes it hard for him to form romantic connections sometimes !! he’s sort of known for a while, but when he really formally came to terms with it he was fourteen and it was difficult because keeping quiet about it to his family, specifically, was a bad feeling !! the thought of making an announcement also made him want to puke !! james had already come out at that time, so he knew it would be okay but there was always a what if sort of fear in the back of his head. ultimately, he tells his brother and sister first, on a quiet night that summer where they’re all hanging out in his bedroom. he tells his parents the following week over spaghetti. everyone else just has to find out on their own !!

because of the aforementioned quiet disposition, it was a pretty big surprise when he came out of fifth year having decided to go into auror training after hogwarts and become an auror. a lot of thought went into it though !! al feels a very strong need to do something that feels meaningful. he wanted to feel like he was making a difference. additionally, no matter how accepting his family was and always has been, he’s always felt like he had something to prove. that was also heightened by being sorted into slytherin.

i imagine a few people suspected his auror idea would be short lived, but he has that slytherin ambition !! he was set on it and nothing could change his mind. he did, in fact, go on to be accepted into the auror training program and became an auror. i think even as he gets older anyone meeting him through work is surprised by how gentle he is. similarly, anyone meeting him outside could be surprised by his job.

james moved out one year before al did, but when al was looking for places in wizarding london he mentioned there was a place for rent right next door. al ended up renting there, and though he’s always said it was just a nice place, he’d been around family for a long time and it was and is comforting to still have someone close by.

regardless of his faceclaim al has a lot of freckles !!

not a portrayal thing just a general note that default wise will likely go to post - hogwarts, but i’ll have a verse for his hogwarts years for anyone who wants it !!

finally, not cursed child compliant !! at all !!

#ˋ ♡ headcanon › albus potter.#OK #ill add more later maybe but #im happy with these vibes

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faithhudson · 4 years ago

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Let Them Eat Cake

Tagging: Faith Hudson and Evan Hummel

Date: September 17

Bingo: Domestic Scene (Faith), Eat Cake during a scene (Evan), Kiss 3 People (Evan)

Summary: A butcher, a baker, and an orgasm maker

Evan

Evan was actually looking forward to doing this scene with Faith. It would be their first actual scene and even though it was a Domestic scene, it was still something that felt like an important moment. It was actually better that it was a domestic scene for this event because if they were questioned, it wouldn't be that odd that they had done something non-sexual in order to gain some points, especially not now that the two of them were actually getting along.

Faith

Scening, as obvious as the statement sounded, was very different than fucking. Fucking, Fae knew how how to do. She was well-versed in the mechanics and psychology, and she'd already learned a lot about what Evan liked and what she didn't. A scene was something completely different. Aside from one other person, she didn't scene. Not because she didn't want it - she thought, at least - but simply because the level of trust involved was so much higher. Despite their rocky past, though, she did trust Evan. And that would have to be enough. Stepping up to her door, Fae knocked firmly and tried not to fidget as she waited.

Evan

Hearing the knock on the door, Evan opened it up. "Hey, you. Come on in." She closed the door behind Faith and then pressed a brief kiss to her lips to hopefully ease any nerves that she was dealing with. "We're going to move into the living room and I'm going to have you kneel for me, okay? You're with me and you're safe. And everything is going to be really simple today." There were just certain things that needed to be done for Evan to feel like it could truly be considered a scene.

Faith

Fae leaned into the kiss, smiling as she pulled away. Her pulse raced for just a moment at the request to kneel, but she'd agreed to the scene and wanted to do everything she could to help Evan get a bingo. If she was going to play the submissive role then she needed to behave appropriately, and that added a few responsibilities to the scene. "Yes, Miss," she nodded, wanting Evan to be titled the way she deserved. "Understood." Following her into the living room, Fae knelt on the carpet and waited.

Evan

She felt a shiver move up her spine when Fae called her 'Miss' and she hummed. It was different, certainly, but there had been a lot of differences that had happened since they both arrived at the institute. "Good girl." Evan said with a smile. "So I have a cake recipe sitting in the kitchen. Your job today is to bake that cake, decorate it, and then clean up the kitchen. Once you have completed all of that, you are going to come sit here with me and feed me the piece of cake."

Faith

Fae's eyes widened a little. She'd cooked for Madeline, but they'd usually done that together and she'd had someone to help her read the recipe to remind her of what she was meant to be doing at any given moment. "I...can do that, Miss," she nodded. "But it might be a bit slow. It takes me a bit to go back and forth between reading the recipe and actually doing the thing. I do understand the order, though, and I'm happy to do it, I just wanted to warn you first."

Evan

"That's alright, Fae. I'm not in any rush. I want you to take your time. As long as you do your best, I am going to be extremely happy with you." Evan knew that it would probably be a bit of a challenge for the other Switch, but she very much hoped that it wouldn't be something that frustrated Faith too much.

Faith

It was still an odd sensation, doing a scene where she submitted to Evan and sought her approval. Fae was getting used to the idea, but it was still new. "I can do that," she promised. "I'll do my best, Miss. Would you like me to go and get started now, Miss?" Fae assumed so, but she didn't want to try and guess what Evan was thinking or she would likely mess the scene up.

Evan

"Go ahead, Fae. If you have any questions, you can come and ask me. I'll be right here waiting." She lifted her legs onto the couch and curled up into a comfortable postion as she read through some of the school work.

Faith

"Gotcha," Fae nodded, getting up and heading for the kitchen. She knew she was going to struggle, but it was good to know that all Evan was really expecting from her was an effort. As long as it was edible - there was no way it was going to look pretty, but she wanted it to be good enough to feed Ev without killing her or something. The recipe wasn't that many steps, and Ev had already left out the cake pan and a mixing bowl for her. She turned the oven on to the right temperature to allow it to preheat, starting the mix with the eggs and slowly adding one ingredient at a time as she went back and forth between the recipe and the ingredients. "Uh...shit," she scoffed as the oven finished heating up long before she was done getting everything ready. "Crap, crap." She checked the list again and turned the mixer on hoping that she hadn't forgotten anything important.

Evan

She heard Faith cursing to herself in the kitchen and she bit down on her bottom lip. Part of her wanted to just rush right in, but the other part of her knew that it was important if the Switch finished it herself and was able to come ask her for help if she truly needed it. She didn't want to just bombard her or make her feel like she thought that she was incompetent. She did her best to keep focusing on the school work, but was too enraptured by the other's movements.

Faith

As the mixer did its thing, or at least what she hoped was its thing, Fae checked the ingredient list again. One thing after another she could check off, looking between the bowl and the list, although there was a pinch of sugar that she'd apparently been meant to throw in and hadn't. It annoyed her to be so poor at following a set of instructions, but as long as it didn't affect the overall product too much she'd be alright. When the cake batter looked at least somewhat like it was described, she poured it into the pan and then opened the oven to slide it in. Moving back into the kitchen she knelt at Ev's feet again. "That needs fifteen minutes, if you don't mind keeping track for me, Miss." She knew she'd forget it otherwise. "Then I'll decorate it after."

Evan

She smiled down at the Switch when she mentioned that it would need fifteen minutes. "Good girl." She pulled out her phone and set the timer before her attention turned back to the other. She was proud of her for asking her for the help and for coming to kneel in front of Evan when she had the time to do so. She reached out and dragged her fingers against the other's jaw gently.

Faith

There was still tension in Fae's slight frame, mainly because she had no idea whether she'd screwed something up or not. Cooking was a mystery to her because at some point you just had to put things in the oven and hope they weren't a total mess when they came out again. The praise helped, though, and the fingers along her jawline made her shiver. "If you're going to touch me like that, Miss," she emphasized the title, "you've only got fifteen minutes to follow up on it."

Evan

Evan giggled at her words and then tapped her finger lightly against her bottom lip. "Only if you beg me well enough." The Switch stated, shrugging her shoulders slightly and leaning back to see what Faith would do in this instance, because Evan couldn't really say. This was new territory for them at this point.

Faith

Fae almost choked. They'd been closer lately, sure, and they'd had really good sex, but this...this was a new frontier. Could she submit to Evan that way and be comfortable? Would they feel the same about each other when it was done? How awkward was parent's week going to be, anyway? The shiver that had went through her, though, had landed right between her legs. And if she needed to beg to get that itch scratched, well, she'd done far worse than beg in the past for far less. Looking up into Ev's eyes, she swallowed her pride. "I...please, Miss? Please will you get me off while we wait for cake?"

Evan

Evan smiled, in surprise, when the other did beg. She honestly had been expecting Faith to just let everything go and she was pleased to see that that wasn't the case. She laid down on the couch and gestured for Faith to carefully settle over her face. "Get naked and get your ass over here, gorgeous." Evan expressed, eager to taste Faith once again, she certainly hadn't gotten enough of that in the last little while.

Faith

There wasn't any telling what the future held, but damned if she wasn't happy about the present. "Yes, Miss," she winked, stripping down and climbing up to straddle Evan's face. If begging made the feeling of warm breath against her sex happen then that was enough for her.

Evan

Her tongue brushed along the Faith's folds and she moaned softly. "Maybe I'll just tease you until the cake is ready, I certainly wouldn't complain about just slowly tasting you for the next thirteen minutes." Her hands slipped up to wrap around her thighs and she drew her down slowly to suck her lips into her mouth,

Faith

Fae groaned, her head falling back a little. "If you do that, Miss, I will not be held responsible for what gets written on your cake." As she was pulled down and Evan went to work on her she put all other thoughts out of her head. The damn cake could start on fire, roll down the hall and end up in the Headmistress' office for all she cared. So long as Evan kept teasing her.

Evan

She laughed against her. "I'll be looking forward to seeing how incredibly creative you can be." Evan muttered gently, circling her clit with her tongue before then going back to simply running her tongue through the wetness. She was too invested in the idea of only teasing Evan for the entire time, so that's what she was going to do.

Faith

Fae's eyes narrowed at that, because there was only one way to interpret what Evan was saying. And if that way were accurate, then she actually did plan on teasing her for the entire...however long was left. "I don't think," she gasped, "I'd be a good...fuck...submissive...if I said the words to you that are in my head right now. I should have known...you were evil."

Evan

She giggled. "I'm not evil. As long as you're good you're going to get quite an amazing orgasm and you will end up very satisfied. You just need to be good." She muttered, before focusing all her attention on flicking her tongue against her clit. The timer went off a while later and Evan frowned in response, but pulled back anyway. "Better go check on that cake."

Faith

If she hadn't been busy moaning, Fae would have scoffed. Instead she made a series of noises that began as arousal and turned into something close to agony by the time the damnable timer interrupted them. "Fuck," she groaned, not bothering with clothes and padding into the kitchen naked. The cake was...less of a disaster than she'd imagined. It hadn't risen properly and looked flat, but when she poked it with a fork it actually looked cooked and kind of the texture it was supposed to be. She added some icing around the edge and some sprinkles before using the icing to write LICK ME in huge letters in the middle. Grabbing a fork and setting it on a plate, she knelt for Evan one more time.

Evan

Evan couldn't help but laugh at the words that were written on the cake. "Good job on the cake. It actually looks pretty good, babe." She cut a piece and then set the rest of it aside. "Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to eat this cake. While I'm eating the cake, you are going to edge yourself. If you cum, you're gonna get spanked and then have to watch me fuck myself. If you don't, then I'll fuck you with my strap. Understood?"

Faith

"That's nice of you to say," Fae chuckled. It looked more like a pie or something given how it had failed to rise, but at least Evan was kind enough not to mention it. Evan's next words made her let out a strangled cry. "And then you have the nerve to tell me you're not evil. I only hope you eat quickly, Miss." With a put-upon sigh her fingers wandered between her legs and began to work at her clit.

Evan

She laughed softly again, enjoying the words and sounds coming from the other. She was so pretty when she touched herself and Evan was going to need to see this a lot more often. "Good girl." She took her first bite of the cake and hummed. It wasn't the best cake ever, but it also was far from the worst one she had ever had. "Good job, Fae." She then got back to the cake, being nice and eating at a fairly steady pace.

Faith

There was worry etched on her face as Evan took her first bite, because there was every possibility that a horrified expression and a run to the bathroom was going to follow. When it didn't, she actually felt a little proud of herself even if the cake wasn't perfect. "Thank you, Miss." Evan didn't seem completely determined to make her insane, so Fae kept her fingers moving at a steady pace.

Evan

She watched Faith the entire time that she ate the cake, unable to pull her eyes away from her. She was so damn attractive. And to know that she was touching herself just because Evan had ordered it of her? Perfect. Halfway through the cake she stopped eating to speak. "Quicker. And be more firm." She uttered, before returning her attention to the cake.

Faith

Faith's mutterings would have turned the air blue in a Navy bar when Evan admonished her, because her whole plan to take it easy on herself had been foiled. "Fuck," she groaned as her fingers worked over her clit. "Fuck," it was more of a plea the second time as her body fought for something she didn't want to give it. It was enjoyable, even if she did have the urge to poke Evan with a cake fork.

Evan

When she finished the cake, she set down her fork. "Stop touching yourself. You have done well. But now you have to go finish cleaning up the kitchen. When you've done that, then you can come ahead and meet me in the bedroom." Evan uttered, walking into the bedroom and removing her clothing to pull the harness on. She was very, very excited for the way that the rest of their night would go.

Faith

Fae pulled her hand away with great effort, chest heaving and breath coming in quick, uneven gasps. "You've gotta be kidding me...Miss," she whined. It wasn't enough that she'd had to edge herself, now she had to go finish the cleaning? With a sigh she went about her work, dumping the rest of the cake onto a plate before noisily doing up the dishes.

Evan

She could hear Fae in the kitchen, being very, very noisy and she couldn't help but giggle. It made her feel very powerful in that moment that Fae was wet, needy, and yet stomping around the kitchen to finish and order that Evan had given her.

Faith

Fae left everything to air dry, because fuck if she was going to dry the dishes while she was practically dripping on the floor, especially with Ev in the bedroom. The job was close enough to done, and she marched into the bedroom expectantly. "All cleaned up. Miss."

Evan

She smiled at her and then gestured for her to come and sit on her lap. "You've been good. So now you get your reward."

#c: evan #thread: let them eat cake #bingo20

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vensoul · 5 years ago

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So.. I’m kinda gonna do this 40 question for writers thingy because I’m bored and I think it’ll be fun!

Gonna tag.. @erenaeoth ok let’s gooo

Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic: I stay in the mlm realm typically. I like writing slow burns and long stories but sometimes I’ll cook up a one shot

Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to? : I really really wanna write a kinda forbidden love story but I don’t know how many people are down to read about internal and external homophobia :/

Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole? A/B/O never.

How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?: I have so many fic ideas bro. I really really really wanna write a Shane/Rick slow burn but I have too many slow burns already

Share one of your strengths. I like angst?

Share one of your weaknesses. Not very good at making people cry

Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it. Viktor knows the cause of his father’s pain. Supposedly, Balboa, Creed, and Drago were at a party celebrating Balboa’s win again. And it was great for awhile, before some guy tried to pick a fight with Creed. Drago had to break up the fight, and not too long after he had stopped it, Creed was stabbed. So there Ivan was, staring at Apollo desperately trying to stay alive. He could recite every detail. Hand on his bleeding abdomen, the blood running from out of his mouth. Balboa trying to get somebody to help them, yet nobody would help. Apollo’s last words, everything. His friend died in his arms, and it messed with him. In more ways than he could explain, he couldn’t even eat for awhile.

Okay, so I was experimenting with an idea for Rocky and I guess I’m proud of the fact that I can be creative with the way I can bend timelines?

Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it. The two of them locked eyes with each other, Rambo only began to get more nervous than he already was. Neither of them were sure what to say, there wasn’t much to talk about. Neither of them wanted to talk, they barely knew each other. But, assuming that the conversation didn’t have to be about the war, Austrian vet scratched his facial hair, before sitting up straight.

“What’s going through your mind?”

His Austrian accent was probably thicker than the hair on John’s head. John sat in silence for a moment, what was going through his mind? Could he find anything else that wasn’t related to a painful experience? Anything at all?

”Blank.”

John probably spoke for the first time in days, and the change in his voice even surprised him a little. The best way the Austrian vet would describe it, there was not a shred of hope in his voice.

I’m proud because it’s stallonezenegger I love Arnold and Sly they are so 😌💕💕💕

Which fic has been the hardest to write? Warmth.. I’m not straight so writing wlw is kinda hard bc i’m not rlly invested in it?

Which fic has been the easiest to write? Theraputic, Fighting Spirit. Anything with Arnold or Sly or any of my other faves really..

Is writing your passion or just a fun hobby? For me it’s both! I’m passionate about writing but it’s something I do bc it’s a rlly fun hobby for me uwu

Is there an episode above all others that inspires you just a little bit more? Episode? Not really but I guess Rocky has changed me a bit 🤠

What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across? My friends suggest that I try to be more descriptive.

What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across? None so far

If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose? Please film Fighting Spirit, sly please Adonis and Viktor are dating

If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be? Sly and Arnold..

Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order? From start to finish, I didn’t know you could write any other way.

Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines? I sometimes use notes to keep track of the plot so I don’t forget it

Stephen King once said that his muse is a man who lives in the basement. Do you have a muse? No?

Describe your perfect writing conditions. At night alone or in a dark place 💕

How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting? No.. not always.

Choose a passage from one of your earlier fics and edit it into your current writing style. (Person sending the ask is free to make suggestions). Do I really wanna do that? In another post.

If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why? A fic I deleted called new home, it was a fic where Kano was a dad with kids and yea it was crazy

Have you ever deleted one of your published fics? Mmhm, I deleted the Kano as a dad fic, then I deleted a Kano/Terminator fic and i don’t even know why I wrote that but it’s funny, then I accidentally deleted a letter John wrote to the T-800. So yeah.

What do you look for in a beta? ...A bottom??

Do you beta yourself? If so, what kind of beta are you? I’m verse but we’re not ready for that conversation.

How do you feel about collaborations? Depends?? But I’m open to it.

Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much. AAA @erenaeoth @badbessie and someone on ao3 but idk if he has tumblr. They’re stories always keep me interested, and they’re everything I wanna be in a writer and I just 😭

If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose? yo.. lemme write a sequel to this Viktor/Adonis fic called trust fall. BRO

Do you accept prompts? I don’t just accept them, I need them.

Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant? I will do some things with canon compliant if it benefits the plot idea I have but all my fics are usually set in AUs. Kinda?

How do you feel about smut? I well.. it’s hard for me to write bc I just.. embarassment. It’s slightly hard for me to read to bc it’s like hhh bro i just wanted y’all to cuddle

How do you feel about crack? It can be funny as fuck the less sense it makes

What are your thoughts on non-con and dub-con? I mean.... i’m very touchy about it. Maybe if it was used correctly and it was for a plot then yea. But if someone is genuinely into it it’s like... ur into a federal crime sir.

Would you ever kill off a canon character? I have... and I’d do it again

Which is your favorite site to post fic? AO3, can’t imagine posting anywhere else really. WELL, tumblr maybe.

Talk about your current wips. Currently working on a Rocky/Apollo oneshot, then after I finish that I’m making Florian/Masias. It’s crazy

Talk about a review that made your day. Ughh anytime somebody compliments my writing 🥺

Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them? I haven’t gotten one yet! Haha only criticism. I’ll listen to what they have to say, then use what they say to try and better my writing

Write an alternative ending to Theraputic.

..... in another post doe 👀

#sylvester stallone #arnold schwarzenegger #adonis creed #apollo creed #rambo #florian munteanu #rocky balboa #40 writing questions #prompts #something fun something for the summertime something for the girls to y’know get ready to party to

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side-effect-of-the-meds · 5 years ago

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Erin and Ania are like holy fuck I can’t even. But for real Neil sees Abby as a mother figure in the book so like is it the same for Ania? Andrew too? Idek I just need to know their relationships with everyone

It’s time I map out their relationships anyways lol so thanks, love!

Let’s start with the lovely Ania

Dan, Allison, and Ania are roommates. It’s tough after Seth’s death bc Ania has to face her all the time. Erin tells Allison her theory too so Allison is avoiding Ania so :////

Dan is essentially what Matt was to Neil. She sees Ania and her first thought is ‘baby’. She adopts her so fast. Every morning before class, she’ll pinch Ania’s cheeks and kiss her fingers, chef-style Idk man. It’s just something my mom does to me ok. Let me be soft.

Renee rooms with Erin so Ania isn’t comfortable with her. Anyone that can spend the night in a room with that girl has to be hardcore.

Allison also gives Ania a lot of shit about her wardrobe. At some point it starts to get to her so when the monsters head to the mall, Erin catches Ania drifting towards the girl’s section on her own. She’s high so she follows her around, prodding her about it. When Ania tells her, there’s this moment where Erin’s drug haze parts for a second. Ania could have sworn that she saw anger flashing in Erin’s eyes for half a second. She shrugs it off until Allison shows up at the dorms with a bruise on her jaw. Erin knows Ania hides her body bc scars and bc she doesn’t like men staring at her. She refuses to let Allison shame Ania into doing something she doesn’t want to. In general, Allison and Ania have a rocky relationship because Erin keeps interfering. After Christmas, the two of them end up getting along a lot better bc they bond while Allison covers Ania’s bruises with makeup. Also after Christmas, Ania and Renee trade dorms so she and Allison aren’t in constant contact. Part of their friction was due to the amount of time they spent together. A lot of things have happened to Allison this year and the fact that she constantly has to see the source of a lot of her problems makes it hard for her to heal.

I’ve considered Fem!Nicky but I personally prefer Gay/Lesbian solidarity between him and Erin a lot better so yeah (However if you want me to run a few Fem!Nicky hcs, hmu and I’ll do it. She won’t be a part of the fem!verse but it would be fun). He’s exactly the way he is in canon. However, he is constantly trying to set Ania and Erin up and Erin? Doesn’t? Stop? Him? She’s so desperately in love with Ania that if Nicky wingmanning for her is what it takes to win her over, then she’ll take it. She also has a really dirty sense of humor. The jokes he makes fuel her late-night fantasies.

Aaron is disgusted with Nicky and, more importantly, himself. Ania is incredibly beautiful and he’s incredibly straight. He doesn’t like her bc he’s so gone for Katelyn. That doesn’t make Ania any less pretty. He finds himself staring at her all the time but so does every other fox so he doesn’t feel bad.

Katelyn thinks Ania is hot. She’s bi but leans heavily towards guys. It takes Aaron a long time to unlearn his homophobia but he manages it because Katelyn is bi and he couldn’t possibly hate anything about her. Once Riko is gone and Ania is safe, she starts to develop feelings. I mean, she always had feelings but now she doesn’t try to suppress them. She lets herself want to be friends with people. Katelyn happens to be at the top of her list. While the twins are with Bee at their sessions, Katelyn and Ania hang out. Sessions are only an hour/hour and a half long so the girls just grab a soda together or go window shopping in Reddin. I hc Katelyn as a genuinely sweet VSCO girl. Let me have this! Ania has a grunge/goth aesthetic because Erin buys her clothes for her but she thinks Katelyn’s clothes are cute too. Erin wants to hate the thousands of scrunchies and anklets she finds strewn across the dorm but they make Ania so happy. Once on a double date, on Bee’s insistence, Katelyn catches sight of a bubblegum pink scrunchie in Erin’s hair. It’s a stark contrast to her all-black outfit but it’s really cute. When Aaron goes to grab their drinks from the barista, Katelyn tells her so making sure to stay well out of Erin’s reach. Erin just grunts and turns to look out the window. The twins don’t blush with their whole face. Instead, their ears turn red. With Erin’s hair pulled up and out of the way, Katelyn has no trouble seeing her burning red ears. It’s progress!

Ania spends a lot more time out at Evermore as a kid than Neil did. As a result, she was really close to Kevin and Riko. She only knew Jean for like a month before she dipped. I got a request for Fem!Jean so you’ll see Ania’s relationship with Jeanie soon. Kevin sees her as a baby sister. He and Kayleigh were actually at the hospital when Ania was born. There’s a baby photo back at Kayleigh’s old house of 3yr old Kevin carrying a newborn Ania. He’s crying rivers in it. There’s an actual video of it as well. In it, Kay asks him why he’s crying. “She’s sho shmall!” little Kevin sobs. “Can I keep her? Pleashe, mom. I’ll be nice to her and take care of her and I’ll tell her I love her all the time.” You can hear someone laughing in the background. The camera pans across the room to reveal Wymack sitting in a chair by the door, cackling

TANGENT BUT I WANT TO TALK ABOUT WYMACK FOR A MINUTE! So Wymack and Kay are friends with some obvious benefits. He flips his shit when Kevin is born because what if that’s his kid??? Kay is just like, I was with a lot of guys and brushes it off. She’s lying through her teeth. Wymack is the only man she’s ever loved. Tetsuji is salty and I will go into this in another post but I think that Tetsuji really hated Kevin because he was Kay’s son but not his. I absolutely believe that Tetsuji was in love with Kayleigh Day and was pissed when she had a kid. Anyway, Wymack flies out to Ireland a lot to check up on Kay and Kevin because Kay is crazy. How could the inventor of exy not be? It’s literally murder lacrosse. He goes out to make sure Kay isn’t overworking herself and bc Kev has no father figure. Kev grows up knowing Wymack and absolutely adores him. When Kay dies, Wymack wants custody of Kevin. Kay knows who the Moriyamas are and recently she and Tetsuji have been fighting a lot. She’s scared that something is going to happen to her so she writes her will and emphasizes that she wants her son sent to Wymack if she dies. Her fight with Tetsuji comes to a head and the car ‘accident’ happens. It’s not an accident. Tetsuji ordered her killed in a fit of rage. He’s devastated when it actually happens. He loved her and now she’s dead. Well, who’s fault is that, ya dumb bish? He flies out for the funeral and so does Wymack. Tetsu finds the will first and is anger. He has it burned and has Nathan forge a new one where he gets custody of Kev. It breaks Wymack’s heart bc now he thinks Kay didn’t want him around Kev. Kevin is five and he’s crying because his mom is dead and now he can’t live with Wymack. He calls Wymack Dad and Wymack can’t do anything about this. Instead, he just hugs little Kev close and tells him it’ll be okay. Wymack tells Kev that Tetsu has a niece his age. Maybe Kev and Riko can be friends. Maybe they’ll even get married. Kevin says that’s disgusting and Wymack laughs a hollow laugh. Anyway, that’s how Kev gets shipped to Evermore. Tetsu doesn’t allow Wymack near Kev bc he knows the truth. The reason why Wymack always has a sports channel on because he used to keep it on in case Kev ever showed up. He watched every one of Kev’s games and interviews and everything. Wymack doesn’t get to be there to watch Kev grown up so he just watched from a distance. I'm not crying you are.

Wymack is a father figure to Ania and Erin. He’s there when Ania is born bc he went to visit Kay and Kev who were in Baltimore to meet baby Nathania. Kay carts him out to the hospital to meet her too. Nathan Wesninski was not in the room when his daughter was born. He doesn’t even meet her until she’s six months old. Wymack is the first man Nathania meets and she doesn’t even know. Mary didn’t want to hand Nathania over to Wymack but she and Kay are friends and she knows that he’s her baby daddy. Wymack doesn’t recognize Ania because he only knew her for a month when she was a newborn. Of course he doesn’t recognize her. However, he thinks about her a lot. She’s actually the first baby he’s ever held. He didn’t get to hold Kevin until he was two. Wymack treats Ania the same way he treats Neil but he puts in a bit of extra care bc he knows about Millport incident.

Abby is definitely as much of a mom figure as she was to Neil. However, after she shows her her scars, Ania gets a lot closer to her. She refuses to tell her things but when Erin gets sent to Easthaven, Ania has a hard time staying at the dorms. She spends all her time at the court bc she has to. She hides in the library bc it’s the one place she wouldn’t see Erin anyways. She crashes at Abby’s a few times because there are times she can’t stand the thought of going back to the dorms without feeling the brush of Erin’s hand on the back of her neck.

Oh. That’s a thing. Every night after midnight practice n Kev has gone to his room, Ania says goodnight to Erin. Erin will trail her hand across the back of Ania’s neck as she passes in response. It makes Ania shiver because her neck is as much of an erogenous zone as Erin’s is. Erin always watches it out of the corner of her eye bc God it’s the most amazing thing she’s ever seen. It makes her feel. Ania doesn’t really realize???? She’s so dumb. She knows it makes her feel good but she just can’t for the life of her figure out why.

It’s time I addressed the real psycho lesbian… While Erin’s is a facade, Riko is genuinely psychotic. She’s seven types of crazy. Actually, it skews a little more yandere but I will go into depth about it in the Fem!Jean fic. Rn, I’ll try to keep it short. Riko has her first crush when she’s eight? Nine? She kisses her crush on the cheek when she’s ten and Tetsuji… doesn’t take it well to say the least. The bit about it’s easier to remain straight? It’s the thing Kevin hears Riko say to herself every morning in front of the mirror. Regardless, Riko never gets over that first crush. Riko will never not miss Nathania Wesninski. When she finds out who Ania really is? She loses it. It’s fate, she tells herself. She will have Ania or die trying. Christmas at Evermore is a thing so I mean, I guess she does have Ania :( But she wants Ania to love her. She tells Ania as much and Ania spits in her face. :)

Most of Erin’s relationships are the same except for the Matt and Renee thing I covered earlier. The only other one that changes is Kevin. I know I say this a lot, but she really thought Ania and Kev would be a thing. She says no to Kevin for everything bc she’s petty. Kevin has always gotten everything that he wanted handed to him on a silver plate. Now he’s taking the one thing she really wants. If he gets Ania, he can’t have anything else. Again, I’ll cover her relationship with Jean later.

Thanks again your ask <3

Edit: I'm really tired and have a quiz tomorrow but I forgot to talk about Cleo. I'll make a separate post about her so stay tuned for that!!!

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devillain · 5 years ago

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Fear of Dogs, Dog Nicknames, and Doglike Tendencies

fear of dogs

Carlos has an obvious fear of dogs. For him his Cynophobia goes well beyond the words his mother said to him to make him fear them.

Carlos’ fear is ingrained in him. There are very very few dogs on the Isle, partially because of Cruella’s obsession with furs. The few dogs on the Isle are also associated with “evil” and aren’t the nicest. Carlos has had exactly one interaction with them, and he peed his pants, he was only 5 give him a break. But this interaction, when he reiterated it to his mother, is what started that conditioning to fear dogs. It was something Cruella used to keep a hold on him, and it worked, it worked so much he almost did not go to Auradon because of his fear of dogs.

Carlos’ first interaction with Dude is one of the most terrifying things he does in Auradon. Carlos hid it very well, but petting Dude was huge. The entire time he held Dude he was tense. He half felt like the dog knew who his mother was. Dogs tend to sense that, especially with Carlos. Cruella’s legend and story are passed around the canine world. So he was terrified Dude would attack him especially after Ben left. Dude had licked him and Carlos knowing nothing about Dogs, was pretty sure the dog was tasting him.

Carlos didn’t hold him for long when Ben left. In fact he essentially dropped the dog, and he and Dude had a stare down. Carlos then carefully left and Dude followed him which only added to his anxiety.

Eventually Carlos got used to Dude. It wasn’t overnight, and the dog only started sleeping in his and Jay’s dorm when coronation was upon them. Other small dogs were okay at a distance. Dude was the only dog he trusted so he carried Dude around because at some point it became a bit like a safety blanket.

However Carlos cannot handle big dogs, or dogs that bark alot. There are days where he can’t even handle Dude. Even into the time frame of Descendants 2, he just gets hit with a bunch of emotions that he can’t handle. His mom’s voice in his head is extra loud, every thing is too much and Dude becomes something he fears, and something he doesn’t want to get hurt because he struggles to not obey his mom’s voice.

It takes Carlos a few years to get used to dogs of all sizes. And even then it is a very very rocky road. He gets used to them, and really used to them when he goes to college, when he meets the Radcliffes, and gets his service dog Laurie, a dalmatian.

dog nicknames

First things first, Carlos is allowed to refer to himself in that manner (look I found a use for the dumpster fire that is book 4) because his chat name is in fact C-Dog. Carlos is okay with three people calling him Pup, the go to, or any dog related thing other than Pet. Those three people are Jay, Evie, and Mal. Those are the only people who have either express permission from Carlos to call him that, or Carlos has never complained about being called that by them (save for the one time with Evie in book 1 when they first met and even then it wasn’t a nickname). The only other person who calls him dog names, and dog related names that he will never put a fight against is his mother. It is canon she referred to him as pet, Evie thought he was a dog after all. Carlos will never correct his mother on this, or ask her to stop. The one exception being my left behind verse, where you can add Uma to the list.

If your muse was not listed above, it is safe to assume that calling him Pup, or Spots, and Dog-Boy, or whatever is not allowed. Carlos will automatically not like you. Carlos is not really a fan of nicknames in general. Carlos is just fine, and C is okay if you know him really well, Los is also permitted. Carlos however will not stop most kids on the Isle from doing it, though they do it in a more mocking tone rather than an actual nick name. He’ll tell them to stop, but it wont do much.

Carlos is so sensitive about the dog nicknames because of his mother. Everything with his mother is a pretty touchy subject. He loves a woman who abhors him, he atones for her wrong doings because he doesn’t think she can, and he truly does care for her in a weird fucked up way. However, when he was little he was treated like a dog, some of those behaviors have stuck with him, for example unless permitted he wont sit in a room, and when allowed he’ll only sit where directed, or he’ll sit on the ground. His go to is sitting on the ground if not told where to sit. With being treated like a dog— a puppy— whatever, came the first of the dog nicknames. Carlos never corrected his mother.

The nicknames are a sensitive subject with him because with the Core 4 they know enough to know what they really mean, no one else does, so calling him by those names is doing more than just putting Carlos in a bad mood, its reminding Carlos that for his entire child hood he wasn’t considered human. Carlos likes his name and would encourage people to call him by it.

doglike behaviors

Carlos has doglike tendencies, the core of these comes form his mother. His mother from the time he could crawl treated him like a puppy. When he could walk on two legs, she did what she could to keep him on all fours, which is when she started to give him chores.

She called him derogatory terms, and put to use much of the dog stuff in her basement. We know she locked him in the crate, I imagine for a while it happened at night, until it got too small for him to actually be able to fit in it. But he was still put in for punishments. She also called him “Pet”.

Because of these instilled and learned dog behaviors they carry over into his normal life. For example he doesn’t sit til told, and if given the option in a non-school setting he wont sit on the furniture. He does his best to not think about why he does things when and why he does them. The small behaviors don’t bug him like being called “Pup,” or “Runt,” or “Dog” does. Granted “Runt” and “Dog” bug him no matter who says it, but Mal. Evie, and Jay are all allowed to call him that without him getting pissed off. Anyone else shouldn’t do it, no matter what, that doesn’t stop the entire Isle from it. He also doesn’t correct people about it, like ever. Evie is least likely to do it because of their conversation from when she realizes that Cruella was referring to Carlos all those years and not an actual dog, and the fact that Carlos says it triggers him (granted I am not a fan of that phrasing in the book but we’ll go with it).

Behaviors that he does WITHOUT realizing:

Growling when angry or adrenaline is rushing (so for this and the one below Carlos does know he growls especially after Jay tells him— however Carlos does not realize when he does it, unlike when he whines and whimpers)

Growling to assert dominance and to protect protect

Tilts his head (you know the thing dogs do, he knows he tilts his head but he does not realize it is a dog behavior)

Run to just get pent up energy out (ie zoomies)

Chew lollipops and suckers instead of licking them like a dog would chew a bone

Play with toilet paper, trying to build things or whatever, picking it apart, but making a mess in the end

Makes a nest out of his bed when sleeping

Doesn’t sit til told

Opts to sit on the ground over furniture

Behaviors that he KNOWS he does:

Whine (whether this be in a form of begging, or not)

Whimper in his sleep (due to nightmares mostly)

Beg

Jump at people who he thinks he has an upper hand on

Cower when corrected

Run to avoid punishment (unless its Cruella)

While not a behavior his freckles are often linked with dalmatian spots (thanks to Cruella, it makes him oddly proud of them because he was born with them unlike dalmatians who are born sans spots)

Obeys direct orders

*both of these lists are ongoing

Carlos’ behaviors are best left not talked about. However that doesn’t stop people from talking about them, especially in Auradon when people notice it. It causes questions as to who his father is, many under the impression that it could possibly an anthropomorphized animal turned human such as King John from Robin Hood’s story. The truth is not so crazy.

Carlos is aware he has dog behaviors he fully accepts that as a fact of life, just as he fully accepts that his life is a pun and he must live with that. That does not mean he necessarily likes them being brought up, even by his best friends. Their are only so many dog jokes a kid can take. He also vehemently denies any of them when they are brought up.

#tw: abuse #tw: child abuse #headcanon: a smart little boy

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