#i remember this case and it sucks ass severely but the fact that's she's there and she's 40 more than makes up for it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lunar-wandering · 3 years ago

Text

monkie kid winged au (flightless birds au) stuff, lets go

MK was born with wings that are a size too small, he can’t fly with them

Wukong’s wings were severely damaged by the mountain, to the point where he can’t fly. (his wings are the one part of him immortality/invulnerability doesn’t heal). he normally keeps them hidden for this reason, and most people who didn’t know him pre-havoc in heaven assume he never even had wings. (he can still use his cloud sail) (MK doesn’t know about Wukong’s wings)

Macaque only has one wing. He usually uses a glamor to make it seem like he has two.

MK originally started looking up to the Monkey King because “oh hey, it’s a hero that doesn’t need wings in order to fly”

Mei has hummingbird wings. she doesn’t really need them because of the whole Dragon and Motorbike and Being Fast thing, but they’re there

...everyone elses wings are up for debate/interpretation because i honestly know jack shit about birds

Wukong’s wings alongside being unusable are in uh. not all that good condition due to how he just. basically ignores them and hides them. (he uses a glamor to keep them hidden, but he doesn’t really....like remembering how damaged his wings are, so he doesn’t take care of them.)

Red Son only finds out that MK can’t fly when he knocks the other off a building and has to save him (....this happens in Bad Weather.)

the Sign Saga

basically theres a giant billboard within the city that people keep smacking into while flying (even Wukong smacked into it while cloud sailing once) and its seemingly indestructible. the sign also happens to have a drawing of Wukong on it with the slogan “the sky is a safe place to fly”

....the reason everyone keeps smacking into the sign is because a while back MK accidentally cursed it when he was upset over not being able to fly (and at the time was in possession of a cursed object).

Red Son finds out about this after he slammed into the sign hard enough he dislocated his wing and had to go to MK for help. (....this would be before the New Years special, so before Red Son’s redemption arc. have fun with that)

Red Son: what do you mean you cursed the sign???? MK: look, it wasn’t my fault, Red Son: YOU LITERALLY JUST SAID THAT YOU CURSED IT

Red Son smacks MK on the head using his uninjured wing because “you’re dumb Noodle Boy, I can’t believe you accidentally started the Sign Curse”

Wukong also hates the sign. for multiple reasons really, including the fact he did not get permission for it to be made (his lawyer has tried suing the company that put it up multiple times) but mostly because the sign having his face on it and saying “the sky is a safe place to fly” when he himself can’t fly with his wings is.....yeah. kinda upsetting.

LBD calls MK a “flightless bird”.....

“Oh poor little flightless bird who’s eyes are blinded by the sun... you were always destined to fall.”

as said earlier, MK doesn’t know about Wukong’s wings, so when Macaque shows Wukong as having wings in Shadow Play....well MK is understandably confused.

“But Monkey King doesn’t have wings!” “Doesn’t have- ha! Oh, bud, exactly how much has your so called mentor kept hidden from you?”

when LBD starts trying to turn MK to stone in the season 2 finale, she managed to get his wings. they ache and have lost some of their colour for some extent of time after.

on the ship, the others demand Wukong remove his glamors so that they can treat his injuries, and. this is how they find out about Wukong’s wings

said wings currently have some bloodied bandages wrapped around them, because whatever got the rest of him also got his wings. not to mention the fact his wings were already in horrible condition, so-

they lecture him about proper wing care

remember how Macaque only has one wing?

that wasn’t always the case

Wukong, at this point in time, thinks that he’s the one who did it, and is utterly horrified by it. this may or may not be why he won’t use the full extent of his powers

.....he’s not actually the one who did it

theres a reason Macaque knew about LBD

*(casually projects my fear of heights onto Macaque)*

i will not be elaborating on that other than the fact that when he lost his wing the fight did not occur on solid ground

in this AU when LBD possesses someone, their wings become skeletal

this isn’t necessarily canon to this AU, but if she were to possess Macaque, a ghostly see through wing would appear where his missing one is

...on a completely different note though. once everyone is on the ship some of them have to carry Macaque and Wukong around when they need to go someplace that requires flying (since, yknow, Wukong lost his ability to cloud sail)

Wukong resigns himself to it after 5 minutes but Macaque complains and struggles so much (fear of heights kicking in) that the only person who can safely carry him is Sandy

MK got a hoverboard so he doesn’t have to be carried. (Wukong wanted to use the hoverboard too but he Sucked Ass at it and none of them are taking the chance of him falling off)

Red Son and Mei both take MK for flights sometimes. why? because its fun, thats why.

and....thats about all i have for this au thus far. will make more posts when theres more hdkfjflkjslks

#Monkie Kid #Winged AU #Flightless Birds AU #long post

146 notes · View notes

ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years ago

Text

Like You Want To Be Loved

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Explicit (E) Notes: This is my fic for my @starkerfestivals summer BINGO “body worship” square & my @peterparkerbingo “carry you to bed” square. This one is short and sweet, so - I hope you guys enjoy the cute little verse I created (that I’ll more than likely revisit soon!!). Here’s my bingo card (x & x) - if you see something on there you might want written, shoot me a message!!! Word Count: 3K Warnings: There’s a tiny bit of smut in here, but it’s me writing, so when is that not the case? Summary:

By Friday, Peter was clingy in all the perfect ways – there wasn’t any physical need for release, just the underlying necessity of being close to one another. When Tony was cognizant enough, he made a warm bath and spent most of the morning showering Peter with kisses while the omega got them clean. For the rest of the day, they lingered on the couch, watching Netflix and alternating between making out languorously and eating the rest of the snacks they had in the house. By the end of the night, Peter was passed out against his shoulder, out like a light.

Though Tony attempted to rouse him, Peter was asleep and after such a long and tiring week, Tony couldn’t blame him. It took little effort to heft the sleeping omega into his arms, Peter snuggled into him without fail, his nose going right to Tony’s neck, the fingers of his right-hand lingering on the flatness of his belly.

Or: the one where Peter goes into heat after years of suppressant use and Tony is more than there for it.

Read on AO3 here.

It’d been a long week.

Halfway through Tony’s Monday morning lecture, Peter called with a heated panic laced through his voice. Earlier in the year, Tony convinced Peter to stop his suppressants. They’d been mated and married for more than two years. After spending so much time alone, learning how to love each other, it finally felt right to start sharing that love with others; especially those with the dark chocolate of Peter’s eyes and unruly curls coming from either one of them.

When he first met the omega, Tony never imagined wanting kids. Having such a young mate was more than enough. Upon first getting to know each other, Tony was finishing his fifth year of teaching, finding himself up for tenure already. Until Peter stumbled into his lab by accident, Tony wasn’t sure he’d ever take a mate. Adjusting to the upbeat lifestyle of being with someone so young took a while, but Tony soon found himself liking the extra time they spent out amongst the world. In his sappiest times, Tony would easily admit that he’d follow Peter anywhere – as long as the young omega was there, a good time was guaranteed to be had.

It was Peter who first brought up the idea of expanding their family. They were enjoying Tony’s winter break in the Parker’s small family cabin in upstate New York, sipping on Mama Stark’s cocoa recipe. Firewood was crackling, setting the perfect atmosphere for Peter to stutter out – “how do you feel about kids?” without any preamble.

Looking up from his place at Peter’s side on the couch, Tony stopped the rubbing motion over the sole of Peter’s foot. Despite being mated for a while, Tony still felt the need to always be touching his omega. Peter took advantage of that by throwing the random, achy body parts he wanted touched in Tony’s greedy hands – that night it was his right foot. Tilting his head at the thought, Tony snuggled into Peter’s side a bit more, sucking in a deep breath. “I think I might like one or two. Especially if they look like you,” Tony replied, leaning his head against Peter’s shoulder. Though the omega didn’t say anything, Tony felt a soft kiss to the top of his head – then Peter’s foot was pressing back into his hands in a less than subtle demand.

It didn’t take long for Peter to bring up the arduous process of coming off his stimulants. When they spoke to the doctor, she mentioned one to several months of the body working itself back into its natural state. For a while, Tony could tell Peter was miffed by the timeline. If his young omega got something in his head, there was no stopping Peter from getting what he wanted.

Of course, the omega was young and healthy, his body more than ready to step up to the plate and work a little biological magic. Tony was surprised when Peter was moaning on the other side of the line, frantically telling Tony to get home that very second. As awkward as it was to take the call in the middle of a lecture, Tony was seconds away from popping an ill-timed and completely pheromone driven erection. He stayed behind the podium as he less than subtly kicked everyone out.

The drive home was longer than ever before – five minutes felt like a lifetime when he recalled the breathy way Peter said his name, the way he mumbled ‘alpha’ into the phone so restlessly. Really, the simple fact that he had to drive home at all was a terrible inconvenience.

Keeping his briefcase on the seat, Tony tore his seatbelt off, practically running into the house with little thought. By the time he got to the front door, Tony could smell the intoxicating scent of Peter Parker-Stark in the midst of his heat. Thinking back to the weekend, Tony remember the little pre-heat signs – Peter’s nesting, the clingy way his mate stuck to his side seemingly every minute of both Saturday and Sunday. Tony momentarily felt foolish for not recognizing the signs. It’d been over two years since they spent a heat together and the signs were subtle.

Those thoughts were out the window the minute he walked through the door. Peter was sprawled across the couch; the flannel shirt Tony wore the day before the only stitch of clothing on his entire body. The usually chocolate-colored eyes were a rich gold, flaring the moment Peter recognized the addition of Tony’s scent. Though he didn’t move, Peter became all the more enticing.

Quickly stripping off the sweater he wore to teach that morning, Tony peeled the cashmere off his skin, following seamlessly by his pants, boxer briefs, socks and shoes. He was more naked than Peter before either could truly take a deep breath. Tony took his time making his way over to Peter then – his hand drifted down the center of his chest to wrap around the base of his cock, the view of Peter and the delicate mingling of their scents all the sudden overpowering. If he didn’t stroke his cock, Tony felt like he might spontaneously combust.

Tony allowed himself a handful of strokes before his hands became otherwise occupied with the smoothness of Peter’s skin. Finally, what felt like ages since he stepped in the door, Tony was close enough to reach out and touch, to feel the pulsating warmth of Peter’s heat humming just under the surface of his skin. The flannel parted just right to show off the omega’s interest; Peter’s cock was stiff, and a trickle of slick slid shamelessly down his right leg. As much as Tony wanted to dive into the cleft of Peter’s beautiful ass, the last place he wanted to spend his husband’s first heat since their mating was the living room couch.

With little prompting, Tony got Peter to wrap his muscled thighs around his hips – with so much testosterone and mating pheromones coursing through his veins, Tony had no problem carrying the young omega up the stairs. He tried to deposit Peter on the bed lightly, but the omega had other plans. Long arms wrapped around Tony’s neck, tugging until their lips were meeting in a scalding kiss.

Peter’s hands were everywhere, sliding down Tony’s back, in his hair, even up his sides and across the front of his chest. While his hands quested, Peter’s lips sipped at Tony’s, their tongues tangling wildly as adrenaline and that certain something that was completely them and their connection lingering in the air. Tony took his time enjoying Peter, here shortly, coherency would be the last thing on either of their minds.

Their hard cocks were grinding against each other with every movement, Peter was slick everywhere, making the move easy. Each time Tony felt Peter pick up his hips, Tony’s control over things slipped a little further. Before long, he broke their kiss to bury his nose into the side of Peter’s neck; Tony pressed kisses across Peter’s mating bite, taking the rich scent of iron and fire and sweetness with gasping breaths.

Tony forced himself away from the spot he could easily get attached too – sentimentally, so many memories resided in the scar that marred Peter’s skin. The fact that Tony smelt himself on Peter the most there only played into it somewhat (or a lot). Shaking his head of the thought, Tony trailed his lips further down the long length of Peter’s neck, across his shoulders, and down along shapely pecs. Each nipple was bathed with affection, Tony brought the delicate nub into his mouth, tonguing at it until the skin was pebbled, the peak warm in his mouth. Peter’s moans at every touch only worked to drive Tony on.

Further down Peter’s chest, Tony took his time tracing the outer rim of Peter’s belly button, the sides of his shirt parting after he fumbled with the buttons one by one. With both hands, Tony traced over Peter’s sides, his fingers tangling in the hair covering Peter’s belly. As he aged, the omega got a little furrier. Surprisingly, Tony liked the slowly thickening hair, it felt amazing under his fingertips. Tugging ever so slightly, Tony toyed with the softness of Peter’s skin until restless hips made themselves known.

Tony wasn’t about to spend time teasing either of them. With a quick move, Peter’s legs were spread, making room for Tony between them. Both his hands slipped between slick cheeks; Peter’s hole clenched in subconscious anticipation. Grinning at the sight, Tony wasted no time diving into the fragrant wetness. Peter’s looseness spoke of heat that was further along. Tony glanced up, suddenly proud of the man writhing above him. Heat colored eyes met his then, an easy grin on Peter’s lips. “Alpha,” Peter moaned, his eyes flashing.

Unable to stop himself after that, Tony dug in, nosing first at the gap of Peter’s cheeks and then further into the crevice, his lips barely kissing at Peter’s hole. A gush of slick slipped out onto his tongue, Peter’s hole clenching without any prompting. Tony felt his cock harden, in a few moments, Tony wouldn’t be able to enjoy the little details nearly as much. Conscious of that, Tony worked hard to make Peter whimper. His tongue and fingers worked until Peter was muttering ‘please’ and ‘Tony’ on a loop. Another couple of licks were all Tony was capable of before he climbed helplessly between Peter’s legs. He couldn’t resist the call any longer.

He grabbed at Peter’s thighs, picking them up until they were around his hips. With a quick move of his hips, Tony’s cock was pressed against the teasing wink of Peter’s hold – Tony knew the omega couldn’t even help it, not when need was slowly creeping in. Tony could tell, simply by breathing in, that the very worst was about to begin. The stirring of his knot had him ducking his head, pressing his lips against Peter’s with heat. “Ready?”

Peter’s answer was his hips lifting and the tilt of his head. Without having to move, the head of Tony’s cock slipped into tight heat, the drenched slide unlike anything the manufactured lube they normally used provided. Tony sunk into the hilt, his hips stopping his movement before Tony could himself. Peter tightened the grip of his thighs, keeping him there. For just a second, Peter ran his hands restlessly over Tony’s skin, mapping out the feel of it. That move, Peter’s recollection of everything Tony, was old hat. Every time they came together, Peter traced him like that – like he needed the tangible reminder of the way Tony felt under his touch. Sighing into the contact, Tony waited until those restless hands were buried into his hair, tugging lightly.

“Fuck me, Alpha. Please.”

Tony didn’t hesitate to comply – his hips were moving on their own accord, anyway. Wrapping his arms around Peter’s shoulders, Tony kept the omega close as he used his hips to satiate the fire that slowly burned along Peter’s existence. Every move was in sync, Peter rolled his hips to meet Tony’s thrusts – the easy motion kept each one deep, the tip of Tony’s cock enticingly brushing against Peter’s prostate; every move was expertly aimed. Little by little, Tony and Peter took each other apart, husbands, alpha and omega – moving together.

When the end came, Peter clung helplessly to Tony, his nails uselessly running over abused skin in an attempt to hold on. Peter was whimpering, every sound hitting Tony in the gut with the need to sooth them, to finally give his mate a knot and that sweet release Tony felt building up with every brush of his stomach against Peter’s cock. Leaning down to first nose of Peter’s bonding mark, then lip over the omega’s ear, Tony whisper lightly, his voice gravely.

“Cum for me, Pete. I’m so close to giving you my knot. I want to thrust in with that tight clench around me, to claim you again, omega.” Tony kept his words low, each one tangibly hitting Peter – the younger man’s skin pebbled under Tony’s touch. With another hard thrust, Tony felt Peter clamp down around him, Peter’s orgasm pulling Tony’s knot almost immediately. Biting down on the mark he placed all that time ago, Tony nuzzled into the spot, moaning “Pete” helplessly.

The rest of the week went a lot like that. There were increasingly more lucid moments where Peter asked for slow touches mixed into the desperate moments where Tony took his omega in a pheromone induced haze. Regardless of whether they were successful in creating a little life together, they gave it their all.

As Tony tucked Peter into bed, the young omega wrapped his hands around Tony’s neck, giving him a sleepy kiss. “I love you, Tony,” Peter mumbled, burying himself into the blankets. Smiling, Tony stripped out of his shirt and joined his husband on the bed. He slung his arm around Peter’s middle.

With a kiss to the back of the neck, Tony mumbled the words back, settling into all the spaces that were meant solely for him. Before falling back to sleep, Peter grabbed his hand, placing it on the warmth of his belly. Spreading his fingers, Tony pictured what their little peanut was going to look like, swelling the thinness of the beauty in his arms. His lips were stretched out into a grin when sleep found him.

#starker #sfsummerbingo21 #peterparkerbingo2021 #peter parker #peter parker/tony stark #bobbie writes #like you want to be loved

62 notes · View notes

justcourttee · 5 years ago

Text

And They Were Roommates-Pt 2

Marinette woke to the piercing ring from her alarm clock. With a groan, she blindly hit her nightstand, trying to find the snooze.

“Marinette! If you snooze, you’ll be late again! Professor Brookes may like you, but she did threaten that one more tardy to the meetings and you’ll be fired!”

Tikki pulled at a strand of Marinette’s hair trying to pull the girl from her bed.

“Tikki it’s just five more minutes, please!”

“Dupen-Chang, Tikki wanted to wake you the nice way but if you don’t get your ass out of bed in the next five seconds, I will dump a cup of ice down your shirt.”

Marinette’s eyes flew open as she sat straight up, scowling at the sight of Chloe and Tikki high-fiving.

“I hate you two.”

“Mhm, now go shower. You look and smell like you just wrestled with pigs.”

Chloe’s nose scrunched up as she threw a towel at the girl. Marinette rolled out of bed with a heavy sigh, trudging to the bathroom.

“Chloe, will you pick me out an outfit?”

“Already done, now hurry up!”

Turning on the water, Marinette noticed the dark ink covering her skin. A beautiful robin stretched from her wrist to her elbow, every last detail drawn with care. She sucked in a sharp breath as she allowed her fingers to trace over the artwork. As she stepped into the shower, her eyes never left the picture, scared her soulmate would erase it before she had a chance to photograph it for later inspiration.

Turning off the water, she wrapped her towel around her body tightly before racing back to her room, almost diving for her phone. Her tongue stuck out of her mouth from the pure concentration of capturing the art at the right angle. Once she was sure it was photographed properly, she fumbled for the pen on her nightstand.

“I love waking up to your artwork, would you mind leaving it for the day?”

She stared intently at her hand, waiting for his response that couldn’t seem to come fast enough.

“Dupen-Chang! If you want a ride, you better be dressed in the next five minutes!”

Chloe's voice echoed through the apartment, snapping Marinette out of her trance. Within three minutes, she pulled on the dress Chloe had laid out and managed to pull her hair back in a messy bun, sticking a pen through it just in case. She was working on the heels when she finally felt the tingle.

“Sorry Angel, important interview today. I’ll leave you something tomorrow though. Promise”

Marinette let out a defeated sigh, but tried to push it out of her mind. After all, she couldn’t be mad, he had a life too, one he didn’t want to publicize and she could respect that. Putting the final touches on her outfit, she grabbed her purse, leaning down beside the dollhouse to allow Tikki to fly in.

“Dupen-Chang!”

“Coming Chloe!”

Tikki let out a giggle as Marinette rolled her eyes. It was going to be a long day.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Ms. Dupen-Chang, can I see you in my office please?”

Marinette internally groaned as she plastered a smile on her face. She picked up her design book, throwing a cover over the mannequin before she turned to walk toward the professor's office.

“What can I do for you Professor Brookes?” Her smile was sickly sweet as she stared down at the woman.

“Sit, please.” Brookes didn’t even look up from her paperwork, just made a vague gesture to the seat in front of her desk. After several minutes, she finally looked up, making a show of clicking her pen shut.

“Do you know why I called you in Marinette?”

“Because you were lonely and wanted someone to talk to?”

She offered the woman a pity smile, but Professor Brookes was not having it.

“You have refused every offer I have arranged for you in the past three months. Marinette, what did I tell you when you accepted this position in my work field for young entrepreneurs?”

Marinette let out a sigh, her eyes falling to the ground.

“It’s easier to work under a big name and break away than it is to build your own empire. But Professor-”

“Exactly. So tell me, why exactly have you refused not only Giorgio Armani and Karl Lagerfeld, but now I hear that Audrey Bourgeois has been after you for years now and you’ve refused her as well!”

Marinette bit her lip, trying her best to level her breathing before she snapped at the woman.

“With all due respect Professor Brookes, they don’t want my name on the designs. I can’t make a name for myself if everyone else is taking credit for my work. If there’s any way you can find me an internship under someone who will let me be myself I’d be more than glad to take them on.”

It was Professor Brookes turn to sigh as she slipped off her glasses, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“You’re a talented girl Marinette, nobody is denying that. But you just don’t understand how the business world works. This work field is for entrepreneurs who will listen to my advice, not do everything in their power to ignore it.”

“I understand if you want me to relinquish my position Professor Brookes. I’m sure you could fill it easily.”

The professor looked up, her face unreadable as she stared down the designer. Several minutes passed and a sinking feeling began to settle in Marinette’s gut.

“Ms. Dupen-Chang, what you’re asking me to do is to find you a sponsor. They’ll put their good name on the line for you, allow you to take credit for your work, and in return you’ll give them a portion of your profit. That’s anywhere from 5%-25% depending on how the sponsor operates. If I do this for you, you are going to have to up your production levels from one outfit a week to three, which means you’ll need to be here for three days instead of just one. Is this something you really want?”

Marinette’s heart pounded in her chest as she felt her body flood with relief.

“It is. I really want a sponsor.”

“Then it’s settled, I’ll need you to complete a portfolio including pictures of models wearing your designs and at least three test designs that I can send to possible contenders. The test designs allow them to view your work up close and personal to look at stitchwork and such. I’m assuming you already have models in mind seeing as you live with two of them?”

Marinette nodded, her heart feeling as if it were about to explode with joy.

“I won’t let you down Professor Brookes.”

The designer stood hastily, practically running back to her workstation.

“I’ll need all of that before the first day of spring semester Marinette!”

The professor's voice echoed in her ears but she was too stunned to care. She was getting a real chance and that meant she had to put everything into the next month. Sitting on the spinning chair, Marinette pulled out her phone to view the picture she had taken earlier. Admiring his sketch, an idea began to form in her head as she cleared the workstation, laying out her various pencils.

After a couple minutes of sketching, her phone began to buzz. At first she ignored it, trying to focus on her design, but after the third time, she finally gave in.

“Chloe, I’m sorry, I know I said 3 but it’s looking like 5 or 6 instead, I finally got the break I was hoping for.”

“Well that’s great Dupen-Chang, but you see, I have a guy here responding to the ad placed this morning and I just wanted to ask if we could interview him without you.”

Marinette sat down her pencil, her eyebrows furrowing in concern. She distinctly remembered emailing Julia for the spot, but she never sent in the ad. So either Julia’s newest boyfriend was applying or someone from the news team was.

“He’s not dating Julia is he?”

“I don’t know, let me ask. Hey! You! You’re not dating Julia, right? No? He said no.”

Marinette shook her head as she looked up at the ceiling, trying her best to send apologies to the boy.

“So?”

“Go ahead Chloe, that’s assuming you haven’t chased him off already. I’ll be ready to go in an hour.”

“Great, you’re the best. Congrats on your break, I’ll order some food from that italian restaurant near our apartment to celebrate.”

Before Marinette could even respond, the line went dead, leaving her to stare at her sketchbook in slight despair. The poor guy would be scared senseless before she even got a chance to meet him. With a sigh, she returned to her sketch, determined to finish at least one design before she left for the day.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Marinette waved bye to Professor Brookes before she made her way up the stairs to her apartment. She had texted both Chloe and Adrien several times, but neither came to pick her up, something she was going to lay into them for.

“Hey guys what’s the deal-”

She stopped in her tracks as her eyes couldn’t process the sight in front of her. Adrien was playing Ultimate Mecha Strike V, but that wasn’t the problem. No, the problem lied in the fact that some guy she had never seen before was battling him using her lucky controller.

“Hey Mari! Meet Damian Al Ghul, our new roommate!”

The guy stood up, offering his hand, but Marinette’s eyes weren’t focused on his. Instead, she watched in horror as he tossed her control backwards onto the couch, the force sending it flying to the floor.

“Damian huh?” She pushed past his outstretched hand to pick up her controller, examining it for any cracks or chips in the paint job.

“Yes?” He moved his hand to awkwardly rub the back of his neck, trying to figure out what he had done wrong.

Marinette sent a sour look at Adrien who only shrugged.

“Damian is a double major as well Mari, history and business, sound familiar?”

“I hear you are quite competent in both subjects.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, setting her controller on the coffee table before standing to face the man.

“I’m more than ‘competent’, I excel in both with a perfect 4.0 GPA.”

Damian scoffed sending a wave of fury through the girl. Just who did this guy think he was? Adrien watched the interaction, amusement clearly written on his face.

“So Mari, you want to play the winner of this round?”

“No, thanks. I’m going to study. My first final is on Tuesday, just ask Chloe to leave my food in the microwave, I’ll get to it later.”

Without another word, she marched back to her bedroom, shutting the door harder than she meant to. She pulled out her sketchbook, opening it to her unfinished design from earlier. Her pencil hovered over the page as she tried to remember the feeling she had earlier.

“Tikki, how did I manage to let him get under my skin in less than five minutes?”

She let out a groan as she fell backwards onto her bed as the kwamii let out a giggle.

“He’s got a unique personality, very straightforward Marinette. He almost reminds me of Chloe when I first met her.”

“That has to be it. PTSD from when I was 13 and Chloe was still a menace. I just don’t think I’m going to be able to get back into this design tonight.”

“That’s okay Marinette, let’s work on the last essay for your Grad school application!”

Marinette sat up to reach for her laptop, pulling up her browser that never closed. The Metropolis University website was still up, her application reading 95% complete. She clicked on the textbox and attempted to zoom in on the final question that had been bugging her for a week now.

‘How will you use your education to benefit the world?’

“Why does my degree have to benefit the world Tikki? I just want to do something I love, can’t that just be enough?”

“You’ll think of something Marinette, you always do!”

“Yeah,” the girl huffed out a puff of air, leaning forward to reread the question for the hundredth time. “I always do.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Around 10:30, Chloe stumbled into their room, tearing through her closest.

“Marinette, come clubbing with me and Adrikins! He needs a distraction for the night or two if you know what I mean.”

She let out a giggle as she pulled out her favorite dress, not even bothering to shut the bedroom door before throwing off her top.

“Chloe! We’re living with another guy now!”

“Yeah yeah Mari, you’re the only straight one here so there’s no problem!”

“Just because you’re not straight, doesn’t mean he can’t oogle at you.”

Chloe stood up, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the girl.

“Oogle? How old are you? 75?”

Marinette rolled her eyes as she stood up to pull her dress over her head. With her help, Chloe finished touching up her makeup.

“So you gonna come with us?”

Marinette shook her head at her, earning a pout from the blonde.

“Boo, you and Damian are both lame.”

Picking up her clutch, she opened it long enough for Pollen to fly in before shutting it tight.

“You losers have fun tonight staying home.”

“I think I’ll just barricade myself in here instead.”

“Whatever.”

Adrien appeared in their doorway, equally tipsy as he offered Chloe his hand. Marinette watched with worry as they made their way to the front door, both stumbling over their feet at every other step.

“Are you guys taking an Uber at least?”

“Yes mom!” They both looked at each other in shock before dissolving in a fit of laughter. Marinette rolled her eyes, waving goodbye as they slammed the front door shut.

With a sigh, she made her way to the microwave, hitting the reheat button for her pasta inside.

“Is that an every weekend occurrence?”

Marinette jumped, whipping around to find Damian leaning against the kitchen counter, his face expressionless.

“How about next time a warning like ‘Hey Marinette’ or ‘Whatcha doing?”

He didn’t reply, just remained stoic as he waited for her answer.

“No, it's not, just an occurrence whenever Adrien gets his heart broken. So try a monthly thing.”

He nodded in response, watching her carefully. Marinette shifted under his gaze, trying to keep her cool and not melt into a puddle. He may be a jerk, but he was still a hot jerk. The ding of the microwave severed the tension between them as she opened the drawer beside her, pulling out a fork. Sliding out her pasta, she didn’t even check to see if it had heated all the way through before she rushed past Damian and back to the safety of her room.

He didn’t follow, but she heard him let out a thoughtful hum before he made his way back to his room, shutting his door. Letting out a sigh, she stirred through her pasta, reaching for the pen beside her bed.

“How’d your interview go?”

She was halfway through her pasta when she felt the tingling.

“Aced it. How was your day Angel? I apologize for not writing sooner.”

She rolled her eyes at his formalness, trying not to let her smile get the best of her.

“I finally got my break. I’ll be getting a sponsor!”

Finishing the last bite of her pasta, Marinette weighed the risk of running into Damian again if she went to put up her dishes. Deciding it was too great, she set the plate on her nightstand, mentally preparing herself for the backlash she would get from hungover Chloe in the morning.

“That’s fantastic, I hope it works in your favor habibti.”

A shiver ran down her spin as her cheeks flushed red. She had used google translate a few times of the names he gave her and was surprised to find the Arabic traces. When she asked him about it, he just brushed it off to being from his mother’s side, never bringing it up again. Picking up her pen, she etched a small Robin on her arm, leaving a space beside it to write;

“Your pictures always inspire my designs. I can’t wait to see what you leave me tomorrow.”

A minute hadn’t even passed before he responded.

“If you wash your arm off now, you won’t have to wait.”

Her heart picked up pace as she rushed into the bathroom, scrubbing furiously at her arm. She returned to her bed, toweling off the few wet spots as she watched in awe as pen strokes tickled her skin.

“He’s so talented Marinette!”

Marinette smiled as she watched his delicate art slowly cover her arm, her mind drifting from the stress of the day.

“He really is Tikki, he really is.”

Tag List:

@damianette-is-life @ladybug-182 @fusser90 @thestressmademedoit @dast218 @thezestywalru @jardimazul @olynix @dorkus-minimus @xahriia @kris-pines04 @urbanpineapplefarmer @moonlightstar64 @itsmeevie01 @little-lady-bird @alexandriamw @lozzybowe @emmdaenovice @loysydark @toodaloo-kangaroo @jessigurl-design @aegyobutpsycho2 @stark-morgoona @kris-pines04 @rebecarojas07

#daminette #maribat #roommates

555 notes · View notes

clearsky · 4 years ago

Text

My Top Comfort Characters/Kins and My Main HCs For Them

(Note, not all my kins/comfort characters are on here, just the ones I have more than 5 hcs for)

CW: Korekiyo Shinguji (DRV3), Himiko Yumeno (DRV3), Shinsou Hitoshi (BNHA), Kyoko Kirigiri (THH), Tsuyu Asui (BNHA), Entrapta (Spop), Ibuki Mioda (SDR2), Celestia Ludenberg (THH), Funtime Foxy (FNAF), Peril (WOF)

Korekiyo Shinguji (DRV3)

Nonbinary

He/They pronouns

Autistic

Chains and loose accessories are for stimming

Likes the feeling of silk and cotton

Can't stand the feeling of anything rough or bumpy

He likes collecting small trinkets and the bones of small mammals

Can't stand anything salty. He'll eat it but he certainly won't enjoy it

Dating Rantaro

Can flirt, but only if he doesn't try

Petnames are a hell yea

Gets sunburnt really easily

Group dates with Celesnaegiri and Ikuzono

Can't cook for s h i t

Had a scene kid phase in middle school

Went to the same middle school as Celeste and Maki

Knew them when Celeste went through her "I'm not like other girls" phase and Maki was a Band Kid™

Himiko Yumeno (DRV3)

Female

She/Her pronouns

Lesbian

Can force herself to fall asleep within seconds regardless of where she is

100% forces herself to fall asleep when she doesn't wanna listen/talk to someone

Himiko/Angie/Tenko relationship. I'm calling them the Traffic Light Trio

She likes taking naps in the forest

She prefers enclosed/tight spaces more than open ones

Has several hundred stress balls and squishies laying around

She overheats easy

Shinsou Hitoshi (BNHA)

Questioning his gender, but goes by any pronouns

Knows he's Asexual, at least

Has no clue what his romantic orientation is though

The kind of person to carry treats in his pocket just in case he runs into a cat

Will stop to pet literally every cat he comes across

Great at reading people

Doesn't talk unless it's 100% needed

Hangs with Tokoyami, Jirou, and Denki most often

Aizawa has 100% unofficially adopted him

Fosters kittens

Not a big fan of physical touch

He is 100% in the bakusquad. Anyone who says he's in the Dekusquad is a c o w a r d

He and Tsuyu vibe

Knows a bunch of random facts

Dark humour? Dark humour

*skates backwards into his therapist's room slowly sipping from an absurdly huge cup of coffee* Candice you're not gonna BELIEVE the shit I just went through

In case I forgot to mention it, he skates

Kyoko Kirigiri (THH)

Mtf

She/Her

Bi with female preference

Burns go up to her shoulders/collarbone/chest

Prefers to just listen as opposed to saying anything

Knows a ton of random trivia about everyone else in her class

She keeps a notebook she fills with all the trivia

Doesn't celebrate her birthday. She just doesn't see the point of it

Doesn't hate sugar/sweets, but if given the choice she would choose literally everything else

Cuts her own hair

A cat person

Permanent dark circles

T-Tall 😳

Like,,, 6'1 at LEAST

Only person taller than her is Yasuhiro (6'3)

Canon no longer exist

Ahahaha healthy life habits? What are those?

Can't handle horror games

She's the kind of person you'd go to if you needed to rant but didn't want any advice

Polyamourous yo

Celeste/Kyoko/Makoto

She's a dom yall are just scared to admit it

Tsuyu Asui (BNHA)

They go by They/Them

Lesbian

They and Ochaco are dating

They like to hang with Shinsou

Which mainly just means the two sitting in one of their dorms in near total silence doing whatever

Can speak English and French as well as Japanese

Learned English from cartoons

Picked up French bc they thought it'd be fun

Prefers to stay neutral in the whole Bakusquad / Dekusquad thing

They're invited to all outings/events by/for both squads

They like puns

They're a dumbass but willingly, and for fun

Like "someone says they like dark humour and they'll turn off the lights before telling a joke" kind dumbass for fun

Great at poker

Likes Disney Movies

Very touchy once you get close enough

Not in a sexual way, just likes physical contact

Especially fond of piggyback rides and cuddles

Extreme fear of needles

Entrapta (She-Ra)

She/Her or It/Its

Doesn't bother trying to figure out whether she's cis, trans, nonbinary, or what

Was AMAB though

Short as fuck (4'7)

Strong as fuck though

Cuddle game strong

Physical touch is a fuck yes

Cuddles

Piggyback rides

Hugs

Anything where she's touching someone is wonderful in her book

As long as she's the one that initiates it

Anyone else touching her without her permission makes her freak

Prefers being high up

Makes it harder for anyone to sneak up on her

An ace at video games

When it comes to sexuality she just says she's Questioning

Ibuki Mioda (SDR2)

Any pronouns + Pup/Pupself + It/Its

No idea what their gender is otherwise

Biromantic Asexual

Just likes sexual jokes

Gets distracted easily

Has severe hearing problems

She's plays her instruments as loud as possible, with the amp right next to her, without ANY ear protection

It's caused some damage

She talks so loud bc she has no idea how loud is considered acceptable

Wears hearings aids most of the time

Several piercings and tattoos

Likes hearing things jingle

She has a bracelet with a few bells hanging from it

She'll shake it whenever she's bored

LOVES hair accessories

Ribbons are a particular favourite

Occasionally she'll hang little charms from her hair "horns"

The kind of person who never takes any pills/medicine bc she keeps forgetting she has to

Frequently uses emojis

Skates everywhere but she isn't very good at it

She keeps crashing into everything

Has broken every bone in her body at least 3 times

Most of which was bc she keeps trying to kick in doors and skating down the stairs

Celestia Ludenberg (THH)

Nonbinary

Any pronouns, mainly goes by She/They

Bi, 70:30

Collects mini hand sanitizers and can tabs

Has single handedly gotten Mario Kart, Mario Party, Monopoly, Uno, and Clue banned a grand total of 17 times (and counting)

The kind of person to purposefully target someone regardless of what game was being played

Favourite victim is Byakuya (bc he gets so upset about it and she finds that hilarious)

Mains Waluigi

Celeste/Kyoko/Makoto

Has several banned Twitter accounts bc whenever she's bored she'll start discourse on purpose

Hangs with Korekiyo, Ibuki, Byakuya, Yasuhiro, and Leon most often

It's a weird friend group but everyone's sorta gotten used to it

She and Byakuya gamble together occasionally

She tries to avoid it bc he'll willingly blow his entire fortune in an attempt to beat her

Autustic

Can't stand the feeling of water

Mainly bc she can't swim for shit

Horror movies? Hates them

Gets flustered super easily

Taka is her twin brother

Kotoko, Kokichi, and Gundham are their half siblings (Same father)

Peko and Toko are their cousins

She sucks ass at go fish

Fuck canon she's 4'11 now

C h u b b y

Freckles

Once she gets comfortable enough with herself she dyes her hair in the peekaboo style

Either black and red or black and blonde

Haven't decided yet

I'll be doing Celesnaegiri hcs as a seperate post but I just feel it's important for you to know that she expresses her affection verbally and is a very touchy person

Went to middle school with Maki and Korekiyo

Has horrible eyesight

She wears contacts most of the time but she always puts off buying more

After the 5th or so time she ended up blindly stumbling around a week after her contacts ran out Kyoko convinced her to buy glasses as well

Religious accessories yo

Like chokers and dangly earrings with crosses and pentagrams and shit

Likes wearing wacky earrings

Can run and do all sorts of tricks in heels

She and Mukuro are exes yo

Keeps her hair short so it's easier to manage

Hair never gets longer than her shoulders if she can help it

She seems like the kind of person who'd keep her bangs grown past her eyes regardless of how frustrating or inconvenient it is

She's a sub yall just don't wanna admit it

Funtime Foxy (FNAF)

I'm going on the record to say this

Funtime Foxy is genderfluid and that is that

Goes by Funtime

Any pronouns, They/Them most commonly

Plays music (keyboard and guitar mainly)

They and Funtime Freddy (Freds) mainly play with the kids

Freds mainly tells stories with Bonbon while Funtime more so plays one-on-one

Has nicknames for everyone

Circus Baby - Ringleader

Ballora - Bells

Funtime Freddy - Partner

Bon Bon - Bun

Peril (WOF)

I like both Nonbinary She/They Peril and Mtf She/Her Peril

They're both such good concepts

She's a lesbian, Harold

She only had a crush on Clay bc he was pretty much everything she was supposed to like in a guy

Gimme a moment while I force all my mental disorders onto this poor child

Autistic, Anxiety (Social anxiety, mainly, but she has most types), Adhd, PTSD

I'd like to reiterate yet again that She's a lesbian

Sunny and Glory were her gay awakening

Peril in Book 1: Damn, Sunny and Glory sure are pretty. Anyone would be lucky to date them. Clay would probably go for them over me. He would be stupid if he didn't. I myself would willingly date them over someone like me. They're just so pretty :(

Peril waking up in a cold sweat in the middle of arc 2: WAIT-

Rarepair alert but Peril/Sora

Peril meeting Sora: "Hmmm She's attractive. I would love to date her. Too bad I'm straight and in love with her brother lmao :P"

Peril, a mere month later, waiting for Ruby to leave Jade Mountain, pacing in her cave, running face first into a wall: WAIT-

I remember reading this one amazing story where Sora taught Peril to read/write and Peril found out she set off the bomb and comforted her/convinced her her run so that's canon now

Btw if anyone can remember what that story was called/what platform it was on and could tell me I'd appreciate it very much

I'd even be willing to draw a character of your's or make you an icon or something

I usually don't accept requests bc I get burnt out easy but this is a special case

She runs into Sora again sometime between the beginning of TOP and the end

I like to imagine she just goes wandering around

Anyway she confesses like a mere few minutes after running into her again bc Peril is just subtle like that

The actual confession takes 15 minutes and the entire time Sora is just sitting here like "👁👄👁 sure"

Bam Peril/Sora

Peril plans to keep it a secret for a little while longer but she spends 3 seconds around Clay and pretty much blurts it out

Clay, who wasn't even aware that Peril was a lesbian, is just "👁👄👁"

I wanna say Clay doesn't know what a lesbian is but in my canon Sunny is a lesbian so Starflight has already told him

Anyway he's super supportive

From that point Peril is sorta open about her sexuality?

Like, she gives Clay permission to tell the rest of the D.O.D bc she isn't about to risk being in front of them when they hear the news

(When Sunny starts actively seeking her out as a hang out buddy and Tsunami, Glory, and Starflight appear to tolerate her presence just a bit more afterwards she pretends she isn't confused by the change)

She's pink, white, and blue bc I said so

If you look at a certain angle in the right lighting her eyes, mouth, fire, and under her scales all look purple

But her fire is normally white and blue bc I said so

Also she pale as fuck bc in my canon their fire just sorta burns their colour away

You know how you leave something outside for too long and it gets sunbleached? Where it gets all washed out?

Like that but more extreme

By the age of 10-12 firescale dragons are just white with pale eyes

That's right not even the eyes are safe

Ram horns :P

I'm also fond of Peril/Sunny

Or maybe Peril/Sora/Sunny

But Peril/Sora is the main thing

On the topic of that bringing in my hc that if one sib in a sib group is fire resistant all of them are

She,,, She can change her scale colour

But only slightly and only if her emotions are strong enough

Bc I don't give a fuck about Darkstalker's scroll we were robbed of hybrid Peril

Unfortunately all of Peril's emotions are strong

Rainwing ruff along her head and neck

It's like a hood

It's mainly smoothed to her sides but when she's startled it flares out

RAINWING PUPILS

Y'all will know what those look like as soon as I get off my ass :P

She,,, She can mimic bird cries

Hates the summer

She has more than enough body heat already and the outside is just hot enough to add on and make her feel sick

She can somewhat control her heat but most of the time it's based on her emotions

It can go from standing-in-the-middle-of-a-burning-building-cant-see-your-nose-smoke-is-so-thick heat (Strong emotion) to Hey-thats-a-nice-cozy-campfire heat (Calm/"weak" emotion/Sleeping)

I'm just gonna make a different post with all my Peril hcs cuz there isnt enough room for all of them here

27 notes · View notes

ladycatofwinterfell · 4 years ago

Note

I interpreted that Catelyn scene as if Jon didn't exist, her family would not have faced tragedy. Yes, she was blaming herself for not loving Jon but she was also indirectly blaming Jon for even existing. I also hated the part where she said her love with Ned was better than a passionate love affair in the words. As if being married off with a bridal price, passed from father to husband like an object is better than genuinely falling in love. I never liked Catelyn and it's not because she has strong opinions or because she started the war or whatever bs people hate her for I just think she's kinda...in her own head?? She lacks perspective tbh like she can't put herself in other people's shoes. Like when she tells Renly and Stannis: just get over it your brothers, I cringed because they obviously do not care about their relationship and only care about being king. They were raised differently than you Cat! I get that she's a victim of the patriarchy and she is coping so I really try to give her the benefit of the doubt but idk maybe I'm not mature enough for that. When characters like Brienne and Sansa exist, it makes Catelyn look bad (that scene in the books when Cat asks Edmure why are all the peasants here is yikes!). That being said, the fact that she has flaws makes her compelling. Also don't get me wrong, I do not think she is an awful person and I DO NOT blame her for ignoring Jon, that's all on Ned. Sometimes I think I dislike her because I kinda see myself in her. I have tried so hard to like her because her haters suck but I just can't.

It’s completely fine, anon, you don’t have to like Cat. As long as you don’t act like an ass about it you can dislike any character you want, I don’t judge you. Sometimes one simply doesn’t vibe with certain characters for different reasons. I don’t necessarily agree with you but I like that you explain your reasons instead of just going “catelyn sucks because she’s mean” as I have seen a lot people do. Also, I genuinely really like this ask as it made me think a lot, so thank you, anon.

The rest will be under the cut because I got carried away with my answer and it got a lot longer than I had initially planned

And now, before I start explaining my view on this, I want to say that I’m no expert at analyzing media or anything else. I’m a fan of the asoiaf books, and I have watched got, that’s it. These are just my views on Cat and the parts that were mentioned in this ask. If anyone disagrees or would like to come with a different perspective, feel free to do so, seeing different views on a topic is good for everyone.

I’m going to assume you mean the motherless child scene, and from that I didn’t get the feeling that she blamed Jon as she not once mentioned him negatively in that scene. He was just a poor innocent child. She repeatedly said that she herself was a terrible person though, which conveys the message that she blamed no one but herself for how the situation turned out and found herself responsible for it. In other scenes we see her acting cold towards Jon, but in this particular scene she doesn’t seem to be angry at him at all, she’s only angry with herself. This in turn makes it seem like she actually is to blame and that she should have loved him, which is wrong. She had no responsibility to take care of her husband’s illegitimate love child. Though in show canon I thought of it as her trying to find a reason for why everything that did happen happened, because she had a hard time making sense of it. She looked back at things she had done that could have been considered wrongdoings and wondered if maybe she could have prevented the deaths of her husband and (as far as she knew) children.

You also mentioned the stone by stone scene. I rewatched it now, and I can sort of see what you mean as she can be interpreted as a bit judgmental in that scene. However, her intention wasn’t to tell Robb about how her love was a supreme love, it was to try to get him to understand that an arranged marriage could turn out good. He had to marry a Frey because that was arranged for him and bad things could happen to him and his cause if he didn’t, so she tried to make him believe in that a marriage to a Frey girl he didn’t know could be a good marriage. This by explaining that her arranged marriage was good. Fine, she didn’t immediately fall in love with her husband, but she slowly came to love him over the years and that could be the cause in Robb’s marriage as well.

What we also need to remember in regards to that scene is that that’s the way marriage works in Westeros. If you’re highborn you don’t marry for love, you have a marriage arranged for you for the sake of forming an alliance between two families. That’s not better than genuinely falling in love, but that’s the way it works. In this case it’s even more important since Frey is so prickly and might pull the rug from under Robb’s feet if he feels insulted. And Cat wants her son to see that, wants him to understand that it is dangerous to break a that important alliance. She tries to get him on a safer path than the one he’s going down. But she also wants him to know that he can be happy in an arranged marriage. She tells him about her and Ned to explain that it is possible for him to learn to love his bride, so that he might reconsider his choice.

Now to a quick one. I agree, Cat didn’t start the war. She took Tyrion hostage because based on the info she had he had tried to murder her son. Tywin “war criminal” Lannister started the war by sending men to pillage and destroy the Riverlands

On the next one I’m actually inclined to agree. Catelyn is a bit in her own head. On top of that she’s very stubborn, which makes it more apparent. She tends not to see things from other perspectives than her own, that is definitely one of her flaws. It doesn’t make her a bad person, but it is a flaw, and I can see why some people would have a hard time with that particular flaw. Though she’s not always in her own head, several times we are shown that she has a nose for politics and is actually quite good at understanding other people and their wants. She has perspective on several situations, and can change her mind if things changes or doesn’t turn out as planned.

When it comes to the conflict between Renly and Stannis I really get her frustration. Yes, she had trouble understanding their conflict and found it ridiculous as she was raised and lived by the words “Family, Duty, Honor” and the mindset that family always comes first no matter what. But at that point I think most people would share her thoughts, as she was in a situation where she had started to become desperate. She wanted them to stop fighting each other and understand that they needed to fight together against the Lannisters, who were everyone’s common enemy. This with good reason, they killed her husband and as far as she knew still had both her daughters. Of course she wanted them to stop their feud and unite for the cause of defeating the Lannisters.

I’m going to agree on the next one as well. Cat lives in a patriarchal, classist society and buys into that because that’s all she knows, no one can deny that she has a classist and patriarchal mindset. That’s what she was raised by, that was what she was taught. Cat is in many senses the perfect lady by Westerosi standards. But despite believing in the patriarchal society she’s also at times thoroughly frustrated by it, as we see when she starts losing her influence as an advisor after Ned dies. It’s an interesting internal conflict, and as you said, she’s coping. You mentioned Brienne and Sansa as examples of characters that make Cat look bad in this sense. I don’t agree with that, I think these three characters cope with the patriarchal society in different ways although Brienne has a much more sympathetic way to do so in the eyes of modern readers. Cat definitely isn’t innocent of having spread those views, as she tries to make sure her children live by them, but she’s also not the devil here.

But yes, although she doesn’t call them peasants, that scene doesn’t look great. I won’t deny that either, because it’s true. All the highborn characters, yes even your fave no matter who that is, are classist. And that’s not me trying to defend Cat, that’s just the truth.

As for your ending, yes, her flaws makes her a very compelling character. It’s what makes her interesting, perfect characters are painstakingly boring. She’s not an awful person, and she’s not to blame for the situation with Jon. That one’s definitely on Ned.

You’re also right in that her haters very often suck.

Thanks for your ask, this was very interesting and I hope to see you in my inbox again in the future!

#catelyn stark #catelyn tully #this makes me really curious about if you follow me despite that my blog is 95% cat or if you don’t follow me #and just wanted to pop in to send me this #either way id like to thank you for not being rude to me for our differences as I have noticed rudeness is common in this fandom #and for that I got to have very interesting conversations with several of my mutuals about this #I also love the ‘her haters suck’#not even people who dislike cat likes her antis

9 notes · View notes

sevenincubistolemyheart · 4 years ago

Text

Yoongi’s Oneshot

Au: Mafia

Tag List: @xsunnyhoseokx @wilhelminalucinda @amiraclerenee @inutiledediscuter

Rating: M

Potential Triggers: I will carefully note the rating has once again turned to M but I’ll be leaving this as the only warning(unless otherwise explicitly asked) given the heavy spoilers saying all the potential triggers could provide. The only explicit triggers I’ll give in advance is involuntary drugging, grieving, and psychological trauma. Everything will also be under the cut. Authors Note at the end!!

Pairing: BTS x Reader/OT7 x reader

Genre: Drama, Crime, Angst, Fluff, Hurt & Comfort

Length: 4k+

You murmured softly in your sleep, tossing and turning as you gradually grew more and more panicked. It’s a miracle you hadn’t had any night terrors after what happened. Your imagination was always quite vivid after all so you supposed you should count your blessings you’d even lasted this long. In either case, all you could see when your eyes finally shot open was white. At first you assumed you were merely adjusting to a bright light...but then it didn’t stop. Including when you moved. And a look down let you know that you were also in the silk white pajamas Yoongi had gifted you last night. All that surrounded you was pure white and you realized abruptly you clearly weren’t dreaming any longer and also had been sleeping on the floor. A quick search of the room ensued, as your eyes flicked around, searching for distinct cameras or a way out and yet...you found nothing. You refused to let yourself panic, putting together that Yoongi must have gifted you these so you’d match with the room.

You weren’t in enemy captivity, but that didn’t mean you weren’t on edge. Taehyung’s little stunt had reminded you that these people, though often kind to you, had much more sadistic sides to themselves than you typically got to see. You vaguely recalled looking up sensory deprivation as a potential topic for a psychology project, but opted to study dream analysis instead. Lot of good that was gonna do you. You didn’t need any symbolism to know you were merely coping with your grief in your sleep since you still refused to actively show it around the others but now...that info on sensory deprivation sure would’ve been helpful. You tried to wrack your brain for any memories of what you’d looked up, but only vaguely recalled the need to keep your mind active, though you couldn’t fully remember how. Wasn’t that only for long periods of time?

Where was Yoongi? Why was he putting you through this? You felt your breathing starting to increase, noticed you were beginning to grow paranoid and took several deep breaths, counting to 4 as you inhaled, holding for 8 and then releasing for another 4. It was a breathing technique you recalled your chorus teacher telling you to do back in high school. How was she doing?

Your breathing finally evened out but you found your eyes were glazed over. You shook off your little stupor, tried to get back on topic. Why were you thinking about your chorus teacher right now? You had more important things to be pondering! Like what Yoongi wanted to see from you so he’d let you out.

You began to hum absentmindedly. Closing your eyes as you welcomed the now unfamiliar blackness. You aren’t sure for how long they remained so but when next they opened you felt like it was now nighttime. How long had Yoongi left you here for? Was this some kind of punishment? Did you do something wrong? Nothing came to mind. Maybe they just finally realized you were a liability. That you’d never be as good a Nurse as your Mother.

It was then that you saw the door opening inwards and after spotting Yoongi, and blinking several times to adjust to the new colors, you literally rushed him, making him scramble to release the door and hold onto you as you shook violently for reasons you didn’t understand. Tears came spilling from your eyes faster than you could stop them and you barely managed to ask him through your sobs.

“W-Why did you leave me there for so long!? Did I do something wrong? Please, just tell me and I’ll fix it!! N-Never do that again!”

Yoongi looked taken aback as he forced you off him far enough away to get a good look at you and his expression morphed from one of bewilderment and shock to analysis. He knelt down, cupping your hands in his cheeks as he saw you frantically looking around at everything, as though scared you’d never see it again. You were acting like some kind of crack addict going through withdrawals. The sound of footsteps made you whip your head around but he refused to let you look, resolutely keeping your head still.

“Focus on me and stop moving. How long do you think you were in there?”

His voice was a quiet mumble.

“18 hours, at the least. Maybe even 24. It’s nighttime now isn’t it? Please I want to go see everyone!”

“Y/N. You were only in there for 8 hours. You shouldn’t be experiencing this so intensely. You didn’t hear or see anything else in there did you? I need you to be completely honest with me.”

You shook your head quickly, even as you bounced on your heels.

“Mm-mm! No, I-”

Before you could even finish your denial he was starting to pull up the short sleeves of your pajamas up past your shoulders and then snarling at you.

“What the fuck did you do to yourself you idiot!?”

You looked at him in genuine confusion and he growled lowly before brushing his thumb over your bicep causing you to hiss at the sharp rush of pain that greeted you.

“Ow, Yoongi what the Hell!?”

You looked down and realized you'd dug your nails into your arms, holding yourself during that brief, fitful sleep you'd had so tightly you'd drawn blood and caused wounds. On top of that you'd apparently continued scratching once you'd awoken, irritating the wounds even further.

"Wow that's all it took to break her? Pathetic."

Jungkook's snort made you squirm in Yoongi's grasp to look at him and this time, he let you as he was occupied examining your wounds.

Yoongi released you with a simple nod to Jungkook before walking off.

"Watch her."

Once you were out of his grip you hopped over to the built boy, clinging to his arm even as he jolted in surprise that quickly turned to disgust even as a surprised blush stained his cheeks pink.

"Th-The Hell!? Get off me you freak!"

He began slowly working you off his body but you pouted and resolutely stayed on him like glue.

"Nuh-uh!! Never thought I'd miss you being an ass but here we are! Suck it up!"

You were so focused on trying to stay attached to Jungkook you didn't hear the footsteps this time and squealed as you were tugged off by Yoongi and into his chest face first who sighed.

"...Calm down. You're not going back in ever again. I promise. You're gonna be okay. Focus on my heartbeat and count the beats okay? Try to match your breathing to it."

"The fuck did you do to make her all clingy and weird? You better fix her! If she's fucked in the head for when I train her-"

"Quiet down. If you don't want to overwhelm her and make things worse I'd suggest keeping your mouth shut."

Just the two bickering was making you start to get squirmy again and Yoongi tightened his grip slightly in response while Jungkook snapped his mouth shut. Your shaking gradually started to subside to the occasional shiver as you did as Yoongi instructed, slowly being soothed by his consistent heart rate. Your breathing also started to even out, and you found yourself surprised at how slow his heartbeat was.

He had seemed so panicked but moments earlier after all. He must have real control.

Noticing you slightly beginning to calm, Yoongi gradually released his grip on you to look you in the eyes.

“...Alright. Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to take you over to the infirmary where I’ll hand you off to Hoseok. You won’t be seeing anyone but 2 people at once for at least today and tomorrow. I’m not risking damaging your psyche further by overstimulating you right after depriving you.”

His voice was as monotone as ever but you felt the way his hand trembled slightly as he grabbed your wrist before he abruptly released you, tersely demanding you follow him instead.

You did so, albeit slowly as you risked a glance around the room for Jungkook, only mildly surprised when you found he’d slipped out silently.

You were more surprised he’d left quietly more than the fact that he’d abandoned you in such a state. He’d probably gone to tell Taehyung what awful shape you were in so they could laugh about how weak you were.

Wonderful.

You almost wished your lucidity wasn’t returning.

Gods, the way you’d clung to him like a child was so embarrassing. You could only pray given his, what you remembered to be, flustered reaction that he’d never mention it again. At least Yoongi mercifully didn’t seem focused on your display though it was mainly because he was probably more distressed by the reaction from a psychological perspective than anything as kind.

Yoongi opened the door to the infirmary for you and let you enter first before following suit. You spotted Hoseok at the large desk overlooking a window to the greenery you’d been lost in not too long ago with Taehyung, sorting different bags of powder. He looked up at your arrival and frowned as he scanned you up and down before his eyes locked on your injured shoulders and then jumped to Yoongi as he rose to his feet and made his way over.

“The Hell did you do? I thought she was only going in the sensory deprivation room for 8 hours, how did she manage to hurt herself?”

Yoongi sighed heavily, watching as you hugged Hoseok who recipricorated gently before he led you over to the infirmary bed nearest to you and setting you down gently.

“She used her nails; it happened when she was sleeping apparently. I watched the whole time, but when she started sleeping I left to eat...I should’ve picked up on the signs and never put her in this situation. I thought it would be a gentle enough way to start building her mental tolerance to torture should the others ever try such a thing. You know EXO’s policy about women.”

Hoseok grunted in acknowledgment of his words as he pulled over the metal cart with basic medical supplies he hadn't gotten around to fully cleaning since his own training session two days ago.

“Blaming yourself isn’t going to make her better so knock off the self loathing bullshit going on in your head right now and get me a wet rag and a bucket with soap and water. I need to clean the wounds before they become infected. You may have caused this situation but you can also fix it so move your ass.”

His voice was crisp, cool and nothing like his typically cheerful self making you blink at him in delirious confusion, your alertness seemed to be fading in and out, despite your best efforts to hang onto it. Everything just seemed so overwhelming, and almost new to you.

Yoongi listened without quarrel however and nodded before he left the room, to do what Hoseok had ordered you had to guess.

“Alright lovey I need you to keep your eyes on mine okay? I know it’s hard to focus right now but I want to check some things.”

His voice had changed tones again, now sweet and gentle as you knew him. You liked this version better, you decided as your eyes flicked up to meet his.

His smile widened a bit, making his eyes crinkle at the corners in amusement.

“I happen to prefer this side to me too. Unfortunately, I don’t get the chance to let it out very often in my line of work. It’s nice for it to be genuine for once. Now; I want you to talk to me about the day you found out your Mother died. Do you think you can do that for me sweetie?”

You frowned and blearily shook your head in denial, not registering the fact that he was rubbing a wet cloth on the inside of your arm about a third of the way up, nor the fact that the area went numb and tingly. Your whole body felt numb and tingly honestly; what was one more area?

“I don’t wanna talk about that.”

Your voice had grown small, intrusive images already making themselves known inside your mind as your frown deepened, and his smile only widened. Thanks to your gaze being locked on his you noticed when his eyes flicked to the door suddenly, making you look too in anticipation, expecting Yoongi to perhaps be entering or for someone to be there only to not notice the needle entering your arm on the other side.

You turned back to him with a pout of confusion but swayed suddenly as the world spun. You would’ve surely fallen had you not been lying down securely in the bed. Why did you feel like you were floating? Was this normal? A part of the side effects of your brief time in the sensory deprivation chamber?

“How are you feeling now? Ready to tell me about that night?”

You beamed, suddenly so exhilarated despite the world spinning that you felt giddy; your mind barely comprehending the words Hoseok hit you with or their meaning, just starting to speak without conscious awareness.

“Mmhmm sure! So, it’s pretty funny actually! I was just coming home from grocery shopping, and I stopped at the craft store before heading home to get Mom some of those adult coloring books since I could tell how anxious she was lately. We used to love doing that together you know? And!”

You giggled, grinning even at the painful nature of your story. If only it was just a story.

“She’d promised me we’d spend the whole day together since she was away all the time; now I know she was tending to you. Instead of being home with me, her y’know actual daughter.”

You giggled again, clearly delirious.

“So I finally got home, and when I walked inside I saw her just...bleeding everywhere. She was already dead, or so Namjoon told me later. He’d sent some grunts or something so as soon as I walked in I was being dragged out and to a car before I could even protest. None of you could even bear to clean up the mess you made! You must all be cowards of epic proportions. I mean seriously! You left her body to your grunts? After all she did for you? Real pathetic; lemme tell ya.”

You shrugged with a beaming smile, feeling a large wave threatening to drag you under as your blinks began to slow.

“At least she’s not anxious anymore though right?”

Hoseok listened to your story with that kind smile of his never once leaving, nodding in agreement to everything you said so you wouldn’t stop and pet your hair until blissful unconsciousness finally took you and you lost the war to stay conscious with a question of Yoongi’s disappearance being the last words to escape your lips.

Hoseok’s smile dropped and he turned towards the closet cooly, perceptive gaze narrowing.

“...You can come out now.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes as he stepped out.

“You coddle her too much. You should’ve just given her an interrogation drug instead of a gentle dose like that. We would’ve gotten the information quicker.”

Hoseok chuckled as he shrugged, uncaring as he took in Taehyung with detached indifference.

“I got the information didn’t I? And she won’t remember any of this. All the better for our plan. How’s Jungkook? Still distracting Yoongi?”

Taehyung nodded.

“Has him held hostage in the kitchen. It’s not like it takes much effort to play the brat on his part.”

Hoseok nodded, risking a glance at your slumbering form and Taehyung did the same.

There was a beat of silence and then.

“...We’re doing the right thing, aren’t we?”

“We’re doing the only thing we can. And that’s enough.”

Taehyung suddenly flung himself back into the closet with a vengeance and silently rushed to close the door as he heard the infirmary door just beyond the wall burst open; barely managing it in time as Hoseok concealed the needle in his pocket and feigned confused annoyance at Yoongi’s abrupt entrance.

“Hyung! Quiet down or you’ll wake her! She just finally fell asleep. What the Hell took you so long?!”

Yoongi panted as he glanced around the room suspiciously and Hoseok briefly caught Jungkook’s vaguely concerned gaze behind him making Hoseok shoot him a dark look. All he’d had to do was give them the heads up he was returning! It could’ve been a single letter! But now there hadn’t been any time and-

“What’s this?”

Yoongi’s voice was quiet, but Hoseok could recognize that deadly tone anywhere.

His attention quickly shifted to see what he was referring to and his heart dropped although his annoyed expression remained unchanged.

Fuck.

The vial he’d used to extract the drug sat in between Yoongi’s fingers and he cursed himself for forgetting such a detail.

“Did you inject her with this?”

Yoongi’s eyes were like icy knives, cutting him to the quick and daring him to lie. He needed to play his cards right here or things could go very badly very quickly. Sure, the most secret documents were in his room but the ones in here would be enough to get him at least under suspicion and he just couldn’t have that right now. Not when they were so close.

Yoongi was growing impatient, his eyes narrowing all the more to fine, catlike slits as he strode forward to hiss into Hoseok’s face.

“Have you gone deaf? I said, ``Did you inject her with this?!”

“I did. I had to. She grew violent and-”

Yoongi grabbed him by the collar and Jungkook entered the room in panic but Hoseok waved his hand quickly to shoo him away, knowing better than to move his eyes when Yoongi was watching him so closely. One wrong move when Yoongi was in analysis mode and he’d blow all of their covers.

“Don’t fuck with me Jung. She was acting delirious to an extent yes, showing signs of a need for intense affection and physical contact as by isolating her I accidentally triggered her psyche to momentarily put down her walls and ask for the touch she needs since she’s been touch starved for God knows how many years. But she was anything but violent. Try again. And this time if you don’t tell me what I want to hear, I’ll just have to bring this to Namjoon.”

The dark smirk was on his lips before he could stop it, but he used it to his advantage.

“Like you aren’t going to anyway? You always were his favorite lapdog. Well…”

A smirk more snarl than smile twisted his expression to something even more ugly.

“Besides Seokjin that is.”

Yoongi looked stricken just as he’d intended and then he found himself collapsing from the impact of Yoongi’s fist on his cheek, followed swiftly by a kick to his stomach that made him cough as he curled up slightly even as a pained laugh escaped his lips.

“Oh? Did I hit a nerve-”

He was cut off with a kick, to the head this time that had him seeing stars.

“Good thing you’re not the only one with a taste for hitting them eh? Maybe now you can feel how she did when you injected her with that crap.”

Hoseok dazedly realized he was being turned so his front was open to Yoongi and found himself straddled and then punch after punch was being delivered as Yoongi snarled venomously down at him.

“You are going to tell me exactly why you injected her and then we’re both going to tell Namjoon what you-”

Now it was Yoongi’s turn to be cut off.

Hoseok’s eyes widened and he shouted, loudly.

“NO!”

The chair met Yoongi’s head with the sound of splintering wood, and he promptly fell to the floor unconscious as Taehyung panted heavily, eyes swirling with panic and adrenaline coursing through his body as he held out his hand to help Hoseok up.

Seeing the scene coming to an abrupt end Jungkook rushed to close and lock the door behind him; never so thankful for Namjoon soundproofing the medical ward after he screamed his head off having his wound cauterized one too many times.

Hoseok gritted his teeth in irritation as he smacked Taehyung’s hand aside, brushing the back of his hand over his now bleeding nose and spatting the blood that filled his mouth from his teeth being forced to bite down on his tongue too hard.

“...Now look what you’ve done. This wasn’t supposed to happen until her training was fully complete and now we’re going to have to move it up.”

Taehyung scoffed, looking offended.

“What; no thank you for saving you, you ungrateful ass? Yoongi would’ve continued till you were unconscious for that comment you made.”

“Exactly! That’s what I wanted you-!”

Hoseok cut himself off with a sigh and turned to the girl sleeping obliviously in the bed.

“Nothing we can do about it now. Jungkook, you’ll be the one to clean those wounds and then carry her out when the time comes.They may be superficial but it’ll be a problem if they become infected on the road. I’ll grab the materials from my room and Taehyung; you’re on weapon and surveillance duty. If we so much as miss one tracker or are spotted by one camera...this whole operation is blown. I hope you finished the map in time. We meet back here in 30 minutes. If one of us doesn’t show...we leave without them. Understood?”

Jungkook nodded, as did Taehyung and Jungkook was quick to grab the water jug, soap and rag that Yoongi brought in and tried to remind himself to go somewhat gently as he soaked the rag and scrubbed the soap into it before he ran it over your damaged shoulders. He made sure to get the entire area, just to be safe. He was pretty sure Hoseok wasn't above actually killing him if he didn’t clean them up to his standards and he still had plenty of things left to do in his life.

It only took him about 10 minutes to clean your small scrape wounds to his liking and he quickly finished up by wrapping them in bandages just in case before he set about grabbing whatever suitable medical equipment they may need in the meantime. Gods forbid your wound did get infected, or he or one of the others got injured they’d have some way to cope.

Taehyung returned with 10 minutes to spare, just as Jungkook was placing his gathered medical supplies into a non discript black duffel bag. He was carrying his own bag; also black to better blend in with the night and no doubt filled to the brim with weapons and interrogation tools he’d rather not dwell on for long.

They were both starting to get antsy as only 5 minutes remained as Hoseok finally rejoined them. In the meantime they’d bound both bags together for ease of carrying and Hoseok observed their handiwork with a hum of approval that made Jungkook’s heart swell despite himself. Praise from Hoseok was so hard to come by, it was something that was to be savored.

Hoseok mumbled an apology, explaining he’d taken the risk to gather some clothes for all of them in addition to the files and other supplies they’d need. They were doing the right thing, he was sure of it. There was no time for second guessing now; not with a bleeding Yoongi on the floor, an unconscious brat and an ever shrinking time limit. They had to go now.

At Hoseok’s signal, with Taehyung leading the way with map in hand they began to exit; First Taehyung, then Jungkook with girl in tow, and finally Hoseok. He hesitated for just a moment and then shoved open his vial drawer and grabbed several, rushing to read the labels. Just in case she got too rowdy, he told himself, quickly rushing to follow after his partners in arms.

He paused just one more time before he left and never looked back, eyes locking on Yoongi as a brief expression of pained regret flashed across his face.

‘...’

‘...Forgive me brother. But I did what I had to. You’ll come to understand one day, I hope.’

And then they were gone.

________________________________________________________________

A/N: Welp; that just happened! I hope you all enjoyed this and I want to apologize from the bottom of my heart for my lengthy absence. Depression hit me hardcore with the arrival of Covid and writing became a major struggle.I was only recently able to complete this after much struggle thanks to the darker subject matter and the characters themselves screaming at me what to do.

I will be participating in Monster Smash 2020 with @ksmutclub so look forward to my Scream AU(and do let me know if you have any good titles!) coming soon.

As for Tainting Purity...I love that series. So much. But this most recent chapter has really killed my motivation. I think I may have unintentionally censored myself to be more socially correct because it was going a certain direction and that bothers me. I just want to warn you guys; I may have to scrap it and start entirely from scratch to let it fully be my own.

It’s good to be back guys; I hope you’ll forgive me for dropping off planet Earth and welcome me back with your thoughts on the newest chapter. I love all you guys. <3

111 notes · View notes

kazimakuwabara · 4 years ago

Text

A Name (part 6)

Previous chapter can be found HERE

Kurama sat back down in his seat, and sagged into it with a sigh.

“It is long... but I will try to explain the last mission we had together,” Kurama said, his voice uncertain, “If there are parts you don’t understand... just ask, and I’ll explain it best I can.”

“If I’ve been forced to accept that demons are real, that people can have magical powers, and that there’s a girl who cries jewellery... I think I can handle whatever you’re about to tell me,” Kuwabara said, shrugging his shoulder.

Shrugging, seemed to have become his favorite gesture. Though according to Shizuru, he had been much louder and expressive before. The person he was now was a little quieter, and more reserved. She did say he had a bit more quick-witted sass in him though, and had smiled when she told him.

Kurama for his part, laughed, looking surprised by Kuwabara’s tone, “I guess you’ve had to accept a lot!”

“It’d be easier to accept it easier, if I could still do the things that people say I can do, but as far as I know...” Kuwabara waved a hand in the air, “I’m just normal.”

“You’re never normal,” Kurama said with clear affection. He smiled, straightened his back and began to speak.

“There was a demon woman name Dilandu. She had been captured and sold into slavery by a human with far too much money. Her race of demon... when they suffered enough, they went through a drastic and painful shedding of their hair, which was more like fur. The quality was... above anything else in the normal fur trade, and could be sold for an exorbitant amount of money.

“She was one of many, but when freed... was the only survivors. She had been a child when taken, and only knew her torturers. They were other demons, and so she mistakenly blamed them for her suffering... when really they were slaves themselves. The true people, the true people she should have been mad at...”

“It was humans,” Kuwabara said regretfully, his face setting in a frown. “Ironic we get called humans if we’re capable of being such monsters.”

“Demon or human, it doesn’t matter who, anyone can be a monster,” Kurama mused seriously, “If anything can be taught from what I’ve seen, it’s that the rich are the monsters in any culture, any race, any species.”

Kuwabara nodded, and after a heavy pause, Kurama continued speaking.

“Dilandu when freed, was awarded a sum of money by the spirit world, and offered a chance for a better life and recovery. She accepted all help... but therapy. She used the resources she received to find out about two objects. Áine’s Sovereign blade, and a small green mirror, known as The Path.

“The Path, at the cost of years of your life, could show you the steps you needed to achieve in order to reach whatever goal you had. Áine‘s blade is rumored by some, to belong to a Goddess. Wielding this weapon gives one the right to rule or choose who shall rule.

“When the mirror is shattered by the blade, the right to “rule,” and the Path’s abilities, change into a wish. If you offer all of yourself to the mirror, and then cut them down with the blade you can get a wish. And Dilandu, had a wish.”

At the mention of mirror, Kurama kept looking at Kuwabara as if he kept expecting him to say or ask about something. When Kuwabara didn’t, Kurama deflated a little, and then added, “The Path is one of three mirrors that can grant wishes at the cost of life force, Although the Path is considered a little more dangerous due the fact it has an evolution when combined with something else.”

Kuwabara held up a hand as he absorbed this rush of information. Kurama remained quiet, but fidgeted in his seat. Kuwabara shook his head. This was so much

“Okay... that was a lot. But this Goddess Áine, is she... was she real? Like Koenma?” Kuwabara asked.

Kurama smiled a little wistfully, “All stories such of these are based in some truth. From my understanding, her story is a true one, and a sad one. She was not so much a Goddess, as she was a young skilled blacksmith who was ravaged, and stolen from. Despite the atrocities done to her, she stole her blade back, and took her revenge against the one who had hurt her, the king of her land.

“After she killed him, she presented her blade to who she believed to be the rightful ruler... and died. She was honored by... things we don’t, and by we I mean researchers, and even spirit world--that even they don’t understand, and the blade became... gifted. Magical, might be a better term,” Kurama was gesturing now his green eyes getting lost in thought. “The swords could do extraordinary things, and then when paired with the mirror, could grant a wish.”

Idly Kuwabara wondered if Kurama was a form of scholar. He seemed exceedingly intelligent and-

“I’d often dreamed of stealing the Áine Sovereign blade for myself... the legend alone makes it an item worth snatching up. And I imagine the resell I would get on it would have been great!” Kurama sighed, startling Kuwabara so bad, Kuwabara’s mouth fell open.

Kurama laughed at Kuwabara’s expression, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and rather than explaining his previous comment, cleared his throat, and began anew, “But as I was saying... the blade seemed to be blessed. On it’s own it was a decent weapon. Tremendously usefull with a will of it’s own for vengeance and bloodshed. If it accepted the user as it’s owner, it was said to be even greater, turning into a sword of light. According the legend, the sword has never accepted an owner.”

“Do you know how the sword accepts someone?” Kuwabara interrupted.

Kurama shook his head, “I don’t... But, as I was saying, while the Áine Sovereign blade is actually useful, the mirror is more of a monkey’s paw. It does give you something, but of course at a high price. And that cost of course is much worse when paired with the sword. But it’s not just a simple death.”

“You are destroyed. You cease to be, and are forgotten. There is no where you go, not hell, heaven, spirit world, limbo... no where. You’re just... gone. The world changes to fit the wisher’s desire, and the wisher is just gone. The Path, once destroyed, immediately reforms, and can be used again if someone happens to be nearby. I could only imagine what would happen if a cult got a hold of these items. Because of the danger of The Path, it is kept locked up in Spirit World.”

“Did they not keep the sword as well?” Kuwabara asked, a brow cocked in confusion.

Kurama smiled at Kuwabara, a tired and aggravated, ‘I know!’ expression written on his face.

“The sword,” Kurama explained, “Was kept by the ruler Áine had chosen before her death. Or ascension into Goddess hood, whatever may be the case. It traveled down the line, and remained in the country of Ireland, the origin of this story. Or at least, pieces and parts.”

Kuwabara was slightly confused, and was starting to get a headache. This was a lot of lore to absorb. “Alright, cool ass lore besides... Dilandu actually went out to get these items, and I’m guessing got them? Or got close?”

Kurama nodded, “She learned of them, and decided it was worth stealing these items to get her wish.”

“And what was her wish?” Kuwabara asked, head really throbbing.

“That all demons died,” Kurama answered seriously, his expression grim as he stared at Kuwabara’s face, “We... You, me, Hiei, and Yusuke reached her just as she destroyed The Path. The affects... were immediate.”

Kuwabara felt a chill crawl up his spine. “Immediate?”

“Dilandu began to unravel, slowly unwinding like string as she made her wish. It was not a fast process. As she fell to pieces, the air began to suck out of my lungs, and an unbearable pain swept through me. The same seemed to happen to Yusuke, and Hiei. We were crippled by the pain, and fading fast. Hiei and I kept to our feet for several minutes but... Yusuke, who was already injured, fell down first... and I can’t confirm this... but I think when he hit the ground, he was already dead.”

Kurama looked away, looking pained to be explaining this to Kuwabara.

Kuwabara hadn’t properly met Yusuke yet. To his understanding, Yusuke was the one who violently grabbed him when he first woke up and asked who everyone was.

Kuwabara’s head hurt, and suddenly felt violently sick.

“I believe I passed soon after... Hiei was shouting at you before I went-”

But Kuwabara did not hear the rest of Kurama’s story.

He stood up, nausea crawling up his stomach and into his throat. He lurched as if to vomit, and then a dizziness swept through him, and he broke out in a cold sweat. He pitched forward, looking to steady himself, but only caught the edge of the table. It sent him and the table off balance, ad he fell, Kurama crying out his name as Kuwabara landed painfully on his bad arm, the table crashing with him.

As his vision exploded in white, he remembered very clearly of someone with slicked black hair looking back at him. He was a little dirty, and bleeding from battle, but the wounds weren’t that serious. Or at least they shouldn’t have been. But his brown eyes, while fixed on Kuwabara, slowly dulled. The light leaving his eyes in a heartbreaking speed.

Kuwabara heard himself suck in a painful breath, and then heard a shrill laughter. Distantly, Kurama and Shizuru were shouting his name, and his arm was throbbing with pain while he struggled to latch onto something stable to pull him out of this memory.

The white pain faded away, ad then it went blessedly dark.

#kazi fanfic #KuwabaraBirthdayWeek #yyh #yu yu hakusho #kuwabara #i don't think i'll finish this in a week XD #ah my plans #torture mention #slavery mention #rape mention #None of those things happen to Kuwabara so #don't freak?

15 notes · View notes

anika-ann · 4 years ago

Text

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.18

Impostor

Type: series, soulmate AU series (part 1, part 2) x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?) Word count: 3690

Summary: Natasha is showing a bit of tough love, ‘Nat’ is on a shaky ground and Tony is being mature. Seriously, I mean it, this isn’t a joke, Tony actually can be an adult. See for yourself.

Warnings: mentions of amnesia and death, swearing, light angst and--

Story masterlist

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Despite Steve’s initial protests, you started cleaning up while he was still trying to sooth his supersoldier appetite.

You weren’t finished yet when irritated Natasha Romanoff paced into the room.

“Come on, Rogers. I get the situation you found yourself in, I really do, but try to be smart next time,” she hissed and seemed ready to yank him to his feet by his ear.

If she hadn’t look so intimidating, you might even laugh. Steve had the decency to look guilty and you quickly realized this was about him denying the director his wishes.

‘Smart’ though? Meaning?

“Sorry, Romanoff.”

“Don’t you ‘sorry’ me and think for a second! I have two SHIELD agents downstairs, keeping them from coming up here only by telling them I’ll bring you down there in my teeth if I have to!”

Your blood turned to ice. That was much more serious than Steve had led on. What the hell?!

Steve shot the fellow agent an angry look, his teeth clenched, clearly about to snap back at her – he never got a chance.

“You’re coming with me. Do you really want them to sniff around here? I have nothing to worry about, but you might want to sort things out before Fury finds out what’s going on and tries to stick his nose into it,” Natasha stated flatly and the glare she sent his way spoke volumes. Also, the flicker of her gaze towards you during her speech was everything but inconspicuous.

You gulped in fright and resisted the urge to take a step back despite the murderous glare being aimed at Steve.

“Stop scaring the shit out of people!” Steve hissed, rising to his feet and protectively standing in front of you.

Natasha sighed and eased her terrifying manners; the switch to a friendly demeanour was almost too sharp to wrap your head around.

“Sorry. You know I’m not afraid of him. I know you aren’t either. But think, Steve. Do you want Fury to find out right now and have him on your ass – hers, more importantly, because she’s the one who rose from the death – or do you want… more time with this very charming lady, who happens to be your soulmate?” she bargained and threw a wink at you over Steve’s shoulder. What was this, a fucking wink day? And how was she switching between her moods so quickly?

“I know which I would prefer,” she added softly and smiled at you.

Her gentleness surprised you just like when she had led you to Steve’s room only several hours ago – really, only hours had it been? – and more so, her authenticity. This was a side she was willing to show her friends – for some reason, to you as well – and the strict uncompromising agent was her everyday mask.

Steve let out an indistinct sound that told you he admitted to himself she was right and that he resigned, though very much unwillingly.

You forced yourself to gather some courage and plastered a smile on your face as he turned to face you.

“If this is just about me, don’t worry about it. Go.”

Thee lamely covered hurt at you sending him away tugged at your heart, but if you were being honest, you maybe needed time to think and Steve being away could help.

“I’ll still be here. I promise,” you assured him and just like yesterday, he seemed calmer after that. Yet, there was still something that had him frowning as if he was being torn in half, having an itch he wanted to scratch, but was afraid of revealing to you where it was.

You exchanged a look with Natasha and took a calculated guess when you saw her eyes turning compassionate. You finally understood why you had found him in the chair by your bed this morning – it was closer to you. Definitely close enough to cover you in case any kind of shit went down.

“And I’ll be fine here. There’s no safer place in New York, right?”

The thumbs-up from the Natasha was subtle, but you still noticed it. Jackpot. If it wasn’t so sad that Steve was terrified for your safety, you might even cheer. In this case, not so much.

Steve’s eyes found yours, boring into them as if looking for the last remnants of anything that would keep him in the Tower. He must have found none, because he nodded softly. Your smile grew more honest.

“Okay. Alright. If you don’t mind. I promise I’ll try to be quick,” he declared at which Natasha cleared her throat.

“Because you can totally tell the World Security Council to suck it up…”

…what? Did Steve nearly refuse such an important meeting (it sounded pretty important, okay) for you? Thank God for Natasha Romanoff. You weren’t sure your conscience could live with that…

“You did,” Steve threw over his shoulder swiftly and that caused both yours and hers lips to twitch. Yeah, she seemed like the type. “Jarvis, does she still have the authorisation to walk the Tower without limitations?”

“She does now again, Steve,” the AI announced and you only then realized he was talking about you. Oh.

“Thank you, Jarvis.”

“You didn’t have to do that. I would have just-“ you blurted out and was cut off by his eyebrow arching.

“-sit in the same room all day?”

Point taken. “…yes. If necessary.”

“Well, it’s not,” he exclaimed and pressed the lightest of kisses to your temple. “Let’s get going so we can be back.”

With that, the agent and the captain took off, while you were left there standing, dumbfounded. Your face was burning hot, the warmth focused into one particular place where Steve’s lips brushed your skin.

As you automatically reached for Steve’s plate to clean it as well, you wondered if he did it on purpose or if it was something he did automatically.

Either way, the recovery from the shock and the pleasant feeling the gesture left in your chest kept you busy for the next half an hour.

And suddenly you knew it wasn’t thinking what you needed to do, no. You had to talk to someone. And you knew exactly who.

“Uhm… Jarvis? Can I ask you something?”

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

When the AI opened the door for you, you came to face Mr. Stark’s backside. Admittedly, it wasn’t the worst view you could be offered, though Steve’s would have been more impressive; yes, you had noticed, that man was impossible not to ogle. More importantly than the view being acceptable, you’d rather spoke to the man eye to eye. Which was rather difficult seeing as he was partially buried in… a robotic suit with shiny colours of red and gold?

A superhero suit, you realized. Right. Because you were momentarily accommodated with superheroes.

“Uhm, Mr. Stark?” you addressed him warily, not wanting him to-

A clank sounded as his head snapped up, its back colliding with a platter of metal above it with deadly precision. Your hand shot up to your mouth to cover it before you could embarrass yourself by the squeal coming out of it.

“Goddammit!” he cursed loudly, making you wince in compassion as he rubbed the injured spot on his head, turning around. ”Who- oh. Oh. Hey, kid.”

“Why is everyone calling me that?” you complained, remembering Dean’s set of nicknames involving exactly this. Then you grimaced as he abruptly let his hand fall to show you he was in fact not hurting. He even grinned, an expression of emotion you believed only with hesitance. “Also, sorry.”

“I’ll live,” he waved it of before answering your rhetorical question. ”It’s ‘cause we’re old and respectable. Does Cap call you that too? ‘Cause that might be a bit weird.”

“Uhm… no…?”

“Oh, good, I was getting worried,” he hummed light-heartedly and then went to a container on his right, pulling out an icepack to place over his wound after all. He gestured towards a swivel chair politely. You shook your head. “What’s on your mind?”

“The… uhm, the Jarvis told me I wouldn’t be interrupting…” you pointed vaguely at the ceiling, suddenly realizing this was a bad idea. Probably. Not to mention Mr. Stark was apparently in a middle of something, so… “Clearly, I am. Sorry, I’ll just-“

“Nope! Stay right here! And it’s Jarvis without the… ‘the’. You didn’t answer the question.”

He took the seat since you seemed uninterested in it and tilted his head with one corner of his lips raised.

“I… I wanted to thank you for your hospitality. And… I’d like to ask you something, but it might be a bit strange?”

He removed the icepack with a chuckle, tossing it carelessly to the middle of his workspace. “Kid, for all we know, you were brought back from death by an angel who spilled your memories on your way from Heaven. There’s no such thing as ‘strange’ these days. Kinky might weird me out – maybe –, but strange? Nah.”

Kinky? Really? You were so not about to talk sex with this man. His jokes were slowly putting you at ease a little though, despite what you had come here to ask.

“Right. I… uhm… I just wanted to ask… uh, what am I like? Or… she was, I mean.”

The man frowned at you, sitting upright instead of basically lying in the chair.

“You still are. Her, I mean,” he mimicked you. “Why would you ask me that? Why not Cap? Or is he only bragging about himself?”

“No! No. Steve’s… very helpful.”

“Oh. Good for him. ‘Cause being narcissistic is my jam, not his, he’s more like ‘I’m just a kid from Brooklyn’ kind of guy,” he impersonated Steve with his chin stuck out, while his voice fell an octave. The corners of your lips twitched. “Then again, he’s a hundred-year-old man and me, on the other hand, I’m slightly younger, a genius, a billionaire and overall perfect.”

That drew a chuckle from you – you simply couldn’t hold it back anymore. This man was a clown. But he was also speaking very bluntly, which was why you had chosen him to be your source of information. You liked his demeanour; he reminded you of Dean. You had a feeling that you might have been the teasing kind of friend with him. She had been. Whatever.

“I bet,” you humoured him and he squinted at you playfully.

“Correct answer. You want an opinion of someone who isn’t smitten by you,” he stated confidently and you felt the blush instantly colouring your cheeks as his choice of words.

“Smitten is not… uhm-“

“Kid, he is definitely smitten. He was and still is, or is again, whatever floats your boat,” he smirked and leaned his elbows onto his thighs. “Not that I can blame him. You’re easy on the eyes, ridiculously good to him and for him, because you are the same breed of a creepy romantic, you can keep up with my and Clint’s verbal combat, because clearly you were born with the sass gene, and believe it or not, you showed quite early on that you had guts and quite steely nerves, which is something Steve’s girl desperately needs.”

You blinked in surprise at such long speech. You had no idea what to say to that shower of compliments, having a bit of a problem to believe it was you he just described. So you focused on the safest topic.

“Steve?”

“What about him?” Mr. Stark asked, confused.

“This is the first time you called him ‘Steve’, not ‘Cap’,” you elaborated, only to earn an almost tired sigh.

“Well, obviously. Cap has a stick up his ass and jumps out of planes to save the day. It’s mostly Steve who’s a little shit and doesn’t use parachute for the said jump.” I beg your pardon? Steve is doing what? “And he’s always Steve first to you, Steve with the job of being Cap.”

That quickly distracted you from the stunts Steve was apparently pulling on missions of saving the world. You could imagine that – seeing Steve as a regular person, no matter how unique he was. You had a hunch he appreciated that too.

“Oh, I didn’t mention that before? That you were the first civilian he bothered to drop the bullshit superhero persona with? Demolished the walls keeping his little precious heart, that’s actually too big for his own good, safe and never rebuilt them? My bad, so I’m telling you now. And he’s willing to bend the rules for you. I never saw him leave a meeting early until you showed up.”

He gestured wildly with his hands as he drew metaphorical walls in the air and made them crumble down and then his fingers curled with his thumbs straightened, connected to create a heart from his hands.

Your own heart swelled in your chest a little. Could it really be true? Could Steve have been honest with you? And… could you be that person for him?

You had no idea what to say. Or do, for that matter and the man huffed exasperatedly.

“Look… I’m not great at this, okay? That’s why I built robots, not humans.”

“Jarvis seems human enough,” you quipped, taking care to leave out the ‘the’ this time.

“Thank you, miss,” the AI quickly chimed in.

Of course, he was listening now too. You hoped he wasn’t recording or something, because this was a very private conversation you wouldn’t want anyone to see and hear. Especially not Steve.

“That’s because he has a human template. He was a servant at my house when I was a kid. Great guy. deserved to be immortalized.”

That little piece of private information in exchange of opening yourself to him about your insecurities and worries was highly appreciated. Your next confession was the only thing that kept you from smiling at Mr. Stark gratefully.

“I… I think I’m hurting him by being here,” you whispered the darkest secret and Stark’s eyebrows got nearly lost in his hairline with how swiftly they jumped.

“You? Hurting Steve?” he repeated incredulously and you worried your teeth over your lower lip, curling into yourself, averting his intense glare bashfully.

“Hurting him and his reputation on top of that. And his job…. I don’t remember him. I can’t and I hate it, because I met him only yesterday and it would be ridiculously easy to fall in love with him, but how can I? How can I be that person to him, when he’s in love with someone I don’t know anymore?”

“First – if this is about his job, about Fury mostly, screw that. Focus on what’s important here. Him,” he emphasized, rising from his seat to stand face to face with you – which he did, because he wasn’t as tall as Steve.

You opened your mouth to oppose him that Steve’s job was sure as hell important – to Steve and to the world – but you never got the chance as Stark raised his index finger warningly.

“Uh-uh. I talk, you listen. You’re asking me how? Duh. Meet him again. Know yourself again. I told you – so far, you seem to be the same. But even if you’re not…” he mused, shaking his head with his jaw clenched. “Cap- Steve’s been at the bottom, okay? If you think you’re hurting him by being here in any form different than a literal ghost haunting his ass-- he’s… you’re not hurting him is all I’m saying, okay? So what, you might order different toppings on your pizza or like a different shampoo, show up here wearing a lumberjack shirt, whatever. But this…” He tapped approximately on your soulmarks, oblivious to how much his words had affected you so far. Which was a lot. “…means something. It means everything. To you, to him, to you together.”

“You… you didn’t seem to believe that too much yesterday. Now you do? So what, we’re okay and we’re going to be, because fate said so?”

Your question might have sounded sceptical, but on the inside, that was another matter entirely. What Stark had told you was already worming its way through your brain, very effectively.

Could this, whatever this was, be better than you not being here at all? You had thought so, but Steve’s interaction with the director, the carefully guarded pain being his kind eyes… it made you doubt. You hadn’t meant for it to sound like you wanted to flee, because you didn’t, but… your overloaded mind was getting the best of you.

And Tony Stark was apparently having none of it, because he made a face and shrugged.

“I don’t know who said so. It could be fate, it could be God, it could be the fairies for all I care. The thing is, you believe in that, don’t you? That the soulmark means something and that there was a reason for you to meet him again, exactly like that.”

You had no counterargument since he hit the nail on the head, so you remained silent. He charmed a lop-sided smile singing of victory.

“That’s what I thought,” he exclaimed, satisfied with himself. Then, his face softened a bit. “And that’s fine. You thought that before, which is my point. You’re still you. You might not have concrete memories, but I think everything about you does. It feels like it sometimes, doesn’t it? Weird things, things you shouldn’t feel, things you shouldn’t know, but you do.”

Your heart positively stopped as you recalled the familiarity of Steve’s face, the comfort of his embrace, the warmth in your chest that shouldn’t be there, not so shortly after meeting him.

“How… how do you know that?” you whispered, voice barely audible but still very much shaky.

“I didn’t. I took a wild guess. Looks like it was a good one.”

You huffed a short laugh, unable to comprehend how this man even existed, brisk and arrogant at first sight, but very much intelligent, funny and wise.

“Yeah. Looks like it…” you mused with an absent smile remaining. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

His arms went around you a bit awkwardly and for a very short moment, but they did, a pat on your left shoulder following. He withdrew quickly then, his hands stuck into the pockets of his jeans.

“Let’s never speak of this conversation again, alright, kid?” You nodded obediently, glad he wanted to keep this under wraps. “And stop calling me Mr. Stark. It’s Tony. Leave that mister shit for bedroom games or whatever.”

You shook your head incredulously as you recognized the moment you should distance yourself and leave him work. “Whatever you say, Tony. I owe you one.”

“Ha! You wish. It’s like a thousand. No, three thousand!”

“You’re rich enough not to dwell on such petty debt,” you called back at him and even without seeing his face, you were able to tell he was smirking.

“Oh, am I? How would you know?”

“I wouldn’t. Took a wild guess!”

A chuckle walked you out of the door instead of the man himself.

“See? Still the sassy queen!”

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

You wandered the Tower then, visiting the rooftop even and taking in the marvellous view. When you spread your arms to feel the wind better, you felt a ghost of fingers trace your skin, nothing concrete, just a whisper of a touch. You smiled sadly, wondering if it was a memory trying to fight its way out of the knot in your brain Castiel had mentioned when he had first attempted to figure out what was wrong with you and possibly fix it – which he had failed.

You didn’t blame him. Truth was, you didn’t know who to blame; not Castiel, not Steve and you had enough reason to know it wasn’t exactly your fault either. When you spread your arms again, the sensation didn’t return. So you left the open space, perhaps in search of the similar feeling throughout the Tower.

After Jarvis nudging you to take something from the fridge at least to imitate lunch, you met Clint again. You only nodded in a greeting at the man from the morning and continued your route. He didn’t engage, sensing you needed an alone time – which you did. Ever since the talk with Tony, a smile never quite left your lips, no matter how small.

You didn’t know what time it was when Jarvis addressed you again, polite as always, to tell you Steve was back. You felt your face light up and headed the direction you believed was his room.

You never ended up in a rather open hallway leading to it, stopping in your tracks when you heard a sudden rustle of fabric behind you. You spun on your heels only to meet an unfamiliar face of a woman, watching you with interest. A creepy interest, the kind of an examining glare that made you shiver.

You would swear you could feel the air crackle when her lips curled up slightly. Hair stood at the back of your neck and you fought a tremble. There was something powerful about the woman and you didn’t know whether it was safer not to move anymore or try to take a run for it. Since your feet took roots in the ground, staying still it was.

“Hi,” she breathed and it felt like she stole the air right from your lungs only to say the one word.

“Who... who are you?” you queried shakily, something in you screaming to kneel in front of the woman who carried an immense power; how you knew that, you couldn’t tell.

When you didn’t listen to the instinct to submit to her, it was only due to the numbing horror as she took a step closer.

“Oh, do not fear me. I’m just here to fix what my brother obviously didn’t think through. Close your eyes,” she requested almost gently, but you couldn’t. You were afraid that if you did, you would never open them again.

And while you didn’t remember what it felt like to die, you sure as hell didn’t want to relive it.

When you didn’t obey, the woman sighed.

The very next second, you swiftly turned your face away, shading your eyes the second the sharp glow hit you.

You screamed at the burning sensation suddenly coursing your veins, lighting up every cell in your body, setting it on fire. Tears prickled in your eyes, running down your cheeks, leaving a burning trail like acid in their wake.

And then there was nothing. ༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Part 19

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

*runs and hides*

To distract you: wasn’t that a lovely moment with Tony? O:-)

65 notes · View notes

pochapal · 4 years ago

Note

I hate doctor 11 but ive never been able to explain why in like words lmao. He feels like such a mary sue character imo and like theres something about his characterisation that was always just really ineffective (like the stuff about fishfingers and custard or whatever it was). Imo i'd love to hear you give top 5 worst things about the 11 era because i rlly just love when it gets torn apart

i hold nothing but a seething contempt and loathing for that man. every time he appeared on screen i felt ready to snap like a riled up chimpanzee in my enclosure. i am frothing at the mouth and overcome with a desire to start flinging heavy objects. this might be incoherent and inconsistent but i started this rewatch in feb 2020 and only finished this week so i got through 11′s episodes last august/september time and i refuse to revisit it to jog my memory or fact check anything i’m saying here because this man does not deserve the space in my mind for that.

the first thing is i can’t fucking STAND the quirky whimsy timey wimey bit he has going on all of the time. i can’t even say this is because this is a kids show and i was a teen and then adult when i first properly watched him but actually!! when i was eleven years old i’d sleep over at a friend’s house most weekends and it always coincided with the airing of a new season 5 episode and i remember we watched the finale with the dumb time hopping to get out of the box prison that was never explained and didn’t make sense and i thought at the time “this is really stupid”. and before that my only other doctor who exposure was watching the david tennant christmas specials with another friend and throughout childhood my only opinion on doctor who was “this is a tv show that is not for me but is one that all the boys i am friends with like so i will put up with it to maintain our friendships” but at least those episodes were both suspenseful and engaging enough to keep me watching all the way through. like who the fuck does an end of the world sci fi plot and approaches it with an “oopsy woopsy i am a funny little alien man who is going to stop you all by making you do a hecking silly” like it’s unneeded and self-parodies an already cheesy show to the point where it becomes unwatchable and makes it impossible to ever take this man seriously.

next thing that downright sucks ass so badly is the stupid fucking overwritten constantly escalating plotlines. like everything from season 5 up until his regeneration at the end of season 7 is meant to be this grand interconnected cosmic plot about how...the doctor trying to bring back his planet will end the universe or something so all the top powers across all of reality tried again and again to stop him from doing that except he doesn’t know what’s going on so he keeps thwarting these people who supposedly mean good?? i mean i sure don’t fucking know what they were trying to say!! like for some reason we never get the doctor suddenly becomes this superdemon that threatens everything so these people (whoever they are) decide to, in sequence: suck him through a time rift to erase him from existence, trap him in a prison and remake a universe without him, take his companion’s baby and turn her into a perfectly trained doctor killer, form two(!!) secret societies to hunt him throughout history that are only stopped by his companion splintering herself across his personal timeline to protect him, and repeatedly cause reality collapsing events because it’s a kinder outcome for the universe than what he will do. this grand and terrible event turns out to be...he spends a few hundred years chilling by a rift that leads to his home planet and protects a few generations of children from monsters which convinces them to give him infinite regeneration power then fuck off back to their pocket universe. and it’s like!! what is the point of anything that happens in this man’s era when everything is always “the darkest moment” or whatever the fuck!! i don’t care!! we never get a compelling reason to believe this bumbling clown of a man could ever be a universal threat!! the whole thing is so dumb i hate it!!!

thing number three i hate is how the eleventh doctor is ALSO characterised as this abrasive egotistic male supergenius to the point where he becomes genuinely indistinguishable from bbc sherlock. genuinely who enjoyed seeing this guy constantly tell people their tiny human minds can’t comprehend what he’s doing and then basically just wave his magic wand to solve whatever problem each episode is facing. 2012 is the year of human sin because this fucking shitsmear character archetype somehow became both a redditor role model AND a tumblr sexyman and it’s like!! nobody is enjoying this stop making this seem cool! him saying timey wimey thing any time he does anything is frustrating and dumb and locks the viewer out of giving a fuck about anything that is happening! smartest man in the room syndrome is a disease and the eleventh doctor is terminal with it. like remember how they established river as an accomplished scientist (when she wasn’t being a child soldier or a time paradox or whatever the fuck) and every time that came up mr doctor eleven man was like “oh this thing is obvious because i’m a genius and you didn’t realise because your brain is tiny so get out of the way and let the grownups think” or that time it turned out amy had been replaced with a slime clone for half the season and the doctor chewed rory (audience surrogate) out for somehow not realising this fact we didn’t know right from the start and like. this served no purpose other than to draw into severe question why the doctor is also this super beloved magical figure implicitly trusted by all children everywhere like. mr steven moffat is totally allergic to writing and solving mysteries in his tv show and fuck you for wanting to figure things out as you go along based on the new evidence you uncover at strategic plot intervals just let this asshole man use magical thinking to reveal he knew the answer all along and you’re a fucking idiot for not also realising this thing which had no basis or precedent anywhere else in the show.

speaking of dumb things let us not forget the absolute shitshow that was minority representation in this era. i’m not even talking about the low hanging fruit of how genuinely unironically sexist amy and clara were written where each episode moffat either seemed to loathe them or was incredibly horny over them and they had no character growth or arc or fucking anything. i’m talking about how fucking shit terrible the incidental representation was. god remember how every single fucking gay person who appeared in this era was written as one incredibly fucking stupid joke and how the women were all either sexy dominatrix, feeble girl in love, or Mother (or all three in some really terrible cases) and i’m not qualified to talk about this but also how incredibly white this era was and how on two separate occasions we had monarchs reimagined as sexy girlbosses with a gun played by black women who the doctor leched over. nothing about any of this was good ESPECIALLY coming off the back of rtd who was surprisingly forward thinking for 2005 and did a really good job of positing travel with the doctor as queer allegory. in comparison moffat gave us THE MOST heterosexual shlock i’ve ever had to endure. amy and rory could have been interesting characters were they not hemmed into this domestic bickering young straight married couple bullshit that was in no way changed or altered by traveling with the doctor except for the quasi incestuous river song reveal that was dumb and bad and stupid.

the last major mega gripe i have with the series is moffat’s fucking jingoistic boner for british military aesthetics. this carried over throughout his entire tenure as showrunner but was super terrible vomit inducing in eleven’s era. the unironic admiration for ww2 britain and winston churchill is downright wretched. are you incapable of telling a second world war story outside of churchill’s london and plucky blitz fighters. shit gives me hives so badly. and then!!! that weird church owned army that features in the future that end up being bad not for the concept of what basically amounts to an imperialistic intergalactic rendition of the fucking crusades but because they’re part of the nonsense go nowhere puzzlebox narrative that says the doctor is a not good man who will do bad things to the universe :(. remember how rtd’s doctor was a freshly traumatised man hot off the war criminal press who time and time again vehemently refuses to engage in military violence, but who tragically inadvertently turns every one of his companions into soldiers in his own personal army, and he has this moment of complete horror at the realisation and it is this which causes the downward spiral that ends in 10′s regeneration. and then how there’s this cringe line about how there’s a force of people who are “the doctor’s army, always ready to fight his battles when he’s not around” or some shit and then it turns out this is actually massive literal military operation and we’re meant to celebrate this. fuck off.

bonus round because this needs to be said but i have never hated anything like i hated that fucking human tardis episode. everything about it induced violent anger in me from the sickening overindulgence of that softgoth dark whimsy helena bonham carter tim burton aesthetic to the bafflingly terrible evil carny stereotype of those junk scavengers to the overblown sudden tragic shipbait romance of human tardis and the doctor. every word out of her mouth was trite shit and the fact that the death of her body was presented as this super emotional dramatic scene despite there being no buy in or incentive to care and the fact that every single person on tumblr in 2012 ate that shit up like it was fucking gourmet. i loathe every single thing about that episode so much.

#Anonymous #hi bestie here's 1500 words of me getting mad about the worst television experience i had in my life #why the FUCK was this man tumblr's favourite back in the day. what the fuck did anyone see in any of this shit #i never want to think about dr whom ever again

8 notes · View notes

markedmage · 5 years ago

Text

And Maybe We’re Like Fire and Ice

Title: And Maybe We’re Like Fire and Ice

Pairing: Zutara, very slight Sukka

Rating: M (there is smut, you have been warned)

Summary: It's an easy kind of love, the way Zuko loves her, and the way she loves him. It's simple in the way a turtleduck needs a pond to swim, the way a dragon needs fire to breathe. How the airbenders rely on the wind to carry them to the highest turrets on the temples, how the blood in the human body needs the heart to live. It's simple in the way fire ignites the world, and water soothes the burn. Like yin and yang, push and pull, hot and cold, ice and fire.

Notes: Hi guys, I posted a link to this fic the other day but I realized that you all probably prefer reading this on tumblr (that’s why you’re here). I’m reposting the fic here so you guys can read it in it’s entirety without having to leave the site.

Update: I just realized that this fic kinda technically fits zutara month, day 29: home, so I’m gonna tag it now. Haha, that’s me, always late to the game

Here’s the link to AO3 though, if you’d like to read it there: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24365008

Katara is twenty three years old when she decides rice wine is her favorite. It's been a long three days at the annual trade summit in the Fire Nation, and Katara is spent. She hates musty politicians and stuck up noblemen, and if it weren't for the fact that she had Toph, Aang and Sokka by her side, equally suffering, she'd probably drench the throne room in a tsunami of her own sweat.

(Zuko would probably murder her, but then feel bad about it and probably cry himself to death and then go searching through the spirit world to redeem himself to her. The thought of spirit Zuko chasing her after death is enough to amuse her and get her through the remaining days, although she wants to tell ambassador Shen of Omashu to suck it.)

She, Zuko, Aang and Toph are currently in Zuko's study, splitting a case of rice wine. Katara and Zuko are on their second shared bottle, Aang has had two cups and declares he's seeing stars, and Toph's probably had at least four bottles herself, nursing what looks like a fifth. Sokka has long since departed, no doubt chasing Suki's tail, and Zuko sputters and spits out his wine when Toph eloquently states he should wash the bed sheets, of every room in the palace.

"Toph!" Zuko splutters, looking thoroughly scandalized. Toph doesn't even look abashed, and downs another mouthful of wine straight from the bottle. She cackles and elbows Aang, who goes flying into the nearest ornamental case with an audible crack.

"Oops," she says, and raises the bottle.

Zuko's eye twitches, and that's when Katara steps in, to save Toph's ass and probably Zuko's sanity. "Alright, enough. I think it's time we called it a night. I should probably get Aang to his room."

Aang is snoring.

Zuko turns his gaze on her, and she can't tell if the plea in his eyes is begging her to take Toph and Aang away, or for her to stay.

Toph makes the decision for her, clambering to her feet and dropping her bottle, now empty. "Nah, Sugar Queen," she says making her way over to Aang. "I got Twinkletoes over here. You hang out with Sparky before he dies from lack of attention."

Zuko whines, but Toph ignores him and reaches down to pick up a very unconscious avatar, slinging him over her shoulder with ease. The image before Katara, of a slight noblewoman hardly taller than her shoulder, with dirt caked under her fingernails and her hair in a messy bun, holding up a tall, lanky bald boy with nothing but her single hand, would make anyone break out into a fit of laughter. But Katara knows all too well the strength in Toph's pinky finger, and doesn't say a word.

She and Zuko bid Toph goodnight, and with a grumble about Aang's tolerance (or lack thereof), the greatest earthbender in the world takes her leave. Zuko is quiet for a moment, but then looks at her and picks up the half empty bottle of wine before him. "Wanna go somewhere more private?" He asks.

Katara snorts, but takes the hand he offers her. "You just want to go back to your room to make sure Sokka hasn't gotten to it."

Zuko has the decency to look affronted, before pulling her out of his study and down the hall to the royal apartments. "I'm trying hard to not think about that, thank you very much." They stop before the door to his room, disregarding the royal guards standing before it. He turns and looks at her. "He wouldn't, would he?"

Katara snorts, and pushes the door open, shoving her way past Zuko into his room. "The last thing I want to think about is my brother's love life, thank you very much, but no. Suki would never let him."

He laughs and follows her into his room, closing the door behind them. With a single snap, he lights the fire in the fireplace, illuminating the room in a soft glow.

Katara goes and sits by the fire, closing her eyes and savoring the warmth it gives off. She hears Zuko rummaging around. She opens one eye and finds him disrobing his outer layers, leaving him in a simple red tunic, much like the one he wore when they were still Team Avatar, young and foolish, just a bunch of kids trying to save the world.

He comes to sit next to her. “I can’t remember the last time I was here,” she muses, taking the bottle and sipping. “What was it, like three years ago?”

“Five,” Zuko says, taking the bottle from her. “It was five. We were sitting right here when you came up with the idea to travel throughout the kingdoms, creating hospitals for the impoverished and the wounded from the battlefronts.”

Oh.

Katara is quiet for a moment, and she takes this small second of silence to study Zuko. He’s always been a contrast of emotions, and right now he seems sad and happy mixed together all at once.

Five years, she thinks. She remembers now, sitting here with Zuko, brainstorming ideas to help out those who needed her. Traveling with Aang had been great until it hadn’t been- until she’d been reduced to nothing but the Avatar’s girlfriend. She’d needed something for herself, something that would be hers and hers alone, where she could be just Katara again, master waterbender.

Zuko had been the one to ignite the idea. Stories of impoverished villages scattered throughout the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom. I don’t know how to help them, Katara, he had said to her. So many villages suffer from hunger and sickness, so many people with too many scars and not enough doctors to help them.

Hospitals. That’s what the world needed. And Katara could procure them.

And so she had. She had traveled from kingdom to kingdom, raising hospitals everywhere she went. She never spent too much time in one place, often spending just enough time to train doctors and healers what she knew, aiding the most severe cases with her waterbending, before moving on to the next town that needed her help.

It felt good, helping people. Like she was always meant for it. The girl with blood on her hands and a healer’s touch. A warrior and a healer.

I will never, ever turn my back on people who need me.

But maybe, she thinks, in the process of finding myself, I may have lost a few people along the way.

Five years is a long time to miss someone.

“How long do you think you’ll stay this time?” Zuko asks, breaking the silence. He’s turned towards her now, leaning in, and she can see the little flecks of amber in his eyes, glinting in the fire light.

“I’m not sure,” she says, suddenly aware of the temperature in the room, the temperature settling in the core of her body, making her breath come quick and fast. “I’d like to stay longer, this time. My hospitals are all running smoothly, and now that trade with the Earth Kingdom has been renewed, we won’t be seeing a shortage of supplies any time soon.”

Zuko’s eyes darken, and he leans in further, their faces separated by only their breath and the whisper of smoke from the fire. “Then stay,” he whispers. His eyes burn, and Katara recognizes that look all too well.

Five years is a long time to love someone.

Their lips crash together, and Katara drops the bottle of wine, opting instead to wrap her arms around his neck. Zuko’s arms cage her in and pull her flush against her body, where she can feel the wild rhythm of his heart pounding in his chest, matching her own. She gasps into his mouth, their breath mingling, and Zuko growls her name.

Zuko’s warmth has Katara overwhelmed with heat and weak in the knees. As if sensing her, Zuko stands, pulling her up and stumbling backwards. Her knees hit the mattress and he pushes, sending back onto the mattress. She whines at the separation, but he’s back on her in an instant, a fiery passion as he pins her to the bed. She tastes the desperation and need on his tongue, and arches against him, feeling the hard length of him pressed against her belly.

Zuko pulls away, panting. There’s a fire burning in his eyes, and Katara runs her hands through his thick black locks, feeling him leaning into her touch. He leans in and Katara arches her neck, letting his tongue trace rivers down the length of her throat. She’s overcome by her need for this boy, and she scrabbles for his tunic, yanking it open and off his broad shoulders.

He grunts and throws it off, baring his torso to her. Reverently, like a painter tracing their way over a canvas, she runs her fingers down his chest, stopping at the starburst carved into his sternum. The boy from her past is gone, replaced with a young man- evident in his marbled muscles, the sharp angle of his hips, the trail of hair stopping at his waistband-

He groans as she palms him through his trousers. “Katara,” he grunts, taking her hand. “I don’t want to rush you-”

She kisses him again, and he relents. She touches him through the fabric, listening to the hisses and groans he gives off when she does something he likes. It’s thrilling- to hold a man in the palm of your hands and reduce him to a quivering mess. She continues to touch him, until he finally grabs her hand and pulls her away from him. She frowns, but he smiles and kisses her, before pulling away with a smirk on his face.

“My turn,” he says, and Katara shudders from the burning desire in his eyes. He makes short work of her tunic and leggings, leaving her in just her wrappings. His eyes run over her figure, hands dancing over her breasts, her waist, her thighs. “I don’t want to forget this.”

You look so good in my bed sheets.

Katara moans when he dips his head, placing light kisses on her breasts over her wraps. His hands come up, molding and massaging until she’s a panting mess, breasts peaked under her wrapping. He smiles and makes quick work of the fabric, deft fingers unwinding and baring her to his mercy. He stares for a moment and Katara holds her breath, heart pounding, before he dips his head and takes her nipple into her mouth.

“Oh,” she gasps, arching into his mouth. His other hand comes up and cups her other breast, thumbing her peak while his tongue works, and she’s a writhing, moaning mess. Katara feels her toes curl, and he abandons her breasts, kissing down her stomach. She raises her head, panting, as he makes quick work of her lower wrapping. She squirms under him, but he raises an arm and pins her down. He gingerly maneuvers his body in between her thighs, and Katara feels warmth pool in her core as he studies her.

A long moan is drawn from her as he runs a finger along her slit, gathering the wetness that has pooled there. He parts her folds with his hand, and Katara holds her breath-

He puts his mouth on her, and Katara’s world bursts into color. She’s submerged in a world of pleasure as he works his mouth on her, sending tingles of pleasure radiating out through her body. She moans, and he slides a finger into her wet heat, sending another wave of pleasure through her. The feel of him inside her and his tongue on her has her seeing stars, and it only takes a few moments before she cries out, arching against him as she comes. His name falls from her lips once, twice, thrice, before she falls back against the mattress, chest heaving and seeing stars.

Zuko crawls back up her body, kissing a lazy path across her skin. Katara twitches as his hands come up to cup her breasts again, and he finds her lips, kissing her with the same passion as before. She can taste herself on his lips and she gasps against him.

It only takes a few minutes before she’s arching against him again, using her feet and hands to loosen his trousers. He grumbles and bats the offending item away before falling back between her splayed legs, taking her hand in his.

“Are you sure?” he asks, eyes burning into hers as he takes her hand to his mouth, placing light open mouthed kisses to her fingers. She’s overwhelmed by her want for this boy- this young man who always asks, who always puts her first.

“Yes,” she gasps, reaching down and taking him in her hand. He groans, eyes squeezing shut while she strokes him. She leans up, kissing him and pulling him down to her as she lines him up. “Please.”

He mouths along her jaw and throat and pushes, and Katara’s breath hitches. It doesn’t hurt- just a tight, slick slide and a whimper, and he’s home. His head falls to her shoulder, and he whispers a mantra of Katara, Katara, Katara into her shoulder.

They fall into a steady rhythm. The stretch of him inside her is delicious, the press of his chest against her breasts, the way he laces his fingers through hers as he thrusts. She finds herself arching against his every thrust, pulling him deeper into her until she’s gasping his name and seeing stars. Sweat drips off of him, making him gleam in the firelight, and he moans into her shoulder. She pulls him back to her, his lips rough against hers as he desperately rolls his hips against her. Their breaths mingle, and Katara feels like this is an eclipse- like she is the moon and he is the sun, and in the moment they meet, it’s electric.

Zuko speeds up, and Katara moans into his mouth. Although she knows she won’t get there a second time, he’s still sending sparks of pleasure flying through her and igniting her bones. But she wants him to get there too, and so she wraps her legs around his hips and clenches, arching her body so that she is flush against him and her breasts rub against his skin. That seems to be it for Zuko, and his thrusts become erratic, pulling her hard against him two more times before he tenses, groaning into her ear. She feels the warm rush of him through her and pulls him tight.

They lay there panting, and Zuko peppers her shoulder with kisses while they come down from the high. Katara gingerly unwraps her legs from him and he slowly pulls out, hissing from the oversensitivity. Katara kisses him, then quickly removes the evidence from their bodies with a flick of her hand. Zuko chuckles, and cradles her to his chest.

They don’t speak for the longest time. She dozes off after a few minutes, to the press of Zuko’s lips on her temple and a rasp of I love you whispered in her hair. ________________________________________________________________

“And maybe we’re like fire and ice,” Zuko murmurs into her shoulder, lips pressing into her warm skin. Katara lolls her head back against him, letting him trace a map from her throat to collarbone, pressing featherlight kisses across her skin. She is rejuvenated from her impromptu nap and coils against him like a firelily panther.

“What do you mean?” she asks, stretching her body out next to his. It’s warm, tangled up in him under the sheets, but Katara has no intention to move from her spot. She refuses to relinquish the heat of him, the way her legs slot between his, how his angular hips press into hers, the feel of his rough, scarred skin sliding against her body. She can imagine how they look- light and dark molding together like a painting. Like the way the sun bleeds into the ocean as it sets.

Zuko pauses. “Well,” he begins, raising his arm and beginning to trace his finger over her back, tracing imaginary patterns into her skin. “Uncle always stressed about balance and harmony in the world. Light and dark, good and evil- he’s been to the Spirit World before, you know.”

“I did not.”

“It’s not the point. Anyway,” he continues. “Maybe that’s what we are- two people in perfect harmony with each other. If air and earth are complete opposites, that means fire and water are too. You and I, we make up two halves of the coin.”

“Balance,” Katara whispers, and Zuko lowers a kiss to the back of her neck.

“Yeah,” he says. His fingers continue to draw on her back, and Katara frowns when she realizes that he’s drawing the symbol of the Fire Nation across her skin. “Uncle told me that fire is the element of power. The people of the Fire Nation have desire and will, and the energy and drive to achieve what they want. We are proud and passionate.” He’s now drawing the Water Tribe symbol on her skin. “But water is the element of change. The people of the Water Tribes are capable of adapting to many things. They have a sense of community and love that holds them together through anything. Your people are compassionate and loyal.”

She rolls over to face him, and his arm drops heavily around her waist. She savors the weight of him against her, and places her hand over his scar. He sucks in a breath and closes his eyes, pressing against her palm. He is warm under her hand, and she runs her fingers slowly over the ridges of tough skin. His eyes open again, and he turns his head to press a kiss against her palm.

“What are you saying, Zuko?” she breathes.

He stares at her for a moment, and she memorizes the twin suns of his eyes, the wrinkles around them from when he smiles. There’s affection in his molten gaze, and he comes closer, rolling them over so that he’s propped above her. With one hand, he cups her cheek, and she leans into him, letting his rough, calloused fingers weave poems into her skin.

“I’m saying, I want you here, in the Fire Nation, with me,” Zuko says, and her heart sings with joy. “I know you love your work around the nations, and I know how much your hospitals need you. But I need you too, Katara. Together, you and I could make a difference here. I need you to help me change the world, to tell me when I'm wrong and soothe me when I'm angry. I want to be your drive to do good and change this country, to fuel your passion to heal. I want you, and you need a place to call home. I want yours to be here, with me.”

She stares at him. For so long, she’s been wandering the world untethered to any one person or place. Zuko’s right, she no longer has a home to call her own. The Southern Water Tribe is like a distant dream to her, and while she does visit occasionally, she can’t imagine calling the vast desert of snow and ice her home. Not anymore.

When she thinks about it, she’s not sure if she can call any physical place home at all. In fact, the only thing that stands out in her mind is Sokka, and Toph, and Aang. And Zuko. Her home is with the people she loves, the people she calls family. And when she thinks about it even more, the image of home behind her closed eyelids is the exact same image before her in this moment: Zuko, with sleep tousled hair and lips kissed by the moon, of warm silk sheets against her thighs and his fingers laced with hers.

“You really want me here?” she whispers. His eyes soften, and something within Katara’s soul lifts.

He leans down and kisses her, and Katara winds her arms around his neck, her legs pulling his hips down so that they are pressed together. He’s murmuring against her lips as he presses further into her, winding himself around her until she’s not sure where she begins and where he ends. The heat between them builds, and suddenly she wants nothing more but to have him again. The very thought of it makes the warmth bloom between her legs once more.

She spreads her legs and arches against him. He pulls away and looks at her, his mouth swollen and his eyes dark with desire. “Are you sure?” he asks, and she nods, arching against him again. He hisses and grinds himself against her, hard and thick against her thigh.

He pushes into her slowly and growls into her throat. The weight of him feels good against her, and she rolls her hips to the rhythm of his, pressing a constellation of kisses against his collarbone, her fingers coiling in the small of his back. He groans and holds onto her hips as they move, and moves to recapture her lips. Katara loves this- she loves him, and all that he symbolizes.

Maybe he's right- maybe he is her other half. Maybe he does ground her when her feet get too high off the ground, maybe he does ignite within her a passion to engulf the world in fire and water. Maybe she does allow him to soar, to make him feel loved when those around him would only see him burned.

Yin and Yang.

She meets his gaze and pulls him down to meet her. “Zuko,” she breaths, arching into him. “I love you.”

His eyes darken, and he leans down to capture her lips once more. Not much is spoken after that, and Zuko dims the firelight with a flick of his hand, so that only the moon is witness to what comes after.

________________________________________________________________

It’s still dark out, although Katara can tell that dawn is approaching, and Agni will once again rise to chase Tui out of the sky once more. Despite the lack of sleep, Katara feels strangely rested, but finding love after years of searching for it does seem to rejuvenate the spirit. Katara rolls over and looks at Zuko, meeting his gentle gaze, and leans in for a chaste kiss. He runs a hand through her hair, cupping her cheek, and whispers I love you against her lips. She smiles, and he pulls away, looking at her so fondly it makes her chest ache.

He gets up, and Katara pushes herself up to her elbows to watch him. He's beautiful, marble skin laid over a hard body. Sweat lies in a silver sheen over his skin, and the moonlight bathes him in a silver glow. With a flick of his fingers the candles in the room a light, and his skin turns golden. He shrugs a scarlet robe haphazardly over his shoulders, tying the knot lazily around his waist. He walks over to the large golden armour in the corner of the room, rummaging around and muttering to himself, before he straightens and comes back to her.

She sits up, holding the blankets around her chest as he settles next to her. With a smile, he takes her hand in one of his and covers it with the other. She feels something sharp and heavy in her hand, and looks down. His hand still covers hers, scarred and calloused.

"I don't expect your answer any time soon," he begins slowly, and she can hear the tremor in his voice. "Think of this more as a promise for the future." Then he pulls his hand away, and Katara's breath catches in her throat.

The headpiece is small enough to fit in her palm, and glows golden in the candlelight. The crescent moon of her people, the royal headpiece of the Fire Nation, rests in her palm. She raises her eyes, speechless, and meets Zuko's sheepish gaze. "A moon?" Is what finally falls from her lips.

Zuko chuckles and runs a hand through his hair. " Yes, I had it made for you. The blacksmith was a bit shocked at first, but I wanted it to be something special." His eyes soften, and he takes her free hand in his, fingers tracing the veins racing across her skin. "You're not Fire Nation, Katara, and you never will be. You're a woman of the Water Tribe, a master waterbender, a lady of the moon and ocean. If you do become Fire Lady, which, dear Agni I hope you do, I want to make sure the world remembers your heritage and where you come from. The waterbender of the Fire Nation."

Katara can feel the tears pooling in her eyes, but she furiously blinks them away. She will not cry because of the love this man has for her, who is willing to change the traditions passed down from his people for her. She smiles, wiping her eyes. "You know, Zuko," she begins lightly. "This is a bit big to fit around my neck."

He's quiet for a moment, and she watches his eyes slowly widen at her implication. "No! I, uh- see the thing is, I didn't want- I mean, I just-"

She laughs when his arms begin to flail, and pulls him down for a kiss. He starts against her lips, but after a moment he leans in, and they fall back down together onto the mattress. Katara laughs again once they separate, and Zuko nips her nose in response.

"I didn't want to replace your mother's necklace," he whispers, and Katara's hand goes to her throat. " I figured this was one Water Tribe tradition you wouldn't mind me skipping."

She smiles, and Zuko rolls to lay next to her. Katara lifts her hand and stares at the moon headpiece in her hand, admiring the smooth curve of it in her palm. "Thank you," she whispers, and rolls over to face him. He's watching her like she is the sun. "You're right, this is too soon, but I love it. And I want to be here, I really do. I want to be here with you."

He smiles and leans in close, resting his forehead against hers. " Thank you, Katara," he whispers.

It's an easy kind of love, the way Zuko loves her, and the way she loves him. It's simple in the way a turtleduck needs a pond to swim, the way a dragon needs fire to breathe. How the airbenders rely on the wind to carry them to the highest turrets on the temples, how the blood in the human body needs the heart to live. It's simple in the way fire ignites the world, and water soothes the burn. Like yin and yang, push and pull, hot and cold, ice and fire.

Zuko and Katara.

Notes: The lady of the moon idea was inspired from @zutarawasrobbed, as well as @kakarinlin who made the most beautiful artwork for the idea. Credits to these two lovely people for inspiring me.

I hope you guys liked it. Please let me know what you think (remember, I haven't written smut in a while so idk how good it is). I also have a tendency to write things in one sitting and publish it before it turns into a multichap monster, so don't hate me too much if it's got a weird flow to it

#zutara #zutara fanfiction #zuko #katara #my loves #zukoxkatara #wolfspirit44 on ff.net #zutara month 2020 #always late #that's me

124 notes · View notes

biblio-bitch · 4 years ago

Text

Detroit Evolution Commentary Pt. 3 [FINAL]

It’s been a while, sorry. Life sucks ass sometimes and I had to do some transferring to my new laptop. I’ll write down some more fun facts as an apology. Disclaimer: This is all stuff I noticed, inferred, or interpreted. I didn’t write the film, anything I’ve interpreted is just that, an interpretation based on things I noticed using my experiences and knowledge.

Fun fact #1: I have attempted to write in a proper novel style at least five times. After watching DE and watching @octopunkmedia ‘s script breakdowns and such, I've started writing scripts instead. I’m much farther along in those than I ever have been in books. 10/10 amazing for my visual based concepts.

Fun fact #2: My mental health was rapidly declining and I was losing interest in quite literally everything at the time the film was released. Watching the film and fixating on it for a month straight not only inspired me but helped me regain control of my life. Watching streams by the cast and Michelle while I worked for school made my productivity skyrocket.

Fun fact #3: I recently developed a tic that I now can’t get rid of. It was out of control for about twenty minutes right before I began writing this post. However, when I began re-watching the film (partially because it’s a comfort for me and I’m quite honestly terrified of what’s happening in the US right now) it stopped. So that’s fun.

As usual, spoilers and swearing under the cut! Quick note: If there should be a trigger warning on this or anything else I post, please let me know! I’m horrible at remembering to tag triggers. I’ll also be doing some quick posts on Umbrella Academy and my severe obsession with Jason Todd soon. Have fun!

As usual, here’s a list of people I know the users of in case you’d like to check any of them out. I’m likely missing people so feel free to let me know who I’m missing so I can add them!

Maximilian Kroger - Nines (@ maximiliankroger)

Christopher (Chris) Trindade - Gavin (@ trindabago)

Michael Smallwood - Chris Miller (@ michaelsmallwoodforever)

Carla Kim - Tina Chen (@ carlahkim)

Jillian Geurts - Ada (@ jilbobaggins_nyc)

Michelle Iannantuono - (@ octopunkmedia)

JJ Goller - Lazzo (@ quasar.cos)

Brett Mullen - Cinematographer (@ brettmullendirector)

Austin Butts - Sound Design (@ austinbytts)

Tiare Solis - Valerie (@ tiareleiana)

So I decided to put all of the rest into this post. It’s a long one. Not even that sorry about it bc I love this film with my entire heart. Warning for me getting sidetracked. I use a lot of Supernatural references but it’s because I’m visiting my dad and he’s binge watching the show. I like Dean and only Dean, don’t bully me for it.

The Wrist Grip™️ in the bedroom before Nines moves back

Shoutout to Maximilian Kroger’s muscles u go dude

Lighting Symbolism™️, big theme through the movie, honestly I think it’s beautiful and they did a wonderful job with it.

The little nod from Gavin as he starts talking about his nightmare

You can see Gavin gearing up to move, like not in a normal way, in a “oh god I don’t know if I have the energy to do this” way and that’s Relatable™️

The little smile from Nines as they sit together

The SHARK PLUSHIE I LOVE HIM (THE SHARK HAS AN INSTAGRAM @ sharktreuse)

Nines being domestic, making coffee and breakfast, being Soft.

Shirt change??? Either I’m blind or he’s wearing a different shirt in the morning (He is. He’s wearing a t shirt at night and a buttoned collar shirt in the morning. Perhaps he changed? He’s wearing normal pants so he probably changed but he’s not wearing that same shirt in the next scene)

Ada eye rolling at them being passive aggressive dumbasses. Same. Apparently Jillian kept fucking with them which is,, so valid.

The lighting in this scene (the office pt. 2) makes Maximilian look Android-white and outlined in the CyberLife blue-ish color. Very symbolic, I have no idea if it was intentional.

Another shoutout, this time to Maximilian’s eyebrows, the expressiveness is *chef’s kiss*.

“You can thank me later, Casanova.” Nines: *confused Android noises*

Honorable mention to Michael’s Foo Fighters t shirt in the bar, it’s vintage.

Nines is in fact wearing a different shirt now. Not the same shirt from the morning bedroom scene. I also think he’s wearing a different jacket. Less of a peacoat and more of a leather jacket. Nice.

Shoutout to Tina’s (not irl) wife, Valerie! And her weird crush on Hank! I honestly can’t wait to see her in Seven Deadly Synths!!

Ada DODGING the questions that Nines is asking because she is SHADY.

Also, he looks to Gavin when he talks about wanting to be more human. Recurring theme of him perceiving himself as lacking because of his ace-ness/android-ness, like he can’t give Gavin what he wants. Honestly I know that the android thing is a thinly veiled metaphor for race in canon but I kinda like thinking of it as a metaphor for being LGBT+ and in Nines’ case, specifically ace. Might not make sense but it does in my brain??

Gavin Senses Are Tingling and Nines is GONE. Leaving the bar for ur not-bf to try to talk things out like adults??? King shit.

Also electric lighter, fun, I genuinely didn’t know those existed

SHIRT WITH UNBUTTONED COLLAR

“You don’t want to help me, you want to fix me.” What a loaded line. Because in a way, it’s almost true? Like, Nines has this entire simulation of Gavin in his ideal world, and obviously that version of Gavin has probably been idealized at least a bit. Nature of humanity, and Nines might not be human but he’s got the Brain Things. And at that moment, it’s nearly true that Nines wants Gavin to be like that ideal Gavin. Obviously Nines wants Gavin as Gavin, but there’s the edge of that simulation there, still.

But Nines does want to help Gavin, and that’s where he’s wrong. Nines wants Gavin to get better, wants to help stop the nightmares, etc. But by pointing that out, I think it’s partially why Nines can accept letting go of Simulation!Gavin when Ada attacks him. Because he knows that the simulation of Gavin will never be the real Gavin, and this line sort of helps him understand that he can’t really keep Sim!Gavin anyways.

Again idk if that’s legit but that’s definitely something I felt from that while watching.

Nines is constantly very controlled, but when he walks away from Gavin you can see him straining to keep that composure and not let his anger show.

Ada looking So Done With This Shit when Nines comes back from talking with Gavin outside of the bar

“I’m sure this will be like...every other time.” Oh honey. Oh my sweet child. I am so very sorry. It most definitely will not be.

Ada’s exasperated Eyebrow Raise before taking a drink. If that ain’t the mood sis.

I love Ada’s bat wings on her outfits.

Gavin being a stalker and putting his hood up.

“I’m...certain that most of the credit can go to you.” IMMEDIATE ANGER. Must Defend Boyfriend.

I SO WANTED HIM TO SAY “WISDOM” WHILE TALKING ABOUT GAVIN’S SKILLS BECAUSE IT WOULD MIRROR HIM TELLING GAVIN THAT HE ISN’T WISE BEFORE THEY LEFT FOR THE STAKEOUT. He didn’t, but instinct is a better word for Gavin anyways.

Nines has Suspicion™️...press X for doubt...

*Only vaguely related rant warning*

I do feel that we as a fandom tend to make Connor almost childishly innocent despite him being likely one of the least kind and least innocent characters. The characterization of Nines in this--and pardon me for the off topic rant--where he’s a fully grown man and acts like it is so much more realistic. Nines is a cop, as is Connor.

Even post deviancy, they were designed and equipped to handle murder. Nines, in a lot of fandom content, tends to come off as an exasperated older brother or a gritty and mean detective, or even worse, essentially a sociopath who feels nothing in contrast to Connor’s childish and extreme innocence. I dislike both. Seeing Nines be a normal fucking person is so relieving, I’m serious. There’s still those elements of ‘oh he’s only been properly alive for like a year, right? He probably doesn’t get Chris’ Casanova reference.’ but it’s not to such an extreme that it overtakes all of his personality traits.

Like, yeah, ok, I get why a lot of fandom content does that. In order to balance what we see Connor do (and in order to further push the Hank as a father line) we over-emphasize the not getting references and such. Honestly I see the same in content for Castiel from Supernatural. Nines, when he’s added, often HAS to be a lot darker in order to make that seem not as jarring and unrealistic.

Doesn’t mean I enjoy it. If you do? That’s great, good for you, but I don’t like seeing those characters be portrayed as such one dimensional extremes. People aren’t like that. On the off chance that someone is such an extreme, there’s still other aspects of their personality.

DE has done an amazing job at not flattening their personalities. Nines and Gavin are three-dimensional and incredibly interesting characters I find myself invested in every time I watch it.

*Onto the commentary again.*

Gavin is still being a stalker

“Particular fascination with the RK line” AHAHA funny. She’s also an RK, and she likely knows more than Nines because her programming is based on information gathering. Her fascination begins and ends with what their programming can do for her.

The little computer details in Ada’s eyes as she copies Nines’ OS, and again in Nines’ eyes when he’s in the alley alone. I believe Michelle did all of that and I am just amazed every time I watch.

The warped voice effect.

Gavin shifting to hold Nines as soon as he passes out

The ethereal colored lighting is very good for the mood, space hospital vibes

Shoutout to the latex suit they put Maximilian in! That’s not CG! He’s wearing a full body white latex suit. I’m so sorry.

Gavin looks so tired talking to Dr. Maria. His posture is defensive, pulled into himself. Shoulders hunched, arms pulled in. Eye bags, messy hair. Boy looked messed up. Somebody hug him.

Nines’ hair being disheveled and messy in the corrupted Zen Garden, rivaling his assertion that in his ideal world (Aka the normal Zen Garden) his appearance is polished, signifying the loss of control and the loss of the Zen Garden being a safe, ideal space for him. Same concept with Sim!Gavin being corrupted.

Nines: *wakes up in his mindspace*

Also Nines, immediately: GAVIN!!1!!1

Nines believes in CONSENT!! You do not go into someone’s program without asking, ADA.

Ada’s “poor widdle baby” face as Nines is freaking out because she trapped him. Mood.

Tina wearing a low turtleneck and a flannel is Peak Gay, especially next to Gavin “I wear the same leather jacket+hoodie combo every single day and probably the same jeans for a month” Reed, aka the most disastrous and chaotic bisexual I have ever seen. Again, a mood, I honestly felt that one.

The face when Nines realizes that Ada isn’t deviant yet.

Gavin is blaming himself somebody stop this idiot.

“Not without Nines.” What a softie.

“The last thing I said to him was ‘I don’t need you’.” BITCH WHAT THE FUCK MY HEART.

Gavin calling Tina “T” in that soft voice is so sweet omg

Ugh the bisexual LIGHTING is KILLING ME, ESPECIALLY as Gavin sits at Nines’ bedside

Tina encouraging Gavin. WLW/MLM solidarity.

Fun fact: Chris Trindade told Maximilian not to react at all to the big speech but Maximilian literally started crying during it and there’s footage somewhere of the Dramatic Single Tear rolling down his face while he’s still ‘in stasis’.

Yes, I double checked the streams to make sure I got this right, I love the concept though.

Look I cannot get into the speech because I will write 1.5k words on it, but I will say this: It made me cry. The acting, the writing, it’s iconic. The amount of love and devotion they got without even saying the words “I love you” was amazing. Chris is so very talented.

THERES A TAKE WHERE GAVIN FALLS ASLEEP NEXT TO NINES’ HOSPITAL BED AKSDGAKL IM SCREAMING

Tina is the best wingman ngl

The glitches in Zen Gavin are amazing. The sequence when he’s deleting the Zen Garden is also amazing. I use amazing a lot but it’s deserved.

Nines deleting the Zen Garden and Sim!Gavin is very symbolic of letting go of all of the fake stuff, letting go of the fear he was holding that kept him from confessing to Gavin and I love that

Nines sitting silently straight up.

Gavin is highly intelligent and I’m so glad Octopunk embraces that.

*another vaguely related rant warning*

Ok let me tell y’all a thing because this RUINS MY LIFE. People tend to take characters like Percy Jackson or Dean Winchester, whose intelligence isn’t outwardly obvious from the get-go, and remove it entirely. Percy is reduced to an idiot who can’t tie his own shoes and Dean is often shown basically unable to research without Sam. Both of those are bullshit.

Percy has ADHD and Dyslexia, so when often we categorize smart as only book-smart, Percy’s intelligence as a battle strategist and his actual knowledge gets erased. Dean is usually the more physical and shoot-first-never-ask-questions type, and his intelligence is severely downplayed. He made an EMP detector from scratch. Made a shotgun, remembers how to kill things, is a very good hunter, especially on his own. But that’s thrown away because he’s not book-smart.

I despise when people take characters who are talented and smart in ways that aren’t just reciting the periodic table and reduce them to muscles and angst or drooling children.

Octopunk having a scene where Gavin is working through a case, already having done the things that Chris, someone who was only recently promoted, suggests, is just affirming Gavin’s intelligence in a way I wish I could be not surprised by. Gavin is smart, and luckily I haven’t seen much downplaying that fact. He’s a detective for a reason. Unfortunately I think it might be because the fandom tends to turn Connor and Nines into actual children, but a win is a win.

Now I’m not saying I don’t love a good himbo character but I literally had to stop interacting with Percy Jackson content because people wrote him as incapable.

*Moving on*

“I think I can help with that.” Bitch why are you so dramatic I love him so much.

Nines’ t-shirt says “Detroit City Marathon”

“You...undead asshole.” What an iconic line. I need a t-shirt.

“I...hate you.” “You love me.” Harkens back to the beginning where the roles are reversed. Yes I used that unironically. Words are fun.

Gavin looking scared right before The Kiss™️

THE PULSE POINT!! THE SCENE WAS SUPER EMOTIONAL SO MICHELLE WANTED THEM TO DO YOGA ZEN SHIT TO PREPARE AND THEN THEY JUST DID THE THING BUT THEY PUT IN THE PULSE POINT

ANYWAYS THAT’S WHAT GAVIN IS FEELING FOR ON NINES’ WRIST RIGHT BEFORE THE KISS.

I thought that was cute when I learned it in one of the streams.

Nines’ LED spinning blue when they finally kiss asgladkaf

“What dipshit programmed you to do that?” “I’m the most advanced android ever made, detective-“ “oh you are such a fuckin’ prick!” “Takes one to know one.” I canNOT with them, I laughed my ASS off

The little broken laugh Nines does

Nines rubbing his hands over Gavin’s while they talk about Gavin’s jacket

Shoutout to Chris’ surprised pikachu face. (Tina is also there) That was a joke take, it’s in the gag reel, too. The face wasn’t supposed to make it into the film but Michelle added it. (In the gag reel, Carla yells “Let’s go to Denny’s!” At the end.)

And Ada’s leather pants. Honestly?? She’s so pretty. I love her. They’re all really attractive it’s actually terrifying.

Nines and Tina being a part of the Gay Turtleneck Gang

Nines’ untucked turtleneck

Tina being a Smart Girl. (Nines calling her “Officer” and her replying with “I’ll make detective someday.”

Chris being Exhausted during the whole meeting. Me too dude.

Chris and Tina doing literally nothing while Gavin and Nines have a whole heart to heart

The WHITE COAT. Tina in her blues. Chris’ Foo Fighters shirt. They’re such icons but they absolutely look like a group of gay ppl who did NOT decide on a theme.

The fight sequence is impressive, considering that they’re literally not stunt actors. I’m not a fight choreographer or stunt person so That’s really all I have to say on that.

Chris patting Gavin’s gun after he explains what he’s doing. \

As a Jason Todd lover the crowbar is unfortunate (had to, sorry)

Nines’ smirk and the TURTLENECK as he spins away from Ada with the crowbar. Iconic. The Big Dick Energy. Especially for someone who doesn’t have a dick.

Chris being a Dad when Gavin runs off to go stop the body calibration

Ada just YEETS Gavin. Iconic.

Ada: *doing the villain “you won’t shoot me, you’re too moral” thing*

Chris: Shut the fuck up *shoots her*

Deviancy sequence, iconic

“You’re awake now” bitch get your own tag line, Markus became Robot Jesus for this shit

He’s HOLDING HER HAND while DEFENDING HER!! PLATONIC HAND HOLDING

Gavin trusting Nines’ decision immediately. Amazing. THAT’S LOVE BITCH.

The SMILES after Ada leaves!! They know they made the right choice!

Ugh the COLOR SYMBOLISM!! This is one thing that Michelle has touched on herself! Gavin isn’t wearing white in this scene because he’s not ‘fixed’, he never will be! He has trauma and he’s just barely beginning to heal from it with Nines’ help. He’s wearing grey, lighter than his usual, but still grey because they aren’t pure or innocent and they’re not perfect!! And that’s the fucking point!! It’s also a contrast against Sim!Gavin wearing white! Sim!Gavin was an idealized version of Gavin in Nines’ idealized world!! Real Gavin isn’t that!! So he’s wearing grey!!

Gavin immediately understanding that Nines is Ace and that it’s ok!! Beautiful!

“You’ve been a whole person since the day you woke up” YES!! YOU DO NOT NEED SEX TO BE WHOLE!! FUCK YEAH!!! (this is ace excitement. In the months since writing this I realized I’m aro-ace and trans so fuck yeah for ace rep.)

Gavin being a dick and making Nines tell him about the skin thing

THE KISS!! They slowly move more into the light!! Because they’re getting better TOGETHER!!

Ok before I sign off, it’s only 3 am so I think I’m awake enough to talk about this, I like that they bring up that Gavin has like, actual issues that he needs to get through. Let’s be 100% honest here, I see Gavin as having ADHD, depression, and probably a form or symptoms of PTSD. He’s kinda fucked up and I’m gonna be real here he needs some therapy. He’s got trauma and needs to work through it.

I like that at the end they explicitly have Nines understand and accept that that’s what needs to happen. As someone who has actually had relationships ruined because of trauma (on both sides) that we were unprepared to work through together, if I had seen something like that? Game changer. As it was, most relationships I had seen were idealized and seemed to “fix” those issues by way of just being in a relationship. Thanks major media.

Now that the Detroit Evolution post series is over, I’m gonna be a bit sentimental and say that this film quite literally changed my life. Seriously. Michelle is such a big inspiration for me and I can only hope to be the same for someone else.

If you ever have a chance to check out any of the amazing people who worked on this film, please do. To put into context how big this was: I changed my ideal college major from Forensics to Film.

That’s it that’s all, ending this post at 3:24 am before I literally start crying over it. Thanks for suffering through my long-winded explanations, I hope you enjoyed. Have a wonderful day.

#theo watches Detroit Evolution #octopunk media #reed900 #gavin reed #rk900 #look I tagged Michelle because I have shit impulse control and I wanted y'all to have like #a direct link to her page #i might cry if she sees this and comments on it #seriously I might #happy tears though #it's 3 am and my tic is back #I have no impulse control rn #and I would fight god #also if y'all wanna request something head to the askbox or the dms #I'll look into it

57 notes · View notes

brideofcthulhu10 · 5 years ago

Text

Behold another Lost Boys holiday special! It was between this and Valentine’s day, but honestly I love writing Christmas specials, its such a cozy time despite the high suicide rates, but lets not get into that. A BIG SHOUT OUT TO @imlostinsantacarla FOR HELPING ME EDIT MY FINAL DRAFT!

Fun Fact! My husband, David (yes, that is actually his name) actually does have the bah humbug hat I mention in the head canons. He’s a heavy metal goth so when I found it at the store I had to get it for him. And you just know if our David found that, he wouldn’t be able to resist it!

Christmas with the Boys

Alright, so the whole touchy, feely and mushy feelings that surround even the topic of Christmas time is not something any of the boys will ever openly admit to enjoying. After all, they see themselves as these bad ass brutal killers who thrive off of death instead of holding hands and caroling with the goodie goodies of this coastal town.

Yet, it's challenging for them not to get sucked into the glitz and glam of the holiday season. Everything is a big deal in Santa Carla. Dia De Los Muertos, Halloween, Thanksgiving- everything! But especially Christmas.

Christmas in Santa Carla dwarfs the frenzy craze of Halloween. The entirety of the boardwalk is decked out with red and green lights that are tightly wound around palm trees, red bulbous bows are wrapped tightly around street lamps, the reds and whites of velvety fabric swirl down the posts, creating the effect of candy canes. All the store windows are painted to appear frosted, or covered with painted snowmen whilst several rooftops are covered with white felt in which mimics the texture and sight of snow. Even the boats in the harbour are all extravagantly decorated in a sea of lights that parade around brightly at night in every color imaginable.

Between the dates of the 30th of November all the way to the 24th of December the city of Santa Carla hosts a plethora of wondrous events in it's annual Holiday Festival. Large green, white and red kiosks are erected, selling a wide range of baubles and treats, from delectable chocolate coated rice krispy Santa Clauses, elf candy apples caked in a plethora of dark chocolate and peppermint, to a variety of Holiday hats, masks and even hand made costumes by the many local artists. Even hand carved candles in wondrous scents of pine, mint, or spice.

Currently, David possesses a black fur Santa hat which he acquired on a night out that boasts the words "Bah Humbug" proudly sewn over the front. It's the only holiday attire he'll even humor. Last time Marko attempted to place reindeer antlers on his head, David had set them on fire roasting atop a pan of chestnuts. Now it's not to say that he's a grinch persay. Rather, the complex and intense emotions that come hand in hand with Christmas can leave him perpetually indifferent at best, disdainful at worst. The whole occasion leaves him displeased. After all, he was an orphan who had been almost eagerly abandoned by his hooker mother left to fend for himself from the beginning, and of course never met his father. Even she could not identify which of her many clients may have been responsible. Most of his mortal life he had lived as a street rat, barely making ends meet by picking the pockets of tourists and Santa Carla citizens oblivious to the true dangers of the lower side of town. The rich and uppity classes who often snubbed their entitled noses his way would never suspect as he lurks between alleyways, leaving them cornered at knife point. It was scarce that he ever did see a kind face in the sea of those who had little interest for anyone that was not themselves. Back then it was rather uncommon for anyone to step outside their own little lives, which led to most interactions, outside of the other boys, having been met with great hostility, thus he had learned to be just as equally hostile in turn. Even the mere thought of anyone suddenly dawning a false kindness due to a certain time of year simply agitated David. It rattled him to the very core in a way very few other things did. Why bother with the lies? Couldn't people just face the very basic fact that they weren't nearly as charitable as they often deemed themselves to be? I mean, the young man had seen firsthand a family having previously snubbed a dirty homeless man with appalled disdain at the sight of his muddied clothes and dirt stained skin, only to then begin volunteering at a soup kitchen to purge whatever guilt they carried on their conscience once the holiday season began. The whole ordeal was pitiful! Nevertheless, - more so for Paul and Marko's sakes than his own -, he did humor these traditions amongst the holiday's festivities. Ruining a good time just wasn't his style. Unless they started fucking singing.

Most traditions David could tolerate, some he even enjoyed slightly; although he would never be caught dead admitting something as embarrassing as that! However, he just couldn't stand Christmas carols! They were the bain to his immortal existence. The repetitive nature of these overly cheery jingles left him covering his ears lest they nest in his brain leaving him humming the same damn melody for weeks. This was the case because the dynamic duo of dumbasses were well aware of his hatred for Rudolph the Red Nosed fuckin' roadkill! Stupid red nosed abomination.

“OOOOOOH-,” Paul begins with cheerful mischief.

“Don’t. You. Fucking. Dare.” David seethes through tightly clenched teeth, eyes screwed shut in indignance.

Paul hesitates. He looks at Marko. Marko looks at Paul. Wicked grins of agreement spread wide like wildfire across their faces as their master plan comes into play. Full throttle. What’s more fun than annoying the shit out of David? One on the left, the other on the opposite side of the cave on the right. This was nothing but Divine perfection if you asked the two troublesome vampires.

“OOOOOH DASHING THROUGH THE SNOW!” Paul belted out at full volume.

“IN A ONE HORSE OPEN SLEIGH!” Marko followed in suit, the widest eerie grin plastered on his face.

“OVER THE HILLS WE GOOOO” Paul howled enthusiastically.

“I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU BOTH!” David's voice hit a whole new octave it had never in all his life so far. All the while Dwayne had opted to vacate the room lest he be caught in the middle of the escalating madness with Laddie in tow. He loved these guys, but not enough to dive head first into their fuckery.

Paul thrives during the Christmas holidays! How could he not? The food, the punk rock covers of Christmas songs, the absolute babes prancing around the town in Santa hats under mistletoe?! He loved it all! You can find him sneaking under mistletoe with many sweet honeys on a constant basis, regardless of whether or not he's acquainted with them. Most do roll their eyes or laugh it off, but every once in a blue moon the guy will get a little lovin' from a beach babe in the Yuletide mood. What else could he ask for? You can bet he’ll run into the woods December first, and quite literally RIP a pine tree out of the ground to bring home like a wee carrot being plucked from the ground. The bigger the better! He may even drag Dwayne or Marko along with him if it's too big for him to carry himself. And all the boozy drinks he can concoct up? This boy is in his element! Mulled wine, spiked eggnog, candy cane vodka, butterscotch bourbon hot chocolate?! Yes! David straight up refuses to try anything that Paul creates himself (remember the concoction he made in Max's kitchen? Those poor goldfish....) which is also another reason why he has Dwayne help him. Or rather, the other boys insist the most responsible of them monitors the blonde lest he poison them with some sickly brew. That, and the fact that Dwayne's the least likely out of all of them to blow up the damn kitchen!

Dwayne is indeed the designated cook during the holiday rush, albeit a field even he tends to struggle. Avoiding the kitchen catching aflame, perfecting his craft lest he blow up the stove, leaving only a pile of ash in its wake. As previously mentioned, ever since the dreadful chain of events that lead to the unfortunate destruction of Max's kitchen, this raven haired vampire has attempted his hand at learning to use a stove properly: Although he often finds himself forgetting ingredients either in the midst of cooking or after the final product is done and he's taken a big bite.

“Shit! I forgot the milk and eggs!” Dwayne grumbled with a mouthful of dry crumbs, a true disgrace of a cookie.

Paul always gives him crap for it of course.

“Oooh I just thought you were going for a sandy, dusty dry cookie kinda thing.”

"Yeah man, these taste like ass!" Marko would cough out in midst of choking.

"And what, like you dumbasses could do any better," Dwayne retorts with a huff. Only Star manages to have any manners when testing his failed baking endeavors.

"Well I mean, the taste isn't that bad. Just a little dry is all."

"At least Marko wouldn't be choking to death." David would mutter from the darkest corner of the room, a little late in the conversation.

In all honesty, Dwayne's biggest motivation when it came to improving his skills was obviously Laddie. The kid never got much of a Christmas whilst living with his mom, so now that he was with the boys, he wanted to ensure that Christmas's were something that Laddie would remember for all eternity. Though granted, it is quite the mess when he was helping in the kitchen. But when the mini vamp grins from ear to ear whilst coated in flour and rapidly stirring an overflowing bowl of chunky cookie dough--the sight is too freaking cute!

Since Laddie joined the boys, they participate in Secret Santa every single year, which definitely includes Paul bursting through the entrance of the hotel as Santa on Christmas day. We won't talk about the fact that each year he almost falls flat on his face and swears, ruining the surprise for the kid.

"Santa where are your reindeer," he'd question, to which Santa Paul scoffs

"Pff, reindeer, I don't need any fucki- Ow," cut off by a firm and covert kick to the shin from Star, Paul quickly changes his response. "Oh! Ho ho, well, you see little boy, Santa can fly too! On his, uh, uhm… magic motorcycle! Yeah, that!"

But it's okay because Laddie already KNEW (he figured it out a year or two ago after Paul's beard fell off not once, but three times), he just doesn't have the heart to tell any of them because, well Paul really gets into it. And he knows the others are playing along for his sake. But to be fair, Laddie would have to be pretty dumb to believe it was Santa. I mean, the beard Paul's wearing is hanging half off his face by this point! But anyway, just like Paul's style, the entirety of the goody two shoes schpiel is thrown out the window, replaced with sleeves that have been ripped off, muddy boots, spiked bracelets and his Metallica shirt in full view beneath his flared red coat. He calls this BIKER CLAUS!

Laddie is not a squasher of traditions! But there was the one time that David had to intervene when Paul and Dwayne thought it would be great to use Laddie as the star at the top of the tree. David practically had a heart attack. Well, that's impossible but it still felt like he was having one!

“Ho ho ho! Now, don’t be a bitch, little David or Santa will have to give you coal.” Paul stated mockingly to David, brows furrowed.

“Well, Santa,” David scolds, a wry smile developing on his face when setting down the eight year old now off to shake his presents beneath their behemoth of a tree. “You best be careful. You never know what's in those milk and cookies, hm?”

Each year Marko buys bird toys for the pigeons in the hotel. Well, buy is probably the wrong word. More like he liberates the stores of their stock. And then for the next six months, David has to hear the agonizing jingle of bells. David almost roasted one pigeon in particular that kept flying over him to drop the ball with a bell in it on his head. That was Paul's entertainment for the next five hours, hell, he'd try to find it if the bird lost it and give it back. Marko defends the pigeon. Between running through stores buying up surprises for his friends, he's helping Paul throw out decorations for the cave. The dollar store has some surprisingly unexpected treasures, allowing him to deck the fucking halls to the max. Tinsel here, ornaments there, tiny light up trees to hide around the caves, a butt ton of cinnamon pine cones which he ends up throwing back and forth with Paul.

And Paul often steals his gifts or goes dumpster diving for any hidden gems. He forgets to take the tags off of them the majority of the time, which is always an indicator whether or not its new. Any time Star asks where he got them from he refuses to answer. Just gets up and walks away. But for David's gift? Well this lucky bastard has found coal in the dumpster and chucks it to David when he's not looking and he sighs deeply in disappointment because this is the third year Paul has done this.

"Huh? What? Who did that? Wasn't me. Somebody's throwing stuff."

Other than that he'll find a fat bag of charcoal and just tape the name David on it. David is certainly not amused. Dwayne will actually try to figure out what the others want, and has the sense to save the money taken from their previous meals. After all, they're dead, they wouldn't have much use for it anyway. He's not about to waste his hypnosis on some poor cashier. That would be a waste of time in his eyes.

When Christmas did arrive the tree was piled with mysterious boxes crudely mashed and taped together with bows and ribbons underneath it. It's obvious which ones are from Star since those gifts are wrapped in neatly pressed paper, wound tight beneath curled ribbons that remind the boys of her hair. Marko often goes on a food run rather than allow them all to be subjected to a potentially charred turkey, no offense to Dwayne of course. So, with a table covered from end to end with copious bowls of gravy, potatoes, candied sweet potatoes, a beast of a turkey in the center packed to the brim with cornbread stuffing, the boys cram into their chairs knocking back beers and spiked cider. Keeping to their own traditions, after fattening up, they gather around the tree and play card games, just as they had over eighty years ago on that frigid night. David still slays them in poker, and Marko is an utter dark horse when it comes to blackjack. Paul insists they try Go Fish. No one ever wants to play Go Fish. Closer towards the end of the night Dwayne will slip away to Jasper's shrine and bring him a fresh glass of rum as well as unwrapping what he got him that year. While Dwayne is there, the other boys will join him - omitting Star and Laddie left unaware of the Lost Boy they'd never met - in celebrating the last hour or so of the Holiday season with their fallen comrade.

Although Christmas time is often about uncomfortable mushy moments and emotions that create deep, unfamiliar times for David. The entire ordeal becomes that for everyone of the boys and Star. But God forbid anyone who even mentions it! I mean, it's kinda obvious though considering he's spending it with the people he always called family, knee deep in traditions that are sentimental to himself and the boys. There's a fluster of emotions running rampant during this particular Holiday Season, and although the blonde brooding vampire decides to squint at it with skepticism he savors these moments, knowing like Jasper, it could all be swept away with a single ray of light or the foolish hand of a hunter. So as they sit, drunk, full, and laughing beside Jasper's grave he can't help but smile at the sentimentality of it all. Christmas is a pain in the ass, but… it's a pain he'll gladly sit through for his brothers.

99 notes · View notes

scarlettwitcher · 5 years ago

Text

Baby Girl Chapter Four

Summary: Y/n tried to avoid her past with a certain Statesmen but when they’re partnered back up for a mission that could cost millions their lives, Y/n must make the right choice. (This is the Kingsman: The Golden Circle movie basically in writing with reader insert. I recommend watching the movie, it’s amazing! It’s on Amazon Prime Video.)

Characters: Agent Whiskey x Agent Gin(Female Reader), Tequila, Ginger Ale, Eggsy, Merlin, Champ, Harry, mentions of Poppy, Charlie, and Clara

Word Count: 3,306

Warnings: angst, canon typical violence, fluff, cursing, really bad insults

Author’s Note: We are now halfway through this series ladies, gentlemen, and my nonbinary friends. Taglists will be updated soon so if you would like to be tagged for Forevers, Dean Winchester, Marvel, Henry Cavill, or Pedro Pascal, please let me know! REQUESTS ARE OPEN! As always, thank you for reading and feedback is always welcome/needed.

Previously..

You were exhausted after the many sessions you both had and you were asleep, tucked into Whiskey's side. His arm was wrapped protectively around you, holding you tightly against him. You didn't expect this side to him but you loved it. You slowly stirred in your quiet slumber, knowing you had to return to the agency to prepare for anything to appear for the mission. You felt a heavyweight against your hip and you smiled, remembering everything from the night before. You never expected things to go this way but you were happy. You turned in his hold for a little, and watched him sleep. He looked so peaceful, like all the worries that weighed heavy on his shoulders were gone. You loved seeing him like this and you silently vowed to yourself to try and help him feel like that more often. You leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on his lips before deciding to get up for the day. It was going to be a long day and you felt it in your bones.

Now..

Slowly pushing Whiskey's arm off of you, you stood, stretching and wincing. There was a dull ache between your legs and you willed it away. He had gone rough on you, taking you several times, barely any time to breath. He had missed you just as much as you missed him and he showed just how desperate he was for you. You didn't think a man of his age would have that much stamina. You knew there was a huge age gap between the two of you. Big enough to where you could pass as his daughter. But the two of you didn't care. You loved each other and that was enough. Walking over to the mirror to rub any makeup smears away, you stared at your body, seeing all of the bruises, hickeys, and bite marks Whiskey had left on your skin. Ginger was definitely going to give you shit for returning to the agency like this. It didn't help that the bastard left them on every surface that couldn't be covered by your outfit.

You changed quickly, slipping on your shorts and simple black tank top back on. You found your cowboy boots, sitting on the edge of the bed to put them on. As you pulled the first one onto your foot, you felt a thick arm wrap around your torso, your shoulder being kissed delicately. "Morning baby girl." You hummed as his deep voice was rougher from just waking up.

"Morning baby."

"What time is it?" You slipped on your other boot, standing up and turning to face your lover as he sat there sleepily.

"It's 9:30. We should catch up with Eggsy and head back before Champ has our heads." Whiskey nodded as he kissed the back of your head before getting up, walking around in his naked glory. You couldn't help but stare at him. Even though you spent the night making love to him, seeing him still brought a deep blush to your face. He noticed this and smirked, walking over to pull you into his arms as he kissed you roughly.

"Still can't get enough of you." You laughed and pushed him back, trying to put a stern face.

"Stop it. If you keep touching me, we'll never leave this tent." Whiskey chuckled as he shook his head, collecting his clothes that were tossed all around.

"Who said I wanted to leave when I can have you all to myself?" You bit your lip and you looked at him as he slipped his jeans on, not buttoning them yet, leaving them hanging low on his hips. He knew you were watching him and he thrived under your stare.

"Soon Jack. This mission will be over and we can have some time to… catch up." Whiskey raised an eyebrow and smirked as he finished getting dressed. You bent down, collecting the rest of your things as Whiskey moved quick, slapping your ass. You squeaked out at the sudden contact, glaring at him. Truth be told, you loved when he spanked you but if he kept teasing you, you really weren't going to leave anytime soon.

Whiskey behaved himself as you finished getting ready, and you met up with Eggsy at the jet. He gave you a curious look as he stared at your skin. Eggsy wasn't going to question how you got those, Whiskey's smug smile was enough of an indicator. Whiskey smiled cockily, the smug bastard knowing exactly what he did. He laid his claim on you. You flew back to Kentucky and met up with Ginger in her lab. She showed you how the tracker was online and updated you on Tequila's condition. "So, Gin are you going to tell me what happened at Glastonbury?"

You rubbed the back of your neck before clearing your throat. "I talked to Whiskey and he, uh, well, we caught up." Ginger looked at you concerned but she saw the way your eyes lit up when you talked about Whiskey. She had watched you suffer and she didn't want you to fall down the same hole you did. You placed your hand on her shoulder and you smiled genuinely. "He said he loved me Ginge... You and I both know he wouldn't ever say it unless he meant it."

Ginger smiled softly, placing her hand on top of yours in reassurance. "Just be careful Gin."

"I will." You placed a soft kiss on her cheek before walking off towards your sleeping quarters, knowing a restless Whiskey was waiting for you. A few days after arriving, news of the lepidopterist regaining his memory circled around the agency. Eggsy and Merlin were ecstatic, circling the poor man as he came to. You didn't blame them. They had lost everyone and the fact that they had their friend back was good news. You had bonded with the brit during his stay. He taught you many things about butterflies and sometimes when you needed a silent company, you would visit his room and sit with him as he studied his butterflies. Now that he regained his memories, the boys wanted to catch him up.

The five of you decided to go out for a drink, driving down to the closest bar near the agency. You all slid into one booth, Whiskey, you, and Harry on one side and Eggsy and Merlin on the other. Whiskey was taking a sip of his drink as he moved his hand on your thigh just as Eggsy finished catching Harry up. “Now that we've finished the debrief, Harry… Here's a couple of welcome back gifts. First up… a brand-new Kingsman watch. Advanced software, it can hack into anything with a microchip. It is bollocks.” Eggsy held up a fancy looking watch, handing it over to Harry as he looked at it a bit amused, slipping it on. And Merlin…”

“I made you these.” Merlin placed a glasses case on the table in front of Harry and smiled, as he watched him grab it. Harry opened the case and let out a soft ‘ha’ as he looked down at the glasses. He placed the case down, pulling off his eyepatch leaving the air thick. Eggsy swallowed thickly as he tried to meet Harry’s eyes but was having a hard time, sharing a look of concern with Merlin. You tried to act casual as you leaned further into Whiskey, seeking his warmth. He responded automatically, wrapping his arm around you and placing a kiss on your head.

Harry placed the glasses and looked around the table. “Thank you, Merlin, Eggsy. How do I look?”

“You look…” Eggsy held up the ‘OK’ sign with his fingers as Merlin was going to compliment him but your peace was interrupted.

“Like some faggot lookin' for an eye fuckin'. Now… why don't you get out of our bar...before I take out your other one?” Everyone looked up at Moonshine with disdain. You, however, looked up in confusion. You had never seen him behave so crass. Moonshine was a fellow agent who didn’t take well to outside visitors, especially other agents.

“Now, is that any way to welcome visitors from out of town, Moonshine?” You cleared your throat as his eyes landed on you, unashamedly checking you out. Everyone at the table noticed the way he was eyeing you, including an irritated Whiskey. He stiffened next to you and you laid your hand on his thigh, calming him a bit. Moonshine chuckled before focusing his attention back on Harry.

“Okay. Suck my southern dick...bitch.”

Harry looked completely taken back as he murmured back respectfully. “Oh, I don't think that'll be necessary. Good day, sir.” Harry grabbed his umbrella and slowly stood, walking past Moonshine towards the entrance of the bar.

“Well? What are you ladies waitin' for?” You glared Moonshine down as you were about to retort but Harry’s voice echoed throughout the room.

“Manners…” Harry started to handle every lock on the door with every word. “Maketh…” You raised an eyebrow in his direction, having a feeling of where this was going and you didn’t think it was a good idea. ”Man. Do you know what that means?” Most of the men at the bar had stood, standing defensively with Moonshine. Harry stared them down from a reflective frame on the wall. “Then let me teach you a lesson.” Everything happened so quick from Harry grabbing the glass cup with his umbrella to unsuccessfully throwing it at Moonshine. The cup flew past his head straight towards you. Whiskey was quick and caught the cup before it hit you. You looked at the cup, to Whiskey, and then to Eggsy and Merlin in concern. You looked back at Harry seeing him a bit disoriented. Whiskey gave Harry an irritated glance at the fact that he almost hurt you.

“Harry, sugar, maybe you shouldn’t-”

Harry ignored you as he was focused on the men. “Are we going to stand around here all day? Or are we going to-” Before Harry could finish talking, one of the men lunged for him, punching him in the face. Harry went flying into the bar, trying to catch his bearings. Whiskey rubbed his lip with his thumb and watched as the men started to fight with Harry. He was successful in landing a couple of blows into a few but he was easily getting overpowered and losing. One of the men used Harry’s umbrella against him, landing heavy blows to his face. Whiskey had slipped out of the booth, quick using his lasso to pull out Harry from the fight. Harry landed next to the booth as Whiskey started to round up his lasso.

“Well, pick him up.” He motioned to Eggsy and Merlin. They were quick to grab Harry and help him into another booth. You stood up, next to Whiskey as he spoke. “Now, that is not what I call a Kentucky welcome.” You giggled quietly as the men stared at the both of you in confusion. You tipped your hat back just a bit, watching their confused stares turn into smirks at the sight of you. It made your blood boil. “Manners maketh man, ain’t that right baby?”

“Sure is, sugar. Thing is, I don’t think these men are smart enough to understand. We should translate it for ‘em.”

“You read my mind darlin.” One of the men had deemed you an easier target and he ran after you, screaming as he had his fist out but Whiskey was quicker and he threw his lasso at him, roping him, throwing him against the bar. Another man with a knife ran after Whiskey. He opened the loop of his lasso, jumping through as he tightened it around the man’s wrist, hitting the knife out of his hand with his elbow. He landed a punch before throwing his lasso to grab the flying knife. He caught it effortlessly and you laughed, watching him.

“Show off.” Whiskey laughed as he whipped his rope in the air with the knife, throwing it towards his next victim, the knife embedded itself into the man’s shoulder. He pulled the man with great force towards the bar. The man hit it hard and his cries of pain mixed in with the others.

“Only for you baby girl.” You ran towards Moonshine, using your small form to your advantage as he tried to punch you but you avoided every throw like it was second nature. Of course, in your case, it was. You jumped on a nearby table, using it as a force to throw you in Moonshine’s direction as you swing your leg, landing a brutal kick in his face. You landed swiftly on the floor, preparing for the next guy. Whiskey dropped his lasso, pulling out his whip. He lashed it against the floor, filling the room with the loud sounds of it cracking. You stood back and watched as he hit every man with the whip, the men screaming in pain. You bit your lip as you watched him, hating to admit this was turning you on more than it should. Whiskey noticed this and smirked as he took a second to flick the whip in your direction, hitting you in the ass. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt you but it definitely got your attention.

“H-hey!” Whiskey laughed as he wrapped the whip around one of the men’s necks.

“This one’s for you pretty lady.” Whiskey used a lot of his strength to fling the man towards you. You smiled widely as the man went flying towards you. You jumped in time to punch him in his chest, making him fall and smash his head against the pool table. Soon, you both found your rhythm. If a man came for Whiskey’s back, you’d swiftly cut in and punch the guy hard in his neck, watching as he fell to the floor, clutching his neck in pain as he tried to catch his breath. Whiskey did the same, protecting you from any unwanted harm. You were both ruthless. You were considered one of the best teams across the agencies. When you two paired up, it was almost impossible to break through.

You knew you couldn’t kill any of the men or else Champ would have your head. So you stuck to your fists and Whiskey to his whip. One of the men threw a chair at you but Whiskey was quick and grabbed it with his whip, throwing it back at the man, sending him flying through the window.

“That was hot.” Whiskey erupted into a loud laugh, his shoulders shaking violently as he tried to catch his breath. He pulled you in for a rough kiss before pulling back and looking around the room, the bodies of the unconscious men surrounding you.

“Whoo, I feel like a tornado in a trailer park.” You were about to retort but Poppy’s broadcasted message interrupted you. You watched in horror realizing that the effects that Tequila was having were because of Poppy’s horrible drugs. Once the message was over, you all drove back to the agency as fast as you could, meeting Champ in the main room. You listened to the President as he spoke about how he wanted to handle the situation, leaving you in shock.

“Fox, shut up. McCoy, declare Marshall Law. We need to keep control, commandeer stadiums, schools, civic centers. Order a press blackout and put the military on standby to round these junkies up.”

“Whether they broke the law or not, those victims are human beings. Tequila,” You watched as Champ looked over his alcohol before picking one, grabbing a glass. “He's a great guy. And a great agent. Right now, he's lying in deep-freeze waitin' on our help.” You swallowed thickly, staring at the table. You didn’t know what you’d do if Tequila passed away. He was one of your best friends. Whiskey noticed your tense nature and he took a deep breath, trying to lighten the situation for your sake but he didn’t go about it too well.

“We can't make this personal, sir.

“Personal? Agent, we can't stand by and let folks like him die. These people, we're their only hope. Now, we have to find that antidote.” Whiskey sighed as he looked up, noticing Harry analyzing him. He didn’t pay much attention to him, soon moving his focus back to you as he held your hand in his. You took a deep breath, pulling Whiskey’s hand onto your lap. He rubbed his thumbs against your soft skin, sending goosebumps across the surface.

Champ took a sip of his drink before turning and spitting it into a nearby tin. “Poppy's stockpiles, well, they could be anywhere.” Whiskey gripped your thigh in comfort as you watched Champ sympathetically. You knew he was battling with his own addiction and this was his way of dealing.

“She must have some on hand. Locate Poppy and obtain a sample for analysis. Maybe it can be replicated.” Eggsy and Harry exchanged glances of confusion as they watched Champ but they chose not to comment. You took a deep breath as you kept quiet. It wasn’t like you but your head was swirling with thoughts of the disease and of Tequila.

Soon, your thoughts were interrupted by Ginger’s voice echoing through the room. “Sorry to cut in, guys. But Charlie is on the phone with his girlfriend. Looping you in now.” She appeared on the large screen in the room with Merlin by her side before she changed the screen to display the soundwaves of Clara talking to Charlie and her location on the map.

“Don't worry. I'm on a payphone covered in a fucking blue rash. Why didn't you tell me? All you said was, "Don't take any drugs." It was a music festival for fuck's sake.” You rolled your eyes as you listened. You already didn’t like her from your last mission and this was just solidifying that dislike.

“Fuck. Shit. Shit! Okay. Listen. You need to get to the lab in Italy. Do you remember where we went skiing?”

“Yes. Yes, I remember.”

“Yeah. Meet me there and I'll give you the antidote.”

Clara’s deep sigh filled the room before she mumbled an okay, hanging the call right after

“All right. Jet's ready. Whiskey, Gin, Galahad, get to Italy.” You nodded your understanding and as you looked up, you saw both Eggsy and Harry standing up, looking at each other awkwardly. Eggsy smirked and you knew he wanted to laugh. You watched them both curiously as Whiskey spoke up.

“You two need to fix this code name thing.” He leaned over to Champ as he motioned towards Harry. “And with all due respect, sir… I don't think Galahad senior is ready to return to fieldwork.”

Champ nodded his agreement as he pointed towards Eggsy. “I did actually mean…”

“Of course.” You gave Harry a sympathetic smile and he returned a small smile in return. Even though he recovered his memories, he still remembered your kindness and trustiness for him. He remembered the things you told him about your life, the quiet evenings you spent together, the way you talked about the “man” who hurt you. It didn’t take a genius to figure out it was Whiskey you were talking about and he had his disagreements with you returning to his side but he chose not to say anything on it, respectfully leaving you to make your own decision.

“And with all disrespect… I'm not going anywhere without him.” Eggsy sat down next to Harry as he motioned towards him. Both Champ and Whiskey looked at Eggsy with different thoughts running around their heads. One thing you respected was Eggsy’s undying loyalty. You knew this was a hard trait to come by and with the way he was protective of you already on missions, you trusted him. “Brains,” He motioned to Harry before motioning to himself. “Skills,” He looked at you and winked as he motioned towards you. “Bad-assery.” You snorted as his comment brought a smile to your lips, giving you a bit of relief from the entire situation. Eggsy looked at Whiskey and took a second to think of what he wanted to say. “Skipping rope?”

Whiskey clenched his jaw as he stared Eggsy down, before moving his gaze to Champ who went into a deep laugh. You couldn’t contain your smile and you covered your mouth with your hand, hoping Whiskey didn’t hear your muted giggles. Whiskey glared at you as he spoke, his deep baritone voice sending shivers your way. You knew you were going to pay for laughing. “It's a lasso.’

“Whatever. Come on.” Eggsy stood, looking to Harry to follow him as Whiskey watched them both as Champ continued to laugh before dismissing the both of you.

“Go on. Vamoose.”

“Yes, sir.”

Forever Tags: @iwantthedean @authoressskr @sorenmarie87 @reigningqueenofwords @goldenolaf25 @giftofdreams @winchesterprincessbride @chelsea072498 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @itakeawfultoawholenewlevel @fictionalabyss @gabby913 @angelkurenai @sea040561 @sleepylunarwolf @smoothdogsgirl @carryonmyswansong @feelmyroarrrr @evyiione @sofreddie @sis-tafics @nitelotus @trexrambling @manawhaat @mermaidxatxheart @winchest09 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @mrswhozeewhatsis @just-another-busy-fangirl @lovebodymindstuff @backseat-of-deans-67chevy @chook007 @akshi8278 @evansrogerskitten @bringmesomepie56 @persephonehemingway @blacktithe7 @donnaintx @queenxxxsupreme @whitewolfandthefox @riviawitch3r

Agent Whiskey Tags: @thesadvampire @le-roman-rose @mcudisiac @someone-take-my-bagelseverywhere @chibi-liz05 @marvel-avengers01 @themandjalorian @floccodineveautunnale @jassiepoohbear @gollyderek @retrobhaddie @wolf-lover74 @paryl @laubeck10 @ithinkwehitametaphor @wizard-b1tch @domino-oh-damn @c-ly-g @rosamedina92 @sunshinepascal @ariespedro @libellule2001 @ohpedromypedro @two-unbeatable-beaters @menacingmandalorian @scribbledghost @blushingwueen

Tags I Think Would Be Interested: @spacegayofficial @ariasfandom @lannister-slings-and-arrows @sendhoots @stevieharrrr @dindjarindiaries @hiscyarika @qveenbvtch @forever-rogue @jimmythegirl @catfishingmorales @generaldamneron @cptnbvcks @swhiskeys @honeychicanawrites @thepascalorian @ladydahliawrites @roboboyjinx-writes @zeldasayer @damerondjarin @aint-that-a-mcfreakin-bitch @aerynwrites @mandadoration @absurdthirst @huliabitch @gryffindorwriter @ghostofthebarricade @astrolo-galaxy @siempre-pedro @cherryplasmids @spacedadheadcanons @madadlorian @sithlordmando @bubble-tea-bunny @beskarsexual @longitud-de-onda @archieimagines @outfatuating @inknopewetrust @softpedropascal @pascalisthepunkest @swimmingbyrd @buckyodinson @everstarry @waywardodysseys @paniclana @tiffdawg @siempre-pedro @fandom-imagines-stories @umbrellasandlassos @kingsmanstories @bucks-angels @the-real-xhorse

90 notes · View notes