#and i think another thing to take into account is that i believe Sam wrote the finale
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jimbodyson · 20 days ago
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I went into these finale episodes thinking that I'd be so disappointed if they didn't do the Bard's Lament... but I'm not. Scanlan's story is so personal to me because I relate to him a lot. He feels very insecure, like his friends hate him and I feel that a lot, it's why he's my favourite.
I know we all love the Bard's Lament because it's amazing roleplay and a build up of finely hinted at small character details within the RP, but speaking as a person... If Scanlan feels the way he said, lashing out at his friends isn't how he deals with it. That's not a healthy thing to do, and isn't really fair on his friends either.
Scanlan feels similarly to how he does in the campaign. He says that now he finally feels like he matters (with Kaylie), and he says he likes himself better with her. This is what Campaign Scanlan felt as well, the difference is now he's not angry, humiliated in front of his daughter because he's covered in pudding, or only just came back from being dead. In other words, this is essentially just the Bard's Lament if he handled it healthily, and I love that. He's telling them how he feels without accusing them of hating him-- which is the better way of dealing with it.
On another note, I still feel like I can write this One-Shot about Scanlan, Kaylie and Marion. I'll just have to tweak a few things to line up, because ultimately, those feelings of insecurity aren't just going to go away now. Part of him feels like they hate him, but another part of him knows that they love him.
And, obviously, if you're disappointed then that's valid. But I don't think that this is objectively bad or anything. It's just different and that's okay.
And you know what the best part is? This might not even be the proper adaptation for it! Given that a season 4 has been greenlit, and in my opinion it's still clear that Scanlan has some insecurities regarding his friends, they could still pull it off at some point!
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sgiandubh · 2 months ago
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Dear (returning) Considering Anon,
You wrote this and you have been blocked. Again. Fair enough, make as many clones as you wish: I shall not answer anymore.
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You took a hefty chunk of your time only to write this and be read on a very early morning start between urinating and brushing my teeth. I should applaud your dedication, but I won't.
If you wish to insinuate I hacked into their account, you are, once more, laughably wrong:
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As I said, someone from your own camp inadvertently pointed the way:
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Not an approximate payroll - a budget estimate. Two different things, as Claire was not cast at the time. Simple basis for further negotiations and in no way the final figures. Series' renewal was announced on August 15, 2014, 1 (one!) day after the broadcast of the first episode. Any negotiated raise was, therefore, involving both of them and their agents - we also know they 'had each other's back' since very early on - no need for me to further develop, you know exactly what I mean:
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That email was either hacked, or 'erroneous': the twain shall never meet, like Kipling's East and West. Too subtle for you? The appropriate term is 'vague': a vague enough 'we', for me not to base my reasoning on it alone.
Diana Gabaldon 'Erself confirmed the fact that there was not much to do, other than going on with the shooting of Season 1 and certainly no time for any exterior relationships. But hey, why bother, the Screeching Banshees know best, right, since they are happily 'adulting' in their corner (the nerve!).
You guys are always grasping at that paper the way people usually grasp at straws, with zero critical approach towards the many legitimate questions that 'marriage' leaves perfectly unanswered. If all marriage papers in the universe reflected deep love and commitment, we'd probably be living in a perfect, ideal and (between you and me) very boring world. In this case, the mismatch is obvious, a shitload of details do not click, the Happy Couple systematically looks as if pushed to the gallows with bayonets, rather than being a part of glam events, that house still looks, as we speak, emptier than Mrs. Havisham's living room and the commonly 'owned' businesses are, likewise, empty shells (spare one of them and for a very precise reason). And that is just scratching the surface of the itch, darling. Your inability to question whatever you are so opportunistically fed tells me more than you'd certainly want about yourself, that being said.
You are correct, shooting ended yesterday. Perhaps it's time for you to move on and find another obsessive fandom to pounce upon: after all, there are so many interesting series out there! After almost one year and a half in here, I am still amazed at your intolerance and your very credulous conviction that you are somehow doing God's work, every single day, harassing people who dare to think differently, simply because they know differently. And no, unlike you, I am not basing my very firm stance just on the interactions I see between them during promo, two historical trolls ridiculous lies or the social media findings of another obsessed troll.
The comparison between SC pics and Sam/Greedy Driver ones is simply grotesque. Dropping names as Lily (who?) won't make me believe you are one of the insiders, either.
On top of it all, thank you for the wonderful final idiocy:
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Romanian for bustard is 'dropie'. I remember watching them roam near my grandparents' home, many moons ago and can absolutely confirm they do run fast.
You should take heed, Anon. My question for you will always be why. Why are you doing this and exactly what do you hope to achieve?
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itsohh · 8 months ago
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Flying Too Close to the Sun
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AN: Female reader, I wrote this before the comic came out but made some adjustments for it to kinda fit.
Summary: After leaving Rainbow years prior, Sam brings you back to help with the Deimos situation. As as warden your there to make sure he stays contained but things end up far messier than you exspect when he takes an intrest in you.
Word count: 6746
Warnings: Dubcon, noncon bondage, smut
Masterlist AO3
Greece 2020 
“All I ask is that you give it a go-” 
“No!” You threw our hands up into the air. Sam's eyes remained on you as he watched from the corner of the room. His arms were folded and he leaned against the wall. Your relationship with the man was rather new and fresh. Sam had only known you for a short while whereas Harry had known you since you arrived at Rainbow years prior. 
Harry's face seemed rather controlled but there was a certain edge to his voice. He was aware that one wrong move could affect everything. Usually, you were so open-minded, he had expected this resilience from someone like Taina but not you. 
“This is too much Harry. Our job was never made for an audience, to be blasted over huge screens. It wasn't made for civilians to see. How many thousands would know us?” You pointed out the window to the rest of the stadium. “Our enemies get a perfect view into our skills, our weaknesses, our numbers, our faces- everything.”
“I assure you, all of that has been accounted for. Every person that comes through those gates will have been background checked but if it would make you more comfortable perhaps we could change your uniform and name.”
“No. I've made my mind up here. I think it's time that I head home. Rainbow’s been a great place for me and I've learnt a lot but I think it's better that I put this information to good use back home.” You pulled some paper from inside your jacket and placed it on the table. 
It was now clear that you had made your mind up before speaking to Harry. 
“I understand.” Harry nodded and took the paper from you. 
“If you ever need me in the future for something proper, don't hesitate to call.” You looked towards Sam for a moment. “But something tells me you shouldn't need to. You have quite the team here.”
-
 England 2024
The umbrella above you protected you from the sun's harsh rays. In front of you was a glass of juice and a bowl of hot chips. Your sunglasses helped with the sun and you didn't look up when someone sat down from across you. 
Sam Fisher. 
“Long time no see.” You pushed the chips towards him and he promptly took one. “Heard about Harry, my condolences.”
“Yeah, thanks. Saw you're doing well.”
“Well for this kind of work but I assume you didn't call me all this way just for small talk.”
Sam placed a folder on the table and slid it over to you. You wiped the salt from your fingers and picked it up. 
“Gerald Morris…” You muttered the name under your breath, only loud enough for Sam to barely hear. 
Your eyes absorbed all the information in front of you as you leaned back on your chair. All the meanwhile Sam dug into the food. 
“So you got him, sounds like it took a lot but you did. Why call me?” You slapped the folder shut and placed it back on the table. 
“Aside from our newer operators, you're more detached from the situation. I imagine he knows less about you than anyone else.” Sam leaned back and your brows narrowed.
“I'm your wildcard?”
“So to speak. Harry always knew you would have your part to play one day and I believe it's this.”
“And what is this Sam?” 
“...Rainbow is split about his presence. There's a very real possibility that someone may take justice into their own hands which is exactly what he wants.” He let out a sigh and rubbed his face. 
“I want to assign him to your care.”
“My care? I'm not going to be babysitting a terrorist.” Your eyes cast down for a second. “Besides, he could easily overpower me.”
“Not like that.” He placed another folder on the table that you took. 
“Azami. She joined after you left-”
“-Private sector? I didn’t realize you guys were hiring mercs…” You muttered, your disapproval obvious. 
“Rainbow's purpose has changed over the years. When did you join?” It was an answer Sam already knew but you answered him regardless. 
“2018. Amelia brought me along due to my marksmanship experience in urban settings.”
“Integral skills to have when the outbreak claimed more territory. Skills you shared with the rest of the team and in turn, they shared their skills with you. The same can go with cases like Azami in the private sector. She has her own unique experience.”
“Alright alright, I get it. Why do you bring her up then?”
“She's one of the people we are concerned about. She's been going to the holding facility more and more.”
“You're worried she will kill him in custody?”
“Her and several other operatives. I don't think they will but I can't discredit the possibility. I want you to make sure that never happens. Gustave feels the same.”
“What makes you think I won't just kill him? I mean I wasn't super close to Harry but he was still a friend.” 
He tossed a chip in his mouth and sat there for a moment. “You won't.”
-
Rainbow had changed a lot since you left which meant you received a completely different dorm room than you used to have. Not that it really mattered, you had taken everything personal with you. The new room you received was one of the ones in the holding facility. It wasn't a dorm room but its own special room. You had one job and that was clear. In a way, you were like a warden to Gerald and Gerald only. 
You had to admit, the room was rather secure. It was a safe room in a sense. Sure you didn't have the best views or anything but that hardly mattered when you were so close to a man that would most definitely kill you at any opportunity.
In all honesty, you didn't bring much with you. While you knew that Sam might need your help for a while you figured eventually you leave again and it was best not to get too attached. A knock at the door had you stand up from the bed. 
You opened it to find Sam standing there with clothes in his hands. They were neatly folded and had a couple of things balanced on top. 
“What's this?” You asked. 
He placed the pile on your desk. “New ID.” He waved it and snapped it on the table. 
“Uniform.” 
You looked towards the Ghosteyes uniform and cocked a brow. 
“Thought I was just going on guard duty.”
“Need an excuse to be here officially, wear it or don't at least have the ID with you. “
You took the ID and clipped it to your current shirt. It was a slightly faded black shirt with NZSAS printed across. The shirt didn't have any pockets so you clipped it to your slightly stretched collar. 
Sam carried a sort of understanding look with you. The pair of you hadn't known each other very long before you left Rainbow but there was a sort of mutual understanding that was shared. Trust. Why he trusted you was beyond your understanding, perhaps it was something that Harry said to him before he died. 
“This here is your pager.” 
“Pager?”
“No one's to go into Deimos’s holding without you there to supervise. That includes team leaders. Your job is to make sure that Deimos is there and alive.” 
“Alright.”
“All the team leaders know your back but not everyone else does.” 
Just as you were about to reply the pager started to beep and Sam tilted his head to the side for a second. 
“Better get moving then.”
-
Sam briefed you on how interrogations were still ongoing even if they admittedly didn't get very far. The room that Deimos was restricted to was rather large but rather empty. It was by no means a great place to stay but it wasn't inhumane. “Eliza, long time no see.” 
“Icarus.” She didn't quite smile but there was a level of familiarity that the pair of you shared. “I'm glad that out of everyone Sam brought you back.”
“Well, when he begged me how could I say no?” You walked up to the door and flashed your ID against the reader and the door opened with a click.
“Interrogation?”
“Yeah, doing it here.”
You opened the door for her and nodded. “Be my guest. The door closed behind you and you leaned against it. Eliza was the one to approach the man who was lying on his bed. Through the glass, you could see everything. His legs were leisurely up and he had a book in his hand. By the sight of it, it seemed he only had one book and had most definitely read it a few times already. 
He wasn't quick to talk to Eliza but there was a pause in his movement when his face turned towards you. 
“Well, now there's a face I didn't expect to see. Here I thought you were the one person who had managed to escape Rainbow.” He scoffed and sat up. “Just another one of Harry's puppets then.” 
“I get why Sam brought me on board.” You muttered to Eliza.
“Sam bring you on board? And why is that sweetheart?” 
“To make sure I don't kill you.” Eliza loomed over the man but he just let out a laugh. 
“Can't trust your own people? Can't say I blame him.” 
-
So became the rhythm of your babysitting job. It didn't end up being too bad, as Deimos was often let out of his cage for training. A weird thing but it seemed to get a few results even if it was at the cost of morale. 
Then it happened. The alarm. A blaring alarm that rang halfway through the night. You bolted awake and grabbed what you deemed necessary. Your ID and your guns. Your usual Barrett on your shoulder and a revolver on your side. The cold concrete floor did little to hinder your speed as you made your way towards Deimos’s room. 
To your relief when you arrived he was still there, the same way he always was. On that damn bed. You clicked the door open and grabbed a pair of cuffs from outside of his room. “On your knees Gerald.”
“First name basis are we?” He scoffed and turned to you. Not one for his games, you aimed the gun at his leg. 
“I was told to keep you alive- not in healthy shape. Now be a good boy and follow instructions.” 
“You’re playing with fire girl.” He finally swung his legs over the side of the bed. 
“Hands behind your back.” He followed your instructions and you were quick to cuff him. 
“Going somewhere?” He asked. 
“No.” You locked the door from the inside and found your spot behind him. You pulled the gun from your back and he made a small sound. 
“Nice pyjamas girly. We should swap sometime.”
“They say you never talk much in interrogations and yet ever since I've been here I can never get you to shut up.” You hissed. 
He let out a laugh. “You? Oh you I like. Such a fire, never afraid to say it how it is. A real shame you came back to Rainbow. Here I thought I wouldn't have to put you in the ground like the rest of your group.”
“For starters-” You locked your gun in place and steadied it over his shoulder. “I'm not part of Rainbow. I'm doing this as a favour. And secondly, you think you're ever leaving this hell hole your dead wrong.”
“Oh sweetheart, I don't have to leave here to watch you all die. It's already begun.”
“Yes yes, your going to kill us all. Cool story, now don't move.” 
The pair of you stayed like that for five minutes before you heard it. The massive explosion that burst the door into smithereens but done in a way that would protect anyone inside. 
Out from the dust, someone appeared- someone you didn't recognise. Without hesitation, you pulled the trigger and Deimos deliberately bumped his shoulder up. It was something you had predicted. 
“I told you not to move.”
“Your aim was off.” He spoke innocently with a nonchalant voice. 
“Yes because I figured you would pull some shit like that.” 
His chuckle vibrated next to you and he slightly leaned his head towards you. “I swear to god Deimos…”
“Have I been anything but the model prisoner?” His voice was mocking and came out as a purr. 
Even though it wasn't necessary, you removed the mag and reloaded. The movements were intentionally harsh to jolt around Deimos before you slammed the gun down on his shoulder again. 
The small grunt he made when you did so didn't go unnoticed and the corner of your lips curled up. The great thing about the design of the holding area was that in order for someone to reach you they would be forced to come down the very long hallway. 
You cursed when a bunch of smoke rolled into the hallway and filled the room. Unlike Timur, you were unable to see through it and your jaw clenched. 
Thankfully Deimos stayed quiet and allowed you to focus. Any movement you saw you were to shoot on, your ears listened for the movement in the smoke but just as they neared you a familiar suppressed gun went off. 
The smoke started to clear and you were quick to start your fire. Precise singular shots were all you needed. The bodies dropped to the ground and a moment passed. The smoke fully cleared and you started to stand up from your spot behind Deimos. “Do hurry back.” 
You rolled your eyes and met your savoir at the door. “Taina. Good to see you on your feet.” 
“Icarus.” She nodded your way and approached the open door. 
“Thanks for the backup, you did a good flank.” 
“Not that you needed it huh?” Deimos mouthed off behind you. Strangely, it was a little flattering he thought so highly of you but then again perhaps he was being sarcastic. It was hard to know with a man like him. 
“How's the rest of the base?”
“On high alert, they broke through the east side as a distraction but things are quickly coming under control. I can handle him if you need a moment.” Taina offered as her eyes scanned your rather under-dressed outfit. 
“I'm good, you stay up ahead.” You politely smiled. 
“Are you sure? Deimos is… be careful around him.” 
“I always am.” Despite your refusal, you noticed her foot still crept into the room. 
“He's a bastard and a liar. Don't trust a word he says.”
At her tone, your hand went to the side arm that you had strapped on your hip. Immediately Taina noticed how you went for the revolver and her brows narrowed. 
Still, your hand hovered there. “Taina just go.”
“Are you planning to do something?” She accused. 
“No- I'm not. But your hesitancy to leave is making me worried. I appreciate the help I do but please just go up ahead.”
“No.”
At her refusal, you pulled the revolver out and aimed it at her. “Don't make this harder.”
“Why are you so protective of him?”
“Because it's my job. Sam's orders, shoot anyone who may kill Deimos. He wants him alive and gods above help me. Don't back me into a corner here Cav.”
Then she took a step back and put her hands up. “I understand. I just wanted to see where your loyalty lay.” She nodded your way and disappeared away from the room. 
A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you found your way back to behind Deimos and ran a hand through your hair. 
“All this fuss for little ol’ me…” 
“Shut the fuck up, Gerald.” 
-
After Taina left you didn't see anyone else for about half an hour. Not until Eliza showed up with Sam in tow. “Didn't secure him down?” She cocked a brow at you. 
“If he runs I shoot out his ankles.” You could feel Deimos’s gaze on you. “Jobs to keep him alive not keep him walking.”
“Heard that you had an altercation with Taina.”
“I don't take chances.”
Eliza gave you a single nod and looked towards Sam for a moment. 
A silent conversation took place between the pair of them before Sam spoke up. “Go get some rest. We can take care from here.” 
Your tense shoulders dropped slightly and you nodded in response. “Will do.”
-
A week later you lay in your bed, eyes trained on the ceiling. Each breath was long and drawn out. Despite your clock reading three in the morning you couldn't help but lie there completely awake. 
There wasn't any logical reason to back up that gut feeling that formed and festered in your chest. A tightness that had your entire body tense. Something wasn't right. After giving up and finally getting to your feet you snatched your phone off the side table. 
You pulled on an old hoodie and dumped your phone in the pocket. A torch and your revolver were the next two things on the agenda. Mentally you promised yourself, just one check-up on the man and then you would go back to sleep. 
There hadn't been any alarms and Deimos had seemed the same annoying self when you had last seen him. It was beyond any logic that something would be going on. 
Your slippers made little sound on the polished floor as you made your way by torchlight. The way to Deimos’s room had long since been ingrained in your mind even though he changed rooms. 
Yet when you neared you weren't met with the darkness of his asleep. The door that spanned the long hallway was open and a small crack of light escaped it. You turned off the light from your torch and slipped out of your slippers. Slowly you crept down it, your hand flexed and curled around the hammer of the revolver. 
Then you saw them. Jessica, you believed her name was. She was part of IT staff. There was something connected to the electronic card reader and his door was open. Their voices were hushed to the point where you couldn't hear them. Without hesitation, you pressed the silent alarm on the wall. 
The door behind you swung closed and locked. The sound drew their attention and the first thing you saw was Jessica's face, then it was the pistol in her hand. 
A large bang echoed through the rooms and she fell to the ground with a hiss. There wasn't a single hesitation in your movement. The shot had caught her directly between the eyes and her body crumbled to the ground instantly. 
Deimos ducked behind the thick doorframe out of view. “You never should have got out of bed sweetheart.” His voice was a mocking purr. 
“Stay in your room, Gerald.”
“Room? This cell? I don't think so.” 
Something flew from the inside of his room and you swore out and covered your eyes as the flashbang went off. Disorientated, you stumbled when you felt a sudden impact. His hand wrapped around your wrist and slammed it against the wall. Despite the pain that had you gasp out, your tightened and your finger pulled the trigger. 
You slammed your head forward against his and went to knee him. Yet when your knee made contact one of his hands grabbed your thigh while he used your off balance and the weight of his body to force you onto the ground. 
Again he slammed your wrist but this time against the ground. Two more times and your grip loosened enough to fall from your grasp. Deimos snatched your gun and you went deathly still when the barrel pressed against the bottom of your jaw. 
“Nice gun you got here. LFP586, one shot from this and there's no coming back from it. Can't help but wonder where you got this.”
Silence stayed between the pair of you when you didn't answer him. He let out a small chuckle and you could practically hear the rolls in his eyes as he spoke. 
“You can talk I won't bite. Where'd you get the gun girly?”
“A bunch of operators use it. I don't know why you're surprised.”
He let out a tut. “Now it's rather a standard issue in GIGN but you're not GIGN are you? I can't recall such a weapon being on NZSAS’s artillery.” 
You swallowed and pressed your lips together. It was actually rather good that he was talking, perhaps you could stall enough time for someone to show up. 
“Now, last time- because I hate repeating myself, why does a girl like you have a gun like this?” 
“It was a gift. I've always preferred accuracy over quantity.”
“A gift huh?” You felt him twist the gun against your skin as he looked at it. “It seen a lot of combat hasn't it? Who gifted it to you?”
“Gustave did.” The words were a whisper on your lips. 
“Why?”
“A thank you from when we worked together in New Mexico.” 
“Oh, I heard all about that. Viral outbreak wasn't it? So much fuss.”
Your eyes shot to his and your lips sealed. It was classified information. He could be bluffing about it but the thought that he had such classified information has your heartbeat quicken. 
“Well I'm not one to steal a gift so let's say thank you for letting me borrow it.”
“Mind the kick. I'm sure the recoil is something new for you.” You spat the words out with venom but that just seemed to make the man happier. 
“ Now there's that fire I love. ” He grabbed you by the middle of your hoodie and pulled you off the ground. With the gun pressed against your head, you didn't dare try to get out of his grasp. Anyone else you might had but not Deimos. He was far too unpredictable and you couldn't lie that he was far better at hand-to-hand combat than you were. 
The door cracked open and you looked towards the silhouette. “Looks like someone else came to play. Nap time birdy.” Deimos voice was barely a warning before the hammer of your gun slammed against your head. 
-
Would have it been better if you stayed in bed? 
A groan left your lips as you woke up. Despite your arms being restricted behind your back you were able to sit up from your lain form. “Perfect timing to wake up.”
Slowly you blinked a few times and turned toward the voice. Deimos placed a tray on the ground next to you. In a surprising amount of gentleness, he pressed his fingers against your head. It was directed where he had hit you. The flash of pain had a hiss escape from your lips as you pulled it away from his touch. 
“It's bruised but you can handle that.” 
You glared at the man as he crouched in front of you. “I'd like my gun back now thanks.” The words were gritted from your teeth and while you knew he wouldn't return the gun it was more of an expression of how you felt more than anything. 
“I'm afraid your colleagues dealt with that when I decided to stretch my legs. You're lucky you got out in one piece.” 
He sat down on the floor properly and leaned in. “Trust me, I thought you would be a good little hostage but they were rather determined to stop me even if it meant taking you down with me.”
He picked up a chip from the plate and brought it to your lips. “You should be thanking me really.”
“Fuck you. Bastard. They were right to try and kill you.”
“Even if it meant killing you in the process?” 
“Yes.” Your lips snapped shut as he held it there.
“Open up sweetheart.” 
You glared at the man in response. With a huff, he removed the mask from his face and placed it on the ground next to him. His lips parted and he slipped the chip between them. All the while he kept eye contact. He bit into it and slowly chewed before he swallowed. 
“See, I wouldn't try and poison you.”
“Who said I thought it was poisoned? Maybe I'm not hungry.”
“It's been two days. Eat.” 
“You knocked me out for two days?!”
“No. I sedated you for easier handling and now it's finally worn off.” His voice was rather nonchalant and it wasn't until you jerked your head away that his stance tensed. 
“I don't know why you bothered. I'm not going to tell you squat even if I did know anything.” You hissed. 
Deimos chuckled and his hand reached for your face. His thumb gently stroked your cheek while his eyes roamed over the rest of your face. 
“Oh, I know you won't. There's not a thing in this world that you could say about Rainbow that I don't already know.”
“Then why bother at all? Why not just leave me there or kill me?”
“I'll tell you a secret little birdy.” He leaned in closer and his voice grew quiet. Not that it changed much, it was only the pair of you in the room. “I've grown rather fond of you and I think I'll keep you.”
Blood drained from your face as your lips grew dry. The realization hit you that you had no type of leverage against the man. If he wanted information at least you could hold out on that. 
“The feelings not mutual. I'd rather die.” 
Again he laughed and tutted at you. “Now sweetheart I don't think that's entirely true. If there's one thing I can do it's read someone and you’re an open book. You can deny it all you like but I think the feeling is rather mutual even if you can't say it.” 
“Fuck you!” You slammed your head forward against him. He let out a grunt and fell back. In his dazed state, you were quick to move. You rocked your body and jumped to your feet. With your hands secured around your back there wasn't much you would be able to do. Lucky enough the cuffs were just long enough for you to jump over them like a backwards skipping rope. 
You pounced on the man and used the chain to strangle him. To stop him from flipping you over, you leaned back and let gravity control your body. Deimos clawed at the chain for a second before his head suddenly flicked back and he went prone on the ground. The movement was quick enough for him to slip from your chain and recover. 
You stumbled back and readied yourself for his retaliation as he got to his feet. Deimos clicked his neck side to side but he didn't seem overly upset, instead, he seemed rather amused. 
A knife flashed from him and you took a step back to create a gap between the pair of you. “That wasn't very nice.” He clicked his tongue.
The knife swiped down and you used the joint of the cuffs to parry it. It collided with a loud metallic sound that had your eyes go wide as he pushed down. A grunt left your lips, the man was far stronger than he looked. 
The bastard had the nerve to wink at you before he twisted the blade. It coiled the chain around it and he yanked you towards him. Anticipating your forced movement towards him, he tapped the back of your neck and forced you against the wall. He untangled the knife and slipped it up so it rested against your neck. 
He stood behind you and sandwiched you between the wall. The warmth of his chest pressed against your back and you could feel his breath against your ear. “They'll come for you Gerald.” You cursed his name. 
“Rainbow?” He laughed and pressed against you harder. “How long did it take them the first time? Your presence changes nothing. Well, for them anyway.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“To me, your presence changes everything. ”
His knife trailed down against your throat until it reached your chest. It was pressed just hard enough to cut into the fabric.
“You're sick.” Your teeth were glued together and you didn't dare to move. Deimos’s lips brushed against your ear and for a moment you swore he kissed just beneath it. 
“No, no, no. You see, I'm very good at picking up people's micro-expressions and I know you. In the last few weeks, I've learnt to know you very well. Like I said, I don't think you hate this as much as you say. I reckon if I were to dip my fingers into that cunt of yours it would be soaking-”
“Fuck you!”
The knife suddenly tore through the rest of your shirt and you managed to clutch your shirt together. 
“As I was saying. If I found you before they did you would have been singing my praise long ago birdy.”
This time when he kissed you, it was far more prevalent. His lips slowly pressed against the side of your neck and slightly sucked on it as he enjoyed the taste of you. 
He pulled the knife away and tucked it back into his sheath before you felt his large hand cover one of yours. It curled around your hand and forced you to grope your breast with him. 
“Don't worry sweetheart. I won't force you to admit it.”
Your breath hitched and he paused his movement. 
“But I'm nothing but a man of honour. You tell me to stop and I will.”
“I've read what you've done. You wouldn't know what honour is if you looked it up in a dictionary.”
“You're probably right but I'm still a man of my word. Stay stop and I will.”
“You're a bastard.” 
His hand pushed yours upward and he replaced them. The inside of his fingers punched your nipple while he continued to palm it. Gerald's hips ground against your ass.
“I'm not hearing a no.” 
You could practically hear his smirk against your skin and when you went to open your mouth all that escaped was a small moan that only egged on him more. 
“Yeah? Do you feel that? Mmm, this is where a girl like you belongs. Pressed against me not worry 'bout anything.” His hand travelled down and didn't hesitate when it reached your pyjama pants. Gerald's hand slipped beyond the waistband and found the prize that was your wet cunt. His fingers slipped against the entrance with ease and started to tease your entrance. 
“Fuckin’ soaked. Was it just me or does being manhandled get you that worked up?”
“I…”
“Shh shh shh. I've got you. you don't have to pretend. It's just us here. Just us.” 
Two fingers curled inside of you but didn't move anymore. For a moment the pair of you just stood there completely still. The gravity of the situation started to dawn on you but you couldn't help the way that your head started to feel dizzy from his scent alone. 
He was such a man who commanded control of every situation. That natural scent was almost overpowering. You hadn't ever really noticed it even when you were in his room but now he was slow close it was impossible to escape. 
Would it stay on you long after his touch was gone? Would it claim you as his? Gerald's fingers retreated from you and you wondered if he had changed his mind. Had he sensed some type of hesitation from you? He pulled back slightly and turned you to face him. 
From there his eyes made contact with yours and he cupped your cheek with his palm. This time it was you who moved. Slowly you moved your hands up and his head tilted ever so slightly. It was obvious that he was interested in what you were doing and didn't make any attempt to stop you. His hand slipped from your face and allowed you to continue raising your hands up. 
You hooked your wrists over his head and rested them on the back of his neck. Carefully, you pulled him into you and his lips Glady made contact with yours. The floodgates opened as Gerald early kissed you. 
His mouth consumed yours in opened mouth gasps and he bent down slightly before he grabbed your thighs and picked you up with ease. Automatically you wrapped your legs around his waist as you lost yourself in his lips. 
Gerald held you there with ease, his hands feeling up your ass as he did so. When your lips parted for air he bit down slightly on your bottom lip and dragged it for a second. That smirk was still on his face. 
Your eyes kept contact while you let out small pants. He shifted your weight so it was more against the wall and allowed himself to hold you up with only one hand. Gerald pulled out that knife again and before you could say a word he sliced through the seams of your crotch. 
“The fact you came to me with no underwear on. Naughty girl.” 
“I'm in my pyjamas- ”
He cut your voice off as he placed the flat blade against your cunt. The coolness had your brain rewire and you let out a small strained sound. His tongue flicked over his teeth and the blade was gone. Gerald paused for a moment and pulled open his belt with ease. 
Then you felt it. You looked down to see his thick cock press against your entrance. The head strained for a second but then it slid in with ease. A shiver spread across your body and you griped onto his shoulders for dear life. You couldn't separate your hands very much and so they brushed against his neck as your nails dug in. 
Your eyes squeezed shut and you threw your head back against the wall as he continued to push in.
“Uh uh ah.” His thumb pushed on your chin. “Look at it. Eyes open sweetheart.” His voice wasn't mocking but one full of authority. It was a command that you obeyed without question. Your eyes looked down to see your cunt swallow his cock up. It took everything he pushed in until he was completely sheathed inside. 
All thoughts had long since left your head as he slightly readjusted himself and grabbed you with both hands again. With his grip secured he pulled you slightly away from the wall so that when he started to move you, your back didn't scrape against the concrete wall. 
There wasn't any warning. One moment you were filled stretched to the brim and then the next moment he was gone only for him to slam back in as he bounced you on his dick. A cry left your mouth and you pulled on his neck with the link. Your face buried in his shoulder as he continued that brutal pace.
Sure you had been fucked before but this was something different. Every bone in your body had turned into putty that he could meld by his will alone. Each time he re-entered it felt as overwhelming and consuming as the first. You swore you could feel him to your very core, all the way up to your chest. 
“I've got you birdy. That's it.” He purred in your ear and continued to praise you but you couldn't hear much due to the pounds of blood that echoed in your ears. 
The pair of you stayed there for god knows how long. Just him fucking you on his cock like a toy. He didn't stop even when you clenched down around him. He didn't stop when tears fell from your eyes and he didn't stop as you gushed around him. 
Gerald successfully managed to drain all energy from you by the time your cunt drained his cock. The kisses he placed on your head afterwards felt distant like he was on another planet. You didn't have the time nor the energy to think about the situation. All you could do was collapse fully limp in his arms.
-
Slowly you opened your eyes. Instead of the cell you had been subjected to, you found yourself rather cozied up in a large bed. For a brief second, you thought it was only a dream but as you blinked and looked around the room you realized you weren't familiar with your surroundings. 
You looked to the side only to see your reflection in a mirror that decorated the wall. In the reflection, you were met with the image of yourself. No longer were you in your pyjamas, instead you had a black shirt on and a pair of sweatpants. The shirt didn't fit quite right and you wondered if it was one of Gerald's. It certainly smelt like it.
The gears turned in your head and your eyes went wide. You saw the figure at the bed next to you and you spun around to see him asleep. The gravity of the situation crushed down on you and you swallowed. Slowly you got up out of the bed and your eyes went to his gun that was placed on his bedside table. 
No way he would leave it out right? It was surely a trap. It would at least be empty right? Either way, it was a weapon. His knife would be better. Yet as you looked on the floor you couldn't find it. 
You tiptoed over to the other side of the bed and silently picked it up. He didn't stir. You flicked open the chamber and your heart raced as you found that there were in fact bullets in there. Just to make sure you pulled back one bullet to check they weren't blanks. 
They weren't. 
“What are you planning to do with that birdy?” 
Your eyes snapped to Gerald. He was propped against the headboard and leaned back against one hand. With the blanket no longer covering him, you could now see his shirtless form. 
You aimed the gun at him and he didn't seem surprised. 
“I should kill you.” You hissed but couldn't stop the slight shake of your hands. Most people wouldn't notice it but he wasn't most people. 
“And why’s that?”
“You killed people.”
“And you haven't?”
“You killed innocents, you killed your own people. You killed Harry.”
“Harry was a cancer to this world. Even you should understand. After all, you left him.”
“Yeah, I left! I didn't fucking kill him for it. You were already gone- hell you killed your own team. You of all people don't have any right to lecture.”
“I did what was right to stop-”
“-You became the very thing you were supposed to stop.” 
Gerald weighed his head and pulled back the blankets from the bed. You took a step back and watched as he got to his feet. 
“Don't move.”
He ignored your command and continued forward until his chest met with the barrel of the gun. He grabbed your hand and instead of pushing your hand away, he pulled it up. The barrel rested against his forehead and he stared intensely into your eyes. 
“If you're going to shoot, you better not miss.”
His hand didn't leave yours though. His thumb rubbed over your knuckles as if he were comforting you. The soft gentle touch was such a contradiction to the rough merciless man he was.
Seconds ticked by until you suddenly pulled back your hand as if his touch burnt you. The corner of his lips curled up and you took a couple of steps back. 
“Not going to shoot?”
“Rainbow wants you alive.”
He laughed and you fled towards the door. “Keep telling yourself that sweetheart.”
“Don't call me that. D-dont follow me.” You yanked the door open and ran out the door. Silently you went down the hallways, careful not to bump into any of his men. Eventually, you found a bathroom and jimmied open the window. You had no idea where you were but anywhere was better than being by his overwhelming presence. 
You only looked over your shoulder once as you fled into the woods. He hadn't followed. 
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jordanrosenburg · 9 months ago
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Argylle - A Breath of Fresh Air
**Spoilers Ahead**
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I just got back from seeing Argylle with a friend. I knew I had wanted to see it because I like a lot of the actors in it, but I had seen the trailer so many times that I felt like I had already watched it.
That trailer couldn't have prepared me for the unadulterated fun I was about to have. Every other line out of Sam Rockwell's mouth was laugh out loud funny. What kept me drawn in, though, was the editing. The splices between Rockwell and Cavill was seamless. I know with modern technology, they easily could have greenscreened a lot of it, but it still must have taken a while to film all the same fight scenes in the same exact way to make the cuts as seamless as they were.
The score and soundtrack were brilliant. Between the funky tunes used for the fight scenes, and the dramatic notes used during what would be dramatic in a regular spy thriller, had me enjoying every minute. I will be looking up the soundtrack playlist on Spotify and listening repeatedly.
Henry Cavill is no stranger to playing a spy. In between Superman movies, Cavill starred in The Man from U.N.C.L.E. The latter was another movie that didn't mind being silly and wasn't afraid to have its comedic moments. Because Cavill has played so many daring roles over the years, where he's been the hero or the brute or even just the eye candy, he was the perfect fit for Argylle. You can tell he was having a blast, and not taking things too seriously. The audience isn't supposed to take it seriously either. The Argylle books in the movie are a personification of how cheesy those sorts of books and movies can be. The eye-rolling puns, the use of a femme fatale, and crude jokes.
Back in the day, that's how most James Bond movies were. They had their serious moments, but Bond was a cheeky spy who liked to fuck and crack wise with his villains. He was suave and sure of himself and a badass. But there was a transition in the 90's when the Austin Powers movies started rolling out. Now, I'm a huge fan of Austin Powers movies, I'll watch them any time, any place. But those movies, being replicas of the old Bond films but with more humor, outlandish sex, and over the top puns, made it difficult for the new Bond films to be silly. Suddenly, they were getting more and more serious, with more and more over the top action scenes and explosions.
Argylle brought back the silliness and the goofiness, and the ability to laugh at itself. Suspension of disbelief, etc etc. Sometimes you just need to sit back and let yourself enjoy the ride. Throughout the film, as the layers kept being peeled back, I kept thinking, "What is this movie?!" I can usually figure out what's going to happen, but the twists and turns in this film kept throwing me off, and that kept me in my seat and having fun.
There's a scene where Bryce Dallas Howard's character, Elly, thinks she's seen her parents die in cold blood. Rockwell is driving her somewhere in the south of France, and he asks her if she's okay. Howard, astonished, asks, "Am I okay? Am I okay?!", and then she started crying. This made me lean over to my friend and say, "all of us @ Elmo the other day", and we burst into hysterics. (If you're unfamiliar, Elmo's X account posted asking how everyone was, and there was a surge of responses of people using memes to show how not well they all are.)
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A little more than halfway through, we find out that Elly's real name is Rachel Kyle. She had gotten into a bad accident on a spy mission and had no memory. The bad guys brainwashed her into thinking she was someone else, and it worked. The Argylle books she wrote as Elly, were really just memories coming back to her. We were made to believe her books were predicting future events, but really, it was the past. Samuel L. Jackson explained that to her. Rockwell then had to calm Howard down and get her to settle into the information. Slowly, Rachel remembers who she is. She hasn't lost all of Elly, but she makes it seem like she has in order to complete the overall mission.
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Rockwell thinks that Howard has double crossed her, but in a very Knives Out fashion, she explains that she knew if she shot him in the chest in just the right spot, he wouldn't die. We learn that the two were lovers back in the day. Not only did he feel betrayed, but he was heartbroken. Later on, she double crosses the bad guys, finds her cat, then finds a room with all the weapons she could possibly need to get out. Rockwell finds her there, and they're able to hash things out. She assures him that they're on the same side.
This leads into one of the most incredibly choreographed fight scenes I've ever seen. You can tell the actors were having an incredible time. Smoke pours into the corridor and the two come out shooting. While throwing in body rolls and other dance movements, they take everyone out. This also included Howard lifting Rockwell up, much like how Dua Lipa was lifted up during the beginning of the movie by Henry Cavill, spread eagle. The shots used every time there was a lift like this was not subtle. We get it, it's an innuendo for sitting on someone's face. And it was funny every single time.
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Then the next fight scene happened, which gave Howard a moment to shine. They were trapped in a room that was slowly filling with oil, so they couldn't shoot their guns. She remembers she's actually good at ice skating, and puts together makeshift skates. She sticks a knife into a gun, then rushes out like a hockey player. I thought I was going to pass out from laughing so hard. It was the perfect mix of hockey style skating and figure skating. Were these scenes filled with CGI and body doubles? Yes. Did it make them less fun? Absolutely not.
Everything works out in the end because of course it does. Her ending is given to Argylle and Wyatt. Personally, I think Henry Cavill and John Cena should have kissed, they were clearly in love. I thought they would have since Rockwell and Howard kissed. All of the scenes paralleled one another, so why couldn't that one? I digress.
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For one last big laugh, at the end of the movie, Howard is back to pretending to be Elly the author, and is doing a book reading of the final Argylle book. She's taking questions from the audience, and she calls on a man. He stands and knowingly smiles. It's Henry Cavill, only he has a curly mullet and a southern accent. What is it with British actors and doing southern accents that brings me so much joy? He says, "I don't have any questions, but I'm sure you have a couple for me", and winks.
There was a post-credits scene. It was supposed to be the actual Argylle book's first film adaptation. The scene takes place in a bar called The King's Man. An Easter egg thrown in by director, Matthew Vaughn, who has also directed the 2021 film by the same name. We couldn't tell if it was serious or not, but I'd love to see a movie based off the fake books. I think mostly because the writer, Jason Fuchs, and Matthew Vaughn, should definitely team up again.
Even though there were parts reminiscent to other spy movies, this is one of the most creative movies I've seen in a while. This is my favorite kind of satire. There are so many movies that are just remakes of remakes of remakes these days. It feels like there are no original ideas left. So, this was a breath of fresh air. It was so funny and so brilliant with a star studded cast. I bet this movie was so fun to work on, you could just feel that energy radiating from the actors. There were some slower parts, but that's to be expected. For the most part, my attention was kept. It was one of those movies where I left thinking, "I can't wait for this to come to streaming so I can watch it again".
I don't think Howard is the strongest actor, and some of the plot between the good spies and the bad spies was a little confusing. I found a lot of that hard to follow, maybe that was supposed to be on purpose. Most spy movies aren't always clear on what the main issue is.
Anyways, if you're looking for an escape from the cold, or an escape in general, this is definitely the movie to see.
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tolltale · 1 year ago
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Band name, Persona, Manager, Besties, Wild card, 4 Sam?
THANK YOU FOR ASKING also it got distressingly long if u read it all you're a HERO
ask meme
Band name: How did they and the others come up with the band name? Has the name changed since it was founded?
"merry bones" comes from one of the first songs they wrote as a band about how happy performing together made them and how they could feel "in their bones" that's what they wanted to do forever. (didn't age well for one member specifically 😐) It was "happy bones" initially but they were unconvinced. the merry part came from an anecdote of the first (and last, until the band) experience sam had singing to an audience being christmas caroling in the neighbourhood at like 9yo, and the fact that she hated it enough she threw a tantrum and stormed off mid-performance once. so it was a little bit an inside joke for the band and another bit seven insisting she had to like. reclaim the bad first experience and associate it to something that made her happy instead dgdjdk. she thought it sounded dumb but the idea grew on her with time lol
Persona: How does their day-to-day personality compare to their on-stage persona?
mmhh on stage I would say she appears more confident and self assured, doing what she's best at and what makes her the happiest. more intense and out there too. off stage she's still very outgoing but not in an intense way. She's friendly in a way that usually puts people at ease rather than intimidate......most of the time. she's also very aware of the fact she's performing for an audience and has to present a certain way and "deliver an experience". it was a lot less like that when she was in a duet but now she feels the pressure of being the solo singer and having most of the attention. then again Sam performs off stage too lol she tries to charm and be funny and is overly aware of the way she presents herself and the kind of image she wants to project. There are few people who get to see her with her guards completely down
Manager: Do they get along with Orion? What do they think of him as their band manager?
not only does sam like orion a lot she's also immensely incredibly grateful to him and she takes every chance to say the band wouldn't be where they are without him and she means it 100%. they met when she was aimless and the only reasons why she was still trying so hard to find success with the band were not letting down her friends and because losing seven would have been meaningless if she quit. And seeing someone believe in the band and their music strongly enough to drop literally everything was like a wake-up call. because she also chose the band and music over everything else she just had to remember why. She also appreciates that he often can offer a logical point of view. when she is feeling doubtful about their music/performance (ALBEIT RARELY) she goes to him because she doesn't want the others to know. to the band she's like "okay this one is the album that gets us a Grammy I KNOW IT" and to Orion she's like . "okay should I drop everything and become like. An accountant instead. BE HONEST"
also like recognises like and when they met they were both romantically still going through it so Sam definitely had a Recognition Through the Other moment. "That guy needs help. Yes I'm sure . No I'm not telling you why." they have mutual soft spots for each other bc i say so <3
Besties: What’s their friendship with Rowan like? What are some things only he knows about them?
it's a very two peas in a pod kind of deal. they're both warm friendly people and like to joke around and are difficult to anger. they also both share the sense of humor of a 12 years old. I think he's the one she's the most physically affectionate with out of everyone in the band. He's the only one who knows the full extent of how she felt about The Vote and what doubts THAT stirred >:( Like is she only valued for her voice??? if their fans preferred seven would she have gotten kicked to the curb instead?? fun stuff like that. She's 98% over it right now . On a good day. On a bad day I'll say 68% ☠️
Wild card: Tell us something about your MC! Feel free to really just roll us over with an emotional steamroller and crush the souls out of our bodies, if you’d like. (You’re also welcome to choose one of the other questions to answer!)
the whole tattoo ordeal with seven did not stop her liking of matching tattoos At All. She is nothing if not someone who repeats a mistake fifteen times dhdkdm she's constantly pitching ideas for like. A band tattoo they should all get or they should all draw something and she gets it all tattooed or Rowan can design something etc etc. sometimes her friends think it's because she wants a GOOD matching tattoo to redeem the first bad one but she genuinely doesn't regret it it's like. What if the relationship has soured or things go wrong it doesn't MATTER because there was a point in which they believed in it so much they were willing to permanently ink it on their skin. And that's never becoming untrue. It's real and that's what matters <3 That said her face still scrunches up like she bit into a lemon whenever she sees photos/videos of herself with the tattoo on full display. Hashtag no regrets
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starbuckie · 4 years ago
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𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠
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pairing(s): college!peter parker x reader, dark!steve rogers x reader, dark!sam wilson x reader, dark!bucky barnes x reader
words: 8.1k words
warnings: DARK!FIC, SMUT 18+ (unprotected sex, foursome turned fivesome, gangbang, non-con/dub-con, daddy kink, oral M and F-receiving, spit kink, degredation kink, praise kink, creampie), age-gap (reader is in her early 20s), cheating, angst, there’s like zero fluff
summary: peter should’ve made it back to the tower for date night on time, or maybe just before he found his girlfriend being fucked by three other superheroes.
a/n: eee my first dark fic! im so so happy with the way this turned out, and even though it was a pain in my ass for nearly three months, im so hapy to share it with y’all. this idea was brought up by an anon from @mypoisonedvine’s saturday sleepover a few months back, but i switched up tony and sam bc i didn’t like the tony and peter stuff. hopefully my smut has improved from the first time i wrote it in january, and just a reminder that in no way, shape, or form do i condone rape of any kind. there’s a large difference from the page and the real world. i try to put all tw’s in the tags and warnings, but if there was something i missed please tell me. thank you to my lovely bestie @mermaidxatxheart for beta-reading(i have no fucking clue what i’d do without your help). feel free to leave a comment or two and reblog, but don’t repost anywhere or i will hunt down your ass. thank you again and please please enjoy <3
main masterlist || mcu masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist
Bucky wasn’t planning to fuck Y/N as soon as he saw her.
It started with a faint mention, something Tony had thrown around along the lines of, “Parker’s bringing his girl down here tomorrow, don’t be an asshole”. He didn’t give a damn what Tony said or how he acted around Peter’s girl. Years of being thrown between gruesome mind-wiping and being half-dead, asleep in a freezer would do that to a man.
So the next day when Peter brought his girlfriend in, he was scratching his ass like a fucking ape and downing a beer with a messy bun at the nape of his neck, until he actually saw her. Neat hair, even neater laces with a sweet smile but a body that could kill. Didn’t matter that she was bundled under Parker’s hoodie and a pair of jeans- he could always admire a pretty dame, but Bucky could see that she was beyond that. It was as if God had intentionally made the one being, the one ethereal creature beautiful and angelic enough to be a sin away from him, so that he couldn’t touch her. Because she was young, and in her twenties, and that shouldn’t have even been the first two things that popped up in his mind because she was also Peter’s girlfriend.
But then she had the audacity to stick her hand out, a shy grin and twinkle in her eyes as she gave her name. It sounded so pretty rolling off of her tongue, and he wondered what it would sound like while he groaned it into her cunt.
Y/N. 
So, yeah, maybe Bucky wasn’t planning to fuck her as soon as he met her, but it was pretty damn close after.
-
Steve Rogers was one of very few men who said they had the pleasure of banging nearly every woman on the north side of Manhattan. Bucky indulged in the fact that the man who had once been too shy to do so much as meet a gal’s gaze was now “a dollar whore”, but he was more than happy to keep that title if it meant he could continue to get off in the nearest woman’s mouth everyday. 
Every time he walked down the streets of New York with just a simple ball cap and jeans, he could feel stares on his back from what seemed like miles away, girls on every street corner just waiting for him to take her into the nearest public bathroom and fuck them dirty. CEOs, baristas, girls fresh out of getting master’s degrees with stars in their eyes and big dreams, until he shattered them by making them gag on his cock and scream his name into bedsheets. Or tile floors. He didn’t care as long as they were screaming. The girls of this century were just too delectable to turn down. He didn’t discriminate. His dick had been in women of every height, stature, hair color, and he had quite the variety throwing themselves at him as well.
And then Tony ruined it all and sat him down with a simple explanation that the image of Captain America was being tainted with disturbing stories of girls being fucked in the ass and thrown on their knees in dirty bathroom stalls. The blond was beyond pissed when the billionaire told him to stop dicking around, but he couldn’t do anything else if he wanted to keep his title and job. In a new century, even if he’d had a few years to adjust, he was still absolutely oblivious when it came to anything outside of aliens and sex. There was nothing left for him outside of being an Avenger, so reluctantly he agreed to keep his number of conquests to a minimum, and most definitely inside of the tower rather than out on the street.
However, inside of the tower seemed to be no problem at all when Peter brought his girlfriend over, all smiles and straight A’s, and that’s when Steve realized that he’d yet to fuck a bright, little college student. He could see himself stripping her from the innocence in her eyes, loosening up her pussy with his thick cock against the wall in his room.
Surely Tony couldn’t reprimand him for spending a little time trying to bond with Peter’s new girl, right?
-
Sam Wilson was a simple man. He had a job, a well-paid one at that, somewhere to live, a girlfriend, or a woman to keep him company, that’s for sure- but for once in his life he was seeking out something other than missions, something that would keep him busy when he was feeling bored, something like-
Pleasure, and he knew that he’d finally found what he was looking for the moment Peter brought his girlfriend through the elevator doors on the fifty-sixth level of the Avengers tower. She’d shaken his hand so daintily and spoke so politely that if he were to see her without any backstory, he’d think she was another innocent, dim-witted college student, breaking her bank account every Saturday morning and naively believing that her relationship would last longer than a few months. But by the things Parker had told him, she was much more than that.
Was it shitty of Peter to tell his teammates, the people he worked with, how Y/N was in bed? By the majority’s vote, probably, and by Sam’s strict conduct of his own morals, definitely, but when Peter’s girl looked like that and he was so incredibly bored with his routine? 
Well, fuck, Sam had never been happier that the Spider-kid had told everyone how his girl gave head.
Peter brought his girlfriend in daily after that, and every one of her visits, she grew less shy and more friendly, and the Falcon saw each of his friends gape at her growing comfortability with a wolfish demeanor. It started with the water incident with Steve in the kitchen, where he so clearly spilled water on her already thin, white camisole with intention. Sam couldn’t say he was upset though, after all Steve had offered him and the rest of the Avengers quite a show when he tried to clean up her shirt, taking his sweet, sweet time to fondle her tits as subtly as he could, his eyes staring at her pebbled nipples poking through the material. He could see Bucky hiding his boner under his cereal bowl on the couch that day. 
Then of course, he’d been no better than America’s sweetheart himself when he greeted Y/N with a hug that in hindsight, was a little too enthusiastic. His large hands squeezed into the pockets of her back pocket, and if the college student found anything weird with it, she didn’t say so, but Sam graciously palmed the round globes of her ass in his hands, feeling the muscle clench under his fingers. Oh, how he’d never hugged someone that tight ever before in his life. Maybe he would’ve gotten a bit further than squeezing her ass had it not been for his own girlfriend standing behind him, ready to introduce herself to Y/N.
Bucky, well, Sam could admit that Bucky had the most guts out of all of them. Though the super-soldier was normally well-reserved and polite, the dark glint in his eyes the day he met Y/N let him in on the secret that he had a much dirtier mind than most thought. It had been movie night that time, and he barely even tried to cover up how much he wanted the girl, his hands resting all over her as they watched Inception. Hardly a movie to get so riled up over, yet Bucky’s hand still inched its way up her thigh, his rough fingers gently carressing the flesh until they started to lightly trace the apex of her thighs. 
If she noticed anything then, she didn’t comment on it, doe-like eyes just marvelling at the screen in great intrigue. It was only when Peter’s arms wrapped around her a bit tighter did she scooch away from Bucky’s touch, with a small apology and shy grin. 
That only made his dick harder.
On the other side of Bucky, his super-soldier counterpart tapped his knee gently, forcing their blue eyes to meet each other. No words had to be said between the two, three men when they looked over to Sam, because they all recognized that look they saw in each other's eyes; predatory, dark, nearly voracious in the way they all wanted to be balls deep inside of Y/N.
And they would get there. No matter how long it took, they knew that the ultimate prize of tearing their prey apart would be more than worth the wait.
-
“Hey, babe, I’m gonna be a little late. Ned and I got stuck back in the lab, so we’re gonna need to stay until eight or nine. Can you make it to the tower by yourself alright?”
Peter’s concerned voice made Y/N smile gently as she trudged along the rainy streets of New York. He always loved to worry about her, especially when it was dark and gloomy out, but she could handle herself pretty okay. By pretty okay, of course meant she could kick ass like no other twenty-something year-old, but she wasn’t one to brag. Y/N readjusted the Kate Spade purse on her shoulder with her right hand, attempting to keep her umbrella over her head with the other. “I’ll be fine, Pete, just go finish up and get back to me. I’m gonna be waiting in your room at the tower before you go off on that mission this weekend.”
A small sigh came through the speaker, “Okay, I’ll try to get back to you soon. I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you too, Pete.” 
“Oh,” she could hear the shy but no less mischievous smile that was taking over his face, “I left you a little present on the bed, make sure you open it before I get back.”
Y/N’s face heated at the implication. “Peter Parker, you dirty little-” He ended the call with a laugh, and she huffed out a small chuckle at his childish antics.
The walk to the Avengers tower would have been nice, had it not been for the downfall of rain, making everything mushy, socks being absolutely soaked through her sneakers by the time she arrived. The receptionist at the front desk, Jenny, if Y/N remembered correctly, stared at her a little oddly, probably not expecting to see the young college girl in such a state of disorder, but it didn’t affect her at all. She confidently strutted up to the elevator, pressing in the floor number where all the rooms were located. Y/N scrolled through her Twitter feed on her phone while classic rock blared through the elevator with the constant shuffling of people moving in and out. Seven minutes and thirty-two seconds later she was sprinting down the halls with soggy shoes and damp hair, her cold body screaming for warmth.
Peter’s room was the farthest down the hall, and the room was fairly empty. He rarely stayed at his room in the tower, preferring to stay with his Aunt May or keep Y/N company in Brooklyn. When she entered the room, she saw a plain white shirt and a pair of socks strewn upon the carpeted floor, but what really caught her eye was the red box wrapped in a pink bow on the bed. Deciding it would add more suspense if she opened it later, she quickly hopped in the shower, letting the hot water warm her freezing, rigid muscles under the spray. 
Peter didn’t have all the products she’d usually use before she knew they were going to have sex, so she had to make do with the half-used bar of Irish Spring and his small travel-sized bottles of shampoo and conditioner, promising the fresh, breezy smell of citrus and mint. It was a quick process; two squeezes of shampoo, shaving with the green soap as best as she could without cutting herself, one squeeze of conditioner. A fuzzy towel sat waiting for Y/N on the rack, with the Spiderman symbol as a prank gift from her to her lovely boyfriend, and without a second to let the heat leave her damp skin, she wrapped herself in it, quickly hopping out to the bedroom again.
The lingerie she set out on the bed was a deep set burgundy color, with lace decorating the delicate corset and the trim of the satin panties. The packaging really did not do it justice. Y/N grinned at the new set, one that she knew would happily be torn from her body later. A shiver ran through her as she let the cold air fall over her skin, carefully slipping the lingerie on. It was a damn shame, really; the set was quite nice, and she reminded herself to buy more of the nicely suiting color for their nights together. 
Click.
Y/N’s heart thumped with anticipation as she heard the door open and she took a quick moment to ready herself. Hair in perfect style, legs stretched along the length of the bed to make herself look as seductive as possible, a small smirk thrown on her pouty lips.
But in the darkened room, it wasn’t Peter’s shadow that appeared. Three men, three tall, bulkier men’s shadows appeared at the foot of the bed, and horror washed over her as she realized who they were. “Goddamn, dolly, I’ve imagined what you would’ve looked like under those sweaters, but this is much sweeter than I expected.”
The sinister face of Bucky Barnes came into her view, just a sliver of moonlight lighting up his pale skin. His eyes raked over Y/N’s uncovered skin, and goosebumps appeared as she tried to cover herself up under his predatory gaze.
“W-what are you doing here?” She whispered worriedly. Sam and Steve flanked the bed on either side of her, plastered sickly sweet smiles on their faces, providing her with a false sense of security that made her heart scream in fear. Though she wasn't making any noise, her lungs felt like they were going to give out, her throat closing up like an allergic reaction. 
Her head whipped every which way in robotic movement, her brain seeming to fail her as she scanned the room for an exit. Several moments of shortened breaths, cold air chilling her body, before she came out of her freezing shock to realization.
“Why are you here? Please, get out, just g-get out!”
A calloused hand pushed away Y/N’s left arm that covered her tits, and Steve groaned at the sight of her pebbled nipples. “God, baby, they’re as pretty as I thought they’d be. Been trying to feel them up all week, but you knew that, didn’t you?”
Saturday the week before at lunch when he’d spilled water over chest and tried to clean her up. Sam’s friendly hug that became a bit less friendly when his hands slipped into the back pockets of her jeans. The movie night on Monday when Bucky’s hand caressed her thigh a little too close to her core. All of their touches began to make more sense, and her eyes filled with tears at the realization. 
“Please,” she begged, tears blocking her vision, “I promise I won’t tell anyone, not even Pete, but please just go.”
“You just don’t get it, do you?” Steve asked. He grasped her chin roughly, his face close enough to hers so that she could feel his fiery breath on her lips. “We’re not leaving, sweetheart. You’re gonna let all three of us play with your pretty little body, and you’re gonna make the prettiest sounds for us, alright?”
Y/N shook her head violently, too afraid to make noise, but also bold enough to make one last attempt at freedom. The hand that held her chin quickly moved to slap her cheek, and she hated the way the sting made heat stir in her lower belly. She tried to shy away from their touch again, but Bucky’s face simply held the same smirk as he trailed his vibranium fingers up and down her leg. 
“Oh, come on, Y/N, don’t act all shy now. Peter has been telling us how good you’ve been to him and don’t think he hasn’t told us about your little childhood crush on little ol’ me. Been wanting to fuck you ever since.” Bucky’s hand quickly left her body, instead moving to palm over the bulge in his pants. “Fuck, sweetheart, got me real hard just thinking ‘bout your pussy swallowing my cock. Bet you’re gonna be a sweet, obedient girl for me, right?”
Fire started to course through Y/N’s veins, and with all the power she tried to dampen it down with, it seemed to push through her body that much more dangerously. She despised the fact that she could feel herself growing wet for the three older men, but God, she had never felt the need to be filled up as badly as she did in that moment.
“You’re a bit of a slut, don’t you think?” Sam mocked. He kneeled on her right, his eyes fixated on her panty-clad pussy, a wet patch already forming on the soft satin. It really didn’t help that three of her teen celebrity crushes were eyeing her nearly naked body like a piece of meat. “I mean, look at you, already growing wet and needy for three cocks. Is that what you want, honey? Parker not treating you good enough?”
She hesitated. Goosebumps rose across her skin at the sinister tone of his voice, like he already knew it was true. And it was true and she hated that Sam was right, but as amazing as Peter was a boyfriend, it was clear from the vibrator hiding in his apartment’s bathroom that he was not amazing in the sheets. Every time, she held hope that it would be better, that she would finally get to stop faking an orgasm before he rolled out of the bed with a filled up condom, but she knew deep down inside of her that it wasn’t happening anytime soon. Y/N forced herself to nod weakly at Sam’s questions, and Bucky chuckled. “Oh, you poor dolly, we’re gonna have so much fun with you. Treat you better than that little boy ever could.”
All it took was a whimper, a nearly audible, deadly silent whimper that managed to squeak its way past Y/N’s throat, and the three men took it as permission to ravage her body however they pleased.
Steve made quick work of his pants as Sam lifted her chin to kiss him, his tongue hot and heavy against her mouth, coaxing her lips open. The sound of belt buckles hitting the floor shamefully turned on Y/N even more. Panic coursed through her senses, her mind wanting to scream for them to stop, but her body knew her too well as she felt a wave of slick run down her thighs. Cold metal digits slipped under the waistband of her panties, moving to her wet folds, and she whimpered into Sam’s mouth at the touch. 
“You look so nice, baby, so pretty all laid out for us like this.” Bucky’s hands pulled down her panties as Steve pinched her peaked nipple through the lace, laying lavish, open-mouthed kisses down her torso. The cool air hit her pussy when Bucky’s hands pulled her legs wide open, fully exposed to the three men ready to use her against her will. “Knew you’d be so wet for us, sweetheart, just look at you. Dripping all for your daddies,” Steve murmured against her skin.
Hot breath fanned over her cunt before they rolled her over on her stomach, someone’s hands forcing her up onto her knees with her face smashed into the cotton pillows. She could feel two rough human hands pulling her ass cheeks apart, spreading her ever wider for their view. “Would you look at that, boys, look how fucking hot she is for us.”
Sam’s thick finger ran through her folds, the calloused pad of his finger just teasing her clit before landing a harsh smack to the inside of her thigh. Her moan was muffled through the mattress and she prayed they wouldn’t hear how being treated like whore made her wet like nothing else. 
Hot slick dripped down her thighs, a pool of it staining the pristine sheets by each knee. It was quite a sight, Steve, kneeled by the bed as his face hovered next to her ear, whispering filthy things into her ear as Bucky stroked his hard, leaking cock right next to him. Sam’s lips were making their way up the inside of her right thigh, cracked skin gliding across her sticky flesh. “Oh, baby,” he purred, “you smell so good. Bet you taste even better, don’t you, little girl?”
His tongue reached the apex of her thighs, finally licking a stipe up her center with no warning. Y/N sobbed into the comforter below her, mascara stained tears marking up her face. Two fingers edged their way between the bed and her face, forcing her head upwards and arching her back. Steve’s face was caught in a dirty smirk above hers, lip pulled taut between his teeth, until he saw the tears trailing down her face. “Oh, sweetheart, you look so desperate like this.” His fingers traced her smeared lip gloss around her lips, before opening her lips harshly. “Open up, you dumb baby.”
Y/N forced her jaw open wider, just enough to watch a string of Steve’s saliva drip into her mouth. The thick spit pooled on her tongue and she tried hard not to grimace in front of him, in hopes that he wouldn’t make her- 
“Swallow it, sweetheart.” He saw the hesitation in her eyes, how her lower lip trembled at his words, but he just laughed at her. “Now.”
The warm saliva slid down her tongue and more black tears ran down her face as she obliged his orders, finally gulping it and cringing at the taste. Steve loved the way her face screwed up in displeasure, how she still had the audacity to pretend she hated what they were doing though she was moaning and whimpering with Sam’s tongue attacking her entrance.
“What do you want, sweetheart? We might give it to you as long as you use your words.” Bucky taunted lightly.
Y/N stared up at the brunette, staring menacingly down at her with his cock in hand. ��Please,” she whimpered.
The three found it woeful, the way she could barely get a full sentence out as Sam went to town with his skilled tongue, but even with that onslaught, a simple please wasn’t enough for them.
“Please what, honey,” Sam moaned from between her legs, “you gotta use your big words or we’ll never know what you want from us.”
Steve and Bucky nodded in fake-agreement even though they all knew exactly what she wanted and where. 
“I don’t-” her widened eyes glanced into Steve’s, blown-out and teary. “I don’t want anything, not from you.” She lied through her teeth harshly.
Sam removed his head from between her thighs and Y/N immediately whined at the loss of contact almost hilariously. “You don’t want anything, little girl?” 
The air felt static, every hair on her neck rising in the pressured silence. The angel and the devil clawed at her heart, each trying to show her what was right. And she wanted to sin, God knew that she would love nothing more than to let that little greedy part of her take over, but she’d already cheated on Peter and that damn good part of her conscience stole the wheels of her brain.
Slowly and shamefully, she shook her head, though the downright dirty monster inside of her wanted the men to ignore her words and keep assaulting her body. 
“That’s a shame, baby, I thought we were having fun.” Sam sighed. He met Bucky’s gaze on the side, and though they seemed to be in resignation with her wishes, their eyes twinkled devilishly. He positioned his body over Y/N’s kneeled over form, his bare chest glued to her sweating back as his hands ran up the sides of her ribcage and to her front, just barely grazing over her sensitive nipples. “You mean, you don’t want me to touch you here?”
He pinched the darkened buds and she had to use every ounce of self-restraint to not collapse at the sensation. His calloused hands moved back even further, tracing down to the stretch of skin just above her mound, swiping a finger across the skin delicately. “How about here? Or even,” he brought three fingers around her body, over her ass, and into her glistening cunt again, just rubbing along her entrance, not daring to go further in. Y/N couldn’t hold in her reaction to his prodding anymore, his teasing chipping away all of her dignity and pride in a few simple touches. 
“Yes, please, please, use your fingers,” she blurted against her will. Where shame should have washed over her, there was only lust, raging red and coursing through her body so forcefully that she felt braindead. “Put your fingers in me, daddy, please.”
The pet name rolled off of her tongue so easily and she was barely ashamed of how it made her feel. The name especially shocked the three men, who smiled even wider with their cocks harder than before at the little slip up. “That was all you had to say, dolly, gonna have your daddies make you feel real good,” Bucky laughed.
Sam finally plunged his thick fingers knuckle-deep into her cunt as Steve’s mouth captured hers, effectively swallowing her scream with ferocity. The long digits scissored and swirled inside of her, pressing against new unexplored areas that she’d never even gotten to with her own fingers. White dots danced along the front line of her vision as teeth clashed against hers and though it’d been mere minutes she already knew she was close and the men did as well.
“I can feel you clamping around my fingers, honey,” Sam taunted. His lips were moving sinfully around her ass, planting sloppy kisses and drooling all over her skin while he fingered her deep. “Are you gonna come soon, baby?”
“Yes, daddy, I’m so- fuck,” Y/N panted into Steve’s mouth, “m’ so c-close.” The blond bit her tongue hard enough for her to taste blood and she yelped as she heard Sam and Bucky laugh. 
“Watch your language, dolly,” Bucky sneered from the side of the bed. His hand was rapidly moving around his cock, corkscrew motions edging him towards the brink of pleasure. 
“Little girls like you don’t get to use big swear words,” Sam’s face was still buried between her legs, his soaked fingers pulling out of her cunt only to rub at her little pearl of nerves in circles. His tongue still lapped at her dripping entrance and he could feel her tight hole start to pulse as her breathing picked up. “Oh, baby, you’re getting close, aren’t you?”
Y/N was hesitant to answer at first, the sweat on her body seeming to cool immediately in fear of what would happen if she messed up. But after five seconds Steve stopped kissing her, gripping her chin and staring into her eyes deeply. He looked as debauched as she felt, with his rosy lips swollen with spit and cheeks tinged with pink. “Are you gonna answer daddy, sweetheart?”
That knocked her into shape real fast.
“Yes, daddy, I’m so close. P-please let me come,” she whimpered. The whine in her voice pleased the two men, and Steve went back to exploring her mouth before she felt something poking against her asshole.
“Gonna let daddy put his cock in you, little girl?” Sam asked gently. His words had panic coursing through her system, a chilling realization like water being poured on her head and she began to wiggle around, trying to free Sam’s hand from her hip. Her arms weakly pushed at Steve’s chest, trying to push him as far away as he could, but the men only laughed at her flailing limbs. Y/N wanted to scream no to them, and despite her contrasting love-hate relationship with Sam’s fingers inside her cunt she knew it was time to go. It was laughable how much she would continue to say that to herself for the rest of the night. 
But Sam managed to sense her panic, knowing exactly what the issue was before harshly spanking her and effectively stopping her struggle. “Don’t worry, baby, I won’t come inside of you. I’m not risking knocking up a whore with my kids, I’ve got more dignity than that.”
He led the leaking tip of his dick down her crack, rubbing it along her slick entrance before pushing in with a groan. “Oh my fucking God, that is so hot.” Bucky admonished from the side. “Gotta get in on that soon.”
Steve chuckled against Y/N’s lips, pulling away with a strand of saliva connecting them. He adjusted himself up so his dick was centimeters from her face, a knee propped up on the bed for balance. “Gotta wait your turn, Buck, we all want a piece of her.” He noticed the way Y/N’s eyes were transfixed on his cock, the red mushroom head smeared with precome along the slit, nearly purplish veins standing out prominently on his shaft. Yeah, he couldn’t even deny that he was big because he already knew how many girls had dropped down on their knees for him. “Go ahead, sweetheart, open up those pretty lips for me.”
Almost too excitedly, she dropped her jaw, allowing him to slide his cock into the silky warmth of her mouth. As his hips started to thrust into her mouth, Sam’s started to do the same into her cunt. Both men moaned in tandem with their movements as Y/N’s worries faded away to the back of her mind as they stuffed her to the brim.
“You can come now, baby,” Sam nearly ordered, “go and cream on daddy’s cock- fuck, I know you’ve been waiting.”
It was a harsh bump of his head against her G-spot that sent her over the edge, walls clamping down with ferocity and milking him for all she was worth. Y/N reeled in the sunlight infested warmth that coursed through her body as she finally let go, whining around Steve’s dick as he continued to abuse her throat with long, deep thrusts. 
Bucky was still holding his orgasm off, fondling with his tight, heavy sac while his dick remained a painfully hard mess, glistening with precome. “I’m so glad I got to see you come, dolly, look so fucking pretty when you do.”
She couldn’t deny the little skip of her heart at the praise, just a few simple words that made her feel like a good little girl. But no, God-fucking no, she wasn’t supposed to let them make her feel this way. Guilt washed away that warmth in her chest just as quickly, knowing that her boyfriend was just waiting to come back to see her, finishing up his studies so that they could live their lives out together after college while she was getting her pussy and mouth absolutely wrecked by his co-workers. 
As soon as Y/N got her brain thinking straight again, Sam started moving inside of her again and she garbled out a strangled cry. “If you thought we were done here, baby,” Sam laughed, “you’ve got a lot left ahead of you.”
“We’re not leaving until all of us have come, brat.” Steve’s palm gripped the back of her skull roughly, pushing her head so far down on his dick that her nose was squished against his abdomen. “Greedy little bitch.”
Both men started to thrust into her again, and just like that she was back to being absolutely lost in desire and lust like the bitch in heat she was until there was a sudden shift in the air. So much that the sweat on her body began to cool her skin, Sam’s hands still gripping her hips so tightly she knew they’d leave marks that she would have to hide when she wore her favorite low-cut shorts. 
Bucky’s eyes seemed to drift from her tits moving with each movement of her hips, checking behind the door as if there were something lurking there, but she was too afraid to see for herself. If she stopped she would get spanked, and they’d probably prolong her second orgasm even further, and her pussy couldn’t handle any more subtle teasing.  
“Hey there, Parker, why don’t come on out here?”
But that, that was what made the hairs on Y/N’s neck rose, dread filling her to the fullest as she realized the implications of Sam’s words.
Peter had seen everything. Peter, her boyfriend, had seen three of his co-workers, three men who she barely knew, fuck her deep into his mattress. Peter, her boyfriend, had watched her get fucked into his mattress, without trying to stop them whatsoever.
She couldn’t tell if it was the guilt of cheating on her boyfriend or the freezing realization that he hadn’t done anything to stop the three men that hurt more. 
Yet Peter still walked from behind the door, dressed in a NYU hoodie and a pair of khakis slung low on his hips, just drawing attention to the sizable bulge that stretched out his zipper. His umber eyes, normally full of so much joy and love, were possessed by the same lust and darkness as the three men, as much as he tried to hide it behind a shyer facade. 
His eyes were trained on the tightness of how Y/N’s pussy was gripping Sam, her lips glossed over with come and spit wrapped around Steve’s dick. The girl stopped in her movements, her eyes no longer full of tears for just being gagged, but as soon as her mouth came to a halt around the base of his cock, the blond slapped her across the face. A sharp crack echoed around the room and though she couldn’t see him, she heard Bucky’s feral growl of pleasure at the whorish treatment she was receiving. 
“Didn’t say you could fucking stop, sweetheart, keep working on daddy’s cock.” No more words needed to be said as Steve gripped her hair once more, forcing himself farther back into her throat to the point where she couldn’t breathe. Sam’s thrusts were quickening, closer and closer to release as the sounds of the girl struggling to breath made his balls tighten. 
“Fucking shit, baby, you feel yourself squeezing my dick? I bet you like teasing daddy like that, don’t you?” One of his hands were brought down on her ass in a quick smack that resonated with Bucky, who was staving off his orgasm for something much sweeter than his hand. She was moaning raucously around the dick stuffed in her mouth, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure up every nerve in Steve’s body as he came with the tip of his dick nearly being swallowed by Y/N’s throat. There was barely any time for her to fully down the thick come in her mouth before Sam was threatening to orgasm. “I’m gonna come so soon but you better fucking not, little girl, you hear me? Gotta let your daddy come before you, you ungrateful little bitch- oh.”
It was a really fucking close call, Sam’s dick pulling out of her with one quick movement before spilling pearly ropes of come onto Y/N’s spine. A high whine escaped her mouth, clit throbbing as she was so, so close to coming, and she was too far into her crazed pleasure to realize that she was letting three older men, men who fought to defend the universe from evil, use her as an over-glorified fleshlight. 
She couldn’t really blame them for calling her a cockdrunk whore. 
Bucky sauntered over to the bed, eyes trained on the pool of come centered around the base of her spine before flipping her over onto her back with his large hands and shoving three vibranium fingers back into her hole. She gasped and held onto his forearm as he continued to fingerfuck her to her second orgasm, eyes screwed shut in a delirious haze of contentment for being filled with at least something again. 
“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, please-” Steve slapped her along the face, correcting her words immediately. “Daddy, daddy, please let me come.”
Bucky chuckled, tweaking one of her nipples with his flesh hand as he hovered over her face. “I don’t know, dolly, you’ve been a little naughty, callin’ me the wrong name, not listening to Stevie’s orders- don’t think you deserve to get what you want.”
A muffled whimper escaped her swollen lips, and he sighed in surrender. “Okay, dollface, go ahead and come on my fingers. Let me see how you wet ‘em up real good.”
Y/N’s hips bucked into his metal digits with finality, come leaking out of her cunt and soaking the sheets below her. Her sweat-glazed skin shone even against the darkening sky, and all Bucky could do was chuckle at how her chest rose quickly as she tried to catch her breath. He thought about teasing her clit again, just circling around the little bud of nerves to get a rise out of her, but he decided against it. Sam probably had better plans for her anyway. 
On the other hand, Y/N’s orgasm was starting to wear off as she noticed the hardened stare from the edge of the room. Her boyfriend.
“Peter, I…” Y/N made eye contact with him, suddenly noticing how mousy he looked in his own bedroom. 
“I nearly forgot you were here, Parker,” Sam smirked darkly. “Why don’t you come over here and fuck your little whore. I’m feeling a little generous today.”
Steve and Bucky nodded with the same infuriating smugness as Sam. The brunette boy opened his mouth to object to the degrading statement, but when he met his girlfriend’s eyes nothing needed to be said. There was no escaping this. Nothing he said mattered to the three older men, because really they had already gotten everything they wanted right in front of their disgusting, perverted eyes. 
He unbuckled his belt, letting the weight of it drop his khakis to the floor. Maybe if he’d known he would be forced into join a fivesome later that night he’d have picked any other boxers but the Ducktales one, but no one seemed to say a word about them, rather focusing on what they were failing to conceal. 
Peter’s cock had always been admirable to Y/N by its length and God, definitely its thickness. Curved upwards towards his abdomen with a vein running along the left side up to the bulbous head, it was definitely more than average. It was really just a shame he didn’t know how to use it well enough.
His shirt was pulled over his head just as quickly, and if Y/N knew any better she would say that he was excited to get to fuck her in front of the three men. He placed himself in between Y/N’s parted legs, standing in the same position as he had so many times before.
But when Y/N cried out in pain and pleasure as he slid into her, Peter knew that this time, it was different. This time three men, men that he used to trust with his life, stood on either side of him and his girlfriend and jerked their hands up and down their cocks as they watched her get fucked relentlessly. It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t romantic, but he couldn’t really think when his thick cock was stuffed inside of her stimulated pussy, juices and come leaking out of her abused sex. 
“Go faster, Parker,” Steve instructed, his face contorted in pure pleasure. The pace of Peter’s thrusts sped up, and he threw Y/N’s ankles over his shoulders, hitting deeper inside of her, with the sound of her sobs only turning them all on more. “Oh, right there, shit, shit, shit-”
Steve came first, a low groan escaping his lips as streams of come landed on her tits, still bouncing with every movement of Peter’s hips. 
“Open up,” Sam gritted through his teeth, and Y/N obediently opened her mouth to let his bitter come coat the inside of her throat, some of it landing on her face and neck. The string of curses he let out made Peter thrust even faster into her, and he hated, absolutely despised the way it turned him on to see the three men use his girlfriend to their pleasure. But soon enough a hand pushed against his chest away from Y/N and he reluctantly pulled out.
“Move aside, kid,” Bucky instructed, “Wanna come inside of her.”
As he lined his gigantic cock up with her entrance, her eyes widened with fear. “No, please, I didn’t take my pills, I can’t- I won’t, please not inside-”
“Shut the fuck up, you slut.” Bucky’s fingers came to slap her clit harshly, and she cried out in pain. “You’re gonna be quiet and let me come wherever I damn want, right?”
He punctuated his last word as he thrust inside her, filling her up to the hilt with his girth. She was too drunk on the feeling of her cunt being filled up to argue again. It was painful, extremely so, even though two different cocks had been inside her overstimulated pussy already and Bucky stretched her out wide, his cock thicker with veins to hit every pleasure point. With her legs tossed around his tapered torso, he slid out until his very tip was left in her, then slammed back in with a small moan. The head of his cock relentlessly pounded into her cervix in a nearly soundless tempo and all Y/N could hear were her own gasps of pleasure, jaw-dropping moans that made drool slide back down her throat in her laid down position.
She turned her head to the side, and though her vision was bleary through the tears, she could see Sam and Steve watching Bucky fuck her while Peter, her boyfriend, her sweet, sweet boyfriend, was caught up fucking his hand to the sound of Bucky’s balls slapping against her ass. 
“Fuck, ‘m not gonna last much longer, dollface.” Bucky gasped. “You gonna come soon? You’re gonna come for daddy one more time. I think you’ve got a third one in you, you little fucking slut.”
“Shit, shit, daddy, please ‘m almost there,” Y/N wailed absentmindedly. A thumb came down to circle her clit quickly and she felt the coil in her stomach grow tighter and tighter, until she finally let out a high whine, finding her release as Bucky’s cock pulsed inside of her, ready to come just as easily as her. Her pussy clenched around his cock as she rode out her orgasm, fingers grasping at the sheets in order to find some sort of grounding. His come painted her walls white, and Bucky could’ve sworn there was no better feeling than feeling his blood warm in every vein as he finally let go. With stunted groans, his hips slowed its rhythm, lost in watching how his cock disappear into Y/N’s pussy, her slick juices coating his dick each time he pulled out. 
“Ah, fuck, dolly, you did so good for me. Pussy tight as a fuckin’ vice.” Bucky hugged her limp body close to his sweaty chest, letting his dick soften inside of her for a good few moments before pulling out. He tossed Y/N back onto the bed below him, barely even caring to clean the come dripping down her ribcage and out of her cunt before grabbing his boxers from the cabinet next to the bed. 
Steve was already buttoning his jeans up, checking the notifications on his phone before shoving it back into his pocket. The blond seemed to have better things to do so soon after, rushing his way to the door before pausing where Y/N laid to watch come drip out of her pussy. One more time he pushed Bucky’s come inside of her abused entrance, watching as it oozed out from behind his digits. “Look at you, fucking full of of his come. Such a goddamn whore,” he muttered under his breath.
Those were the last words he said to her before patting Bucky on the shoulder and leading him out of the opened door. 
Maybe Sam was a bit more kind, or affectionate at least. He was already dressed but visibly hard again beneath the thick denim of his pants, and he made sure Y/N knew it, taking her left hand and placing it over his dick. “You still got that effect on me, honey, even when you’re all fucked out like this.” He dragged his fingers through the thick ribbons of come that coated her chest, bringing them up to her mouth so she could taste. Even though she was more than exhausted, she wrapped her tongue around the two fingers that were pushed past her swollen lips, sucking them clean with a tired vengeance. Satisfied with her work, he kissed her chin one more time before leaving without so much as another word, slamming the door shut on his way out.
Click.
It ended exactly the way it started, the lock jostling into the doorknob just as easily as the high of Y/N’s final orgasm slipped away.
Stifling silence suffocated the room around them. Peter refused to meet her eyes, just as much as hers did his. She laid motionless on the bed with him standing at the foot, his dick soft and if she narrowed her bleary eyes just a bit, she could see how his knees were shaking. Neither of them were able to say anything, losing the ability to converse as soon as the three men left the room.
“Peter,” her voice was throaty after the rough fucking she took, “C-can you please get me a drink?”
The brown-haired boy looked down to meet her face, and she could finally see the reason that he had hid it from her. His eyes were red and bloodshot, snot running from his nose with tears running down his cheeks. She’d been so caught up in the after haze of the sex that she didn’t even notice how his bare chest was heaving so deeply, nearing hyperventalation. 
But still, he grabbed his boxers, pulling them over his weakened legs clumsily. “Y-yeah, what kind do you want, Mr. Stark has a ton-”
“I don’t care.” She cut him off firmly, a sharp tone in her voice as she rolled over on her side. Y/N tucked her knees to her chin, fingers running over the side of her neck which was marked with bruises and scratches. “I don’t fucking care.”
Without another word Peter slipped out of the room quietly, knowing better than to try to talk to her about what they had been forced to participate in. It wasn’t as if there was much to say anyways.
Rain pattered against the window. It was only six o’clock in the evening. Cars honked and beeped and Natasha’s Igor Stavinsky record played for its fiftieth round of the day, and to anyone else in the tower it was a normal night. Normal, just like the ones spent sitting on the couch with Bucky’s hand creeping up her leg or Sam’s hands groping her ass, but this time they’d made a move. 
The silence was far too much to handle, the unspoken truth of what she’d done with Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Peter finally hitting her, knocking the air out of her lungs as she suddenly struggled to breathe. Gripping her face, clawing at it like a goddamn wolf, Y/N began to cry. Silently at first, gradually growing into heartbroken sobs, she let her trodden pride carry her voice wherever it wanted to go. 
The men’s whispered words haunted her mere moments after they’d left the room, but most audibly she could hear a faint husk of a voice, Sam’s low moan in her ear looming in the dreadful silence of the room:
Thanks for sharing with us, baby.
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orionsangel86 · 4 years ago
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SPN Conspiracies - Applying Logic to Chaos
Its been over 2 months now since the Supernatural finale aired. I am still so angry, hurt, and confused by it and I don’t think I will ever get closure unless someone like Andrew Dabb, or Jensen Ackles, actually opens up and gives us an explanation that makes sense.
What annoys me most right now is people trying to gaslight fans into believing that we should accept the narrative we have been given at face value: That the finale was always planned to be that way, that Destiel was never on the cards, that there was no Network interference, that the only changes made were due to covid and were minor at best.
This harmful gaslighting is FALSE.
NO ONE KNOWS THE TRUTH OF WHAT HAPPENED.
Look, I don’t agree with some of the crazier conspiracy theories. I don’t believe that there was some huge campaign among the CW Network execs to remove anything remotely gay out of homophobia. I don’t believe that the finale was changed because of some desire to make it into a Walker promo. I don’t believe that the finale was really bad on purpose in protest by Dabb for not getting to do an ending he truly wanted. I don’t believe that Dabb left us smart fans a bunch of secret messages in the finale to hint that he was on our side all along and that everything was fake.
I do, however, believe that all of these conspiracy theories have some elements in them that are plausible. At least, more plausible than the bullshit narrative mentioned above that some people are pushing in some desperate attempt to defend the Network (which imo is really strange behaviour anyway - why would anyone care about a TV network with a history of terrible behaviour?!?)
We have facts, based on information provided before the covid lockdown, which for some reason, people like Misha have since backpeddled on. So let me try to outline some of the information that makes no sense.
Below the cut I go on a deep dive into the conspiracies and statements I have heard about the SPN finale and try to make some sense of this whole fucked up situation. It gets long.
1. “Cas was never gonna be in the finale”.
False: We have many fan accounts of Misha confirming that he was filming the finale. We have video evidence of Misha confirming he was going back to film the finale after the lockdown. We have confirmation from fans in Misha M&Gs from March that he had about 5 days of filming left.
We also had fan accounts of discussions with Alex Calvert (I think) where he confirmed the final shot of the final episode was all four of them though I would LOVE if someone can find a source for this.
2. Okay, Misha was gonna be in the finale, but only as Jimmy Novak
False: I heavily side eyed Misha when he said this. But I think I can come up with a plausible explanation for it. Per above, Misha was supposed to film for 5 days. This does not align with the half a day he described of filming as Jimmy Novak. My own belief is that after Cas was cut from the finale (for whatever reason we don’t know) someone (probably Jensen Ackles) put up a fight and complained that Misha should be there for the final episode. The writers probably tried to come up with a way to bring Misha back without having to deal with Cas, and pitched the idea of Jimmy Novak being in Heaven. Misha, obviously annoyed about this, turned this stupid pitch down.
3. Destiel was never a thing, never planned, never part of Dabb’s ending. Bobo and Misha pushing the confession was the part of the season that was Wrong.
False: We have a SPN writer on record saying that Castiel’s confession was the first thing written for Season 15 when the writers returned to the writers room. If it wasn’t planned, why was it the first thing written, why does it align so well with the rest of season 15? Look I know some people either a. hate destiel and refuse to see it even if it slaps them in the face, or b. have major heteronormative goggles on, or c. are just homophobes in denial, but 15x18 fits in perfectly with the narrative of season 15. Everything Cas says, everything that happened in that scene was so in character it just works. It fit. If you just rewatch the season whilst applying some critical thinking skills and pay attention to the narrative and character arcs, trust me, the confession fits in with pretty much every other plot point, and character story in the season.
Also: We have known for a while that the network did market research into Destiel, wanting to know if it would go down well or not. They were well aware of its popularity and considering it. Where would this have come from if not pitched by the showrunner? Dabb must have at least been considering it. If you take all of Dabb era into consideration, starting with mid season 11, all the way through the season 12 build up, season 13 grief arc, and then Bobo’s Destiel break up arc in late season 14, early season 15, it is clear that there was some toing and froing on the issue of Destiel, but ultimately, I still believe that Dabb was on board. He wrote 13x01 for christs sake. No way he wasn’t taking it seriously.
 4. It’s always been about the brothers. The finale just stays true to what Supernatural is all about.
*rubs temples* Fundamentally FALSE: The show has time and again reasserted the message of “Family don’t end with blood”, as well as the messages of AKF and YANA. Sam and Dean may be at the heart of the show, but a heart can’t exist without a body to support it. Without bones, and lungs, and blood, and muscles, and a BRAIN. The finale abandons the shows core messages. It forces the characters back into their season 1 characterisations and the whole thing becomes hollow and souless. But I’m not here to complain, I’m here to lay down the facts. Dean’s heaven was supposed to be surrounded by loved ones right? We know OG Charlie Bradbury was gonna be in his Heaven, we also know CAS was gonna be in there. So this idea that the finale as it currently stands was how it was meant to be is wrong. Dean was supposed to die and reunite with his found family and loved ones. This alone would have been a far better ending than the one given. Do I think this was solely a covid issue? Fuck no.
The randoms that WERE in the finale are proof alone that they could have got people in and quarantined. We also have several actors on record saying that they WOULD have quarantined for the finale had they been asked to return but they WEREN’T.
Lies have been told. Samantha Ferris and Chad Limberg have confirmed that we have been lied to about the original plans for the finale.
This alone is proof enough that there is more plausibility in some of the conspiracy theories than any bullshit narrative some people are pushing in defence of the barbaric mess of a finale we were given.
So lets address some of the conspiracy theories now:
Conspiracy No.1: The CW Network reviewed Supernatural during the covid break, and due to homophobia, refused any Destiel arc that wasn’t already filmed, shut down any potential reciprocation from Dean, and forced Dabb to change his finale.
I don’t think this is entirely what happened. But I do think it is very strange how there is a such a huge disconnect particularly in Dean’s characterisations between what had come before the lockdown, and what came after. The one fact we have here, and please someone provide a source if you can find it because I know there is one, the finale script was still going through changes up to only 2 weeks before it was filmed. We know that there was some weird editing in 15x18 (which was still in post and uncompleted before lockdown) and we know from Jensen’s own mouth that there was more to the confession scene on Dean’s side that was cut. We also know that this isn’t the first time that Destiel heavy moments have been changed in post - the prayer scene is another big scene that went through a lot of changes and Bobo fought to have his script play out the way he wanted it.
There are certain things that in my own opinions, are basically true of SPN which I have put together from years of keeping one eye on the writers room, the network, and all the various comments made. My opinion is this:
The writers room has always been split on Destiel. Some writers heavily supported making it canon, others did not care, or were against it.
The Network considered it over the course of several years, did market research, green lit it, then changed their minds, possibly several times over the course of Dabb’s era. Destiel was pitched to the Network early in Dabb era.
The crew on set were also split. Some people heavily supported it, and worked to assist the reading, whereas others did not care/did not support it. The same can be said for the editing room.
Bob Singer supported the subtextual homoeroticism, but never supported bringing it into text (this is an opinion, but I think it aligns with everything we know about him.) IMO Bob Singer also supported subtextual homoeroticism between Sam and Dean - the guy is gross is what I’m saying. He isn’t exactly a progressive person.
Fun fact - a while back our old enemy Sera Gamble went on a Twitter rant about writers rooms and the ways a script goes through changes. I don’t think this was in relation to the SPN finale wank but she basically inadvertantly confirmed that the Network can step in and make sweeping changes to a script if they want to and if they decide they don’t like the direction of a story. Sera Gamble confirmed this as a fact.
Now. I’m not saying that this is what the CW did with Destiel. I just think its very strange how pre lockdown, the last thing filmed is a heartfelt homosexual declaration of love between Dean and Cas, and we have a finale script that Misha had not seen, but knew that he was meant to film as Castiel for 5 days (5 days on set is over half of an episode as far as I know). Then all of a sudden, Covid happens, and Cas is cut from the finale completely, a desperate attempt to bring Misha back only as Jimmy Novak takes place, which Misha rightly refuses, leading to a finale which makes zero sense narratively and appears in every way completely and utterly butchered.
The only explanation provided by anyone involved is that Covid meant changes had to happen - but that covid didn’t change the actual story at all.
But this makes no sense because we know that Cas was cut from the finale. This is FACT. Do not let anyone gaslight you into thinking otherwise. Misha was preparing to quaranting to return to set as Cas post Covid, so whatever happened to cut Cas from the finale, it wasn’t Covid.
I’m gonna have to Occum’s Razor this and say that the most logical explanation here is the one that is most likely true. Someone got cold feet with the Destiel story, and to prevent any possible interpretation that included Dean reciprocating, any hints of Destiel were removed from the finale script, including Castiel’s whole appearance.
Now, this isn’t me saying I think that Dabb’s original finale was full of Destiel love confessions and a homosexual kiss or whatever, but I am asking you all to really think about it and ask yourselves WHY Cas would have been totally cut from an episode he was supposed to be in at LEAST half of? 
We will probably never know the real reason Cas was cut, but he WAS cut. I’m not saying it was all homophobia, but some fuckery went down.
Conspiracy No. 2: The CW Network changed the finale to make it into a Walker promo because they only cared about raising up Jared and not Jensen and Misha as they were losing them anyway.
I don’t agree with this in terms of the finale being butchered solely to make it into a Walker promo. There are however moments in the finale that are clearly supposed to be Walker Easter Eggs and added to excite fans of Jared/Sam in particular such as Sam’s gratuitous and unnecessary topless scene, as well as the call on the “case in Austin”.
I will take this moment to say something pretty damn controversial though.
*Deep breath*
The fact is, Dean Winchester has been the “lead” character of Supernatural’s narrative for years now, with Sam often being sidelined and not given great storylines himself. Even in Season 15, right up until the finale, I myself felt bad for Sam sometimes because so much of this show has become all about Dean. Jensen Ackles is clearly the better actor when it comes to emotional story arcs, so the emotional heart of the story has most often leant on him.
So you can understand my confusion, when this is turned on its head in the final episode, to make Sam carry all the emotional weight, and have the most lines/screentime, and story resolution (even if his story resolution was just as crappy as Dean’s).
If we pretend that Destiel is not a thing, and ignore Cas’s confession, the story change in the finale from Dean focus to Sam focus is still rather suspicious. Again, I’m not saying I completely approve of or agree to the conspiracy theory that Walker influenced the butchering of the script, but I can believe that perhaps a note went down from the CW to someone like Bob Singer, to emphasise Sam/Jared more than they perhaps would normally, because the CW wanted to shine the spotlight on Jared to raise excitement for Walker.
I can also believe this note might have said something like “we wanna cater to fans of Sam/Jared the most - don’t do anything to piss them off.” but now I am getting into my own conspiracy theories so by all means dismiss this as me being bitter.
Conspiracy No.3: Dabb purposely made it bad, as a secret message to Destiel fans that he had been silenced, by layering meta clues into the episode that he knew fans would notice.
I doubt this one is true. Though some of the theories are quite compelling. The old vampire silent movie theory for instance starts off quite well, but loses me the moment it brings up Urban Dictionary slang.
Sometimes I have just had to accept that Supernatural is a bad show that is sometimes accidentally a masterpiece. However, some writers really did go That Deep with their stories - anything by Ben Edlund or Steve Yockey for instance, their episodes are meta masterpieces with a hundred different layers of beautiful subtextual storytelling and are a joy to analyse. Bobo Berens has certainly done some A+++ work especially now we KNOW that he was working hard all this time to bring Destiel to canon text (so any analysis of Destiel in the subtext in his episodes is very accurate). There have been many other key elements analysed over the years which have been confirmed true. Cas’s death in Season 12, Dean’s time as a demon in season 10, Season 11 ending in unity of dark and light, these were all plot points predicted by meta writers just by analysing the narrative. Sometimes the writers really have been very smart and they do add things to the show to aid us in our meta.
Richard Speight Jr for instance, confirmed that SPN has a visual library that the production team use to give clues and hints in the narrative. Pizza, for example, always means a lie has been told. Whenever Pizza is being eaten or even just mentioned on screen, there is dishonesty in that particular moment.
The beers also have a very specific message and the one thing I can’t let go about the finale, was that Dean was drinking El Sol beer. The beer his dad gave him, that was terrible.
El Sol has been used in the show to indicate something being wrong, a fake reality, or another lie, for the longest time. It is the beer of deception.
The fact that in the final episode of this entire show, Dean is in Heaven, supposedly at peace, and then he gets handed an El Sol beer to drink? Thats a HUGE red flag for any meta writer watching who can read SPNs visual library.
If they had given him the Margiekugel beer of family then it would make sense. Dean is in Heaven, with Bobby, his family, at peace. Margiekugel should have been the beer of choice. But nope. El Sol. Something is wrong.
I don’t know if it was Dabb, or Singer, or some disgruntled ADs and crew members who added these elements into the finale, but their very presence confirms some message of Wrongness.
I could go into a huge rant about Vampire Mimes not making sense and the very glaringly obvious symbolism of cutting out peoples tongues too, but that is high school level film analysis. It’s obvious. It means to silence someone. There is validity in interpreting this as Dabb saying he was silenced. I don’t know how true it is, but i can’t 100% dismiss it, because as I said, this is high school analysis levels of obvious subtextual storytelling.
So in summary, whilst I don’t think that Dabb intentionally went out of his way to sabotage his own script, and leave a breadtrail of secret messages for savvy fans to put together to confirm that he was silenced by an evil network into not getting what he wanted... I do think that there is validity in questioning these odd choices for the finale. Cutting out tongues? Vampire Mimes? El Sol beer?
The evidence is somewhat compelling is all I’m saying. I don’t believe the full conspiracy theories, but as I have said many times before, some fuckery went down.
So What Do I Believe?
That some fuckery went down and whatever company line they are pushing is bullshit.
I believe that the original script included Cas (since thats fact). I believe that the original script probably always had Dean dying on a vampire hunt (due to Jensen’s issues with it and in particular, his sarcastic comments about vampires in the past year or so which in hindsight are hilarious and prove he never really came to terms with Dean’s idiotic death). I believe Dabb’s original script was some less crappy version of what we got, which potentially included showing Jack rescuing Cas from the Empty and resolving the outstanding Empty plot points (potentially this was actually a 15x19 plot since Mark P commented that his final scenes were supposed to be with Jack and Cas), had Cas reunite with Dean in Heaven and had them have a discussion about Cas’s confession. I believe that there was probably a lot of back and forth over how to handle that with some people wanting Dean to obviously reciprocate and others believing they should keep it ambiguous. I believe that Dean and Cas would have reunited with Charlie Bradbury, and Bobby Singer, and possibly others (though if this was the case it must have been very early on since no one ever looped in Sam Ferris, Chad Linberg or any other Roadhouse people).
I believe that Sam’s ending probably didn’t change much, but I do feel that initially they were planning on him ending up with Eileen, because it is the only thing that narratively makes sense. Cutting Eileen and giving him a blurry wife is something I won’t ever understand and Jared’s bullshit explanations are quite clearly pulled out of his ass to appease bronly types. I believe the reunion on the bridge would have included Cas and Jack, with a final shot of all four of them together, at peace (as this aligns with Alex’s comments from around a year or so ago that the final shot was all four of them). (I also am not sure it was always supposed to be on a bridge since the foreshadowing in an earlier episode showed Dean, Cas and Sam all in the Roadhouse together).
I believe that script went through countless changes and redrafts, and not even production people or the types that some fandom people claim as their “sources” would even have seen those early scripts, since even Misha never saw it. I believe that these rumours of Dabb never having Cas in his finale and ignoring all Destiel elements likely come from people who only saw later versions, weren’t party to network discussions and felt bitter about the final scripts they did see (being the crappy butchered one that was ultimately filmed). Those “sources” are now spreading rumours to discredit Dabb.
I obviously believe Dabb is a weak ass pushover who either didn’t care enough to fight back, or gave up since he’s been stuck with fucking Bob Singer on his back for years, but I will NEVER believe he didn’t care about the DeanCas love story, because he has been one of the few writers who has championed for it for years. You can’t look back at Dabb’s episodes in earlier seasons and claim he didn’t care. Dabb was a writer whose creative ideas were beaten out of him by an unforgiving Network only concerned about where their future money was coming from. Do I think he gave up too easily? Yes. But I also have one other huge reason for not believing the bullshit about Dabb being this anti-Destiel villain.
Bobo. Because if Bobo truly believed Dabb was gonna fuck that up at the end, I don’t think he would have given us Cas’s love confession to begin with. If he had known it was gonna end like that, I think he would have reconsidered, because had Cas not confessed his love, I don’t think he would have been cut from the finale. Bobo - a gay man, would not have wanted such a horrible message for queer fans being put across in the show he worked so hard on. He started writing that confession scene the day they returned to the writers room. Dabb would have been there, would have seen what he was writing, probably discussed it with him, after all, other episodes were written with the confession in mind. No way was Dabb planning to fuck up the ending knowing what Bobo was giving us. Nope.
Something went very wrong over lockdown. Someone, somewhere up the chain of power caught wind of the confession scene in 15x18, realised that it demanded a resolution which would make Dean Winchester, their protagonist, queer, and pulled the plug. I believe this did not come from a place of homophobia, but of bad business sense.
The CW is constantly trying to win the approval and attention of the one demo group that they seem to fail at getting the most: young straight men. Supernatural was one of their only remaining shows that appeals to young straight men, and Dean Winchester is more often than not the fave character of those young straight men who project onto him. Making Dean Winchester, established Han Solo of Supernatural, queer and in love with his best friend in the finale would have come across as a betrayal to those young straight men. The CW probably feared they would lose that demo group for good, and with a show like Walker starting soon with Jared at the helm, they couldn’t take the risk.
Hence there was probably a whole bunch of back and forth script redrafts with the Network, with Dabb and Singer fighting to make a finale that would appeal to everyone. There was most likely no way that they could bring Cas back without addressing what had already been filmed, because any resolution of that plot would either a. make Dean queer, or b. address it awkwardly by having Dean reject Cas (this storyline would probably have been slammed by critics worse than the finale because it meant addressing it. It might have got the attention of LGBTQ activist groups and caused a bigger shitstorm than what we got). The best option was therefore C. Bury it and Cas, pretend it never happened. Never address it again and distract Dean with other things. Hope that Destiel fans will accept no answer from Dean as ambiguous enough to imagine a future reunion rather than shutting it down with a rejection, and still keep hold of the blissfully ignorant heteronormative straight boys so they can carry over to Walker when it starts.
I also believe (controversially probably) that there was concern that any resolution of Dean and Cas would have overshadowed network darling Jared Padalecki. If Dean and Cas had come together in the finale, with a very clearly textual homosexual reunion, then that would have been all anyone talked about. The reviewers, the critics, the audience, everyone. It would have been nothing but Dean and Cas (and look, if they did think this, they were right, Destiel trending over the US ELECTION.)
So what is the network to do, when they are losing the two stars who would get the most attention from this storyline? The one star they were holding on to and getting his own show, relegated to third place in the finale of the show where he was first on the call sheet? Nope. That’s pretty unacceptable. Even without Walker I can imagine people at all levels side eyeing the Destiel thing over the years. This IS a show about two brothers, and their relationship should be the core relationship, we can’t have one brother pushed aside in the finale to make way for a queer relationship that will get all the attention instead. It was never gonna get approved for this reason ALONE.
At the end of the day, if I look at it from a business perspective, it makes far more sense that the CW shut down Destiel, rather than “oh Dabb never cared and ruined it because he’s an idiot.” The writers cared, and had built on that story over years. But their mistake was leaving any Destiel resolution to the finale. If they had instead gone and got Dean and Cas together in early season 15, then they could have ended it in a way that satisfied everyone. Destiel wouldn’t have threatened pulling focus away from Sam and Dean, and the show could have gone out on a high.
When I lay out all the conspiracy theories, and line them up next to the cold hard facts, the conspiracy theories in some way or another, make more sense. To believe the company line, the narrative we have been fed, is to ignore your own eyes, ears, and memories pre March 2020.
All I’m asking people to do is take a look at the show, the narrative presented in the show, and the information presented above. I’m not telling you to believe what I’ve written here, half of which is just my own opinion. I’m asking you to ask yourselves if it makes sense to you. Because it sure as hell doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t think I’ll ever be satisfied.
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freddiekluger · 4 years ago
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Why Cap Being Internally Closeted Is Not Only Possible, But Valid Representation 
i wrote this to a lot of mitski and onsind, so you can’t blame me for any feelings that bleed through
now i don’t know if it actually exists, but i’ve heard of there being a lot of discourse surrounding the captains story arc regarding his sexuality- i believe the general gist is that having a queer character that remains closeted to themselves is either unrealistic or ‘bad’ representation, and as someone who really treasures the captain and relates to his story so far a lot, i thought i might break this down a bit. 
i’ve divded up every complaint i’ve heard about this into four main questions which i’ll be covering below the ‘keep reading’, because this is gonna be pretty comprehensive. full disclaimer i reference my experiences as an ex-evangelical non binary butch lesbian a couple times, and i spent a year studying repression and the psychological impacts of high demand sexual ethics for my graduating sociology paper, so this is coming with some background to it i swear
the big questions:
can you EVEN be gay and not know it????
but isn't this just ANOTHER coming out arc, and aren't we supposed to be moving beyond those?
but if cap can't have a relationship with a man because he's a ghost, what's the point?
since cap's dead, isn't this technically bury your gays, and isn't that bad? 
1. "but is it really possible to not know? Isn't that bad representation?"
short answer: no and no.
before i get into the validity of the captain's ignorance about his own orientation as 21st century rep, let's break down how the hell the captain can be so clearly attracted to men and still not even consider the possibility that he might be gay, as brought to you by someone who literally experienced this shit.
the captain's particular situation is both a direct result of the lack of information around human sexuality he would have had (aka clear messaging that it's actually possible for him to be attracted to men. i don't mean acceptable or allowed, i mean physically capable of happening- the idea that orientations other than heterosexual exist and are available to him, a man), and a subconscious survival mechanism. the environment in which he lives is outright hostile to gay people, while the military man identity he has constructed for himself doesn't allow for any form of deviation from societal norms, let alone one so base level and major. as a result of this killer combo of information and environment, instincts take over and the mind does it's best to repress the ‘deviant’ feelings until a. one of these two things changes, or b. the act of repression becomes so destructive and/or exhuasting that it becomes impossible to maintain. the key to maintaining a long-term state of repression of desire is diverting that energy elsewhere, and a high-demand group such as the military is the perfect place for the captain to do this (this technqiue is frequented by religions and extremist ideologies worldwide, but that’s not really what we’re here to focus on). 
while the brain is actively repressing ‘deviant’ feelings (aka gay shit), this doesn't mean you don't experience the feelings at all. when performed as a subconscious act of survival, the aim of repression is to minimise/transform the feelings into a state where they can no longer cause immediate danger, and something as big as sexual/romantic orientation is going to keep popping up, but as long as the individual in question never understands what they’re feeling, they’ll be able to continue relatively undisturbed. you know how in heist movies, the leader of the group will only tell each team member part of the plan so they can’t screw things up for everyone else if they get caught? it’s kind of like that.
this is how the captain appears to have operated in life AND in death, and it’s a relatively common experience for lgbtq people who’ve grown up in similar circumstances (aka with a lack of information and in an unfriendly-to-hostile environment), and accounts for how some people can even go on to get married and have children before realising that they’re gay and/or trans. 
personally, while i can now identify what were strong homo crushes all the way back to childhood, at the time i genuinely had no idea. there was the underlying sense that i probably shouldn't tell people how attached i was to these girls because i would seem weird, and that my feelings were stronger than the ones other people used to describe friendships, but like-like them in the way that other girls like-liked boys? no way! actually scratch that, it wasn't even a no way, because i had no idea that i even could. i even had my own havers, at least in terms of the emotional hold and devotion she got from me, except she treated me way less well than cap’s beau. snatches of the existence of lgbt people made it through the cone of silence, i definitely heard the words gay and lesbian, but my levels of informations mirrored those that the captain would have had: virtually none, beyond the idea that these words exist, some people are them, and that's not something that we support or think is okay, so let's just not speak about it. despite only attending religious schools for the first couple years of primary, until i got my own technology and social media accounts to explore lgbtq content on my own- option a out of the two catalysts for change- the possibility of me being gay was not at all on my radar. don’t even get me started on how long it took me to explore butchness and my overall gender, two things which now feel glaringly obvious. 
when shit starts to break down, you can also make the conscious choice to repress which can delay the eventual smashing down of the mental closet door for a time (essentially when the closet door starts to open, you just say ‘no thanks’ and shut it again by pointedly Not Thinking About It). in the abscence of identifying yourself by your attractions, it becomes quite common to identify with a lack- in my case, this meant becoming proud of how sensible and not boy crazy i was, and in the captain’s case, this means becoming proud of how sensible and not sensuous/wild (aka woman crazy) he was, identifying with his LACK of desire for women and partying (which, even in the 40s, involved the expectation of opposite sex romances and hook ups). i’m not saying that’s the only reason he’s a rule follower, but i think the contrast between About Last Night and Perfect Day pretty much support this. (the captain getting on his high horse about general party antics that he inherently felt excluded from because of underlying awareness of his difference & his tendency to project his regimented expectations of himself onto others, vs. joining in the reception party, awareness of how the environment supports difference in the form of clare and sam, and relaxing his own rules by dancing with men- the captain doesn’t mind a party when feels like he has a place there.)
so the captain was operating in a high demand, highly regulated environment (primarily the military, but also early 20th century England itself), with regimented roles, rules, and expectations. working on the assumption that he wouldn't have had out/disclosing lgbt friends, he would have had little to no exposure to lgbt identities, and what information he did receive would have been hushed and negatively geared. while my world started to open up when i started high school was allowed to have my own phone + instagram account, resulting in me realising something wasn't quite 'right' within a few years (making me a relatively early realiser compared to those who don't come out to themselves until adulthood), in life the captain never had that experience. he didn't receive the information he needed, his environment didn't grow less hostile. with the near-exception of havers related heartbreak, his well disciplined and lifelong method of repression never became destructive/exhaustive enough to permanently override the danger signals in his mind and allow him to put his feelings into words. neither of the most common catalysts for change happened for him, so he continued as usual, even after his death.
BUT, and here’s where we come to why this is actually great representation, arrival of mike and Alison represents the opening up of new world. for the first time, the captain is actively made aware of the fact that his environment is no longer hostile, and better than that, it’s affirming. he’s also getting access to positively geared information about lgbtq people and identities, so option a of the two catalysts for change is absolutely present, and resoundingly positive. 
the captain’s arc is also relatively unique as it acknowledges the oppressive nature of his environment, but actually focuses on the internal consequences, and the way that systems like those that the captain lived in succeed because they turn us into our own oppressors. for whatever reason, we repress ourseslves, and often can’t help it, and i find that the significance of the journey to overcome that is often overlooked in more mainstream queer media. perhaps it’s just not very cinematic, or it remains too confronting for cishet audiences, but ghosts manages to touch on it with a lovely amount of humour and hope. Jamie Babbit’s But I’m A Cheerleader is another favourite piece of queer media for the same reasons.
not only does it show this, but as the captain continues to get gayer and lean into some of his less conventional traits (like an interest in fashion and the wedding planning), it shows lgbt people who have been or are going through this that there CAN be a positive outcome. it takes a lot to unlearn all the things that have painted you as wrong, especially when a massive institution is desperate to continue doing so, but you can do it, you can be happy, and it's never too late. (i've been meaning to say that last point for ages for ages, but a mutual beat me to it here)
2. not just another coming out arc
i absolutely support the demand for queer stories that don’t center around coming out (it’s like shrodinger’s queer: if you’re not coming out on screen, do you really even exist?), but i don’t align with the criticisms that the captain should already be out. for the reasons mentioned above, the captain’s particular story is fairly different to the ‘young white teenager who mostly knows gay is fine, it’s just everyone else that’s got the problem, but have a unremarkably straight sounding soundtrack, a trauma porn romance, and a cishet saviour’ that we keep seeing. the captain’s ongoing journey with his sexuality emphasises the overaching theme of the show: recovering from trauma and humanity’s endless capacity for growth, and i think that’s worth showing over and over again until it stops being true.
additionally, while the captain’s journey regarding his gayness is a big part of his character and story, ghosts makes it clear that it’s not the ONLY part, and being gay is far from his ONLY characteristic or dramatic/comedic engine. the fact that i’m even having to congratulate ghosts for doing that really shows how much film and television is struggling huh.
while all queer media is, and should be, subject to criticism, i think if it helps even one person then it absolutely deserves to exist, and i can say i’ve found the captain’s journey to be the lgbt story i’ve found that’s closest to my own, which says a lot considering he’s a dead world war 2 soldier who hangs out with other ghosts including a slutty Tory, a georgian noblewoman, and a literal caveman. 
3. if captain gay, why he no have boyfriend???? 
another complaint that’s been circulating is that since the captain doesn’t, and likely won’t, have a boyfriend, that makes him Bad Representation because it follows the sad single gay trope. i kind of get the logic from this one, and a lot of it is up to personal interpretation, but part of me really enjoys the fact that the captain’s journey towards accepting himself is separated from having a relationship.
coming out is often paired with having romantic/sexual relationships (either as the reason or reward for doing so). my own struggle with repression didn't end the second that came out, and i still struggle with letting myself develop & acknowledge romantic feelings as a result of actively shutting them (and most other feelings in general) down for years, and statistics show that lgbtq youth in particular tend not to live out their 'teen years' until their twenties. by not giving cap a relationship straight away, ghosts separates the act of claiming identity and sexual orientation from finding a partner (two things which are, more often than not, separate), and also provides some very nice validation to folks who have yet to have the relationship they want, especially when lots of mainstream queer media is now jumping on the cishet media bandwagon of acting as if every person loses their virginity and has a life defining relationship at sixteen. it’s essentially a continuation of the earlier theme of “it’s never too late”, and who’s to say the captain won’t get a gay bear ghost boyfriend to go haunt nazis with??? people die all the time, it could happen.
(also, i think him and julian will have definitely shagged at least once. it was a low moment for both of them and they refuse to speak of it.)
lots of asexual/ace spectrum fans have come out to say how much they’ve loved being able to headcanon cap as ace, and while that’s not a headcanon i personally have, i think it’s brilliant that ace fans feel seen by his character- we’re all in this soup together babey (and sorry for cursing everyone still reading this with that cap/julian headcanon. i’m just a vessel)
4. “okay, but cap’s a GHOST- doesn’t that make this Bury Your Gays?”
this is a bit of a complex one, but i’m going to say no as a result of the following break down.
Bury Your Gays (BYG), aka the trope where lgbtq characters are consistently killed off (and often with a heavy dose of trauma, while cishet characters survive) is probably one of my least favourite lgbt media tropes. BYG has two main points:
1. the lgbt character is killed, thus removing them from story entirely- hence the use of the phrase ‘killed OFF’ (killed off of the show/film)
2. the character’s death reinforces the perception that lgbtq people’s lives must end in tragedy, instead of being long and fulfilling, or are inherently less valuable. bonus points if the character is killed in a hate crime or confesses same-gender love right before they die (that one implies that queer love genuinely has no future!)
not every death of an lgbtq character is bury your gays, and i personally feel that the captain is an example of an lgbt death that isn’t. 
first of all, while the captain is dead, so are the vast majority of characters in ghosts. the premise of the show means that death is not the end of the line for its characters- for most of them, it’s the only reason we get to see them on screen at all. as such, the captain being dead doesn’t remove him from the story, so point one is irrelevant.
at the time of posting, we don’t know how or why the captain died, but we've had nothing to suggest his death was in any way related to his latent sexuality, so his mysterious death doesn’t actively play into the supposedly inherent tragedy of queer lives, nor the supposedly lesser value. that’s as of right now- since we don’t know the circumstances of his death it’s a little tough to analyse properly. while the captain’s life absolutely features missed opportunities and it’s fair share of tragedy, hope and growth (which seems to be the theme of this post) abounds in equal measure. the captain may not be alive, but we DO get to see him growing and having a relatively happy existence, that for the most part seems to be getting even better as he learns to open up and be himself unapologetically- that doesn’t feel like BYG to me.
while writng this, it’s just occured to me that death really is a second chance for most of the ghosts, especially with the introduction of alison. from mary learning to read, to thomas finding modern music, they’ve all been given the chance explore things they never could have while they were alive, and hopefully grow enough to one day be sucked off move on.
in conclusion,
i love the captain very much and i hope his arc lives up to the standards it’s set so far. i don’t know where to put this in this post, but i’d alo like to say i LOVE how in Perfect Day, the captain wasn’t used as an educational experienced for fanny at all. i am very tired of people expecting me to be the walking talking homophobe educator and rehabilitator, so the fact that it’s alison and the other ghosts that call fanny out while the captain just gets to have fun with the wedding organisation made me very happy.
here’s a few other cap posts that i’ve done:
the captain’s arc if adam and the film crew stayed
a possible cap coming out 
the captain backstory headcanon
if you’ve read this far,
thank you!
also check out @alex-ghosts-corner , this post inspired me very much to write this
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mollymarymarie · 3 years ago
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20 questions Writer’s Edition
Thanks @blitheringmcgonagall for tagging me in this! 
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
34
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
696,047
3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?
Harry Potter (Marauders Era) Marvel (Stucky, Bucky/OC, Pietro/OC) And then one about Sam Kiszka from Greta Van Fleet (that I wrote as a commission, sort of) and one I wrote about Lee Pace (cause I saw it in a dream lol)
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
The Lad That Loved You - sort of canon Hogwarts-era fic with a twist on The Prank (Remus and Sirius pretend to fight to cover up their relationship)
When It Counted - Remus gets spiked with Veritaserum and makes Sirius (and everyone else) believe it was Amortentia to cover up the truth
Vow Under the Covers - Remus is getting married. And not to Sirius. And Sirius has to decide if he can live with that.
Save Me, Save Me, Save Me - Remus thinks Sirius is in love with his neighbor and offers to help cook her dinner (Sirius and Marlene have to pretend to be attracted to each other, despite being VERY GAY, to cover up Sirius’ feelings)
Heavy In Your Arms - Sirius is the Slytherin prefect and has to nurse Remus Lupin back to health after a vicious full moon 
5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?
ABSOLUTELY - comments make my whole day, my whole week, I want people who take the time to comment to know that I LOVE THEM DEARLY
6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
It’s a one-shot, but the angstiest ending is definitely in Where The Willow Don’t Bend (the story is about Remus becoming one of the ghosts at Hogwarts, so it’s OBVIOUS that it is not going to exactly end ... happily)
7. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?
Generally, I tend to write all my fics with happy endings? Real life has enough terrible endings on its own AND I’M HERE TO ESCAPE FROM THAT OKAY 
But honestly, I think the ending in Heavy In Your Arms is QUITE happy :)
8. Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?
I’ve never written a crossover! I don’t write for enough fandoms to have done that, I guess. Mostly just HP and Marvel and there isn’t a lot of room for crossover there, lol (besides, I haven’t written for Marvel in ages)
9. Have you ever received hate on a fic?
Somewhat. In Show Me Everything I Missed, I had someone tell me they were disappointed with how I made Remus be the emotional weight-bearer of the fic. But it was DIRECTLY after Sirius had gone through a VERY traumatic event, so of course Remus would be trying to help him through it. I get where they were coming from, and I guess I should be honored that my characters made them upset? isn’t that kind of the point of angst?? 
10. Do you write smut? If so what kind?
I do. For me, I went to private school (read: religious), so it was heavily instilled in me that sex is bad and disgusting and dirty, but then you get married and suddenly it’s beautiful and holy and important? So it took me a long time to be comfortable with sex in general, even more so with the idea of writing it down, but the idea of “smut” is kind of nonsensical to me. We go through all these things as human beings and those are all okay to write and to read and to experience, but a BASIC HUMAN NEED for most people is something to be hidden?? I’m going on a rant, but basically, I’m tired of the stigma, I guess.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not ... directly?? I have had people tell me, after the fact, that they posted my fic on a site outside of AO3 but it was still listed as being written by me, but I didn’t have an account with that site. I was still sort of weirded out by that one. 
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
yes! I had someone ask my permission to translate to ... Italian? I think? I can’t quite remember, but that was kind of cool, I guess. Again, it’s sort of iffy with those things because I think this was on a third-party site, too, so I was kind of indirectly attached to it.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
I never have! I have a problem with deadlines and working as a group looool I think i have control issues?? hahahahah 
14. What’s your all time favorite ship?
Wolfstar, hands down. I’ve been writing Wolfstar for, gosh, almost ten years. Which, comparatively is not that long, but it’s longer than any other ship for me
15. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?
I have a couple WIPs for characters that are NOT Wolfstar that I’d like to finish (mostly the one about Cassidy from Preacher, because I have a MASSIVE Joe Gilgun crush) but I haven’t written on it in YEARS so it’s probably not happening
16. What are your writing strengths?
oh gosh. okay, so i’m not good at answering these. I think I write smut relatively well? I do pretty good angst I think?? My characterization is usually something people enjoy? (honestly, i just write them as MY own versions of the character, but people seem to agree with me for the most part??)
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
I FOUND THIS OUT RECENTLY - i am not always good at following through with a plan for a fic and also i am not good at writing down what i see in my head. for example, if a character has black hair and glasses in my head (but maybe not necessarily in canon), i often have to go back and add these details because halfway through, i’ll be like DID I EVEN TELL THEM WHAT HE LOOKS LIKE AT ALL??? 
18. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
oh i’m SHITE at it. I wish I could speak another language well enough that I could incorporate it into my fics, but I doubt that will ever happen for me! (I had quite a bit of French dialogue in We Can Pretend and it went okay, but I did have someone tell me I had a grammatical error because I just used Google Translate lol)
19. What was the first fandom you wrote for?
this is going to be a HILARIOUS answer, but ... the Good Charlotte fandom. I never posted it, just my friends read it (I had quite a few fics about boys in bands back then, I was sixteen) but yeah it was a total soap opera. Like. outrageous.
20. What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?
They all have uniquely special places in my heart, but I have two favorites:
We Can Pretend - Remus and his father are the butlers for the Black family, and Remus has to figure out how to take care of Sirius while hiding his feelings
Heavy in Your Arms (the Slytherin!Sirius one, and also Ravenclaw!Remus!)
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sorcerersofnyc · 3 years ago
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The Last Thing Left (Zemo x F!Reader) 8/9
If it wasn’t so painfully ironic (and hilarious to watch,) Helmut would find the relationship between Sam and James a little sad.
Ghosts weren’t enough to hold two people together.
While they wait for Torres to locate Donya Madani, Zemo brings Sam and Bucky to the home he once shared with you.
You reunite and he reflects upon his relationship with you (his wife's friend and his friend's wife) and your journey from being people with mutual friends to partners.
Part Eight: Zemo has to say goodbye.
Suicidal ideation, Angst, various mentions of death & mourning, Zemo's wife's name is Heike because of comics.  I use Serbian Cyrillic as a stand-in for Sokovian. The reader likes waffles (this is a non-negotiable fact).
Note: Main Character is neutral in most regards, but the story was written with my own cultural background in mind. (In other words, I won't say what she looks like but I envision her as being black.)
First Chapter | Previous
***
He doesn’t know how to tell you goodbye. He doesn’t want to tell you goodbye. So lingers at the doorframe of his bedroom with a heavy heart and troubled eyes.
Your spot on the bed is empty, the blankets still unmade as steam from the shower hovers thinly in the air.
The sound of running water stops just before he passes the archway that leads into the master bath. The glass door opens and shuts on the other side. He hears you shuffle around and, after a moment, sees you peek around the wall.
You gasp.
Drops of water slide down your shoulders, vanishing beneath the fluffy towel wrapped around your breasts.
"Helmut!" You retreat behind the wall quickly. “I thought you were still downstairs!”
“My apologies,” He smirks. “I had no intention of intruding.” Helmut turns around for the sake of your modesty.
You hesitate for just a moment before approaching him, your footsteps growing closer, more confident as you near him from behind.
“You should have woke me,” you scold, entering his periphery. He twists his neck just enough to watch you bend over and take something from the drawer.
“I felt it would be wise to let you sleep.”
He watches you disappear behind the wall once more, curious to see what it was you took from his drawer. Was it an article of clothing? Did he have anything that suited you? He ponders every possibility.
So when you finally return, Helmut drinks in the sight of you, checking you out from head to toe.
“Stop staring at me like that.” There’s a slight waver in your voice as you look at him, as you take notice of the wicked smile on his face.
“My apologies again, Драга,” he places special emphasizes the word, “I was merely enjoying the view.” Your clothing is your own, except for the socks.
“We shouldn’t linger,” Helmut imagines you fighting back a blush as you ignore his words. “The last thing I want is those two running around my house. What if they find all Anežka’s guns?” You move to step around him, to walk out into the hall, but Helmut takes your hand into his own and pulls you into his arms.
“Wait,” he instructs you, his voice leveled and controlled. You look up at him, confused—perhaps a little intrigued—by the sudden force of his actions. You brace your hands against his chest.
“Yes?” You still, but gaze shifts from his eyes to his mouth, down his jaw, and back up again.
Cрањеg, he thinks, because it would be so easy to kiss you, so easy to do anything with you as Sam and James wait downstairs. (They could take notes if they heard them.)
He pulls you in a little closer, lessening the space between your chests. It would have been so easy—but Helmut won’t start something he can’t finish. He has to leave and he could never leave you wanting him, not when he knows he’ll never see you again.
“There’s something I must tell you first,” he insists, breaking your intimate gaze.
“What is it?” Your voice is a breathless whisper, so sweet he nearly falters.
“I’m sorry but I must leave you again.”
“Oh.” The simple phrase hung in the air.
“I'm truly sorry, I believed—”
“No, it’s—I mean, we both knew we wouldn’t have much time together…” The world grew quiet around him, as though all the birds and the sun in the sky shared in his agony. “When will you leave?”
“We have but a few hours left together.”
“Where are you going?”
“Riga.” He brings a hand to the curve of your cheek.
“We have a place there, right?” You take a step backward, releasing yourself from his hold, and brush past him quickly. “I’ll call someone to have it ready for you.”
He wants to call you back to him, hold you in his arms, memorize your every curve and feature—but instead, he watches you go.
***
Before enacting his ‘diabolical scheme,’ as the media so kindly put it, he arranged for Oeznik to send regular updates about you.
The first broke his heart completely.
When Oeznik tried to deliver the paperwork he had for you, you sent him back with a very colorful message detailing exactly what Helmut could do with his money. You didn’t want it. In fact, you found the idea to be insulting.
“If he wanted me to be his partner, he should have stayed instead of treating our relationship like some sort of business transaction!”
Unwilling to stay in the Italian estate for any longer than strictly necessary, you called a taxi in the middle of the night and made the arduous journey to the nearest city. Eventually, you arrived in Venice where you stayed an entire week.
You booked travel west and spent another few days in Milan.
Oeznik had an easy time monitoring you, and Helmut suspected he enjoyed the chance to visit a few quiet cities with little urgency. But it seemed two weeks was where his patience ran thin.
After another few days of meandering, Oeznik, who you had been more than a little surprised to see, managed to sit you down and convince you to overlook the paperwork.
Helmut wasn’t sure what he could have said to make you agree—likely something to do with taking the money, if only out of spite or something more sentimental, invoking your fondness for Carl and Heike—but you agreed.
When you finally returned home and Oeznik reported you intended to remain there, Helmut hired Anežka, Oeznik’s great-niece, to keep you company. She was a sweet-tempered young woman who once shot a bullet between the eyes of a rampaging boar somewhere east of Siberia—allegedly.
Nevertheless, he trusted her to watch over you and focused fully on his mission.
*
News of the Avengers causing havoc in Lagos broke out and you weren’t there to discuss the headline or the harsher implications of their actions. (‘Think about the demographics of the area,’ he imagined you would say. ‘Of course they think they can just waltz in and do what they want. It’s like Johannesburg all over again.’)
He found Vasily Karpov in a sleepy suburb of Cleveland, Ohio, and traveled there to find him. You weren't there to greet him upon his return.
He booked a room in Vienna. You weren't there to eat breakfast beside him.
He enacted his scheme. You weren't there to intervene.
*
When it was over and he was caught, the joint terrorism task force transferred Helmut to a high-security prison in Berlin, where he toiled in boredom and misery.
He deserved it, of course, but the hell of sitting with his memories and reflecting on his regrets was unbelievably tiring.
He’d been in prison for nearly a week before he received any communication from the world outside.
It was a money transfer notice.
Eigengeld, the notice said, showing that the money was transferred to a private funds account.
He received the same notification two weeks later.
Helmut used his money to purchase books, deciding to brush up on his Russian by reading classic poetry. He then obtained a small radio and other odds and ends meant to make his cell more accommodating.
Every two weeks he received the same notice, nothing more and nothing less.
Every month he received a letter from Oeznik, though they functioned more as simple reports about your welling, the status of his assets, observations on the world, and such.
Then, after about a month and a half of imprisonment, he received a parcel in the mail; a thick book sent directly from a local seller about Anger and Grief.
He recognized the title; you had the same book, albeit an earlier edition, on your desk in your bedroom. It was easy for him to imagine you there, sitting on your bed, doing the work to unpack all your feelings—you wanted him to do the work too.
You hadn’t given up on him; you didn’t think he was too far gone.
He opened up to the table of contents.
*
He received a second parcel three weeks later.
This time you sent him a treatise on Contemporary Arts and a book about Rococo Architecture.
He understood the intent of the first one well enough; you wanted him to develop a greater appreciation for contemporary art. But the second? You were clearly just teasing him. He hated Rococo Architecture.
A third parcel came three weeks after that and it contained a book more aligned with his tastes, Fortuna ist ein reissender Fluß, Fortune is a River. He assumed it was an apology for the two before.
And so it went on; every few weeks he received something new—but then one day you sent him a letter:
‘Dear Helmut,’
Oeznik, Anežka, and I visited the Sokovian memorial together. I laid flowers for you, Carl, Heike, and Heinrich. I laid them right beside the flowers I brought for Dominik and my father-in-law...’
You told him that the land was set to be divided by neighboring countries, cannibalized before it was even clear of rubble. You mentioned donating money to charity, visiting his other estates at Oeznik’s behest, and working on art.
You drew a sketch of the memorial on the back of the letter but never mentioned what happened between you, only that you're well and wished for him the same.
He wrote you back, thanking you for laying flowers for his family, and didn’t expect to hear from you again.
So when the next parcel you sent was accompanied by another letter.
You asked about the books and his thoughts about them.
Your tone was perfectly cordial, perfectly polite, but there was clearly a sense of distance there. You told him of a book you read by a man named Garth Risk Hallberg. You complained it was about 400 pages too long but something about it stuck out to you, a quotes:
'And why love things you were destined to lose? Why let yourself feel things if the feelings were doomed to die?'
Helmut was far too smart to trick himself into believing your words weren’t meant to stir something within his heart, that they weren’t a clever admission of your true feelings. However, he was also too cautious to remark recklessly.
So in his reply, he mentioned a book as well, Il Principe, and he quoted Machiavelli's view of love:
‘...love is preserved by the link of obligation which, owing to the baseness of men, is broken at every opportunity for their advantage.’
You shouldn't love him, he thought, not after he broke your heart to achieve his own ends. You disagreed.
"Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom." You wrote, followed by a snippy, 'Shakespeare had a better view of love than Machiavelli.’
The quote was from Sonnet 116. (You sent him a book of sonnets shortly after that.)
The sonnet spoke of what love was, what it meant to love a partner for who they were, accepting their changes and their flaws, and welcoming all the obstacles of love.
Helmut wasn't presumptuous enough to believe you could ever come to love him so fully, but wasn't love at all a start?
Neither of you wrote 'I love you,' at least not directly. Had he said it, he knew something, that thing inside of him, that thing that always held him back from you, would finally break.
But little by little you opened up to him again, using your shared love of literature to express your true feelings.
Oeznik continued to send his reports as well—one every month—to check up and keep him informed.
*
Roughly two years after his sentencing, something changed. News reported some sort of invasion in New York City, then another similar incident over Wakandan Airspace. And then, suddenly, there was a panic in the prison. People turned to dust and vanish all over the world.
And he worried.
Mail delivery was in complete and utter disarray. It took about eight weeks to receive word from you. For eight weeks he was alone, trapped in a vicious cycle of fear and doubt, just like the days he spent digging for his family in the rubble of his father’s home.
He contemplated an escape, planned for every contingency, and wondered what he'd do if he found your house cold and empty. Could he handle that pain? Could he stand to lose whatever shred of hope he had left?
And what if you came looking for him? What if you came, and he wasn’t there?
He contemplated all of those things and as he did so, your letters came.
When the guard appeared before his cell, they handed him a bundle of them, each more desperate and hasty than the last.
You survived the decimation. You were alright. But Anežka and Oeznik were gone. You were so sorry, so scared.
Captain America made a speech on television that assured everyone that no one else would disappear, but you didn’t believe him. You didn’t even know if your letters would reach him; you didn’t know if he was gone too but you would keep writing until someone told you otherwise.
You attempted to call the prison; you visited the gate; you did everything in your power to see him and the moment you received news that he, too, had survived, you cried.
The emotions he felt were bittersweet.
You were alive and well; he hadn’t lost you—but Oeznik was gone.
He wasn't misguided, Helmut knew that it would come to happen eventually, but he never expected it to be so sudden, didn’t expect it to happen like this. The old man had plenty of years left in him—he should have lived to reach 100 at least.
But with him gone, he’d lost his most loyal companion and confidant. With him gone, you were truly all he had left in the world.
As his next of kin, you tried to make an appeal for him to attend a memorial, but apparently, the death of 'a butler,’ as the officials described, wasn't an adequate reason to allow for prison leave.
He was simply too dangerous a criminal.
You shared a little poem with him in one of your letters, something about being still and staying in place. You didn’t want him to escape his prison cell. With the world in such disarray, so many places descended into martial law. If anyone saw him, they’d likely shoot on sight. You didn’t want to risk that, and he wouldn’t make you worry.
You encouraged him to open up about his feelings, so in his grief, he turned to you.
*
Time passed.
*
Time passed.
*
Time passed.
*
All his time alone gave him the chance to work through his grief, come to peace with what happened to his family, and reconcile his feelings. The rage was still there. It hadn’t gone away, but it was less of a bullet and more of an ache.
He still worried for you, of course, but life moved on and you coped; You wanted to help, wanted to ease the devastation left in the decimation’s wake.
‘I feel like nothing I do is enough,’ You wrote. And you felt as though you were living through the fall of Sokovia all over again. He suggested you try a change of scenery, to go somewhere new to gain a better understanding of how the world was now shaped.
So you visited New York City. Your letters took more time to arrive when you were away, but you mentioned having met a young journalist there, a man with an interest in art. He had a friend who you claimed looked exactly like him.
'If you grew a beard,' you wrote, 'you'd be twins.' He highly doubted that.
Despite your insistence that he was simply a friendly acquaintance, Helmut assumed you developed a liking toward the man.
He tried not to let the idea bother him—you deserved to live a life of happiness, a life not shackled to him—but he loved you, and you loved him.
He may not have had a name for what you were to each other, but when you reported having returned home without incident (or new romantic prospects) he felt relieved.
*
Years went by.
Your bond grew stronger.
And then the world changed once again one day.
You were making tea in the kitchen when Anežka appeared right before your eyes.
'It was as though her body pieced itself back together.' You described. 'She doesn't remember what happened, neither does Oeznik. It's like time didn't pass for them at all.’
They called what happened ‘The Blip’ to describe the experience. Helmut thought it was a ridiculous name.
But the sudden reappearance of the people that vanished threw the world into chaos once again. There was so much chaos, in fact, that James Buchanan Barnes appeared before him a few much later.
(Apparently, he thought with some resentment, those affiliated with the Avengers could visit him but not his next-of-kin.)
*
Helmut’s last letter wasn't quite a letter at all.
He arranged for a parcel to be sent to you: waffles and a bouquet of your favorite flowers. He then asked Oeznik to send you a message.
He was coming home to see you, to be with you at last.
***
When Oeznik calls to tell him that the car is ready, you’re standing in the kitchen engrossed in a lively conversation with Sam.
You decided it would be nice to send them off with snacks, which somehow lead to a deeper conversation about your love of Beignets, the connection between food and culture, and the ingredients needed for Crawfish Étouffée.
Helmut isn’t sure he likes how funny you think Sam is, but he ignores that part of himself as he stands beside you, tracing circles into the palm of your hand.
James stands behind Sam, looking as sullen as a cat in the rain, but Helmut made the conscious choice to ignore that as well.
“It seems our car has arrived,” he cuts in, gently squeezing your hand. James stands at full attention and Sam nods his head. They’re ready to return to the mission.
“Helmut,” you turn your attention to him fully, “Could you hang back a minute. I promise it won’t take long.” You look between Sam and James. “I just need to give him something.”
“Yeah,” Sam nods, gesturing James toward the door. “Thanks for everything and hey—if ever you’re in the neighborhood come down to the restaurant, we’ll set you up straight.”
You wave him off with a smile, agreeing to do just that as James gives you a polite nod of acknowledgment
“Thanks.”
“Adiós,” you call to them, waiting for the two to shut the door.
“I’m almost sad to see them leave…”
“Really?” He raised a brow.
“Almost,” you repeat, taking both his hands in yours. “But I’m glad I got to see you again, Helmut — even if it was just for a while.”
“As am I.” You stare at each other, allowing the moment to settle around you. There was so much left to say and so little time to say it.
"I...I have something for you. Not...not a present but something I want you to keep." You slide your hands away from his take a folded envelope from your pocket. The paper inside is worn, but the letter is addressed to him, dating back to the spring of 2016.
"It's the first letter I was going to send to you but...I couldn’t. But I want you to have it now—just don't read it until you're gone."
"Thank you," He says after a moment. "I'll treasure it." And he would. He’d keep your words close to his heart.
"I wanted you to know I understood what you thought you had to do...that I forgave you and…" Your voice waivers but you continue, desperately trying to hold yourself together. "I just wish we had more time."
"I know." Helmut wrapped you in his arms and you remained there, your face buried in his shoulder.
“I must go now,” he tells you. You don’t let him go. You won’t.
Helmut presses a kiss to the top of your head with a chuckle. “Come now драга, it’ll be alright.” He pulls you back by the shoulders, looks into your eyes. “You’ve been so wonderful to me. I can’t envision a better friend.” Helmut leans forward, presses his forehead against your own, and enjoys one last moment of tender affection. It was a moment where words felt insufficient, where nothing else needed to be said except for maybe, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” You whisper, and your words fill his heart with a strange new light.
But then someone—probably James—knocks on the door three times. A muffled argument between his companions begins outside the door, and Helmut sighs.
It’ll be a long trip to Latvia.
“Take care of yourself,” you tell him, “and don’t make any more trouble.”
“Trouble?” He asks innocently enough, as though he would never dream of doing such a thing. You roll your eyes and follow him to the door.
For a moment he considers running. Of taking your hand and leading you out through the back door. He could run away with you—but then he would never achieve his mission. And he couldn’t allow Super Soldiers to exist.
So he steeled his resolve and reached toward the door.
“Wait!” You reach for his hand.
He didn’t want to make this harder than it had to be, but he needed to listen to what you had to say.
“What is it?”
You take a breath as if to prepare yourself for something. “... Can I... Can we... Can I kiss you?” His heart aches. Helmut struggles to find an answer. But perhaps he was simply overthinking it. Perhaps there was nothing left to say.
So he nods. You take a step closer.
You move as though you’ve thought of this before; you place your hands on his chest, tilt your face upward, and press your lips against his gently.
It was a chaste kiss, a quick one that evoked the feeling of finding shelter in the rain.
You pull away, no doubt prepared to say something, but Helmut takes hold of your waist and pulls your body against him. The love between you grows into a burning flame as he kisses you, again and again, to help quench it.
Your lips part, your tongues meet, you run your fingers through his hair, but it only makes him hotter, hungrier, burning for something more. “Thank you for taking care of me, Helmut.” Your breath is heavy, and it mingles with his own when you part from him.
“I want you to be happy, драга,” Helmut confesses, voice low, accent thicker. “I am sorry to have caused you distress-”
“Stop it.” You cup his face between your hands. “You gave me everything you could.”
He kisses you again, and it’s fervent and zealous, it’s desperate in the way all final things are.
Another knock sounds unkindly at the door.
There’s no more time to be together—but you share another kiss anyway.
“Goodbye, my love.” He whispers on your lips because he knows that this is the end, that he may never see you again.
“Goodbye.” You step back, releasing your hold at last.
You open the door and he steps outside.
“Gentleman,” Helmut greets the others nonchalantly, as though he weren’t moments away from delaying the mission in favor of sharing something even more personal with you.
The sun is high in the sky, but the weather is deceptively chilly.
“What were you doing in there?” James asks, his voice full of unfounded accusations.
“Come on, Buck.” Sam shakes his head. He lets out a loud, exasperated sigh and starts toward the car.
“What?” James follows Sam toward the car, annoyed he must defend himself from some implied accusation.
“I was merely bidding farewell to my dear companion, of course,” Helmut answers truthfully, sending a mischievous little wink your way.
"Cuídate!" You call after them. Take care.
Helmut takes a last look at the home you once shared, one last look at you as you watch him from the doorway.
He loves you, which is the reason he has to leave. He would put an end to Karli and her acolytes to make the world a safer place. No one, not the Avengers or these ‘Flag Smashers’ endanger the world once again. He would put a bullet to each of them himself if it meant keeping you safe.
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sgiandubh · 1 year ago
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"He's actually paying those PR people? Whatever for? A drunk wombat would be better at the task." I LOL'd because my god have we been asking this very question of both Sam and Cait for years. They're PR is actually the worst. It's honestly hard to believe at times. Absolutely zero idea who either of them are trying to reach. The recalibrating after that VF disaster sent Cait into hiding, I'm not sure she's done another print interview since Belfast promo ended and if the Sam articles are going to continue on this way, he can quit too. Boring.
Dear Quit Anon,
I am flattered I managed to bring a smile or even a LOL, but I am not particularly glad about it. Unlike droves of people who think this PR shitshow is sad, I actually find it mystifying.
You are right. Goddess C went into occultation after that cursed VF interview. There are clear reasons, I think, for that. Also, please take into account the fact that, despite the illusions peddled by some fuckwits in this fandom, there are many things we simply do not know (nor should we, most probably).
As for S, I guess that ever since she went totally MIA (as I said, make-up and fash-un promo don't really compensate), he is overexposing himself. On purpose. Perhaps to protect her (I think so). Certainly to hide something. Since this is no way in hell about being gay (I will die on that hill and I know I am right), the only thing he could hide is well... I don't really need to draw it, do I?
Smoke and mirrors is always a risky strategy. S simply hasn't got what it takes to play that game long term, probably for the same reasons he was never a serious shortlist candidate for Bond. At this point in time, he'd mechanically go with whatever merde du jour is thrown by his imbecile PR on the table. Still, it's high time he'd seriously pull himself together. He can do better, as I wrote in a comment: he can do NYT and he did it very well, recently. And I was glad to see that. But Metro is just disappointing, clueless and tasteless. And it's padding up a press portfolio with amiable, meaningless bullshit that goes nowhere. Or at least nowhere near he wants to be or see himself in, let's say, five years from now.
OL is going to end. It has to. It's been both a blessing and a curse, I said that before. Then, it will be high time to end the fucking Truman Show. He (abstractly) knows that, he keeps hinting about it. “I’m ready for new challenges, but also nervous about what it’s like in the real world” - for some reason, I found this phrase very telling. But I doubt he internalized what probably still feels like a safely remote occurrence, right now.
What are his real projects? For the moment, zero. Directing? I'd love to see it, but he's got no real credentials for that. Bond? I mean, publicly gushing and insisting is not going to manifest it. He needs a real movie, a good one to break that glass ceiling. Is he going to get it? I hope so. But his personal brand awareness is still low. The PR clowns should stop talking to us, in here: we are already here and not going anywhere. All of us: antis, mommies, shippers, fencers, haters, trolls. They should talk to the people who have no clue who S is, and do it differently. He should step out of his comfort zone, ditch the leeches and refuse to discuss his personal life, for a while. There, I said it.
What are her real projects? For the moment, not much. Sure, we have The Cut, where I gather her part is minimalistic, to be kind. We also have The Amateur, of which very little is known at the moment. However, if I am correct, she is not one of the leads. Enough said. And beyond that? Crickets.
Make no mistake. The real litmus test is not now. The real litmus test is 2025. And then we'll see. And I'll still be here, taking weeping Anons because I don't know who said I don't know what I don't know where. Mark me.
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dawdlingbiscuit · 3 years ago
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Liz(zington) ‘explained’....by Liz Keen
Just a little part of a fic I wrote in 2013 about the laws of attraction. Based on what we were shown so far, mixed in with some amateur psychology. For me things could have gone either way: it was the enigma that kept me watching and I’ll probably continue through s 9. But please.....let that be the last season: it’s getting way to complicated to keep up....
__________________________
Extract from: The Bad Seed
“Is that what you would like to hear?”  Liz asked, voice perfectly calm and under control. “That I hate you?”
With a spark of renewed interest, Reddington tore himself away from his favorite view to meet her piercing, penetrating gaze.
“The truth will do.”
“Like the truths you have been dishing out, to scare me off with your little games?
“You’re still here aren’t you?” He actually seemed surprised she was, but pleased nonetheless, her cheeks a little rosier, a new gleam dancing in her eyes.
“Your cruel games don’t just make feelings go away, Red. Yes, I am attracted to you and you should have taken into account the human factor before you started all this. It’s entirely your own fault.”
She ignored his indignant little laugh and grabbed the bottle from the table, popped the cork and poured herself some more liquid courage.
“Do you have any idea what you have done to me?” she asked, looking hard at him, trying to find the words to vocalize the jumble of feelings inside her. The grey eyes glittered back in a do tell-expression. “You come into my life and change everything I have ever lived for. You ruin my marriage…”
"I thought we had just established that you are the only one who can claim responsibility for that particular issue.” he cut her off, voice drier than Frederick’s brew, but she did not bite.
“You ruin my relationship with Tom, tell me all sorts of vague stories about my past, act as if you know me, make me a partner in your grand scheme to bring down the baddies of this world …… do you have any idea what this is doing to me?”
“I’m sorry Lizzy, I am doing this for a reason.”  A genuine apology. ”Please bear with me.”
She took a moment to control her temper which threatened to suffocate the words in her throat - resisted the urge to calm her nerves with more liquor. His placid tone of voice was infuriating. If he told her one more time to exert due diligence then she would strangle him with his Borelli tie.
“You are making it very hard for me to accept you as my guardian angel. Keeping me safe from harm? You have a funny understanding of this task, because since you came into my life, I’ve been shot at, beaten, tortured, nearly executed by your dear old friend Garrick, got thrown out of a moving ambulance and the prospect of disappearing from the face of the earth in a bathtub full of smelly chemicals really tops my list of all time favorites. And you have the nerve to tell me I can trust you and you will keep me safe?”
“I already humbly admitted to you and dear old Harold, that I am not perfect, Lizzy. I do try.”
“If you’re trying to ruin my life I must admit that you are doing one hell of a job.”
“I am not trying to ruin your life, although it may seem so to you. Please trust me when I say this.”
She glanced at his tie, toyed with her glass to calm down and continued with less of a cutting edge than he expected.
“Red, did you realize when you started all this that I would either hate you with a passion or fall in love with you?”
From the look on his face she concluded that he clearly hadn’t.
“You're all I have left.” There was nothing as powerful as the plain and simple truth.  “Sam is dead, my husband gone, my co-workers don’t trust me and Ressler probably thinks I’m sleeping with you. The only one I can rely on is you and you are the most unreliable person I have ever met.”
He seemed to take that as a compliment, but his expression changed when he saw that she was genuinely affected. He filled his glass with another four fingers and listened patiently, her words sobering him up, despite the refill that burned in his throat. Her tone was light and deceptive, camouflaging the tension building up inside from all the emotions she had suppressed in the last few months.
“Byronic bad boy, Svengali, Rasputin or whatever label you want to use, you’re it. And you are surprised that the object of your affection is attracted to you? When you keep looking at me in that funny way, putting me on a pedestal like I'm some sort of Joan of Arc with an FBI badge? What kind of effect did you think it would have on me when a man like you, legendary and larger than life, charismatic, enigmatic, dangerous and handsome, tells me with that weird look in his eyes that I am so very special to him? So special even, that he is willing to give his life for me at the drop of a hat.”
“I wasn’t aware I tend to look at you in a funny way. I’ll try to refrain from that in future.”
With another apologetic smile around his lips, he put down his drink and turned to her on the couch to give her his full attention. They had passed the joking stage.
“We both know what is going on, Lizzy.” He said, thoughtfully, picking his way carefully. Liz was being unusually frank with him and he suspected that the alcohol was only partly to blame. ” Don’t fall in love with a non existing dark secret, the flaws that make me human, my past that will undoubtedly explain why I do the bad things I do. Don’t try to heal me. I am not like that, Lizzy. I am a criminal. When all this is over, it will not be revealed that I am a heroic country loving spy who has been working undercover for over twenty years, sacrificing himself for God and country. I am not Robin Hood; I am in this business for me, myself and I alone. No heroics, no hidden agenda, I am what I have become; a criminal and I will never change into the man you would like me to be.”
“I know you are a criminal. “Liz said and threw his own words right back at him.”Criminals are notorious liars and you Red, are the epitome of all liars.”
“Well, liar or not, believe me when I say that I had never anticipated that you would fall in love with me.”
It suddenly felt weird having this conversation with him, yet there was no stopping now. It wasn’t that simple. Nothing about Raymond Reddington ever was.
“Let me enlighten you about human nature, Red – give you a tour of my psyche. When someone lifts you up, makes you feel special and constantly feeds you with little pieces of the puzzle of your life, little tidbits to keep you hooked: it creates a need. A need for more. Not just more of the same, because with that need comes greed and you want it all. It is as addictive as a drug and the craving for more makes me an addict: it is all I have left to live for and I keep running back to you for more.”
The words spoken gently but deliberate, washed over Red and for the umpteenth time he regretted his decision to involve Elizabeth Keen in his life.
“I didn’t fall in love with you, Red, because I don’t even know you. I am attracted to you. I need you. There’s a difference. Love has nothing to do with it. And it’s not the reason why you are creating this distance, not the reason for warning me off. It’s not me that is the problem here; it’s you.”
There it was again - the sudden flicker of pain in his eyes, giving him away. She was on the right track.
He put down his drink and stood. Until this moment it had all been a game, a little exciting, a little dangerous; but Reddington did not permit himself many potentially risky games with this particular player. She was too important. And he was no longer in control.
“It’s late.” he said in a tone that clearly indicated that the conversation was over. “We both had more than our share of drinks. I’ll wake up Demby so he can drive you home.”
She looked up at him, her shrewd gaze appraising him. She had crossed the line in the sand and he was annoyed with himself that he didn’t see it coming.
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lnarizakis · 4 years ago
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SAM HIT 1K !
hey, everyone! a few days ago i hit 1k followers and i’m so excited to share with you all this news! it’s been six months of writing, posting, and making new friends, and i’ve recognized the results of all of my efforts. thank you to everyone who’s been with me on this journey, even if i met you in march, or just yesterday!
i acknowledge that in the past i’ve been selfish and self-conscious about that number, but everyday i’m grateful that i have a growing number of people who have my back, supporting me, even if it’s through a simple like or even an anonymous ask telling me they really enjoyed a particular work of mine.
and, with everything you do in life, you encounter people who will support you, make your life better, and just know how to help you up when you’ve fallen: friends. that being said, i want to write a letter to all the friends i’ve made on here since i don’t know when i’ll be able to get the next chance to . . .
TRIS , i remember seeing you appear in the comments of almost all of my posts and i just want to thank you personally for always supporting what i have. you don’t realize how much every little comment means to me, really! it always puts a smile on my face to see you comment something and it feels like i’ve accomplished something, so thank you. @tris-does-stuff
HANA , you really don’t know how happy you’ve made me when you told me you were a fan of mine. it just... shocked me? to know that i have people out there that genuinely support what i do? we only really started talking for a couple of days but i feel a strong connection between the two of us (it really may be our matching mbti types, too!) and i’m so glad to be able to call you my friend. you didn’t hear this from me, but i constantly look back at the #anon makes me happy tag and read through those anonymous messages you sent me. i love them (and you) very much! @wansseul
ELLIOT , i know you as one of my biggest supporters for coaches don’t play, and i find that really heartwarming to see that even after, what, two months since i’ve updated, you reblogged it with the tag #thank you for updating! ! i was so happy to see that, and you even proceeded to send in an ask about it afterwards too! i know we don’t really talk often—but i definitely think we should— but i know that you’re so incredibly sweet, especially after i was having that rough slump of mine i think last month. you were so kind to tell me that you’d always be here if i need to talk with someone, so thank you very much. i’m very grateful to have met you! @keiyoomi
JJ , hey, jj!!! i know we haven’t talked in a hot second, but look! i’ve reached 1k followers! i remember you were around during my coaches don’t play days, and that you always sent an ask after almost every update. sometimes i fiind myself looking back at them and smiling, knowing that you were enjoying what i wrote, so thank you very much! i want to say another thank you for being there for me when i was feeling really down in the dumps, and for taking the time out of your day to write me a message on discord. i’m so grateful that you did so, and i hope life treats you well. also! i began reading the great gatsby for school, so we should talk about it sometime hehehe. @kunimwuah
DOVE , aka uvogin anon, dovey lovey, my favorite inbox invader! i . honestly don’t know how we met. like one day u just appeared in my inbox and BAM ! we started talking! and i don’t regret every single thing i send into your inbox (even beany cock) . i always look forward to whenever you send things in my inbox and i really mean it when i say you’re my favorite inbox invader >:) it makes me so happy to see you active on tumblr and to see what you bring me everyday. i am very grateful you’re in my life, and i hope we continue to talk more and more! @fantasiesofdreams
SAL , i remember the first time i talked with you! you liked one of my posts and i was like oh she seems cool, i’m gonna follow her and congratulate her on 400 followers. and soon enough, we started tagging each other in those tag games and later we just grew closer and closer! i’m so happy that we got really close and it always brightens my day to see you on my dash; you never fail to put a smile on my face. thank you so much for being my friend and always being there when i need a good laugh! @sugaanoya
AI , ai, ai love you! i remember following you for your “be my boyfriend” series, and i hope it continues on your new blog (no promises, of course!). i also was there during your blank kita era, and it was honestly something that made me laugh out loud. i’m pretty sure i turned on notifications for you at that point because i was so invested with this drama. you’re just an insanely nice person whose kindness rivals your love for suna (or is it sakusa? your disloyalty, tsk... just kidding!!!). i know that we haven’t talked a whole lot lately but i will be sure to hop in your inbox and stay for a while some time soon. thank you so much for being my friend and i hope you stay happy and healthy! @wiintiier
KAI , aka caca wife! i remember when we started talking on rircus, and at first i didn’t really know who you were, until one fateful night when the conversation about caca happened. at that moment i knew we had similar senses of humor and i remember that i couldn’t stop laughing. it was the caca madness! if i’m being completely honest, i look up to you as a big sister that i’ve never had and i really appreciate you for that, so thank you for being in my life! @lcaita
NAOMI , aka newmie! i remember we first started talking in rircus and i want to thank you for welcoming me so kindly in the server, and especially during the first night we talked, which is when i had a problem and you helped me out immensely. i just want to say thank you for every time that you’ve helped me, talked to me, and made me feel better when i felt less than okay. i’m so glad that i’ve met you and i hope you accomplish great things in your life. @kuraomi
MICKIE , probably one of the only people on discord whose mesages i find myself laughing at a lot. you’re always brightening up the mood wherever you go, and i always find myself looking towards what you have to say today. thanks for that! i also think about that (may i say, really funny) exchange between the two of us on here when you went: “oh god i can’t believe HE’S almost dead ahhh” and i have no idea who you were talking about so i went “omg it’s sero,” and you went on this LONG RANT and it was just so funny to me!!! thanks for always putting a smile on my face. and also! thank you so, so much for suggesting that i get curtain bangs, a decision i really don’t regret! i was afraid i was going to hate them, but i find myself looking in the mirror a lot and thinking: “wow, that is a whole different person.” in a good way! so thank you very much. @tokyoghoose
GERE , aka my ex-wife... sorry about that :( . i never got to say sorry for that but the caca bond runs strong, i hope you understand. i just want you to know how much of a kind person you are, and especially how welcoming you are, too. i was so glad to be welcomed so kindly in your server and it’s become one of my favorites to talk in. i also want you to know, that especially with current times, that things will get better and i’m so glad you’re staying positive with everything going on recently. i love you for you, please remember that!!! @t-amajiki
ISSA , omg, girly pop. hahahaha!!! issa, you’re such a genuine person and i remember meeting you for the first time on rircus. you welcomed me with open arms and you were just the kindest person i met on there. you’re someone who’s just so beautiful inside and out, and the way you’re so large and in charge with your feelings is something i really admire about you. i know we don���t talk so often, but i hope we do. i want to thank you for being my friend, and especially always making me laugh! i love you very much, issa! @indigohitoshi
KYLIE , kylie!!!! the co-founder of our son, iwaizumi hajime. this was literally peak popularity and i knew i was never to get as many notifications as i did in that moment. of everyone i could have shared the account with, i am so glad that i was able to do it with you because we were able to grow closer because of that. now we have this weird inside joke that our son gets mad cooch, and that every day we must think of in another life. where are the daily in another life tiktoks??? of course, our son isn’t the only thing i associate with you. you’re such a kind, hilarious, and genuine person, and to be honest, sometimes i really worry for your wellbeing. get some more sleep, kyl!!! you deserve it. i want you to be grucchi, not tired and wanting to die. thank you so, so much for being my friend, and i am so happy that i met you! @peppermintkiddo
TO, LIKE, EVERYONE FROM RIRCUS , the best people i could ever meet. i’m sorry i couldn’t write an individual letter to all of you, since we haven’t interacted so often for me to pick out one specific memory that i could hold and cherish, but know that every time i come on rircus and talk with you, it is a moment that i will always remember! thank you so much for being my friends and i love you all so, so incredibly much. @kaoyuuuuu @reogou @haikyuu-but-low-iq @yooooooooooomi @samdwich @kenmauwus @shirasusgf @macaronnv @king-kawa
TO EVERYONE THAT CONSTANTLY LIKES, REBLOGS, OR COMMENTS ON MY WORK , you know who you are. i know who you are. i can literally tag you right now. but i think i’ll prefer to keep the anonymity. thank you so much for sharing my work, giving me feedback, and everything. it mean so much to me, especially if there’s a comment attached to the reblog. you make me do a little happy dance!!! i love you so much for what you do and i hope you continue to support me in every way possible!
FOR PEOPLE THAT I MISS/PROBABLY WON’T READ THIS
MEL , hi mel! i’m not very sure if you will read this, but i am so happy that i met you and that we began talking. i remember we began talking after i asked for people to send in memes for that meme war against my sister. i told you i won, right? well, i did. ahhaha anyways, i am very sad that we sort of grew apart and i hope that we can begin talking again soon. you were the highlight of my spring semester. i enjoyed talking with you so much. but i hope that you and your family are currently doing well and that you stay happy and healthy! i miss you very much, melon, thank you for being a part of my life!
RAENAH , hi rae! i think meeting you was a blessing, to be honest. i can’t remember a time when i was utterly annoyed by your presence, nor was i ever mad with you. you are such a kind person with such a pure heart, and during your time on tumblr you really showcased it for everyone to see. you were literally with me from literally the very beginning, during the “my name is...” days, and all i can say is that i am blessed to have met you! thank you so much for lighting up my life, talking to me whenever you made the time, and especially playing minecraft with me. it was so fun, even if it was for a short while. i hope you had as much fun as i had! again, thank you so much for supporting, befriending, and getting to know me because i will never forget you on tumblr dot com. i hope you stay well and make sure you rest often, especially with uni! @a-kaashi
MIYU , where has miyu gone? just kidding. i know you’re there. i hope you read this because i don’t want to tag your new blog. anyways, i just want you to know you make my dash ten times better. it’s literally so boring without you spicing it up, with you talking with anons and your mutuals. i definitely think i should invade your inbox more, what do you think? when i was starting on tumblr, you were a very big inspiration to me and i am very proud of all the works you write. you still are someone i look up to as a writer, because you have such a creative spirit and it makes me so happy you’re able to showcase it for everyone to see. i hope you are staying healthy and well right now, and thank you so much for being my friend!
GIGI , poop. i genuinely miss you very much, but i know that school takes a priority for you. i hope you’re doing well with your classes and that you find the man of your dreams. hopefully it is not the skater boy because you deserve someone as insanely hot as kurapika. no cap. i remember during my chrollo pfp guy craze you were there to deter me away from liking him, but let me just tell you, we’re getting closer tbh. ;) . just kidding, we really aren’t, but we’ve been talking quite a bit. i also want to tell you that you’re someone who’s made me smile with everything you say, and i find myself sometimes typing the way you do. you’re an influence, gigi! please stay happy and healthy and make sure you get lots of rest during your time at school! @gigiwrite
MARS , best for last, am i right? i’m not really sure when i first saw you on my blog, but i remember you’ve been here for a very, very long time. i think it was back in july when we first started talking. you were 🦊 anon, and it made me so happy to read that you felt comfortable enough to reveal yourself! from there, i knew we had a bond from the way we interacted with one another. you’re just such a kind person and you show that to everyone you meet. it’s a quality i wish i had in myself and i really look up to you for your genuinity. sometimes i feel like i don’t thank you enough for how kind you are to me, but just know that with every time i talk i’m always grateful that you’re in my life and that i’ve met you. i know you’re someone i can always lean on and i hope you see me the same. thank you so much for being in my life; you’re someone who means a lot to me. @maru5hka
TO BASICALLY EVERYONE HERE
THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR 1K!!!! YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME. i am so grateful for each and every one of you; you guys are so hot and sexy. i am so grateful to have met you all, even if it was just a simple “you’re added to the taglist!” or a “thank you so much!” i count it as you being my friend and you interacting with me. you guys aren’t my followers; you’re my friends. thank you so much for being my friend and being here for all of my weird shenanigans i have up my sleeve, whether it be my meme war against my sister, my obsession for blue lock, and my huge crush on chrollo pfp guy. well, here’s to me for being sappy and here’s to many more!
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little-red-toyota · 3 years ago
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Final good bye to the fandom
TW//Trauma, triggers, nsfw, sexual themes, rape, domestic abuse e.g.
This is gonna be a long ass post…
It has taken me a while to get emotionally strong enough to do this, as I will have to think back at some traumatic events from my past to address some of these things. That's why I waited until I got home from vacation with my family, as it will seriously affect my mood and mental health, and I want to be near my doctor and therapist, just in case.
And also, I know that the majority of those reading this will invalidate me and tell me I am making things up to clear my name. So, I literally have to torment myself to write a blog post people will just brush off as bogus anyway. But I will do it now that I am in safe surroundings. Then it will be off my chest, and I can finally move on. If people will continue stirring up the past, it will be their problem, not mine.
I think I should write one last blog post where I address everything. I have left the TTTE-fandom, but I will write that one as my final goodbye to the fandom. I just have to find out everything I've been accused of so I can properly address them all in order. I might leave out details of my life that is too hard for me to open up about. I know most of you will just invalidate me anyway.
1. The Stepney fic and glorifying rape.
2. My mafia-AU.
3. The Darin incident.
4. Being a pedophile. (Where do they get this from anyway??)
5. Running the NSFW-blog.
6. Drawing penises/boobs on trains. Drawing age-regression art.
Is there more?
Ah... yes! Faking my own suicide, of course!
7. "Faking" being suicidal.
8. Having the audacity to survive and go on living.
9. "Making up" my past trauma to justify writing fics to cope with it.
10. Being a nazi for being interested in WW2 history and for being Norwegian and having so-called nazi-letters in my last name (actual letters of the Norwegian alphabet).
11. Putting a white-supremacist flag (the actual flag of Norway) on my porch on family birthdays and our national day.
12. Being a danger to my daughter.
Anything else that needs to be addressed? What else am I being accused of? Send me a dm and I will add it to the post.
 Okay, I will bump the Stepney fic down a bit as it is the most traumatic thing for me to address, I will save that one for last.
2 and 3. The dark au/mafia au where I gave some TTTE characters some rather dark and unpleasant character traits, and the whole incident with Darin and the pedo-Salty was addressed in this blog post written by my husband last year, so I am not opening that can of worms again: https://little-red-toyota.tumblr.com/post/623743183795470336/in-light-of-recent-events
Even the thing about Toby cheating on Henrietta is addressed there.
As for the au, I never fully explored it as I started losing interest in TTTE around the same time. I found other things to enjoy and TTTE faded into the background and the au was dropped before I even wrote any stories, apart from the one about Toby and Henrietta.
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Some people claim, like this lovely individual, that most of the characters were rapists and pedos. No, not most. Only one of each. And I did not write more than one story about rape and suicide. Where does this person even get that from? Someone who told someone who had heard from someone who might have heard….?
Don't spread rumors unless you are sure that they are true.
Anyway, it's all addressed in that blog post in that link. I don't see how this mafia au is any worse than other dark post-apocalyptic or violent aus. It mostly was about the diesel mafia and their illegal businesses, not about sex, even if it did occur now and then. I find the substance abuse in it to be more problematic tbh…  
 4. Being a pedophile.
I don't even know how to defend myself against this one, as I don't even know why people think I am pedophile. They only throw the accusation out with no backing evidence, so I have no idea where it comes from or what it is that makes people think I am one.
Apart from one claim that I had faved "porn" alongside "strangers'" baby photos on DA. I addressed that earlier though. As DeviantArt doesn't sort what you click "like" on, it all ends up in the same folder unless you actively go through it and sort it into categories, which I don't bother most of the time. It also doesn't say WHEN it was added to your faves. So, I can have faved an artistic nude on Saturday, and then faved my friend's family photo on Thursday. It's not like I actively search for porn, get all steamed up and then look at pictures of children. WTF.
The few children I have faved are not from complete strangers, but long-term friends of mine. Yes, it is possible to have friends on the same website. I have actually met a lot of my RL friends through DeviantArt. I posted photos of my daughter when she was a baby, they would fave it and congratulate me. So, I did the same when they had a baby. As simple as that. Nothing weird or perverted about it. Due to people doxxing me last year however, I deleted the photos of me, my husband and my daughter from DeviantArt, so it's no longer there.
Porn isn't allowed on DeviantArt anyway. The nudes there are so-called artistic nudes, and for the most part I use them as pose-references when I draw as it is easier to draw a pose using a nude base and then dress them up once you got the pose right.
"The very naked" centaurs I have faved. Well, I like the mythological creature Centaur. And as far as I know… they do not wear clothes, so how are they NOT nude? Look it up, it's a horse body with a human torso instead of horse head. I don't see them as sexual, but what do I know? Maybe YOU do?
I have no sexual interest in children whatsoever.
 5. Running the NSFW-blog on Tumblr and Twitter.
Yes. I was one of six people modding that blog. ONE of six, so I refuse to take the full blame here.
MerciResolution has openly admitted to being the founder, and she recruited me and some others to modify as the confession load became too heavy for one person to handle alone.
The original blog on Tumblr worked as follows: People would anonymously send a confession to our askbox, we would add a picture (sometimes photoshopped) to the text and post it on the blog. Always tagged as NSFW and with proper trigger warnings if necessary! The blog itself was also marked as explicit, so it didn't appear in searches and such.
For us, this blog was nothing but a joke. We did it for shits and giggles. If anyone took it seriously and thought we got off to the stuff that was posted, we apologize for that, but to us it was just for laughs. And we DID laugh a lot, you guys should have seen the weird shit people sent us sometimes!
We had fun and we never thought anyone would take it seriously, so we never thought of writing "joke" in the description or anything. It never occurred to us that it could be anything but a joke.
We also made a Twitter account for it, also locked for minors. But it was quickly hacked, and someone changed the password so we could no longer access it. We made another account and forgot about the old one…
After a while, the original mods started losing interest and the blog (both on Tumblr and Twitter) became less active. That's when a person I had known for years, and wrongfully trusted, came forward and wanted to take over ownership. So, the ownership was handed over to Russalita/Charlie.
That turned out to be huge mistake!
Me and the other mods had more or less forgotten that the blogs existed, when suddenly someone started bashing me and getting up in my arms over it. I got seriously confused as I hadn't been active on it in almost a year. But as it turned out, Russalita had removed the mature filters and made the accounts open for all the see. Even minors.
And as people knew I was one of the mods, they fired their guns at me. I can see why though, so I'm not pointing any fingers here.
I tried contacting her by phone, asking her to lock the accounts again, but she gave me a less than polite response, hung up and then blocked my number…
So, I decided to try to shut the blogs down on my own, trying the old passwords. It worked on the Tumblr-account, and I managed to password protect it, for some reason it couldn't be fully deleted. But the Twitter account had gotten its password changed by Russalita. I was however able to get a new password by logging into the e-mail we had used to create it. I deleted the Twitter blog fully. It can't be re-activated even if we wanted to. It's gone.
But it turns out the old, hacked one is still up and now open for everyone. And this one poses a huge problem as we have no way of getting into it to delete it. Only thing we have been able to do so far is reporting it and hope it will be removed by Twitter. So I only have one thing to say about it: report it.
I am no longer running any NSFW TTTE blog anywhere, nor do I have interest in doing so. So, if you come across one, claiming to be me or any of the other mods, it is false.
 6. Drawing penises/boobs on trains. Drawing age-regression art.
People seem to believe I have drawn genitals on trains. I have never done such. Any art on the NSFW-blog with genitalia on the trains were sent in by confessors and was not drawn by me. Most of them seems to have been drawn by someone who goes by the name "The Lance".
I HAVE drawn things for the NSFW blog, but there were no genitalia in those drawings. I drew Frank of Arlesdale looking grossed out by (I don't know what the part is named in English, but it is connected to the brakes of the engine) that stick-like thing on his bufferbeam being wet from whatever the confessor did to him. I drew an over-exaggerated comical pic of a horrified Peter Sam getting his face licked by his driver, who had an enormous tongue. I also did a couple of manips. Mostly maniping engine faces on humans, like the one where Gordon's face is on a less than fit guy flailing his shirt around, and the Arlesdale smallies' faces on a movie poster from Magic Mike. One with Mr.Conductor in a giant bun while Pinchy is applying ketchup on him, for a confession about eating him, I think?  I've done some more, but I forgot what it was, I only know I loved making them comical rather than erotic, as I saw the blog as a joke overall.
I HAVE also drawn aheago faces on engines because it looks hilarious. Though I have only drawn them on my OCs and the NRS engines, not TTTE characters.
Point is I have never drawn genitalia on trains. Ever. And I likely never will. It's not THAT much fun drawing NSFW stuff.
I see from this screenshot that a certain MK-Instrumentalist claim that all my personal art is age-regression art and infantilism…
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Whose art have you been looking at? Because it's definitely not mine. I have drawn a couple of baby/chibi diesels… But claiming that all of my 700 or so artworks are depicting infantilism and age-regression stuff? I suggest people go have a look for themselves. I haven't drawn that. That MK-guy has been desperately trying to cancel me for ages for reasons only himself know. I don't even know the guy, and he doesn't know me, yet he wants to see me beheaded. Go figure.
I was for a long time bothered by some age-regressor on Tumblr who just wouldn't leave me alone with their weird asks, who tried to force themselves on me and some other artists here. They claim age-regression isn't a fetish, but the shit they sent to my askbox certainly looked like a fetish to me.
I don't want anything to do with that stuff. It weirds me out.
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And no. I have never drawn pedophilia or rape art either. This guy can't even make up his mind on which one to accuse me of.
 7 and 8. Faking suicide and having the audacity to survive and go on living.
As many know, after the intense shitstorm against me last summer, thanks to Darin, I attempted suicide. I didn't succeed as my husband came home early. I was gone for a few days but returned when a young boy reached out to me for help as he was being groomed and didn't know who else to turn to.
Recently I saw a screenshot where someone claimed me to have faked suicide, and that I just came back after a few days when everything had died down.
Wow.
I am truly sorry I survived.
I don't remember much from those days to be honest, but as the load became too heavy and the bullying too intense, piling up on 30 years of old trauma… I decided to end it. I must warn you guys who might get triggered now; there are detailed descriptions of a suicide attempt. Proceed with caution. People told me I was a bad mother among other things, having had those same thoughts myself (according to my husband, I am a good mom) and people just confirming them, I thought that my daughter would be better off growing up without me. I could have chosen a more effective suicide method, but I was afraid my daughter would be the first to find me, so I wanted it to be clean and look like I was just sleeping. That way it could be explained as natural causes.
So, I decided to overdose on pills. I downed all pills I could find in the house that had a warning triangle on it (strong pain meds etc.) and then went to my computer to delete my online existence, especially the personal data.
As a former paramedic, I should have known better. Because after half an hour, my body started reacting. But not the way I had hoped and wanted. I started retching and almost vomiting. That's when my husband came home from work and found me. He immediately saw the empty packages and knowing my past suicidal tendencies, he reacted instinctively. He put his fingers down my throat and had me puke everything up, then he called an ambulance and had me admitted to the hospital.
I don't remember anything from the days I spent there. But I have been told they emptied my stomach and gave me lots of fluids. I was then assigned a psychiatrist which I am still seeing today.
I was gone for those days because I was in hospital, not because I was pulling some kind of trick and pretending to have ended myself.
So… I am sorry I "faked" my suicide.
I'm sorry my husband saved me. I am sorry the medics and doctors succeeded in saving my life.
I am sorry I survived and proceeded to live on. If I ever make another attempt, I promise to do better.
Why are you guys so persistent in trying to push people to suicide anyway? Do you get a kick out of it? Why do people have to be pushed to that point before you care?
What did we tell our daughter? Simply that I got sick and had to go to the hospital. She took that well.
I've seen a lot of people wonder why I am still around. Why shouldn't I? Does my daughter deserve to lose her mother over some online crap she doesn't even know about? I owe her to live and watch her grow up, to help her with her homework and whatever else a parent needs to do. I also owe my husband to stay by his side, like I promised him the day we got married. Even if I do not wish to live.
I'm sorry I survived, guys. Really, I am.
 9. "Making up" my past trauma to justify writing fics to cope with it. And 1. The Stepney fic and glorifying rape.
 First… why would anyone make up trauma? It's not like it's a competition to have the worst life, is it?
Sadly, I don't have to make up anything. My life HAS been rocky up until the birth of my daughter. I have been through so much trauma I couldn't even fathom it myself before my therapist listed it all up to me. Until then, I had just been casually talking to her about it, like I would talk about the weather. I didn't cry or get in touch with my emotions even once while telling everything, because I was taught from an early age to never complain, to suck it up and go on. So, no matter what people did to me, I would just smile and go on, even if it killed me inside. I did not want to show any sign of weakness, because then they would attack me. A habit I developed through years of being bullied in school. Never show feelings, just pretend nothing could hurt you, then they would eventually grow tired of it and stop.
Except they never did. They kept going through all my years at school. To such an extent, my boyfriend didn't dare to show himself hanging out with me out of fear of being bullied himself… And as we grew older, he would start cheating on me too. And I kept smiling…
My next boyfriend was a bit older than me, and while that didn't bother me, as we were both well over legal age, it bothered him. We only lasted one year before he bailed out and ditched me out of the blue via an sms.
The next guy… was the one who scarred me for life. Both physically and mentally. A charmer at first of course, until I was trapped. He was unemployed, so he moved in with me, and I paid for everything from food to phone bills. All while he was dating several women behind my back, calling various pay-phone services and in general acted like a manwhore. As I worked as an electrician (also being subject to massive bullying and sexual harassment at work), he would be jealous of all my co-workers and if I ever came home late or worked overtime, he accused me of cheating and was extremely violent about it. He would also isolate me from my friends and family, making me think I couldn't get any other than him. If any of my male friends (almost all my friends are male…) came over, he would give me such hell afterwards, it was easier just to tell them it was a bad time to visit. And after a while, they stopped asking. This guy also demanded sex. Every single day. If I refused, he would punish me, mostly by flogging me with lampcords, belts or whatever else he had at hand. My back is a criss cross map of old, faded scars even now nearly 20 years later. I would have shown you a photo, but I am so self-concious about my body after all the bullying, I hardly even show my face in photos. Maybe one day… but I certainly need more therapy before being able to show naked skin to strangers, even if it's just my back. So I had non-consensual sex with him more often than consensual. It has taken me hours in therapy to even take the word in my mouth and call it by its proper name: rape. I was raped, almost every single day for little over a year, before I found the strength to break out of the relationship and finally throw him out of my house. It all ended when I found some revealing texts on his cellphone, which he was extremely protective of… Texts that revealed that he had engaged in a relationship with a 12 year old girl, and it had been going on for a while. Not only was he cheating on me, but he was a pedophile too. Needless to say, I didn't even let him pack his stuff before I fetched my shotgun and chased him out of the house. I don't know where I got the courage and strength from… but I was furious.
I thought I had gotten rid of him, but no. He started stalking me in public. Hiding behind shelves when I was shopping, his car following mine everywhere I went. I received weird letters in the mail with cut-out letters from newspapers, glued together. On top of all, his creepy, old uncle called me with some rather disgusting suggestions and tried to come on to me really hard. I had to change my phone number, and after coming home to my house and finding out someone had entered my home using a key, only to empty the drawer of my night table, I also had to change the locks of my doors as he had clearly copied the key.
He didn't stop until I got the police involved.
So, when I finally met the guy who would become my husband (or rather, we found out we were made for each other, we had known each other since we were 11 years old), I had major trust issues towards men especially and it took him endless patience and love to break me out of that shell.
But the trauma doesn't stop… or start there.
In the year 2000, on January 4th, I would experience something that made me unable to even look at a train for over 10 years. The Åsta accident (google it). I was a volunteer in the Norwegian Red Cross then, and a paramedic in training. Back then, you were allowed to start training the year you would turn 16. So, I was still 15 when I witnessed the most traumatic event of my life. The day started out calm, we were stocking up the ambulance after delivering a patient to the hospital when we got a call with the code "500", which means "catastrophe". Normally when we get that code it is a rehearsal… so we drove towards the coordinates with the thoughts that this was just an exercise, nothing real… we didn't prepare ourselves mentally… And we ended up in the closest thing to hell I have ever been… The sight of the burning trains, the smells, the sounds, the screaming… I still wake up by nightmares to this day. Though the moment that haunts me the most is when the screaming stopped… because we all knew why… I don't want to go into details, but 19 people died that day. But we also saved 67 people. I try to hold on to that thought. The age limit for starting paramedic training was raised after this, as I wasn't the only one who was too young for an accident of that scale. Today it is 18. A memorial stone has been placed on the site, but I still haven't been able to bring myself to visit it, even if we drive past the site every year on our way to visit family further north in the country. I needed hours of therapy to even be able to ride a train after this. To have gotten to the point where I now volunteer at a heritage railway and is in training to become a driver, is a HUGE step for me. My next goal is to visit the site of the accident.
On to next trauma… A previous employer, a rather large electric company in Norway, whom I worked for 8 years. The first five years were great, we were a close-knit bunch of electricians, and we had a great relationship with the bosses and higher-ups. Our labor union was strong.
It all started changing in 2009 when we got new leaders… and those decided to get rid of everyone who were a member of the union. One by one, they started harassing workers in various ways, trying to get them to quit. In Norway, they need a legal reason to fire you, it's not enough to not like someone. There has to be a good reason to fire someone e.g. theft, neglecting work… Since they didn't have any reasons to fire us, they started making our work lives gradually harder and harder until we would break and find another job. Sadly, one of my co-workers couldn't stand the pressure… He bid us all farewell as normal one Friday and hung himself the following day.. But as I was a girl in a male-dominated profession, I had been taught at an early stage to ignore anything that would hurt me emotionally, just arch my neck and plow through. I kept doing that, despite starting to feel more and more mental and physical pains… even my co-workers pointed out how I was being mistreated before I acknowledged it myself. I tried to tell my boss, but he reacted by treating me worse. So, I went to his boss… and that's when things went to hell. Instead of doing his job and listen, he started harassing me too. He deemed my over-weight a problem, and he started demanding I gave him detailed lists of what I ate and how much I worked out… Completely illegal of course, but by this point I was broken down to the point I thought I was useless and couldn't get another job… so I accepted. He started accusing me of lying about my exercise, so I started training at the gym in the basement at work instead. One day, while I was there, he locked the doors and turned the lights off. There were no windows, no cellphone reception and hardly anyone walking by in that part of the building… I sat there in the pitch dark for 3 hours before I was let back out. I still get badly triggered by narrow, dark rooms and rooms with no windows. To such an extent, I jumped out of a small window on the second floor of a gym when I was in boot camp. I was allowed to train downstairs in the bigger gym with windows on all walls after that incident…
The harassment at work went on for years until I finally snapped, ended up at the hospital and got into therapy for the first time. I don't want to go into depth about what more happened, I just can't… I can't bring myself to write it all. Luckily, I had gotten more education while working, so when I graduated, another company called and gave me an offer I just couldn't refuse. So, I quit my job and never looked back, even if the traumas I suffered there still haunts me to this day.
Sadly, even after switching jobs, now getting a safe job with sane leaders… I started to relax, and that's when all my past trauma came washing over me. And one day, on while driving to work, I had my first serious panic attack. It started as this feeling I used to have at the old company; getting sick to my stomach and having the sense of someone being out to get me… then it developed to breathing problems… and I had to pull the car over. I broke into tears, struggling to breathe, stumbling out of the car to read the logo on its side just to reassure my body and brain that I worked for a different company now and there was no reason for panic. I called my boss and let him know, because he also was a "refugee" from that other company, so he knew what me and several others had gone through. He managed to talk me down enough for me to come to the office to talk to him. That helped.
I got back into therapy. A better therapist this time. But sadly, it got apparent that I could no longer work as an electrician as there was too many triggers. I was diagnosed with PTSD, severe depression, and social anxiety. I'm still working on these and get better slowly.
I have been in therapy for a long time now, and it was my therapist that suggested I wrote fics to cope and "write it out". I tried to make up my own characters for this, but never felt any connection. I was by this time in the TTTE fandom and had met people with similar trauma and pasts like myself, and I started roleplaying with some of them. Me and a girl from UK then agreed to try to rp/co-write a fic to cope with our trauma. We both found it easier to write about pre-established characters we had a connection to, even if it was an au that made it barely recognizable from the original source material. Only the names and some minor things were similar.
That fic was Stepney's Virginity Gets Lost.
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Do we regret writing it? No. It helped us write out our traumas and helped us overcome some mental obstacles in out therapy process. Our therapists cheering us on, because we finally managed to break through the hard shell surrounding us. We both cried for the first time in years while writing it, some of it through roleplay, because some parts were extremely graphic and brutal and very mentally exhausting. We had to take long breaks between each writing session, so the fic wasn't written in just a weekend. But we got a lot of darkness out of our minds by writing all this. And we were definitely NOT aroused by it, like this pervert here claims.
It's when you dare to touch and feel the difficult and dark emotions, you can finally move along in the grieving process.
Should it have been posted online?
In retrospect, no. But at the time, we thought it might help other trauma victims, as we also found reading about other people's experiences and fictions touching painful subjects helpful to ourselves. So, we posted it, never expecting it to cause such a controversy 3 years later. In fact, we had more or less forgotten about it until it came back to bit us in the ass. Or rather, bite ME in the ass, as I am getting the full blame alone.
Also, despite what people claim, it was not posted openly for children to read. It was tagged properly and hidden behind mature content walls. If a minor chooses to break that wall, that's not the author's fault. It's the same as watching a movie with an age restriction way above your age, not the filmmaker's fault.
I think MerciResolution puts it nicely here:
"If your problem lies with you KNOWINGLY entering adult spaces when you’re a minor, ignoring all mature warnings that are literally SCREAMING at you “hey, this is what you’re getting into. Are you sure you want to proceed?”
That’s ENTIRELY on you. YOU are the fucking problem.
We’re marking mature things as best as we properly can. If you decide to ignore them, that’s your own damn fault. We’re not your fucking babysitters."
Also, I never posted the story on Wattpad, so if anyone has done that, it's not me. I posted the story on Fanfiction.net, DeviantArt and AO3, that's all. If it's posted anywhere else, it's not done by me.
I had honestly moved on from it when people pulled me back into it.
Other people who have done questionable shit in that fandom are easily forgiven because "they have moved on" or "changed". Yet, nobody believes I can move on or change…?
I had moved on; my interests had changed. But people won't let me, so here I am… Having to defend some crap I did years ago. A fic I no longer have any interest in.
I'm not even interested in TTTE anymore. I have moved on with my own book project now and I would like to focus on that.
So, deleting my TTTE content, whether it was the SFW or NSFW stuff, didn't cost me a penny. It actually felt like a relief. The only downside with it is that people now can't read it and make up their own opinion about it, but will solely believe in what others say, and those things are often seriously bent out of shape and blown out of proportions to such an extent it's barely recognizable.
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If people claim that Arry and Bert rape Stepney in the fic, they have never seen it or read it. That's not what happens. That's just an assumption made by looking at the title and knowing there is a rape/torture scene in it. But I'm not gonna tell who the victim is or who performed it, because this is the only way I am able to tell who has actually read the fic or not, who is just trying to spread bullshit and who is actually telling the truth. The person in that screenshot, has no idea what he's talking about.
Does SVGL romanticize rape and abuse?
No, not in the least. It's described as the horrible, heinous acts it is and is in no way meant to be cute or romantic and definitely NOT something anyone should get off to. If anyone finds it sexy, that's their problem, not the authors'. If anything, SVGL might romanticize suicide, because one of the characters isn't able to cope with his trauma and chooses to end their life. Which is something I considered doing myself when I was in the darkest pit of depression. So, I apologize for maybe romanticizing suicide. The following chapters describe how friends and family handle the loss and grief.
It also describes a toxic relationship, where one of the parts struggles to get out of it. They eventually manage to break free, but it is not easy. This can easily be translated to my previously mentioned relationship, as it was my way of writing out my experience about how hard it is to break out of a relation when your partner has broken you down to the point where you no longer believe in yourself and your self-worth.
The last chapters start to gradually become brighter, as both our lives started getting better too. But we never really wrote the end because we both lost interest in writing TTTE content by that time and just left it hanging.
I'm not the only one who has written NSFW TTTE fanfics out there. But it seems like violence and murder is more acceptable than sexual things? I do wonder how brutally mutilating children's show characters are more tolerable than sexually abusing them. Neither should be okay.
Some content creators hide behind "it was a joke". I have been told that such topics that SVGL touches upon shouldn't be joked about… so I didn't do that, and yet it was wrong? So how should such topics be treated? Be hidden like it's a shame, like in the old days when rape victims were told to suck things up and keep it to themselves? When those subject to abuse didn't dare to speak up because people would judge them?
I think it is important to talk about these subjects and why they are so problematic. Victims shouldn't have to hide their trauma; they should be allowed to talk openly about it without fearing judgement.
Some of you claim that writing isn't a good way to cope… You're trying to dictate how trauma victims deal with their trauma, and that's a dangerous path to walk down. Nobody handles trauma the same way. You might have your thoughts on how you would react, but you'll never know until trauma hits you… and you might not react the way you had expected or planned. Trauma messes with your head and you won't be able to think clearly. It makes you do thinks you normally wouldn't have done and can make you act out of character. So, do not judge people without having been in the same situation yourself. Ever.
Someone wrote that I have "more problems that just a rape".
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Read that again.
Just a rape.
This person does not know how damaging a rape can be. And if you made it this far in this post, you know I didn't only go through one, but several. Not just by my ex, but also being ambushed while I was walking home from a party, and later; a co-worker forcing himself onto me at a building site. I can't go into depth about them all, I just can't.
Just a rape…
"Just" the feeling of not being in control of your own body and your own decisions. "Just" being robbed off your dignity and self-worth. "Just" having someone intrude into your private zone, tear your clothes off and claim your body against your will. "Just" feeling how your life force leave you as you realize that fighting against it won't help you, and you silently give up and just lay down waiting for it all to be over. "Just" spending hours in the shower, scrubbing your skin until you bleed because you can't wash the filth away and you keep feeling dirty no matter how much you clean yourself. "Just" waking up at night, after having relived the scene again in a nightmare. "Just" looking over your shoulder wherever you walk because you heard something or thought you saw something or simply because someone is walking behind you. "Just" the fact that you'll never feel comfortable walking alone at night again or have someone walk behind you. "Just" never being able to relax because your body constantly think you're in grave danger. "Just" a rape…
That's such a neck-beard thing to say. Someone who clearly think of other people's bodies as property or things. Not taking into consideration that we are living, breathing individuals with feelings. And that having another person violate us isn't something we like or that we'll easily get over. We want to choose who we give ourselves to, nobody should be forced. We didn't ask to be raped. We didn't want it. We didn't like it.
Rape is trauma.
Yes, we should have chosen other characters for the story, but we did what we did, and it cannot be undone now. So, if the only thing I will be remembered for in the fandom is that ONE fic, instead of all my other content, that's what it will be. That's what people chose to. I'm moving on.
10. Being a nazi for being interested in WW2 history and for being Norwegian and having so-called nazi-letters in my last name (actual letters of the Norwegian alphabet).
*sigh*
This is something that could only happen in America, isn't it?
Some people don't bother educating themselves. The "nazi-letters" you guys are talking about is actually part of the Norwegian alphabet and has nothing to do with Nazism or white-supremacy to do at all. The Norwegian alphabet has 29 letters, the three extra is æ,ø,å or in capital letters: Æ,Ø,Å.
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We can't help it if some morons over in the US abuse these letters as symbol of their twisted mindset.
Yes, my name contains one of those letters. It is my name… and I didn't choose it. It is a common Norwegian name.
As for me being a Nazi?
Those who knows me knows that I am as far from a Nazi as one can get. I despise Nazism with all my heart.
But the reason some people choose to believe so… was that some guy who has no hobbies or life went through every single fave I've made on DeviantArt since I joined the site in 2006, which is well over 20000 faves. And he found a few Nazi-characters from a web series I was following about ten years ago. I am very interested in history and especially WW2-history, so I found that particular web-series interesting and faved some artwork related to it. What this guy failed to notice is that I also faved the Allied characters… That's ALL there is to that story.
I has also faved a pic someone made of Joseph Goebbels (I think it was?) as a Pixar Car. That's not because I have any nazi-sympathies, but I simply found the concept of turning historical persons, both good and bad, into Cars as an interesting project. I would have faved any other historical Carsified person as well.
As for me being a Norwegian and have a natural pale complexion, that's not something I can help. That's nothing I choose. And it doesn't make me racist or Nazi. Period.
11. Putting a white-supremacist flag (the actual flag of Norway) on my porch on family birthdays and our national day.
Again. Get educated.
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This flag… is the actual flag of my country. The Kingdom of Norway.
There is nothing Nazi about it. It is not a symbol of white-supremacy. IT IS THE FLAG OF NORWAY.
During WW2 it was even illegal, so people would paint it everywhere in a protest against the Nazi-occpation and the SS. We even decorated our Christmas trees with it, and that is a tradition that has followed us into the modern day.
Again, if some idiots in the US choose to use it as a symbol for their disgusting logic, it is not Norway or the Norwegians' fault.
12. Being a danger to my daughter.
I need people to elaborate here.
What exactly do you think I do to my daughter? What is the cause of your concern here?
The fact that I have made NSFW content? How is that harmful to her as long as I keep it away from her? You DO realize that even authors, pornstars and moviemakers have children and that they can be good parents, right?
Do you think I read pornographic content for her as bedtime stories? Or show her porn instead of kids TV? How sick are you guys, really…?
Some people even wanted CPS to take my child away from me… Have a look at these screenshots…
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You want a happy, healthy, innocent child to be taken away from a stable, safe home with loving parents just because you don't like the content the mother made? You want her to be placed in foster care, where there is no guarantee that she will have a happy upbringing rather than have her stay with her parents who love her and care for her, for reasons she'll never understand and wasn't even aware of?
"Think of the children!" a lot of you say when it comes to my content. May I ask why this doesn't apply to my daughter?
Why do some of you go as far as to wishing her dead or wanting her to be removed from the home she feels safe and loved in? How is that thinking of the children?
As for the douchebag in that screenshot. You claim that if your mother did something like that you would want nothing to do with her… I have a question: Do you know EVERYTHING your mother do? Does she include you in each aspect of her life? Even her sexual life? No?
How do you know she doesn't do thing you don't approve of when you're not around? She could be a rabid pornmag reader for all you know. But stuff like that is something adults hide from their kids. So, you wouldn't know, unless you go snooping around in her business.
Everyone is entitled to privacy. What I and my husband do when our kid is not around is our business, not hers, and certainly not yours.
Porn and parenting are to be kept separate from each other. Period.
And we do.
There is absolutely no reason to be worried about my daughter. She is a happy, healthy child in a safe, stable home with family that loves her and cares for her. Not just me and my husband, but also grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins.
If you want to remove her from that over a stupid fanfic behind a mature content wall, you're the deranged person, not me.
 This is all I have to say about all this and my time in the TTTE fandom. I have left by my own, free will. Yes, I am aware that many people don't want me there. That's fine. I don't want to be there.
I am a bit disappointed in those people who just blindly unfollowed me and unfriended me without any questions asked, just followed the leader. Big users tend to dictate who and what is worth following in that fandom. They will even protect real predators, but I'm not going to open that can of worms now. I'm done with the fandom.
Some of those people, I have been talking to regularly, even supported when they faced hardships in the fandom themselves. But when I got in trouble, they ditched me without a word…
If anything, this whole ordeal showed me who to trust and not, and who were true to their word when it came to how deep our friendship was. True friends at least give you the chance to explain before they drop you. I hold no ill feelings to those who did, at least they asked me before judging.
And those who still stayed with me, are the ones who truly know me and who I really am.
Some of the worst libels posted about me might be reported to the police, but I haven't made up my mind yet. I am not mentally strong at the moment, so I don't know if I have the strength to legally follow it all up. I will ask the cops at work for advice on the matter.
All I ask for now is some peace.
You don't have to like me. You don't have to follow me. You don't have to like my content. Feel free to invalidate me, I know a lot of you will.
But please, stop bullying me and my family.
Please stop sending me horrid messages and death threats.
Please stop doxxing me and calling me.
Please leave my family alone. If you don't care about me, at least care about them.
Please just ignore me. I have already left the fandom, there is no reason to keep hunting me.
I just want to move on and go on with my life and the content I am currently working on. After years in therapy, my life has gotten better, and I want to move on.
Please let me.
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ghoulishhusband · 3 years ago
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I just realized I can actually talk here. Like this is my account fuck u
Fucking uhhhhhh, hi ig lemme ramble abt my God ocs yea?
Ignore this part if you don't wanna hear (likely) unedited rambles lol it doesn't matter
CW: neglect/abuse, assholery/narcissism, manipulation, tread lightly!
read the under cut owo
Also don't steal my art I'll fucking?? Fight you????
So
I have three main gods that I wanna talk abt especially bc they've been on my mind lately.. Less get it, side notes are in (parentheses) and are bolded cause I have perception issues whoo I don't want it to jumble together is my point lol
First up is my asshole,
Giodine
they/them (preferred)
god/godself (i like pronouns that fit my characters, so I'm giving a bunch away for one night only at--)
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ID : Giodine is colored with gold-ish yellow skin and ginger hair. Their eyes are a muted purple and they have tiny eyebrows. Their lips are a muted brown and are full looking, their nose is sharp and points down. They have wings for ears and is wearing a blazer with a long-sleeved, collared shirt underneath it. The background is beige with a yellow square and a dark purple square partially encompassing it. It is signed GH (for ghoulish husband), Spork, 21.
(lemme know if that helps at all! I'm sure I can do better so lemme know!)
If they look weird here it's bc I accidentally made their face too long but believe it or not this is in fact just a doodle Ik I'm so fuckin talented babes.
Anyways, they're basically the first God to ever exist on my version of earth (though even that is fickle rn, world-building is hard unless I hyper-focus on it, and haha Guess What I Haven't Been Thinking About) and they're very egotistical and selfish. As I'll probably yap about later is how they're manipulative as well, especially to another God I'll mention, and very neglectful to the other... other one.
Their partner(professionally), or fiend as they call him, is sam who for the first few eons was, unsurprisingly, absolutely terrible to him. A few tender moments are few and far in between in what could only be described as a completely rancid relationship. I'll describe giodine's side and in sam's lil ramble, I'll describe his :]
I have to explain this because it's a big part of the lore and how they can't work together, even when one of them is very much near The Void (technical death for gods) BUT basically, with Sam, giodine created purgatory. The issue here is that they basically seduced sam into doing it. Well, even if they hadn't, sam was in lesbians(happy pride month lmao) with giodine and would've done it anyway. But the ISSUE is that with the creation of purgatory came complications. See, my gods have to take time to develop into their power, and considering giodine was first and sam was around 666th.. you see the issue. Sam wasn't into his complete power yet and thus lost a giant part of it that went into purg.
See, giodine saw no problem with this (until much later, they do get a VERY SLOW BURN redemption arc cause this ain't even the worst of it), they got what they were aching for out of them and thusly had no need for..sam. They laid him in the spot where she was made (fwi it isn't inherently sexual, it can be, but literally, they just merged together-- taking bits and pieces of each other (which sam did not have enough of) and earth and light yadda, yadda I'll post the story I wrote for that later if I'm up to it) and left him there in the grass.
Again, they saw no problem with that, the deed was done, they didn't care anymore. A common issue in their qualms, sam and Giodine. They did find an issue in Sam finding an issue in the lack of aftercare, which resorted to any message going to or coming from sam going straight to his assistant and going back through them for a couple of thousand years. They found that infuriating-- how could he not face them over something so small! and for years?! it was ridiculous. After forcing a face-to-face meeting, a heated proclaim of hurt from sam, and a bitter agreement to meet up every now and again, they got what they wanted from him. Again. It was a business after all, there was no point in making it harder than it needed to be. 
Giodine doesn't necessarily like boundaries and tends to overstep sam's frequently. They also don't like his reaction to his boundaries being long jumped over, which thusly ends up in disgruntled messages being sent back and forth between them and his assistant for a month or three. It slowly gets through to them, but they tend to say some stupid shit and if they want sam to stay, they have to try and avoid mentioning how "overly sensitive" he is to something that happened eons ago.
(quick mention, there isn't like. time. here. so in all honesty, giodine probably counted earth days instead of Heaven 'days' to get that) Soon into their arrangements to meet, they seem to get on at least tolerable terms, obviously, a few meetings where neither of them feels like going apeshit and taking proper shapeless (or in sams case, he's got a newfound form for ANGER OO just for giodine 🤗) forms isn't going to fix a grudge that has yet to be apologized for by the way. But it's a start to a very long process down the road. Tolerance.
Giodine as an entity is very fickle and rude and demanding. They tend to have a short temper that no one else is allowed to have or comment on-- They were the first therefore they were the most important!
This is very obviously an issue. But it's mostly directed to purgatory. Almost all of their seething rage is pointed towards the poor entity, she's barely been alive yet and they already seem to hate her for things she doesn't know how to do. Honestly, I don't think Purg will ever fully forgive them for the unnecessary abuse of her character, but just as Sam and Giodine get on better terms, they had barely just begun fixing the hole in their relationship. As of now, Sam/Giodine don't have any minor plot points with purgatory other than the major one so I don't have a lot to say about their relationship right now. Maybe one day.
I'd go into details, seriously, but I just wanna ramble about their relationships with each other and their impact on each other's existence. Hope you don't mind a few secrets 😉
But, now, it's time for a new God, one I think most people take a liking to...
Sam (Samuel)
He/him
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ID: Sam is surrounded by clouds in the light blue, fading to a darker blue sky and the yellow sun. His horns are a darker beige, which is being highlighted by the sun shining down on him, he also has pointed ears. His skin is red which is very prominent in the sun. His eyes are completely yellow, his hair, beard and mustache are also black. He has an orange scar crawling up to his Adams apple. His wings are a darker grey which is also being highlighted by the sun. His nails are painted black and his hand is holding up the black fabric barely covering his shoulders. Around the painting is a gold and red shaded frame with swirls complimenting each side and a crystal at the bottom of it. It is lightly signed GH, for ghoulish husband.
Sam, Sam, Samuel.
If you don't realize right away, Sam is basically Satan, he's the ruler of hell
Like how giodine was the first to appear on earth, as mentioned before sam was 666th for funnie reasons. Sam was made from bugs, dried blood, and sunlight which sounds pretty gross, but he's far from it. He's a silly, yet neat, guy. He wears Hawaiian shirts and khakis (not around giodine lmao) for cryin' out loud! how bad of a person can he be? Apparently to giodine (for a while obviously) he was the most retched entity to exist. This very much hurt him considering the amount of fake care they showed him before. With a mixture of confusing feelings (which wasn't supposed to be a thing but Univerce went "lmao you'll be fine" and left... short explanation, Univerce is the Universe and is the entity who simply builds these planets and gods that'll appear there and leave them to their own devices, xyr not extremely important in this story. Nor would they care.) and feeling used, he decided that no he wasn't going to take that.
If there is one thing Sam knows how to do is to self preserve himself, even if that means getting passive-aggressive notes sent to him every once in a while. While this period, Sam was surprisingly the least productive (unfortunately giodine knew this and eventually mentioned it in one of their meetings which made him hide away cause like hell giodine was going to be critical of /him/) but he managed. It wasn't terrible, but unfortunately, Sam being able to talk it out with someone who does practically the same work as he does and gets newer, more helpful ideas was better in the long run.
Unsurprisingly, Sam was the first to initiate the healing of his and giodine's relationship but it wasn't reciprocated. Who would've figured, aye? Giodine kept pushing it back onto him and ignoring any progress that could've been made before. Which was frustrating.
The painting above was 'painted' by giodine, which is sorta where their relationship gets somewhat on an understanding of each other. Giodine gets to take a deep long look into who Sam is and tries to express it but it never fit him, it makes them realize that they never really-- truly got to know him. And all it does for Sam is make him even more confused about his place in giodine’s mind. He figured it's another fluke to get him to do something, so he ends up distancing himself when they start actually reciprocating his friendship advancements.
Suddenly, like a flash, Sam was forced to stay with giodine which is where the majority. I'll explain.
Sam...isn't actually the ruler of hell. Anymore, anyways depending on the timeline. His and purgatory's relationship has always been complicated, she always avoided him, and when they talked she always seemed scared of him. So in the end, they've never been close. Distant. Sam always wanted to talk to her, he made her, but if she didn't want to talk to him he wouldn't force it. But imagine his surprise as Purg singlehandedly took over hell in a hazed frenzy.
And not only that, had a personal vendetta against him!
Well, that would be the only explanation to Sam considering how he ended up broken and barely 'alive' at the hands of her. Horns broken and in tatters, pain and almost obliterated it felt like a hate crime. He didn't know what to do when he made it to the office, Purgatory was creating chaos outside his door and barely being able to breathe he felt like it was the end. So he called giodine. 
Purgatory
She/her
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ID: Purgatory is surrounded by flowers that are dark grey and white. The light fades down into a dark green. The light shines down on top of her straight, white hair that has yellow flowers tucked into it.  Her skin is a dark brown and has a orange-ish yellow scar on her shoulder trailing up to her neck. Her skin is also highlighted by the sun. In one of her eyes, her sclera is black with an orangey, glowing iris. As for the other eye it it has a white sclera and the same, glowing orange iris. She has wings for ears, one dark grey and one white along with beige horns. She has a white fabric covering her chest. The frame is gold with white accents, but also has vines and moss crawling up the side. 
(may have goofed a bit and forgot to color the sclera of her other eye white but ignore that pls)
Purgatory was made by Sam and Giodine, but to her it felt like a mistake. Why make someone that you’re going to be terrible to, she believed. Giodine seemed to hate her and eventually made her section almost obsolete because she simply wasn’t able to keep up with the backlog that she wasn’t taught to deal with. Not only that, she didn’t have any help with any of it, it was almost like she was expected to just do it on her own. Until Death came along to help, but that’s not what we’re going to be talking about right now. 
And also, Purgatory is Purgatory yadda, yadda, I wont insult your intelligence.
Giodine’s thought process (other than wanting to be Real Close to Sam and once that thought filtered out, promptly ignored it) was that all the extras that don’t fit in either category of their thought of good and evil they’d go to her. (doesn’t matter cause in Sam's system it filters through ‘levels of assholery’ and depending on how bad you are you either just vibe in the upper city under rule of capitalism and possibly many under paying jobs or being actually tortured for his amusement if you’re just evil. Morally grey. Anyway, it could work p well in heaven if giodine wasn’t such a damn stickler.) But in the end, every day, less and less people ended up in purgatory, leaving her with barely any people and more verbal abuse from giodine who ‘HAS to take them or they would be more dead than they already are’. You see the pain she has to go through, right? 
~Idea section, this is probably not canon anyways so dont take it serious~ 
My thought is that another oc (BA, you may have heard of him idk) takes over simply because Purg took multiple hims from alternative timelines (which isn’t allowed but what’re they gonna do, undead a dead clown? multiple times from multiple timelines???)) because she adored him and they figured ‘well we gotta redo purgatory may as well do it like this’ and make him a demi-dead-god. i think thats a cool idea right? anyhoo
~Idea section over uwu~
Purgatory overall is a fairly timid character, she doesn’t like conflict, is easily overwhelmed, and generally keeps to herself. She doesn’t see the point in being in any drama if she’s just going to be yelled at and scolded even if it’s not about her. The only way i could describe her taking over hell is this: 
She was tired. She was angry and after feeling like nothing was in control or in her hands, she snapped. Why doesn’t she get anything or get to be ‘all powerful’ but they do? She knew if she took on Giodine she’d likely get thrown to the void, but sam? He felt fair game. Considering her fear of both of these gods, she planned and got her courage up to take him over. She had considered negotiations but in the end, she ended up going into a haze and ruining everything in sight. She was more powerful than she thought and once she started, she didn't stop until Death restrained her and Sam was already in pieces at God’s doorstep. 
The aftermath was fuzzy for her and for everyone really. Godine was planning a take back hell while actually worrying for sam, sam was planning for a retirement, and she was being consoled while trying to get in contact with sam to apologize. Giodine wouldn’t dare let her talk to him, until she just showed up in their office. She didn’t have a problem with Sam, honest, she just was going to take shit over, but it got out of control. 
Spoiler, Sam took her apology and they actually became.. somewhat closer after reaching an understanding. 
I wanna say that giodine took them being okay and sam retiring as good as sam did about purg running hell, but they didn’t. Giodine and purgatory actually barely got along in the first place, and only begun ‘working’ on their bitterness toward each other because they both had sam to encourage it. I can’t say for certain if they’ll get better, as theyre both undying and have time, but I’ll just say for now its uncertain. 
Also, Death is Purgatory’s girlfriend after all of that lmao.
And.. yeah, i hope this makes sense and that you like my drawings and ramblings about my lil story in my head, i guess this is my way to develop it without just keeping it to myself cause god forbid i keep things to myself hshsh. If you made it to the end, thank you for taking the time to read and attempting to process everything, and even if you didnt read and just looked to look at my art thank you to!!
I may post some art over on @ghoulishhusbandart cause.. it was my art account before i completely forgot about it but i might reboot it! But if you wan art NEOWWW follow me on insta (ik cringe lmaoo) by the same name as this account @ghoulishhusband​ or just click that insta link! also ignore the fact that giodine is the only one without a portrait, maybe I’ll replace it the next time i draw but im graduating on monday and my dad’s coming TOMORROW?? so i won’t have too much time to do it... but i hope you like my art anyways :]
ok!! ty!! ily!!
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angstsfordays · 4 years ago
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A Lot Like Love
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Summary: Six months into joining the Avengers, you had your first clash with Steve Rogers. A prequel to Stay With Me.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Avenger!Reader, Bucky x Reader (Platonic)
Warnings: FLUFF. ANGST. FEELINGS. A few bad words.
Word count: 6k-ish
Notes: I’m back with another Steve Rogers fic! I don’t know how I always easily write over 6k and I sometimes wonder if its too much! Honestly, I’m hoping to write more but I have been stuck with a writer’s block. Several ideas and draft were made but I can’t seem to follow through. Hope you will forgive me as I navigate this through! 😭
This story took me weeks as I felt it was not good enough but I managed to write a version that I liked. Hope you will do too! If you haven’t checked it out, I wrote a Dad!Steve story called No, Mama. Check out my masterlist too! 🥰
 Leave a like, reblog or comment to let me know what you think! 💖
———————————————————————
“I’m very disappointed in you, Y/N. I expected more from you.”
His words were laced with frustration. Your face scrunched up as you tried to prevent yourself from crying.
You wanted to show that you deserved a place among the ranks of the Avengers. Afterall, you had come to idolise Steve Rogers ever since you entered the academy and grew an admiration for the hero under the influence of your then mentor, Phil Coulson.
However, you have soon come to learn that the perfect image of the Captain changed when you got to work under directly.
You heard about how much of a hard ass he could be from Bucky and Sam. Steve Rogers had rules when it came to managing his team and expects his team members to follow his instructions closely. In your ignorant bliss, you believed that he was just acting like any other leader.
It was a mission targeting a rogue scientific facility that decided to engage in human experimentation involving missing and homeless people. The catalyst for this mission came from a sharp increase in missing reports. The local authorities believed it was out of their league to engage this facility given that it was backed by an influential figure.
The goal was to save those under captivity and hopefully arrest the mastermind behind this cruel act of humanity. A majority of the team was deployed with Steve, Bucky, Natasha, Sam, Wanda and yourself.
Sam, Wanda and you were placed on the team to bring the captives out while the Steve, Bucky and Natasha were tasked to take out security and secure data that could aid in finding who’s the one supporting the facility.
You were informed that everyone was held accounted for and that everyone can proceed to board the jet. The woman you held in your arms was still trembling as you moved to escort her to the Quinjet meant to transport the captives.
Her sobbing intensified as you started to feel her weakly clawing at your arms while mumbling something incoherent.
“What’s wrong? Hey, breathe in, breathe out.” You tried to get her to calm down so that she can speak properly.
“There’s someone else- Jacob, they kept him in the-” The woman tried her best to tell you as she took deep breaths.
“Where did they keep him?”
“There’s an isolation room. Jacob fought back as they tried to take away one of the little ones. They placed him in solidarity confinement for that. It’s located in the west wing of the-” You heart accelerated as you took in the information.
You knew that there was plans to burn the facility to the ground. You overheard one of the guards giving instructions to another before Natasha shot him.
“Everybody out, we’re done here.” Steve came into your view as he overlooked at the captives being escorted into the Quinjet.
“Please, he’s a young boy himself too. No more than 18 years old.” The woman pleaded with you. You nodded in response to show that you understood her worries and you made to move.
“Follow the rest back to the jet. I will get him.” Reassuring her once more, you took off into a sprint and allow your powers to push you off the ground in long strides towards the direction of the crumbling building.
“Y/N! What are you doing?!” You could hear Steve screaming after you. Pressing into your earpiece, you told him that there was one more person to save.
You could hear your comrades persuading you to stop as you see the whole building ablaze on fire.
“Y/N!” Steve shouting with both frustration and desperation, asked you to turn back but you ignored his instructions for the first time ever.
Hoping your instincts were right, you rushed to the west wing of the building. There were debris everywhere and you had to conjure a shield from your energy-based powers to protect yourself.
Your eyes lit up and seeing a plain door with a small peep hole.
“Jacob!” You called out, hoping that you got the right one and made to blow the door off its hinges before kicking it down.
You saw Jacob covered in soot from the flames and he was seen to be gasping for air, presumably from the inhalation of smoke. His hands reached out to you feebly and you pulled him closer under your protection.
“Captain, I found him.” You pressed into your earpiece.
“We will be there to extract the both of you.” His reassuring voice allowed you to take a breath as you cradled Jacob in protection. The oncoming debris alerted you that the building was going to fall and you might be buried underneath it. Frantically looking around for an exit, you knew the door you came in from was not an option.
As the four walls came crashing down, you let your powers engulfed you and Jacob in a protective bubble. You weren’t sure how long you could hold it out as you felt the impact of debris falling.
The call of your name brought you out of your temporary prayer and you could hear Wanda on the other side of the wall. You weren’t sure what happened next but when you opened your eyes, you saw that you were on the grassy ground not far from the facility.
Your senses alerted you of another impending explosion, thus you quickly shielded yourself from the impact by projecting a tranquilizing barrier to soften the impact of the blast. The next moment was a daze as you felt your face meeting the fresh grass. In a state of blur, you could sense yourself being lifted off the ground and carried into someone’s arms.
Your eyelids were heavy while you struggled to open them. The last thing you remembered was a voice calling out your name.
———————————————————————
You were jolted awake but all you see was darkness. That was when you realised that your eyes were not opened and you were only subconsciously awake.
You willed yourself to open your eyes but the bright line that pierced into your sight had you closing them immediately. Waiting a few more seconds, you slowly tried again and blinked to adjust to the light.
The next thing that your senses picked up was the beeping of a monitor. Then came the aches in your body. Letting out a groan, you slowly wriggled to move your muscles. Within the next minute, you managed to sit up.
You realised that you were in the medical wing of the compound. Flurried footsteps were heard as Dr Cho came into view. She started fussing around to check for your vitals. You were still in a blurry state of mind and only started to focus when she called your name.
“Y/N, how are you feeling?”
A groan answered her question as you held one side of your head.
“I suspect some traumatic aftershock from the blast but you seemed alright everywhere else. You’re lucky.”
“That’s my middle name.” You kidded as you saw your friends filing in the room. Dr Cho informed them of your condition and you could see the relieved expressions on their faces when they were told that you were mostly alright.
You blinked several times and saw Wanda came to sit by you, petting your head in a comforting gesture. You leaned in her warmth and had your head on her shoulder. Natasha came to sit on your other side and held one of your hands in hers.
“I will keep her under observation for a day.” Dr Cho informed before walking out of the room. Once she was gone, all attention was back on you.
“That was ballsy of you, kid.” Tony quipped as he gave you a once over. His heart dropped when he was informed that you lost consciousness in the field while working in the lab.
You gave him a mock salute and grinned in response.
“I don’t think you should be joking, Y/N. You almost got yourself killed.” Steve Roger’s voice took your attention. Oh boy, he looked fuming in his signature crossed arms pose.
“Hey, all that matters is that she’s okay.” Bucky interjected, sensing Steve’s bad mood. He looked over Steve with a concerned expression before moving to yours to show support.
“I did what I had to do, Captain.” Brows furrowed, you did not understand why Steve had to take that tone.
“No, I gave you clear instructions to come back. Instead, you just ran head straight into a blazing fire.” Steve pressed on in a reprimanding tone.
“She was just trying to the right thing, Steve. Anyone of us would have tried to do the same.” Sam tried to speak up on your behalf. Everyone was now alert of the hostility emanating from the Captain.
They knew Steve could have a temper if he wanted but what they didn’t know was why he seemed more bothered than usual. Everyone had made several mistakes in the field from time to time, but Steve never took it to heart. He overlooked them quickly and just reminded to do better next time.
It seemed that Steve was more affected this time round. Steve then asked for everyone to clear your room so he could speak to you alone.
Everyone started filing out, Bucky and Sam gave you worried looks while Wanda and Natasha gave you pats on your shoulders. Tony, being the nosy king he is, wanted to stay to see what happens next but was swiftly ushered out by Natasha. Vision who came to visit tried to give you a reassuring look to which you responded with a slight smile.
You didn’t see what the point was when the walls were made of glass and everyone could still what was going on. Once Steve saw the last person out and the door closed, he spoke up.
“We could have come up with a plan instead of rushing into a burning building that’s about to collapse any minute!”
“There was no time for a plan. I could do it! I’m trained for this!” You retorted in your defense. You believed you made the right call, how could you not take any action when you knew someone needed saving.
“I was an agent before I was an Avenger. I knew the risks!” You added onto your argument to justify your actions.
“Sometimes we cannot save everyone, Y/N. It’s not worth the risk!” Hearing Steve’s words riled something up in you. For the first time, you forgo the idolised image you had of him and saw him as a stubborn and unreasonable person.
“It’s worth trying! And I did it!”
“Have you thought of what everyone felt? Have you thought of what I felt when I see you running into the burning building? The odds may not always be in your favour.” Steve decided to take strides towards the end of your bed.
“Well, I beat the odds? Didn’t I?” As you were still sitting down on your bed, you craned your head to look up at him. You returned his intense glare with your own. Steve couldn’t believe your defiant words and he felt his temper reaching a boiling point.
“Don’t make excuses for your reckless behaviour. You should have listened to me!”.
“I’m sorry I don’t listen when I think something is unreasonable.” Your words came out cold and you heard the gasps from some of the team outside of the room.
Everyone couldn’t believe the exchange happening in front of them. Your sudden attitude change towards Steve caught them by surprise as well Steve’s display of temperament. In the time they know you, they known you were polite and respectful to Steve and they had always known Steve to be mild-tempered.
“You think asking you to stay away from your impending death is unreasonable?” Steve spoke calmly but in a way that showed restraint from bursting.
“You would have done the same, Captain. Ironic for someone who once marched into a fully armed Hydra camp solo.” If your previous words from before didn’t serve to tip Steve over the edge, your last one did. Steve’s eyes widened at your remarks as if he couldn’t believe you said that.
“Suspension from the field till I say so. Until then, I hope you’re looking forward to paperwork, Y/L/N.” Gritting your teeth in anger, you also started to feel the unexpected tears welling up in your eyes.
“I’m very disappointed in you, Y/N. I expected more from you.”
Ouch, those words hit you like a bullet train. What’s more, it came from Steve- someone you respected and admired.
You tried to blink them away and looked down on the surface of your bed. You knew you were close to tears and balled up your fists to stop yourself from losing your emotions. Opening your mouth, you were sure that you wanted to make another retorted but was surprised when nothing came out.
You looked out to the needle in your hand connecting to the IV drip. Reaching out, you pulled it out with the little strength you had. Steve was shocked to see what you were doing and his next sentence came out in a concerned tone compared to his previous stern one.
“What are you doing?”
You briefly ignored him as you got your legs off the bed. Setting them down gently, you made sure you had your bearings and stood up gingerly. You took a few steps to warm up your sore muscles.
Steve’s hands came up to rest on your arms and you looked up to his eyes full of bewilderment at your actions. You shrugged them off and returned a cold stare back, you then tried to move around him.
“Hey, where do you think you are going-”
“Oh, am I supposed to report my every location to you now?” You answered sarcastically. You made your way to press the button to open the glass door of your ward.
“I can leave, Y/N. You need to rest!” Steve was clearly flustered by what you were doing. He knew he crossed the line on his remarks but he was still concerned about your well-being.
You spoke up as the door opened to your friends staring on in disbelief.  
“Come on Tony, let’s order cheeseburgers and fries.”
You were apathetic to the reactions of everyone and especially one in particular as you tried to walk off in the direction of the kitchens, faking a strong front when really you were broken inside.
Steve Rogers can go piss himself.
———————————————————————
You recovered faster than expected but were restricted to less strenuous activities for at least a week by Dr Cho.
This only meant a week of boredom as you struggled to occupy your free time. You were worried how you were going to get around the compound with the possibility of coming into contact with Steve at any moment’s notice.
However, when Natasha told you that Steve was going on the follow up mission to apprehend the mastermind behind the science facility, you heaved a sigh of relief. Natasha and Sam were also tasked to go along with him as well.
Luckily, you still had Bucky, Wanda and Vision to keep you company. Tony made sure to stop by when he comes into the compound with your favourite takeout, he thought he could make up for Steve’s harshness on his part.
You told your friends about Steve’s ‘punishment’ and were genuinely concerned at its implementation. Taking you out of the field was one of the worst punishments for you. If you do not work in the field, then what kind of Avenger could you be? Plus, you hated paperwork the most. They always gave you a migraine.
In Steve’s absence, you were free to roam around as per normal. You went about your usual routine of catching up with your shows and just chilling with your friends.
You went out shopping with Wanda one day, the next you had engaged Vision in the fun of board games specifically the ‘Game of Life’ and you also played video games with Bucky the day after.
However, your momentarily bliss ended on your fourth day of rest when footsteps entered the common game room.
“Oh come on Bucky! You can do so much better!” You stated as Bucky tried to keep up with the steps on ‘Just Dance’.
“I don’t know why I let you rope me into this.” Your friend grumbled like an old man (which was befitting of his age) as he started shaking his hips awkwardly in accordance to the character on the TV screen.
“I’m helping you to keep up with the times! What better way through dance!” You countered his remark as you did a body wave.
“You’re lucky Sam’s not here, otherwise I would never-” Bucky spoke as he chuckled at your remark but he was not able to finish when he got interrupted.
“What the f-” The recognition of Sam’s voice had you pausing your game momentarily. You turned around to face what you would expect to be Sam only, but your eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights at who else you saw.
You froze in your actions and looked over to Bucky who looked equally mortified. Both of you were panicking for different reasons.
“Friday, you got that on camera?” Sam started balling over at how he witnessed the usual stone-cold Bucky dancing. Bucky dancing like a modern millennial?! Sam grinned like a Cheshire cat.  
You started blinking nervously as you craned your head to see Bucky positively fuming and you could even detect Bucky growling.
“Hey! That’s not nice, Sam! Bucky was just accompanying me because I was bored.” You tried to intervene as you placed a hand on Bucky’s arm to reassure him.
“But did you see his moves, I mean-”
“Bored? Didn’t you start on the paperwork I assigned you?” Steve’s voice cut into the conversation like a knife. The atmosphere in the air suddenly shifting towards a tense one. You looked down on the floor to avoid answering Steve’s question.
“I’m still resting from the previous mission. Dr Cho’s orders.” You formulated an answer after a moment of silence.
“Clearly.” The hint of sarcasm in Steve’s voice was unmissed by everyone in the room, proving to further embarrass you than you already are.
“You can start on collating the report from the previous mission.” Taking a nervous gulp down your throat, you looked over at Bucky who eyed you sympathetically and then over to Sam who kept quiet.
Even he knew when to read the room when Steve was putting on his captain hat.
You begrudgingly dragged yourself to the level where the open office is. With Friday’s help, you retrieved the documents that you needed to kickstart the report that Steve assigned you. You began to work while listening to your music playlist and soon find yourself immersed in the zone.
The music in your ear pods was blasting in such high volume to drown out your surroundings that you could not hear Friday calling for your attention. Your jerked in your seat when you felt a tap on your shoulder and looked over to see Bucky.
Taking out your ear pods, you paused the music playing on your laptop.
“What’s up, Buck?”
“I’m calling you to come to dinner. Friday told us you have been here for six hours.” Oh, you didn’t know you had been here at your desk for that long. Looking at the time on your computer, you saw that it was already closing to half past seven in the evening.
“Come on, Wanda and Vision made dinner.” Bucky pulled you out of your chair and placed his hands on your shoulders to guide you out of the office.
“Look, Y/N-” Bucky let out a sigh as the two of you made your way to the elevator. “I’ve known Steve forever and believe me, he’s not out to get you.”
“Oh yeah, what about what happened earlier?” You asked Bucky with a defeated look while leaning your back on the wall.
“You have to understand from his perspective. Being a leader is more than just leading, a leader takes care of everyone in his team. How do you think he felt when he knew you were in danger?” Bucky’s question made you reflect and realized that you had only be thinking about yourself.
“He would have felt the worst if we lost you because you’re his responsibility.” Bucky continued while placing a comforting hand on one of your shoulders. A sense of guilt had sunk inside your heart upon listening to what Bucky said.
You awkwardly looked down on the floor as you did not know what to say. Hearing Bucky’s words, you realised that you had only been thinking about your own perspective and failed to recognise what people around could have felt.
Bucky knew you were deep in thought and reflection as you kept quiet. He felt that he wanted to explain on behalf of Steve since he believed that you might have not understood where Steve was coming from.
You weren’t the only one affected from the argument. Steve didn’t have it any better. Steve tried to conceal his emotions with neutral expressions but Bucky saw that his best friend would always perk up when your name was mentioned amongst the team for the past weeks.
Bucky saw Steve standing outside your door the day when you were cleared to go back to your room. It seemed like Steve wanted to talk to you but couldn’t bring himself to actually knock on the door. When he was caught, Steve brushed it off like he was just passing by. But Bucky knew better.
Bucky had his hands around your shoulders as he led you towards the common eating room. You could hear the voices of your friends chattering and instantly picked up the smell of lasagne inviting you to take quicker steps towards the room.
“I smell lasagne!!!” You skipped in joy towards Wanda who was letting the lasagne cool on the table. Wanda gave you a bright smile and did a small cheer dance,
Your cheery persona, however, dropped when you turned to see who was sitting at the dining table across you. Steve looked up at you with an unreadable expression as if to gauge your reaction at the sight of him.
Wearing your heart on your sleeves, you couldn’t hide your emotions when you saw him. Half of you still felt upset at Steve’s cold attitude while the other half was consumed by guilt.
“Come on, Y/N. You must be starving after doing so much paperwork.” Bucky tried to sit you down but you resisted his push. You refused to let your feet move but it was a laughable attempt when he was a super soldier and could have just easily picked you up.
You were not ready to face Steve yet as you were still uncomfortable from your previous exchange.
With your quick wit, you brought your hand up to one side of your head and crouched over in fake pain. “I’m not feeling so good, I think I’m going to head back to my room-”
“What? But Wanda made lasagne! You live and die for it!” Sam exclaimed from the side and you cringed when you realised that you had to come up with a better excuse.
“Oh, I must have gotten a migraine from all that paperwork. I think I need to lay down, I don’t think I can see-” You held yourself back before the truth came out but you peeked over and could see that Steve didn’t buy your nonsense.
 “The lights.” You tried to quickly cover up your verbal flounder. “Oh, the lights are making me dizzy.” Spinning out of Bucky’s hold, you kept up your act by muttering excuse after excuse. You tried to ignore the calls of your friends as you briskly walked back to your room without turning back.
Letting your body fall onto the comfort of your sheets, you let out a big sigh as you looked up at the ceiling. Your eyelids felt heavy as you started blinking, you knew you were worn out from just typing at your desk all day.
The next moment you woke up, it was still dark outside your window. You reached for your phone and saw that it was around midnight. The grumbling in your stomach served to remind you that you haven’t had dinner.
You made to wash up first before making your way to the kitchens. Friday had informed you that everyone had retired to your rooms. Knowing that you were alone, you walked with ease in search for food.
Your eyes spotted something at the table and saw that Wanda had left you a portion of dinner. Putting it in the microwave to heat up, you took your phone out to find something to watch while you ate dinner.
You propped your phone up against a tissue box and dug into your dinner. The comfort food made you feel good and you went over to the fridge to grab a bottle of beer.
Engrossed in the video playing in front of you, you didn’t realise someone in the shadows who was watching you giggle at something funny playing on your phone.
———————————————————————
Steve regretted the way the words came out of his mouth. He was supposed to check if you were alright after the incident but he was taken aback by the turn of events.
Normally, you were polite and respectful towards him. You two had friendly exchanges but he could tell you were more comfortable with the rest of the team.
It riled him up when you challenged him and refused to admit your mistakes. You did not realise how worried everyone was when you ran ahead to the burning building. The panic rose when there were the minutes of silence that followed after he tried to comms you.
Everyone in the team looked to each other in worry and were at a lost on what to do. Steve brought Wanda and Bucky over to the supposed location where you might be at. The two looked over Steve for his next instructions.
Your voice coming up on everyone’s ear piece was an answered prayer when he knew you were safe. Steve got Wanda to blast a hole in the side of the wall. That’s when he saw you huddling over the young boy, using your own body to shield him while extending one hand to conjure an energy-based force to protect from fire and debris.
Wanda used her powers to bring both of you out and settled you on the ground. Even to the last moment, you mustered the last bit of energy to increase the projection of your shield and received the last brunt of the blast from the explosion.
That’s when you collapsed back onto the ground. Steve immediately went to pick you up while Bucky helped the young boy. Your eyes were half closed as Steve could see that you tried to stay awake but eventually fatigue must have gotten the best of you.
“Y/N!” Steve tried calling out you to ensure that you were alright. Holding you securely bridal style, Steve made sure to bring you back to the jet fast.
Steve’s memory then went back to the moment where you looked like you were crying. In his fit of anger after you dared to talk back for the first time, he decided to throw out a punishment to put you in your place.
Steve didn’t realise the impact of his words when you stared back with glossy eyes. You had an unreadable expression but Steve was sure you were upset. When you reached out to take out your IV drip, Steve panicked at your sudden actions.
He tried to stop you from leaving, he knew that you were still weak considering that you were knocked out for a whole day. When you said you couldn’t stand to be around Steve, Steve swore his heart sunk for a moment.
How were you able to have such an effect on him?
Then you walked out of your ward, asking Tony to order cheeseburgers. Steve didn’t know whether to scoff or laugh at that moment. Of course, you will do that after waking up from losing consciousness in the field.
When Steve walked into you and Bucky dancing, he started to experience a strange feeling. What could possibly be an endearing sight didn’t sit well with him. Steve saw how happy you were in Bucky’s company and how Bucky looked the same.
Steve knew Bucky rarely acted so carefree in front of others but always somehow looked visibly relaxed in your presence. He always known you two had got along well but somehow the sight in front of Steve only made him feel bitter.
Why do you keep everyone close but only him at bay? Steve’s hopes for you were only further dashed when you decided to skip dinner, knowing that you had to be in the same room as him. Did he really made you hate him that much?
Steve only wanted what’s best for you, he thought he could had lost you in the fire. When he saw you could still joke around after almost tossing your life aside, an anger started building inside him. How could you still be so cheerful when he was here worried sick about you?
When Steve saw you eating dinner alone past midnight, his heart sunk at the sight. He didn’t want you to hide from him forever. Yes, it’s fine if you do not want to see him but you should not be deprived from being around the rest of team.
The next week had you finishing reports and helping out with other people’s paperwork. You were positive that you were going to break down from the sheer boredom of it all.
You decided to bring your laptop around to do your work instead of being bounded by your desk. This got you to be creative in the many spaces you can choose to work in among the large grounds of the compound. The only condition was that Steve was not going to be there.
You began with working in the common room but it was too lonely with everyone else to do their own things in the afternoon.
You then moved to occupying a small desk in Tony’s lab. You found his company enjoyable as you tried to multi-task between typing and gossiping. However, when one of Tony’s experiments nearly caused you to be fried by an electrical outburst, you decided to scout for another workspace.
You then crashed your team’s training room and decided to do your work in a corner of the room. You were slightly irritated when Friday informed you that you were not allowed to return to training under Steve’s orders when you entered the room.
You were positively fuming and humiliated while your friends looked at you with pitiful eyes when they heard it too.
How dare he! To think you were felt bad when you listened to Bucky’s defense of Steve. Turning your feet, you decided to leave the room when you were suddenly pushed back by a collision with a big mass.
You fumbled as you nearly dropped your laptop but someone beat you to it.
“Thank you-” You spoke gratefully before you looked up to meet the eyes of the one person you vehemently wanted to avoid.
Steve had a look of surprised as he realised that he bumped into you while you looked on at him with annoyance. Seriously, you thought Friday had told you that he was in a meeting!
“Y/N-” Steve tried to break the silent exchange but you were not having any of it.
“Jerk.” You countered in greeting before you pushed past him to walk out of the door.
Steve looked over to see his friends on the training grounds who witnessed the hostile exchange. Most of them tried to maintain neutral expressions but Bucky was the only who gave him a look that said, ‘Go after her punk!’.
You started stomping your way to the elevator so that you can return to your own room. What a bad day, you thought as you shook your head.
“Y/N!” Your ears perked up at the call of your name and you started to panic when you realised that Steve was calling after you.
Looking back, Steve was taking long strides to catch up with you. Without much thought, you didn’t know why you started to make a sprint for the elevator doors and started punching the button as if it could make it arrive faster. You really did not want to deal with him at this moment.
To your relief, the elevator came onto your floor within a few seconds and you immediately threw yourself in and asked Friday to quickly close the doors.
“Friday! Hurry up, please!” Hearing your words, Steve quickly countered your instructions.
“Friday, hold the door for me!” Your eyes widened when the seemingly closing doors started to back up and open for Steve.
“Oh come on! Friday, I asked first!” You whined when Friday informed you that Steve outranks you and hence, she had to follow his instructions instead. Why is she such a stickler?
Thinking fast, you decided that you could still exit the elevator before Steve came in.
Oh, how foolish were you to think you could outrun Steve Rogers?
You were enhanced but not one of your powers included superhuman agility. Steve grabbed you by your shoulders and nudged you back into the steel and glass box.
As the elevator started moving, there was only the sound of your panting and you thought you could burn a hole on the floor with how intensely you tried to stare down and not at Steve.
“Hey, Y/N. Please listen to me, alright. Don’t leave.” His voice was earnest and felt yourself weakened, you gave in and decided to look up into his crystal blue eyes. You swore he was staring into your soul and you realised that it was much too intense.
You tore your eyes away from his and tried to look anywhere else. Two hands then came to rest on the side of your face and held you in place.
Adrenaline was rushing through your veins at the most intimate interaction you ever had with Steve and you could hear your heart beating wildly. Taking a nervous gulp down your throat, you were waiting to see what Steve was going to do.
When Steve was sure he had your attention, he then spoke.
“Look, I’m sorry. I know I have crossed the line the other day but-” Steve suddenly paused and appeared in deep thought to continue his next sentence.
“I never want to hurt you. I never meant to. I’m just so frustrated.”
“About what?” You were surprised that you could say anything. Your arms clutched your laptop tightly to your chest as if it could act as wall between you and Steve.
“About how you can easily say that you would risk your life on a whim. Why?” Looking back at Steve with tears in your eyes, you started recalling an old memory.
“When I was a SHIELD agent, I was on a mission to save a hostage. My team took out the guards and I was supposed to get her out.”
“The guard set the place for self-destruction, they didn’t care of what they left behind. I couldn’t find her room in time. Phil pulled me out as the walls are collapsing, he knew I would be buried along with her if I didn’t get out.” Your voice came out trembling. Steve then moved his hands from your face to the sides of your shoulders, holding you close in comfort.
“I can still hear her screams, Steve. I was so close to finding her, if only I had another minute….” You looked up at him once more, a single tear falling down your cheek while you tried to refrain yourself from breaking down completely.
“If I had been faster, stronger, I could save her. She was only nine. She was abducted because she was enhanced and they were going to exploit her for her powers….” Shoulders slumped, you let yourself fall to the ground on your knees as you felt a sense of weight off your shoulders.
Steve observed you for a moment before joining you on the floor, he reached out to take your laptop from your hands and placed them on the ground.
“I’m sorry, I now understand.” Steve gathered you in his arms and you allowed yourself to return the same gesture.
As you closed your eyes, you felt several more tears falling and leaving wet spots on Steve’s sweater. You tightened your grip and you heart skipped several beats when you felt him doing the same.
“It’s not your fault, Y/N. You tried your best.” You could feel the rumble of Steve’s chest as he spoke and you sought comfort in the warmth he provided.
“You did a good job. You always do.” Steve used his thumb to wipe of the tears off your face and gave you one of his beautiful boy-ish smiles.
“I’m so glad you returned to me-us safely.” Why do you feel heat rushing to your cheeks when he said that? Why does he suddenly seem so wonderful at this moment?
Your mind started whirling at how Steve’s words and actions managed to tug at your heartstrings? What was happening?
“Lives are lost every day during the fight but I don’t know if I will take it if you were gone. You are an important member of the team.” Steve’s words stroke a chord within you and you weren’t sure of what to say in return.
You decided to nod in understanding and Steve took well to your response. What happened next took you off guard as Steve leaned in to press his lips on the side of your temple.
Steve now knew the reason behind your actions and he was angry at himself for judging you too quickly. How you managed to survive in this line of work with such softness and vulnerability baffled him.
Such emotions might be viewed as weak but Steve recognised this to be a source of strength, for you do not fight to kill but help others in need. That’s why Steve had not regretted his decision to bring you into the team, you embodied the very essence of being an Avenger.
Unknowingly to Steve yet, you also have grown to be someone important to him as well.  Someone he hoped that will stay by his side for a long time.
———————————————————————
“You know this is an infringement of privacy, right?” Natasha spoke as everyone gathered to look at the hologram screen that Tony put up in the training room. Steve and you had stood up to leave the elevator with smiles on both of your faces.
Steve had his arm around your shoulders as he led you out while you smiled adoringly at him.
Tony shrugged as he justified his actions. “Hey, had to make sure they didn’t kill each possible, am I right?”
“That’s least likely unless you are talking about these two here.” Natasha nodded to Sam and Bucky who stood side by side.
“Man, it seems I like I’m watching a romantic soap. Gross.” Tony waved off the screen before walking off.
Everyone dispersed soon after while Bucky continued to stand still at his original spot as he stared off into where the screen once was.
Seemed a lot like love, Bucky thought as he witnessed the development between his best friend and the girl that managed to find a way into his pal’s heart.
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72 notes · View notes