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bigskydreaming · 3 years ago

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Doing some writing today off and on between errands and work, and jumping around various Kings of the Sky installments, specifically Dick, Jason and Cass stuff, so probably gonna post snippets from a bunch of them as I go.

(Kings of the Sky is an AU that goes canon divergent from the point of Jason calling Dick for advice for dealing with Bruce after the Garzonas case and where things end up going dramatically different from that point on. Including Jason not dying, being part of his own lineup of Titans between Dick and Tim’s, Dick being adopted not long after the Church of Blood incident, Cass being the third Wayne kid to be taken in and adopted and with Tim and Duke being next and then Damian coming along later once they find out about him. This is basically my ‘the family’s alright’ AU with largely ‘Good Dad Bruce’ except for Dick and then Jason yelling some sense into him about the other, respectively, in the first two installments, just FYI).

Anyway, this bit is from a story called “In Their Shadows Grow Trees Of Good and Evil,” set about a year after Cass has been adopted, when she and Jason are both sixteen and Dick’s twenty-one. Also just FYI, because canon has never been specific about what ways Cass is neurodivergent due to the comic-book style ‘rewiring’ of her brain so that she could learn to speak later in life, I tend to go with her being dyslexic and having aphasia. She sticks exclusively to sign language and being a silent presence in her costumed personas, so that there’s no chance of people connecting the dots between Black Bat and Cassandra Wayne, as she mostly speaks verbally in her civilian persona and doesn’t hide her aphasia. The reason there’s not likely to be any obvious signs of aphasia in the snippets of her I post is because I wait until I complete something to choose words at random to replace with aphasia-born mixups, so its more realistic and I’m not gearing her dialogue towards deliberately placed moments. Just in case you were wondering.

In Their Shadows Grow Trees of Good and Evil

“Hey Todd,” sneered an exquisitely obnoxious voice. “Why’s your sister so fucking weird?”

Jason sighed the sigh of a soul a mere century into its eternity of damnation as he rose from the lunch table he’d been studying at and crammed the rest of his books into his backpack. Then he pasted a cheerfully bland smile on his face and turned around, geared for academia warfare (teenage prep school edition).

“Hey Craig,” he said brightly. “Why’d you come out of the womb so ugly your parents had to tie a piece of steak around your neck just to get the family dog to go near you? Mysteries abound.”

The advancing junior slowed a step, momentarily rocked by his truly impressive return volley. The grimace Craig’s already gargoyle-esque features twisted into made his face even more unpleasant to look at than usual, which was quite the feat. Jason would have applauded if just looking at it hadn’t already turned him to stone.

But the bargain basement basilisk kept on towards him rather than turn tail and skulk off to pop his emotional blisters, so Jason sighed a sequel to his first one. Looked like it was one of those days where Craig felt up to powering through. Guess someone had eaten their self-esteem Wheaties that morning. Joy.

“You think you’re pretty hot shit, don’t you, Todd?”

Jason shrugged. “I mean, to be honest I kinda have a one track mind, so right now I’m mostly just thinking about punching you in your mistake.”

“My what?”

“Your face,” Jason elaborated with exaggerated patience.

“Huh?”

“Oh my god, I’m saying your face is a mistake. See, its not as fun when I have to stop and explain it to you. Ugh, you ruin everything.”

He neatly sidestepped the older boy as R2-Dumbass stayed frozen, smoke coming off of his internal CPU while trying to catch up. For a second Jason thought he was home free, but then he remembered the universe fucking hated him so haha, sucks to suck. Also, a small crowd had gathered to witness the verbal jousting match, and nothing invigorated an asshole like Craig more than an audience of like-minded peers. So there was that too.

“Whatever. Laugh it up all you want, you little shit,” the junior rallied. “But just remember, mocking your betters will never change the fact that you were born street trash and you’ll be street trash until the day you die.”

Honestly? Not his best effort. Jason almost felt bad using any of his good material. Seemed like overkill at this point. But he did have a strict Scorched Earth policy to maintain, so.....

“Yeah but my dad could buy out and ruin your dad so that means I still win, right?”

He smirked as the barb landed and Craig’s face set into a sunset vista of strangled purple and furious red. Bam. Direct hit.

“Listen, you - “

“Oh for fuck’s sake, it was rhetorical,” Jason interrupted. “I don’t actually care what you think even a little bit. Nobody does. You don’t matter. Please go be irrelevant elsewhere, you’re fucking dismissed, you loser.”

“Speak for yourself, charity case.” Oh goodie, Craig’s backup singers had finally arrived. Now if only he could remember to care enough to learn their names in the first place. Seriously, who told the extras they could have lines? “All the jokes in the world can’t change who and what you are.”

Jason shrugged and continued nonchalantly up the hill to where his sister was standing with arms crossed, staring down at something on the other side.

“True genius is never appreciated in its own time,” he tossed back over his shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll be immortalized in song eventually.”

The mob of morons deigned to let him go without further incident. Though he suspected that had less to do with his scathing wit and more to do with him being headed towards Cass. She was immaculately presented as always, wearing the Gotham Academy uniform like she was born to it despite hating its uncomfortable stiffness every bit as much as he did. But that was just Cass for you.

For all that she still struggled at times to engage verbally or speak up in social settings, her mastery of body language remained without peer. She could chameleon-camouflage her way into matching poise and posture with anyone - a skill that had allowed her to walk into school on her very first day with her head held high as though she owned everything in her sight. Exuding so much Queen Bee Intimidation Factor even the other hive queens were afraid to approach her themselves. Sending forth their drones to try and woo her into an alliance, only to see her remain oh-so-casually above it all, a slightly contemptuous smile adorning her lips.

Basically, she scared the shit out of their classmates without them having anywhere close to a true understanding of why, and Jason was outrageously jealous. Rude. Unfair. Why did his siblings always get all the cool toys when all he had was his rakish charm, scintillating intellect and debonair.....nah, who was he kidding. He was fucking awesome.

“Sup, sis,” he said, cresting the hill to stand beside Cass. “Just FYI, I just took a popularity bullet for you, which means you owe me your dessert tonight. Its a family rule that’s totally a real thing and definitely not something I just made up right now because Alf is making chocolate soufflé.”

She made no acknowledgment and remained stock still, a Colossus at Rhodes peering down into the shifting shadows of the parking lot below.

He peered down as well, though with absolutely no idea what they were looking at. Solidarity, yo.

“So are we staring fixedly at anything in particular, or should I just pick my own spot and commit?”

His humor was totally wasted on her as always. Instead of laughing and telling him what a lovable goof he was, she just inclined her head in the direction of a blonde girl where she was standing next to the driver’s side door of a Mercedes-Benz, dictating final commandments to her peons before departing. Well, probably. Jason was just guessing, based on his own body language reads, and like, general disdain for literally everyone at this school that wasn’t related to him.

He made a face. An extra special one reserved just for this classmate in particular. “Ugh, Madison Dunleavy? She’s the worst.”

Cass raised a cool eyebrow. “I thought Craig Hendricks was the worst.”

“He is. They’re both the worst. Its a hotly contested position here at Gotham Academy.”

She rolled her eyes and nodded back down at the Queen of Air and Darkness. “So. You know her?”

“Nope,” Jason said. “Come to think of it, I’ve actually never seen her in my life. No idea who that is. Can’t help you, sorry. Shall we go home?”

The Eyebrow of Inquisition speared him with clear intent. Who the fuck needed words when you could pack the Encyclopedia Britannica into a single facial expression?

Jason sighed gustily.

“I had a slight altercation with her freshman year that led to her declaring her undying enmity for me until the end of time. The word nemesis may or may not have been thrown around once or twice. I can’t recall.”

The Eyebrow of Inquisition lowered nary an inch. Ugh, she wanted more? Why did everyone in his family hate privacy, with the obvious exclusion of himself when snooping through Cass and Dick’s rooms for blackmail material, which was actually intel-gathering and thus another matter entirely.

“Okay so basically what happened was my first week here I overheard her talking shit about me and not even twenty minutes later she was pretending to kiss my ass in homeroom, like probably because of Bruce, y’know? So I just busted out laughing and told her to fuck off and die and she has inexplicably loathed me ever since.”

Avoiding further Eyebrow Inquisition-ing, he made a show of peering around aimlessly. When the silence extended and it was clear Cass was absolutely not going to break first, Jason waved a hand in dismissal and took to peering oh so casually at his fingernails. "I suppose I was less tactful back in those days.”

He chanced a look up, finally, and saw his sister’s eyebrow had somehow managed to mighty morphin power ranger its way into a configuration evoking both judgment and disbelief, with the latter perhaps aimed at the idea he was significantly differing in the tact department these days either.

“I don’t love the implications your face is making right now,” he told her.

She ignored him, because of course she did.

“Does she know Dick?” She asked instead. Jason shrugged.

“I mean, maybe? She’s probably seen him around at one of those stupid galas we have to go to, and actually I think maybe she has an older brother who was either in Dick’s grade or like, one above or below it? I don’t know.”

Now both eyebrows were doing the dance of disbelief. Okay, so maybe that was poor situational awareness on his part, since it wasn’t like Gotham Academy was a big school with a ton of other kids and also he’d only been in the same class as Madison for like over two whole years, but whatever. There were extingent circumstances.

“Look, she’s a total snob who’s always looked down on me and in return I willfully ignore both her existence and that of everyone and everything even tangentially related to her. Its called equality, Cass.”

She pursed her lips and went back to the peering, because of course in the mind of Cass it made total sense that the Grand Inquisition didn’t need to be followed up by any explanation on her part, what the hell. Like was he supposed to have inferred it?

“What’s this all about anyway?”

“I heard her talking about Dick earlier,” she said without peeling her eyes away from her personal recon mission. “I don’t know what she said though, I just heard her say Grayson, and then I was busy looking at what her body was saying. I know it was about Dick because she shut down when she saw me. And I didn’t like the way she....looked....before that happened. The way she was talking. It was.....”

Jason frowned but held back any follow-up questions while he waited - with total patience because he wasn’t an absolute cad, thank you very much - for his sister to find the word she was hunting for. It was a major source of frustration for her, that whatever neural map her brain followed put body language and spoken language in totally different regions of her brain, separated by a fairly great divide. Meaning she usually had to make a conscious choice to focus on body language or conventional languages - whether verbal or sign. But it tended to be one or the other; she’d yet to master taking in and comprehending both forms of ‘language’ at the same time. And none of them had quite figured out how to convince her that she wasn’t actually missing anything when she chose to focus on one specific form of communication - that she was still observing far more than most people ever would.

“Proprietary,” Cass settled on at last. She nodded her satisfaction with her choice of word, and Jason waited a whole two point five seconds before sticking his whole foot in his mouth.

“Proprietary?” He asked with a scrunched nose as he weighed that for possible context and implications. “You sure?”

She glared. He winced. It was a whole thing.

“Yeah, I know, sorry, sorry, I heard it the second it was out of my mouth. We don’t actually have to experiment with the legitimacy of if looks could kill.”

Cass rolled her eyes, but eh. That could’ve gone worse.

Jason swiftly redirected attention anyway. Discretion is the better part of valor, after all.

“So. The Queen of Air and Darkness was talking about our big bro, and her mood was.....proprietary, huh?” He recapped while digesting the info like a boss. “Well. Definitely not loving that, I gotta say. Hold please.”

Pulling out his phone and pulling up his most recent texts, he began typing furiously.

“What are you doing?” Cass asked.

“Texting Tom,” he replied, because duh. Hah, now it was his chance to have the answers that should be patently obvious and thus make with the ‘are you kidding me’ when she asked obvious questions she should know the answer to! How do you like them apples, sis?

“Why are you texting your boyfriend right now?”

Jason rolled his eyes, because fair is fair, but never ceased texting for a moment. Time was of the essence here, probably. Well, maybe. Okay probably not. But it’d still been like half an hour since he and Tom had last texted and that’s a very fucking long time in teenage years.

“To be our getaway driver tonight, obviously.”

She stared at him. He didn’t look up, but he could feel it anyway. He was very intuitive like that.

“What?”

Jason heaved another sigh, one keyed to tones of ‘oh my god, do I really have to spell this out,” exasperation. He was just racking up the bonus points here. It was really too bad this wasn’t an actual competition he could actually win and this was all just pettiness taking place wholly in his own head. Lame.

“Well, clearly we now have to go snoop in Madison’s house aka lair to see if its actually a house or a full on lair. Because she’s either a creeper or like, legit evil, and its important to know which one before we proceed, because obviously we can only bust her for being a weird creeper about our brother as Jason and Cass, whereas if she’s legit evil, that’s gotta go down as Robin and Black Bat. I’ll handle the snooping, you’ll take look-out, but we still need a wheelman and that’s why I’m texting Tom. This is all very mission-oriented, okay. I’m a professional.”

“Right,” she affirmed, while sounding anything but convinced. “Why don’t we just tell Bruce?”

Without looking up or breaking stride, he said: “I’m going to give you til I finish typing this sentence to figure out what was wrong with what you just said. Remember that we are talking about hypothetical danger to our brother, and also Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response to any of his children being in even hypothetical danger. And also our brother’s idea of a proportionate response to Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response. Look, you’re still new so I’m gonna need you to just trust me on this one. Its gonna be a no on telling Bruce without further intel.”

Cass said nothing in response to that, which meant that she was conceding the point and recognized the wisdom of his words. Or maybe that she was just gonna go ahead and do what she wanted anyway and just wasn’t bothering to fight about it, but it was probably that first thing.

“Well you better not just make out with your boyfriend all night,” is what she said at last, and that got his attention reeeeeal quick like.

“Umm. Wow. Okay. So, first off, you’re not the boss of me and who I make out with and when, so jot that down. And second, now I’m definitely going to make out with my boyfriend extra hard, with the exception of when we are actually on our recon mission because as previously established, I am a professional. And also, again, you’re not the boss of me.”

Jason ignored her Eye Roll With Extra Emphasis, and instead just held up his phone to Text With Extra Emphasis, as he read along with what he was typing.

“By the way babe, we have to make out extra hard tonight,” he said, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth while he dragged out his dictation with the kind of focus that usually led to Bruce asking why he couldn’t apply as much intensity to training as he did to pettiness. “Cass has suddenly decided she can dictate terms to me and I need to shut that shit down ASAP, so thank you in advance for your assistance in this matter. Smoochies and other gay stuff to the best boyfriend ever.”

Jason frowned as a response pinged back seconds later.

TheCatsMeow: ....the things I put up with for the sake of your weird family dynamics.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah, yeah. You’re a saint among were-panthers. Must you mock? Why can’t you just tell me I’m pretty instead?

TheCatsMeow: Sorry. Let me try again. OMG you’re so pretty Jase how did I get so lucky xoxo.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: No. Its too late. It feels forced and unbelievable now. You’ve ruined it forever.

TheCatsMeow: Got it. From now on I will only tell you that you’re repulsive and hideous.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: I’m breaking up with you.

TheCatsMeow: But after I help you with your mission tonight.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Obvsly. I’m a professional. Why do people keep forgetting this?

TheCatsMeow: And also the making out to spite your sister.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah we should do that first too. I mean we already penciled it in.

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mosswillow · 4 years ago

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I love your dark avengers fic list can you please do a headcannon for their reactions after they find out their wife's are pregnant and also a baby shower

Hey Anon, Thank you so much for the request and for reading Synonyms. I usually don’t write pregnancy since I had a few that were not super fun. I’m really glad you asked this though cause I was feeling ok and told myself just to do one or two bullet points for each and see how I felt. It’s still a pretty basic outline but I was able to do a lot more than I was expecting without triggering any anxiety.

Oh, also I’m asking that people confirm in some way that they’re over 18 when requesting anything. I decided to let this slide since my rule is new and not one I’ve seen anyone else have.

Sam - 1st pregnancy.

Finding out the reader is pregnant.

The reader gets pregnant almost immediately, like right after Loki kidnaps his girl.

Her period comes late and she starts freaking out.

She doesn’t say anything to Sam and hides it for several weeks.

Sam starts to notice she isn’t eating and she’s using the bathroom more often.

He walks in on her throwing up.

She tearfully tells him she thinks she’s pregnant.

He’s in shock. He sits next to her on the floor of the bathroom and then brings his hand to her stomach.

“I’ve always wanted a family,” he says.

Baby shower

Since It’s the first baby, the baby shower is really big.

The avenger all look at the ultrasound pictures and start talking about how they want their own.

All the other wives try hard to be happy but they all realize that they’re next.

Bucky’s reader faints.

Bucky - 2nd pregnancy

Finding out the reader is pregnant.

Bucky tells the reader he won’t force a pregnancy and lets her use birth control.

After a few months he switches it out with placebos.

The reader has irregular cycles and doesn’t know she’s pregnant.

When they’re at Sam's baby shower she ends up fainting and getting taken to the hospital.

The doctor comes in and tells her the “good” news and Bucky holds her while she cries.

Baby shower

The baby shower is a tea party just between the readers.

During it Steve's wife reveals she’s pregnant as well.

They know they’re being watched so they all say congratulations but give pointed looks.

“We should do this more often, to share pregnancy stories and tips.”

Steve - third pregnancy.

Finding out the reader is pregnant

Steve is really involved with the whole process of babymaking.

He reads books and buys tests for ovulation.

The reader finds out from Steve that she’s pregnant. She thinks she’s taking an ovulation test but it’s actually a pregnancy test.

“You’re pregnant and now everything is how it should be.”

Baby shower

Steve plans the whole baby shower.

It’s a huge party with all the avengers.

During it the reader starts getting contractions and tries to hide them.

Steve pulls her aside because he’s upset she’s not acting happy and she starts crying because she’s now in too much pain.

It ends up being false labor and she goes on bedrest for the remainder of the pregnancy.

Thor - fourth pregnancy

Finding out reader is pregnant.

The reader is pissed when she finds out she’s pregnant.

Thor tries to cuddle with her and she pushes him away.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you but your attitude needs to change before I start getting angry.”

She lets him cuddle her but starts crying.

“Ok, what’s wrong?”

“I think my period is coming.”

“You’re lying.”

She shakes her head and he reaches between her legs and forces the truth out of her.

“I’m pregnant” She finally says between sobs.

He brings another orgasm out of her and rubs her belly.

“Don’t cry, it’s a good thing.” he says

Baby shower

They have the baby shower at a park.

Earlier in the day the reader had an ultrasound and everything started feeling super real.

All the avengers are distracted making food and the reader just starts walking off and doesn’t stop.

She’s picked up quickly and locked away.

She realizes though that escaping may be possible if she had a plan.

Tony - fifth pregnancy.

Finding out the reader is pregnant

The reader is able to avoid pregnancy for a long time by hiding a diy birth control.

This birth control is not safe and borderline poison and makes her sick.

She starts losing weight and feeling nauseous.

Tony finds out about her hidden birth control and gets really angry.

He takes her to the doctor to make sure everything is ok.

But she’s already almost twelve weeks pregnant.

He freaks out and has a bunch of tests done to make sure the baby is ok.

Thankfully it’s healthy and strong.

He cries when he hears the baby is ok and phones everyone he knows excited telling them that he’s going to be a dad.

Baby shower

The reader plans the baby shower.

Since so many of them are pregnant the theme is pregnancy cravings.

They have a bunch of typical foods a pregnant person may crave.

It’s the first time Thor's reader is allowed out after what happened and none of them say anything about it directly but they communicate that they’re on her side.

Natasha - Sixth pregnancy

Finding out the reader is pregnant

Steve helps the reader get pregnant.

She gets pregnant right after Tony’s reader.

When they go to the ultrasound, oh hey, it’s twins.

Natasha is shocked and really happy, the reader is terrified.

Baby shower

The baby shower is also a gender reveal. One girl and one boy.

Natasha gifts the reader a bookshelf full of baby books during the shower and the reader bursts into tears.

“It’s beautiful, I love it,” she lies and isn’t fully convincing.

“I was the same way crying all the time no matter how happy or sad I was.” Bucky’s reader rescues her.

Loki - seventh pregnancy

Finding out reader is pregnant

Loki doesn’t want kids at first but when he sees Thors he changes his mind.

The reader gets pregnant quickly and doesn’t hide it.

Loki looks at the test and just stares at it for a while, looking back and forth between the test and the readers stomach.

“Well this will be different”

Baby shower

The reader convinces Loki to let her have a baby shower with just the readers.

They want to go to a mommy and me restaurant with the babies.

Everyone makes homemade gifts and acts really excited about the baby shower, nobody suspects anything.

They escape out the back one at a time. This time there’s a plan.

Over all head canon.

Throughout all of this the readers are basically creating their own language to talk to each other.

When Thors reader walks off they all get hopeful. That hope doesn’t leave even after she’s caught.

They were all sitting together and none of them said anything even though they all watched her walk away.

They come up with a plan to take their kids and run off world thanks to Thor's readers connections.

When it comes to the day they actually get pretty far before they’re caught.

“You tried to leave me, to take MY child with you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You will be.”

Peter - eighth and last pregnancy, happening several years after the last one.

Finding out the reader is pregnant

Everyone else is on their second baby when the reader gets pregnant with their first.

She confronts Tony’s reader and asks her what to do.

Tony’s reader tries to help but is interrupted by Tony.

They’re asked what they’re talking about and they both don’t say anything.

He starts getting angry “Do you want a repeat of last time you hid something.”

She shakes her head and starts crying but still doesn’t say anything.

“I’m pregnant.” Peter's reader finally says.

“You’re what?” Peter says from the doorway.

“Congrats Pete,” Tony pats Peter on the back.

Peter is overjoyed.

Baby shower

The shower keeps getting put off and finally happens at 38 weeks.

They don’t let them have party’s alone anymore so everyone is there.

They do a gender reveal.

It’s a boy, Peter jr.

The reader's water breaks and the baby comes so fast she ends up giving birth in the living room.

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alirhi · 3 years ago

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...goddess help me...

This fucking episode. *deep breath* This... This episode is where I'm expecting to get some serious hate. Let me just get this out of the way right up front:

I. Hate. Zemo.

I do not find him sympathetic, or funny, or charming. I find him creepy and annoying. I did not like him in CA:CW and I do not like him in TFATWS. If you are pro-Zemo, you are not going to like my version of this show from here on out. Just find something else to read and don't bother me about it. You've got the actual canon, so go enjoy that.

Got it? Good. Now, on to the main event!

Episode 3: The Power Broker

First of all, Sam doesn't let Bucky walk in there alone. No matter Bucky's (flimsy and nonsensical) argument, Sam's like "hell no. I go in with you, or you don't go in." The main reason for this isn't to keep Bucky from breaking Zemo out of prison (with decent writing, he would never do that) - it's so that Sam witnesses Zemo taunting Bucky with/about the trigger words. because Zemo is a piece of shit.

Since he doesn't know the full story, Sam is confused, but he files this interaction away to ask Bucky about later. He's listening to Zemo acknowledging that Bucky was "not conscious for most of [his] imprisonment" (which, yes, clearly refers to the time he spent frozen, but can also mean while he was under their control as TWS/"The Asset" - also, key word: imprisonment) and when he calls Bucky a means to an end, Sam scowls, looking ready to go off on him, but he waits. They've got more important issues.

Neither of them entertains the thought of breaking Zemo out for even a nanosecond. He does that shit himself. And literally the only reason I'm sticking with him getting out at all is because I want to address some truly egregious moments linked directly to him in the show. Zemo makes them think he's setting them on the trail when really he's just sending them to his motor pool. Bucky and Sam are confused until they see Zemo in his stolen guard uniform, then they're both angry and want to ship him right back to prison, but he strikes a deal with them: "My help for my temporary freedom. Creating super soldiers cannot be allowed to continue; let me finish my work, and then do with me as you will." He has no intention of going quietly back to prison, obviously, and they're not stupid enough to believe otherwise, but they believe they can keep him on a short leash, so they agree for now. Anything to bring down the Flag Smashers and whoever created them.

After the title, we cut to Raynor on the phone in her office. She's agitated, fiddling with things on her desk. "No, sir," she's practically growling, "it was disrupted. - Walker did! - It's not my fault your new attack dog got off-leash!" She pauses, huffs, and says more calmly, "No. Of course not. I'm sorry. - Well, I don't see how, with the new Cap strutting around barking orders! - What am I supposed to do? Tell Captain America in front of a dozen witnesses that he can't have his predecessor's favorite pet because we're not done reprogramming him? I didn't see that going over too well. I made a call. - No. No, no, no, we can still use him. The work's not finished, but he still trusts me. He'll be back." A pause as she listens. Angry again, she snaps, "What do you want me to do, shove a tracker up his ass? He'll be back, and we'll pick right back up where we left off! - Don't worry, sir, the Asset will be fully compliant and ready to use soon. I'll make sure of it. - Yes, sir. You, too." She hangs up and tosses her phone on the couch, grumbling, "Dick."

Cut back to Sam, Bucky, and Zemo getting going on their trip to Madripoor. On the plane, Sam wants to talk to Bucky about what he's learned so far, but doesn't want to bring it up in front of Zemo... until the notebook incident reminds him that Zemo already knows more about Bucky than he does.

After Zemo's line about the list, Sam angrily corrects him: "You mean people HYDRA used The Winter Soldier to hurt." When Zemo shrugs and his response is basically along the lines of "what's the difference" Sam is like "oh hell no."

"Those words you were reciting at him," he reminds Zemo, "what were they, Russian? They clearly meant something. They were supposed to do something. What are they?" "Sam, let it go," Bucky pleads, unable to look at either of them. "It's nothing." "You wanna drown in your guilt, that's fine," Sam snaps, "but make sure it's for the right reasons." He turns back to Zemo, who's smiling at this exchange because he's a monster and thinks Bucky's suffering is fucking funny. "I asked you a question, Zemo. What did those words do?" "They activate the Winter Soldier programming," Bucky grudgingly admits. He doesn't want to talk about it, but he's sure as hell not going to let Zemo speak for him. "Or, they did, before the Wakandans got all that shit out of my head." "It's a shame," Zemo says with a smirk. "Imagine the possibilities that come with perfect obedience." "I think you mean 'slavery'," Sam growls, "and I think you're in the wrong crowd to be looking so pleased about it. Remember that we can send your ass back to prison any time." "Of course," Zemo agrees, but with an arrogant smile that shows he doesn't believe for a second that these two have any real power over him. Still, he bides his time and sits back quietly, watching Bucky fidget with the notebook. Sam turns back to Bucky, seeing his discomfort; he won't let the topic go, though, not yet. He just softens his tone. "So, they 'activated the Winter Soldier'? What exactly does that mean?" Bucky shrugs, still not looking up. "Pretty much what he said - perfect obedience. What little consciousness they left me between cryo and the chair was squashed down, locked away. And I did whatever I was told, exactly the way they told me to." It finally clicks. He'd had his suspicions before, of course, but now Sam gets it. Visibly horrified, he stares at this quiet, broken man, and finally sees the truth of what he'd been through for 70 years: "They stripped away your autonomy. Shit, Bucky, they didn't even let you be a person. That's..." He swallows, looking like he'll be sick any minute. "That's awful, man. I'm so sorry." When Bucky tries to shrug it off and downplay it again, Sam gets angry. "Look at me!" He waits; it takes a few seconds, but Bucky reluctantly looks up and is surprised to see just how upset Sam is on his behalf. "It wasn't your fault. None of it. When Steve said you didn't have a choice, I had no idea... You really, truly had no choice; not even the ability to choose. That's horrifying." "I doubt it would make much difference to the people he's killed," Zemo points out snidely. "Or their families. Let's ask Tony Stark, shall we?" "You shut the hell up," Sam growls. He watches Bucky flinch and make that face - the face he's starting to really fucking hate - that says he agrees with Zemo. Bucky still can't see things the way Sam does; he still feels the guilt and shame, and even when he himself pointed out his lack of agency under HYDRA, it didn't click for him that Sam is right, not Zemo.

It's too much, too soon. Sam sees that and decides to change the subject, to give Bucky some time to process. He nods at the notebook, and they have their little Marvin Gaye debate, where Sam is over the top about it on purpose, because Bucky needs the distraction.

Of course, Zemo ruins it by opening his big mouth again and reminding Bucky of more trauma: his time fighting in WWII. That's why Sam latches onto the bit about Madripoor; to keep the focus not only on the task at hand, but off of Bucky's past that he clearly still can't cope with.

"James... You will have to become someone you claim is gone." Sam is officially ready to throw Zemo out a window. 😂 The only reason he doesn't jump to Bucky's defense again and basically tell Zemo to fuck himself (in a PG-13 way 🙄) is because Bucky's, as Sam pointed out in ep2, a grown-ass man, and because he's just learned how few decisions this poor man has been able to make in his life. Sam doesn't want to come across as another "handler," deciding everything for him, even if he does think this plan is stupid and needlessly cruel.

At the bar, when asked if he wants "the usual", Sam just casually waves the bartender off like "nah". Zemo already said they had business to attend to, so it's not like anyone would be suspicious that now's probably not a good time to be doing weird shots lol. (wtf even was that? I'm not sure I want to know, but...what part of the snake did he drop into that drink?)

Sam's not an idiot (I'm really so sick of this trend of turning intelligent characters into morons because the writers can't think of any other way to move their plot along) so his cell phone has been off this whole time. No sudden call from Sarah to put them all in danger. There was really no point to that, anyway; Sharon likely would have killed Selby for talking about Nagle with or without the excuse of "saving" Sam and Bucky. I mean, it's not like they know who fired that shot, ever.

"They cleared the Bionic Staring Machine," Sam still jokes, but he follows it with, "and they think he's a mass-murderer." "They think?" Sharon stares at him incredulously. "Didn't he kill pretty much everyone he's ever met?" "Wow." Sam glances back at Bucky. "She really is awful now." To Sharon, he adds, "You met Steve; do you really think he'd have defied 117 countries to protect someone evil?" "He did it for Bucky," she points out. "Let's face it - Bucky could blow up half the planet, and Steve's loyal-to-a-fault ass would still take a bullet for him." "You know I'm sitting right here, right? I can hear you." "Look, I don't think you're evil, Bucky," Sharon assures him. "But I know you killed a lot of people for HYDRA." "I'm not denying it." "He didn't have a choice," Sam snaps, glaring at them both. "But we're not getting into that right now. My point is, the government's afraid of Bucky, and they still pardoned him. All you did was steal something. I'm sure they can be persuaded to see reason." "The day the US government sees reason," Sharon quips, rolling her eyes, "is the day I sprout real wings and fly off into the sunset." "Careful, Icarus," Bucky mocks with a smirk, "the sun and brand new wings don't exactly go together." Then he shrugs and glances at Sam. "But she's not wrong."

At the party that night, it takes a few minutes (grumpy old man Bucky's not sure how to feel about the music lol) but a peek of pre-war Bucky comes out to play: they were told to "blend in", so he dances. At first he's just bobbing around alone looking stoic and out of place, but soon he's smiling and dancing between two attractive people - one male, one female. Sam is surprised, but before he can tease him for it, Sharon comes to get them all. Even she's a little "wait what?" at Bucky having a little fun lol. (recovery is not linear, guys. trauma doesn't mean "perpetually miserable, no fun, doesn't even know how to smile." in my TFATWS, Bucky gets his lighter moments; real ones, not humor at his expense)

When they find Nagle, Bucky's the one who notices and opens the secret door, while Sam keeps an eye on Zemo. Bucky catches Zemo trying to grab that gun; closes the drawer on his hand before opening it and taking the gun away. "Nice try." Nagle tries to get away while there's only one person watching him, but Sam catches him and forces him back into his seat. With a bruising grip on the back of Zemo's neck, Bucky drags him back over to where he and Sam can both keep an eye on him. Nagle is killed in the shootout as they're trying to escape; Zemo still runs off, blows shit up, and comes back with the stolen car so he's not totally useless.

I had no problem with Zemo being the one to kill Nagle; Nagle was the worst and def had to die, and Zemo has never had an issue killing anyone. Where I took issue with this scene was Bucky and Sam being dumb enough to let Zemo wander and get his hands on a gun. Nope. Not happening.

Anyway, shootout! Explosions! Funny banter! The seat thing, which is my favorite nod to CW ever lol... And then the conversation on the plane...

"You okay?" "Yeah." Sam sighs. "Just thinking." "About how to get Sharon that pardon you dangled in front of her?" He shakes his head. "About how Nagle referred to 'The Winter Soldier Program" like it was some kind of after school club; like you weren't standing right there. And 'the American test subject' like... Like Isaiah wasn't even a real person." He turns to face Bucky, looking angry and weary. "Makes me wonder how many times... How many times are we gonna run around in the same circles before people learn? And how many people need to get crushed underfoot in the meantime?" "Did you really just equate me with Isaiah?" Bucky frowns, not sure how to react to that. "That man is a hero." Sam opens his mouth to say something, but his phone goes off and Zemo approaches at the same time, effectively cutting off their conversation.

When they get to Riga and Zemo tries to guilt trip them over Sokovia, Bucky deadpan reminds him, "Neither of us were involved in that fight." "I doubt you'd have been much help if you were." He shrugs. "Probably not. But I like to save my guilt for events I was actually present for. It's a thing." Zemo laughs. "Fair enough."

Bucky goes on his walk, and meets up with Ayo.

#how it should have gone #tfatws #tfatws critical #if i'd written it #episode 3

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river-bottom-nightmare · 3 years ago

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Nightwing 83 Review

guess who isn't weeks late this time. my opinion of the series is going up a little bit. it's still not great, but i'm not actively put off by it anymore the way i was after 81. not going to tag as spoilers, but be warned that they are under the cut

i’m sure you all are well aware of this but now, but dear god i love bruno redondo’s art. like, an unhealthy amount. the pink and blue is getting to be a theme with either him or just this run, but i am definitely enjoying it. the movement in this cover is clearly obvious, but well done. you recoznize right off the bat that the cover was drawn to drag your eyes down the page until you get to the bottom, but you enjoy the whole ride there.

also, redondo’s way of drawing a character in stages of action so we can see just how much they’re doing in a split second of movement is quickly becoming something i like to see drawn with dick, and any other character that has that sort of ease of movement and body sense, like cass or sin or maybe a super.

and he’s in action the entire time! there’s shot drawn just to show off a shirtless comic book character, the way nightwing is so often subjected to. he’s shirtless because he’s changing his clothes, and that’s all we see, no more and no less. very practical, very well done. i like it.

he looks so cute right here oh my god. the little squint, the hair curls. it’s adorable.

but also like. unless melinda has specifically outfitted the door spyhole so that the person on the other side can’t see dick looking through it (and in all honesty she might have) then everyone on the other side can see dick looking through that door.

bringing your attention back to the “i can’t see melinda’s fbi file oh no!! it’s redacted!! whatever can we do!!” stupidity. redacted files are child’s play for oracle, and definitely doable for both dick and bruce. so that’s bullshit.

now, melinda apparently grew up with the maroni family, then took down part of the family from the inside. the maroni family is a large and notable presence in gotham, one that bruce pays a respectable amount of attention to. he definitely would have grown suspicious when two members of the maroni family were taken down, and with some investigation, he would have discovered melinda’s plan. and it should go without saying that the majority of things you see batman doing? dick can do it too.

it’s not so much that i don’t like how clever the villains/antiheroes are getting. i don’t like how dc heroes are increasingly written as less intelligent. they seem to be relying on pure fighting skills or luck, which may be the case for a couple heroes, but has never been the case for most of dc’s big name heroes, the bat family included. it’s irritating to me to see this sort of stuff pop up as a major plot point when i know that, if dick or bruce had been written with the amount of skill and power that they canonically possess, this entire mess would have been sorted out years ago.

unrelated but dick and melinda have the same hair

this may just be me, but i was always under the impression that dick doesn’t really have a “double life???”

yes, he’s talented enough to create enough differences between robin/nightwing and dick grayson’s mannerisms, way of movement, voices, and speech patterns so that it’s very difficult to put the two together.

but nightwing has never been separate from dick grayson, not the way bruce and batman is. he’s always leaned more towards clark in that aspect: his hero persona is an exaggerated, stately, larger-than-life version of who he really is. there’s no second persona, no real “dick grayson identity” and “nightwing identity.” they’re the same person with the same goals, ideas, and skills. one just pretends to abide by the law, and one gives up pretense of that.

oh good thank god. if he’d trusted her right off the bat (hehe. bat.) i would have slapped him upside the head. at least he’s still got instincts.

gosh the colouring on this is cool. the red has enough purple and pink tones to it that it doesn’t abruptly ruin the tone of the artwork. but it’s definitely glaring enough to take the reader outside of this personal moment they had slipped into between dick and melinda, to put them back in the present where they’re reminded that oh yea there are people hunting dick down.

the next panel keeps this up too, in a less severe way. melinda’s bodyguard shows up (i forgot her name sorry :[ ) and subtly places us in the middle of an action scene rather than a private, personal scene.

laughing so fucking hard have our little vigilantes grown so accustomed to breaking into places that it doesn’t even register as a crime anymore??? tim coming in through the fire escape to pick bernard up for their date and being very much confused as to why bernard is freaking out.

i really like melinda’s shirt and now despite all the work i have to do and the fucking conference i have to host on monday i want to spend hours scrolling through clothing shops online trying to find this shirt. the mock neck/neckline is so cool i want it

so roland just assumes that a very dangerous vigilante who is highly talented in combat and a very dangerous bodyguard who is also highly talented in combat had a fight that ended with this very dangerous bodyguard being tied up and she looks completely fine? roland just assumes that her having no visible wounds or bruises means that they got into a fight and she lost that easily? uh. aight then

dick what are you doing. legitimately what the fuck are you doing. why are you posing oh my god. you are injured and tired and in absolutely no position to go hand to hand with one of main enemies. jesus christ run away or head to lower ground or something. don’t just stand around letting the floodlights show exactly where you are.

i don’t understand what he’s trying to do here??? blockbuster fully bought the story that dick fought them both, won, tried to get info out of them and failed, then hightailed it out of there. he didn’t have to draw roland out for a fight.

but it does look cool. the way the light just highlights his silhouette and the blue parts of his costume does look badass. he does get style points in my book for this.

w h a t d i d i f u c k i n g t e l l y o u , d i c k ?

very classic superhero line and it does sound like something dick would say in a fit of righteous rage but also it makes me laugh so hard because all vigilantes think they’re so powerful that the law doesn’t apply to them. dick vigilantism is illegal. you’re acting above the law and pretending it doesn’t apply to you. hypocritical much?

it happens so often in superhero movies, tv shows, comics, whatever and it makes me giggle every damn time.

pretty decent comeback but before i start seeing people writing blockbuster as a thug i’m going to remind you that he made a deal with a demon for genius level intellect. if this turns into another bane situation i’m going to be a little miffed. he’s a smart man, which makes him a dangerous and infinitely more interesting enemy for nightwing.

this is so horribly in character i want to scream. (or. at least. it lines up with one of the versions of nightwing i have in my head.) he’s running right towards the bullets, miraculously doesn’t get shot, while making a sort-of pun. i hate this so much. i love him.

this is cool. this art is really really cool.

he leaped from a building right towards a helicopter that’s actively shooting at him, but none of the bullets are touching him. none of the corruption of the city can touch him no matter how hard it tries, because he’s too good to be corrupted. Comic Book Logic Can Be Good Sometimes Actually.

batman’s belt what??? swiss army knife who?? sorry, i only know nightwing’s bright blue escrima.

this is one of my favourite things about heroes with exceptional abilities, even more so if the hero is human. the things they can do are so far beyond the realm of normal human abilities that it’s equal parts terrifying and awe-inspiring every time they act.

he just used modified grappling wires to hook to the door of a moving helicopter, swung around the helicopter safely without hitting the blades, gained exactly the right momentum to swing upward again right through the opening of helicopter, then fought and tied up the men before they had any idea what was happening. that’s near impossible to do.

it’s stuff like this where i just sort of sigh in contentment. no matter how many times they leave out dick’s detective skills or conveniently forget that he’s actually a master planner and team leader and make him out to be this forgetful dude who makes everything up on the fly because of his “circus roots,” at least they won’t ever take away dick’s sheer physical ability honed to perfection.

the art, too! in a few panels, dick’s drawn a little lightened or blurred. he’s moving so quickly and fighting so efficiently that he can barely be seen by the enemy. he’s got perfect form all the way through.

and THIS!

there was a helicopter that had five men shooting at him with what looks like machine guns. most people would be dead. some would run away, and be nimble enough to survive without fatal hits. there are very few people, even in fucking comic books, who can look at that hopeless situation and turn it around so quickly and thoroughly that he benefits from it instead.

i just. love nightwing.

it was funny the first time as a comic reader aware of the meme. it’s really not anymore. why the hell would you, in universe, be wearing a shirt that has a picture of your boyfriend being hit in the face by his father.

okay that was funny.

look at lil bitewing, so concerned for her human!!! love her sm.

also a question as to the timeline of things. is nightwing happening before or after urban legends?

i was so distracted by dick wearing a robe and briefs and nothing else that i didn’t register the second part until later. he slept for two days?? babs, baby, he recently had a very traumatic brain injury. why do you sound so nonchalant?

@TIM X COFFEE SHIPPERS GET FUCCCCKKKKEEDDDDD

ngl i totally forgot about that dude oops

this comic is giving so many reaction pictures. you know how you always use the worst possible picture of your friend for your friend’s contact picture? i’m just getting so many of these.

leslie!!! the titans!!! lucius!!! dick going to go see old friends!!!! the titans!!! this part made me so irrationally happy it really did. gar being the one to just. offer dick solutions with open arms. this was the best

i wish i could just copy and paste this entire scene, but that would take up way too much space, so i’m just going to talk about it instead.

you gave me my name, nightwing, and you gave me some of the best advice i’ve received in my life: beautiful little throwback to nightwing’s origin. you’d be surprised at the amount of people who don’t know where the name came from, or who don’t know how much clark means to dick. and the fact that dick still looks up to clark as a hero, recognizes that clark isn’t always perfect and yet continues to hold him in such high esteem, and still looks back on advice that clark gave him fondly just warmed my heart so much.

for a man who has fearlessly stood up to darkseid, bruce will do a lot to avoid a conversation: “grrr. i’m the BATMAN. i’m so DARK and MYSTERIOUS. nobody knows the true me. no one ever will. i will be LONELY for the rest of my CURSED LIFE. such is the price of a hero. ignore my farmer himbo husband in the background”

but i don’t think there’s anything heroic about being a billionaire: another nod to how much dick follows clark’s example rather than bruce. yes, this was a very poignant and important criticism, and i think it’s wonderful that this was published in a pretty popular comic book. but the thing is, there is a way to be a heroic billionaire, but only in fictional universes. the way bruce, ollie, t’challa only ever use their wealth to help people. they donate massive amounts of money to charities that they themselves create so they know exactly how the money is being used. they hire people who aren’t likely to get jobs anywhere else and pay them much more than what a base living wage is. they use their power to help push progressive laws and social change. they are helping.

dick doesn’t fully see it that way. he spent more than half his childhood the son of a billionaire, but still believes that one could be more heroic when one doesn’t have obscene amounts of wealth. whose example do you think he followed to come to that conclusion?

superman looked up to alfred pennyworth?: i mean yea alfred may have been a wildly irresponsible guardian and one hell of an enabler but goddamn if he didn’t love his kid.

you don’t need my input. you’ve thought it all through: ooooooh this line made me grin. for so long, dick’s treated clark as a mentor and a guiding figure. he’s still seen as a kid, an up and coming, snot-nosed titan with dreams of a better world. clark still thinks of him as a kid, despite watching him grow up. but this little line was something i think dick needed sorely to hear. he doesn’t need anyone’s guiding hand on his shoulder, he doesn’t need to ask for permission. he doesn’t need clark to support him the way he did when he was a teenager. he’s all grown up now, and he doesn’t need clark’s help. i imagine it was a bit of a surprise for dick to hear that.

honestly, i couldn’t think of a better role model: ohhh but it doesn’t stop there. clark just straight up turns the tables on dick. imagine you’re dick, and you’ve looked up to this one hero your entire life, and then one day he turns to you and says that he thinks you’re so kind and smart and worthy of a person that he wants you to mentor his son!? goes to show just how much clark trusts dick.

i swear to god dick probably cries every time he hears clark compliment him because bruce is so rare and sparing with his praise that clark giving him the slightest hint of approval is just a dopamine rush.

also, now deathstroke and superman have both asked nightwing to mentor their kids. the juxtaposition is fuckin hysterical. imagine either of their reactions when they realize what kind of company they’re with

lets talk colours for a second, because i absolutely adore how classic colour tropes have been subverted in this comic, and in this general run really.

warm tones have usually (usually, not always) been associated with light and comfort and friendship and,,,,,well,,,warmth. whereas cool tones are usually used to unsettle, or make a scene seem colder and put the reader on edge. this varies if a comic only uses cool tones, or only uses warm tones, but if a comic uses both, this is generally well-used.

that isn’t the case in this run.

dark red, orange, and other warm tones have been used to symbolize danger, action, attacks. hot pink isn’t usually included in this colour group, but it’s definitely part of it in this case. in contrast, scenes that have cool colours give us the impression of slipping into a comfortable, calm scene with babs, tim, the titans, and other allies. even the beginning scene with superman has this blue, but then it transitions into something more golden coloured. dawn broke over dick, as his new idea came to light, and that was reflected in the art (and the sunrise setting.)

have there ever been times when dick’s longed for the comfort of his mask because he didn’t feel confident as dick grayson? i can’t think of any. i may be wrong, but this struck me as pretty ooc.

am i just??? gay and reading this all wrong??

cause i was under the impression that when someone says they are grateful for your friendship you don’t immediately kiss them.

or is this like. normal straight mating rituals.

i mean he’s smiling afterward but still babs aren’t you supposed to at least make sure it’s okay first? you guys broke up a while back after you said something along the lines of “i want to be coworkers with you and nothing more because i don’t trust you or feel comfortable around you as a civilian anymore.” like lmao after you say something like that to someone i would assume that you don’t have the permission to just kiss them whenever you want.

show of hands who else got real sad when they realized dick was talking about himself in this.

sure, he could be referencing the things he’s seen blockbuster pull, and the children on the streets. but “i’ve seen money used for enforcement,” sounds a little too close to dick’s entire life being destroyed by one man threatening the circus to pay protection money for me to completely ignore. and “i’ve seen the poorest and most vulnerable blamed and punished rather than assisted” becomes a lot worse when you remember dick was thrown in juvie for a couple months until bruce was able to obtain legal guardianship, and in there, not a authority figure believed him when he told them his parents were murdered.

he’s lived this before.

a. mother. fucking. typo.

fucking why

i mean i’ve stated my distaste for the batfamily groupchat before but like. this is reaching new levels of ridiculousness. jason sounds like he was written by a fanfic writer. tim sounds like he was written by a fanfic writer. steph sounds like she was written by someone who doesn’t know the first thing about steph and wanted to include her for “family points!!!!!” damian’s supposed to be completely off the grid, and everyone’s searching for him. i do love the way cass texts tho.

well god fuck now i’m crying

dick got a phone call, a sorry, and a thank you out of bruce. i feel so much secondhand happiness for him, if that’s a thing. we’ll just ignore the way bruce looks ugly af and focus on the good parts okay?

and again with the colour symbolism here!

i’m either going to love this or hate this. who knows, we’ll see.

something something hearts something something pink is an evil colour something something. i need to know more about this guy but there’s definitely symbolism there.

is it just me or does this dude look like the backstabbing traitorous absolutely motherfucking piece of shit villain that killed tadashi hamada in big hero 6?

taggggg list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @bikoncon @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption @capricorn-stark @batshit-birds @comics-observer @buticaaba

#river thinks too hard #nightwing #dick grayson #nightwing 83 #dc #nightwing review #nightwing meta #dick grayson review #dick grayson meta #nightwing 83 review #nightwing 83 meta #dc review #dc meta

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writing-fanics · 4 years ago

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[ James x Fem!Reader ] PT. I

James is bisexual in this I have... it took me a lot of thought to write this...

Also note bold is Y/n talking to James in the future she’s telling him the story of her life. And how she knows Clementine.

“If you wanna know my story.” [Y/n] says looking down, then back up at James.

“I’ll need to start from the beginning, or what I remember.” She says, looking off into the distance..

[ Flashback ]

Five Years Ago

“I lost my parents when I was thirteen.” She says, looking up at the man named Kenny.

“Bandits. Theses assholes took everything from us, food, supplies.” She looks down sadly, shaking remembering what happened.

“Wanted to take us as prisoners, but my father fought back.” She says, fiddling with the necklace around her neck.

“They...” she says, stopping eyes going wide lips trembling.

“Got the upper hand, filled his body with bullets. I got covered in his blood, and I watched as they beat my to death.” She looks down, hands covering her face.

“And I couldn’t do jackshit to help them.” She cries, sobbing. Kenny places a hand on her shoulder, and hugs the young teen.

“They took me in and cared for me. I finally had something a family. In this shitty world.”

After she told them her story, about why she was alone. They gave her food, seeing that she looked as if she hadn’t eaten in days.

She scarfed down the food in mere seconds, after took a nice warm bath and got new clothes.

“After that a group came with a girl younger than me.. Clementine.”

“From what I could tell Kenny and Clementine knew each-other from before.. He was in a group with her until. They got separated.”

“Y/n. This is Clementine she was in the group I had before.” Kenny says, and she looks at Clementine and smiles.

“H-hi Clementine.” She says to her nervously, it’s been awhile since she’s ran into any other kids.

“After a shit tone of stuff happened, a man came. A man I never wanted nor, thought I would see again.”

She gasps looking up, seeing the man before her.

“Oh, god...” She whispers, shaking trembling hand covering her mouth as she hides behind the railing.

“What is it?” Alvin asks, and she looks at him eyes widened.

“H-he’s the one who killed my parents.” She says, looking down. Her breathing quickening, her vision becoming blurry.

It was as if the world around her was spinning, she covered her mouth with her hands. Trying to stop her from breathing so loud.

“F-fuck he’s gonn-.” She says, then hears Carlos’ screams. And as well Sarah’s

“Rebecca please he’s gonna kill Carlos.” Alvin pleads, and Rebecca looks down.

And stands, “Bill, stop please!” Rebecca shouts, and Carver looks up at her.

She breathes heavily and looks down, as she made her way down the stairs.

James looked at [Y/n] who was breathing heavily, remembering what happened.

“Hey it’s okay,” James says, rubbing her hand gently.

She looks down sadly, she made her way to the others and of course was tied up.

Hands behind her back, her breathing was quickened the world around her was spinning. Her head was spinning.

She felt as if she was drowning, Carver came over and looked at the girl.

And knelt down, “Don’t I know you from somewhere?” He asked, and she felt as if the world was crushing her. Her parents killer right in front of her.

She couldn’t speak, even if she tried she couldn’t. She was terrified scared, she pursed her lips. And looked down.

Carver growled to and looked at the girl closely, “oh I remember you, were that girl. Hey I’m sorry bout’ your parents but that father of yours shouldn’t of shot and killed one of my men.” He says to her, and she looks at him tears running down her cheeks.

She wanted so bad to punch this bastard in this face, shoot him for killing her parents. She wanted to be the one to murder him. But she couldn’t bring herself to do anything.

She was too afraid, she just growled and looked up at him.

“Poshel ty..”She growled, having the courage to say. And Carver growled, and punched her in the stomach.

“What the fuck does that mean?” He says, and she laughs at him.

“Fuck you..” she says to him, smiling.

She coughed and gaged, “I would watch how you speak to me girl..” he says, and she just growls.

“I wanted to kill him James, I didn’t have the courage to but I had the courage to cuss at him in Russian. I-I don’t wanna talk about the events, when he took us captive..”

[Time Skip]

“A lot happening.. and I mean a shit tone of stuff happened and I’m gonna just sum it up for you so we won’t be here for years and end up skeletons.”

[Y/n] was with Jane and Clementine, looking for medicine. When [Y/n] noticed someone limping their way over...

It looked like a boy a teenager maybe late teens, not much older maybe four to three years.

She looked at him, then back over at Clementine and Jane.

“Someone’s coming..” She says, and they make their way over by the stairs behind the gate and hide.

“Shit shit shit.. he’s coming this way. And who knows if he has friends near by.” Jane says, and [Y/n] looks at her..

Eventually he makes his way up the stairs, and grabs to back of medicine..

[Y/n] hides behind the canon, when he turns around and notices her. And he pulls out his gun,

“Ostavaytes' na meste.” He says, holding his gun out shaking.

‘Stay where you are.’ [translation]....

[Y/n] slowly stands shaking a bit, but stands her ground..

“Kto ty.” She asks, in Russian and Arvo is taken back.

‘Who are you?.’ [translation]..

“I-I’m Arvo. I’m going to go. I don’t want to shoot.” He says, shaking and [Y/n] looks at him.

“I-I don’t want to shoot anyone.” He says, the gun still pointing at [Y/n].

“It’s okay Arvo, just put the gun down.” She says, to him. Then Jane snuck up behind him, and took his gun.

And pointed it at him, “Drop it.” Jane says, and Arvo looks at her and drops the bag.

“Clem Y/n, make sure he’s doesn’t have any other weapons in there.” She says, to Clementine you kneels down and opens the bag.

“No I have no more guns I swear to you.” He pleads, and [Y/n] looks at him sympathetically.

“We just need to make sure you’re not a threat.” She says, to him.

“Please please I have not hurt you.” He begs.

“Quiet.” She shouts.

[Y/n] kneels down, “No weapons, it’s just..” [Y/n] says, peering in, and her mouth drops.

“Just a shit ton of meds.” She says, in amazement.

“No no no no. Please take anything else just not the medicine. It’s for my older sister. She’s sick.” He says, and [Y/n] looks back up at him.

“Is it just you and your sister?” She asks, him.

“No I have many friends.in the woods” he says, looking down at her then back up at Jane.

“Sister or not we could really use that stuff.” Jane says to him.

“No no you are not nice people. You have already left me defenseless. And now you take my sisters medicine.” He says..

“It was a long confrontation. I told them not to take it from him and he thanked me of course.”

“But... that was shorted loved I was young I thought he was cute. Really cute but I was good I hiding it. There was a fight between us and Arvo’s group.”

“It was traumatic and I don’t wanna remember that either. But I do remember Kenny beating abusing, being racist is him.”

“He lost everything. And I could tell he didn’t like having to do this. He lost his sister, his group. He had nothing..”

[Y/n] watched as Kenny tied Arvo up, she looked back at him constantly. She shakes her head,

[Time Skip] after losing Luke

‘He doesn’t deserve to be treated this way yes.. He caused this fight but still he doesn’t deserve this.’ She thought.... as she watched Kenny punch Arvo..

When [Y/n] heard Kenny call Arvo a commie, she stood to her feet. “Back the fuck off! You have absolute no fucking right to call him that!” She shouted at him, fuming with anger.

“Stay the fuck out this! This has none of your concern.” He says to her, and she snaps her neck at him.

“Yes it fucking does. I’m Russian to haven’t you noticed that my grandparents were Russian so what. Does that make me a commie too, someone who’s been in your group for years.” She shouted at him, her fist clenched.

“This isn’t any of your concern! This fucking piece of shit.” Kenny shouted, and [Y/n] stood in front of Arvo protectively.

“Lay one fucking finger on him and I’m gone. You won’t see me again. Both of us.” She says to him, glaring at him. Her fingernails digging into the palm of her hand, drawing blood.

“Kenny backed off..”

“He was telling the truth about the supplies and Kenny beated him up in a fit of rage.”

While everyone wasn’t looking or some were asleep, [Y/n] was tending to Arvo’s wounds.

“Why’d you stick up for me.” Arvo whispers to her, quietly she looks at him smiling.

“Because at a young age, I was taught to stick up for others. Yes you did bring your group and lied, but that doesn’t mean you deserve to be called names, and be abused.” She says to him, and he looks down.

“Listen there’s a truck in the back. I’ve been wanting to leave this group for awhile. Kenny hasn’t been stable since someone important to him died.” She says to him, and looks him in the eye.

“I’ll help you escape. If you want I can come with you.” She says to him, and he just looks at her as if he has found hope.

He just nods, and [Y/n] smiles.

“Ugh! I was so naive so young...”

She kissed him on the cheek, and left him. There when eventually she Bonnie, and Mike talked about leaving the group. And she was going with them..

She thought she was in love with Arvo, but looking back she wasn’t. And when she watched, as Kenny murdered him. Yes she was heartbroken saddened, and she hated Kenny for that.

So she left, she left the group left that toxic man behind. And she hated Kenny, she hated him.

“That’s my story.. I was alone for years until of course I met you.”

[flashback ended]

[Y/n] looks up at James and smiles, he smiles at her too.

Then she felt something in her mouth, it was foul and she stood up, and walked to a nearby tree.

“Shit.” She groans, standing up after just puking, then she realizes that she’s past due..

“You okay?” He asks, and she looks over at him and nods lying of course.

“Yes I’m fine. I just have to use the bathroom I’ll be right back.” She says nervously, walking to her bag and pulling out a feminine hygiene and sneakingly pulling out an pregnancy test.

She went behind a tree not far, from the camp. And did her business, and before she went back she waited for the results for the test.

And gasped in shock at what it says...

Positive

#fanfic #x reader #angst #headcanons #fluff #romance #James x Fem!Reader #James TWD #james twdg #whisperers #the walking dead telltale #The Walking Dead Games fanfic #james x reader twd

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whitelionspirit · 4 years ago

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Hello!!! I'm now in Christmas spirit. 🎄Well it's now Christmas month haha. Can I request head canons of Law, Ace and Luffy x fem! S/O that still believes in Santa Claus? Well more secretly because she's afraid that people find it stupid. Also because when she was young she has meet the real Santa Claus. And... The boys will also meet the real Santa Claus and you can decide how they meet. Take your time. 😊

a/n: A rather interesting request but a good one none the less. Also my first time writing for Luffy and Law so yay! (P.s. I got carried away with this so it’s a bit long)

Luffy

As someone who easily believes in anything it would not be hard to see him also believing in Santa far into his adult life.

The rest of the crew besides Chopper easily dismiss his excitement over the arrival of the big man. Luffy calls them scrooges for not believing but happily goes on about his day as usually.

Though it becomes apparent after his confession that you had become rather quiet the rest of the day. While it was not a strange thing it seemed something was very much bothering you.

It got worse as the holiday drew nearer and the idea at stopping at a winter island became a more agreeable idea. Finally after docking and everyone leaving the ship to do some sight seeing you were left with Luffy who surprisingly decided to stay behind.

You were taken aback at your boyfriend wanting to stay behind but he smiled sweetly at you and stretched his arm out and pulled you close into his embrace.

You weren’t sure what to expect but he began chatting about nothing and everything involving Christmas. It put you at ease as you easily snuggled into his chest as you listened closely. It was when he brought up Santa again that you stiffened.

He looked down at you curiously tilting his head in that questioning way he always does. You decided to bite the bullet and tell him your secret after telling him he just looked at you surprised.

Even though he believed you were still awaiting the laughter that usually followed but it never came. Luffy got in your face which made you blush but he just smiled at you.

“It’s okay (Name)! Because I know he is real and it’s so cool that you met him!” He said excitedly which made you relieved.

A few nights later on Christmas eve you were awoken from a deep sleep and were dragged out of bed by your rubber boyfriend. The air outside was freezing as snow began falling over the island. you shivered but a blanket was quickly wrapped around your shoulders.

Feeling a bit better you gathered your bearings and looked to see Luffy’s smiling face illuminated by the moon and the surrounding snow. He was pointing to something in the sky.

It took a few tries but you finally saw what he was pointing at in the far sky. What looked like an almost miniature boat was being pulled a bunch of reindeer through the night sky. A gasp left you as Luffy laughed pulling you close to him as you both watched the man fly away into the night

Ace

Unlike his brother Ace had grown out of children’s fantasies at a very young age but because of having Luffy for a brother he always kept his thoughts to himself.

So seeing you frown at his teasingly talking about a group of kids excited about Santa coming to the crew made him question what about the comment made you upset. He was not the most reserved when it came to his honesty much like his brother so seeing you like that bothered him.

Of course you try to brush it off as nothing which makes him just angry which resulted in a rather heated fight between you both. It was so bad you didn’t speak for days nor did you sleep in the same bed.

As it got closer to the holiday Whitebeard decided to stop off at a winter island in the new world. Surprisingly it is your home island of all places you immediately leave the boat without even a second thought even with shouts of protest behind you. You are soon met with happy greetings from the villagers as they recognize you, you had not been home in several years so the reunion was a happy one.

Your family was very much happy to see you even if they were hesitant with meeting your new family. In the end it went rather well as you tried to avoid mentioning your boyfriend who you had yet to makeup with.

Unfortunately even if he was upset you had yet to introduce him he made sure to make himself useful to them in any way he could. Even when late into the night when the partying was still going strong, he got a few stories out of them about your youth.

One in particular caught his interest; it was about you supposedly meeting Santa as a child one Christmas years ago. How even since then you had believed what you had seen even into adulthood.

It finally clicked with him as to what had upset you so much he felt like an idiot and knew he had to fix it. Even if he himself did not believe you did and that went against his own moral code of not judging others about their beliefs and dreams.

Christmas Eve had finally arrived and he just finally got you alone in the dark of your family’s kitchen late into the night. The pent up emotions of the last two weeks finally got to you both, as you tried to get past him but he stopped you by grabbing your arm gently.

He was not the best at expressing his emotions even now, but for you he confessed how he knew what the issue was now. You froze but allowed him to finish his ramblings, afterwards you turned to him and also confessed you were sorry. As it wasn’t as he actually knew why you had been upset, he kissed you then in the barely lit kitchen with you flush against his warm body.

A sudden sound of bells ringing broke the spell on you both as you pulled away breathless and ran to the windows. Ace followed close behind as you both peaked out into the snowy night. There in the back of the home was a sled with reindeer attached to it along with a very large man clothed in red who hopped down from the sled and laughed at both your shocked expressions.

“Woah he really is real,” Ace whispered, making a grin spread across your face.

Law

Much like Ace he had to grow up quick at a young age so believing in something like Santa was never really an option for him.

Hanging around in Paradise for a while didn’t leave you many options to travel around in so a lot of your time was spent near the islands closest to Sabaody. While Law didn’t particular care for the holidays, you on the other hand took it upon yourself to decorate the submarine.

At first he was annoyed but he saw how happy it made you and how the others brightened up at festive decorations. So he let it go as he buried his face into his medical books.

The mere mention of Santa Claus has him scoffing and making remarks on how parents trick their children into believing in a false reality. His words stung and hit you hard as you tried to hide your disappointment.

Not wanting him to see you busied yourself with looking over the recent logs and documenting new plant life you had discovered recently. Christmas came sooner than you thought and your days were full of present wrapping and stocking up on food for the holiday.

Law knew something was up as you were quieter than normal and it bothered him but he did not push you for answers. He asked Bepo instead who didn’t have an answer for him either.

Christmas was spent on a remote winter island deeper into Paradise the crew deciding to ruff it on the island for the night. Bundle up tight everyone was happily drunk and playing in the snow around several large bonfires. You leaned against Bepo as he recalled a story from his and Law’s early days together to everyone.

Law was sitting across from you all as he huddled a tanker of what you presumed was some kind of cider. He occasionally met your eyes which you quickly avoided. Sometime later into the night you wandered a bit further from the camp wanting to see if you could see the stars.

You know he is following you and when he stands beside you as you peek through a cluster of trees. After several minutes of collective silence you finally speak your mind after an entire month.

“I have believed in Santa Claus since I was very young, mostly due to the fact that I met the man once. While many don’t believe me it was very much real that is the reason I was upset this whole month.”

Law says nothing as he leans against the base of a tree. “I know,” he starts as you look over at him. “I knew the second week it was obvious after connecting some dots. Anyways if that's what you believe, who am I to deny that for you.”

You subconsciously grab for a gloved hand of his and intertwine your fingers together as snow begins to fall again slowly.

You stood like that for some time and watched as the snow gradly came down more only for it to be broken by the distant sound of bells ringing into the still night. You both shared a look, before dashing for the camp where the yells and cheers of your crewmates got louder.

A feeling of excitement came over you as you reached the clearing to be met by the familiar figure of Santa as he was handing out presents to Bepo and the others.

You grabbed onto your boyfriend’s arm and looked at him happily as he just looked on in shock making you laugh gleefully into the cold night.

#one piece x reader #portgas d. ace x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece imagine #op imagine #one piece #portgas d ace #trafalgar law #monkey d. luffy #christmas requests

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haikyuuwaifu · 4 years ago

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PART 2

PART 1

WARNINGS: Swearing :)

Okay, so to kick off part 2:

Let’s talk about the whole [a/n] and [warning] “my writing sucks lmao, sorry etc.” If you’re gonna write fanfiction, then POST THAT SHIT WITH YOUR FUCKING CHEST. If it sucks ass, then it sucks ass, but at least you fuckin did it RIGHT?! I know this is going to be hard to hear, but the people on this platform don’t matter. Their opinions on this platform about YOUR writing, doesn’t mean shit. What matters is HOW YOU FEEL. IF you’re not confident about it, then you better take some of mine and go.

I DO NOT CARE what ANYONE thinks about my writing. If you don’t like it, then don’t read it. I’m not saying I’m the best. I know I’ve got typos, and inconsistencies with posting, etc; but when I commit to something YOU BET YOUR ASS I DO IT WITH MY WHOLE FUCKING CHEST.

THERE AIN’T NO ROOM FOR BITCHES IN THIS FUCKING HOUSE. Reading a fic, that has any kind of “sorry my writing sucks, etc” reminds me of those small businesses on tiktok that use those guilt trip sounds to get more business. IF YOU’RE GONNA WRITE, YOU POST THAT SHIT WITH YOUR WHOLE FUCKING CHEST. IF you get hate about your writing, then you tell them to shove their head up their ass and keep doing what your doing.

Continuing on:

Head cannons drive me crazy. They’re supposed to be bullet points no longer than a sentence or two, but some head cannons I see are whole ass paragraphs. If that’s the case, just write a damn ficlet and go.

If you’re going to use tags, then please use them CORRECTLY. As fun as it is to read about your whole life fucking story, I don’t want to see it in a haikyuu x reader tag. That’s not the point of the tag. Or if you tag something with bnha smut and it’s not even related to the tag. Using the tags as TW are the same.

This is directed more towards minors, because I haven’t really seen adults doing it. BUT if you make a post and tag all the haikyuu tags and your post is just you complaining about [x reader] fics or the [lewding of minors] (the haikyuu characters) here’s what I want you to do:

First off: The Haikyuu characters were CANONICALLY BORN IN THE 90s. THAT MAKES THEM MILLENIALS BITCHHHH. That means that they’re in their 20′s. IF you can’t wrap your head around that logic, go back to school and re-learn basic math.

SECOND OFF: If you do not pay your bills, wipe your own ass, and provide for YOURSELF, you DO NOT get to sit there and bitch at the ones who do those things because you HATE [x reader]. It must be nice to bitch about something you don’t like using a phone you didn’t pay for huh?

You don’t like it, don’t read it. Don’t consume it. DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT. It’s clearly debilitating to your mental health, being bothered by what other people are doing.

ANYWAYS, thanks for coming to my Ted talk. Remember, my asks are open. IF you don’t like me I don’t care. IF you do like me, then you’re amazing <3 Some updates this weekend :)

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aminiatureworld · 4 years ago

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HI! Quick note: write this whenever you want and be sure to take care of your health first! Your works are amazing and masterpieces take time, I can be patient <3 Hope you have a lovely day! (also, 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: trigger themes like attempts of suicide, probable hints to dissociative amnesia? I was inspired by it at least and some... Limb being bitten off as well as latest archon quest spoilers so readers be cautious!)

Anyway, I'd like to request for Xiao, Albedo, Zhongli, Kaeya and Diluc (if the number is too much you can cut off whoever from the list) with Traveller! s/o that like has no memory of their past but have clues through these... "Visions/Dreams".

It started out a little simple; every once in a while, Y/N would see these little figures floating around their environment. Shadowy wisps, sometimes ghosts talking to them. But in real life, people can't see them and only sees them talking by themselves (and some are a little weirded out). But then one day, while they were out adventuring in the ruins slimes or seelies... Whatever small cute creatures can exist in Teyvat suddenly gathered in Stormterror's lair and they grew curious cuz they heard... Music? Playing? It was echo-y and creepy but then they heard a very familiar tune that they KNOW is linked to their past so they followed and went into the vicinity

(As reference, or for some idea: https://youtu.be/JZ6buLNIgs8)

The moment they stepped inside and pinpointed where the music is coming from they bolted up the stairs (if there are any, which probs not but in reader's case there is) and suddenly the stairs lead them to a hallway from a tower/palace, and walking further, there were two huge doors that lead to a ballroom with more than dozens of ghosts waltzing and singing with the music

(No they did not question why would stormterror's lair have a hallway or how it even has a ballroom inside, nor why creatures would gather in said lair. Questions that break away from dreams are nonexistent)

So obviously they were happy at the wondrous sight and began waltzing along with everyone from strangers to... Unrecognizable but familiar faces? Until They danced with this boy their age. The more they looked the more they were enamored and the world around them was but a hazy dream (as vague and hazy the environment in their head can get) but the boy became more and more vivid and so did the music until they practically sang together. But then as the music stopped and s/o turned their back for a second; the boy sang: "And a song someone sings..." And wisps suddenly flew out of him and towards Reader, making them fall unconscious into their arms as the Prince of the Abyss sang in their ear. "Once upon a december..." Before Aether disappeared and he was but a dream.

And then all of a sudden Reader was yanked away from their dream; almost literally. They turned to see their lover holding onto their arm with concern all over their face and explained to them they were so close to the edge dancing away they could've fallen off of the third floor (which was already high!).

And that's when things get a turn to the worse.

Every dream gets worse than the last; anything that involved the abyss, or seeing these star pendants like what Paimon has on her hair or Kaeya's little decor on his clothes or involving Khaenriah or whatever Albedo's research is rn lure them into a dream vivid than the last and it gets even harder and harder to break them off their dreams. One night of going to bed they suddenly had a dream of their old family/friends swimming in the ocean and telling them to join them, and they wouldve if their lover didnt sweep them off their feet and broke away from another dream they didnt realize was 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 a dream. And the realization that if they jumped off, their bones wouldve broken cuz a bunch of boulders and rocks on a steep cliff would make a nice floor for landing right?

But still, Aether and the abyss (which in their dreams were ghosts and just... this blond guy you knew but never realized it was your brother and the abyss) are recurring themes. Coming across any of the factors instantly puts them in a dream and reader cant tell whats reality and what isnt. Everything is too vivid they didnt see a bubble coming their way or an attack coming towards them and they were about to be thrown off. It got to the point Reader was getting claustrophic from the rooms suddenly shrinking as they were cornered by these ghosts that turned frightening and whenever they fight back they end up nearly murdering someone of mindlessly attempting to destroy one of The Seven statues.

It lead Reader to be.. Kinda suicidal. Not just because they hate themselves and their situation its cuz its the 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑦 they knew how to escape the dream and wake up in a bed in their lovers arms. And because reader cant distinguish reality from dreams sometimes even if their lover is present they see these ghosts and think 'this must be a dream I have to wake up from!' cuz in the long run theyve learned fighting back meant hurting someone so they.. Redirected the pain to themselves so theyre very confused to see their lover throw their dagger across the room and they end up breaking down no matter where they are (or in worse cases in the middle of battle). Reader grew dependant on them and panic attacks after these dreams became more frequent until they cant even trust their surroundings whether its a dream or not.

(I'm very sorry with how long this is and I rambled in grotesque detail you may polish it however you want :"DD)

This can be in any format you'd like! But I mostly prefer headcanons + scenarios? like the bullets then comes scenario etc. But ye write however you want sorry for rambling hope you have a nice day thank you

As a Romanov history enthusiast this request was both very interesting and very difficult. Mostly because I found myself veering off into “lore dumping” for lack of a better term. Still I hope the general feeling of your request was captured well.

I spread various aspects of your request around as best I could, depending on character, outline, fic structure, etc. The only thing I didn’t keep in was the suicidal ideation. This is for various reasons, some personal, but in a more general term I think that it can be very difficult to portray something like that in a way that isn’t excessively triggering and is worthwhile to read for a variety of people. The way one person would process through such emotions and put them to paper could be harmful to another. Overall I thought it best to steer clear from such a topic, with the knowledge that I didn’t find it necessary to the story and thought it would be an imperfect addition on my part. Not that I find never addressing such topics necessarily the right path either, only I think that in this case better not to. I hope I explained why adequately.

I know that wanting to read and write about such topics does not directly correlate to being in such a mental state but I do hope you also take care of your own mental health. Though getting out of such crises can be difficult I want to tell you this at least. You aren’t alone in feeling this way, even if others in your direct vicinity cannot understand. And also sometimes finding a direct reason for continuing on comes later. Sometimes surviving is enough. And even if you cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel, that doesn’t mean you should take a step which you will never be able to reverse, the only step you will never be able to reverse in your existence.

I also leaned into the Romanov family dynamic, rather into that of the traveler siblings. Whether the reader is the traveler is kept vague on purpose, as I generally as a rule don’t write the siblings. I also found that in keeping them specifically canon compliant to the traveler siblings I’d have to cut back on the more historical illusions. Being a total history nerd I chose the latter option.

Otherwise my fics varied in complete accuracy to the prompt, though I hope you find it enjoyable to read nonetheless.

Here they are in order of Albedo, Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, and Zhongli. I hope you find them a worthwhile read and thank you for your request. I hope you have a lovely week.

#suicide mention #dissociative amnesia #asks #aliarosella #requests

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ithebookhoarder · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 11: A New Equilibrium. (The Gangster’s Daughter)

Masterlist:

Also available on AO3:

Warnings: Original Character(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Explicit Language, Gangsters, Period Typical Attitudes, Parent Tommy Shelby, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent.

----------

Life adopted an unusual but steady rhythm the following weeks after the mens return home both in and out of Watery Lane.

Business was booming again, with the Shelbys at the helm. Men, all eager to enjoy the spoils of life back home in the city, eagerly filled the shop day after day, money in hand and bets ready to be placed.

There was something celebratory about it all. About seeing the hope in mens eyes as they’d handed over their bets. About hoping their luck had changed, even in most cases it hadn’t. Still, every win was significant as the staff handed over the winnings with a happy grin and handshake.

The staff in the shop felt similarly. Many hadn’t seen one another since the start of the war, having been assigned to various regiments. For those men, to be reunited again was something they’d been dreaming of. There were cheers and hugs as they’d arrived their first day back, laying eyes on the lucky souls who’d returned.

Not everyone had been so lucky, as the vacant desks reminded them. Of course, there were plans to find people to replace their positions but it was obvious it would be no small feat. There may have been hundreds of men desperate for work, but none of them would be those brave souls who had perished in France, all in the name of king and country.

Still, everyone did their best not to dwell, as was the way of life in Birmingham.

The Shelbys, in particular, had had a lot to catch up on. Four years worth of stories and news was quite a lot, even with the letters they’d been writing back and forth.

For example, Evie told them all about her schooling, and the fact she’d managed to secure a prefect badge for the final year. She couldn’t help but beam as she saw the pride swell in her father’s face - even if John and Arthur laughed themselves sick at the thought.

“A Shelby prefect? Ha! Now I have heard it all.”

She paid them no mind, finding it a little funny herself. At least she gave them something to laugh about, considering the bleak stories they’d shared. Granted, they made a valiant effort to try to liven them up, with the odd joke or two but even that couldn’t mask the death and horror of war, written all over their faces. Finally, something the Shelby smile couldn’t hide.

It was the same look Evie saw in John’s eyes when she went with him to visit Martha’s grave. They’d chosen to bury her in the cemetery just outside of the city, knowing she would have liked the fresh air, and rolling green fields around them, full of flowers. Evie had been to visit many times during the war, using it as a chance to escape when the house and the people in it had become too much.

She’d often sit and speak to Martha, telling her about what John had written in his latest letter, or even bringing her newborn child to see her. Evie knew Martha would have liked that, to see for herself that they were alright. She also knew Martha was probably happy to see John here as well, to know he was back in the city and safe.

So, she pointed him to the grave and left him to talk privately, knowing he probably had a lot to say. Four years was a long time after all.

There were other small changes too, since John, Arthur and Tommy had returned. The fact people tipped their caps at Evie when they saw her in the street - police included - was enough to make her falter. She’d hadn’t noticed it these past years, or if she had it had never been repeated enough to spark her attention.

It was as if the whole city knew the Shelby men were back. As if, the whole city was watching. Waiting.

Waiting for what?

It was an odd feeling. One Evie was quick to bury. No matter what Polly may have said had she known, there was too much to be happy about to let something as trivial as a premonition ruin it.

What good was superstition anyway? It was all rubbish.

Wasn’t it?

——

Evie should have learned a long time ago not to dismiss the idea of the supernatural, or that her aunt had a scary habit of being right.

She should have listened to her aunt’s warnings of premonitions. Maybe if she had, she wouldn’t have been so startled when she awoke one night.

It had been weeks now, since her father and uncles had returned to Small Heath.

Evie bolted upright, panting as she tried to work out what had woken her. Normally, she was a deep sleeper. It took saucepans or someone jumping on her to wake her from a good night’s sleep. However, tonight, something had yanked her from unconsciousness.

Then she heard it again: the muffled screams from down the hall.

Evie felt her blood run cold. Never before had she heard a sound so full of pain and fear. It rattled her enough that she gasped, feeling a tremor run down her spine.

It wasn’t a ghost or some demon in the night. This wasn’t one of her books, after all. The sound was painstakingly real and loud, echoing through the wall behind her. Wait. That was her father’s wall? Did that mean-?

Evie was already out of bed.

She didn’t even think as she bolted for the door and towards her father’s room. Her trembling hand reached for the doorknob and threw it open, preparing herself to see some horrific scene or someone attacking him.

But that wasn’t what she saw.

Evie gasped at the sight.

“Dad?”

She assumed it was her father, but it was hard to tell in the darkness. All she could see was a pale figure thrashing about on the bed before her, illuminated by the thin strips of moonlight pouring in through the window.

Tangled up in his sheets, a thin sheen of sweat plastering his body, Tommy Shelby almost looked possessed. Sobs and half formed shouts escaped him as his limbs thrashed about, reaching for something Evie couldn’t see. Some invisible demon.

It terrified her.

What did she do? Her instinct was to rush to his side, to try and gently shake him awake.

“Dad?” she encouraged, trying and failing to release him from the mental torment he was trapped in. How had he done it, all those times before, when she’d been small and similarly afflicted?

Evie couldn’t remember. Her panic was too strong as it rang in her ears, muting out anything that wasn’t her father.

“Dad! Wake up! It’s ok,” she pleaded. “You’re home. You’re safe. Wake up.”

His eyes snapped open. A sudden cry escaped his lips, sending her staggering backwards in a panicked daze.

“Dad. Stop. It’s me,” Evie began.

However, her words clearly had no impact on him. He was a man in a trance, still gripped by whatever terror was still inside him as he flung out a hand onto the bedside cabinet and bolted upright.

His eyes whirled to her.

She then noticed what was in his hand… The gun was pointing directly at her.

She screamed.

It fired.

Her legs gave way as she dropped to the floor, covering her head as she felt herself go numb. The sound was deafening, the shot ringing in her ears as she stifled a sob of panic.

Plaster showered down on her head from the bullet hole above her.

The sound apparently woke her father from his terror induced haze as she heard the gun clatter to the ground. She felt it as he hurried to her side, cursing and trying to get a look at her trembling body. “Where are you hit?”

He repeated it again and again as he tried to get her to respond. It took a minute before Evie could even look at him, let alone move her tongue. “I’m fine… you didn’t hit me,” she stammered, pushing his hands off of her.

“Thank God,” he croaked, his tone suddenly sharp. “What the hell were you thinking?”

What had she been thinking? Better yet, what had he been thinking? Or feeling?

“You tried to shoot me?” Evie gasped. The moment finally seemed to reveal itself to her in painstaking detail. She didn’t know what to say. All she could do was repeat the statement over and over again. “You tried to shoot me. With a gun. A real gun.”

“I didn’t know it was you. I wouldn’t have fired if I’d known,” her father pleaded, his voice trembling as relief and remorse flooded through him. “Listen to me, Evie. Never come in here again if you hear me like that. Understood?”

Evie nodded dumbly. “But… I thought… I thought you were in trouble.”

By then, she heard footsteps and knew they were no longer alone. The gunshot would have been enough to wake the whole house. If any were brave enough to investigate it was different.

“Tommy?” That was Arthur’s voice, bellowing from the doorway. He looked almost comical in his pyjamas, gun in his hand, ready to fight. He would have been more menacing if his hair wasn’t poking up in all directions. “You alright?”

“Fine, Arthur. Go back to sleep.”

“I heard shots.” That was Ada, accompanied by a frantic looking Finn.

“It was a mistake. An accident, but it’s all good now, eh?”

Was it? Was it all good? Evie knew no one better at saving face than her father. She’d learned that a long time ago even if she had yet to perfect the art.

Somehow, he managed to settle everyone and send them back to the rooms in the time it took Evie to calm her breathing. She had only just regained control of her limbs when he re-appeared, slowly easing her up off of the cold floor.

This wasn’t right. She was supposed to be the one comforting him? Not the other way around.

Yet, despite shaking still and panting as if he’d been running a marathon, Tommy began to escort her over toward his bed.

“Evie. Look at me,” he soothed, brushing his hand through her hair and gripping her chin so that she couldn’t hide from him. “I’m… I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened but it was like I was floating, looking down at my body. I didn’t even feel the gun in my hand. You know I’d never hurt you, eh? Never.”

“I know,” Evie whispered. A small nod was the best she could offer as proof.

“It won’t happen again, alright? You have to stay out if I have another nightmare like that. I… I can’t control myself or my actions.”

“But-”

“Promise me,” he begged.

She’d never heard him so scared before in her life. His grip was tight on her, but not painful as he held her, held until she gave her word.

It was clearly all she could do to calm him.

“Y-Yes,” Evie gulped. “I promise.”

Thankfully, she saw the relief her answer gave to him. It was as if a literal weight had rolled off of his shoulders.

Finally, he finally seemed calmer. Able to let go of her and resume something of normalcy. It was why he switched back to his paternal nature, reaching past her to light the the lamp beside them a moment later. He then leant back, pulling the covers aside so that they could both clamber into the bed.

Evie wanted to laugh. The last time they’d done this, she’d been much smaller.

“Are you sure?”

Tommy nodded. “Would I offer it otherwise? We could both use some sleep and maybe with each other to protect us we’ll have no more interruptions.”

Evie hoped so.

“Alright then,” she shrugged, nestling her way under the covers and curling up beside him. If only the others could have seen it. Tommy Shelby. Sleeping with his daughter curled in his arms. It was enough to make even the hardest of men melt. “Just don’t hog the covers.”

“It’s my bed, thank you very much miss. Should I read you a story?”

“Don’t push it,” Evie sniggered, even if a small part of her was tempted to say yes. She was curious which one he’d have chosen.

However, as it turned out, it would have been pointless even if she had asked him. She’d only been in bed a moment before her eyes drooped closed. Apparently, coming off of such an adrenaline high was exhausting.

So it was, Evie fell asleep that night, nestled in her father’s arms. Even asleep, her grip was deathly tight as she clung to him, as if trying to prove he was safe beside her.

She only hoped when she opened her eyes in the morning, it remained true.

This was one dream she didn’t want to wake from.

——

Tommy was gone when she woke.

The empty space in the bed beside her told Evie that fact immediately as soon as she’d opened her eyes. However, her heart stopped racing as she noticed that along with her father, his boots were also gone - the boots her father normally wore when heading down to the muddy stable yards. His cap and coat was also missing.

He must have risen early and decided to go for a ride. It was the usual Shelby tonic for most troubles, after all. No war could change that. If anything, he’d probably missed the horses and the chance to ride them for fun, not as part of a cavalry charge or supply chain.

Evie calmed down immediately.

If Tommy had ever needed a ride, it was probably that morning. Evie wouldn’t forget the look of horror she’d seen on his face the night before. The ghosts that appeared to be weighing on his soul as he’d pulled that trigger and sent them plummeting into chaos.

It would take a while for all of them to adjust. Evie was under no illusions of that and last night had made it all too clear.

She sighed. She peeled back the covers, padding over toward the window and pulling the curtains back to let in the sunlight.

Everything looked pale and starker in the sunlight than it had during the night. Then again, she’d never been in her father’s room enough to notice. It was his space. His sanctuary. One, she had always been eager to respect. He’d done the same. It was only right and fair.

Well, until last night.

It felt uncomfortable to be there without him. It had been one thing to intrude last night when she’d thought he needed her. But now… now she felt like she was somewhere she didn’t belong. Like she was about to be caught and scolded.

Her uneasiness only grew as she turned back towards the door; the bullet hole directly in her eye-line.

There was no way to avoid it.

The hole in the wall was obvious. It was hard to miss, with the ripped wallpaper and plaster powder marking it for all to see.

Evie couldn’t bear to look. Then again, at least it could be filled and mended, hidden away beneath plaster and paint. If only all such scars could be fixed as easily.

With a soft sigh, she hurried out of the room and back to her own to dress, ready to face the day as best as possible.

——

“Morning.”

“Morning, Pol,” Evie mumbled, skipping her way down into the kitchen. She wasn’t surprised to see her aunt there, pottering about as if she owned the place. She was there most mornings, choosing to come early before the shop opened. Then again, she only lived a few doors away. It wasn’t as if she had far to travel.

“Breakfast’s on the table if you want it.”

Evie smiled gratefully, perching in a chair and beginning to fill her plate with toast and jam. It was her go-to in the mornings, and after last night, she didn’t know if she could stomach a fry up.

By now, Evie knew someone would have filled Polly in on what had happened last night. Even then, Evie wouldn’t put it past the woman for her to have found out through some supernatural means. She had an uncanny habit of doing that, always knowing what Evie was going to say before she even said it.

This morning was no exception as Polly made her way towards the now cooling pot of tea on the side and began to pour herself a cup. “I heard it was an exciting night last night.”

Evie chose not to say anything. She didn’t know where to begin and honestly, she was too tired to start what was sure to be a long conversation. All she wanted was to get to school and pretend like the night had never happened.

“You could say that.”

“I could. I could also say that, from what Ada told me, it sounds like your father gave you quite the fright.”

“I don’t know if nearly being shot by your father counts as simply ‘quite a fright’,” Evie grumbled, aggressively biting the edge off of her toast. “I didn’t… It’s not his fault, I know. It was stupid of me to think he could go off to war and come back the same person but I did. Alright? I did and now I don’t know what to do, Pol.”

Her aunt sighed. She gently perched herself next to Evie as she listened to her confession. She then pushed forward a bowl of porridge as an offering and made sure Evie ate some before talking.

“You’re not stupid, Evelyn Shelby. You’re a lot of things and stupid isn’t one of them, alright?” she began calmly. “Secondly, I think you were being hopeful before, when you thought about your father coming home. You were just a child, Evie. What did you expect? There was nothing wrong with hope. God knows we needed as much of it as we could get with everything happening over in that Hell Hole. Your father did an admirable job hiding any details from you in his letters, but I’ve heard people talk. I know the horrors he must have seen.”

Horrors that now continued to plague him, or so Evie suspected. Why else did he sleep with a gun so close by?

“You both did what you needed to survive, Evie. Now that everything’s changed, the war’s over and we’re trying to pick up the pieces of our lives,” Polly continued firmly, making it clear she didn’t want to hear her niece berating herself again any time soon. “There is no right or wrong way to feel. There isn’t a guide book on how we’re supposed to behave and act. It’s down to us to listen to one another. To protect each other and support our family."

She made it sound so easy. Evie didn’t even know where to start with such a request. Wasn’t it her need to make sure her father was ok that had got her into that mess last night? How was she supposed to support a man who wouldn’t even tell her the first thing about what he’d been through or how he felt?

Then again, it wasn’t exactly as if she was going to win an award anytime soon for her emotional honesty. She’d inherited that much from him.

Evie sighed. She bit her lip as she tried to control the urge to cry. “Will we ever get back to how we used to be, before all this?”

“I could read your leaves but even then it isn’t a guaranteed thing,” Polly exhaled, letting loose a plume of smoke from her lips. “There are somethings even the spirits can’t help with or answer. This is one of those things… There’s a darkness in men, Evie. They each have their own demons to fight, just as we women do too.”

“Demons?”

Was that was she was calling the nightmares plaguing her father and uncles? It wasn’t fair. Hadn’t they all done enough fighting for a lifetime. They didn’t deserve to come home and have to continue fighting for their sanity as a result of a stupid war they hadn’t even started in the first place. To have their choices on the battle field haunting them. To have their sins linger…

“Does - does that mean,” Evie stammered, “being a soldier, he must have killed. They all must have. Dad almost did last night… Is he a good man?”

It was the first time she’d ever uttered those words aloud, the first time she’d been brave enough to truly want an answer. Even after all she’d seen since she’d entered Watery Lane.

“War changes men. I don’t think there is a set definition of ‘good’ but I know he loves you. He loves you so much he was willing to go off to war and be shot at for you,” Polly sighed, squeezing the girl’s shoulder comfortingly. “That’s all I care about and all you need to know right now. Your father needs to handle all of this, his own way. Give him time.”

“I gave him four years, Pol,” Evie sighed. “How much more time am I supposed to give?”

Nevertheless, she knew better than to argue any further, so merely looked back down at her porridge and ate silently. It was only as she went to place the dish in the sink that she finally saw the man in question.

Her father was always a composed man, no matter how rushed he was. This morning was no exception. Despite the fact he was already running late, and hadn’t even done up his waistcoat yet, Tommy Shelby strolled about with utter composure.

“Morning all,” he greeted, reaching for the teapot and a cup. His chipper tone was completely at odds with his exhausted appearance. The bags alone under his eyes alone made him look almost ill, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

“It lives,” Pol remarked, even if living was a bit optimistic for the state he was in. “Some of us have been up for hours, you know. John and Arthur are outside waiting to open. It was payday yesterday and half the town are banging on the doors.”

“What are you keeping the good people waiting for then?”

Polly rolled her eyes, murmuring something under her breath about Shelby men and curses as she stubbed out her cigarette and marched out of the room. It was time to unleash the masses and like a tidal wave, they would come, money in hand, bets ready to be placed.

Hence why Evie was more than eager to make her escape. The last thing she needed was to be trampled to death in a stampede of factory workers and drunkards. So she hastily grabbed her bag and coat off the hook by the door, slipping both on as she made her way past her father and toward the rear exit.

“See you later,” she gasped.

However, she hadn’t even made it to the door before she heard her name called. She paused, looking back over her shoulder.

“Yes?”

“I want you home straight after school tonight,” Tommy began, his tone oddly calm. “Alright?”

Evie paused. “But I was going to go by the yard-”

“Well, change of plans,” Tommy interrupted, smiling as he tried to soothe the sting in his words. “Look, these streets have changed since the men came back. I don’t feel comfortable with you wandering out there on your own.”

“But I wouldn’t be alone, I’d be with Uncle Charley-”

“It’s not up for debate, Evie.” His tone was starting to grate on her nerves, as was his distance. It was like when she’d first joined them all over again, barely seeing him except when he needed something or wanted to check she was still breathing. “I mean it,” he repeated, watching her for her acceptance. “For the time being I want you to come home straight after school. If you want to go by the yard then one of us can take you, but I don’t want you out there alone.”

Maybe it was last night that had rattled him. Evie couldn’t be sure, but if coming home meant he would relax for even a moment then it was the least she could do. “Fine,” she conceded, rolling her eyes and stealing a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you later,” he echoed, a smile cracking his otherwise cool expression. “Now go and show them other kids what Shelby brains are capable of, ey?"

“On it.”

——-

Ever since that night she’d avoided his room or even discussing anything related to their nighttime conflict. Of course, she still heard the odd moan, thud or cry. Only the odd night or so passed without a sound coming from her father’s room, but Evie wasn’t blind. She knew nothing had improved, even if he had found a temporary relief.

Evie, however, had found no such relief.

She was starting to go stir crazy in this house. It was now so loud, so crowded. Even though she wouldn’t have changed having them home for the world, she could have done without the noise and interruptions her father and uncles brought with them. Especially when she had work of her own to do that didn’t involve horses, betting or being a Blinder.

She’d resorted to studying at Polly’s sometimes after school. She’d also resorted to utilising the Garrison during the quieter periods, when she knew almost no patrons would be inside. Harry never minded, in fact he was rather supportive, letting her and Lara (when her brothers drove her mad) utilise the private room for her study sessions.

At least they both understood the struggle of a busy, testosterone fuelled house. They also understood the necessity of having female allies to get through it all.

Like now, Evie had strategically placed herself in the parlour where Polly just happened to be sprawled out by the fire, a book in one hand, a cigarette in the other. She felt somewhat bad, utilising Polly as a human shield like this, but considering it was that or failing her maths test, Evie would take her chances.

“All done, Pol!”

Her aunt was quick to appear over her shoulder, glancing over at the girl’s work for herself. It was only after she’d given her nod of approval that Evie closed the book and put it back in her satchel by the door.

“Lord only knows where you get yer brains from because it certainly isn’t your father.”

“What can I say?” Evie grinned, trying not to let the praise make her too giddy. It wasn’t often anyone ever received it in this house, let alone from someone so important - or at least in Evie’s eyes. Her Aunt was one of the people she most admired in the world, and one day she’d have the confidence to say it to her face. “I’m a natural. Must be the Shelby luck.”

“It’s something alright,” Polly smirked, lighting the cigarette she’d had perched between her lips. “At this rate you’ll sail right out of Birmingham and to the stars one day. There’ll be no stopping a smart woman like you, not in today’s world.”

Evie secretly hoped she was right, even if she felt guilty at the thought of sailing beyond the smoky horizons of Birmingham one day. “If we can now have a woman in Parliament then who knows what’s waiting for me out there?”

“Amen to that - but don’t let the others hear you saying it.” Polly smirked again before shaking her head as her name was bellowed from somewhere else in the house. “Now go on. Get out of here, I don’t need anymore Shelbys under my feet.”

Evie didn’t need to be told twice.

She was quick to gather her things and run them back upstairs, to her room. As usual, she placed them back by her bed, spreading the rest on her makeshift desk by the window. She loved that spot. It always managed to catch any sunshine the city offered, as well as offering a decent view of the houses nearby.

It was a great spot to think in. To write. To dream of a world beyond the smoky streets of Birmingham such as the one Polly had just described. As she argued, there was nothing wrong with her dreams and she knew it. It was more the guilt at thinking of needing anything other than what Evie had here that kept her quiet.

She knew her family would never see her desire for more as anything other than insulting. Or nonsense. So, she was content to keep such dreams to herself, mere scribbles in a journal. Mere stories she wrote by candlelight and stored in her desk, under lock and key.

Maybe one day she’d do more with them. Publishing them had always been a possibility, as had living them to the best of her abilities.

Why couldn’t she have daring adventures?

She was a women. Yes. She was young. Yes. But why should that stop her from doing anything?

Evie chuckled at the thought, hurrying back out onto the landing. She couldn’t see her family sharing her opinions, other than maybe Polly and Ada. She knew giving them her copy of Mary Wollenstonecraft had been a dangerous idea.

Speaking of dangerous, Evie couldn’t help but pause as she reached her father’s doorway, staring inside. She hadn’t dared step over the threshold since the other night and the ordeal she’d experienced inside. It wasn’t one either of them had been willing to repeat. Even now, she knew she should have turned away and kept walking.

However, curiosity had always been a weakness of hers.

Her eyes flickered toward the nightstand.

It was as if a siren’s call echoed from it, coaxing her in, coaxing her closer.

Before she knew it, she had strolled over, opening the drawer and staring inside. Just as she’d suspected, her father had left the gun tucked away, wrapped in a cloth and out of sight. He would never agree to throw it out entirely but at least they’d found a compromise. The bullets loose in the drawer were all the proof she needed that the previous threat had been eliminated. If he now woke up and tried to fire, the worst he’d be capable of was giving someone a fright.

The wall, and the family’s sanity, were most grateful not to be at risk anymore. Despite that realisation though, Evie felt a sudden urge ran through her to hold the gun.

She knew better than to touch it, even if a part longed to. To examine the item that had almost ended her life. To know what it felt like to hold one, to know what damage she could inflict upon an other if she so chose.

She shook her head.

She’d stayed long enough as it was.

Yet, as she went to close the draw, something caught her attention. Something she hadn’t expected to see.

A pipe?

Since when had her father moved from cigarettes to a pipe?

Evie paused, checking the coast was clear before she picked up said pipe and held it up to the light. Almost immediately her face dropped. She didn’t have to be an idiot to know what was inside wasn’t tobacco. In fact, it was a smell she knew uncomfortably well from the streets of her old home in London.

Opium.

It had almost been a pandemic in London. She’d heard enough talk of dens that had opened and of the roaring trade being run through the docks of the stuff. Her neighbours had always been ones for gossip and there had been more than enough of it to go around regarding the filthy stuff that appeared to be flooding the streets.

She’d heard what it did to those consumed by its enticing grip. She heard of their decay, physically and mentally - if they escaped being caught taking it and sentenced to prison.

She’d even witnessed it first hand. The amount of times she’d seen addicts, penniless and lining the streets as they begged for money to fund their habit, was heart breaking. But such was London. It was a place for both the elite and the tormented souls that comprised the lowest rungs of society.

Evie’s blood ran cold to think of such a substance in her house. To think of someone she loved taking it.

Anger flooded through her, followed by disappointment.

She didn’t know what to say or think. Instead, she chose the safest option for now, which was putting the pipe back inside the drawer and closing it shut. Out of sight, out of mind, or so she told herself, hurrying out of the room.

Confused was an understatement for how she felt right then. Did she say anything, even though that would prove she’d gone into his room?

Did she not mention what she’d seen and simply hope her father would confide in her?

Or, maybe he’d simply stop taking it?

It was official. Being a Shelby was too complicated. When had this become their life? Where had the care free, simpler version of their family gone? The family who had spent summers cloud watching, and made each other laugh so hard they peed. They were never perfect, but no family was.

But nightmares and opium? It was a world away from what Evie was used to.

She didn’t care what Polly had said. Giving it time wasn’t something she believed she could do. Not when it made her heart race and her palms sweat. First, she had been shot at and now her father was an opium addict…

She had to get out of the house - preferably before she lost her sanity.

——

She wasn’t the first Shelby to escape the house by covert means.

Evie had discovered that fact for herself some time ago, after catching her Aunt Ada doing just that one night.

Ada had often been off by herself, enjoying the higher sides of life in the city - or so she said after being caught by Evie one night, shimmying in the bathroom window. Apparently her window had jammed shut, leaving her caught off guard.

Of course, Evie hadn’t said anything to anyone, finding the whole thing rather hilarious as Ada tried to gracefully sneak in, her fancy dress and mud stained heels doing their best to give her away.

In exchange for mutual silence, they’d agreed a plan. From then on, Ada had been all too willing, assisting Evie in selecting something appropriate to wear. She’d also been the one to give her the first pair of proper heels she’d worn too.

“Here,” she’d smiled, offering a slightly worn navy pair of t-strap shoes. “They’re your size but I haven’t worn them in ages. They deserve to see some fun again.”

And, boy - had they seen some fun since then. It was that same fun Evie longed for then, staring out the window and sighing. Another night of house arrest was akin to torture, especially if there wouldn’t be anyone home with her anyway. Polly would be at her home, Arthur and the men would be down the Garrison, and she suspected Ada was going to be out herself. That only left her, and her father, if he didn’t have some last minute business to attend to. That, or if John and Arthur tag teamed him.

It was Saturday night. Was it truly so bad for her just to want to have some normality in her life, some excitement? Most people she knew would be out on the town… and now, so would she.

Her plan made, it had almost been too simple to get away with it. After all, Lara had been begging her for a night out on the town for weeks now. She’d called her friends when it had been quiet, and agreed the details as per their usual routine.

All she had to do now was sit back and wait - a task she didn’t realise would be quite so challenging. Not when every moment that passed made her all the more tense and itch with a need to escape the house and the chaos within it.

For example, the meeting that had been happening across the house was making Evie’s mood steadily worse. Even sat with Finn by the fire in the parlour, it was hard to miss a word being said.

They had been discussing business for the last hour, debating races coming up, issues with the office and staff, as well as a few skirmishes here and there. Apparently the Shelbys weren’t the only ones interested in expanding their business and takings now that the war was over.

“We’ll need their support if we want to keep that side of the territory,” her father explained, watching a very irate John and Arthur rile themselves up at the prospect of a fight. “We need to offer an alliance to the mill workers. They know what’s going on in that part of the city, as well as the fact they sit dangerously close to the Lees.”

“We can’t let those bastards snatch their support,” Arthur roared. “We need man power. Tom’s right. We need to send over an offer of peace.”

“I can do it.”

“You, Tom?” Arthur blinked. “It’s dangerous territory over by the Mill. Let one of the other lads deliver the message. It ain’t worth the trouble.”

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem, eh?”

“Tom-”

Tommy shook his head, chuckling as he patted his older brother’s shoulder. “Come on, Arthur. I can take care of myself. Besides, there’s three Shelby brothers. Mum had her heir and John can be the spare if anything happens to me. What’s one less Shelby?"

The laughter from the group was instantaneous. Except for Evie. In fact, she could feel her blood boil as she turned and stormed from the doorway. Any guilt that had been lingering in her gut about her nocturnal plan had evaporated at the comment.

How dare he? How dare he prance about like some king of the castle? He’d swanned off for four years, leaving everyone and everything behind as if they had been a pair of old socks.

He could risk his life in the trenches?

He could disrespect the miracle of his survival, something so many had been deprived, by risking his life again now?

He could take opium whilst ordering her about? Lecturing her about self preservation?

The hypocrisy was nauseating.

Evie swallowed, her fists clenching as she ignored the urge to say something stupid and start a fight she knew she would never win. There was stubbornness and then there was Shelby stubbornness. Instead, she stormed down the hallway, heading towards the parlour.

It was official. If Tommy Shelby could do whatever the hell he wanted, then so could she.

#ithebookhoarder #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby #john shelby #arthur shelby #thegangster'sdaughter

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alphawolfcraft · 3 years ago

Text

bloodshot (Marcus Tibbs)

hello readers this is a character study for Tibbs from bloodshot (2020) and me adding some head canons that I want to share with yall.

ps, my writing is not the best so sorry for the errors if there are any.

----*----

losing your sight on the fealed was more than terrifying. Marcus heard all sorts of horror stories from wars. limbs being blown off by mines. soldiers fall all of a sudden and out of nowhere because of a sniper. he even heard the story of pow's and civilians after they were freed from a prison camp. how the guards would look for any 'pretty' looking man if there were no ladies around for them to get off on. it made him shiver whenever he thought of the story.

and now look at him, in the field with his spec ops team heading toward their objective at a crawling pace. of course, all ops were like this moving inch by inch making sure there were no hidden traps or soldiers waiting to pop off a shot on them. wars were not like the movie's portal of war with a hero running around kicking ass and getting their girl in the end when they save the day. war was a soldier crawling across the field at a hideously slow pace. war was fearing when you'd be the next to fall among your brother with a bullet in your head. war was a mound of paperwork at your desk to the point you would fall asleep at twelve. war was satisfying the boredom that would spread across the camp like a plague when they were waiting for their next order. war was dealing with the unexpected like now.

the one's silent street was now a black ringing abyss with the underlayer of muffled voices that where screaming. Marcus at first did not realize that he was permanently blind the pain was washed out by the adrenaline that was being bumped into his vanes by his own body. at first, he thought he was unconscious but that thought did not make sense. he felt the ground underneath him and it did not explain the voices that sounded so close to his brothers in arms that were now becoming clearer as each second passed. then it hit him like a tone of bricks as everything came back as shattered crystals. he was blind. he could feel his own blood trail down his face like tears. he heard his brother in arm who keep repeating "I got you" as he was dragged away from whatever chaos there was on the battlefield. he felt the hands of a medic as they worked on trying to stop the bleeding.

he remembered feeling light-headed for days after they were able to get back to camp and him into the medical tent or that was how the place felt. he remembered being put under for surgery to get the shrapnel out of his destroyed eyes. he remember the bandaged around his head as the doctors told him that he would never be able to see. he remembers the crushing agony of the news. he remembers 'crying' his eyes burned but tears never came. he remembers his team saying their goodbyes to him as he was sent home for re-hab.

he remembers hearing a doctor promise the impossible.

Dr. Harting was the man of the man who promised Marcus the impossible. Dr. Harting promised he could get Marcus to see again. Marcus thought he was joking that this was some kind of horrific joke that the doctor made up. but his hope that the doctor was telling the truth and he could truly give Markus his sight back was like trying to swim against a raging current. so he agreed. he would work for Dr. Harting's company and the Docter would give him the ability to see again.

after the surgery, he was at first disappointed when he woke he could still not see. "were are still building your eyes" the doctor said when he was not high on painkillers

"building?"

"yes" he heard the doctor move closer to him "here let me show you" he felt his hand get gently take and guided to the back of his neck where he felt something like ports. it made him shiver. "this is where your harness will connect to your ocular system"

"why a harness?"

"It is less dangerous than trying to replace your real eyes" the doctor tolled him moving his own hand away from the port leaving Markus's hand alone "and your site will be much better than before!" the doctor chirped. Marcus was left to his thoughts as Dr. Harting left.

----*----

the first time with his 'eyes' he nearly puked after all this trial was supposed to get rid of any bugs in the system and make other adjustments to it. it was all so the fact he had a 360 view of everything around him and the clarity of a falcons eyes. it was weird seeing the world at his chest-height. it was weird to be able to watch people walk around him without the need to turn his head. it was a lot for the mind to adjust to. during the time of the first trial, he saw two others like him watching the whole ordeal. the first one was a girl who had something across her collar bone. the other was a guy. his legs were prosthetics and they look more advanced than any prosthetics he had seen. Marcus watched as the prosthetic leg bounced just like regular one.

Marcus later learned their names. the man was jimmy or Jim for short and the other was KT probably her initials Marcus suspected.

"Marcus Tibbs" was all he said when they first met

----*----

#bloodshot #bloodshot movie #bloodshot 2020 #kt #jimmy dalton #marcus tibbs

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livesincerely · 4 years ago

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Thoughts on sub Davey? 👀

(Disclaimer at the top, this answer stayed safely in T rated territory, but feel free to scroll past if this isn’t something you’re into 💕)

(Also, this ended up being a whole essay, then fun bullet points at the end, so sorry in advance, I’m just like this)

00000

So 👏🏼

I have already been called out a few times in comments/replies on the lowkey dom Jack vibes that show up in some of my possessive Jack fics, and also for that one scene in the first part of the domestic au.... 😅 I didn’t intentionally include dom/sub themes in those fics as I wrote them, hence why they’re not tagged that way, but there’s certain overlap between possessive character behaviors and dom character behaviors, so it’s understandable why they’d be read that way.

But as for like, actually writing a dom/sub thing? I’m not sure, honestly. I’m pretty happy playing with the dom/sub undertones that show up every once and a while—if I ever went full on I’d want to put some proper research into it to make sure it’s coming across appropriately (safe, sane, and consensual darlings! learn it and love it.) But I’m not against the idea? I guess I’d have to think on it more, and I’d need to have a prompt/scenario that I really loved, because writing smut is time consuming enough as it is, and I’m sure a dom/sub fic would only be more so.

But, as for thoughts on sub Davey...

So, while I do write Davey as the more submissive of the two, it’s honestly more that Jack is dominant than it is that Davey is submissive.

Jack is just a more, for lack of a better word, aggressive character. He’s a leader, he’s impulsive, he’s protective, he’s more hot headed, and I think (especially in a canon era setting) he’s more territorial. As the leader of Manhattan, he’s used to being listened to and there’s very much the sense that the Newsies are ‘his’ boys and lower Manhattan is ‘his’ terf, and everyone is his responsibility—which, since he’s the leader, then translates to being the one that’s willing/used to stepping up and making the first move, and in a sexual/romantic situation that turns into the dom Jack vibes that spring up in my fics.

And for me, since it feels natural to have Jack be so dominant in most situations, Davey compliments and counters that by being more passive, more diplomatic, more level headed. Additionally, Jack’s got the whole “I’ve always had to fight for everything I have, so I sometimes don’t know how to stop” thing going on, so it feels natural for Davey to foil Jack and be more submissive. Plus, Davey’s got the whole “world’s most oblivious smart ass” thing, and I love that for him. Flustered Davey is second only to flustered Jack... 😉

But, for me, Jack and Davey’s relationship is all about balance and give and take: Jack needs Davey just as much as Davey needs Jack. So, depending on how established their relationship is at the time, Davey swings wildly between being an unknowing distraction (letterman fic, everybody wants a taste) and being an absolute tease (you only have to ask, possessive kisses 1 & 2 of lets cut to the chase). Because, even though Jack has lowkey dom vibes/major protective and possessive vibes, he never acts on them unless Davey 1) gives him permission or 2) provokes him into acting, which in context is permission.

And god does Davey provoke Jack. It’s always so funny to me (even as I’m writing it) because it always takes Jack a while to catch on. And he tries so hard to resist, even when all he wants is to just press Davey up against the nearest flat surface and wreck him. And that scenario is never not fun—I live to lovingly torture Jack Kelly. So, I’d say that whenever Davey is being more submissive in bed, it’s 50/50 odds on if it’s because he’s actually flustered and instinctively succumbing to Hurricane Jack or if he’s intentionally pressing every one of Jack’s buttons. (Like I said, he swings wildly between innocently oblivious and purposefully provocative)

Honestly, Jack is probably the one who’s the most unchanging and predictable as far as what gets him going and Davey sort of does what he wants depending on his current mood. Like, for example, I have a whole unfinished tease entry where Jack’s been a little shit all day, flirting with and flustering Davey while he’s trying to work just because Davey blushes so easy and Jack loves it, but then Davey turns the tables on him later. It’s a sort of “service top, yet still playing the game” Jack matched with a “take charge, knows exactly how to get what he wants” Davey, if that tells you anything about my thoughts on their relationship.

And it’s sort of a role reversal, but sort of not: Jack’s super into it because he’s just super into Davey full stop—he doesn’t care if Davey wants to take the lead. And even as Davey’s taking the lead, there’s still that give and take/push and pull because it’s still Jack and Davey, if that makes sense? Idk.

Anyway, long story long, for me Davey and Jack are just really well matched and really into each other. Davey has subby tendencies but they’re mostly reactions to Jack’s dom tendencies, of which there are many. And Davey is always a tease, but whether it’s on purpose or accidental just depends on the circumstance. I don’t know if I’d ever go out and write a full, full dom/sub fic, but I’m really enjoying the hints of it that are coming through in my usual style, and I’m not against the idea.

***

It occurred to me after I wrote all of the above that you may have wanted a more... fun answer, not just ramblings on character and relationships. So have some bullet points? 😅

When Jack calls Davey “David,” in that low, growly, demanding voice??? Davey literally feels like his knees are gonna give out, just melting right on the spot, shivers down the spine, totally pliant and dazed. And it only happens when Jack’s really revved up, so it always takes Davey off guard when he says it. When it comes to playing the game and the back and forth between the two of them, Jack saying “David” is like, the ultimate dom move and usually the final warning before he absolutely wrecks Davey.

The easiest way for Davey to tease Jack is to wear any of Jack’s clothes, but especially his t-shirts or his jackets/hoodies. Jack cannot keep his hands off of him when he does—it kicks Jack’s possessiveness into high gear, and he’s already the more impatient one, just generally, so that’s a sure fire way to provoke a reaction when Davey wants to play the game. The only thing better than Davey wearing Jack clothes to tease him is Davey wearing Jack’s clothes for any other innocent reason, especially in a pre-getting together scenario. Because flustered, possessive-but-trying-to-hide-it Jack is so much fun. I mean, that’s literally the letterman fic in a nutshell, and it’ll be a big feature of the quarantine fic (once I get around to it 😅)

(I also just love clothes sharing as a trope, but I’m sure that’s obvious by now)

Also! Davey’s taller but Jack’s bigger and stronger than he is. And Jack is absolutely capable of holding Davey down, picking him up, and just generally man handling Davey around. I think it’s the letterman fic that has the scene where Jack holds Davey’s hips in place and grinds up into him because he’s being a mouthy shit? Yeah.

Davey gives Jack shit for constantly marking up his neck with hickeys, but he actually kind of loves it. He likes wearing Jack’s marks on his skin, sure—particularly the ones Jack bites into his neck and shoulders and the ones that show up on his hips and thighs from Jack’s fingers—but what he really loves is how Jack reacts to seeing the marks after the fact. Because wow

I’m sure there’s more, but this is already wayyy too long lol. Hope that made some kind of sense? Or, at least, wasn’t too horribly confusing?

00000

@umbre-honest

#*ask #*editor's note #thoughts? is a dangerous phrase to send me because i will genuinely just start rambling #but i hope this was somewhat interesting?#idk i tried #you: *sends ask*#me: here’s some nonsense #but thank you!!#blessings on your house 💕

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