#that i haven't kicked the shit out of her has to be some sort of testament to my patience as a person right?

[zorosangell]

⛥ﾟ・。 piña colada

synopsis: some women just can't take a hint... good thing Zoro's only got eyes for one girl.

cw: nsfw (oral: female receiving), this woman is really shameless, surprisingly tender Zoro, you two are so in love, kinda magical ngl, etc.

"Hey, there," a woman—who was in the tiniest bikini known to man—hummed, tone low as she approached the lounge chair. "I don't think I've seen you on this island before."

'For fuck's sake...'

Annoyed, Zoro let a heavy sigh out from his nose, not even bothering to glance in the girl's direction as his sunglasses shaded his harsh side eye.

You'd think after seeing eight other women walk dejectedly away from his umbrella, the others would catch the hint?

"Not interested," he stated, curtly, hands firmly tucked behind his head as he looked out to sea.

The woman chuckled, softly, completely ignoring his comment and taking a seat in the sand.

She sat criss-crossed, dropping her hands in her lap and using her arms to slightly push her tits together, attempting to endearingly lean closer to your swordsman.

"Don't be so hasty," she sweetly smiled, taking his rudeness in stride. "Haven't even given me the chance to speak."

"Well, that's 'cause I really don't give a shit what you say otherwise," he sighed, shutting his eyes.

"I can name ten other men off the top of my head that would beg to differ," she countered, slyly.

"I'm not other men."

"You certainly aren't..."

'Walked right into that one.'

His brows flattened, and for a moment he wondered if this was a real person talking, slightly glancing around to see if he could find a camera crew of some sort.

Yet, to his surprise, there was none.

"I have a girlfriend," he dealt the finishing blow, delivering the final line that scared away all the other women from before.

He could finally get some peace and quiet.

"I don't see her here," the woman shrugged, simply, as if what he just said made no difference to her.

Zoro threw his head back with an irritated groan, wanting nothing more than to drop kick the woman away and go back to napping.

This was all Luffy and Usopp's fault.

The crew had been docked on a tropical summer island for a few days, and for all of them, you and Zoro had gone down to the beach together and lounged in the sun—tanning, napping, eating, and drinking in rotation.

But on that particular day, the boys had whisked you away to go explore some cove they found on the beach's edge, leaving your swordsman to fend off the wolves by himself.

And at first, it wasn't that bad.

The girls that approached were polite and had pure intentions, and actually respected his wishes when he said he was uninterested.

But numbers four through eight?

Hell, the woman sitting next to him?

Less so.

"Are you deaf or somethin'?" he asked, brows furrowed as he sat up, not appreciating her comment at all. "I already told you, I'm not interested. So get lost."

"Oh, c'mon," she rolled her eyes with a laugh. "There's no way you actually have a girlfriend. No girl in her right mind would leave her man alone on a beach like this, especially if he was as handsome as you."

"Maybe that's why she's my girlfriend and you're not," he scoffed, sarcastically.

Her brow twitched, the remark clearly striking a nerve as her posture suddenly straightened, her sickeningly sweet tone turning sour in a second.

"Well then, maybe your girlfriend can step up and we can see who's really the shit," she spat, standing from her spot in the sand. "Since she's so fuckin' great, let's see how she fares in a fight."

A smirk rose to the woman's lips, her hand coming to rest cockily on her hip.

"I might not look it, but I'm this island's martial arts champion... And I've yet to lose a fight. So let's see how she does with her face in the sand."

Zoro paused a moment, almost disbelieving, lifting up his sunglasses and taking a breath to see if the woman was serious.

She was.

Deadly serious, actually.

'HA!'

The man threw his head back in a burst of uproarious laughter, the sound causing the woman to jolt with surprise, and slight fear.

She'd never seen his expressions range anything past annoyance, so seeing him so amused seemed almost uncanny, especially since he was nearly howling with hilarity.

But he couldn't help himself.

You, the woman with a bounty over one billion?

You, the woman with the devil fruit of the personified spirit of death?

You, the woman who has fought literal monsters with her bare hands?

Lose to a random martial arts lady on a peaceful summer island?

It was almost too much.

The woman's brows furrowed, face warming at the mockery.

"The hell's so funny?!" she huffed with a childish pout.

Attempting to regain his composure, he wiped a tear from his eye, slightly clutching his stomach as his laughs died down.

"She'd fuckin' kill you," he chuckled, shoulders bobbing. "Like actually."

Furious, the woman broke into a long-winded tirade about why she would win... or how badly you would lose... or something along those lines.

If he was being honest, he zoned out the moment she started talking, something more interesting seeming to catch his eye.

You.

Like a dog with a bone, he watched, mesmerized, as you made your way over, hips looking ripe and tender for the grabbing.

'Goddamn...'

After days in the sun, you'd developed a delectably smooth tan, the sunscreen you had him apply earlier giving your skin an alluring shine.

Eyes scanning over your body, he took in the light (f/c) of your bikini, which had a few complimentary, (o/c) flowers decorating its corners, along with the waist beads resting lazily over your stomach, not to mention the gold anklets and bracelets that littered your ankles and wrists.

You looked good enough to eat—a thought he didn't mind indulging in later.

"Hey! Are you listening to me?" the woman continued pestering him, her hand coming up to rest on his bicep.

Huge mistake.

Faster than she could even see, Zoro grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand off and staring her down with a deadly glare, his patience long since run thin.

The woman froze, fear slowly creeping into her chest at the sharpness of his eyes.

He looked like he had half the mind to slit her throat right there.

"I'm only gonna tell you this one last time..." he warned, tone leaving no room for argument. "Get. Lost."

Roughly, he let go of her, and she quickly scrambled to her feet, scurrying back over to the safety of her friend's towel just as you arrived.

"Hey, Zo'!" you chirped, taking a seat on your swordsman's lap as you took a sip of your cocktail, which was in a cut-off coconut.

"Hey, pretty," he greeted with a smirk, placing a kiss on your neck. "Whatchu got there?"

"Some kinda coconut-rum drink," you answered, plucking the pineapple off the rim and taking a bite out of it. "The guy at the bar called it a Piña Colada."

Zoro nodded, "S'it any good?"

"Might be a bit too sweet for you," you shrugged, holding it out to him. "But try it."

Leaning forward, he sipped a bit from the straw, his nose scrunching slightly.

It was incredibly sweet.

"Yeah, I figured as much," you giggled, amused by his expression as you took it back. "By the way, who was that girl that went running away from here? She looked scared."

Slightly, you leaned over to glance at her, who was sitting not too far away, and raised a brow as she quickly turned around, terrified by your gaze. 

'The hell?'

"Was she in trouble or somethin'?"

Zoro chuckled, knowingly, his hand sliding up your side to give your hip a lackadaisical squeeze. 

"Nah," he shook his head, finally leaning back and allowing himself to relax in the chair. "Just needed help takin' a hint."

"So... I miss anything while you were on your trip with Luffy?" Zoro asked with a smile, slowly gliding his oar through the sparkling ocean.

You lit up with excitement, suddenly reminded of the events of the day.

"I wish I dragged you along! You woulda loved it," you sighed, leaning back in your spot in the canoe. "Turns out this island isn't as peaceful as we thought. When we went to the edge of the beach, we found tons of monster-sized crabs and lobsters, all of them strong as hell."

You smirked, holding up your fist.

"Me an' Luffy made a game over who could beat the most, while Usopp kept count. And we ended up in a draw."

'Damn.'

That blew his day fighting off women right out the water.

He should've gone with you.

"What about you? Anything interesting happen while I was away?" you asked.

"Eh," he shrugged, moving his oar to the other side. "Nothin' worth mentioning. My day was honestly pretty boring."

But he was hoping to change that.

While you were gone, he found Nami and Robin on the beach, and managed to weave through theirs sea of admirers in order to ask some advice.

Things had been going really great between the two of you, and since you were always so good with surprising him with gifts and gestures, he wanted to try his hand at it.

Of course, he had no idea where to begin.

And while Nami was little to no help, spending most of the time talking his ear off about how brutish and hopeless he was, Robin recommended taking you out to the nearby cove for a romantic night.

So, after scrounging up his island allowance and buying some booze and a canoe, he swept you away, all of the day's tribulations fading to the back of his mind as he watched you sit down in his lap.

"Y'know, this is really sweet of you, Zoro," you smiled, your fingers carefully tracing the scar across his chest. "Makin' me feel all special..."

He nodded, eyes raking over your face with an almost analytical look.

God, you were so fuckin' pretty.

It was almost baffling.

If he wasn't in this canoe—

"Figured you deserved something nice," he cleared his throat, warding off the less than decent thoughts creeping into his head.

He couldn't keep the romance up if he was too busy thinking about jumping your bones.

But little did he know... you were thinking the same thing.

Shifting your position, you rested your knees on either side of him, smoothly moving to bury your face in his neck, placing firm, meaningful kisses on his flesh. 

Instinctively, the man leaned into your touch, one of his hands coming up to steady you at the small of your back, while the other continued to paddle.

Gliding your manicured hands up his body, you rested them on his strong shoulders, using them for purchase as you continued to nip at him.

His chest rumbled with a deep hum at the feeling, relishing in the way your lips felt against his pulse point, sucking a hickey onto his skin.

Yet, just as it was getting good, you pulled away with a soft pop, moving to obscure his view of the water.

"I'm blockin' you. You can't see. What're we gonna do?" you grinned, cheekily, continuing to move in front of him as he tried to peer around you. "Oh, my Gods, we're gonna crash."

He looked up at you with a small smirk and a raised brow, amused, as you continued your antics.

"Oh, no. What's gonna happen?"

Suddenly, his hand roughly pulled you into his side, a soft squeal leaving your lips as he chuckled, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck and continue your kissing assault while his two hands returned to the oar.

Nuzzling into the crook of his neck, you peppered lazy kisses on his skin, your hand coming up to card through the hairs at the base of his neck.

Tenderly, Zoro placed a few kisses of his own on your shoulder, his eye perking at the sight of your destination.

Robin had given him impossibly thorough instructions on how to get there, which is the only reason why you two hadn't miraculously made it to the next island.

"Hey..." he lightly nudged you as the boat approached the shore. "We're here."

Lifting your head, you carefully flew out his lap, touching down on the dry sand as he hopped into the shallow water, walking around to the back and pushing the canoe onto the shore.

"Oh, wow," you gasped, in awe at the beauty laid before you. "This is beautiful! Look at the view"

The moon hovered over the water, making the waves crystallize like diamonds below, just as the stars in the ink-black sky.

The sea breeze wafted your hair and cooled the sweat on your body from the heat of the day.

It felt good to get away from people, the serenity too nice to put off.

Suddenly, Zoro scooped you up, you in one arm and the case of booze in the other as he began walking toward the cove.

"It gets better," he smirked, leading you over to where the tall rocks flattened out and arched upward, turning themselves into a natural cabana.

Placing you down, he quickly gathered some sticks from nearby, before bringing them back and starting a fire.

And as he did so, you couldn't help but marvel at his body, thick, corded muscle flexing and extending under his skin at each minute movement, looking delicious enough to bite.

And that wasn't the blood-sucker in you talking.

You sighed in contentment as you tipped your head up towards the sky, admiring the stars twinkling above

Finishing up, Zoro plopped down beside you and threw an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side with a proud smile.

"Nice, right?" he chuckled.

You lazily nodded, wanting to stay there forever—among the water, stars, and him.

You peered up at him through your lashes, hesitant to speak in fear of ruining the moment.

Slowly, he wrapped his arms around you, engulfing you in them. And you let yourself be pulled into him, sighing when your head met the crook of his shoulder.

You embraced him back, crushing your breasts against his hard chest. 

There, you two stayed, holding each other, linked together like magnets.

"You smell nice," he murmured into your skin, taking a deep inhale of you. "Like coconut."

You smiled, shyly, warmth rising to your cheeks at the compliment.

And after a few silent seconds, he pulled away from you, his eyes dark as the night sky.

"I'm gonna kiss you," he stated, curtly, his gaze alight with enamor.

You didn't get to say a reply, too preoccupied with the lips pressing against yours.

The kiss was hungry, your lips moving against each other's like you both were starving for one another.

And you were.

You could tell Zoro wanted the same thing you did when his hands moved below your waist to squeeze your ass, the feeling making you moan into his mouth.

He replied with his own grunt and pulled away, his eyes glazed over with lust.

"I wanna see you," he stated, his voice a deep rumble.

There was a molten tenderness in his gaze that had you shivering in pleasure and anticipation, wondering what else he had in store for you.

So you stripped.

Catching the hint, your hands glided up your back, pulling the string of your bikini top and letting your breasts fall out of the cups, along with the strings to your bottoms.

Zoro's eyes raked over the sight of you as if you were a piece of art he was admiring in a museum.

"Shit," he softly hissed to himself, amazed at the sight of your brown, hardened nipples.

You softly whimpered at his calloused hands caressing your sensitive breasts, causing him to move on to other matters.

He leaned in and latched his lips onto one of your nipples, where he began to suckle on.

You threw your head back to stare at the endless sky, your mouth open in an O as pleasured moans fell from your lips.

You couldn't help yourself, especially when Zoro began to suckle and flick his tongue along the sensitive bud of your nipple, his hand kneading your other breast in the process.

Then he switched, giving your other breast the same treatment.

Your hands found his hair, your fingers aimlessly wandering through the green strands.

You were ruining its somewhat even style, but he didn't seem to care.

He was more concerned with nibbling along your nipple, making you sharply inhale before your voice choked on a broken moan.

You couldn't take it.

All of this was going straight to your core, which was now throbbing and begging for attention between your thighs. 

"Please, Zo'..." you whined, gripping his hair. "I need you to touch me."

With a cocky smile, the man nodded, slowly leaning forward to lay you down in the sand.

Your eyes flitted up to the torch lit beach across the water, realizing any eagle-eyed person could come out and see you naked.

"Wait... what if someone sees us?" you asked, uncharacteristically timid.

A devious smirk rose to his lips, and he pressed a reassuring kiss on your lips.

"Let 'em... They'll be in for a show."

Gently, he pried your thighs open, revealing your sobbing, wet core.

You watched his face change from playful to downright feral as he stared at your cunt.

You flushed at his expression.

'Gods, give me strength...'

"Zoro, I'm serious—"

He shushed you, leaning forward to press wet kisses along your inner thighs.

"No more talkin', pretty," he growled against them. "All I wanna hear is my name on your lips."

He continued to pepper you thighs in kisses while his hands pinned your legs apart, his hold on you firm.

He didn't want you hiding from him.

And it felt good.

You didn't stop him when he dove right into your pussy, first peppering your lips and clit in open-mouthed kisses as if he was making out with them.

It had been so long since the two of you'd gotten intimate like this, you nearly forgot the way the man worked his mouth.

Especially when he started to flick his tongue against your clit.

His tongue swirled around it and flicked it gently based on your responses.

And shit, you were responding well.

Your body couldn't help but react pleasantly to the sensations—your toes curling; your back arching; your eyes fluttering shut; your mouth falling open into an O as moans and gasps fell from your lips.

Zoro was not only good with his tongue, but good with his hands.

He reached up and played with your titties, tweaking and pinching your nipples according to your verbal cues.

"H-Harder, please!" you begged, to which he pinched the hard, brown peaks a little harder, the burst of pain making you gush all over his lips.

"Fuck, Zo'," you moaned. "That feels so good..."

Zoro hummed approvingly into your cunt, the vibrations making your clit quiver pleasurably.

"Keep feelin' good for me, pretty," he said between the wet flicks of his tongue on your rosebud. "Lean back and wrap your thighs around my head f'me."

Before you could even say anything, he was already tugging you closer by your ankle, earning a squeal from you.

He stood on his knees for a moment, taking you in.

His lust-blown eyes trailed up and down your naked form, drinking in every part of you.

Then he inhaled deeply, as if struggling to process the sight in front of him.

"Christ, you're so fuckin' gorgeous," he huskily said.

You had no idea what to say to that.

All you could do was shyly smile up at him as he stared down at you, both of you enchanted with each other.

Then he was ducking back down and throwing your thighs across his shoulders with ease, wrapping your legs around his head.

This gave him better access to your pussy so he could easily tongue-fuck you.

As soon as you felt the wet muscle entering your wet folds and his nose brush against your clit you were in heaven.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and your hands found his hair, gripping the blonde strands as your hips began to grind shamelessly into his face.

"Mmm-hmmm," he hummed approvingly, keeping up the pace.

He didn't pause or slow down.

He continued to work your pussy just how you wanted, making you see stars behind your eyelids and cry to the moon above.

It didn't take long for that feeling of release to dawn on you.

You couldn't help it.

His tongue just felt too good.

Plus, the atmosphere and the whole idea of getting caught in such a risque position turned you on more than you'd like to admit.

Zoro must've realized you were close because his jaw started to move fast, accompanying his tongue-fucking with porn-worthy grunts of his own that nearly threw you over the edge.

"Fuck, Zoro!" you whined. "M'gonna come!"

Eagerly, he hummed into your pussy, pulling his tongue out of your hole and proceeding to suck on your clit while his finger began to stroke the outside of your slit, barely touching your insides.

But it was enough to push you further and further down that road to releasing all over him.

His darkened eyes flicked up to yours, staring you down between your thighs.

"Come for me," he demanded. "Come for me, baby. Don't fuckin' hold back."

He grinned up at you, his eyes glistening in the moonlight.

He attached his mouth to your pussy again, and ran it until you couldn't help but fall over the edge.

"Come for me," he groaned into your cunt, becoming gradually louder as your moans reached higher pitches. "Come for me. Come for me. Come for me."

And you finally did.

That tight knot in your core finally snapped and a wave of euphoria washed over you as you came all over Zoro's face and eager lips with a loud moan.

You saw the entire galaxy and beyond as your pussy gushed, your body shivering and shuddering.

Your back arched and your hips widened into Zoro's face, trying to keep as much of the feeling going as possible.

When it finally faded, you were left feeling tired, spent, and oh-so good.

Zoro lazily cleaned you up, taking care to not overstimulate you as he ran his tongue over your sensitive, twitching core.

Then he lifted his head up away from your thighs, giving you a peak of his chin and mouth shining in your juices.

With the moon in his glazed eyes, he hummed to himself.

"You taste better than the rum."

[storiumemporium]

Terminal

Chapter 1 - Spring Cleaning

It Happened™️did I think it would happen? No. But it happened and here we are and it's terminally bad 😭

Bob Reynolds x Fem!Reader | Word Count: 7.3k | Mature | I don't think it has any tags quite yet? | Future tags - Experimentation, Child Abuse, Agoraphobia, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, General Cute Shit |

“What can you do?” “Well…” you start after a pause that goes on too long. “I am- I am one of the foremost black hats in the country, cracking code is sort of my thing. I’m- Miss de Fontaine wishes for me to become the brain for your operation, handling the technological side of your missions so that you can focus on the physical parts.” "Is that why you’re not here, then? Keeping your identity concealed?” “Oh God no! No… I just- I work best from where I am right now.” And nowhere, nowhere else. --- Fourteen months following the void out of Manhattan, Valentine Allegra de Fontaine has you assigned as the newest member of her struggling superhero team. The New Avengers. You serve as their eyes and ears, their brain, and their personal AI in the style of famous JARVIS, though you lack the cool accent. Oh, and you also haven't left your home in nearly a decade, so.

Bucky thought himself to be a long suffering kind of guy.

Just… you don’t make best friends out of Steven Grant Rogers - any iteration of Steven Grant Rogers - without an unusually high penchant for tolerating bullshit in your day to day. Oh, your buddy is ninety-seven pounds and picked a fight with a guy bigger than you are, Buck? No problem, go get your ass kicked too if it means keeping him out of the hospital.

Oh, your buddy entered an experimental program while you were locked away in some HYDRA camp? No problem, just follow the lunatic wherever the hell he decides he wants to go.

It just didn’t matter, if Steve wanted to do something then Bucky was the guy.

The problem is - and half a dozen therapists have forced him to accept it by now - is that this isn’t just a Steven Grant Rogers thing. This is a James Buchanan Barnes thing.

Which is why he now is in charge of all of these assholes.

Fourteen months and twelve days since the New Avengers made their entirely unplanned debut to the world, and the barely rebranded New Avenger’s Tower had become something like a home and a hub all in one. It wasn’t as if the informally known Thunderbolts had anywhere else to go. Alexei wanted to be with his daughter, Yelena wanted to be an Avenger like her sister, Bob just wanted to be with people who cared for him, Ava did not oppose the lavish new means, and John was… himself.

Bucky? Well. He was between things, except the between period had only gotten longer and longer, and he was having a harder and harder time imagining being anywhere else than here. They’d grown on him, like mold. Or tumors.

Truth be told, they needed each other. It wasn’t outside the realm of Bucky’s psychology to understand that going it alone just wasn’t feasible. It wasn’t for ordinary people whose worst traumas were the goldfish they accidentally killed as a child, and it definitely wasn’t for people like them.

So he stayed, and really, he didn’t even try to figure out a reason not to stay.

The Tower, since it’s renovation, has undergone a nauseating trading of hands across the members of the Thunderbolts in a way that reminded Bucky of old school Tom n’ Jerry until finally landing on it’s longest and most comfortable configuration. The things that had stayed the same: all communal areas of the Tower remained squarely in the dead center, just above the neighboring office buildings, and positioned so that everyone had to be equally inconvenienced on travel time through the skyscraper. Bucky remained in the same floor he has been since they moved in- nobody was really willing to fight him on it on account of stubbornness. Bob got to keep the floor closest to the communal center, directly beneath. He didn’t like heights, and no one had the heart to force him to be far away.

Yelena took a floor close to Bob, Alexei took the floor closest to Yelena. John made sure to take the furthest floor he could from Bucky, leaving Ava in the middle.

Somehow this still created conflicts. Mostly in the fact that John and Bucky shared an elevator and the bastard was always racing him to use it first, leaving the other waiting there god knows how long dependent on where they were going.

In spite of their infrastructural warfare, the arrangement was nice.

Everyone stuck close by even with the immense amount of space afforded - often made uneasy by the scale - and the communal spaces of the Tower ended up being the most used for all things, sometimes even sleeping when nightmares or thoughts got severe enough to warrant not being alone. They all had them, but it was most often a divided line where some needed that space distinctly more often than others.

Bucky had categorized it into type S and type C, he was told type Stable and type Crazy were a little too harsh. So it’d been rebranded to Stable and Catastrophizing. He liked to think of himself as belonging to type S, sitting squarely alongside Yelena and Ava.

Progress for them meant a slow and arduous crawl from one rung of a seemingly infinite ladder to the next. Months on end of grueling and thankless work filled with uncomfortable conversations and deep personal confrontation to hopefully inch the tiniest bit forward on the path. The type of progress that Bucky knew intimately felt as if it wasn’t actually progress, at least in the moment. All these changes so minute that they could be overlooked in favor of all the places you should already be. You had to look back over the weeks, months, and years to really see how much you’d improved yourself.

John, Alexei, and above all else Bob belong to Catastrophizing.

He’s watched them make massive leaps and bounds seemingly in a matter of months, comparatively overnight versus his own progress. The sort of rapid adjustment to life that Bucky could bite steel over. Cutting their hair, putting on - conversely losing - weight. New clothes, a better outlook on life. It felt like some romanticized iteration of recovery where a hug and a ‘you matter!’ were enough for them to simply be cured of their afflictions.

Then the crash would come.

They would fall harder than Yelena, Ava, even he himself ever had. Possibly even combined*.* A total square one restart, if not at times worse*.* Like they’d taken eight steps back from when they first met each other. Somehow spitefully stuck themselves even deeper into the mud. It was always a titanic, catastrophic sort of mess. The kind of thing that couldn’t truly be prevented, only patiently waited out.

For Alexei that usually meant hiding the alcohol, forgiving the disappearance of food. Not acknowledging the couch has been robbed days in a row as he was robbed of the willpower to get off it and sleep in his own bed. Quiet nights spoken in Russian between himself, Yelena and Alexei. Tender with his daughter, reminiscing with Bucky.

For John, sparring matches that turned into outright fistfights. Vicious words that weren’t truly meant, met with stone until the soldier would hiss and seethe and retreat into himself and his room. He’d only reemerge days later looking a husk, a peace treaty offered by coffee and a conversation no one really wanted to have. Shave, Walker. Fuck you, Barnes. The shadow gone from his face and his eyes by next morning.

Bob? Holding on, no matter what. Sometimes that meant dealing with the ache of seeing him recoil harder from a gentle touch than he would a harsh slap. Dark, soft blue eyes turning beady and sharp with paranoia at the concept of freely given love and companionship. Catatonia met with meals, victories if he took even one bite. For Yelena, washing his hair when he couldn’t muster it. For Bucky, offering a hand Bob wasn’t afraid to crush in his sleep. When he needed to feel not-alone, but not-terrified of his own strength.

It was a system. A bad, fucked up, ill conceived one. But it worked, it was theirs.

They were getting better, their way.

This month has proven itself to be comparatively light in the mentalympics department, as Ava had called it and it had stuck. None of the Thunderbolts have been required to leave the Tower at any point in the last few weeks, taking it as their paid-for vacation meant that the only times anyone braved the city that never slept was to stock up on large amounts of booze and snacks- too impatient for the weekly drop off to arrive. From there? Game nights, movie nights, show nights. Charades has come up an alarming number of times with Yelena topping the scoreboard most frequently and Alexei consistently failing to guess almost anything. John and Ava have made a running pool on how many times the man can somehow derive Soviet era propaganda out of the weird undulations another member of the team is making.

All of this is pockmarked with training sessions, evenings taken to snoop around the tower (a year later and new things still keep getting found). And sometimes the overhead being stolen to play music while everyone brings blankets and pillows from their floor.

Ava and Yelena started it. Bob joined without much hesitation. Alexei joined with no hesitation. John and Bucky were pretty helpless to deny what they knew was coming.

The sleepover tradition.

Still, it’s early in the morning and there’s no guarantee anyone will posit that tonight be the night everyone clusters the sunken conversation pit with all manner of malleable objects to sleep on. Instead, Bucky scrolls through the The New Yorker on his phone while drinking dubiously spiced coffee out of a mug labeled ‘badass babysitter’ on the side with little cartoon flowers strewn across it in pastels. He’s already fully dressed for the day, and the deep navy blue and sheer black contrasts entertainingly with the salmon colored ceramic. Alexei’s word, not his. Across from him is Yelena, phone also in hand and feet on the table. John has been warring with her penchant for climbing on furniture for some time now, Bucky knows he’s already lost. She’s adorned in one of the many bundles of Avengerz clothing Alexei had procured for the team since everything went a touch sideways, avidly denying to ever be seen in public with it and yet unable to deny the softness of the pajamas. Her hair is unkempt, pale tresses scattered about and her face bare of any makeup. She looks unguarded like this, just taking space rather than commanding it per her usual.

“Do you think it’s been too quiet, lately?” Yelena’s voice cuts abruptly across the table at him, her head suddenly lifting from her phone and toward the ceiling, conversational but loud enough for the muscles in Bucky’s shoulders to twitch reflexively. Her brows pinched like she was wrestling with a puzzle. “I mean, there hasn’t even been a fire in the kitchen this last week. It feels wrong. We’re never this pleasant to be around.”

Bucky’s phone clicks dark, clattering gently on the steel-and-glass surface provided by Valentina’s many interior designers. Sterility was in, apparently. “Hello to you too, Yelena. Don’t jinx it, maybe?”

To that, Bucky is rewarded a shit eating smile from his friend. Though she’s still not exactly turned to look at him, her head has canted further in his direction knowing that he’s taken her bait for the morning. “Please, better to know now so that you’re prepared when all the good behavior comes back as something much, much worse for you later.”

The ‘for you’ was pointed, badass babysitter glinting ominously on the side of his cup as he took another sip from it.

“Well, I would like to continue believing you’re all just finally beginning to grow up. I’m very proud.”

“Who- uh, who is growing up around here?”

Bob found his way up from the floor below, finally. Though the man struggled with sleep it didn’t typically make him any more of an early riser, certainly not the way Bucky was- instead, if Bob wasn’t already camped out in the living room watching the sun come up, he was often close to the last to arrive.

“Absolutely no one, but we can let the old man dream.” Yelena is grinning once more at him, a little less sharp as Bob passes around the two of them on his way to the fridge. “I was just saying that this place seemed a little too quiet as of late.”

And without a beat missed; “Don’t see that lasting too long.”

“See! I told you.”

Eggs are tossed onto the counter, organic as demanded by John. A pan retrieved from it’s designated ‘we don’t care what happens to this one because it’s cheap and maybe someone stole it?’ spot, also known as Bob’s favorite spot in the kitchen (he lacked guilt if these ended up destroyed in some way or another) to be placed on the electric burner and warmed. Scrambled eggs, or omelettes? He was feeling pretty good, so maybe something a little fancier this time. He liked to treat himself in these tiny ways, because it felt like a reward but one he had to… earn? You don’t get nice omelettes if you don’t learn how to cook them yourself, type of thing.

Just as fluidly as he’d entered the conversation, Bob slips free of it, electing to become a background ear to the chaos of Yelena and Bucky chattering at each other. Their voices morphing into a fuzzy blanket over his still waking mind. A metaphorical radio turned on low so that he could focus on swimming to consciousness rather than the creeping anxiety of too much silence. The cadence of their voices soothing, the familiarity of it cozy and predictable. Today it seemed they were bickering over whether or not the Tower was going to be - wait, he wasn’t exactly paying attention. Something about firebombing the garden?

He hoped not. He liked it out there. Being outside without, y’know. Being outside. Still wasn’t quite good at that one.

Omelette to plate, plate to table, Bucky watches Bob situate himself dead in the center of his exchanging of light barbs with Yelena. The food passing into his mouth without much consideration, dark eyes blinking out at the windows across from them. This, itself, was an update for Bob. At the beginning even false tensity tended to make the mans’ hackles rise, waiting for the moment it turned severe and he needed to duck out of the way of whatever aggression was working it’s way out.

Now, he snorts to himself when Yelena calls Bucky frostbitten.

He’s a little like Yelena in that regard, in that he feels like a person inhabiting a space these days. But where Yelena hid behind a deadly persona, Bob had just seemed ashamed to need the same air they did. A little ghost with his shoulders to his ears. Now? Now he lets the tongs of his fork clink against the plate without wincing, and openly pays attention to the conversation he hasn’t reentered himself into.

John and Ava have returned after their first round of disturbing Bucky’s well needed relaxation in the breakfast area, and Alexei is finally arriving for the first time that day as Bucky is retrieving his and Yelena’s third cup of coffee, Bob’s first. (He wasn’t the most fond of coffee, but he appreciated the pick-me-up, especially when a frankly nauseating amount of creamer was involved.)

“We really need some kind of big spectacle, yknow? Just- yeah we can say we’re the Avengers and we can live in the old crews place, but we really need to kick some ass to secure our hold in it.”

“Well what do you propose, John? Beam a signal out into space? ‘Hey aliens, come here and pick a fight with us so we can look cool to the other people here!’”

“Pfft, no. They’d never agree to that.”

Ava is squinting at him from her position, close to Yelena who has now moved close to Bucky as the chairs shuffled around to accommodate the other three bodies clustering in. Bob has started to hit proximal capacity, with his shoulders squeezed slightly even though no one came close to brushing with him. It didn’t help that the man got caught between Alexei and John for company, both make their brand of obnoxiousness into a flag they bear proudly.

“Look, I’m just saying! We wouldn’t be having these problems if we were doing more than fight people the public never get to hear about in the first place.” John was poking at his second breakfast of the day, something he’d apparently ordered off Doordash? to be brought to the tower of all places, pushing around browned sausage and crisp hashbrowns and gravy and other assortments of things. “At this point we’re just doing the same thing we always did but together. And with matching suits.”

“Matching suits are good! Make us look strong, united!”

“It’s better that the public doesn’t know,” Bucky interjected over Alexei’s enthusiasm of identical attire, and had an elbow on his armrest now, waving about the other hand freely as he spoke. “If they know, that means we didn’t get there in time to stop them from doing something.”

“So you’re saying we’re too good at our job?” Ava, incredulous and scathing as ever.

“Yes!”

“No, not exactly. Just that sometimes this is thankless work.”

“Well maybe I’d like to be thanked.”

“Or at least keep getting paid.”

Bob’s eyes are darting about the conversation, watching how it develops without any really desire to partake. It’s not that he isn’t part of it, exactly. But that he doesn’t necessarily… care.

So what if they aren’t Avengers? Do they need to be? Isn’t the important part that they’re helping people?

His mouth opens to posit that question - dumb as it might be - to his friends, when:

“Ladies, gentlemen! I hate to interrupt.” It was like dousing ice across everyone in the room, for all the way all warmth and fondness fled out the windows and down the stairwell to some place they did not occupy.

Valentina’s voice still inflicted some sort of deep seated anger in Bob, he wasn’t sure why. Though he knew she was the one originally trying to kill all of them in the vault, and that according to Yelena and Ava she’d done… something with him while he was in his Sentry state, he wasn’t exactly sure what.

Maybe the part of him that twisted with rage still did.

It had him smacking his lips irritably, pushing the plate away curt enough that it let out a mild whistle against the surface of the table that didn’t go unnoticed. John’s eyes were on him steadily, recognizing that flare of temper for what it was. It was one of the few more serious conversations they’d ever had with each other. Anger, and managing it in ways that didn’t result in broken furniture or self inflicted bruises. He didn’t need to say anything for Bob to nod at him. I’m cool.

Little could be done by way of explaining the idiosyncrasies of a body fundamentally divorced from itself.

“There’s an exciting new update for all of you. Something very important. Non negotiable. Head for the boardroom, you have thirty.”

---

Less could be done to provide comprehension to the scope of deprivation it required to no longer feel apart of the species you were, by all rights, born to.

Basically, you were a rather difficult creature to explain or understand. Not that you had much by way of practice in doing that.

So, here’s the thing:

Manhattan, New York is one of the wealthiest areas in the world - much less the country, that you could live. Brownstones, historic districts, lavish parks, beautiful boutiques. It was a gorgeous place, green and lush, industrial and waiting with open palms for those who had the means to take it.

You were buried a quarter mile beneath Manhattan.

With the cold war came the advent of nuclear hysteria, the world ever terrified for a mushroom cloud apocalypse that would bring with it the winter to end all winters. The world would crumble away to ice and decay and all life would slow to a crawl until only the most adapted and isolated of creatures could outlast the Earth repairing it’s destructive near-end.

And then none of that happened, actually.

But the important part of that is what came from it. What you got out of it. Circa the 1960’s full terror had gripped the nation that our world was going to end, but if you were a particularly savvy (and exorbitantly rich) hotel owner in one of the nicest areas of the entire country, you were building fallout bunkers and you were doing it before it was cool. And with so many of these incredibly intelligent wealthy individuals making shelters of all different shapes, sizes, and needs… Some of them just slipped through the cracks, entirely forgotten about.

Which made them ripe for the picking, if you happened to stumble upon one that hadn’t been registered with local authorities.

This place was your baby, your home. Eight feet of solid concrete reinforced with steel, shored up with external struts to protect against water instability from the surrounding ocean, heavily ventilated, and thoroughly treated. Vault door, cameras everywhere, back up generators, a pantry you’ve meticulously stocked over the years. This thing was frankly massive, built to sustain an entire family comfortably, and not just a singular societal reject.

This place was built for the end of the world, and now it’s your entire world.

Most of your days are spent right here, well - okay - all of your days are spent right here. But not all of them in this exact spot. With your feet kicked up on the dashboard of your very own surveillance system. Thirty-two chest-sized CRT screens imbedded into the wall stare back at you with footage from all across the city on their static clung faces. Traffic, weather cameras, even random footage from peoples’ doorbell cameras. You weren’t invasive enough to go inside, even if the curiosity ate at you sometimes.

Your station has been meticulously equipped over the years of your stay. Some of it is as brand new as you could get, others are classics. An IBM Model M is sitting in front of you, retro old keyboard in the same dingy green-yellow-beige that the rest of the bunker is, unaided by the old fluorescents flickering above. It’s what you use to do your work - what they use to do all of your work for you. More like a marionette to their ministrations. Beside it are a DAC and amp stack for a nice pair of German headphones found on Guitar Center or Amazon, and a bougie Shure microphone you acquired by shorting people out of bidding on it on eBay. Your guilt assuaged by running a cursory background check on the seller, wife beaters don’t deserve money.

Right now, your heart is in your throat.

There was a reason you came down here. A reason you stocked and live in this place that you illegally siphoned hot water and AC and all the other good shit to, without anyone ever knowing. Because you didn’t want anyone to know.

People… the outside… It’s terrifying. And not in the- the casual shakes or the nervous rambling or even the puking kind of way.

In the way that you’d open a manhole cover and crawl down it, wait there for hours until you were starving to make sure absolutely no one is around, scrambling from tight corner to tight corner to find your den to hide inside. That level of fear.

Blood curdling terror.

Now you’re willingly going to be introducing yourself to an entire group of people. Digitally. But still.

You knew them too, sometimes New York has something interesting happen to it and you’re so far beneath the crust that you get to witness it like a fun little spectator. So when a massive chunk of the city had - they recently dubbed it - voided out, you didn’t get to experience the misery and the terror the people up top did. You watched it all happen from your wall of screens and your expensive speakers and your everything else. Insulated and safe.

You also watched the people you’re about to talk to, stop the void. Somehow. Nobody really knew. It just kinda- unvoided everyone and thing. Lucky, y’know?

Valentina had contacted you after months of relatively low interaction, mostly just sent missions where you surveilled and reported back to her team whatever movements or information you could gather from your eye deep, deep beneath the sky. And then collected the paycheck that let you buy all the nice things that currently sat around you.

Pain in the ass to get here, mind. Since you didn’t let anyone so much as see the area that leads to your home. Better safe than sorry, besides, the locally delivery guys have come to an understanding with you. The extra hundred for every delivery without inquiry helps.

Now though?

“It’s time.” Her voice, grating as ever, made worse when it sounded over the heavy speakers you had set around your home base. “You’ve coasted by on little jobs this far, but we finally have need of your assets. You’re coming out of the dark, Terminal.”

This wasn’t what you were built for, but even with all the skills at your disposal money still became a necessity after a point. Not everything you could ever want or need could be procured by scams and technobabble-savvy. Not everything came without a hit to your conscience.

Still, the laminate counter and all the peripherals you’d accumulated have been dusted and disinfected three times now, all thirty-two screens have been fussed at to no end and you’ve shocked yourself enough times that the muscle in your ring finger was beginning to respond angrily to the uninvited stimuli. The whole place hums passively, the buzz off the fluorescents had grated your last nerve over an hour ago and have been relegated to some incredibly old desk lamp you stole and repaired from an abandoned library ages ago. The room, usually bright and weirdly pear colored has now been reduced to shadow and blue and a blanket of orange. Your shape cut across the concrete floor. It makes the place feel smaller, somehow.

Admittedly, and you knew this was an incredibly morally dubious choice to make, but you were kind of… stalking them?

It was a little too easy to get inside the New Avenger’s Tower, the artificial intelligence that Valentina supplied in the wake of JARVIS and FRIDAY being disbanded was little more than a rudimentary shadow of it’s predecessors. It could lock and unlock areas, manage cameras and microphones, knew the locations of every room in it’s premises, could tell time, and weather… But that was about it. It was a glorified app hiding in the ceiling. This meant that what you thought would be a battle that could backfire and get you in hot water with Valentina slipped by so easily that you were watching your future teammates make dinner, oblivious to your existence.

And the intelligence, CASEY (Central Authority, Surveillance, something-something. Valentina had tried to tell you and it’d already been terrible before the third letter in the abbreviation) was either none the wiser or not well programmed enough to alert anyone of the extra eyes in their home.

It felt wrong, it was wrong, but your excuse to yourself as muttered into a dingy mirror in your bathroom was that it provided you with pregame knowledge and ample preparation. So you wouldn’t fuck this up, or react too badly to how they react to whatever is about to happen. It was just you doing your own reconnaissance! Don’t head into enemy territory unprepared.

Maybe you shouldn’t be thinking of them as enemies. But- oh well.

It’s t-minus thirteen to the formal introduction and conversation has been entrenched on the big reveal, the big you. Some think it’s going to be good- two, precisely. The rest are thoroughly geared toward this being a disaster because Valentina’s print is on it. Not, honestly, a bad way to gauge it. Still, it had your teeth sliding against each other in anticipation. They won’t trust you, they probably won’t like you. It’s an uphill battle from go, and the worst part is that your odds are lower than terrible with her branding all over you. Not- not literally. But still.

If she has a hand in it, they’ll think you’re just as bad as her. And that’s something you have to fight past, starting in a matter of minutes.

“Listen, she doesn’t have control over us, we can just ignore whatever the hell kind of stunt she’s trying to pull.” Crackles over speakers situated at each corner. They’re a good quality, but the microphones installed at the Tower are not, so that it almost rings every time sound pushes through.

“But do we? We have no idea what this is going to be, and no guarantee we can worm our way around it.” Distinctly from James Barnes, arguably the most easy to identify of the entire group. His arm a glowing beacon of acknowledgement for who he is and who he was.

Again. Fundamentally untrusting people. You’re walking into Siberia in a Hawaiian-dad shirt.

“She hasn’t done anything too crazy since this began, and it’s been an entire year. Maybe she knows better with all of us being the face now, you know, after attempting to set us on fire?”

In a morbid way, you wish you didn’t already know about that. It would have been a good distraction from the lead ball in your gut. But alas, O.X.E. has had you in their pocket for awhile now, and that means you’ve been panty raiding their intelligence for ages at this point. The moment you’d seen her face pop up on national television following the blackout, you’d gone on a fun little deep dive to see what she fucked up that badly.

So much. Like an embarrassing amount, really.

Another candy wrapper is discarded to the half full trash can at your side. You’ve pretzeled your legs into the recliner you use as your desk chair in perhaps the least professional display of your state anyone has ever witnessed. Only topped off when you drag a blanket off the back and burrito yourself into it.

Walking into humiliation with comfort.

The screens switch camera to camera without your added input - they handle it for you as you worry away at lifted skin around your cuticles, taking not chewing your nails as enough victory for the evening - as they pass through something like a million tons of steel, marble, granite, concrete, and two inch thick panels of tempered and laminated glass on their way to the room where your debut will be announced to them post hoc.

Good god, you’re going to be fucking sick.

Valentina is already standing there when they arrive, and even through fuzzy and less than pixel perfect resolution you can see the ripple of discontent. They didn’t realize she was already in the building, and they didn’t like the following thought.

She’s as polished and corporate as ever, every texture and color her suit and jewels were clad in most likely approved by an entire team of stylists to convey a particular image and sentiment just for this evening. Like armor of a slippery, slimy variety. They all sit as her face stretches around an interpretation of a smile, her eyes dark and flat and calculating. She’s judging how difficult the sell is about to be.

“Thank you for arriving almost on time, perhaps this time next year you won’t embarrass us in front of national press by showing up when you’re told.”

“Look if you’re just here to berate us about the quality of our answers on what ice cream is our favorite—”

“Oh, Jesus no. I know better than with any of you. No, I have something much better for all of you to get used to.”

Again, as your fingers curl in tightly enough around your pants for the material to sting against your skin, the room seems to get even more coiled without you physically being there.

“Terminal, my dear. Why don’t you introduce yourself?”

Fuck. Fuck.

You go to introduce yourself, realize your mic is cut, set it hot and clear your throat at once. A part of you, however small but certainly tangible and real, dies horribly. Why didn’t you clear your throat before the mic was live, dumbass?

“Well, I- I believe the introduction has just been made for me, but hello there,” this part has been rehearsed for you a thousand times. You’d written out a script and paced the entire bunker for a solid week following this day, editing, scrapping, and then rehearsing the things you wanted to say. To sound perfect, polished. Like you might not be a total mistake for Valentina to introduce.

Your voice is a little squeaky and off kilter, instead of energetic like you’d been going for. Your delivery feels as rehearsed as it is, and the tackiness developing on your ankles has you kicking the blanket you used for comfort mere moments ago away and onto the floor.

“I go by Terminal, and Miss de Fontaine - if she does not mind me saying - has brought me on board to be a-”

You can hear the quiet groan that passes from someone’s mouth, and your voice flattens unintentionally as you wish more and more that the bunker would suddenly lose all structural support and simply turn you into red mist.

“-a new member of the team. I hope that… we can get along, and I am- excited, to get started.”

Again, because the first two times weren’t good enough: Fuck.

There’s a ripple of disbelief and apparent anger, resignation, even a touch of outrage in some of their faces. Barnes seems the most ready to roll with it, his slow head bob visible from where the camera is fixated upon them. Walker immediately the most outraged by this, shouting something to the effect of how she could expect them to work with someone without their approval or - even knowledge that this was going to happen.

“Who the hell is this guy? And why don’t we get a say in it-?”

“There’s no way you’re going to just- forcibly slot some random person in and expect us to be okay with it-”

“Oh, please, more members are good for team! Means we get stronger and more official looking, eh?”

Their objections and affirmations blend into noise, and your head hits the back of your recliner hard. And then a few more times, for good measure. It was honestly just more frustrating, for once damning the cushion for not letting you get a satisfying thunk out of the abuses you wished to laud against your own skull.

Then, across the table and cutting everyone off:

“What can you do?”

It’s the one that nearly destroyed Manhattan, you realize after a stunned pause. He’s sitting there somewhat folded in his seat, his elbows on his knees as he stares in a random direction. Like he’s aware of your presence but maybe a little too oblivious to notice he should be staring at the camera that just moved to point directly at him.

He doesn’t seem particularly invested, one way or the other. Instead, just… curious maybe? There’s a sort of innocence in it, like he’s more fascinated by whatever specialty you’ve been given than the fact that Valentina is trying to throw off all the team dynamics because she can.

It’s also not a question you were particularly ready for, given that you thought Valentina would use that opportunity for further pitching you to your new team.

“Well…” you start after a pause that goes on too long. “I am- I am one of the foremost black hats in the country, cracking code is sort of my thing. I’m- Miss de Fontaine wishes for me to become the brain for your operation, handling the technological side of your missions so that you can focus on the physical parts.”

“Is that why you’re not here, then? Keeping your identity concealed?”

“Oh God no! No… I just- I work best from where I am right now.” And nowhere, nowhere else.

Bucky seemed to right himself then, more of his face becoming visible within the eye of the camera you’d hijacked some time ago. He still doesn’t look particularly happy with what is occurring here, and yet unlike the others - there’s some level of acceptance.

“There’s a reason you’re doing this, Valentina. We haven’t needed a tech up until this point, what’s going on?”

The wobble of her expression is visible, even here. “Can I not just bring in more hands for the New Avengers? Does there need to be a reason?”

“Yes.”

And just like that, the polish erodes and something annoyed and acidic and acrid crosses her face. The posture never leaves, but her hands move in a way that’s far less diplomatic and vastly sharper. Little stabs and slices that indicate the deep set dislike she holds toward the man who has called her on her shit.

“Fine. There’s a situation. Look- O.X.E. has reason to believe that someone is looking to replicate what was done with Robert. They’re sifting through old files, poking about in shut down facilities. I’m not concerned that they’ll find anything on account of the fact that we got rid of the evidence, but that doesn’t mean they’ll stop.

We’ve grabbed what intel we could, and beyond a few dozen mercenaries with almost as many murders under their individual belts as our favorite Widow here. They’ve also begun to collude with the likes of Mikhail Doyenko and Aantu Haikali.”

Manila folders are thrown by Valentina into the center of the conference table they’d clustered around, and after a moment of heavy pause, each member of the New Avengers reaches forward to grab their copy of the report. It’s thick, filled with a few dozen pages of information on the named individuals as well as the organization they��d fallen in with.

Enmis.

Their known goals are listed, what little scraps were found from each abandoned base O.X.E. has raided, too late to get them while they were still escaping. They were slippery, skilled, and growing vastly more dangerous by the day. You knew because you’d read the same thing they were, days ago.

“I recognize the name, Doyenko.” Belova is the one speaking, the Widow with the pale hair and the eyes too clear. The one who had charged headfirst into pitch darkness and managed to save the world in the process. “He’s a trafficker, isn’t he?”

“Precisely, but worse than your regular. He specializes in the enhanced, whether that’s serum or something else.”

“Which means he’s got the experience and the equipment to handle a group of super soldiers.” Comes Barnes’ following reply, voice steady as he follows what Valentina has provided on a candy trail.

“I mean, c’mon! How good could they be, just some random souped up idiots this guy snatched off the street to sell? We’re actual soldiers, we have combat experience!”

“And we are team, they most likely run alone, no? Not prepared to be overwhelmed by the mighty Avengers!”

You were glad to be irrelevant in the conversation again, your little tatters of self esteem were still smoldering after being so thoroughly dashed on your lack of communication skills. The most successful exchange you’d had today was one of the members of the team asking you what you even do to warrant being on the team, though you suspected that maybe that was a more harsh reading of his question than he’d meant.

Robert Reynolds, Bob. The Sentry, or The Void. Supposedly the very strongest on that entire team, but in a sort of arrested development situation. From what you’d gleaned off your own eavesdropping and the information Valentina offered you to try and use to your advantage, Bob - as he preferred to be addressed - had not initially been an active member of the team following the void out on Manhattan. It was only as he grew more listless from being left at base constantly, combined with the burgeoning realization that just because he wasn’t using his more extracurricular power hadn’t negated the part where he’s bullet-proof that they decided to put him on the roster.

Bit of a disaster, at first. Some reports about near void-outs, some things being destroyed that were meant to be preserved. Lots of communication issues. Just the whole gamut of throwing a random- random guy into the middle of active combat. Even training looked to be a bit of a doozy, if the recordings you’d plucked were anything to go by.

It wasn’t that Bob didn’t try, he tried very hard- and what he picked up on he seemed to learn reasonably fast. But the issue came in the fact that- a lot of sparring tended to involve one side losing in order to learn from their mistakes.

Bob can’t… exactly lose. Hard to get the physical element of training by failure when kicking him in the head as hard as you can might actually break your ankle before it bruises his head. So instead of learning instinctively through the pain and the mistakes that cost, Bob has to go about it the long and conscious way. Deliberately taking in the lessons he needs instead of it just becoming imprinted on his dislocated shoulders and broken collarbones.

In spite of this, he sees rather regular combat in the modern day. He’s less of an aggressive force and more of their bulwark. A big living meat shield, bulldozing clean through walls and tearing reinforced doors off their hinges to make progression almost frighteningly convenient. All the while he served as a happy lookout while they took on all the action. He was quite content with this arrangement, it seemed.

He definitely looks different from the initial photos the press released, back when no one knew who the hell this guy was and yet he’d been cloistered into the center of the group of heroes you see now. He’s gained weight and his hair is - well, not short. But certainly shorter than it had been. Curling wildly in these thick ringlets that caress his ears and neck, dangling down in front of his face where he habitually pushes them aside as he speaks, offering timid bits of opinion and potential advice that his team receives with a surprising level of openness. It looks healthy, he looks healthy. More flushed and alert than he had been when those reporters descended like hawks to snap every picture they could get.

“Haikali is the bigger problem,” Valentina cuts into the discussion as it turns about. Drafting up early ideas of how to circumvent Enmises silver bullet for seemingly half of the entire team. “Doyenko might be a problem in combat, but Haikali worked on Riptide back during the blip. The man is a genius and a certified lunatic, if anyone would come into approximation of what we did here with Robert, it would be him. Issue being, it would be a far uglier and more botched serum, and he wouldn’t care. They don’t need to survive long, they just need to get the job done.”

And that was the crux of it, now wasn’t it? Bombs didn’t last beyond one use, they just needed to take everything else out with it.

It sets a sort of unsteadiness throughout the group, even you who sits with your knees to your chest and your chin propped as you parse through the cadence of everyone you are now expected to get to know.

“Terminal, it’s your turn to take it from here. Whatever they need, you get it. Got it?”

“Y-Yes, de Fontaine.” Your eyes squeeze tightly as you response, desperately believing that you don’t sound pathetic as you address her.

“Well, with that in mind. All of you play nice with each other! I have six interviews this week to try and deal with yet another one of your messes.” Valentina had abandoned any false pretenses of amicability, and her clicking heels manage to reach the microphone as she heads for the door.

“We’ll get you more information when they become active again, in the meantime. Do something that seems at least a little heroic, hm?”

When the door closes, you’re left with the crackle of your speakers and the deafening silence of their rigidity. They’re about as happy as you expected them to be, which is absolutely none at all.

This was going to be torture of the worst kind.

[glasskey]

Season 6 Chaos Theory Sample Mix

So we’ve finally received some S6 tasters in the form of trailers and press releases and having read and seen these I feel like a good old fashioned rant is in order. I’ll stick mostly to the Nick, June and Luke thing, because well that’s what most of you came for. Be warned, this will be absolutely brutal. If you haven’t seen the press releases or read The Testaments then just note there are spoilers in here. The first thing I want people to remember is that while the writers of this show have done a great job of setting up the transition to The Testaments, but in my time I have seen writers take a LOT of license with their source material. In this particular case, the show has been consulting closely with the author so that might lend some hope to the fact that it’s been respected. Atwood’s been a little intentionally obscure in parts of both texts, and it’s given the writers the ability to get creative. The Testaments DOES make mention of Nick and June (we CAN assume this regardless of the lack of names, as they’re referred to as the actual parents of baby Nicole), and one passage in particular where Elijah says to Daisy about her parents “They’re still alive. Or they were yesterday”. So either Elijah saw them both the day before TOGETHER, or he’s been running back and forth over the border. However, later on Nick’s referred to as maybe still being in Gilead, so yeah confusing. Apparently both of Daisy’s parents are “lucky to be alive” in The Testaments so I’m going to go out on a limb and say Nick escapes by the skin of his teeth. Having said that I didn’t like that sneaky “our baby” shit Luke pulled at the end of last season and writers may try to use it as some kind of weird assed loophole.

The end note in The Testaments does include him so it would be a huge violation to the actual text to kill him off. It all seems out of step with all the other elements that have been carefully laid out true to text as well. It IS mentioned in The Handmaids Tale that Nick was associated with Mayday and the trailers for previous seasons included him in the whole “we are Mayday” section, so I’m disappointed to see that show runners / writers SEEM to have back tracked here. Just be mindful that from day one we’ve seen Mayday agents, drivers and guards die; the manifestations of Nick in his many forms through the seasons. Characters often end up embodying the fates that they warn others of; Beth warned him that involving himself with a handmaid was a good way to end up on the wall (and we all know what happened to Beth). Nick told June TWICE that she could and WOULD die in Gilead. So maybe a few chants in the prayer circle for our young commander couldn’t hurt. Lets be crystal clear ALL of this is just speculation because well, as of yet just like everyone else, I haven't seen a single episode. The whole “shadow of death” phrase accompanied with a shot of Nick gives pause for thought. He’s been kicking around Gilead as the resident angel of Death for some time and make no mistake this particular shot was included to symbolize the threat of death, in particular to the rebellion. Once again, disappointing.

The press releases have stated that Blaine betrays June at some point this season but I have to say in terms of viewer acceptance, this is risky. It’s a HUGE vault to take from a character with moral grain with a deep emotional connection to the protagonist; to one that’s decided to throw all in against her, with a fascist regime he’s hated serving. These types of character transitions if not delivered properly are deadly to any sort of audience connection. If they don’t believe they are POSSIBLE, then their disbelief spreads to ALL of the surrounding characters and the entire storyline by default. If they want to 180 this character from “a good man in Gilead” to Voldemort, they currently lack the goods with which to back it up, and they don’t have much time to construct them. Seems like a fairly swift deconstruction of a character, from one who ran to June’s bedside and punched Lawrence in a room full of commanders, to one that would actually betray her. With a press release citing that without the love goggles, June now sees Nick for who he is and what he’s capable of, audiences NEED to understand that in the context of any love story, it’s hard, if not impossible to come back from that. After show runners have almost guaranteed the entire obliteration of his character in her eyes, their relationship may end up as nothing but a smoking wreck. One can only hope that love does truly keep no record of wrongs.

As always watch for character placement on screen, Blaine’s usually positioned to her right side to indicate worship, succession and the sharing of power. When he starts shifting, you’ll know the dynamics are starting to change. Minghella cited his relationship with Rose as a factor in his waning patience with June, and as somewhat of an innocent I can see her being sacrificed, to incite Blaine’s rage in the context of the story line. But the idea that he’d somehow be transformed into a cold dead eyed monster defies belief. Is this the SAME Blaine that smuggled letters? That cried over a dead handmaid? That brought her Fred? That ran to her bedside? Too often audiences simply swallow content they’re fed without question, well this season I’ll be expecting some plausible explanations. I have to wonder about the timing of daddy dearest showing up IMMEDIATLEY after Blaine’s relationship fell apart with Rose. No doubt Rose would have told him that it was Osborne who came between them and daddy may have decided to sever the two once and for all. It is true that Nick’s impressionable and I can see Wharton being cast as the evil presence who tries to break apart the two lovers by exploiting Nick’s desire for guidance. As Blaine once said “some men need to be led.” June is depicted in a red gown striding amongst an army of handmaids, the implication here being that she too is a commander and as such this season will see Nick and June go head to head, with Wharton at the leash. Will Gilead succeed in breaking them apart? Apparently Tuello ends up with only Lawrence as his ally which kind of pisses me off that he’s being rewarded with a redemption arc of kinds while Nick gets cast into the cold. We’ll have to wait and see but that WOULD be a very big fuck you very much, for all the struggles he’s endured to remain moralistically intact in the Hell hole of Lawrence’s making.

Now way, way, way up the back of The Testaments is mention of a handful of plots by commanders to off a bunch of the elite commanders that triggers the purges, and it looks like that’s where we’re going this season. I do think that a sizeable amount of handmaid’s will pay with their lives as a consequence. No revolution comes without sacrifice, it’s just historical fact so get ready for the carnage. It appears they’ve decided to paint Luke as a hero and Nick as a villain this season very possibly to show their ultimate true faces. I can't help but wonder how fair these journeys comparatively EVER were. If Nick was always doomed to fall by spending literally YEARS in the dark prison of Gilead, then how easy is it for Luke to shine having spent all of his time on the couch in a free country? To quote June herself “Gilead turns you into a bit of a cunt.” How fair has this comparison EVER been when one came from poverty and the other lived a comfortable life? While Nick has been damned for his choice to join the SOJ, the choices that Luke’s life initially afforded him, certainly made all the difference. I do wonder how fair it is to paint the vulnerable, targeted poor as ultimately villainous? Now Blaine lives in a large house surrounded by all the comforts that Gilead has ensnared him with, if he throws his lot in with Mayday, he burns his whole life down. In comparison the now transient Luke has literally nothing to lose and everything to gain by joining the Rebellion. Is the destruction of Nick nothing more than a demonstration of the corruptive society he has lived in for so long? By painting him as a villain are we acknowledging his trauma or even the rigged game that spawned him? If their plans are to send her back into the arms of her, up until very recently, sheltered and complacent hubby, I’ll want answers. Revolution can be a comparatively easy act when you don’t live under a regime for over a decade, when the fist doesn’t tighten constantly or corrupt you in increments. To Luke it would seem natural to kick against it, unfortunately for Nick he’s been “groomed” since day one with the final stranglehold of a Gilead wife and kiddy to keep him in line.

After seasons of representing Luke as a homebody who practically had to be extricated from his house in the burbs, even after someone ran over his wife right in front of it, they’ve now decided that Luke has actually been full of gun toting moxy all along. Yep, he’s suddenly going to run rampant all over Gilead with hand grenades and a machine gun….ridiculous. Last season we saw him go from “lets file paperwork” to Mr gimme a gun, in the space of ONE SINGLE episode, simply because Serena gave him some shit about Nick. Had the guy stayed in Canada and rallied with Tuello, I would have believed his character arc, but THIS is a bridge too far. I would have absolutely bought Luke as a Mayday strategist, neck deep in the paperwork he thrives on. I have to say, I am not loving this journey for him at all.

I’ve never before experienced a show try to persistently foist a character on audiences as they have done Luke. Most of the audience didn’t like him, the feedback on social media was pretty loud and the shows response seems to have been to simply include more content with the hopes that sooner or later audiences would relent and embrace him with open arms. Despite their best efforts, to quote the classic “Mean Girls”; “Fetch just isn’t going to happen.” and I don’t think it ever has. To be honest they not only haven’t been able to really endear Luke to the majority of fans, but they’ve had to work flat out over the last season to even remotely level the scores between these two men, basically by marrying Nick off and knocking up his wife. Comparative to Nick and June’s fiery romance, moments of intimacy between Luke and June felt like oatmeal through a feeding tube. Perhaps there’s a reason for this, maybe it’s intentional, like Miller said; June sees their relationship as “work”. Much in the same way they’ve intentionally built Nick and June to be far more romantic in nature, but as we keep being told again and again; it’s not exactly practical. At this point in the journey I don't know how many people are too concerned with practicalities; they've been dangling a bucket of candy in front the audience for seasons now, so the kiddies can hardly be blamed for wanting to stuff their faces.

I guess Nick’s character annihilation would make sense plot wise, because well, Luke’s so fucking boring that SOMETHING had to be done to sabotage Nick’s appeal. Ultimately their solution has been to virtually turn Luke into Nick with Luke sporting Nicks trademark black coats, ala season 1, (like we wouldn’t notice) and roiding him up with a gun and a few hand grenades. Similarly Nicks now in New Bethlehem in some cushy digs with a wife and kiddy on the way. But to quote Atwood’s Handmaid’s Tale itself: “They cannot be exchanged, one for the other. They cannot replace each other. Nick for Luke, Luke for Nick.” June wasn't going for it then, and I'm not either.

There’s also the small matter of June’s right to choose. Death or betrayal in a love triangle is actually a violation of the element of choice by our protagonist. It reeks of sabotage. These outcomes subvert any ability by the protagonist to actually CHOOSE and instead determines, at least in part, the outcome for her. Unimpressed. It also calls into question writer intent. What exactly is the message here after 5 seasons of him “trying to stay out of trouble” and then finally growing the spine to stand up to Gilead? Is it to keep your head down and shut up while the fascist regime takes hold? If he betrays her, what’s the lesson here? Never trust anyone? Love is a lie? Evil triumphs in the human spirit? Redemption is impossible? Are audiences to be dragged through 5 and half seasons of heartbreak, just to have their hearts crushed once again? It seems particularly heartless to rope audiences fully back into this “Nick and June” love triangle only to cut it off at the knees. The fact that they’re resurrecting it, simply to butcher it completely speaks to a whole new level of cruelty. It’s all looking a bit Star Wars with Nick as the young Vader, right down to shots where he seems to emanate a red glow (please see below) to symbolize danger. But I do wonder, have they honestly waited until now to visit upon audiences a full demonstration of Gilead’s corruptive influences?

The press releases seem to have made a point several times of mentioning that he was a commander, while that’s true I do wonder how a “why thanks but no thanks” would have gone down when it was originally presented to him. There’s no debating that Nick signed up in the beginning for SOJ, but scripts showed that he was vulnerable, targeted and quickly disgusted by its machinations. So if this ENTIRE plot was designed to be a tragic cautionary tale of a lambs slaughter at the hands of a regime, I’ll be horrified at the lengths to which they’ve drawn it out. These maneuverings all seem so incredibly cruel that an audience could not be blamed for switching off and never coming back for any other trips on the long, slow pain train spin offs. Why would they? The pain of attaching to beloved characters only to have them utterly decimated is not something viewers tend to wish to revisit. Last seasons are tricky, there’s a lot of expectation wrapped up in them as writers attempt to bookend characters and yet leave their journeys open for a possible revisit. A good last episode on a good last season is an even rarer thing, and if the endings not done right, audiences are loathe to even start the journey. A bad last episode is like poison, and the thing that content creators don’t seem to understand is that and audiences don’t actually NEED an amazing battle with explosions and 3 separate endings….they just need good. An ending that can live beyond itself, just an act of redemption, throw in a hint of tomorrow and you’re all good. Seriously, it’s all we want.

GOT had a notorious fiery trash bag of a last episode and it’s not the only one. Films now run 3 hours long and it seems that somewhere along the way the editor either fell asleep or just went home. In the effort to always be better, bigger, louder and larger, creators will often shoot too high or go too obscure. Go too big and you can fall really hard, go too small and it can feel unfinished, do whatever you want despite audience feedback and they will fucking hate you and avoid any of your future offerings. With the Testaments in play that last one is a particularly bad idea, certainly writer integrity is important but audience engagement is key. It’s interesting to think of Nick and June, at the end of the day, being reduced to dollars and cents. Their audience participation has simply become so large that an unhappy ending between the two will literally cost the studio and streaming services a gazillion dollarinos.

It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen a couple dictate the direction of a series, determine its success or failure and consequently, the size of a studios profits. It's not unusual to see spinoffs and seasons get cancelled because a deep character connection has been dissolved and the audience has followed suit. I hate to think of one single plot twist poisoning the well of a beautiful and epic 5 season long love story. After watching seasons of painful goodbyes I really don’t have the stomach for another one and I grow weary of season finales that leave audiences hollow and despondent like a depressing 1970’s movie. It's worth keeping in mind that just maybe these show runners and writers NEVER anticipated the type of enthusiasm that they received for the connection between these two characters and they've consequently had to roll with it. Seasons later we have a PR machine cranking overtime, they drop a bit of controversy about this love triangle and sure enough everyone takes the bait. Let's face it, people have lost their ever lovin minds and the folks at PR central must be LOVING it. Nick and June’s romance all seems to have been a bit of a mish mash of Casablanca and Romeo and Juliet from the get go, and both of those ended up in a whole big bunch of fuck you to any hope of real happiness. Casablanca holds its place after 80 years as one of the most timeless tales of love and sacrifice for the greater good, and if these two see any sort of conclusion that doesn’t involve a blade or noose, I suspect that’s what they might be going for here. The fact that it was released around the time of the German invasion shouldn’t be lost on audiences either. It had a lot to say about sacrifice and courage in the face of adversity during war, specifically fascism. Regardless of the life lessons that writers and show runners are attempting to teach, after 6 seasons of drawn out heartbreak, this one is going to feel really, really unkind.

To be brutally honest I’d prefer to watch Blaine die serving Mayday than see him betray June and have their love corrupted. After all the sacrifices he’s made, I’m horrified they couldn’t even afford him that small dignity, and I fucking swear if I have to watch him turn to poison and then die in the dirt, I will burn my TV (season 3 of Severance be damned). Then again, if this is all just a set up for the Battle Royale for his soul, I’ll be absolutely gagging to see June fight for it tooth and nail.

[ao3cassandraic]

The depeopleization of *Units in the Murderbot trailer

Just some things that caught my eye as I watched.

The amount of literal and metaphorical dehumanization -- ugh, bad word; Murderbot isn't and doesn't want to be human, so let's go with "depeopleization" -- of bots in a short li'l trailer is... whew. It's a whole damn thing. If you didn't feel as uncomfortable as the Preservation crew did watching the corpos market their SecUnits not with spec sheets (much less résumés) but by putting the most expensive model on blatantly posed display... I'm not sure I know you, because wow, that's absolutely hideous. The books aren't subtle about Murderbot's story being a sci-fied enslavement narrative, but absolutely zero punches pulled in that scene.

(It reconciles me, a tiny bit, to Murderbot being acted by a white person. I still don't love that! But I can acknowledge there's some symbolic utility to it. Thing is, there would be symbolic utility the other way too; it'd just be different.)

While Murderbot itself waves off the corpos' scorn of it as an older and less-capable (by their lights) model, I can't. That, too, is a blatant denial of inherent worth and individuality. (Also I have every confidence that Murderbot could give that new model a fair fight. Experience counts for something, not that the corpos care. So they're being ageist, too! If Martha Wells was using that moment to take a shot at the publishers that wrote her off, more power to her.)

Obviously SecUnit armor is also designed to look deliberately not-human, even perhaps with an ableist touch. Murderbot's visor makes it look as though it has only one eye, and what it wears as it's guarding the door of the crew base is tilted toward what reads to me as a cliché TV robot. The newer SecUnit is entirely faceless (in a very 2020s-riot-cop sort of way, which was doubtless fully intentional).

I frankly got angry (Watsonianly, not Doylistly; I'm not mad at the trailer or those who made it) at the "it can't hear us!" bit. Personal history as a bullied child. I was walking back to school from a fourth-grade field trip, two of my bullies talking shit about me right behind me. One of them finally noticed I was there, shut up, and nudged or poked or kicked the other, who just said disdainfully and in full consciousness of the lie, "she can't hear us." Yeah, so that completely depeopleized bit in the trailer -- again, possibly with a touch of ableism to it -- was perfectly executed, and that's all I'm going to say about that.

And then we get to the Sanctuary Moon clip, in which the soap-opera conflict revolves around the Captain possibly having slept with "that bot," also a completely depeopleizing (though perfectly soapy, doubtless paralleling "that bitch") phraseology. (For what it's worth, I fully believe the Captain slept with that bot. John Cho's face, y'all!)

What's fascinating about that clip is that the crew's reactions of disgust and dismay are ambiguous. Possibly sleeping with a bot is viewed as inherently gross. Possibly it's something about that specific bot. Possibly it's something to do with how humans gender bots in soap operas (which we know nothing about even from the books, because Murderbot doesn't give a crap about gender or sexuality). Given that Sanctuary Moon is a soap opera, quite possibly there's history specific to the Captain, the bot, or both. We don't know! But what's clever about that is that it forces us to allow the possibility that once again it's bot depeopleization.

Cinnamon-roll Ratthi (perfectly cast) gets himself in a perfectly Ratthiesque muddle trying to work out how to be respectful to Murderbot. Using a person's self-chosen monicker is indeed respectful in almost all circumstances! But as Murderbot itself says about its name, "That's private." So Ratthi's attempt falls a bit short, but I'll give him some love for trying.

If you haven't seen it yet, do find the non-trailer clip going 'round of Gurathin opening a conversation with Murderbot. (If you check the #murderbot tag, you should find it.) This reads to me as Gurathin, perhaps prompted by Ratthi's behavior (the chronology here isn't clear), deliberately trying to assert to Murderbot that it is, in fact, a person. Gurathin does this by requesting that Murderbot do what people routinely do when they talk to one another: bare their faces.

Tactless? Yeah, arguably, though again it's not clear how much Gurathin knows about Murderbot's shyness at that point. But I get what he -- and the show -- are driving for.

[softantlers]

one of the things i'm always going to be bummed about with regard to adult timeline lottie is the way she was turned into this neoliberal wellness guru when we literally could have it ALL. now i understand that there probably isn't even room for this kind of representation in mainstream television bc writers are cowards & also that there's a sort of beauty in what they did put forward but hear me out--

i wanted lottie to have been institutionalized and to have been PISSED about it. i wanted her to have defected from society at large & reached for all the post-capitalism & anarchist social positions she could. i wanted her to have read "family abolition" by me o'brien and deeply fucked with it. i wanted her to be living off the grid in an actual intentional community--not the granola shit we saw--being fucking dirty and tending to the land and living on a commune amassed of not-up-to-code cabins and rigged out RVs. i want lottie INTEGRATED, not just a leader. i want her talking schizophrenics off ledges and helping the local dykes reconcile a breakup. i want lottie deeply invested in understanding how the outside world marginalizes people of color, people with disabilities, queer and trans people, etc. & i want her to be PISSED about it.

when the yellowjackets come, i want it to feel like a true invasion. i want them to feel absolutely dysphoric about their put together made up lives as they look around them. i want them to feel like invaders-- of modernity, of capitalism, even if they don't have the words for it. i want natalie to be calling bullshit, to be hissing at lottie about whether her fucking cronies know she's a rich girl & for lottie to admit--venomous--that she's been disowned and off the grid for years. i want natalie to be so fucking angry about that because here she's been trying her best, in and out of rehab, to live in the real world & here's lottie--who has everything, all the money, all the everything at her disposal--rejecting that world natalie has tried so hard to be apart of. i want them to finally fuck about the fact that lottie was right when she said neither of them have homes.

shit, i want taissa to learn the power of leadership in community & to realize that her ambitions toward being a senator were misled & that real change isn't solely dependent on votes and campaign strategies but how you can actualize better living in your immediate community right now. i want van to talk to some chronically ill dykes and to realize that maybe she doesn't actually have to die alone like she thought she did. i want her to tell tai she's staying.

fuuuuck, i want shauna and lottie to have it out. i want lottie to call shauna's family a fraud & to laugh at how shauna thought she was different & superior for her white picket fence and for shauna to literally be about to beat the shit out of her again, only for lottie to shove her to the ground and hiss that she's not the girl she was back in the fucking woods.

i want misty to learn the power of being in community without transaction & manipulation and i want her to become invested in staying because this is the first time she hasn't had to beg and plead for people to take a genuine interest in her. this is the first time people haven't considered her disposable & not worthy of their attention.

and i want this to be such a fucking insidious thing as all of the yellowjackets become wrapped up in "is this real?" as psychosis looms as a backdrop. could this be real? could all the pain and everything that has kept them so ragged since the wilderness, could this be the solution?

and when it all comes apart and the commune gets disbanded, i want it to feel like rescue. i want them to be kicking and screaming when the authorities force them back into their nuclear families (or total isolation), back into their hustle for money and jobs, back into the expectation of a society that will never understand this kind of trauma. i want them to be devastated that they were saved.

i want them to feel the violence of going back to their lives like a plane crash.

[mneiai]

okay sorry another ikepri rant

(Spoilers for only Season 1 routes)

So I've done a bunch of routes now and there's some stuff that, throughout all of them, really drives me up a wall.

I'm sure other people have addressed these a bunch and probably in better ways, but I need to get them off my chest. Prefacing this by saying I haven't done the Sariel route, yet, and maybe his magically smooths out all the issues, idk.

Below the cut is my rants about Belle being a secret, Clause 99 existing, and Leon vs Chevalier.

The Belle thing:

Okay, but in WHAT WORLD would a tiny landlocked country EVER want people ANYWHERE to know that their king is dead and they have no idea who the next one will be for a month?

So WHY is the MC being a "secret Belle" such an issue? They should have a system in place already to hide Belles! Every single Belle should have been secret until she'd chosen the next king!

Hell, they should just have random commoner women come into the palace and hang with the princes all the time so no one knows which one will ACTUALLY be the Belle.

I get that this was the way they chose to have the MC interacting with the princes because they couldn't be bothered giving them more original storylines and stuff, but they could have made it make some sense. I don't even have a problem with the ridiculous fantasy aspects of Belles even being a thing, it's that they seem to have made no real allowances for them in the culture and practices of the palace!

Clause 99:

So this ONE GUY fucks up and they have to make a (horribly written holy shit it's like they wanted it to be broken) whole ass new clause in what is presumably a pretty ancient contract that makes no sense whatsoever. Because this wasn't even the first time a Belle chose someone that ended up being a shit king! Yet the clause is brand new?

Firstly, the only reason the last king's relationship with his Belle was a problem was because OTHER PEOPLE made it so, especially considering he can have multiple wives and that children born out of wedlock are still considered equal royals. Like the dude could rape a maid and still make the son a prince! What does it matter if his first wife is a commoner? It's not like he gets to choose his heir!

Secondly, what if Belle ended up being a great asset to the kingdom? An awesome aide, or gifted at diplomacy, or who knows what else? You're just going to kick her to the curb still?

Nevermind what happens if she ends up with a prince who doesn't become king and how awkward that makes anything family related.

And, of course, all of these things are sort of shown in game as it's REALLY FUCKING EASY for the king to break that clause to the point it clearly only exists as a bullshit drama device.

It's not even actually solving the issue--a king could just spend his whole life lovesick and never have sex with anyone after being forcibly separated or something. The real Clause 99 should have been something like 'The King must first marry and have a child with a noblewoman before he can have an official relationship with Belle" or you know something that would force the King to have a kid like Chevalier because he'd want to marry his Belle so badly.

(Also, how the hell is Sariel always acting surprised that the MC didn't read the whole contract? He gave her next to no time in a high stress environment to sign it! It would have literally taken her the entire night to read it!)

(And, listen, I get that Jin has some huge fucking hangups about it, but all him koolaid man'ing his way into other people's relationships makes me do is dislike him more, especially since really, if anything, HE should be more in favor of ways to compromise on the king and Belle relationship, not lording over a commoner woman for daring to love a king! Also, what a total dickbag for not making sure all of his brothers knew about it beforehand!)

Leon vs Chevalier:

I have a TON of issues with these two being setup as rivals.

Chevalier is made impossibly perfect in his and related routes to the point where only someone like Gilbert is actually his match. Even though Leon is more personable, more charismatic, almost equally good at fighting, surprisingly clever, and also NOT HATED BY MOST OF THE COUNTRY AND EVERY CITIZEN OF THEIR LARGEST NEIGHBOR, somehow he's always just this background character in seemingly any route that makes Chevalier the king.

Leon actually has the significantly better backstory (like holy shit most tragic backstory award no matter what anyone else comes out with, the guy didn't even have a NAME) and personality for becoming a king and it's not like Chev would abandon the kingdom just because of it. Making Leon king means he would actually consider what Chevalier said and suggested and make compromises when necessary, something Chevalier is largely incapable of doing outside of his route, where he's softened.

And, finally, the biggest one...WHY THE FUCK ARE THEIR PHILOSOPHIES TREATED AS EQUAL? It's always like 'oh, yeah, Leon's is good, but Chevalier's is equally reasonable' and shit. Leon's philosophy is literally 'I want everyone to have good lives' and Chevalier's, outside of his own route, is literally 'I want to turn our peaceful kingdom into a militarized imperialistic force that will violently sweep across and oppress the whole continent.' HOW ARE THESE EQUAL? I know Cybird writers jack off to monarchies and shit, but c'mon.

(Also what the FUCK is up with Clavis thinking Leon would let a bunch of refugees be slaughtered just because it might make things diplomatically difficult?? the guy literally gives spies who betray him second chances lmao)

[11queensupreme11]

How would Cu Chulainn feel about pjo demigods?

cú chulainn seeing how pjo demigods live: damn, your lives suck ASS 🤮

no seriously LMAO 😭😭😭😭😭😭

a lot of the greek demigods (the modern ones especially) either come from broken homes, poor single-parents, abusive parents, or just straight up HOMELESS and stay in camp year-round, etc.

some don't even KNOW that their kids are demigods so they're completely clueless about that part of their life; they might get frustrated by their kids adhd and dyslexia, the fact that they keep getting kicked out of school, getting into legal trouble (the mist made it look like they attacked someone when it was actually a monster trying to kill them, etc). it honestly just seems so frustrating for those poor demigods to deal with, especially during wartimes so imagine being depressed cuz you have half-siblings that defected or you're afraid that u and ur loved ones might die in the war, and you got a clueless parent being all "why are you moping all the time? 🤨 get ur ass back in school and get those grades up!" 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

i haven't found much yet about cú chulainn's childhood in the myths and how he was raised before he.... you know, started terrorizing ppl, but his mother, deichtine, was a princess. he's the nephew of conchobar mac nessa, king of ulster. so he was part of the ROYAL family. and that's just the mortal side. then he drank lugh's blood (again, my fic only) and became a demigod, and lugh is a supreme god of the celtic pantheon and the leader of the tuatha dé danann. when cú chulainn got adopted and blessed by him, he became part of that royal family too.

not only that, but back in ancient times people knew the gods were real so they absolutely knew that cú chulainn was a demigod and treated him as such (even though he was crazy and sucked ass 💀). and then there's the pjo demigods, constantly treated like shit, sometimes even by their own mortal families. they're seen as criminals, liars, troubled kids, stupid kids, kids beyond help, disappointments, mentally disturbed, weirdos who see things that don't exist, etc.

pjo demigods are treated like shit from both sides too, from the mortal side AND the godly side. though the latter may depend on who their godly parents are, but if PERCY JACKSON, poseidon's most favorite child ever, is still being treated like a toy soldier by the gods then what sort of hope do the other kids have? 💀 percy is literally the one kid that is so purely loved by her godly parent and yet her life still sucks. poseidon's love isn't enough to protect her from a hero's fate; in fact, it's what DOOMED her 💔 because percy, like all greek demigods, are destined to live and die as heroes, a greek tragedy just like all the others before them 😭💔💔💔💔

those poor kids are tools for the gods. pjo gods cannot act freely, so they use their children to do things that they can't. cú chulainn NEVER has to worry about that. yes, he had a few gods meddle in his life (morrigan being one), but they definitely aren't as bad as the way the pjo gods meddle. there's no oppressive system in the ror verse that requires the gods to use demigods to do their bidding. cú chulainn was free to live his life as he wishes; he is not shackled the same way pjo demigods are and his gods aren't shackled the way pjo gods are either.

he didn't have to live his life being told "you're never gonna make it to adulthood because ur a demigod and we always die as a tragic hero because that's the fate we've been given 🤗", was never used as a toy soldier, he has freedom. no suicide quests, no prophecies, no divine intervention constantly uprooting his life for the worse, there were wars and battles, but those were mortal ones that he willingly joined, not godly ones that the gods made him fight in.

pjo demigods' lives just genuinely SUCK. they have tragedy in their veins that they can never remove and the way their world works is just so heavily built against them 💔

cú chulainn is going to be so very very VERY grateful that he was not born as a demigod in that universe 💀💀💀💀💀 he's gonna gently grab percy by the shoulders, give her a good shake, and tell her very seriously, "your life is miserable 😐 (marry me and i'll give you a better one 💖)"

also, seeing how they live would be an eye-opener because a lot of stuff about percy makes SOOOO much sense to him now. no wonder she seemed aghast as to why he lives so selfishly, why he chooses to fight in the apocalypse despite it meaning he'd fight for the destruction of humanity should he win.

percy grew up amongst demigods who lived tragic lives but died heroic fates, she even WITNESSED it herself. the idea of a demigod consciously choosing to destroy humanity and being fully aware of his actions is so unlike what she's used to. luke at least had a good and noble reason for his revolution and he killed himself in the end to stop kronos, ethan's betrayal was understandable and just and he tried to stop kronos and died for it, but cú chulainn lives selfishly without a care for other people's lives and she's not used to that from a demigod.

(omg i rambled too much but i cannot wait to write more about them ashahfvh bahsgdhb i'm loving the whole "hero vs warrior" thing between them too much sorry guys! 💖💖💖)

[sabreclaws]

Okay, here's what I'm reading tonight. I love miniseries. 4 issues is the perfect, approachable number of issues.

Specifically, this is the Sabretooth (1993) mini.

Victor looking fabulous, as always.

I am bemused by Victor's choice of home. Ngl, the idea of him somehow meeting the neighbors in this area and they just call him "Mister Creed" is kind of funny to me.

At least it's pretty. If a tad on the dramatic side.

Plus, this is the series that has Birdy in it. Who Victor apparently pays to do ... something that will be explained in due time?

(She should meet Cable.)

Again, I'm reading this for previous writer takes on the behind-the-scenes life of Victor Creed. In this iteration, apparently he's definitely a well-paid assassin.

Damn, Victor. Been practicing your high kicks? (Did I already mention that the art is a tad dramatic?)

Unapologetic spoilers lie ahead

Apparently Victor is paying Birdy for all sorts of things, including the already-seen bodyguard services, therapeutic massages...

... and digging around inside his head ...

... but he does not seem to be particularly respectful. Shall we say.

Including a muzzled and manacled child version of Victor dug up from his memories.

Again, Victor is not being nice to Birdy here. Punches her, etc.

Victor, I have some series questions about your decor.

But the way he treats Birdy might have something to do with the fact she immediately double-crosses him. While dressed in a towel and nothing else.

I'm not sure if this was the first time the comics went into Victor's childhood trauma, but this sure is a doozy of a take on it, regardless. Pretty sure that's a naked child in a pool of his own filth.

Then there's a little torture, some medical horror, a dramatic asshole who calls himself Tribune...

Oh, the drama.

So they turn Victor loose, and he immediately heads back to his house, where for some reason Birdy didn't hightail it the instant Victor was abducted. I am seriously questioning the writing in this mini.

So he catches her ... and then doesn't kill her. Because that would be bad for whatever the writer has planned and not for any reason I can discern from the plot. I am seriously unimpressed with this writer so far.

We do get a bit more of the worst of Victor's backstory though.

And he tracks down Mystique, which isn't even that interesting, and she says...

oh, the intrigue

oh they wouldn't....

Damn it. They would.

Yes, yes, yes, enjoy your banter boys, because Mystique is about to ruin Victor's day

Aaaaand then they go on a double-date

And apparently this is a tie-required establishment and they whipped out one for Victor to put on over the catsuit? I hate this.

Anyway, there's a bunch of past stuff.

And then Mystique drops the big bombshell.

You know what? Having seen this horror show of a comic, I am now completely unsurprised that this is what created Graydon Creed.

Anyway, Victor goes to track him down.

If I haven't already shown you enough for you to get the idea, trust me that the dialogue in this is atrocious and laughable. I'm at my image limit, or I would should you the panel, but "Sabretooth will never get past a combined battle team of your hungry bankers!" is just ... so bad.

lol, okay, except for this line

And then Birdy pulls up some of Graydon's memories too.

Do you ... just keep making up words? That are stupid? Mr. Writer, have you ever met a bond trader? I mean, sure, this was before the Internet really took off, but that is not a profession I would ever call "feral." And Mystique? Really?? That was the best occupation you could come up with?? Seriously??

And then Birdie conveniently steps too close and Graydon kills her, at which point ... Victor just lets him go? Because this is a man (as written in this book) that would give a shit about blood kin?

So in conclusion:

I am so confused by this entire comic.

Fairly important creation or reinforcement of Victor's terrible childhood.

The writing is bad.

From everything I had heard about Birdy and Victor's relationship in fandom, I had expected something a little ... sweeter? Instead I got bad writing and boss-on-employee violence. (But it definitely explains that one page in Sabretooth (2022).

Actually, reading this comic somehow makes Sabretooth (2022) and Sabretooth & the Exiles have more context.

Did I mention the writing is bad?

I don't just mean the dialogue, although that is atrocious. I mean that cause-and-effect were unbelievable, people knew details they shouldn't be able to know, people make decisions that made no sense for them because the writer needed them to be in a particular place to hold up his house of cards of a plot.

Also, lots of girls lounge around suggestively with very little clothing on. I'm not impressed.

Graydon Creed gets to live (boo).

Victor is a bastard from start to finish (but a very pretty one).

Logan was used as a convenient plot device and then instantly ignored.

Same for Mystique.

I preferred Sabretooth: Mary Shelley Overdrive (2002) about 10 times more than this.

Now, if you like this? Power to you, you do you, enjoy it. But I do not.

[bugwolfsstuff]

@meepmoopmaap

I've thought more about the War prize Luke AU!!!

Okay so since its way less angstier than War prize Connor AU, its gonna be a forced proximity Enemies to friends to lovers sort of deal.

Somehow Luke survives TLO, currently the reasoning I've thought of is 'the curse was tied to Kronos not Luke' is it stupid? yes but I haven't thought of anything else.

Zeus basically goes 'in line with our old traditions, my daughter gets the traitor as her spoils of war' and hands Luke over to Thalia in front of everyone.

(it is NOT in line with traditions, if it was everyone else would be getting their own spoils but no one is telling that to Zeus after Percy rejected immortality and told the gods to pay child support)

Of course SO many people are pissed by this. Camp finds it fucking mad because wow slavery and damn Luke looks good in chains (/j for that last part), Hermes is upset, the other gods think he's not being punished enough for what he did, Thalia is pissed because she doesn't want her 'ex' back, especially not as a prize, Luke is pissed at first because he wanted to die peacefully and not be treated like an object by the gods and Artemis is upset because she loses her lieutenant.

Zeus is a sort of good dad in this AU (just not to Hermes clearly) because i hate bad dad Zeus. I say sort of because to him and ancient Greek standards he's spoiling his daughter he does somewhat care for her here. But also it is a power play to enslave the leader of the rebellion and hand him over to what is basically a princess of Olympus.

Artemis has to kick Thalia out of the hunt because she cant have Thalia carting around a male with her hunters (maybe a joke scene where she suggests Thalia joins the Amazons?) This pisses Thalia off EVEN more. She either stays at camp or just drags Luke around the mortal world and finds a house (Luke is still pissed, hes basically a very stubborn dog)

Luke and Thalia slowly warm up to each other again over time, at first she's a little shit about the power dynamic and the fact that Luke is in chains. Luke does not appreciate it.

Hermes of course is begging to literally anyone to bring his son back. but he probably wont do anything drastic. Maybe I'll even allow him to have a bit of closure at some point but Luke does not want to go with him at all, he at least likes Thalia a bit, he doesnt like Hermes at all.

and that is all I've thought of and I cant write it rn cause its midnight and I have something to do tommorow. I'll figure out or change things tommorow

[mackjlee9]

kay i'll take advantage of the hyperfixation bc i'm hyperfixated too 😋 this one is quite angsty? Depends on how you wanna do the end bc i'll leave it up to you

u see how in re6 chris asks leon if he will protect ada despite all the damage she did and he says yeah he is? What if instead of chris asking is leon's long term boyfriend since raccoon city?

like reader kinda knows he's still not over ada bc let's say reader went with him to rescue ashley in re4 and well, ada was there and shit.

so with that reader this time KNOWS leon is till not over ada no matter how much time has passed and he feels kinda betrayed bc they had a full ass relationship since raccoon city and it's been YEARS.

ending up to you ofc depending on how interested u are on writing this lmao. bye byee 💖

Ehe- I tried lol

Leon Kennedy x Male!Reader [Angst]

Maybe spoilers if you haven't played/watched re6?

Masterlist.

Resident Evil 6

(M/n) almost couldn't believe how awful this vacation was turning out to be.

From shooting the president to chasing after Ada herself, Helena could look at him with an apologetic look in her hazel eyes. (M/n) hasn't explicitly told her that he and Leon were dating, just said they were together on a vacation to relax and unwind a bit from their job on the D.S.O, but the situation had become worse than they initially thought.

And now Ada was involved? Well, when wasn't she honestly, that woman seemed to have some sort of GPS on Leon because she always showed up wherever he was, it was rather odd, still, he didn't question it, coincidences were pretty common in this kind of job.

Just look at it this way, they met with Sherry a while ago and now Chris was here too.

The three of them chased after Ada, Leon in front, and (M/n) right behind him, while Helena did her best to keep up behind them, but she was injured and she was struggling to keep up the pace. (M/n) stopped and made sure she was okay, before realizing how far Leon had run already.

"(M/n), go! I'll... I'll be fine, you go after her," she said gently pushing him away, and (M/n) hesitated for a moment, but Helena's reassuring smile helped him make up his mind.

He continued running after Leon, hearing two more foreign voices echo in the building, his eyes observing how Ada was cornered by two BSAA agents and as one of them pulled the trigger, Leon hit the gun away, immediately getting involved in a fight with the man. (M/n) arrived just in time to catch a stumbling Chris and prevent him from falling when Leon kicked his stomach hard enough to make him lose his balance.

Chris groaned from the pain, even when he was kicked over his bulletproof vest, Leon has always been known for having strong legs after all.

"Here," (M/n) mumbled while standing up and helping Chris get up from the ground, hearing him grunt a small 'thank you', all the while still being pointed by Leon with his pistol, "Leon-"

"Shut up," was all the blond said, making him swallow and nod, standing back whilst Chris and Leon started arguing. About Ada, and why she needed to die. (M/n) saw Leon clench his jaw, tightening his hold on the grip of his pistol, his cold blue eyes staring into Chris', "She's a key witness, we need her."

"A witness? She's the one that did all of this!" Chris replied, angry at what Ada had done, and probably at Leon for stopping him earlier.

"No, it wasn't her, it was Simmons, the National Security Advisor," (M/n) looked at them, hearing Helena's stumbling behind them and he helped her stand up. He wasn't sure what he was expecting the outcome of this discussion would be, but something told him he wasn't gonna like it.

"I lost all of my men because of that woman!" Chris yelled as he approached Leon, who kept a firm stance, not even blinking at his outburst.

"And I lost over seventy thousand people, including the president, because of Simmons!" He replied back with the same tone, followed by a deafening silence, the light of a chopper landing on them through the window.

Chris sighed and looked down, shaking his head before staring back at Leon, "She works for Neo-Umbrella, you know what that means?"

(M/n) watched as Leon sighed, "I do."

Glancing back and forth between the two of them, (M/n) took a deep breath, and took a step forward, slightly covering Chris with his body, he doesn't know what made him do it, maintaining eye contact with Leon's blue eyes, that remained cold and serious.

"After all she did to you, to me, to us... You're still gonna protect her, Leon?" The few seconds of silence that followed made his ears ring, the fact that he had to think about it let him know his answer.

Leon's stare hardened, seemingly unfazed by (M/n)'s words, not caring about the pain in his voice.

"I am."

(M/n) released a dry chuckle, turning around and walking away, "I was scared you were gonna say that," he mumbled as he left, finding another way to go downstairs. While he waited for them, he saw a flash of white, soon followed by Ada's body gracefully flying with her grappling hook.

They made eye contact for an instant before she ran away again, like she always did, never deviating from her mission.

He unzipped his pouch, his fingers wrapping around the velvet box, gripping it tightly as tears began gathering in his eyes. (M/n) had planned this vacation perfectly, wanting to make it special and memorable, after all, he and Leon had been in a relationship for 15 years... Or so he thought, because it seemed like he was the naive one who thought that way, when Leon was clearly smitten to Ada, after everything that happened... Everything he had done to make Leon happy...

(M/n) sighed and rubbed his temple before lowering his hand to grab his pistol, but before he could, he hit one of the pouches around his hips, his world freezing and breaking down piece by piece when he realized what he had kept safe there during this whole ordeal.

All of it had been wasted, maybe... Someone else would appreciate all his efforts?

But who? He has never loved anyone other than Leon, and it's not like he could simply move on to someone else, that wouldn't be fair to the other person.

(M/n) observed the black box in his hand, hearing the footsteps of Leon and Helena approaching his position, and he had to dry away the tears that had managed to run down his face, turning toward them with a hint of a smile, putting the box back and closing the zipper again.

"We have to keep going, let's go," he will figure out what to do when all of this is over, but right now, they had a job to do.

[markantonys]

While I still don't think the show has done enough to show why the world despises and fears male channelers (since it really should've been embedded into the world building, so far we only know that the Aes Sedai hate and fear them) and it does kinda lessen the impact of the narrative that none of the EF5 had at least an initial gut reaction to Rand being able to channel. I do wonder how they're gonna handle that topic moving forward, cause it kinda has to be addressed now that Rand is actively channeling. I could see it being expanded more deeply as Rand's madness progresses/tie it into his arc.

the show has made it ABUNDANTLY clear that Male Channelers Are Considered Bad News By All. it IS embedded into the worldbuilding. was the king saying that logain's gone mad and trying to kill him not enough for you? was the people of tar valon jeering and throwing fruit at him not enough for you? was rand and mat saying "hey if i'm a male channeler please kill me" not enough for you? was rand's terror the second he realized selene saw him channel not enough for you? was selene's act of how a normal person would react to finding out her boyfriend can channel not enough for you? was his heartbroken yet unsurprised reaction to her rejection not enough for you? was the whole backstory of a male channeler causing the apocalypse not enough for you? do you think that show-onlys are completely incapable of putting all these pieces together along with aes sedai treatment of male channelers and coming to the conclusion that male channelers are probably not very popular with most people and it's going to be very tough for rand that he is one?

literally what else should they have done that would make sense within the very small world and very early story of the first 2 seasons/3 books that they didn't already do? shown emond's fielders sitting around the dinner table talking about how much they hate and fear male channelers when none of them has ever met one and thus it's not relevant to their lives? wasted time doing a whole sidequest for rand in s2 where his abilities are discovered by some Average Citizens and they react badly? shit all over show!mat's characterization and given him a negative reaction to rand in s2 that would not make sense for his current show headspace, just for the sake of furthering rand's randpain? i'm sick of the rand stans who act like rand is the only character who matters and mat's characterization should be sacrificed just so we can go "oh poor rand uwu even his own best friend is mean to him". portraying mat in 2x06 as the sort of person who bullies and kicks his best friend while he's down would've been beneficial because......? what is so wrong with the show making the ef5 feel like mutually loyal friends instead of "rand is the best and most loyal friend in the world but the rest are little shits who abandon him as soon as the going gets tough"? seeing as in the books, mat continues to be an extremely loyal friend to rand throughout the series but most readers are too stupid to see through his unreliable narration and realize he doesn't mean it when he says that rand channeling is like him eating babies, i'm not surprised the show decided to simplify things in order to convey the true heart of mat's character (loyal and caring friend to rand) in a more obvious manner.

and i guarantee you that no show-only is going "oh, it's only aes sedai who have a problem with male channelers, everyone else thinks they're cool". that's not happening. show-onlys are not stupid, and they understand that male channelers are considered bad news by all; or maybe they haven't thought much yet about how male channelers are viewed by the average public, but in future seasons once we see rand getting shit from the average public, they are not going to be surprised or confused or go "but i thought it was only aes sedai who had a problem with them and everyone else thinks they're cool?", they're going to go "oh, well we've seen how much aes sedai hate them, so it makes sense that everyone else does too". stop. think for 2 seconds about "have i actually seen a large number* of show-onlys misunderstanding X and/or do i think it's plausible that a large number of show-onlys would be likely to misunderstand X, or do show-onlys have enough context clues to figure out X for themselves or to be unsurprised when X is expanded on and made more explicit in future seasons and i'm working myself up into a state over a non-issue?"

*there are always going to be a handful of people incapable of critical thinking who willfully misunderstand what the show is showing us, just like there are readers like that with the books, hence unless a LARGE number of general-population show-onlys are misunderstanding X, as opposed to just 20 idiots on twitter, i do not consider it a failure by the show in portraying X.

[princess-of-the-corner]

some more Magixae!Chloe crossover bait (lol)

since the original idea was that Chloe gets kidnapped adopted after she gets sent to London, I'm imagining the Red Fountain incident happening shortly after they managed to get everything sorted out. Basically it's not only that these combat trained warriors are being beat up by this rando that just walked into class, they're being beat up by an "untrained" 13-14 year old. Codatora finds it hilarious. He also adopts her. He's her uncle now. She gets to keep the kyoketsu-shoge after as a gift.

Since her adoptive family are all school staff she just like grew up wandering around the school grounds for all three schools so by the time she's 16-17 and attending Alfea she basically knows the place and people like the back of her hand (same with Cloud Tower and Red Fountain). Before she was old enough, the new students were always surprised this kid going around their school.

It seems like the [Thing] that is part of their title is a more "tangible" concept (like they're things that can have a more easily understood physical manifestation) but I did immediately think that, since they changed the bee's canon concept to Action, Chloe herself could be Fairy of Subjection. Followed by Fairy of Ballet or Fairy/Witch of Weapons because it'd be funny.

Chloe vs Riven fight in their first year of school where she both outbitches him and also kicks his ass. They're chill afterwards. Maybe even sparring buddies since they both got Parent Issues and letting out steam through combat could be something they have in common.

Bloom learns that Chloe was also in a similar situation as her since they both didn't know about All This before something happened that triggered their dormant magic (Bloom doesn't know the specifics, just that Chloe was also raised on Earth and that Griffin found her) and so she tries to befriend her because it's nice to have someone from Earth and could maybe understand her situation/feelings of confusion/etc. Chloe is at first amicable to all this, even if she's a bit distant, and maybe even helps her on the aspects of Magix that are like, big cultural differences to her because Chloe's a few years into therapy at this point and yeah, she does get it. But as soon as she sees the Signs and clocks Bloom as Protagonist Material, she very respectfully gives that group as much space as possible.

Finally: what's Chloe's Fairy Horoscope? I know it's based on birthdays but I did think it'd be amusing if it was Griffin

See I'm debating on ages because Canon ML is 13-14 and Canon Winx starts at 16, but I bump both up a little usually so I think I'll continue that.

Also Codatorta is both impressed and concerned that a kid can match his students. So are the rest of the staff. This is probably where Chloé mentions the former Hero stuff. Which has everyone like 'Hey you don't have to but you'd be REALLY good at this shit and we have training programs for it'

Chloé and Riven matching each others' energy is GREAT

Speaking of the boys though I think she'd spot the Sky-Brandon swap right away. Girl is observant and notices the pair don't act quite right for their supposed social class.

Chloé and Bloom do get along but she senses the Main Character Energy™ and is more prone to asking questions so she also connects the dots there like "HM!!" and does not want a part of this

Unfortunately her horoscope isn't a Griffin lmao. I haven't picked an exact birthdate for any of the ML cast, but I have picked general birth order throughout the school year and Chloé's would put her in the Unicorn or Nereid area

[stars1997]

Lover boy - part 4

Warnings: Smut!! NSFW!!! (18+), unprotected sex, some spanking, some choking, swearing, semi public sex, car sex

(not edited)

Pairing(s): Jeremy Swayman x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N Ullmark gets a job with the Bruins as their new photographer. They haven't seen each other in a few years, some things have changed. What happens when her brother's best friend develops a crush on her?

Authors note: The smut you guys have been waiting for! There will be more smut in the next chapter!

_____________________________________________

It didn’t take me long to get ready. I put on a pair of black leggings and a cute sweater that I got the other day. I was slipping on my shoes when there was a knock on the door.

“Coming!” I yell, standing up and making my way over to the door, opening it.

“Good evening, little lady. I’m here to take you out for a surprise.” Jeremy says in a horrible country accent.

He holds out his hand sending me a small smile. I take his hand and he led me to his truck.

_____________________________________________

“Where are we going?” I ask for the hundredth time already.

“If I told you then it wouldn’t be a surprise now would it,” he says, giving me a side eye look.

I let out a little huff in frustration. But it wasn’t until we pulled onto a street that I realized was the back way to the arena that I said, “Why are we going to the arena?” I look over at him. his mouth now turned up into a smile.

“Now that were here you can’t turn back. Buuut, I brought you here so I can teach you how to skate. If you look in the back seat, I even got you your own skates.” His smile now stretching all the way to his ears and making his eyes look like little slits.

“Oh, your such and ass for tricking me into this.” I turn around and look in the back seat to find a box with the word Bauer written on it.

I grab the box and open it to find the cutest pair of ice skates. “Jer. You didn’t have to do this. But thank you. I appreciate it a lot, thank you.” I look back over at him and send him a soft smile.

“Okay enough with that sappy talking, let go get on the ice.” He claps his hand before he shuts off his car and grabs his skates from the back as well.

_____________________________________________

Jeremy brought us both out to the player benches. He got his skates on in less than a minute, but I was struggling to tie my laces. “Need some help their peeps?” he asks, getting down on his knees to help me tie my skates before I could even respond.

He stands up and makes his way onto the ice. “What if I fall. I don’t like falling.” He just sends me a small giggle.

“Don’t worry about falling. I’ll be right here to help you. I promise.” I gave him a little look that basically told him that if he was lying, I would be kicking his ass later.

It took me a minute, but I finally got out on the ice. Jer kept up with his promise to be here to help me.

_____________________________________________

“So, you really never been skating before?” he asks me. He’s holding on to my hands, sort of skating backwards so he can pull me.

“If I have been skating before I wouldn’t be so scared now, would it? No, I haven’t been before. And I know what you’re going to say next, but your brother plays. I just never found the appeal for it. It was always my brother’s thing. He had hockey and I had my camera…let’s not talk about my brother, how have you been? We have only had one chance to catch up and I kind of got shit face and don’t remember most of that night.” I lift my eyes from the ground to look up at him.

“I’ve been good. last season was amazing, and I couldn’t have asked for anything more. you really don’t remember that night? Because I remember you hitting on me.” He smirks and my mouth drops open.

“No, I did not!” I say in a shocked tone.

“Yup you did. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you have a crush on me.” My cheeks got really red. I move my eyes back down to the ice.

“So little miss y/n has a crush on me. That cute.” I let go of one of his hands to slap his chest, but I lost my footing and ended up falling forward making him fall backwards.

He lets out a grunt as I land on top of him. My eyes find his and it was like he was thinking of something. Like he wanted to do something but was stopping himself.

I move off his chest so now I’m basically straddling him now. He sits up so we are face to face.  I go to speak but get cut off by him kissing me.

A little gasp left my mouth when his lips slammed onto mine. It took me a second to kiss back. My hands finding his hair and his hands move to cup the bottom of my ass. Pulling me closer to him so now are chest are touching.

“Fuck, y/n. I’ve wanted to do that for the longest time. Do you remember the day after easter. I was visiting you and your brother, and you came walking into the house with literally fifty boxes of peeps because they were on sale. That was the day that I knew I liked you.” he squeezes my ass before running his hands up and down my back.

I kiss him again and he’s quick to kiss me back. He gives my ass another squeeze making me gasp into the kiss. He slips his tongue in my mouth. But not long after he pulls away from me.

“We need to get off the ice, my ass is starting to get cold and wet.” He laughs.

_____________________________________________

He was quick to climb into the passenger seat of his car. Tapping his lap as a way to tell me to get in. I’m now straddling him, I can feel his hard on pressing into me.

“You don’t know what you do to me y/n. That night you were drunk, I was really wishing you weren’t. I was wishing that it was sober you that was hitting on me.” I was quick to kiss him again.

“You have me now, now use me.” I say wail kissing his lips. He brings his hands to my back, sliding them down so he can grab my ass.

“I’m starting to think you’re an ass guy now. I’ve always thought you were into boobs.” I pull my sweater over my head, his eyes lock on my boobs.

“I can like both can’t I. You just got such a nice ass…and tits.” He unclasps my bra, sliding the straps down my arms.

Once it off he tosses it in the driver’s seat. He kisses my neck and slowly makes his way down to my boobs. His lips wrap around my nipple as his thumb finds the other one.

“Fuck. Yes, that feels so good.” My hands pull at his hair making him moan around my nipple.

“This needs to come off.” He says pulling at the waist band of my leggings.

I climb into the back seat pulling my leggings down and tossing them to the side. Jeremy does the same with his sweatpants. I climb back on top of him. His underwear and mine are the only barrier between us. He reaches between my thighs to move my underwear to the side.

“Your so wet baby.” He says between giving me kisses on my neck as his fingers run through my folds. He pulls out his cock, lining himself up. I let out a breathy moan as he slides his cock all the way in, bottoming out.

“Fuck you feel so good.” He thrusts up, letting out a grunt with every thrust.

“Oh yes Jer, right there.” I moan out, reaching my hand down to play with my clit but he moves my hand away replacing it with his own.

If someone walked by, they would know what’s happening. Jeremys hands move to my waist helping me bounce on his cock. Loud moans leave my mouth every time his cock slams into me.

“Come one pretty girl. Cum on my cock so I can take you to my place and fuck you on any surface I can bend you over.” One of his hands makes its way around my neck the other one staying on my hip. His thrusts become faster, his hand now squeezing around my neck.

“I’m going t-” I was cut off by my orgasm. My body shakes as my back arches into Jeremy. Jeremy was quick to pull out, his cum landing on my stomach.

He rips my underwear at my hips and uses it to wipe of the cum off. He then takes of his shirt and pulls it over my head.

“Go sit in the front so I can take you home.” He says, kisses me. I climb off his lap and turn around to climb back into the passenger seat. As I’m climbing onto the center console, Jeremy now has a full view of my pussy.

His hands are back on your hips. He leans down and gives me a kiss on my ass. The thought of his mouth being so close to my pussy. This makes me shutter a bit.

“I’m going to eating you out when we get to my place. Make you sit you pretty puss on my face.” he says giving my ass a hard slap.

_____________________________________________

Jer was quick to get out of the car. coming to my side and opening the door for me. I was barely out of the car before he picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder and landing another slap on my as he brings us to the front door.

[itficlibrary]

Hey y’all! Do you have any recs for crack fics? Gen or any ship, anything is appreciated. 🤡

Hi!

First of all, apologies for how late this is!! Both mod Bevvy and I have been suuuper busy so we haven't been checking the blog as often as we really shoud be TToTT

In apology, here are ten crack fics that I've enjoyed!

Insurance Man by avocadomoon

(4k words)

"Eddie," Richie says, laughing a little, "what the fuck is going on? Are you in the mob?" Eddie doesn't laugh.

My Teeth Were So Long by glorious_spoon

(7.4k words)

“Wait, so you’re saying that she kicked you out because you kept shedding on the furniture?” Eddie pauses in his twelve-step post-airport hand-sanitizing routine to shoot Richie a truly poisonous glare from under his eyebrows. “If you laugh, I’m going to kill you.” Well, shit. Richie’s a dead man. “I’m not laughing!” he protests, smearing a hand over his mouth to make sure that it stays true, at least until Eddie is out of earshot. “I’m just saying. That was the final straw? Not the, you know…” “Lycanthropy?” Eddie finishes dryly. - Or: instead of killing him, the clown turns Eddie into a were-Pomeranian. Richie copes, sort of.

how (not) to ring in twenty-one by anonymous

(7.3k words)

Stan's eyes are crazy wide, and maybe a little shiny. "You ruined your Reputation shirt just to save me?"  "Yeah." Bill'd probably give up listening to Taylor entirely if it meant Stan was okay, but Stan knows how much he loves her and saying something like that would be a little telling. "Uh, happy birthday?"

37 things pennywise does while waiting for richie and eddie to finish going at it by leetheshark

(700 words)

When Pennywise shows up at the Derry Inn to terrorize the adult Losers, Richie and Eddie are busy getting busy, so Pennywise politely waits for them to finish. These are the things he does in the meantime.

Oh, thanks! by NeutralMime

(400 words)

Georgie looked at the terrifying clown, "Hi Georgie. What a nice boat, want it back?" The child blinked before beaming, "Yes please!" He took it and then left in less than a second. Pennywise was dumbfounded.

novelty coffee mugs (and other things your boyfriend doesn't want for christmas) by plinys

(1.3k words)

Because there in Eddie’s hands are two coffee mugs: one labeled MILF and the other, DILF. “Okay, so you were right, not a sex toy!"

It's Nice To Have A Friend by notalone91

(3.6k words)

Eddie is finally getting to spend some quality time with his girlfriend. That is, until his roommate gets home.

take on me (take me on) by resurrectdead

(3.8k words)

Eddie might as well call 911; Richie has stolen his heart and he’s getting away with it, too. or: in a world without a killer clown, richie invites the losers to see a movie about a killer doll. unfortunately, only eddie goes with him.

clogging the timeline by impravidus

(2.3k words)

TMZ ✔ @TMZ Standup comedian Richie Tozier and award winning fashion designer Beverly Marsh getting very cozy at dinner. [Image Description: A picture of Richie and Beverly in a restaurant. Beverly’s body is obscured by Richie’s, but his hands are angled suspiciously close to her breasts.] > richie tozier ✔ @trashmouthTM i’m pretty sure that’s when bev said she’s glad i have a shriveled up old man dick because i would only breed abominations and then i spit red wine on her designer blouse >> Beverly Marsh ✔ @bevmarshofficial It stained. (OR: The Losers on Twitter) TMZ ✔ @TMZ Standup comedian Richie Tozier and award winning fashion designer Beverly Marsh getting very cozy at dinner. [Image Description: A picture of Richie and Beverly in a restaurant. Beverly’s body is obscured by Richie’s, but his hands are angled suspiciously close to her breasts.] > richie tozier ✔ @trashmouthTM i’m pretty sure that’s when bev said she’s glad i have a shriveled up old man dick because i would only breed abominations and then i spit red wine on her designer blouse >> Beverly Marsh ✔ @bevmarshofficial It stained. (OR: The Losers on Twitter)

freaking out the neighborhood by killuaology

(14.5k words) (explicit)

Richie thinks that this is what being a father is like. He sure fucking feels like a father, dropping all of his plans to take care of his pet, making very specific google searches and running around his apartment like a madman, grabbing toys and a blanket and a few mice in a tupperware bowl. He knows logistically that everything he’s grabbing is useless and what he really needs is a chill pill and maybe some whiskey to soothe his shaking hands, but Richie can’t help the way his paternal side wakes up and takes control of his mind. Instead of buckling a child into a carseat, though, Richie grabs a snake from a terrarium and transfers him into the “travel cage” that he bought when he brought his snake to see a drive-in movie. Noodle is curled into a sad ball, his tail wrapped tightly around itself. He’s asleep even as Richie picks him up, which is the first bad sign, and he doesn’t move at all when Richie plants him into his other cage, which is the second bad sign. Richie can’t run to his car fast enough. [or: richie's pet snake is sick and he goes to see vet eddie ;) ;)]

[fleouriarts]

time for a jamie and co LORE POST!!!! here's them with their (immediate) families. all the actual lore and such below

JAMIE: only child with a single mom. since furries in this universe can only have kids within their taxonomic families, adoption is really common among smaller families like prionodontidae. however jamie's mom erica really wanted a bio kid, so she ended up marrying another linsang who she liked... well enough, but not that much. they get divorced when jamie's a little kid. she had jamie at an older age; by the time he's in college her markings have already started greying, which is why she looks a little dull next to him. nowadays she works as a teacher and she loves her son vewy much :3

SANTIAGO: santiago is the only one in the main cast with different species parents. cross-species kids are just the species of either parent with a 50/50 chance cus i don't feel like dealing with hybrids... HOWEVER sometimes genetic fuckshit happens. because of said genetic fuckshit, santiago grew to a cow size instead of a sheep size. i couldn't fit all the family relations shit on the actual image but emilio is santiago's OLDER brother (hes 25) but people always assume hes younger because santiago is a giant. magnolia and amapola are twins and both 8. mariana is either a teacher or a librarian (haven't figured it out yet) but she used to paint when she had more free time which is how santiago got interested in painting and eventually went into fine arts. jorge is a plumber and emilio is a graphic designer. santiago is the first in the family to leave their hometown (key west) for a degree (emilio went to a local college) and his mom + sisters were SOOOOOOOOOO SAD so he comes home to visit as often as he can. also since he is in family bovidae he has several cousins/aunts and uncles/etc that are different species. all i know for sure is that one of them lives near jamie and co's college and is some sort of antelope (leaning towards bongo bc i like them). also using this poast to announce that i changed santiagos outfit here is his new cute flowers and bees sweater look

JOHNNY: her family works on a chicken (and other assorted birds) farm, the chickens are for both eggs and meat while the other birds are just for eggs. this is actually a common set-up in the dorian furryverse, it's hard to farm livestock as a carnivore (because all the livestock are deathly afraid of you) so herbivores usually do the job even if they can't actually eat what they farm. johnny's parents are sorta "confused but got the spirit" about her being a butch lesbian. jimmy is an ass about it but he gets better. shoutout to this horse color calculator for helping me figure out which coat colors were plausible for them

NULL: null has an older brother and does not talk to their parents. sakichi is six years older than null and they were never very close; their parents treated sakichi as the "successful" child and null as the "problem" child. they're also quite conservative. null realized they were agender in high school but stayed closeted at home, they planned to come out to their parents immediately once they got to college and were able to support themselves. something happens that instead makes them come out a few days after their graduation and they get kicked out. null doesn't know where to go and ends up living at johnny's farm for the summer before college (sakichi lives far away doing some tech job and so can't take them in). the clantons are basically null's family at this point. once null legally changes their name they remove their last name entirely (it probably says X on their documents just cus there has to be SOMETHING there). sakichi and null see each other very occasionally, and sakichi still talks to their parents, but only when absolutely necessary. it's not malicious, he'd just feel too guilty cutting himself off from them completely

ARGYLE: argyle is an only child with well-off parents, his mom is a lawyer and his dad is a quirky ancient history professor. his parents are like EXTREMELY doting so they were secretly kinda glad that he came back home so they could see him more often. argyle was really scared that they would hate him for going into a less stable field, but his parents love him to death and are ready to support him in whatever. suzanne was probably a nightmare at pta meetings i'll be so real

[lakesbian]

OH have you finished all of animorphs then? Any general wrap-up thought on the characters n their arcs if so?

oh boy okay that's a big ask because the lack of specificity means i'm inclined to be comprehensive. i'm gonna force myself to be brief

jakey: very coherent arc from "i'm not the leader why are you guys saying i'm the leader stop saying i'm the leader" to "Subhuman. Flush 'em." it's good. i also like the chain where he's like. initially invested for saving his brother > tells marco he can't make calls about his mother because he's too close to the situation and is frankly an ass about it while hypocritically insisting he can handle the yeerk controlling his brother trying to murder his father, relieved when the animorphs take the difficulty of having to make the choice away from him but still views it as an indictment of his leadership capabilities > during the evacuation of the families he almost like...overcompensates w/ under-prioritizing himself and his loved ones, irrationally prioritizes everyone else's families being moved out first despite the fact that it would have made more tactical sense to do his first > he loses his family over this and it breaks him

rachel: problem w/ rachel is that, unbeknownst to me when i started reading, multiple of the books for her just had no idea what the hell or fuck they were doing, and were wildly out of character. ignoring the books that were fake and didn't happen, her arc is good. the thing is that "we might have to do something terrible, too. get rachel" is the crux of her Issues and the ghostwriters didn't need to do any of that other shit. the fake and true rachel books would've been served better by exploring the fundamental divide btwn her and cassie as people i'm sure you know what i mean

marco: probably the most consistent/strong arc? it's good. reading the end part was like

marco: i haven't seen jake in a few months. i still worry about him of course, just...from my hot tub me: that seems not true marco: okay so he hasn't seen ME in a few months but i have been continuously accidentally-on-purpose spying on him, and also sometimes i turn into a lobster in my fountain to cope me: okay yeah that's true

i like his fundamental internal conflict of. Being a person who is very capable of seeing, as per his iconic monologue, the bright line from a to z, and also continuously kicking the part of him that's horrified & upset by how that line impacts himself/the things personal to him under a rug. and despising when people pity him or acknowledge that he's upset/hurt because it reminds him he's got all that shit under the rug and distracts him from the bright clear line. really really good character writing how he's completely okay with constantly yelling and crying about how he's the most scared and afraid boy ever because fear over physical things is pragmatic, but he can't tolerate having it acknowledged when he's upset by something he knows to be necessary, because that's Not pragmatic. it adds flavor

cassie: i think it's funny how some of the other roles on the team are "the leader" "the lieutenant" "the axe-man" (<- not to be confused with the ax-man) etc and she's The One With A Continuously Functioning Moral Compass, Nerd #2, and The Emergency Lisa*. i've been told that the cassie books are either some of the strongest in the series or absolutely nothing but the thing is that i like the absolute nothing ones because i think the shenanigans are fun. so overall she's got great books. the struggle of a character who finds the moral compromises she's forced to make while participating in a war genuinely psychologically intolerable but still keeps being sucked in further is good & a nice sort of foil 2 some of the other morphs. i do have. And this has to be said despite being somewhat tangential. i do have the firm opinion that. rachel and cassie v much come off like they should be the classic "people who were bffs as kids and start becoming distant/incompatible as teens but are ignoring it and will be insisting on hanging out/calling each other bffs for several more years until something causes a bigger schism" dynamic & it would add a lot more if the text was aware of this fact and did something about it. but that's a longer post for a later time

tobias: his stomach flipping over while he tries to deny that the hawk-boy form of himself ellimist is showing him is him is perhaps one of the most stark scenes in the entire series and i think we should all be drawing it more. it's nice they put an abused autistic kid who doesn't feel like a human person in animorphs so that various children reading could have their brains rewired. i like how he's got a very heavy internal life. he's always Pondering. the torture plotline is a bit weakly written i think, his strongest moments are when he's doing an identity crisis thing. his dynamic with rachel is really good and the end of his arc does feel fitting. i think with how aximili is always going on abt how tobias is his shorm aka soulmate it would've been good if we saw more of the convos they were having or they had a more clearly Besties bond going on. although i DO like that aximili almost never shouts, someone (jake?) explicitly notes that when ax Does yell it means you'd better fucking listen, and to my memory the only call-caps moment aximili has is yelling "TOBIAS!" when he thinks tobias is critically wounded. more of that shit please. i would've also liked more tobias books in general bc he has one of the strongest narrative voices out of the gang

aximili: I was so mad about his very last book in the series being a shit ghostwriting moment. So mad you do not even want to know. entire plot of, like, book 8 all over again, except this time he's casually considering endorsing genocide for some reason. anyway i think there's a lot of interesting things going on in his head but his arc doesn't really wrap up well & there are a few ghostwritten books where he feels poorly done w/o having a rachel-type Really Iconic book that makes up for it. he works better early and mid series. he's also just a fundamentally hilarious character concept which is great. i'm sad that people lied to me about him being autistic compared to other andalites (he's not) but i like when he has axtism moments anyway. i would like to see 100 drawings of axmini get cinnamon roll now please