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stxrvel · 10 months ago

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i don't wanna live forever (3)

summary: you found your goal, but the path to truth was more complicated than it seemed

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +4k

warnings: descriptions of wounds and blood, people getting stabbed, bad narrating of action scenes (sorry it's not my forte), bad words, english is not my first language, so sorry for any mistake!

note: hi guys! thank u all for the support in this fic! we're getting closer to the imminent reunion between these three! captain america and the winter soldier starting next chapter! i'll try to post next part as soon as i can. love u all and thank you for the notes! <3

part 1 ; part 2 ; part 4

The days in Siberia were cold, but not as cold as that night as you returned home.

All the crumbs you had been able to collect from the mysterious culprits behind the death of Tony's parents had taken you to Siberia. From the moment you stepped out the door of the plane a sense of uneasiness was stamped on your body, having to look behind you every few moments to make sure you weren't being followed. Even if they were following you, you were sure it would be very difficult for you to spot them, because so far they were all doing a very good job of hiding, making your job up to four times more difficult.

You had been chasing ghost trails for eight months and if it weren't for that sixth sense that made you look over your shoulder, you would think you were in the wrong place. But you were on the right track.

Fury had told you that, once in Siberia, you would have to do reconnaissance on your own, because the people there were not as open to foreigners as in other countries, especially in the town where you would be staying.

So, in addition, you spent about two months camouflaging yourself among the people, trying to live a somewhat normal life among the villagers. Some already recognized you when you passed through their streets, just a nod as a greeting. But you were on the right track.

And that night you confirmed it.

It was late at night when you were returning to your small room in an apartment complex in the center of town. You had to cross a lonely snowy stretch to get into town from the place where you worked cutting and storing firewood. You already had that nerve-wracking feeling of surveillance making your hair stand on end like at no other time during your time there. If he wasn't a stalker, then this guy had fallen into the trap.

He started with light steps, and you knew he was doing it on purpose because he wanted you to know he was there, behind you, with the lead. So you gave in and picked up the pace, just beginning to notice the yellow and white lights of the entrance to town in the distance. The man matched your pace and you were incredibly tempted to turn to look at him, to see if it was him or someone else, even though you had no idea of his build. You were sure you could recognize him just by looking at his eyes.

But you had an act to keep up. So you slowly pulled your hands out of your jacket… and started running.

His response was immediate, but you were honestly surprised by the way his footsteps still sounded so light unlike yours. Not letting that catch you off guard, you kept your pace as a normal person would, letting him think you were running as fast as you could. And sooner than ever, you began to hear his footsteps getting closer and closer, louder and louder.

Sharpening your ears, you heard him take an almost imperceptible deep breath, which would totally take any normal person by surprise, but which you were foreseeing since you started chasing a ghost, a myth.

The Winter Soldier.

Hand in hand with the sound of his movements, you stopped abruptly and squatted down as you sensed him gain momentum to leap up and take you by surprise. But you took him by surprise when in the middle of his jump he continued straight, landing badly on the ground covered by a light layer of snow, but recovering quickly to turn around and look at you.

His entire face was covered by a black mask.

He stayed on the ground, just like you, with one leg outstretched and one hand on the ground for support. You started to get up without blinking a microsecond to risk losing sight of him, and he mimicked your movements as if he were your mirror.

He was intimidating and the stories you had heard about him seemed to have outgrown him.

That man looked like he could snap you in two with the minimal effort of his arms, his big shoulders and the line of his muscles bulging through his black suit.

You took a hesitant step forward, him mimicking you as if he was playing you, as if you were a fool to think you had a chance of beating someone like him. You could tell he was letting you feel like you had some control, because he easily understood your game with that little trick you played on him.

That was a very big risk for you to take. The moment the Winter Soldier realized you were no ordinary person, the decks would stop coming out in your favor.

So you kept approaching, willing to take the risk, because the only thing you could do from now on was to catch him off guard by doing everything as stupid as possible, the opposite of your survival instincts that implored you to run away from that place.

He came closer too, his steps full of grace and so light that if you hadn't seen him right in front of you, you would've thought there was no one there. His left hand imitated yours, when you reached for the knife you had hidden behind your back, under your trench coat. And when you uncovered your hand all at once, he also had a knife in his hand, a little smaller than yours, but no less lethal in the hands of an experienced killer.

So if he knew why you were there, because that was the reason he must've followed you, you must've made enough noise about mysterious murders, especially that of Howard and Maria Stark, which was the reason many townies stayed away from you, then he must've been working for the culprit or he himself was the culprit. There was no other reason that man had to have followed you so late at night, armed to the teeth if not to kill you for being a snoop in matters not your own.

The real killer could have sent him to finish you, the only person in that town who suspected that the murder he had passed off as an accident in the States hadn't been a mere accident. And he must've deduced that, if you had gone to the trouble to travel there and make such a fuss, it must have been because you knew something. Something about him. And he couldn't take any chances.

So here was the Winter Soldier, ready to take out the trash, looking sublimely menacing under the yellow sidewalk light.

You had to get that mask off him somehow.

So, following your incredible plan to disregard your survival instincts, you lunged at him, looking all inexperienced and foolish, to proceed to dodge one by one the flicks of his wrist in your direction, some too close to your face. Not lagging behind, you tried your best to hurt him anywhere on his body, moving in different directions as you tried to evade his stabs and trying to fit yours in when he moved less than a second just before you could hit him.

The bastard was as good as you had hoped.

He leaned forward, when with a hard blow to your side he knocked you back and you didn't have enough time to compose yourself when with more speed than you had seen anyone move, even Steve, he leaned forward and plunged his knife into your lower abdomen.

Because of the adrenaline you didn't even feel pain, but he took it upon himself to move as if he did, holding you with his left hand on your shoulder as he twisted the blade as if it was his intention to bleed you out on that half snow-covered dirt path under his watchful eye.

That probably was what he wanted. He probably had to give the report that he had seen you die. Maybe he had to bring your body to the real killer.

The only thing you knew was that the soldier lost his senses when he was about to kill someone, because he gave no sign of feeling your hand move across his side, the blade you were holding taking him by surprise as it plunged into his abdomen, close to his lung, letting out a choked exclamation.

An electric current whipped through your body at how his voice seemed to alert something inside your head, your body reacting first in surprise. But the familiarity that echoed through your body like a bell disappeared as soon as the man strided away from you, his right hand grasping the long knife stuck in his side, smart enough not to pull it out immediately or he would surely bleed out walking to wherever he had to go to hide. You couldn't get that mask off, but the tone of his voice kept repeating like a broken record in your head.

You grabbed his knife, right in the middle of your abdomen, barely feeling the twinges of pain as you began to walk backwards, the soldier mimicking your movements, returning to where he had come from. If he hadn't hurt such a crucial spot that you needed to treat as soon as possible, things would've ended very differently.

You walked backwards until he disappeared into the darkness and only then did you begin to pick up your pace, passing the entrance to the town and looking for the center.

If the few people who were around saw you, they preferred to turn a blind eye. It didn't surprise you, when many of them had warned you what would await you if you stepped into the lion's den.

As soon as you arrived at your apartment, with some melted snow near the wound, the first thing you did was to take the phone that Fury had given you before the trip and send the automatic emergency message. Next, you grabbed the first aid kit you had right on the living room table and collapsed on the wooden chair. Treating your own wounds was not something you enjoyed very much and you kept grimacing and moaning as loudly as possible as you tried to sterilize the wound around the razor.

A few minutes later, just as you felt you were about to pass out listening in the background to the blood dripping from your side to the floor, with the crimson on your left hand glistening in the yellow light of the living room, the door to the apartment opened wide. Faces you recognized from the town square rushed in, but your consciousness from blood loss barely allowed you to remember Fury's words as he handed you the phone, only to give you reassurance before succumbing to the darkness.

“SHIELD is worldwide. I know you've been out of that whole spectrum long enough and thanks to Peggy you've never needed it, but this time you'll need all the help you can get. This is an emergency phone. It doesn't take calls, it doesn't make calls. It just sends an emergency message by pressing the button in the middle and I want you to use it when you're at a point where you feel you're not going to make it. I assure you that you won't be alone and, when you least expect it, you'll be back with us.”

An incessant throbbing in your head was the first thing that greeted you as you opened your eyes, struggling because they felt extremely heavy. You could barely register that you were dying of thirst with a dry throat, when pain coursed through your body as you tried to get up.

“Hey, careful,” you recognized a male voice and arms land on your shoulders, pushing you back onto the gurney. You moved your gaze, still somewhat disoriented, to meet clear eyes looking back at you. “Are you with me?”

You tried to mumble something, but the lack of fluid generated a coughing fit almost instantly. You felt yourself being leaned forward a little and then a glass cup of water appeared in your vision. You quickly grabbed it, drinking it all in a few seconds. You ignored the throbbing headache and the discomfort in your abdomen to concentrate on your surroundings for the first time.

Steve had returned to sit beside you, a hand holding you by the shoulder just to keep an eye out if you needed anything. His touch brought back memories of the night before, the soldier gripping your shoulder tightly as he pushed by the handle the knife that…

The knife.

“Where's my stuff?”

The blond stood up, moving around the room. You brought a hand to your head feeling incredibly dizzy, the pain in your head wouldn't let up for a second and now everything was spinning around you.

The weight of a small backpack on your legs pushed the pain back into the background, your hands moving quickly to open it and spread its contents all over you.

“It's not here. It's gone, why isn't it- why not-?”

Holding up the backpack, your eyes darted to your hands, images of the night before rushing back into your head, like a fast-moving movie. But there was something you wanted to remember as you looked at your left hand, something you had also thought about when you were in the apartment after sterilizing the wound. There was something… something you wanted to…

“Where's the knife? Why the fuck am I so clean?”

“The knife you had buried in your abdomen?” you turned to look at Steve quickly as soon as you heard him, ignoring the whiplash of pain that shot through your head from the sudden movement.

“Where is it?”

“I don't know, Y/N, I only got here yesterday and you were still unconscious. I haven't even been able to talk to Fury.”

“Yesterday? Yesterday I was unconscious?”

Steve nodded, his confused expression sure matching yours.

No.

You raised your left hand, remembering the crimson glowing under the yellow light.

His blood.

No.

No, no, no.

“No…” you wailed, interlocking your hands before running them over your face, the bent posture causing you some pain in the wound in your abdomen.

“You should lie down,” Steve tried to grab you by the shoulders, but you jerked out of his grip, a seed of helplessness growing in your chest.

“Call Fury, please,” you grabbed him by the wrist, pulling his body close to yours, hoping he could see the need in your eyes and not make you repeat yourself.

“That won't be necessary.”

The voice of the aforementioned filled the room, the memory of his voice before you passed out in the apartment causing you another dizzy spell. You wanted to stop and worry, but as soon as you saw him you opened your mouth to speak, only to get your words stuck when Fury raised a ziplock bag with the knife inside to your full face. You felt a little more relieved, because maybe that would give them a clue, something much better to work with, and you hoped Fury thought the same, but his stoic expression left you much to be desired.

“There were only your prints,” the man confessed, your expression dropping faster than you could process. The incessant dizziness was making you want to vomit.

You felt Steve's gaze sweep the room, shifting from your profile to Fury's, surely full of questions, but fearful that raising his voice was going to cost him too much.

“No…” you wailed again, raising your hand in his direction. “Why did you wash my hand?”

“Were we supposed to let you rot in dried blood for two weeks?”

“Two wee-yes, Nicholas, yes!”

The man frowned at you, passing his gaze over Steve as if he had any idea what was going on.

“It was his blood,” you told the man in front of you, his expression dropping in comprehension. “He stabbed me, but I stabbed him back and had his-his blood all over my hand.”

You wanted to throw yourself on the floor and cry. You had spent ten months waiting for that moment, for that little chance to go one step further and now… now you had nothing. You were at the beginning, with no idea whatsoever of his identity and, worse, him knowing that he wasn't dealing with someone ordinary. He probably already knew everything about you, finding the address of this hospital and heading at this moment to kill you.

He should've known where you lived by now. Two weeks was more than enough. Now he had you on his radar and of course he had the advantage.

“So we're back to square one then,” Fury gave voice to your thoughts, hearing it come from his mouth making it so real you didn't avoid the frustrated growl that left you. “Steve, can you give us a moment?”

“Sure, let me abandon my friend clearly in a stress crisis instead of letting her rest like she needs to, because her wound isn't healing,” Steve spat the words at Fury, who glared back at him incredulously mid-sentence, with you raising your head because you rarely heard Steve talk that way since he came back.

Those were ways to talk about pre-serum Steve and meeting him at times like that really was a band-aid for your heart, but you needed to talk to Fury and you needed to do it right then.

“Steve, I'm fine. Please, I need to talk to him.”

“Why can't you talk about it in front of me?”

“It's confidential information, Rogers.”

“Then make it non-confidential,” the blond determined, his square shoulders showing the tension in his body. “I spent a whole week in the fucking cold of Greenland without hearing from her and every time I called you to ask you told me the same shit. That fucking mission you sent her on almost cost her her life.”

“That's the price for the job,” Fury blurted out, Steve moving back, his face incredulous, as if he'd just slapped him.

“Nicholas,” your low voice brought him back to look at you, his hands clasped behind his back moving to slap his sides, frowning.

“Make up your mind right now, Y/N, you want him to know or not?”

“Know what?”

You growled in frustration, agreeing with Steve that you'd have a meltdown if you didn't figure out a solution for that right then. The room was starting to spin on you the moment you unfocused your eyes on the two of them.

“Do we really have nothing?” you turned to Fury, the man taking that distinction as his answer.

“Nothing,” he shook his head, Steve catching every glance and word that bounced around the room. “The nurses cleaned up the blood completely after they stabilized you.”

“You didn't even consider it?”

“We did, but we took the wrong sample.”

You dropped your head in your hands, feeling defeat and accepting it because there was nothing more you could do.

“Then that's it,” you turned to look at Fury. “He's coming back for me.”

“Him?” Steve came into your peripheral vision, his disgruntled, worried face squeezing your chest.

“The Winter Soldier,” Fury answered for you as you looked down, feeling panic mix with nausea.

“Who?”

“A lethal assassin. Y/N suspected him of being responsible for some unexplained deaths that occurred a few years ago and was investigating him on her own.”

“On her own?” Steve turned to look at you. “A lethal killer?”

“Believe it or not, Steve, I can defend myself on my own.”

“Well, that's pretty clear to me,” he commented gruffly, pointing at you. The fact that you were on a stretcher, no, it didn't help at all, but you had been able to put up a fight before that final blow.

“Anyway, it doesn't matter now. He must have all the information on me by now and he must be tracking me like a damn bloodhound. It won't be long before he gets to this hospital.”

“Hospital?” Fury arched an eyebrow at you, barely seeing it through your eyelashes when you felt a sourness at the back of your throat.

“Wherever we are, Nicholas,” you ran a hand over your mouth, closing your eyes tightly. “I don't know if it's the horrible headache, but I have a severe urge to vomit. Do you guys have any dramamine or something?”

Fury and Steve shared a look and you frowned at them, incredulous.

“Want me to throw up on your feet?”

“You didn't tell her?” Fury turned to Steve, wagging a finger between you and your friend, the blond shrugging his shoulders.

“You didn't give me much time.”

“Guys,” you almost implored the sky, moving to lean back again, catching one of the bedroom windows out of the corner of your eye.

You didn't come across a parking lot or a green space. That wasn't a hospital.

“We're on the SHIELD helicarrier, Y/N, a long way from a hospital,” Fury finally spoke, your gaze falling on the dark blue sea that stretched for miles.

“Shit.”

“I'm going to go get that dramamine,” Steve spoke to Fury, as you lay back on the bed without looking away from the window. The sea sure wasn't going anywhere, but the overwhelming sense of panic at least you could chalk it up to something other than the Winter Soldier.

“What's wrong with her?”

“Sea-phobic.”

You took it upon yourself to take a long nap when Fury told you you wouldn't be returning to mainland anytime soon, much less now that there was the desperate possibility that the Winter Soldier was after you.

Steve stayed by your side every step of the way, meeting your every request with patience. He knew that when it came to the sea you turned to jelly, so he took it upon himself to cover the window and keep you stocked with dramamine.

Fury said he would send undercover agents to your apartment and surrounding locations looking for any sightings of the soldier and the very thought sent shivers down your spine. To think that, against all odds, you had faced a fearsome assassin who was almost passed for myth with a small knife, with almost zero chance of beating him and still came out alive. You didn't know how you could continue with the mission, much less now that Fury had told you that you would need more days of rest because the knife with which that man had stabbed you was made of vibranium.

There they had something to work with and Fury assured you, after doing the respective studies, that they would investigate purchases and sales of vibranium near Siberia, if they could get any kind of resource before having to resort to field agents.

That gave you some peace of mind.

“Feeling better now?” Steve was still sitting on the side of the bed, his arms folded across his chest and his expression stoic, though in his eyes you could sense the nobility and his concern. When you nodded, he mimicked your gesture and moved closer to the bed, pulling the chair over with him and resting his arms on the wooden edge. “Now, are you going to tell me why the hell you got involved in investigating a killer who has as many sightings a year as Bigfoot?”

You rolled your eyes at Steve so hard that the twinges in your head almost returned. You moved to lie face up, your face turned in his direction detailing his disgruntled expression.

“You heard Fury,” was all you could say, trying to keep your face as serious as his.

“Yeah, he mentioned some mysterious deaths,” he reminded, not looking at all pleased with that vague piece of information.

“Is that not enough for you?” you arched an eyebrow at him. “The lives of innocent people who have nothing to do with SHIELD are also important.”

“That's not what I meant,” Steve shook his head. “The Winter Soldier has been credited, without proof, with two dozen murders over the last fifty years.”

“So you did your homework,” you looked back up at the ceiling, hearing your friend's irritated hiss.

“He's been in the field for fifty years, and SHIELD started investigating him a year ago?”

“You said it yourself. Knowing if he existed was as rare as proving the existence of Bigfoot,” you turned, Steve's confused look falling in realization.

“You'd been looking for him for a while, but you didn't know it was him.”

“Correct.”

“Because of those deaths Fury mentioned?”

You nodded in his direction.

Steve fell silent, immersed in his own wild thoughts, for a few seconds of conjecture, before speaking again.

“There had to be something about those deaths that motivated you enough to be willing to sacrifice your life like that.”

You hated him. You hated Steve at that moment. Why couldn't he just stick with the simple fact that you wanted to stop a crazed killer? There was also another option you could take, to divert him from the main reason, but you didn't have enough evidence for him to believe you and you couldn't risk him not taking you seriously later on. If the Winter Soldier really started looking for you, maybe he would do you a favor. He would bring all the answers to your playground. Two birds with one stone.

In response you just snorted, turning to look at him once more.

“It doesn't have that deep a meaning, Steve. I found a practically empty report on it one day and Fury told me it was a myth. But there were some coincidences enough to make it not real. So I decided to look into it, yes, on my own.”

You felt horrible when Steve looked away, a layer of embarrassment adorning his features. He was right and he was so insightful and you wanted to tell him, but that truth involved too many burdens that you weren't willing to pass on to him. You and Peggy were in charge of that investigation, Steve didn't have to carry that burden.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky x you #bucky fluff #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky #james bucky buchanan barnes #winter soldier #the winter soldier #steve rogers #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #steve rogers x reader

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reyolfx · 2 months ago

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okay so i'm mid writing a destiel fix it. it's very dean centric but it switches character povs to kind of look at him and how he's dealing from all angles. and i kinda shocked myself by writing a little NAOMI pov?!? i was super unsure about it tbh but i actually really quite like it so i'm posting it.

btw i know i know first person pov?!?! the whole rest of the fic is third person. i just felt like something needed to differentiate naomi's cause she's naomi and it came out in first and i don't hate it so whatever

cw for brief mentions of thoughts/feelings of suicidality.

NAOMI

I press the soul counter button. I press it again. I press it endlessly.

I hate the new god. He is young and idealistic and ridiculous. He is powerful. Maybe even moreso than my father ever was. He barely uses it. He is a waste of potential and an insult upon injury to the struggles our kind have been through the past years.

He singled me out. I was given an ultimatum.

“Naomi,” he had said. I felt his consciousness invade mine. He searched every part of me. Naivety emanates from this god but in that moment, his eyes went cold. I know of his connection to Castiel. This dead angel and his human pets that have been the everlasting hindrance of Heaven.

I once took pride in my work. I tore out disobedience and rebellion and replaced it with loyalty. With deference. I restored purity to angels who had lost their way. Through this, I maintained Heaven’s order. What could be more essential?

The Heaven I once knew has been wiped out. By rebellion. By infighting. By chaos and ruin. There was not enough of me to save it.

So now I press the button. The alternative was to be exiled to a powerless life on Earth among the humans, an option only slightly more distasteful than the first. No matter how much the new child-god pokes and prods at my Heaven, takes it apart and re-pieces it together as he sees fit, it can never be as mad and incomprehensible as Earth.

I take the button for now. I have some ideas for the future.

On my 62,385th press of the day, I feel a pull that I can’t resist.

I am yanked from my station and deposited into a circle of Holy Fire. I smell Earth everywhere. It’s messy and sharp. Intertwined with that scent is the familiar one of the eldest Winchester. There is a gun on me. I know he’s too familiar with our kind to have anything but angel-killing bullets in it.

“Dean. To what do I owe the violent hello.”

I am an expert in the brains and grace of Angels. I know what makes my kind tic. The same does not go for humans. Their emotions are as tangled and harsh and wild as the smells of this damp warehouse. But I have learned to recognize some, even imitate a few. His face is as much like stone as their stodgy, fleshy human forms could allow for, and fury lives in his eyes. Fury is one of the few commonalities between angels and humans, though theirs pales in comparison. Dean Winchester’s is not quite as pale.

“Naomi.” He doesn’t answer my question.

“You seem upset, Dean. Is there something I can help you with?” I have no desire to help a Winchester. I have no desire to help a human. I have no desire to return to counting and no desire to remain on this planet of filth and dust. I may as well let it play out.

“Oh I think you can.” His tone matches his eyes. I smile.

“Well then let’s move this along, shall we? I have very important work to return to.”

“You’re gonna get him back.” I know, of course, who he is referring to.

“Get who back?” I make my voice kind and concerned. I like it when this particular ape is unsure. Something about it satisfies.

“You know who, bitch.” Dean Winchester waves his gun and steps towards the circle. “Cas.” The nickname he has given my brother sounds broken in his mouth despite the single syllable. It doesn’t match the rest of his tone. I can sense his misery. I realize that he is actually much easier to read than most humans. It’s minutely surprising that it makes me curious.

“Castiel is in the Empty, Dean. You know this. Heaven has no jurisdiction, there.”

His face twists with... perhaps impatience. “Red tape is for the living,” he grunts.

“Threats while you have me trapped and powerless. How noble.”

“It ain’t a threat. It’s a plan.”

My curiosity is piqued further. It seems the months of button pressing have had a greater effect than I thought.

“Do share.” I believe I imitate boredom well.

“Cas once visited the Empty and came back. Jack helped. He – he drained Cas’s grace and kept it safe...” Dean Winchester pauses. It seems like it exhausts him to speak so much. Such fatigue after a few short sentences. “Then brought him back with it.”

I consider what he has said. “So. You summoned me here and trapped me in Holy Fire to ask me to... kill myself. To find your beloved Castiel in the endless dark of the Empty. And bring him back to you.”

He is stiff and furious again. “You owe him,” he says, emphasizing his words with another shake of his gun in my direction. “You fucked with his head for months, you monster. This is the least you can do.”

His request it the most absurd thing I think I’ve ever heard. I hate to admit that I’m fascinated. But, the next part is as predictable as my days have come to be, until this one.

“And if I don’t?”

“Die and I bring you both back, or just die. Up to you.”

I might do it. There is little chance of getting out of this alive, otherwise, and it would be – something. Something to break up the monotony. If the plan was not so clearly and utterly flawed, I just might.

“Dean. Do you have Castiel’s grace? Do you have his body?”

I can hear his teeth grit and his grip on the gun tighten. He takes a long moment to respond.

“No.”

I sigh as if I am speaking to a child, which I am. “Jack could bring Castiel back from his visit to the Empty with access to his body and his grace. Do you believe the Empty would let Castiel go simply because you wished it? I can’t enter the Shadow’s domain and simply touch Castiel to bring him back. You would bring me back alone, Dean. The exercise would be fruitless.”

Dean Winchester begins to pace. He brings the hand that does not hold the gun to his head and grips his hair. I hear it tearing.

“Open a portal, then.” His voice is like a wild animal’s. His request, again, just as stupid as one.

“You know I can’t."

The man explodes. “What fucking good are you angels?” His gun is trained back on me and he is closer to the circle of fire than he has been. Violence emanates from him. I believe if he could cross the circle without me killing him, he would have me by the throat.

I have no reason to answer him. He doesn’t even know how right he is, these days.

He laughs. This I don’t understand. Laughs like I’ve said something funny though I’ve said nothing. Again I am reminded of a wild animal, though they don’t share laughter with humans.

He clicks the safety off his gun. He’s not laughing anymore. His hands are steady.

“Guess I’ll just kill you then.”

I don’t think I want to die. But I’m also not so very attached to this life. I look into his eyes, and no, I am no expert, but yes – he is clearer than most. I think he feels the same. Maybe less ambivalent than I. I think I feel death hovering around him, and it’s not my own.

His gun hand shakes. “You really are a monster,” he spits. “For what you did to him. You’re no better than belly crawling hell scum.”

He clicks the safety back on. He leaves me in the warehouse to wait out the fire.

#destiel #destiel fic #rey writes #naomi spn #dean winchester #castiel

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goat-guy-tm · 1 year ago

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Trying to explain my "Modzilla and Kul'Zak are the same person" hc/theory:

A day or so ago a made a silly lil post with this stupid meme I drew

and now here I am, taking a swing at trying to explain this weird ass hc/theory I have been stewing for over like a year now.

☆

Now, I don't have any like, hard proof that any canon MCD and MMW/VP content points towards this ever being true or possible, for example you can bring up the fact that Modzilla has canon parents he introduces Aphmau to in MMW, and pointing out that the scar on Kul'Zak's face doesn't match up with the void burns on Mod's face, and even Kul'Zak's tomb, but for a moment put those aside, I have some explinations for those but they are flimsy at best, but simply hear me out.

☆

To start this out, an important thing to note that if you were a fan of MCD, but never watched MMW (ModMod World) or VP (Void Paradox) or watched VP but not MMW, is that Professor Modzilla is what is known as a void scientist and a dimesnion hopper. Within all of the Aphverse, other than Mod's parents which are met in a one off episode, no other character has this ability or knowlage of these things, save for Aphmau in MMW, Laurence in VP and Jayden in VP of course. Laurence and Jayden being those dimension hopping against their own will and unknowingly.

It should be noted that in MMW's plot, Modzilla is trying to find his way back home, stating he was dimension hopping when he made a mistake and no longer knew how to get home to his dimension. At the end of MMW this does happen. In VP, it can be seen that Mod's home dimension is basically eaten by the larger antagonist of VP, which he runs from into a portal Polly, Aphmau and Tommy open to try and contact him.

Why do I bring this up? Note Modzilla's ability to get himself stuck in a different dimension for large amounts of time.

At some point last year I was very hyperfixated on The Divine Warriors, and spent a lot of time thinking and re-reading about them. Out of all pf them, Kul'Zak is the one we know the littlest about, even compared to Menphina. No info about any place he comes from or nothing. Let it be known that his title, amongst all the divine, is Kul'Zak The Wanderer. All of the divine's titles have something important to do with their character. Esmund of course being the knightly personality and need to protecto others, Enki's vast well of knolwage as the Keeper, Irene's want to protect others in a more healing motherly way as the Matron, Shad's rough nature and dark desores as the Destroyer, and Menphina's rambunctious nature as the Fury. So, what could The Wanderer possibly mean?

Well, here comes my little idea; Kul'Zak was not of MCD's dimention. Some how, a 'Wanderer' found their way into the Divine's company, and as a group of powerful warriors, who would they be to not have a companion with powers relating to dimesnion travling freely. Or well, mostly freely.

The scar upon Kul'Zak's face could easily be a void hopping burn, a minor one, maybe Kul'Zak's first ever one. Maybe hopping into MCD took more power than he was ready for, giving him a nasty, eye closing scar.

Maybe Kul'Zak decided to stay for a while, getting to know this new world he stumbled upon, enjoying the company of these new friends he's made, maybe helping save the world while he's at it.

And so what if while he was here, he was given a special relic by Irene, a woman he's come to see as a close friend, and accept it with full heart. And so what if he's been basically given immortality by this. So what if he watches his new group of friends slowly tear each other apart, reincarnate time and time again only to tear each other apart again and again, over Irene herself.

Kul'Zak never reincarnates. He stays himself throughout the years, alongside Irene. They stay close friends, Kul'Zak being a rock for her throught the years. Never does their relationship become more than that.

When Irene decides she can no longer take it, that she wants to finally gibe in, lose her soul to the natures of rheir world and be reborn a new, Kul'Zak is there, telling her he'll support that choice no matter what. His wanderer powers help bringing them to and from Irene's dimension, and when she finally decides to go, she gifts part of her relic to Kul'Zak, a part of her. She tells him she wants to scatter herself across the worlds, just like how Kul'Zak has, she wants to see the worlds alongside him, even if it isn't her.

Kul'Zak, heartbroken as he is, agrees. When Irene and Hyria finally decide to put Irene into her reincarnation sleep, Kul'Zak leaves MCD's world, not before faking his own death, bringing and end to the 'last standing'of the Divine Gods.

He goes home to his own world, no longer feeling like himself after spending nearly a melenia in a world not his own that became his home. Fufilling Irene's wish, Kul'Zak spends years hopping around worlds, showing the part of Irene's soul around. All this dimension hopping slowly, over time affects Kul'Zak physically and mentally as well. The void begins to burn him, leaving half his body a warped, purple and black mess. Not only that, but he starts to lose himself a little. He remembers his home dimension, he remembers Irene, he's lost his name though, he doesn't know where he's going, if he's going home or if he has somehwere else he's supposed to go.

He finds himself in MMW's dimension. He decides to place Irene's soul here. Let her finally become a whole person again, where MMW Aphmau comes from. Kul'Zak wanders the world, eventually finding himself in the village MMW takes place in. He sets up a labratory, trying to excuse a way to find his way back home, but noting down new information about the dimensions he stumbles upon. Years later, a woman named Aphmau moves into the village, and takes up conversation with Modzilla, the town's weird hermit scientist.

Why would, out of everyone in town, Modzilla only eber trust Aphmau with dimension hopping? Why would he have such a out of no where connection to her from the get-go. He lets Aphmau explore these worlds, she does so safely and she seems to love it, it makes Modzilla think of Irene, how she would have loved this, how he's glad he could give it to her, even if it isn't really her anymore. And of course when it comes to Tommy, Aphmau takes to caring for him like it's natural, which Modzilla can only guess truly shows her past of being The Matron.

When Aphmau helps him find his way back to his home dimension, Modzilla deep down is glad, is not surprised in the slightest that the woman who picked him up when he was lost in a new world was the one to help him find his way home.

The only way I can explain Mod's parents is the possibility that either the type of humanoids coming from Mod's dimension have much longer lifespans, or that dimension hopping in general messes with the being of a person so much that their life becomes strange and longer if not immortal. Or it could be a fake out, not his real parents and just some people he payed off to pretend to be his parents, who knows.

☆

Well, that's about it. If this slowly became less readable over time, it took me about an hour to type up, from around 11pm-12:30, I'm tired but I really wanted to get this typed out. This is one of my faborite hcs, and something I think could really tightly tie in MMW and VP to the rest of the stories. I get a lot of joy and amusment from this concept, I also like to play around with this concept minus the idea of Mod losing his memory, just him playong god in disguise trying to just chill with his life out of the MCD world, except whwn Lawrence suddenly shows up and Mod is the only one who speaks old Ru'auni, who they end up bonding a bit over it, and Lawrence connects the dots that Mod is Kul'Zak.

Anyways, see ya laters bozos

#aphmau mystreet #aphmau mod mod world #aphmau void paradox #aphmau mmw #aphmau vp #aphmau mcd #aphmau modzilla #modzilla #professor modzilla #aphmau kul'zak #kul'zak #aphmau irene #irene mcd #aphmau headcanons #mcd headcanons

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your-littlesecret · 7 months ago

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

@espithewarlock just tagged me on this, thank you bb 💕

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

62 + 1 on anon

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

exactly 559.489

3. What fandoms do you write for?

exclusively Formula 1 RPF (right now)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

say my name and everything just stops (I don't want you like a best friend) - a/b/o where Charles accidentally "matches" with pierre in an app to help with his heat

jump then fall - vet!pierre who works in the animal shelter Charles takes a dog he finds in the street

call it what you want to - my firstborn wip, rival CEOs

hide and seek - crackfic where their families were never openly told Charles and pierre are married

baby one more time - pure porn. breeding kink.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I always try to but I am terrible at it 😬 I appreciate all of them, but I never know what to answer too skaduhfbnskuhfvndfkhusvb but yeah, I try to answer all of them

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I have literally two fics with MCD so it could be either 💀 but to me, it's gotta be I know I'll never get it (there's not a day that I won't try)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I have literally no idea?? I don't really do unhappy endings (apart from MCD, and even then very rarely) so I could say any of them

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not really?? I got a bitchy comment once but that was about like. nothing related to the fic, which was weird osieugnsoeiugnfdivjn

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

yes. I don't know, I just- sit down and type it? idk what kind, I've written a wide range of different smuts I believe.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

that will depend on what you view as crossover. httyd au could be considered a crossover bc toothless and the fury light are literally part of the story??? the one where they are shadowhunters with our lord and saviour Magnus bane making an appearance (and Alec being mentioned). the proposal au? (I wouldn't say Lucifer au is a crossover bc I literally just based myself on the whole idea of celestial beings and whatnot. maybe it's a bible crossover??)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that I am aware of, and I fucking hope not!!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I've had a request for it, but I'm not sure if the person is still thinking about it or what's going on. it would be an honour!!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

YES!!!! THE JUSTLY FIC!!!!!!! I love this fic so much and I love justi so much (debatable, we are in our enemies phase right now so I don't think I can say that in public) and it was SO MUCH FUN and I love writing with friends and I sure want to do it again!!! (friends..... if you want..... you know where to find me...... 😏😏)

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

definitely piarles. I will sometimes venture myself into other ships (especially if I want to write for a fren and I don't mind that ship)

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I don't have any published work that's unfinished bc I keep myself on a very tight leash about wips. if I start posting it, bet that I already have at least half of that story written and the rest is already meticulously planned. I have a few half-finished wips on my docs tho, but if I stop writing it's usually bc it's not bringing me any joy anymore. the nanny x ceo tho.... I stopped that one bc I got a bit depresso espresso at the time and life got busy as shit but I want to finish it so badly.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I ask myself that every day kkkkkkkkkkk I guess the fact that I can write really quickly? like if I have an idea I can just write down a whole 10k in like. 2 or 3 days.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

first of all I can't shut the fuck up. I have to restrain myself when I want to write anything less than 5k. im not sure if it's a weakness per se but yeah.

I also am very aware I have issues with describing the locations and with ending a fic. like. I never fucking know how to.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I don't mind when it's specific words or the occasional phrase and there's a translation to it. other than that, I won't lie, I kindof despise it. I can't speak, for example, Italian, so what is the point of reading a fic where the whole dialogue is in Italian if I won't understand shit?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

you will have to talk to my lawyer to get that information.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

I couldn't possibly choose only one! all the fics I post is because they bring me joy and I love writing them, so I don't think I have a favourite.

tagging @yukierres @duquesademiel @golden-fairylights @chaesonghwas and @hrhgeorgerussell 💕💕

#haven't done one of those in a while but I thought this was funnnn #truth is. you tag me and im probably at work and then I completely forget when I get home.#it's not my fault it's my dori brain #bubbles posts #bubbles write tag

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petra-creat0r · 11 months ago

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Annual Update 2024

Alright everyone! New year, new updates for all my stuff!

Starting with ...

AtDFF and AYC

(The new signatures for my main art, AtDFF, and AYC)

As some, and by that I mean most of you have probably noticed, I rebooted AtDFF... again. I technically started a revamp all the way back in 2020 where I was redrawing the older updates to better match the current style and reformat the asks and text for better readability, but that didn't impede on the main updates (well, besides putting more onto mine and the rest of the team's work load.)

The Reboot

This past year though, I made the decision to completely reboot the comic for a few reasons. One was an attempt to renew my motivation, another was wanting to rework some of the lore, yet another was being inspired by @askfallenroyalty to remake the comic and post to ComicFury, but I think the main factor was... I wasn't all that happy with it. I think I kept comparing it to other comics, especially Fallen Royalty, which is my own issue, please don't go blaming anyone else. I knew I could do better, especially after over 5 years working on this, but now looking back, part of me feels that, rebooting it again is, in a way, diminishing those years. Even with the 2020 revamp, prior to it you could go through the updates and really look at how my art has progressed, and though true you can still scroll and find the old updates, it's just... not quite the same. Same can be said for the 2023 reboot.

Does that mean I'm going back on the reboot? No. I already have the next updates planned (I just haven't had a chance to work on them that often) and I really like the new lore of the world that I've come up with. I just think this will be the last time I ever reboot the comic. Whatever happens, happens, and I need to just roll with it. Even if what happens is our little roadtrip getting derailed into a corn field again, lol.

Comic Fury and New Comic?

With that said, what do I have in store for the new reboots of AtDFF and AYC? (yes AYC got rebooted too, I just haven't posted the first update like I did with AtDFF) Well, I mentioned a Comic Fury, which surprise. Both AtDFF and AYC have their own Comic Fury pages now! Don't worry, I still plan on posting to Tumblr as well, but now you can also find them on Comic Fury. Along with another comic I'm planning to do (eventually), Undertale-ish: The Comic. Ever wonder what Ish Frisk's journey through the Underground was like? Want to see what happened in most (not all) of their 800 runs? Want to see this child grapple with their self insecurities, perfectionism, and the responsibility of having full control over time and an entire civilization's lives in the palm of their hand? Want to see Chara as a ghost? Well that's what you'll get with Undertale-ish: The Comic! Coming I don't know since I such at scheduling and time management for these things!

Schedule

Speaking of scheduling! When are any of these comics coming out? Well... I just said I suck with schedules, and I can't promise really... anything when it comes to release but like... I know I for sure would like to release things... regularly? Even with the start of the reboot, I started it in April, and that stuff extended until at least August. Every summer I naively think "Oh! I'm gonna have so much time to work on the comic!" and then I get a summer job. Because I'm nearly 20 and going to college and even if I'm still living under my parent's roof, I can't entirely rely on my dad to pay my tuition. Only for half the year. Then during the school year, I have classes, and I feel burned out by the time I get home, and- It's a whole thing I need to find someway to work around or else nothing gets done and my brain just screams at itself. So, I think scheduling is something I'm gonna figure out throughout January, and try and get a backlog of updates ready throughout February to April or May so maybe we can start posting again in summer. Does that feel like a long wait? Even being near a year from the first update of the AtDFF reboot? Yes. But also I'm trying to over estimate and give myself the time and space I need while still attending college, and I wouldn't just be working on one comic update, but multiple. I'm trying to give myself space and some grace instead of making promises that feel hollow after a while of being unfufilled.

Lack of Motivation and How to Fix

Another thing to address, is my motivation when it comes to these series. I don't think it's accurate to say I've felt completely unmotivated to work on either comic, I mean, I was motivated for some of the beginning of last year to full on overhaul them, but I will say that, these comics have started to feel like a job. It's been something I've felt for a couple years now, where I've been having less fun with the comic as it's begun to feel like actual work. Believe me, I'm super excited for some of the later plot points of both AtDFF and AYC, and I love Undertale-ish and these characters but to get to those points or character moments, it feels like I'm slogging through what comes before it, which isn't good. This is something that sure, rebooting helped for a bit, before I got caught up in school and other stuff, but it's not a permanent solution and I've felt myself slipping back into the comic feeling like a job.

So how might I remedy this? Well, I think the solution might lie in another series I started this year, Drawing Junior Secret Squad until Chapter 3. Even if DJSSuC3 is more Deltarune focused, I've enjoyed drawing Chicago and my other fankids pretty much daily as, there's not that much pressure on it. Definitely not like there is with AtDFF or AYC. I don't have to line, or even color them since, they're just little doodles. I don't have to worry about missing a day since, I'll just do multiple the next day. They're quick, they're easy, I can just draw whatever idea I have with the characters I want, I'm having fun. Back when Ask the Dreemurr-Font Family was nothing but an ask chat on Amino, that's what I did it for. For fun. I wasn't worried with popularity or being like other creators, I just did silly little character driven roleplays for fun. I think that's been my issue with the comics. They aren't fun anymore. They're work because, I feel it's my job to tell this story rather than just... telling it because I want to. So, I think going forward, I'm gonna try to have more fun with the comics and Ish in general. For you all, that's probably gonna look like more sketches and doodles getting posted and maybe even just sharing small comics based off ideas that pop into my brain or from roleplays that happened in my server. Little things to help me regain the enjoyment I had with these comics and world.

Deltarune: Fool's Fate

I think that's all I've got to say on the Undertale based comics, so how about now we move onto something Deltarune related? As I was doing DJSSuC3, I introduced an idea called Deltarune: Fool's Fate. Aka, Chicago and Co's adventures through the Dark Worlds after Kris denied their destiny. So far, this has just been little doodles, character designs, and a roleplay I've been doing in my discord server. I've been having quite a bit of fun with that RP, we're nearly to the end of what would be the first "chapter" and have been fighting Dorothy, the secret boss of the Attic Dark World and who some of y'all might recall I made a real life doll of when my old computer finally kicked the bucket earlier this month. (I've still yet to make her dress or crown) I think roleplays have always been the thing I find the most enjoyable when it comes to character exploration as, I don't have to spend forever drawing comics and I get to sorta live through the characters. It's something I've been doing for characters from even before I was in this fandom. With the Fool's Fate roleplay too, I've also got to come up with elements that could feasibly be in an actual video game without, you know, actually coding a video game.

I don't know where Fool's Fate will go from here, while it'd be cool to have it be an actual fangame, I don't have that sort of skill. Nor the budget to pay a team. (My team for the comics is really just a bunch of friends I convinced to help me out for free.) Even with a sprite comic, it'd be too much. So, for now, it'll likely just remain a concept and roleplay. But, who knows. Maybe someday I could make it into something. I mean, after watching this year's Underevent I wanted to.

Other stuff

With all the UTDR stuff out of the way, what about some of my other stuff? (Because, surprise, Undertale and Deltarune aren't the ONLY things I do. Just the things I hyperfixate on the most.) Well, I've got my Fakemon region, Azmayca, POW-R, Dragon Riders, and Kinder Eyes which I started last summer. I don't really have any plans for them, asides from bugging people for ideas and doodling whenever I'm in the mood. However I think starting this year, I'm gonna try to post more of the doodles I make. Either ones in my sketchbook since DJSS gave me the confidence to post sketchy silly little doodles like that, or sketch doodles I draw digitally as warm ups. Though who knows. Maybe a hyperfixation swing some time during the summer will cause me to actually try to do something crazy like outline the whole Azmayca region and hypothetical game. Hopefully not something like that though. Making the evolutions of my redesigns of the starters might be nice.

Commissions

Another thing I'd like to finally do next year is update my commissions sheet. It's something I've had in the work for a while now, and was working on along side launching the comic updates. But, like the comics, school and work got in the way so... I sorta forgot about it. Regardless! I'm gonna try to post my updated sheet some time within the next few months, it's mostly just been havin to draw or find recent examples of my work. Hopefully then I'll actually get some more commissions because, um *looks at the whooping $3.94 in my checking account* I could really use the extra money. I might work during the summers and get grade payments from my dad but, that stuff is to pay my tuition and some of my lunches during the semester, and even with lunches, 500 dollars is spread thin through 17, 16 ish weeks. That's like, only $30 a week, which is maybe enough to cover buying lunch at the campus food court like, once or twice from the food court. Maybe three times if I'm lucky and conservative with my spending. Not to mention that $300 of that went to my new laptop, and even if I should be getting $300 from a paycheck I was never paid back when I worked at Arby's 3 summers ago, I still haven't gotten that gift card in the mail so... Yeah. If I was living on my own, I'd be screwed. Which is why commissions and Patreon are like, my only source of income during the school year. (I still need to look into getting an on campus job for this upcoming semester but that's its own whole big can of worms.)

Patreon

Speaking of Patreon, that's another goal I want to set. Actually posting to it again. I had a burst early last year were I was regularly posting to Patreon with early access chapters of The Puppet and the Real Boy (before I retconned that with Fool's Fate) and thanks to my only Patreon ever @kierangecko, I managed to make around $50 bucks which ended up being used to help get blanks for some of my Christmas gifts for people (thank you Gecko. I know I did stop posting after like, May, but that money really came in handy.) So for this next year, I'm gonna try to post to that again. Be it WIPs of the comic, scripts, little doodles I don't post on Tumblr or whatever, I want to make Patreon another source of income. Which involves posting to it at least monthly. And even if I don't, then you guys won't have to worry about anything since I've got it set to not charge for months I don't post anything.

Resolution Review

So, to review some of my... I guess you could call them resolutions, though I'd rather think of them as goals I don't absolutely have to hold myself too but would just like to accomplish, I'd like to...

Have more fun when with AtDFF and AYC through drawing and posting more loose, silly comics and doodles

Try figuring out a posting and work schedule for AtDFF and AYC by then end of January

Hopefully get a back log of updates for both comics ready to release by summer

Start on and release Undertale-ish: The Comic sometime this year

Keep doing Drawing Junior Secret Squad until Chapter 3 until Chapters 3 and 4 of Deltarune hopefully come out sometime this year.

Possibly design hypothetical secret boss predictions for Chapters 4 and 5 of Deltarune before the next chapters come out.

Keep working on, designing characters for, and coming up with Dark Worlds for Deltarune: Fool's Fate. Perhaps even drawing some tarot cards with the chapter bosses.

Post more about my other projects, even if they're only sketchbook drawings or warm up doodles.

Update my commissions page and hopefully take more commissions to earn some extra money/save up for college or to move out.

Post regularly to my Patreon, also to earn some extra money.

Generally have a better year than 2023 and to find more enjoyment in my art and projects.

Closing

Ho boy! That was... A lot! This has turned out to be one very long post. Hehe. Well, should be over now that I've said all I need too. Also, if I haven't said it already, I'd like to thank all of you for supporting me and my art. Be it my comics, DJSSuC3, my other projects, or anything I've posted this year. It means a lot to me that people even like what I draw and you all mean the world to me. With all of that out of the way, thank you Creative Creators and I hope you have a Happy New Year.

#happy new year #update post #long post #petra's annual update #undertale ish #ask the dreemurr-font family #ask young chara #deltarune: fool's fate #drawing jr. secret squad until chapter 3 #djssuc3 #atdff #ayc #undertale-ish: the comic #azmayca #kinder eyes #pow-r #dragon riders #petra rambles

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yourmomni · 1 year ago

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The Kids Of The Sun-2

A/N: IM BACKKK okay so I'm having a little to much fun writing this story so I guess I'll be posting a new chapter every day but it's only going to be 5 parts so please enjoy it while it last.

Wordcount:3k

Niki and I rushed to the side of the camp counselor office where we saw the boys go into. We ducked down when we made it to the window listening in to the conversation

" They followed us all the way here, if it wasn't for the barrier we wouldn't have made it." One of the boys said. He was shorter then the rest, the taller one put his hand on his shoulder. " Jungwon was the first one to see the fury, it was in our school." I looked at Niki but she was still looking through the window

" It attacked him first but luckily he got away, when he found me and Jake 2 more appeared we knew something was up."

Chiron was sitting behind the desk nodding. " Zeus must have angered someone for them to go after all 3 of you, the furys don't usually come together like this." He rubbed his chin.

Niki looked at me " they were attacked by furys, like us this totally fits the story the scroll told us about."

I nodded, " He's the son of Zeus, the one we've been waiting for." " Who have you been waiting for?" We both turned around to cover the girl's mouth who appeared beside us. " Kayla shush." The men stopped talking

I waved my hand making the bush that was beside me hide us. " Are you trying to get us caught?" Niki whispered. Kayla rolled her eyes, lowering the girl's hand. The men went back to talking

" Don't worry heeseung, we'll figure it out. Now while we take care of this, is still the first day of camp and I believe you boys would like to clean up and join the others for the festivities we will have throughout the day. Go with Dionysus he shall lead you guys to your respected cabins."

We rushed from behind the bush and rain back towards the center of the camp where our cabins were. " what's going on?" Kayla asked, walking beside us.

Kayla was the daughter of Aphrodite. She had beautiful brown curly hair reaching All the way to her lower back, with hazel eyes and beautiful brown skin.

She was one the first friends we ever made when we arrived to camp 5 years ago. The best part about her was that she wasn't as conceited as her other brothers and sisters.

" Those kids are the answer to our prophecy the scroll told us about 3 years ago." She looked at us confused. " You meant the group of demigods that's going to shake the underworld and Olympus or whatever that scroll said."

Niki nodded and we made it to our cabins and sat on the stairs to mine. Kayla began fluffing the inside of a rose that was sprouting out of the Crack of one of the stairs. " What took them so long to be found and brought here? Usually things like this happen at least 4 months after it's told but we had to wait like 3 years."

She pulled the rose out of the bush and I winced rubbing the spot she pulled it out of blooming a new one

"Hey if you do that again I'm going to grow poison ivy in your bed." Niki leaned back on the steps

" I think this is going to be a big step into the future of demigods. Hopefully it's a huge battle."

A bell was rung signaling the start of the camp games. Niki was literally jumping for joy running to the center. She met up with her siblings who were already ready for the event that was going to unfold

The ring of fire

That's what we liked to call it. It was basically a ring surrounded by fire. It was farther from the cabins just in case one of the flames engulfed the whole camp.

Basically 2 people would go head to head in a match, to see who was the best or strongest.

The ares cabin lived for this event, maybe because it was based off of their father. Niki was the champion beating everyone who would step up to her.

" You think she can go for another year as champion." Kayla smirked looking around at everyone refusing to go against her. I nodded

" Yeah maybe." Chiron walked up the stairs that led to the ring and got in the middle of it.

" Any new challengers." I looked around and everyone was silent. " I'd like to try." I looked over and saw one of the boys from earlier walking up the stairs to get into the ring. Niki raised one of her eyebrows. It was the Jungwon guy.

" Oh no she's going to beat him to a pulp I can't watch." Kayla turned around. Niki looked over at me and I shrugged .

" Okay pick your weapons, the first one to knock the other person off the podium and into the water wins."

Niki grabbed a sword twirling it in her hands warming up her wrist. Jungwon grabbed a sword as well. He looked over at his friends and they gave him a thumbs up.

" Begin." Niki threw the first kick hitting Jungwon in the side, making him fall to the ground. She brought her sword down and he blocked it with his.

He pushed his sword back knocking Niki off her balance. He regained himself holding the sword in front of him.

" Your stance is pitiful." Niki swung her sword and Jungwon blocked it. " But you do learn quickly." Jungwon swung his sword at Niki feet and she jumped over it stepping on his sword he looked up at her in fear and she kicked him in the chest making him fall back

The crowd screamed

" Omg she's going to destroy him." Kayla covered her eyes again. I frowned my eyebrows

Niki said something to him and he shook his head. She raised her sword and he dodged it. The sword was stuck in the ground and she was trying to get it unstuck which gave jungwon enough time to crawl and grab his sword

" He's lasted longer than anyone else in the past 4 years." That's made Kayla turn around.

Everyone started cheering for jungwon which set a fire in Niki

Finish him

Her father's voice ringed in her head. This was embarrassing. She's never gone this long in a battle with anyone but this boy was quick.

He dodged every hit that she threw at him, he was good at defense even she could admit that.

He started getting cocky and it was pissing her off.

Everyone was invested in the fight even Kayla couldn't tear her eyes away from the fight in front of her.

Then something unexpected happened

The boy smirked, dropping his sword to the ground and throwing a punch at niki which she dodged, then he threw the next one quicker than the other.

Niki was now on defense

" What the heck just happened." The kids beside began to whisper everyone was on their toes. " I think niki just met her match."

Jungwon wasn't going easy either. He tried to kick her side but she blocked it, faltering a little with her steps then he threw a punch that she blocked with her arms that made her falter again dropping her sword .

She was trying to find an opening where she could get out but everything was moving too fast.

Way to fast

That's when it hit her.

She had been deceived, he was playing with her this whole time. He tricked her. He was never weak, he was never scared.

He was analyzing her. Every move, every decision she made he was watching her.just so he could throw it back.

Hermes

He was the son of hermes

Niki finally caught on to his antics, lucky she knew how to handle the god of tricks.

Niki noticed she was getting closer and closer to the edge of the ring. So she was going to throw Jungwon off his game.

Literally

Once his left hand came swinging out for the punch Niki grabbed it instead of dodging it. Making Jungwon look confused. In one quick motion Niki pulled jungwon close to her

He was looking down at her and his breath hitched. She was so pretty when she wasnt swinging a sword at him.

But niki smirked at him. She had him right where she wanted she turned around her back on his chest and flipped him over her shoulder, Jungwon yelped in surprise and the girl who probably weighed half his weight threw him over her shoulder and into the water below ending the match.

" TEAM ARES WIN AND NIKI STAYS THE CHAMPION."

The announcer yelled in the mic making the crowd erupt in cheers Niki looked down at Jungwon in the water smiling at him. " You served your father well, but I'm the best."

Her cabin ran on the podium lifting her up and cheering for her. " That was exciting." Kayla jumped running towards the podium

By the time everyone calmed down it was already time for the next game.

The day went on and I grew more impatient. " I wanna talk to them." Kayla looked at me "are you crazy, they just got here give them a little peace before you drop the news on them." Niki was eating a popsicle not paying attention to us trying to soak in her win.

" I've been calm and patient enough with this situation." Kayla threw her hair over her shoulder and I got a wift of her berry-smelling shampoo. " Maybe I can seduce them Into telling us." I sneered at her. " no thanks ."

We stopped when we saw the 3 boys walking the opposite direction of us. My eyes widened in panic. I needed to get my words together before I met them. I need more time. I was trying to see if we could go another way to avoid them but it was too late.

Niki was already walking up to them " Niki." I yelled but she was already in front of the jungwon guy. " You know I could have killed you right?" He smirked at her. " Oh please I was just going easy on you. You know I would have won if you didn't throw me." She scoffed

" No, you would have still lost." I put my hand on her shoulder. " Sorry she's really competitive."

I tried to usher her away but she didn't move." You know for a Hermes kid you have pretty good defense." He chuckled ." And how do you know I belong to him?" She raised her eyebrow

" Well for starters the sharp nose, the mischievous grins and of course the speed."

He smiled. " Wow you can read me like a book, can you tell me anything else?" He was towering over.

" Well the fact that you have Chiron golden bracelets is definitely a give away." She smirked up at him. They were inches apart

Niki opened her hand and he dropped the bracelet in it.

" Maybe be a little more discreet next time you try to steall." He rolled his eyes looking away from her.

Demigods that were Tied with Hermes were known for their speed and quick hands. They could steal the mustache right from under your nose if you looked away long enough. But it's not their fault their dad was a notorious thief.

The boy beside him cleaned his throat." Hello sorry about him, when he gets nervous he sorta steals." I laughed, " Yeah that's what usually happens."

They tried to go around us but I stood in their way. " You're Heeseung right." The boy looked at me with no emotion. It felt like his eyes were digging into my soul. He stayed silent.

" He doesn't talk much." Jake said quickly. " You're the son of Zeus everyone's been talking about." I said he finally looked at me and I could see it

His eyes were a dark Gray almost black. " What do you want? An autograph."

I clenched my Jaw taken aback not saying anything back to him." If not get out of my way? I don't have time to talk to petty demigods let alone girls."

I scoffed. " Oh please you think you're all strong and bad because you're the only descendent of Zeus in camp. You're not. Not even close."

He smirked. " And you must know a lot of things about being strong?"

My hand closed into fist, he was definitely a Zeus spawn. Always thinking they're better than everyone.

" She was just saying how it was Cool to meet a kid from the big three that has actually survived out in the world for a long time without getting killed, you don't have to be an asshole." Kayla said standing beside me crossing her arms.

Jake was now standing beside Heeseung with his arm on his shoulder. " Let's just go man."

They began to walk away but not without heeseung giving me the meanest glare I've ever seen.

" What a dick." Kayla said, frowning her eyebrows. " Yeah totally."

—----

During dinner time everyone was crowded around Hessung, Jake, and Jungwons table fawning over them. I rolled my eyes as I sat down with my food.

" They're getting treated like royalty, Jungwon literally just lost a battle. To me I should be the one getting free juice and extra bread rolls." Niki grumbled frowning at the table that was in front of us.

The girls were laughing at whatever heeseung said touching his shoulder. " if only they knew how he really acted." Kayla scoffed. " They don't care, trust me my sisters think since he is the son of Zeus they might get special treatment. "

Kayla pulled out her mirror looking at herself fixing her hair and lipgloss. " They're so conceited." I snorted. " sure they are."

" Niyah." A girl ran up to our table sitting her tray down and I smiled at her. " Hey rose wassup." She had a flower crown on her head which meant she was feeling a really strong emotion

She was one of the newcomers from last year. She was only 14 but she was smarter than anyone in our cabin.

" Did you see the new guys, they're so cool" I huffed. " Yeah. Cool." She smiled. " Jake is in the Apollo cabin and he said he would teach me how to shoot an arrow isn't that great." No wonder she was so excited

" Why don't you just let me teach you." Niki asked, obviously looking a little hurt. I mean her dad was literally the god of weapons.

" Well he seems a little bit more...nicer than you are." I looked at Niki expecting her to retaliate but she didn't. Instead she shrugged " Well you're not wrong." She laughed

And daisy bloomed at the top of roses head crown. " Isn't that amazing, they're so nice, well bye I have to go help out some girls in the demeter cabin. Apparently they don't know the difference between an orange, a mandarin and a tangerine isn't that weird." She waved goodbye to us and walked away

" I'm the one who taught her the difference between them and how dare she betray Me." I stabbed my chicken breast with My fork. The flower crown popped up on my head with marigolds.

" Let's go visit the scrolls after dinner. Maybe they got the prophecy wrong." Kayla said, staring at my crown.

I glared at Heeseung as he was talking to the girl that was sitting on the table in front of him.

He smiled up at her nodding at whatever she said then without skipping a beat he looked at me.

Smirking

" Yeah, let's go tonight."

_________

Everyone in my cabin was sleeping making it a good time to slip out. Usually we would cuddle up on eachother on the floor but since it got so hot tonight we opted to sleep in our beds.

I quietly opened the door, stepping out and closing it. I looked Both ways making sure no one was out doing nightly patrol and I ran across the way to the ares cabin. I saw the window was cracked open.

I kicked at the dirt under my feet making a dent in the dirt then I bent down hovering my hand over the spot. A spout popped out of the ground. I waved my fingers making the plant grow longer and longer. Once it reached my shoulder I directed it in the Crack of the window.

I went over the beds of the sleeping people all the way to niki's bed.

She had the cover thrown off her sprawled out on her bed feet and arms dangling off. I gently cast the flower bud down to her face, shaking it a little, causing it to tickle her nose. Niki swatted and rolled over

I groaned, blooming the plant into a sunflower and smacking her with it causing her to sit up quickly.

She rubbed her eyes looking at the flower frowning then at the window. "Let's go." I whispered. She huffed pulling her basketball shorts down a little and fixing her bonnet.

" i'm not taking this off." She retorted back pointing to her head. She grabbed a zip up and quietly walked out her cabin.

" This scroll better not waste any time tonight or I'm burning it." She stumped down the stairs and I followed.

We started walking to the Aphrodite cabin getting ready to wake Kayla when she stepped out. She had on a silk pink robe with a matching silk bonnet, she also had a white face mask on

" I could hear you a mile away. Let's make this quick. I need at least 8 hours of beauty sleep." She walked past us and started walking to the counselors office building.

Me and Niki rolled our eyes and caught up with her trying to discreetly make it to the office without being seen by the Apollo kids who were guarding the camp.

We ran to the office, entering and closing the door. " Okay I saw Dionysus head to the other side of camp with Chiron probably to discuss the fury problems that's been happening so we have at least an hour."

We headed up to the attic where the scroll was. " This place was always so creepy to me." Kayla said, looking around at the Cobwebs and fanning her face.

" This place is disgusting." She groaned, swatting the air around her. " Well I'm sorry your highness it doesn't smell like the new Chanel perfume or roses."

Niki retorted back, making me stifle a laugh and making Kayla glare at us.

The scroll was sitting there with its head down in the old rocking chair it was always in.

" Okay wake it up so we can get out of here." Niki groaned pushing me forward, I swatted her hand way." Okay okay." I walked over to it and tapped it 3 times. " Hello scroll ma'am sir whatever you are I would like to have a prophecy." The scroll lifted it head up making me stumble back in fear. It's eyes opened with blue glows of light shining out of it

The prophecy you seek is soon going to come true. 6 demigods being led by one of the big three descendants shall shake the lower and upper kingdoms, changing it forever.

Niki looked at me, dropping her hands, making a sound when they touched her legs. " See nothing new we did this for nothing lets go."

But

We looked at the scroll as it raised its hands

A new danger will be coming soon and it will test you all.

I looked at the girls beside me." That's new."

No one is safe

" turn it off." Kayla said " I said turn it off." She screamed and I waved my hand making the scroll shut down. We looked at eachother fear in all of our eyes. " what..what did it mean by No one is safe." Niki asked. We stared at the scroll as it sat lifeless in the chair. " We have to tell someone." I said. " We have to tell Mr.D." Niki breathed out turning around

" No need."

Dionysus with Jake and Chiron standing beside him were there looking at us.

" What are you doing in my office?" He asked with his arms crossed. Jake was standing beside him smirking.

" snitch." Kayla glared at him

" We can explain." I said looking up at Chiron as he glared at all 3 of us

" Yes you will."

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commanderquinn · 1 year ago

Text

Good Space Chapter 1: Flower

! i dont! keep these posts! updated! like i do! ao3!

that means you're going to find typos and shit (and possibly minor detail changes) that don't match the ao3 version! that's because im not going to bother fixing the tumblr posts until i finish good space as a whole. im only uploading them here as a backup tbh

—

master list / ao3 chapter link

—

She’s the one good thing about trips to medical in the Avenger’s Tower.

Every other day, at her direct insistence, her lab is the only place in the entire wing that he’s willing to go to. It smells warm and safe, nothing like the antiseptic that makes him want to break a limb. For the first two weeks, he tries to tell her that she doesn’t have to do this. He’s been looking after the link from his arm to his brain for years. There’s never been a problem with it that he couldn’t handle, and he’ll come back if anything ever feels off. No matter how much Steve hovers, she doesn’t need to waste her time on this.

By the start of the third week, he can’t bring himself to suggest that anymore.

—

psa: there’s some gross ass (sometimes detailed) nazi medical shit all through this fic, so if lobotomy talk of any kind is a no for you, skim over any brain talk. your best bet is just to skip the lab scenes where you can ❤️

fic title is a song by skrillex! we needed bouncy shit that vague hinted at plot. the chapter title is a moby song to lay out the v i b e s 👾 im always going to list these, so y’all have a song to listen to while reading

all i can think that needs to be said for canon clarity (ill make it all clear over time dw) is post-WS buckaroo got picked up by steve and sam to be taken for a shower and therapy. no civil war, no age of ultron. we're taking parts of it and doing other shit, you'll see. fury’s publicly alive and director again, shield got flushed out because mmmmm i said so i guess. no red room here. its not about nat, the lack of consent history hanging between them isnt something i want with this. i want to focus on other parts of their trauma bond. alsomaybeishipnatwithsomeoneinthis.

im sorry, but i never started wanda content on my end, and AI jarvis is comfy nostalgia i want to play in, so likely not a lot for her here. yes, we will be having shuri bully bucky, ofc, she’s the pin that holds this whole plot together (what else is new)

oh and i treat bucky’s arm as more of an atompunk feel rather than “the nazi’s had bleeding edge limb tech in ww2 that only affects bucky’s arm, definitely not anything else”

other than that, we’re firmly in good ‘ol stark tech magic and too many open wiki pages for all my plot device needs

also my grammar aint the good. i write these mf's in my spare time while baked af, you're gonna have to give a bitch a break babes 👾

—

Febuary 17th, 2018

"That's not what I'm asking about."

Tony throws up his hands from the other side of the conference table, then lets them smack back down against the polished surface dramatically. "Illuminate me then, Rogers. I'm running out of ways to explain that she's the best I've got to offer for this."

Steve pushes a hand through his hair with a frustrated huff. "I'm not a brain surgeon."

"No shit, that's what she's here for."

"I meant that I don't know what the fuck I'm looking at."

"Now I know you're worried if you're willing to," Tony clutches at the front of his shirt in mock horror, "swear in public." Pepper smacks his shoulder without even looking up from her tablet. The sight would make Steve smile under normal circumstances.

"You can hand me any resume you want, Tony. I'm telling you that I won't be able to see a difference. I know you're giving me a team who can do the work; I'm asking if they can do it while it's Bucky."

"Are you worried about his safety or theirs?" Pepper asks, finally looking over. Her tone isn't judgemental. If anything, it's veering towards the gentleness it has when she's talking Tony down.

"I'm not worried about theirs. I will be there every time. Even if he has a bad day, I'll make sure that—look. Nothing's going to happen. It's just...." Steve flips open the folder he's been carrying for a week. The edges of it are starting to wear down at this point. Sighing, he slides his summary notes to their side of the table. "He still doesn't... he doesn't talk about the previous escapes. No matter what his therapist tries. He just can't bring himself to do it. But it's not hard to get a clear picture of what used to happen. He does this every time. He builds himself a strong house, then a fallback point, and then he goes to work trying to fix all the damage alone, which he'll never be able to do. No one could. And there's not going to be a goon squad rolling in to drag him back anymore, so he's just going to—"

"Yeah, yeah, push him to help him; I grasped the concept the first hundred times," Tony cuts in. If he weren't so damn anxious, Steve might honestly feel bad about being so far up everyone's ass over this. "You've got me on board. So, what's the concern here? Will she quit the first time he bites her head off? That's a pretty chauvinist perspective, especially coming from you."

"She's had to put up with Tony long enough to befriend him; that should be proof enough." Pepper smiles as the nightmare himself points toward her in silent agreement.

Steve raises his hands amicably. "I'm not trying to insult anyone's professionalism. I'm sure she's had more than her fair share of problem patients to get where she is today. I'm... I'm more asking if—Christ. I'm sorry in advance, alright? But... Tony, I need you to look me in the eye and tell me that you'd have trusted her to get you home."

A stiff, all-consuming silence falls over the spare meeting room. Pepper and Steve waiting on bated breath; Tony frozen as he looks back at him with an expressionless face.

Steve despises himself for doing this to him. The knowledge of what happened in that cave is something the man is unimaginably protective over. It took years—and a night of blackout drinking on Tony's end—for the story to even slip out of him. Talking about Yinsen is the only time Steve's seen him cry that he can remember. It was just one overflow, barely even two tears that got scrubbed off his cheeks within the first minute, but it was there. It's the only way Steve knows to get his point across.

Tony looks down at the table and adjusts his posture. His head shifts and his lips purse in that signature move of his, the one that comes up when he's forced to be a person. With feelings. Pepper's arm moves, no doubt taking his hand under the table.

He looks back up, meeting Steve's eyes as his posture relaxes. "I wish they could have met. I think Yin would have gotten a kick out of her fashion taste. I think she'd have gotten an even bigger one out of putting him in it."

It's the most ringing endorsement he's ever heard the man give. More importantly, Steve knows just how much weight sits behind the guarded words.

—

"I've got their personnel files if you want them. They all volunteered them to you willingly."

"I'm alright."

"Do you want their names ahead of time?"

"No."

"Not even their first ones?"

"They can tell them to me."

"Okay."

"...."

"...What are they?"

"The ones that'll be behind the glass are Hannah and Wyatt." Of course Steve knows to start there, where his nerves will fixate the most. Asshole. "You probably won't even talk to the two of them today, but your main doctor for this will definitely offer to let you. Her name is Ava. She's going to check in with you for confirmation on a lot of things before she does them. I shadowed her for over a week, asshole. It's not about you; she does it for everyone."

Bucky grunts. "I wouldn't have jumped on her for it."

"No, you'd have sat there brooding like a petulant jackass instead, probably making her feel bad." Steve pauses for a long moment, fiddling with the paper coffee cup in his hands. "You should read Hannah's file, Buck."

"Why?" He shouldn't ask. He can hear the motive sitting in his best friend's voice. It's a fucking trap, and he fucking knows it, but he also can't stop himself.

"Her last name is Schuster."

He absolutely despises the way the situation makes his gut clench. They're dead. They're all dead, and the ones in their place have been declawed for much longer than he's been off ice. He's probably not even going to talk to the woman, at least not today. He might catch the sight of a name on a coat, however. Or on a chart.

He wanted to do this without letting old habits in. He wanted to at least start this feeling like a person, not a weapon. But he gets why the dickhead is trying to baby-step him into it.

Bucky holds out his hand. Steve silently passes him the tablet he keeps. Neither of them says a word as he reads the SHEILD file to himself, line by line. Taking in a stranger's entire professional life. Her family, her known associates, every residence she's ever held. It takes a moment of hovering his finger over the subfolder with her medical records to talk himself down from opening it. Nothing is lingering in those shadows; Steve wouldn't allow it. That's not a line he needs to cross anymore.

He hands it back when he's done. "The other two?"

"Nothing I could think of. Ava's seen your hard limit list—you remember I told you I was gonna give it to one of your—?"

"I remember. It's okay. That's why you have it."

"Yeah." Steve takes another long pause. "You remember that she knows—"

"I know."

"Good. The others don't. She says they don't need to for any of it, and it's never going on record again." He looks over out of the corner of his eye. "She's going to bring it up today."

"I had a hunch."

"I just wanted to make sure it didn't surprise you."

"I know."

"Good." Steve picks up his coffee to drain the last of it in one swig. He tosses the empty cup into a trashcan by the wall a few tables over before looking back at him. He extends his now-empty hand. "Ready?"

"Not in the fucking least." Bucky raises his hand to lock with his best friends momentarily. "Let's go."

There's no wing in this tower—and he's been through all of them by now—that he dislikes more than medical. The place makes his skin feel like a thousand goddamn spiders are crawling all over him, and the smell of it, fuck. It sits in his head like a fog while it burns up the inside of his nose, making him want to break anything touching any part of him. He'd make Steve be here with him no matter what; that's a given. But the fact that there's going to be a doctor poking at him today while he's trying to power through it all makes the guy's presence non-negotiable. Bucky needs the safety net for the good of everyone in that room.

Steve doesn't try for talking to distract him, mercifully enough. There are times when it helps. Today isn't going to be one of them. He doesn't even have to bring it up for Steve to know, and the reminder that he's understood helps his nerves. It's been an incredibly long time since he had an incident. He's proud of every last one of those days. He won't be upset with himself—well. He'll try not to be upset with himself if that streak ends. But he really, really wants that day not to be today.

Bucky treats it like a mission. He's braced and ready for the antiseptic when they first get through the entrance. He doesn't flinch or huff through his nose at the invasion, not even as they make their way to the specialized divisions. He's walked these hallways before; he's walked every single one in the tower. It was the only way he could get himself to sleep during his first week here. Aside from a few trips to the emergency intake, he hasn't had to force himself back.

He's definitely never bothered with meeting the specialists themselves. It took long enough to convince himself not to memorize the names of every staff member in the tower. He doesn't need to do that anymore. That's what his therapist and the Star Spangled Spandex keep insisting, anyways.

The door Steve goes for sticks out against the sleek hallway long before they reach it. It's painted, and not just a solid color; it's covered with a garden scene done by several different hands, going by the skill variation. Bucky runs his thumb over one of the hundreds of flowers as they walk past it to feel how thick the tiny acrylic mountains are. One of the petals cracks under the light pressure of the move, making him frown. The mural's not sealed at all, despite being long dried. Not the kind of thing maintenance usually overlooks.

An absolute shock of color hits Bucky's eyes when he gets his first look at the neurosurgeon's office. The walls he can spot from this side of the entryway are lined with tie-dye hanging cloths, and the floor is covered in fluffed-up, vibrant rugs. There's not a hint of SHIELD regulation left in the architecture, with all the walls that aren't glass holding even more heavy paint globs. Some of the murals are more flowers, but a majority of them are space themed.

The stench of antiseptic fades the farther into the room Bucky goes. By the time the door shuts behind him, it's entirely replaced with the warm aroma of apples and cinnamon. A long, curved desk is off to one corner, pushed against the glass wall overlooking the city and covered in picture frames. An arrangement of chairs piled with pillows matching the rest of the decor sits in the center. Each one of them is fucking massive.

The room itself is separated in half by a thick glass wall. He can spot two doctors sitting behind an array of equipment on the other, equally decorated side behind the glass. There isn't any creative paint in there from what he can spot. If it weren't for that, he could almost forget that he's standing in a medical lab.

Almost.

"Hi there," comes a voice to his right.

The woman it belongs to almost blends in with the office once Bucky turns his head to look at her. The lab coat that comes down to her knees is a solid blue rather than tye-dye, but it's covered in stitched designs. Most of them are shaped like bees. Bucky barely stops his eyebrows from raising at the sight of the outfit underneath. Loose cloth pants hanging low on her hips, with even more bees on them, and a hand-knit top that would have been called obscene during most of the decades he woke up in. The bun she's pulled her hair into must have been done this morning; more than a few bundles are hanging down haphazardly. Bucky hasn't met a lot of brain surgeons that he knows of, but he doesn't remember any of them having glasses as thick as hers. He's pretty sure that good vision is something most of them need for the job. Not that he's nervous.

She walks over with a warm smile, already extending a hand to him. She's a short, round little thing. Barely five feet, if his guess is accurate. It always is. "I'm Dr. Ryder. You can call me Ava. I'm told you're my newest patient."

He accepts the shake with a nod and tries not to think about how sweaty his hand might feel to her. Wiping it against his pants would have been too weird. "James."

"But you prefer Bucky, right?"

"Yes, ma'am. Ava," he corrects himself quickly.

"Oooh, someone's stepped on some toes in the new century." Her smile takes on a teasing edge. "I'm originally from Canada; you won't find me taking offense. Ingrained cultural manners are a bitch to hold back."

"Careful, they're the only manners he's got," Steve warns, already heading for one of the chairs.

"Ignore him. I'm house-trained," Bucky assures her. Taking his hand back, he hikes a thumb over his shoulder, needing something to stall with. "You sure you don't want someone to give your door a few clear coats? It'd be a shame to see all that work chip off."

Ava waves dismissively. "We redo it a lot; it's a relaxation project around here. It'll look different pretty soon." She points toward the glass wall separating the two halves of the office. "I've got the rest of the team working on a project to give us some space, but I can bring them in for a minute if you'd like to meet them?"

"I'm... I'm alright for now, thanks. I can meet them—whenever."

She doesn't insist further or comment on the blatant nerves in his voice. Her hand waves at the arranged chairs as she moves to sit in one. "Take your pick of the lineup, then. Typically I'd offer to take you to the corner of the roof that we've claimed for ourselves as an alternative. But, I need to keep you in environmental controls for sanitation, at least for the initial visit."

Bucky nods a few times as he sits in the one next to Steve's. His ass sinks nearly a foot into nothing but pillows, and his spine goes rigid. "Here's fine."

He'd have said no anyways, not that he'll mention that. Too many open sight lines with his anxiety on edge. He'll be revisiting the roof before his next appointment to familiarize himself, though, that's for sure. His last trip up there was long before she was even hired. The mental image of bead strings and tye-dye throw blankets on patio furniture flits through his head. If she decorates the same way everywhere, he's guessing it won't be all that hard to find the space.

Ava pulls up a tablet from the coffee table to rest in the middle of her folded legs. He's guessing she's into yoga in her spare time. One of her eyebrows arches at them in amusement. "You know, I've never actually seen someone fill one of these before now."

"The benefits of dosed living," Steve quips, his tone a little too positive. It makes Bucky's foot start to bounce silently against the floor on instinct.

If she notices, the doctor doesn't mention it as she focuses on Bucky. "Steve tells me you prefer when doctors keep things direct with you."

Bucky shifts his eyes over to the man in question, who busies himself with one of the pillows, picking at the hanging fringe. Fucker's going to be hearing about this later, that's for damn sure.

He looks back at Ava. Time to get it over with, he encourages himself. "Yeah, if you don't mind."

"Not at all. I know Steve's already told you, but I want you to hear it from my mouth. I have The Soldier's activation memorized."

He can't stop the gut instinct to swallow over hearing the words, but he nods. "I'm okay with it."

"It's not in any of my notes; it never will be. My team understands that there is a specific trigger in place; they need to in order to do their job. But they have no indication of what it is. I'll never write the words out or speak them where they can be picked up. Steve helped me with the pronunciation and the order when he first gave me your records, but you have my word that I won't be repeating them."

"You should," Bucky insists immediately. "If anything happens, you should, and you shouldn't hesitate about it."

"She knows, Buck," Steve assures him with a murmur. "I took her through the worst case drill. She's got a panic button on her."

"Steve tells me that my reaction time is fast enough for working on your case safely." Ava's head tilts to the side slightly. "Your comfort is the priority here. We can always run through a silent drill together if you'd like the reassurance."

He thinks about it. Honest to god, he lets himself sit in the idea of putting Steve's training to the test for more than a few moments. Neither of them push him for an answer. "I might take you up on that at some point."

She nods, the hair hanging closest to her face bouncing slightly. "Whenever you want. That offer is permanent. I'm taking this case on because I want to help undo what's been done; I'm not here to let it be continued, not even in research." Her eyes shift to Steve, with a bitter defiance building in them. "I trust that'll be clarified to the director if our work here ever reaches his ears, captain."

Steve nods, finally looking up from where he's moved on to picking at the pillow's stitches. "There's no more mud in that water. Fury understands how far over the line we went."

Ava doesn't look convinced in the least. Bucky doesn't blame her, not with the scattered memories of his role in all of it sitting in his head. When she looks back at him, the distrust leaves her eyes. "I'd like to get a better idea of what we'll be working with. I know that's probably going to be one of the most difficult parts of this, so we can try to get through it now if you'd like. Or we can wait until you're feeling more comfortable. It's entirely up to you."

Shifting slightly to straighten out his shoulders, Bucky nods. "I'm ready now."

It's an outright lie, but that doesn't really matter anymore. There's never going to be a time when he is ready. He still needs to do this.

"I'm going to need to adjust your head a few times today," she tells him with a relaxed, melodic tone as she stands up. She lifts a black briefcase from the coffee table and brings it over to rest on the arm of his chair, where he can easily see it being handled. "Is there anywhere you'd prefer me putting my hands? Or anywhere specific you want me to avoid?"

Bucky sees Steve shift his head slightly in his peripheral and wants to roll his eyes. Asshole. He'd have made a joke at the most; he wouldn't have been insulted. Probably. "I can't think of anywhere to steer you away from. You're good to do whatever you need to do."

She doesn't take him into the other section of the room like he thought she would. She doesn't even make him stand back up. All it takes to get the nightmare he's been dreading for years started is Ava pulling a wired, plastic wreath from the briefcase to put over the top of his head. She doesn't push a cold faceplate over his eye and against his temples; no bite guard gets shoved in his mouth. There's no frigid metal probing into the top of his neck to make his teeth buzz until he wants to rip them out of his jaw. The air around him isn't humid and suffocating like it was in that bunker. He can't hear the hum of electric coils or the squeak of leather boots on linoleum.

He's not in Siberia. He's in New York. This isn't a HYDRA agent strapping him down. This is a hippie, who definitely smoked pot this morning, putting a sensor on his head that barely has any weight.

"Here, hold this for me," she tells him from behind his chair, offering her tablet over his shoulder. He takes it silently, bringing it to rest in both hands. A digital scan of his brain is already being mapped out on the screen. It's the first time he's seen the anchor that wraps around his brainstem since the X-rays HYDRA used to leave up like trophies. "We can get a look at this thing together."

Bucky takes a deep breath in. It's… not a pretty sight. Whatever they put in him isn't registering in the bright blue lights of the rest of his brain. They're all dark spots, primarily lines branching out from the anchor that might as well be a black hole.

"You see that?" Ava leans forward to run her nail up the path of one of the lines. It starts at the anchor, and it's attached to another point further up, but that junction is the source of even more lines that go all over. There's a fucking mechanical spider web in his brain. "That's your motor cortex, and those links are tethered to your arm, starting there. That—the one right there—is what's making your cybernetics work."

"What's the rest of it?" There's a fucking lot of it, whatever it is. A lot more than he remembers being put in.

"Considering the intent of the Nazis that had you, the end goal was probably total control." Her finger moves, tapping several things that look way too fucking important as she keeps talking. "All of those there are connected to your essential functions: breathing, heart rate, consciousness. From there, they branched out into trying for control over your limbs. Jesus." She leans further over his shoulder and pinches at the screen to zoom in. "It looks like they were already building into your entire cognitive process."

"What does that mean?" Steve asks, worry rising in his tone.

"It means they were reckless on top of being cruel. And fucking stupid—pardon my French."

"You're talking to soldiers, doc," Bucky reminds her quietly, his brows drawn in as his eyes trace the black spots in his grey matter.

"Right. In that case, fuck every last one of them and the horses they rode... into whichever circle of hell they're burning in, I guess." Bucky's lips twitch slightly as she zooms back out. "They were venturing into parts of the brain that haven't been studied enough for human testing, even by today's standards. Blindly poking just to see what worked; my guess is because they knew that you could survive it. You see that big scary thing under your hippocampus?"

Bucky nods as she taps at the anchor. "Yeah. Yeah, that was… that was the first part. That got put in, I mean." He clears his throat when it starts to scratch. "I'm. I'm pretty sure it was the first part."

"Do you want to know why you don't feel sure?" she asks gently. Her voice has dropped to something much softer. It makes him sit back in the overly comfortable chair incrementally.

"Yeah," he tells her quietly, honestly. He wouldn't have a year ago.

Ava circles her finger around the center of his brain, where one of the more prominent lines from the anchor holds several thinner, black branches. "That's your limbic system. It controls emotion, memory, behavioral habits, that kind of thing. They fried it at some point trying to get to your memories, I assume. My team has the photograph from your HYDRA file, the one with the X-ray from your initial brain surgery. I've studied it with my own eyes. That serum in your bloodstream is the only thing that brought you back from being a vegetable. The salvaged notes from the initial facility they kept you in mention months of unresponsiveness and varying levels of brain activity.

"There's a reason you can't remember who you were then, Bucky. They wiped you clean because they knew you, out of all their test subjects, could recover from it. There wasn't enough left of your mind to hold memories, much less any kind of higher will." He hears her clothes shuffle behind him and sees Steve turn his head to look back at her from the corner of his eye. "I'm more than willing to testify to that in any court on Earth, captain. So we're clear."

"Understood," Steve replies, his voice thick. "I appreciate that."

Fuck, so does Bucky. Too bad he can't get his throat to open back up at the moment.

"Now, let's talk about the hard part." He hears Ava sigh. "From what I can see, there's no way we can remove any of this. Not by any standard that I'm willing to entertain, at least."

Bucky shakes his head and tries clearing his throat again. It doesn't feel anywhere near as successful this time around. "That's fine. I don't—I don't think I'd… I wouldn't be ready for that. I just want to know it's not…."

"Capable of being controlled remotely?" she offers when he trails off.

"Yeah. Aside from the code. I don't—that's not a problem. They're dead. Anyone else that had it, I mean." Christ, his foot's going to bounce straight out of his boot, right through the leather.

"I can't make any kind of assurances at this stage when it comes to that. But you have my word that it will be my team's primary focus." Her hand pulls back, and he feels four of her fingertips lightly rest on his shoulder. "I'd prefer to check that connection point they left over your spinal cord before you leave today, but the rest of what we need for diagnostics can wait until another time."

Bucky pulls in a heavy breath through his nose. "Yeah. I'm ready to do that."

"I need to get a few things for it and check in with my team." She taps at the side of the wreath lightly. "You don't have to keep looking at the scan, but you should leave this on while I'm gone so we can get some basic readings."

"You're the boss, doc." He tries not to make it look like he's in a hurry to get the thing out of his hand when he dumps the tablet on his leg.

"I'll be back in just a bit," she tells them, calmly shuffling off into the other half of the office. The glass door hisses loudly as she goes through it, confirming it's a sterile lab. The wall frosts over shortly after with the privacy screen activating.

Neither of them says a word for the first few minutes.

"Well," Steve finally offers up, his voice still as thick as when he thanked the doctor. "There's the confirmation you've been waiting for."

"That's not what that was—"

"Alright, you know what? Fuck you very much, Buck—"

"Fuck me? Fuck me? Yeah, I guess that's how it works now, what with you making alll the fucking calls—"

Steve's finger comes sailing into his face. "This affects more than just—" He stops with a short, muted groan and yanks his hand back to shove through his hair. After a moment, he lets it fall to his thigh in a clenched fist. "You want to sit here blaming yourself for it all, fine. I've got no right to tell you to stop when I'm still doing the exact same thing. But I'm pulling you through this whether," his voice goes high and mocking as he turns to glare a hole into the side of Bucky's head, "yooou like it or not. I let you fall once; I'm not fucking doing it again, asshole."

Bucky stares down a lava lamp sitting on the coffee table for a long, silent moment, his face pinched. He counts the number of wiggling blobs floating from the top to the bottom. He takes in their shared color and picks as close to a stupid paint name for it as possible. One by one, his photographic memory goes down the list of stupid colors from that stupid swatch wall at the stupid art supply store that Steve takes him to when he can't sleep at three in fucking the morning. He decides on fuchsia because it sounds extra stupid. There're twelve in total, they're fuchsia, and his best friend is as stupid as the name of their color.

The anger eventually eases up. "You're the asshole."

Steve sits back in his chair with a sigh. "Love you, too."

It takes a long minute of grinding his teeth for Bucky to force out the question that won't stop echoing in his head. "She doesn't know about the others?"

"She knows there were other attempts, but no, I didn't tell her any of them were successful. I left my notes in her file on what's been held back from her, along with the things she knows that her team doesn't. You can tell her whatever you want; that's up to you. I really think you should read through all of their files."

"Yeah?" Bucky snaps mockingly. "I really think you should kiss my ass."

Steve reaches out to grab one of the magazines from a stack on the coffee table. His posture is resigned and absolutely screaming I know better than you right now, idiot. "You should grow the fuck up."

—

There's no way the notes from HYDRA cover all his surgeries, not with this much framework built up inside his brain.

Steve warned her to expect something like this. The bastards passed Bucky around like a science experiment over the decades. Whenever a station was compromised, all of its records were destroyed to safeguard HYDRA's critical secrets, the work and confirmed existence of the Winter Soldier being one of them. Only a handful were raided by SHEILD efficiently enough to prevent further loss of his medical history. What remains is the scattered works of solitary minds spanned across decades.

In Ava's opinion, not one of those minds should have been granted the mercy of seeing daylight again after their senseless, abhorrent, despicable crimes against the sergeant. Never in her life has she been a violent woman, but given a blunt object and five minutes with the lot of them, she'd have been very tempted to rebalance nature with ruthless gusto.

A hand nudges at her arm, pulling her from her distraction with a quick inhale. "Sorry, repeat that?"

Wyatt's eyebrows pull in sympathetically. "Y'can hand this part off to one of us, boss."

"You can hand it off to him," Hannah interrupts briskly, her eyes never moving from where they're pressed against a microscope.

"Y'can hand it off to me," Wyatt rapidly corrects with a warm smile. He drums his stylus against his arm and leans against the lab's center console. The movable hologram program Tony gifted them is already building detail into one of the darkest acts in human history. Right there, in front of one of the most gentle souls Ava's ever met. The contrast makes her stomach drop. "I mean it; y'know me, I got a real sweet touch. Betch'a the sergeant wouldn't even know I'd been there til it was over."

"Don't make me say it, Combs." Hannah almost sounds bored. The former marine is in a good mood today.

Wyatt doesn't even bother with throwing a quip back at her. He's usually wise enough to know when he's in a losing battle. Reaching out, he gives Ava's shoulder a supportive bump. "You said so yourself; he's alright with meetin' us."

Ava shakes her head, bringing her hand up to rub at the bridge of her nose. Her eyes are stinging hard enough to make them water. She shouldn't have pulled an all-nighter before this; it definitely isn't helping her frustration. "He's okay with it; that doesn't mean he's ready for it. You should see the way he's practically vibrating in that chair. There's not one part of this he isn't forcing himself through. I want to try to limit contact until he feels like he's in control of the space around him."

"That won't take long," Hannah comments quietly, reaching for another slide. "There are certain habits infiltrators don't lose."

"Speakin' from your own experience on that one?" Wyatt asks, curiosity creeping into his tone. Their eternal beacon of southern sunshine has yet to give up chasing details about her, unlike everyone else who visits their little medical corner.

"Infiltrator is not the classification I would have given myself. I was never very subtle in my old line of work."

"Yeah, 'cause subtle's definitely the word I'd pick for your blunt ass now." Wyatt rolls his eyes and extends his hand to rapidly spin the projection of Bucky's brain with the flick of a stubby finger. "Either'a you looked at these trenches much yet? There's different cablin' in every major section. None of it's got a set standard, far as I can tell."

"I don't think he ever had the same doctor for more than two surgeries." Ava leans heavily against the console with a sigh, trying not to let herself venture into the mindset of a terrified soldier. She has to stay detached, or this will eat her alive before they're even halfway done. The enlarged hologram already hurts to look at in more ways than one. "Steve confirmed that HYDRA intermittently lost sections of his records through the years. All of this could be fractured by the decades; we won't know until Paige starts getting a read on the programming behind that main port."

"How do you want us to handle data transfer?" Hannah asks.

"Let's keep this off our internal server as much as we can help it. Tony sectioned off a virtual instance that we can burn when needed, but the only time you should be using that is for his scans. Put everything else on an isolated hard copy here in the lab, wherever you can do it without hindering the work. I want the equipment analysis kept as off-record as possible. I don't want this being recreated. By anyone."

"Definitely agreein' with you on that one, boss." Wyatt pokes his finger into the projection's left frontal lobe, halting its slowing spin. "I know we said extraction ain't the goal here, but I'm gonna be runnin' some sims on that when I've got the time. I don't like the idea of leavin' any'a this shit in, even if we do get it identified and nuked."

Ava nods and reaches up to give his shoulder a warm squeeze. "Let me know what initial paths you route; we can build from there. I doubt he'll be ready for any extensive work for years to come, but the least we can do is present him with some options." She takes a deep breath through her nose as she looks over the port connection on the hologram. "Alright, I'll be back after I finish his consultation."

"Good luck, boss," Wyatt encourages with a smile. "Tell the sergeant we said hi."

She waves her hand over her shoulder with a hum and braces herself to face her latest patient again.

The sergeant himself is sitting just as stiffly as he was when she left, but the captain has moved on to relaxing with a magazine in his hands. They both look up at the sound of the door opening, with a laid-back smile on Steve's face and a forced one on Bucky's. She almost wants to tell him that he doesn't have to make an attempt.

"Sorry for the wait; needed a quick check-in with the brain trust." And to not want to throw something heavy through Tony's fancy glass walls. "They wanted me to pass along their hello's. Dr. Combs, in particular, is very excited to meet you."

Bucky huffs a silent laugh through his nose as she returns to stand at the side of his chair. She doesn't try to move behind him for the moment. "Yeah, I'm sure I'm real—"

"Buck," Steve cuts in softly with a side eye in his best friend's direction.

"Fascinating?" Bucky's eyes lift to Ava's at her teasing guess, and his responding nod is sheepish. She smiles at the attempted manners. "Your case is as interesting as it is horrific, that's for sure. Lucky for you, we're a morbid bunch, so you can go for the gallows humor whenever you want." She taps at Bucky's arm with the pad of her index finger, trying to warm him up to repeat physical contact. "However, I'm pretty sure Wyatt is looking forward to asking for your autograph above everything."

The sergeant's eyebrows rocket toward his hairline. "What's he looking for? Love, The Winter Soldier?"

"Bucky." Steve doesn't even look over this time; he just drops one side of the magazine to pinch the bridge of his nose.

The sight of an exasperated Captain America sitting in her office makes Ava snort loudly. She doesn't miss the way it makes Bucky's lips raise at the corners. "He comes from a long line of history buffs who believe accurate preservation is the best tool to prevent it from repeating. The guy grew up with battle models and field testimonials from every major war. I'm guessing he had some Howling Commando envy as a kid, though he won't own up to that on his end."

"He knows I was one of them for all of five minutes, right?"

"None of us were Howlies for long," Steve forcefully insists, one foot coming over to kick Buckys. "But that doesn't change the good we did while we were."

"It also won't stop him from chewing your ear off about it if you let him." Ava crosses her arms over her chest in amusement. "My advice is to stop him early. Definitely before he starts asking what you remember about the maps. You've got a real Milo Thatch working on your brain now." Bucky looks up at her in confusion. "Haven't gotten around to Disney movies yet? Milo's a character from Atlantis, one of my personal favorites. He and Wyatt share a certain level of academic excitement."

"I'll add it to the watch list." A small smile comes up, making her wonder what his cheeks look like when he really lets it go. "And keep the point of no return in mind."

She stops herself from gushing about the beauty of the art behind the movie, wanting to honor his headfirst approach. "You ready to get the last part of today's visit over with?"

His shoulders rise with another resigned intake, making her want to be ferociously violent toward the closest available Nazi. "I'm ready when you are, doc."

"My go-to hardware specialist built a prototype connector based on the scans Tony got during your initial intake. It's only the first iteration for the sake of data extraction, so be sure to speak up if anything feels off. Anything at all, even if it's just minor discomfort. She can work on changing it for the next build. I'm sure Steve can attest to Paige's efficiency at her job by now."

The slightest hint of a blush comes over the captain's cheeks at the teasing mention of his numerous visits to the engineering department. "Ms. Findley—"

"Does she ask you to call her that?" Bucky jumps on his best friend with immediately. Ava would feel bad about chumming the waters, but the banter is making him relax against the chair.

Steve shuts his mouth momentarily. The blush gets a shade darker before he opens it again. "Paige is a very dedicated worker. And a lovely conversationalist. How do you two know each other? Through Tony?"

Now Ava really does feel bad. She puts a hand on her hip and tries to keep her smile from growing. "No, I'm the one who introduced them. She's been my best friend for about fifteen years now."

Steve freezes, and Bucky's grin takes over the lower half of his face. The sergeant sits all the way back, with shoulders that are perfectly at ease. "Oh, good. If I think of anything later, I can just have Stevie drop it off for me. I'd hate to forget between appointments."

Ava pulls the wireless reader and its port connector from the briefcase on Bucky's chair. She steps up behind him and tries not to let her eyes linger on how his smile lights up his face or how it warms her chest to see. Her free hand comes to rest on his left shoulder, leaving the exit door in his right peripherals. "This shouldn't take more than a few minutes at most. Ready?"

"Hit me." It almost doesn't sound forced.

She lifts his hair and runs her thumb over the port once to brace him for the new sensations before lining up the connector. As she'd explicitly requested of Paige, the mechanism doesn't snap into place when she locks it in, meaning there's no responding vibration to move through his skull. The notes from Bucky's therapist that were passed along didn't mention it, but they hardly mention anything at all. There's a lot he's holding back, there has to be, and she's been trying to preempt as much of it as she can.

Bucky's nails dig into the arm of the chair, and he inhales sharply. After a moment, his fingers start to relax one by one. Ava watches them all, her eyes moving between his hands and neck repeatedly, while the reader begins its data harvest. She gives him long enough to get a few steady breaths in.

"Have you started any animated movie binges?" she prods, wanting to stall for time to get a closer look at his implant. With him letting her hold up his hair like this, it might be her only chance for the foreseeable future.

"Sam's gotten me to sit through a few of his picks," he replies tensely.

"Mmm. I'm guessing Mister Feathers is a Pixar fan."

"I know that's an animation studio, but that's the extent of my expertise on the subject. Are they the ones who made Lilo and Stitch?"

"He did not make you watch that one first."

"He did, but that's technically not my first animated movie. We had them back in the 30s, you know."

"Some of us still call it animation's golden age," Steve mutters in the most crotchety old artist fashion, his eyes back on the magazine in his lap.

"Take a look around this room, Rogers," Ava sasses. "Do I look like someone who'd argue with you about its significance?"

"Point taken."

Her eyebrows pull in while she looks over just how much of Bucky's spinal cord is exposed to outside influence. She knows how far the port runs thanks to the scans, but now she's getting an eyeful of movable hatching and flesh that will never get the proper chance to heal.

"How are you handling the daily care of this?" she asks, running her finger around one edge of the port.

"I do it," Bucky tells her simply.

Her eyes lock on the back of his head in disbelief. "You do… what, exactly?"

"I've got a morning routine for it. Clear the excess buildup, sterilize the whole area, work the skin, that kind of thing."

"You understand that this has direct access to your brainstem, right?"

"I know." He shifts his weight in the chair. "I'm careful."

"I have several medical degrees, one of which is entirely focused on the human brain, and even I would hesitate to approach this on my own body. If anything that can give you so much as a hundred-degree fever touches this, you're dead, Bucky." She lets the hand not holding up his hair come to rest on his shoulder. "I'm not trying to scare you with this, but as your doctor, I need to make sure you understand the severity here. I don't want you doing this yourself anymore; I want you to come to my office for it."

"That's not necessary—"

"What time do you want him here in the mornings?" Steve asks, ignoring Bucky entirely.

"I don't need to come here in the mornings—"

"It doesn't have to be every morning," Ava offers, wanting to give him a compromise. She's definitely not letting him go back to doing it himself. "I can set up a stable cleaning routine every other day whenever you have the time to come in."

"I have it handled, really—"

"I wouldn't push it past three days, though."

"Every other morning," Steve agrees. "That's perfect. JARVIS can keep an eye on the schedules for him."

"I've got working fucking eyeballs," Bucky almost shouts, making Ava and Steve finally let up.

She squeezes her hand on his shoulder, half in apology, half in sympathy. "Yes, you do. But they happen to be in the front of your head. My eyes can see the back of your neck without a mirror, and they've got a decade's worth of disgustingly thorough medical training behind them. You came here because you're ready for this to get done. Now you actually have to let me do it."

Bucky lifts a hand as if he's about to argue but then lowers it with a soft sigh. "Yeah... yeah, alright. But I'm not always going to be here in the mornings—"

"She said it doesn't have to be the mornings," Steve cuts in again.

"You know what I mean, jackass. I'm not always going to be here consistently. I have, you know, a job that you try to boss me around on—"

"We can make sure you've got a trained medic to help—"

"No, Grant."

The words are said softly, and it takes a moment for Ava to even remember that it's the captain's middle name, but something happens in the wake of them. Steve's relentless push stops on a dime, and the fight leaves Bucky's shoulders. The two of them relax marginally, and Steve nods once. "Okay. So, we establish the routine here. Get it ironed out; get you practiced with it. Then I'll clear you for doing it yourself on missions. But if you miss even one while you're here, so help me—"

"I got it, I got it."

Steve watches Bucky with a tightly held expression for another long moment. Then he looks up at Ava with a nod. "He'll be here, and I'll make sure he's not cleared for another mission until you two have a stable routine for taking care of this."

Ava gives Bucky's shoulder another light squeeze. "I promise it'll be quick every time. I'll work with Paige on making you a field kit. In the long run, this shouldn't interrupt your normal day-to-day much at all."

"Appreciate the effort, doc." Bucky gives a soft grunt. "Sorry for the. Y'know. Pushback."

"I think the world owes you a little more than patience as backpay, Sergeant. I'm happy to help where I can."

—

Febuary 19th 2018

"I can handle it if you want me to."

"No. No, I... I can do it."

"You're sure?"

"You think I can't?"

"I think you look like you're about to throw up on my shoes."

"I don't like the idea of... starting off like that."

"That's why I'm offering to do it."

"No. It should be me. There are things you won't be able to explain."

"You can always fill in the blanks when she shows up for Soldat training."

"What a great alternative first impression! Hello, ma'am, not only am I a complete jackass, but I also delegate my role as—"

"You're not delegating; you're assigning the right person to the job. And this takes away the need for you to be a jackass."

"Leaving you to be a confrontational bitch in someone's eyes?"

"What's the issue there?"

"That's not what you are, Nat."

"Says who?"

Steve reaches out to smack the side of her arm. "That's one of my closest friends you're ragging on."

"She can take it." Natasha looks over at him, a bored hike to one brow. "Let's stay focused on what the doctor can take. This won't be like the therapists. We can't put him through multiple doctors on this. We'll only get one or two tries before he draws the hard limit."

He nods, turning his eyes back to the closed elevator doors. "Right. Right, it's for a good reason. I can do it."

"You don't have to. I can handle it."

"I know. But it should be me." He knocks the side of his boot against hers. "Thank you."

"Always. Let me know how it goes."

Natasha's off the elevator before the doors are even finished opening, leaving Steve to collect himself alone. He pushes off the back railing with a heavy sigh. No part of this is going to be easy to stomach. He's accepted that. He exits the elevator with a resigned set to his shoulders.

The medical wing is dark this late into the day. JARVIS already confirmed that the doctor is still in the building. From the AI's reports, she pulls late nights like this regularly. It bodes well for what he'll have to ask of her and her team.

He stops to admire the heavy paint on the outside of the lab's door. There's days worth of work here, clearly a labor of love. It takes until he's admiring the fourth flower of his perusal to notice that it's not all the same artist. He scans it a bit quicker after that, trying to take a guess as to how many different hands took part. His best guess is four.

Accepting that he's been inadvertently stalling, Steve pushes it open roughly. He probably should have expected the onslaught of color in the room from seeing the door. It still hits him hard enough to make him do a double-take through his exaggerated annoyance. The doctor sitting on the other side of a very large desk nearly jumps out of her chair.

"Christ Al-fucking-mighty," she swears, one hand coming up to brace against her chest. Steve gets nailed with a furious glare. "Knock much?"

Well, that's one test passed. "Are you Dr. Ryder?"

"I am. Who the hell wants to—oh." Recognition dawns on her face as Steve gets close enough to be illuminated by her desk light. The fury in her shifts toward indignance. "I happen to hold a lot of respect for you, at least during normal business hours. So, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt here and let you have a moment to explain yourself, captain."

He almost starts with an apology, but he catches himself in time. "I've been told you're one of the best neurosurgeons we're in contact with—"

"No, you've been told I am the best." She crosses her arms over her chest and leans back in her chair. Her head inclines toward him. "You can continue."

Steve's reservations about her being able to handle Bucky are leaving rapidly. It almost makes him smile. He holds it together with his best captain voice. "I need your expertise on a consultation. A private consultation. Completely off SHEILD books."

"Am I being roped into the organization's second overhaul?" There's bitterness lingering in her tone. The kind Steve remembers feeling on his own end for months leading up to Fury's near-assassination.

"No. When I say private, I mean private. This isn't under SHIELD purview. I'll be expecting discretion if you think you're up to the case, so we're clear."

The doctor's eyebrows sail up, and her head moves back far enough to hit her chair. "I'll be expecting you to hand over some details before I agree to a damn thing. As a follow-up, you can provide me with an explanation as to why this needed to be done an hour before midnight, with no forewarning and definitely no respect. Otherwise, you can turn your happy ass back around and go find the other neurosurgeons you didn't feel like harassing first."

Damn. He really should have gotten Natasha to do this; she's faster with proper comebacks. "You'll be given information as you need to know it. First, I need to make sure that—"

"First, you can fuck off." Her head shifts to one side as he pauses. "I don't respond well to authority, captain. I'm sure whatever's going on is very important if it's got America's Sweetheart making an ass of himself in the middle of my office on a Monday night. But that's not really my problem. It could be, were I given a reason to care about it."

"Does rectifying war crimes warrant your valuable attention, doctor?" The words feel awful leaving his mouth; she doesn't deserve to get barked at like this. But he needs an honest indication of how she'll react to a bad day.

Ava watches him with a slightly open mouth for more than a few tense moments. Then recognition dawns for a second time, and her eyes roll dramatically. "Oh, for god's sweet sake. You could have just asked if I have experience with PTSD patients. Hell, you were clearly sent by Tony, and I met the man at a veteran's benefit, so you could have asked him. Barnes' presence on the Avenger's roster isn't exactly a secret these days."

Steve holds himself still, then shifts his weight to one foot. "You met at a veteran's benefit?"

She nods slowly, with a bit of mockery behind the motion. "Yes. Almost a decade ago. He funds most of my work with the VA."

That hadn't been included in her resume. He didn't want to invade her privacy by pulling her file until she agreed to it. Steve feels heat rise to his cheeks. Then the anger starts to surface. "You know, I'm not one hundred percent sure I was supposed to know that."

"You think?" The words are bone dry, and her posture is still defensive, but there's a smile working its way up from the corners of her lips.

"Look, I...." Steve raises a hand to the back of his neck sheepishly. "I apologize. I promise it's not about doubting your professionalism—"

"It's about protecting family, yeah, I get it." Her arms don't unfold from her chest. But her eyebrows do come back down.

"He's very important to me. I want to make sure he's in good hands, that's all."

"Well?"

Steve's brows draw in. "I wasn't trying to dump the case on you right now—"

"No, idiot." Her eyes roll again, with much less aggression. "I'm asking if I passed."

"Oh." He nods, his cheeks still feeling far too hot. "With flying colors, so far. There's still a lot more to cover before we get Bucky involved, but. Yes, ma'am. I think you'll handle him just fine."

With a sigh, her arms finally lower. She extends a hand out in his direction. "Ava Ryder. It's very nice to meet you, Captain Rogers."

He takes her hand with a firm shake, inclining his head apologetically. "It's very nice to meet you, as well, doctor. You can call me Steve."

"You can call me Ava. So can James whenever I'm finally graced with his presence."

Yeah. She'll do just fine. "He prefers Bucky. And I'm sure he'll provide you with a much more agreeable first impression. All that can wait until you don't look like you're going to fall asleep on your keyboard, though.

Ava smiles warmly at him, falling back against her chair as she takes back her hand. "I'm looking forward to it. You can send me the details on the case at a reasonable hour to make up for scaring the shit out of me."

"Yes, ma'am." He tips his head respectfully, already backing up from her desk. "Sorry for the scare. And for being so disrespectful. He really is—"

"Important to you." She waves her hand dismissively before reaching up to push at her glasses. "I get it, don't worry. I'd be twice as much of a wreck in your shoes. You're doing fine."

Sometimes, on the rarest of occasions, there are benefits to having the worst moments of his life in the history books. "I appreciate that, thank you. You have a good rest of your night, ma'am. I'll send—I'll have JARVIS send you his file—"

"Captain Rogers is unaware of how to forward SHEILD files, doctor," the AI cuts in gleefully.

"I had my suspicions, JARVIS; thanks." She waves her hand again, this time in goodbye, as she looks back at her computer screen. "Please don't trip on my carpet and bust your ass on the way out of my office."

Steve pointedly turns on his heel, glad for the excuse to hide his burning face. He all but races to the door. "I'll be in contact, doc."

"Mhmm."

When he pulls open the painted door, he's almost unsurprised to find Natasha leaning against the other side of the hallway. She doesn't move at all, but one side of her mouth lifts in a smirk.

Steve lets the door shut softly behind him before cocking his head to the side. "Very cute. You two in on it together?"

"No, but sniffing out Tony's bait didn't take long. You'd have noticed, too, if you weren't so far up Bucky's ass." Her head tilts in the opposite direction as his. "Feel better?"

He straightens up with a nod. The motion feels confident. "Much."

—author's end notes, yoinked straight from ao3—

“what’s paige like?” well. to put it simply. she is every last ounce of karma that steve has earned by lovingly terrorizing his best friend 😌

i feel like the overall theme got covered enough with this to tell if the plot is for you or not. flirting starts next, but isn't super blatant until chap 4. i am in zero rush and will have no problem with dedicating an entire chap to cuddling tbh, this is a comfort project im in for the long haul. check back later for * to get full smut taste, current (possibly changing) map has it in chap 9. OR you can check back for kinktober, i have all 31 days outlined for these idiots. i need starfield to be good so i can do smut for that too, bethesda pls

keep in mind this will get sci-fi weird at times, and loosely ref/revolve around greek myth tropes bc iiiii like ‘em ❤️ im a fandom ancient who takes no issue with cleaning out the dickhead comments 😌 also i might edit shit. im still not clear on what ao3 will email about a bookmark (god willing its not edits that dont include a new chapter) but just in case i figured id warn for anyone who doesn't want email spam

im gonna try to keep ava and paige as vague as possible, aside from a few scattered physical details so i have SOMETHING to write. my favorite bucky fic in existence is a reader!fic (safe with me is Ungodly levels of good, and i dont just say that as a fellow west wing addict. i constantly forget that his apartment in it isn't actually canon and there're no m&ms hiding for eternity somewhere) so you wont get any judgment from me on replacing both of them right down to their names, that’s how im writing them!! it just feels unfair to tag it a reader fic with them being given SUCH a heavy “presence" i guess

main pov's (the undated ones) will always flip between bucky and ava. the dated ones are other characters pov's OOOOOOR its a flashback in which case it could be the two of them, but ill always try to make it clear whose headspace is focused up front, so i dont think ive set up a hurdle there

thanks for reading ❤️ i love and appreciate feedback immensely ❤️ feeds the brain chemicals 😌 no worries abt spoilers, i feel like anyone looking there knows what theyre risking lmao

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #chapter update #man the way thats going to be the extend of effort i have when it comes to promoing this damn thing #truly astonishing how little fandom energy i have lmao #i sure as shit aint taggin the other ones with anything but my sorting tags lmao #i do not have the Energy #good space

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senstless · 2 years ago

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Splinterlands Monster Highlight Featuring RELENOR CLEAVER

Featuring Bronze Level Card Brawl Battles

Well I know the official battle posts have gone away, I still think I will make monster highlight posts for the social media challenges. I really like showing off certain monsters and abilities and help me win. I am focusing on Amazon level accounts and some of the newer reward cards or gladius cards that I have not had that much experience with yet.

These battles and lots of highlights can help show the use cases and strategies for new players to use as they're starting their journey.

Weekly Challenge - RELENOR CLEAVER

Edition: Gladius Rarity: RARE Element: WATER Attack: MELEE Abilities: REACH Abilities"BLOODLUST Health: 6 Speed: 2 Attack: 4 Armor: 7

Reasons Why I like it I'll be honest, I think Relenor Cleaver it was a great card if iron Man matches. It's high attack, high armor and reachability means you can deliver some punishing blows from second position. Having blood loss to means that if it's fortunate enough to ever knock the card out then it gets to start increasing its stats on speed health armor attack. You can become a one monster wrecking Crew in the right circumstances.

The only drawbacks really are its high mana cost of 9 and it's relatively low health of six where it is susceptible to magic attacks. Outside of these two minor drawbacks I think it is an excellent card that deserves consideration in most matches over 30 to 40 mana

The Matchup

The Rule Sets

Watch the Match Here

MANA: 50

Ruleset: Ferocity: All monsters have the Fury ability.

Ruleset: Spreading Fury: All monsters gain the enraged ability which multiplies their speed and melee attack by 1.5x rounded up.

Ruleset: Super Sneak: All Melee monsters gain the sneak ability.

SPLINTERS: Water, Life, Death

Initial Rule Set and Mana Gameplay Thoughts

Who there is a lot to take in with these three rules that matches. It's going to break down my quick thoughts on all three and how they interplay. Ferocity I'm not as concerned with porosity since I don't intend to play a card that has taunt. Downside the plane one especially in the porosity match is the double damage it will apply, not to mention if the monsters and raised that doubling I already one and a half times attack.

Spreading Fury I think this will be a heavy melee attack match. Given the higher mana cost and no Earth means that magic won't have as much punch and getting a 50% boost to your melee attacks is always huge. This combined with super sneak means it's almost guaranteed to be heavy melee.

** Super Sneak** I always feel these matches turn into melee matches since you can take otherwise powerful cards that can only attack in first position and they can now attack from any position with sneak. Liz combined with the other attributes the rules that I think it'll be a melee focused match.

Summoner KELYA FRENDUL Water is my new favorite melee splinter. While fire it's always great for melee, the extra speed and armor of water can be troublesome to overcome and mean wasted attacks on each monster.

First Position ARKEMIS THE BEAR I'm giving the Humana cost I figured getting additional armor is never bad, plus it's high health and decent speed and attacking first position means it should be an okay tank.

Second Position RELENOR CLEAVER Really hoping cleaver can get to knockouts for me from this position. I put it here in hopes that my opponent played mostly may like and it's high armor would be very beneficial

Third Position COASTAL SENTRY I mean who doesn't love a double melee attack in the middle of the pack with good speed and good damage.

Fourth Position DEMENTED SHARK since I went all in on melee, there's no reason not to add the one monster that I can to give me inspire and increase my damage by one.

Fifth Position HARDY STONEFISH not a traditional powerhouse, but for one mana it's actually very useful. It will do two damage on attacks, have two armor and can absorb quite a few hits before it's gone.

Sixth Position DIEMONSHARK I put Diemonshark because it's high speed, plus high armor should hopefully allow it to last till the second round or beyond. Not as concerned with it doing damage as I am having it absorb a bunch.

Opponent Lineup & Match Play

Summoner POSSIBILUS THE WISE always great in mainly heavy matches but it's trample ability won't be as heavily used since most cards will be doing sneak attacks

BAAKJIRA an unusual tank for this rule set although it's high health Plus ability to slow my cards by one will probably have a big impact on attack order

COASTAL SENTRY very similar to my posting double attack and a higher level means it is going to be a great choice

ISGLAD VORST an interesting choice but it's high speed plus opportunity means and has a chance to take out my weakest cards

RULER OF THE SEAS an oldie but goodie favorite. A little confusing why they're picking a low health magic card without boosting its magic attack and splash damage. With this summoner it's only going to be doing a two splash one damage versus it's three splash 2 which is much more impactful

RIVER HELLONDALE solid choice for its resurrect ability, it can be really troublesome when you finally knock out a hard to hit card and then it gets resurrected again.

COEURL LURKER one of the cards that I continue to want to buy but I'm unable to currently swing. Traditionally very very strong with high speed high damage and the Dodge ability. The downside in this match is it has taunt so all of my hits will be doing double damage and make it more likely I can knock it out

Round 1

Before the round starts and looking at the teams, I think it's really hard to figure out who's going to win just from the eyeball test. I think I have a clear advantage in heavy strikers from melee monsters, but most of that will depend on if I hit or if I miss due to their speed and abilities. First round is going to play out and be a very long round as there are 26 actions to take place and there's a lot of madness within the round. Starting to round off right away I already have my first Miss when Diemonshark misses Corel Lurker.

The next biggest impact that I think happens in round 1 is ruler of the seas attacks and it's splash damage in wages Relenor Cleaver. This boosts its attack up to eight damage after the inspired boost from demented shark with its increased speed it moves up and has its turn to attack Coreurl Lurker, and with the fury ability does 16 damage and knocks it out. That is an impressive amount of damage not to mention it now picks up bloodlust and its attack goes to nine with five speed 11 armor and six health left. Coreurl Lurker does get resurrected but it only has one health and there's no triage so it only needs one more hit to do not come again. After two misses the second attack from Coastal Sentry sealed to deal and takes it out. I think that combination of an rage and taunt has given me the clear edge by the end of round one and my confidence is now pretty high.

Round 2

Is round two starts looking at the board I feel much better about my chances to hit and annihilate monsters with sneak attack especially considering that my speed has been greatly increased and I'll be attacking first on three of my monsters this round. After scoring another knockout at this point Relenor Cleaver is up to no amazing 11 damage, 6 speed and 12 armor. It is a one-man wrecking crew. I do lose demented shark. I do suffer from having four or more misses again this round due to small speed variances of only two which I consider extremely unlucky but are all part of the game.

Round 3

Has run through starts I feel like I'm guaranteed a victory, especially as Relenor Cleaver goes first and knocks out ruler of the seas giving it another blood loss boost to 12 damage and eight speed with 13 armor. I continue to get knockouts as the bear takes out baakjira. I secure the final knockout of the round with the double attack from Coastal Sentry. Leaving me only one monster to deal with.

Round 4

For the round starts we all know it's going to happen since I have a 9-speed attack monster guaranteed hit doing 12 damage. Relenor Cleaver his benefited greatly from the enraged function and flood lost is found giving it what I would consider insane stats for bronze level cards. It is clearly being the driving factor in my success as it is delivering one hit knockouts all around

Thoughts - and Chances to Win Again

Taking a look at the Battle results well it may not be accurate because I have 100% chance to win. I believe this is due to their choice of a monster that has taunt and the double damage more than anything else. I also think they made mistakes with the magic monsters instead of high damage melee monsters without opportunity like deep lurker that would have had a chance to attack and use trample. I consider my lineup to be very very good although I'm sure it would be beatable by some different cards and there are multiple lineups in both fire and Life that have heavy melee attack with blood loss combinations that can be successful. Either way I think I continue to set similar lineups in the future until I find them becoming more unsuccessful on average.

~~@senstless

#splinterlands #play2earn #nft

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visd3stele · 3 years ago

Note

Can you do a fanfic where post TWK during her exile Judeis on a date Cardan sees gets jealous and decides to “punish” Jude smut of course

'Course, fox :)

thanks sm for the request, I hope it's what you expected 💛

°•▪︎~▪︎•° masterlist ; requests °•▪︎~▪︎•°

TW: smut, hate/angry sex, rough, penetrative (vaginal), oral (m receiving), unprotected (do NOT do it), lack of consent at the beginning (which IS NEVER OK) going to vague/unclear/hinting consent (which still ISN'T good enough), praising (like once or twice), a bit of Cardan's tail (quite innocently), begging and kind of degradation (not really, but idk how to call it and it seemed appropriate to have a warning for it) and orgasm dnial

- think that's all, lmk if I missed anything

A/N: I really, really, wish this went well. It's actually my first time writing smut and I don't know what I'm doing tbh. I hope it's not confusing and that it makes sense lol.

Sorry for the delay, as well, my mental health hasn't been the best these days and I couldn't manage to write one paragraph without deleting it right away...

Bow down, your highness!

"Hello, Jude." That voice. The voice she never thought she'd hear again. A cold timbre running down her spine. Cardan Greenbriar, the High King of Elfhame.

The young king has waltzed his way towards the booth where Jude and stranger were having dinner together after spending a good fifteen minutes at least fuming outside and watching with clenched fists through the windows of the restaurant. Cardan had been sending Jude letters to ask her to return by his side ever since her exile, and all the while she ignored him for mortals. Unacceptable!

"Cardan?" Jude wan on her feet in an instant, fingers itching towards the cutlery on the table. She imagined stabbing the traitorous husband for months on no end and seeing him seemed to be the spark her fury needed to fully ignite. "What do you want?" She hissed.

"So rude of you, Jude. Aren't you going to introduce me?" Cardan fixed her with his dark gaze, obsidian eyes ablaze with anger to match Jude's own. He didn't bother to hide his fae form, pointy ears adorned with silver lined jewels and tail cutting the air behind him, slashing with dangerous force like one of the queen's daggers.

"I think you should leave, dude," Jude's date begun, noticing the effect Cardan had on her. But he ran out of words when he turned and his eyes landed on the tall, lean, otherworldly figure. "What the-" This time the fae boy stopped the speech, waving a hand and freezing everyone for a private chat with his wife.

"Turn them back to normal," Jude threatened.

"So worried for these mortals, Jude. Or is it just this one?" The king pointed with disgust at her date.

"What do you want?"

"You." A simple statement. An easy demeanor. A plain word. But for Jude, it was the oxygen that fueled the fire. She closed the distance between them, stepping thickly and raising her fisted hands ready for a fight.

"Me? ME? You stupid, ignorant, lying bastard! You exiled me in front of the whole court!" She yelled, each word emphasized with a punch. His shoulder, his chest, his arm. Cardan did nothing to stop her, schooling his features to never betray the pain she actually inflicted on him. Except for when Jude tried to get him in the face. He caught her wrist, then, bringing her closer to him.

So close, their bodies were pressed together, chests fighting for dominance with every breath. Cardan's free hand sneaked around Jude's waist, holding her in place with his palm placed tightly on her lower back.

"Let go of me, you-" gasping, Jude's words came to a halt when Cardan's lips captured hers, claiming het mouth ferociously.

"You're my wife, Jude. Shouldn't have forget that," the fae king said when he pulled away, menace lingering in his dry voice. Jude made a face, breaking her hand free and opening her mouth to speak another river of insults. But before she could manage to do that, the strange, yet familiar, scent of magic engulfed her. And with a blink, Jude Duarte found herself back in the royal chambers in Elfhame.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

"I thought I'm never to return again," the mortal queen of fairies mused, inhaling deeply to calm down. In a battle it's always better to have a cool, leveled head.

Cardan rolled his eyes. "As if I'd believe you."

She wiped her head to look at him, frowning. "You betrayed me!"

"You did it first! You lied and used me to your own gain."

"And you pushed me around for years, making my life a living hell with your senseless friends."

"I married you in the end," Cardan said and for a moment a glimpse of guilt flashed through his eyes, only to be replaced by hurt and then hatred when Jude scoffed.

"That was a big, fat lie and you know it."

"I cannot lie, as you're aware of. You, on the other hand, can only speak lies."

Jude felt her cheeks heating with the overly well known feeling she always got near Cardan. Though she could never quite name it, it was strong, overwhelming and it clouded her mind in all the wrong times.

"Alright, then, here's a truth for you. I," she marched forward, "hate," her feet stormed over the polished floor, "you!" Jude was now face to face with Cardan again, close enough to wrap her hands around his neck and k...

"Then why can't you keep your distance?" He mocked, leaning closer, his breath brushing the tip of her nose. Jude scoffed and tried to push him, but with a stealth recently discovered in his trainings with the Court of Shadows, Cardan caught her arms, turned them both around and pinned her to the nearest wall.

As much as Jude was better built than the fae king, the latter took her by surprise, heart skipping a beat as the proximity made it impossible to clear her mind. The hungry look in his eyes didn't help either. His pupils dilated so much the line between them and his black irises blurred and almost faded completely.

"What? No more clever words for me, Jude?" His hands traveled to her hips, digging in the cold material of the jeans, keeping her in place. The mortal girl swallowed hard, confused, yet still boiling with the anger of a wounded ego and hurt pride.

Composing herself, Jude brought her head forward, a crack echoing in the room when her forehead hit his chin. "You had a chance, Cardan. Now take me back. Elfhame is no longer worth it." You are no longer worth it, were the words that hanged unspoken.

Cardan pushed her back with renewed force, squeezing her waist and taking one more step in her space. "You're my wife, Jude. Mine!" He empathized his words with another kiss. This time he bit her lower lip, earning a yelp of surprise that parted her mouth. Seizing the opportunity, the king slithered his tongue past her teeth, exploring. With a sound of defiance, Jude tangled her own tongue with his, kissing him back in a type of fight she wasn't used to. But Jude wouldn't yield to Cardan. No matter what they're playing at.

Soon, these thoughts would flee her mind. When the High king would pull apart, sending her a satisfied smirk. When she'd struggle to process it, having his lips pressed to her neck.

Indeed, Cardan now grazed his teeth against the sensitive skin of Jude's throat, licking and biting his way downwards. His mouth attached itself to her collarbone, a tickling sensation spreading through Jude's body. A spasm lightly shook her. Grinning cruelly, Cardan traced the skin of her neck with his nose, stealing taunting kisses until his mouth reached her ear. Nibbling at her lobe, sucking at the skin underneath it, the fae whispered in Jude's ear.

His breath was hot and swift like an unexpected breeze and the mortal queen took her time understanding what he said. "Do you wanted him to do this to you?"

A moan left her lips and her eyes widened in surprise. Cardan chuckled darkly, continuing his attacks on her neck. But this time, his mouth traveled lower. Down inside her decolletage, teasing the warm skin of her breasts. And his hands joined right after, sneaking under her shirt and playing with the keys of her bra. "Is this what you did all these months? Fooling around with that mortal man?"

Jude felt like she was losing, spinning out of control. "And what if I did?" She retorted. "You made it clear I'm not welcomed back, so why not, right?" She wanted to hurt him. And she did, but Cardan wouldn't show it. Not tonight.

He launched his mouth back on hers, kissing and biting and licking, claiming her lips as if he could push back her words like this.

His hands were roaming again, snapping her bra open and lifting it above her breasts underneath the shirt. His long fingers traced their shape tentatively, thumbs circling the hard nipples. He cupped and squeezed, drawing a muffled moan from Jude. When Cardan broke the kiss for air, he used the time to toss away the shirt and the bra, renewing his descend on Jude's body. His lips tested the valley of her breasts, the feverish skin of her upper abdomen. Whenever his teeth pinched, Jude would squirm under his touch, whenever she felt his tongue on her, she'd scratch her nails against the wall, moans wailing out of her throat.

His tail wrapped around her waist, securing the girl when Cardan's cold hands slipped beneath her belt. Twitching the material of her panties between his fingers, the fae king suddenly stopped. "Is it him you want?"

Jude made out a strangled sound, unnerved and disappointed. She tried to talk, but her voice was lost. "Is it?" Cardan asked again, putting more force into his words this time, voice edging with a hint of fear and heartbreak. Jude considered lying again. Saying yes and forcing him to take her back. But she wanted more. More of Cardan, more of his touch, more of his experience and attention. "Tell me, Jude," the mortal queen gulped when the king stood up against her again, his fingers now digging in the soft flash of her butt.

"No."

"No? What do you want, then?" The fae asked, a self pleased grin tugging at his sharp features. Jude's breath itched, then accelerated when light caught the lust in his eyes, mirroring hers.

"You," her voice was barely a whisper, but it sent Cardan's mind in a flip, thoughts leaving him as he claimed her mouth once more.

"Again." He groaned. The fur of his tail tickled her spine. "What do you want?"

"You," she forced out, eyes fluttering close as Cardan's hands reached for the button of her jeans. "Say that again, Jude. You want me?"

"Yes."

"Say it," the tail squeezed tighter around her bare middle and Jude became vaguely aware that her pants were gone as well. "I- I want you, Cardan." She breathed out, quickly, impatiently. To which the young king responded with a guttural moan, dwelling in the feeling of hearing Jude say those words. But Cardan couldn't forget the months his queen spent in the mortal land, neither could he pretend she didn't went out on dates. A slow smile itched on his lips, dark and mischievous, like its owner.

"Then prove it." Their eyes met, staring unmovingly for what seemed like hours until one of the king's maniquered eyebrows arched in a silent dare. "It's time to bow down, your highness," he rasped out, trailing his gaze to the floor and back to Jude. "Get on your knees for me, Jude." Cardan's tone was taunting as he traced his thumb over her swollen lips.

The mortal's heart raced against her rib cage when she passed her tongue over her lips, forgetting about her husband's finger laying innocently on the pink flesh of her mouth. She watched as he gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing while his feather light touch hardened on her face. And without leaving his gaze, Jude sunk on her knees.

Cardan's smirk widened. The High King had imagined this times before: Jude, on her knees before him, ready and willing to please him. He loosened the ties of his pants, freeing his hard erection. His fingers threaded through her hair, bringing Jude's head closer. She finally broke the eye contact, focusing as she brushed her parted lips over his cock's tip. Cardan's grip on her head tighten, and with a swift motion he bucked his hips against her mouth. The sharp movement pushed the fae king's dick further down her throat and the mortal's eyes widened before recovering and rolling her tongue over it.

The High King set a terribly fast pace, keeping his hands on Jude's head to coordinate her. She licked up and down, lips brushing the sensitive skin as Jude sucked on the fae's cock. Her moans vibrated against him, sending Cardan in a frenzy. "Good girl," he rasped softly. One more roll of his hips caused Jude to lose balance. Her palms moved forward, supporting her weight.

The king groaned, the image of his wife on all fours building the familiar knot in his stomach. But he wasn't done yet. "Get up." As soon as she did, he pushed her back to the wall. Jude was biting her bottom lip, disheveled, feeling warm and heated on the inside – a mix of ecstasy and embarrassment. When Cardan tossed away his own shirt, completely bare like herself, Jude couldn't stop her hands from touching the light muscles of his chest. "So eager to touch me."

As the words left his mouth, the fae king picked the mortal up. Jude's legs snapped wide open, circling Cardan's waist. Without warning, he thrusted inside her, snatching from her a breathless gasp. "Cardan," she moaned.

"That's it, Jude. There's only me for you." He said in a low groan, pushing deeper with each thrust. His hands digged in her sides as his tail wrapped around Jude's leg, pulling her towards him in sync with his thrusts. Her fingers tugged at his hair as she arched her back. "C- ah- rdan." As soon as she did, the king attached his mouth to one of her breasts. He sucked on the skin, kissing his way down to the sensitive nipple. He licked it once, twice, biting hard on it. "Cardan!" She yelped, which only caused a chuckle to echo on her chest Cardan to give the other breast the same treatment.

His thrusts became more urgent, her walls tightening perfectly around his cock. And just as Jude was about to come, Cardan stopped.

"What are you doing?" She asked out of breath.

He gripped her chin and forced her to look him in the eyes. "What?" He feigned innocence. "Is there anything you wanted?"

She glared at him. He took one step backwards. Jude whined at the empty feeling when Cardan's dick slided out of her. "You shouldn't have go out with someone else." He took another step back. The king was close enough that their naked chests bumped against one another, but too far for Jude's liking, especially after the heights of pleasure he carried her on. He moved again, slowly and mockingly, unwrapping his tail off her thigh and crossing his arm.

"Wait!" Jude pleaded. "Please."

Cardan arched a brow expectantly. "Hm? Please what, Jude?"

"Get back here and..."

The High King shook his head. "The time when you ordered me around is gone. If you want something from me, beg, Jude. Beg me for it."

And she did. Heavens make her forget it, she did. The mortal queen pleaded, eyes cast on the floor in shame, voice shaking. There was a pause after she spoke. Silence settled agonizingly and then she dared to look up.

Cardan's eyes sparkled with delight, a cruel smile spread on his face. He walked towards her so fast Jude couldn't fully comprehend it until his lips were crushing hers. His hands cupping her face with a ferocious force, tongue pushing against her own and tow sets of teeth clenching. She moaned, anticipation growing in her chest. But Cardan pulled back and morphed his features in a fake pout.

"Too bad you've been acting poorly, Jude. But maybe next time, if you ask nicely."

And with that, he's gone, leaving Jude naked, heated and ravished, wanting for more.

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fangirl-everythang · 4 years ago

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Mirrors C.T.H

Summary: Calum and Y/n's schedules haven't lined up in a while. When they finally do, Calum decides to try a reflective persuasion if you will.

Warnings: Daddy Kink, Swearing, Spit, Slapping( well maybe one), Just lots of smut.

Word Count: 2691

A/N: This was inspired by @ContentCalum on Instagram. 10/10 recommend for short blurbs. (ALSO posted on Wattpad)

Can't wait to see you, princess, xxx.

That was the last text I got from Calum after he told me he was coming home. Today was my day off so I spent the day doing some housework. The four of them really do a number when they're together. Recently our schedules haven't been matching and I rarely see him. Just brief periods between my early work schedule and his unpredictable night/ whenever the fuck Michael wakes up studio times haven't left us much time together.

While that's in the oven I can shower. Deciding against pajamas I just grab one of Calums shirts because it smells just like him. Usually, I wouldn't wear a bra but a bralette won't hurt. With the hot steam rolling down the sides of the shower, I let the water hit my sore muscles. Work has been overly stressful. Between this new launch and creating a new marketing scheme, you would think we were planning the Met Gala. Putting those thoughts work thoughts aside, lathering and scrubbing every area of my body that has seen this house today. Afterward gotta lotion up because ashyness is not an option, sliding on the matching lace panties and Calums shirt that comes down to my mid-thigh.

Going back downstairs to turn the oven off I get started on the sides. Cauliflower mac and cheese isn't as bad as it seems, hopefully. "Duke do you think your daddy will notice?" He looks at me with those cute eyes, not a care in the world, guess not. The sound of the door opening has Duke happily barking and running away from me. Following not too far behind our fury son I see Calum kneel next to Duke.

"Hey Bud, did you miss me?" he asks playfully petting the sweet creature. He cuddles into Calum further when he looks up at me, "Hi princess."

"You know I think it's unfair when you ask Duke does he miss you when I'm standing right here." I grin. He stands up grabbing my waist "Well I know you missed me love." he smiles.

"Did I? You're kind of annoying." He gasps playfully holding his heart. Leaning my head back I reach up to kiss him. He takes his time bringing his lips to mine so I put my hands on his cheek and bring him closer. His soft lips against mine send me into a frenzy. God, I've missed him like crazy. Parting all too soon he leans his forehead on mine. "I love you." he rasps.

"I love you too bub." I grin going back into the kitchen. "Did you want to eat first or?" I ask looking at him questioningly.

"It's 4 pm Y/n." he chuckles. Well, we can eat later then, he concludes.

"Well, it's our first time together in forever, what now?" He has a smirk on his face and reaches for my wrist. "What is it Cal?" he walks away and up the stairs leaving me to follow him. I should turn the oven off. Glancing over to Duke he's in his little bed laying down. Being so cute I had to take a picture...or three. Taking my time up the stairs to admire the pictures of the cute doggo, "Cal look at these pictures of Du-What are you doing?" He continues to play with the reflective furniture.

"Do you know how good you look in the mirror? I couldn't stop thinking about all the dirty pictures you sent me," He stares at me through the mirror. "You're lucky I wasn't here babygirl." My cheeks flush as he pushes me closer to see our reflections dancing in the mirror with a tight hold on my hips.

"You're my distraction," he whispers as he slowly begins sucking underneath my ear, leaving kisses down my neck. My heart rate increases as his tongue touches a sensitive spot, shivers running down my spine. "As much as I want to tell you how beautiful you are, well you've been a bad girl hmm?" His hand lightly trails across my neck, his eye contact never leaving as he snakes his other hand towards my front over my clothed womanhood. "Answer me." His grip becoming more firm on my neck.

"Yes daddy." he hums in approval as he lifts his shirt above his head exposing his tan torso. "Look at how sexy you are baby." but he didn't seem satisfied when my eyes stay glued to the ground. He could have any girl he wanted and yet he chose me. I'm not skinny whatsoever. I have more tits than ass and rolls for days. The stretchmarks that litter my body don't bother me but most aspects of everything else does. His hand reaches for my hair in a tight fist forcing me to look up at our reflection, my core aching at the sudden pull. "I'm speaking to you." he says very sternly, "I guess I'll just have to make you listen."

Stripping himself of his pants and sitting on the edge of the bed right in front of the mirror he opens his legs and pats me over. "Sit." I obey him, anticipation building in my core. His hands roam my body freely lingering wherever they please. He begins attacking my neck slowly dragging his finger across my thigh "Look at you, acting like a good girl hmm?" he moves the cotton fabric up to my waist giving him a view of my panties from the mirror "'gonna be good for daddy?"

I nod silently, he shakes his head in a disapproving manner. "Use your words Love."

"I'll be good for you daddy." he hums in approval, spreading my legs apart. He traces his finger along the outskirts of my panties, my hips thrusting lightly "excited now are we?" he smirks looking at the wet spot through the mirror. Calum slides the thin material to the side, lightly grazing my clit. My eyes momentarily closing at the brief touch before his other calloused hand reaches up, grabbing my jaw, forcing me to to look up. "You're going to watch as I tease your cunt. You're going to cum on my fingers, then you'll watch as I devour your pussy. Close your eyes even once and I'll force another out of you. Got it?" He has a fire blazing behind his golden-brown orbs.

"Yes sir." nodding along as his fingers begin tapping on my clit. "Good girl," he whispers before dipping his middle finger into my sex, the digit easily slipping in. "Nuh that way." he reminds me once more to look up into the mirror. The glass allowing me to see everything at once, the way he looks at me hungrily, his slender finger shining with my arousal. I can see his other hand going to reach for my breast before I feel it, the mere fact causing a moan to leave my lips.

"Awwwe you like watching yourself being played with huh?" he maintains eye contact with me through the mirror, as he adds another finger into my throbbing hole. His length pressing into my back, hardening with every sound from my mouth. "Rub your clit y/n."

My hand following his orders adding more sensation to my building orgasm. The scene before me so pleasingly intimate and erotic. "Cal I'm goin-" My back arching into him as my orgasm takes complete control of my body, his eyes on me every step of the way.

He brings his fingers to my lips, allowing me to taste myself, whimpering himself when I take his fingers into my mouth, sucking them as if they were his member. I release them, clean, turning to face him. "I thought I told you-" I lean forward straddling his waist, kissing him roughly. "I know but I want to please you too Cal." Before he can respond I gently slip off the bed, face to groin. I pull down his boxers just enough to release his straining cock, gently stroking it in my palm. "Let me take care of you," I smile at him, pressing a kiss to the side of his shaft "Please daddy." He groans, swiping his thumb over my lip and nodding. We've been apart far too long, aching to taste him once more.

I lick his shaft, tasting his pre-cum on my tongue, he lets out a sigh of relief, embedding his hand through my hair. "Mhmmm just like that princess." He moans as I take most of him in my mouth, cupping his balls and pressing my forefinger lightly on the skin between the two. The feeling of him in my mouth forces my mind to wonder about him being inside of me, stretching me in the best of ways, a moan finds its way out from my throat around Calum causing his hips to thrust more. I clench my thighs together to provide some friction for my thoughts, I reach my hand between my legs relieving myself from all the arousal. "Get up." he demands, seeming almost angry. Not wanting to question him I rise confused by the sudden change of tone, knowing better than to say anything.

He removes any fabric left covering my body aggressively, not saying a word. Pushing me back till my knees cave against the bed causing me to fall back onto our shared mattress. He places himself between my legs, rubbing his length along my core painfully slow. "Please, I need you Cal." He continues gazing at me through his lust filled orbs, desire seeping from his pores. He pushes his tip in and then taking it out, the feeling gone as soon as it had appeared. A whine erupted from my lips, he chuckled to himself. "Remind me again y/n," he states in a hushed tone, "Are you to touch yourself without my permission?" He looks at me, his finger dancing over my sensitive nub but neglecting it furthermore. Accepting my silence for an answer, "And yet you did." His head dips down encapsulating my nipple in his mouth, a breathy moan leaving my lips as his hands roam my body freely. My hips thrusting trying to create some- any friction. "Cal I won't do it ever again, just please- please fuck me daddy. " A stinging on my cheek causing a gasp to leave my lips, surprised by this side of Calum. Still shocked, he places his hand firmly on my cheek pushing my face into the mattress. The only thing in view is the mirror with his gorgeously tanned tattooed body on top of mine, hand still placed on my face. He leans in dangerously close, moving a strand of hair aside slowly, his fingertip leaving the slightest touch before putting his hand back with the same pressure as before, "Now watch sweetheart." he darkly whispers.

Before I could question it his entire length thrust in me at once, a broken moan escaping me. With the side view, I can see him pounding into me, each thrust harder than the last. "Fuck- so wet hmmm, such a good whore." he moans, I nod under his hand clenching walls around him, tilting my pelvis to meet his. He removes his hand from my face to apply pressure to my clit, hitting a particularly blissful combination. "Fuck Cal right there!" I scream as the bedrocks underneath our sweaty bodies. He slows his movements savoring the view before him, his good girl-now fucking onto him, desperate for release. Her hair frizzy, eyes fluttering from excessive pleasure, he never wanted it to end. "I love you y/n."

"I love you too Calum." I reach up grabbing his neck to pull him back to me, our lips meeting once more passionately while he thrust into me again. He presses my body closer to his as my legs wrap around him for dear life, my hands holding onto his as if he'd disappear. "Can I cum please?" He grunts, nodding his head in approval of my very much needed release. Unable to focus on anything but the eruption of pleasure from my core, repeating a slur of Calums name over and over again like it is the only thing I've ever known. His release following shortly after, the warmth of his seed filling me. His panting is my focal point upon return, watching as each breath falls from his swollen plump lips. I giggle moving some of his sweat-coated hair from his face, "Welcome home Mr.Hood." He smiles laughing at my gesture, "Quite the welcome it is Miss Y/L/N" He pulls my face forward once more placing a soft kiss to my lips, which is happily returned before he pulls me to the edge of the bed, still seemingly connected, placing me dead center in front of the mirror once more. Looking at him with a curious glance, he notions to the mirror as I watch his every move. He pulls his softening member from my core, a gasp leaving my lips due to the newfound vacancy.

His eyes never leaving mine as the smirk on his face grows, kneeling between my thighs. I lean up on my forearms to see both him and the reflection better, the handsome bassist looping his arms around my legs, keeping me in place. "Look how pretty baby." He says watching our fluids drip out of me, his tone of admiration never wavering. My hips jut back as he strokes over my clit, still hyper-sensitive from the orgasm just moments before. As I retract my pussy away from his devilish grin he rumbles a low growl, attaching his lips to my center, his wide hands gripping my hips with brisk strength-leaving prints in their path. His tongue lapping my hole over and over again. He replaces his mouth with his fingers, the scissoring motion driving me on edge once more. He leans over me, tapping on my lips to which I comply with his wishes, opening my mouth. He smiles before releasing the cum-mixed spit down my throat, swallowing our combined fluids moaning as he returns his mouth to my pussy. My wetness glistening all over his face as he continues to but himself in me. Seeing his back muscles contract in the mirror each time he moves, watching him devour me in the most sinful of ways. I can see it all, moans leaving my lips between my pleas for him to stop his assault but nonetheless, he persists until my legs are a quivering mess around his head. My bare breast rising with every sharp inhale, my back arching further into him, hoping to get away but he keeps me planted there in front of him.

"I need to- Cal can I-I- fuck please" The words barely able to leave my lips, he stares at me nodding but never removing himself from my core. My orgasm ripples through me, forcing my body to compromise, stiffening as I release on Calum's tongue. My hips riding his tongue exactly where I need him as my fingers grip at his hair, hearing him moan at the feeling sending an aftershock of vibrations through my center. An unholy slurping noise from Calum is the last thing to be heard as he joins me again on the bed, pulling me into him. His lips providing every emotion needed. "I missed you."

I laugh at his cute post-sex neediness, "I missed you too Cal." He pats my head, letting his hands rake through the mess of hair on top of my head as I trace over his feather tattoo. "Did I ever tell you how good you taste?" he murmurs, shrugging lightly to himself, "Fucking delicious." His hands lingering the curves of my body before he places two fingers on my clit. "No, no, no not again." I chuckle pushing him away as my body shudders from the sensation.

"Hmmm I suppose we'll have more time today." he rasps. "Indeed we will." I smile placing a kiss on his cheek. Let's just say the night was more than eventful, happy to be in each other presence again.

A/N:

WOW long time no see! I can't wait to get back into the flow of writing and now that the semester is over I have more time lol.

I hope you're all hanging in there alright!

xoxo-Janelle

#5sos smut #5sos x reader #calum 5sos #calum hood smut #calum x reader #calum hood #calum imagine #Blurb #Smut #cth #5 seconds of smut #5 seconds of summer #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #michael clifford #reader insert #y/n #x reader #fanfic

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asterekmess · 3 years ago

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Fuck the Writing Rules

The title is more aggressive than I feel at the moment, but I couldn't think of anything better.

I see so many posts/videos/articles about writing. About pacing and plotlines and character info and hooks and background information. Every single aspect of writing, there is advice about. And sometimes it contradicts, but there are certain things that Everyone seems to agree with.

Specifically when it comes to pacing and trimming and editing. Even if someone mentions that you should keep your 'trimmings' and see if you can use them for another piece, everyone seems to agree that you want to Trim Down your work. Write the first page, then remove the first paragraph. Write a draft, then cut out all the bits that don't Directly Further the story. Nip and Tuck and Trim and Cut until your story is Streamlined and everything relates to the main plotline and there's no extra bits hanging off the edges. Until everything Pushes the Plot.

And sure, this can be Incredibly helpful advice for people! I guess. Sometimes. Maybe. Once in a while.

But god damn it, I hate seeing it.

It always makes me angry and GUILTY because I do NOT do this. I almost NEVER cut things from my work. Not for the express purpose of streamlining or simplifiying or trying to fix Pacing. Never. I don't Immediately start on hooks or give out only the Important details or cut scenes that aren't directly relating to the main plot. I hoard Every Fucking Thing I write, and fics that could easily be trimmed down to 10-15k end up at 50k or 60k. So I feel guilty. I'm supposedly a Good Writer, but I don't do this basic thing. My works are FILLED with Random side bits and unimportant chit-chat and smalltalk and the tiniest details that Don't need to be there at all. I focus on days where nothing happens and I give scenes that have No real purpose for the story.

But you know what?

PEOPLE LOVE IT.

Do you have any idea how many comments I have gotten over the years from readers about how much they Absolutely Adore that I don't cut shit? In one of my most Popular fics, it takes me 13 Chapters to get to the main plot of the story. Out of 27.

And PEOPLE FUCKING LOVE IT.

Even if you consider how many people Didn't like it and thought that it was too drawn out, but just didn't bother telling me bc it would be rude to complain, that in NO WAY discounts the HUNDREDS of comments I received telling me how Delighted the reader was that I took my time, and how heartbroken they would have been if I cut even one scene.

And it just re-enforces this fury I have with the constant bombardment of Cut Trim Snip Delete Erase that writers get.

Yes, having a story that drags and drags isn't good. But you can have the most fast-paced streamlined story ever and it can STILL drag if it doesn't ever draw the reader in in the first place. If the reader doesn't care about what's happening, they are still going to skim or speedread to get to the end. And on the flip side, you can have the longest fucking stories, 100-200-500k stories, that NEVER drag. That the reader is GLUED to and Invested In despite every out of the blue convo or irrelevant character arc/scene.

And it's unfair to say "oh, well that's just in FIC. Real stories shouldn't be like that," because do you have ANY IDEA how massive fanfiction is as a written medium? It's JUST as prevalent as the fiction genre. No one ever fucking yelled at homer for the Odyssey being so goddamn boring and his rambling about the color of the sea and the shape of the island. It doesn't matter that it's a 'classic'; if you're following this rule, then the story is Still Bad.

But that's my point! You don't have to follow this rule! It isn't a RULE.

It's like artistic references that teach you how to draw the correct relative size of body parts for a character study. Sure, knowing how to do that helps, but if it doesn't match your preferred style, then DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT.

The best reason to know rules, is so that you know how to Break Them.

Now, one could argue (and it would honestly not be an unsafe assumption) that because I have spent so many years writing and studying writing, that the reason people are still able to enjoy my work despite the lack of reasonable pacing, is because I know HOW to do it well. How to make the pacing roll like a wave on a beach so that you have slow parts and fast parts but you don't get Dumped into it, you just drift through the motions. I struggle a lot with memory loss, but I've been studying and working in creative writing/language for SO LONG, that I manage to do the good stuff anyway. It's instinctive. I don't know HOW or WHY I do something, I just do it, and it works. It's not natural talent, it's ingrained, learned ability. So, maybe I literally just know enough to do the Advanced technique of having uneven pacing that Still Works. It's true that everything I write has A purpose, even if it's not THE purpose. Everything I put has something to do with a character's thoughts/need/feelings at the time. With their core traits and how those are shifting. With how the environment is moving and setting up other things. With how a relationship is developing or GOING to develop very far in the future. Everything has a reason to be there, they just aren't "Big" reasons.

And they don't need to be. Not everything has to be about the main plot! Sometimes you can give the reader background into your character that will have NO effect on the outcome of the story, and you can do it just so that the reader gets to Know the character better. Empathizes better. Cares More.

Slice of life fics are so precious and loved, because they let us see the character Outside of the stress of the main plotline. You can't have the Stress without the Relaxation, or it destroys the Weight that the stress carries. How are you supposed to know just how heartbroken someone is, just how PUshed to their Limits they are....if you've never EVER gotten to see them in their comfort zone? If you never see someone smile, there is no goddamn reason to care if they cry, because that's ALL THEY DO.

The inclusion of benign moments in the midst of your horror or action-packed story is so important, because it makes the moments when things ARE action-packed and fast-pace Feel that way when the reader realizes those benign moments are suddenly MISSING. If I write a character who is Always running from one spot to the next saving the day without a single break, it's going to dull out. It's exhausting for the reader just as much as it is for the character. But if I write a character who has normal days. Who goes to the nearest gas station in their downtime and grabs candy bars, or visits a park to go for a relaxed run. And then I Take Those Away and throw them into a panicked state? it'll hit more because the reader will SEE the absence of their normal routine. No more candy bars. No more running that isn't fueled by a desire not to be ripped apart. You Feel the absence, and it makes the panic that much more real.

How often do we get angry at show-runners for never letting their characters have down-time? For crushing so much plot into so little time and just Pushing toward the next one and the next one. Shoving subplots in until there's no room left for the characters to EXIST.

But it doesn't have to be like that.

Here's MY advice on pacing.

Be sure everything you write has a purpose. Period. It doesn't need to be big! It doesn't need to relate to the overarching plot or theme. Just having a Reason. ANY REASON. Is enough. Are you giving A a good day so that when everything goes wrong they're more upset? That's good! Send them for ice cream or something. Are you giving A and B a quiet moment together to bond, because they haven't gotten to be alone together for far too long? Perfect! Are you letting B share a tangential story in the middle of a serious moment that lowers the tension of the whole room and reveals something completely benign about their backstory that just makes them feel more real? That's ALL the reason you need!

Noting the color of the sky or the texture of a fabric under someone's fingers Does things. It reveals what the character considers important, or shows how their mindset is Different than usual. Are they avoiding their problems by focusing on how well someone's outfit matches their hair, or is this how they Normally see the world? Did they eat something for dinner and it was weird enough to mention? Or NORMAL enough to mention?

Establishing a baseline is important. Tell people what is normal. Casually mention that your character eats hot pockets for dinner or that their favorite show is This. or that they always park a little too far forward. Just let it trickle into the work and don't feel like you have to delete it all just because it doesn't Move The Plot Forward.

Fuck the plot. Live in your world. The readers WANT to be there with you, and they don't know all the fun shit you do! Share it with them!

You will get better as you go. Yeah, some of your stories will drag. And you'll learn from it. Don't feel bad for not following a "writing essential for making a Good Story." There is no one way to do it. You are not a failure or a cheater. You just have a different style, and if you learn to hone that ability, you can make incredible things.

#personal #rant #fic talk #writing talk

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revui · 2 years ago

Note

Quin seems like a fun character but I have nothing to go by beyond Foreverlands and a few memes. I saw on your blog that you're down for talking abt your OCs though. So! Do you have any fun facts about Quin?

what if i [kisses anon on the mouth]

fr this is one of the best things i could've woken up to in my inbox although by the time i finish this it definitely won't be the morning anymore

SO QUIN. Quintilian Holmes. Here's a random fact before I really get going, looking at the posts that I have tagged as Quin, the oldest one is actually referring to a completely different character, and their name was Quindecim. They wound up sharing nicknames by accident. Anyway, from this point forward, this post is now all about Quin-as-in-Quintilian and not Quin-as-in-Quindecim.

So, the thing about Quin is that he's very emotional, he's very artistic, and he's very observant. He's also highkey brimming with rage at all moments in time. When people read "emotional" they sometimes forget that incandescent fury is an emotion, and it happens to be one he wears well. But it's very easy for people to overlook that because he tries quite hard to avoid showing that. He tries to act like a Guy Not Full Of Anger and partially succeeds, but anyone who really knows him is very aware of (and wary of) this part of him.

His major role in the actual story that I've been writing with him (I only post the random episodic stuff I think of) is as someone who's trying to solo the entire government. He pops up a few times earlier but his first big appearance is when he's in the middle of his plan to topple the whole system.

He's from a place called Ivory Ridge, a now-destroyed town which was a safe-haven for demons. "Demon" as a term is very loose in the Foreverlands. It just refers to any humanoid who isn't a human. Actual demons are hard to come by in the present—you'll pretty exclusively find descendants and people with demonic heritage instead of actual full-on demons. Quin is descended from dryad-like demons. After Ivory Ridge got destroyed, Quin got adopted by his moms, Mildred and Emelia Snow.

Switching topics entirely, glyphs. He brings those up quite a lot in the chapter, and the weird thing is that they're kind of a lost art. Quin isn't fully aware of this. Glyphs are essentially tiny symbols that "code" the magical world of the Foreverlands, and when you notice certain patterns (such as a symbol that seems to code for creatures being able to change color), you can mix-and-match different glyph symbols into a whole new glyph. If you mix the symbol that codes for color-changing with a symbol that codes for a lattice-shaped structure in a bush, you can use this new glyph to... I don't know, transmute your blue fence into bright orange lattice.

The reason he uses glyphs is somewhat related to his disability. Sorcerers can use magic because they have a special organ that turns the magic in the world around them into something they can actually wield, and Quin's doesn't work properly, and to put it very very simply, this results in him having "less magic" than other sorcerers. He medicates for this but still has an easier time just using glyphs instead of other focuses because they're smaller, easier to carry, and his special interest. That's right, boys. Autism is about glyphs.

Quin's an artist who is constantly filling his pockets with crumpled papers and pens and looking for new stuff to draw. He likes other arts like sculpting, carving, and pottery, but he's not as good at those and usually doesn't have the tools on hand like he does for drawing.

Colum's also from Ivory Ridge and the two have known each other since they were three. Quin still has a crush on him. Quin knows this fact. Quin hates this fact. His standards are basically "be a person, breathe oxygen" and yet he's only ever been on a single date, mostly by accident, because he didn't realize his classmate was asking him out in a romantic way instead of a friendly way. If ever asked on a date (assuming he actually realizes it's a date), he would dress in his weirdest clothes so that whoever he's dating knows what they're getting into ahead of time.

He's my little skrinkly.

His favorite color is pink, which happens to be his hair color, but he prefers more vibrant shades of pink, especially those that lean closer to purple, while his hair color is a sort of pastel pink instead which he really dislikes. Speaking of his hair. It's very curly and he never has any clue what to do with it, so he just kind of leaves it there to do its thing and hopes for the best. It ranges from "halfway decent" to "I was just in a wind tunnel" and he's stopped trying to keep it under any modicum of control.

He's got freckles. Lots of them.

He's very bad at holding himself to plans and deadlines and has made a habit of showing up to things late, or not at all. He was actually almost ten minutes late to his definitely-not-a-date and agreed to a second one only because he felt bad about that, and then they never showed up to the second date so Quin went home and carved a little wooden bird statue instead. Her name is Toodle.

Alright, insane ramblings over. This was a lot of fun :D

#levi rambles

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cptn-stvngrntrgrs · 5 years ago

Note

A Post-Avenger Nick Fury accidentally goes to the future and sees his two best agents (Steve and Nat) are married. Natasha notices Nick isn't from their timeline (she just knows lol black widow tingle) and Steve gets a smug grin and just says "Best matchmaker ever" Nicky Fury returns to the past and calls Steve and Nat to his office to offically "partner then up" and said to himself, "this two motherfuckers don't know what's in store for them" NICK FURY IS THE OG MATCHMAKER 🤪🤪🤪🤪

hi anon! i know this took me a while to finish but i hope you like it! thanks for the prompt!

Title: when push comes to shove

Relationship: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanoff

Summary:

These two motherfuckers don’t know what’s in store for them.

so the future part of this place takes place after Endgame.

modifications: Steve and Natasha has been married before IW. They had kids in those five years between IW and Endgame. And of as per my usual, no one dies XD enjoy!

Also on AO3!

“Motherfu-”

–

Nick Fury woke up in his room, his head pounding. He couldn’t remember much except for an explosion at the SHIELD facility the day before. Has it been a day? He only remembers getting hit with a ray of light. And suddenly, he woke up. He propped himself up on his headboard gently, his vision swimming.

After steadying himself, he squinted and looked around his room. It looks different from how he left it from. He remained sitting that way, analyzing his surroundings. It’s most definitely his room, yes, but also, it doesn’t feel like it. He heard a beep and looked down at his phone.

Frowning, he took the device and examined it. It’s most likely his personal phone because it’s not SHIELD issued but why does it look so… advanced? He patted the jeans he was wearing - Why is he wearing jeans to bed? - and took out a phone. His phone. It’s an iPhone 5. The one that is currently beeping looks way too modern. What is this, an iPhone 12?!

Nick checked the newer phone in his hand. It immediately unlocked when he brought it up to his face level. What in the SHIELD tech power is this?Opening the messages app, he saw an unread text from Natasha R. Hm, Romanoff.

“ Hey Nick, let me know when you get there! Have a safe flight! The kids miss you already.”

“What the-”

There was a photo underneath the text - of two young kids pouting at the camera. The boy has reddish-blond hair while the little girl has long blonde curls.

“Why is Romanoff sending me pictures of kids all of a sudden…” he muttered to himself, feeling his headache come back - this time, from stress. What is happening to him? Last time he saw Natasha was two days ago, giving him an update on the Chitauri clean-up happening in New York.

Gathering himself, he walked to his living room to turn the TV on. He almost did a double take; his living room is vastly different from how he remembered it. What felt like a bachelor’s pad before - bare walls, sleek black leather sofa and a matching glass table - is now replaced with a leather sectional and picture frames all over the place.

He sauntered over to the shelf that holds what looks like awards and photos. One of the framed photographs looks like a wedding, looking closer, he almost dropped it when he realized who were getting married.

It was Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff. And it looked like he officiated the wedding, based on how he was at the head of the altar looking at the two happily. Next to that is a photo of two kids smiling brightly, the same kids he saw on his phone earlier, sitting on his lap on what looks like Christmas morning - And is he wearing a Santa costume??!! The frame’s border has an engraved “World’s Best Grandpa” on it.

Well, he’ll be damned.

–

Okay, Nick Fury pieced it all together. After a while of brooding and confusion, he figured that he’s not in 2012 anymore. How he got there, he has no idea. So far his theories are severe memory loss or time travel. He’s witnessed the cutest, cuddliest cat eat a person and just a month ago, aliens were on New York City. So, really, the possibilities are endless.

After figuring out how to get to Natasha’s house, he stopped on the sidewalk to take it all in first. Who would’ve thought - his best agent and master spy, living in a house with a literal white picket fence. And has two children. Married to the American Icon. Oh, the number of Cold War jokes he could think of right now.

His reverie was broken by screams of “Grandpa Nick!” and he turned just in time to see two bouncing children run to him and latch themselves on each of his leg. He looked down and smiled at them, awkwardly patting their head.

“Grampa Nick, you’re back!” the little girl basically screamed, tugging on the sleeve of his pants.

“Mommy said we won’t see you until next week!” the boy told him, giggling, and failing to notice the strange look he had on his face. He was thinking of something to say until a voice cut him off his thoughts.

“Nick? What are you doing here?” Natasha asked, leaning on the doorframe and looking at them. By her legs is a golden retriever watching him. Dang, they even have a golden retriever. Nick smiled and shook his head at the thought.

“I, uh, decided to stay…?” he answered her, well, more of asked, really. The kids let go of his legs and took each one of his hand, pulling him to get inside the house.

Natasha arched a brow and stepped aside to let them in. “Steve is grilling on the backyard, we’re still waiting for some of the guests to arrive,” she informed him, watching him sit on the couch.

Nick nodded absent-mindedly as he looked around the living room; the house just feels so warm and so… not Natasha. Not that he doesn’t think she’s a warm person, no, but she’s just not one to settle for domesticity. That’s why she’s one of his best agents - she’s not one to get attached or dwell on herself for too long. She’s cold and closed off - he knows that the only ones to get through her barrier are himself, Clint, and occasionally, Maria Hill. So to see this Natasha - wearing a casual tee and shorts, with her hair long and up in a messy bun - is a nice change.

She also looks younger and happier . Nick isn’t one for using cheesy words or anything, but there’s nothing else to describe it - Natasha is positively glowing. Natasha caught Nick looking at her and narrowed her eyes and tilted her head while he gave her the look . It’s the look he usually gives her when she questions him during meetings and she laughed.

“You know, I missed that look,” she said, moving to sit next to him, the little boy on his lap. “I haven’t seen that since your last meeting,” she said fondly, stroking the boy’s hair.

“My last meeting?” he asked incredulously. Surely she’s not implying that-

Natasha narrowed her eyes at him once again. “Yes. You know, the last meeting you had before retiring?” Nick’s eyes widened fractionally - never the one to openly display his reactions, but Natasha noticed it nonetheless - and he stayed silent. Natasha sighed, leaning back on the couch. “You’re not Nick Fury, are you?”

Nick frowned. “The he-” he was going to say ‘hell’ until Natasha widened her eyes and looked down at the boy on her lap. Nick cleared his throat. “What do you mean, I’m not Nick Fury? You know me better than that, Romanoff.”

Natasha chuckled and poked the child. “Hey James, go get daddy and play with Sarah for a little bit please?” the boy - James, it seems - beamed up at her and kissed her cheek before jumping down and running out. Natasha looked back up at Nick, who was watching the two intently. “See, that’s how I knew you’re not Nick.”

Nick opened his mouth to defend himself but Natasha held up a hand to continue. “Yes, you’re Nick Fury - I don’t think you’re a Skrull,” she said, smiling and shaking her head. “But I have a feeling that you’re not from this timeline, aren’t you?” she asked, as if a person not in the same ‘timeline’ is a very normal occurrence. Since when did she know about Skrulls? Is Carol back?

He was about to answer when Steve Rogers walked in, an apron fastened around his waist. Nick tried not to laugh as he got closer and leaned down to kiss the top of Natasha’s head as if he hadn’t seen her in a while. “Nick? What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in Mexico with Phil and May by this time?”

Natasha waited until Steve was sitting next to her before speaking. “I don’t think this is our Nick.”

Steve frowned and stared at Nick. “Is Talos playing a prank on us again?”

“How do you know Talos?” Nick spoke up and sat up straighter.

Natasha grinned. “See, you’re not our Nick, but I think you’re still actually Nick Fury.”

Nick Fury just looked at her passively, obviously asking for an explanation.

“Nick, what was the date yesterday?” Steve asked.

“June 17, 2012.”

Natasha and Steve shared a look - in sync, Nick noticed with fascination - before turning back to him.

“Nick,” Natasha began softly. Uh oh. He does not like where this is going. “I’m sorry to tell you but the date today is September 28, 2025; you’re 13 years into the future…” she trailed off, laying a hand on his knee and squeezing it.

“The Nick Fury in this timeline is currently on vacation in Mexico with Phil Coulson and Melinda May as well as other SHIELD agents. He must have left his backup phone at home.” Steve added.

Nick stayed silent, trying to process what he just heard. “Do you know how to get me home? Or back to 13 years ago, at least?” he asked after a while.

Natasha and Steve exchanged a look. Again. Nick fought the urge to roll his eyes. Really, they’re cute, but they’re going to make someone feel left out if they continue to do their silent communication thing.

“Well, we do have a way to travel through time… but it’s complicated. Do you think anyone from your time can bring you back?” Steve asked.

Natasha snorted, making both men turn to look at her. “He’s from June 2012. That’s a month after the Battle of New York. Time travel won’t even be on our minds back then. I highly doubt it.”

Steve cast her a sheepish smile before raking his fingers through his hair. “Well, I guess we gotta do a part three of the Time Heist, then.”

Nick raised an eyebrow at them. “Time Heist?”

“A lot of things happened in those 13 years, Nick.” Natasha answered with a smirk.

“I can tell,” Nick retorted, looking pointedly at the two. “Last time I saw you, a helicarrier blew your mind and you were crying about the 21st century. But now you’re talking about time travel like you do it everyday and both of you have two children and house with a white picket fence.” Nick tipped his chin at Steve. Natasha’s smirk grew wider while Steve blushed an angry scarlet and looked down, a shy smile playing on his lips.

“So spare me the gory details and tell me about you two,” Nick continued. “How did this-” he waved around them, “- happen?”

“Well, all I can say about that is you’re the best matchmaker ever,” Steve answered, squeezing Natasha’s hand, his eyes twinkling.

—

After a whole afternoon-long conversation, Scott was ready to take Nick home. They all went to the Compound to set everything up and explain the mechanics of it to Nick.

“You ready?” Natasha asked Nick as she and Steve approached him.

“As I’ll ever be,” he answered with a smile.

“Here, keep this,” Steve took out a picture of James and Sarah from his wallet and handed it to Nick, who was hesitant to take it at first. “Really, it’s okay. We have thousands of pictures at home,” Steve reassured with a chuckle. “Besides, you’re the reason we happened. Or should I say, the catalyst that made us happen. I know Nat and I’s partnership were rocky at the beginning so whenever you feel like screaming your head off at us, just look at this photo. I swear, it’ll help.”

“Maybe all that yelling I did was what made your sexual tension snap,” Nick joked, making Natasha blink and look at Steve. Nick noticed the action. “Don’t tell me-”

He was cut off by Scott calling him to get in position. He shook both Steve’s and Natasha’s hands as he made his way to Scott. After a wave at everyone, he was gone.

“You know, he’s not wrong. It was after that one mission where he yelled at us after we fucked up in Ireland that we first…” Steve cocked his head down at Natasha, who was smirking up at him.

“Tested the durability of Irish-made headboards?” Natasha asked, licking his lips as they both reminisced their first “casual sex” night together. Steve let out a throaty chuckle and leaned down to clash their lips together.

“My god, go home you two!” Tony yelled, rolling his eyes fondly as he brought Scott back.

Steve and Natasha were pulling away from each other just as Scott materialized. “Aw, I want a kiss from Captain America too.”

“Oh, I’ll give you a kiss,” Sam piped up, waggling his eyebrows at Scott, who walked over to him and gave him a hi-five.

—

“Nick! You’re alive!” Maria Hill all but shouted in surprise as he walked in his office in the Triskellion. She was at his desk furiously flipping through reports.

“Why do you sound so surprised?” he asked, approaching his desk. Maria stood up from his chair and made way for him.

Maria gave him a weird look as he sat down. “What do you mean? Nick, part of that building exploded , we have 10 SHIELD agents casualties. Well, I guess it’s just 9 since you’re here…” she muttered the last part to herself. “But you were the only one missing - we figured you were vaporized on the spot. The others died from the explosion itself. These are their files,” she pointed at the stack of folders on his desk.

“You thought I was vaporized ?” Ouch. That sounded like a harsh way to die, even for Nick. Maria just nodded grimly. “I was just… transported somewhere else.”

Maria perked up at that. “Oh? Dr. Selvig had that theory but we all thought it was nuts… he said based on the energy, you must have been brought in another time.”

Fury scoffed. “Well, he’s not wrong.” Maria tilted her head, fishing for more information, but Nick waved his hand. “Another time. Are Romanoff and Rogers here?”

Maria nodded. “Yes, sir. They were both in town because the facility in New York had to be renovated. Most of our active agents are here save for Agent Barton who’s still out on his mission.”

“Can you call Romanoff and Rogers in, please?”

“Yes, sir. Do you need anything else?” Maria asked and Fury shook his head. She gave him a nod and exited the room.

Once he was alone again, Nick pulled the picture Steve gave him. James looks just like Steve except he got his mother’s eyes and most of her hair color. Sarah, however, was all Natasha, except for her father’s bright blue eyes and blonde hair. He smiled fondly at the picture and put it back in his wallet just as he heard his agents approach his door.

“You called us in, sir?” Steve’s head popped up from the door. Nick nodded and Steve and Natasha walked in, standing in front of him.

“I never thought you’re dead, you know, for the record. I believed Dr. Selvig,” Natasha told him smugly, making Nick chuckle.

“Well. I’m back and I have a mission for the two of you.” he took one of the folders from his desk and slid it forward to them. “This will be your first solo mission as official partners.”

Silence followed his statement as the words hung in the air. He raised an eyebrow at them, waiting for the blow up that’s about to happen. He almost thought they’d go down without a fight until:

“NICK!”

“Sir, I’m not-”

“He’s not a spy-”

“I’m really more of a sold-”

“Clint is my part-”

Ah, there it is. Nick leaned back in his chair and let the two of them scream it out, their words drowning the other out. This is fascinating to watch, really. After a few more moments, the two eventually stopped, huffing, when they noticed that their director was silent.

“So there’s that. The folder has everything you need to know. Take what you need and report back when you’re done. Good luck!” Nick said with a fake cheerful voice and a big smile. The voice might be fake but the smile was real. He really was excited.

He saw Natasha glare at Steve, who looked just as pissed, if not a little horrified. She grabbed the folder from his desk like a snake would snap at its prey, and promptly turned on her heels to exit the room, Steve following with his head hanging down.

Nick has to admit, he thought there would be more fight. But he also knows that Natasha knows that once he puts his mind onto something, it’s not going to change. Once they were fully gone from his office, he leaned back on his chair and pulled out his wallet to look at James and Sarah again. Oh, these two motherfuckers don’t know what’s in store for them, he mumbled to himself and grinned mischievously.

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probably-writing-x · 6 years ago

Text

High Society (The Reveal)

~A Tom Holland AU Series~

Tags: @imarypayne @sunshine112 @sleepwalkingdragon @supernatural-girl97 @vibhati123 @butithasntkilledyouyet @faefictions @carisi-sonny @trap-house-homiecide @shamelessbookaddict @tommydaspidey @oneblckcoffee

Warnings: In-detail depictions of death and murder, language warning, mentions of violence and gang crime.

Notes: Wow! It's finally here!!! I hope this reveal lives up to your expectations... I'm so nervous to post it ahhhh! Let me know allof your final thoughts...

~~~Wednesday 30th January 2019~~~

"-I am arresting you under suspicion of the murder of Imogen Clarke. You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention something that you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given as evidence," Her voice is certain of every word and you swear for a moment you feel all hearts drop to the tiled floor. Going, going, gone.

~~~Friday 25th January 2019~~~

"Dad, please stop going on about it," You sigh, fixing the light curls of your hair for the millionth time, "Can I not just enjoy tonight? Or is that not allowed after the big sister reveal?"

Peter and Evan were stood in the doorway of your bedroom, clearly giving you extremely unimpressed looks about your decision to attend the Winter Ball.

"It's not just Imogen," Peter points out, nudging at his husband, "You know how we feel about that Thomas kid,"

You let out an exaggerated groan, turning around to face them, "Stop it! You're acting like he's completely destroying who I am. In fact, he's the only reason I actually want to be there tonight. I would be very happy to never have to see Imogen again. But I want to spend one last night at that school before you flip everything upside down again, okay?"

Your outburst was unexpected by all of you and your Dads are stunned into a welcomed silence, both of them looking at their baby girl with blinking eyes, refusing to believe that this school had changed her that much. But it had. And, of course, they wouldn't accept that. She was too pure to be tainted by the posh kids at that school.

"Tom's here," You sigh, more thankful than you'd be able to express to him. Turning quickly to check yourself in the mirror, you brush your hands cautiously over the material of your dainty dress, making sure the boxing gloves still hung right over your heart. You welcomed the nerves, it made this all feel like a real school dance - and not a shattering goodbye.

Tom was waiting at the door when you made your way down the stairs and the shine in his eyes made you instantly know you'd made the right choice with your dress. It was a dark sky blue colour and fell over the curves of your hips, cutting off at the point on your thighs where your stretch marks faded. His eyes echoed a mix of complete adoration and an utter surprise that you'd be the one he'd attend the ball with tonight.

"Hello stranger," He croaks out, quickly clearing his throat to try to avoid his cheeks growing too much of a pink glow.

"Hello, Thomas," You chuckle, realising just how much you'd missed that damn face.

He grabs your hand when you're just close enough to him and pulls you flush against his chest, "Do we really have to go to the ball? Can't we have our own party?"

You hum against his words, welcoming the hot air that they bathed your face in, "Maybe we could sneak a few moments to ourselves,"

"I know this is meant to be some big reunion or whatever but can we please get going?" Sam calls from his seat in the back of Tom's car, poking his head out from the open window.

You laugh and greet the twins who had opted to dress in matching suits for the night. Tom opened your door for you and, soon, the four of you were journeying towards school; still with the sickening feeling in your stomach that it would be your last time.

~~~

The school was electrified with a warm buzz, with all of your year filtering through the doors and welcoming the familiarity of chart songs blasting through the overhead speakers. Tom was greeted by everyone he walked past and he made sure to say hello to them all, still happy to take the title of King of this school. It was only when he saw Lily that he really had to force the 'nice boy' demeanour.

"It's nice to see you Lily," He smiles politely, twisting his hand in yours slightly as though he still needed to confirm you were there, "Did you have a good holiday?"

"Oh relax with the small talk," She rolls her eyes, "Talk to me when you've got rid of the downgrade, honey," Her lips press against his cheek in a bitter display of affection before she's strutting off with an excessive display of confidence.

You speak up before Tom can even try to apologise, "Let's get a drink, I think we might need something stronger than punch if we're going to make it through comments like that,"

His laugh is a sound you didn't realise you were missing as he willingly accepts you tugging him towards the refreshments stand where Noah and Z are visible.

"Well hello, stars of the show," Noah wiggles his brows at the two of you, handing over a cup of fruit punch to Sam who had walked over too.

"Hey guys," You grin, reaching over to get two cups for you and Tom, "Did you have a good holiday?"

All of you engage in relaxed small talk until the sound of the microphone cracking makes everyone's eyes divert toward the stage.

Mrs Osterfield took her position behind the microphone and cleared her throat. It was only then that everyone else joined you: Harrison, Lily, Harry, Noah, Zendaya, Sam, Imogen, Tom and you.

"Well, you all look beautiful tonight guys and I'm glad we can all be here to celebrate together. Something I've really noticed about this group is the community spirit - you are all one big team and that's something that you should really embrace-" She continues with her speech about how brilliant you all were before the lights dim in the sports hall and you're all left in a strange, prolonged darkness.

It is only then that something flashes. You can't help but divert your eyes to Zendaya and Noah, both hiding a deep pride for all of this, clearly being at the heart of the plan. You go back to reading the words spilling across the electronic screen.

'We were all told this term to expose something about ourselves and about each other. But it's time we expose something about the school we're relying on for our futures. How about them completely dismissing everything fucked up that's going on in our year? The manipulation of their teachers by eighteen year old students. The manipulation of other students by people forcing them into twisted relationships,'

Everybody in your group looks to Imogen who is red with a burning fury.

'We're living in a fucked up school. And Lily, Imogen, all of you, this is where it stops,"

The lights don't come back on but the chatter of every student in here is enough to cover any need for illumination. Enough had already been seen. And, in the blue light glow of the enlarged screen, you watch Imogen storm away from the crowd. When you glance back up, Zendaya and Noah have disappeared into the crowd and it is too dark to see where they've gone.

You find yourself following the focus of the recent exposure and you finally catch up with Imogen at the stairs.

"Imogen," You start, watching as she pauses in her high-heeled steps on the inclined floor.

"Did you set this up? Was this all you?" She questions, clearly not holding enough respect for you to justify her making any eye contact.

"No, god, no. I had no idea," You respond.

It felt strange to be seeing her now, not just as the bitch Imogen but as a girl you had spent your first moments as the sibling of. The girl you had the potential to grow up to want to be just like.

"Then what do you want? Are you here for an apology or something?" It is only now that she turns round, arms folded and looking in all ways dissimilar from you. Maybe you were thankful for that - her beauty held a chilling sin.

"I found something out over Christmas and I think it's important that you know," You begin, wrapping your hands around each other to express your nerves without trembling onto the ground.

"Well? Spit it out,"

"You're my sister," You manage to finally release, the words feeling sickening to be directed at someone you wanted to completely despise.

The look on her face was one you were all too knowing to not expect. A mocking smirk and the delicate release of a pathetic laugh.

"What the fuck is that meant to mean?" She scoffs, stepping one stair closer to you.

"What I just said. I was ado-" You begin but she is quick to cut you off, stepping so close that you could see every particle of her makeup.

"Oh, honey, don't act like there's some familial bond between us," She lets out an exasperated laugh, "Because, sis, I'm pretty sure family wouldn't be willing to help somebody steal from me,"

You're sure it is audible when your words clatter against the floor, echoing irritatingly through mocking halls.

"Don't test me, (Y/N)," She shakes her head, "And don't ever assume we're family, darling,"

And then she's gone, leaving you at the bottom of these stairs, sure that you were going to wake up in any moment. Nothing.

You're not sure how long you stay there, sitting against the cold stairs, until someone is there to greet you.

The familiar aftershave of Tom's wraps around you like a blanket as his arms hold your waist with a relieving comfort.

"So I lost everyone at the party, I literally couldn't find anyone," He comments, a harmless remark for now.

Tom pulls himself closer to you, his head only inches from yours.

"Is this our chance to get away?" He mumbles, breath hot as his lips brush your ear.

Tom needs no reply as he pulls you through the corridors and out through the doors towards the swimming pool.

"Tom," You hiss but you can't say anything more as you feel your back press against the harshness of the cold wall tiles. It forces you to let out an involuntary squeak that is instantly silenced by Tom's lips on yours.

You melt into the contact that you had been missing for weeks and forget all about the rest. It was just him.

When he pulls away, his forehead is on yours and his nose bumps subconsciously with yours, "(Y/N)," He begins, welcoming the breathless nature of his words, "I know. I know your parents want you to leave. And I know you're going to leave after tonight," His confession feels like you've just been hit against the tiled wall once again, forceful and unforgiving.

"I-" You start, "How did you find out?"

"I knew your Dads were still debating it so I found Evan's number and I spoke to him whilst you were away," You find yourself gripping onto him a little tighter as he speaks, "I pleaded with him for ages to try to get you to stay. But he said the only way you'd ever be able to carry on here would be if you separated yourself from everyone who's had a bad impact on you. From me,"

"Tom I'm not staying here if-"

"I also knew that would be your response. So, I want to spend this one last weekend with you and then we'll decide your fate after that. We'll decide if you stay or go. But, let's just get away for a weekend," His positive encouragement is enough to make you want to agree wholeheartedly.

"Okay," You whisper and his face brightens enough to make your dark surroundings feel blinding.

"Then let's go, you know what your parents are like. They wouldn't want you to step a foot out of here with me," He points out, his hand gripping yours with more certainty than ever.

Tom goes to pull you away and it is in that moment that everything just stops. The shattering blow was an unmistakable sound and so was the ear bursting thud that followed. And, then, a stumbling silence.

"What wa-" Tom begins but he sees the way your eyes glaze over. The way your hand falls out of his and the way he's sure your heart audibly stops. It is only then that his eyes follow yours, tracing the invisible path to where you couldn't bare to rip your gaze from.

Unmistakable.

You could see how their hands were trembling, and how the trophy fit into them with a deathly uncertainty, a foreign power. Their eyes held a fury that was washed over with a sheer shock at what their own actions had just caused. And their stumbling feet told you that their mind still hadn't processed what their instincts had just caused.

"No," Tom shakes his head, feet chasing after the scene like they'd run fast enough to rewind it, "No, no, no, no,"

It was as clear as day in the dim setting. Her body, unforgivingly lifeless in the scarlet pooling of her once rushing blood. Her eyes, fluttered shut to echo a false hope that she was peaceful, only to be shattered by the ragged wound across her styled hair.

"What have you done?" Tom yells, his eyes diverting around every single feature of this mess.

The trophy clattered to the floor in another bone shuddering clash. And you could see how their hands trembled, a vision of thankfulness for the power they were able ro release from grip.

"She- she knew too much," They stumbled over the words like it wasn't their mouth saying them and it wasn't their hands that had just stopped all knowledge she could have held.

It was in that moment you could see how unreal this all seemed to Tom. In front of him was no longer a person he knew. It was a person he was sure he never wanted to meet. Because, behind trembling hands and crying eyes, there was someone who had just killed another. A murderer. His brother.

"She knew about the gang, and she knew about the pregnancy test," He shakes and the movement is recognisable in his fearful words, "And then I heard her talking to you (y/n), she knew about the necklace and us and Harrison,"

Tom can't possibly rip his eyes away from the boy in front of him but you know he's wishing he could be anywhere else. That he could wake up and have his younger brother again, and not this tainted form of the boy he once was.

"Okay, you need to get out of here," You nod, certain of your unsure words, "Go through the back alley to your house and stay there until we tell you to come back. We'll just say you didn't feel well and you came back once you heard something had happened,"

He looks at you and his eyes are blurring with a terrified haze.

"Tom, me and you need to go. We'll go to the gym and just say that we went there after the whole fiasco at the ball to spend some time together. Nobody will question it," You say to him and it is only then that he makes eye contact with you.

"Tom, am I going to prison?" The younger holland brother asks, and it is only then that he truly starts to cry.

"Hey, hey," Tom steps over to him and grips his shoulders, "You're my brother. I'd do anything for you. That's what it means to be a Holland, okay Harry?"

And then he's running.

You force yourself with everything to look down at the lifeless body. The dried blood that stained her hair and trailed down her face. It all felt too gone. Like she'd been gone for far too long.

"We need to get rid of that fucking trophy," You mention and you're sure that everything around you is spinning apart from that blood soaked weapon.

"T-Tom?"

Both of you look up to see Sam stood frozen in the doorway of the swimming pool, looking between you and Tom like he wanted to run as far away from you as possible.

"Sam, buddy, we need you to do something," Tom states, "I need you to take that trophy, go out the back door, and get it as far away from here as possible,"

Sam can't help but listen to the words of his brother, whom he was willing to trust with his life.

"It was Harry, wasn't it?" He says as his hands grasp the cold, twisted metal of the trophy.

"Now's not the time," Tom replies, still refusing to confirm it yet, "Get out of here, go!"

It is as soon as his brothers are out of here that you see Tom decline. He runs his hands through his hair and you're sure he can feel everything around him crumbling.

"Babe, come on, we can't stay here," You grab at his hand and start pulling him toward the door, wanting to get as far away from the scene as your mind would let you run.

And the two of you set off like there's a fire at your heels. But what really chased at your escape was much worse than any fire could muster. It was the glass eyes of your blood relation, at the cold hands of Tom's own brother.

You're sprinting down the corridor behind Tom and watch as his hands tug at the tie around his neck, throwing it's silk to the floor in an absentminded throw. The restriction in his chest was impossible to stop.

And you were running - away from a fate that was far too sickening to fathom.

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