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13uswntimagines · 11 months ago

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I'll Take Care of You (Alessia Russo x MMA!fighter R)

Request: Could we maybe see some slightly more stern dom alessia dealing with r (doesn’t have to be smut) in front of the team because reader starts acting bratty with them?

Part of the same universe as the come down.

Warning: Slight touching but not actual smut. Also D/S fic

Author's note: Hey Y'all, i really hope you enjoy this. I want to point out that D/S dynamics are based on trust and communication, so that's what I chose to focus on. Alessia is a soft dom, and chooses a punishment that she knows will be effective. If you want to chat or have any ideas or comments, feel free to hit me up.

Gearing up for a fight was the equivalent of stretching out a rubber band to its limit. It was 8 weeks of nonstop training, 4 weeks of conditioning your body to shed water so you could make weight, 2 weeks of cameras following you around for UFC embedded, and 1 week of media bombardment where you had to listen to grown men act like 5-year-olds talking about who was going to beat who.

It was utterly exhausting.

The only upside was that at the end of it, you got to step into the octagon and do what you did best.

You got to put the plan your coaches drilled over and over into your brain into place. You got to release all of the built-up anxiety and frustration from camp.

You got to fight.

It was like coming up for oxygen after being trapped underwater. Sometimes the cage felt like the only place you could really breathe on your own.

It had been your safe haven for almost as long as you could remember, which was kinda strange considering your health was put at immediate risk every time you stepped inside. It had been your escape from your family, and your only coping mechanism for as long as you could remember.

To go through training camp, and fight week and the weight cut, only to have your fight pulled at the last minute was fucking devastating.

It was like when Alessia brought you all the way to the precipice of an orgasm and then pulled away just before you could tumble over it, except far far far worse.

It made your blood boil. It made the monster in your chest roar that your opponent couldn’t do his end of the job to make the fight go on after all of the shit he was talking. And there was nothing anyone could say or do to make it better.

Dana promised that the fight would be rescheduled. He even threw in that if you won, you would be next in line for a title shot.

But it didn’t help.

The fight was set to be at the O2 arena, meaning your girlfriend and all of her teammates had been set to see you, and now they couldn’t. You couldn’t get your 10 training weeks back and you would have to do the weight cut all over again.

It was a shit sandwich, and it made you feel completely out of control. It made you crave for someone else to put you right again. For Alessia to remind you that she had control always.

Maybe that’s why you chose your satin button-down shirt to go to dinner with your girlfriend and her teammates and paired it with tight black skinny jeans.

It wasn’t often that you liked to push Alessia’s control. That you toed the boundaries that she set, but tonight it felt like the prize comparable to stepping into the cage.

With the little black dress she had worn, you really couldn’t blame yourself either. You could never resist when she showed off her legs. You were obsessed and she knew it. It was probably why she had chosen the outfit, to begin with.

It was probably designed as a reward of sorts for after your fight, except you weren’t having a fight. So you supposed it was kind of like a consolation prize.

Except you felt wound too tightly to really enjoy it.

“So that’s it, they just call the whole thing off?” Ella asked leaning forward to rest her chin in her hand.

“Yep,” You popped the p, your finger running a gentle circle on Alessia’s exposed knee. “I can’t even sign a paper that says I’m fine fighting him despite the failed drug test, and it’s too late to find a replacement even if we allow a catchweight,”

She let the movement continue, the hand wrapped around your shoulder gently squeezing the arm furthest away from her.

While she was relieved that the rules prevented you from fighting a man on steroids, she knew how gutted you were about the cancellation.

“Probably for the best mate,” Leah said, sipping her wine.

You shrugged, letting your finger trail a little higher on Alessia’s leg.

It was slightly too… forward for the steakhouse her teammates had chosen, but with the dimmed lights you figured no one could see your hand under the white tablecloth anyway. Not with how close you were sitting to your girlfriend.

“I already made weight, so it’s kind of a waste,” You muttered, dragging your nails up the inside of her thigh to just below the hem of her dress. “I’ll have to start camp all over again unless I take something short notice,”

“Can you do that?” Mary asked, from your other side.

You shrugged again. “I told Dana I was game if he needed someone to fill in, so we’ll have to see,”

Alessia’s eyebrows pulled tighter together “You didn’t tell me that, love,”

“Didn’t I?” You asked, feigning dumb, as your fingers finally made it past the hem of her dress. “Must have forgotten. I’m excited to see you all play on Tuesday though,”

You ran your nail across the sensitive skin on the inside of her thigh, dangerously close to her center. But before you could make it any further, her free hand caught your wrist, and repositioned you so your hand was resting very innocently near her knee again.

“Ireland is always fun to face,” Ella smiled at you. “Should be a bit chippy,”

“I’ll definitely be rocking my MacCabe jersey,” You matched her expression, your thumb again beginning to rub circles into Alessia’s skin.

Leah frowned, dropping her menu. “You will?”

“Absolutely,” You smirked, wiggling your eyebrows and slyly trailing your thumb back up Alessia’s thigh. “Gotta support my favorite foul-mouthed Gooner,”

Leah’s eyes went wide, and Alessia squeezed your shoulder.

“And what about me?” Your girlfriend asked, a pout pulling at her lips.

You wiggled your eyebrows, a witty remark at the tip of your tongue, knowing it would piss her off, but the tension in your chest made you unable to stop yourself.

You wanted to push her. To force a reaction, even when you knew all you had to do was ask for what you wanted.

“Are you ladies ready to order?” A waiter asked, appearing behind Leah before you could let it fly.

You let your smirk widen, closing your menu with a thud and making eye contact with the waiter.

“Since she’s not on the menu,” You started, leaning closer to your girlfriend for just a second, edging your hand even further up her thigh until it was again past the hem of her dress. “I think I’ll have the tomahawk, medium rare with a Yorkie and the roasted carrots please,”

You winked at the waiter for good measure as the table giggled and Alessia’s cheeks turned bright red.

The waiter cleared his throat, turning his attention to your girlfriend. “And for you ma’am?”

Alessia opened her mouth, probably to order, but you cut her off instead.

“She’ll take the sirloin, medium with the Orzo and kale salad,” You said, reciting her normal order with perfect precision. “And she’ll be having me for dessert later,”

More giggles erupted from your friends, and you dragged your hand impossibly higher, extending your pinky so it brushed against her underwear.

She inhaled sharply next to you, sending you a warning side eye as the rest of the table continued to order, but she didn’t immediately remove your hand.

You ignored her warning, letting your pinky slide over the satiny fabric of her underwear.

It wasn’t what she normally wore, and you couldn’t help the wolfish grin that took over your features.

She had worn lingerie for you.

Maybe that should have stopped you. Made you consider that you wouldn’t get anything if you kept pushing, but again you couldn’t seem to help yourself.

“Will you be in the Ireland friends and family section then?” Leah asked, wiggling her eyebrows at your girlfriend. “Cause I don’t think my family or Less’ will enjoy you wearing the opposing team’s jersey,”

You made a noise like you were considering it as you finally slid your hand up and cupped your girlfriend’s heat. “I don’t think I’d feel at home though. Surely your family can deal with it right Less?”

Alessia nodded once, very stiffly. “My family loves you no matter what you’re wearing,”

You smiled impishly at her, adding just a little more pressure to her core.

She shifted in her seat, leaning very close to your ear, as Ella started talking about some movie she and Joe had watched, taking the attention of the rest of Alessia’s teammates.

“They’d even love you if you had to wear your collar at the game,” She chuckled darkly in your ear, her voice soft enough to get lost in the noise of the restaurant as her free hand yet again caught your wrist and pulled your hand back to a much more innocent position. “Now behave, or I promise you’ll regret it,”

You pulled away, your devilish smirk only getting broader. “No,”

Her eyebrows furrowed her expression something between anger and concern and warning, like she was trying to figure out why you were pushing the boundaries when you never did before.

You wiggled yours in return, offering her nothing else before joining the conversation of her teammates.

You weren’t ready to talk yet.

You were too content digging yourself deeper and deeper.

*****

You continue to push Alessia all throughout dinner, taking every opportunity to make her blush or to creep your hand further up her thigh. At one point you had even wiggled a finger beneath her underwear before she could stop you.

And your behavior hadn’t stopped once you left the restaurant.

You definitely placed your hand far too low on her waist as you and your friends walked back to the hotel the UFC had rented for you, and winked cheekily at the fans as you entered the building, spending far too long signing things and flirting just to annoy your girlfriend.

You knew from the “come on darling,” and the way she wrapped her arm around you, her fingers closing gently around the back of your neck that you were in serious trouble as she led you into the hotel and to the elevator.

“Good luck mate,” Leah nodded towards you as she stepped into her hotel room after Mary and Ella. “Think you’re gonna need it after that show,”

She tilted her head toward your girlfriend glaring a hole in Leah’s doorframe.

“Good night Leah,” Your girlfriend bit out, pressing her thumb into the space at the very center of the back of your neck.

Leah rolled her eyes at the movement, well aware of the dynamic between you and your girlfriend. More aware than most of her teammates for both club and country because of how long you had known her. “Right you two, do have too much fun,”

You stared at the door for a long moment after it closed, the tension in your chest bleeding down to your stomach.

You knew your time was up. That you would have to pay the piper so to speak, and it had guilt swirling along with the unpleasantness.

You knew that all you had to do was utter a word and it would all be over.

You knew that Alessia would stick to your limits, no matter how hard you pushed her, but you couldn’t help the… lingering anxiety that came from your past relationships.

The ones that took advantage of your submissiveness, and the unhealthy way you had always chosen to deal with stress. The ones that ignored your pain for their own pleasure.

“Come on then,” Alessia said, very gently running the nail of her thumb down the length of the back of your neck, and squeezing your shoulder.

You hummed, allowing her to lead you down the hallway to your own hotel room door, but she paused before she opened it. You looked up at her, realizing suddenly that you were trapped between her and the door.

She stepped closer so your noses were nearly touching. She dragged her hand from your neck to your chin, using her thumb to tilt your head to where she wanted it.

“I love you,” She said, her voice soft and sincere. “No matter what,”

She leaned in the last centimeter separating you, connecting your lips in a very sweet kiss.

You leaned into it, opening your mouth when her tongue poked out, welcoming it and meeting it with your own so they spun in a slow dance.

It was the reminder that you desperately needed.

The promise that she would take care of you, even when you acted like a brat.

She pulled away just enough to disconnect your lips, and your mouths separated with a low pop.

“Remind me of your colors,” Alessia said, her thumb running across your cheek.

“Green for good, yellow for slow down, and red for stop,” You recited, your voice breathless.

“Good girl,” She hummed. “Open the door, and take off your shirt and pants once we get inside,”

You swallowed hard at the change of tone.

“Yes Miss,” You said, already pulling the key card from the back pocket of your jeans. You didn’t look away from her as you fumbled until you heard the lock on the door beep, and clumsily pushed it open.

You stumbled backward, unwilling to break eye contact with your girlfriend because you knew you would probably get very little of it tonight.

She turned away from you as soon as the door slammed shut, busying herself with something you didn’t know.

“I believe I told you to do something,” She said, not even sparing a look over her shoulder at you, and you realized you had been staring for too long.

You cleared your throat, your fingers trembling as they unbuttoned your straining shirt.

You carefully pulled the satin materials from your shoulders, folding it neatly and laying it on the bed before you started on your pants.

It took you three tries to undo the button, the zipper getting caught in the stretchy material of your boxers. You peeled your tight jeans down your legs, folding them and placing them next to your shirt.

You felt Alessia’s presence behind you as you pulled off your shoes and socks.

As soon as they had been placed in their rightful place, her hand found its way to your bare back.

The touch was soothing and grounding and exactly what you needed to combat the slightly floaty feeling in your brain.

The hand slid up your back, all the way to your neck.

“Kneel,”

The soft squeeze on the back of your neck was like magic, as was the soft, but stern order.

You sank to your knees without question, your butt resting on your heels, your hands facing palm up on your thighs, your back straight and your head bowed, as the tension in your chest slowly ebbed away.

“I think we need to have a chat,” She continued, the hand on your neck sliding up to run through the hair at the base of your skull. Her nails scratched soothingly at your scalp. “Because your behavior in the restaurant is not the behavior of the good girl I trained,”

You grunted, glaring at a spot in the carpet.

You didn’t want to talk.

You already had to talk to Dana, to your coaches, and to the media. You had nothing left to say.

“Do you want to tell me what that was about at dinner?” She asked you, the fingers on your scalp wrapping through your curls. She gave it a sharp tug, forcing you to look up at her. “Because I’d really like to know what the fuck you were playing at,”

Her blue eyes burned into you, concerned and… something else lingering below the surface.

“I wasn’t playing at anything,” You grit out.

She raised a perfect eyebrow at you, as she searched your face.

“Is this because your fight was canceled?”

You didn’t answer her, unwilling to admit how… off balanced it made you feel.

But that was enough of an answer for her.

Her eyes softened minutely. “Baby,”

You shook your head.

You didn’t want her sympathy or her pity.

You wanted her to crush you.

“Alright,” She signed, tilting your head back so far it was painful. “I’m going to give you 2 options. We can call Clarke and Lexa and they can run you through a workout,”

You shivered at the mention of your respective striking and jujitsu coaches, knowing already that whatever the alternative was, you would be choosing it.

“Or you can take a punishment of my choosing,” She finished. “It won’t be an easy one,”

“I’ll take a punishment,” You muttered after a beat.

You didn't need easy right now.

She hummed, holding you close for a long second, and you relished in the attention.

That had been why you acted out at all anyway.

She dropped her hold on your hair suddenly, and you crashed back on your knees.

“On the wall,” She said, completely cutting contact with you, and walking towards the little kitchen area of the suite.

You let out a shaky breath, pushing yourself to your feet, and shuffled over to the wall next to the television across from the couch.

You turned to face the couch, wincing when Alessia pulled a wine glass out of the cabinet and a jug of water from the counter and returned to you.

She carefully filled the glass to the halfway mark, before her attention turned to you.

You knew immediately what punishment she had chosen.

The rules were simple, you would balance the glass in one of the designated calisthenic positions. If the water spilled, or the glass fell then you would move to the next position. The punishment would be over when you made it through all 15 positions to Alessia’s satisfaction, or if you safeworded.

It sounded easy, or like it wouldn’t be effective, but that was entirely wrong. It was the punishment that you hated the most.

Your stomach never failed to drop when Alessia approached you with the wine glass and water. Just the sight of her with it was enough to have your muscles quivering at the impending fatigue.

“Ready darling?”

You made a low sound, leaning back against the wall, bending your knees, and getting into the first position.

A wall sits with your knees pressed together to focus the pressure on your quads.

She used a hand on your shoulder to push you further down the wall until your thighs sat parallel to the floor, and then very carefully balanced the stem of the wine glass between your knees so the base just barely brushed your hamstring.

You frowned. She usually balanced it on top of your legs further up your thighs so all you had to do was stay level. But where it was now meant that you would have to stay level and squeeze with your adductors so it didn’t slip and spill the water.

“Tell me your color,” She said, her thumb sweeping under your chin, drawing your eyes away from the glass to meet her blue.

“Green,” you murmured, leaning into the gentle touch.

“Good,” She hummed, cupping your cheek for another long second before she pulled away. “I’ll be right there, reading my book,”

Your gaze trailed after her as she settled herself on the couch directly across from you, picking up the 7 Husbands of Evelyn Hugo. She easily found her page and began to read.

You glanced back to the balancing glass between your knees. It was already shaking slightly, the liquid vibrating around the bowl of the glass with the effort of your muscles to keep it in place.

It irritated you that you could already feel your quads and adductors quivering. It was pathetic that they were already fatigued after only 30 seconds.

You grit your teeth, letting your hips slip down further so you could squeeze with your glutes to take a little bit of the pressure off of your adductors. The glass shifted minutely, and the water inside sloshed dangerously before it settled.

Your eyes flickered back up to Alessia, wondering if she saw it too, but her eyes stayed planted in her book.

That irritated you too.

The only upside to your fight being canceled was that you got to spend more time with her. You wouldn’t have to split your attention between her and not getting your face caved in.

Now you didn’t even have that.

You thought of safewording and forcing an early end to your punishment. It would be a violation of the rules though.

But when she found out that you broke her trust (the most severe infraction you could ever commit) she might choose a more… harsh punishment. One of the ones that was listed in the soft limits the two of you had agreed upon. One that would separate you from reality, and leave you feeling floaty and thoroughly controlled. Thoroughly owned.

A part of you wanted her to forcibly put you in your place. To disregard how bad it would feel tomorrow and the bad memories it would bring up for you, and just demolish you. To crush your will and grind you into dust. To beat you into oblivion.

It was what your opponent would have done anyway.

You knew Alessia would never agree to it while you were this upset. She didn’t like to give in to your self-destructive tendencies.

The glass between your knees shook again, drawing your attention back to the warm fire setting deeply into your quads. They would ache tomorrow you were sure, but then again wasn’t that part of the point?

It would be a reminder that even when she wasn’t with you, you belonged to Alessia. It was an invisible mark that claimed you. That reminded you she would always take control when you felt dangerously unstable.

And then it clicked.

This punishment was Alessia’s favorite because it was based on your choice to obey her. Your choice to push your body to its limits to please her. Your choice to give her control over you.

She didn’t need to use a belt or a paddle to bend you to her will.

She just had to ask.

You just had to relax and trust that she would take care of you.

You let out a long breath, counting down from 3 in your head. You let it fall back into the wall with a low thump and your shoulders sagged, as the remaining tension in your chest drained out of you.

“Good girl,” Alessia said softly, and the page of her book turned. Your eyes darted back to her, hoping that they would be on you, but they weren’t.

She looked so composed, both legs tucked under her, reading her book. It was diametrically opposed to how you felt, completely out of control. A quivering mess fighting to stay in a simple wall sit.

It further reminded you of your place, and the weight of it was enough to have your eyes sliding closed.

You focused on your breathing, 3 seconds and 3 seconds out. Deep and slow.

You lasted for more breaths before the glass slid from between your legs, landing on the carpeted floor with a light thud.

Your eyes snapped open, and again you expected to meet Alessia’s eyes, but they remained trained on her book.

“Next please,” She said softly, flipping another page in her book.

You slid down the wall to the floor, sucking in another long breath as you nodded, wishing that she would just look at you, but you knew that was part of the punishment too.

You took another breath as you rolled over to your stomach and sat yourself up on your elbows, squeezing your core. It was a slightly modified plank designed to show off the muscles in your back and arms for the benefit of your girlfriend and to give your legs a break for a bit.

She waited until you were in a position to stand, slowly padding over to you and grabbing the wine glass off of the floor.

She paused next to you, and you felt the way her eyes dragged across the muscles on your back.

“Always so pretty for me,” She hummed and you heard the water as she refilled the glass. “Too bad you can’t have the reward I had planned,”

Her touch lingered as she carefully balanced it between your shoulder blades, and stepped away.

“Let’s see if you can beat your best time on this one,” She said, talking more at you than to you. “Your record is 22 minutes, which isn’t quite championship timing. I think you need to make it at least 25,”

You groaned.

Her competitive streak was legendary and often a part of your punishment when you had been particularly ornery. You switched positions at her pleasure, so you knew you would be planking all night if you couldn’t break 25 minutes.

It was like when she decided you needed to break your edging record.

There would be no mercy unless you safeworded.

You focused on your breathing as she sauntered back to the couch, fighting to keep your core and back muscles locked to prevent the glass from tipping.

Your abs clenched, and you so badly wanted to roll your shoulders to relieve the tension building in the space between them. The space holding the glass.

You focused on the sound of Alessia’s breathing. Each rhythmic inhale and exhale like the clicking of a metronome, broken only by the occasional fluttering of a page.

You wished she had put the timer in front of you so you could see how long you had left.

But then again that would probably be worse.

You always found it harder to go the distance in a fight when you could see the clock ticking down. It always made you feel more exhausted at the end of the round, and made standing up off of your stool at the start of the next round that much harder.

You sucked in another breath, refocusing on the sounds of Alessia’s inhales and exhales. You counted each one, letting them wash over you and lul the fog slowly seeping through the crevices in your brain.

It let you forget the trembling in your core muscles and the sting between your shoulders. They didn’t matter. All that mattered was each of Alessia’s breaths, and your ability to please her.

To be honest, you forgot about the water balancing on your back.

You shifted, lifting your head so you could watch Alessia, and that sent the glass tumbling to the floor with a low thud.

She looked up at the noise, pushing herself to her feet and grabbing the glass.

“Good job darling. You made time.” She rewarded you by meeting her eyes for a long second and flashing you a winning smile. “Position 3,”

You took another deep breath as she filled the glass.

You pushed yourself up into a pushup position, slowly lifting your right arm and left leg so they extended.

Your arms shook immediately, and it was then that you recognized just how exhausted you were already. Your core ached in a way that was edging on unpleasant, and your back felt like you had run 5 rounds with your jujitsu coach.

It was strange that you felt so drained and you had only made it through 2 positions.

Alessia waited until you were stable before she balanced the glass in the very same area between your shoulder blades.

The spot that felt so tight.

You knew you weren’t going to last long before she even stepped away. But you tried to breathe through it. You tried to ignore the little beads of sweat collecting at the small of your back, and the cramp setting in just below the glass, radiating up to your neck.

You deserved the pain. You had done your damndest to make sure Alessia gave it to you.

“Tell me your color,” Alessia said, her voice dripping dominance, sending a shiver down your spine and causing the glass to tumble off your back.

You collapsed to the floor.

You hadn’t even made it a minute.

“‘M ok,” You murmured into the carpet, each breath rattling as it left your lips.

You hadn’t even lasted long enough for Alessia to make it back to her seat.

It was pathetic.

“That’s not what I asked you,” She said, crouching next to you, her hand resting on the throbbing space between your shoulders. “Tell me what your color is,”

Your brain ran into overdrive, taking stock of the burn in your thighs, and the way the muscles in your back were locked up tight, and before you could even think through all the reasons why you shouldn’t safe word, “red,” was falling from your lips.

You had been red before you even started position 3, you realized.

“Good girl,” She said, settling fully down beside you, her hand running soothingly up and down your sweat-soaked back. “You did so well for me, and I’m so proud of you for knowing your limits,”

You groaned into the carpet as warmth spread through your chest, chasing away the last of the tightness that had been there since Dana caught you after the weigh-ins.

“‘M sorry for pushing you,” You mumbled, your words nearly getting lost in the floor. “Didn’t know how to…”

You trailed off, losing your train of thought. You weren’t even sure what you didn’t know how to do, only that antagonizing your girlfriend. Your miss. Had been the only way that seemed to make sense to achieve it.

“I know darling,” She hummed, gripping under your arms and shifting so your head was resting in her lap and your upper body was between her legs. “Take some deep breaths for me, and then we’ll get you cleaned up and we can cuddle,”

You made a low sound of agreement. You felt content with her completely around you, her scent enveloping you, and her hands running gently through your tangled hair.

She was the stability to your rocky seas, and you trusted that she would take care of you, just like she had already tonight.

A cuddle sounded perfect because it was perfect.

It was everything you needed. She was everything you needed.

#woso x reader #woso imagines #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #the come down universe

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azzibuckets · 5 months ago

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now that we don’t talk [part 2 | paige bueckers]

paige bueckers x fem!reader

summary: you and paige reunite, but in the worst way possible

a/n: i wrote this part like a month ago but i never posted it. im not sure about continuing this series because i dont have a vision for how i want it to go

word count: 3.4k

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You shut your eyes, exhaling. The breath that came out was shaky, and you hated it. You hated feeling this weak and unstable before a game, when usually you were all collected and confident.

Your brain was a battle of emotions. Your school, USC, was facing off against UConn in a pre-season match today, and since it was the first game of October, the administration on both teams had agreed to dedicate this game to Breast Cancer Awareness Month.

In a kind gesture that had left you at a loss for words, your head coach Gottlieb had organized custom pink shirts for the entire team to wear during warmup, with a painting of your grandma’s face in the front and one of her quotes on the back - “Strength is not the absence of fear, but the courage to confront it.” Your grandma had been a force in the basketball world, being one of the founders and fighters of the WNBA, and you knowed that part of the reason why both USC and UConn were rallying so hard for breast awareness was because both coaches knew of your relationship with your grandma.

After taking a few more deep breaths, you felt calm enough to rejoin your team as they warmed up their shooting. Looking around, you laid eyes on Paige, who was silently stretching in the corner. You took her in - her blonde hair was up in her typical game day do, with her braids in the front and the rest of her hair collected into a tight ponytail. She looked good, her cheeks slightly rosy, her eyes concentrated. You felt your heatt flutter as you examined her, but your heart suddenly dropped when you realized what she was wearing.

You knew this was bad idea, but you couldn’t help yourself. You found your legs pacing towards Paige, carrying you with a level of authority you didn’t know you had.

“What the fuck is this?”

Paige turned around, her resistance band now hanging limp in her hand. She did a double take once she realized who’d just spoken to her, her eyes carefully and unashamedly taking you in. “What?”

You gestured aggressively at her ahirt. “Take it off.”

Paige’s eyes hardened as she leaned back from you. “Excuse me?”

“I said, take it off.” Your voice was icy and unfamiliar to your own ears. In your peripheral vision, you saw heads starting to turn, as girls from both teams watched with curiosity as you stepped closer to Paige, anger drawn on both of your faces.

“Where did you even get it from?” Your voice trembled as you studied Paige’s shirt again. It was familiar to you, because you had the exact same one, just in different colors, hanging up in your room. It was your grandma’s jersey, from her high school team in the 1960s. As far as you knew, she only had a few, and she’d given one to you, one that you’d viligantly taken care of since you’d received it.

Paige raised her chin defiantly. “She gave it to me.”

Those words knocked you off your feet, and you stumbled even though you’d been standing still. “No, she didn’t.” Paige only gritted her teeth without responding. Desperate for a reaction, for anything than just silence, you continued, “She wasn’t even your grandma.” It was a low blow, and you knew it. Over the course of your friendship and then relationship, Paige had gotten almost as close to your grandma as you were. They had adored each other, and back then you had loved the way they loved each other. But now, you couldn’t seem to hate anything more.

You were spiraling, a destructive disarray of grief and bitterness and jealousy. When your grandma had died two months ago, you’d wished that Paige would’ve done more then send a couple of DMs on Twitter. But she didn’t, hadn’t reached out after that, which you couldn’t exactly blame her for because she owed no obligation to comfort you. You guys weren’t even dating anymore. But you’d hopelessly wanted Paige to do more, to show up on your doorstep and take you into her arms.

Paige, seemingly unaffected by your desperate words, regarded you coolly. “How would you know?” she asked menacingly, the hostility in her tone sending shivers down your spine. “You weren’t even there for her in the last few months.” She paused before landing her final blow. “But guess who was?” Her eyebrows cocked as she brushed past you and went back to her team on the court.

It felt like Paige had physically hit you, the way your heart stuttered and your mind reeled. You clenched your first, wishing you’d never came over here in the first place.

“Hey.” A gentle hand brushed your shoulder. Familiar perfume filled your nostrils, and you turned around to see Caroline.

Holding back a sob, she opened her arms and you fell into them. This was too much. Your nasty exchange with Paige, combined with the loss of your grandma still achingly fresh in your mind, along with the guilt of seeing the team that you’d left without so much as a goodbye. You’d been avoiding their looks the entire warmup. Nika had tried to talk to you earlier, but you’d brushed her off. And now, Caroline was standing in front of you, with the softest smile on her face as if you hadn’t ghosted her for the last year.

Caroline, one of your closest friends from your two years at UConn, comfortingly rubbed your back as you embraced her. When you pulled back, you almost couldn’t meet her eyes. “I’m sorry,” you rasped, looking down.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” The kindness in her tone almost sent you into another fit.

“But I do.” You bit your bottom lip. “I transferred to USC without telling any of you guys. And when I left, I didn’t even bother to say goodbye. All I did was send a stupid text.” You kicked the ground, chastising yourself for how you’d treated your closest friends.

“You were hurting.” Caroline squeezed your arms. “We all understand. None of us are mad, alright? We all just miss you.” When you didn’t say anything, too overwhelmed with guilt, she nudged you. “You wanna make it up to us?”

You nodded quickly. Anything.

“Come hang with us after. At my place. No bar, nothing public. Just you and us. We can catch up, you can tell us all about USC and we’ll give you all the latest drama here.”

Thoughts of Pauge flashed through your mind before you shut it down. It was time to stop putting your feelings over Paige before your friends. You had to rebuild the gap, for the sake of the girls that you loved. “I’ll be there,” you responded, and Caroline’s eyes lit up with a grin.

“Great,” she beamed. “And about your grandma. I’m so sorry, babe. She was a really good person.”

You nodded. “Thank you. She really was.” Caroline gave you one last hug before you both parted ways to finish warming up before the game.

———————————-

Sweat dripped off your temples. You blinked roughly, trying to stave off the fogginess creeping in at the edge of your vision. Your muscles ached, screaming for oxygen and a break from the constant back-and-forth of the game. Whenever you opened your mouth, your throat burned from all the screaming you’d done over the past hour to attempt to communicate as well as UConn was doing.

It was no use. You’d been part of the UConn system before, and the drills that Geno had spent hours on, making sure you guys talked through every play, calling out unders or overs on screens, back door cuts, and picks, made the defensive coordination of UConn the best in the nation. Your team was starting to loosen at the seams and fall behind, and you could sense it.

The entire game had been intense, a battle of aggression between the two teams seemingly fueled by the personal vendettas between you and Paige, each captains of your respective teams. She was relentless, having scored 30 points with 2 minutes left in the last quarter. You’d yet to defend her, which was a relief. You didn’t know if you could bear all the aggressive contact, the tensions, the overflow of emotions that would occur once you started to guard her.

After Aaliyah posted up to score another latup, Gottlieb signaled for a time out. “Alright,” she declared, focusing her eyes on you. “You’re taking Paige. I want you to press her hard. Keep your weight off your heels and don’t cross your feet.”

You squirted water into your mouth, nodding. You guys were down by 5 points, and shutting down Paige was the main priority right now. USC broke, but Juju grabbed your arm. “Hey,” she said lowly. “Keep your emotions out of this, alright? Focus on the game.”

You clenched your jaw, avoiding eye contact with your best friend. “I got it. I want to win just as much as you do.”

“Okay.” Juju clearly didn’t believe you, but she released your arm and jogged back to her spot. You rolled back your shoulders. Right now was not the time to think about how Paige was looking at you, or how her girlfriend was sitting court-side, just a few feet from your assigned spot. You wiped the bottom of your shoes, trying to get rid of the sweat in your palms and add some traction to your feet. Leslie eyed you the entire time, smacking her gum loudly. “Come on, Paige!” she cheered with an obnoxious grin as soon as she made eye contact with you. You clenched your jaw, feeling Juju give you a warning look from across the court.

One of your teammates unbounded the ball, and you took off across the court. Rayah stepped out to set a screen, but you drove baseline away from it. You received the ball as you reached the post, and you passed it to Juju, who was waiting at the 3. The play ran beautifully, but as the ball arched towards Juju, a hand reached up and knocked it down.

Paige grabbed the ball and passed it down the court to Nika. You sprinted to defense, heart pumping, fueled by the humiliation of getting a pass intercepted, and by Paige of all people. You reached Nika, lunging for the ball in a desperate last second attempt, but she side stepped you for the layup, sending you flying across the floor.

You heard the oohs of the crowds as you landed hard on your butt, your ankle twisted underneath you. Biting your lip to muffle your shout of pain, you clenched your jersey to try and assuage the throbbing in your tailbone and leg.

You heard a commotion around you, and suddenly there was Paige, standing above you, concern etched into her eyebrow. She held out a hand, but Juju quickly appeared, bending down to touch your elbow and offering her own hand. Ignoring Paige, you wrapped both of your hands around Juju’s as she heaved you up.

Paige stepped back, her mouth in an unforgiving line. “You okay?” she asked, tone haughty and neutral.

“She’s fine,” Juju snapped, stepping protectively between the two of you. “Give her some space, will you?”

Paige held her hands up in surrender and took a couple steps back. Her gaze on you stayed with unwavering intensity, though. But you avoided it, like you’d done the entire game, and let the trainer examine you.

“You good?” Nika ran up to you, chest heaving. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Yeah.” You smiled in reassurance at her. “Not your fault. Don’t worry about it.”

Nika nodded as the trainer helped you up and led you off the court. Paige’s gaze burned into your back, but when you turned around, she quickly averted her eyes.

You hadn’t injured yourself, only taken a rough fall, but you still sat on the bench for the remaining minute of the game. Unfortunately, with your dominating presence out, USC couldn’t catch up, and your team lost by a single heartbreaking point.

You walked slowly as USC and UConn formed lines to wish each other a good game. You’d been nervous beforehand, thinking about what to say to the girls, but Caroline had told the truth. None of them seemed to have anything against you, all pulling you in for a tight hug and telling you how good you played and how much they missed you. So although you were exhausted and your ankle was starting to throb again, you knew that you had to go to Caroline’s hangout.

—————————-

“Oh my god, come in!” You chuckled as Azzi opened the door and practically started jumping on her heels from excitement. You grabbed Juju’s hand and led her in from behind you. She was there for backup, a familiar face in a sea of once familiar faces. When you’d asked the Uconn girls if she could come, they’d all happily agreed, saying that they’d been wanting to meet the freshman phenom that had taken the basketball world by storm.

The girls were scattered around Caroline’s apartment. Some of them were sprawled on the couch, watching an NBA game as if they hadn’t had enough basketball for the night. Others were drinking wine in the kitchen and picking at a charcuterie board. Thankfully, you didn’t see any sign of a blonde when you scanned the room, and let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.

“Hey guys, this is Juju.” Juju waved her hand shyly, and everyone clambered up to meet her. You smiled at the scene. Despite rivalries on the court and the vigor that UConn played with, you knew they left behind all of that once the shot clock buzzed for the final time. These girls were the nicest you’d ever met, welcoming everyone as their own.

You and Juju found a spot on the couch. You were almost getting comfortable before the door swung open and a familiar laugh filled the room. You didn’t bother to look up, trying to play it cool, but when Juju laid a hand on your arm in warning the same time an unfamiliar voice resonated, you realized that a certain brunette had came too.

Masking your face with indifference, you congratulated yourself for having the power to control your facial expression once Paige and Leslie tumbled into the family room, Leslie’s hands attached to Paige’s waist as they both laughed, obviously already having put some drinks into their system before coming here. You ignored the silence that had fallen over the rest of the team as they realized the awkwardness of the situation.

“I’m so sorry,” Caroline mouthed from her spot on the armchair. “I didn’t know she was gonna be here.”

You only shrugged, your eyes focused on your lap as you tried to maintain your facade of apathy. Juju shifted closer to you in support, and you’d never loved her more.

“Okay!” Caroline said brightly, cutting through the heavy tension in the room. “Who wants a margarita?” All the girls cheered, and the ambience in the apartment returned as conversations resumed.

This is only awkward if you let it be awkward, you thought. You and Paige had broken up over a year ago. You could be civil. You were so over her. But you knew you were lying from the way your insides jolted when Leslie leaned in to press a loud kiss on Paige’s cheek.

Soon, some of the girls started recording Tiktoks and doing silly dances. You turned down their offers to make a cameo in their videos, content with just watching. As you observed rhem, it dawned on you how much you’d missed them. Their silliness made you laugh in a way you hadn’t laughed at in a long time. Throughout the entire night, you tried to pretend as if Paige and Leslie didn’t exist, although it was hard with the exuberant amount of PDA they were showing. They were sitting on each other’s laps, their hands wandering, and they weren’t making out but you almost wish they were so that you wouldn’t have to see either of their faces.

“Paige! Did you come here to celebrate or eye fuck your girlfriend the entire time?” KK yelled, waving a Nintendo controller. “Come play Smash Bros.”

Paige rolled her eyes, but she caught the controller that KK threw at her. She wrapped around Leslie, who was still on top her lap, and started to press buttons on the controller as she chose her chatacter. You stiffened at the memory of Paige doing the exact same thing with you, all those late nights she’d played Fortnite with the team, you falling asleep with your head in the crook of her neck as she gamed. It’d always ended with her carrying you to bed, tucking you in and wrapping her arms around yours.

“Watch out KK,” Leslie joked. “P is a beast at Smash Bros.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty good at smashing,” Paige teased, her words dripping with sexual undertones. Everyone groaned, and Leslie giggled, a high pitched and screeching noise that you thought could be used as torture for prisoners if put on replay.

Leslie reached for her margarita, but her movements were sluggish from her tipsy state, causing the alcohol to slosh over the side of the cocktail glass. Immediately, Paige jumped up, hurriedly removing Leslie from her lap as she examined herself. It was only then that you realized that Paige had taken off the sweater she’d arrived with and was now in your grandma’s jersey, a jersey that now sported a large wet stain.

“Leslie, oh my god.” She yelled, her voice panicked. “I told you to be careful.”

“Oh shit, my bad.” Leslie set down her drink and reached for Paige, who stepped backwards and away from her touch.

“You fucker.” The words were out of your mouth before you knew it, and all eyes in the room turned to you. Juju kicked you nervously, but you ignored her. “How could you?” You rushed over to Paige, looking closely at the jersey now reeking with alcohol. You held back tears as you saw the print already starting to fade. The jersey was 60 years old, already fragile and old, and you knew that it was now as good as ruined.

Paige turned to Leslie. “I thought I told you not to fucking drink while you were around me. You know how important this jersey is to me.”

Leslie stood rigid, her expression now calculated. “You guys are being so dramatic. Let me have the jersey. I’ll go wash it and bring it back good as new.”

“Don’t you dare fucking touch it.” You turned from Leslie, gently touching the frayed ends with shaky fingers. “You can’t just wash it. It’ll fall apart. Oh my god, you just ruined one of the only things my grandma left us.” Your voice was choked now, tears forming at your eyes. “Shit!” You slammed your first into the ground in anger.

The team exchanged hesitant looks, worry clear in their eyes. Juju came up from behind you. “Come on, babe,” she whispered. “I’m sure we can do something about it. Let me take a look, hmm?”

You moved aside, but from the look on Juju’s face as the faded patches and stressed seams became visible as she studied it, you knew there was no use. The tears started falling then, an uncontrollable stream that left you feeling broken. “Excuse me,” you whimpered, and you ran into the bathroom, locking yourself inside.

You heard murmurs of the team outside. You heard the front door slam. Soon, someone knocked softly on the door. “It’s Juju,” your friend called, and you resignedly unlocked the door and let her inside before shutting it again.

You slumped down on the ground, you face in your hands. “Oh,” Juju whispered, and she knelt down next to you as you started to sob.

Another knock came in, followed by a tentative voice calling your name. You exchanged looks with Juju, who got up and slipped outside.

“Are you serious right now?” Juju’s voice was muffled, but you could still hear the fury radiating from her words. “You know you’re the reason she’s crying right now?”

“I know.” A pause. “I need to apologize.”

“She doesn’t wanna see you right now.”

You heard Paige‘s sharp intake of breath. “Juju, please.”

You could practically feel Juju’s hesitance, but she must‘ve relented, because when the door opened, it was Paige who stepped in.

#paige bueckers #uconnwbb #anst #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb

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kotir-propaganda · 1 year ago

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Mossflower has so much going for it, like I’m not even being biased because my blorbo is in it. I will die on the hill of it being Best Redwall Book for several reasons.

-It’s as early Redwall as you can get without actually being Book 1. As such, it avoids a lot of subjects and patterns that would later become repetitive tropes... but it also avoids the Book 1 jankiness of horses and human structures and the implied existence of Portugal. The world as we will come to know it feels more or less fully realized here. The abbey’s not here yet, but its foundation literally is- and we also get our first look at Salamandastron and the extent of Mossflower Wood as a whole.

-It has some of the most solid protagonists around. The legendary hero Martin is here, but he’s at a low point for most of the story and has to work his way up to that legacy! And this is where he does it, this is what future Redwallers remember him for, not the events of Martin the Warrior. Also, Gonff is here? Hello? Maybe the single most charismatic character in the series? Not to mention Dinny, how often does a humble mole actually get to go on a quest in these books?

-This isn’t even getting into how badass all the rest of the woodlanders are, too, but... they absolutely are. This is a small band of rebels that’s been driven from their little houses, they don’t have the luxury of those huge sandstone walls to protect them, but they’re still fighting like hell and outsmarting their enemies to boot. Some of them are seasoned fighters, but some of them are just ordinary families, all banding together to take back their homeland. And they keep it up the whole time! They’re not just waiting around for a guy with a sword to tell them what to do!

-The villains are probably the most nuanced in the whole series. Seriously. There are four whole wildcats here (don’t forget Sandingomm!) and only ONE of them is unquestionably evil. It’s absolutely implied that Verdauga was a fearsome warlord in his day, but if nothing else, he raised ONE kid who turned out to be about as Lawful Good as you can get, and he actually scolds Tsarmina for being mean to her brother!! I wish we could have spent a little more time with Verdauga, honestly, I have so many questions for this man.

-There are a decent handful of morally grey characters here, actually. Chibb spies for the woodlanders, but he’s not the most dependable and is motivated by payment more than sympathy to their cause. Snakefish allies with our questing heroes, but he minces no words in warning them that he’ll just as soon eat them if it comes down to it. Even Argulor is really just out here looking for a bite to eat and can you really blame him, because ashleg is a snack

-Tsarmina herself is irredeemably cruel, but even still there are multiple facets to her. On one hand, she’s scary- big and powerful and ready to rip into anything/anyone with her bare claws. At the same time she can be a clever strategist when she wants to be- poisoning her father and framing her brother, and later manipulating two of her obstacles, Argulor and Bane, into taking each other out. And still yet it can be kind of funny to watch her in action, as she gets humiliated by the resistance on multiple occasions. And maybe there is even a little pathos there, as we see her mind start to slip, and get some glimpse into the deep fear and paranoia that completely overtake her at the end.

-There are just great supporting characters on both sides. Mask is amazing, Fortunata is fantastic. And yeah, Blorbo Supreme Ashleg is here, and I don’t NEED to write a whole essay about him to promote Mossflower as a whole but... having him here is nice! It helps!! May we all follow his example and pursue happier lives for ourselves!!!

-Mossflower laid the foundation for so many events and characters of later books. I mean yeah, it’s a prequel. It’s there to support the first book and by extension, everything that comes after. But so many other great titles in the series have a direct line to Mossflower, from Outcast to Long Patrol to Lord Brocktree and more. Did you enjoy those books? You’re welcome. The threads were already there, just waiting to be expanded upon.

-at one point a wooden leg gets used as a projectile weapon and if you don’t think that’s the best thing ever, I don’t know what else to tell you buddy

#redwall #mossflower

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thesilliestrovingalive · 3 months ago

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Updated: November 14, 2024

Reworked Character #6: Nadia Cassel

POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to death, neglect, sterilisation, human experimentation, abuse, kidnapping, stalking, cannibalism, and SA.

Real name: Nadège Véronique Comtois

Alias: Perky Foodie

Occupation: Private First Class of the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S., fighter pilot for the Regular Army, a freelance painter, a tactical scientist for the Amadeus Syndicate (formerly), and an e-celeb supermodel (formerly)

Retirement plans: Become a professional forensic scientist, acquire a private jet, and establish an art studio and an ethical science lab

Special skills: Marksmanship, aviation skills, forensic science, knowledge of biological hazards, anatomy, and genetics, and proficiency in fashion modelling, sketching, and painting

Imperfect clone abilities: At her own will, she can rapidly regenerate missing limbs and organs, minimising blood loss and restoring her body to its original form without the need for medical aid. Her blood possesses extraordinary healing properties, capable of instantly curing non-lethal ailments, skin punctures, and all manner of burns. When Nadia opens her mouth wide and flexibly shifts her upper and lower front teeth, she reveals four syringe-like fangs, which are neatly concealed within the hard palate. These fangs enable her to consume the blood of other living beings and replenish her own lost vital fluid.

Her body is resistant to all lethal toxins and pathogens. Notably, her pancreas, shielded by a thick layer of blubber, has the unique ability to produce a bile-infused silk. She utilises this silk to puke up robust, ensnaring nets that capture her victims and slowly burn them with its corrosive properties. Nadia’s hands feature reseda chartreuse eyes with feline pupils, granting her night vision, and her fingernails are entirely fleshy, concealing retractable claws made of an adamantine greenish-yellow material.

Hobbies: Painting landscapes, going on shopping sprees (she often buys gifts for her comrades and friends), reading books on human and animal anatomy, genetic engineering, and forensics, messing around with flight simulation software, and eating large quantities of food after each mission

Likes: Trevor, food challenges, the Walking Machines, maintaining her figure, and sunbathing and enjoying a three-scoop ice cream cone at the beach

Dislikes: Starvation, getting unnecessarily dirty, not getting the chance to pilot the Slug Flyer or Slug Copter, people doubting her fashion advice and telling her to keep her mouth shut, and individuals that she views as scary and incapable of having fun (such as Tequila and Eri)

Favourite food: Coq au vin, phaal curry, and anything sweet and sugary

Favourite drink: Cotton candy soda

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Gender: Female

Age: 12 (in 2022), 18 (in 2028), 20 (in 2030), 22 (in 2032), 24 (in 2034), 31 (in 2041), 33 (in 2043), 34 (in 2044), and 37 (in 2047)

Blood type: B+

Weight: 120 lbs. (54 kg)

Design: She’s a 5’ 4” (162.56 cm) French ectomorph with a gracefully thin body, small breasts, curvaceous hips, sloping shoulders, and a serpentine tongue covered in microscopic spikes. She has limestone skin and possesses feline-like pupils that transform into vertical slits only when she opens her mouth wide enough to reveal her concealed fangs. Her eyes are heterochromatic with her right eye being a warm amber, while her left eye is grey-green with brown flecks. Nadia has a few moles: one on the right side of her chin; one near the corner of her left eye; two above her left breast; one on the back of her right hand; and one slightly below her right knee.

She has raspberry red hair with voluminous curls that reach the middle of her upper back, but she often ties it into two pigtails with stretchy reseda green hair bands. She has a silvery-pink birthmark on her left shoulder, almost shaped like a crescent moon with three protruding spikes. A large circular patch on her upper back is stripped of skin, exposing crimson muscles and purplish veins, and her greenish-yellow spine is partially protruding.

Her military gear consists of a metal dog tag necklace with her name, an avocado green tank top, and the same knee pads and socks as Nadia Cassel from Metal Slug 4. She wears Argentine blue neoprene gloves, reseda green leather belt with a snap-on silver buckle, and a champagne-hued vest with the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. insignia on the back. She wears navy blue army cargo pants tucked into twilight lavender combat boots with spiked soles. She also wears a dirty white lab coat, a case for her stun gun, and a gun holster for a handgun. Underneath her uniform, she wears an identical bikini to Everlasting Summer Nadia's.

The pockets of Nadia’s vest carry around a pocket knife, a sticky note pad, a red pin, a black cellphone with a metallic green case, a blue pin, and a bag of macadamia nuts. In the pockets of her lab coat, she carries an orange-and-white cat plushie with blue eyes and an emerald green tie named Melekhai (used for stress relief), along with a caramel-filled chocolate candy bar in silver wrapping and a small pine-wood box of strawberry frosted sugar cookies. She wears a forest green waist pack containing a bottle of laxatives and two blood packs for snacking. Attached to the left side of her belt is a square-shaped pouch with a clear plastic window, showcasing balls of bubblegum and lollipops in different colours inside. The pouch features an amaranth pink outline, feline ears with bluish-white fur, a pistachio-hued strap with a black button clasp, and a metallic silver zipper.

Over her tank top, she dons a Soldier Plate Carrier System (SPCS) with a MultiCam pattern, which carries around her walkie-talkie and ammo for other firearms. She wears two dark brown bandoliers that cross over her body in an X-shape, each holding grenades. Nadia carries around a navy blue load-bearing backpack that contains camping equipment, portable ammo boxes, a canteen full of water, a 7.62mm AR-10 Autorifle, a medical kit, a DOLL bodysuit, and liquid and pill bottles of cures and deadly chemicals. She carries greenish-black gas masks, similar to those worn by the Ptolemaic Army special forces, to her teammates who needed them. She also carries around a painting kit, her mint green sketchbook with bubblegum pink polka dots, and a set of drawing pencils with two erasers and a sharpener.

She also wields a specialised rifle that fires needles containing transformative liquids, capable of altering humans into simian or mantis creatures. Additionally, she carries purplish rolling bombs that contain mummifying breath and throwable canisters filled with a zombie-inducing orangish phlegm that explodes upon impact. She wears safety goggles, star-shaped lavender spinel earrings that dangle from her ears, and a non-dangling peridot belly ring piercing.

Character summary: She boasts swift wit and inventive verbal humour, often outsmarting her foes with clever sabotage tactics. Despite being a childish, happy-go-lucky, and sassy goofball, she has a surprisingly intelligent and cynical side, but she loves to indulge her silly and jubilant nature. Due to her fondness for her exceptional intellect, she sometimes perceives other people as “intellectually inferior” to herself. She conceals her bitterness and wariness of strangers behind a facade of playful teasing, mischievous pranks, sarcastic remarks, and a charming smile. She cherishes her friendship with Trevor, who is her first true best friend. She appreciates his laid-back nature and ability to understand her effortlessly. Over time, she has developed subtle romantic feelings for him, largely due to his hacking expertise and the enjoyable quality time they share. However, she has become adept at concealing these emotions.

She enjoys taking her friends on shopping sprees, blending social time with style consultations. She demonstrates her loyalty to her friends by nurturing their relationships and showing platonic affection, often showering them with hugs and kisses. She's a fearless advocate for herself and others, refusing to tolerate bullying or any form of mistreatment, and will boldly speak out against it. She has a fondness for assigning nicknames to those around her, including friends and foes alike.

She's a friendly, humorous, and talkative busybody with a passion for creative expression and thrill-seeking adventures, which give her a taste of what it truly means to live. Despite efforts to maintain her supermodel figure, she has developed mild bulimia nervosa; while trying to resist the urge, she sometimes purges after eating. Additionally, she struggles with obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), manifesting as a fear of contamination, anxiety about misplacing valuable items, and a need for order and balance. She also experiences distressing thoughts, including fears of losing control, harming loved ones, and intrusive thoughts about sexual subjects. Whenever she hears about child abuse or unethical experiments, she becomes visibly shaken, her mind goes numb, and she withdraws socially for a few hours, succumbing to a melancholic state.

She takes a disturbing pleasure in obliterating her enemies, often letting out a maniacal laugh as she does so. Her humour is a unique blend of lighthearted and dark, peppered with French phrases, occasional broken English (a reminder that it's not her first language), and sprinkled with Korean expressions that Trevor has taught her. Outside of military work, she often dodges unwanted tasks by concocting elaborate schemes (frequently with Trevor's help) to avoid them. However, her plans often backfire, resulting in trouble for neglecting her duties. Moreover, she has a tendency to slack off during missions, especially when she becomes bored and her attention wanders to more exciting things. When she gets into trouble, especially when it involves people she has convinced to join her antics, she often tries to deflect responsibility by feigning innocence and shifting the blame onto others.

She possesses a fairly compassionate, laid-back disposition, which she only reveals to those closest to her. She's overconfident about her looks and seems unfazed by how people react to her inhuman features, yet she draws the line at absurd and unattainable beauty standards. She's deadly serious when needed and isn't afraid to intimidate people or berate individuals for doing something irrational or dangerous. She has a strong disdain for individuals who exhibit predatory behaviour, such as perverts and stalkers, and is unafraid to call them out and mock their actions mercilessly. She despises unnecessary secrecy and eugenics, opposing the lack of transparency and the racist underpinnings of genetic manipulation aimed at "improving" human populations.

She's quite gluttonous and becomes quickly hangry when she's extremely hungry and there's nothing to eat at the moment. She's an eavesdropper with a curious habit of inspecting, poking, probing, and even biting anything that piques her interest. She grapples with touch starvation, feeling emotionally isolated from others, and deeply dislikes being overlooked or ignored by those around her. She harbours intense resentment towards her mother due to her neglectful behaviour and excessive focus on satisfying scientific curiosity, which comes at the expense of considering others' needs and forming meaningful connections with them. She’s appalled by her mother's callous disregard for the pain she inflicts on others as well as the secrecy surrounding their family's lineage and her status as an imperfect clone.

Backstory: Nadège Véronique Comtois was born on August 6, 2010 in Quimper, France. She was created in a test tube through advanced Martian cloning technology and the DNA of Ghyslaine Laëtitia Comtois, her clone mother and founder of the Amadeus Syndicate, in an underground laboratory. Initially, Ghyslaine's interest in Nadège was rooted in scientific curiosity. She conducted psychological and sociological experiments to explore the similarities and differences between them. Ghyslaine would overfeed Nadège, only to discover that her daughter had an abnormal metabolism, making it challenging for her to gain weight. Unintentionally, Ghyslaine fueled Nadège's affection for junk food.

At age 7, Ghyslaine subjected Nadège to a disturbing and unethical experiment, forcibly inducing puberty and sterilising her daughter as part of a eugenics test. During this period, Nadège longed to experience the outside world and connect with her clone mother. Unfortunately, Ghyslaine's focus on research led her to neglect Nadège’s emotional needs. She treated her more like a guinea pig than a human being, providing minimal motherly comfort and attention.

At the age of 9, Ghyslaine decided it was time for Nadège to explore the outside world, which filled her clone daughter with excitement. Together, Nadège experienced her first-ever outing to a shopping district and explored several notable attractions in Quimper, including the Breton County Museum, the Fine Arts Museum, and the Faience Museum. She received Melekhai as a reward for being well-behaved, and she still holds onto the plushie very dearly since it was the first heartfelt gift her clone mother gave her. Her experience with the outside world sparked Nadège’s curiosity in modelling and the creative arts.

However, her mother had other plans. Ghyslaine envisioned Nadège following in her footsteps as a renowned scientist and eventual heir to the Amadeus Syndicate. To nurture this ambition, Ghyslaine frequently presented Nadège with books on biology and chemistry, encouraging her to delve into the sciences. She encouraged Nadège to cover the unusual features on her palms and upper back by wearing neoprene gloves and modest clothing in order to avoid drawing unnecessary attention or judgement from others.

By the age of 11, Nadège had become proficient in biology and chemistry, thanks to her mother's guidance. She began attending school after being previously homeschooled by Ghyslaine and other Amadeus Syndicate scientists. Although her school years were uneventful, Nadia occasionally faced bullying due to her intense interests in science, modelling, and the creative arts, as well as her unusual habit of wearing neoprene gloves to conceal her hand-eyes.

However, the bullying ceased after rumours circulated that she had intimidated and bitten a school bully by revealing her hidden snake fangs—a claim that was surprisingly true. Nadège’s clone mother was indifferent to her academic pursuits but drew a firm line at harming others and divulging confidential information about the Amadeus Syndicate. When Ghyslaine learned about this incident, she smacked her in the face, then confined her to a padded room with two blood bags and a fresh corpse for three hours. As dinnertime approached, Nadège's hunger grew, leading her to make the desperate decision to consume the contents of the blood bags and feed on the fresh corpse.

During her high school years, Nadège frequently skipped classes to go shopping, feeling that she already possessed a strong grasp of the material being taught in her courses. To avoid arousing suspicion about her exceptional intelligence, she intentionally performed poorly on a few tests. During this time, she experienced significant weight gain, which unfortunately led to bullying and negative comments about her appearance. However, she handled the situation with confidence and resilience, effectively standing up for herself and dismissing the hurtful remarks. After completing high school, she promptly enrolled in a two-year college art program, specialising in landscape drawing for animation studios, before pursuing forensic science at the university level.

While pursuing her forensic studies at university, Nadège unexpectedly catapulted to fame as an e-celebrity supermodel, adopting the pseudonym Nadia Cassel. Driven by a passion for fashion and curiosity about the modelling world, she embarked on this venture independently, without management, and solely for her own enjoyment. Although her rise to fame was modest at best, she didn't mind because she revelled in the opportunity to be herself and try something new. She formed a close bond with an orange-haired fan from Launceston, Tasmania, Australia, Ophelia Clementine Rourke (whom she affectionately calls Ophie), who would later become a fighter plane pilot for the Regular Army.

However, as her fame as an e-celeb supermodel grew, she started to attract unwanted attention from predatory individuals, which caused her significant distress. Her situation intensified when she inadvertently revealed her hand-eyes and exposed spine during a livestream, leading to an escalation of online harassment. After a deranged fan attempted to kidnap and sexually assault her, she empowered herself by obtaining a gun licence and rigorously training to use a firearm, becoming a skilled markswoman.

The stress of her forensic studies and the pressures of being a supermodel took a toll on Nadia's mental health, leading to the development of OCD and bulimia nervosa. Her struggles with maintaining a strict diet, keeping her model-worthy figure, and need for control became overwhelming. Eventually, Nadège made the decision to quit modelling as her mental health issues began to impact her studies. However, she kept the name of her e-celeb persona because she liked it. In a disturbing incident, she recalls defending herself against a stalker who attempted to assault and cannibalise her in her own home. The attack led to her involuntarily consuming the stalker's blood, unleashing a sadistic streak she never knew she had.

After completing her forensic studies, Nadia prioritised fitness to maintain her physical well-being. Having achieved her ideal body weight, she shifted her focus to obtaining her pilot's licence, inspired by Ophie to join the Regular Army's tactical operations. After obtaining her licence and receiving military training, Ghyslaine permitted Nadia to join the Amadeus Syndicate as a tactical scientist. She proved to be highly successful, making a name for herself as she pushed the boundaries of scientific understanding in biology and chemistry. Nadia supplied the Regular Army with stable bioweapons, gas masks, and advocated for training recruits on the dangers of biological hazards. During a joint tactical mission with the Amadeus Syndicate and Regular Army against a bioterrorist attack, Nadia met Trevor and quickly formed a friendship with him.

While searching Ghyslaine's office for documents for a chemical experiment, she stumbled upon classified test results revealing her true nature: an imperfect clone. The discovery shook her to her core. Further investigation led her to her clone mother's journal, exposing a dark family legacy of illicit collaborations with government agencies, inhumane wildlife experimentation, and development of devastating bioweapons and malicious computer viruses. Most alarming, however, was Ghyslaine's megalomaniacal plan for global domination and self-deification. Horrified, she contemplated abandoning the Syndicate, yet for mysterious reasons, she chose to stay.

During her work on a disease cure in South Africa, Nadia uncovered disturbing information: Ghyslaine sexually assaulted Marco, who was injured at the time. This traumatic event had far-reaching consequences, severely straining relations between the Regular Army and the Amadeus Syndicate. Horrified by Ghyslaine's actions, she defected to the Regular Army, dedicating herself to defending Earth against global threats. She vaguely recalls attempting to poison Ghyslaine by lacing her bitter coffee with powdered cyanide, but the plan backfired when another scientist accidentally drank from the cup instead.

She eventually joined the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. after befriending Fio and earning a sliver of respect from Eri. This was due to her impressive performance as a prospective agent, where she swiftly identified the chemical composition of a new illicit drug that had been baffling the Intelligence Agency. She achieved this by obtaining crucial documents and conducting rigorous, ethical experiments. Following the Survival Island Occupation, she provided crucial assistance to the hostages and kidnapped cadets who had been transformed into grotesque simian and mantis creatures, administering cures that successfully restored them to their human form.

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masterjedilenawrites · 1 year ago

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In Other Words: Hold My Hand - Chapter 1

Weee look at me, starting another story when I have so many others left to finish 🙃 To be fair, I started this one a while ago and fully intended to get it off the ground sooner. But, you know, life. So after a sudden burst of creativity and motivation (while caught in throes of my Hux BS), here we are, chapter one ready to be released into the world. Just don't ask me when chapter two will come...

Part One: Hold My Hand

Chapter One

Hux x fem!reader | 2.4k words

Content warnings: Mention of torture/interrogation, mention of childhood abuse

It was a mystery how you'd ended up in this exact spot you currently found yourself in. The sequence of events themselves were fairly straightforward. There'd been an unexpected skirmish between some First Order troopers and your band of Resistance fighters; you and your best friend Nat had jumped foolishly into the fray despite only just having started your combat training; the Order had unsurprisingly cornered the two of you... and then, in what she probably thought to be a brilliant move, your friend had convinced the troopers you wanted to defect and join the Order. Then there was a week of nasty interrogation to ensure your stories matched up and held true. Somehow you'd both been cleared, and now here you were, standing outside the office of who would be your supervisor aboard The Finalizer, waiting to be summoned in.

What had happened was clear enough. The mystery was understanding why it had all happened. How could there possibly be good in the galaxy when it had devised such a series of unfortunate events to set you down right here, in the thick of all you despised? How could you possibly hope to improve that galaxy from here, or at the least simply benefit your own life? There was a reason espionage and spies weren't used against the First Order - a reason you'd tried repeatedly to explain to your stubborn friend to no avail.

Damn her, you grumbled to yourself, though you knew you didn't fully mean it. Sure, she'd had the idea, but you'd gone along with it. You couldn't make her shoulder all of the blame.

A swooshing sound accompanied the sudden opening of the door in front of you. You stood at attention, coming face to face with a young officer in a smart-looking hat. He clutched a datapad in the crook of his arm as if he were keeping it there on a time-out.

He didn't seem to notice your presence until he had already stepped out of the room and made to follow the hallway to the right. He paused in a second of surprise, and then made a little scoffing noise.

"He's in quite a mood," he said and gave you a knowing look, though you weren't sure what you were supposed to know by it. "Good luck."

He swiftly stalked off, leaving the doorway in front of you open to the office beyond. Fluorescent lights glowed from the ceilings inside, giving you a chance to scope out what you were walking into. Most of the room was bare up here by the door; too bare, like there was supposed to be more furniture but it had disappeared somehow. The back half of the room was more naturally filled. A large bookcase stood tall and proud along the back wall, boasting of thick tomes and unique trinkets. To the side was a low counter with a few liquor bottles and mixers. There was also a small box of some kind in the corner, with a carpeted top and a hole in the side. You weren't sure what it was for.

And placed before all of it, directly in the center, just before the threshold you now found yourself crossing, as if dividing the room between emptiness and warmth, was a large desk made of dark wood and brass furnishings. A lone chair sat in front of it for guests, while the office's owner sat in his own chair on the other side.

Hunched in his chair, was more like it. The position almost could have obscured his identity from you as you tried to get your nerves under control. But alas, the ginger hair still gave him away.

You choked.

"What," he drawled with annoyance, not bothering to look up from the work that occupied him on his desk.

Hux. The General Hux. The face of the First Order and all its terrifying advancements. He was to be your supervisor? What a cruel joke the universe was playing on you.

You stood in shocked silence, which seemed to annoy him further as he huffed and finally looked up. Whatever reproach he was prepared to give vanished as he took in your appearance.

"Who are you?"

You swallowed hard under his gaze. Never in your life did you think you'd come face to face with this man, and now here you were, mere feet away, donning the uniform of his people and completely under his authority.

Oh you were going to kill your friend for this.

"I..." Your throat felt like it was constricting. Panic would soon overtake you if you didn't shake free of its grasp now. As you'd learned in your interrogation, it would not do to show any sign of weakness in this place, not even a bit of hesitancy. And you would need that strategy even more with General Hux watching you.

You cleared your throat quickly and straightened up further. "I believe I am to be your new assistant, sir. They sent me here to report for duty."

Hux regarded you for a moment and then leaned back in his chair with a quirked eyebrow. He didn't seem annoyed anymore, but there was a sort of sneering curiosity that took its place, and you weren't sure which you'd rather be dealing with in this moment.

"Ah, yes. Deserters from the Resistance. I was so surprised by the news, I had to see one of you for myself."

He paused to gauge your reaction, though you didn't have one. You were too preoccupied with keeping yourself standing upright in his presence.

"We don't get many rebels willing to join our ranks. Though when it does happen, it's always right at the moment they have a blaster to their heads. Curious, isn't it?"

You cleared your throat. "I suppose it is, sir."

"You will call me General," he said cooly.

"Yes, General," you obeyed promptly.

He studied you for a moment, no expression on his face to indicate anything he could be thinking. Surely he was suspicious of you; he'd be foolish not to be. And you suspected that's why you were to be his assistant. In case you were a spy of some sort. You'd be in proximity to a tempting amount of good intel, but wouldn't be able to do anything with it under the General's watchful gaze. He was clever one, you'd give him that.

Though what he was considering about you now was beyond you. Maybe he was changing his mind, saw the nerves you were so desperately trying to hide, deciding playing such a game with you wouldn't be worth the trouble.

"I expect an itinerary of the next day's events on my desk each evening by 8," he finally said. He quickly moved through his words as if he'd had to recite them numerous times, and you briefly wondered how many assistants this man had gone through before you finally realized you should probably be paying closer attention. "You will also maintain reports on the health of each department I oversee, filter any feedback or escalated concerns from the department heads, and share only the most important for my attention. You will accompany me to all non-confidential meetings and take down notes...."

He trailed off and sported a small smirk.

"Do you wish to take some down now?"

You quickly nodded, hating how he was already finding ways to subtly undercut your competency.

He opened a drawer and fished out a data pad, handing it over to you and gesturing to the opposite chair, all the while maintaining that smirk. You fiddled with the device and tried to quickly note down what he'd said so far. You could feel him watching you. Your fingers shook from the anxiety of it all.

When you finally looked up at him, his face was back into something more neutral.

"Ready?" he asked softly. You realized he was being patient, an incredible relief to your nerves, so you tried for a smile with your response.

"Yes, General."

He nodded and continued, speaking almost a mile an hour as if through a well-rehearsed speech, and you did your best to keep pace. Your notes were a jumbled mess of various times and tasks, preferences and expectations. You hoped you'd be able to make sense of them later. One missed detail, and you suspected you'd be booted off the ship faster than you could say dank farrick.

"And finally," he said at last, and you couldn't help but let out the breath you'd been holding the past ten minutes, "this may go without saying but I shall state it anyway so we are perfectly clear. You will not be allowed access to outside communications."

He leveled a hard look at you, one that spoke volumes louder than his words.

"I have also waived your right to any leaves of absence. Until you have gained my full and complete trust."

You nodded, suspecting as much.

"And in all transparency, there is not a single soul in this galaxy who has managed to earn my full and complete trust. Do I make myself clear?"

You nodded again, unable to keep his gaze. A part of you was sinking at the thought. You were trapped aboard this ship. No sky, no sea, no trees. Just sterile walls and shiny floors and an endless expanse of empty space behind a viewport. You could very well die here and never feel sand beneath your toes again.

General Hux stood, and you quickly rose to match.

"That said, it will be to our mutual benefit for you to take this position seriously. I run a very tight ship so I expect nothing less than professional excellence from you."

"Yes, sir. General. Sorry. Yes, General."

He gave an almost imperceptible sigh through your flustering. You certainly weren't inspiring any confidence in your ability to do this job, not when you kept remembering how dangerously thin a line you walked here. And though you didn't exactly want to be here, you'd be damned if you were ever thought of as less than good enough.

"You are dismissed." He waved a hand as he sat back down again, his attention already returned to the stack of papers he'd been pouring over before your arrival. You were more than grateful to finally be allowed out of this situation. The emotions you'd been bottling in needed to be let out. You wasted no time in turning on your heel and scurrying away.

"Oh, one more thing," he said just before you could open the door to your freedom. "You'll be given the rank of Second Lieutenant. It means nothing other than to ensure you have proper security clearance to accompany me when needed. You can pick up your badge and insignia at the security office."

This information, as well as all you'd noted down, weighed on you as you finally made it out the door. You walked down the hall in a daze, not knowing where you were going, entirely too fixated on this bizarre situation you found yourself in. You were a Second Lieutenant aboard a First Order ship, serving directly under General Hux, and banned from even so much as glimpsing a life outside of this one. You'd never be able to see your friends or family again. In fact, you'd be helping fight against them now. Whatever service you performed for the General would be in service to the war he waged against your people.

You paused in your wandering to lean against the nearest wall, grateful that whatever part of the ship you were in didn't have much foot traffic. The side of your head rested against the cool steel walls and your eyes closed in a fight against the tears that threatened to burst forth. You focused on your breathing. In and out. In and out. No thinking, no feeling. Just breathe.

You stayed like this an undeterminable amount of time before slowly reopening your eyes and coming back to the present moment. How long the calming effects of your meditation would last, who knew, but at least you were now numb enough to get back to the tasks at hand. You'd need to find the security office. And your room, or bunks, or wherever they intended to have you sleep around here. And perhaps most importantly, you'd need to find your friend.

If not to ensure she was alright, than at least to give her a piece of your mind.

* * *

Hux watched as discreetly as he could the disappearing form of the woman who was to be his new assistant. Even after the door slid shut behind her, his gaze still lingered on the spot she had last been.

He'd come to expect timidness from all who found themselves in his presence these days. His reputation had grown quickly and held fast, much to his relief. He still felt like he'd came into this position, this war even, much too quickly to have any real sense of confidence about it. Not that he'd let anyone see, of course, which was why he was grateful he at least had the skill of being able to put on a good show, to mask the insecurities he privately fought. Years of abuse and neglect were to thank for that.

But this woman, this rebel-turned-deserter, was throwing him off. She had been timid, yes, but had also shown all the other telltale signs of someone wanting his approval. Compliance, politeness, even a bit of pride. As if she had been raised in an old Imperial household and came here to work her way up the ladder of power with the rest of them, but still viewing him with a sort of fearful reverence.

It perplexed him. To what end was she here? An honest wish to change sides seemed unlikely, which only left the option of her being a spy. But that didn't fit the facts well, either. As a spy, she'd either be a good actor and show no signs of fear, or she'd be terrible at keeping on a game face and have no tact at all. She displayed both. He didn't know what to make of her.

He sighed, realizing he'd been endlessly ruminating again, and as a result could feel that familiar tension of an oncoming headache in his forehead. He shook himself, as if that would dispel the strain, and tried to focus back on his work.

He'd made her his assistant for a reason, to keep an eye on her, and to an extent her friend. He'd figure out their intentions soon enough, he'd just need to interact with her more.

~ ~ ~

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winniethewife · 9 days ago

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Jewels made of stardust

(Poe Dameron x OC! Rhoswen Jewelace.)

Chapter 16: Chasing a moment, I'm hoping is coming

Last Chapter ~ Next Chapter

Words: 1001

When Rhoswen decided to return to work there was a change in the atmosphere, the moral of the resistance fighters rose with her presence. She brought hope in her wake, the idea that she could have survived as much as she did then turn around and rejoin the cause was inspirational. Leia recognized this, she remembered what it was like to lead the rebellion, the early days of showing up as the princess of Alderaan, daughter of Bail Organa. She had seen how it would play out, even throughout her years in the senate, the glitter and glamour of a war hero. It seemed like it was time, her daughter was more than ready to lead, and the people were ready to follow her. So she called a meeting, The remaining members of the resistance gathered. Rhoswen stood next to Poe, his arm around her waist protectively, Finn, Rose and Rey stood near them, curious as to what this meeting could possibly be about. Leia stood in front of the small gathering, a soft smile gracing her face.

“Friends…this has been a difficult time for all of us. Our efforts to make strides against the first order have been continuously thwarted by unpredicted forces, but we can’t lose hope.” Whenever Leia spoke the crowd would go silent, she had the ability to silence anyone with her words. “I think you can all agree when I say that someone in particular has helped bring back some of the hope we lost. Captain Jewelace would you please step forward.” Leia gestures to a very surprised looking Rhoswen. As she walked to the front of the group she felt the eyes of every person there on her, watching as she approached her mother.

“Yes…General?” Rhoswen asked with an eyebrow rasied. Her mother looked at her with a smile, suddenly reminded by another cocky pilot who used her title with an unspoken meaning. Leia chuckled.

“Rhoswen Jewelace, you have performed extraordinarily in the field and have proven yourself to be an asset to the resistance. My Daughter it is time for you to lead. I’m promoting you to Commander, you’ve earned it.” Leia said this all with the authority of a general, but the warmth of a mother, A talent most were sure only Leia wielded. As the crowd cheered in approval Rhoswen could only look at her mother in shock.

“Me? Are you sure you’re promoting the right pilot General?” She said with a laugh. Leia looked at her with a smile.

“You remind me so much of your father, but you also are so much like me, you are entirely capable of this. Would I do this if I didn’t think you were ready?” Leia asked with that look in her eye, the one that meant you shouldn’t argue with her. Rhoswen simply smiled and straightened up to salute her mother.

“Of course not…general. I would never doubt you.” Rhoswen’s eyes glimmered with pride and admiration.

“You’re all dismissed.” Leia announced with a smile, and watched as her daughters friends crowded around her excitedly, with one surprising exception. Poe stood back, watching the celebration, He knew he would have his time with her later, for now, he watched, gently playing with the metal band around his neck. This was it, this was the moment he had been waiting for.

That evening Poe managed to get Rhoswen to himself for a while, after another day of sending transmissions in hopes to find help and organizing what little supplies they had for their next mission. Poe had her hand wrapped in his as he guides her to their spot in the woods, where they had now shared many a time alone. They sat in the clearing looking up at the stars, enjoying the quiet, something there was so little of in their lives these days, their fingers interwoven together in the grass. Poe was waiting for the perfect moment, but it didn’t seem to come, this moment with the two of them was possibly as perfect as it could be, but it wasn’t perfect enough.

“You’re thinking so loud I can hear it.” Rhoswen said gently as she continued to look up at the night sky. He looked at her surprised and chuckled.

“Yeah…Well. I have something I want to ask, but I don’t know when the perfect moment is.” He spoke carefully. His thumb running over her knuckles.

“Theres no such thing as a perfect moment, not these days. You never know what will happen next, when the quiet will be interrupted, who you’ll lose next…” Her voice was low and full of thoughtful introspection, and a sadness only they understood. Poe squeezed her hand, She was right, as she often was. This was it, this was the moment.

“You’re right. There are no perfect moments, not in this life. But…you make me feel like there’s a perfect…Something out there. Something I can look forward to, something to believe in. I never want to lose that.” Poe’s nervousness started to fade as he spoke, realizing this was everything he wanted. He let go of her hand and reached for the chain around his neck, not bothering to unclasp it, he just pulled snapping the chain apart, leaving his mother’s ring in the palm of his hand. Rhoswen looked with eyes wide and her jaw slack in shock, she knew what was happening. She knew what this meant to him, and she hadn’t expected it. Not now. Maybe not ever. But here he was offering her his most treasured possession in exchange for forever. “Look I know this isn’t the time, that we will have to wait until the fight is over, but I don’t want to wait any longer… I need to know.”

“Poe…” She whispered his name.

“What do you say Red? Will you marry me?” He asked with that shine in his eyes that she adored. It took her a second to find the words, she nodded.

“Yes…Yes I’ll marry you.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @femmeanonymelives @silvernight-m @reallyrallyauthor @queerponcho @boredzillenial

#star wars #poe dameron #poe dameron x oc #Solo oc #starwars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #star wars sequel trilogy #star wars fan fiction #Rhoswen Jewelace #Rhoswen #oscar isaac fic #Spotify #poevember

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allthedoorsareopennow · 1 year ago

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Hereward The Wake and the story behind it!!

more research has occurred

so, background info:

- Hereward the Wake (also known as Hereward the Outlaw or Hereward the Exiled) was probably a real person, a landowning noble who (according to Gesta Herewardia) was exiled by the king (Edward the Confessor) at 18, then later led a local resistance to the invading Norman forces

- there are several accounts of Hereward’s life and story, many of which have fantastical elements suggesting that at least some parts are unreliable and inaccurate

- the most detailed account of Hereward’s life is Gesta Herewardia

- there was also a fictional 1886 book written about him, which was what is believed to have raised him to his current romantic, legendary status

- there was a bbc show about him in the 70s, which the bbc destroyed after broadcasting, so it is now lost media

lyrics

‘A child he of noble stock’ stories say he was a noble and there is evidence of a man called Hereward owning land in around that place at around that time

‘Held up a holy man who chose to flash his wealth around’ it appears he held land from abbeys and parishes, which could link to the ‘holy’ bit

‘But for his crime was exiled, sent out into the wild’ according to Gesta Herewardia, he was exiled for disobedience to his father and disruptive behaviour

‘Along his way he came across a princess duty bound/And saved her from betrothal to the master of the hounds’ Gesta Herewardia claims that in the intervening years after his exile, Hereward rescues a Cornish princess from an unwanted marriage. due to this part’s fantastical nature, it is believed this did not happen.

‘She asked that he would stay a while and she would be his bride’ I cannot find accounts of this, in most versions Hereward marries Turfida, a separate woman, who fell in love with him after hearing about his exploits

‘But he loved his servant Martin, so they left her far behind’ most accounts do mention that Hereward has a dedicated servant called Martin Lightfoot, though I can find little more about him

‘On every station, men and dogs, they rallied to his band/They joined him on an asteroid, where they could make their stand’ this probably refers to Hereward and others gathering in the Isle of Ely to fight back against the Normans

the tyrant likely refers to William the Conqueror

‘Until at last a holy man betrayed the safe way down’ the Normans bribed local monks, who told them a safe way across the marsh, allowing the Normans to capture Ely

‘They say that Hereward escaped, for his corpse was never found’ Hereward and some of his followers supposedly escaped into the wild fenlands and continued their resistance against the Normans. this escape is mentioned in all the earliest sources

‘Also he fought a bear’ this refers to an earlier part of a story, after his exile but before the battle at Ely, in which some accounts claim he fought an enormous bear. this is believed to be false.

I haven’t really talked about the chorus because it mostly details how Hereward is scary and a good fighter

I hope this was interesting :)

#some phrases are lifted straight from wikipedia. sorry not sorry #hereward the wake #ttbt2 #original post #the mechanisms #the mechs #mechanisms #if I got something wrong. what ever close enough probably #doors researches

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ezrisdax-archive · 1 year ago

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Beauty and the Borg – A B7 Shipper’s Manifesto

So. We’ve come here in my life where I just need to talk about ships I love and everyone has to see this. Only not but whatever. I’m gonna try to break this down old school in how I remember shippers manifestos in livejournal days, complete with images. And thus to begin:

What is Star Trek: Voyager?

Unless you live under a rock you’ve probably just heard of Star Trek, maybe not watched it but heard of it. Starting in 1966 the Original Series was released, ran for three years, was canceled due to an infamous error in Neilson ratings and established the franchise. There was an animated series people often forget about, six movies for the Original series, and then in 1987 they brought it back as a live action show called Star Trek: The Next Generation. It did so well and engrained itself in the conscious of many people that they often refer to it as the best Trek but believe me that’s a debate on it’s own. And thus had it’s own spin off, Deep Space Nine in 1993. While not as popular as TNG it’s grouped into what people call the 90s Trek. With the last one being the last spin off in 1995: Star Trek: Voyager.

Where DS9 introduced the first black captain (though it took three years for him to get that promotion, boo), VOY introduced the first female captain lead of a Star Trek series. The premise of the show was that on a hunt for some resistance fighters both ships are pulled through the Alpha Quadrant to the Delta Quadrant. Approximately seventy-thousand light years from home. Due to the choice made by the captain, Kathryn Janeway, they are then stranded there and the crews of the ships band together on Voyager to make their way back to the Alpha Quadrant and get home.

That’s an extreme simplification but basically Lost in Space for Star Trek.

And that leads us to the characters of this essay:

B’Elanna Torres - The Engineer Who Built This Society

A half-human, half-klingon Maquis born to John Torres (human) and Miral (Klingon). She and her mother were the only Klingons on the colony where they lived and as such B’Elanna was teased and made fun of at school. Her father eventually couldn’t take being married to a Klingon and left her and her mother, an incident which left B’Elanna worrying was her fault being half Klingon.. She was then raised on the Klingon homeworld until she left to join Starfleet Academy…

And quit it.

Basically she couldn’t find herself fitting in yet again and left to once again find her place which brought her to the Maquis.

The Maquis were a group of resistance fighters, depending who you ask of course, that fought for the freedom of species, mostly Bajor, from Cardassian rule. They were considered to be a threat by the Federation and hunted down by both Cardassians and the Federation. B’Elanna was only in the group roughly for a year before the incident that stranded them in the Delta Quadrant occurred. She did think of that group as her family though and felt both indebted to them and loved them.

While on Voyager she became Chief Engineer and was damn fucking good at it but let’s get into the heart of her character here. B’Elanna suffers from depression over the course of the series and self doubt when it comes to herself while not at the job. She pushes people away while simultaneously hoping they’ll stay anyway.

She pushes herself to her limits, trying to see if she’s enough and never really finding that answer. She also struggles with a connection to both her parents and her cultures; coming more to terms with the Klingon culture as time goes on and also striking up conversation with her father again. She’s also a big romantic who reads romance novels.

Tragically that kicks off her romance with Tom Paris and they eventually get married and have a kid together and even then B’Elanna worries for her child who will still look Klingon. She doesn’t want her kid to have to go through what she did and suffer for it. In the end she chooses to accept her child will look like her as a Klingon but it’s clear the thought will linger on for her regardless.

She’s blunt and sarcastic and brash, takes no shit, and loves her friends very very deeply.

Seven of Nine - What I Want is to be Useful

Seven of Nine didn’t come in until season 4 of Voyager. Basically here because of sexism and the writers wanting that sweet sweet sex appeal. She was a human, once called Annika Hansen born to Magnus and Erin Hansen. Her parents were scientists who were studying the Borg and took their daughter along with them for…reasons. Look it wasn’t very smart.

Lo and behold the Borg caught on to the fact they were being watched and assimilated Seven and her family. At the time she was only six and thus spent most of her life in a borg cube, as such she has a…unique take on cultures.

She ended up on Voyager because Voyager made a deal with the Borg to get through their area of space. Then Janeway cut her connection to the Borg and Seven was left floundering and suddenly alone. The Borg are a hive mind type species and she’d had that for over twenty years of her life. The shock left her reeling though she’d hardly admit it.

Seven is a complicated character in a lot of aspects, the series generally tries to explore her gaining her independence and learning about herself and where she fits in. It’s not perfect and often clumsily written, especially when it comes to the Doctor teaching her. They do push a lot of gender ideas as well which haven’t aged well. And leave her in those terrible catsuits. She also, due to her stubbornness, butts heads with a lot of the characters as she’s trying to figure this out.

(Seven also shows up later in the Picard series but I am only talking about her as she pertains to Voyager in this essay.)

Unlike B’Elanna she’s not really a romantic though the show does give her romance options including setting her up with Chakotay right at the end for…also reasons. And where B’Elanna only takes the mother position towards the end of the show Seven actually has a character who is like her son, another ex-Borg named Icheb introduced in season 6. As well as looking after Naomi Wildman (first baby on Voyager, we all love her) who she admits is family.

For all the imperfect writing they have about her I��ll give them that.

Seven is logical and cold, sure in her abilities and has a drive for perfection.

A Collective of Two - B7

To say these two don’t get along at first is an understatement. B’Elanna is mistrusting of Seven and Seven looks down on B’Elanna. They both see each other as stubborn and rude and want the other out of the way while they work (See Scientific Measure in which they argue in a Jefferies Tube and Message in a Bottle where B’Elanna does a full call out on Seven). At one point (Day of Honor) B’Elanna even asks Seven if she regrets everything she did as Borg, assimilating other cultures, and Seven says no. Granted if she asked that again to season seven Seven (har har) the answer would be far more complicated.

Seven comes to value her independence and individuality across the series. She comes to see the Voyager crew as her collective. In one episode (called One, I’m on a roll here, let me have this.) Seven is left alone while the rest of the crew is in stasis. The EMH is around but even he gets disrupted and Seven is by herself on the ship with only her hallucinations and herself to talk to. It’s the end of the episode that stands out here.

In the beginning of the episode she approaches B’Elanna and Harry and well, annoys them. She doesn’t see an issue with this and is not here for friendship. The end of the episode she approaches them again, and I guess Tom is there too, whatever, and asks to sit with them. When they say yes she sits down next to B’Elanna and admits she felt the need for companionship. It’s a huge step with Seven seeking others out.

On the other side is B’Elanna the episode right before that, Demon. She isn’t allowed to go down to a planet to look for her friends because Chakotay is worried she isn’t a ‘cool head’ that’s needed for this assignment. After a bit of a fight it’s then that B’Elanna requests Seven go then in her place, after all “Nobody’s head is cooler than hers”. An insult and a compliment in one, B’Elanna and Seven’s relationship in a nutshell. But the point here is that B’Elanna has come to trust Seven. Towards the end of season four there’s a measure of respect between them and acknowledgement of each other’s skills.

(Also see Message in a Bottle, when B’Elanna first approves of a plan Seven sets forth. And waits till no one is in the room to see her do it.)

Which brings us to the end of season four. Voyager has potentially found a way home (spoiler alert: there’s three more seasons. They have not.) and at one point B’Elanna and Seven are working together on the other ship which prompts a conversation about Earth. Seven during the conversation points out that B’Elanna seems eager to return, which B’Elanna denies. Then as Seven says it “You were a member of the Maquis. Starfleet Command will no doubt hold you responsible for a multitude of crimes. You will find nothing on Earth but adversity.” And we get the following scene:

Of course then B’Elanna plays it off as a joke later but the line still stands out to me. It truly does show how the two of them view themselves. B’Elanna isn’t accepted because she’s half-Klingon or because she’s a Maquis. Seven isn’t accepted because she’s ex-Borg or, in the words of B’Elanna, she’s rude. While they’ve carved out an area of acceptance on Voyager that doesn’t mean it extends beyond that.

Earth is an unknown for the both of them at this time. They’re more alike and are starting to see that even if they won’t admit it. Yet.

Of course, they’re also still not about to admit it in season five.

Season five has a…bad episode in it called Infinite Regress that regrettably I have to talk about. In it Seven is taking on other personalities from people who she assimilated over the years. At one point she takes on a male Klingon and, well. Tries to mate with B’Elanna which includes biting her on her cheek. The only saving factor of that episode is that it starts the Seven and Naomi friendship and also this line:

That’s it.

Honestly season five isn’t the best for B7 stuff, there’s a few scenes like in Extreme Risk when B’Elanna is going through some major depression and Seven comes to her to discuss a project or even in the Course: Oblivion episode though sadly that’s not actually them but clone selves. And I say that with an absolute straight face even as a snicker about it. Turns out you can forget you’re a clone but can’t forget you’ve got chemistry with each other.

Sure girl. Tell her that after she just got married, just say you wanna open her relationship to include you already.

There is however one fun and stand out scene towards the end of season five, see it turns out Seven has been stalking B’Elanna (and Tom) to study mating rituals. Honestly, worst choice there, Seven. Needless to say, B’Elanna notices and doesn’t take this “study” well.

It’s nice to see not all the antagonism is gone. But they still have time to reach an understanding! Sorta. Also that episode is Someone to Watch Over Me. Don’t watch it, that’s the only good scene.

I gotta add one scene however from Relativity even if B’Elanna isn’t in the scene herself. Tom approaches Seven to team up for a ping pong match and of course Seven isn’t interested. Until B’Elanna is brought up.

Like Seven. Babe just say you wanna impress B’Elanna.

And thus we go to season six.

Okay I’ll be honest, this season doesn’t have a lot for them either. Season four and seven are standouts in their interactions imo. And since this is my essay it’s all my opinion. I blame the het ships they were both forced in.

But in Survival Instinct they do get a nice scene together. In the episode Seven is suffering having come into contact with her old unimatrix and remembering something she did. She can’t fully piece it all together and it’s shaken her up. At one point B’Elanna tries to comfort her while they’re going over data and Seven snaps back that she has no feelings about the past. And then clearly regrets it, something season four Seven absolutely wouldn’t care about.

It’s a show of how far they’ve both come. B’Elanna offering comfort to Seven and Seven acknowledging that her words hurt B’Elanna. It’s a small subtle scene that makes me really happy.

There’s a few other scenes here and there too, in The Voyager Conspiracy Seven once comms B’Elanna right as she wakes up and I just find that funny. Like sure, don’t wait till you’re on shift. A moment in Tsunkatse where B’Elanna jokes about Borgs and fun to Seven. And then in Fury when Kes gets to engineering there’s a blink and you’ll miss it scene where B’Elanna reaches back to pass Seven a phaser and they’re both just very in sync in the scene. And then B’Elanna dies and Seven sees it :( at least it’s all undone in the end. She’s fine. Death in Star Trek: Voyager is a punch card honestly; punch it ten times and get a free replacement from another reality. (Sorry Harry)

That ties up that season in a tragically low point for them but that’s okay because it’s season seven.

Season seven was the last one Voyager had. B’Elanna marries Tom and gets pregnant, Seven gets into a bit of a rushed relationship with Chakotay right at the end. Voyager finally gets home but these two are gay between them and the joke’s on the Voyager writers. Unlike them I can pretend Tom/B’Elanna never happened at all.

Right at the start is the episode Imperfection where a Borg implant Seven has is failing and she must face the fact she might die. In response she chooses to work, as she says “What I want is to be useful.” And for that she chooses not to go to her usual post in Astrometrics but to hide out in Engineering. So I could infer that Engineering, and thus B’Elanna who is in charge of it, is a safe space for her. That’s made even more clear when B’Elanna finds her and they have a talk about life and legacy.

It’s an incredibly soft and meaningful scene, where B’Elanna expresses that Seven has made an impact on everyone (herself quietly included). It’s interrupted by the Doctor finding them but that leads to B’Elanna coming to Seven’s defense and saying she can stay in Engineering. B’Elanna will keep an eye on her.

Unlike at the end of season four where B’Elanna lumps them together as outcasts and then jokes about it, this time she is completely serious. She has Seven’s back, they are “[the] difficult patients” who are in this together after all. Sadly that’s the last they interact this episode however brief it was it really goes to show how they’ve come together as a unit and a friendship.

There’s a few more scattered moments in season seven episodes, in Drive Seven is the one who convinces B’Elanna to accept Tom’s hobbies. Like she needs to. Look I’m not bitter (lies). In Lineage when B’Elanna finds out she’s pregnant and stumbles Seven is the one to reach out to steady her and deliver that news to her. It’s almost funny that Icheb is also there and once had a crush on B’Elanna, like wrong ex-Borg Voyager writers.

This does lead us to Human Error though, which has quite a few more moments with them but also sadly the last time they really interact.

In the episode Seven has been taking advantage of the holodeck to imagine different moments, including herself without Borg implants. One of the moments is B’Elanna’s baby shower though they don’t interact there. Instead Seven misses the real baby shower and awkwardly arrives at engineering with a belated gift for B’Elanna.

It’s cute, Seven’s really trying to connect here. And then keeps trying to connect.

Girl…I don’t have time (okay I do) to explain how gay this is. Seven could have chosen anyone on the ship and choses to try to connect with B’Elanna here. Including noting her appearance and asking about it. Of course the funniest thing is B’Elanna’s side eye after the fact.

Of course the scene is meant to be humorous, look how Seven once again struggles to connect to people but I chose to take it at face value here. Every other time it’s been B’Elanna reaching out to connect with Seven and this time it’s Seven reaching out to connect with her. They’re both trying in their own weird way.

The episode ends without further interaction but there is one moment at the end:

Like the Tom moment above I just think it’s funny that people are out here like ‘no Seven you should come. B’Elanna is there :)’

And that’s it. That’s the B7 in canon moments broken down. So let’s talk more about them because I can’t shut up.

Okay so like…why?

For the past oh…seven years I’ve been talking about B7 on my blog probably too much. I just think they’re neat! But now comes the time to explain that and I’m not the best at words but I’ll try.

For me it’s about the mirror they are to each other. Both are characters struggling with identity and where they fit in in a world that doesn’t want to fit them in. They’re extremely capable and smart but flawed. Whether the show writers realized it or not they made these two characters so similar and set up exploration of that and then just…never delivered.

I want the exploration there, I want to dive into what it means to see someone as a reflection of yourself but then acknowledge the good parts they have like when B’Elanna encourages Seven about her legacy and what an impact she has. Does she know that she has that same legacy? Does she even know she has those same doubts?

For two characters who are vastly different in personality there’s just so much they share and can share. They’re both disillusioned with Starfleet and people and yet trying. They’re put into boxes by society and just can’t fit. They’re done bad by the writers in pretty fucking horrible effect.

There’s a trilogy of books called Voyager String Theory, really only the first two are important in the context of B7 though. In the first book they crash land on a planet and at one point Seven has to give B’Elanna some borg nanoprobes to help her heal.

“We would be the collective- a collective of two.” Seven tells her. That alone struck me as how the two of them could be. Outcasts together. Difficult Patients. A Collective of Two.

(Also that book has a lot more gay points in it, please read it:

Like, c’mon.)

It shows the potential of them and while Picard really killed, hm, a lot of things, I always wanted to imagine a future where they got back to Earth and were that Collective. Dealing with this new area together. Oh sure they’d get on each other’s nerves, part of the fun for me is that I don’t think they’d ever really lose that antagonism, but after everything they’ve been through you can see how they’ve come to respect and count on each other.

TL;DR…90s trek writers accidentally made it gay again.

Supplemental

I’ll be honest, I have a tendency not to read fics of pairing I myself write because I’m terrified I might subconsciously take something from another writer without even realizing it in that same area of fanfic. So instead I’ll rely on two others fic rec lists:

https://trillscienceofficer.tumblr.com/post/706359122066636800/trillscienceofficers-belannaseven-fic-rec-list

https://punkbxt.tumblr.com/post/622585834575626240/b7-fics-that-i-read-over-and-over-again-without

I am in fact on there twice (favourites and you’ve got my number are mine) sooo feel free to ignore those if you’ve had enough of my writing at this point.

For other things I’d suggest punkbxt on tumblr for their amazing b7 art and comics. Again please read Voyager: String Theory at least the first book. It is gay.

There are also far far better people at putting things into words then me on good old hellsite dot com so honestly just go through the b7 tag. I wouldn’t recommend the character tags themselves though. Trust me.

If you made it this far then thank you for reading and I hope I could nudge you a little bit in the B7 direction (and thanks to @trillscienceofficer for all the help on this). Live fast and prosper~

#b'elanna torres #seven of nine #b7 #beej talks star trek #like a whole fucking lot #trek femslash #I'm not even joking I stayed up till 2am working on this

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