#YE this is v fun i took a bit to figure out who to draw here

[pokege-ne-project]

>> YEAH wanted to join into this (even if slightly late) to the pink challenge from @ask-the-royal-absol !! Wesn felt like the best choice, tbh he'd rock it if this was his permanent color palette huehue. Tyvm for making this challenge!

[dollslayer]

Artistic Intention

Artist!Steve x Reader

Summary: Steve's doing well in his life drawing class, but a new muse throws him for a loop in the back supply room.

W/C: 2,374

Warnings: NO MINORS, p in v smut, unprotected sex, public sex, breeding kink if you squint, swearing

A/N: Hey! I wrote this for @buckyownsmylife 1st anniversary challenge! I love me a good AU so I chose Artist AU+ exhibitionism. Happy tumblr-versary! I made Steve a shy boi in this lol. If you liked this fic pls reblog/comment!! Check out my other fics too! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

It’s 1:45pm and Steve is desperately trying to weave his way through the crowd of people before him. His art folio hits everyone and thing as he makes feeble attempts to apologize to everyone for the bulkiness of the case. He can’t be too apologetic though, he’s running late for his 2pm life drawing class and if he doesn’t make it the professor will close the door in his face.

This is the longest 15 minutes in Steve’s life, he figures. He finally makes it up the steps and jogs up the stairs. His folio hits his leg, he winces but doesn’t stop, he’s only got a few minutes to make it up to the second floor and get himself situated behind an easel. He’s nearly out of breath when he makes it to the second floor and he’s trying to check his watch while running for the door. Two minutes.

Steve bursts through the doors and exhales loudly, he’s not sure he’s ever felt so relieved. His feeling of relief is short lived and quickly replaced with embarrassment as he realizes every pair of eyes in the room is on him. Every pair except for one. The new model for class this week, you slowly turn your head to reveal sharp eyes and a coy smile. He feels himself blush under your gaze and mutters an apology before getting settled in an easel directly in front of you.

He tries his best to focus on getting his paper and charcoals set out in an effort to shrug off the mixture of humiliation and lingering anxiety he had about being late. He feels his heartbeat begin to steady and he lets himself relax a little bit.

“Good afternoon, everyone. We have a new model in class this week, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. She’ll be keeping her current pose for one hour and repositioning for the second half of class. Mr. Rogers, since you had no problem running late I assume you’ll have no problem staying late as well. You’ll clean up after class.” The professor concludes with a short nod.

Steve sighs but nods his head in acknowledgement. He catches you smirking in amusement again at him and he can’t help but to blush all over again. He feels just like he did in high school, embarrassing himself in front of pretty girls. He sighs and picks up a piece of charcoal.

Steve decides to get a proper look at you and almost regrets it when he chokes on his own breath. You’re gorgeous, you’re coy and charming, you’re a muse. He’s still blushing because you’re naked, and beautiful and the feeling of humiliation hits him even more. He’s been in this class before, he knows the models will be naked but none of them had ever caught his attention as more than a subject, none of them were you.

He takes his time admiring your natural curves and appreciates your figure. You are so full of natural beauty, your bare face is perfectly flawed and the sun shining through the window highlights your skin tone. He can see why you were chosen to model for class, you’re perfect. He has to discreetly adjust himself and shuffles his jacket into his lap as he feels his pants tighten. He’s flustered all over again and realizes everyone else is already ahead of him. He puts charcoal to paper and gets to work.

____

As class goes on Steve’s sketch is coming along nicely. He can’t bring himself to look at you for more than a few seconds at a time for fear of getting hard again. When he sends furtive glances your way he catches you looking back at him with that smile of yours. He swears at one point you raise an eyebrow at him like you’re amused by him. He brushes it off and keeps drawing.

Class comes and goes much faster than he anticipated. He wants to pack up and get out as quickly as he can when he remembers that he has to clean up the room. He lets out a groan and waits for everyone else to leave. Now it’s only you, him, and the professor who are left in the room.

“Mr. Rogers I’ve got to get out of here, I trust you can put easels away without incident?” The professor asks. Steve nods and the professor turns to you. “Thank you for your work today, you can collect your pay from the front office. I look forward to having you as a model for this class.”

You smile and nod, waving goodbye to him. By now you’ve slipped on a robe and are reaching for your bag but it feels like you’re lingering. It’s just now that Steve realizes the two of you are alone. He swallows thickly, trying not to pay attention to you out of the corner of his eye. He begins to pack away his own drawing but not before giving it one final assessment. He can’t help himself from his own critical eye, analyzing mistakes and appreciating triumphs.

“Is that supposed to be me?”

Steve jumps in surprise, you’re peering right over his shoulder. He’s caught off guard by your presence and also by your voice, do you always sound this sultry?

He swallows and nods before taking a deep breath. Wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans he turns to face you.

“Uh, yeah. Yes it is. I don’t think it’s very good but I’m trying” He anxiously starts making excuses, assuming you hate it.

But you don’t. You just smile thoughtfully at him and nod.

“It’s good. At least, I think it is.”

“Th-thanks, thank you.”

“Do you always cut it that close or were you just hoping to stay late with me?”

Steve sputters at your boldness. He has to remind himself that he’s not that scrawny, measly kid he used to be. But he can’t help but feel like he is with his sweaty palms and short breaths.

“I, I um, I didn’t realize there’d be a new model. Was kind of expecting the old one. Not- not that there’s anything wrong with you, of course! I, sorry I didn’t mean to imply that, you’re- you’re beautiful too, you’re perfect really, I just. Oh jesus.” He spews the words out faster than his brain can keep up and he’s making a complete fool of himself.

He can’t bear to look at you, so he starts closing up easels and stacking stools. He doesn’t notice you ogling his muscles through his tight t-shirt.

“You think I’m beautiful?” You ask innocently.

“I-, um, yes. I think you’re very beautiful, if you don’t mind me saying so.” Steve answers honestly.

He moves some stools to the large supply room in the back of the classroom and you follow him.

“I think you’re beautiful too. And cute. You’re practically falling all over yourself, it’s sweet”

Are you talking to him? He still sees himself as he was back then, having a hard time thinking that anyone would look at him and find him attractive. It’s why he’s so beside himself now. You’re so completely beautiful and self-assured, there’s no way you’re talking to him. He sets down the stack he’s carrying and realizes you’re much closer than he thought. You’re inches away.

“What do you like the most about me? Is it my body? Don’t think I didn’t notice you readjusting your pants at the beginning of class.” You move even closer and Steve thinks you must be able to hear his heart beat because it’s about to come right out of his chest.

Your hands are on his chest and you have to lean up on your tip-toes for your lips to meet his ear.

“What do you say? You and me in this supply room? There’s hardly anyone here. Come on”

Steve feels like he’s dreaming, he has to check if he is. But then your hand reaches for his dick through his pants and he nearly doubles over from the sensation. He’s never been with anyone so brash and confident, your touch leaves a burning trail on his body.

“But- but what if someone comes in and sees?” He says, using every last bit of coherent reasoning he has.

“Isn’t that what makes it so fun?”

Oh, God. You. You. Smiling that devilish smile at him. He was weak in the knees and you took the opportunity to push him backwards onto a spare desk. You pulled him by the shirt collar to meet your lips and he let out a noise of surprise. Steve pushes his tongue into your mouth and lets out an obscene moan. You feel so good. He knew you’d feel good but not this good.

Steve’s large hands come to your waist and venture lower until he has a handful of your ass and grabs. You let out a little moan and nudge your knee between his legs and he grinds against it. You pull back to catch your breath when your hands go to the ties of your robes.

“We’re a little overdressed, don’t you think?”

Steve doesn’t need to be asked twice as he pulls his shirt over his head. Jeans have never felt so uncomfortable and he’s frantically trying to get himself down to his boxers. He swears he goes slack jawed when he looks back up at you. He’s already seen you naked, he just stared at you naked for hours, but you’re just as gorgeous as before but it’s the way you’re looking at him. Like he’s desirable, almost like he’s a piece of meat. It makes him feel wanted and reassured and he feels himself grow harder.

Your hands slip beneath the elastic of his boxers and slowly slide them down his legs. He can’t help but flush when you let out a small gasp at the size of him. He doesn’t want to get too big of an ego with it but he’s always known he was… gifted.

Before he can let anything go to his head he lets out his own soft gasp as you stroke him languidly. He can’t control his hips as they cant up into your hand. You grab his hand and quickly lead his fingers to your dripping pussy. Steve nearly melts when he feels how wet you are and slides two fingers in easily. He’s pumping them in and out and you let out tiny mewls as you kiss his neck.

There’s no more time for preamble though, you two need to be quick if you don’t want to be caught by some unfortunate custodian. You remove your hand from his cock and he takes his fingers out of your pussy and swears you whine a little. Feeling brazen himself, he makes direct eye contact with you and sucks his fingers clean. You bite your lip and squirm while he revels in the taste.

Reluctantly he takes his fingers out of his mouth and gets up to situate you so you’re sitting on the desk. You spread your legs wide for him and he takes in the sight, committing to memory. Maybe he can draw you like this some time. For now he takes a step closer but falters, remembering one fatal flaw in this whole plan.

“I… don’t have a condom”

You don’t look let down at all, you look excited in fact. Shaking your head, you explain to him.

“Doesn’t matter, ‘m on the pill. I wanna feel you cum inside me”

Steve might pass out before he gets the chance, the way you keep talking with that mouth of yours. He wastes no more time and positions himself at your entrance. He has one hand on his dick and the other on the back of your neck when he looks you deep in the eye and impales you fully in one go.

The moan you let out is pornographic and Steve uses his newly freed hand to cover your mouth.

“We have to stay quiet. Can you do that?”

You nod silently and he removes his hand, opting to grab your hip instead.

He pulls back and begins to start pumping into you. He’s steady at first, trying to keep himself from cumming too quickly. Slowly he starts increasing his speed and the force that he uses is causing the legs of the old desk to scrape against the floor.

Your hand reaches and grabs his ass, pushing him deeper into your pussy. You feel so tight wrapped around him with no barrier and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out. You’re trying to keep your moans quiet when he kisses you to silence them all together. He’s trying with all his might not to cum before you do.

His fingers find your clit and he starts rubbing it in tight circles. You have a harder time keeping quiet and you’re squeezing him like a vice. The friction on your clit and his dick hitting your G-spot perfectly is causing your eyes to roll in the back of your head.

“‘M gonna cum, please. Please don’t stop” You beg. Steve feels a wave of power surge over him now that you’re the needy one.

“Go on then, I’m not far behind ya. Wanna feel your pussy cum on my cock.”

With a few moments more he has you seeing stars and you claw at his back and pull him close to you. He continues on in his movements and starts pounding into you in earnest chasing his own release. All you can do is hold on for dear life.

Steve makes one final thrust before he’s cumming deep inside you. The rush of warmth is welcome to you and you kiss his jaw as he tries to catch his breath. The only sound being both of your heavy breathing. Hopefully no one heard you.

Steve can’t believe what just happened. He met a gorgeous girl and she propositioned him in a public place all in the span of two hours. He realizes just how far he’s come from who he used to be. He looks down at you, your noses touching.

“So, what’s your name?”

[mobagehelllocal]

Hello!! Is the alphabet headcanons still open? If so can I request A, F, K, N, S, V for octavinelle? (feel free to ignore this if requests are closed)

A/N: Headcanon request in general is always open Anon~ I have yet to close them~! Hope you enjoy~!

A, F for Floyd has been answered here!

A for Azul has been answered here!

all characters featured are depicted as 18+

warning: explicit content below cut!

Jade Leech

Aftercare

Jade will pamper his lover to the extreme. After a long foreplay (where he’s mostly hands off), and several rounds of sex--he’ll draw shapes into your skin as he quietly rouses you from a brief nap. He’ll bring you to the washroom and clean you up from the mess. 

During the foreplay and sex--he’s an incredible tease, not touching you--and giving you light degradation. However, during the aftercare--nothing but praise will slip past his lips. He’ll tell you all about how well you took him in, and how well you performed that day. Afterwards, he’ll wrap his arms around you, and tangle your legs together for sleep. 

Favourite Position

He likes the cowgirl position actually. He likes shifting positions, and putting you on top--then doing nothing. He wants to see how you’ll take control of the situation. The desperate look on your face as you frantically bounce on his cock is something he relishes in. 

He prefers it if he can see your face--he’s always studying the way your eyes roll back, the way your mouth parts in pleasure, and the flush that rises to your cheeks at your intimate act... That being said, he’d totally fuck you pressed up against anything that reflects--like a mirror, or a window. 

Kink

It should be obvious--but dacryphilia. He’ll tease you until you’re literally crying for him to give you release. He’ll lean down, and gently lick your tears away, before finally letting you take your fall. He’s partial to giving you dirty talk too--there’s just something about the gentleman Jade going from sweet loving whispers to straight up crass language that just hits differently. “My precious little flower... you should see how dirty your expression looks like now... just like a slut.” 

Voyeurism--but specifically, he enjoys watching you try to bring pleasure to yourself. He’ll likely just be watching you with a focused gaze and an enigmatic smile. Sometimes he’ll tell you how you should touch yourself, and he’ll tease you throughout it too.  

*Sharing is caring. Another thing--he’s actually pretty willing to share you with Floyd and Azul, then just watch you three go at it--he thinks it’s fun to watch. Unlike the other two, as long as he sees that you have the slightest bit of attraction to Floyd and Azul--he’d encourage it. After all, it would be incredibly fun and unpredictable. 

NO

Jade is a person who genuinely enjoys unpredictable things--so this was actually difficult to come up with. The most I figure is that he probably does not enjoy watersports. He just finds that generally weird and not attractive whatsoever. 

Stamina

He has an impressive stamina--somewhat like Vil’s. In the sense that he’s good at resisting you, until you’re at your wit’s end. Oftentimes, you’re on his bed, touching yourself while Jade’s sitting cross legged across you--probably peacefully sipping tea as he quietly tells you what you should do. 

Once he does finally strip away his suit, and he joins you on the bed--he can go on for several rounds. You’re normally incredibly overstimulated by the end of it--not only because the foreplay is long, but when it comes down to it--Jade is incredibly intense during the lovemaking process.

Volume

He’s probably among the quieter ones actually. The most sounds you’ll get from him are soft, little sighs as he bottoms out in your core--or in your mouth. He gets a little breathless the more intense your sessions are--you’ll just feel the puff of his breath across your collarbones or on the nook of your neck. 

Other than that--he talks dirty most of the time. He likes to order you around. Sometimes when he’s really up to teasing you, he’ll whisper directly into your ear how he wants you to touch yourself. 

Floyd Leech

Kink

Creampie. It’s less of the idea of breeding really, but more of seeing his seed slip out of your heat--that just turns him on, so he’ll always ask you (because Jade told him it was polite to always!! ask) if it’s safe to come inside. 

Intercrural sex. He has quite the fixation with your thighs--he loves how soft they are--so if it’s not safe for him to come inside, then he’ll likely transition to intercrural. He likes the feel of your soft thighs pressing against his cock. He’s also pretty interested with rubbing his cock in between your ass cheeks. If his lover is a woman, then he’ll use her breasts too. 

*Sharing is caring. This primarily depends on how the relationship started out! If you were really just pursuing Floyd--then he’s likely going to be reluctant to share. However, if you were actively going for the whole trio, then he’ll just naturally think that you belong to all three of them. 

NO

He doesn’t enjoy being tied up too tightly, or hand cuffs he can’t get out of. If it’s something you like, he’s fine with trying them out--under clear conditions that he’s able to get out of it himself and flip the situation around if he wants to. 

Stamina

He has insane stamina, and you’re likely to be super overstimulated afterwards. Unlike Jade who paces himself, and would let you breathe--Floyd is relentless. After you finish one orgasm, he’ll let your heat warm his cock for a bit before he’ll keep moving again. 

You’re always an absolute weak mess afterwards--you’re almost always certain never able to walk the next day, and Floyd gloatingly carries you to any of your schedules for the next day. 

Volume

Floyd is loud and unapologetic about it when the two of you have sex. He makes particularly gruff sounds and he almost--instinctively praises you in some way. 

“Nngh... Shrimpy feels so good” or “Shrimpy makes the cutest sounds when I do this--” comes slipping out of his mouth endlessly. Fearlessly. He doesn’t care who hears--in fact, he’s all for them listening. ‘Let them all know that Shrimpy is mine.’ is his sincere thoughts on the subject. 

Azul Ashengrotto

Favourite Position

He loves positions that keep your skins flushed close together--so something like missionary, face-off, or even just being completely draped over you--is very attractive to him. It makes his head spin, and makes him feel he’s dreaming up the whole thing. The feel of your skin against his remind him that you’re very real, and he can share this life with you.

He’s a little embarrassed about it, but there’s something so inherently erotic about the 69 position. He enjoys that the two of you are basically pleasuring each other through it! And yes, Azul would totally let you sit on his face. 

Kink

Praise kink. See, the moment you want to be in control of your steamy session with Azul, just start peppering kisses on the curve of his jaw, down his throat--and whisper-- “You’ve worked so hard Azul. You did such a good job. You deserve a reward.” and Azul will immediately go still, his hands trembling, and his face flushing red as you slowly push him down. Tell him of his beauty--and he’ll become soft in your hands. Do it, he absolutely deserves it. 

Laced lingerie that he bought. Yeah, like--he specifically picked it out for you and made you wear them--he loves to see you model out the lingerie he buys for you. He gets especially flushed when he sees you casually waiting for him on his bed, dressed in one of his dress shirts and the laced lingerie. He loves the lace so much, that more often than not--he’d fuck you while you’re still wearing it--but he’s careful enough not to actually damage the it though! (”It’s expensive!”) 

*Sharing is caring. Same thing with Floyd--if you were specifically pursuing Azul, then likely chance he would be reluctant to share you with the twins. However, if you are actively going for the whole trio--then he’d be more willing to share--it will come to him as naturally as breathing.

NO

You can tease him as much as you want--even to the point where his eyes are beginning to water, no problem. But for the Witch’s sake, do not even think of trying to degrade him. It’s not going to be sexy, or hot for him--it’s going to be an absolute turn off, and he’ll just be tossed back into his terrible childhood. 

Stamina

He doesn’t last as long as he’d like--he can go with foreplay to the main session and afterwards it may take awhile before he’s ready for another round. 

Most of the time, he’ll end up initiating aftercare after one of your sessions. It can lead to slow, tender sex in the bathroom--but most of time you just end up cuddling together and talking about your day instead. 

Volume

When he’s the one on top, he mostly just gasps, or goes a little breathless with each thrust he makes. He will whisper to you how great you feel, and how happy he is that he could have you like this, He might be tearing up, so go kiss those tears away! 

He’s not the loudest, but he does make the cutest, desperate little sounds from the back of his throat when you suck him off or when your clenching your heat around his pretty cock. You reduce him to an incomprehensible mess, and he’s a shuddering mess underneath you. 

[dmc-tings]

DMC Gang Teaching their s/o how to drive

Dante

Uh, yeah he knows how to drive

But... he's not the best teacher

Usually ends up asleep in the back

Cause he trusts you to figure it out

One day though, damn near changed his life

You smashed into a newspaper stand

The impact woke him from his nap

You were holding on to the steering wheel for dear life

Tears welled up in your eyes and he immediately pulled you into his lap

Kicking the door open, hauling both of you out of Morrison's now wrecked car

Dante was more concerned about you

You still hadn't said anything, just letting tears fall down your face

He checked you over, he was silent as well

Pissed at himself for letting his negligence, almost get you killed

The cops showed up, after a kind soul called them

An ambulance got to the scene and checked the pair of you over

While the paramedics looked you over, Dante called Vergil and Nero

The pair made it to the scene in Nico's van

But it wasn't just the two of them, the whole crew came

Kyrie and Lady rushed to your side, Lady shoving the paramedics and cops away from you

Kyrie got you talking, letting you weep onto her shoulder

Dante got a scolding from Vergil and Trish

Something along the lines of, "How could you be so wreckless." And "You knew that was dangerous, Dante."

He wasn't listening tho, he watched you cry into Kyrie's arms, while Lady rubbed your back comfortingly

Once the scene cleared out, it was just you and the crew

Oh! And a confused and angry Morrison

"How the hell.... Dante, you know your paying for this."

Your half-devil finally made his way to you, for once (and during this whole thing) speechless

His head hung, he didn't need Vergil, Trish or Lady to scold him

He was beating himself up over this

You looked up from Kyrie and Lady, throwing yourself into his arms

Crying out "I'm sorry's" and "I should have been more careful's"

He shushed you, burying his face in your shoulder, "Im sorry. I should have been paying more attention."

He silently cried into your neck

After that day, Dante took more care in paying more attention to your driving

Once you got your license though, he still took naps

Or so you thought

The devil man would only be resting

Peeking at you every so often

Vergil

You stood awkwardly in the archway of your shared bedroom

Vergil giving you a (visibly) shocked look

You wanted him to what?

"Verg? Did you hear me?" You shuffled your feet abit, again

He blinked at you

Dumbfounded, flabbergasted, and down right appalled

"You.. You want me to..."

You looked away, abit ashamed

But to your defense, you could and had always walked everywhere in Red Grave

You really didn't need to drive, unless you went to the beach or somewhere out of town

But.... Vergil didn't know how to drive either, he had spent the last 20 something years in hell

And the last thing he thought he would ever be asked to do or teach was FUCKING DRIVE

He shook his head, not saying anything to you

You bit your lip and looked away from him

You misunderstood his head shaking

Then his face flushed, letting out a grumble

"I dont know how to drive."

And in his defense, he just teleports or opens a portal to where he wants to go

You straightened up, "Wh-what?"

Great, you were back at square one

Vergil gave a small cough, "Why do you need to learn how to drive?"

You looked at your feet, "I just wanted to learn..."

In all honesty, Nero had teased you about being an adult, and not knowing how to drive

It made you feel low

Vergil gave a huff, noticing your hesitation

"Who." He stood up

You looked at him, "Ver-"

"Was it Dante? No... he barely knows how to drive..." his eyes flashed

You grabbed his arm, but it didn't stop him

He slashed open a portal, right into the shop

"Who teased (him/her)." It wasn't a question, a demand for the person who insulted his sweetheart

"Vergil. Please stop..."

Everyone in the shop looked at Nero, who had his headphones in

Vergil let out a growl and pushed you behind him

"Teach them how to drive!" He snarled, slicing the headphones off of his son's head

Nero shot up and got ready to fight back, but stopped when he realized what was happening

"Uh... sure... i-"

"Both of us."

Dante burst onto laughter, realizing what Vergil was getting at

Nero looked at Nico, "uh... can we-"

"Oh hell nah!"

At a loss Nero looked at you and his dad

"Well.... uh... i-"

Vergil scoffed, throwing a few summoned swords at his cackling brother

Then he pulled you close, "Tease them about not knowing how to drive again, and you'll feel my wrath."

He took you back home

After setting you on your feet and giving you a kiss on the forehead, he returned to his reading

"So..."

"You have me. No need to drive."

And that was the end of that

Nero

Nero sat in the van in the driver's seat

You in his lap

You insisted that he sit in the passenger seat

But the part-devil placed you in his lap

Now he was scratching his head

"Nero?" You looked at him with big puppy dog eyes

He looked down at you, "Yeah?"

"Do you know what your do-"

Nero waved his gauntlet clad hand

"Of course, I got this."

He, poorly, started to explain the gears, buttons and switches in front of you

"Aight. So. You got the gear shift, I think it's a stick. And the... uh... windshield wipers. And the lights in front, and the brights..."

'Oof,' you thought, 'I could have just asked Dante... and got just about the same experience.'

You drummed your fingertips on the steering wheel

Finally, tired of your boyfriend droning on, you turned the key and started the van

Nero jumped, then patted you on the head, pointing at the 3 pedals at your guys feet

"Well since your in my lap, I'll work the pedals. Just tell me when to speed up and slow down. Ok?"

You nodded, "Alright! Nice and slow though."

From here, using team work, you and Nero made your way around the block

Slow and steady

Then Nero hit the breaks a bit too hard

You nailing your forehead on the steering wheel

"Shit! Nero!" You leaned back rubbing your sore head

"S-sorry! There was a old lady crossing the street..." he mumbled

Then leaned forward a bit, examining your forehead

He sucked his teeth, "Shiiiiit. That looks bad babe...."

"No shit." You barked

You felt your boyfriend flinch at your tone

After the pain passed you patted him on the arm, that was wrapped around you

"Its ok. Good thing you stopped though." You pointed at the old lady still trying to cross the street

Nero nodded, grunting with agreement

"I... I think thats enough driving for the day."

Nero gave another nod, letting you crawl into the passenger seat

He made way back to the garage/shop

Once parked he looked at you

And you gave him a smile

"Thanks. That was pretty fun!"

Nero gave a small laugh, "I suppose it was, save for you bashing your skull on the wheel."

You huffed, poking out your lip, "Not entirely my fault."

V

(Yes, I include him, cause some people like him. And personally I like his character as well)

You and V were cuddling in the living room of your apartment

You leaned into his chest, watching tv, as he read from his book and gently running a hand through your hair

"V." You spoke lifting your head

He gave an acknowledging hum, looking to you from his book

"Can you teach me how to drive?"

He looked at you, his mind drawing a blank

As Vergil, he never drove, hell they barely walked

"Love, I've never driven.... Ever." He told you gently

You looked forward at his chest, searching your mind, trying to figure out who you could ask to teach you how to drive

V cocked his head at you, wondering what was going through your mind

You looked up, eyes shining, "we could learn together! There's plenty of books on driving!"

V's eyes lit up as well, your excitement fueling his

"Oh? Where to we begin then?"

You both sat up, you grabbing your phone and V sitting up with you

"Well the DMV would be a good start. They can give us all the info to study."

"There's a written test?" V asked, he knew he could pass that

You nodded, not looking up from your phone"Yes. And there is a driving segment as well."

V froze and looked down at you, but seeing you so excited, he didn't want to ruin your fun

Later you both got everything from the DMV

And at V's insistence, the library as well

You both spent weeks reading and learning

Even convincing Nico to let you practice and take the driving part of the test, using her van

Eventually when it was time for the tests, you both where prepared

You passed them with flying colors

Ignoring the dangerous tips Nico gave you

When it was V's turn, he passed the written exam

But hesitated when it was time to get into the van

He stood at the driver's door, hand on it

You walked to his side, gently putting your hand in his

"V? You can do it. Just don't think too hard about it."

He looked at you to speak, but you cut him off, sealing his lips with a kiss

Happy, he climbed in

You sat alone in the DMV, anxious

He came back with the instructor minutes later, beaming proudly

"You were correct, my dear. I didn't overthink."

He pulled you into a hug, after you both got your licenses

[youarejesting]

The right to bare arms

Beta:@voiceswithoutlips​​ Rating: All Pairing: Spider!Namjoon x Reader Genre: Hybrid au, Fluff, Adventure, little spooky Words: 2.8k

Summary:  A Halloween special for the youtube channel ‘Ama-Jin Friends’ sees a group of young individuals visiting an abandoned and supposedly haunted hotel. Legend says there are evil creatures inside ready to devour those who enter. But in the depths of the building you find the supposed creature isn’t as deadly as it seems, actually he is a bit clumsy.

You were sitting in front of the camera, feeling a little nervous. Halloween was coming up and well, that meant spooky content, and you were a big scared cat. 

“Good morning, noon, or night and welcome to another episode of Ama-Jin friends, I am your host Jin, and these are my friends. As today marks the first day of the week leading to Halloween, we are going to raise the stakes with a little competition.” Jin began speaking to the camera excitedly and you fidgeted, catching Hoseok’s eye as he too looked nervously around. 

“I told you all to pack a bag with everything you would need to stay the week in a hotel, the competition is simple, the last person to leave the hotel wins.”

“That’s easy!” Jungkook puffed out his chest, his Brown bear hybrid nodded in approval. 

“What aren’t you telling us?” Yoongi asked, noticing his owner Hoseok’s nerves rising. 

“The catch, it’s not just any old hotel, it is the most haunted hotel in this town, and top three in the country.” He smiled evilly, you and Hoseok shivered nervously. “Well since we are all packed let’s all head out?”

“As usual we have the camera crew, each group will be given a cameraman, except one, now we will be drawing lots on who will be going alone.” We each picked a piece of paper from the basket. “One of the papers is marked X the rest are marked O, the X is the individual who will go through the house alone without a camera crew. “

You looked at the paper and felt your body go weak, you were going alone. Bracing yourself on the couch you took some deep breaths, “are you sure you are okay, you look sick?” Carl, one of the cameramen asked.

“I will take it if you want?” Jungkook 

“No, I will take it!” you sighed. When you arrived at the hotel, you felt like crying, “this looks like something from a nightmare.”

You were each given a tracker bracelet and a headset with night vision goggles and a mic. Strapped to your chest was a go pro and you had a 360 camera on a stick, you were told to check the equipment every five minutes, to see if they were recording properly. And finally, you were given a heart monitor. 

You each stepped in with your backpacks of clothes, some water, a torch, and your electronics. 

“Pick a room and have fun, last one out wins”

You headed in by yourself, going to the back, on the first floor. You were shaking with nerves, “I don’t think I can make it through the night, but since I am all by myself I should stay on the bottom floor near the working toilets and the kitchen.

“Since this place has been turned into a haunted house the show stuff is upstairs. This stuff is pretty clean for people to eat food during Halloween.” You informed the camera.

“I have to find somewhere to sleep that doesn’t scare the crap out of me,” you muttered, lips numb, you found the kitchen and sighed, “I can’t sleep there, I found a small office, but it was locked, So I’m just outside in this lockable infirmary, so this is where I will camp for the night”

You chose that as your sleeping place, as there was a clean bed in the cozy room, however, the floor creaked and the carpet was discolored by water damage, but it was dry at this moment, and that’s all you needed. 

You spent the night talking to the camera and trying to sleep, unsuccessfully, when you heard a sound coming from the kitchen, “I heard a sound from the kitchen, and it’s freaking me out, can you guys hear it?” you whispered looking at the small light glowing in the corner of the lense.

Moving out the door and down the hall, you saw Jungkook and V cooking Ramen on the stove. 

“You idiots! I just had a heart attack!” you walked in shaking, Taehyung rubbed his round ears, embarrassed, and hugged you. 

“You want some noodles?” Jungkook asked playfully.

“Yes please,” you whined. 

“Hey y/n, I was telling Yui that I can smell another hybrid, I can’t tell what breed it is but it gives me a weird feeling?” Taehyung spoke in a husky voice.

“What does it smell like?” You asked aiming your camera at the two men as if you were interviewing them. Before placing the camera near the ramen.

“Like a rancid, bitter smell.” Taehyung expanded on his thoughts pulling a face.

“What smells bitter and rancid, snakes, lizards?” you brainstormed animals you knew that could be considered odd-smelling

“It reminds me of Ants?” Taehyung said thoughtfully “You don’t think it is a giant Ant hybrid?”

“Ants to me have an aniseed smell” You spoke to the camera wondering if others would agree with your statement, “Do you guys feel the same way?” 

“No, not like that, it’s funky,” Taehyung shrugged

“So something maybe insecty, I have never met an insect hybrid,” you hummed

The three of you ate ramen and parted ways, you went back to your room, but your torch was missing and you were scared, someone thought it was funny to take it but jokes on you, you wouldn’t use the torch anyway, you didn’t want anything in the dark knowing where you were in the halls. 

The first night you heard a noise, it sounded like it came from under the bed, you had been suspicious for the last hour that there was a hole under the bed. You dropped the stupid stress ball Jin had given you onto it bounced two times and stopped. When you moved to sit up there was a groan in the wood, mere seconds before the bed collapsed through the floor, you lunged off the bed for the ledge, but you missed and fell into the pitch-black basement. 

You screamed, but you never hit the floor, you were cushioned by sticky rope, you touched it and realized it wasn’t rope, it was a thick wiry spiderweb. 

One could always tell the size of the spider by the size of their web, but this was too big, this spider would have to be the size of a small bear, that scared you. Taehyung had said he smelt a hybrid, an insect hybrid, what if it had been eaten by the spider. What if it was that spider?

You felt movement on the web and you froze, something big was coming, you were desperately trying not to hyperventilate. You saw black shiny eyes and something retreat into the dark. But whatever it was, it didn’t attack, maybe because it thought you were dead when it didn't feel you struggling on the web. 

You looked around slowly, a shuffling sound could be heard below, and as you hung from midair stuck in these rope-like webs. As the sounds grew louder you screamed again as a light came hit your eyes. “Hey, you alright? You fell through the floor.” A deep voice spoke making your heart explode, you were going to die.

“Who are you?” you asked mouth gone dry, looking around until you saw the torch pointed at the roof illuminating both of your figures, he was a handsome young man. 

“I’m Namjoon the security guard, I watch on the cameras to see if anyone gets hurt. I came as soon as I saw you fall” He was wearing a very large puffy security jacket, you watched him struggle up the web and pulled you free, placing you on the ground, you picked up your things and he held out the stick 360 camera. “You might need this to continue your filming, are you like a tv show or something online?”

“We are online,” you smiled taking the expensive camera which thankfully was barely dirtied and still recording, you were still moving along behind him, you were a little scared, in a movie he would either get killed for helping, or he would be the killer. 

A shiver passed through you, you whispered into your mic. He led you to the first floor and fixed the barricade and sign that said water damage, and warned occupants to not travel down that area of the hotel. 

“Can I ask you a question?” The security guard Namjoon asked curiously.

“Sure” you smiled, happy to be back on the first floor, he told you he would take a stroll to check on every floor and make sure no one else was hurt.

“Well every one of your friends has a hybrid except you, do you not like hybrids?” He said curiously as to why you were exploring alone.

“I love hybrids, I just don't want to force one to live with me, but maybe if one wanted to then that would be different,” you murmured. “It’s complicated.”

“Sounds complicated?” he laughed, “what would you like? A cat hybrid or a dog hybrid?”

“I have no one specific in mind, just someone I could connect with.” He tripped and you went to help him up but he was already scrambling onto his feet. 

“Sorry I am a bit clumsy.” He smiled and you looked at him in the light of the hall, his eyes were all black and beady. He lowered his head. “I didn’t mean to scare you or bring you any harm, I am just a hybrid, not a pretty one either.” He gave a dry laugh, “I have lived in this house all my life now, I just have to face that this is how I will live from now on, I am not upset, I just don’t know what I am.”

He went to leave and you grabbed his arm, “You are a hybrid?”

“Yes,” He smiled sheepishly, “I should go… back down there?”

“Wait, if you have lived here all your life, where do you sleep and what do you eat?” you asked curiously.

“Well, my job is the security here, so I make some money and so I sometimes eat Ramen but when I was a child, undiscovered by the staff, I would eat whatever I could find,” he smiled sheepishly, “I have my own little home in the basement”

“Can I see?” you asked, the idea that this sweet dimpled young man grew up here with no food pulled at your heartstrings.

“You almost passed out whilst we were down there, are you sure you want to go there again?” he asked and you shivered, remembering the damp basement, he laughed putting his arm around you. “It’s okay, you don’t have to go down.”

“I am just afraid of the dark,” you admitted, now he started laughing wholeheartedly “Oh yeah just laugh at the scared girl!!”

“It’s just I live in the dark so that’s kind of funny,” he grinned, “I find comfort in the dark”

“Are you like a bat?” You guessed,

“No, I can’t fly,” he chuckled, “I am evil, scary, and everyone hates me.”

His laughter died off,  he was left looking sad and lonely, you wondered if your suspicion was right, was he the spider? or something else? He was a nocturnal animal with entirely black eyes but other than that there were no distinct features about him. He was very tall and his legs seemed to go on for days but that was all.

If he was a bat or moth he would have wings and, or webbed fingers, if he was an ant, beetle, or spider, you assumed he would have a more obvious behind. But his butt was confined to his pants perfectly, he caught you staring and he looked over his shoulder. “Is something wrong?”

“I was just checking something sorry,” you blushed, he probably thought you were checking him out, the way you were adamantly staring at his butt. “Anyway, what if you come to live with me?”

“You won’t want me,” he spoke bashfully, “I am not cute, and I am clumsy and repulsive-looking.”

“I have decided that if you want a home with hot water and real food, I could adopt you,” you crossed your arms, “you have never had an owner so I will be that, I will give you a better life, how does that sound?”

He looked like he was trying to contain his excitement and be reasonable, but he just couldn’t wipe that smile off his face as he stood up, “are you sure?” 

“Let’s go pack your bags,” you grinned, “I won’t take it back, and I won’t ask you to reveal yourself, I will give you your own room and personal space so you can be yourself.” 

Namjoon seemed to like this, grinning and heading to the basement. You tried to follow him but you slipped on the stairs, almost tumbling down the steps. Namjoon turned, looking shocked, he lunged for you. There was a tear of fabric and the jacket he was wearing ripped, revealing six more pairs of arms. 

You fell into all eight arms and he stumbled backward falling onto his back, ���Are you okay?” you asked,  making sure he didn’t hit his head. Obviously, you now knew he was a spider, you were a little weirded out by multiple arms; they were all entirely human just eight altogether. 

“I’m okay,” he seemed more concerned about you, “Are you?”

“I am in safe hands,” you snickered and stood up, holding out two of yours, “I only have two to help you up, but I am sure it is more than enough, let’s go pack your bags.”

It was safe to say you didn’t win the bet, leaving early but the video was a hit as Namjoon was the first spider hybrid caught on camera. He was introduced to your house where he got familiar with everything. You were quick to get custom-made shirts for his many arms. 

Namjoon was soon the newest member of Ama-Jin friends and though there were hate comments, the people grew to love him, seeing his cute side. They especially enjoyed him playing games and trying new things as he often made a mess. One of your competitions was to make coffee, he somehow got tangled in his arms and well the milk got more on the bench than in the mug.

The cutest part was how naive he was and how he never shied away, he loved trying new things and wasn’t scared to fail, and when he did fail he gave a dimpled smile. The fans fell in love with Namjoon when they saw how smart he was. They started to send him little toys and trinkets of his favorite animals. So here he was in a shirt that said ‘Crab Life’ it was a blue with a brilliant coral crab on it. The fans sometimes called him Daddy-Long-Legs, which had made the others laugh hysterically.

You finished up today’s fun episode and headed home, you decided to go into the grocery store, grabbing Namjoon’s favorite foods, at the check out you were paying the cashier talking to Namjoon. “If you want to grab some groceries I will grab the rest and we could head home and watch some TV”

But when you turned you saw each hand carrying a bag and you couldn’t stop laughing. His ears turned red and you assured him it wasn’t bad, “you just never cease to amaze me. How could anyone hate you? You are a precious and sweet angel!”

Namjoon puffed up his chest and grinned, he was happy to be wanted and useful and you were happy to help him feel wanted. “I think you are an amazing owner too, you support me in what I do and you aren’t too overbearing. Plus you cook really good food.”

“Well if you like my cooking, I should let you know tonight I am making your favorite,” you smiled, opening the front door, you sorted out the groceries and thanked that Namjoon was so tall he could always reach the top shelf. 

“Do you need help?” Namjoon asked and you grinned as he liked to participate, but you had to remind him to go slow and think about what he was doing first before he did it, you always gave him safe tasks not wanting him to burn himself. 

“I have a salad that could be made so I need you to wash the spinach and chop the avocado and just dice everything slowly okay, take your time and don’t hurt yourself,” you warned him, getting the rest of the food ready, “I will finish making the japchae.”

“I love japchae,” he wiggled excitedly and began washing the spinach, it made you laugh, he was still such an excitable young man, he never had someone cook for him or to hang out with. There was never someone to talk to or confide in, he never had a safe place to explore the world and expand his mind.

He grew up well despite living alone, having access to books, and was smart enough to teach others, he even knew multiple languages that he self-taught from watching tv in the basement of the haunted hotel. 

If you enjoyed this please LIKE | SHARE so others can enjoy it too.

[heli0s-writes]

III. Paralysis*

Summary: “I’m sorry,” you sob, locked around Bucky’s bicep, his forearm, fingers digging into the smooth obsidian plates, fisting the fabric of his sleeve. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” As if he were Natasha—as if you could stop both her death and his mangling, or at least hold her the way you are holding him now.

A/N: 9.8k words. OOF.

Warnings: Language, robots v. monsters violence, Big Time angst and comfort, smutty bits (dry-humping, thigh riding).

Trinity Epoch Masterpost

He leaves around sunset. Hair combed neatly to the side and freshly shaven, Steve’s dashing in a fitted suit and tie. 

In the middle of passing around a basketball, Erik Killmonger, in all his subtlety, whistles, “Looking fresh, white boy!”

Steve smirks, smoothing the front of his jacket, “This monkey suit? I’d rather be in circuitry.”

He’s been laying low since Siegehook, since Bucky’s arm, and since you. But now the story’s changed and he’s gotta get his narrative straight— he’s introducing a new character, changing the players, and guiding the spotlight exactly where it needs to go.

Jimmy Fallon— Kimmel? One of the Jimmies personally flew into Hong Kong for a special taping of his late-night show. Orion racked up eleven kills; it’s another record and the people want what they want.

Fury called the three you of into his office after the network reached out for the umpteenth time. He strategized shrewdly to have Steve on this particular broadcast because it’s not as serious as a news report and not as wordy as an interview. Too many things can go wrong in both: cross-examinations, misquoting, scrutiny after the fact.

Steve works best in front of a live audience. He’ll sit down tonight—broad and tall—smile at the camera and the host, make a few charming quips, and then he’ll let the world know.

James has been hurt. The next breach will overlap his recovery time—don’t worry, everybody, fortunately, there’s a pilot available to step in and fill his place until he’s fully healed. And yes, he’ll be back soon, both in the Jaeger and on the show— I know you miss him, he’s even more popular than me, huh? Broody and quiet, right, ladies? He’s a hit!

Then he’ll laugh and field some questions about his new partner—but keep it vague for both yours and Bucky’s sake.

It didn’t need to be said. You didn’t want to be named, Steve didn’t want to make any assumptions for the future, and Bucky didn’t want to know if anyone thought he couldn’t pilot anymore.

Erik passes and you catch, sidestepping Thor and shooting over his figure which is no easy feat considering his massive height and the way Steve is staring you down. You don’t have to be hooked up to his brain to know what he’s wondering. 

Since the trial run, you’ve been feeling the after-effects of the drift in oscillating waves. Sometimes you catch yourself standing ramrod straight, physically feeling heavier, knowing it’s him.

You okay? We talked about this. Yes, you are. No, you aren’t. It’s complicated. He’s fixes his tie the same time you spot a wrinkle. After-effects.

Erik jumps for a rebound when you miss the next basket, getting it knocked away by Thor’s enormous hand. Steve’s already gone when you look back, but Erik is passing again, and your next shot sinks through the net.

“That’s fuckin’ right!” He knocks his elbow into yours proudly, pushing sleeves over elbows until you can see the patterns of scarification up his arms. Feet back and forth on the scuffed concrete with distracted rhythm, you dribble, thoughts still on Steve.

“Hey,” a voice calls over the sound of the slamming ball. Barnes toes the edge of the makeshift court. A jacket is tucked under his arm, baseball cap atop his dark head. “Come on, it’s Friday night and you’re thinking too much. I wanna show you a place.”

-

He leads with confidence, directing the taxi in practiced Cantonese picked up over the last two years. Then, once disembarked, he peeks back every few minutes on the street to check if you’re still following. Your gait is awkward—steps firm, but lopsided. All off kilter and wound up like a spring.

It’s okay. In Bucky’s experience, food always helps. He’s taking you to his favorite restaurant—hole-in-the-wall Sichuan. He hollers over his shoulder, "You better be prepared for spice!”

-

Red lacquered doors open with a tinkering sound, a tiny overhead bell signaling new arrivals. A hostess steers through a path of similarly varnished tables and decorated chairs when Bucky asks for a quiet corner. Fish tanks of koi gleam green and blue. Chandelier scatters gold and white diamond shapes on a ceiling painted like a cloudy sky.

Hot tea first, and he sips carefully, gaze moving up to the T.V. behind your back when you’re busy flipping through the menu. A few more minutes pass of your furrowed brow sinking deeper and Bucky’s hand slides quickly across the tablecloth, nudging the booklet from your clutch.

“I got this.” And relief washes over your entire body like rain.

-

The appearance of entrees breaks your trance. Mai Gai, Char Siu Bao, Dan Dan noodles, and eggplant in garlic sauce—you’re trying to tell him it’s too much, wondering when he even ordered, but he ignores you. Not his fault you spaced out, he says, catch, and a napkin flies directly into your chest.

It makes you laugh, and Bucky secretly wants to tell you that it wouldn’t kill you to do it more often. Why the hell not, anyway? He’s tired of being upset about something that was largely inevitable. He knew the risk of death when they signed up to be Rangers so on the bright side, at least it’s his arm and not his head. At least it’s his arm and not his co-pilot’s. You’ve proven to be more than capable and proven to be someone he can trust with Steve’s life.

If Bucky had any doubts about whether or not that damned Rogers determination would see them through—they’ve been dispelled now.

The drift was sound. When Steve stepped out from the loading dock, he was lighter like half his weight had been sloughed off. When you followed, helmet pulled from your face, Bucky could see where it landed. Your hips, your shoulders, your jaw, all defiant—even if temporarily—coming down from the high of the handshake. Squared and strong, you looked at Bucky and certainty gleamed from your eyes.

You are Orion’s new pilot. He’s gotta give it up. It could be worse.

Bucky’s fingers shift as he unsnaps chopsticks and grabs spoons, the plates on his left clicking quietly, flexing his pointer when it sticks. Sometimes the prosthetic is a little glitchy because nothing’s perfect, but Stark and Shuri are constantly making updates. They use technology from the spinal clamp to connect his synapses, running tests on its reaction time, sensitivity, and functionality. He can feel pressure, but not pain, and wouldn’t it be nice if it applied elsewhere, too?

He passes your utensils over, wrapped loosely in a napkin. It could be worse.

“Hey Barnes,” you call earnestly, running your fingers over an embossed floral pattern on the paper, “Thanks.”

He’s not looking at you yet, firmly on a mission for soy sauce and chili oil. He makes a well of it in a ceramic dish and stirs with a chopstick, moving it to the center of the table, finding distraction in small tasks.

“...Barnes?”

“It’s Bucky,” he says finally, flicking his eyes to your hopeful face, “You can call me Bucky, alright? Usually that’s just for Steve, but you’ve been in his head—know me now, I guess. So you might as well. Hold your horses—I’ll serve you.”

Speechless, you put your hands in your lap and observe him scoop food, the syllables of his offered nickname tapping like a metronome over your curious tongue.

Bucky, you consider, watching the way he moves. Bucky, with his long hair pulled back and out of his cap. Bucky, his soft and worn hoodie, boots drumming gently against the table leg, eyes discreetly glazed over because he doesn’t think you notice the change in his mood.

Bucky, who made you laugh in the Jaeger hangar—even if he did threaten your life upon the first meeting. Who could have let you rot from boredom and worry, but instead took you into Hong Kong to his favorite restaurant without being asked to. Who could hate you—truly, truly hate you—for taking half his life from him, but instead is piling a mound of fragrant jasmine rice on your plate.

“What?”

“Bucky. I like it. It sounds nice.”

A clipped noise of displeasure, “Okay. Don’t fuckin’ wear it out.”

“Bucky...?” You murmur, sly. “Bu-cky. Buck-y.” The tips of his ears swell pink as you continue, emphatically pressing your lips together, letting your jaw hang open, pronouncing with precision. A bite of a steamed bun and you lick the edge of your mouth, “Bucky…hm…”

He sputters.

“Would you stop? Jesus, you’re annoying just like him— no fucking wonder— the two of you. Just fuckin’ darling.” His words are all run together with how fast his frustrated tongue moves, a healthy flush over his cheeks, spoon clinking on his plate.

It’s cute. Stoic, serious, James—Bucky Barnes– just a boy who can’t take a bit of flirting without lighting up like a candle. It’s fun. You like him, Bucky Barnes.

An unexpected ache overtakes you and suddenly Bucky looks more familiar than he ever has. Something excruciating about the soft crinkles of his brow, the way his generous lips draw back to reveal a sliver of his teeth.

He’s Bucky wiping the sweat from his collar in a dirty alleyway, jeans torn at the knees, bruises budding along his knuckles as he yanks up a troublesome blonde friend. Bucky, young and determined, helping Steve into bed every time he got sick.

Bucky, hovering pallid and broken in the drift, hurt and afraid but you felt his resolute strength in Steve’s head even as he howled in agony. Far off and shuffling in transparent layers until he was little more than a specter, but he was there.

His eyes lift again, raising to point you toward the T.V.

“There’s our boy.”

Our boy. And it keeps hurting.

You twist your torso as Steve steps out from backstage, waving and smiling, impeccably poised. He shakes Jimmy’s hand— silently mouthing thank you and hey because the cheering and yelling is too loud to hear him anyway. You try to stop thinking about Bucky anywhere but corporeal and whole across the tablecloth.

“Hey, Jimmy, how are ya?”

“Good—good, Steve. It’s so great to have you on the show again! Wow, you look great! Specimen.”

Steve chuckles modestly, tucking his chin to his chest, “Thanks, you do too.”

“Alright, no need to flatter me, we’re already in love with you, okay?”

You grin the same time Steve does, but whereas he continues to joke and enthrall two hundred people, you grow restless. Bucky refills your tea and drops a crumble of yellow rock sugar in.

“Relax,” he mutters, “It’s fine. He’s good at this. Eat your food.”

And you know this; you know him. Steve’s good when the questions get too personal and when there’s gaps in the conversation—when the cheering interrupts him or when his jaw ticks before he morphs it into a smile.

He’s good when he breaks the news to a hushed audience, gone eerily quiet like they’ve stepped on consecrated ground. Steve gives them those big blue eyes and the room immediately bursts into applause. Some people are crying. The host is shocked into wordlessness.

You feel relieved, getting what you pleaded for. No cameras. No questions. No pressure. The truth is aired, and Bucky seems pleased, too. You’re about to turn around, offer your full attention, thankful for his company, but then something else happens.

Jimmy blinks his stupor away from the blow of Steve’s confession. He takes a sip from his mug and after a short exchange of, thank you for your transparency, it must have been hard— wow I didn’t think you’d drop a bomb like that on us tonight! I thought I was the one with the ace up my sleeve— ha!

He points off-stage and says, “After that, I think you deserve a nice surprise, Steve. Ready?”

Tall, gorgeous, lightly curled hair cascading down her back—the surprise is a woman. She steps easily in heels, an off-the-shoulder red dress hugging tight to her body. Stunning. She waves to the audience and they go wild. 

Steve shoots up to meet her for a kiss in front of the host desk, shaking his head in disbelief, tangling his fingers in her silky hair. There’s cheering again and the crying keeps on.

“Oh my god— Jimmy! You sly devil!” He’s overjoyed. “Baby— how’d you—I thought you were working.”

“I can always make an exception for my favorite guy.” She showcases perfectly white teeth and the high apples of her rosy cheeks.

It’s Ophelia Reyez, Steve’s model-turned-actress girlfriend of approximately six months. Her recent appearance on the Victoria Secret fashion show blew up the internet and her last Sports Illustrated swimsuit cover sold out in every gas station you went into.

Their first meeting was at a charity event—raising awareness about pollution in the Pacific, discouraging scavengers from harvesting Kaiju parts after battles. A picture of them standing two feet away made its way through social media the next morning her PR team made contact before noon.

So of course, it was decided; it’s a beneficially mutual relationship, after all. Doesn’t matter if he hates it or not—people don’t want to know that pilots live in a metal box and play basketball on Friday nights. They want to see Rangers in a role— monogamous relationships with beautiful people, white picket fence (or gated community) future in the making, and eventually plump-faced babies in strollers.

Steve’s now back in his seat, shifted so Ophelia is sitting in his lap, turned to the side. His hands are locked around her slender waist—an incredibly believable display of public affection. She kisses his cheek, leans her head on his shoulder, beaming brightly. If you were anybody else, you’d believe it; you have before.

“Fuck me gently with a chainsaw,” you whisper in both awe and annoyance.

“Feeling it, huh?” Bucky speaks plainly around a bite of eggplant when he notices your jaw. That habitual and microscopic signal he’s grown to spot a mile away means Steve’s irritated and pissed off, and now it means that you are, too.

“Yeah,” you admit, shaking your head. You turn back to him, thoroughly bothered, having had enough of the performance.

“Uh-huh. Everyone’s a Fly—even her.”

You sigh at the label. Jaeger Flies, is what he’s saying. Ranger groupies. Derisive titles— and maybe deserved— for men and women who are attracted to pilots solely because they’re pilots. They want the opportunity to be famous or the privilege of being elite.

Even her, Ophelia Reyes. She’ll forever look at Steve Rogers as the Ranger.

Natasha always lamented—usually as she took her earrings off after a date, heels slipping off her pale feet—about another civilian man who worshipped her, and how that would be a dream for most people, to be so adored, so revered, but you always felt her sorrow in the drift mourning a love she couldn’t have.

She wanted the white picket fence. The normal life, normal husband, normal family. Her clean break from the past where monsters could no longer chase her in Decima and nightmares could no longer chase her at night. Behind closed doors, she was all torn open at the seams. And you’d wordlessly tell her shut up because she had a family with you. You loved her too, wasn’t that worth something?

She’d spiral and spiral and nothing was ever enough.

Your stomach twists and it keeps hurting.

-

Bucky pays for dinner. He asks as he pops a mint into his mouth, “Up for dessert?”

“God, Buck.” You groan, and Bucky takes a second to run that through his head again. God, Buck. Another thing like Steve.

“C’mon, I wanna show you another place,” he says thoughtfully, “Hold on to your hat, punk.”

A lighthearted swat to your back and then he’s shoving the ballcap hanging from his chair on your head.

-

The streets are lit with all sorts of colors as you follow him through the market, peering at vendors showcasing an abundance of food and miscellaneous items. You keep telling him you’re too full and can’t eat another fucking bite, but he only commands you to walk it off. The crispiest egg waffles are somewhere down this way, and even though he can’t remember the intersection, it should be close.

Between steps and dodging passerby’s, he relates his own experiences of brief PR relationships. A Russian woman one time, and a Greek woman another time. Cross-cultural because it made the PPDC look good—and it was all about looking good. He loathed it, of course, but he’d bite down a couple of months before their representatives would release those asinine joint statements about “conscious uncoupling” – schedules too busy, still have love for each other in their hearts, though.

“Couldn’t tell you those girls’ middle names. We’d get together just long enough for some media circulation—dates where we’d pretend to be offended when pictures leaked on TMZ.”

“Well,” you muse over a vision of Bucky leaned back on Steve’s mattress, returned late and bored of another paparazzi encounter swarming him in the lobby of some hotel. You know it like a dream—his ankles crossed, shoes shucked off, cracking his neck. Fuckin’ wild, Stevie. This girl. My knees ain’t what they used to be.

“Least you got your dick plenty wet, didn’t ya?”

He makes a noise like an engine backfiring—offended like you’ve pawned off his prized possessions or something.  

“Jesus—you’re an ass.” He slams the bill of the cap down until it hits you in the nose. Another huff, more cursing, and then he’s saying fuck you before speeding off alone. 

You chase cheerily, finding his chestnut head peeking over the crowd with ease because he’s tall and hard to lose in Hong Kong. A few more blocks down with him looking back surreptitiously to make sure you’re not lost, and Bucky ends up being the one who is actually lost.

“Shit. Can’t find the stand,” he grumbles, “Don’t give me that face. These are way better than the ones we passed earlier—fucking all soft in the middle—fresh pandan leaf, alright? You don’t get it.”

“I don’t even know what that is,” you laugh, feeling your cheeks grow tired from the way they’ve been lifted all night.

A stifled, hot breeze of urban downtown mixes with a chilly gust of wind, carrying Bucky’s petulance away though the throng. Blinking, you look around, craning your neck and shuffle to the curb. Stalls with hanging lanterns. Carts lined with pickled mango. Vendors grilling skewers of pork and cleaving roast duck into chunks.

You suddenly dart from him across the busy road and barely avoid a rickshaw balancing two enormous baskets of finger bananas. When you return, you hold up matching green popsicles. One gets shoved into his mouth, other one into yours. Pandan, like he wanted.

“Hey, it’s not bad,” you give it another taste. Lingering coconut, a little bit leafy, but not unpleasant. “Oh shit—cold!”

Bucky licks his lips, stinging red from the ice. You shudder loudly as brainfreeze hits, another chatter of your teeth following when a gust of wind whips through. He shrugs his jacket from his shoulders.

-

He calls you a dumbass after an embarrassing story about the time you skinny-dipped in a pond near The Icebox in the middle of winter. A handsome man, your eager libido, and a handle of whiskey had been involved. You giggle about being bed-ridden for half a week afterwards, but you got his number and a few good nights in his bed.

“Guess you’re not as boring as I thought.”

You whistle, “Sweetheart, I got stories that’ll put some hair on your chest.”

Bucky smacks you on the shoulder. “Ass.”

-

The Shatterdome comes into view much later.

What would have normally been a three-hour excursion, at most, has unintentionally into six and you’re nowhere close to tired—not quite ready for it to end. Bucky is bright with energy, too.

The past hours have been dedicated to recalling old tales. One led to another, threads pulled from the most insignificant of mentions—your old Boston Terrier’s underbite; Bucky accidentally knocking Steve’s bottom lip into his own braces in sixth grade and it swelled up so big he could hardly talk; Natasha, unable to pronounce fucking aluminum out of all the damn words in the world; you, unable to pronounce facetious; and then Bucky, trying his own hand at it and realizing he can’t either.

“Fa—fa-shish-shush? Fascist—tus? Factitious… Ah, shit.”

“Buck,” you gasp through another fit, “Bucky—you have to shut up. Oh—Oh my god—my face hurts.”

“Christ, who fucking made this word up?” He turns the corner toward the living quarters, shaking his head. Just you and him between the rooms and his steps slow at the advent of an inbound goodnight.

Bravely, now that you’re in more secluded space, you offer, “I can tell you more... if you want. Anything. It’s only fair.”

“Yeah,” he says, going quiet and careful. “If you want to.”

So, you take a deep breath, bookended by a nervous grin because other than Steve, the only person who knows anything about you outside a confidential manila folder is dead.

“Well, it might surprise you, since I’m just so goddamn talented—"

“Oh, here we fuckin’ go.”

“Kidding. I wasn’t good at anything,” you elbow him before fishing out your key. “Other than getting into trouble.” Clicks of the cylinder and your vault door squeaks open. “Lots of fighting—I was a small kid. Had nothing but the clothes on my back and just the biggest chip on my shoulder.”

“Sounds like someone I know.”

Yeah. It’s funny. Steve’s alleyway fisticuffs might as well have been your own. You tell him as soon as the PPDC started recruiting again, you were in line. Their standards were confusingly specific and the tests they ran didn’t make any sense, but you passed and landed in Kodiak Island under the austere care of Stacker Pentecost. 

Flipping the light on, you invite him inside. “I’d been in and out of foster homes. Barely had a high school degree. Got into… bad work. You know— what do homeless young adults with questionable moral codes do when their 9-5 isn’t paying the bills?” It’s desperate joke to break up the tension but he doesn’t take the bait.

“I’m not judging.”

You plop down on the edge of your table— a spotty metal thing pilfered from a vacated room. He takes the single seat in front of you, moving a dusty glass of water toward the wall, expression only showing attentiveness.

“Well, anyway…” you pause, “I was in the Bay Area after Trespasser— you know, scavenging. But, well, it changes your perspective a little when you’re sneaking through government tape at 3 in morning, stepping over flowers and memorabilia for all the deaths to crouch over a monster’s fucking toenail.” 

“Hell,” a sardonic and self-deprecating grin, “I might have been a degenerate street urchin, but someone’s family got taken from them and here I was—monetizing their tragedy.”

Arching your back for more comfort, you splay your left leg over the surface, “Pentecost always said if I was lucky enough, I’d suffer brain damage or radiation poisoning, but might as well die in a Jaeger than in a ditch like I figured I always would. Son of a bitch had my number.”

Bucky’s lips are pursed lightly, eyes are tracing the path of your laces through bent hooks when you wriggle your boot back and forth. He spreads his hand over your ankle, keeping you still.

You swallow when he squeezes.

“Uh— I met Nat at Kodiak.” Bucky is warm. You oscillate between ignoring him and focusing on him, clinging to his hold instead of chasing the thought of Natasha too much. “We were… very similar. Childhood, um, troubles and all that.” You give him a pointed look and he makes a small noise of understanding with no intention to press for details, “She became my best friend. She was the first person I had. My only family.”

A nod of mock irritation and he says, “Yeah. Steve was always a part of mine. Sometimes they say they like him more than me. Can’t blame ‘em.”

“It’s the charm. They make it seem effortless, huh?”

“Fucker can’t take a bad picture to save his life.”

You laugh. “A smile like the goddamn sun!”

“One look into those stupid blue eyes and you’re a goner.”

“Criminally pretty.”

“Hah!” Bucky snorts, “Pretty enough for all of us.”

The floodlight on the wall casts darkness in the shape of your head over his shoulder. Lines of wayward hair caress his neck, tapered strands resting on his collarbones, chestnut glowing orange. His irises stipple forest green when it touches the light, smile nostalgic and lovely.  

“Don’t be stupid,” you look at him for another minute longer, “You’re pretty, too, Buck.”

A raise of his brow. Bucky’s mouth opens and closes a few times vacantly. “Thanks,” he mutters finally. Then, bashfully, “So are you.” 

Then, a cautious murmur of your name that you almost miss, and he’s peering up at you, deliberately soft. Bucky’s thumb knead small circles over the stitching of your jeans.

“You loved her, didn’t you?”

You loved her, didn’t you?

The years sweep through, passing over your face in a range of rapid-fire emotions. Bucky watches them change like shadows of a bonfire. Delight, amusement, longing. Anger, despair, grief. Deep and unforgiving because she was your whole world—all you had— and she left too soon.

You inhale and it sounds like a sniffle— exhale, and it sounds like a sob. No going back now; you did promise him anything.

You loved her, didn’t you?

Of course you loved her. Natasha-fucking-goddamn-Romanoff. Yeah, of course you did.

You loved her like a sister. You loved her like a lover. You loved her in reflexive ways, like mother’s intuition, finding your motivation in the need to protect her even though she hardly ever needed protection. You loved her like precious gems. You loved her like she was made from your own rib. You loved her enough to love unreciprocated.

“Well, you spend years living with someone, in their brain, learning everything about them— every decision in and out of their control that led them up to who they ended up being. Their—all their impulses and all the things they think about themselves. How—how they hate themselves sometimes.”

You’d always said you were the stupid one. Too stupid to reflect on the past and too stupid to let it burden your conscience the way she’d let hers. A running gag whenever her hand jammed putting on a lipstick she’d worn a million times and you’d finally have to do it for her.

Cheer up, Nat. You’re too pretty to cry. You’d line her lips, pat in rouge delicately, encouragingly. And then you’d shut up because there was nothing you could tell her. A million reassurances rolled off her back because they only made her feel worse. She clung onto your care like another weapon in her chest because she couldn’t return it even though you told her you wanted nothing from her but happiness. Jesus Christ, Nat, I thought I was the stupid one.

“When you know someone like that, it’s easy, isn’t it? You see them exactly for who they are and suddenly there’s no longer the concept of good or bad. What else could I do but love her? Especially when she thought so little of her damn self—tried everything to be someone else but—Jesus, if you only knew how radiant she was—”

You shut your eyes. “A smile… like the goddamn sun. Ah, fuck—"

And now you’re crying. You haven’t cried about Natasha in almost half a year because it’s something you track like the entrance bay’s war clock. Five months. Ten days. Zero again.

You’re choking back too many words and you don’t even know why you said all of that. You start apologizing, rattling out more, too much again, desperately like a prayer, pitch escalating higher and higher. “She deserved everything. A life that was completely—solely—hers. A life that made her happy— and why— why her?”

Why not me? 

Bucky hears it in the silence. Watches it descend like a funeral shroud, weighing you down until you look as heavy as Steve on his worst days—when he stares at Bucky’s arm, like Bucky can’t see, can’t feel him there. And he knows Steve is thinking, why not me?

Bucky rises to his feet, stepping next to your uselessly dangling leg, resting his left hand on your shoulder and you grasp him, clutching achingly tight, torn to bits. And it’s too much all at once.

“I’m sorry,” you sob, locked around his bicep, then his forearm, fingers digging into the smooth obsidian plates, fisting the fabric of his sleeve. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” As if he were Natasha—as if you could stop both her death and his mangling, or at least hold her the way you are holding him now.

You’re smashed into little pieces, barely keeping your head above water, holding it all in, and no one recognized how you were drowning the entire time.

Solemnly, curiously, he feels like he’s seeing you for the first time but not quite, remnants of familiarity sparks in him—the filmy plastic layer of an old photograph pressing down to reveal something he once knew and finally knows again.

You make helpless noises, staring numbly ahead, tears rolling out like marbles to drop into your lap.

Bucky shakes his head, “I’m fine,” he whispers gently—frustrated—brow furrowed, his fingers rubbing the salt from your chin, “Quit your blubberin’.” He tilts your face up to the light, watching you take a shuddering breath, exhausted from unearthing buried skeletons.

It's wet when he kisses you, supple flesh chapped around the edges from anxious gnawing, swollen hot from weeping. It’s soft and quick, and then he pulls away.

“St—sorry,” he says, mouth pressing into a thin line, lips drawn in and tentatively licked. “Sorry, I don’t know… I don’t know why I did that. I shouldn’t have.”

Your eyes are sad—big and vulnerable, inflamed red, confused, worried, something else weaving through the damp gaze. Your strong, small fingers are still tight on him, and even though Bucky pulled away and apologized, he rushes forward again.

His free hand curls around your neck, supporting your head. Lips part and close, pressing firmly, expertly, naturally. It feels like he’s kissed you before and missed it— like a kiss he’s been waiting on for a long time.

Banging on your door jerks him away. You careen off the tabletop, smooth the back of your hair, wipe your face and the vault creaks open.

“Marshal,” Bucky greets.

“Rangers…” Fury’s steps are suspicious, phone in his hand aglow. “I thought we had a plan.”

Your heart is beating too fast, the press of Bucky’s plush lips still warm, the scent of his skin still near. You sense it like an imprint, feel it like a brand. The room spins with an onslaught of possible scenarios—all horrendously unclear.

“Care to explain this to me?” The marshal turns his phone toward you, the lit screen displaying a photo of a dark street, illuminated by red and yellow lanterns. A thick crowd is spread around stalls of fruit and knick-knacks.

The headline reads James Barnes Spotted in Hong Kong with Mystery Woman, and the two of you are circled inside a red ring. You’re teetering off the curb of the sidewalk next to a sewer grate. It’s grainy and distorted, but Bucky’s striking features are clear.

“And this one?”

Bucky’s cap on your head, popsicle sticks between your teeth and his.

Steve Rogers on Jimmy! Jimmy Barnes on a Date!

James Barnes Officially Over Penelope Mercouri.

James Barnes’ Injury?

Fury tucks his device back into his coat. “Not that I care what you get up to on your spare time, but we had a tale to tell. It’s hard pushing an agenda when you’re pushing the wrong way.”

“We just got dinner,” you stutter, an upsurge of guilt rising. The speculation, the kiss, the gut-wrenching reflex that feels like a crime. Fury’s calculating now, looking from you to Bucky, assessing the situation with some pity because you truly look pitiful.

“What you got is PR on cleanup. Potts has been trawling Twitter for the last 20 minutes. For someone who doesn’t want to be in the public eye, you’re making a lot of noise.” He points to Bucky’s jacket still over your shoulders.

You tear it off. “It’s not—”

“Oh no—I won’t be losing sleep any over it.” The marshal’s single eye blinks calmly, “She can spin the story, but you become responsible for this.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, Ranger, that the spotlight is on you now. And there is nowhere to run.”

And if you didn’t think it could get any worse, footfalls down the hallway reach your ears in a pattern that you recognize immediately. Here he is, stepping into your room like it’s his own, suit jacket over his forearm, shirt halfway untucked and tie pulled loose. His lips drawn together and unreadable.

But you read it: Steve’s seen the pictures, too.

And goddamn, if you didn’t think it could get any worse— the earsplitting alarm announcing sudden movement in the breach startles you all.

“Orion Bravo, report to Bay 08, Level B. Codename Polidori. Category 2 Kaiju.” Shuri’s reedy voice is collected but critical. The thin screen next to your bed blinks on primary colors, wavy lines of activity rising and falling, counting down until emergence. Three hours.

Banner streams down the hall. The ruckus drowns him out.

Fury’s dark skin is ochre beneath the lights, “Category II,” he says, “Should be achievable. Odinsons will be on standby, guarding the Miracle Mile. Maximoffs on the coastline. They’ll come to you if necessary. Shelve your personal troubles, Rangers, we’ll continue this conversation later.”

-

Circuitry. Battle armor. Helmet beneath your arm. Muscle memory cuts down the time to seven minutes until you’re set to board, but you need more. Just a few—you have to tell him—better now than later—better from your mouth than from the drift. So, you blurt, “Bucky kissed me.”

Steve turns.

“We kissed. It—it’s nothing. I just needed to tell you before we get in. Didn’t want to seem like I’m hiding anything—I’m not.” It sounds so stupid, like a child admitting fault for breaking a window with a too-hard throw. It sounds like betrayal.

His helmet is gripped tightly in the crook of his elbow. Steve’s chin juts out incrementally, chewing on the inside of his lip, the air around him gone stagnant until he makes a noise both like a scoff and a hum.

“Sure. Fine. I get it—you’re lonely.” It’s worse than any response you expected to receive. “You know what I mean.”

It must be a testament to the depth of your connection now— you knowing him, him knowing you in all the ways that can make an argument escalate into atomic warfare. Precision strikes and then the two of you walking Ground Zero in its aftermath. 

“Wait—you think I’m lonely?” You block his way out, furious. “What the fuck does that— have you met yourself? Girlfriends who will never see you for who you are. Ophelia Reyez? Katherine Lau?”

Orion Bravo. Report to the loading platform.

“I know exactly what I’m doing—do you? I spent all evening on T.V. for you--”

“Oh, boo-fucking-hoo, Mister Martyr in front of a drooling audience telling white lies and screwing a Victoria’s Secret Angel in some penthouse suite— such sacrifices you’ve made in my honor.”

Orion Bravo. Report to the loading platform.

“What the fuck have you done lately?” Steve snaps, “Other than try to fuck my co-pilot?”

His words hit like a kick in the goddamn teeth. You slam your helmet into his chest and the polycarbonate shells knock together violently.

“I’m your fucking co-pilot,” you snarl, “You wanted me.”

Steve steadies himself, twisting until he’s snarling at you down the bridge of his nose, “Enough. We’re being hailed, I’m not breaking this record because of you, and not for a Category II. Get your shit together.”

You grind your molars when he pushes you aside, stumbling on shaking legs. Your brain feels gnarled—misshapen and bent up in sharp, jagged points—and as much as you want to stomp his goddamn face in, he’s right: you can’t feel this way. You can’t. It’s your first drop in two years with the best pilot by your side—and you’re responsible for his life. The last one proved disastrous, and you cannot risk that again.

Your suit feels heavier with each step. When you climb in after Steve, the rig feels more obstinate. Your head, chest, heart are all swollen with turmoil and hot rage.

He’s next to you, breathing deeply. You mimic, shelving personal troubles like the marshal commanded.

Out of alignment, the automated voice of the system calls, and you push it back further, grabbing the entire shelf and hurling it into the depths. Steve sends you an incisive look. A blame. You take a breath, another, and another. Fuck!

“Orion.” The heads-up display spotlights Bucky’s face in the control room, emotionless. “Focus.”

You inhale one more time, seeking reassurance in his unwavering gaze—necessary peace in the silhouette of his phantom left arm. Bucky. Steve. Natasha. You. There can be no more loss. You cannot let it happen again.

Levels stabilizing.

To your right, Steve makes a noise like he’s shaking something off.

Neural Handshake complete.

Bucky stands behind the glass, watching aircrafts lower their hooks. A nod of his dark head is the last thing you see before Orion is lifted from the hangar.

-

There would be a fucking storm.

You’ve always hated fighting in the rain because Kaiju are enormous, slippery, alien amphibians, and Orion’s left fist slides off more times than you’d like. This one’s much smaller than Orion, which allows it the slight advantage of speed, slicing through the water like a shark, corkscrewing for an extra boost of velocity before emerging with a splash from behind.

A miss when you and Steve weave away, hazarding a minor scratch to the right shoulder before Orion’s shield knocks it back.

Despite the vexing evening and the simmering hurt in the pit of your chest, the drift is steady. So, you take it for what it is, cast the rust off your bones, and the two of you do some fucking damage on this thing.

Banner named it Polidori, after the writer credited with inventing the vampire genre. K-Science sonars detected protruding fangs and petal flaps folded on its back like vestigial wings. So, Polidori, he shrugged, it’s cute.

You discover with swift horror that the flaps are neither vestigial nor cute when Polidori pulls one sliver of leathery skin free with a splat. An atrocious shriek rings over the storm as it struggles with its own body, then another shriek and the left pillar continues to stretch, knobby blunt end of its shoulder blade shooting high, ripping itself full of gaping holes in its endeavor. 

Banner was more accurate than he realized.

“Orion!” Shuri’s voice is sharp, “Bring it down! Do not let it into the air! Use your cannon!”

You’re frozen stuck, eyes squeezed shut at the sight of stretched membrane. A terrified whimper and a puncture of nauseating memory nicks at Steve’s concentration.

No! Levels spike on the HUD screen. Fuck! Steve is caught in the undertow and the rig jams beneath both your feet.

“Orion! You’re out of alignment! Orion!”

She’s here.

Natasha’s bright hair is unfurling all around you. There’s deafening splintering when the incisors of her killer punctures through Decima’s chest and both her legs. Metal grinds against metal, the sound searing itself into your eardrums—your brain—your heart. Wings are beating—wild flaps of rubbery sails against the downpour—muffling screams from Decima’s cockpit.

It’s as real and cruel as the last time you saw it.

Bi Fang, like the bird from Chinese mythology, beaked and blessed with flight to make up for its one leg. Bi Fang the Kaiju was legless, and Natasha was convinced Decima could take it. You had no reason to think otherwise; five previous kills cultivated your confidence. You had her by your side, after all. Two orphans with something to prove, proving it again and again.

Wings and fangs? No legs? Six is an auspicious number. The smirk on her lips blooms fiercely. You’re laughing when Decima hovers above the water. Alright, Tasha. Six drops.

A tremendous splash and you touch ground.

She grins. Six kills.

Polidori has one limb fully flexed, fragmenting pixels bending into the shape of Bi Fang. Natasha is bending, too, lowering her center of gravity. Her elbows are against her ribs, fists set. This is gonna hurt. Come to–

Come to me! To me!

He’s stepping in ink. In water. And then metal is beneath Steve’s feet. There are flashes of rain, lightning, and he recognizes her dead center of the storm. 

Natasha Romanoff, vibrant and joyful through the glass of her helmet. You, next to her, reciprocal smile on your face stuck in hysteria, tears streaming down your cheeks in wide stripes. Steve’s hand is reaching but going nowhere. Echoes overlap of crying and shouting. Yours. Hers. His.

Come to me!

He yells again, but you’ve chased the rabbit too far.

Come to me!

He’s trying his hardest, stretching himself like ropes to bridge the fissure. He feels your fear, your hurt, and for a flash, it eats him whole, spits him out a twisted-up way and his brain screams for Bucky.

Bucky is doing the same through the control room, reaching his will out to Steve, praying their connection still holds despite their distance. He’s yelling for you, too.

“Steve! Get the hell out of it! Steve, you need to get her!”

The ripping of his red left arm loops three times in quick succession before Steve can temper it down. Bucky is howling, crying, sobbing. Steve is breathless, stuck, rattled, steeling his entire body to witness the amputation for another inescapable replay until your frozen body smears across his blurry field of vision. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Bright whites burst behind his eyelids. Flares of panicked emotion. Bucky. Natasha. Him. You. An endless rippling chain of trauma lashing Orion open.

“Come on— Steve! It’s moving! Steve!”

“Buck! I’m— I’m okay! Just— need a second.” Steve scrambles for his sanity, latching on, knowing Bucky’s well— alive and not hurt. Shuri begins urging him to get up faster. Polidori’s moving slow, but it is moving, and it needs to be put down now. She’s calling for the Odinsons—Colossus, be prepared to walk-

The metal under Steve’s feet slides away. Water returns, ink flowering behind it—molasses and murky. His steps are unsteady, chest heaving as he advances through a field of speckled glimmers like fireflies at dusk. Each flicker reflects an agonized shard of your distorted face.

A flit of your voice rushes behind his head. Steve whips around and tries to catch it but no such luck.

Again, to the right, then gone each time he spins. It builds and builds until he feels half-deaf, frantically invoking your name into the ether where it becomes lost in dissonance. Butterfly-winged iridescence scatter and plummet, shrieking, shrieking, shrieking. 

Then, nothing.

He finds you crumpled over on Anchorage’s shore.

Decima reaches sand as a crackling mess of Jaeger parts, chest piece ripped clean off the right side. You clamber out of the rig, hugging Natasha’s mutilated corpse. Your drivesuit is split open down to the hip, the glass of your helmet fractured and splattered with blood from your nose– still dripping.

He shakes his head, attempting to free himself of your scarred clutch. You had been hooked into the rawest fear—linked up when she died— gored and broken with half your brain believing it is also dead. Chills race up his spine and breaks him out in a cold sweat. He feels strangled to his very soul.

Then, seizures take you—the casualties of solo piloting—the neural damage come to collect. Nobody know how many miles you steered Decima alone and truthfully, it should have killed you.

Your eyes roll up to the sky, body convulsing before slamming into the ground like a rag doll, shaky fingers still reaching for your co-pilot. Steve shudders quietly, flinching with each impact. A final wail and everything slackens to a dull vibration. You quiver on the sand, howling and crying for Nat.

Polidori’s right wing casts itself loose, jaw opening wide. Steve’s on a time limit; there are only a few grains left in the hourglass. He croaks your name.

A second of recognition triggers from behind the curtain and it’s miraculously enough for you to see him. It’s enough.

He begs. He begs on his goddamn knees, crawling to you.

Look at me, only at me. Come back to me, please. Please. Please.

Steve gathers you in his arms, both of you trembling and afraid. Your suit heals itself, pieces stitching back together, blood little by little disappearing from your nose. Natasha shimmers away. 

He presses the glass of your helmets together. He needs to get closer.

Steve? S-Ste-Steve—Steve?

You’re still crying. You’re breaking his heart.

Yes. I’m here.

St-Steve, what d-d-do I do?

You’ve got me now. I’m here with you. You understand?

He can see you struggling to escape, consciousness clawing with nails and teeth to return to the present.

Yeah. Y-Yes.

We have to move.

Steve—Steve—everything hurts.

Just for now. Just for a little bit—but I’ll make it better, I promise. Nothing’s gonna hurt you again. Will you hold on to me? Do you trust me?

Y-yes… Yes, yes. I trust you.

The rig lurches back to life beneath his feet. Jittery and creaking with strain, Orion rocks forward with a rumble. The drift stirs once more, noise giving way to silence.

Steve’s vision clears. You’re back in the present, precariously grounding your strength inside his guidance. You raise an unsteady left arm. He powers it up. Energy surges through the cockpit, tremors running up your side as it charges. Your hand splays. Steve’s palm takes aim.

Activating plasma cannon.

The beam pierces Polidori’s shoulder and its roar chases a simultaneous thunderclap.

A crack of lightning flushes the sky purple. Orion’s right arm lifts high above its head and slams back down, the glowing hot edge of its shield cleaving through Polidori’s skull.

-

Bucky’s grip on the control room’s railing feels like it could warp metal. Wilson is on his right, other pilots in a row next to him. All is silent.

Through the relay of Orion’s camera, Polidori’s writhes one final time. A death throe—pathetic trilling drowned by rising water, falling into deep darkness. Overhead, Kaiju clean-up advances, jet engines rumbling behind an ashy horizon. Orion’s shield retreats to its side with a wet, sloppy sound. The handshake pulled through. Steve got to you.

Abruptly, the room vibrates with the shouting of about fifty voices. Sam is banging on the railing, strong fists rocking the entire length of it, roaring with glee. The others are even wilder— shoving each other in triumph.

Bucky tunes it out, waiting for quieter confirmation. He can hear the both of you despite the racket. Steve’s steady pants, cut with throaty relief—this one, Bucky’s familiar with. Your small, weak sobs strangled with tears—this one, he’s quickly learned, but knows now in his bones.

“Twelve drops,” you announce hoarsely. Raw. “B-Buck?”

He grins, dazed comfort rushing over, your voice chasing the torture away.

“Twelve kills, sweetheart,” Bucky says, “You did it.”

-

The raucous celebration in the Shatterdome simmers down around four, sunrise just a couple hours behind the horizon. Unruliness had broken out, triggering a party that lasted from the time Orion got picked up ‘til now, and still there’s chatter in the common room. 

It’s normal; Anchorage celebrated too after most kills—as long as no one died.

You’re freshly showered and changed, barefoot as you patter it back to your room. Voices from other beds are lowered as you pass—friends taking banter back to private spaces, couples pressed up against each other. All standard-issue revelry to commemorate the endurance of life.  

It’s how these things go. Violence on a massive scale, humanity threatened with extinction—the people closest to death feel it the most. When routine becomes monotony, it’s good once in a while to be stimulated again.

Damn near two thousand people in close quarters—Rangers in perfect form, friendships assembled on the foundation of sharing an exceptionally singular purpose. Even Pentecost in all his grave formalities couldn’t ward off human nature. Plenty of pilots hooked up with each other and other staff in Anchorage and no one cared as long as it didn’t muck anything up on the job. At least the marshal could control that; mishandle your personal relationships and you’d be off the docket for your next drop.

Sex is biology. Desire is human.

It’s hard for you to feel human this morning. Exhausted by the fight and the prior evening—awake now for over 24 hours, you broke away from the commons as soon as you arrived, spending an hour simply breathing in the steam, the habit achingly comforting. Your chest still feels tight, heart bloated with invasive flashbacks.

You used to decompress with Natasha. A few drinks, tales from the cockpit, shadowboxing and putting on a show, glad to be in the company of friends— to be back safely with each other. Then you’d scatter with the crowd, meet her in the showers, and help her wash her hair in silence. Nothing but the trickle of shampoo down the drain.

She’d cry, sometimes. Catharsis, mostly. Curled up in your arms, the both of you cozy in pajamas on the floor. Then off to bed where she’d climb under your sheets, falling sleep with her head on your shoulder, your fingers in her hair.

A love unspoken. A home in the shape of a twin-sized bottom bunk. Cramped and narrow. Too brief.

You sigh. Everything hurts.

A few rooms away from yours, Steve’s door is open just enough for a line of orange to escape. You know he’s there, waiting patiently as he has been. You went near catatonic on the way back, lying down in the cockpit, no longer needing to be hooked up. You shed the armor, holed yourself into the corner of Orion’s hull, and said nothing when he sat by your side.

Walking in front of the light, he places himself in the entrance way until he’s looking at you. His face is a gentle blue shadow, resplendent halo glorious behind his head. He’s dressed in soft pants and a t-shirt damp at the collar. A droplet of water runs down his neck.

It emerges like an orchestral arrangement. Leisurely notes creep into your ears—a tune you’ve always known. Plucks of strings, escalating windchimes. It echoes, the trails on his skin, his measured breath, his percussive voice layering and pleating until there are dozens of him.

Look at me. Come to me. I need you.

You feel it all at once. A knotted, chaotic tempest. Hesitation. Confusion. Ache. Bucky. Him. You. Your eyes lock with his. A mistake and a revelation.

Steve holds out a steady hand. You take a step, terrified, pulled into his overwhelming atmosphere like magnets, your bodies humming a secret frequency, purring for each other.

The drift opened everything up, but the battle tore it all out. The both of you are laid bare, everything else fallen away.

Nothing’s gonna hurt you again. You’ve got me now, you understand?

You reach the shadow he casts, eclipsed entirely by his bulk. Steve threads his fingers between yours and with a tug, you surrender your worries to him.

He’s kissing you before the door is entirely shut and latched. He fumbles for the locks, wraps his arms around your waist. A click and a clatter. He moans into your mouth. 

You exhale from deep inside your chest. He inhales like it’s all the oxygen he needs.

Your hands move to one place, his hands to another. Before your bodies can savor it, the both of you have roamed on, reading each other’s minds, knowing what’s next.

More. More. More.

It’s impatient and fast and Steve picks you up with ease. You forget yourself, forget the world outside the room, outside the three-by-three tile area of where he’s got you lifted, legs wrapped tight around his hips. Fingers dive into the back of your pants, squeezing, up your shirt, pawing at your breasts.

His groans blow heat onto your neck. You arch away, giving him more skin to brand kisses onto. He nips at your throat, light, then again, rough. His voice is raw and thick, husky little clouds making their home on your body.

Gentle sucking on your bottom lip follow each kiss. He takes you to bed, dropping himself onto the mattress, you on top of him. He’s been in your head; he knows what you like. Knows where you want him. Your voice is getting higher, sounds quick and shallow.

Steve guides you with one hand on your hip and the other beneath your thigh, soft pajama bottoms pressing against his. He groans each time you rock forward, needy for more contact against his groin.

You’ve been in his head, too. He likes feeling hands in his hair, so you grip his flaxen strands. He likes hearing, so you make a little more noise. He likes seeing his partner helpless because of him, losing all control, falling apart for him.

So you do. 

Pleasure rushes from the top of your head to the tip of your toes, his name burning in your throat. It’s an incredible shock and you’re spellbound, enraptured by him drinking in the parting of your swollen lips. Quickly, he places you on his thigh, enormous and strong, needing a better position to see— to feel you on him. Hungry attention, eager eyes, pleading like a mother tongue.

“Keep coming for me. Just like this— don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

The shamelessness of it—your underwear soaked to your pants. The fever of it—his body like a fire, low, husky begging just from watching lighting up your spine. It’s extraordinary adrenaline— the heightened and profound connection of knowing one another in every way—as if you were made for each other.

Animal instinct liberated from human sentience. Desire pursuing release. Two bodies colliding and igniting.

You can’t stop the next cresting wave, crying out again.

Steve pushes you on his leg repeatedly, back and forth, solid and firm between your thighs even as you shudder and whimper, telling him it’s too much— you’re too sensitive. He kisses your neck, jaw, chin, cheek. He doesn’t stop moving.

“Hold on to me.”

A bead of sweat collects on the dip of your cupid’s bow. He looks at how sweetly your skin shimmers as you shiver, how your pupils are blown wide, how you look so perfect to him. He presses his forehead to yours, looks into your eyes like the way he did in the drift.

You reach for him and rub in quick strokes, fumbling when he rocks you back, gripping when he rocks you forward. Parted lips hover, “One more time for me—ah, please,” he begs, “Before I do.”

But he’s too late and too heated. Steve makes a mess of his sleeping pants, taken over the edge by how you feel without hardly feeling you at all. He buries a groan into your shoulder, riding it out with indelicate thrusts into your palm.

“Oh,” he murmurs, “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.”

He’s blush pink and beautiful when he remembers himself again, rubbing his cheek against yours. He knows what you’re thinking— the realization in the comedown, the leaching fear of what could have been a mistake. But it isn’t, and Steve remains faithful to your body.

“Stay. I’m sorry—for hurting you. I’ll make it better.” Velvet kisses to your lips and you shake your head, apologies no longer necessary.

A whisper of his name like it’s the most radiant word. You cling to him, kissing him, answering only to him.

-

In the afternoon when Steve is still sleeping, you retreat to your room. You pause at the sight of Bucky already on your bed, caught in the bleary focus of his gaze. With lashes soaked wet, his throat constricts around a forceful swallow.

“Hey,” he says, voice breaking on the syllable. He pats the space next to him and you come sit, turning your knees until they knock into his.

“Bucky…”

He laughs like you’ve told a joke, like the sound of his own name is a funny thing escaping your mouth. “Hoped I could catch you last night, before—” he laughs again. “—Before bed. Just wanted to—I guess I don’t know what I wanted to do.”

The hurt resurfaces. You find him through the rose-dappled lenses of Steve’s eyes. Those warm summers with two boys running wild, effortlessly devoted to each other. Your heart swells like you’re there, gazing at russet locks flying in the wind. Years and years between them—Bucky’s smile, lopsided and carefree. Steve’s gaze, illuminating Bucky in every memory.

“Bucky,” you say again, so wonderfully soft, he thinks, even as his chest feels stretched to bursting. “You love him.”

He places his temple on your shoulder, face hidden by the long strands of his hair.

“You’ve been in his head. He’s easy to love.”

“Yes,” you agree, touching his bangs, pushing them over his ear, streaking four affectionate lines through, “He is.”

“So are you.”

Bucky turns into your palm, smiling openly, like the truth is the simplest thing in the world.

[janewatson]

Helluva Boss Trailer Analysis!

Yes, I watch this.  Yes, I like it.  No, I won’t argue with you about it.

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s just say that I was up when the trailer dropped, and was still up for a bit after.  I’ve watched it so many times now, just absorbing everything, and now it’s time to break it down.

I’ve seen a few breakdowns already, but I noticed that there were a few things people hadn’t mentioned.  So I’m tossing my hat in the ring, let’s see if we can figure out what Vivziepop has in store for us!

I’ll be breaking down by scene, as well as go over voiceovers and predictions real quick, so prepare for a read after the cut!

Ok, first, had to laugh at Millie’s Peppermint Vodka Molotov Cocktail.  Creative, but what a waste of vodka :(  The background is of a beach, but she’s not in beach clothes (let’s face it, a bikini would probably kill Moxxie)

Moxxie is shooting at something while he’s swinging from a rope in a deserted theater.  Piano on the floor, and a sun pattern on the back wall

Blitzø (thanks for the copy/paste, Google) cleaving a blonde in half with a baseball bat.  Damn, he stronk!

Diss Summar’, with the little doodles!  So cute :3

Drunk/drugged/in shock Moxxie, poor Millie, and something big bursting out from the water behind.  Tied to first scene?

Stolas’ ‘Special Access’ bit from the Sneak Peeks, talking about the Harvest Moon festival in Wrath

Moxxie and Blitzø in a green lit room, looks like a two-way mirror on the wall.  Interrogation?

Correction to ‘Diss Season’ XD  Hopefully that means we’ll get an episode before spring, but if they need more time, that’s understandable

Glammed up Stolas at some kind of burlesque, owned by Asmodeus ‘Ozzie’, Prince of Hell’s Lust circle.  Wonder why he’s there...

CHERUBS!!!  Also from the Sneak Peeks, we know that this is a commercial, and that the TV showing said commercial gets blown up a few seconds later

Angry Blitzø, probably yelling at Moxxie, being scared shitless by a hellhound behind him.  I think this is a repo/impound/chop-shop guy who took IMP’s van, as in a later scene, they’re shown in a fence with other cars, especially because Blitzø yells ‘RUN’ at the end of the scene

Loona and Blitzø filming someone’s misery (again, probably Moxxie).  They’re in western outfits, but they’re probably still in Hell

Tentacle wrapping around drugged Moxxie and taking him, too fast for Millie to react and stop it.  Again, looks like it’s tied to the first and fifth scenes

Sassy Blitzø, probably talking to the repo-hellhound or punching-bag Moxxie.  Same setting as scene 11

Blitzø running to the window of what looks like a recording studio, with ‘VM’ spray painted on the doors next to him.  He looks distraught, but it’s not clear why

Recently choked-out Moxxie recovering, while being frame by a spiny-tailed Imp wearing what I assume is a serape, since it looks like they’re on the ranch Loona and Blitzø cheered a poor soul, scene 12

DEPRESSED BIRD DADDY.  WHY ARE YOU SAD???  IS IT GONNA MAKE ME SAD??? OH NO I’M NOT READY unless its a flashback, but stilllll

Perturbed Blitzø holding his special flintlock in a western-themed room.  Looks like he has his outfit from scene 12 on, probably the same episode, but whatever happened/is going to happen, it’s not good

Dressed-up Moxxie, who probably jumped bombed a performance, is upstaged by Robo Fizz and most likely a Robo Ozzie, given the designs on its’ head(s).  He looked uneasy even before the Robos popped up, so something else was going on first.

Scaley eye blinking and getting MAD, attached to the tentacle that kidnapped Moxxie?

50% off add for Spring Break victims, complete with coffee stain, and Blitzø‘s horse doodles.  I got a mental image of Moxxie scolding Blitzø for drawing at work, so he BS’d it into an ad.

Either Blitzø is a terrible driver, or they’re trying to speed away from someone.  Repo-hound, maybe?

HUMAN!!!  Almost definitely a human pop-star singing on a Coachella-esque stage!  I tried to fill in her name, but could only get ideas of what some letters were.  Her initials are most likely VM, from the recording studio scene, but the bottoms of some letters could be an E or L, K or R, so we’re left with V~(L/E)(K/R)OSI(K/R)A MA~~.  It also looks like she’s wearing heels, so she may be the person who threw Blitzø in a later scene

Moxxie about to be trampled by what can only be a horse, given his outfit.  Loona and Blitzø are probably filming XD

Shocked Stolas, standing up at table.  Same outfit as the burlesque, but he doesn’t looked surprised enough that it’s the part where Moxxie is upstaged, more something emotionally jarring.  Blitzø kissing someone else, maybe?

Blitzø pushing Moxxie out of the way and pinning him just outside a Hell portal in an alley, most likely Earth.  Blitzø looks mad, and rightly so, as he’s looking a little beat up himself.  Connected to the interrogation scene?

Happy Blitzø turns horrified outside some elevators with Moxxie.  Judging by the water cooler in the back, I think he’s about to slam into the recording studio.  Behind him, Moxxie gives no shits

Blitzø looking miffed, maybe at something Moxxie said.  Looks like the same scene with the repo-hound, as the setting itself looks like an impound lot, with the IMP van smack-dab in the middle of it.  I love that the license plate is IMP-666 though

Unhappy Blitzø (ok, let’s be honest, when IS he happy?)

Moxxie swinging Millie around in the deserted theater, passionately frenching each other

Blitzø getting pushed down by a horned, high-heeled... someone.  Again, might be the pop star from earlier, but there’s horns...  Maybe the pop star is human-passing, and has an alternate demonic form, like the Hazbin Hotel cast?

Western-clad Blitzø pulling his flintlock on someone, most likely before scene 18.  Most definitely Hell, judging by the poster and previous scenes, but I’m digging the décor

Blitzø not getting a break at all during this trailer and being yeeted into a dumpster, which closes on him.  Gonna take a stab and say it’s outside the burlesque Stolas and Moxxie were in, from the colors and posters of Lust Ring, Personal Companion Robo-Fizz, and Angel Dust.

The next scene is of him climbing out of a dumpster to fall into another pile of trash.  He just doesn’t get a break, does he?  It doesn’t look like the dumpster outside the burlesque, but it is similar to the alley with the hell portal, where Blitzø pinned Moxxie.  Maybe not the same scene, but most likely same episode.

Editor being absolutely plastered, teasing all the fun stuff to come in 2021, since 2020 can go f*ck itself.

And that’s a really in-depth breakdown of all the scenes in the trailer!  Now, for the voiceovers.

First, Loona’s asking if anyone ‘Can feel that?’.  Interesting thing to ask, so we’ll have to wait and see what catastrophe happens

Millie gently yelling at Moxxie to ‘DON’T PANIC’

A calm voice announcing an elevator’s departure to the Lust circle of Hell, which is most likely where the burlesque and Robo scenes are.  As to who is going, it’s either Stolas or the IMP crew, or maybe both?

Horny Stolas cooing ‘Oh, Blitzy!’, followed by Loona’s ‘SHUT THE F*CK UP’ from the Loo Loo Land episode.  Finally, I have a high-res clip I can set as my ringtone!

Blitzø yelling  ‘Dammit, Moxxie, this is all your fault!’, which may or may not be true since he scapegoats Moxxie, who replies ‘How is this my fault???’

Pop star asking, ‘Y’all ready to get f*cked up and make some b*tchin’ bad choices?’.  It’s most likely her talking, since the her lips synch up with her scene, and it’s a new voice we haven’t heard before.

Moxxie’s cut off ‘M*THERF*CKER!!!’.  So happy I get to hear Invader Zim go off, poor boy needs it XD

Blitzø being Blitzø and trying to tone down a big deal, stating again that he doesn’t pry into their personal lives, even though he obvious does (see Helluva Boss Pilot for more)

Robo Fizz’s line from Loo Loo Land asking if anybody loved Blitzø.  I’m gonna be honest and say that line choked me up in Loo Loo Land, and so did Blitzø’s response, until ‘But I’m really good with guns now.  DANCE, B*TCH!’

Moxxie ending with ‘That is deeply unsettling’, again from Loo Loo Land.  Throwing shade on Helluva Boss haters, maybe? :3

All right, now, predictions!

Chaos in a theater, with focus maybe on Millie and Moxxie’s relationship, maybe an origin story?  It won’t be the only one, with the tentacle beach monster and drugged Moxxie bits, so we can expect a lot of story and character development from the two of them.

Farm episode!  Blitzø either drags them onto a farm, or there’s a client who invites them, but sh*t will happen.

Really excited to see what happens in the Lust ring, and for the return of Robo Fizz!  Baby boy only got a few minutes of screen time, but is currently my favorite character.

Repo episode of rescuing the IMP van, probably resulting in overall team building and character development.  I really want to see Loona tear a new one into that *sshole-looking hellhound, though.

Pop star episode!  Really excited to meet this new character, I wonder what her name is and how close I was XD  Either Blitzø and Moxxie break into her recording studio to meet her, or she’s a client, but we’ll see!

Trapped on Earth/Run in with Earth authorities episode?  That interrogation room didn’t exactly look Hellish, and they obvious meet some kind of resistance while on Earth that looked like it was gonna get messy...

Stolas episode!  Please please please be flashback and story, I loved Loo Loo Land but really want some more lore and development on his character and maybe relationship with Blitzø.  Bird obviously needs to work through some things, and I really want to watch him grow, ever since I saw him struggle to tell Octavia why he was cheating.  Him stuttering and ultimately being unable to find a reason why really hit home, and I’m glad it was something they included since in media, it’s always ‘Well, she’s really ugly’ or ‘I don’t love him anymore’.  He still has feelings for his wife, but wanted to f*ck Blitzø too.

Even without the trailer, we do know that we’re getting episodes focusing on CHERUB and a Harvest Moon festival, but still.  There’s so much content Vivzie and Co have been working hard to make, and I can’t wait to see what they have in store for us.  Dark comedy aside, there’s so much story they can make just around these four characters, following their growth and happenings around Hell.  It’s such a cool premise and one that hasn’t been washed and worn so many times, like cop or murder shows, and I can see this going on for quite a bit.

Well, here’s to an exciting 2021!  Thank you for all your hard work, Vivizepop, keep it up!

[thesilencebeforeastorm]

Wild Night - Eren x Reader

A/n: Since it’s Eren’s birthday today, what better way to celebrate it than with some smut ;) 5k + words later and this masterpiece was born lmao enjoy the filth! Fic is in first person, reader’s p.o.v! Dom Eren as well!

“(Y/n)!”

The voice of Sasha calling out my name snapped me out of my thoughts as I was doodling some random drawing on my paper. I knew that with the tone of her voice, she had some random idea she was going to throw at me that she wanted me to do with her. I stopped drawing and waited to see what it was.

“What are your plans for later?” she asked me.

I looked at the time. “Wallow in my sadness while watching my show, what crazy idea do you want me to do with you now?”

Sasha frowned. “Oh don’t be such a buzzkill! You’re gonna like this one. There’s a party going on tonight and I want you to come with me.”

I knew it. It was another one of her boring parties that she was going to drag me along with and try to set me up with some douchebag. I continued doodling. 

“Nope, not interested.”

“Aw come onnnnn, why not?” I noticed Sasha’s pouty face from my side eye.

“Because this is gonna just be another one of your lame hookups that you’re trying to set me up with. 

“Well... yes but no! I promise you this one will be different!”

Yeah sure , I thought to myself. I decided to turn around to face her.  “Who’s the guy then?

Sasha seemed to have some hope in her eyes. “His name is Eren Jaeger. It’s his birthday today.”

“Jaeger? What is he, a drink?”

Sasha’s mouth dropped wide open. “Oh you cannot be serious, this is no time for games! Just come with me pleaseeeeeee. It’ll be worth it I promise. If not then you’ll never have to go with me to a party again.”

Sasha used those puppy eyes of hers on me hard. I rolled my eyes, deciding that maybe a “fun” night out would be better than my show. I also wanted to see what was so interesting about this Eren guy.

“Fine I’ll go, as long as you get those puppy eyes out of my face”, I said as I laughed and nudged her out of my way. 

~

A few hours went by and me and Sasha arrived at the house. It was his house apparently and the place was packed. I noticed red cups being passed around, the smell of booze filling the air. The music was pretty loud, though not enough to make me bleed out of my eardrums so that was good at least. I noticed a couple of our mutual friends like Jean, Marco and Connie. Connie was as usual making an absolute fool of himself dancing and Jean and Marco were chatting it up though I don’t know how the hell they could even hear each other. Me and Sasha were passed cups by some blonde chick named Annie who I recognized was a girl from our school. I was surprised she was even here since she mostly kept to herself. I drank some of my cup, the alcohol stinging my throat a bit but it was enough to handle. I looked around to see if I recognized anyone else while I almost spit my drink out as my eyes landed on some guy. Sasha noticed me almost choked on my drink and she leaned in close to speak into my ear.

“Hey you okay??”

“Who the fuck is that?” I asked her, tilting my head up to point in front of me. That’s when she had the biggest smirk on her face and she laughed. “That’s Eren”.

My eyes widened slightly as I looked at him up and down. He had long brown hair that was a little longer than his shoulders and tanned skin. He was tall, shorter than my friend Jean as I remembered but not short either. He wore a long sleeve shirt with jeans as he crossed his arms, drink in his hand while chatting up with someone. I must’ve been staring at him too long cause he suddenly looked to his side and noticed me staring at him and also looked at me up and down. I took notice of his green eyes and I felt my pussy throb on the spot. 

“Oh, I am so fucking that”, I said out loud to her. 

Sasha looked at me surprised. I guess she was thinking that I finally found some guy interesting. 

“You like him?” she asked me. 

“Do I like him? Sasha look at him, he’s hot! You didn’t tell me that.” 

She shook her head. “That’s cause you never wanna listen to me!”

I rolled my eyes at her before turning back to Eren and noticed he was coming this way. My way. 

“Oh fuck, he’s coming this way. What do I do?” I asked, slightly nervous that he already noticed me that fast. A girl could still feel nervous right?

“Talk to him”, Sasha said as she started to walk away, giggling. 

“Sasha, get back he-” I was going to yell out to her but got cut off as I had Eren standing in front of me. I took in a deep breath as he got close to my ear to speak.

“I’ve never seen you around here, What’s your name?”

What’s my name? Oh you’re gonna know my name when I - 

“(Y/n). I’m Sasha’s friend.” 

He took a step back and looked over to where Sasha was standing, no more like dancing her ass off already with Connie. The girl was already acting a fool. He looked back down at me, taking notice of my figure with a smirk on his face. I took more notice of his features like his facial hair, his lips and his collar bones that poked out of his shirt. Oh how badly did I want to suck on that. He got close to my ear again and placed his hand on my shoulder. 

“Well you enjoy yourself at the party then”.

I felt my body tense up a bit at his hand, not expecting to be on my shoulder already but I still didn’t mind. “Yeah I will and happy birthday”.

“Thanks” he replied before walking away to talk to someone else. 

~

The party was pretty good, much to my surprise. The music wasn’t crappy, the alcohol wasn’t bad and everyone pretty much danced or chatted around. They kept the party lively which is what I liked because if it didn’t fit my standards I would hold Sasha to her word about never going with her to a party again. I danced with Sasha at one point, though she was already drunk out of her mind while I was only tipsy. Seemed it would be my job to take her drunk ass home so I didn’t want to keep drinking. I noticed Eren from time to time, sneaking occasional glances at me. I didn’t really notice a huge difference in his behavior so either he wasn’t drinking that much or he could handle his alcohol really well. Whatever it was, I realized I had to pee badly so I made my way upstairs to use the bathroom. It was pretty quiet up here in the sense that you didn’t hear the blasted music in your ears and you could actually make conversation up here if you wanted to. Eren’s bathroom was pretty decent, no one had trashed it yet much to my relief. I was done in the bathroom and cleaned up before I left and was going to make my way downstairs when I felt a hand grab me and pull me into a room. Panic was the first response I had in my body but before I could respond, the door closed, my back pressed against the door as a familiar voice whispered in my ear. 

“Don’t worry, it’s me”. It was Eren. 

I sighed in relief, though I was slightly annoyed. “You scared me, you asshole”.

He chuckled against my ear. “Sorry about that. Had to get you in here without anyone seeing us”.

God, his voice… I couldn’t really hear it to the best of my ability downstairs with the loud music but now that we were alone in the room, I could hear his baritone voice, sending shivers down my spine. Having his body pressed against me with his lips lightly touching my cheek only made me ache to feel him more. 

“How’s the party been so far…?” he asked me, pressing light kisses against my cheek as he worked his way down to my neck. I moaned softly in response to his lips pressing against my skin. I tried to think of how to answer his question but I was distracted with what he was doing. 

“G-good..” I replied. He continued kissing my neck before he whispered again. 

“You’ve been looking at me all night. Mind telling me what that’s all about?” 

I was going to answer him this time but he bit down into my neck, causing me to moan again. I grabbed on to his arm, the answer I was going to give him coming out messy. 

“I - could..I could say..the same to you…” I panted out. He was making it pretty difficult to speak. 

He took a step back for a moment and tilted my chin up to look at him, his height adding some intimidation to mine. The look in his eyes was enough to know that he wanted this as badly as I did. He looked at me with hunger in his eyes, like a lion ready to pounce in his prey. Without another second wasted, his lips crashed into mine, a groan escaping his mouth and a moan escaping mines. I parted my mouth as his tongue slipped into mine desperately, to which I did the same in return, feeling the stubble of his facial hair against my lips. I could taste the alcohol on his tongue which made the kiss more intoxicating than it already was. His hand glided all over my body, landing on my ass and giving it a tight squeeze, causing me to moan again. I ran my fingers through his hair and tugged it towards me, wanting to feel him closer to me than he already was. I felt a rush of heat between my legs as my pussy already started to get wet for him. He bit on my bottom lip, tugging at it hard before diving back into my mouth once more with his tongue. God, he was such an amazing kisser. 

He pulled back for a moment to not only catch his breath but to remove his shirt and when I saw him shirtless, my mouth literally w a t e r e d. His abs were so toned, his v line now being exposed above the waistband of his jeans. I couldn’t admire it any longer before he lunged at me again, my body pressing hard against the door again as he went for another kiss, his tongue sloppily slipping past my lips. I could hear the music from downstairs playing loudly as background noise which only made it more exciting that I was going to get fucked by this hot guy in a house full of people like the desperate whore that I was. Gotta please the birthday boy right?

~

I felt his bulge press up against me, the friction making me want to grind up against him. I decided that I could do that later and that there would be other ways I could please him. I broke the kiss and started to pull at the belt on his pants as he went for my neck again, sucking harshly on the spot above my collar bone. I moaned loudly, my hands gripping tightly on his belt as he sucked on my sweet spot which I was sure would leave a mark. I tried my best to fumble with his belt before I finally got it off, unzipping his jeans and placed my hand inside to palm his dick outside of his boxers. He groaned again as I applied more pressure to his bulge, my mind going crazy with the idea of how it looked and tasted. No longer being able to control myself, I pushed him off of me, a string of saliva being noticeable as we parted. I got on my knees and took his dick out his pants only to be amazed at how good it looked. He was a bit longer than average with pre cum leaking out of his dick tip. I placed my hand around the base of his cock and licked up the underside of it before I moved my tongue in circles around his slit and head to taste the pre cum. I looked at him while I did so, seeing him take a shuddering breath at my actions. The view from down here was hotter, seeing his loose hair fall down in front of his face, his green eyes slightly widening and his tightly toned abs in full display. I looked back at his dick and gave his head a good few sucks before sliding my mouth further down his length, hallowing my cheeks as I did so. I heard him moan as I felt his hand grab a fist full of my hair into a ponytail to look at him and began to push me further on to his cock. I gagged in response to that but I opened up the back of my throat to make more room for him as he began to thrust into my mouth. I let the base of his dick go to allow myself to move deeper into his mouth and gripped onto his thighs as he continued to fuck my face. His thrust became faster, my gagging louder as his movements continued. His cock tasted so good and I couldn’t get enough of it. I wanted more of him, I wanted him to fuck me hard already. I wanted to moan his name loudly so that everyone in the house heard who was making me feel so good. I was running out of air soon and Eren took notice as he yanked my hair back, leaving me gasping for air as he pulled me up, his grip never letting go. He motioned me to the bed and pushed me on it before climbing on top of me for another hard kiss. He pulled back suddenly, taking a look at my shirt. 

“Take this shit off”, he ordered, looking annoyed and pulling at my shirt which made my pussy dripping wet even more. I could tell that he was a dominant man and that I was in for one wild night. I took off my shirt fast, tossing it somewhere in the room before he lifted me up a bit suddenly and unclipped my bra with one hand and ripped it off of me to toss it to the side. Oh, so he’s got experience I thought to myself as my thoughts were cut off when he placed his mouth on my nipple. I arched my back slightly, gripping the sheets and whined as he began sucking on it harshly, his teeth nibbling on it. He fondled my other breast, pinching and playing with my nipple in his hand. He kept looking up at me, wanting to see the reactions he got out of me as I looked down on him. I started to feel uncomfortable in my jeans so I wiggled to try and take them off. Thankfully Eren got the message and let my nipples go and unzipped my jeans, pulling them off, leaving me only in my panties as he took his jeans and boxers off. I was thankful that I wore a sexy pair tonight, having some bit of hope that the guy Sasha was going to hook me up with was worth my time. He went back up to my breast, taking in both of them in his mouth now and leaving dark marks on my chest as I left his dick press up against my pussy. I let out a shuddering breath as I tried to grind my hips against his cock. One thing I noticed about Eren was that he was really good at understanding body language and began to grind his dick against my panties, the friction against my clit sending sensations to my body. I could only imagine how much better it would feel if I was actually getting fucked. I was growing impatient, the feeling of him grinding against me feeling too good. I pushed him off again, only for him to grab my wrist and hold them above my head. The pressure was sure to leave a mark.  

“I didn’t say you could fucking move”, he growled lowly against my ear. Fuckkkk, that was hot. I didn’t want to listen to him but by the tone of his voice, I could tell that I wasn’t going to be able to dom him. 

“Eren, please…” I whined. I couldn’t take it anymore. 

Something in what I said made him stop what he was doing and met up with my face. His eyes stared at me intensely. “Say my name again”.

“Eren..” I breathed out. “Please”.

“Please what?” he asked me, a smirk forming on his lips. He seemed to like me begging. 

With the way I was speaking, I felt like I was so little. I’ve had my fair share of sexual encounters in the past but it was always a quick fuck. Never have I had someone dom me like this, let alone take their time to make me feel good. It was intoxicating. 

“Please fuck me already”. I didn’t care how I sounded. I wanted him so bad. He motioned himself near my ear. “You gotta be patient baby girl, I haven’t even tasted you yet. I know your pussy is dripping wet for me” he replied, sucking on my earlobe. 

“Ahh” I replied, a shuttered breath leaving my lips again. I tried to close my thighs together for some friction against my aching cunt but his knee moved up and separated them. He chuckled lowly, hearing me whine again. “Push me off again and you’re going to be punished”. My eyes closed for a second, taking in a deep breath before opening them again. As much as I liked the sound of being punished, it could either go one of two ways. Either Eren could be more rough with me or he could leave me here and go back to the party with his friends. I didn’t want to test that out and decided to be good just for him.

“Okay… I won’t…”

“Good girl”, he said before kissing my neck, moving to my breast and moving lower to my stomach. I looked at him, his eyes never looking away from mine, taking a mental note that he loved eye contact. He sat up a bit to remove my panties and spread my legs, my throbbing cunt in full display for him. I bit my lip, suddenly feeling shy as he stared at it for a few seconds. 

~

“You’re fucking beautiful”, he said, his breathing becoming heavy at the realization of just how wet I was for him, licking his lips as he did so. He wasted no time in diving into me, his mouth hungrily sucking on my clit as I let out a sharp cry and gripped the sheets. He gripped my thighs to hold me down and to bring me closer to his face as he continued to taste me, his tongue licking up and down my folds before sucking on my clit again. His tongue dived into my core, driving me wild as I kept moaning his name over and over again. I wasn’t so sure if anyone could hear me with the music going on downstairs but I didn’t give a fuck about that right now. 

“You taste so fucking good, fuck”, I heard him say as I felt him place a finger inside of me, which slid in easily. I gasped at the sensation as he fingered me slowly, licking on my folds. Fuck, he’s teasing me, I thought to myself as I grabbed on to his hair to pull him in closer. I felt that stupid smirk against me again as he inserted a second finger and began to pump into me fast. I could hear the sound of how wet I was which only added to horny I was as he curved his fingers upward and began finger fucking me fast against my g- spot.

“Ahh fuckk!!” I cried out, as he placed his hand above my abdomen to increase the pressure. I tried my best to keep my legs still but I couldn’t so he sat up and leaned a bit in towards me so that my legs were around his waist. I looked at him as he looked at me, the pressure in my lower stomach becoming too much as I felt myself about to cum.

“Please don’t stop Eren, I’m gonna -”. He cut me off.

“You gonna cum for me baby girl?” Fuck, keep calling me that please. 

“Y-yesss” I whimpered as he began to be more rough with me, his fingers moving at an unforgiving pace. I felt a rush of heat spread throughout my body and with a few final pumps, I shouted his name over and over again loud, arching my back and came undone around his fingers, my legs shaking as I did so.

He slowly removed his fingers from me and tasted them before moving back down to my pussy and lapping up all the juices that had spilled out of me. My body shivered, still being sensitive from my intense orgasm as he did so. My shaking legs made it a little difficult to do so but he was able to move them away with his strong hands. 

“Look at how much of a mess you are. We haven’t even gotten to the best part”, he said to me, a cocky grin spread across his face. I swallowed as I looked down at his dick, hard and throbbing just for me. I looked back up at him, aching for more as he positioned himself near my entrance. He pumped his dick a few times before rubbing his tip around my pussy softly. 

“Erennnnn, don’t tease me please”. The feeling of his tip rubbing on my clit made me grind up against him again. 

“Beg for it”.

“What?” I asked him.

“You heard me the first time. Beg for it.”

I rolled my eyes at him in frustration before his body shot up against me, his face inches away from mine as he wrapped his fingers around my neck. “Did you just fucking roll your eyes at me?” The intensity of his gaze made me know he wasn’t messing around. 

I slightly panicked, thinking I was going to get punished. I cursed at myself, wondering why I was feeling like this. It felt like he had total control over me, like I was his and he could do whatever he wanted to me. I wanted more. 

“I - I’m sorry” I sputtered out, the lack of oxygen from him pressing on my sides making me slightly lightheaded but still felt good. “I just want you so bad.”

The intensity of his eyes softened as he let me go and moved back, getting into position and rubbing the head of his dick on my clit again. “If you want me so bad then beg for it”. 

I had no choice. If I wanted him to wreck me then I needed to do what he said. “I want your cock so bad Eren, just fuck me already… please…please…”

That seemed to please him as I felt him push himself into me, a whimper escaping my lips. I felt full as he continued to push into me slowly, his body leaning over he half way and I gripped his arms and allowed myself to adjust to his size. God, it felt so good. I had been wanting this ever since I saw him earlier and now the moment was finally here. He moved his hips back before diving into me again slowly, gritting against his teeth at the sensation. 

“You’re so tight, when was the last time you got fucked?” he asked me, as he pulled back slowly and dived into me again. 

I got cocky. “It’s been a while since I’ve had somebody fuck me good”, the answer seeming to excite him. I rolled my hips up against him, my body telling him that I was ready as he began speeding up the pace. The pace still wasn’t how I wanted it though, leaving me wondering why the fuck he wanted to be so gentle now. I sat up a bit, taking the chance at grabbing his neck to pull him close. “I’m not fragile Eren, fuck me already”. 

He gave me what I wanted, ramming his dick into me as I cried out. He hooked his arm under my back, lifting me off the bed slightly, angling himself better to hit my g-spot. I cried out again, feeling his dick hit my spot at an unforgiving pace, the sound of slapping skin and my moans and his grunts filling the air. I gripped his arms, my nails digging into his skin and scratching them as he kept fucking me faster and faster. 

“Oh my god, fuck!! Keep fucking me Eren, please, fuck!” 

He kept going though now he lifted me up completely as he leaned the back of his thighs against his calves and I was sitting on him. My legs tightened around his waist, my arms around his neck as he pounded up into me hard, making me shout out his name again. My head tilted back, no longer being able to look at him with the pleasure becoming too much. Had I had known him sooner, I would have been going to his house every night to get fucked. The guy had stamina. 

“Look at you, a desperate slut for my cock. You like it when I’m fucking you like this right?”, he grunted against my ear. 

“Yessss, fuck!” I cried out. 

His dirty talk made me realize how much of a freak he was and I felt my walls clench around his cock. I was close and I knew it. Fuck you for making me finish this fast I said to myself, wanting this to last longer. I held on for as long as I could but his loose hand somehow found its way on my clit as he was rubbing hard against it. I couldn’t hold on anymore and came HARD.

“ERENNN!” I shouted, as I felt him continue thrusting into me sloppily. I then knew he was close. 

“I’m cumming” he grunted and was gonna push me off of him to come elsewhere but I held on to him close and grabbed his hair to look at me. “I want you to fucking cum in me!”. I didn’t care. I was on the pill.

Not having any other choice, he thrusted up into me hard, releasing his warm cum inside me. I felt his cock twitch as the liquid continued pouring into me and then out of me and on to his cock. 

~

Our heavy breaths filled the room, neither of us moving off of each other as we held on to one another in an embrace. Loose strands of hair were sticking to his forehead full of sweat, mine being the same way. I pushed them out of his face to get a better look at him, his gaze meeting mine.

“Wow…. that was the best dick I’ve had in a very long time… shit”. I wasn’t lying when I said that. Remember the shitty hookups Sasha tried to set me up with?

“This is the best dick you’re ever going to get”, he said to me. I could tell he was very confident in his abilities. I liked that. 

“I guess we should clean up now. You know where the bathroom is”, he said to me. 

I gave him a smirk. “I could but… I have something I want to do first”.

He cocked an eyebrow, wondering what I was referring to before I pushed his hair to the side and sucked on his neck hard. He hissed at the sudden feeling but I told myself earlier that I wanted to do this. Not only did I want to do this but I wanted everyone to see his neck marked up, to know that I was there and that he fucked me. I continued sucking until I felt satisfied with the purple mark and gave a soothing lick to coat it. I continued to pepper kisses against his collarbone before softly grinding my teeth against them. I pulled back when I was done. 

“Now you may go”, I said to him. I felt air blow out of his nose as he chuckled lightly and shook his head. He lifted me up with him, not wanting to get cum on his bed as I slid out of him, careful to not let anything drip on to the floor. I gathered my clothes and got dressed, not too worried about looking perfect since I was going to the bathroom right across from his room. He did the same, placing his hair into a bun now. 

“You should give me your number. Maybe we can do this again”, he said to me, his body pressed up against mine and handed me his phone. I smirked at him. 

“Oh we are doing this again. There’s no maybe”, I replied as I grabbed his phone and entered my name and number into it and texted myself so he could have my number. I handed back the phone to him as he placed a sweet kiss against my lips, nothing like the roughness he had earlier. 

“See you, baby girl”, he said as he left the room. I couldn’t wait to get fucked by him again. 

~

Extra:

I walked into the living room, hearing a commotion which ended up being a bunch of high fives being handed to Eren, noticing the mark on his neck. I shook my head and laughed, looking for Sasha who was passed out drunk on the couch. With the help of anyone who was sober, we took her drunk ass to her car and I drove her home. 

~ The Next Day ~

I could hear Sasha groaning in her room, her hangover hitting her hard. I walked in with pills and some water, placing it on her nightstand before she spoke to me.

“I feel like crappppp” she said, placing her hand on her forehead. 

I laughed. “Yeah, that’s because you decided to go crazy last night with Connie and drink your life away”. 

She scoffed. “Yeah and where were you for most of the night, hmm?”

My mind replayed the memories from last night, the feeling of Eren’s lips on my skin and him fucking me hard. I chuckled.

“Well…. I was busy with a certain someone.”

Sasha’s eyes widened at my neck as she shot up from bed before wincing at the pain. “No you did not! You two actually had sex?”

I was surprised with how shocked she was even though she was the one that wanted this to happen in the first place. “Yeah we did.”

“How was it??” she asked me. 

“Fucking amazing. The man is a freak.”

Right at that moment I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I took it out and saw Eren’s name pop up on the screen. “Looks like I gotta go.”

“Wait- !” she said to me before wincing at the pain again. I shook my head. “Take those meds and get some sleep. I’ll check up on you later.”

She groaned in frustration but listened to me as I left the room. I opened the text and read it. 

From: Eren

Down to come to my place tonight?

~

I shook my head and chuckled before typing up a response. 

To: Eren

You want me that bad already? Seems like someone misses me. 

~

A minute later I got a text, this time a picture. A dick picture. 

From: Eren

Does this answer your question?

~

My mouth watered again at the picture. I couldn’t get enough of him and I had only met him yesterday. I shot him another text, knowing what would get him riled up. 

To: Eren 

Aw, look who’s begging for me now ;) See you later xo. 

~

From: Eren

Oh fuck off 

~

Looks like I was in for another wild night. 

~

Tagging: @humanitys-hottestsoldier​ @paopufruittt​ @final-fantasy-xv-nut​ @huntersbunker​ @angelanimedesaray​ @mysteriousmagicx​ @erwinsmithh​ 

Masterlist

[cross-d-a]

fic tag game

aaahhh @vishcount thank you for tagging me!!! These are so fun and I adored reading about your fic journey~!  ೖ(⑅σ̑ᴗσ̑)ೖ ❤

OH as a note!! For the ppl I tag at the end I don’t expect you to read all of this bc it’s A Lot!!! but I figured you might want to do this game yourself? haha :)

Name: cross-d-a shortened version of my first ever username. unfortunately stuck with it now haha but i’m fond of it :p wish it was cuter tho!!

Posting the rest of this under the cut so it doesn’t eat up people’s dashes!! 

(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Fandoms: 

oKAY YIKES there are....honestly too many too name. I’ve got a short and obsessive attention span so it’s either all or nothing with me usually. When I can stay in a fandom for a long period of time it’s a miracle. I’ll name the bigger ones that I’ve all written fic for! Even if I’ve never posted them haha

Right now I’m very firmly into Daomu Biji (dmbj). It feels like it’s both got a crap ton of content and yet barely anything at all haha. Maybe because the English fandom is so small. But at least there are a bunch of dramas and books!!! I really, really, really adore dmbj so much!! And a large part of that is the fandom!!! It's been a really cool and unique experience! Everyone in it is truly so kind and wonderful, and I’ve made some really incredible friends because of it (looking at you vish!! ❤). I’ve got a bunch of wips, but I’ve only posted two fics for dmbj!

Before this I was very into Guardian and mdzs. MDZS was my first foray into cdramas and Guardian’s Zhu Yilong really suckered me into watching more haha I also have fics for both these fandoms!

My very first fandoms were Fullmetal Alchemist, D. Gray-Man and Naruto. My very old ffnet account has fics for these and I’ve got a bunch of newer wips on my tablet. Then Star Trek, Twilight, BBC Merlin, Sherlock, Death Note, Harry Potter, How to Train Your Dragon, Battlestar Galactica, Avatar the Last Airbender and Marvel were a few of my main ones in high school. Plus a bunch of anime (like Fruits Basket! and Kuroshitsuji and Natsume Yuujinchou). 

Then college hit and I renewed my childhood love of Tolkien (mainly lotr and the Hobbit), and Star Wars. I also found Teen Wolf! Then after college it was Stranger Things. 

I find myself in a cycle of mild fondness and complete obsession with these fandoms haha I go back to Star Wars at least once a year!! Then I’m in the gffa hole for a few months. Marvel also reoccurs, depending on how interested I am in new content! Star Trek I always always always go back to. TOS is my comfort show and it will never fade from my heart ❤

But for now I’m stuck in cdrama hell and I love it

Tropes: 

Time travel, found family, whump+hurt/comfort, fairytale-like elements, resurrective immortality (thanks to a “Nine Lives” Hobbit fic), CROSSOVERS

I’m a slut for all these things so they often worm their way into my plots haha

I also just- love weird premises. I think that’s the anime influencing me haha

Fic I spent most time on: 

My series he leaves sand and stardust in my wake (main fic is hurricane on the edge of oblivion), I have...spent five years on now. I have done so much research for this fic it’s insane. 

The premise is force ghost!Obi-Wan getting shunted back into his tiny 10 year old self. I incorporate a shit ton of legends and I try to stay as canon as possible. I basically want this au to feel like it’s 1000% plausible while still getting all my gay shit. It’s chock full of whump, redemption, found family, minor characters turning into major characters, and I’ve got slavery uprising on the mind, too. It’s just- everything I could ever want to explore in the Star Wars universe basically. 

It’s my first big project. I started doodling and scribbling ideas in the margins of my notebook in my Scottish History class. I adore it so so so much. But, because of my hyperfixation and fleeting intense obsession with things it makes it- really difficult to consistently update. I leave it for months at a time and I am constantly guilt-ridden about it. Because it’s my baby and I have a lot of wonderful readers. I fear I’ll never be able to finish it. Especially since I’ve written so much and I’m still only in the beginning of it. ( ; A ; )

Also, I’ve spent so much time with Xanatos, Feemor and Bruck that they just feel like mine now. I can’t read any fics that involve them, it’s too strange. Which is a damn shame because I love them so much haha OH ALSO!! I think it’s the first really big fic to include those three?? So I’m very proud about that haha (I’ve had so many ppl comment about how they actually Give A Shit about these three and are Invested bc of me haha)

Favorite fic(s) you’ve written: 

hurricane on the edge of oblivion (with nowhere to go) (Star Wars)

My long-term passion project. My love-letter to Star Wars, I suppose. Reading it now I feel like a lot of it is clunky or long-winded, but I think it really shows the foundation of my writing today :) Main characters are Obi-Wan, Xanatos Du Crion, Qui-Gon Jinn, Bruck Chun and Feemor. Eventually we’ll get to Maul, Savage, Feral, Shmi Skywalker, (more!) Ahsoka, Anakin and a shit ton of clones ❤

things we hunger for (Guardian)

My Ye Zun self-indulgent fic. It’s a time travel amnesia Weilanzun! Honestly has some of my fav writing I’ve ever done. It’s so soft and really indulges in the hurt/comfort. It gives Ye Zun the friends and family I think he deserves. Also, he gets to grow into a (mostly!) functional person and I adore him.

the beast that slumbers within your soul (mdzs)

Jiang Cheng centric fic!! I feel like all my favourite fics I’ve written are love letters haha. This is one def my love letter to Jiang Cheng. This fic possessed me for two whole days. I wrote 16k in almost one sitting. I went to sleep at 6 in the morning bc I couldn’t stop writing. And when I drifted off I kept thinking of new ideas so I’d whip out my phone and write down lines and notes. I- have never ever ever felt that way about anything. It was- insane. It felt insane. It was so amazing. I’m still riding the memory of that high.

 Basically Jiang Cheng actually finds Baoshan Sanren and it turns out she’s a fox demon and Jiang Cheng is descended from wolves. It’s- okay I said the fic above this had my favourite writing?? That was a lie. This has my favourite writing I’ve ever done. It’s unfinished bc I am in dmbj hell but I am still excited about the next chapter which features Wei Wuxian’s pov!!

the whispers of spirits (dmbj)

My current passion project. In a way it kinda feels similar to hurricane? Bc multiple povs, incorporating different aspects of canon (we’ll get there!! I promise!), shit ton of research, etc. etc. I really really really love it for so many reasons. I’m basically taking all the things I was unsatisfied with in Reboot and Sha Hai and running with it. Found family and whump galore! It’s also a love letter to the women of dmbj who really deserve so so so much better.

Honourable mention to:

One Day (you’ll have given more of yourself than is meant to be taken) (Marvel)

This fic also kinda possessed me. I just- couldn’t get rid of the idea of a trans!Thor. And I mean a mtf Thor! It’s just? So many people look at Thor and go “that’s a Real Man.” Full stop. They never think there could be anything more, and it really really really bothered me. So I wrote out my feelings. I’m not trans. I don’t have that experience at all. I’ve had issues and confusion about my gender but nothing like this. I just wanted to do justice to this idea of Thor in my head. And I still feel a bit nervous having posted it. But I've gotten so many comments from people who really connected with what I’ve written? So I’m very very thankful I wrote it and it has a very special place in my heart. It’s a very cathartic fic.

Fic I spent least time on: 

Probably we rise (Star Wars) and I think it shows haha. I wrote it in response to Dave Filoni posting a drawing of Ahsoka and Gandalf telling her “People thought I was dead, too, and look how that turned out...” So I incorporated Ahsoka (and Din and Grogu and Ezra!!!) into the ending of Rise of Skywalker, kinda explaining how I think they could all still be alive. :)

Longest fic: 

hurricane is my longest fic (159k) but I’m kinda worried whispers will eclipse that.....

Shortest fic: 

Of my posted ones it’s The Five Moments it Took Tony and Scott to Admit They Were Best Friends (and the first time they ever did), currently clocks at 1.6k. It’s unfinished tho so maybe that doesn’t count.... otherwise it’s we rise which is completed and 2k.

Most hits/kudos/comments/bookmarks: 

hurricane overall has the most of all these. Though I don’t think hits counts as much bc it’s multi-chapter. If you discount multi-chapter stuff, most hits goes to my obikin smutfic Homecoming, bc people are horny af haha

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: 

If I had energy I’d like to rewrite the beginning of hurricane bc it feels so so wordy. I’d want to expand on One Day bc I really would like to write a whole series with trans!Thor. And like- I’d really like the focus to finish any of my WIPs.

Share a bit of a WIP: I really wanna share my Guardian/dmbj crossover that I started back in August. Bc I adore the idea of wu xie&shen wei&ye zun triplets! Plus time travel!!! I dunno if I’ll ever finish it tho ( ; A ; ) It just feels like a lot to deal with right now.

This scene takes place during the Mountain Awl arc. Guardian crew and desperado fam run across each other at the village! Wu Xie has recently found out that he’s adopted and he’s searching for answers in the area Sanshu originally found amnesiac!toddler!Wu Xie in :) Gonna pull two snippets bc I’m v excited and this might be the only time anyone else sees this fic haha:

“Oh?” Pangzi focuses on Yunlan now, lips twisting. “You think I’ve ‘got the wrong guy,’ huh?” He laughs, but it’s not a nice sound. “That’s rich! Are you that cocky or are you just stupid?”

Bristling, Yunlan drops his hands and scowls. “Excuse me?”

“Sir,” Shen Wei tries. “I think—”

Pangzi’s eyes snap back to Shen Wei, sharp and blazing. “How dare you fucking steal his face!”

What?

Automatically, Zhao Yunlan turns to Shen Wei, but the professor looks just as shell-shocked as Zhao Yunlan feels which- is seriously something. Since everything about Shen Wei is so carefully controlled, kept to the minimum. Except for those delightful little smiles that bloom across his lovely face, or the startled little bursts of laughter that fall from his lips. Or even when anger and frustration spark across his features, cracking his calm veneer open enough that he can see a glimmer of what lies beneath, the fire in those eyes. Zhao Yunlan delights in those moments, makes a game of making Shen Wei’s control slip.

He tells himself it’s nothing more than a game. Nothing more than trying to find out what makes Shen Wei tick.

Zhao Yunlan’s always been very bad at lying to himself. Or very good. Depending on who you’re asking.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Yunlan splutters.

But before anyone can say anything else, a very familiar voice calls:

“Pangzi? What’s wrong?”

Yunlan can feel Shen Wei stiffen, and Yunlan himself is pulled to that voice like a planet in orbit, like the inevitable plummet to the ground.

Another shadow wavers in the doorway before it steps out onto the dirt. Light illuminates shaggy hair, limning it gold, sharply casting everything else in shadow. But as the figure nears, the contrast softens until Yunlan can see the newcomer’s face properly and- and—

“Wu Xie!” Pangzi growls. “We’ve got ourselves an impostor!”

The man wearing Shen Wei’s face steps up to them, brows furrowed and mouth pulled down into a sharp frown. He glances between them, eyes landing on Shen Wei. His scowl deepens. He opens his mouth, but then—

“Wu Xie?” Shen Wei breathes, all trembly and lost and hopeless.

Heart in his throat, Yunlan turns to Shen Wei again. Turns and flinches at that stricken look upon Shen Wei’s pale pinched face.

“A-Xie?” Shen Wei chokes. “Didi?”

and

Pangzi snorts. “Professor?”

“I-it’s true!”

Startled Yunlan swings his attention over to Jiajia who clenches her backpack to her chest, face screwed up in admirable determination. “P-professor Shen took me and Xiao Quan on a field trip to investigate an archeological site around here!”

“Oh?” Wu Xie drawls all slow and amused. “Well, what a coincidence. We’re archeologists, too.”

“With guns?” Yunlan bites out.

Wu Xie raises a brow, grin full of teeth. “Well, you can never be too prepared.”

“Right,” Yunlan drawls right back. “Are you a professor, too, then? You come here with your students?”

Wu Xie outright grins. “You could say that, I suppose.”

Out of the corner of his eye, one of the men rolls his eyes. He’s the one with sharp features, glasses and looped earbuds. Does he think it’s appropriate to listen to music at a time like this? Yunlan admires the man’s gall.

aahhhh vish thanks so much again for tagging me!! This was so fun to relive my fic memories!! I’m gonna tag @alwaysaslutforshakespeare @jockvillagersonly @tehfanglyfish @lichelleme @undyingsunshine @humanlighthouse  @thewindsofsong I’m curious about your guys’ writing and fandom journey!! As always, no pressure to actually complete this!! I just thought it was fun ❤

Wow if you read all of this I am very humbled and impressed, thank you!!

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

[activechataclysme]

marinette's adrien-must-never-find-out list v/s adrien's to-do list.

Written for the @mlwritersguild for the Feb event, for it’s wonderful member @queer-cosette​

I know it took me forever and I’m sorry, I just wanted to do the prompt justice, and involve all the ships you wanted at least a little bit in the plot, so my brain took an eternity to cook up this plot. And despite the time I took, I’m sorry it’s not finished yet, but I’m working on it!!

Hope you like it at least a little bit! 😅

Summary: Adrien is Chat Noir, and he must never find out she had a crippling crush on him when they'd first met; she knows she'll never hear the end of it, stupid, sexy smirk and all that. She's determined.Marinette is Ladybug, and he must find out who the other boy is so he can out-woo him and win his lady's heart. He's determined.Both their lists expand - she has done some pretty embarassing things for the boy and Adrien thinks his classmates are acting extremely suspicious - as the days go by.Their classmates are just along for the ride.

Post-reveal shenanigans, fun and fluffy.

Complete Chapter 1 posted below the cut. Also up on AO3.

Chat Noir is Adrien Agreste.

Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool.

Her best friend was the guy she has had a major crush on for quite a long time now.

Super cool, cool, cool, cool, cool.

Her mouthy partner, who had been confident that she would fall for him, especially if his mask came off (ugh!), is the boy she had fallen so in love with that she couldn’t speak to him straight for the first year and a half since she met him…

Not cool. So not cool.

Chat Noir - Adrien Agreste - must never know she had had a crippling crush on him.

He could never know she’s in love with him, period.

She would never hear the end of it.

The Operation: Secret Garden groupchat from three years ago was suddenly active again that night, a flurry of discussions entailing Marinette strictly banning discussion of... Certain topics.

Adrien relives the night over and over again. Marinette is Ladybug Marinette is Ladybug Marinette is Ladybug Marinette is Ladybug Marinette is-

Perfect.

They’d decided on a reveal mutually, that it was time. There had been one too many instances when one of them was caught up in something and could not get to the other; the last straw had been Marinette watching Chat get beaten to a pulp from a classroom with a locked door, and the decision had been made. And then, the moment their transformation had dropped, Marinette had squawked, endearingly reminiscent of the first year he’d known her. He had laughed and pulled her into a hug, and she’d relaxed with a chuckle of disbelief.

“I’m glad it’s you,” they’d said at the same time.

Adrien hasn’t stopped walking on air since. It was a dream come true, literally and figuratively. The truth of the matter was that, Adrien is a romantic at heart, who thoroughly - and frequently - enjoyed daydreaming about various scenarios of getting Ladybug to fall in love with him. Sometimes, it’d be Marinette, and he’d learned to roll with it.

Not anymore though.

He can daydream about both girls without holding back because both the girls were, in fact, one girl.

Wielder of Bad Luck, who? Adrien didn’t know her. ( Well, him. )

Among his various, innumerable scenarios - confessions on Eiffel tower, confession via frosted lettters on a cake, serenading on the Trocadero at 2 a.m, in his lap while he perched on the baton against the moon, no less - his admittedly favourite scenario is one involving Ladybug, where she falls for him once they reveal each other to themselves.

It’s possible now!

He preens.

Arguably, the only flaw is that she already knew him. And… Well, he thinks he’s smart enough now to perceive social cues and his observation of Alya’s extremely feeble attempts at being subtle ( and, to be fair, straight from Marinette’s mouth when he visited her as Chat Noir all those years ago ), lead him to believe that she already likes someone else. Talk about a wrench in his daydream.

He could still try though.

He will, he decides.

Besides, he thinks he needs to size up his competition.

And for that, he has to figure who he is up against.

Two things on his To-Do List. Easy, peasy.

“G’morning, Mari,” he practically sings as she walks into the classroom, early for once.

Her lips twitch. “A good morning to you, Adrien.”

He beams. She beams back. As she walks past him to her seat, he swivels in his position automatically, and rests his chin on her desk just as she sits down.

“You’re here early today,” he observes.

“Very astute,” she says solemnly, laughing a little at his pout as she pulls out a small notebook. “I have to brainstorm some ideas for the Valentine’s Day dance to pitch to the student council. After all class reps pitch theirs, the council will vote!”

He perks up. “I’m sure yours will win, you’re brilliant, m’lady.”

She flushes a deep shade of crimson.

Score.

He’s about to ask something else when Rose and Juleka walk in hand-in-hand. Rose looks a lot more excitable than usual, eyes wide, bouncing on her feet as she grins exceptionally widely at Adrien first and then at Marinette. She holds Marinette’s gaze.

“Hi, Marinette!”

“Hello, Rose,” says Marinette, and she sounds a little wary.

Rose bites her lower lip - boy, must that hurt - and her twinkling eyes flicker between Marinette and Adrien, multiple times.

“Babe,” mutters Juleka chidingly, nudging her girlfriend with her hip.

“Sorry,” sputters Rose, before giggling manically. “It’s just so romantic!”

Marinette groans, and he turns just in time to see her bang her forehead against her desk. Adrien watches as the barest hint of an amused smirk settles itself on Juleka’s face before she pats Marinette’s head gently. Then the pair are walking away to take their seats.

“What was that about?” he asks bewildered.

Marinette looks up, not raising her head completely as she rests her chin on the table and blows at her bangs. “Hell if I know,” she mutters.

Adrien quirks a brow. He knows she’s lying. Curiosity gets the better of him and he decides to investigate. So far on Adrien’s To-Do List:

1. Size up his competition.

2. Woo the hell out of his lady.

3. Investigate Rose’s weird behaviour.

4. And why Marinette’s lying about it.

The rest of their classmates trickle in. Through the day, most of the girls keep catching Marinette’s eye, and some sort of silent communication passes between them that either ends with Marinette blushing or flipping them off.

Curious. Very curious.

Come lunch break, the girls start to crowd her desk, but she declares - very loudly - that she has to work on the Valentine’s Day Dance presentation and flees, leaving in her wake a group of cackling classmates.

His eyes track Marinette’s exit, and he catches Kim’s eyes, only realising then that he had been smiling his Disgusting Moony Grin, as Plagg had dubbed it.

He raises his hand to put the index fingers and thumbs of his hand together to form a heart over one eye and then the other, before waggling his brows at him. Adrien blushes, a sheepish smile on his face as he rubs the back of his head and shrugs in response.

Kim lets out a hoot, and draws everyone’s questioning looks to him.

Adrien flees, face still flaming.

"You saw that right, tell me you saw that?"

Alix snorts. "Kind of hard to miss. I thought the moony eyes were bad before but-"

"So are we going to-"

"-do nothing," interrupts Juleka pointedly. "Because our very good friend Marinette told us to stay out of it!"

"Boo," pouts Alya. "What does she know?"

"I'm sure plenty, given how she was freaking out yesterday," argues Juleka. "We promised."

"You're no fun."

"I am too!" says Juleka indignantly. "Tell 'em, babe!"

"Yeah you are. On our second anniversary, she got me this pretty pink-"

"Rose!" hisses Juleka, face flaming. "No need to tell them that much!"

Rose giggles apologetically and reaches up to kiss her girlfriend in apology.

"I'm filing that away for further investigation for later," says Alya. "But for now, a mission is afoot."

"No there isn't."

"Yes there is. Marinette's going to thank us."

"Marinette's going to kill us."

[raindropsduringthesunset]

Chances Few and Far Between (TSS Fateful Fae AU)

Ao3 ~~~ Wattpad

First Part, Last Part, Next Part

Characters: Remus, Virgil, Janus, Roman, Logan (for a moment)

Relationships: Dukexiety (Platonic), Dukexiety (Romantic), Anxciet (Platonic), Anxceit (Romantic?), Analogical (Implied- Momentarily) (Platonic)

TW: panic/fear, arguing/bickering (playful context), violence, drowning, trauma (flashbacks?), attempted murder

CW: Remus (mentioned) cursing, Janus (sympathetic), insecurity, slight non-con kissing (only on cheek, platonic), anger, monsters, water/swimming, embarrassment, talk of gods (Greek pantheon)

Summary: Remus wants to be able to spend time with V. With a little convincing and a bit more time, he realizes a few things.

~~~

Humans were weird. Remus couldn’t tell if he liked or hated that. Judging by how his human was affected by other humans, he decided for the time being that yes, yes he should hate it. He was weird too- mortals didn’t seem to like that though. Good, he had thought to himself, let them hate me.

Mortals were cowardly. Remus despised that trait. Cowards were always too afraid to have fun- too afraid to just live a little. It was so fucking stupid to him. He hated cowards. Another thing humans and him had in common.

They hated cowards too. They ridiculed them, teased them, provoked them until they did what they wanted them to do. Remus hated cowards, but even he knew that was a line to simply not cross. Humans hated cowards, yet created them through trauma. Remus could see that when he looked at V. They tried so hard to make him a coward- to make him scared of everyone and everything.

But V wasn’t a coward.

Sure, V was afraid. He was scared and hesitant to do anything- keyword hesitant. But, as afraid as V was, he pushed through and did things he was scared of. Cowards didn’t do that. Remus admired him for that- though, he would admire him regardless of cowardice or fear. Remus admired that V had enough confidence to do things he was afraid of. He liked that in a being- mortal or not.

What he didn’t like was how everyone was babying V and not letting him near Remus. Sure, V was just hanging out with them, but Remus wanted a turn! He hadn’t gotten to spend any time with V past when they had met in the forest. He’d been hearing about and seeing V interact with everyone but him and it was really starting to get on his nerves.

He was aware that he was scary. He was large, he looked mean, he looked like he could kill- which in all fairness he could. It didn’t quite help that he was half chaos fae. I know, fucking wild, right? Now, with the knowledge that Remus had some chaos fae, it would probably be safe to assume that the Prince was also some sort of chaos fae, right? No actually. Fae children ‘laws’ were strange and made it so Princey- oh so conveniently- was not a chaos fae. Remus was always a little cross about that because that just wasn’t fair.

Being a chaos fae was annoying. He had retractable tentacles- though holding them in too long tended to make his back hurt. He also was more hyperactive and fidgety, L constantly quipping at him to sit still every time they had dinner. He also had a different aura than the rest of his clan.

Everyone else had an aura of something calming- or just in general something good. L had a calming and clarifying aura of a deep blue, Pat gave off a welcoming feeling every time he entered a room, the prince radiated confidence and gentle passion, and J… J’s aura was confusing. He gave off confidence and security, but it also always felt like he was up to something.

Remus gave off a chaotic aura. Being around him made people want to be reckless. He and his brother had broken far too many things for his effect to not be apparent. L would spiral into an infodump whenever Remus was around. Pat would be more reckless with his baking or foraging- Remus had once gotten him to eat a berry that he was 80% sure was poisonous; everything turned out fine but it was still worrying. J was more powerful so he wasn’t as affected as the others were, but Remus is sure he’s done something.

Remus didn’t like the idea of accidentally affecting V with his aura. He was too small, too influenceable. The human mind is so easily broken and he was not about to test its limits.

Still, he so desperately wanted to truly meet V. To just sit with him, to play games. V wasn’t his, he knew that from the beginning, but he just wanted a chance to see what it would be like to have him, if only for a second.

Linebreak

“No Re, you can't hang out with V!” Roman complained, wrestling with his brother in the dirt- thank the gods he could magic his clothes clean or he might actually have to kill Remus. Remus rolled his eyes and flipped them over, sitting on his brother’s back.

“Why not?! I can be civil!” Remus squawked as the prince grabbed his ankle and pressed down on the pressure point. He took the time to squirm out of the position to tackle him again.

“I’m not quite sure you can- hey!” Roman flicked his hand that Remus had licked before grabbing his forearm and using what momentum he had to scramble Remus onto his back. Remus cackled in his position, squirming a bit in an attempt to put Roman off balance.

“You're so possessive of V, I swear. It's like he's your lover or something.” Roman froze above him, his hold faltering just enough for Remus to flip him over and crawl away for a moment to catch his breath.

“What? Do you actually love him?” Remus asked, pushing some of his sweaty hair out of his eyes. Roman stared at him from across the dirt, breathing heavy and shaking slightly from exertion. Remus’s teasing smile faded as Ro looked away, pushing himself off the ground without a word.

“Wait, are you serious?” Remus scrambled up, stepping over to his brother quickly. Roman sighed and rubbed his hands across his face.

“I don’t know, I’m figuring that out. I- well I do love him but I don’t know if I love him like… like how I love you or like… love love him, you know?” Remus whistled and slung an arm around Roman’s shoulders.

“That’s… heavy. Sheesh, and I thought I was the emotionally burdened twin,” Remus joked, laughing when Roman rolled his eyes and pushed him off, “Oh come on, that was funny.”

“It was and I hate it.” Roman huffed, the corners of his lips twitching up. Remus counted that as a win.

“But really, can I please spend time with V today? I don’t care if someone supervises I just-” Remus took a deep breath, he hated admitting defeat just as much as his brother, “I just want to at least be able to know him.”

Roman blinked over to him for a moment, taking in his sullen state before pursing his lips. Remus glanced between Roman and the floor. A few moments passed of neither of them talking. That was long enough for Remus to sigh and open his mouth to throw in the towel.

“Fine-”

“Alright.”

“What?”

“Alright, but I’m sure everybody would prefer if you bright someone else along with you. I’m going to be busy tomorrow, so I suggest asking everyone else before supper for a chaperone and then asking V- at least then you can warn him who’s going to be tagging along.” Roman conceded, much to Remus’s surprise. Huh, who would have thought?

This was big. Nobody- and that means nobody- trusted Remus with V. He didn’t really think his guilt trip plan was going to work but… huh, nice.

Thank Tyche I guess.

“Thank you-”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Roman snipped, slightly deflating his own ego at the hurt expression on Remus’s face, “There’s no guarantee that everyone is going to be as… willing for you to be around V. I suggest asking J to go with you. V seems most comfortable around him and J also tends to be quite… possessive.” Remus smiled again, this time it was crooked but playful.

“Second most possessive to you.” He jabbed. Roman laughed a bit and looked down at the dirt.

“I can’t say you’re wrong dear brother.” Remus’s smile faded. He had a lot to compete with if he was going to spend time with V.

Timeskip

It, unsurprisingly, took several weeks to convince J- or anyone for that matter- to let him and V spend time together, even with supervision. Roman had listened to his complaining the night of the day he and Remus had the whole “You can spend the day with V if…” conversation.

“Eirene give me strength- FINE! Gods, if you could stop squawking at me while I’m trying to work that would be wonderful,” Janus groaned, his hands hovering over a plant that he had been attempting to grow for the past half hour. Remus whooped and did a little dance before leaning down to where Janus was knelt in front of the plant and placing a sloppy kiss on his cheek with a loud shmack.

“Thank youuuu! You’re the best J!” Remus shrieked, standing up and bouncing around, “I’m going to go ask V now- oh he’ll be so excited-”

“Ah-ah-ah, slow down there. Stay here until I’m done. We need some rules before you run off. Sit, I’ll only be a moment if you could not distract me for once.” Janus sent him a quick glare before looking back down and closing his eyes. Remus groaned loudly and flopped onto the floor, drawing little doodles into the dust and dirt.

After what felt like forever, Janus finally lifted his hands, frowning at the plant in front of him and petting its leaves before turning to look at Remus. J stood up swiftly and gestured for the other fae to follow, already moving by the time he was standing.

“Are you ready for the rules? I assume you understand that I will not be letting you near V without fully understanding what you can and cannot do with him,” Janus said, putting his hands behind his back. Remus nodded eagerly and walked directly next to him.

“Yes sir!”

“Do not call me sir,” He bit before sighing, “First rule is you are not to do anything to V without asking him first. If that thing you wish to do with him puts V in way of any harm, it must go through me first.”

A nod.

“Good. Second rule, if V says he doesn’t wish to do something or wishes to back out of something, you must abide by these wishes.”

A nod.

“Third rule,” Janus snapped his gaze to Remus, stopping in his track, “Do not break him. He is not a toy. He is not replaceable. He is a mortal, Duke. Mortals are fragile. We are not going to test the limits of mortality under any circumstances with V. Think of him like… like a glass.

“Glass breaks easily. V also breaks easily.”

Glass is pretty. V is also pretty.

“While glass is replaceable, V is not. Priceless, inimitable, one of a kind. If you break him, we will never have someone like him again. If you break V, it will be the last thing you do. Do you understand me?” Janus threatened. Remus nodded, stepping slightly away from him with his eyebrows raised. Janus nodded and continued walking.

“Good. Now run along and go ask V. He should be with your brother today.” Without another word, Remus turned on his heel and ran for the gateway. Janus sighed and shook his head fondly.

Timeskip

They decided to spend the day at the lake. Remus had some maintenance to perform in the water anyway so he took it as a blessing. Janus and V were sitting on the dock, V reaching his bare feet into the water every few moments. Remus popped out of the water intermediately, having a quick conversation before diving back down. Eventually, Remus popped up and used his tentacles to prop himself up high enough to rest his arms on the dock.

“Hey V,” Remus said, looking up at the human with a toothy smile, “do you maybe want to swim for a little?” V raised his eyebrows and looked to Janus as if asking permission.

“Darling, you can decide this for yourself. I’m not going to be the one to control everything you do.” Janus send a small smile to V and squeezed his hand for a moment. V looked at him, his eyes asking the silent question of ‘really?’ before he turned back to Remus.

“I… Sure? Can we-” Virgil hesitated, looking into the dark water, “Can we go somewhere more shallow first?”

“Yeah, it’s tiring swimming in deep water anyway.”

Remus used a spare tentacle to push himself up onto the dock, retracting them into his back with a gross squelch. V stared up at him with wide eyes as the appendages slotted into Remus’s back, otherwise invisible incisions closing up quickly with a green-tinted clear goo dripping down his back. Remus shuttered and shook his head to get water out of his hair.

Water droplets splashed onto V’s white shirt, leaving dark semi-translucent patches on the cloth. Janus frowned slightly and wiped a bit of water off of V’s face, smirking when he flushed against the touch. Remus rolled his eyes at the sight and placed his hands on his hips.

“Do you need to change clothing or are you fine to swim in your normal clothes?”

“I’ll be fine in this. It’s already wet anyway.” V paused for a moment before pushing himself to stand, stumbling slightly as he tried to gain balance. Remus reached forward and carefully grabbed his forearms, helping to ground him.

“Careful, wouldn’t want you falling,” Remus winked, far too smooth for how awkward he felt saying that. Janus sent him a small glare as V’s face heated up. A smug smile spread across Remus’s face.

V looked out onto the shore, a puddle of nervousness settling in his stomach. The water looked deep. He couldn’t swim in deep water. What if something grabbed his leg? What if he forgot how to swim? What if a storm was coming?

His breath sped up, catching Remus by surprise. Janus on the other hand simply walked over to V’s side, taking his hand and whispering in his ear for a moment. Remus would swear up and down that J used some sort of magic on him because there was no fucking way it was that easy to calm the mortal down.

“Are you ready to go in?” Janus asked, squeezing V’s hand. V looked to Janus for a moment before looking back at the water.

“Would you swim with us?”

“I apologize my darling, but I can’t at the moment. I’ll watch carefully though. If anything happens, I’m here.” Janus sent a look to Remus who suddenly felt very out of place.

Keep your things away from him. I don’t want them to pull him under.

I’d kill them if they even came close.

That’s a lie

J, we literally can’t lie, we’re fucking fae.

Oh, you get my point. Just be cautious. Remember what I said. V is-

Glass- yes, yes, I know. I promise it’ll be fine.

Remus walked into the water, turning around and offering a hand to V.

“Are you ready?” V looked between Janus and Remus before letting go of J’s hand. Remus smiled as V carefully placed their palms together. He gave a gentle squeeze and walked them deeper into the water.

V let out a shaky exhale at the cold water as it soaked into his shirt and shorts. Janus had gotten him to at least wear something that wouldn’t weigh him down. Weigh him down.

God- wait- fuck nono not yet. It’s fine just take a breath, V thought to himself freezing in his spot. Remus sent a worried look back to him, the water only at the waists. Before he could even say a word, V snapped out of it and continued walking forward.

The water was around their shoulders when Remus decided it was far enough for them. It was cold in the lake. One would have thought that one of them might have used their magic to warm it but no. Remus almost regretted not planning to warm the water first until V drifted closer to him, carefully slotting himself nearby to get what heat he was radiating.

It was… cute. Remus didn’t find many things cute, but dear god this was definitely one of the cutest things he’d seen. He could feel Janus’s eyes on them, boring into his head but for the time being, he couldn’t care less.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, an idea sprouted. For a moment- only a moment- he debated even doing it. But he never had much self-control.

Remus reached a hand under the water and reared it back before rushing it forward and splashing water all over V. He flinched and closed his eyes, bringing his hands up to shield himself from the wave going over him. Once the water stopped, V looked over to him, a dazed expression on his face. A beat passed, then two. Then a smile broke out across V’s face. Remus’s heart sped up. Oh.

V splashed the water back at him, laughing slightly when Remus flashed his teeth and copied his movements. Janus watched their antics with a fond stare, rolling his eyes when Remus sent V an offended look when he dumped water onto his hair.

At some point, the two had drifted farther into the water, them having to kick slightly to stay up. Every few seconds V could feel rocks graze over his toes, smooth and detailed. He bobbed slowly up and down, using his arms to steady himself between splashes- speaking of.

Remus dove under the water for a moment before springing out and splashing water all around them- absolutely drenching V and somehow managing to send a few droplets to Janus. V laughed and brought a hand up to push the water and some of his hair out of his face. Bad move.

Remus should have been paying attention.

V let out a gasp as something thin wrapped around his ankle, tugging to pull him under. The faes eyes widened, Remus reaching forward to grab V- but he was just out of reach.

Water surrounded V as he attempted to kick the thing away. A few bubbles escaped his mouth. He couldn’t breathe. Fuck fuck fuck he was there all over again. Kids had flipped him into the well- there was so much water. It was so cold. They laughed at him. He couldn’t breathe, he was drowning.

Look at the freak! Drowning as he should!

Maybe he won’t drown- then we would know he’s a witch!

Yeah! What are you going to do freak? Are you going to die? Are you going to drown?

Oh, stop that- as if your ‘mommy’ would even come for you. Just fucking die already- useless monster.

A hand wrapped itself against V’s forearm, tugging him roughly to the surface. He took in a sharp breath, the oxygen burning his lungs as he was pulled against someone’s chest. His breathing couldn’t slow down- was he breathing? Shit, he still couldn’t breathe. He was going to die here, in this person’s arms. He was going to die.

“Shh shh, little one it’s alright. It’s alright, breathe V,” The Duke's voice called- Duke? “It’s alright, I have you, you’re safe. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Just breathe V.” Water dripped heavily from his clothes, an extra pair of footsteps splashing through the shallow.

“You said you would keep your things away from him!” Janus yelled before reaching out and pulling V away from Remus. J’s eyebrows pinched together, his lips curling up into a snarl as he held V to his chest, rubbing his back gently.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” Remus moved forward, ready to fuss over V and comfort him however he could. Janus flinched them away, tightening his hold on V.

“No, run along. I’ll handle this.” Janus hissed out. V was gasping sobs against his chest, shaking like a leaf from either the cold or the adrenaline-maybe both. Remus looked at V helplessly.

“Please, just let me-”

“You’ve done enough. Go.” Pain shot its way through Remus’s chest. Janus brought his coat around V, covering him completely.

“Please,” Remus begged, his hands still outstretched. J looked up and sent him a murderous glare.

“Leave.”

Remus let out a shaky exhale, clenching his fits before shoving them to his sides. A stew of emotion boiled in his stomach. He decided it would probably just be best to leave before it boiled over and he somehow managed to make things worse. He always managed to make things worse.

There was one less sea monster in the lake by the end of the day.

Timeskip

About a week passed after the incident. Everybody was- understandably- very pissed off with Remus. The only person who seemed to tolerate his presence at the moment was his brother- somehow. L was also fine with him being around but Remus could tell he was on thin ice around him.

He felt guilty- of course he did. Remus knew there were dangerous things in the waters and he wasn’t paying attention. He should have at least been aware of how far in V was pushed. The only thing he was glad about was that he got to V before he was pulled too deep in or ran out of air.

As much as he was angry with the animals in the lake, he knew there were plenty that were passive creatures and many more that knew well enough to not dare touch what wasn’t theirs. Remus decided to keep lake maintenance to be done strictly at nighttime. If anything picked a fight with him, there’d be extra room in the lake for more passive creatures.

The moon lit up enough of the terrain and most of the plants were bioluminescent- as were Remus’s tentacles. Hues of light greens and seafoam lit the pebbles and shells under the water. Every so often Remus would find a piece of sea glass and pick it up, putting it in his pocket as a reminder to leave it at V’s door.

He had been doing that every day since V and him had last spoken. He felt bad but gods he was bad at words. He took it as a win when he would leave his ‘room’ every morning and see that the glass he had left was picked up. Sometimes he would get lucky and find a piece that was- according to L- ultraviolet. V really liked those pieces from what he’d heard from Prince.

At the moment, Remus was cleaning up the bottom of the lake and getting rid of the remains that some of the carnivorous creatures would leave behind. When he broke the water’s surface to place the bones of yet another dead lake salamander, he was surprised to see a body sitting on the other side of the dock. He was even more surprised when he noticed the soft and oh so quiet crying and shaking of the figure’s shoulders. He watched them cry for a few moments more before it clicked.

“... V?” Remus called, waiting somewhat impatiently for him to turn around. When he never did, Remus dove under the dock and swam to resurface in front of him.

“Hey, hey V, are you alright?” V sniffled and looked up from where his head but buried in his legs, tears rushing down the sides of his face. He blinked at Remus for a moment, opening and closing his mouth before letting out a near-silent sob and putting his head back down. Remus cooed and pushed himself up and out of the water, the strain on the muscles in his tentacles causing them to shine just a little brighter.

“Little one, I need you to take a deep breath alright? Just in,” Remus exaggerated his breath, frowning when V just heaved and shook his shoulders harder, “Little one, hey, look at me- good. Can I touch you?”

V nodded and unwrapped his arms from his legs, making small grabby hands for a moment before pulling back. Remus caught them before he had taken them too far and moved closer, rubbing his knuckles with his callused and wrinkled hands. V let out a shuttered breath, the sobs fading slightly into cries and weak whines.

“I know, I know, take a deep breath for me- yes that’s it, perfect,” Remus breathed along with him, rubbing his thumb along V’s knuckles in time with when he should breathe, “Good job little one, just keep breathing like that. What’s wrong- what happened?”

V made eye contact with Remus, eyes still glossed over with a panicked sheen. The bags under his eyes were dark and bruised, the moon making his eyes look brighter- the color of his iris seeming to glow in the dark.

“I… I had a nightmare.” V mumbled, looking away. Remus’s lips tightened, his heart heavy as he drifted closer.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“Not… right now. I’m just- I just don’t want to be alone right now.”

“I get that- that’s fine. I’ll get out of the water for you-”

“No! I mean- no I was um… I was thinking maybe uh…” Remus raised his eyebrows and gazed at V gently.

“Would you like to try swimming with me again?” He asked, rubbing his hands against his arms slowly. V paused before nodding, Remus giving him a warm smile. Nervousness settled in Remus’s chest, he can’t mess this up again.

“Hold on just a moment, I need to go check on something then we can swim.” Remus patted his arms before backing away and diving back under.

Swimming through, Remus glanced around for any of the more grabby monsters, sending a silent and rippling threat through the water. A threat of don’t touch what’s mine, if you do I’ll rip you limb from limb- I’ll make you an example. The vegetation squirmed and the creatures buried themselves below the dirt and rocks.

Remus sent a glare to a particularly brave monster and flashed his teeth, flexing his tentacles. It seemed to suffice but he used a bit of his magic to force the creature to bury itself in the rocks like the rest of them. Just in case.

Resurfacing, Remus looked to the mortal who was now standing up and lacking pants and his overcoat. He was shivering slightly, goosebumps all across his body. Remus smiled and offered him a hand, helping him slowly sink into the water.

Once he was completely in the water, Remus slid his hands up to V’s forearm. They were swimming only a few inches away from each other, Remus doing most of the work with his extra tentacles. V squeezed his eyes shut, gripping Remus’ arms tightly as he got used to the water’s temperature.

“Are you alright? Do you need anything?” Remus whispered, trying to read his face. Virgil opened his eyes and sent Remus a pleading look- and oh did that just make his heart break.

“Just- Just help me?” He begged, trying to pull Remus closer.

“I will, I will, I promise. You have my word my horror.” Remus pulled V against his chest, his heart racing. V felt a tentacle wrap underneath him, helping him sit up. He let out a distressed keen, holding Remus’s shoulder with a vice-like grip.

“It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s me,” Remus pressed a kiss to V’s head, “I’m not letting anything touch you.” Remus pulled his head back, using his spare hand to wipe some tears- or water- from V’s cheek.

V looked up at Remus, the light from the moon reflecting off the water and onto V’s face. Remus drifted his hand up the side of his face, tangling his hand in V’s hair. He looked so… precious. Janus was right.

V was glass. He was precious, breakable, one of a kind. Remus realized why the Prince and J were so possessive of him. He understood why Roman wanted to steal him away. He understood why Janus wanted to hold him to the end of time. He understood.

“My horror?” Remus breathed, “May I kiss you my horror?” V nodded and wrapped his arms around Remus’s neck. He didn’t need any more of an invitation.

Remus leaned forward and captured V’s lips with his, pulling him impossibly closer. He could feel his pulse against his lips, he could feel his hands pull at his hair. He could feel so much.

V wasn’t fairing any better, trying to lose himself completely in the smoky taste of Remus’s lips. Gods, other people absolutely did not taste like this. He tasted just like fireside rum- smokey, warm, addicting. A shiver shot down V’s spine as Remus licked gently against his lips, asking a soft question. There was nothing insistent about the kiss, no pressure to move on.

“Well well, what’s going on here?” A new voice asked, making the two of them jump and pull their heads apart.

“L you’re such an asshole!” Remus cursed, his heart pounding, “Don’t scare us like that- holy shit I think I just died a little.” L rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“You aren’t going to die, Duke,” L looked to V, “Good evening V. Why are you awake? Aren’t you going to be busy tomorrow- both of you?” Remus sighed and loosened his grip on V, not quite letting go. He sent a glare to L, starting to push the two of them to the dock.

“V couldn’t sleep, I was working on the lake. Sue us for having fun why don’t you.”

“Oh, you seemed to be having more than fun. I’m sure J or the Prince would be thrilled to hear about this.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” L sent Remus a playful smirk.

“Wouldn’t I?” He looked back to V, “You should head to bed little one, it’s very late.”

Remus whispered a warning before raising both V and him to the dock, placing them carefully onto their feet. V shook the water from his hands, shaking his leg to the side to get what water that was still in pooled in his boxers to fall out. Remus ran a hand from his forehead to the back of his neck, squeezing out the excess water from his hair.

“I’ll go change and sleep in a moment L. Can you… go- please?” L huffed and rolled his eyes, turning his foot to start walking away.

“Alright, I’ll go. Sleep soon, good night.” L turned on his heel and left, disappearing in the brush a few meters away. Remus sighed and rubbed V’s back.

“L is right, you should go to bed.” Remus hummed, looking down slightly to make eye contact with V.

“If I sleep, will you wait by my door in the morning?”

“If the others don’t shoo me away, yes.” Remus chuckled. V nodded and bent down, picking up his clothes. He took a few steps away before pausing and turning around.

“Can you… can you walk me back to the clearing?” Remus smiled and outstretched his hand, allowing V to take it.

“Anything at your request, my love.”

Linebreak

Remus understood. He liked understanding. The others expressed their love for V constantly in gentle touches and soft words. Remus had the privilege of being able to be more intimate with him- to kiss him and hold him close- even if it was at a much lower rate than he would prefer. He understood why the others wanted to keep him. V was everything. Remus wanted to tear the world apart for V.

He didn’t want to keep V forever- honestly, he preferred sharing him. V seemed happy around the others and it made Remus happy to see him happy. There was nothing he loved more than V’s smile, nothing he adored more than his blush, nothing he wanted more than his taste.

Remus wasn’t afraid to say that he loved V- he would scream it to the gods themselves if he could. He thanked Eros for everything he blessed him with feeling and Aphrodite for how she had blessed V. V may be common folk, a mere mortal, but Remus would never hesitate to treat him like a king. He understood.

V was a precious glass and a gift from the gods. Remus would do anything and everything in his power to keep him together- to keep him alive and happy.

Taglist: @i-read-by-lamp

(^if you would like to be added just ask!)

[carewyncromwell]

Whew! Three drawings for the price of one for the POTC AU! The first two feature our new Pirate King Jules Farrier-Weasley @cursebreakerfarrier (flanked by Jacob “Black Jack” Cromwell Roberts and Orion Amari), and Cutler Beckett (flanked by Carewyn Cromwell “Carey Weasley” and Patricia Rakepick). The last one features the human form of our Davy Jones, Finn McGarry @theguythatdraws, with his One True Love Chiara Dalma, A.K.A. Calypso! These took a while, but they were fun to do, so I hope you like them.

Jules’s “tunic” is actually the same chemise she cut up while she was still on board the Artemis, as seen in a doodle on a previous post. Carewyn’s new uniform (which we’ll address in this part) is based on yet another of James Norrington’s costumes, this time the one he wears in the third Pirates film. Unlike the character whose role she roughly fills, though, Carey isn’t going to die unceremoniously in the middle of the damn story after getting this costume change. (Why no, I’m not bitter about the fact that Jack Davenport didn’t get more screentime and that Norrington didn’t get to be the Javert to Captain Jack Sparrow’s Valjean in the sequels the way he so could’ve been after the first movie, why would you think that? *snort*)

Now that we’re getting more into the Davy Jones/Calypso stuff, I can acknowledge how much I’ve changed from the original films’ depictions of the characters, as well as why. Personally I find the characters’ relationship to be a bit toxic and not as romantic as it should be. Calypso, being a goddess, could very easily not understand things like the passage of time through a man’s eyes, but the excuse she gives for why she wasn’t there to support her lover after all of the hard and lonely work he’d put in for her after ten years is just “it’s who I am.” I get that she’s a manifestation of the sea and not something you can pin down and all that jazz, but at the same time, it was cruel to follow her own selfish whims over considering her lover’s feelings. She presumably then also didn’t even try following up with Jones after he returned to the sea, as they aren’t able to sort out that misunderstanding before the events of At World’s End. (I mean, she’s a shape-shifting goddess of the sea, and she made him that way in the first place, so it’s not like she couldn’t have met him somewhere that wasn’t dry land.) I understand Jones couldn’t expect her to change her nature, and that’s fair, but it doesn’t make me like Calypso very much or feel much of anything for her relationship with Jones. And on the flip side, Jones decides to take out his pain at this misunderstanding (which he really should’ve tried clearing up AGES before the events of At World’s End) on his lover in the most spiteful, vindictive way -- teaching a bunch of pirates how to trap an immortal goddess into a mortal body that definitely has none of the power innate to her, presumably feels pain, and could even age or die. Rather than trying to quit the job Calypso gave him or even trying to figure out what happened, he decides to clip the wings of the woman he supposedly loves, all due to his own pain at being betrayed. So I don’t feel much for Jones as a character and for his relationship with Calypso either. In the end, when they quasi-make up, I didn’t think it was earned or that it was a good outcome for either of them. I do think there’s some tragedy in the situation, for they clearly feel deeply for each other, but their romance is really dysfunctional in my opinion, and I think it could’ve been handled a lot better if you wanted to make the pairing as romantic as the theme Hans Zimmer wrote for it. (As a side, take a listen to this lovely lyric cover someone wrote for the Davy Jones theme, it’s so good!) This is part of why I like being able to write Chia and Finn (the Calypso and Jones analogues in this AU) with a more sympathetic backstory, as well as some organic development for both them and their relationship while they’re apart from each other, which I kind of think was lacking in Tia Dalma/Calypso in particular.

Previous part is here, whole tag is here, and I hope you all enjoy!

x~x~x~x

Carewyn was perturbed by how fast an armada of ships from Port Royal caught up with the Flying Dutchman, once Rakepick had Jones send one of his cursed crew members with a message for Beckett. It was as though the head of the East India Trading Company had been waiting in eager anticipation of the Dutchman locating Shipwreck Cove ever since he gave her and Rakepick the mission in the first place.

Among the armada was the Clearwater, and Carewyn was shocked and a little happy to see Percy crossing over to the Dutchman from his ship and leaping off the gangplank to greet her. The youngest of the three Weasley brothers who’d joined the Navy gave her a salute for formalities’ sake, but he couldn’t keep the relieved smile off his face.

“Commodore Weasley,” he said formally.

“Captain Weasley,” said Carewyn in return.

As soon as they’d greeted each other, both of them loosened considerably. Carewyn opened her arms and brought Percy into a rather mannish hug, clapping his back the way Bill often did whenever he hugged his brothers.

“Jones’s men treated you well, I hope?” Percy murmured under his breath, his voice betraying some cold suspicion despite himself.

“Well enough,” Carewyn said softly.

When they broke apart, Percy was smiling a bit more fully. 

“It is good to see you, Carey,” he said, his faintly pompous voice nonetheless incredibly sincere, “though I’m afraid I’ll have my own ship to run now...”

Carewyn smiled proudly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. A Commodore needs a talented Captain in his fleet.”

‘I know how long you’ve dreamed of moving up the ranks. Even if the Navy isn’t what it should be...I’m glad that you’re living your dream, Percy.’

Percy’s brown eyes softened, clearly touched. Before he could say anything, however, a familiar, aloof voice interrupted him.

"A Commodore does indeed need a talented Captain...”

Both Weasleys turned to Cutler Beckett as he stepped down onto the deck of the Dutchman beside them. His small eyes were locked firmly on Carewyn.

“...as does the Admiral of the fleet.”

He materialized a folded letter and held it out to Carewyn. Her eyebrows furrowed as she opened it, before her eyes widened upon its contents and the royal wax seal at the bottom.

“I’d already had this prepared ahead of time, prior to your departure from Port Royal,” said Beckett with a cool smile. “I wrote to the King of how impressed I was with your dedication, ingenuity, and talents, and he was most pleased. When I requested you to be at the head of my fleet for this upcoming venture, he agreed immediately. Upon receiving Madam Rakepick’s letter about you initiating the search for the Tower Raven’s old fleet and using one of their own ships to guide us to our target...I knew that my faith had been more than warranted.”

His eyes narrowed slightly over his cold, satisfied smile.

“Congratulations...Admiral Carey Weasley.”

The “honor” the King had bestowed upon her, if one could call it that, made Carewyn feel ill for multiple reasons. Not only did she truly not, NOT want to fight the Pirate Lords and whatever ships they gathered together, but she knew that she had largely gotten the position thanks to the effort of Rakepick -- who had for whatever reason credited Carewyn for following the Phoenix rather than taking credit herself -- and Beckett -- who Carewyn didn’t trust as far as she could throw him, but couldn’t figure out why exactly he had so much “faith” in her. Was she truly that good of an actress to completely fool him? She wanted to think so -- and yet the way he looked at her, not unlike how Rakepick looked at her, spoke of him knowing something she didn’t. Sadly Percy, even if he had seemed legitimately troubled by the hangings in Port Royal, was not distrustful enough of Beckett to express anything but pride in Carewyn’s accomplishment, so Carewyn couldn’t talk to him or anyone else about her suspicions.

When she confronted Rakepick about what she wrote to Beckett, the older woman’s response was oddly coy.

“I already told you you don’t belong on this ship,” she said, her dark blue eyes locked firmly onto Carewyn’s with a murky emotion she couldn’t quite identify. “Now that you’re Admiral, you’ll have more power to command your own ship, overlooking the Dutchman as well as the rest of the fleet.”

Carewyn’s eyes narrowed. “So you wrote that so I’d get off the Dutchman?”

Rakepick’s eyes narrowed slightly too, becoming more solemn. “You heard Lord Beckett -- he’d already planned this for you in advance. Although my reasons are different from his, I’m more than willing to play along with his whims, if it means I get what I want.”

“And what is it you want, Rakepick?”

Rakepick’s red lips curled up into a cool smirk. “Now, Admiral...one can hardly expect a lady to answer such a personal question.”

Not long after confronting Rakepick, Beckett summoned Carewyn to his cabin on his flagship, a Man O’ War called the HMS Lion. Unlike any of their previous meetings in his office, Carewyn found the cabin completely empty except for Beckett when she arrived -- in the past, Percy or Rakepick had been there too, as well as one or two employees of the East India Trading Company. It gave her the feeling that Beckett wanted this meeting to be more private than the others, which gave her a terrible sense of foreboding.

“You wished to see me, Lord Beckett?” she asked, once she’d finished saluting him.

“Yes,” said Beckett.

He was sitting behind his desk, which once again had a map laid out with different model soldiers and ships littered all over it. There were also seven Piece of Eight coins lined up in a neat little row -- he was once again playing with the eighth, rolling it along his fingers lackadaisically.

“Word has come from Shipwreck Cove, from the so-called ‘Pirate King,’“ he said, his eyes on the coin in his hand. “She wishes to rendez-vous on a tiny island on the far side of Shipwreck Island at sunset tonight, a ways away from the Cove. No weapons -- just talking.”

Beckett’s eyes flickered up to Carewyn’s face almost critically.

“...The Pirate King...signed her name as ‘Captain Jules Weasley’ -- so she’d be an old flame of yours, would she not?”

Carewyn stiffened slightly. ‘Jules is the Pirate King?’

She covered up her surprise quickly, her blue eyes narrowing.

“Miss Farrier -- pardon, Mrs. William Weasley -- never commanded any affection from me. Although her father bid she court me, her feelings were always for my brother -- so much so that she followed him into piracy.”

Beckett’s lips spread into a cold smile. “Then it’s as I surmised. Governor Farrier expressed frustration that his daughter had not managed to ensnare your heart, as opposed to your older brother’s -- especially considering how much she seemed to enjoy your company...”

Carewyn could not figure out what Beckett was trying to suss out from this conversation and it troubled her greatly -- so she put on her best, coldest expression and lied through her teeth.

“Whatever woman I respected in the past is dead, now that she’s an enemy of the Crown,” she said harshly. “I know no ‘Captain Jules Weasley’...nor do I wish to.”

Beckett’s smile did not shift in the slightest. If anything, his small, dark eyes flickered in something almost like triumph.

“I understand your sensitivity to the matter. You truly do love with all of your heart, don’t you, Admiral Weasley?”

Carewyn’s eyebrows knit tightly over her eyes in confusion, but she did not reply. Beckett put the Piece of Eight coin down in the row on his deck and rose from his chair, moving over to the decanter of red wine on the side table so he could pour a glass.

“I saw you with Captain Weasley, before you left Port Royal -- and of course, your reunion on-board the Dutchman, earlier today. I also heard quite a few interesting rumors circulated among our prisoners from Tortuga, speaking of your honor and the respect you showed them despite their criminal status...even moving a woman into a cell with her husband without being asked, if I’m not mistaken...”

His voice was very aloof and was tinged with a bizarre fascination, like an entomologist might have for a rare butterfly he’d pinned to his wall. Carewyn felt like her heart was being squeezed, but she dare not say anything.

Beckett finished pouring out two glasses of wine and put down the decanter so he could pick up both glasses.

“It’s not something I’m familiar with, that kind of concern for others.”

He offered the glass of red wine to Carewyn, his eyes boring into her face. Carewyn kept her face as blank as she could even though she could feel the blood leaving it as she took the glass of wine from him, but did not drink it.

“...I did not mean to displease you, Lord Beckett,” she said lowly.

Beckett’s eyes flickered again with that strange satisfaction as he took a sip from his glass of wine.

“On the contrary -- it’s only appropriate, for a woman to have a gentle heart.”

Carewyn stiffened sharply.

‘No. No, no, no -- !’

It was one thing for Rakepick to find out, but Beckett to know -- did Rakepick tell him? No, she said she wasn’t really doing any of this for Beckett -- should she deny it, Carewyn wondered? But if she did, and he caught her in a lie, could that make it worse -- ? 

Her hesitation made Beckett’s eyes gleam with greater satisfaction than ever.

“Then I was right,” he murmured. “I admit, I wasn’t sure. True, your voice is higher than one normally hears and you’re smaller than most, but I know first hand that means nothing. And your military record...had it not been for me having met and employed Patricia Rakepick previously, I would never have believed a woman could be so skilled in battle and strategy, nor so aggressive. But when Captain Weasley expressed such interest in me having hired a woman, and even went out of his way to bring it up to you...my interest was peaked. All the more so when I found out how truly useful you are, as an officer.”

Carewyn felt like she was drowning in horrifying, icy cold water. Beckett knew she was a woman -- he knew she was a woman, and could tell anyone about it, if he so chose. She’d not only lose her position -- the one thing that she had left that she could use to protect Jacob, Orion, Bill, Charlie, and Jules...but she’d be cast out in disgrace, leaving her with nothing -- possibly taking Percy along with her for having kept her true gender a secret --

Her blue eyes had drifted down to the floor absently, but were not focusing on anything.

Yet...Beckett had said nothing of his suspicions to anyone. True, he hadn’t known for sure...but why would he recommend her to the King as an Admiral, if he’d suspected?

And then it hit her.

She bowed her head, casting her eyes into shadow as she put down her untouched wine glass on the side table.

“...What do you want from me, Lord Beckett?”

Beckett raised his eyebrows but did not respond.

“You very easily could’ve gotten both Percy and me cast out of the Navy in disgrace,” she said, keeping her voice low in an attempt to try to keep it steady, “yet you’ve kept me and even helped get me promoted, presumably because I’m so ‘useful.’ What use do I have, for you?”

Beckett gave her something of a patronizing smile as he stepped forward, coming up right in front of Carewyn so that his chin rested just shy of her shoulder and he could look at her face out the side of his eye.

“Isn’t it obvious? You are an excellent Naval officer -- a leader and inspiration to those who serve under you. You’re world-renown for your honor, your courage -- your passion. You prompt people to fight with you -- for you -- with a loyalty that even the King of England himself cannot boast. Were you a man, you would be someone I’d be very threatened by, indeed. But since you are a woman...I can appeal to your heart.”

Carewyn could feel his breath sliding past her ear and she couldn’t help but cringe. She stubbornly refused to look him in the eye, keeping her gaze firmly on the floor.

“I’m afraid my disinterest in the once-Miss Farrier was not a one-off thing, Lord Beckett,” she said very dryly. “Romance is not something I think about very regularly.”

Orion’s face rippled over her mind, making her heart ache. Oh, if he were there, in that room -- the thought of him seeing her letting herself get pushed around by the man who’d branded him and sent the Navy after him for piracy...it made her feel ill.

Beckett’s lips curled up in a slightly tighter, almost miffed smile as he pulled away just enough that he was facing the wall behind her rather than looking at her face.

“...Oh...no, Admiral...you misunderstand me. I know I own no part of your heart...but Captain Weasley, he most assuredly does.”

Carewyn’s head shot up so she could look at him, her expression stricken despite herself.

“Your younger brother is not nearly as useful as you, but he has shown great dedication to me, since I threw him a bone and ensured his promotion. It’s a loyalty I hope that you will likewise show me...especially considering that both you and he have been given access to information that few others have been...and that I would do just about anything to ensure doesn’t become common knowledge...”

Carewyn stared at Beckett, her shock giving way to cold hatred. 

“So that’s it,” she murmured. “You’ll hold Percy’s and my lives and livelihoods over our heads, to make sure that I don’t surpass you, somehow. How I don’t know, considering that the Navy is not part of the East India Trading Company, nor shall it ever be, but clearly you feel loyalty is something to threaten out of people, rather than earn -- ”

“The only thing one can really earn in this world, Admiral, is money, and therefore power,” Beckett cut her off sharply, “and I have no intention of losing either, now that I’ve earned both of which I’m owed!”

He turned to look Carewyn straight-on in the eye, their faces mere inches apart. Gone was any hint of attempt at gentlemanly poise -- there was a hard edge to his gaze, not unlike the way he’d looked at Jones, but because he was actually an inch or so taller than Carewyn, he seemed to relish the power he had looking down at her both literally and figuratively.

“You will use your talents to serve my interests,” he said under his breath, “and I, in return, will continue to reward you and your brother, by ensuring that your careers and lives flourish under me. It’s just good business.”

At sundown, Beckett and Jules met at the tiny island agreed upon. Jules strolled down the long, narrow beach toward the shoreline where they were to meet, Jacob on one side of her and Orion on the other. She’d originally wanted Bill with her, but McNully was able to persuade her that she’d look that bit more intimidating to Beckett if she arrived in the company of two of the most wanted pirate captains in the world, and even Bill had to agree. Jules was determined to stand between Jacob and Orion, though, considering that there was still a lot of tension between them.

Jules had been furious with Jacob, when she’d learned about the deal he’d struck with Davy Jones. Even if he’d originally planned to give Jones “a Cromwell” as in Charles or Blaise Cromwell -- two objectively bad people who had been largely responsible for Carewyn and Jacob’s abusive, unloving childhoods -- Jules was also confident in thinking that Carewyn would be horrified, knowing that Jacob was willing to enslave another person to Davy Jones, just to find her. Jacob refused to feel guilty for that, but he clearly was destroyed by the knowledge that his choice had put Carewyn in so much danger. It was apparent from the way he talked about it and the way his hands and shoulders shook with silent sobs that Jacob would’ve sacrificed himself a hundred times over, if it would guarantee Carewyn wouldn’t be harmed.

Orion, by contrast, hadn’t said a word since Jacob told them what was going on. Throughout the entire conversation, he’d had his hands clasped tightly in front of him and kept his gaze downcast, even taking time to close his eyes for long periods of time as if he were meditating. Despite his silence and his detached affect, his usually stoic expression and unsteady breathing betrayed genuine anxiety. At one point, Bill brought a hand onto Orion’s shoulder to try to comfort him, and Orion actually subconsciously smacked his hand away.

“I’m sorry,” said the Captain quickly, his voice very hushed and tense as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose. “Just...please, don’t touch me.”

Bill, Charlie, and Jules all thought they could guess how Orion was feeling. Although the others had forcefully shot down the idea that Orion was the least bit responsible since he couldn’t have known the consequences of calling Carewyn by her real name, their words had done little to soften the Pirate Lord’s brow. If Orion’s past behavior hadn’t been indicative of how deeply he felt for Carewyn, then the way he clasped anxiously at his own hands and shut himself off from everyone else at the thought of her being doomed to spend the rest of her life trapped on board the Flying Dutchman made it crystal clear.

“Orion’s always valued his own freedom more than any kind of loot,” McNully murmured to the three Weasleys under her breath, “more than anything, really. And if he cares about the Commodore so much...”

“...He probably couldn’t bear it, if she lost hers,” finished Charlie, bowing his head and closing his eyes as they welled up with pain and righteous anger.

As Jules, Jacob, and Orion approached the shore, they caught sight of three people standing in the distance. The man in the middle dressed in black Orion identified as Cutler Beckett. On his left was an older woman as tall as Orion with hair as ginger red as Bill and Charlie’s that Jacob immediately recognized as Rakepick...and on his right was Carewyn, dressed in a new yellow-trimmed navy blue uniform and a black tricorn hat.

The three pirates stopped five feet away from the Head of the East India Trading Company and his two female companions, a notable sting of tension prickling at the air. Jules tried hard to keep her focus on Beckett, but her eyes were drawn to Carewyn despite herself. Although her friend faced Orion -- the person directly in front of her -- with a hard, stoic expression, she looked so pale. When Jules glanced over, she noticed out the side of her eye that Orion’s unreadable gaze was also locked on Carewyn, even as he took deep breaths through his nose and his hands clenched absently at his sides.

“Well, well,” said Beckett, his eyes narrowing darkly upon Orion’s face, “if it isn’t my old friend, Orion Amari.”

Orion glanced at Beckett out the side of his eye without turning his face away from Carewyn’s. Although his face remained rather calm, there was a faint edge to his soft-spoken response.

“...I did not think you were ever much in the market for friendship, Cutler Beckett...considering it’s something you cannot buy.”

His gaze returned to Carewyn. Beckett glanced from Carewyn to Orion, his lips curling up in a very cold smile.

“Ah, yes -- you and Amari are old friends also, aren’t you, Admiral Weasley?”

“Admiral?” repeated Orion, taken aback despite himself.

“Yes,” said Carewyn, and although her response was very cold, her eyes pulsed with emotion that she attempted to obscure by glancing to the side in Jacob’s direction rather than straight at Orion. “By order of the King, as a reward for my work alongside Lord Beckett.”

Jules could see Jacob’s jaw clench out the corner of her eye. She too felt like her heart was being squeezed. Carewyn no doubt hated her promotion with everything in her, if it was something she’d earned chasing after them on Beckett’s orders. Still...Jules couldn’t express that flat-out, so she put on the strongest expression she could.

“...I suppose congratulations are in order, then.” 

Carewyn flashed Jules a look. “I don’t want congratulations from you, Mrs. Weasley. Or should I call you ‘Your Majesty,’ now that you’ve started playacting as a royal?”

Jules’s lips came together tightly when she saw how broadly Beckett smirked. The small man’s reaction seemed to piss off Jacob too.

“You will show proper respect to the Pirate King,” he said with a fierce look at the Head of the East India Trading Company.

“Respect,” scorned Rakepick. “Is that a word you can even define, Black Jack?”

“As well as I could wring your neck, if I were allowed,” spat Jacob.

“I’m surprised your ‘Pirate King’ would want a man in her company who’s so comfortable threatening a lady’s life,” said Carewyn sharply.

‘Don’t start a fight with her,’ she thought desperately, praying that Jacob would be able to sense her intent even with the act she had to play. 

Unfortunately Jacob, as smart as he was, was never the best at reading people’s emotions -- and so when his narrowed eyes shot to Carewyn, she could see a flicker of pain. She surmised that even if he clearly didn’t think she believed what she was saying, it hurt him beyond reason, to see her having to defend the woman who’d tried to kill him.

Orion, however, very quickly adapted to the new method of “conversation,” fixing Carewyn with a calm, but piercing gaze.

“And I’m surprised that a honorable officer such as yourself would be so comfortable in the company of those with no honor whatsoever,” he said.

‘You’re in danger,’ Carewyn surmised he was trying to say. Her eyes narrowed upon Orion’s face.

“I beg your pardon?” she retorted. “I fail to see how a pirate has any leg to stand on, speaking of honor.” ‘What are you trying to tell me?’

“Even I have more honor than a captain who would burn an entire settlement to the ground,” murmured Orion. ‘Davy Jones.’

“Jones follows orders, as do we all...something else a pirate wouldn’t understand.” ‘What about Jones?’

"Orders...from Cutler Beckett, or from you? From what I’ve heard, you were on the Flying Dutchman yourself -- hardly a place one would expect to find Port Royal’s greatest hero.” ‘You must get away from Davy Jones. Get off of the Flying Dutchman.’

Carewyn’s blue eyes narrowed a bit more. First Rakepick wanted her off the Dutchman, and now Orion? Yes, Davy Jones was dangerous, but at present she found him much less of a threat than Beckett...

“A true hero knows that his reputation comes second to the good of the others,” she said very softly. “As does a loyal officer.” ‘I can’t leave.’

Something in Orion’s dark eyes flinched.

“Your older brother will be very disappointed, to know you’ve sold your loyalty so cheaply,” he said just as softly.

Carewyn felt her heart clench. She knew he didn’t mean Bill -- and yet the thought of both her surrogate brothers and Jacob was a silent knife to her back. She didn’t dare look at Jacob for fear her strong facade would crack, so she kept her focus solidly on Orion.

“I would think given your own history with Lord Beckett, you’d know full well how valuable of an ally he is, ” she shot back quickly, feigning temper as best she could, “and how dangerous of an enemy, as well. Both I and the brother who chose to follow the law rather than spit in its face are certainly glad for his aid, in ending your reign of terror.”

‘I can’t leave, not with what Beckett has over me and Percy. And if I do leave, then you’ll be in more danger than ever...’

Her eyes bore into Orion’s fiercely as she begged beyond reason he’d understand.

“...You may tell William...that I am no Bedlam maid in need of saving.”

‘You can’t help me. I love you.’

Deep in the depths of his sparkling black eyes, Carewyn could see a flicker of desperation, almost like anxiety. Afraid that Beckett might notice the crack in Orion’s expression, or in her own at the sight of it, she quickly whirled on Jules.

“He is the one who should stand down,” she said, her voice hardening further in an attempt to obscure her emotions. “All of you should, unless you wish to face down an entire armada.”

‘There are 34 Man O’ Wars waiting out there for you,’ she hoped Jules would be able to discern. Even if she didn’t know an armada had that many ships, Jacob and Orion would.

Jules, to her credit, matched Carewyn’s act with her own cold gaze. “Don’t underestimate us, Admiral Weasley. Both the British Navy and the East India Trading Company have done that consistently from the beginning.”

“And now we have come to the end,” said Beckett smoothly. “Of you and the rest of your Brethren.”

The others all turned to look at him. He flashed Orion a look better suited to a cockroach before redirecting his gaze onto Jules.

“Tell your Court this,” he said in an aloof, condescending voice. “You can fight, and all of you will die...or you can stand down, in which case only most of you will die. I daresay the Governor could be persuaded to spare you from the gallows, if you threw yourself on his mercy...and if I were to be merciful enough to leave out your new position, in my correspondence with the King...”

Jules’s dark eyes flashed with hatred as she strode forward, coming to a stop two feet from Beckett so she could glare right into his face.

“There are few things I can tolerate less than cowards who resort to blackmail just to make themselves feel powerful.”

She didn’t look at Carewyn, but Carewyn could sense Jules was thinking of her, as she said this.

“We will fight. And you’d best hope that we will show more mercy than you would, in our place.”

The Pirate King turned on her heel and walked away. With some reluctance, Orion and then Jacob turned away and strode quickly after her, leaving the other three alone on the shore.

“So be it,” said Beckett with a cold smile.

Carewyn couldn’t look at Rakepick or Beckett at her side. Her gaze was solidly locked on the departing backs of her brother, friend, and love as they began to shrink into the distance.

She’d never been very good at relying on or having faith in others...but in that moment, more than anything, she knew all she could do now was put her trust in Orion -- in Jules -- in Jacob -- in Bill and Charlie and all of the other pirates on Shipwreck Cove.

‘Please...please, be careful. Please be safe.’

In that moment of helplessness, she felt her heart ache all the more, watching Orion walk away. She closed her eyes, trying to bring back the memory of him standing shoulder to shoulder with her on the Artemis -- of him lying in bed as she tended to him, when they were young -- but it was no use. The graveness of the situation was too dire even for escapism...

Carewyn clutched her own arms behind her back. They suddenly felt so much heavier...as if there really were manacles there she couldn’t hope to break.

‘...Please...please live.’

On the opposite side of the island, both Jules and Jacob noticed the silent tears that had streaked down Orion’s face...but none had the heart to address it as they boarded the jollyboat that would take them back to the Artemis and to Shipwreck Cove.

At the same time that the pirates and the leaders of the British Navy were meeting, Davy Jones had been left behind on the Flying Dutchman with Percy supervising the troops. Beckett thought that Jones was threatened into line by how many soldiers were still guarding his heart, but thanks to Carewyn, Jones knew that Rakepick had stolen and relocated it. Now that he didn’t know where his heart was at all, he knew he couldn’t afford to move until he’d found it again -- and with Carewyn likely leaving the Dutchman with her new position as Admiral, it was likely it’d take a while before she could smuggle him any more information she might acquire about that. For the moment, though, Jones had put that concern on the back burner, for the Dutchman’s arrival near Shipwreck Cove gave him the opportunity to catch up with the Phoenix.

As luck would have it, when Jones phased through the Dutchman and onto the Phoenix, the ship was largely abandoned, since the crew had all gone ashore to Shipwreck Cove. The only person remaining was a small woman with long white hair, looking out to sea over the deck. In her hand was a pretty silver locket in the shape of a moon, the lid of which was cracked open so that a sweet, tinkling music box melody played.

Chia Dalma closed the locket half-way through the song, her eyes closing sadly as she clasped the locket close to her chest. She straightened up in shock, however, when she suddenly heard the rest of the tune echoing from behind her. She whirled around, to be faced with a giant, hulking shadow with writhing tentacles sprouting out from his jaw, holding an identical locket in his claw. Anyone would’ve been terrified at the sight -- but Chia looked upon the figure with tears in her eyes.

“Finn,” she breathed. Her lips were curled up in a weak smile, just as they had been before, but the joy was stained with so many other emotions -- grief, shame, and regret.

Davy Jones regarded Chia critically as he took several plodding steps toward her. “You know I haven’t been called that name in years.”

Chia bowed her head. “Nor have I been called my true name in years.”

Jones tilted his head, trying to read her expression better now she was looking away from him.

“I had not expected to find you like this,” he said very lowly. “You’ve never taken on such a small shape before.”

Chia’s eyes flashed with righteous anger as she raised her head. “That’s because this form is one I did not choose to take. It was thrust upon me by the Brethren Court.”

Jones straightened up slightly. His eyes narrowed to slits.

“...Then they did not kill or trap you. They transformed you.”

His voice was as low and growling as thunder. Chia clutched at the sides of her arms with her hands, her gaze smouldering with resentment as she glared down at the deck.

“Oh, but they did trap me,” she said bitterly, “trapped me in this single form, which can’t do even half of what I should be able to. I’ve been able to use what power I have to slow down the aging process, but this body still feels pain. This body still feels strain, and weakness, and hunger, and exhaustion, and longing...”

Something rippled over her eyes -- something more ashamed and pained.

“...I never knew...how much time truly weighs on a human,” she murmured.

Jones’s expression grew much more grim. “An immortal such as yourself should never have had to learn that.”

“Should never have had to, yes...but...”

She looked up at Jones, her gray eyes pulsing with strength despite the pain rippling within.

“...why did you not tell me, how long ten years felt for you? I have felt those ten years several times over, trapped in this tiny, fragile, helpless body every single moment -- and it’s...it’s been torture. To know you took the job I gave you -- only coming ashore once every ten years, so you could help me with the burden of tending to the dead at sea -- when ten years feels like that, to you -- ”

Chia’s eyes flooded with tears.

“I gave you the position of ferryman because I wanted to spare you from death,” she whispered. “Because if I didn’t give you that role and give you some of my power, you would’ve died. I’d never thought that those ten years would feel so long -- drain you so much...”

Jones was quiet for a long moment. Then he brought up his claw to brush her bangs from her eye.

“It’s only natural that you saw things the way an immortal would. Time is no object to you -- ten years no doubt felt like a small price to pay, in the face of your life span. And...”

His eyes became a bit smaller.

“...it’s not exactly like I wanted to die and be separated from you either. Even though part of me always doubted you’d be there waiting for me, when I returned...even though I resented you for years because you weren’t there...”

A ghost of a smile flickered over his features.

“...I know I shouldn’t have expected you to see things as I have -- to change yourself to suit me. If you did...you wouldn’t be the goddess I fell in love with, would you?”

Chia smiled up at Jones, her eyes shining with tenderness.

“I tried to make it back to you,” she murmured. “When the Court transformed me, I tried so hard to get there, to reach you...”

She extended her hands, tentatively trailing them along his tentacled face. Jones seemed to tremble at her touch.

“I know of the danger you’re in, Finn,” said Chia seriously. “As long as Cutler Beckett has your heart, I know you’re beholden to him. But I have allies among this newest Brethren Court. If they convince the others to break my chains, as I’ve foreseen they will...then as soon as I am free, I will come for you. I will make sure you and I are never separated again...and I will make sure your captors suffer the consequences, for hurting the man I love.”

As her small white hands held his face, Jones’s face and frame suddenly began to morph. In an instant, the slimy texture, the tentacles clinging to his face, and his claw all vanished -- and there stood the tall, handsome pirate she’d fallen in love with so long ago.

Finn McGarry’s face broke out into a broken, soft smile. He stretched out his hand, caressing his love’s human cheek with more gentleness than his claw ever could have.

“Calypso...” he murmured.

Chia’s face broke out into a full smile as well. She knew she couldn’t permanently remove the fishy transformation, as it was something that had mutated Jones over the many years they’d been apart, due to his heartbreak and grief...but seeing him looking so much like his old self after so long...it made her currently human heart swell with love.

“Just as you gave me your heart, when you became captain of the Flying Dutchman,” she murmured, “so too will you always have mine.”

[ilguna]

Metanoia - Chapter One (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 4.9k

Warnings; swearing

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

This might be it. This might just be the first time you’re feeling emotion that doesn’t belong to yourself. And all you can say about it is: it’s completely awful. It’s nothing close to what your mother had told you about. Right now, it feels like you’re a prisoner in your own body, and you’re not being allowed to feel for yourself.

Whoever your soulmate is, they’re obviously empathetic to the point that it’s crippling. Imagine being this grief-ridden on reaping day. You can’t fathom the idea that any regular person would feel this bad for people. So there’s really a couple of things that might be going on. 

One, your soulmate is a friend of a victor, and they’re worried that their favorite person is going to get pulled to go back inside. Two, they’re family of a victor and it’s the same thing. Three, it’s an empathetic person--which you can’t stand. Or four, it’s a victor themself.

No matter the way it goes, their emotion is cancelling out yours. You don’t want to be full of sorrow, you know for a fact that somewhere deep in your body, you’re absolutely bubbling with excitement. You’ve been looking forward to today ever since the games were announced in the winter.

Today is the day.

And yet, you can’t pull yourself out of bed. You’ve been staring at the white ceiling for at least an hour now, setting yourself back. It’s like all the enthusiasm has been drained from your body, and you’re actually regretting your decision.

A slight shiver runs through your body at that thought. You draw the line there, you’re not going to regret anything. 

Pushing yourself up, you slide out of the silk bed sheets before you can change your mind and go back to laziness. You don’t bother fixing the blankets, not really caring for the fact that they’re in disarray. You never make the bed, and you won’t start on it today either. It’s a tactic of stalling, and there’s no reason for you to.

Before the shower, you decide on picking out the dress. Something gold and glittery, which is just about the entire wardrobe. You didn’t actually buy any of these dresses, they were all given as a gift from your stylists or Capitol citizens when you spent your summer after the games, inside of the Capitol.

You pick out a floor-length dress that’s a mix between black and gold. Two set colors that you can match easily. You kick out the heels that are also black and somewhat glittery. They don’t have the actual heel part to them, but they are engineered to look like it, and they’re pretty easy to walk in. They’re always your go-to when it comes to special things like this. 

The dress is only a little bit poofy, and it’s on the lower half. Either way, it goes down to the floor, and there should be no chance of anyone seeing your feet to know that you’re reusing another pair of shoes. There’s a v-neck plunge, but it doesn’t show much skin, you still look pretty modest. In the back, it’s open.

It’s definitely a dress you could find yourself wearing during the interviews with Caesar. Or a dress you would have worn after your first tribute had won the hunger games. You’ve only mentored twice, and both of them came out alive. After that, the job was handed onto them since they were the more recent victors.

All your jewelry resides on the white vanity, but you don’t bother picking those out. You toss the dress over the back of the chair, and move the shoes nearby so it won’t be a hunt. After that, you go ahead and get into the bathroom to take your shower.

You scrub your entire body clean, even though you know that you’ll be washed again inside of the Capitol about a dozen times. You do the basics to your hair, and when you get out, you’re putting product after product in so it’s ready when you do finally come around to it.

You pull on your undergarments, skipping your dress as you head downstairs for breakfast. There’s no shame in going downstairs half-naked. There’s no one else here to call you out on it.

You hit the bottom of the stairs, and while you’re navigating through the living room to get to the kitchen, you pause in the open doorway, a little surprised to see who’s sitting on the white loveseat.

Tanith is flipping through one of those books that are on the bookshelf for pure decoration. From here, you recognize the pink cover like you received the book yesterday, when it’s been years. A gift from your then-district representative, the cover reads in nice script writing, ‘how to get used to your new wealth’. Written by some asshole inside of the Capitol.

“Riveting.” Tanith looks up from the book, eyes landing on you. But she freezes, “God--I’m sorry--”

She covers her eyes, and you can’t help to laugh, “Really?”

You walk past her, heading into the kitchen. You dig through the fridge, pulling out some fresh fruits that you’d bought yesterday from the store. On top of that, you pull out a few eggs too, pop bread into the toaster, spray some cooking butter onto the pan so the eggs won’t stick, and work away.

“I should have knocked instead of walking inside.” She says, “That’s my fault.”

You shrug, “I have no shame, not after my time in the Capitol.”

“I expect not.” you can hear the light scraping of the stool against the tile floor, “You really want to go back inside?”

After the games had been announced, all the victors in the district had gathered together to have their own little meeting. Cipher the people who didn’t want to go back in, and make the ones who did, known. The old were automatically ruled out either way, whether they wanted to go inside or not, they’re too delusional. Old age has rotten their brains, some can’t think straight anymore.

There had been a good handful of people that wanted to go back inside. The only problem was that everyone wanted to do it based on capabilities again. To keep you guys on top of the pyramid as usual. You can’t send in someone who would die off immediately. Thus, a competition started.

As time went on, people were slowly weaned out. Based off of strength, fighting capabilities, who still knew the edible plants, the medical knowledge. If you were able to still present well, with the cute dresses, the white smiles, the charming personalities.

It brought it down to only a couple of you. Sorcha, an older woman in her forties who’s fit even after all these years. She’s arrogant--even more than you--and mean. She’s self-driven, disregards most of the people that come across her. She started off as a Capitol favorite, but now they see her as a total bitch.

Daleka, in her thirties and a very skilled fighter. She won her games by being completely ruthless. Her personality is likable, the Capitol complained when she stopped visiting and mentoring all together. Has a wife and a kid she adopted from the foster care place.

You, of course. Only twenty-five, still seen as somewhat fresh off of the arena. Nine years may seem like a long time to others, but not to you. Along that time, other districts have won too. Like Annie from four and Johanna from seven, and your most recently hated, Katniss and Peeta from twelve. 

But that doesn’t take away from the fact that you’re one of the top three for the most recent out of the arena. First would be Zavian, next would be Tanith, and then it would be you. Everything is still very fresh in your mind, since you were the one that had mentored both Zavian and Tanith. What you’re saying is, you’re a perfect candidate.

Anyway, the final girl that had wanted to go in was Enobaria. A Capitol favorite, like most of you are. Fierce, confident. She got her teeth filed to be sharp because of her signature win of ripping a tribute’s throat out. Fun to be around, nowhere near bubbly like some people think.

And for the boys, the list was quite large, and you wouldn’t be able to name all of them on one hand. The whole point of this is, there could only be one girl and one boy sent in. Therefore, the competition narrowed it down for everyone, as the challenges progressively got harder.

For boys, Brutus won. Tall, bald, muscular. He’s in his forties, but he looks to be about late thirties instead. He’s cocky, a complete pain in the ass, and he would be difficult to fight. But he’s an ally that you can’t deny wouldn’t be good to have at your side.

And for girls, you won it. You practically blew Sorcha and Daleka out of the water. Enobaria was much more difficult to shake, though. She’d obviously continued studying even after her games. You might have been a softie back in the academy, but you were a quick learner, and all of it stuck like it’d been glued with superglue. 

The volunteer is yours to have. And if you chose to back out, there would be no harm in it. That’s why Enobaria is there, she’s the backup in case you were to choose to do something like that. However, you didn’t fight tooth and nail with a bunch of bullies just to quit it. You want that win.

“Yes,” you answer Tanith’s question, “I do. Afraid I won’t win?”

She snorts, “Hardly. I’m afraid that you’ll be a murder machine.”

You look over your shoulder at her, “Have you eaten yet?” 

“No,” she says, and with that, you serve her the eggs, toast and berries. After that, you slide her the butter for her toast, “Thank you.”

As you go back to cook your own breakfast, you smile down at it, “Obviously you haven’t watched my games.”

“I was fifteen.” she objects, “I watched them. What I mean, is that I’m afraid you’ll become a murdering machine again.”

“That’s what all the victors are, not just me. Look back at anyone’s games from this district and you’ll see that.” you pop a strawberry into your mouth, “And it’s not like there’s much to lose, either.”

“This big old house?” she proposes, “Me?”

Tanith has uncomfortably clung onto you like a parental figure. She came straight from the foster care herself, an orphan. Academy took her when she turned eight, because obviously no one would miss her. She was just as deadly as you were, when she turned seventeen. You hand picked her yourself, even though there were ‘better candidates’ for it.

She’s your first winner, like how Zavian is your second. You were sure to keep him out of the same games with Tanith, knowing that it would screw the whole system. You’re fond of them equally, but unlike Zavian--who was eager to get away from you as fast as possible--Tanith has stuck around.

Take today as one of the many examples.

“I like how the house was your first priority to say.”

“You speak about this place like it’s a home base.” she reasons, “You seem to like it more than me, what can I say?”

You go ahead and plate all of your food, turning off the stove but leaving the pan. If you put it under water so soon, the metal will warp from the temperature change, and ruin it. It won’t sit right ever again.

You stand opposite of Tanith, leaning against the counter as you eat, “I wouldn’t say I like it more than you, that seems like an overstatement.” you decide to change the conversation, bored of this one, “Should I be worried about anyone else coming to visit?”

“Enobaria was.” Tanith says, picking at her egg, “She wanted to come and be the one to harass you about volunteering. I told her that I’d take the blow.”

“Smart girl.” you say, stabbing your fork into your egg, walking as the yolk runs out, and straight to your toast. The berries are long gone, “Well, I guess she’ll find out when I volunteer.”

“What’s the point of it, anyway?” she asks, “I mean, you have everything you could have wanted, right?”

“You and I don’t think the same.” you say, “You remind me of myself, back when I was on my victory tour.”

She gives you a confused look, “Is that compliment?”

“I’m more or less calling you humble.”

“Thanks…”

“And mushy, you’re an overthinker. You like the simple things, you won and now you’re done, right? You’re not bothered by the fact that you’re just another face, another name among this crowd of victors.” you take your time eating between sentences, “Me, on the other hand--who would give up the opportunity to be a living legend?”

She hums, nodding a little bit, not knowing what to say. It’s a rhetorical question, there’s a ton of people that have passed on this. But the idea is way too tempting. Possibly double the cash, and you literally get put into the books for not surviving once, but twice? The Capitol citizens love you now, wait until later.

You finish your breakfast quickly, taking your and Tanith’s plate as you move over to the sink, running water over them. Next, you go ahead and place the pan in there too.

“I’ve got to get ready, are you sticking around?”

“I should report back to Enobaria.” Tanith says, you can hear the chair again, “I could come back later with Emi, if you want.”

“Whatever.” you say, heading towards the staircase, “Don’t worry about me too much, kid. I’m unbreakable so far.”

“So far.” She echos.

There’s no goodbye as you go up. By now, your hair is pretty dry. In the bathroom attached to your bedroom, you go ahead and get ready now. You brush your hair, blow dry only a little bit, and then straighten. When you’re done with that, you curl and hairspray.

By the time you’ve moved onto makeup, Tanith is back with Emi already. Emi is older than the both of you, but she has more experience when it comes to some things. She picks out the jewelry for you, and does some of the harder parts of your makeup. The both of them work together to get you into the dress, and then help with the shoes too.

Standing in front of the floor-length mirror, you double check everything, asking yourself if this is what you want. With a few more turns, you decide that you’re going to get praise for the outfit choice. The Capitol will be impressed with how dressed up you got for it. Others might see it as some joke.

You have about thirty minutes before the reaping, which is when you go to leave the house. It isn’t until you’ve stopped at the door, when you realize that you’re missing some sort of token. You tilt your head from side to side, trying to remember what you wore in your first games.

A necklace, wasn’t it? Given to you by your then-boyfriend. He later broke up with you because of your performance inside of the games, which he wasn’t expecting at all in the slightest. Because of this, you kept the necklace as a reminder, it’s tortuous, and you wouldn’t be caught dead wearing it now.

“What are you waiting for?” Emi finally asks.

“I need a token.” you tell her, still staring at the staircase, distracted.

“Earrings, necklace, bracelet…” Emi urges slightly, “Ring?”

“No.” you tell her, “Wait--yes for the necklace.”

Your hand finds it, already dangling around your neck. Another gift, Tanith. Some souvenir she had gotten from the Capitol during her visit after she won. This will please her.

“Never mind, it’s on me.”

You leave the house, closing the door with a slam, since it’s a bit shifty when it comes to closing. After that, you wait at the bottom of the steps with the other two, watching as people come out of their houses, one by one. In no time, you’re all walking towards the stage in one big herd.

“Not everyone can visit you, but I definitely will.” Tanith says, “In the departing room, I mean.”

“Sweet.” you look over all the district people who dressed up nicely, despite the fact that they’re not going to be the ones going in. You catch the attention of a few people because of your out. You wonder if they know deep down that it’s because you’re going to volunteer.

“Zavian even agreed too. It was supposed to be a surprise but I know how you feel about them.”

It’s like showing up uninvited. Like her being inside of your house without any prior warning. You guess that’s somewhat your fault too, since you hadn’t talked to anyone yesterday. You were too amped up about today. It’s funny to you, that you were allowed to feel excited yesterday, but so unmotivated today.

Maybe your soulmate was full of anxiety this morning.

“Wanna know something cool?” you ask Tanith.

“Sure.” She looks over at you, but you’re still staring off at everyone you pass.

“I think I actually do have a soulmate.” 

Tanith gasps, covering her mouth. You look over at her, confused by the reaction, until you realize that it was genuine excitement, “Really? That’s good news! Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

You shrug, “Didn’t see it as important. Haven’t heard anything from them in a long time, so I thought they were as good as dead.”

“It’s good news.” Tanith looks happy for you, “I wish I’d come across mine already.”

She looks down at her wrist, running her finger over the words.

“You’ve got plenty of time.” you tell her.

“Says you. You were so worried about it.” Tanith says, and before you can object, she adds: “Come on, admit it already.”

You give an exasperated sigh, “I suppose.”

She smiles a bit.

Tanith helps you up the staircase to the stage, which almost looks brand new. It isn’t though, it’s just pristine clean. Unlike the other districts, two is highly loved. Which means that the entire district is rich, except for a select few who were born in the poorer part of the district to begin with.

It just means that everything looks nice. The stage is white, it hardly had dirty footprints. You watch as some comes across with a broom to brush off the dirt after everyone has stepped onto the stage.

District Two is practically a second Capitol.

This year, no one sits in chairs. The girls stand on the right, in the back stand the tallest, and the front stand the shortest. You’re fairly tall, you’re able to see over most people’s heads. Most of the girls in the district manage to be short anyway, it was just the genes that you inherited that allowed you to be tall.

You’re given an easy escape route, the same as Enobaria as a backup. If your name is called, no one is allowed to volunteer over you. However, if you don’t volunteer fast enough, then that leaves it up to grabs. There’s a whole list of people that are dying to be able to go back inside.

Two people sit in chairs, waiting for everyone to file in and get comfortable below the stage. The first is the governor, a woman you’re not that fond of. She got on your nerves back when you had won your games. Back then, you were taking a lot of trips to the Capitol to have work done on your body. She was getting irritated about it.

The second person that sits next to the governor, is the district representative. A short man with loud opinions. He’s one of those people that you wouldn’t mind being thrown inside of the arena with. He’d likely be torn apart like the tributes are a pack of wolves. 

He thinks of you guys as used tissues. There’s been a couple of times when you’ve gotten in his face because of what he said. Nearly shredded him right then and there in front of a few peacekeepers and tributes. If people think you’re scary normally, then they haven’t seen you angry.

It’s a disappointment that he is the district rep. You wish he would jump off a cliff and die. 

Once everyone is in their respective places, the governor gives her speech that she gives every year. It’s the one about the dark days, a required speech. In the group of girls, you whisper the words in harmony. After she wraps it up, the rep moves forward.

His name is Theo, a boring name. Unbearably common and simple. You thought the Capitol people were supposed to be extravagant. This man is a disappointment in more than one way, it turns out.

“Happy hunger games!” His voice is what you’d like to also describe as ‘average’. Not deep, not high pitched. Average, “Let’s start with ladies first, shall we?”

As if it’s a question any of you are allowed to answer. You know someone in this group--mainly Sorcha--is dying to yell back ‘actually no, we shall not’ just to see his reaction. Forget the tributes being seen as monkeys, the Capitol people’s reactions are just as entertaining.

He sticks his white-gloved hand into the bowl, spinning his finger around while he puckers his face. He’s likely thinking, ‘Which one looks the most presentable?’

‘It doesn’t matter!’ you want to yell back, ‘I’m volunteering either way!’

It’s building up unnecessary tension. You scowl, eyes glued to his hand as he finally picks a damn slip of paper. He pulls it out, his suit sleeve nearly clipping the mouth of the bowl, and goes back over to the expensive microphone. He pulls off the black tape, and reads over the name.

“Tanith Nuova!” he smiles widely, looking over towards the girl section.

How funny, your own tribute getting called out. It’s a sign. If you didn’t have your mind made up before, you do now.

“I volunteer!” your voice rings out, no one is surprised.

You slide out of the section of girls, along the way, Tanith holds out her hand, and you slap it for a high-five. A small smirk appears over your face as you gracefully go to where you need to stand. One look at the choir of girls, and you can see that you’re nowhere near out of place with how you’re dressed. Plenty of people look like they’re also ready to head back to the Capitol.

Theo doesn’t look too thrilled, his face puckers again as he heads to the microphone, “(Y/n) Rosecelli for our girl.”

He moves over to the boys now, doing the exact same thing that he did the first time. You glare at him out of annoyance. You manage to catch the eyes of Brutus to see he’s shifting on his feet, clearly fed up with this too.

Theo finally gets to the point of it, “Cobalt Struyk--”

He barely gets out the last name when Brutus’ voice overpowers him, “I volunteer.”

Brutus comes over, standing in front of the boys bowl. Theo, scowling and hinting at the beginning of a temper tantrum, motions to the two of you, not even bothering to introduce Brutus.

You hold your hand out for Brutus, and he gives you a smirk as he takes it. Once you have a hold of each other, you turn towards the cameras, holding up your intertwined fingers, a giant grin on the both of your faces.

Two volunteers, it’s unsurprising to the entire nation. They’re expecting volunteers, but they definitely weren’t anticipating those who would step forward.

“Ladies and gentlemen, our tributes for the Quarter Quell!” Theo says after he managed to pull himself together. He skips the bit about shaking hands, and the two of you are then escorted off of the stage.

You begin in the direction of the departing room, noticing how the peacekeepers follow you and Brutus tightly. By the time you get to the building, Tanith and Zavian are already there, in your room.

“What’s with them being so stuffy?” you ask once the door shuts behind you.

“I heard a few districts are getting out of hand.” Zavian leans on the arm of the couch, “I guess it’s better safe than sorry.”

Another reason why you don’t like that Katniss girl, look at the mess she’s made of everything. It was fine before she came along, fucked up the process. Should’ve gotten over the fact that both of them couldn’t win. It’s not like Peeta was a use anyway. Like you’ve said before, deadweight on her fragile, little girl shoulders.

“Well, this is goodbye.” Zavian says, “Thanks for mentoring me.”

Tanith elbows him, giving him a glare, “You could at least be a little sympathetic, douchebag.”

He raises his eyebrows, “That’s a new one, what else are you gonna call me?”

For a second, they’re staring at each other. And then, Tanith grabs her arm like it’s going to detach itself. You watch in awe as she holds it out, looking down at the words.

“Oh, this is unbelievable.” Tanith now looks like her arm can detach, “I’ve been paired with a moron.”

Zavian doesn’t look that phased, taking one look at his arm, and then shrugging. Almost like nothing that went on in front of you, actually happened, he looks at you again, “Good luck in there, you’ll need it. Twenty-three people to fend off? May the odds be ever in your favor.”

Tanith isn’t very good at brushing it off, but she knows her time is limited. She comes over, holding her arms out like a child. You hug her, for her own sake and squeeze her tightly.

“Will you actually use the necklace as a token?” she asks.

“Well, I need something.” you say, “It’s better than nothing.”

“I’ll be rooting for you.” She pulls away, “Thank you for being the greatest person, ever.”

“Cheesy, she hates it.” Zavian comments, laughing a little to himself, “Look at the look on her face.”

Tanith pretends not to hear him, “I know she’s not fond of affection but--” she backs away entirely, “--you should know that a lot of the victors do like you. Truly. Sorcha and a few of the other’s won’t say it, but they love you. We all do.”

You give her a smile, “Thanks.”

“I’ll send anything that you need.” she says, “Make plenty of allies. Be ruthless.”

She’s quoting you. Those are the exact words you said to her last, before she was off to the hovercraft. It’s funny how they’ve stuck with her this long. They must echo inside of her mind like an empty chamber.

“I will, I promise.” you take in a deep breath.

The doors open, “Time’s up, time for the train.”

You look over the two people that decided to visit you, and you open your arms one last time. Tanith comes over willingly, and it takes Zavian a moment before he realizes that it’s extended to him too.

“You two are my pride and joys. Two of my biggest achievements, really. I’ll be back soon, and then you guys can praise me all you want.”

“Get off of me.” Zavian laughs, pushing away now.

“Bye.” you tell them firmly, before turning around and heading towards the peacekeepers.

One of them presses their hand to your lower back, guiding you to the car where Theo and Brutus await. Theo goes in first, since he’s royalty. Next is you, and Brutus nearly weighs the entire car down when he steps inside.

Theo begins muttering about something, you’re not entirely sure if you’re supposed to be listening or not. You want to tell him to shut up, but Brutus beats you to it. Theo glares, you can see him mouth the word ‘ungrateful’ and then stares out of the window for the rest of the time.

When the ride is over, you purposely hold onto Brutus, making him wait, “Open the door for us, Theo.”

He looks over like you just insulted his mother, “Huh?”

“I said, open the door for us. This is our spotlight, after all.” you motion, “Go ahead, before the peacekeepers do it first.”

Brutus is smiling, and he pushes Theo towards the door forcefully. Theo doesn’t like this in the slightest, popping open the door, and holding it open for you and Brutus. Brutus lets you go first, and you step out of the car carefully, holding onto your dress.

Out of the car now, Theo leads you up to the train station. Around you guys are a bunch of peacekeepers still, getting you up to the platform, and then taking on an automatic position behind you guys.

You take your time, waving with a smile at the thought of the fact that the next time you’ll be here, you’re going to be a two-timed victor.

–

ASK TO BE ON THE TAG LIST;

[guiltysecretpasttime]

Airbender’s Wife (part 2)

Hmm, posting this fanfic before the weekend is over *twiddles thumbs*. Still incomplete though; will add the continuation within the week.

The Airbender’s Wife (part 2)

Note: This is literally a continuation of The Airbender’s Wife, which is an off-shoot of Contentment – which follows the “what if” Lin Beifong and Tenzin had a happy ending/beginning (all posted under the linzin fanfic tag in my tumblr).

Pairing: Legend of Korra: Lin / Tenzin; not canon compliant

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

Tenzin’s body clock has always been programmed to be on time for morning meditations. No matter how tired he was, he will feel restless and wake up at the same time (getting up is a different thing altogether though).

That day was not an exception.

He stretched his arm to his right, intent on drawing his wife closer for a few more minutes before rising, but instead his hand landed on cool bedsheets. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he got up nimbly and wandered around the house, hoping to catch his wife before she left.

The airbender found Lin standing in the dining room, garbed in a long Earth Kingdom-styled dress, a small face mirror propped in front of her at the sideboard as she attempted to clip a rather stubborn curl of her hair.

“Up early?” He approached her, landing a kiss on her cheek.

“Ba Sing Se day, Tenzin.” She responded, not looking away from the mirror.

“Ah, here, let me.” Taking the clip from her, he easily pinned her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “How about I join you today? I don’t have any council business.” He gave her a hug from behind, squeezing her hips lightly, hinting of a promise that would likely end up with a less than productive day for them both.

“Right,” She brushed him off. “But you’re off to train the Avatar -.”

“Korra, dear.”

Lin rolled her eyes affectionately. “You don’t have council meetings today because you have to train Korra.”

“Then how about I bring Korra to Ba Sing Se?” Tenzin persisted, placing a kiss on her shoulder.

“You also have scheduled meditation with the air acolytes today. And Tenzin, do be serious,” She finally faced her husband. “The girl has barely gotten used to Republic City – you wouldn’t want her presence to cause intrigue in Ba Sing Se. Next, you’ll hear Izumi would be requesting for the Avatar to drop by the Fire Nation.”

“Fine,” The airbending master glumly conceded as Lin pushed him slightly to get around the table to prepare for her trip. “Can’t say I didn’t try though.” 

In general, the airbender disliked being apart from his wife for long periods of time – what more today when she was looking particularly radiant. As much as she did not prefer what she called as business outfits, they suit her well. He also knew that Lin dresses up accordingly as what is expected of a Beifong lady.

Tenzin observed Lin who was in a layered dress of forest and emerald green, with a low v-collar, lined with golden accents. The dress also had slits, which he (as a husband) appreciated on her but (also as a husband) especially minded that other people would likely appreciate it on her as well. His wife insisted on them though (“That is too high, Lin.” “No, it’s not – it’s functional, enough for bending”), explaining that a tight dress would only hinder her bending, and in turn be an obstacle in protecting herself.

Not like there was anything he could do to sway her when she has set her mind to something.

“What,” He pulled her closer to him as she paused as she caught him staring, raising an eyebrow in return. “I can’t help it, are you sure you don’t need a bodyguard to join you?”

“Bodyguard – you? Mr-Violence-is-not-the-answer?” She felt his lips creep from her cheek to the side of her lips. 

“You know what I mean.” Tenzin said seriously as they stood close to each other.

“I’ll be fine,” Lin responded and adjusted her bangles and bracelets. “I’m prepared as always.” The metal bangles and bracelets would function as more than fashion accessories should need arise. She swept the folders and other envelopes into the beaded bag she had on the dining table. “I’ll be back before you know it, I just need to reach the train station in time for the first train to Ba Sing Se.”

“No, you’re not riding the train to Ba Sing Se in that!” Tenzin sputtered, gesturing to her clothes.

“Why? As far as I know, the train stations are pretty safe,” Lin was offended. “I made sure that there were roving guards and security checks. People travel via train daily.”

“Well,” Tenzin conceded. “But not you!” He tugged at his beard in slight agitation, as Lin placed her hands on her hips. “Take Oogi with you.”

“Travel via sky bison -no thanks!”

“For my peace of mind, take him please.” He softly requested and he saw his wife ready to give in with a slight incline of her head. “And, wait a second.” Tenzin hurried to their bedroom as Lin finished packing her bag.

Lin felt the familiar weight of a pendant and the silky ribbon on neck when she straightened up. Her husband gave her neck a small kiss after he fastened the necklace.

“There, everyone will know that Lady Lin Beifong has yet to leave her airhead husband.”

“Tenzin.” Lin said with warning.

“Oh come on, you know what they think of me in the upper ring. I bet some of them have been hoping that you leave me or have had me offed for whatever nefarious reason.”

He was well aware of how, despite being middle-aged, desirable his wife was in all aspects. He might be the prized airbender but in the modern world (or even in the not-so-modern Earth Kingdom), she was definitely worth more with the literal Beifong legacy of wealth, power and social clout, not to mention her own bending skills were far more superior than most, and of course her position in Republic City was nothing to scoff at.  And of course, barring knowledge of any of those, he recognized that his wife posed an attractive (albeit mysterious) figure.

“I think I can handle myself,” She said ironically, as the safety of Republic City’s entire population did rest somewhat on her hands. “Okay fine,” She gave in, seeing her husband not budging, arms crossed. “I’ll take Oogi but only to make it easy for me to travel back and forth.”

“You’re the best,” He gave her a light kiss and strode off to the stables.

-----

“Good morning, Korra.” Lin watched in amusement as the Avatar slowly inched her way to the dining room, rubbing her eyes and rolling up her air acolyte clothing sleeves, mumbling a response.

“Tenzin’s not going to like your outfit, kid.” She raised an eyebrow at the teenager.

“What?”

“Your sleeves.” 

Korra unfolded her sleeves and plopped on the nearest chair as Lin poured her tea.

After taking a sip, Korra became aware of a far-away noise and that it was the Chief of Police sitting in front of her.

“Wow Lin, going somewhere?” 

“Hmm?” Lin absentminded fiddled with her betrothal necklace; she appeared to be waiting for something as she had already finished preparing for the trip. “Ah yes, Ba Sing Se for estate and business matters.”

“Not in your police uniform?”

“No, I don’t think the business people will take me seriously. They’ll probably think I’m my sister’s bodyguard.” She snorted, an action seemingly out of character with the fine clothes she wore. “I have to know how to play the role of Lady Lin.”

Now, it was Korra who snorted and coughed, realizing that this was Lady Lin. The Avatar took the opportunity to inquire, to learn more about her airbending master’s wife.

“What does being Lady Lin Beifong entail?”

“Ah well, I just don’t think I should be called Lady anything. Sounds a bit archaic, if you ask me.” 

“But why are you Lady Lin?”

“My mother is currently Lady Beifong. So I guess my sister and I just follow? And they just haven’t been sure what to call the wife of Master Tenzin I suppose.” The earthbender shrugged gracefully, exhibiting the result of years of being trained in etiquette befitting the Ladies Beifong.

“But still…” Korra’s eyebrows furrowed as she sipped her tea. “What’s in Ba Sing Se?”

“Well,” Lin continued. “It’s the mid-point across Gaoling, Republic City and Zaofu so that’s where my sister and I conduct regular meetings with the board and the executive committees of the Beifong companies and properties.”

The Avatar was about to probe further when there was a commotion outdoors and the Avatar vaguely heard Tenzin talking to an air acolyte about saddling Oogi.

“He’s a bit overprotective, sometimes.” The metalbender stood up, ready to leave.

The presence of the airbender halted their conversation. “You sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yes, dear. I’ll be safe.” 

“See you later.” Tenzin gave her a quick kiss as she passed by him.

Lin slung her bag and nodded to Korra. “Avatar.”

“Chief.” The Avatar gave a small wave.

“Well, let’s get to business.” Tenzin beckoned for his pupil to follow him outdoors.

Korra quickly finished her tea, scalding her tongue. But at least she would be awake.

-----

Unfortunately, there was not much difference from the previous day. Korra was still unable to release a puff of air from her hands and had difficulty getting through the airbending gates. Tenzin was similarly frustrated with himself.

It was at this sad state of things that Lin arrived at early evening.

Korra was lying on the ground trying to airbend when Oogi made a landing and sent dust skittering off.

“You okay there, kid?” Lin checked in on her as she slid off Oogi’s back, several packages in hand.

Korra just made an X with her arms, while having her eyes closed.

The earthbender smiled sympathetically. “It’ll get better.” She stepped over the defeated Avatar-in-training and gave her thanks to the air acolyte who had taken Oogi’s reins to lead him to the stables. “Clean up and dinner will be ready soon. I brough home food from Ba Sing Se, including Water Tribe dishes.” She entered the house, coming across her husband in the living room.

Tenzin eyed the packages that Lin brought home. “Had fun shopping, dear?” 

“Just a bit,” She shrugged as she carefully placed them on the dining table. “Here’s the contract for the renovation; the Zaofu workers will be in Republic City early tomorrow morning.” She tossed him the folder. “I’m assuming you can file this in city hall?”

“Thanks.” He absentminded took the folder. “How is Suyin?”

“Su is Su. She lives in her own world – literally. I had to make her promise to avoid visits to Republic City for the time-being given the increasing clashes between benders and non-benders.” She looked up and knew from his expressions that he was worried. “How was training Korra today?”

“I can’t get through her,” Tenzin disclosed, frustration coloring his tone. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Be kind to yourself,” She began unpacking the food she brought home. “Republic City wasn’t built in a week. You’re both adjusting. These takes time, and you’re a pretty patient man and I know that from experience.”

“I don’t feel patient today,” Tenzin allowed himself to be embraced by his wife, murmuring in a downcast tone. “How about let’s eat quickly and retire early tonight?”

“Unfortunately for you,” She pulled up the newspaper from the sideboard and pointed to an article. “Tonight’s the Pro-bending semi-final qualifiers and you know I can’t miss it.” 

Tenzin groaned in disappointment. “Liiiiin.”

“Tenzin,” She laughed. “Don’t worry, we’ll have dinner before I join the boys.”

-----

“Where are you going?” Korra asked.

“It’s Pro-bending night.” Both adults responded to her, one excited and one sullen.

“You don’t like Pro-bending?” The teenager asked her airbending teacher. “It’s been my dream to watch one of the matches live. Never thought I would be a ferry ride away from the arena!”

“It’s a mockery of the traditions of bending!” He threw up his hands.

“Oh come now, Tenzin,” Lin inclined her head to the grumbling airbender. “It’s no Agni Kai but it’s adequate entertainment.” 

“That’s just it – entertainment.”

Korra looked back and forth at the volley of responses from her hosts.

“Spirits forbid anyone have fun in your vicinity, Airhead.” Lin took it in stride. “Mother did say you were always the serious one.” She tugged lightly at his beard before standing up to take the trays of food and drink outside.

“Can I listen too?” The Water Tribe born Avatar tentatively asked.

Tenzin frowned deeply as he met Lin’s amused face, eyebrow raised in challenge. “Fine, but meditation for you starts 15 minutes earlier tomorrow.”

Letting out a whoop, Korra stood up and took the other tray of drinks and followed Lin outside, where the White Lotus sentries were gathered around the radio.

“Hello, men.” Lin made their presence known as she placed the tray on the wooden table at the station.

“Good evening, Lady Lin, Avatar.” The sentries chorused as they scattered to make space in the half-circle to provide seats and to take the trays from Lin and Korra’s hands (“Call me Korra!”).

The Avatar-in-training watched in amazement as Chief Beifong sat among the White Lotus sentries, comfortable in her Earth Kingdom dress. The lady was laughing in camaraderie and was even exhibiting that she knew them all by name. She chatted with them as they shared the finger food she brought home from Ba Sing Se while waiting for the commentator to finish with all the introductions and recaps. Korra figured it was not their first time to do this.

“How is your daughter, Hung? Did she like the mini pots and pans?”

“Oh yes, Chief, she enjoyed having a mini kitchen set to play with.”

“Lady Lin, my mother sends her regards.”

“Ah yes, Minha, I hope she’s getting used to the South Pole well.”

“Yes and she appreciates the coat you sent her through Lady Kya.”

Korra enjoyed herself immensely, freely laughing and feeling the start of an affinity with the White Lotus sentries. It was a far cry from the feeling of isolation she experienced back in the South Pole. They booed and cheered accordingly as the matches went by. They did not seem to particularly take her Avatar status with a lot of fanfare, which she liked.

She watched the metalbender at the corner of her eye – for all her misgivings, it would seem that the airbender’s wife was not all that bad as literature and media made it seem. The woman was laughing, no condescension in sitting and eating at the same space as the sentries. If it were not for the golden filigree and her attire, Korra would have thought her a part of the team. She was pleased to see that Lady Lin had no airs, which was more than could be said of her own Northern Water Tribe cousins.

“Excuse me, good evening everyone.” Tenzin’s voice cut-through the din. “Just checking if I may now take my wife home?”

The sentries stood up to give a bow, which the airbender returned and waved off.

“But we’re just getting to the good part,” Korra almost whined. She anticipated that she would be told off to go to bed too.

“No, no, it’s fine.” Lin accepted her husband’s hand as he helped her up from her stool. “I’ll go ahead, you all have stay and finish the match.” She motioned to the group. “I trust you’ll be able pack up later and finish your shifts?” At everyone's affirmative, she placed a hand on Korra’s shoulder. “Alright, see you all tomorrow – well, maybe not all: Aki and Sansan, I think you're both off duty tomorrow.”

With that, the group bid the pair good night. 

“Say what you will about those two,” Head sentry Yao, one of the more senior ones in the group, jerked his head towards the couple going back into the house, with the airbender still tightly holding his wife by the waist, tripping with faint laughter trailing behind them. “But they’re definitely a love match.”

“Never seen a more dedicated wife like the Lady Lin,” A dimpled sentry (Aki was his name, if Korra was not mistaken) commented wistfully (“And vice versa on the airbending master as a husband!” Another piped up). “I don’t get it why they get so much flak from the Order and the press.”

“Tradition,” Yao scoffed. The rest of the sentries turning to face him, relying on his experience as fact, being that he had been on Air Temple Island as a junior sentry during the previous avatar’s term. “If anything, they know the Lady would not be held down but they expected Master Tenzin to at least be a bit more pliable. A little bit more steeped into tradition, you know?”

Korra accepted a mini fruit tart that was being passed around the group, as they wait for the advertisements from the radio to finish. There was a lot, given that it was probably the third to the last ad slot. 

“It’s not like Chief Beifong was wasting her time in Republic City,” Han revealed that he used to be part of the Metalbending police department until five years ago when he decided to heed an offer from the Order of the White Lotus. “She had always been fair – very strict – but fair. Highly competent and much more capable than the entire City Council put together in protecting the city (“Shhh, don’t let Councilman Tenzin hear you!” “He meant keeping the city crime stats lower – that can’t be achieved by peacekeeping alone.” “Ah, right right. True.”).”

Into the third round of the last match (the Fire Ferrets were proving to be a well-trained underdog) , they felt the ground trembling.

Korra immediately stood up, tensing. “What on earth is that?” Earth tremors were uncommon in the South Pole, and if any, it did not seem to forecast good fortune. She distinctly noticed the unease among the sentries as they communicated non-verbally with each other. “Should we prepare for something? I can go inside and warn Tenzin!” 

“No!”  The vehement chorus of No’s surprised her.

“Well, okay – no.” She was confused now. “Is there an evacuation plan or is this normal?”

The sentries looked at each other, appearing unsure to Korra.

“Well?” The Avatar-in-training was poised to run into action at the first sign of danger, putting down her cup of water on a nearby tray.

Finally, head sentry Yao cleared his throat. “Don’t worry Avatar, this is very normal.”

Eventually, the floor ceased its apparent movement and there was a collective sigh of relief.

The rest of the sentries cast furtive glances at Korra as she sat back down, unable to fully focus on the game. The sentries, though, were easily engrossed in the match.

The match soon ended (“And the Fire Ferrets wiiiiiin!”) and everyone pitched in to clear the area. Korra hovered awkwardly, still on alert and very wary of the earth tremors.

As the last of the cups and trays were brought away, Yao took pity on the Avatar and wanted to give her peace of mind.

“You sure that was normal?” Korra twisted her hands in slight agitation. “That won’t cause the island to split and sink or something?”

“Yes, Avatar, there is no need to worry about it.” The head sentry accompanied her to the door of the Air Temple residential building.

“I don’t remember the island sitting on any fissure that would cause it,” The young woman wracked her memory for any geological feature near Republic City that could result in an earthquake. Man, she really needed to brush up on her studies. “I don’t think I’ve read about a phenomenon in the text way back.”

“Uh, it wasn’t a fissure,” Yao looked downright uncomfortable now. “And it’s a fairly new, uh, phenomenon; just a couple of years old.”

They have reached the entrance to the house; Korra paused and tilted her head in question. Just then, the ground shook a bit more for a few seconds long then every thing was still. “Tell me I didn’t just imagine that.” 

Two sentries (Ming and Jian?) passed by as part of their rounds. The head sentry nodded at them, “Will the two of you check The Area tomorrow?”

Ming and Jian saluted and Korra was left pondering why “The Area” sounded like it was said with capital letters, as though the White Lotus were talking about a very specific location.

“Better get some rest, Avatar. Good mood or not, Master Tenzin and Lady Lin wouldn’t appreciate it if we,” Yao rubbed the back of his neck as he turned back to the Avatar who was waiting for answers. “Continue to discuss the, eh, aftershocks of their evening exercises.”

Oh Agni, please swallow me into the ground now.

----

Welp. Playing with the idea on what the pair looked like to others they interact with on a day-to-day basis for more...~domesticity? Eh 😏 lemme know what you think.

===

My related posts:

Prologue (Contentment) 

Airbender’s Wife 1 | 3 | 4

[halo-jpeg]

Could you by any chance, do slashers with a shy, twink SO?

I love this yes!!! I FINALLY finished this, jeez!!! This took a looong time. All my asks all for all the slashers I write for so it’ll take a long time for me to get the content out! Sorry for the wait!

Slashers with a Shy Twink S/O

Michael Myers

He’s a sucker for height differences, so a short guy is absolutely his type. He’d hold you close at all time, sitting you in his lap and never letting you get up.

You’re shy? That’s perfect, who needs to go outside into society anyways? He’d much rather keep you at home where he can make sure you’re safe, so don’t worry about having to go talk to people other than him.

Will protect you until the end of time. He’s super paranoid that you’ll be hurt or attacked for any and all reasons, so he’ll be close by no matter what, making sure no one makes you even the slightest bit uncomfortable.

Whether it’s comforting or unnerving to know hes always close by, it’s the undeniable truth. Just shout for him and he’ll be there. Dip momentarily into a quiet place and he’ll be there. Talk aloud, he’ll hear you.

Jason Voorhees

Right away he knows you’re different from other campers. You’re short, fragile, and completely afraid to be out with the other teenagers. You aren’t as overly-confident and obnoxious like they are so that grants you bonus brownie points.

Again, you’re fragile and small, along with the purest babey in the world. The forest is dangerous; even before you know Jason is there he’ll be protecting you.

After you actually meet and get to know each other, he’ll be at your side no matter what, even if trespassers need to be dealt with. If it makes you happy he’ll do whatever you want him to.

He’s pretty shy himself, when he isn’t killing of course. He understands the whole ‘not too keen about attention’ stuff, so he does his best to keep trespassers away unless you want to be with them- until they’re killed.

Brahms Heelshire

He L O V E S Y O U. You are the cutest most adorable little thing hes ever seen and he will 100% love and cherish every single little thing about you.

You’re so tiny compared to this tower of a man and he LOVES to tease you about that, leaning his elbow on your head and purposefully placing stuff just too high for you to reach.

He’ll curl his entire body around yours like some human cocoon and you’ll be stuck there until he says otherwise.

Will always want to have tea parties and is always saying you’d look good as a doll, like his mini-Brahms self. Has scoured the internet for a custom-doll maker.

Billy & Stu

Protectprotectprotectprotectprotectprotectprotect-

Billy likes to tease you for being so small and shy when he’s generally outgoing, and finds it almost weird that you’d go for someone like him. After all, you’re basically polar opposites.

Stu makes you feel loved every second of the day, making sure no one makes you uncomfortable and always asking to hold your hand.

Both boys are so glad to have someone like you tolerate them and their stupidness. They don’t know how they got so lucky.

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas is a big man, and he loves tiny little you and your nervous personality.

He’s always afraid that you’ll get hurt if you leave the house, so you rarely do, and only when he’s with you, glued to your side like a protective tick.

He’ll pick you up and seat you on his shoulder, carrying you around like a parrot or something. Tommy loves to take walks with you like that.

Any and all teasing from his family will result in him punching them. Hard. He won’t take anything, not wen it comes to you because you’re his S/O and no one gets to tease you >:(

Bubba Sawyer

Another sucker for height differences!! He’s TALL, so he’ll always want to compare heights, seeing if you’re going to grow as tall as him some day. Even when you tell him you won’t, he still has hopes that you’ll grow as big and strong as he is.

No matter what Drayton says you are NOT doing any chores that are even remotely dangerous. If you ever try to help hunt trespassers or use a saw or hammer, Bubba will erupt into a series of panicked whining, and then he’ll drag you away into the safety of home.

Even though you’re so small he still likes to be the little spoon sometimes. It makes him feel even more loved and valued than ever. On days where he’s the big spoon, he loves that too, because then he knows you are feeling just as loved.

He’s shy too, so he knows how you feel!! He’ll take you on walks through the sunflower fields if guests ever come over, or if you want to get away from the shouting of his brothers.

Danny ‘Jed Olsen’ Johnson

Twink? Y E S. Danny is pretty twink-y himself, so you go perfect together. Everything about your personality is entrancing you him.

Will teach you how to use your height and weight perfectly; if you’re short, you’re harder to spot, and you can learn how to walk silently no matter your weight.

Danny is the polar opposite of shy, but he absolutely respects that you aren’t as confident around people as he is. He’s a natural attention whore, so he’ll absorb it all and keep peoples eyes off of you.

Some days where you’re really reluctant to go into public he’s perfectly content with chilling at home with a movie.

Billy Lenz

Will 100% call you Twink. All the time. Every day.

Makes fun of how short you are even though he’s pretty short himself, doing whatever he can do sabotage your daily life while still being convenient for his own- a lot of things are going to be placed just out of your reach.

Shy? Good, you don’t get to go outside anyways. It’s always attic time for Billy, and attic times means him, you, and the rocking chair, much too small for two people.

The ultimate little spoon. Cradle him in your arms or suffer 😡

Leslie Vernon

He’s a very outgoing, loud person; your polar opposite, so he can be a little overbearing. He draws a lot of attention (and loves it all) as well, so you’re often put out when you don’t want to be simply because he doesn’t notice that you’re uncomfortable.

He always makes it up to you with cuddles and love, feeling bad for making you uncomfortable.

Short? Okay. That’s fine, he doesn’t tease you or anything, you’re too good for that.

His favourite thing EVER is planning out his little hunting games. He usually lets you pick out the group (after he’s chosen his final girl, of course). You always think up different ideas than he does.

Vincent Sinclair

L o v e l o v e l o v e

He will cherish every single little thing about you because he’s never seen anyone as naturally perfect as you are.

Models 80% of his wax figures after you!!! There’s a lot of different mini figurines with your features, even if he tries not to let you know that.

He’s so shy, so he doesn’t ever want to go out of the basement. Now, you don’t ever want to leave either, and he loves it. Your personality is so easy to handle, it’s not overwhelming in the slightest and he loves you.

Bo Sinclair

Endless teasing. I’m so sorry you have to deal with this nasty texas man.

He’ll randomly rip things out of your hands and hold them too high for you to reach, laughing all the while.

He can be soft though, and he’s softer around you than anyone else. He’ll cuddle you and tell you how he’ll keep you safe no matter what.

He locks you in your room whenever people stumble across Ambrose. He won’t risk getting you hurt.

Lester Sinclair

You’re just the cutest to him!! Compared to his brothers he’s tiny, so he loves that you are too!

He’ll bring you with him on his work rides, cranking country tunes through his old tinny radio and singing along loudly.

It’s nice and secluded all throughout the work day, so you won’t have to worry about much social interaction.

On the day Lester runs into someone he intends to lure back to Ambrose (like offering a ride) he’ll make sure he takes all the attention, talking non-stop so you didn’t have to talk if you didn’t want to.

Norman Bates

He himself is pretty twinky if we’re being honest. You’d totally click personalities.

He’s shy too, so there would never be the problem of having to talk to other people. The two of you make do with simply being around one another.

He’ll read you books and make tea, along with constantly buying you flowers. He’s so in love with you.

The most gentlemanly gentleman on the earth. Absolutely no teasing from this guy, and he’ll beat anyone who teases you to a pulp.

Pyramid Head

S m o l b o i = p r o t e c t

Super territorial and constantly worried about you. If you ever leave his sight he’ll flip, his anxiety blasting through the roof. He’ll spend hours tearing the town apart to find you.

He’ll pat your head as his main sign of saying ‘I love you’. If he could speak he’d shower you with endless praise.

He’s so big and strong and brutal, but when it comes to handling you he’s so careful and gentle, like two different sides of a coin.

[spiritmoon23]

Throwing Shade: The Art of Using Color to Study

A bit of a throwback (last year haha) but for my cognitive psychology class we had to make a blog post about our topic of choice, and mine won best in show! (I got 100% on it and I deserved it in full)

For anyone interested, the link is here for the full effect (colors and images I picked out myself :) ), but the full text will be under the cut- without the lovely graphics that it

ABSTRACT: Do you take your notes in color? Maybe you should start. Note taking is the one thing that remains constant throughout the years in education. Students will often take notes in color or draw in their margins, which not only makes note taking more fun, but it can help keep you engaged in the material, and retain the information you’re taking notes on!

Throwing Shade: The Art of Using Color to Study

Do you take your notes in color? Maybe you should start.

Note taking is the one thing that remains constant throughout the years in education. Your parents took notes, their parents took notes, your professors took notes from their professors who took notes. But, your notes don't have to be the same notes they’ve been taking all these years. Back in the day, students were stuck with sad, boring ink and pencils in the same three colors for generations. Why don’t we try something new? Nowadays, along with the invention of sparkly gel pens for the people who still write theirs in notebooks, many students have started to take notes on computers, which makes it even easier than ever before to introduce colors and graphics into your delightful shorthand. Not only does this make it more fun to take notes, but it also helps to keep you engaged, and even helps you remember the information you’re taking notes on.

What is memory?

Obviously, memory is what you remember, right? Simply put, yes, but there’s more to it than that- there always is, isn’t there? It involves keeping, finding, and using information about things we have experienced in some way before that moment, but is something you’re not currently experiencing (1). For example, I could ask you to remember what a field of corn looks like, smells like, or sounds like, and you could tell me without having to be standing in one right now. That’s memory.

Memory is a process with a lot of steps and a lot of mechanisms that we don’t entirely understand just yet, but we do know what kinds of things make your memory better. Namely, things that either grab your attention, or emotionally invest you in them (2). That’s why you remember that embarrassing thing you did five years ago (while you’re trying to sleep, every time), and can’t remember what you had for lunch last week. 

Emotion can be engaged by many things, but so can your attention. When you’re driving down the highway and the giant red McDonald’s billboard catches your eye, or when the “Ooh, something shiny!” reflex kicks in, something is grabbing your attention and forcing you to think about it. There are a few ways to grab someone’s attention in this manner, but the best way? Nothing can grab someone like a striking color palette.

Coloring Your Attention

Color catches your (visual) attention better than any other visual stimuli, because it takes the least amount of effort to perceive (3). Then, the longer you look at that stimulus, the longer it has to imprint on your short term memory. That visual information worms its way quickly into the long term memory after the prolonged exposure. This is why marketing is often very colorful, with lots of moving shapes and textures, and loud, ranging sounds. They want your attention more than anything else, so you remember their name or product better than the competition.

But, I can definitely hear you asking me, what does this have to do with me as a student? Doesn’t that just mean the powerpoint I’m reading off of should be in kaleidoscope colors? Yes, it should. But more specifically to you as the student, color is a form of creative expression that you can use to enhance your memory.

Being Creative With Your Memory

Being creative during class, especially when taking notes, keeps you engaged and interested in the material, and this will make it stick in your memory longer than if you were just copying information down as you hear it (4). But not everyone can make masterpieces in the margins of their notebooks, now can they?

Well, adding color to your notes is a form of creative expression that anyone can participate in, no matter how creative or creatively skilled they are. You can’t even draw a stick figure? That’s okay, you don’t need to! Instead, try switching colors in between each topic, and if you want to go a step further, make color patterns with them outside of just the plain rainbow. As long as you are expressing yourself in a creative manner while you’re taking notes, your mood and motivation will be much higher (5).

So, What Colors Should I Be Using?

Use whatever colors make you happiest. I keep notes in blues, purples and greens, because my favorite colors are the cool ones. Use whatever colors, mediums, images, or annotations that speak best to you, like your favorite colors, cutesy patterns, doodles, or whatever strikes your fancy.

However, there is a correct answer to this question. There has been a few different studies that have been conducted about this, and the results vary (no matter how many colors I make it, the periodic table isn’t going to be memorable to an interior designer, after all), but most commonly the primary and secondary colors like red, green, and yellow, are the most memorable colors (3). Even more specifically, use warm colors like red and orange over cool colors like blue and purple, as these colors tend to catch your attention better and for longer (6).

Sources

1. Goldstein, E. B. (2019). Cognitive psychology: Connecting mind, research, and everyday experience. Cengage.

2. Gomes, C. F., Brainerd, C. J., & Stein, L. M. (2013). Effects of emotional valence and arousal on recollective and nonrecollective recall. Journal of Experimental Psychology: Learning, Memory, and Cognition, 39(3), 663-677. doi:10.1037/a0028578

3. Bae, G., Olkkonen, M., Allred, S. R., & Flombaum, J. I. (2015). Why some colors appear more memorable than others: A model combining categories and particulars in color working memory. Journal of Experimental Psychology: General, 144(4), 744-763. doi:10.1037/xge0000076

4. Baack, D. W., Wilson, R. T., & Till, B. D. (2008). Creativity and Memory Effects: Recall, Recognition, and an Exploration of Nontraditional Media. Journal of Advertising, 37(4), 85-94. doi:10.2753/joa0091-3367370407

5. Ceci, M. W., & Kumar, V. K. (2015). A Correlational Study of Creativity, Happiness, Motivation, and Stress from Creative Pursuits. Journal of Happiness Studies, 17(2), 609-626. doi:10.1007/s10902-015-9615-y

6. Jadhao A, Bagade A, Taware G, Bhonde M. Effect of background color perception on attention span and short-term memory in normal students. Natl J Physiol Pharm Pharmacol 2020;10(11):981-984