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rockheadcd · 1 year ago

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It takes a few hours of silence, barely broken by the wisp that was Volkner's steady, light breathing. Trying to come up with an alibi for why he'd been the one to find Volkner like this was simple enough—he was, objectively speaking, in a dangerous line of work. Sunyshore itself? Demanded plenty of maintenance in plenty of more risky areas with all of the cliffs and rugged terrain surrounding the core city. It was easy enough to explain that he'd taken a nasty fall performing some much needed work in the outskirts of the city, and he happened to have been in the area, digging underground. Naturally, with Luxray's good nose, he wasn't hard to track down seeing as he was comfortable with Roark! Besides, who could doubt one of the most reliable gym leaders in the region, anyway? Needless to say, the receptionist didn't question much else except for obligatory identification and paperwork while Volkner was taken to be examined.

Luxray's mane had been ruffled between his hands for long enough, but the poor cat was fretting, pawing around the gurney and then pacing back to rest his chin on Roark's leg. There wasn't any way he was going to get him to relax in his ball, but he was lucky enough to promise Electivire that he could see Volkner the moment he was able to stand upright ( sorry, buddy... you're just one wide big guy ). Roark can't shake the feeling of worry, considering this is the worst he's seen him thus far—he wants to ask him just how often he's been taking matters into his own hands like this, if he's let his team help him, if he's even been able to take care of himself—Roark settles back in his little chair with a defeated sigh.

Volkner isn't going to tell him anything that easily. He knows better.

Much of his time passed like this, idle thinking and idle petting. When Volkner finally comes to, he barely looks awake even as his eyes flutter open. Thankfully, Roark had been prepared after he was given the initial assessment of Volkner's injuries, armed with a small, bagged bin, and a bottle of water to crack open later. The likelihood that he had endured a concussion was very high with the trauma to his head, but luckily, he had avoided hemorrhaging.

The moment his friend covers his mouth, Roark ungracefully shoves the bin into his arms to hold onto while his body figures out how to operate again.

"Oh, man.." he can't help but comment worriedly, at least making sure those furfrou ears of his don't get caught in the crossfire. When Volkner at least appears to have some better bearings on his surroundings, he's quick to guide him to a sitting position, putting the bin aside and offering him water. "The one and only," he answers with a lopsided smile, mostly relieved that he can recognize him. Still, Roark doesn't settle back down until Volkner takes a sip, much like Luxray at the edge of the gurney as well. "It's no problem, it's the least I can do before the nurse comes in to check on you."

Roark initially answers such a question by looking at Luxray, then looks back at Volkner—a brow raises, and that worry is back. Maybe he did forget something after all? It's not particularly a great place to fill him in, given that Roark's openly lied about the whole thing, but..

"You were knocked out and ended up in pretty bad shape. Doc said you had a concussion, too, so you'll be feeling like crap for a little while. Your team got ahold of me to bring you here." He's not technically wrong, here, at least. "I told 'em it was a work accident—took a little tumble and split your head." His voice lowers to keep the rest of his explanation between them. "I'd rather wait 'til you're discharged, Volk."

When he finally comes to, it's to those little bits of soreness and pain now making themselves known, enough to stir him from who knows how long. Awareness is just out of reach, too out of it to even begin to think of what is going on or where he might be, eyes squeezed shut at the first sign of light too painfully bright to really try just yet. It feels so easy to just— try and roll over and go back to sleep like nothing is happening, doesn't it? Tempting, even, as unusual as that may be for someone more accustomed to fighting off sleep rather than embracing it. He almost gives into that urge, drained and worn out as he is, until dizziness starts to settle in instead— and a sudden wave of nausea follows, harsh enough to force him awake, eyes snapping open and a hand slapped over his mouth as he pushes himself to sit up in some sort of attempt to relieve the discomfort that goes completely wrong— his head hurts and the nausea just gets worse and unbearable—

Volkner barely registers the thing nearly shoved into his arms, busier emptying what little might have been in his stomach into it before even realizing it, burning bitterness left at the back of his throat amidst coughing and dry heaving that went nowhere. It feels agonizingly long, until he finally feels like he can breathe again through the overwhelming bitterness lingering in the back of his throat, what little relief he found in deep breaths already ripped from him by the splitting headache pressing against his skull, already forcing him back down and pressing his face against the pillow, eyes squeezed shut once again and hands pressed against his head, as if hiding like that would be enough to make it all go away.

It takes moments that feel like hours before he can finally open his eyes for good, trying to just look around and try to make some sense through the sluggishness and heaviness in his limbs of what's going on and why he feels ready to drop, soreness starting to set in after the initial myriad of unwelcome reactions and sensations hitting at once.

( where... is he...? this isn't his home, is it...? no, this— )

It's only now, as senses settle down little by little and start to letting him work through how overwhelmed he was in so little time, forcing himself to swallow bitterness and confusion alike. that he realizes. Volkner is not alone in this sudden unfamiliarity. Someone is there waiting for him, slowly coming into focus.

( what is he doing here...? )

"... Roark...?" It's a croaked out whisper, nearly cut off by the cough that follows straining his throat, just as miserable as he looks. He has questions, so many things he wants to say from apologies to weak, empty reassurance, but nothing else comes out, a deep breath just to keep himself from devolving into another coughing fit. Before he even thinks of asking ( as if he ever would ), there are hands helping him up and sitting, carefully this time, to then gently offer some much needed water.

"Thank you..." It feels like a moment of real rest, for now, a moment to really start processing things, from the gym leader that should be anywhere but here to the room that he now realizes must be a hospital room. "... What happened...?" He has a feeling already, and he's not sure how much Roark knows, but... was this his team's doing? how badly did things really turn out?

( he wasn't supposed to be involved in any of this, and yet— )

#electrivolt #🗻 ━ 𝗂'𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖼𝗈𝖺𝗅 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗋'𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗎𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗀𝗍𝗁! / roark ic.

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siarrawrites · 4 years ago

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Rating Various Star Wars Curses

a guide w much real swearing, inspired by a midnight convo with @kckenobi

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crink/crinking -- what the actual fuck is this supposed to be. Who came up with this??? We’re only a few letters away from ‘crinkled’ or even ‘tinkled’, god. No self respecting Space Adult is going to use this.--- -2/10 pls try again

sithspit-- a classic. can be found everywhere in fic. kind of sounds like you’re hissing, which the sith would probably appreciate actually. (do normal space ppl use this or is it just a jedi thing tho bc most star wars citizens dont seem to know abt the sith???) --- 9/10 very sssssssmooth

holy sith!-- again with the sith?? ok i guess. a pretty good alternative to ‘holy shit’ but lacks the pazzazz of sithspit which is 10x more fun to say ---6/10 reliable but uninspired

frizz/frizzled -- what is this, the magic school-bus? I love Ms. Frizzle with all my heart of course, which is why im disturbed by seeing her name used as an approximation of fucked (it kinda sounds like jizz too which I HATEE). I can maybe see it as a kiddie swear like frick though. ---3/10 what the frizz is this

dwang-- ...kind of strange but you know what I’ll accept it --5/10 haha dwang the rock johnson

e chu ta-- a solid fuck you. definitely sounds like a space language, and has a nice ring to it when said with passion. works for characters ages 9-->999, thank you kiddie anakin for this gem. --10/10, ‘a fine addition to my collection!!’

sleemo-- sounds like the word ‘sleazy’ and for once the real word association does it a favor. You hear this and just KNOW what kind of person it describes. ---8/10 honestly huttese curses can get it

farkled-- ...this is the name of a fucking dice game. also it sounds nasty --0/10 get sued pls

blast-- idk if this is actually a star wars curse or an irl thing, but it absolutely should be. you got BLASTers for cripes sake this shit writes itself -- 10/10 it just makes sense honey

son of a blaster-- ok we get it guns aren’t a thing in space. except they are. sob is great i guess but consider son of a slugthrower boom alliteration plus badass space guns lets go boys ---7/10 alliteration is key

kark/karking-- amazing. inspired. beautiful. I regularly forget this isn’t an actual thing and use it in everyday life. gotta love the hard consonants she is cathartic as kark to use. -- 50/10 she just hits different ok

kriff/kriffing-- basically ‘frick’. Actually sounds like a kid-ification of kark and I just really admire that about her. 10/10 all the cool initiates say kriff

bantha poodoo-- the one that started this whole discussion. listen, this is fine when you’re 9 year old anakin skywalker and say ‘yippee’ unironically but for anyone else this is just embarrassing -- 2/10 ok if you’re baby i guess

skrog/skrogging-- at first I was gonna rate this one low bc it sounds weird and is a synonym for fuck (which just ain’t it). but then I thought about it and realized that if you replace bantha poodoo with bantha skrog you actually have a somewhat decent word for space shit. --- 6/10 we done figured it out boys

snark/snarking-- this is already a real word. why are you stealing actual live words out of the english dictionary sir that’s i l l e g a l --- 0/10 for plagiarism

druk-- a solid replacement for shit, and more serious than skrog (though bantha skrog sounds better than bantha druk imo). gotta love those consonants, and a ‘drukload’ of problems is a phrase that just works. 9/10 will always be there for you

krong-- I just... I dont... know? How i feel abt this. reminds me of king kong donkey kong AND kronk from emperors new groove. maybe thats my own brains fault but also where does this work?? ‘dont krong things up’ just use kark? ‘bantha krong’ just use skrog or druk. In conclusion? --4/10 ok but you can do better

schuta-- we’re branching out folks! finally, a twi’leki curse. she’s catchy and very fun to say, but it does mean slut, and we respect women in this household. If you wanna make a very despicable character say it though it will help make us all want to beat ‘em up :) ---5/10 all women are QUEENS george

vape/vaping-- ... ill give u a pass bc I dont think vaping was a thing when this word was made, but this straight up doesn’t work in the blessed decade of 2020 ---1/10 you’re on thin fucking ice

shab/shabuir-- not to be confused w ‘shebs’ which is just mandalorian booty, this is mandalorian shit. Sounds like a real word, is mandalorian which automatically makes everything 10x more legit, and has that lovely insult variation! ---7/10 truly some shit I can get behind (heh)

vong-- we don’t mention the y**zhan v*ng in this household --- -∞/10 legends can get right tf outta here

shavit-- friends, I had to look this one up to make sure it wasn’t actually a real swear word. I think I’ve picked this one up through osmosis reading fic bc I’ve definitely used this in real life. that’s quality folks. --- 10000+/10, will unironically say this from now on

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KC, I cried laughing at some of these I truly dont know where they come up with this stuff.

there’s a lot more where these came from but i didnt feel like doing all of them, heres the link tho , knock yourselves out

#this got real KARKING long didnt it #sorry not sorry #my first legit post tho!#look at that #took for-fucking-ever #my posts #my stuff #star wars #star wars curses #star wars swears #rating

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diaryofabeautyfiend · 3 years ago

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It Had to be Witches

Dean and Sam are on a hunt at Rowena’s request. When Sam is out of commission, Dean has to work with you.

Warnings: Unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it!) male oral receiving, fingering, mention’s of witchcraft, brief mentions of ritual style murders, brief mention of animal sacrifice, Dean is a sad boy.

Word count: 3567

All written and proofread (poorly) by me. All mistakes are my own. Please don’t copy or repost my work. Likes are great and I’ll love you forever if you repost and comment. Thanks for reading.

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Sam and Dr. Philips examined each of the women’s bodies. Carved into their limbs were runes consistent with the ones Rowena described. She said she was sending an expert who lived in the area but the boys hadn’t made contact yet.

“The other agent who was just here asked the same questions. Don’t you guys talk to each other?” Dr. Philips covered the bodies. Some of the women he knew personally.

“Different departments. You said he was just here? How long ago?”

“She. Her name is Diana Luna. She’s down at the evidence locker. All the women had the same necklace. She went to check it out.”

Sam thanked the doctor and set off to find you. First he called Dean. “Looks like Rowena’s story checks out. Her expert was just here. The bodies were marked with runes and all of their tongues cut out. And, get this, they all had the same necklace. Maybe a coven?”

“Of course. Of course it’s witches, Sam. Look, don’t go far. I’m on my way.” Sam was sitting on a bus bench reading coroner's reports when you approached him. Due to the nature of the case, Rowena insisted the elder Winchester carry out the task at hand. “Use Sam as bait.” she instructed.

“Agent Cornell? I’m agent Luna from the Lansing office.” You extended your hand. “Director Macleod sent me.”

“Yeah, I bet she did. Bring me up to speed.”

“Sure. I’ve got what you’re looking for right here.” You blew a very potent powder in his face knocking him out. You put the lankier Winchester into your truck and sped back to your house. Getting his dead weight up the stairs was a task but you did it. “Sweet dreams, Sam.”

Dean searched the entire town square for Sam with no luck. He tried his phone again and it was going directly to voicemail. Sam could hold his own against any witch but Dean was still worried. As he unlocked the door to the Impala, he heard you call his name over his shoulder and turned his head to see who was speaking. You blew the dream dust into his face rendering him unconscious.

He was heavier than he looked. You shoved him into the back seat and pried the keys from his hand. Baby growled angrily when she started but you had her purring for you in no time. You drove him back to your house and dragged him inside where you intended to tie him up. Rowena coached you on all their tricks. You took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and divested him if anything sharp. With his wrists and ankles bound in a pretty decent slip knot you splashed his face with water to wake him.

“Morning, handsome.” he smirked as you wiped his face.

“Big mistake, sweetheart. I’m guessing you’re the one we’re looking for.”

“Pretty and dumb. Rowena was right and you would be guessing wrong. Her name is Teresa Wilson. She came seeking asylum with our coven a few months ago. Said her whole order was obliterated. Turns out, she wasn’t exactly who she said she was.”

His face split into a cocky grin, “They never are. What do you want with me?”

“You need to help me find her. Rowena gave me a locator spell. When I cast the spell, I’ll need your fancy bullets. Problem is…”

He laughed heartily, “Problem is you can’t touch ‘em, am I right, sweetheart?”

“You would be correct.”

“And what’s in it for me?”

You took a step back just out of his reach just in case, “If you help me I’ll let your brother live.”

He strained against the ropes veins bulging in his forearms. “If you touch one hair on his head I’ll rip you apart myself. You hear me, witch?”

Your nails dug sharp into the meat of his cheeks so he would look at you. “Relax, baby. Your brother is safe. He’s asleep upstairs dreaming of puppies and rainbows as we speak. But if you don’t help me, he’ll never wake up. And, Dean, when I kill someone, it sticks. No resurrections for Sammy this time.”

You’ve never seen a human man snarl before. It was pretty cute. Rowena warned you not to be mesmerized by his sweet face and his Disney Princess eyes but you couldn’t help it. The man looked like he would, in fact, rip you apart. And, Hecate help you, you wished he would. You traced a finger along his sharp stubble covered jaw. His eyes turned up to look into yours, throwing daggers at you. “Anyone ever tell you how cute you are when you’re angry?”

“All the time. Get to the spell so I can take my brother out of here.” he growled.

“It’s not time. If I untie you, are you gonna be a good boy or do I have to hit you with my knock out dust again?” You couldn’t take your eyes off of his perfect lips smiling at you.

“Sure, mommy, I’ll be a real good boy.”

You knelt in front of him and parted his knees slightly to undo the first knot. “Such a smart ass.” He growled low in his throat when you peered at him through your lashes. His dick grew painfully hard against his jeans as you slid your hand up his legs to maintain balance. Of course you noticed though he tried to squeeze his thighs together to hide his arousal. “Do you like me like this, Dean?”

Of course he did. You were just his type. A little bratty but you had a good heart. Rowena told them about you. The little warrior for the Grand Council. They constantly sent you to do their dirty work and you did so without question like a good soldier. No wonder Rowena paired the two of you. You were the female version of him. “Like what?” His voice was low and dripping with need.

“On my knees for you. Looks like you do.” You winked at him but he looked away embarrassed.

It had been a long time since he felt a woman wrapped hot around him. Everything in him wanted to follow your siren song and happily crash. He couldn’t do it. This story always ended bloody. “You couldn’t handle it, sweetheart.” He peered down at the bulge in his pants. So did you. Your core heated at the thought.

“Is that a dare or a double dare?.” He spread his legs and licked his lips inviting you to take what you wanted. You shook it off and focused on the task at hand. “Well in any case, I made you dinner. Pot roast, potatoes, peas and carrots. Eat if you want.”

It did smell amazing. His stomach growled remembering that all he had was coffee this morning. The living room and kitchen were well lit and warm. He felt at peace in this place. More so than the bunker where it could sometimes feel clinical and cold. “You got a pretty nice place here. You all alone?”

A sly smile played on your lips, “Just me.” You sat the plate down in front of him with a cold beer and a bottle opener. The oven timer dinged and, when you opened the door, the aroma of cinnamon and spice wafted through the air.

“That pie?” He sounded choked up.

“Apple. I have an orchard in the back. Rowena filled me in on how to keep you happy.” You sit it on the windowsill to cool while you ate. “I can’t have you bashing me over the head and running off before we kill this bitch.”

He shoveled a fork full of potatoes and gravy into his mouth humming in appreciation. “Why me? You had Sam here. He’s much better at this witch stuff than I am. Why drag me out here?”

“You’re more reliable when making difficult decisions. You’re what I need. Another beer?” He nodded breathing in the soft floral scent that wafted off of your skin as you moved.

You didn’t offer any further information and Dean thought that was probably for the best. If he got in his head about the situation he would lose his nerve and that can’t happen. That’s how people die. As of late, Sam has had a lot on his mind. Dean would have to shoulder this burden. At least Sammy was getting some rest.

The two of you shared a comfortable silence only marred by silverware hitting ceramic. “Well that was delicious. Thank you….umm…I don’t think I caught your name.”

“I didn’t give it to you. I’m Y/N. But I wouldn’t mind if you kept calling me sweetheart. Pie?”

Dean's heart beat hard in his chest at the thought of calling you sweetheart “Maybe a little. So when do we do this thing?”

“Eat your pie then meet me outside. I have to prepare.” You slipped out the back door down a dimly lit path to your cauldron. You threw in the mandrake and tobacco. Last was the chicken that you had to slaughter. You grabbed a hen from her coop and stabbed her with your athame. It made a terrible sound which sent Dean flying through the back door ready to fight.

“What the hell was that?”

“Chicken.” You allowed the rest of its blood to drain and discarded the carcass. “periisti. lates. Ego te quaero. I vestrum adprehendet vos.” You chanted over and over until a glowing beacon appeared. “We have to follow it.” The orb circled the two of you then floated towards the Impala. You retrieved his keys from your pocket and started off for the car.

“Whoa whoa whoa. What are you doing?”

“Following the orb.” He grabbed your arm as you started to slide into the driver’s seat.

“No one drives my baby but me. You sit shotgun.” He impatiently waited for you to scoot over. When you reached for the radio he slapped your hand away. “Are you serious?!”

“What? There were other decades besides the 70’s.” He bit his lip and flared his nostrils letting out an unsettling growl. “Driver picks the music.”

“You are a child. Just drive. The spell won’t last forever” you huffed.

“So, just you huh? No boyfriend? Girlfriend?” You didn’t answer keeping your eyes trained on the orb. “Yeah me neither. Maybe later we can grab a drink.”

“My god. Can you keep it in your pants until we’re done? It took a left!”

He sped up taking off after it, “I see it. So that’s not a no.” That was all the invitation he needed. The truth was you would have given it up the moment those green eyes stared into your soul.

“It’s not a no. Let’s focus.”

Baby ate up miles of dirt road before reaching the highway. A couple of miles ahead the orb sped for an exit into town. You were led to the motel where the boys were staying. The door to their room was wide open and there Teresa stood bathed in the light of the orb. You bid it a job well done and sent it on its way.

Teresa, caught off guard, quickly muttered a spell pinning Dean to the wall, sending the gun skittering away. You faced each other down while Dean struggled. “She’s a kid!” he groaned in pain.

“I’m nineteen thank you. You don’t have to do this Y/N. Come on. We’re sisters. We share the same DNA. Let’s take them on together.” Tears welled in your eyes. You may have been blood but you weren’t sisters. She grew up far out of the Grand Council’s reach while you were their trained lap dog.

“Only half little sister. You’re hopped up on enough stolen magic to power the entire city. The Grand Council sent me to take you down. Adiuro te in nomine Hecate. Adiuro te in nomine Dianae. Tuae vires cum luna decrescant.” you chanted. She fought back but the binding spell was powerful. She didn’t have enough magic to hold Dean and fight you so she let him go. When he regained composure, he dove for the gun.

Without warning, Teresa gained the upper hand. She held out her arm and used all of her might to pull you towards her. Blood stained tears fell from your eyes as you struggled to breath. With every last ounce of strength you had you doubled down on the binding spell long enough to hold her so that Dean could put her down. The blast of the shot filled the small motel room filling your ears with a high pitched whining. You collapsed onto the floor where Dean scooped you into his arms.

“Hey, Y/N. Wake up. Stay with me. Shit.” He carried you to the car and gingerly set you down next to him. The drive back to your house felt long. When he got you inside he placed you on the couch and called Rowena.

“Is it done then?” she asked in her thick Scottish brogue.

“Yeah but your girl’s unconscious. She’s breathing but she used a lot of magic. A lot. I don’t think you’ll be calling on her anytime soon.”

“Keep her warm, Dean. I’ll be there soon.” The line went dead. He sat on the floor in front of you and brushed your hair from your eyes.

“Sweetheart, you need to wake up. We were supposed to grab that drink, remember?” He pressed his lips to your temple lingering there for a moment when he heard Rowena’s laugh trill behind him.

“I should add matchmaker to my long list of talents. Out of the way, Dean. I’ll get your girl fixed right up.” She patted his hand and pushed him aside.

His face flushes hot burning all the way to his ears. ”She’s not my girl.”

“Of course. Now, what seems to be the trouble, dear?” She placed her hands on your head. Her eyes glowed as she spoke over you. Your lashes began to flutter and you woke up. “There she is. Good as new.” You and Dean exchanged a look. “That appears to be my cue to go check on Samuel.”

“Thank you, Rowena.” your voice was hoarse barely above a whisper.

“Not at all, dear.”

Dean pulled you into his lap rocking you gently, “You scared the hell out of me, sweetheart.”

“I had to stop her. She hurt too many people.” You felt guilty for ending her but even guiltier for letting her go as far as she did. Guiltier still for not pushing harder to be in her life. “It was my fault.”

“Hey, no it wasn’t. What? You think you should have been a better big sister? You didn’t lead her down this path, Y/N.” You rested your head on his shoulder “All these years and all the stupid fucked up shit Sam and I did, I blamed myself. I took on that burden. Alone. It’s a lonely awful place to be. I’m begging don’t do that to yourself.” He held your face in his hands forcing you to look at him. He wanted to kiss you. You would have let him if he leaned in. Instead he brought you back down to his chest just to hold you. He saw so much of himself in you. You were headstrong and self righteous but your intentions were altruistic.

You melted into his arms so lost in him that you didn’t hear Sam and Rowena slip out. Dean offered his brother only a small nod to let him know you were ok. He had several texts from Eileen anyway. Happy to see his brother didn’t have to spend another night alone, he went back to the bunker.

You sat in silence for a while when you started yawning. “Shit. What time is it?”

“After midnight. I should get outta here.” You untangled yourself from his grasp but didn’t stand. His hands stayed respectfully at the small of your back. You locked eyes with him. Your core tingled as he brushed errant hair from your forehead.

“Or you could stay. We haven’t had our drink yet. Though, you don’t need to get me drunk, handsome.” You kissed his jaw and down his neck working your way to his collarbone. A soft moan escaped his lips when you nipped at his neck. “I mean you enjoyed me on my knees and all.”

“As pretty as you looked,” his voice was low and gravelly, “And, I mean you looked gorgeous. We really shouldn’t.”

You genuinely pouted your lips backing off of your ministrations, “Why not? I want to. And you clearly want to. You’re a fucking legend, Dean. Show me just how legendary you are.”

He arched a brow at you and smirked in the way that only Dean Winchester does. “Flattery will get you everywhere, sweetheart.” Finally his lips were on yours. The force of his kiss took your breath away. It wasn’t predatory or greedy. It was slow and sensuous bordering on hunger. His whole body was hungry for you. Dean Winchester was hungry constantly looking for something to fill the hole inside him. For the moment, that was you. He felt like he was floating and was suddenly very warm. If he stopped kissing you he knew he would just stop breathing. He couldn’t bare the thought.

“What are you doing to me?” His chest heaved. “I feel like I’m on fire.” Surely this must be a spell or enchantment. He pulled you back in for more but this time his hands strayed from your back. They traveled to your hips then under the hem of your shirt to feel your flesh warm against him. He had to feel you. To be inside of you. Deft fingers unbuttoned your jeans. Without breaking the kiss he stroked your clothed core working up a rhythm that flooded you with arousal.

“Touch me, Dean. Please” you cried. Pushing your panties aside his fingers explored your dripping pussy. His pace is maddening. Your hips snapped fucking back hard. “Fuck, Dean. So good. I need your cock. Want you to split ne open.”

“You’ve got a filthy mouth, Princess. Come for me and I’ll give you what you want.” And so you gushed around him moaning like a witch on fire. When your heart slowed to a normal rhythm you stripped naked. Before he could get undressed he took a moment to kiss and touch every inch of you. If this was only for tonight he wanted to savor you. “God you’re beautiful.”

“So are you.” You pulled him up and undressed him, never once breaking eye contact. His cock was red and weeping just aching to be touched.

On your knees in front of him you took the whole burning thing in your mouth. To Dean, you were the most stunning creature to exist. You swirled your tongue around the head while you hollowed your cheeks sucking him in deeper still.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Fuck that feels good.” His hands grasped the back of your head keeping you steady while he fucked your face. It started feeling too good like he would blow his load in your mouth. He had to feel your sweet cunt. “Let me feel you, baby. Fuck I need you.” You pulled off with a pop and climed into his lap. Both of you whimpered when you sank onto his length. The stretch was exquisite. Your pussy held him so tight. You ground your clit over his pubic bone while he fucked into you with a brutal pace. “You feel so good. M’not gonna last. Come for me, baby. I need it.” Your twat fluttered around him, milking him for all he was worth. You kissed once more fighting to hang on to the last tendrils of tenderness and warmth that you could.

“Stay. Please. Just for tonight” you whispered.

He tightened his grip on you. “Of course, sweetheart. All night.”

He hated to leave you but the sun rose like a beacon calling him away. If he didn’t leave then, he wouldn’t have ever left. Last time he stuck around and fell in love, he had to learn the hard way that he could never have this. Maybe he would call you the next time he swung through town. Maybe you’d spit in his face for bailing. He brushed the hair off your forehead and kissed your temple. “Bye, sweetheart.”

You woke when you heard the Impala roaring to life in your driveway. He left a square of paper with a phone number scrawled in pencil “I’ll always answer. -DW” You put on your robe, went down to your cauldron and threw it in with a few bundles of sage and some witch hazel to sever any feelings. On the next full moon, you’d do a cord cutting to make sure it sticks.

“See you around, handsome.” In his eleven hour drive back to the bunker, any feelings that you have would slowly fade. The two of you would go back to being too afraid to feel and far too afraid to fall in love. Dean wouldn’t hear from you again. He wouldn’t really remember where you lived. But, every time he drove through Michigan, he’d feel a twinge in his chest. And, no matter how many rituals you did, you’d feel him too.

#sam and dean #dean winchester #dean winchester angst #dean winchester smut #Dean Winchester fluff #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x witch reader

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buck-buck-boose · 3 years ago

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I'll Love You 'Til I Die

Masterlist | Playlist

Summary: A Brooklyn schoolgirl fell in love with James Buchanan Barnes at the tender age of nine. With this love she made a vow, promising to love him until her very last breath.

Pairing: Bucky x OFC

Warnings: Language, mild violence

Word Count: 4.6k

Author's Note: Big things are happening y'all

Chapter Twenty-One: The Super Soldier

March 19, 1943

Dawn crept up on Camp Lehigh in a thick haze of fog, the chirp of crickets its only whispered greeting. A late-winter frost bloomed across what little grass remained, the majority having been trampled underfoot by platoon after platoon of soldiers. Winter was quickly fading, giving way to a promising spring, but the bitter chill still latched onto those dewy mornings to remind Camp Lehigh’s inhabitants of the cold season they’d just nearly escaped.

Although sessions of training were not due to begin for hours, warm bodies were stirred from slumber in their barracks, meeting the cold, stale air of their poorly-insulated lodgings. The nurse’s barracks was lit by a lamp's dim glow, which splayed a flush of golden light across the room. Five women quietly and nimbly dressed, none of them wishing to break the silence that balanced among them; the early morning was sacred to them, as it seemed to be the only time apart from nighttime in which one could be alone with one’s thoughts.

Lottie deftly pinned her mousy curls beneath her white cap, caring little for their arrangement or appearance. Once upon a time, she’d tamed her curls with gentle finger waves and carefully pinned back strands, desperate to look the part of a fair woman like Ginger Rogers. It was a quieter, more joyful time in which she had the time and desire to put ample effort into her appearance. How simpler life in Brooklyn seemed, in retrospect. She only had to care for Steve or Bucky’s wounds, usually from some street brawl instigated by Steve and ended by Bucky; now she had soldiers to care for. Soldiers who would one day be covered in great, gaping wounds, some so deeply ingrained within their souls that neither the highest of morphine dosages nor the strongest suture could soothe them.

Lottie made swift work of fastening her blue cape around her neck, situating it so that the inner red lining wasn’t peeking out. In her peripherals, Mary smoothed a hand down her white skirt in a weak attempt at combatting its wrinkles while Betty gave her face a once-over in a battered compact that she always seemed to have on her person. Lottie was downright envious of her ever-red lip and sultry gaze, they seemed to turn the heads of all the young privates on base, which earned them more than a few reprimands. It was only a few weeks ago that Betty had explained her reasoning for putting such effort into her physical charm, even in the middle of the war.

“Nurses are supposed to provide comfort, care, right?” She sat across from Lottie at their table in the mess hall, smoke curling from a freshly lit cigarette resting between her fingers. She puffed on the cigarette for a moment and slowly exhaled the smoke, “Well these boys have been stuck in a war for over a year now and they probably haven’t seen a pretty face in a while. They’re probably missing their sweethearts, fiancées, you name it. Either way, they’ve gotta be awful lonely out there, so what’s the harm in being that girl with the pretty face that can make them a little less lonesome?”

Before anyone could raise a question, she continued, “I’m not talking affairs or anything illicit, sometimes they just need a pretty face and a nice voice to remind ‘em of home, to ease that loneliness.”

Betty’s little sermon drew Lottie’s thoughts to Bucky. He was a fiercely loyal man who would stop at nothing to protect or care for his closest companions. For his own sake, Lottie hoped that he’d found a sort of comradery with his fellow soldiers, a bond to strengthen him while they were separated by an ocean. He’d always had a habit of flashing her his trademark grin and ruffling her hair, all while declaring something silly like “You ‘n Steve are all I need, Little Lottie. It’s always gonna be the three of us, ‘til the end of the line.” Lottie could only hope that Bucky had found a bond like theirs with his fellow soldiers as a source of comfort and a respite from loneliness.

“Lottie dear, Dr. Erskine’s waiting for us.”

It seemed that the other nurses had filtered out of the barracks as Lottie was lost in thought. Only Gladys remained, waiting for her expectantly at the doorway. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back in a tight bun, with her white cap nestled daintily atop her head, held in place with a handful of pins.

“Apologies, Gladys, I’m coming.” Gladys gave her a small smile as she caught up, nerves keeping her from forming her true toothy grin. All the nurses were nervous, to be truthful, as it was a significant day. Their serum was finally being put to use; they had found their first Super Soldier in Steve Rogers.

When Lottie had received the news of his selection to receive the serum, she’d nearly fainted with shock. Steve was a man with a heart of gold, she’d always known that, but it only served to heighten her self-doubt with regards to the serum’s efficacy. If the serum went awry as it did with Schmidt, Lottie wasn’t sure how she would be able to live with herself.

Dr. Erskine and Colonel Phillips’ debriefing as to why Steve had been chosen to become America’s first Super Soldier was a source of comfort, though. The two men had cornered the five nurses outside their barracks right as they were heading inside to turn in for the night.

The scientist had been the first to speak, “Ladies, we wanted to catch you as soon as possible. Colonel Phillips and I have decided upon our candidate for the serum. Private Steve Rogers will report to our facility in Brooklyn promptly at ten hundred hours tomorrow. We will need to depart camp at six hundred hours so we have abundant time to become accustomed to the equipment that will be in use. Mr. Stark will be joining us there.”

Lottie was sure there’d been spots in her vision, the announcement had nearly knocked all the wind out of her.

“I expect you ladies to uphold the same sense of secrecy and vigilance that you’ve had up until this point,” Colonel Phillips interjected, “This is only the beginning of our mission. We must continue to protect Project Rebirth, no matter how hopeless it may seem.” His voice was laced with bitterness, obviously doubtful of Steve’s abilities.

Nancy furrowed her brow, “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but isn’t Private Rogers the ninety-pound asthmatic? Why him and not someone more… reliable, like Private Hodge?”

Lottie bristled slightly, as she did not take kindly to critical remarks regarding her friends.

“Need I remind you that the serum is not focused only on the physical?” Dr. Erskine fixed Nancy with a level gaze, “He is not the most well-built soldier, I admit that. But as you have seen yourself, the serum is capable of incredible cellular change that will only strengthen him. It will also amplify the qualities that he already has inside of himself. He has proven himself to be a good soldier and a worthy recipient of the serum.” Lottie glanced at Colonel Phillips, whose face was twisted into an awkward grimace, though he did not comment.

“During training today, he exhibited qualities of strength and humility that I have yet to see in any other soldiers thus far. Would Private Hodge throw himself over a grenade to protect his fellow soldiers? He showed me today that he would not, but Private Rogers would.”

Colonel Phillips muttered something along the lines of, “Still skinny,” though the bitterness seemed to fade. All of the nurses came to accept the news, trading in their expressions of shock and concern for ones of uncertainty and anxiety. It seemed that reality had hit for all five of the nurses at once; their work had finally come to fruition, making the road ahead even more daunting than before.

There was little conversation in the nurse’s compartment on the train to Brooklyn. There were moments of brief chatter among the women, but they were all too lost in their thoughts to carry on a proper conversation. Lottie shifted in her seat every few minutes, the poorly-cushioned seat providing little comfort during the duration of the train ride. Beside her, Gladys flicked through a stack of paper, which she’d pulled out of a manila folder that had been stamped with the word “Confidential” in large red letters. Ever the levelheaded academic of the group, she’d decided to look over their notes on the serum and its activation procedure one last time.

Across from her, Mary and Nancy were busying themselves with embroidery, an activity that a few of the nurses had picked up to improve their abilities with stitching. Lottie pictured a frayed handkerchief in her mind’s eye, a tattered old thing covered in clumsy pink flowers with a “JBB” monogram stitched carefully onto its corner. She wondered if Bucky had taken it with him overseas. He’d always kept it on his person back in Brooklyn, “Never know when a dame’s gonna go all misty eyed on me,” he’d say, humor in his eyes. There wouldn’t be many women for him to comfort overseas, but maybe he’d need it for his tears someday.

Betty sat to the right of Gladys, scanning the pages of a battered copy of Gone With the Wind. She’d never struck Lottie as a bookworm, but more often than not, she was the last of the women to fall asleep at night, usually engrossed in a novel for an hour or two past lights-out.

Two hours passed uneventfully; its monotony was only interrupted by the transferring from one train to another. Lottie’s heart seemed to pound in her ears as they approached Brooklyn, the tall buildings in her window becoming more and more familiar to her. Her heart swelled at the sight of it; she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed the city until she returned after all that time. Of course, she’d been gone from the city for longer while she was in nursing school, but it tugged at her heartstrings even more than before because a damn war was what kept her from her beloved borough.

It wasn’t long before the train had arrived, initiating a flurry of movement out of the train car and toward a car that sat at the curb, waiting for them. All five nurses clambered inside, with Dr. Erskine following behind in his car. The car ride was a short one, though Lottie took the time to observe her surroundings; she wanted so desperately to drink in the familiar alleys and side streets before she had to return to Camp Lehigh, to war.

Their car stopped abruptly in front of a cozy antique shop; one she’d never paid much attention to. Dr. Erskine’s car had arrived just a few moments before theirs, so they followed him inside. Once inside, they were faced with an aged woman, who greeted them with a casual question, though her eyes betrayed a deeper glimmer of suspicion, “Wonderful weather this morning, isn't it?”

Dr. Erskine responded promptly, “Yes, but I always carry an umbrella.”

They were quickly led through a false bookcase, which hid a vast laboratory full of all that was needed to complete the transformation that would occur in a few hours. There were dozens of monitors and gauges, all for measuring Steve’s vitals and the Vita-Rays that were intended to activate the serum within his cells. In the center of it all, there was a bed on which Steve would lie, and when injected with the serum, the bed would be surrounded by a chamber while the Vita-Rays were projected into him.

Lottie and her peers stood at the top of the stairs, taking it all in, while Dr. Erskine descended the steps toward a control panel. He glanced back at them briefly, “Shall we all get accustomed to this now, ladies?”

Over the past few hours, Lottie had tired herself by calibrating various instruments, readying the equipment, and arranging several vials of serum within the transformation chamber. Throughout that time, doctors, higher-ranking soldiers, and members of the SSR slowly filtered into the room, some even gathering in the observation booth that looked down on them from above. She knew that Steve was due to arrive with Agent Carter at any moment. Frankly, she was terrified— mortified, even.

Howard Stark flitted about the laboratory, checking up on the various devices that would be used throughout the process. The Vita-Ray chamber was his brainchild, so a majority of his morning was spent double and triple-checking its minute parts and its stability.

At precisely 10 o’clock in the morning, Agent Carter and Steve stepped into the laboratory, two metal doors held open by guards for their entrance. Silence quickly descended upon the scientists and personnel who had been moving about the room in a sort of organized chaos. Lottie knew that most of them were looking at Steve in confusion, and in some cases dismay, but she made sure to send her best friend a reassuring smile. Even if the bullheaded scientists in the room were doubtful of his abilities, Lottie was with him. She believed in him. Her only doubts were in her abilities.

The staff quickly returned to their business as Agent Carter and Steve descended the steps and approached the center of the laboratory to meet with Dr. Erskine. They shared a brief greeting before Steve was ordered to remove his hat, tie, and shirt; Mary waited beside him with a kind smile, accepting his shed clothing. Agent Carter stood a few feet behind Steve, respectfully averting her gaze as he partially disrobed. Lottie took a special interest in their interactions, examining the way in which she treated Steve. She didn’t ignore or belittle him as some women did, she treated him with more dignity and respect. For that, Lottie was grateful.

Lottie busied herself with sterilizing several glass syringes as she impatiently awaited the initiation of the transformation. She could just barely make out a conversation that Dr. Erskine and Steve had shared about schnapps, but before she could quite figure out what was said, the scientist turned to the inventor beside him, “Mr. Stark, how are your levels?”

“Levels at one hundred percent. We may dim half the lights in Brooklyn, but we are ready as we’ll ever be.” Mr. Stark stood in front of the chamber where Steve now lay, projecting an air of confidence despite an uncomfortable look in his eye.

Agent Carter was dismissed to the booth to join Colonel Phillips, who was seated with several other seemingly important men that Lottie didn’t care to know. Dr. Erskine addressed the crowd in the booth using a microphone, explaining the purpose of Project Rebirth. Meanwhile, Lottie and her fellow nurses prepared the Vita-Ray chamber; she’d just situated the paddles on his chest when his gaze met hers. They’d been in a similar position so many times before. There were countless times over the past decade when she and Bucky had shown up at his apartment, soup and medicine in hand, to make him feel better during his latest bout of sickness. Bucky would always sit on one side of the bed, leaning on the mattress as he tried to distract Steve with idle conversation. She always kept vigil on the opposite side of the bed from Bucky, pulling Steve’s sheets up to his chin no matter how much he complained of the heat. She would never have to do that again, Lottie realized, as the serum would (hopefully) strengthen his immune system to the point that it would nearly be impossible to get sick. He wouldn’t need her or Bucky to look after him anymore. It pained her only slightly; she was overjoyed that he would be strengthened and healed by the serum, but it felt like the end of an era for her. She wasn’t truly needed anymore.

When the scientist’s speech to the booth had concluded, Lottie disinfected Steve’s shoulder and injected a syringe of penicillin into it; beforehand, she gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, warning him for the pain of the jab. She felt him sigh in relief, “That wasn’t so bad.”

Lottie bit back a giggle while Dr. Erskine looked down at Steve with a furrowed brow, “That was penicillin.” The scientist gave her a look and without missing a beat, began the countdown.

Five

The doctors and scientists that were scattered around the laboratory rushed to their control panels, monitoring Steve’s vitals and the Vita-Ray levels that would soon be harnessed for the serum’s activation.

Four

Those that were observing from the booth looked at the scene below with bated breath; they either anticipated either a predictable failure or an unlikely success.

Three

The five nurses gathered around the Vita-Ray chamber, monitoring the serum infusion. Two mechanical arms latched onto Steve’s biceps and embedded several syringes deep into his muscle.

Two

Dr. Erskine placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder. Lottie met Steve’s gaze once more, she was that little girl at his bedside, sitting her vigil for one last time.

One

A switch was flipped and several syringes of the serum were injected into Steve’s system. Lottie could already see the strain it was putting on his body, his face contorted and he grunted in pain as he felt the serum begin its work in his body.

When given his signal, Mr. Stark flipped a lever to encase Steve in the Vita-Ray chamber, which maneuvered Steve into a vertical position before he was completely locked into the machine. Dr. Erskine knocked on the metal, “Steven? Can you hear me?”

A muffled response came from within the metal, “It’s probably too late to go to the bathroom, right?” Lottie snorted, only Steve would make a terrible joke at a time like that.

The scientist faced Mr. Stark, “We will proceed.” Below him, Mr. Stark slowly turned a dial and donned a pair of goggles. Lottie and her peers followed suit, as the luminosity of the Vita-Rays would cause vision damage if their eyes were left uncovered.

Lottie worried her lip as Mr. Stark slowly increased the radiation levels by turning a wheel that was mounted on the control panel. Next to him, a doctor carefully monitored Steve’s vitals; he reported that they were all normal, which calmed Lottie a tad.

At around the seventy percent mark, cries began to ring out from within the Vita-Ray chamber. It was as if screams were being torn from Steve’s throat, they were so hoarse and raw. Dr. Erskine rushed to the chamber while Peggy quickly descended from the booth, urging the personnel to cease the radiation. Lottie stood in shock, stuck in an internal impasse. She worried deeply for Steve’s safety, she always had and always would. Simultaneously, she needed to trust in the years’ worth of work she’d put into Project Rebirth. She and her fellow nurses had worked day after day, slaving over the Super Soldier Serum and Vita-Ray theories to develop the perfect transformation method. If she couldn’t trust her abilities and research, what could she trust?

But when Steve’s cries seemed to echo throughout the laboratory, she knew that his safety superseded whatever pride she had in her research. Lottie had just opened her mouth to call for an end to it when Steve insisted from within the Vita-Ray chamber, “Don’t! I can do this!”

A burst of warmth bloomed in Lottie’s chest; Steve trusted their work and he was fighting to see it through. Mr. Stark continued to raise the radiation levels until they had reached one hundred percent. The staff and observers from the booth could only look on in shock and wonder as the light from within the chamber continued to glow brighter and it began to give off a steady humming noise.

Without warning, sparks began to spray out from the control panels as a result of the copious amounts of electricity being funneled into the transformation. Lottie cried out, ducking down with Mary to avoid the sparks that showered down on them from overhead. Across from them, Nancy, Gladys, and Betty assumed similar positions, clutching their white caps as they attempted to shield themselves from the onslaught.

As quickly as it started, the sparks ceased, as did the humming of the Vita-Ray chamber. The laboratory was far dimmer than it was earlier, with the light from the radiation gone, and nearly half the bulbs in the laboratory having been blown out.

All eyes were on the Vita-Ray chamber as they all awaited the final result of Project Rebirth. The chamber hissed open and released a gust of air, revealing an exhausted-looking Steve.

Lottie could barely believe it, not only was he exhausted-looking, but it seemed as if he’d gained nearly 8 inches of height and a few dozen pounds of muscle. Gone was that scrawny blond boy who’d gotten lost in crowds far too easily, here was a man— a Super Soldier —who was perfectly enhanced on a cellular level.

The SSR agents and politicians who were previously gathered in the booth rushed to meet with Steve, barely able to contain their excitement. They clambered over each other, all of them desperate to be the first one to speak with America’s first Super Soldier.

In all the chaos, Betty had sidled up to her, her jaw nearly touching the floor, “Hot damn, Lottie Green. Hot damn.” She ogled at Steve as she took in his new physique. Lottie rolled her eyes, “Just because he’s got more muscle doesn’t mean he’ll be able to talk to you any better. Or that he won’t step on your toes if you get him to dance.”

Steve stood in the middle of a crowd of men, though Agent Carter stood in front of him, attempting to look at anything but his chest.

“I think you might want this, Stevie,” Lottie moved in to stand beside Agent Carter and offered him a shirt, which he accepted gratefully. He smiled down at her gratefully, murmuring a quiet, “Thank you, Lottie.”

How odd it was to be looking up at him. It was certainly something that Lottie wasn’t used to, she’d gotten quite used to looking down at him, in fact. By age sixteen, she’d gained about two inches on him, and though he was loath to admit it, she knew it pained him to be the shortest of the three of them. Luckily for him, his new height delegated her as the most diminutive of the Brooklyn trio by far.

Amid the jubilation following Project Rebirth’s success, grave mistakes were made. Gladys had left her manila folder of notes— all the notes that the nurses had ever taken during their research —on one of the control panels closest to the stairway, just close enough to the exit to be snatched up by a discreet hand. An extra vial of Super Soldier serum sat in its case, at the ready for its eventual use; it stood unguarded and unwatched.

The once-unassuming Fred Clemson hung back from the crowd, a lighter in hand. Dr. Erskine was the first to notice his position apart from everyone else; the scientist opened his mouth as if to say something, but before he could form a sentence, Clemson had flicked open the lighter and triggered an explosion from the observation booth.

Screams rang out from the middle of the laboratory as glass rained down on them. Sparks even worse than before began assaulting them and left stinging burns in their wake. Lottie grunted as she felt minuscule shards of glass tear at and become embedded in her skin; it would surely be a pain to treat such small cuts and remove the pieces of glass later on. It was shocking, really, how quickly the mood of the room had shifted. Just moments before, she’d been looking at Steve in awe, fully processing all that the serum had accomplished. Her sentiments of excitement and pride quickly evaporated, replaced by a growing sense of panic and dread.

The force of the explosion had thrown Lottie and some of the other nurses to the ground, so she scrambled to her feet in an attempt to take action against the man. It was all in vain, for as soon as she regained her footing, all she saw was the bespectacled man diving through the crowd to grab the last vial of Super Soldier serum and the thick manila envelope that Gladys had brought with her. Lottie’s stomach dropped in terror; she opened her mouth to cry out for backup, but Dr. Erskine was one step ahead of her. He commanded the man to stop, but the only response he received was several gunshots in the chest.

Deep red stains formed across the front of his shirt and seeped into his lab coat, his vibrant blood was a sickening contrast to the crisp white color of his lab coat. The scientist fell to the ground, his legs sprawled out before him and his arms at his side. Lottie knew that there was no hope for him— there were no exit wounds and she was more than certain that at least one of his lungs had been punctured. His breathing was labored, his chest heaving with every inhale and exhale. Lottie didn’t need to perform an examination to know that the wounds would be fatal. There was no time for an examination anyway, gunshots continued to ring out across the laboratory, and Agent Carter was in hot pursuit of the offender.

Mary looked at Lottie for some sort of reassurance of direction, her mouth agape, “Lottie, he's— he’s gonna die if we don’t do somethin’. C’mon, we’ve gotta help him.” Her voice came out in a whimper and her hands shook as she searched the floor for any fallen bandages. She took Mary’s trembling hands into her clammy ones, “Mary, look at his breathing. You know there’s nothing we can do for him now.”

She knew it was a heartbreaking thing to say, but Mary was a brilliant nurse; she already knew all the signs of a punctured lung. Lottie knew that she was having a hard time processing the information due to the shock that was no doubt obscuring her senses and rational thought. What Mary needed was a calm voice to guide her back from the brink of hysteria, a friend to bring her back to reality.

The nurses learned a jarring lesson about reality’s harsh nature that day; they learned of its cycle of gains and losses, successes and failures. The five nurses of Project Rebirth had achieved all that they’d been dreaming of for more than a year, they’d proven themselves to be reliable and even stellar researchers in their field. It had all been ripped away from them in a matter of moments, with the loss of their notes and serum, as well as the brutal death of Dr. Erskine. All they could do was clutch each other helplessly as they watched Steve follow the man in hot pursuit— the man who had stolen everything from them. Lottie, Mary, Betty, Nancy, and Gladys had certainly entered a new era in their careers as nurses, an era of uncertainty. With nothing left from Project Rebirth besides the Super Soldier himself, their futures were left in limbo until the Strategic Scientific Reserve could figure out what to do with them next.

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honey-dewey · 4 years ago

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(Hold me Closer) Tiny Dancer

Chapter 2

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels/Reader

Word Count: 1,293

Fic Warnings: Non-sexual age regression, split perspective, classification AU, canon-typical violence

Chapter Warnings: none?

Taglist: None for this fic. If you want to be added, just ask, but I know this is an odd topic and therefore will not tag anyone unless they ask

Jack’s not exactly the most stable human being on the planet, but when he tests as a Caregiver, all hell breaks loose as someone who was just his work partner suddenly becomes so much more.

Multi-chapter story. Chapter 2 of ? Read Chapter 1 Here

-Whiskey- Two days later, Jack was sitting through the new recruits initiation. As each recruit came through the door and earned their name, Ginger texted him about each one through his glasses.

That one’s a flirt. You two should get along.

Jack snorted under his breath as Agent Gin was given his name.

She’s a sweetheart. Young too. Barely 25.

Agent Jägermeister sat across from Jack, nodding to him. He nodded back.

The final recruit came through the door, and Jack’s breath hitched in his throat.

That’s the Little.

“And finally,” Champ handed the newest agent their hat. “Agent Mojito.”

Agent Mojito sat next to Jack, on his left. He gave them a small nudge. “Welcome to Statesman.”

Mojito smiled a tiny smile and nodded their thanks.

Jack eyed Champ, who shrugged, as if reading his mind.

Standing, Jack held a hand out to Mojito. “Why don’t I show you ‘round. Being new here, it’s a bit of a maze.”

Mojito stood, brushing their shirt off. “Thank you,” they said. “But I have an appointment with Ms. Ginger. I’m sure I’ll see you around Mr. Whiskey.”

And just like that, Jack was left alone in the conference room, wondering exactly how this would all shake out in the end.

-Mojito-

To say you were nervous about working at Statesman was an understatement. You had passed each and every test with flying colors, completely shattering the last marksman record. However, the only hitch had been your classification. Ginger had pronounced you Little, a fact you already knew. She’d seemed nervous upon telling you Statesman had no Little agents, and you’d pretty much resigned yourself to failure then and there.

But apparently Champ saw something in you, because he insisted upon you being a recruit. This meant earning your hat, glasses, and name.

Agent Mojito.

Heading down towards the lab, you met with Ginger, who was waiting in the consultation room. You slid into a chair, nerves bundling in your stomach.

“So,” Ginger passed a few papers your way. “Those are prescription forms. Check all the data over and then sign at the bottom. Once you’ve done that, we can talk about your pills.”

You signed with ease, and once you handed Ginger back the papers, she pulled out an orange bottle. “Strongest dose I can give someone of your size. Take one in the morning, preferably with food. They’re 24 hour, so you only need one a day. This bottle has thirty pills, come back when you get down to five and I’ll authorize a refill. Everything is written on the side of the bottle, so don’t worry about remembering it.” She handed you a plastic card. “That will get you access to the lab, where I will refill your pills.”

You nodded, putting the pills in your pocket. “What if I miss one?”

“One should be fine,” Ginger reassured. “But if you miss more than one, then you could possibly crash. So I suggest you keep those safe. And if you go on any missions, be sure to plan ahead with refills. If you want to drop during weekends to relax or not put too much pressure on your body, not taking your pills from Friday to Monday will work. Just be sure to take a pill Monday morning, or else all hell may break loose.”

Again, you nodded.

Ginger stood. “That should be all,” she said. “Why don’t I show you out. Statesman headquarters are a bit of a maze.”

“That’s what Agent Whiskey said,” you remembered softly. “He’s nice.”

“Huge flirt,” Ginger said with a shrug. “Just mind yourself around him, and it should be fine.”

You two walked out together, Ginger smiling at you. “I can’t wait to work with you, Agent Mojito.”

Smiling, you got into your car, heading towards your small apartment. Today had been one hell of an experience, and you couldn’t wait to get some sleep.

----

Your first official day at Statesman was a disaster.

Well, it wasn’t actually a disaster. It just seemed like one.

You took your pill during breakfast in the cafeteria, sitting alone with a book. However, your glasses pinged before you could even finish your chapter.

Champ wants you down at the shooting range. Seems important.

Sighing, you pocketed your book and picked up your travel mug of coffee. Today was already shaping up to be very interesting.

The shooting range was easy enough to find, and before you knew it, you were face to face with Whiskey once more.

“Fancy seein’ you here,” he said in that thick southern drawl you found surprisingly interesting. “I suppose you’re responsible for breakin’ my shootin’ record.”

You smirked, confidence welling in your chest. “I suppose I am.”

Whiskey whistled. “Well. Let’s see it then. Champ wants to know what you got. And honestly, so do I.”

You nodded, picking up your weapons of choice. Two beautiful custom flintlock pistols. They were Kingsman guns, a gift from your neighbors across the pond. Both were fitted with technological advances that were appropriate for someone of your status. The right pistol shot regular bullets. You could reliably get six shots out before needing to reload, and the actual flint mechanism was automatic, unless you turned it to manual. The left pistol shot specialized bullets. Electric, tracker, exploding, If Statesman made it, you could shoot it. The left pistol could also, in a pinch, be loaded with regular bullets, just as it was right now.

“Target?” You asked sweetly, watching Whiskey pick up his revolvers.

Whiskey pointed down towards the far end of the range. “Those seven dummies in blue.”

You nodded. You took some time lining yourself up on the red X taped to the floor, and when you were ready, you wiggled your stance a tiny bit more, raised your guns, and fired.

Whiskey blinked as the seven shots rang out in such quick succession he didn’t even have time to count them. All of the dummies had perfect bullet holes through them, each and every one shot with deadly accuracy.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Forget what Champ said. That hat was well earned. I ain’t even gonna try.”

You let out a breath, turning to face Whiskey. “Why thank you,” you said, calm as ever on the outside. On the inside, you were giddy with pride.

That giddiness died at lunchtime.

“Agent Mojito.” Champ approached your lunch table, and you looked up from your book. “I saw your shooting results. Heard about ‘em too. It seems we have a new best sharpshooter.”

You nodded, smiling. “Thank you.”

“That’s why I’m not hesitant about sending you on your first mission.”

Shit.

“With all due respect,” you said slowly. “Am I really ready?”

Champ raised his eyebrows. “Why don’t you tell me.”

Eventually, you agreed, and Champ handed you the file of information for the mission. Instead of reading your book, you ate your lunch and poured over the papers you’d been given, tucking the file under your arm to report to Champ’s office once you’d finished eating. You had a partner on the job, but the file didn’t mention who. It simply said a senior agent and a new recruit.

You entered Champ’s office after knocking three times, suddenly filled with nerves.

“Come in.”

“Sorry I’m late,” you apologized softly, opening the door. “I got a bit lost.”

Champ smiled. “It’s all good,” he said. “Why don’t you say hello to your partner for this mission.”

You turned to the other side of the room, veins running cold upon seeing the other agent sprawled in an armchair.

Agent Whiskey stood, adjusting his hat and nodding to you with a smirk. “Well this is gonna be interesting.”

Blinking, you softly agreed with him. “Yes. I believe it will be.”

#kingsman the golden circle #kingsman #agent whiskey #jack 'whiskey' daniels #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

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pastelpaperplanes · 4 years ago

Note

Ayo gimme a reference and personality desc. of one of your characters and I'll make a moodboard for em, I just started making em and I wanna get some practice 💖

oml you’re so sweet for offering!! I’d be happy to help out but pls PLS don’t feel like you have to make one!!

hmm let’s see Bunco might be fun!! He’s a funky little dude

as for personality, he’s very cowardly but he knows how to put in a proper poker face when the time dals for it. He’s a big fan of stand up and honestly the whole club scene, Bunco is definitely more of a rowdy crowd member rather then one to take the stage,,,,without knocking back a few drinks first ofc.

He enjoys the night time scenes and loves the constant flow of new and interesting people that wind up in his favorite hang out bars, he’s familiar with many and has a talent for spotting people in crowds, but I would say that he has very few friends!

Bunco is all smarm and charm, he’s not the most reliable guy for jobs or deadlines, but he definitely knows how to make a ‘desperate for attention’ scene on the spot if someone were in need of a getaway. His pride could spare a couple of seconds for those few friends.

Bunco enjoys overpriced drinks, roaring jazz music, neon lights, filthy jokes, funyuns, and pretty faces!

Hope this helps!!!

#yo I’ve got sm respect for those who make those aesthetic boards and mood boards #sm WORK and a whole ton of em are so pretty to look at or they have me rolling on the ground in laughter #pls feel free to tag me or shoot me a message if you do end up posting it!!✨✨#asks #cybertron’s future au #Bunco

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northoftheroad · 5 years ago

Text

The Robin 80th Anniversary Special

It's not a secret that I'm first and foremost a Dick Grayson fan, whether he comes dressed as Robin, Nightwing, Batman or something else. But I try to be charitable and be happy for fans of the other Robins that they got a pice of the birthday cake, i. e. the Robin 80th Anniversary Special.

For your enjoyment (?), here are my thoughts about the book. Spoilers ahead, obviously – don't like, don't read!

I honestly thought almost all of the stories were ok – but pretty forgettable. Marv Wolfman's spin on Dick leaving to become Nightwing, in "A little nudge" (art by Tom Grummett and Scott Hanna), is probably the only one I will remember and reference in the future. I don't know if or how it is supposed to fit into the (any?) continuity, but as far as I can see, it works nicely in the current setting.

Dick's parting from Robin and Bruce was successively portrayed as more and more hostile. When he originally left Robin to become Nightwing (1983–1984), the two still had a good relationship. This changed in comics to, first, that Bruce decided to retire Robin, and then to that Bruce outright fired Dick and kicked him out of the cave. This lead to that their relationship was portrayed as poor, antagonistic even, for a good many comics years.

The bad mood was picked up by Batman The Animated Series, where Dick left being resentful of Bruce and his methods.

I don't have a lot of good things to say about what has happened to the Bat-family after Flashpoint. But from what we've seen from scattered panels, Dick was the one who decided he wanted to leave Robin. You can read Marv Wolfman's story as confirmation of that. Which is nice.

Bruce is only a little bit of a jerk in this story, being utterly rigid about that Robin has to follow orders. Dick, however, chooses to stay with a kid that had been shot instead of following the criminals.

Dick has had it with Bruce's rules and leaves the cave, but he says "later" rather than "goodbye".

It's made clear that those strict rules were Bruce's way to say, "I know you've grown up, and you should move on; I'll be fine without you."

Batman # 408, where Bruce decides to retire Robin because he got scared when the Joker shot Dick, is firmly established in my mind as the "correct" leaving story in my mind. It was the only one I had read and knew of for many years, and the two still part on decent terms. But Marv Wolfman's 80th Anniversary version has a lot going for it.

On to the rest of the stories...

"Aftershocks" By Chuck Dixon, art Scott McDaniel and Rob Hunter.

Set during Cataclysm (a storyline from 1998) where Dick lived in Blüdhaven before he moved back to Gotham and became Batman. It's an action-filled story where (fingerstripe) Nightwing comes to Gotham after an earthquake has hit the city.

It's interesting to read this, living through the corona crisis that is going on right now. I don't know how it is where you live, but where I am, people are setting up networks to help people who can't go out to shop or walk the dog, University students are helping kids do their math lessons with the help of Facebook, people make masks for health workers etc. But when Chuck Dixon writes what happens after a catastrophe, Dick has to fight his way through masked thugs who are trying to rob an ambulance of "painkillers and tranks" when he tries to save a cab from falling with a damaged bridge. A woman is giving birth inside the car, and the story ends with that the mother wants to name the boy after Nightwing.

"Well...Robin works, right", he says.

"Team building" by Devin Grayson, art Dan Jurgens and Norm Rapund.

Well, I'll always soak up everything that has to do with Dick and the Titans – Teen Titans, New Teen Titans, Titans, any Titans...

Devin Grayson wrote The Titans 1999–2000, which is the setting of this story. Most of it takes place inside a H.I.V.E. locale, where an exasperated boss (Damien Darkh) chews out his soldiers after a fight with the Titans. But Darkh decides not to kill the lot of them, because they did distract the Titans while he stole a red crystal/power source. Of course, it turns out Dick is the soldier who has kept his helmet on; he takes the crystal with him and gives Darkh a bit of advice on team-building on his way out.

"Generally speaking, fear of execution isn't a great motivator. I've found basic team-building and morale-boosting to be much more effective. Like, I'm just spitballing here, but... You ever consider a pizza night?"

Well, it did keep me amused, and it shows us that Dick is a good leader and strategist, (and a great acrobat who manages to get out of the H.I.V.E. uniform with one hand, on the way out), although it isn't exactly a surprise that Dick was in the building when you get near the end.

"The Lesson Plan" by Tom King and Tim Seeley, art Mikel Janín.

Now, I do like some things about the Grayson run, but with a bit of distance, I've realized it was mostly the art. The sexualization of Dick and how King and Seely wrote him as a guy who jumps first and plans never got tiresome. This story is in-character for Grayson; Dick is accompanied by a girl (Paris) from St Hadrian's on a mission, and on the way, he remembers the lessons Batman gave him and imparts his own interpretation of them to Paris. As is Batman says, "plan everything", and Dick says "Improvise. Leap first... figure it all out on the way down." Ergo, classic King and Seeley. Also, it is possibly implied Dick made out with a beautiful girl that turned out to be gorilla in disguise...? Yep, vintage King and Seeley.

Other than that, I don't have a big problem with the story. Some things ring true to me – as when Dick remembers Batman saying, "At their core, people are cowardly and self-serving. Trust no one until you know them. And even then, never completely". And what Dick says is, "Give the benefit of the doubt until you gotta knock 'em out."

For my own peace of mind, I'm reading this as Dick is half-joking with his advice. It's not like we've never seen him make plans and be suspicious post-Flashpoint.

On a side note, one of the best characterizations of Dick Grayson to my mind is a panel from Black Mirror. When Dick explains he had injected James Gordon Jr with a subdermal tracer, and says about himself, "I am a softie. And I do try to see the best in people... but that doesn't mean I'm stupid."

Detective Comics # 881. By Scott Snyder, art Jock and Francesco Francavilla.

"More Time" by Judd Winnick, art Dustin Nguyen.

Jason has a cute story about him repairing Thomas Wayne's watch as a present to Bruce. He started the work as a tiny Robin (too tiny, in my opinion, but with Dustin Nguyen on art it probably couldn't turn out any other way) and finished the work as Red Hood. Jason delivers the present to Bruce on his birthday, placing it on the Batmobile while it is parked in a Gotham alley.

"Extra Credit" by Adam Beechen, art Freddie E. Williams II.

Tim has an appointment with the guidance counsellor at Gotham City High School. Tim sees a future in law enforcement (that's the first I've heard of that, but I'm no expert on Tim) and he's adopted (again, something I haven't seen post-Flashpoint). But the counsellor doubts that Tim will be admitted because he has nothing to show when it comes to extracurricular activities. It's kind of a fun few pages where the counsellor suggests things that Tim could do, and Tim thinks about what he does as Robin on his spare time.

"Boy Wonders" by James Tynion IV, art Javier Fernandez.

Tim, Red Robin, is unsure what he wants to do with his life and goes to his brothers? fellow Robins? for advice.

I know emotions have been running high because Dick tells Tim that he is "demonstrably smarter" than he is, which makes it sound as if Dick is not really smart at all.

Again, for my peace of mind, I choose to read this as I want: that "big brother" Dick is encouraging, he has always thought highly of Tim, he has no ego to preserve. This doesn't make Dick a reliable narrator on the subject, and the page ends with that Tim thinks "He was the first. He's the best. He's always going to be the role model. "So, two brothers who admire each other.

Tim also talks to Jason and Tim, and the story ends with that he tells Batman he wants to start Gotham Knights protocol, the team in Detective Comics (Rebirth.) 2016-2018.

"Fitting In" by Amy Wolfram, art Damion Scott.

Stephanie, as Robin has problems because Tim's Robin suit doesn't fit her female body. But at the end of the day, Bruce gives Stephanie her own "changing room" in the Bat-cave, because she's female.

...are Bruce and Alfred idiots? Did Dick, Jason and Tim have exactly the same body type when they were Robin? Stephanie deserved a story worth being told, not this one.

"My Best Friend" by Peter J. Tomasi, art Jorge Jimenez.

Jonathan Kent writes a school essay about his best friend, Damian. As he writes the words on his laptop at home, they are illustrated with pcitures of the two as both Robin and Superboy, and as Damian and Jon in civvies. Tomasi and Jimenez worked with Super Sons (2017–2019), and though I didn't read that, I'm pretty sure this story is an extra chapter in that series.

"Bat and Mouse" by Robbie Thompson, art Ramon Villalobos.

It's not the worst story in the book, but somehow the one I disliked the most. It is part of what is going on in Teen Titans and Bat-titles right now; we see Alfred's tombstone and how Batman and Robin have a strained relationship and difficulties in communicating. I'm not keeping up with what is going on with Damian and Bruce in detail, so I really can't say whether this story is consistent with how things have been going lately. I'll let Bruce-and-Damian fans take that ball.

To be honest, my reaction to "Bat and Mouse" is probably due to that I really, really don't like what's happened in the Bat titles lately. I firmly hope that the current situation will be changed and Alfred will be alive again, and I wish I could go back and re-read this book years from now without being reminded of this very dark time when DC seemingly doesn't want any money from me for new comics...

Being who I am, I probably take it waaaaay too seriously to try to understand where/if these stories fit in the DC continuity... The writers have probably (rightly) thought more about writing a good story than making it consistent with any grand plan for a timeline for all of the DC universe. But whatever.

The Grayson story clearly happens in a post-Flashpoint universe, as does Damian's and Tim's stories. But Tim says he's adopted, which I believe has never been said outright post-Flashpoint. And Stephanie has as far as I know not been Robin in this continuity. Chuck Dixon's Nightwing story is explicitly set during Cataclysm (a storyline from 1998) where Dick lived in Blüdhaven before he moved back to Gotham and became Batman. Post-Flashpoint, he moves to Blüdhaven for the first time in Nightwing vol 4., so Dixon's story should take place in the old continuity.

On the other hand. The last pages of the book are made to look like profile overviews in the Bat-computer and use pictures from different Robin runs. If the snippets of information are supposed to be the current continuity for the Robins, a lot from the pre-Flashpoint universe is back in canon.

Shortly, Dick was adopted (that's the word they use), formed the Teen Titans, moved to Blüdhaven and was Agent 37 for a while. Blüdhaven comes before Agent 37, but it's not explicitly stated when he first moved there. Because if Dick was in Blüdhaven before his time with Spyral, it is inconsistent with parts of Rebirth Nightwing. (Which I can live with...)

Jason's story starts as the street kid who tries to steal the tires of the Batmobile, his stint as Robin was short, and today, Red Hood has formed a tenuous alliance with Batman. Tim uncovered Batman's secret and made a bid to become the new Robin – and his new moniker "Drake" is acknowledged. Stephanie was Robin for a very short while. Damian was created with genetic material that Talia stole after a romantic tryst with Bruce, and he was bred to be an assassin.

Personally, of course, I think that Dick Grayson was worth more of an effort from DC on his 80th anniversary. But on the whole, the things we got were decent, "A little nudge" gave me something I will keep with me, and several of the covers are great.

(The cover photo is still pinched from Dan Jurgens' Twitter – I haven't bought all of the variant covers.)

#Dick Grayson #Robin #Nightwing #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #80 years with Dick Grayson

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arknights-imagines · 5 years ago

Note

The new OP's are alright to send in? If so then this ask is for May, HC her as Squad Leader under Doctors commands. Will she be alright ?

Tysm for the request anon! 🥺 And yes the new Operators are okay to send requests for! 🌸 I liked the idea of May leading a squad and she's such a cute character so I hope I did her justice!! 😭🥺 Happy reading! 🍡

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May as Squad Leader

Headcanon format; written in second person but mostly from the perspective of the Operators

Contains: May, Gender neutral Doctor who's meant to be the reader, Doctor supporting May sjsjjs 🥺

Word count: just about 1.5k!

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MAY

･ May is a bit of an oddball, afterall, not many know too much about her, since - regardless of whether it's legitimate, she's pretty busy with her detective business more often than not.

･ Still, you weren't bothered by her. In fact, on top of being quite fun to be around as a person, May had a lot of good potential and genuine intent, at least in your eyes.

･ You had faith in her, but people wondered where it came from. The Liberi wasn't exactly the most reliable Operator around, nor was she the most experienced, but everyone respected the fact that you saw potential in her.

･ With that being said, no one was expecting you to assign her as Squad Captain; not ever, really. Despite, during an Operation, everyone had turned to you for orders as expected, only to have their jaws drop at your quick order; "Ms. May is in charge until the Operation has ended."

･ Now, you were known for being a little outlandish in your plans, but to assign May in charge of everyone? Some of the Operators were mumbling about how you must've still been a little disoriented from waking up from the rescue mission in Chernobog.

･ Even May herself was taken back for a split second, almost dropping her little Taser, but the Sniper Operator recovered quickly, confident as always, "Ehehe, sure sure, I've got it!" Turning on her heel, she began pointing fingers and yelling orders, "All troops move out!! All troops move out!!"

･ You left the Operators in May's hands, but no one could really understand why in the world you were so lax about the situation. Nevertheless, they had their orders, and those were to listen to May while they carried out your tactical plan. That didn't mean they were particularly enthusiastic in listening to her, however. Thankfully, the Liberi was decent at knocking some sense into them.

･ "Heeeyy, heeeyy!! Be careful of shady people!" With that, May was off toward the front line, the others following, albeit with hesitance.

･ To their shock, she wasn't horrible at leading them. Her talk about needing to 'solve the case' and 'bring the criminals in' earned her a few lifted brows and odd looks, but her orders were easy to understand and execute, and were actually decently well thought-out.

･ "Split up!" "Observe carefully!!" "Forward!!" "Wait for my signal!" - The Liberi managed giving orders while looking out for her and everyone else's safety to impressive extent.

･ By some miracle, May and the squad she was leading took care of the threat; the mission was a success.

･ You reunited with May's little squad to find her glowing with a confident, victorious smile while the other Operators regrouped, surprise on their faces as they looked around the battlefield, almost in utter disbelief that they managed to win while following May's orders.

･ You already could see that she had done well, but you still had to ask, "May, mission report?"

･ Standing straight with her grin broadening, the Sniper Operator replied; "I'm a Royal Detective, Doctor! For me, there's no case that can't be solved!"

･ Word of May's success as Squad Leader that day spread quickly around Rhodes Island. Had she really led the team to victory? Even the Operators she had on the Squad were in disbelief, not denying or confirming anything. You, yourself would simply reply that May had successfully helped bring victory that day, and that everyone else should have a little more faith in her like you did.

･ You were very, very pleased with how her leadership that day had ended up. So much so, you had approached her a few days after with an offer.

･ "May?" The Liberi turned on her heel, suddenly brandishing her Taser out of nowhere, "Hey, hands where I can see 'em-...ah, sorry, Doctor." Your lips pulled into a small grin at her reaction - you were used to it by now.

･ May put her little Taser away before looking at you again, "I was on my way to go investigate that penguin, but did something happen?" You shook your head lightly, "No, I just wanted to ask; how would you like to be a permanent Squad Leader?"

･ The Liberi blinked, lifting a brow, "Hey, I'm a Royal Detective! And you're not my actual boss, Doctor, so why are you promoting me like this? Are you planning something shady?" Even though she was looking at you with her eyes narrowed to slits, you laughed lightly, "I'm not planning anything shady, May, I swear. You did very well on that other Operation where I left that squad under your care, and I think you'd be a great Squad Leader for our future Operations."

･ The Liberi seemed to hold back a huge grin, "Ehehe, a real Detective never fails a case, Doctor! But, mmm, about that offer…" Discreetly clearing her throat for a moment before looking back up to you with an aloof expression that was hiding one of utter joy, the Sniper Operator went on, "Well, I would be able to keep an eye out for shady people and look cool while going on all those mission as a leader, so…I accept! I'm very grateful for the opportunity; Thank you, Doctor!!"

･ You were very pleased, and May seemed excited to start. She slipped up a few times during her exams for the promotion, but after a few tries she passed with flying colours, officially being assigned as a Squad Leader under your command.

･ May's squad didn't stay the same all the time; she had a few permanent members that were always under her order, but the rest of the spots in the squad were left open and were filled with whatever Operators were also assigned to the Operation they were completing. Everyone who experienced being under her command were always pleasantly surprised with how the Liberi operated.

･ May only got better with each Operation she took part in. Soon enough, you began giving her orders and instruction less and less, and before either of you knew it, she was acting independently for almost every Operation. No one expected the outcome of the her successfully leading a Squad during tough Operations to be a good one, but no one could really complain either.

･ Amiya had spoken up about the whole ordeal one day, "Ms. May really did very well on that Operation, Doctor." She tilted her head at you as you watched May complete drills with her squad, "How did you know promoting her to Squad Leader would work out so perfectly?" You only smiled at Amiya, heart swelling a bit at the confident grin that May's lips curled into when the drill was successfully completed, replying simply, "Just a really good hunch, Amiya."

･ The Liberi was always a good addition to the team; her leadership skills had some room for improvement at times, but her optimism and her ability to adapt quickly even after failure was deserving of recognition; recognition those who experienced being part of her Squad soon began showing her.

･ The mentality regarding May being clumsy and unreliable broke with every victory she helped obtain. She received praise much more often, by experienced and inexperienced Operators alike.

･ "May, good job today." "Hey May, that could've been pretty bad, thanks for the save." "Wow, I would've never thought of that May! A great plan indeed!"

･ At any compliment she received, the Liberi smiled confidently, "Of course! A Detective never leaves the case unsolved or let's criminals escape!!"

･ Though she didn't show it too much, her joy about how successful and helpful she had really been to both you and so many other Operators was basically tangible.

･ May truly was grateful for the trust you had put in her, and with every person she gained the respect of, her motivation to do even better just grew.

･ After a particularly tough Operation, the Liberi left her squad to their own accords to go find you. When she did, you spared her a moment of your time; it looked like she had something important to tell you, after all.

･ "Doctor, there you are!" You smiled at her, "Hi May, I hope you've gotten some rest, that Operation sure was tiring." The Liberi stood straight, shaking her head a little lightheartedly, "Crime doesn't sleep, so neither can I! But Doctor, I came to say…" May quieted down a little, attitude a little more serious, "You aren't my real boss and even this promotion won't wash away any crimes you commit, but…you trusted me, and I'm grateful for you faith in me, and also…" She smiled lightly at you, "..well, it's just a hunch, but I think we have some good things ahead of us!"

･ May - and oddball she was. But you truly were proud of her, and you were beyond happy that she had come so very far. Placing a hand on her head and patting gently, you nodded, "You're very welcome May. I think we have good things waiting for us too."

･ Though she still had places she could improve, you were sure she'd be able to pull through, no matter how tough the situation.

#may is so cute sgusgdhd #arknights #arknights imagines #arknights fanfics #arknights writing #arknights may #arknights doctor #arknights code of brawl #arknights imagine #imagine #imagines #writing

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owlsoldwritingcorner · 4 years ago

Text

Honey and Oats (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Agent Whisky x Reader

Warnings/Troupes: Not much rn except Age gap relationship for future. + Enemies to lovers. lotsa angry words.

A/N: This is my second fic with any of Pedro’s characters! I’m still rewatching the movies to get a better hold of their personalities,,,

Reader Warnings (Will not be repeated onwards): Reader has set clothes like armors and masks, but not a set appearance underneath (No physical descriptions other than clothes). Had Cambodian Reader in mind. Reader is a city kid from Chicago. And some people who use gendered pronouns (only pronouns) will change but some gendered names like “Princess” and such will stay.

AO3 Link

{First} {Next} {Masterlist}

As usual, Tequila’s the rough ‘em up and rough ‘em up even more kinda guy. The two crashers were two Brits saying something about being invited. Of course, them hacking through the biometric system and putting a hole in the older whiskey reserves wasn't the nicest way of coming in, but, knocking them out before they could fully explain themselves wasn’t either. (Also, you had to admit though. The younger one of the two was pretty cute.) That reminds you, maybe they’re with the other Brit that Ginger and Tequila helped a couple weeks prior… Is that racist?

You and Ginger headed to the Doomsday locker. Ginger said something about the two mentioning Kingsman and how it’s the branch to Statesman and so on. But you just had one question on your mind.

“So, why can’t we go with their story again? They looked pretty desperate, Ging’. Desperate people don’t usually lie when trying to find help.” You leaned back in the chair you sat, legs crossed and right on the table top. You watched Ginger fumble around a bit as she placed the small emblem in her hands into the similarly shaped socket.

“Rum. You can never be too sure. For all we know, they could be using stolen clothes and identities.” She reminded you as she started opening the lock. You just pouted, not to toot your own horn but, in situations like these you had a pretty good gut on who to trust. And anyway, fancy lookin’ men like that don’t come to the farmy south unless they were looking to buy land.

Finally, Ginger opened the doomsday lock, turning around, she revealed a very fancy looking umbrella. On the handle revealed the familiar name of…

Kingsman, London.

“Fuckin’ hell.” You and Ginger ran out of that chamber as fast as you two could. At this point, Tequila’s probably gonna show them his favorite magic trick of turning balls into ash.

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Ginger opened the door just as you heard Tequila’s baritone voice counted up to three.

“Stop!” You and Ginger moved between the tall cowboy and the strapped down men. “Their story checked out.” The woman quickly grabbed some towels to pat down the sitting men’s laps. You leaned against the nearby desk while watching everything unfold.

“We opened our Doomsday scenario locker and that umbrella was in it,” You tossed the agent the umbrella in question before stepping out of the sitting men’s view. “Kingsman. It’s got our logo on it.” You gave the two a bit of a smug look as if to tell them ‘I told you so’. Ginger subtly rolled her eyes at your winning smirk before apologizing to the two men. On the other hand, Tequila just laughed the situation off as if he wasn’t planning on shooting their friend dead center in the head a few seconds prior. The ‘no hard feelings but it was just my job’ kinda talk.

“Welcome to statesman. Independent Intelligence agency. Just like y’all I reckon. But our founders went into the booze business. Thank the sweet lord above.” The cowboy looked up to the ceiling as if to thank Jesus himself for that plan before pointing to Ginger with the umbrella.

“This is Ginger Ale. She’s our strategy Executive.” She gave them a short nod and a polite ‘hello’ just before Tequila pointed to you.

“This here’s Agent Rum. Sh-- They. They’re not the most talkative with most folks, but they sure as hell know how to get the job done.” You gave the men an awkward wave.

“And I’m Agent Tequila.” And with an award winning smile, he sticks the landing. Unfortunately for him, the crowd still remembers the fact they almost got their balls turned to ash by this cowboy so they’re just gonna pass on the whole innocent smile situation. The cuter one of the two already looks exasperated, relieved that the introductions are finally over.

“This is the part where you untie us.”

The moment the two men were freed from their ziptied hell and whisky stained pants, they zoomed past the three of you to reach their one eyed friend. The three of you sat down as you watched the reintroduction quickly turn bittersweet.

“So these fellas right here are our Doomsday protocol?”

“Turns out, our founder’s tailor was Kingsman.”

“Why couldn’t we have gotten those fancy suits?” Tequila looked at you in utter betrayal.

“Hey, these clothes are nice an’ all but I dunno. Those suits are real nice lookin--”

“What the fuck have you done to him?”The men returned to the room with angered faces.

Ginger explained to the two that the Statesman only have been trying to help the poor man. But since they couldn’t jog his memory with the amnesia and all, there’s not much that can be done. All that the agency knew was that mister butterfly collector was part of intelligence but not whose. Honestly the three of them were lucky Ginger was as quick as she was otherwise he would’ve counted as another one of the casualties in that damned church.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------You and Tequila escorted the younger man that introduced himself as Eggsy, otherwise known as Agent Galahad, to Champ. The moment the three of you entered the room, Champ was already scolding Tequila about his interrogation skills before introducing himself. To apologize for the inconvenience Tequila caused the two men, Champ placed the Statesman’s larger resources at their disposal just before looking at ole’ ‘reliable’ Whiskey with an amused smile.

“Could you imagine us in the clothing business?” You rolled your eyes at the other man’s chuckle. It’s been ten seconds and you were already tired of lookin’ at Whisky dick. Tequila could already see your annoyance with the other man and quickly thought of something to distract you with.

“Hey, real quick, Rum? Could you play bartender?”

“Sure,” Anything to keep you from looking at the man more than you already have to. You turned towards the little drink making station where all the mixers and some bottles were already set up.

“Got a drink in mind?”

“Bartender’s choice.” A Sour Henry cocktail it is. A Whisky sour with more than a little bitters would be too on the nose.

Eggsy thanked the bossman senior and explained whoever attacked the Kingsman agents was most likely planning for something bigger and that a former trainee of theirs is working with those part of the Golden circle. Said trainee’s ex is still in contact with him and just so happens to be attending a concert.

You listened closely to what Eggsy was saying, trying to figure out why the golden circle sounded so familiar, as you finally poured the drink in Tequila’s cup. However, your thought process was cut through by something you noticed on the statesman agent. Just as Tequila thanked you and took a swing of his drink, your eyes caught a glimpse of the growing blue veins protruding from his neck.

“Ay Tequila, you feelin’ alright?”

“Yeah, a bit tired, but fine, thanks.” At this point, Champ could see the blue veins on the man too.

“Your face…You got… ” Tequila finally looked at himself through the cup’s reflection.

“What the fuck?” Champ ordered him to head to the med bay before whatever it was got any worse but not before having Tequila give Eggsy his glasses. It would be a bit awkward to converse with someone and not see them in this situation.

Champ let out a hefty sigh before giving you and Whisky a sorry look.

“Now, Agent Rum. I know you and Whisky sure as hell aren’t peas in a pod--” You already knew where this dumb talk was going.

“You cannot be serious with me, Champ.” If looks could kill, that old man would have croaked a month prior.

“You’re a talented agent. But you’re reckless. Whiskey is going to watch over the two of you--”

“I don’t need no fuckin’ babysitter, Champ!” You slammed your fist on the tabletop out of anger, toppling over a few of the cups. Eggsy was surprised at the tonal shift from you. Well, he’s even more surprised you talk to your superior that way and he doesn’t even blink an eye.

“He’s the only other agent with enough experience for the case. One job together ain’t gonna kill the two of you.”

“I’ve got enough experience on my hands, I can handle it!”

“Agent Whisky is going to join the two of you and that’s final.” You opened your mouth but quickly shut it. Even you can’t say anything when Champ’s got the final word in. You could only glare as Whisky gave you the most smug smirk known to man.

“Agent Galahad, our finest senior agent will be joining the two of you. Right now he’s in our New York office.” Mister Boss points at Whisky’s hologram once Eggsy puts on the glasses.

“Galahad, meet Agent Whisky.” God. You just want to strangle that stupid cowboy with his own fuckin’ moustache.

“Kid, looks like we’re hookin’ up with a chick at a rock concert.” He gives Eggsy one of his dumb signature smiles. “My favorite kind of mission.” You could only roll your eyes at the flirtatious man’s comment.

“I’m sending my jet to pick you two up.”

“The old man’s gonna croak before he could get his whisky dick into anything.” You muttered right before Champ gave you an incredulous look.

“Rum, there ain’t no need to hit a man’s pride like that.”

“It’s fine, Champ. Little Miss spitfire over here is just envious--”

“Of what? Da women who are with ya’ for under ten minutes in bed while I’m stuck with ya’ here fer hours? ‘Course I am.” And with the small twitch of that moustached lip, that was enough to tell you even a little bit of his pride was hurt.

“Rum!”

“Watch it lil’ city girl, your Chicago’s comin’ out. That place was never the best about its manners.” Nothin’ but smirk from this old man, as if you didn’t just insult his libido. He really just had to insult your home. You took a deep breath.

“Unlike you, I was raised properly.” You gave Whisky a final haunting stare. “You,” Standing on the opposite end of where Whisky sat, you got right up in his stoic, holographic space. “Were dragged through a whore house.” You turned your back on the man, mentally patting yourself on the back for getting the final word. Just as you got to the doorway, you turned to the British agent.

“Galahad? Let’s get a move on.”

“Oh--Oh! Right.” Eggsy quickly got up and followed you out the door. Leaving Champ very exhausted at his decision. He only hopes the two of you don’t kill each other first before they could figure this situation out.

#agent whiskey #Pedro Characters #x reader #Agent whiskey x reader #Honey and Oats #Kingsman #My writing #pedro pascal #Jack Whiskey Daniels

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au-tumn-al · 5 years ago

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So after 110 hours, I finally beat Persona 5 Royal. Before going into complete FFVII mode, I wanna lay out all my thoughts.

Blah, blah, blah, spoilers for everything under the cut.

To start off, I loved Royal. The gameplay was so much fun and it felt like such a natural evolution from vanilla P5. Probably my favorite change was what wad done with Baton Pass. Trying to pass to your entire party was very fun and very satisfying, especially if Joker got the ×4 or even ×3 and got to abuse a possibly charged Hassou Tobi lategame. It was pretty broken, but I don't mind things being broken once you go to the effort of figuring things out. Speaking of broken things—

Showtime attacks are super cool. I didn't know what to think of them at first because of how stupidly strong they are, but after I got to some harder boss fights where doing about 1k damage per attack would only get rid of about a small fraction of the shadow's health, I wasn't complaining.

(Also, I never actually got to see Joker and Violet's showtime. Oops.)

The fact that the damage scaled like that was really good, especially once you get into the third semester where party members have severe and colossal damage moves and even healer Morgana can do 150 damage per basic attack without buffs on an enemy without debuffs. The enemies' damage output remained kind of sad though, but uh....you can't win 'em all ;;

To finish showtime talk, Joker and Crow's showtime was heccin' great. I never skipped it. It was Batman in my animu JRPG so it was 10/10. It also did way more damage than most of my party members' showtime attacks so ey. It finished off that Yoshitsune request boss too with around 2.4k damage so I'm obligated to like it. On that note, how is showtime damage calculated? Do certain showtimes do more damage, or does it just depend on the offensive stats of the party members using it?

Technical damage was beefed up too, and I probably should have tried to take advantage of it more than I did but I never figured out how to make technical damage reliably knock an enemy down. I know that there was a way to do it but I never figured it out. Yes, yes, I know it was because I skipped tutorials but everything else was so busted, I never felt the need to go back and read said tutorials. I did read that book about technical damage though in-game, but it just added more technical combinations.

Onto other changes though, it could have been because I was playing on hard, but status ailments became about 10 times more useful. ...Actually, no, it was definitely because I was playing on hard, but even so, I felt like more bosses were weak to them when compared to P5. They went back to being mostly immune to them, especially in the new semester, but during and before October or so, status ailments became invaluable. It could have been because I sucked that much, but my party members, and even sometimes Joker, would get left with double or even single digit HP by near everything, even if I debuffed and buffed. Queen got regulated to a forget bot, but man it carried me through some boss fights. ... i.e., Kaneshiro's fight. Well, that and Mona's confuse.

I liked the Will Seeds too. They were a fun way to kind of change up the palaces and for me to hunt down. Even though yeah, they are pretty broken (especially with the accessory you get from the 2nd palace being able to get rid of elemental weaknesses for whoever has it equipped, not to mention the ability to give charge or concentrate to another party member), I still can't say I used them over my SP adhesives most of the time. I used the one that got rid of elemental weaknesses on Crow, but that was just because I could only use him and Joker at the time and did not want enemies to get another move on him to get another chance to hit either of them.

The changes to Mementos were amazing. Like the rest of them, they were pretty busted, but still. Amazing. I feel like I'm in the minority with this, but I didn't mind Mementos. In fact, I kind of liked going through the grind of going through it. Although...tbf, I kind of liked Tartarus too. Its 264 floors were a bit much, but I liked being able to turn off my brain, put on a podcast or YouTube video in the background for me to listen to then go through Tartarus in one or two in-game nights.

Back to Mementos, collecting stamps and flowers for Jose was fun, and being able to change the cognition for Mementos was busted. Since you can get EXP from auto-killing, you get over-leveled very fast. It doesn't help that you have to backtrack floors for stamps since they randomly generate, so you get even more money, experience, and items. On the bright side though, no, I didn't need to wander around singing "I've Been Working on the Railroad" with Mona and Skull for an hour and a half trying to find the materials for the Eternal Lockpick (which was renamed in Royal to Permapick ... I guess???)

Because of the changes you can make to boost item, money, and EXP gains, Mementos became the prime grinding area. Even more than the card shuffle thing in P3. Since you got so much EXP from ramming shadows even without leveling up EXP gain. I put all my stamps into getting more items and money until I couldn't anymore and I had near max every single crafting item, and never had to worry about the cost of anything ever. Combined with the money gains from killing shadows, you can also pick up sellable treasure from the item cubes in Mementos and it can end up selling for well over a million yen. So getting to max didn't even require Joker abusing the confuse status ailment or abusing the shadows with "You can do better than that."

I didn't mind the Mementos music, even when I was playing the game without something else playing for me to listen to, but now that Mementos does have new music, yeah, I realize now how much better it is. I wouldn't listen to it alone like I would Rivers in the Desert or anything, but it was a nice change. I listened to one of the songs before the game had its western release and didn't like it all that much, but actually playing the game while hearing it made me actually like it.

I got to level 99 though before the game was over. It made it so Joker and Crow were able to tag-team the Reaper then kill it in 3 turns. I had thought that trophy would have been a lot harder to get lol. It was pretty weird seeing the Reaper in such clear lighting though due to the new Mementos area though, I have to say.

Onto the bosses though...

I loved the changes to the bosses (except the 5th one but that's just because I hate everything about the 5th palace, even if Royal did make it about a million times more bearable).

Kameshida having cognitive Shiho and Mishima as helpers for the boss fight was such a good change, and made him about that much more hateable.

Madarame's boss fight in vanilla P5 was the hardest boss in the game for me, even on normal mode, but it was made so much easier in P5R. Madarame didn't bring back his painting form, but instead brought back elemental versions of himself specifically so the player can abuse Baton Pass. Baton Pass combos are extremely satisfying to pull off, so I enjoyed it immensely. Honestly, having that as the second boss in the game was so much of a better decision than what was in P5. That, or I'm still salty about all the deaths I had from fighting him the first time.

Kaneshiro was definitely harder, and I was a little stuck when he called his cronies out to guard him. Mona and Queen using confuse and forget while Skull and Joker attacked Kaneshiro made it a lot more bearable though. I also kept using spotlights on Joker so the enemies would attack him. He had Shiki Ouji equipped and they only ever did physical moves when my status effects missed, so I was never at risk for losing the fight. ... And then of course Skull and Queen finished it off with a showtime attack after Mona got yeeted.

Sphinx mom was a lot easier. I didn't know that the right dialogue choices made it so Oracle would guard you until someone told me, so I was sitting there surprised at how much easier it was lol. I did get stuck at the end though because it didn't look like I was damaging it. I thought Oracle needed to bring back the crossbow so I just kept buffing and healing. It took about 10 minutes for me to get bored and start attacking it again and it turned out I could attack it, but it was just that sphinx mom's HP wasn't visually moving before eventually going down. Joker still used Shiki Ouji which had learned an immunity to wind so. Easy victory (ignoring the part where I'm a dumbass).

I switched to easy mode for Okumura. I just did not care at all. I hate his palace, I hate the music, and the enemies could range from being easier to kill than the enemies in the first palace to being a pain in the ass, so I wanted to have it be over. If I didn't have an unreasonable hatred for the 5th palace though, I probably would have liked the change. It was challenging without being complete BS, at least much more challenging than how it was originally in P5. Having the enemies run off though did get pretty annoying when I was trying to beat it legit but I was just so done at that point, it was more on me than the game lol.

Part of the reason why I was so eager to get through Okumura's palace though was to get to Sae's palace. Because I love Sae's palace, and just in general, the entire month of November. It has amazing story bits, still the height of P5's story if you ask me, a great palace, and Whims of Fate is one of my favorite tracks from P5's OST. Sae's boss was even changed to when she spins the wheel, whatever element it goes to, she uses that element and her resistances would change. I loved that, and it was extremely fun to take what you more or less should have learned about enemies' attacks and their correlating weaknesses and use them for a boss fight. So much better than the original where you don't need strategy at all other than "hit her hard lol."

Shido's boss fight was changed to be super climactic. They made it easier for the sake of Joker being able to confront the dude that got him a criminal record and directly ruining his life, and I can't complain. It felt amazing to 1v1 him. The game fixed the possibility of being screwed by it by having him attack in a certain order like the twins do in their special fight, so that was nice at least.

Yaldabaoth's boss fight was the same. Still easy enough, as long as you're careful. Or...not careful but extremely lucky. I wasn't able to finish it off while it was charging up its almighty attack, but my entire party ended up dodging it so it didn't even matter lmao. Now that I think about it, it very easily could have been because of that one Will Seed accessory that makes you dodge attacks but... I don't care. I was still super lucky I didn't get wiped and be forced to start the fight over starting from the Holy Grail.

The new boss... Uhm... It was taking way too long so I ended up cheesing it with Haru's third persona's new move that basically makes you invincible for a turn halfway through the fight. ^^; Noir was a Vault Guardian bot, Queen just healed and took advantage of one of the tentscles' nuclear weaknesses to Baton Pass to Crow when she could, and then Joker and Crow did all the work. Crow's third tier persona's almighty move kicked ass and you know what else kicked ass? Hassou Tobi abuse. The other 2 phases weren't even really fights, so at least that kept it from dragging too much, despite all the phases it had.

When Joker and the boss had that punch-out fight though, I lost my shit. I was laughing so hard I started to cry and my back was hurting. I don't even remember why I thought it was so funny, but I was laughing my ass off. I couldn't even press X to get Joker to punch because I was laughing so hard. Right before it happened, I joked to my sister that a tutorial would pop up and suddenly the gameplay will have the controls from that P4 fighting game and you have to learn that in order to have one last showdown. And then I got the prompt to punch. Then Joker punched. And I started laughing.

11/10 would punch Adam Kadmon man again

On the topic of the new stuff though...

Kasumi/Sumire/Violet was pretty fun to use but badly, badly overshadowed by both Joker and Crow, at least during boss fights. She offered to join the party before Shido's palace and she really should have joined then. Maybe she would just be absent for the Mementos dungeon & Yaldabaoth/Holy Grail boss fights, but she should have been there for Shido's palace. I liked her wanted gimmick of being the crit'er, but when you get her, Mona's third tier persona learns an AOE Lucky Punch, Joker already has high crit, and I would always baton pass to Crow because of his severe almighty AOE ×3. Plus, the way I built my Joker with practically exclusively two personas, Yoshitsune and Kuguya Picaro, he was already the phys and light attacker except with the addition of being able to have an auto-concentrate at the start of every fight (I have no idea why—it's something with Yoshitsune but idk what it is), the charge skill, Yoshitsune's nature of tripling the effect of charge, and the additional electric damage. She should have been a party member before the new semester. Obviously this isn't the case for everyone, but for me personally, I didn't often find use for her, especially since she can't do colossal or even severe magic damage. She is a very good physical party member, but again, Joker already covers that better than any other party member can, including Skull.

Crow was a great party member though. I used him in every request and boss fight after I got him. I was a little salty he couldn't switch back and forth from Loki and Robin Hood but I suppose if he did, he'd make Violet even more obsolete lol. I liked Loki while playing P3, so I'm glad I was able to use that persona again. He had Debilitate which was amazing. Queen learns Checkmate when getting to the third tier persona, which is an AOE version of it, but honestly, whenever I was fighting a boss that I thought needed it at that point in the game, I didn't need it to be multi-hitting. Plus, it costed about 90 SP and no way I was using that over her healing, defense buffs, and nuclear damage.

But anyway, back to Crow, I loved using him. He basically turned into my almighty damage dealer, even with his somewhat weaker magic, at least compared to his strength stat, but considering the final boss fight, it was extremely helpful. It did take up a lot of SP, but I had 5 Somas, a ton of SP restoratives, and had basically asked Kawakami to make me either curry or coffee every single night I was able to, so I pretty much had an infinite supply of it.

It helped that P5R made Akechi a much more likable character too. I liked him all right in P5, but didn't find him all that sympathetic, and thought that the characters treating him so sympathetically was extremely jarring considering all the horrible shit he did (which includes making orphans of both Haru and Futaba). That still kind of holds true, but since you can actually build a social link with him outside of the story, you can see more of his character and it improved him in leaps and bounds. Not to mention that his 8th confidant rank was....something else ^^; having a section of the new story too with just Joker and Akechi, (and kind of Sumire too, but mostly just those two) was awesome. I loved seeing them team up to punch Adam Kadmon man in the face. Plus, having more time with him in the Phantom Thieves without pretense had him going "I am surrounded by idiots" basically the whole time he was there. Like—I even felt disappointed that Akechi was actually dead and he didn't survive. That's a huge improvement over from me wishing one of the dialogue options was "fuck you lmao" during his death scene at the end of Shido's palace when he asked the Phantom Thieves to promise him to change Shido's heart.

For Sumire though, she had a good character arc. Like her gameplay though, she was badly overshadowed by both Akechi and Maruki. Even still, I liked her character arc and everything, and her social link. Even if I ended up liking Kasumi more in the end anyway rip

That's kind of all I have to say about her, oof. She was good, but other elements took attention away from her pretty badly.

Maruki though... Maruki was amazing. He was a fantastic antagonist because I got to punch him in the face, his palace was amazing, I loved the music, the different sections were cool, and I even liked the color maze bridge puzzle thing. I definitely wouldn't like it so much if I ever replayed it, especially if I try to get that final Will Seed, which wasn't hard, but did take kind of a while, but I don't think I will be so it's not a problem.

He had such good motivations, and the fact that he didn't ever actually hurt anyone other than when he punched Joker in the face made him really sympathetic and redeemable to me. At the end of the day, all he actually wanted to do was make people happy and not have to suffer, and was willing to destroy himself in order to achieve it. But just like with every belief, it went too far and he took away people's free will and ability to pick for themselves. The kind of moral question about the entire thing was very interesting, and I kind of wish it was more further addressed. There should have been Sojiro or some other character that was perfectly happy in Maruki's alternate reality so they could challenge the Phantom Thieves in a way Maruki wasn't able to. Still, what was done was really good and I liked it a lot.

...

Even all that said, I have no idea why the hell Joker could not use Satanael. There was such a perfect opportunity to use it once Maruki evolved his persona to Adam Kadmon, a giant persona. Hell, it was still small when compared to Satanael. It's after beating Yaldabaoth so Joker should have access to it. It would have been epic to be able to use a giant Satanael in a normal-ish boss fight. I'm sure there are some explanations as to why, but the game never mentions it or even acknowledges Satanael so it doesn't count and I'm still bitter. The writers forgot that Joker has a persona literally as big as a cognitive god and that kind of broke some immersion for me. Immersion completely went out the window once Joker and Maruki started punching each other but STILL. Satanael's not that great a persona, but having it show up in the story again would have been so awesome to use a persona about as big as Shibuya more than once.

Hardly comparable to my beef about Satanael, but I wish that while the party members were acting as Phantom Thieves, or at least while they're in the metaverse, the names on their text boxes would change to their Phantom Thief names. There's no reason why they didn't, especially since the characters exclusively use their Phantom Thief names to call each other anyway. It's not a huge deal or anything, but I would have liked it.

I loved Royal, and totally think it's better than P5 vanilla. Its new semester kind of takes away from the superb ending of the vanilla game, but the new stuff still makes up for it. Don't get me wrong, you can still get the original ending from the vanilla game in Royal, at least I'm pretty sure you can, but it involves you missing out on all the new content, including Violet as a party member and getting Crow back, plus Joker's showtimes so it's not worth it imo

I wasn't actually looking forward to the game when it was announced, or even planning on getting it, but I had the Phantom Thieves' edition pre-ordered for me as a Christmas present so I wasn't going to...not play it lol. I'm extremely glad I got it though, even if I otherwise wouldn't have, and now that I have finished it, I'm very happy with the game. The gameplay's improved by leaps and bounds, and the new content was all amazing.

... And I got to punch Maruki in the face.

I did end up getting the platinum trophy for Royal too, so despite the Phantom Thieves den thing, I don't see myself going back to it, at least any time soon. It was an amazing experience, but I can set my sights back to FFVII now lol.

...Although, I did hear you can fight the twins and Lavenza so uhhh maybe i won't be shelfing it so soon—

#persona 5 royal #persona #p5r spoilers #personal #long post

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chungledown-bimothy · 5 years ago

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Keep Talking, Oh, Keep Talking

So, I know it’s been FOREVER since I posted any writing, and that’s mostly because I was working on this @sanderssantas fic for @mewithanie! So sorry about how long it’s been, and hopefully I’ll be posting things again slightly more often lol

I had so much fun writing this! Happy holidays, mewithanie! <3

AO3 Masterlist

Summary: Patton and Virgil were deliriously in love and didn’t think they could get any happier. Enter Logan, Virgil’s tutor.

Warnings: alcohol use, slight intoxication.

Pairing(s): established moxiety into analogicality

Word Count: 2,647 (plus 2 fake-texts images)

Tag List: @ren-allen @ccecode @emo-sanders-sides-loving-unicorn @ilovemygaydad @bloodropsblog @funsizedgremlin @raygelkitty @roxiefox23 @thomasthesandersengine

Patton loved his boyfriends. He loved them so much that sometimes, when he thought about them, his heart would race, his knees would go weak, and his head would spin. Especially since Logan joined the relationship.

Patton and Virgil met the first day of college, in their shared psychology class. It wasn't long until they started dating, and a year later, they moved in together. Patton had known for years that he was polyamorous, but he kept that to himself, because he was blissfully happy with Virgil, and it was never relevant. Until the second semester after they moved in together, that is.

--------------------------

Eight Months Ago

Fifteen minutes later, Virgil walked through the front door of the apartment and was immediately caught in a bear hug.

"Well hello to you too," Virgil laughed, despite his terrible mood.

"What, a guy can't be excited to see his favorite stormcloud?" Patton looked up at him, his expression just a little bit too innocent.

"Patton, what did you do?" Virgil questioned, remembering the cupcake tower Patton made the night before their first set of final exams together and the time he came home from his first therapy session to find the living room covered in fairy lights.

"Nothing major; I promise. Come look!" Patton took him by the hand and practically dragged him into the kitchen. "See? Just a lasagna. Let's eat while you tell me about your meeting and this mysterious Logan guy."

Virgil got a couple plates and served the lasagna as he started talking. "Turns out, he's in my class. I've mentioned front-and-center-nerd before, yeah?" Patton laughed.

"Dresses more professionally than the teacher, kinda cute but also seems stuck up?"

"Yep, that's the guy. He's a lot chiller than I thought he'd be. Anyway, we're gonna meet after class every Wednesday for the rest of the semester."

"I'm sure it's gonna go great!"

Five Months Ago

"Hi, I'm Patton! Nice to meet you; Virgil has said such wonderful things about you!" Patton half-yelled over the music playing at the bar.

"Oh, erm, hello. I am Logan, although clearly you already knew that. Virgil has spoken highly of you as well." Logan fought the impulse to adjust his tie. Patton opened his mouth to say something else, but Virgil arrived with their drinks, passing them out as he sat down.

"Alright, we've got a whiskey neat for Logan, some IPA that the bartender recommended for you, Pat, and a rum and Coke for me. Honestly, though, Patton, I don't get how you can drink those. I had a sip of yours on my way over, and it was awful."

Patton laughed. "Yeah, they're not for everyone, but I like 'em! And it's hard to drink too many of them, unlike your drinks, so I don't get super drunk- my tolerance is garbage. Anyway," he continued with a mock glare at his boyfriend, "we aren't here to make fun of the way I drink, we're here to celebrate Virgil!" He raised his glass.

"Indeed. It has been an honor working with you this past semester, Virgil, and I am proud to see your hard work pay off," Logan added, raising his glass as well.

Virgil blushed and refused to look at either of them. "I barely got a B+, that's hardly a reason to celebrate," he mumbled.

"Falsehood. Truthfully, when we began working together, I doubted that you would be able to achieve higher than a C. You worked incredibly hard, not only on the subject matter, but on how you approached studying. Your dedication is truly inspiring."

"Hear hear! Virge, I know how hard this class has been on you. You've worked that cute butt of yours off for it, and that alone deserves celebration, even before you take into account how much that hard work paid off! But if it helps, we can call this a general post-finals celebration, okay?" Patton was rewarded with a grateful smile.

"You guys deserve to be celebrated too. Logan, you have been so incredibly patient with me; I know that I'm not exactly the most pleasant to be around when I get frustrated, so, thanks for sticking with me, I guess. And Pat, you've had my back since day one. I love you more than I could ever say, baby." He pressed a sweet kiss to Patton's cheek, and Logan was suddenly very interested in his drink.

"Loooogan has anyone told you how pretty you are?" Patton hit his hands on the table, almost knocking over the glass that once contained a strawberry daiquiri; he'd decided he wanted something sweeter after two beers.

"No no no no, the prettiest one here is Virgil. Those cheekbones have got to be illegal somewhere," Logan wasn't any more sober, two whiskeys in. "And his face when he's focusing on studying is just the cutest thing everrr."

"Oh I know! Have you seen him do the thing where he sticks his tongue out a little bit when he's really concentrating?" Patton was practically bouncing in his seat, continuing to be a danger to the glasses.

"Dear Newton yes! I had to excuse myself and get a drink of water the first time I saw him do it."

"Wait, that's why you left? I thought it was because you were getting frustrated with how long it was taking me to get it!" Virgil chimed in, astonished.

"Sounds like he was some sort of frustrated alright," Patton muttered.

"Look. We all know that Virgil is an incredibly attractive man, and I am a simple homosexual. That said, Patton, I apologize for the… less than appropriate thoughts I may have had before I knew that he was in a relationship at all, let alone one as objectively adorable as yours."

Patton giggled. "No worries, Lolo! Like you said, my man is an entire three-course meal, and it would be silly of me to hold natural, human thoughts against you! And besides, you weren't the only one in those study sessions with some interesting thoughts, right Virgey?"

"Oh my god Patton I cannot believe you just said that!" Virgil hid his flaming blush behind his hands.

"Oops! Sorry, V!"

"You- you're okay with that? Your boyfriend and a stranger having lewd thoughts about each other?" Logan asked.

"Well yeah! I'm not the jealous type, and I trust Virgil. What's important to me is open and honest communication, and he told me about his attraction to you almost immediately. Plus, in all honesty, I found it kinda hot, especially once he showed me a picture of you."

Logan looked to Virgil and raised an eyebrow. Virgil game the same look to Patton, who, after a moment of confusion and then realization, nodded slightly and leaned back in his chair. Once Patton gave his blessing, Virgil leaned in and kissed Logan, soft and unsure. After they separated, Logan approached Patton and, after receiving another nod of consent, pressed a similar kiss to his lips.

The next morning

"So… can we talk about what happened last night?" Patton asked sweetly over breakfast.

"Oh my god are you actually not okay with it? Patton, I'm so sorry I shouldn't have-"

"Hey, Virgil, no, I really did mean that it was okay. More than okay, even. In fact, I think now is a good time to tell you that I'm polyamorous. I had a lot of fun hanging out with Logan last night, and I'd like to get to know him better. And clearly you are both into each other. I love you so much, and I just want you to be happy. If you want to, I think at least a conversation with Logan about it couldn't hurt."

Virgil sat in silence, sipping his coffee occasionally, for several minutes before speaking. "Pat, I love you more than I can possibly say. I'm honestly not surprised that you're polyam; you have so much love to give. I, uh, I actually am too. So, uh, I guess I'll call Logan? See if he wants to get lunch or something?"

"Aww yay! Okay, I'm gonna go take a shower real quick." Patton kissed Virgil quickly on the cheek on his way out of the room.

Virgil took a steadying breath and took out his phone.

Logan straightened his tie and cleared his throat. "If I am understanding this correctly, you are both polyamorous and… wish for me to join your relationship?"

"Not so formally, but yeah? Last night, it was clear we all find each other hot. Which, like, duh, you're both gorgeous and sometimes I look pretty okay. Not now, Pat." Virgil preempted Patton's interruption without looking away from Logan. "I like you a lot, and I think you and Patton would also get along really well. So, uh, yeah, this is us asking you out. Not asking for any sort of commitment or anything, just hanging out and going on dates and stuff. You know, normal dating stuff. Just… with two of us."

"Only if you want to! And if you wanted to just date Virgil, I'd be completely okay with that too, but I had a lot of fun last night, and I'd love to get to know you better."

A tense moment of silence later, Logan spoke. "Let me begin by saying how flattered I am by your interest, both of you. While I am… inclined to accept your invitation to date both of you, I have never put much thought into my own feelings about polyamory for myself. Obviously, it is a completely normal and rational thing; my hesitation is in how I might fit into your so well-established relationship. Additionally, feelings do not come easily to me, and I find them exceedingly frustrating trying to understand. I have been reliably informed that this makes me a poor romantic partner." He took a breath and adjusted his tie.

"I have noticed that you are both quite vocally and physically publicly affectionate with each other, and I wonder whether my reticence with such displays would leave you unhappy with me. I have historically struggled to show adequate affection to just one person; I cannot imagine I would be able to give you both the kind of affection you seem to crave. In short, while I would like to accept, I currently cannot see it ending in anything but significant emotional distress for all of us. I apologize, most sincerely."

"I think I can safely speak for both of us when I say that we appreciate your honesty," Patton began gently. "Can I address some of your points?" Logan gave him a confused look, but nodded. "Thank you! So, it seems like your big concern is that you're afraid your emotional reticence would in some way hurt us or leave us unsatisfied. Am I understanding that right?" He waited for another nod before continuing. "To be honest, Lo, that's just silly. Are you familiar with Gary Chapman's concept of love languages?" Logan shook his head.

"Chapman posited that there are five ways people experience and express love- gifts, quality time, acts of service, words of affirmation, and physical touch- and everyone prefers to give and receive one or two of them over the others. Mine is words of affirmation, and Virgil's is physical touch; that's why we are as outwardly affectionate as we are. Trying to force a partner to 'speak' your language and not their own is just going to make everyone unhappy; healthy relationships require everyone involved to understand what the others need and want. We would never try to force you into anything you aren't comfortable with. We want to date you, Logan, not some version of you that pretends to be something or someone you aren't. If you let us, we'd love to learn your love language and not ask or expect anything else of you."

"Also," Virgil chimed in, "as to your worry about how you'd fit? Not a worry at all. I love Patton so much, and his energy and positivity makes me feel so good most of the time, but sometimes it can be... a bit much. He's wonderful at giving me space when I want it, but I know that I'd enjoy having someone else around who's more grounded. On the other hand, I remember quite a few study sessions that got diverted by you going on a tangent about something you love. If you think that passion isn't something Patton is going to join you in, you're incredibly wrong. And I think that his energy will help draw you out of that thick shell of yours, while I'll always be a more down-to-earth realist with you. I think we'd all be great for each other, if you're willing to give us the chance to show you. Only if you want to, though. One word, and we'll shut up about it forever." He gave Logan an anxious smile.

"In the face of such reasonable responses to my concerns, I suppose I have no choice but to gladly accept." Virgil and Patton both silently melted at the pure joy in Logan's smile. Well, Virgil was silent. Patton let out a squeal of delight that only dogs could hear.

---------------------

Present

Patton loved his boyfriends so much, just remembering the beginning of their story made him dizzy. Wait. No. Bad dizzy. I need to- he collapsed on the bathroom floor with a resounding THUD.

THUD

Virgil jumped out of his seat. "Logan? Patton??" he called as he ran from their bedroom to the living room.

"Patton? Virgil?" Logan shouted at the same time. They met in the living room.

"Shit, where's Patton? PATTON!" Virgil yelled.

"It sounded like it came from the bathroom." Logan had barely finished his sentence before they both started running. They skidded to a halt outside the closed door; Virgil knocked.

"Patton? Are you in there? Are you okay?"

Three seconds of silence later, Logan knocked. "Patton, we are coming in." They opened the door to find him collapsed on the floor.

"Patton, can you hear us? Patton??" Virgil fell to his knees, checking for breathing and a pulse. "He's got a weak pulse, but it's there, and he's breathing okay. I don't- what do we do, Lo?" Virgil's voice was barely more than a shaky squeak.

Logan, on the other hand, spoke with cool, detached clarity. "Assuming that Patton collapsed due to a loss of consciousness, he has been unconscious for approximately thirty seconds. If he is out for another minute, we will call 911. In the meantime, go get a glass of water and all the pillows from the living room. Quickly, Verge. We need to get him back." They locked eyes and saw mirrored concern and panic. Virgil turned and ran to the kitchen. He was back in 45 seconds, and found Logan holding up Patton's groggy, but conscious, head.

"Virgil, you're back. Excellent. Here, give me a couple of pillows." He tucked them under his head gently, while Virgil knelt down beside him and took his hand. Only then did he notice how much his own were shaking.

"Patton, are you okay? What happened?"

"Mmf, dunno. Got dizzy. Are you guys okay?" Patton mumbled.

"Patton, of- of course we are okay; you're the one who fell. We should get you into bed. Do you think you can stand?" Logan asked.

"I- I don't think so, not quite yet." Logan and Virgil once again met eyes in a silent conversation.

"Okay, Pat, knees up, I'm gonna carry you." With an ease that surprised and slightly aroused Logan, Virgil picked Patton up, placed a soft kiss to his forehead, and carried him to the bedroom. "Let's get you to bed, baby; we'll take good care of you. You're gonna be just fine," he said softly into Patton's hair.

Once they got him to bed, they tucked him in, Logan made chicken noodle soup for when Patton felt up to it, and they gave him all of the cuddles he could possibly want. Which is, of course, an unlimited amount.

#analogicality #moxiety #analogical #logicality #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #my writing #sanders sides fanfiction

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your-worst-knightmare · 5 years ago

Text

Hoist the Colours: Pt. 2

Part 1

The king and his men Stole the queen from her bed And bound her in her bones. The seas be ours And by the powers Where we will, we’ll roam.

The sea rolled against the ship rhythmically, yet all Artemis wanted to do was throw something. Preferably something heavy. She stared at herself through the looking glass, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She had excused herself to her quarters after another disaster of a meal, and it was starting to become a habit. Feigned exhaustion one day, no appetite the next. She loved ghost ships, she really did. It freed one from the company of intrusive hands and left one alone with nobody but the briny deep. The only problem was that it made his presence all the more prominent.

Jay Todd. A self-avowed Prince and affirmed scoundrel, damn him. He’d been on her ship, Nephthys’ Daughter, for almost two months now. Two months was more than enough time for her to pry through his mask, cracking from lack of use. Being on a ghost ship all he time did have its disadvantages. The Prince, as she first met him, was cocky and brash, but also respectful in an odd way. Now that she’d spent some time with him, she could say differently. They’d fought together, and he was reliable, as far as men go. He was loyal, impulsively so, unyielding and relentless. He fought with a strange sense of honour, one constructed from an array of philosophies. In that sense, then, he was honour-bound, but contracted to his own sense of honour.

Damn him, damn him to his second grave. She’d heard of him before, unknowingly. The boy he once was was the stuff of legend. A lad, clawing his way out from six feet under, brought back with the essence of the fabled Fountain of Youth itself. They said it drove him mad, for a few years at least. He seemed to have recovered, but she didn’t miss the way he flinched during bad storms.

And the way he looked at her told her that she was almost a myth as well. People knew her name, if not her face, and they feared it. He didn’t. He respected her, and feared her only as one should fear a fully trained warrior. She didn’t fear him either, as many fellows did. And as much as she had begun to hate it, she had started to see him as… an equal.

But that wasn’t what bothered her. There was only one thing keeping her from asking him to join her ‘crew’ permanently. A feeling. Artemis liked to think she had pretty good instincts about people so she felt inclined to trust it. She always felt unnaturally contented and jubilated with him and wondered if there was something wrong with her. Some sort of sorcery, perhaps? No, she had enough sense to know that wasn’t the case. Then what was it?

A knock at the door commandeered her from her thoughts. Thunder. Why would he be–

“Lady Artemis, we ‘ave a problem.” She opened the door to a completely soaked Prince.

“What is it, Jay?”

“Birds. Some kind o’ ill-temper’d vicious creatures. ‘Uge ones too, that. Threw me right overboard.” He looked out of breath, but she saw the small part of him that was grateful for the excitement.

She summoned Mistress to her hand. “Blow ‘em down.”

Only when Artemis reached the deck did she realize just how big these “birds” were. There were three of them, hulking, monstrous and hungry. Upon seeing them enter the deck, the birds swooped down, talons outstretched. She barely rolled out of the way in time. They scratched up her deck, damn it.

Artemis eyed the Prince, who tossed her a harpoon gun. “A case shot won’t work. Damn things ‘re too close. Drag ‘m down Red!”

She smirked a little. Jay giving her orders. That was farcical. “‘M not goin’ whaling ‘ere Prince.” Nevertheless, she fired the harpoon and hauled the line toward the deck. The bird struggled and squawked, but came crashing down soon enough. Artemis squared her shoulders and walked towards the creature. Its beady, intelligent eyes stared her down, daring her to touch it. “How much will you sell for, y’ bilge rat?” she murmured, inspecting its ebony plumage.

“Th’ others ‘re leavin’, miss. What ’re you goin’ ‘ta do wi’ this one ‘ere?”

“How much room do we ‘ave in the hold?” Artemis asked, not quite sure if she wanted to keep the beast or not. Would it be worth the trouble?

“You’re not serious, miss…”

“Hmm, no, I’m not,” she decided, cutting the creature free. It flew off hastily, eager to put distance between itself and the ship. “ Wouldn’t be right to th’ bird. Wasn’t worth th’ trouble anyway.”

“ Well sink me, she does ‘ave a heart!” the Prince called.

Artemis raised an eyebrow. “And pray, Prince, what i’ that supposed to mean?”

He sauntered over, still drenched in seawater and smirking. “ A joke, miss. Surely even you know what th’ is.” The statement earned him a good-natured slap, but it still coaxed a smile out of Artemis despite herself. “Y’ haven’t eaten yet either, miss.”

“Very observative, Jay,” she said bluntly. “What would ‘ye propose, sir?”

The Prince took her jaded attitude in stride. “ I can bring your meal up here, miss. Th’ weather’s nice.”

“Fine. Do it smartly, then,” she said, waving him off. “And change your clothes. ‘Ye smell like an ol’ bilge rat.” She almost missed the flash of teeth in response to her remark. She was glad she didn’t. What was this absurd game they were playing at? Artemis had certainly never been like this with her sisters. This was different, both of them unsure what they were doing, yet finding a strange deftness at this bantering. She sighed to herself. Bilge. This was all bilge and that was that.

Artemis left the topic to rest when the Prince returned with her food. It was nothing special: some softened hardtack and salted meat. She washed the meal down with some questionable-looking water, something that she had regrettably made a component of her daily life. “So, Prince, why the sudden gentleman?“ Artemis asked, picking at the food stuck in between her teeth.

“There’s been no suddenness about it, miss. ‘M ‘jes treating the lady how she ought ‘ta.” He sat down beside her, polishing a small knife. The knife that won her respect, if not her attention for him. “‘Sides, ‘th Red Amazon’s been an honour ‘ta work with, even if she’s been leavin’ me alone so much.”

“So you’ve come to that conclusion.”He stopped polishing for a moment to look at her.”When there’s no business bet’een us, ‘th tension’s as thick as ever. When gettin’ on this ship, my intentions were ‘th same as yours. Now I think we make a good crew.”

“Two captains can’t make a crew, Prince,” Artemis said softly, relieved that Jay was the one proposing the idea that she’d secretly wanted to offer. “But two equals can be partners.”“

Partners and friends,” he added, leaning forward. He put a hand out towards her. “To Davy Jones’ Locker?”

“Bilge.” She took off the ring she had won from Jay, and pressed it to her lips before placing it in his hand. “No equal of mine will die from anything but a hero’s death,” she said, folding his fingers over it. He smiled, looking at the ornament in his hand. The Prince looked back at her, a princess in his eyes. “Yes ma’am.”

#jaytemis #pirate au #red hood #artemis grace #artemis of bana mighdall #rhato #rhato 2016 #rhato rebirth #pirates #jaytemis pirate au #dc comics

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