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9tzuyu · 3 years ago

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closest to me

prompt: coming out to natasha as nonbinary

note: totally meant to write this months ago, but whateverrrr. and yes, i am aware that not all nb people use they/them, this was just my own little work :p.

warnings: being scared to come out to ur sexy redhead russian of a gf :[

i’d tag but i also don’t want to somehow trigger someone :[

thank u moli for proofreading i love u to the moon and back.

. . .

you’d come out to two of your close friends, ones you knew wouldn’t judge you. they’d taken it just as expected, but that was no surprise when you’d known them your entire life. your shared opinions and thoughts were what brought you together in the first place.

your friends immediately began using your correct pronouns, and you’d never felt more right in your life. it was refreshing to hear yourself being referred by they/them rather than she/her. their constant support made you feel normal again. after so much struggling, things were finally being put into place.

but there was one person, one very important person whom you hadn’t come out to yet, and that was your girlfriend.

natasha.

the thought of having the conversation alone with her was terrifying. granted, you knew she’d never be anything but supportive, but all the what if’s came flooding through with each attempt you made.

your fingers trembled as you fiddled with the silver chain around your neck, a nervous habit you’d seemed to form over the years of wearing it.

god you wanted to tell her so bad.

but as you stood in the kitchen, natasha’s hands around your waist, you began to panic all over again. the familiar fear of judgment wrapped around your throat.

you didn’t know natasha the majority of your life like you did with friends, so you weren’t really sure what her exact opinions on different pronouns were. sure, she was part of the lgbt community, and of course she was supportive of trans people, but it still made you wonder how she’d feel about pronouns that weren’t he/him or she/her.

“what’s on your mind, baby? i can practically hear the gears turning in your head.”

you sighed. natasha always knew when you were lying, so you couldn’t make something up off the top of your head. she wouldn’t force you to talk either though. she’d give a push, but nothing more until you were certain you were ready — or in some cases, when she knew it was becoming too much to bear on your own.

“just dumb stuff. i’ll get over it soon.”

natasha nodded against your back, containing her concern for now. “you know i’m here.” she whispered, taking one of your hands away from your necklace.

“want to go downtown? we can look at some of the new shops that just opened up”

you smiled, “sure.”

for the next few weeks, you weren’t seeming to find any relief though, and natasha picked up on it. she tried her best to make things easier for you, but none of it seemed to work.

time and time again you reassured her that nothing was wrong, that things would clear up on their own, but another month down the road and natasha could still sense that something was eating away at you.

it’d gotten a little more obvious now. you didn’t go out as much with her when she was with her friends. the constant referral to you as something, or someone, you weren’t was a steady reminder of how outcast you’d originally felt when coming to terms with who you are.

“she/her” felt like a slap in the face every time you heard it. the words were exhausting, damn near agonizing to hear. but day after day you tried to suck it up out of fear of being rejected by one of the very special people you loved most.

it wasn’t until one sunday night when natasha came home to you crying in your shared bed when she’d finally had enough. her worry was through the roof and seeing you struggle so much pained her.

she dropped her keys on the nightstand and crawled into bed behind you, securing her arms tightly around your figure.

“talk to me. whatever it is, i want to hear about it.”

but that only made you cry harder. you couldn’t help but feel more alienated than you already felt. why were you crying over such a stupid little thing? you could already hear the false words slip from natasha’s lips.

“hey, baby. shh, shh, you’re okay.”

you turned your body to face natasha, teary eyes looking into hers. “you might hate me, or think i’m weird, or a freak, or that i’m just confused.”

your girlfriend gently combed through your hair with her nails. “i could never think those things about you. please tell me what this is about because i have no idea and i just want to help.”

her steady hand movement rubbing your arm while the other twirled your hand between her fingertips eventually brought you to a more reasonable state.

“you know how trans people typically go by their opposing pronouns?”

“mhm.”

“well... i don’t- i just- god this is so frustrating!” you frowned, unconsciously grasping at the chain around your neck.

“are you trying to tell me you’re trans?”

“no, no, it’s not that. well, i don’t think so, depends on who you talk to. some people like me consider themselves to be classified under the trans umbrella, but not everyone.”

natasha hummed once more while tracing small shapes against your skin.

“what do you think of nonbinary people? like, you know, those who don’t use she/her or he/him?”

she shrugged, and your heart sank for a brief second before she spoke. “i don’t have a problem with it. why?”

“i don’t like being referred to as she/her. my pronouns are they/them. i’m not a man and i’m not a woman... will that ever bother you?”

a smile broke out across the redhead’s face. “doesn’t bother me one single bit. i love you for you, y/n. not for who you think you’re supposed to be.”

relief was all you could feel. as cliche as it sounded, the weight of the world felt like it had been lifted from your shoulders. you didn’t have to worry anymore, not while natasha was around.

“is this what’s been bothering you for so long?”

you reached over and grabbed a loose red strand, it was your turn to play with her hair. “yeah. i knew you wouldn’t judge, but-”

“what if.” she confirmed and you nodded.

“does anyone else know?”

“just my two friends i grew up with.”

“no one else?” you shook your head, looping a red curl around your finger. “nope.”

“is that why you stopped hanging out with me, tony, clint and the rest of them? because everyone referred to you as she and her?”

“yeah, felt like a punch in the stomach every time i heard it. made me feel weird, not normal i guess.” you mumbled, almost embarrassed by the confession.

natasha placed a long kiss on the top of your head, rubbing your back for extra support. “they would never judge you, i’d cut them off in a heartbeat if they did. if it helps any, i can ask how they feel about it? poke around some and let you know what they say? then when they don’t have a problem with it, which they won’t, you can come out when you’re ready, yeah?”

you nodded again, although it was slightly hesitant. “sounds good.”

“forgive me if i mess up a couple of times. i’ll try not to make a big deal out of it and just correct myself.” another kiss was delivered to your head.

“oh! last question. promise.”

“yes?”

“when im around other people and you’re not with me do you want me to use they/them? i don’t want to out you when you’re not ready.”

“i swear you’re perfect,” you giggled. “but you can use they/them both when im with you and when i’m not. just try to keep it casual? please?”

“anything for you, sweetheart.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov x reader #black widow x reader #natasha x reader

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guessimwritingficsagain · 4 years ago

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To be seen, part Three (Frankie Morales x Reader)

Summary : The birthday party comes and goes. You're pining but get a grim reminder that Frankie has a daughter (and a spouse ?). You want to take a step back from that blooming relationship but things don't go according to plan. You want to surprise Jessie with a nice present.

Author’s note : I rewrote this thing like 4 times but here we are. Just so we are clear, we are NOT about to have a lot triangle between OFC, Frankie, and random new character James. I just want OFC to have some wholesome relationships and to be her own person besides her new relationship with Frankie and the boys (which, btw, a writer, a friend of mine actually, told me "sometimes you write about what you can't have" and boy didn't that hurt because I'm currently in the process of grieving a friendship that could have been so good if not for the fact that we have very different ways of seeing friendship ... so I guess that James comes from that, a little). The former version had Frankie being more forward but I do like a slooooow burn and also it felt OOC.

Anyway,

the song Sweet is by Porridge Radio.

The song Canción sin Miedo is by Vivir Quintana.

The French radio that only plays women, trans and NB people is a real thing : it's called Radio Tempête and I like it very much. Give it a try !

There had been questions. Linda had grilled you hard and actually told you to go for it. It felt nice, all of it, up until you’d asked Linda why she was here. She'd grown sheepish.

« I need a new start. A change of pace. And I- I miss you, not, you know, like that, but I miss my friend, and I figured a new start with an old friend, that could be nice. »

You’d nodded, wondering if there was something she was not telling you, but figuring she’d get to it in her own time. In the meantime, she was here. And it was nice. She got along immediately with both Jessie and Anna and could make Phil laugh like no one else. Still, there were things that you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her. You two had a history, just like you had with Jessie and Anna, but not the same kind and five years was a long time not to see each other.

That’s why you waited until Linda was playing with Clara to tell Jessie, quietly :

« That fifth guy who used to hang out with the boys ? »

Jessie looked surprised. She was usually the one fishing for information. You knew why you were telling her that : to share the epiphany you had, to remind her, and yourself, that these men were real people. And maybe, just maybe, to remind her in a way that there was a real world out there.

« He’s dead. »

The air grew quiet at that. You looked at her face. She nodded, juste the once. And then, never brought the boys up the way she used to. She asked for news, once in a while, but never again in the giddy way she used to do it.

———

Right. So maybe, maybe, you’d gone a little overboard with that birthday party, but the kid had lost her father a year ago and she deserved nice things.

Right ?

They didn’t have to know the bar didn’t actually own fancy, festive plates and an army of balloons. Besides, everybody had pitched in. And Phil had made an extra nice menu. It’d been a team effort, really. Except that when Linda came in to grab a coffee after work - she was working at the local bookstore and that made your heart clench a little - she raised her eyebrows and said :

« You said seventeen, right ? Because I think you’re going for seven, here. »

So. You were a bit nervous, which, what the hell ?? They weren’t your friends. They were paying consumers. Except you were fooling yourself there because you were pretty sure that paying consumers didn’t quite cover it.

But when Santi came in with her, the girl swallowed by a huge scarf to protect her from November’s chilly air, you saw the smile on her face, you knew it’d been worth it. Santi actually came and hugged you and whispered « thank you, Starbuck » before giving Anna a high-five.

Yeah, the Starbuck thing had stuck. And you might have started calling Santiago Santi.

You were introduced to the birthday girl -Sarah- who was lovely and perhaps, you realized quickly, a tiny bit smitten with Anna, in a when-I-grow-up-I-wanna-be-her kind of way. Anna, of course, was completely oblivious. They sat down at the counter first, waiting for their friends to get here, her with a coke, him with a beer, and you were content to just let them be. It was a moment you felt was too private for your tentative relationship.

Sarah hugged Frankie as he came in and you did not let your mind wonder what it would feel like. Beers to serve. Mind out of the gutter. But he came to find you, and he looked at you with those soft eyes and he leaned in a bit and you couldn’t help but smile. And he smiled back, elbows on the counter, so close.

« You didn’t have to do all that. »

His voice was barely a whisper, and you answered the same way :

« I know. »

He was looking at you like he was seeing you and you got that warm feeling again, at the center of your belly. There was nothing, for a few seconds, except his brown eyes, until Anna cleared her throat and you were reminded you were at work. You turned back to get a beer for Frankie, but were interrupted again by a hand on your arm. Anna was looking at you and asked, as quietly as possible :

« What was that ? »

Her eyes were kind, there was no teasing in her voice but you shrugged the question off anyway. You didn’t know what that was. And it wasn’t the time nor the place.

———

The birthday party had been a success, and the night would have been perfect if not for Phil’s pragmatism. He knew you, he could tell, and your little admission a while back, when under the fire of Linda’s questioning that maybe you had a tiny little crush hadn’t fooled him.

Oh, the mortifying ordeal of being known.

He’d came up to you when you’d been cleaning the coffee machine and he’d said :

« He has a kid, you know that. »

He’d left it at that, knowing it was enough.

And that was just the thing, right : you knew. And with kids usually came a spouse. He probably had a lovely one, someone pretty and smart and funny and soft just like he was. So you’d decided to take some emotional distance, just to keep it professional. Paying costumers, after all.

Of course you were fooling yourself, you were protecting yourself from something that had the possibility to break you heart. And that, that was the worst part, the scary part, because you remembered vividly not thinking about Linda that way and then she’d said I like you, I really like you, you know, in a way that makes me want to make out with you. And you’d realized you liked her in a way that made you want to make out with her too. Back then the closet had been a thing, a hard one to get out of, even though your parents loved you unconditionally, no matter how many tattoos they disapproved of covered your body, no matter who you dated. You just hadn’t realized what you’d felt for her until she’d spelled it out for you. It’d been beautiful and simple and safe.

Here, though, you were thirsting on a man a tiny bit older than you, who had a daughter, who was probably married. And you’d been avoiding thinking about that, and he never mentioned anyone. But you knew you needed to get a grip on those spiraling feelings.

You needed to refocus, and in doing so, you realized something that filled you with shame and guilt : you’d overlooked Jessie entirely. The Christmas Holidays were coming up and you hadn’t made any plans with her. You’d been so caught up in your world that, for the first time in years, you forgot about her. The fact she worked day shifts and you night shifts now meant that you saw less of each other. And since Linda got here, and the boys were around more, and you didn’t need to babysit Clara as much, you’d seen even less of her.

But you had a plan.

———

The plan showed up on your doorstep a few days later, greeting you when you opened the door with :

« I hope you finally threw away that ugly couch and that the new one is comfortable. »

Here he stood, in all of his stupid glory : James. Their parents probably had a weird sense of humor to call their first born Jessie and their second one James. Or maybe you had a weird sense of humor for noticing it.

Here’s a bit of a backstory : James was your age, and you’d actually been friends since you were ten. Attached-to-the-hip kind of friends. I-don’t-care-about-anyone-else kind of friends. He used to be your only friend, back then, because he was just enough. Jessie, being five years older, had no real interest in you whatsoever so you only befriended her later, when her ass of an ex-husband skipped town and you got a panicked call from James one morning asking if you could help his sister to find a job because she used to be a stay-at-home mom and now she really needed the cash. James couldn’t come home to help her, so you’d had to help Jessie. Not that it’d been a problem.

And James, James was spectacular in the way he never settled for anything. He’d left home to go to Harvard and then became a bloody CIA agent because why not. Except he hadn’t liked that so he’d quit the bloody CIA and opened a restaurant in Washington. The President of the United States of America ate there, on a regular basis.

(Sometimes, when life got too hard and you got too caught up in your own mind, and you felt you weren’t enough, you wondered why a man like that bothered to skype you twice a month, and one time, drunk and alone on your birthday, you’d left him a voicemail asking him that very thing and he’d given you so much shit for that you never asked again. You were his girl, forever and always.)

So you’d called him, explained the whole Jessie thing, and the guilt that came with it.

Now there he was, ready to hide in your apartment while you got everything set to give your girl Jessie the surprise she deserved. You let Phil and Anna in on the secret that was James, just so he could come to the bar when he wanted and no one would tell Jessie about it.

That’s how you found yourself jumping slightly at the abrupt change of a song, one night at the bar, and you declared, knowing who it was :

« Costumers don’t get to change the music. »

The only answer you got was a laugh. You turned around to see James, bending over the counter to get to the computer, all crinkled eyes and white teeth.

« Don’t tell me you don’t like hearing Sweet. » He quipped.

« I like that song », you explained as you secretly rejoiced in hearing the familiar notes. « But that doesn’t mean you get to play anything you want. I know you, you get too comfortable. »

He sat down at the bar, a bit away from the boys who were joking and laughing at the counter. Benny had won his fight and got a girl’s number so it was a good night for him, the kind of night you didn’t want to intrude on. Except you wished you could, and that, that was a red flag in itself because usually, when James was around, there was nobody else in the world but you still thought about Frankie, about how you wished you were sitting on the other side of the counter, pressed against him, laughing at whatever it was that had been said. Paying consumers, right ?

You’d been serving beers left and right, only stopping a moment to get another round to the boys when you heard :

« Where the fuck is that French radio playlist ? You know, radio that only plays songs by women, trans and non-binary people ? I know you have one, can’t seem to find it. »

« James. »

You turned around. He was standing behind the counter.

« How on earth did you get there ? »

« I jumped. You were busy, didn’t see it. Anyway. That playlist ? There’s some good shit on that. Though we might want to avoid the songs too obviously sexual, right ? »

You let out the biggest sigh. Of course he'd jumped. Of course he’d find that absolutely normal. You waived him away and got to find the playlist.

« I wanna hear Canción sin Miedo. » He added, all but propped up on the counter.

« Get down. Also your accent is shit. » You hissed. You complied, though.

As the Mexican song started playing, Will gave you a look.

« That’s Jessie’s brother. » You explained, your voice still a touch exasperated.

« But that’s a secret. » James added, still very much sitting on the counter. He smiled and said : « Hi, I’m James. Like Bond. James Bond. Nobody ever saw the two of us in the same room, by the way. »

He winked and you ugly snorted.

———

The noise was overwhelming and the place reeked of beer and sweat but Anna was steering you gently through the crowd and Linda’s hand was grounding, on your shoulder. MMA fights were not your scene but Benny had asked and Anna had said yes before you could get a word in. You’d called Linda in a panic, muttering you know how I get in crowded spaces and she’d offered to come.

You still didn’t know how Anna managed to get your boss to give you both the day off for that but you were glad.

You heard Benny come in more than you saw him, and Anna guided you to the place where Santi, Frankie and Will were. Santi made a jab at Linda, who laughed it off and introduced herself at the others. She was blending in with ease, as always. You, though, felt lost, until you sensed someone right next to you. Lifting your head, you saw Frankie hand you a drink, before his hand came and gently grabbed your arm, guiding you to a sit right next to him.

« You okay ? » he asked in your ear, close enough that you could feel his breath, his hand still on your arm.

You explained right in his own ear :

« Crowed spaces. »

You felt his hand give a squeeze and, without thinking, tapped his thigh in a way you hoped would convey your thanks. Then, you held onto your drink for dear life, as Benny started beating the shit out of the other guy.

———

Benny was breaking down his fight, as the other men pitched in with a comment, once in a while. You hadn't exactly enjoyed the fight, but Frankie's presence and explanations had made the whole thing better. You drew the line, though, at debriefing, so you turned to Linda :

« So, how was your date ? »

« Nice. »

« Nice ? Just nice ? But she was bloody gorgeous. You showed me pictures ! »

You weren’t as quiet as you thought you were because next think you knew, Anna was leaning in, wiggling eyebrows, and the rest of the table grew awfully quiet. You turned to see all the eyes on you.

« Who was bloody gorgeous ? » Santi inquired.

« My date. »

Everybody was listening, now. You motioned her to go ahead.

« Well, her yoga lessons came in handy, if you know what I mean but … yeah … yoga. Pilates. Rabbit food. »

« Well, you still got her to do some yoga » you replied with a wink.

That got Anna to spit her drink.

« She was plenty good at that, but, yeah. »

She shrugged and too a sip of her beer.

« Wait, she ?»

So yeah, Santi hadn’t caught on the Linda’s a lesbian train yet. Though to be fair, he’d seen her once, twice counting tonight.

« Got a problem with that ? » Linda asked.

You felt the tension roll off of her and you couldn’t blame her. You never really knew how people were going to take your coming out, no matter how well you knew the person. And she didn’t know Santi at all.

He hurriedly shook his head.

« No, I just didn’t expect it, is all. »

He lit up, then, and you could almost see the bad idea that came to his mind.

(Maybe you were starting to know him after all.)

« I could be your wingman, and you my wingwoman. »

« No fucking way, Santiago. »

You laughed as you listened to Linda give a few more details, sweet Anna beaming in awe as the discussion went to Linda’s great adventures in dating.

« So, you’re a serial dater. » the younger woman exclaimed.

« She was never good at settling » you confirmed.

Linda turned to you and, with mock outrage, asked :

« Never good at settling ? Do those two years with you mean nothing ? »

You laughed and she laughed and Anna laughed and Benny all but shrieked :

« You two dated ??? »

That only made your belly clench even more, the laughter an unstoppable force, Linda warm by your side, Anna crying from laughter, Santi and his existential crisis because he’d hit on a lesbian and suddenly everything made sense because nobody said no to Santiago - at least that was what your were feeling he was thinking. And Benny, just confused, said :

« I didn’t know you swung that way. »

The sentence was meant for you, you knew that, but before you could calm down, another voice, one you’d recognize anywhere, anytime, answered for you :

« Oh, she swings every fucking way, right, baby ? »

You turned around sharply and there he was, again, James. Right on time. He settled right next to you, his warmth a comforting presence. You swallowed the anxiety down. Everything would be alright.

And everything was.

Because fifteen minutes later, Jessie was coming in, Clara in her arms, wondering what the emergency Phil called about was. You would forever remember the look on her face when she saw her brother sitting right there. The blinding smile, the way James took Clara in his arms and cooed.

It was going to be a good night (again).

———

« That was real nice of you », Frankie mumbled. « What you did back there, with Jessie and her bother. »

You’d stepped out to have a smoke and he’d joined you, hands in pockets, just standing there, not close enough to touch you but close enough that you could feel him.

« You two seem close », he stated after a bit.

That wasn’t jealousy. That you could tell.

« He’s my best friend, I guess. »

« He seems nice », Frankie stated. « A bit over the top but then again, I’m friends with Pope so … »

You had a flashback, then, of your first encounter with Benny, and asked :

« What’s with the nicknames anyway ? »

« We served … » Frankie started. You cut him off.

« Yeah, I know, but. What does it mean ? »

Frankie just smiled, then, took a step closer to you, shoulders brushing. You felt hot, all of a sudden.

« A callsign is trust » he explained and then quietly added :

« Starbuck »

You managed to keep it together. You kept it together because paying consumers. You kept it together because that man had a daughter and was probably married and what he’d just said was said out of friendliness.

#frankie morales x reader #Frankie morales #francisco catfish morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #francisco 'catfish' Morales x reader #triple frontier

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theharellan · 4 years ago

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Solas Fan Banter

Here’s a compilation of the fan banter I’ve written over the years between Solas and other canon Dragon Age characters, posted for Dragon Age Day 2020. There are references to a canon divergent Solas/nb!Lavellan companion romance. I’ve regretfully not written any Iron Bull banter that I’m proud enough of to feature here, but if anyone has any suggestions for topics I’d be glad to hear them.

Featured characters: Solas, Cassandra, Varric, Sera, Blackwall, Vivienne, Dorian, Cole, Morrigan, Cullen, Leliana, Valta, Renn, and Arcane Advisor Merrill!

Solas & Cassandra

(after receiving the quest Agrarian Apostate)

Cassandra: And he was not even a mage. Shameful. Solas: Would have it been justified if he was? Cassandra: The Templars have sanction to punish apostates. It would not have been beyond their authority. Solas: I would not call that justified, merely legal. Cassandra: The Templars should be better. Solas: The Chantry armed them and gave them an enemy. That might fuel an army, but will only serve to poison their minds against innocent people, apostates or no.

Solas & Varric

(after killing the Templars during the quest Agrarian Apostate)

Varric: I thought at least away from Kirkwall I could get away from crazy Templars. Solas: You believe they were mad? The men I saw were no different from those who confronted us in Val Royeaux.

(after delivering the ring)

Solas: She seems to be holding up well, considering. Varric: Yeah, but I know a front when I see one. Solas: You believe she was suffering more than she let on? Varric: Oh, I know it, Chuckles. That ring might comfort her when the country gets too quiet, but it won’t dry her tears or– shit, do much else, really. Solas: Some wounds only time heal. Varric: And they always seem to leave ugly scars.

(after beginning Here Lies the Abyss)

Solas: You found Hawke after all. Varric: Oh, you know. All those heroics jogged my memory. Solas: Naturally. Varric: What, you going to lay into me, too? Solas: No, no. I understand why you hesitated. (if Hawke is a mage) Solas: To involve her in a Chantry organisation would not have been wise, at least before it had a chance to prove itself. (otherwise) Solas: Given her involvement in this war, I can only imagine there are those on both sides who would blame her for their present predicament. Varric: You mind telling all that to Cassandra? Solas: I would prefer not to.

(after Here Lies the Abyss, if Hawke is left behind)

Solas: I have read your book, you know. The Tale of the Champion. Varric: I don’t know if now’s the best time. Solas: I understand. I only wanted to say that in reading it, I felt your affection for Hawke in every word. I am... sorry, for what happened. Varric: Thanks, Chuckles. Solas: Of course.

(after Here Lies the Abyss, if Hawke survives)

Solas: You said your farewells to Hawke? Varric: Sure did. Sent letters home, debated sending letters to Weisshaupt. The Wardens will need to know the storm coming their way. Solas: You believe Hawke will pose a problem? Varric: Well, maybe not on purpose.

(in the Hissing Wastes, while exploring dwarven ruins)

Varric: I’m surprised you’re not hounding me about how all this makes me feel, Chuckles. Solas: I had thought we established your disinterest. Varric: Yeah, well. I’m thinking about it, anyway. Solas: If you insist. How does this make you feel, Varric? Varric: There’s a tiny part of me that’s really satisfied, you know? Seeing a Paragon of all people living on the Surface, then the rest of me just doesn’t give a shit. Solas: Tradition is a difficult thing to shake, to be conflicted is expected. Do you think our discovery here ought to be shared with Orzammar? Varric: I don’t know about Orzammar, but I can think of a few Surface dwarves who’d be interested in this.

Solas & Sera

Solas: I could not help but notice what you were drawing at breakfast. Sera: What? I wasn’t drawing anything.

(if Sera is romanced)

Solas: You captured our Inquisitor’s likeness well. Sera: Better than you could.

(otherwise)

Solas: There was no mistaking Dagna’s likeness. What were you carrying? Sera: A bowblade. It’s not a thing yet, but if anyone can make one, Widdle can.

Solas: Have you ever given thought to collaborating together on a piece? Sera: Collaber-what? Piece of what? Solas: A painting, or a drawing if you prefer, what medium you decide upon makes little difference to me. Sera: You really think the two of us could work together on anything? Solas: I was under the impression we had been. Sera: That’s different. The Inquisition’s not an ‘us’ thing, or it is, but not us us.

Sera: Say if I wanted to make something with you, what’d we even make? Solas: You ask the question as if there are limitations. Sera: A dragon, then! No, wait, a butt! (beat) Sera: Nothing? Not even a nose wrinkle? Solas: I am not unopposed to the idea. Sera: Ugh, how can you even make butts boring?

Sera: (handing him a drawing) Here, made you something. Solas: What is this? Are those—shoes? Sera: That’s right. One for each toe. You’re welcome.

(After Solas initiates a relationship with Ian)

Sera: So, you and Freckles, huh? Interesting. Solas: Your interest is not my concern. Sera: I always figured you’d wind with someone who’d make the bumping bits matter. Y’know, drop ‘em and rebuild the empire. Solas: It is not the physical product of our love that matters so much as how he makes me feel when I’m with him. Sera: Eugh.

(If Ian is in the party)

Ian: (laughingly) Vhenan, I would choose your words more carefully next time. Solas: Oh. (slightly embarrassed) I did not mean it like that. Sera: Ha! I’ve made him blush. Solas: This is why I didn’t wish to discuss it.

Solas & Blackwall

(While near Ferb’s old fishing pier in the Exalted Plains)

Blackwall: Wonder if the fishing’s good. If we had an hour or two… Solas: Do you consider yourself an angler, Blackwall? Blackwall: I wouldn’t go that far, but I do enjoy the sport of it. Solas: I’ve never considered it a sport. Blackwall: Probably because you’ve never gone fishing just for the fun of it. Next time we make camp, I’ll show you.

Inquisitor: So, how’d your fishing expedition go? Blackwall: You should’ve seen the size of the gar I wrangled. Solas: It was not half as impressive as he believes. Blackwall: He only says that because all’s he caught were minnows. Solas: (scoffs) Inquisitor: So... where is it? Blackwall: We threw it back, of course. Wasn’t like we were going to eat it. Solas: A convenient excuse.

(Along the Storm Coast)

Blackwall: Ever heard of the pale ship that appears on the mists? The Windy Marcher – I think that’s what they called it. Solas: I cannot say I have. Blackwall: An old story, no idea where it started. Must’ve heard it a dozen times in the Free Marches, always a different ending. Solas: As is often the case with legends, the content and moral changes with the teller. Blackwall: One man claimed he’d seen it himself, said the ship was captained by beautiful spirits who’d called him to the sea. Solas: A case of wishful thinking, I assume. Blackwall: He was a bit of a lonely bastard.

(After Revelations)

Solas: You and Cole seem more friendly, of late. Thom: He took some getting used to, but his heart’s in the right place. There’s enough darkness in the world without pushing away the good. Solas: I imagine it was chilling, knowing he could break your cover on a whim. Thom: That did keep me up some nights, yes. Sometimes I wonder why he didn’t say anything. Solas: Perhaps he saw in you what the Inquisitor sees. Thom: Well, I’m grateful. On both counts.

Solas & Vivienne

(After the events of Bring Me the Heart of Snow White)

Solas: I heard the news of Duke De Ghislain’s death. As I understand it, the two of you were close. My condolences for your loss. (if the Inquisitor gave Vivienne a regular wyvern’s heart) Vivienne: (coldly) There was a chance at saving him, but he is beyond saving, now. At least, by mortal hands. Solas: Then I am all the sorrier. (otherwise) Vivienne: He was at peace, and we had the chance to meet at least one last chance before he passed. Solas: Be thankful for that closure, it will bring you comfort in the days to come. Vivienne: It already has.

Solas: How do you feel about the moniker ‘Madame de Fer?’ Vivienne: Oh, I think it’s darling. Why do you ask? Solas: Iron is cold, unyielding without the proper tools, some may use it as an insult rather than a mark of respect. Vivienne: Of that I’ve no doubt, but let them. I embraced it wholeheartedly, and from then on no one could ever truly use it against me. Solas: True enough, such a tactic has worked for others before.

Vivienne: You will be wearing shoes to the ball, won’t you? Solas: My comfort is not worth jeopardizing the Inquisition’s image, so yes. Vivienne: Many elven servants in Orlais go barefoot, it would hardly be a scandal. Still, it would be beneficial. We must all present as a unit when the time comes, not a single hair out of place. Solas: That will hardly pose a problem for the two of us. Vivienne: (makes a sound almost like a laugh) Right you are.

Solas: There are rumours that your name be put forward as the next Divine. Vivienne: I wonder who might have started those. Solas: After all that has happened these past few months, you believe it possible they will accept a mage into their fold? (if the Inquisitor completed In Hushed Whispers / is a mage) Vivienne: Whyever not? Magic is what solved the problem, after all. Solas: Magic has solved countless problems over the centuries, and yet it is still reviled. Vivienne: I am not any ordinary mage. If any mage can achieve status of Divine, I am she. Solas: On that, we agree. (if the Inquisitor completed Champions of the Just and is a non-mage) Vivienne: With the Inquisitor’s support there is nothing I cannot accomplish, my dear.

Vivienne: The Inquisitor gave you that hood not half a day ago and it already has a hole in it. Solas: Two, in fact. Vivienne: Are you afraid we’ll forget you’re an elf if we go five minutes without seeing your ears? Solas: My estimation of your abilities is not that low, Enchanter, and I would be careful were I you. Two holes cut in a hood is not nearly as desperate as donning a pair of horns every morning.

(After Ian is made Tranquil during his personal quest)

Vivienne: I hope you know what you are doing, my dear. The Rite of Tranquility is not something easily undone. Solas: As I understand it, the Seekers did it quite regularly. Vivienne: And through a far gentler process. What they did to Ian was barbaric, but undoing it is not necessarily a kindness. One might even call it selfish. Solas: I never made any claim to selflessness. Vivienne: Go through with it, and he will relive what happened to him every morning and night for the rest of his life. Solas: (with restrained anger) Do not pretend as though you suddenly care for his well-being now, you showed little regard for him before. Vivienne: It is a warning, nothing more. Solas: Your warning is heeded, but it changes nothing. I am under no illusion this will be simple, but to give up on him now— I would be no better than the Circle that once wanted this same fate for him.

Solas & Dorian

Dorian: That book you have on your desk, Solas… Solas: There are many. Which are you referring to? Dorian: There’s one that looked to be in Ancient Tevene. Do you speak it, or are you just keeping it around to look clever? Solas: I would not go so far as to say I speak it, but I understand it well enough. Dorian: How did you go about learning it? Solas: Memories of Tevinter’s empire litter the land, there is hardly a place in Thedas where the world does not remember it, and with memories come language. Dorian: So you learned through the Fade? Solas: I did, though my pronunciation leaves something to be desired. An unfortunate consequence of learning any language alone. Dorian: I might be able to help, but only if you give me the satisfaction of hearing you muddle through it out loud beforehand. Also, I’ll be next in line when you’ve finished reading that book of yours. Solas: (snorts) Very well.

Solas & Cole

Cole: So they’re nobody, but somebody. Empty shells, filled with someone else’s memory. Solas: For the most part, it seems. Cole: If they’re heartless, why are they so angry? Solas: Perhaps it was not so much the absence of feeling, but the lack of recognition of said feelings. Cole: Belief makes them real, even if they’ll always be different.

Cole: It remembered. Delight in discovery, always pushing further into the unknown— someone like that does not simply disappear, and yet... it cannot remember his name. Solas: Names are not so as important as the spirit of the person they belong to. Cole: It remembered the person. Sadder, but stronger. If I ever return to the Fade, I would like to meet it. Solas: Nothing would delight it more. Cole: Oh, I know. I think we’d be friends.

(After the banter where Solas helps prevent a panic attack)

Cole: You breathe in— one, two, three, four— then out— one, two, three, four— feel the grass beneath your feet, magic between your fingers, remember what is and what was. How long did it take you to learn? Solas: More time than is ideal. Cole: I’m sorry. Solas: There is some comfort in knowing I’ve learned enough to help others with such struggles. Cole: I’ll count with you, if you need. Solas: Thank you, Cole.

Solas: I’m curious how your efforts are coming along since we last spoke. Cole: Josephine misses how saffron tastes, but she hasn’t asked the chef to purchase any. I wrote it on a list when no one was watching. Cullen doesn’t like my letters. He says they don’t make sense. Solas: I cannot imagine he devoted much time to understanding them. Cole: No. Listening is... difficult, when you’ve been taught not to.

Cole: Eyes fall shut, but they do not drift away. Their feet are tethered, tied to the ground. Solas: Even dwarves who lived and died on the Surface never dreamed. Cole: But they are still remembered. The song drowns out their thoughts, but it does not smother them. If I listen, I can hear. Solas: I have seen fewer glimpses of dwarven history than I would like, but there are always memories preserved by particular attentive spirits.

(When passing through the kitchen, or lingering nearby. Solas stands over the stove and Cole sits on a nearby counter, hitting his leg against the wood.)

Solas: Would you like to try it, Cole? Cole: Would it not be a waste? I don’t need to eat. Solas: To overindulge, perhaps. A taste will do you nor the world any harm, a good meal is about more than survival. Cole: Then I’d like to try it, please.

Cole: You don’t have to eat, Solas. Solas: Strictly speaking, no. Cole: Sometimes you do anyway. Solas: When the urge takes me, or if refusing would be seen as ill-mannered.

Solas: If I could ask for your opinion, Cole. Cole: It remembers the garden. The sun bakes it red, colour working through it like a blush upon a maiden’s cheeks. Solas: Excellent. And this? Cole: It was lost in weeds for weeks, neglected and forgotten. It tastes like oversteeped tea. Solas: I see. Then we will find another.

Cole: And it remembers the ocean? Solas: It knows the mountain streams and rocky coasts as well as any well-seasoned traveller, though the paths it takes are laid with smoother stones. Cole: Rough edges wicked away by river waters. Soft enough to stand on without any shoes. Solas: Though one must still take care not to fall. (optional) Inquisitor: Speaking from personal experience, Solas? Solas: I suppose one might say that. Cole: Feet forget the ground, flying out from beneath him, but the rest of him doesn’t follow. Solas: (tinged with embarrassment) As I said. Inquisitor: (chuckles) (otherwise) Cole: But you always get up again.

Solas & Cullen

Cullen: I’m curious how you’ve avoided Templars all these years. Solas: I would prefer not to say. Cullen: I’m no longer a Templar, you know. Solas: Then why do you still wear their heraldry? Or am I mistaken? Cullen: I… Solas: Templar or no, your support for its cause endures. I would not endanger fellow apostates by revealing our methods.

Solas: Master Tethras tells me you served in Kirkwall. Cullen: Varric has no shortage of stories, that one just so happens to be true. Why do you bring it up? Solas: My travels have taken me there, on occasion. Cullen: I admit, I’m curious what your impression was. Solas: All the world is steeped in tragedy, but in Kirkwall the Fade overflows with it. Spells flow from the fingertips with such ease you may forget the Veil altogether. Cullen: That doesn’t surprise me, the amount of abominations I saw during my years there… Solas: They were but a symptom. Kirkwall’s sickness ran deeper than what any one spirit could cure.

Solas & Leliana

Solas: I have heard the Inquisition call you many titles. Sister, Nightingale, Spymaster. Leliana: I have worn many masks, some I’ve liked more than others. Why do you mention it? Solas: Which do I refer to you by? Leliana: (laughs) Whichever you prefer. You may use Leliana, if you wish. Solas: Then I shall see which suits you best.

Solas & Josephine

Josephine: It took several tries, but we managed to remove the wine stain from your sweater. I apologise again for Lady Vérène’s indiscretion. Solas: The fault is hardly yours. It is a pity she is not more open to an apostate’s perspective, but the loss is hers. Extend my sincere gratitude to whoever expunged the mark. I have only a few shirts to my name. Josephine: You know, Solas, now that the Inquisition finds itself in more favourable circumstances, we can afford to purchase you a new wardrobe. Solas: With respect, Ambassador, I value comfort over style. I’m uncertain the Summer Bazaar will be able to accommodate me. Josephine: It would be a most... unusual request, but I believe I know the tailor for the job.

Josephine: Have you found the library to your liking? Solas: I have. I cannot imagine any other circumstance where someone like me could have such unmitigated access to the written word. Most human libraries are not so liberal with their guests. Josephine: I confess, I have never been without books. Ever since I was a child they were always within reach. Solas: Then you must have recommendations. Josephine: One or two come to mind. If I can secure faithful translations, you will have them.

Solas & Morrigan

Solas: You seem well-versed in courtly manners for a woman raised in the wilderness. Morrigan: What are you implying? Solas: That you have a talent for winding nobles around your finger, or that the infamous ‘game’ is not so deadly as they like to believe. Vivienne: Or that more talented souls paved the wave for her. Solas: Another possibility. Morrigan: ‘Tis true that Orlesians overestimate the challenge of this ‘Game’ of theirs. Empress Celene had her desires, and ‘twas a simple matter to keep her satisfied. Vivienne: Which is why you’re with us. Morrigan: With you at my side, I could not help but notice. Vivienne: Believe me, dear. Court enchanter is a trifle compared to where my sights have set.

Solas: I found your son atop the rotunda’s scaffolding today. Morrigan: He has long been fond of climbing, and Skyhold’s trees are too new to bear his weight. Solas: It was no harm. My only regret is I did not have an answer to every question he asked. He is a curious boy. Morrigan: (laughs) That he is.

(During What Pride Had Wrought, upon finding the mosaic of June)

Morrigan: Ah, clever June. The most elusive of the elven gods, insofar as legends are concerned. Solas: Their silence is deafening. Morrigan: I take it you have insight? Solas: Merely that he does not deserve what little credit he is given. Time has forgotten the name of whosoever built the first aravel.

Solas: Rumour spread that Kieran went missing. I trust your presence here means you have found him? Morrigan: I… yes. Solas: He is unharmed? Morrigan: Yes. Solas: Then I am glad. And… you? Morrigan: I have much to think upon, but my son is safe. Everything else can come after.

Solas & Renn

Solas: Tell me, Lieutenant, why did you remain with the Legion? Renn: Having trouble seeing why it’s your business. Why d’you ask? Solas: Escaping would be a simple matter of finding the right battle to slip away from. Freedom would only be a few day’s journey from where we stand. Renn: I couldn’t abandon my men... or my city. Solas: You show great loyalty to Orzammar, considering you will never see it again. Renn: Yeah, well. You never forget your home. Solas: No. I suppose you don’t.

Solas & Valta

Solas: “But the truth is the truth— no matter how political it may be.” Valta: Do you disagree? Solas: Just the opposite. The truth does not change with our ability to stomach it. I am glad a historian such as yourself agrees. Valta: A shame the rest of the Shaperate doesn’t agree with us. Solas: True, but if they had you would not be here, on the brink of uncovering secrets buried centuries ago. In their attempt to keep you out of the way, they unknowingly set you upon the path to even greater knowledge. Valta: Orzammar will know the truth. If I don’t make it, then the Inquisitor— Solas: You are not yet dead, Shaper Valta. Do not count yourself apart from the living so soon.

Solas & Merrill

Merrill: You snort when you laugh. Solas: I’m well-aware. If you are about to ask me to stop, I’m afraid I’ve tried before. Merrill: Oh, it’s not a bad thing. It might be the most charming thing about you. Solas: Damned by faint praise. Merrill: It is a very charming laugh.

Solas: Why did you leave your clan? I read Varric’s Tale of the Champion, but I suspect most of it was a lie. (if present) Varric: Hey! I’m right here. Solas: You did well to lie. To name her as a Dalish mage would be to paint a target upon her back. (otherwise) Merill: I left… I— it wasn’t exactly my choice. There was a mirror, tainted by the Blight. I thought we should fix it, even if it meant turning to blood magic. My Keeper disagreed. Solas: You cleansed the Blight from an eluvian? That is remarkable. Merrill: I used to wonder if it was worth it. I sacrificed so much to get it working, years of my life, my— I’m just glad we’re getting use out of it, now.

Merrill: You’re wrong about my people, Solas. The Dalish aren’t as lost as you think. Solas: They cast you to the streets of Kirkwall, exiled you for the crime of pursuing the duty they tasked you with. Merrill: Some of them said such awful things, they looked at me like I was already a demon, but… that doesn’t mean there isn’t good, too. Sometimes I wonder, had my Keeper not been so against me, if things might have been different. Merrill: I don’t know what they said to you, but I know what their scorn feels like. It hurts, but… there’s so much to admire. Solas: You still feel for them. Merrill: They’re my people, they always will be. No matter how much they might hate me, I’ll always love them. Solas: Put like that, I suppose I understand the sentiment. Merrill: It’s a lonely feeling, isn’t it? Solas: It never ebbs, no. Merrill: Then just— remember them, when you think unkind thoughts about the Dalish. The people you miss, the people you don’t, and what you’d sacrifice for them both.

(in the Exalted Plains, outside the boundaries of Hawen’s camp)

Merrill: (giggles) Datishan was asking about you before we left. Solas: Datishan… Hawen’s little hunter? Merrill: Who else? She wanted to know when you’d be back. Solas: What did you tell her? Merrill: I told her you needed time, that good stories don’t grow on trees. You will go back, won’t you? Solas: It seems I shall have to, or else suffer the wrath of her arrows. Merrill: You joke, but she almost poked out my eye last night. Solas: (chuckles)

#dragonageday #solas #dragon age #dragon4geday #unofficialdragonageday #dragon age inquisition #fan banter #dare to be in the company of those stronger than you ( banter )#( my writing )#[ i'll be reposting the couple new things i wrote for this later ]#[ scheduled post ]

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werevulvi · 6 years ago

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So I had an appointment a few days ago to redo the evaluation for my trans diagnosis (that I got back in 2010), for my medical detransition, and it's taken me a while to gather my thoughts about that. I've mostly been sleeping since then, and then had another kind of appointment with my regular therapist yesterday, where I didn't manage to say anything substantial at all, then slept some 18 hours after that. So I've been very out of the loop, to say the least.

Anyhow. The psychologist I saw at the gender clinic basically just asked me a bunch of questions about my dysphoria, why I think it was only a product of my traumas, how I managed to make it go away, how I came to the conclusion I want to detransition, which procedures I want, etc.

She also asked me if I've considered I could be non-binary. That question of hers really took me off guard and I just blurped out something along the lines of "I don't believe in it" and then added I feel perfectly happy being a woman. In hindsight I think I should have focused more on that I'm just happy being a woman and feel no need to take on an nb label of any sort, but yeah... I dunno if she asked out of curiosity or if it was part of the evaluation. Cause when I did it the first time around non-binary wasn't a thing and it wasn't part of the evaluation for a trans diagnosis 10 years ago. Oh, the good old times...

I tried to not come across as "too terfy" with my non-binary beliefs there but also couldn't think of anything else to say, so I just... shut my pie hole about it, basically. About why I don't believe in it, I mean. I don't think I need to be """progressive""" (*cough* regressive) to get access to reversal procedures from them, but I also don't want unnecessary drama about my personal views not fitting the trans agen-- I mean community. So, yeah.

At the end of the session she said her biggest worry (about my case) is how could she make sure I won't regret reversing my transition. As in how could she be sure that letting me get reversal procedures won't become something I'll regret as well. I tried to say that I've come very far in understanding myself better, that I figured out my dysphoria was all due to past traumas, that I actually listen to my doubts/gut feelings these days, that I also wanna make sure I won't regret things a second time, etc.

The reason, she said, why she's worrying about that, is because I said I don't think me having ended up in this situation could have been prevented, when she asked about that. I don't understand really why that makes her worry. Like how is that a red flag of any sort? It just means I understand both my strengths and my flaws better now, that even though I hate being in this absolute shit situation of detransitioning, I know it couldn't have been prevented no matter how much I wish it could have been. It does NOT mean I somehow still wanted to end up in this pile of crap.

When I had already explained to her that back then I was basically stuck in an impossible situation cause I was suicidal and not receptive to getting psychiatric help. I saw transitioning as my only means of getting better back then. Cause my current situation is nothing like that, which I also explained. Nowadays I'm not suicidal, I'm very much receptive to help and I'm clawing at my therapist to give me trauma therapy. I've got things under a hell of a lot better control, which is literally why I'm regretting my transition in the first place. Cause I've finally come to my senses!!! After having lived a lie! I even said to her that me living as a man was a coping mechanism, to which she said "yeah but despite that... you still wanted to transition, didn't you?" DESPITE THAT?! Yeah, sure, why not just throw aside the probably most important aspect here...

Soo... did she misinterpret me (whether willfully or not) or does she want guarantees? Sorry but life doesn't come with any guarantees... not mine, nor anyone else's. So I don't know what to make of that really. I left that psychologist's office feeling like something important went unsaid but I've no idea what I should have said differently or added to it. And I've a bad gut feeling about it, whenever I think about that appointment.

However, I got a new appointment with her on the 3rd of April, to continue the evaluation. So I might be able to clear up some misunderstandings on that meeting then. Ask her some questions, I mean.

Gawd, I just hope this whole re-evaluation thing goes well... Really don't wanna end up being told I'm too mentally unstable or seem like I'll change my mind on getting reversal procedures (thanks asperger for making my face an unreadable constant poker face which makes people constantly unsure of me) or even if they might think I'm not "cis enough" or whatever the fuck they could come up with. Oh well, I'll try to not worry my ass off about it. At least not until the evaluation is over.

#personal #detransition #medical detransition #getting my trans diagnosis scrapped #so that I can get the reversal stuff for free #first appt for re-evaluation

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salamadersaurus-rex · 7 years ago

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Trouble

A Vasquez/Lena fic that got out of hand. Feat. nb!Vasquez.

Also on AO3.

Vasquez rides a motorbike. It’s an Iron 883, with a throaty roar that any DEO agent hears it rolling into the underground carpark knows by heart. When the Harley grumbles, Vasquez is near. So when a beautiful black Ferrari Spider pulls up outside the city base at eight am sharp, spilling Vas out onto the curb with a cheery wave to the driver, it raises some eyebrows.

“Sweet ride,” Alex says as Vasquez opens their locker.

“Though you preferred bikes, Danvers,” Vasquez teases. They change quickly out of their MIT shirt and jeans and into their uniform, comfortable enough with Alex that they don’t mind her seeing their binder.

Lucy comes into the locker room, fresh out of the shower after an early workout. She swats at Alex’s ass with a towel.

Alex yelps. “What are you, fifteen?”

“Twelve. Good night, Vas?”

“Dinner and a movie,” they say. “Well, microwave meal for one and Netflix.”

“Thought you had a date,” Alex says.

“What makes you think that?” Vas replies, keeping their tone nonchalant just so they can enjoy the look on her face.

“The fact someone drove you to work in a two hundred thousand dollar sports car?”

Lucy gapes. “Damn, Vasquez. Now you have to tell.”

Vasquez grins. They want to tell their friends who they’re dating. In fact they and their partner have talked about coming out for a while, but there’s just something so satisfying about watching Lucy and Alex squirm.

“Bike’s in the shop. I just thumbed a lift.”

And with that they saunter out the locker room, Alex and Lucy already bickering behind them.

They head to their computer, smoothly dodging Winn who’s wearing VR goggles and zooming around happily in his wheely chair. They put their headset on, tuning out the quiet chatter of a team on a routine patrol until it’s just white noise and set to reading over some code Winn sent. They actually manage to get five and a half minutes of work done before Kara comes sidling up to their desk.

“Sooo,” Kara says, playing with the edges of some paperwork in Vas’ in-tray. “Good night last night?”

“You’re as nosy as your sister, Danvers.”

“Wha- me? Nosy? Psshh.” Kara waves a hand, that adorable look on her face she gets when she’s trying to bluff. “I’m just… catching up, y’know. Haven’t spoken since-“

“You texted me and asked if I wanted coffee?”

“When was that? I don’t really…”

“Half an hour ago. Hey, complete change of subject but do you know how to play poker?”

“Just say no, Supergirl.” J’onn growls, spoiling Vasquez’s fun. “Agent Vasquez, I heard your motorcycle is out of commission. Do you need to borrow something from the garage?”

“No thanks sir. I have a ride sorted.”

“That’s what I wanted to ask about,” Kara says, jumping on the opportunity. “That was a very nice car.”

“Hmm.” Vasquez grins. “Driver wasn’t bad either.”

Supergirl makes an odd noise, taps out a quick rhythm on the table top. Vasquez is a highly trained agent and knows how to hold themself together, but damn, Kara’s making it hard.

“Did you not use your x-ray vision?” Vas asks.

“Didn’t think it was polite,” Kara mumbles.

She’s probably kicking herself with those nice red boots, Vasquez thinks. It’s hilarious. They spot Alex and Lucy leaving the locker room, both of them in badass agent mode and immediately starts paying attention.

There’s been an accident just outside of the city, an unmanned alien vehicle out of control. Kara’s already away with a whoosh that sends Vas’s paperwork flying, Alex and Lucy following her much more slowly out the door. Vasquez pulls up as many traffic cam feeds as they can, searching quickly for a good view of the accident.

It looks like a small, sleek vehicle has collided with a lorry, burying itself in the side. Billows of strangely coloured steam curl from a small fire raging in the wreckage, the occasional cascade of sparks shooting out towards the traffic snarling behind the crash like fireworks. Three cars back from the crash Vas can make out a familiar black Ferrari. The driver’s door opens and a slim figure gets out, the small first aid kit Vasquez made her start carrying in her hand.

Supergirl lands suddenly, blocking Vasquez’s view of Lena Luthor hurrying towards the crash site. Cursing under their breath, Vasquez pulls up another feed, checks Alex’s tracker to see how close she is.

Kara’s freeze breath easily puts out the fire. She pulls out the lorry driver, stunned but alive, and gently sits him at the side of the road. She must tell Lena to keep back as she approaches because Lena scoffs, picks her way over the debris daintily in her very expensive heels brandishing the first aid kit.

Vasquez can hear Supergirl over the comms.

“Keep back Ms Luthor, this could be dangero- oh okay, never mind.”

“Supergirl,” Vasquez asks calmly, burying the spark of fear deep down in their belly. “What’s she doing?”

“She says the lorry’s hers, it’s transporting a prototype.”

“Oh shit, that was today.”

“Um, yeah.”

Vasquez clears their throat. “Agent Danvers is en route, ETA one minute. Is the driver hurt?”

On their screen they can see Lena checking the guy over. He’s conscious, doesn’t seem to be hurt more than a few scrapes. Better safe than sorry though. “Take him to the hospital.”

J’onn’s asking what the prototype is, where Lena was taking it, probably what she ate for breakfast knowing him but Vas is busy checking every cam in a hundred meter radius, checking for danger as Lena makes her way over to the wreckage. She starts digging through the mess of twisted metal and burned canvas, and Vasquez can’t tell if she’s looking for the prototype or examining the alien vehicle.

They find a new angle just as Alex’s van screeches to a halt and roll their eyes when they catch Lena pocketing a bit of debris. Alex jumps out, Lucy not far behind. The both of them are in full tactical gear but Vasquez can’t make out a single threat in the area.

“What the hell is she doing here?” Alex asks, and Vas watches as she approaches Lena.

“Lorry’s hers,” they jump in. They decide not to mention the tech theft for now, it’ll only make things worse for Lena and Vasquez can easily confiscate it.

“Bring her in for questioning,” J’onn demands. He’s hovering behind Vasquez, which makes a change from his usual pacing but is still very uncomfortable when he’s ordering the arrest of their girlfriend.

J’onn stiffens behind them.

You can read minds, Vasquez thinks. I forgot.

“Do you know anything about this, Agent?”

“I knew she was taking a new piece of tech out of town for testing, and I know it’s harmless because I helped build it.”

“Do you know why anyone would want to destroy it?”

“It helps people and she’s a Luthor,” they snipe, not bothering to hide anything from J’onn.

J’onn clears his throat but doesn’t say anything. Vas knows they won’t have changed his mind at all, but they also know he respects and trusts them enough to hear Lena out.

Alex checks in and says she’ll be five minutes. Vasquez gets back to work. They dispatch a couple of agents to the hospital to watch the driver, organise a clean-up crew for the wreckage and a tow truck to pick up the alien vehicle. They know Lena’s machine will be brought back as evidence so they send Terry, who won’t manhandle and break the thing any more than it already has been. Vasquez sighs. Lena had worked so hard on that project, a machine that could plant, maintain and harvest crops all on its own. It could be cheaply and safely manufactured, easily built and disassembled by local workers, and what asshole in their right mind would want to deprive to world of that?

They’re distracted by Lena being escorted in the front door. Escorted being too strong a word maybe, given she was striding in way ahead of Alex and Lucy, head held high and wearing the most glorious resting bitch face Vasquez has ever seen her pull.

Vasquez gets out of their seat, hurrying behind J’onn to meet Lena in front of the computer bank. They must look worried because Lena shoots them a brief, comforting smile. When Vas got so attached to Lena they don’t know, but they care about her enough for it to show.

“Thank you for coming Ms Luthor,” J’onn starts. “We just need to ask you some questions.”

“It’s a harmless prototype I’m developing to help reduce widespread famine. I was escorting it to the desert to test the range of movement over a wide area. As you’ll see when you no doubt bring it in it’s perfectly safe. I don’t recognise the vehicle that crashed into the lorry, I didn’t see what happened, I am not in any way involved.”

“I…”

“Any more questions or do I need to call my lawyers?”

“She’s telling the truth,” Winn pipes up. He scurries over with a tablet, shows J’onn the data from the traffic cameras, the Ferrari’s on-board computer, probably Lena’s cell phone and email data too but they don’t want to tell her that. “There’s nothing to prove she has anything to do with the crash.”

J’onn clears his throat. “Thank you for your time, Ms Luthor.”

“I’m free to go?”

J’onn nods, and Lena turns on her heel and strides right back out the building. Vas can hear the Ferrari’s engine from where they’re standing, and they realise one of Alex or Lucy will have driven it back. The two of them are waiting by their computer when they turn around, expectant looks on their faces and arms crossed. They sigh, and motion in the direction of Alex’s lab.

“You’re dating Lena Luthor?”

“Did you not hear me the first time or…”

Alex is leaning against her desk, a look of shock on her face. Lucy’s pacing, scrambling for words and it’d be hilarious if Vasquez wasn’t so worried about Lena.

“Since when?” Alex asks.

“About four months now,” Vas replies. “We met at a bar.”

“Really? Not that exciting.” Lucy says.

Vas half-heartedly waggles their brows and Lucy sputters. “We’re so getting into this later Vasquez. But right now… how likely is she to do something stupid?”

“Remember that fundraiser?” Vasquez takes their phone out their pocket. Nothing from Lena, she knows they’ll be busy with the crash, knows she might even get a head start whilst they’re still working. Vas hits speed dial.

“Voicemail,” they grumble.

“Think you can talk her down?” Alex asks.

“I’ll go to her office.”

They start to make their way out of the lab, but Alex stops them. “You really care about her, huh?”

Vas nods. “I do.”

“We’ll do what we can to find out what happened and keep her safe,” Lucy promises.

“Thanks,” Vasquez says. They know it must be hard for them, hell they didn’t trust Lena at first either, but now her last name doesn’t mean shit to Vasquez except the fact it can get them both into fancy clubs and cosy little booths at expensive restaurants.

“Stay safe,” Alex calls as they rush out of the lab.

Vasquez chuckles to themself. Working so long at the DEO, fighting alongside superheroes every day, catching Winn trying to wipe his browsing history? Safe isn’t even in their vocabulary.

#supergirl #fic #vasquez #lena luthor #VasLena #nb!vasquez

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queercapwriting · 8 years ago

Note

Would you write NB Alex having sex with Maggie for the first time since coming out?

They haven’t had sex since Alex came out.

Not that Maggie hasn’t wanted to. God, has she wanted to.

And not that Alex hasn’t wanted to. God, have they wantedto.

But their fear’s been outweighing their need, and Maggiereminds them every day that she’s here, that she’s not going anywhere, thatAlex is the one she wants, the only one, no matter what – “ride or die doesn’texclude pronouns, Danvers” – but every time they kiss, Alex feels Maggieholding back.

So every time they kiss, Alex feels like Maggie’s just beingnice to them, just sticking around until Alex is secure enough with this wholecoming out part two thing to be fine on their own.

“Do you not want me?” they splutter on the couch one night,a week or so into binding – only on some days, only in some moods – a few weeks or so after the haircut, a month or soafter starting to come out.

“I… what? Al, what are you – yes, of course I want you, I –”

“You’ve been holding back. You’ve been… I don’t know,Maggie, I just feel like you’re not into me… physically… since…”

Their jaw sets and they look away and Maggie gasps softlyand Maggie curses internally because of course, of course she’s fuckedeverything up again, of course she has.

“Alex, babe, no, that’s not… I’m sorry. Alex, look at me.Please? Al, I want you. I do. More than I ever have, I’m just… you are goingthrough so much right now, with yourself, with your body, and I wanted to letyou take the lead, I wanted to let show me what you want, in case what you wantis different now, and it’s okay if it is, but I can’t know unless you tell me,unless you show me, so I held back and when you didn’t go forward, I justthought… I thought you weren’t ready. That you didn’t want to start having sexagain yet, that… that you were still figuring things out.”

“So… so you do. Want me.” Their eyes are soft and vulnerableand hopeful, and god, yes, yes, yes, does Maggie want them.

“Alex Danvers, I can’t imagine myself ever not wanting you.”

Alex gulps and runs a hand through their newly shortenedhair and takes a deep, long breath, eyes locked into Maggie’s.

“Then let me take you to bed.”

Maggie’s breath hitches and she nods and accepts Alex’s handand chews on her lip watching Alex walk, watching Alex’s thumb caress the padof her hand, watching Alex turn at the bed and look at her like they’venever been quite this starving for anything before.

“Kiss me, Al?” Maggie asks, her voice so small, and Alexobliges with a sureness, a steadiness, that reminds Maggie of their very firstkiss; with a sureness, a steadiness, that makes Maggie swoon in a way shewouldn’t allow herself to that first time in the bar.

Alex’s strong arms keep her standing and turn her around,even as they keep kissing her, even as their tongue slips past her open lipsand they groan their relief into Maggie’s mouth.

“You wanna lay down for me?” they ask, their voice raggedand needy and everything Maggie wants to hear.

“Yeah,” she breathes and lays back on the bed, smiling whenAlex, as always, rushes to make sure her head rests on the softest pillow.

“I missed your body,” Alex whispers, straddling her andstaring down at her like she’s got nothing on even though she’s still in herhenley and jeans.

“I’ve missed yours,” Maggie answers, and Alex stiffens.

“Al. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant… You tell me whatyou want, you show me. I’m not gonna ask to touch you wherever or however youdon’t wanna be touched. And if you wanna be touched somewhere and then youchange your mind, that’s okay. And if what we do tonight is different from whatwe do tomorrow night, that’s okay, too. I just want you, Alex. I want all ofyou, whatever you want to give me. And if you’re not sure, we’ll figure it outtogether. Okay?”

Alex swallows their relieved tears into a searing kiss thathas Maggie whining and writhing underneath them, and Alex moans into her mouth,their hands pausing at the hem of Maggie’s shirt.

“Yes, please, please, please,” Maggie begs, and Alex grinsas they lean back and tug Maggie into a sitting position, tugging her henleyabove her head and bringing their fingers to rest on the back of Maggie’s bra.

“Can I?” they ask, and the wrecked raggedness in their voicealmost destroys Maggie, and she decides she never wants to be anything butruined underneath Alex again.

“Yeah,” she husks, and Alex unhooks Maggie’s bra in one go,a shit-eating grin forming on their face.

“Proud of yourself there, Danvers?” Maggie flirts, and Alexpffts.

“I… No. That’s ridiculous, I can diffuse bombs, I’m not proud of myself for… yeah. Yeah, I’m prettyproud of myself.”

“Good, you should be,” Maggie rasps into their ear, and Alexgroans and pushes Maggie back down on the bed.

“Okay?”

“Oh yeah.”

Alex grins and kisses their way down Maggie’s collarbone,pausing above her whimpering form to ask with their eyes if they can take hernipple into their mouth. Maggie nods wordlessly, because words won’t form rightnow, and Alex’s mouth is warm and wet and hot and Alex’s mouth is absolutelyperfect.

Maggie grabs at Alex’s short hair and Alex moans and Maggiegrabs harder.

“Fuck,” Alex swears into her chest, and it’s Maggie’s turnto be proud of herself, even as she lays writhing under Alex’s tongue, Alex’steeth, Alex’s lips.

“I want… Al, I… do you want my mouth on you?”

Alex stills and looks up, a combination of lust andconfusion in their eyes.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well, I um… I love what you’re doing to me, and I just kindof… wanted to know if I could return the favor. Maybe… suck you off? If youwanted?”

Alex’s eyes roll into the back of their head and they moandeep from the back of their throat. “Maggie, how – I haven’t gotten a strap-onI like yet – ”

“And I can’t wait for when you do. But um… there’s other ways tosuck you off. Sit up. If you want.”

Alex furrows their brow, but they’re curious and god, god,god do they want what Maggie’s suggesting, and god, god, god do they trust thewoman licking her lips and looking at Alex – boy haircut and boy tank top andmarks from their binder still on their skin under that tank top – like she’snever seen anyone more attractive. More beautiful or more handsome. Moredesirable.

So Alex sits and Maggie gestures them to the edge of thebed, and Maggie slips off the bed and Maggie kneels and Maggie looks up atthem with swollen lips and raw passion in her eyes and Alex nearly passes outbecause fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Do you trust me?” she asks, and Alex nods because yes, ofcourse, yes, of course they do.

“Do you want to take off your shirt for me? You don’t haveto.”

Alex’s heart races and Alex gulps but Maggie’s been helpingthem with their binder and Maggie’s been perfect and it’s nothing Maggie hasn’tseen and it’s Maggie, it’s Maggie, so yes, Alex slips off their shirt andMaggie grins softly and kisses a trail along the small marks left from thebinder they took off when they got home.

And then Alex’s heart really starts racing, because thenMaggie leans up from kneeling and runs her tongue along one of Alex’s nipples,and Alex hisses and Maggie stops and Alex shakes their head because they thinkthey know what Maggie’s doing and god, god, god, Maggie is perfect.

And sure enough, she takes Alex into her mouth like she’s going down on them, and her eyes are glued on Alex’s as her lips close aroundAlex’s nipple, around their chest, and Alex looks down and Maggie’s kneelingfor them and Maggie’s respecting them and Maggie’s sucking them off becauseMaggie doesn’t care what pronouns Alex uses, she just wants to make Alex happy,make Alex feel validated, make Alex feel connected to their body, make Alexfeel fucking incredible, and god, fuck, dammit, they do.

“You like it, Al?” she pauses to ask, and Alex doesn’tremember words, so they tangle their fingers into Maggie’s hair and bring herhead back toward their body, and Maggie moans happily, eagerly, and continueswith her tongue, with her mouth, with her lips, with her eyes.

When Alex can’t take anymore – when the visual, the feeling of pure validation, of Maggiegiving them a blowjob on a part of their body that they’d been feeling so confused about and suddenly felt so fucking alive with, but in their own way, is too much, is going tomake them pass out from relief, from desire, from intensity – they pull backand offer Maggie their hands, pulling her off of her knees and back onto thebed.

“Can I take your pants off?” they ask clumsily, becauseright now, all they need is Maggie, and words are getting in the way of that.

Maggie chuckles and brings her pants down herself, her eyeson Alex’s face the entire time.

“Something you want to do to me, Danvers?”

Alex shakes their head, their lust, their need, paused for amoment, because god, Maggie is gorgeous. And they tell her so, and Maggie bitesher lip and smiles, suddenly shy, and that shyness makes Alex love her evenmore somehow.

They slip their tank top back on and Maggie nods softly,making a note in her head, and shrug their jeans off but leave their boxers on,something else that Maggie smiles at faintly and nods softly about.

Alex loves being paid this much attention to, being thisheard, but right now? Right now, they want to give all that attention toMaggie.

“Spread your legs for me?” they ask, and Maggie gaspsharshly, loudly, and Alex grins as they kiss their way up Maggie’s open thighs,Maggie whimpering and starting to thrash her hips and twist her fingers intothe bedsheets to try, in vain, to control her need.

“Al,” she pants, and Alex smiles up at her.

“I’ve missed the way you taste,” they tell her, and Maggietosses her head back in ecstasy, and it’s all the permission Alex needs to sealtheir lips over Maggie’s clit and lick slow, hard, solid, steady, until Maggiecomes completely undone, until Maggie begs please, please, Al, I need youinside me, Alex, please baby, please, and god, does Alex love fulfillingMaggie’s requests.

They slip their fingers one at a time into Maggie’s soakedopening and Maggie whimpers and screams and keeps begging for more, and Alexgives more, takes more, does more, bringing their lips back down onto Maggie’sclit until she cums, hard and chaotic and loud and perfect, all over Alex’sfingers, all over their eager tongue.

“Alex,” Maggie sighs as she comes down from her high, asAlex crawls back up her body and wraps her up with theirs.

“I got you, babe,” they tell her, and she curls contentedlyinto their shoulder.

“I wanna get you too,” she tells them, but Alex just grinsand kisses her forehead.

“Next time, Maggie. Right now? Right now I wanna hold you.”

Maggie nods and tosses one of her legs over Alex, burrowingonto them completely.

“Don’t let go?” she asks, and Alex kisses her hair for along moment.

“Never,” they tell her, and they mean it as a promise.

#sanvers #sanvers minific #sanvers smut #nb!alex #nonbinary alex danvers

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