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emmarzhere · 3 years ago

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3am AU time: Sanders Sides Swap!!

Once again I can’t sleep due to my brain insisting it’s much more important to write down these ideas for a Light and Dark side swap AU than sleep, so 3AM TUMBLR RAMBLE IT IS BABYYYY!!!

So I wanted to try using traits already existing in each character to make their inverses, rather than just swapping traits or completely changing the character’s core values, and these are my initial late night ideas:

(Note: I saved this as a draft and revisited it in the morning / afternoon to make sure it all actually made sense and to add to it with a fresh mind)

(Extra note: I accidentally lost all my additions and the entirety of Patton’s and Virgil’s descriptions by refreshing the page, so it’ll now be written out again in a less formatted way. DAMN YOU TUMBLRRRR!!!!!!)

Roman:

My initial reaction was to make Roman “Pride”, and extend on his egocentric nature (like what is done with many Dark!Roman interpretations), however five minutes of laying in bed thinking about it later I found a trait I felt fit him better: Delusion.

This Roman could still be very much “Netflix kids and family”, living and trying to make Thomas live in a fantasy land where everything is always fine and dandy. This insistence of only seeing things through his figurative or not so figurative rose tinted glasses makes this Roman very naive and hard to get through to, and while on the surface appears very appealing to Thomas (when they first meet Thomas doesn’t understand why Roman counts as a dark side) can be very dangerous if Thomas leans too much into his ways of escaping reality, aka making Thomas a delusional person. The best part of this choice of trait for Roman is that I can still tie in his ego; delusions can be fuel people’s egos, and also to protect them from harsh realities, hence why Delusional works as a role for Roman.

While normally I see Dark Side Roman designed to be an evil prince or king, I decided to go for a more glamorous look which I think fitted my version more: Roman would wear a pristine black and red suit consisting of a red waistcoat, tie and trousers, a black button up shirt and black or red heeled boots. I also wanted his design to link to the white peacock (a rare type caused by a genetic mutation), so I topped off the outfit with either a vintage white shawl or a Cruella style coat (leaning towards Cruella because we know Roman and Disney!) with white peacock feathers attached (still trying to decide if I want Roman to have decorated the feathers with red and black accents or not), and a pair of literal rose tinted glasses to hide his white peacock eyes - pale blue with a glassy look to them which always gives the impression that he is far away, even when he’s not.

Finally his sword is replaced with a grandiose black walking stick with silver details, along with the handle being a silver peacock head (note: possibly detachable from the cane to reveal a silver knife?). I chose this as weapons like these in fiction are often used to appear innocent, only to reveal a hidden depth of skill and character; a description which I think applies well to Delusional Roman.

Extra note: Delusional Roman gets snappy, angry, or even threatening when people try to break him out of or correct him on his delusional ways, though he will often try to slip deeper into his fantasies than actually deal with emotional confrontations.

Extra extra note: Roman is incredibly jealous of his brother as he can’t understand why he’s been accepted despite Roman being the one who creates such wonderfully perfect worlds for Thomas to escape off into! He’s also jealous of how his brother doesn’t care what others think of his work and doesn’t seek validation from the others, not that Roman would ever admit that he does either of those things.

Patton:

So the 3 main aspects of Patton I felt would work best for a Dark Side are his destructive selflessness, his overly strong morale compass and how he encompasses many of Thomas’ more negative feelings.

I couldn’t decide whether to officially label him as “Denial” or “Repression”, but either way he holds a similar role: he represses his / Thomas’ negative feelings, as well as tries to push Thomas to do the morally right thing (as he still represents Morality, just not as his main trait) which almost always is the selfless option. It’s almost impossible to convince this Patton that his viewpoint is not necessarily the correct choice (he’s in denial that he as Morality can ever be in the wrong), and he becomes hostile when his views are continuously challenged.

The light sides see Patton as the main holder and cause of Thomas’ negative feelings (eg. makes Thomas act selfless and do things for others until he’s burnt out and depressed), and when Thomas is feeling these negative feelings Patton experiences them but more strongly to the point where the others have to force him out of bed (usually Logan) and take care of him until he and Thomas get out of the depressive slump. However once he’s out he will deny that he was the problem and begin pushing Thomas down the self-destructive path again.

While this Patton will deny his depression and many negative feelings, he is still not as upbeat as Happy-Pappy-Pal-Canon-Patton, matching more with how the side acts in more serious moments such as at the end of SvS redux. He will smile and comfort others, but laughter and puns are rarely seen.

Another thing about this dark side Patton is that he is very manipulative (a trait shifted from Janus to Patton), even if he doesn’t believe himself to be. He uses his role as “morale compass” to invalidate other’s opinions if they clash with his, and often emotionally hurts the sides he gets close to by caring for them and performing selfless acts for them to show his love (eg. makes breakfast for the other Darks sides every morning, goes out of his way to learn more about their interests so that they can have someone to talk to them about) followed by him simplifying complex morale dilemmas in a way that makes it appear that his option is the only correct one, making the others feel bad about their differing viewpoints (a bit like how Roman felt invalidated and morally wrong throughout SvSR as his views didn’t line up with Patton’s).

This Patton wears a worn out pale blue shirt with a fraying black jumper over the top, leaving only the collar of the shirt visible. He has frog features too; with blots of green skin scattered all over his body, slightly webbed hands and he croaks! The splodges grow larger the more emotion Patton represses. He also really doesnt like his frog features as they don’t align with the perfect image of himself that Patton has in his head, so he tries to cover them up as much as possible with his black jumper, pale blue gloves (leather ones as he tried woollen ones and his frog skin made them go sticky) and baggy trousers, although there isn’t much he can do to hide the blots on his face or his brown frog eyes....

(He’s also constantly worn out as frog-pops has no clue what self-care even means)

Extra note: Patton goes through a sort of alternate character development to canon Patton, where as he begins to be accepted by some of the Light Sides and Thomas they discuss how he doesn’t just represent Thomas’ negative feelings, but all of his feelings; a lot of them are just also accidentally repressed alongside the “bad” feelings. As time goes on Patton becomes more cheerful and goofy, even dropping the occasional dad joke, although never quite to the levels of canon Patton.

Extra extra note: The happier this Patton is, the less faded the blues on his clothes become (much like Virgil’s eyeshadow), until at moments of peak happiness his gloves and shirt are canon Patton blue (eg. when Thomas is with Nico, or when Janus and Thomas first accepted him). Cute blue embroidered designs also form on his black jumper at peak happiness, such as butterflies, simple cats, pawprints and frogs.

Logan:

So Logan is the only side I have decided to leave with the same official trait title: Logic, although he also has the orange trait Anger within him. He will also be taking the place of Virgil as the Dark Side who is prematurely accepted.

However Logan here is still different from canon Logan: he represses and denies his emotions even more than canon due to the other dark sides attitudes towards him (Delusional Roman in particular does not appreciate the truth bombs and logical reasoning the calculator watch drops), leading to more angry outbursts / orange showing through. This makes Logan a horribly unstable side, with him appearing completely apathetic to any sort of feeling for an undetermined period of time until he next reaches his limit and has an explosion of rage - he holds both Logic and Anger/Orange in him here, but the anger shows through a lot more due to his circumstances.

His clothes are always shredded and falling apart due to him tearing them when he’s angry + the rage can come out like an explosion that wrecks everything in his surrounding area, including the clothes on him. He sticks to plain black t shirts and trousers to start with as he claims he doesn’t see the point in putting effort into an outfit as he has no desire to please others.

However when Thomas starts making videos Logan can’t help but show up from time to time. He is unsure why as he could not care less what Thomas or the idiotic “Light Sides” think of him, though he figures while he’s there he might as well educate the buffoons so they can reach more informed, educated conclusions to their constant dilemmas.

At first the Lights don’t take his presence well, and more times than one he’d leave towards the end of an episode to explode in the privacy of his room. But surprisingly they eventually start listening to him, considering his inputs, and Logan leaves filming shoots satisfied, even popping into the Light Side’s area occasionally outside of filming days to talk to them.

However Logan notices a pattern as time goes on: the more he’s around the Light Sides, the less he goes Orange. He tests it by spending a week only hanging with the Lights and finds that his anger barely built up at all. Logan quickly reaches the conclusion that his orange trait isn’t actually uncontrollable, it’s how the others treated him that made it so hard to act civil. That is what leads to Logan hating the Dark Sides (much like canon Virgil does) and finally joining the lights.

Soon after being accepted Logan has an outfit change, where he goes from his burnt, tattered rags to his canon outfit, as he finally feels stable and appreciated enough to trust himself in not ruining a nice new Logic outfit. From then on his journey is about accepting that he has feelings and learning that they’re valid.

Extra note: Logan’s worst fear is the idea of going Orange in front of Thomas or the Light Sides - he finally has people who listen to him and if they see his orange side it might scare them off or they’ll lose any respect for him they had. Worst of all they could get hurt…

Extra extra note: Neither Thomas or any of the Light Sides apart from Janus are aware that Logan holds the Orange trait, believing that he only ever was Logic, just more apathetic to start with (and they actually all buy his reasoning of his old outfit being trashed due to him not caring enough about appearances to fix it, to Janus’s dismay but not disbelief - a bunch of himbos, the lot of them!).

Virgil:

Virgil still represents the “Fight or Flight” response in this AU, just without the excess Anxiety. His official title would be “Instinct”, and he would be more confident than canon Virgil. The decrease in anxiety would also make him better at making rational decisions, though he would still freak out and make not-so-great choices in stressful situations.

Rather than a spider, I decided to link this Virgil more strongly with a cat, with heightened senses, lightning reflexes and eyes that reflect light much like a cats. These additions also match with his change of aesthetic from patchwork emo to fantasy vigilante mixed with bright purple punk, plus the addition of purple eyeshadow applied actually correctly. I made this choice as both canon and this Virgil see themselves as a protector of Thomas, yet Virgil is still slightly more morally grey than the other 2 Light Sides (sort of like canon Logan) hence a darker design. Plus is it really Virgil at all if he doesn’t spend his free time listening to MCR?

Virgil also takes the role of canon Roman when it comes to Patton being accepted: he initially falls strongly for Patton’s caring qualities, with the Dark side helping sooth his anxious moments and suggesting that Thomas make other non-selfish options that don’t make Virgil feel as anxious as some of Janus’ options. So for Patton’s first few conflicts Virgil sticks up for him, claiming he’s not all bad. Then he witnesses how Patton’s selfless choices affect Thomas and realises he’s been manipulated; there was no reason to go all the way with Patton’s choice and hurt Thomas, yet Patton had convinced him that it was either his way or the wrong way, no compromises available.

So by the time Patton reveals his name Virgil really dislikes him and makes a snarky remark in which Patton replies with a jab at how he didn’t realise being Thomas’ protector meant that you could be as evil as you wanted with none of the consequences. Virgil’s equivalent line to Roman’s hero one could be something like “Don’t you trust me?” or “I thought I was your best friend?” - then again Roman’s hero line does work with this version of Virgil.

Janus:

This was one of the easiest traits to decide: with a lot of his more manipulative and deceitful traits being distributed between Patton and Roman, Janus is officially titled “Self-Preservation”, and while he doesn’t claim the father role like Patton does, he is still very much seen as a parental figure and guiding light for Thomas and the lights. He tries to be warm and welcoming to the Light sides (part of his role is to take care of Thomas, hence taking care of the parts that make Thomas), and they naturally gather around him as he gives off a safe aura.

However he is not quite as kind to the Darks - he still has the role of managing what truths Thomas can handle, so he controls which sides stay hidden from him. The darks being revealed tends to be down to him slipping up or the side finding a way around his defences more than by him deciding Thomas is ready to meet them, and each time it happens he beats himself up over it and tries to work harder to not let it happen again. The problem he doesn’t realise is that the slip ups tend to happen in the first place due to him overworking himself to make the others / Thomas happy - he doesn’t quite perform the self-care he preaches about.

I’m still not quite sure where I want to go with Janus’ outfit: the initial thought was to put him in a more Patton inspired attire, however this is still Janus, and he is still a theatrical boi. I ended up settling for a mainly cottage-core aesthetic with a flowy long sleeve yellow shirt made out of a light fabric, brown trousers and an overly large sunhat. He also drapes himself in bright patterned shawls and wraps (still predominantly yellow in colour) as while he doesn’t look as snake-like as he canonically does he still has certain snake traits, such as a weakness to the cold and a yellow tint to his left eye.

However snake features do begin to form later on into the AU as Thomas’ views on Lights and Darks alter over time: he begins to realise that despite how it appears Janus is not always in the right, such as how if it hadn’t been for mistakes Thomas would never have met the Darks and learnt to grow as a person - in fact if Self-Preservation got the say in everything he would likely do little growing whatsoever. He and in turn the other Lights begin to find Janus too stifling until SvSR happens where under the stress Janus becomes a true snake boi. The scales and proper snake eye don’t fade afterwards due to Thomas’ subconscious change in perspective, and while it is a big new insecurity at first over time Janus learns to accept these new changes to himself and the Mindscape, and begins adding a touch of darker mystical aesthetic to his look (slightly fantasy fortune teller based) to match his new look better - although cottage-core remains his go to!!

Extra note: In this AU Janus is definitely the side that would most likely be seen going around the Mindscape in a dress (Roman would also wear dresses on occasion but mainly only within his daydreams in the Imagination); he is all about taking care of yourself, and that includes wearing what makes you happy! Though I’m still kind of tempted to put him in a dress full time...

Extra extra note: while Janus is very much the “adult figure” in the Light Mindscape, he still has his goofy moments like in canon - in general he is more relaxed and jokey with the others...though he’s still a sarcastic shet.

(I struggled finding images that matched at all with the ideas in my head, so take these as very vague links to the actual design)

Remus:

Oh boy, Remus is a fun one...

So now that Roman is the twin known by a different title (like how canon Remus is referred to as “Intrusive Thoughts”), Remus now has claim to the Creativity role!! However Remus isn’t going to do a 180 personality wise - he’s still going to be a chaotic gremlin, just with a light side twist.

His design is purposely all over the place: his aesthetic is mainly pirate based with a long sleeve pirate shirt, loose black trousers and heeled black and silver pirate boots, alongside a dark green pirate jacket and slightly brighter bandana. However he has other seemingly random elements thrown in there, such as a white and green hero cape (fuck what Edna says) coming off the back of the coat, and random colourful potions in the green belt under his coat alongside a knight’s sword. This mismatched look is due to the type of imagination Remus provides: while he still represents and creates intrusive thoughts, he also creates adventure stories and life goals/dreams for Thomas, hence takes a form that has mixed elements from Thomas’ self-inserts and protagonists for said stories. While he personally loves his messy design (do you know how much fun can be had with magic potions, swords, tentacles, and a day in the Imagination? Remus sure does), it does cause some arguments between him and Logan over how illogical him and his ideas are (like canon Roman and Logan).

Roman makes this Remus....uncomfortable. Not necessarily because of his ideas (those are just dull and vomit-worthy in his opinion), but because of how he can’t separate dreams and reality - while Remus loves coming up with Imaginative stories for Thomas and setting slightly outlandish goals for the future, he has a level of awareness that Roman lacks in how he knows Thomas won’t ACTUALLY end up being a morally grey pirate travelling the seas to claim back the magical pendant of octopus powers (unless...). He’s also uneasy with how easily Thomas can fall for Roman’s delusions of grandeur and romance, in fact it opens up quite a major insecurity on how despite being the “good” twin his brother seems to succeed more as the creative role, eg. how Thomas will come up with a dream future career path, husband and even car in a matter of seconds yet Remus has to slave and hone in on decent ideas for weeks to reach his own standard.

This leads to another thing about Remus: while he doesn’t care what others think of his ideas (the trait I mentioned earlier that Roman was jealous of) he hold a high standard to himself and gets extremely happy when he perfects an idea. Besides he still wants his ideas to actually be used by Thomas as them being dismissed for not being good enough does hurt (a bit like how Remus got frustrated in the recent episode with how his “good” intrusive creations were being torn apart by Logan’s methods).

Extra note: The fact that Thomas doesn’t like or appreciate some of his darker ideas / intrusive thoughts doesn’t bother Remus too much as he tends to put less effort into them as he knows they won’t be liked - he just can’t help that they pop into his head and he has to get them out - repression is bad after all! However maybe there can be some episode drama about Remus wanting to be less stifled and have Thomas at least consider some of his more mature themes that he thinks would be good to expand upon.

Extra extra note: Just assuring the fact that Remus not caring what the others think about his work does not correlate with him not caring about the others. He loves his fellow Light Sides and Thomas - he’s just confident in his own craft and while appreciates advice and improvements from the others (he and Logan have a field day on creating biologically accurate gore together) he also is aware that HE is Creativity, and he understands his craft better than the others.

Extra extra EXTRA note: Wasn’t really sure how to put it in there but Remus still represents Thomas’ lust. Do with that what you want.

Thomas:

So all these changes to the sides....of course it has it’s effects on character!Thomas! However I’m getting REALLY tired now so this will be done in bullet points:

Not as Disney-centric as canon/real Thomas.

Has less issues with Anxiety, and more issues dealing with Depression

His morals start off a bit more flexible than canon due to always having we-live-in-a-society Janus as his guide

Still has intrusive thoughts, but not as debilitating with the lower levels of anxiety and the much better relationship with Remus.

Still overworks himself trying to help others (nice one Patton!)

Might have a different career due to Roman being more out the frame - maybe goes into writing instead with Remus’ more diverse form of creativity.

Does explore more diverse creative ideas and darker themes, but still out of habit sometimes puts down possibly good ideas as on surface level they appear too morally wrong.

However could possibly be in a non-creative career, and his major longing for a new career path could be what allows Roman through for the first time.

Less dad jokes but still incredibly goofy with both Remus and Janus being more present.

I think I’m going to wrap up there for now! I may make some art for this at some point, but I also want other’s opinions and ideas for this AU.

If you made it this far, thanks for reading!!

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oligbia · 4 years ago

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Heels Over Head

Izuku MidoriyaXReader SFW, Fluff

Midoriya tightened his glare, brows furrowed, green hair falling into his face. His scowl turned into a smile, determination seeping from his skin in the form of beads of sweat. He was not going to lose. His arms were purple, bones broken from overdoing his somewhat new quirk.

You flung yourself upwards again, your quirk launching you high into the hair. You quickly started a decent, nose-diving at rapid speed to Midoriya. You knew he was better suited to use his arms at this point in training, he wouldn't be able to reach you this high. You began to rotate your body, coming down on him with your fist extended like a screw gun onto a board.

You struck him in the head, sending him flying back. His limp body skidded off of the fighting circle, and he showed no sign of getting up. You flung forward yourself, still unsure of the best way to land after falling from such a tall height. You hit the ground with a large 'oof'. You were pretty sure you heard your ankle break, or at least get a pretty gnarly fracture.

You heard Present Mic announce you as the round's winner, but you were struggling to get up and bask in your victory yourself. You may have won your round of the Sports Festival, but you weren't sure you could make another. You finally found the strength to get up, your weight visibly shifted off your damaged ankle. A classmate rushed over to you, and you draped an arm over their shoulder and shifted your weight onto them. You watched as they loaded an unconscious Midoriya onto a stretcher and wheeled him to an infirmary.

Your classmate droned on and on about the Sports Festival, your win over Midoriya, and needing to make sure you can compete next round to 'do your class justice.' But, honestly, you were more worried about Midoriya. You hadn't met him prior to today, but you still felt guilty. Your goal was to beat him- not make him unconscious. He was a fair oppinant, he gave you a run for your money. He had a lead on you for a while, but once he started to break his bones his restraint became his downfall. You took that chance to take a few hard blows to him, landing you where you are now.

You and your classmate stumbled into the infirmary, and they dropped you into a chair to wait. You hadn't had a chance to look at your ankle yet, but in the chair you did. It was bruised all around your foot, the purple and yellow hues almost looking black at points. Both ankles were swollen, but the bruised one was two or three times the size of the other.

You heard a few final remarks faintly from Recovery Girl, something about taking time to rest and a concussion. You weren't able to see her, but from the sounds of her voice she was behind a curtain on the other end of the infirmary. You watched as she wandered over to you, her tiny legs shuffling under her.

“You’re the young girl who fought Young Midoriya. Good fight…” She survives your ankle, “...nasty results.” She pokes at your bruised ankle, you grimace with pain. A strong throbbing pain shot through your foot. “This one is definitely broken, but lucky for you young lady, the other is just sprained. Nothing I can’t fix for you, deary.”

You watched curiously as she placed a long kiss on your broken ankle, but you didn’t notice any immediate changes.

“It should be better after a half hour or so, in the meantime I will wrap up your other ankle. You should be fine to compete later if you want.”

You smiled and thanked her. She worked on wrapping up the sprained ankle, some of the pressure already relieving. Almost on cue after finishing, she received a call to go to the arena to care for a student on sight- something about the explosive kid from 1-A and a girl he took down. She told you that you were welcomed to stay until you could see yourself out and offered you a pair of crutches before she scurried away.

You sat in silence for a while before you heard faint mumbling coming from behind the curtain. Curiosity got the better of you, and you got up on the crutches, wandering over to the curtain. You drew it back a little, peaking your head behind it.

Midoriya sat propped up in bed, his gym uniform a little torn and twisted up, exposing his bruised abdomen. His arms were wrapped up, but less purple. It was a safe bet that Recovery Girl gave him the same treatment that you had received. His left eye had a pretty bad bruise, making his already dark iris seem even darker. He was scribbling into a notebook, mumbling to himself. You cleared your throat and his eyes shot up to meet yours.

His eyes widened and he quickly closed his notebook, shoving it to the side and trying to move it out of sight. “Ah! I’m so sorry, I probably was being loud!” His voice was frantic and he stumbled over his words.

You peered over to his side. “What were you doing?”

“I was taking notes. I write about different things I think can make me a good hero.”

You nodded. “I’m sorry I beat you up real bad…”

He smiled, his posture relaxing some. “It’s alright. I’ve seen worse.” He lifts his arms up. “I break these pretty often, actually.” He chuckles a little. You looked at him awkwardly, unsure of the joke.

“You had me beat for a while. I wasn’t sure I would win. I’m no good at distanced combat.”

He looked down at your ankles, noticing their state. “Well, your quirk is based on your feet, right? Actually, I have some questions about that…” he pulled out his notebook again. He started flipping through pages of it quickly. You sat down at the edge of the bed, square with his torso. Midoriya, not aware of your presence, began to ramble on about different strategies he had noticed about your quirk. You didn’t have a complex quirk by any means. Your feet had invisible springs, allowing you to jump to incredible heights. It had it’s limitations like everyone else’s. You watched his face, eyes constantly drawing to the large bruise over his eye and the gash on his lip that had been caked over with dried blood. Without thinking much about it, you pulled the wet rag from the bedside table next to Midoriya and gently patted at his lip, trying to clean off some of the blood.

Shivers traveled down Midoriya’s spine at the feeling of the cool washcloth patting gently on his bottom lip. He stopped his thoughts abruptly, looking up at you. Your eyes were focused on his lip, unable to meet his. His pupils grew in shock at your care, especially considering you had just kicked his ass and you had another fight later.

Noticing his silence, you filled in some blanks for him, still dabbing his bottom lip. “My quirk is essentially large invisible springs on the bottoms of my feet. But, like springs, you can't constantly jump high. You have to get a handful of small jumps before a big one. It’s almost like a trampoline, I guess.”

Your eyes finally meet his, and you give him a quick smile. His eyes trace your face, trying to memorize every detail of it. He thought you were quite cute, he was particularly fond of the way your hair was still messy from the fight and the way your eyes seemed to hold an extra layer of determination behind them. He watched as you placed the rag next to you and ran a finger along his cheekbone, caressing the bruise covering his eye.

“Your eye is really swollen, I’m sorry about that too…”

“No! No, no it’s alright. It was an honor to get kicked in the head by you, L/N.” His voice cracked at the beginning, your intimate gesture taking him by surprise. You laughed a little, moving your hand off his face. “Whatever you say, Midoriya.”

He watched as you stood up, taking the crutches under your arms. “I have another fight with some kid from your class- Tokoyami, I think. Anyways, I don’t expect to beat him. My quirk isn’t any match for that shadow thing he has.”

Midoriya smiled, “Well, at least you can say you beat the problem child.”

You shook your head and smiled, grabbing the notebook from his chest. Before he could start panicking and asking for it back, you flipped to the page with a drawing of you and notes about your quirk. You scribbled out your number for him.

“Call me sometime, problem child.”

#my hero academia #midoriya x reader #midoriya x y/n #izuku midoria x reader #izuku x reader #my hero academia x reader #izuku midoriya #izuku midoriya x reader

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imaginationintowords · 4 years ago

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Folklore [song series]

cardigan

Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x OC!Reader; Steve Rogers x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years.

Word Count: 11672

Warnings: swearing, sexual innuendos, underage drinking

[a/n: sorry it took me awhile to get this part out. But to make up for it this one is a long one! Sorry if it’s a little confusing, I know there’s a lot to it, so I hope it’s easy to follow. Also if you would like to be tagged, just let me know]

Previous Part

Series Masterlist

Age: 19 Year: 2013 Location(s): Stanford, CA & Brooklyn, NY Elizabeth was spending her Friday afternoon packing up the last bit of her things that would be shipped back to Brooklyn tomorrow. She planned it so that if they were shipped tomorrow, they would arrive back home two days after she got there. Enough time for her to unpack the stuff she was taking with her on her flight in a couple of days. Elizabeth had successfully completed her first year of college at the University of Stanford. It was the best year of her life. "Hey Liz!" Her roommate, Wanda greeted her. Last summer, Elizabeth received an email from the school telling her who her dorm mate would be, along with the girl's email address. Wanda Maximoff was originally from Sokovia, but she and her family moved to Boston when she was 8 years-old. Both girls instantly clicked. That summer they were constantly in communication with each other. They both went over their excitement and fears of moving across the country. Wanda, like Elizabeth, had never been away from her family for so long, especially her twin brother. They both eased each other's minds, knowing they weren't alone in this journey. Up until her senior year Elizabeth had every intention of not being alone going into college, but in the end that wasn't the case. Steve ended up going to Berkley, and Bucky ended up at NYU. When they finally both moved into their dorm, it was like they had been life long friends. Wanda was pre-med while Elizabeth was pre-law, so they both knew that one another would take priority in their education over partying. Didn't mean they didn't go out to the occasional party, they both just knew the sacrifices their families were making for them to be at an out of state university. "Hey Wand, what's up?" Elizabeth smiled, while continuing to pack. "Are you going to the party at Loki's house?" Loki Odinson was a junior. He was a legacy student, both his parents were Stanford University alumni. They had a house that was only 15 minutes away from campus, Loki and his friends lived there during the semester, before they all fled back to Los Angeles for the summer.

Even though he was rich beyond means, he wasn't a jerk. He was friendly to everyone around him. Everyone wanted to be his friend, and he wouldn't say no to that. When Elizabeth first met him she thought he was flirting with her, and she kind of welcomed the idea of dating someone like him. But she later found out that Loki wasn't into her, or any other females for that matter. He had a long term boyfriend who was going to USC, they took turns visiting each other every weekend. Normally the weekends Loki wasn't having a party were the ones his boyfriend was visiting. Loki was also a law student, so he helped Elizabeth whenever she needed it. He hosted a weekly meeting in the library for freshman students who were law students, it was a way to help them navigate their first year and the stressors that came with it. He was like their big brother. Elizabeth owes a lot to him this year, because she wasn't sure how she would've made it alive without him. "Yeah, I was planning on it," Elizabeth said taping up the final box for the night, "Last party of the school year. Did you want to go together?" "Yes, please," Wanda said, throwing herself onto her bed. Wanda's side of the room was semi-packed up. Her family was flying in the day Elizabeth was flying out. They were renting a RV and taking a road trip across country. Wanda leaned on her elbow facing Elizabeth, and looking around the room, "Wow, you're almost done packing!" "Yup," she said, getting off of the floor and pressing the palms of her hands to her back to let out the cracks from sitting on the floor for a long period of time, "Movers are picking up my things tomorrow to ship back home. The last things I need to pack our the rest of my clothes I have left, but those are all going in my suitcase to take on the flight with me." "Can't wait til the fall where we don't have to be stuck in these dorms," Wanda stretched out on her tiny bed. Wanda and Elizabeth were planning on getting an apartment next semester at one of the student housing apartment complexes next to the campus. As much as they enjoyed the dorms, having their own privacy would be so much better. Without the constant interruptions from other people on their floor, or from having to share a bathroom with the whole floor. It will be nice to have their own space. They both took on little jobs on campus during the school year, and had planned to also work the entire summer to save up some money. Their parents had agreed to help with the rent, as long as both Wanda and Elizabeth kept up a 3.7 GPA and had jobs to pay for the necessities they would be needing. It was a great deal that they couldn't pass on. "What are you going to wear tonight?" Elizabeth asked Wanda, as she stood in front of her small closet, which now was only half filled. "My lucky red dress," Wanda smiled, "Rumor has it Loki's older brother Thor will be there tonight." Thor was Loki's older brother. He was a senior at Berkley, which was only about an hour drive away. Thor was an Environmental studies major, who was also the captain of the Cal Bears Field Hockey team. He was the complete opposite of Loki when it came to their looks, and taste in genders. He was a bit taller than Loki, had a ton more muscles, long blonde hair, and the times Elizabeth and Wanda had seen him, he had a full grown beard. He looked very intimidating at first glance, but he was actually just a giant bear. Like Loki, he just wanted to be everyone's friend, and just wanted to make sure everyone around him was having a good time. They were clearly both raised by the same parents. Elizabeth laughed out loud, "Wanda, please tell me you're not planning on trying to hook up with him tonight." "Duh, hence my lucky red dress," Wanda got out of bed and grabbed the red dress hanging from her closet, "This dress is magic, okay. It hasn't failed me yet." Wanda's red dress became her "lucky red dress" after she aced her first exam, and hooked up with a cute sophomore she had been eyeing, all on the same day. Whenever she needed luck on her side, she wore the dress. During finals she wore it the entire week, washing it in between each day, they wouldn't be getting their results back for a few more days, but Wanda knew she had done well. Elizabeth didn't bother to try and belittle the lucky dress, because even she might have worn it a few times and had gotten good results. "Plus, seeing as Thor is graduating next week it might be the last time I see him, so go big or go home," Wanda smiled proudly.

_______________________

A few hours later Wanda and Elizabeth found themselves walking up to Loki's house. At night the house might've reminded those in passing of a fraternity house, but in the daylight it was completely not. The yard was always perfectly manicured. The exterior reminded Elizabeth of a house in the Hamptons, while the interior was something straight out of a interior design magazine. It was definitely not a house made for college aged boys.

Wanda was dressed in her lucky red dress, with a pair of black booties, and a leather jacket. Her hair was in loose curls falling down her back. She kept her makeup light, aside from the dark red lip she had on.

Elizabeth was a bit more casual with some ripped at the knee black jeans, a loose grey t-shirt, and a suede burgundy moto jacket. She had straightened her curls that night, but since the weather was getting warmer she put it up in a messy ponytail. Her makeup was a very bare minimum, just some mascara and a nudish pink lipstick that practically matched her lips. She didn't come tonight for a hookup, she just came to spend time with these new friends she made before she headed back home for the summer.

As soon as they walked into the crowded house, they immediately headed to the bar area to grab something to drink.

"Do you see Thor?" Wanda asked Elizabeth as they received their drinks from the bar tender, who Loki paid for the night a lot to overlook the underage drinking.

"No," Elizabeth said speaking a little louder because of the music, "If he were here, I'm sure we would spot him right away. Man is built like a god."

"Damn right he is," Wanda smirked taking a sip from her drink.

Elizabeth let out a laugh at her friend's comment, before going back to scanning the room.

"Let's go out back," she shouted, grabbing Wanda's hand.

They weaved through the loud crowded makeshift dance floor that was the living room.

Once outside they could hear the cheering sounds of a game of beer pong going on.

"Hey girls!" They turned their heads to find Loki walking up to them.

"Hey Loki, no Scott this weekend?" Elizabeth asked, noticing he was sans his boyfriend.

"No, he had to study for finals, he's coming up next week for Thor's graduation though," he says, hugging both girls.

"Speaking of which, where is that brother of your's?" Wanda tried to nonchalantly ask.

"I see you're wearing your lucky red dress," Loki remarks ignoring her question, he had a smirk on his face, knowing exactly what Wanda was up to.

"Oh, am I, I didn't even realize it," she played along, sending him a wink.

"He'll be he-" Loki was immediately cut off by a loud booming voice making it's way through the house and towards the back, "Mention and he shall appear."

The girls peered over their shoulder to see Thor walking in with a group of guys following him. Some of them Elizabeth recognized as his friends from Berkeley.

"Brother," Thor shouts, rushing his way towards Loki, throwing his arms around his younger brother in a bone crushing hug. You'd think they haven't seen each other in months, but they actually saw each other a couple a times a week for dinner.

Elizabeth found it cute the way they were really close. She never had any siblings, she always wanted some but her parents had only wanted one kid. She knew if she had a sibling she would want the same relationship Thor and Loki had.

"Ladies," Thor greets Wanda and Elizabeth, as he finally releases his brother.

"Hi," Elizabeth waved.

"Wanda, nice dress," Thor said throwing his arm over the small red head.

"Oh this old thing," she smiled, as he lead her towards the beer pong table.

"That damn dress," Loki laughed.

"It's lucky for a reason," Elizabeth laughed shaking her head.

"Elizabeth?" Elizabeth turned around thinking she heard her name called but she shrugged it off thinking it was just Wanda from up ahead.

"Elizabeth? Betty?" At the mention of her old nickname she froze, and instantly turned back around to come into eye contact with none other Steve Rogers.

"Steve!?" She exclaimed, completely taken back by seeing him here in the flesh.

He looked a bit different. He definitely had bulked up since the last time she saw him at their high school graduation.

"Oh my gosh, it is you," he shakes his head in disbelief before hugging her.

"Woah, you're huge," she remarked wrapping her hands around him.

"Berkley has a nice student gym," he remarks as they pull apart from each other, still taking each other in.

It felt like they were both looking at strangers. Yes, they still basically looked the same, but there was something different about both of them. Something more mature. Here are two young adults who had spent their childhood and teenage years together, looking at each other in complete amazement.

They hadn't spend much of senior year together. After giving Bucky his letter, Elizabeth had went over to Steve's to apologize in person. He welcomed her with open arms, but there was still something a bit off. What happened between their little group had changed them forever. Their friendship would never be the same again. And maybe that was for the better, Elizabeth had thought at the time.

Now as they stand in front of each other taking it all in, they hadn't realized how much they had missed each other. Missed home.

Loki clears his throat behind them, signaling he was still there.

"Oh, Loki," Elizabeth glanced behind, "this is Steve, we grew up together. Steve this is Loki."

"Hey," Steve reached his hand over for Loki to take, "Thor has told many stories about you."

"God, of course he has," Loki took his hand and rolled his eyes, "I'm sure they were all at my expense."

Elizabeth caught Loki subtly checking Steve out, causing a small blush to form on her cheeks. Guess she wasn't the only one taken by his new stature.

"They weren't all bad," Steve laughed.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'll leave you two to catch up, I have a red dress to see in action," he says before walking away.

"Red dress?" Steve asked confused.

"It's nothing," she shook her head, realizing the amount of inside jokes she's made that no longer include him.

"So how have you been?" She asks him, as she leads him to a secluded part of the backyard where the music wasn't so loud.

"Good," he smiles one of his famous bright smiles, "Just been busy. You know freshman year not as easy as I had thought it would be."

"You're telling me," she laughs, "I'm glad I encountered Loki because he's been a massive help."

"Are you guys..." he starts to imply.

"Oh no," she quickly interrupts, "Let's just say Loki would be way more into you than me."

"Ah I get the picture," he lets out a loud laugh.

They didn't realize how much time had gone by, before Loki comes running up to them.

"IT WORKED!" He yelled, slightly slurring his words, "That damn red dress is fucking magic."

"Of course it is," Elizabeth smiled, watching Loki shake his head and make his way back to the party.

"What is this red dress?"

"My roommate Wanda, she has this red dress, and it's sorta became a lucky red dress throughout the year. It's magical," she says, but then something comes over herself, causing her to correct herself.

"It's nothing. It's just silliness. I'm sure it's not really magic," she shakes her head, and the idea of still believing in magic.

"Hey, don't do that," he places his hand softly on top of hers that was laid in between them on the bench they were sat at, "If you say it's magic, I believe it. There's nothing wrong with having a little magic in your life. Lord knows I believe, reason I won't use any other pencil when taking my final."

"Ahh Steve Rogers has a lucky pencil?" She playfully mocks.

"Steve Rogers has more than one lucky pencil," he laughs, "I have one for my written finals, and one I use for my drawings."

"Ah your drawings," she beamed, "They were always my favorite. I was so happy for you when I heard you decided to pursue something that allows you to still put your powers into use."

"My powers?" He asked, with a smile on his face.

"Yeah, your drawings were always so powerful," She beamed at him, "You knew how to bring whatever you were drawing to life. Your Brooklyn bridge drawing is still hands down one of my favorites."

"And between us," she lowers her voice, causing both of them to move their heads closer to each other, "It's my lucky totem."

"What? You still have it?" He quietly asked in disbelief.

The drawing was years old. He had drawn it one day during homeroom when they were 14, he didn't like how it came out but Elizabeth wouldn't let him toss it. She ended up taking it from him, to make sure he didn't throw it away. She had told him that one day he's going to want to look back on it and see how far he's come, even though she was positive he couldn't possibly get any better than he already was.

"I always keep it folded up in my pocket when I take a test," she confesses, "Have been since that day four years ago. It's my lucky drawing."

Steve stared at Elizabeth in awe. He didn't know what to say, he had just assumed she had lost it. But hearing that it was her lucky charm made his heartbeat quicken. For the first time in his life he wasn't seeing little innocent Betty, he was seeing Elizabeth. A beautiful, confident, mature young woman. She really blossomed here in college. He had never seen her so happy, so at peace. She was absolutely glowing.

He could feel his hands getting clammy, and his throat getting dry. He caught himself glance down at her lips and then back at her eyes. He tried to swallow the lump down his throat.

"Liz!" He heard someone yell in the background, causing both of them to snap out of their gaze.

They looked over to find Loki, once again. Slightly more drunk than last time.

"She's fucking my brother!" He exclaims in horror, "In my fucking room!"

Elizabeth laughs quietly and shakes her head.

"I better go make sure Loki doesn't drink himself from the horror of it all," she tells Steve, as they both get up.

"Wouldn't want that happening," he says, feeling his cheeks heat up.

"No, I'm going to need him next year," she smiles before walking away.

Elizabeth stopped and turned around, "Hey Steve, when are you flying back home?"

"Sunday morning at 8am, you?"

"Same. Where you flying from?"

"San Francisco International," he tells her.

"Well look at that, we're on the same flight home. Guess I'll see you Sunday morning," she smiled waving good bye.

"See you Sunday," he waved back, a big grin on his face.

After she was gone, Steve was left alone to his thoughts. His mind was racing with so many different thoughts. Was he really thinking about kissing Elizabeth? Bucky's Elizabeth. I mean she technically wasn't Bucky's Elizabeth anymore, but still as Bucky's best friend he shouldn't be having those thoughts of kissing his ex-girlfriend and first love. Hell Bucky was still in love with Elizabeth.

After Bucky had received that letter from Elizabeth, it kind of gave him hope for the future. He had told Steve that he wasn't going to give up on them getting back together. Steve was finding himself hoping that maybe Bucky had moved on from that idea. Maybe being at college has matured him the way it did for him and Elizabeth.

He glanced back at the house to catch Elizabeth pulling a shot away from a drunk Loki, as she tried to make sure he wouldn't cause any harm to himself.

Bucky was an idiot for screwing that up, he found himself thinking.

___________________

Elizabeth spent Saturday finishing up any last minute packing, before the movers arrived to pick up what was being shipped back. She also spent the afternoon hearing all about Wanda's wild night with Thor. Apparently Thor had such a great time he even invited her to his graduation, and she gladly accepted. Elizabeth smiled as her friend continued to talk about Thor, she noticed the way Wanda's eyes lit up. Her friend was falling in love and she didn't even notice.

She and Wanda had a final dinner that night. They had planned on meeting up later in the summer, to discuss apartment details, and see where each other grew up from.

Elizabeth was finding herself wishing for Sundays approach. Not because she was ready to go home, but she wanted to talk more with Steve. When Wanda asked what happened between them Saturday night, Elizabeth told her the truth. Nothing happened. It was simply just two old friends catching up. Wanda didn't believe her, but dropped the subject.

Steve really had grown up since last year. And not just his physical attributes. Elizabeth found herself loving hearing Steve talk all about what was going on with school. And especially when he talked about architecture. He even pointed out things that he would do to make Loki's house a lot nicer. She had never seen Steve so animated before. It really had her thinking if she even truly knew Steve.

They had spent most of their whole lives together, but when she thought back on it, it was never really just them two. It was always her, Bucky, and Steve. And when Bucky wasn't around it was in student council with other classmates around. She and Steve probably hadn't spent time together since they were children. Last night was the first time where they actually had a long conversation, with just them two. A real conversation about their dreams, and not the silly kind you have when you're seven, but the kind where you're actually making them come true.

It also had her thinking back to the moment when she revealed about keeping Steve's drawing of the Brooklyn bridge. It was such an intimate moment when she thinks back to it. While in the moment she was so drawn to him, like a magnet pulling them towards each other. Elizabeth would be lying if she said she didn't find Steve attractive, because anyone with eyes could see that. And she definitely would be lying if she said she hadn't wanted to kiss him.

Because Elizabeth Sanchez really wanted to kiss Steve Rogers last night.

What a mess that would've made. Kissing her ex-boyfriend's best friend. Her former best friend.

But then again, she and Bucky weren't together. They hadn't even talked since she left, and that conversation was a brief one. Bucky had stopped by to say bye and to let Elizabeth know he really appreciated the letter he sent her earlier in the year, and Elizabeth just explained she didn't want any negative feelings following her to college. She wished him well, and gave him a kiss on the cheek before she left.

Wanda walked into their room cutting Elizabeth's thoughts short.

"Ready?" Wanda asked, "Loki is waiting for us downstairs."

"Yup, let's go," Elizabeth said, she grabbed her carry on bag, one suitcase, while Wanda helped with the other one.

"Here we are," Loki says pulling in front of the drop off area at the airport.

"Thanks for the ride and everything this year," Elizabeth leaned over to give Loki a hug over the center console.

"Anytime kid, just make sure you come back to me," he winked, before getting out of the car to grab Elizabeth's bags from the trunk.

Elizabeth and Wanda hugged each other tightly once out of the car.

"It's not an official goodbye, we'll see each other sooner than we think," Elizabeth said into Wanda's hair.

"I know, I just got so used to having you around, what if I do something stupid?"

"I mean lets be real, you would do something stupid whether I'm there or not," she laughed.

"That's true," Wanda laughed along, pulling away from Elizabeth, "see you in a few weeks."

Elizabeth grabbed her things from Loki, and gave the group one final hug, "Love you guys," she said before walking away.

She turned around and gave them one final wave as they drove off.

Elizabeth checked in her bags and headed for her terminal.

Walking up to where her gate was she noticed a familiar blonde head waiting patiently.

"Hey stranger," she walked up to him.

"Hey," he smiled brightly, causing butterflies to flutter in Elizabeth's stomach.

She tried her hardest to ignore the feeling.

"I got you a coffee, it's still hot, I just got here not too long ago," Steve rambled, handing her a Starbucks cup.

"Ah you're a lifesaver, thank you," she smiled sitting down next to Steve, and taking a sip of her coffee.

Just how I like it, she thought.

"Ready to go back home?" He asked her.

"Yes, as much as I loved being here, I miss my bed," she laughed.

"Right," he agreed, "I can't wait to just crash for a few hours."

"I'm sure your mom is getting it all set up for you as we speak."

"Oh, yeah. She just texted me saying she's washing it as we speak," he laughed.

"How is your mom doing?"

"Good. She and dad actually just spent a month traveling around Europe," he tells her, "they finally had an 'empty nest' to do what they've always wanted to do."

"That sounds nice," Elizabeth smiles at the thought, "I hope to have that one day."

"Have you talked to Bucky lately?" Steve asked, taking not only Elizabeth by surprise but himself as well. He had no idea why he even asked that.

"Uh, no, not since I left last summer," she awkwardly said, scratching the back of her neck.

"Have you?" She asked.

Elizabeth didn't know why she asked Steve that question back. Part of her was curious, the other part was saving him from the embarrassment.

"Uh, yeah. Last night," he copied Elizabeth and rubbed the back of his head, "I was reminding him what time my plane landed. He's picking my up from the airport."

"He's been back home for a week now. Perks of going to school in New York."

"Yeah, I bet. No stress about if you're stuff will get lost on it's journey back," she joked, trying to break the awkward tension.

"So Thor told me he invited Wanda to his graduation," Steve changes the subject.

"Yeah! Her parents are flying in the next day, so she's probably going to go," she tell him, "How did you and Thor become friends?"

Elizabeth had been curious how that friendship started since Thor and Steve are not exactly on the same wavelength.

"Met him at the student gym," Steve laughs, "He saw me struggling and offered to help train me."

"As that's cute," she poked his bicep.

"Oh yeah, totally not embarrassing at all," he laughed along, "I was like a newborn deer learning how to walk."

"Well it paid off," she playfully nudged him, causing him to hide the blush forming on his cheeks.

Steve and Elizabeth continued to chat for the next hour, until it was time to board the plane. On the plane they wen their separate ways, they weren't so lucky to be seated close to one another.

Once they landed it was nearly five o'clock at night. They walked off the plane separately as well, once again like strangers.

Elizabeth would be lying if she said she wasn't rushing off in hopes of not running into Bucky. She knew she wouldn't be able to avoid him, she just dind't want to see him right here, right now.

She quickly made her way to baggage claim, where she was greeted by a familiar pair of eyes.

"Dad," she smiled throwing her arms around his neck.

"Elizabeth," he hugged his child tightly, "Welcome home sweetie,"

"Happy to be back," she smiled, pulling away. She caught his eye looking at something or someone behind her.

"Woah, is that Steve Rogers?" He asked.

She turned around to see Steve walking towards them, with is own carry on bags in hand.

"Steve," her father greeted him with his hand stood out.

"Mr. Sanchez, hi," Steve smiled shaking the older gentleman's hand.

"College treated you well," her father remarked.

"Dad," Elizabeth hissed, feeling her cheeks heat up at his comment.

"What? It's just an observation. I"m sure I'm not the only one who noticed," he gestured over to where two young girls are ogling Steve and giggling behind their hands.

"Thanks Mr. Sanchez," Steve blushed.

"Do you need a ride home?" Her dad offered.

"No, sir. Thank-you though," Steve politely declines, "Bucky is picking me up."

"Well don't be a stranger," her father waves goodbye as he heads to the conveyor belt to grab Elizabeth's bags.

"Bye," Elizabeth awkwardly waves.

"Wait," Steve stops her, "Maybe we can meet up some time this summer before we all head back to school."

"We as in you and me. Or as in you, me, and James?" She curiously asks.

"Of course, you, me and Bucky," he lies, "if that's alright with you. Not sure how things are still with you both."

"Things are you know, weird, but sure why not," she shrugged, "text me when and where."

They said their final goodbyes before parting ways.

Of course I meant with Bucky, right? He thought.

"Steven Grant Rogers?" He heard someone yell.

"Buck," he smiled, happy to see his best friend.

"Damn man, you got huge since I last saw you over the holidays," Bucky commented embracing Steve in a hug.

"It's not really much," he tried to brush it off.

"Dude you look like you ate the old you," he laughed.

"You just missed Liz," Steve said as he and Bucky walked to his car.

"Liz?" Bucky asked confused.

"Elizabeth. Sorry everyone calls her Liz at school," Steve says as he stops outside of Bucky's parked car.

"You guys hung out over there?" Bucky asks opening the trunk of his car.

"Just once," he says placing his suitcases in the trunk, "Remember that guy Thor I was telling you about?"

"Yeah, your personnel trainer," Bucky recalls walking over to the driver side, as Steve got in the passenger side.

Something in the passenger door pocket catches his eye.

"Well turns out Elizabeth is friends with his brother," Steve cautiously tells Bucky, "Ran into her at his party on Friday and we also were not he same flight back."

"Is she dating the guy?" Bucky begrudgingly asks, as he pulls away from he airport.

"Thor's brother? No," Steve says, unsure if he should even be telling Bucky about Elizabeth's new life, "I don't think she's dating anyone, she went to the party with her roommate."

"Cool," Bucky says pretending as if he isn't happy to hear that.

After a few moments of silence Steve decided to bring up what he saw, "So when did you start wearing red thongs?" He asked, gently pulling out the under by the tips of his fingers.

"Uh, you know college, all about experimenting," Bucky lied.

"Are you still planning on getting back with Elizabeth?" Steve ignored Bucky's answer.

"Steve, I don't need another lecture from you," Bucky rolled his eyes.

"I'm just asking, you're clearly not lonely."

"I'm single, so is Elizabeth," Bucky says, "If she were doing what I was it'd be perfectly fine."

"Buck, all I was doing was asking a question because if you are planning on getting back together with Elizabeth, you'll need to get rid of any incriminating evidence."

"Yes, okay. I plan on at least trying to see if Elizabeth would be willing to give it another try," he confesses.

"How is she?" Bucky asks.

"Happy," Steve answers truthfully, "I don't think I've ever seen her happier. College really did her well."

Bucky glanced over at Steve, noticing the way his best friend said the last part. He chose to ignore it.

The remainder of the car ride was spent on them catching up.

_____________________

Elizabeth spent the first couple of days unpacking her things and getting back into the rhythm of being home. She had to admit to herself that she truly did miss being home, her parents were even more thrilled. An empty home was not something they liked. They were even talking about getting a pet.

As she was putting away her freshly washed clothes, her phone vibrated. She had assumed it was Wanda freaking out over what to wear to Thor's graduation tomorrow night. She was surprised to see Steve's name across her screen.

It was a text:

Hey, if you're not busy tonight my parents are having a small BBQ. It's a last minute thing, so if you're free you're more than welcome to join. It starts at 6 :) She took a second to think it through. She knew if she went, there was no doubt that Bucky would be there. She had managed not to run into him so far, but she knew it wouldn't last forever. They did still live across the street from each other. So she texted back:

Hey Steve. I'm totally free. I'll be there :D

_____________________

Elizabeth took her time getting ready. As the time got closer, the more nervous she got.

Before she left she decided to call Wanda.

"I'm so nervous," she tells her friend.

"Take a shot," Wanda answered quickly.

"Dude, I"m home. My parents are definitely not going to let me 'take a shot'. Did you forget we are legally not supposed to," Elizabeth rolled her eyes looking around for her purse.

"Well are you wearing something hot, to show that idiot what he's missing."

"The last thing I want is to look 'hot'," Elizabeth stressed, "If anything I want to look as un hot as possible. I don't want him or anyone else here looking at me like that."

"Except for Steve," Wanda smirked over the phone.

"Yeah, except for Ste-" Elizabeth stopped, she was taken by surprise at what Wanda said and her own response, "No. Wait. What?"

"Oh come on Liz. I may have been slightly preoccupied by Thor that night, but Steve was definitely giving you the eyes," Wanda says, "And you were as well."

"The eyes?"

"Yeah, heart eyes," Wanda says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, "The same way I look at Thor. Or the way Scott and Loki look at each other."

"Wanda, Steve and I weren't looking at each other with heart eyes," Elizabeth denied, "He's one of my longest, closest friends. Plus he's practically Bucky's brother."

"So you thought about it?" Wanda teased.

"I called you to ease my nerves, not make them worse," Elizabeth groaned.

"Sorry," Wanda sincerely apologized, realizing she was being no help to her best friend, "Liz, everything is going to be fine tonight. If anything, all you need to do is be polite to James. Hell, you don't even need to talk to him.

"He's going to want to talk."

"Then keep it cordial, platonic," Wanda reassured her, "You don't have to tell him anything you don't want to. Your life is yours. Not his."

"In the words of Cristina Yang, 'You're the sun. Not him,'" Wanda said quoting one of their favorite shows.

"I'm the sun," Elizabeth repeated, feeling the weight slipping of her shoulders, "Thanks, Wan. I'll call you afterwards."

"Unless you and Steve are getting it on, then you can call me tomorrow."

"Bye," Elizabeth hung up the phone.

____________________

Elizabeth decided to walk the three blocks to the Rogers' household. It was a nice night, and she missed being able to walk everywhere. Something she definitely took for granted once she moved to the west coast.

When she got in front to the Rogers' house, she took one final inhale and exhale, gripping the platter of brownies her mom made as a gift. She the proceeded to walk to the side door, leading to the backyard where everyone was.

She didn't know why she was feeling so nervous. The Rogers weren't strangers. She practically grew up in this house. She knew not just Steve's parents, but his whole family, and they knew her. This would be just like visiting her own family, yet it wasn't. She didn't even really talk to Steve for almost a year.

As soon as she entered the backyard, she couldn't help but feel slightly out of place. She thought she could quickly turn back, no one had even noticed her arrival.

"Oh my gosh," she heard a woman's voice from across the yard, "Is that Elizabeth Sanchez?"

Elizabeth looked over to see Steve's mom, Sarah, rushing over with open arms. She was always so motherly. Elizabeth, welcomed her hug, hugging her back with one hand while the other one still clutched the container of brownies.

"Look at you," Sarah Rogers exclaimed, pulling away but keeping a grasp on Elizabeth's arms, taking her in, "College made such a fine young lady out of you."

Elizabeth couldn't help but to blush, she didn't think she looked that much different. If anything she had gained a few more pounds, and her hair was a bit of a mess, due to the New York humidity.

"Joseph, it's Elizabeth," she called out to her husband who was at the grill with one of Steve's uncles.

"My oh my, well isn't it little Elizabeth Sanchez, all grown up," he proudly smiled, hugging her.

Steve's parents were always so kind to her, like her parents they only had one child. She got the feeling that they saw her as another child, seeing as they were constantly feeding her throughout her youth.

"Your parents didn't come with you?" Joseph asked.

"No, they couldn't make it. They were driving up north to pick up my Grandma. But my mom did send these as an apology," Elizabeth held out the brownies.

"The famous Sanchez brownies," Sarah grabs the container, "Come on in sweetie, make yourself at home."

"Steve, Elizabeth is here," his mother calls into the yard.

Elizabeth looks in the direction his mother yelled into, and spotted Steve, who had a big smile on his face. He wasn't alone, he was with a few people they had went to high school with, and of course in the group was Bucky.

Elizabeth made her way to them all.

"You made it," Steve's smile got bigger, as he went to hug her.

"I told you I would," she said into his shoulder.

"Yeah, well," he pointedly said.

Steve didn't think Elizabeth would really come. He figured since she knew Bucky would be there, she would decide last minute to not go. He was very happy that she decided to not let that stop her. He couldn't help but watch her and she went around the group greeting the familiar faces. Then he felt someone staring at him, and turned to see Bucky watching him watch her.

Steve felt embarrassed when he caught the eyes of Bucky's looking right at him. He quickly played it off.

"Say hi," Steve mouthed to him.

Bucky hesitated for a second glancing back between Steve and Elizabeth. He felt sick. He's been waiting for this moment for awhile, and now all he wanted to do was to run away.

She looked different, the same but different. Steve was right, she seemed genuinely happy. College had brought this new aura to her, she was glowing. Bucky instantly felt guilty for all the pain he's caused her.

He felt a soft nudge to his right side, Steve pointed his head towards the girl that was standing in front of him.

"Uh hi," Bucky nervously said.

"Hi Bucky," she politely smiled.

She called him Bucky. She hadn't called him that since before senior year happened. Steve had mentioned that she had only called him James. He immediately relaxed.

"How have you been?" Elizabeth asked him.

"Good, I've been good," he stumbled over his words, "Yourself?"

"I've been really good," she smiled. This wasn't as bad as Elizabeth thought it's old be.

Before Bucky could respond, they heard a scream. They both turned to see an older Rebecca Barnes running towards them.

Rebecca was now 15 years-old. She came along way from being Bucky's little sister. Elizabeth had always seen Rebecca as the little sister she always wanted. When she and Bucky were dating she would often include Rebecca on their outings. She never wanted Rebecca to feel left out simply because she was the youngest.

After she and Bucky broke up, Elizabeth stopped seeing Rebecca as well. It was just too hard for her. Plus, it took her months to forgive Bucky.

"Rebecca," she laughed, as the young girl threw her arms around the older one.

"You look so good," Rebecca said, pulling away with a giant smile on her face. She no longer had braces, Elizabeth noted.

"Aw thanks, I see those braces finally came off."

"Yeah, just two weeks ago," she smiled even brighter.

Bucky couldn't help but watch the two girls catch up with smiles on their faces.

After they had broken up senior year Rebecca kept asking Bucky went to school in Brooklyn, Rebecca went to a science based school in Queens. She never heard the rumors, but Rebecca was smart and intuitive. When Natasha started coming around more, she put two and two together. She never told Bucky she knew the truth, she figured he was trying to protect her.

"How's California?" Rebecca asked, causing Bucky to tune back into their conversation.

"Amazing," Elizabeth smiled, "Stanford is everything I thought it would be and more. The people there are great as well."

"Any lucky person?"

Leave it to Rebecca to be nosey, Bucky thought.

"Nah," Elizabeth shook her head, "School has been my top priority. Being a pre-law major is a lot of work."

Elizabeth and Rebecca spent some time catching up before Rebecca left to go meet up with some friends in Queens.

"Do you want a drink?" Bucky asks her, holding up an unopened can of soda.

"Thank-you," she grabbed it. She took a look around to see that their group had left and were now mingling with other guests.

It was just her and Bucky in the corner of the yard.

"So," he said shifting on his feet.

"So," she opened the can of soda, causing a loud carbonation sound breaking the awkward silence.

"This is awkward," he nervously laughed.

"Just a little," she agreed.

"Listen-"

"It's all water under the bridge Bucky," Elizabeth interrupted him, "We aren't those people anymore. We're adults now. In college. I meant it when I wrote you that I wanted to move on from all of that. No hard feelings. Think we can do that without mentioning the past?"

"Yeah, I think we're could," he smiled.

"Good," she smiled back, and this time it wasn't a forced one.

"You really do look good," he complimented her, carefully watching her reaction.

"Thank-you," she blushed, looking down at her feet, "So do you. I see you've been following Steve's footsteps about going to the gym."

"Yeah," he blushed, scratching the back of his neck, "It's nothing compared to Steve's. The punk looks like he ate the old Steve. That Thor guy must be one hell of a trainer."

"Oh Thor, he's practically built like a God," Elizabeth giggles, "If you think Steve is big, Thor is a fucking planet."

Bucky laughed along with her.

"So how's school going?" Elizabeth asked him.

"Good actually," Bucky smiled, "I'm going to be taking some summer courses to get a jump start for next year."

"Perks of being so close to campus," she smiled, "Did you have good roommate?"

"Yeah, his name is Sam, he's also in the same Music Technology program as me," Bucky explained, "He's going to be visiting during summer, so hopefully you get a chance to meet him."

Everything was going smoothly throughout the night. Elizabeth found herself having a really great time. She even started to find herself missing Bucky while catching up with him.

She shook off the feeling. It had to be a natural way to feel, she and Bucky had known each other their whole lives, and this was their first time actually talking in over a year.

When the party was starting to dwindle down, Elizabeth felt it was the right time to go home.

"I'm going to get going," she said to Steve, going to hug him goodbye.

"Thanks for coming," he smiled into the hug, "Did you drive here?"

"No, I walked," she informs him, "One thing about the west coast, most things aren't in walking distance."

"Right, I suggested walking somewhere once to my roommate, and he looked at me like I was crazy," Steve laughed.

"Will you be alright walking on your own?" He asked.

"I've done it many times before," she said.

"Hey man, I'm gonna take off," Bucky walks over interrupting their conversation.

"Perfect, Liz was just leaving as well, maybe you can give her a ride," Steve suggested.

"Oh, I actually walked here," Bucky tells him.

"Even better, so did she," Steve smiled proudly.

"You okay with that?" Bucky turns to Elizabeth. He wanted to make sure he wasn't overstepping any invisible boundaries.

"Yeah, I mean we both are heading to practically the same location," she shrugs her shoulders.

Both of them finished saying their goodbyes and began their walk back home. This was the first time they've been alone in way over a year. No party or people to come join in on the conversations. Just Elizabeth and Bucky.

Elizabeth glanced up at the sky, as they walked. Brooklyn was abnormally quiet that night. I was so peaceful, she couldn't help but take it all in.

"I've missed Brooklyn," she says just above a whisper as to not disturb the peacefulness of the night.

"It's missed you," Bucky confesses looking right at her.

Elizabeth was taken back by his response, she glanced to her left to see Bucky staring right at her. She stopped walking. She couldn't pinpoint what she was feeling in that moment.

Bucky panicked, "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he apologized.

Elizabeth remained quiet. Trying to process it all. Whatever move she mad will have some sort of lasting affect on both of them.

"If you want to walk ahead I understand," he says, "I'll wait here for five minutes before I begin walking again."

Elizabeth stared into those sad blue eyes. The eyes that always found their way back to her. Maybe this time everything would be different, she thought.

"Elizabeth," Bucky quietly calls, carefully placing his hand on her's. She snapped out of her thoughts, and instantly laced her fingers through his.

"It's all good," she smiled giving his hand a reassuring squeeze, "Let's continue walking."

Bucky couldn't fight the smile growing on his face, as they continued to walk hand in hand.

Once they had reached Elizabeth's house, they stopped outside of the the gated yard.

"So," Bucky said as they stood outside the gate, still holding hands.

"So," Elizabeth smiled, subtly biting her lower lip, "Do you want to come inside for a bit? My parents won't be back until tomorrow morning."

Elizabeth had no idea what came over her to invite Bucky inside. She knew it wasn't a harmless invitation. They both knew what would happen once that front door closed.

"God, I'm going to regret this later," Bucky mumbled, causing Elizabeth to be confused.

"As much as I would love to go inside," he carefully began, "and trust me Elizabeth, there's nothing I would love more. I just have to say no."

"Oh," she said feeling utterly rejected. She wasn't expecting that response.

"Please don't take it as a rejection," he quickly said, grabbing her other hand, "I really want to give us another try. And in order for that to work, I think it's best if we don't rush into it. Because we both know once that door closes, taking our time will go right out the window. And I don't want to screw this up, again.

"I love you, Elizabeth. I never stopped. So please, please know I want to prove to you how much I love you by taking our time. Getting to re-know these new versions of ourselves."

Elizabeth was shocked. Not in a bad way. Bucky has really grown up this past year. Everything he was saying made sense. Yet she still couldn't help but feel sort of disappointed.

"Okay," she smiled, "You're right let's take this slow. Start fresh."

"Thank-you for understanding," he smiled, proud of himself for having some willpower, "Can I take you out tomorrow night?"

"Yes, I would like that."

"Does seven work for you?"

"Seven is good," she nodded her head.

"Perfect, I'll see you at seven," he kissed her cheek before dropping her hands and walking across the street to his own house.

Elizabeth went inside and headed to her own bedroom. She flopped down onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She pulled out red phone and immediately called Wanda, placing the phone on speaker and putting it next to her head on her pillow.

"You're not getting laid," Wanda greeted.

"Hey, I tried," Wanda defended.

"Wait, really?" Wanda sounded surprised, "You tried having sex with Steve?"

"Not with Steve," she hesitated for a second.

"Please don't tell me," Wanda groaned already knowing who she was talking about.

Elizabeth remained silent.

"Did you try to have sex with James?" Wanda asked needing verbal confirmation.

"Yes," Elizabeth admitted, "Everything went great at Steve's. Bucky and I spent most the night catching up and just talking. It made me realize how much I missed him. Also wan't bad that he somehow got better in the last year. We then walked home together, and when we got to my house, I invited him inside."

"Look at you taking initiative!" Wanda cheered.

"Yeah, well I didn't have the lucky red dress to take it all the way."

"What happened?"

"He turned me down," Elizabeth confessed.

"What?" Wanda yelled, "He turned you down!"

"He actually had a good reasoning for turning me down."

"Which was?"

"He wants to take this slow," Elizabeth tells her, "He said he wants us to get reacquainted with each other. Get to know who we are now, as oppose to who we were. He doesn't want to ruin it."

"I mean it does make sense."

"He also might've said he still loves me," Elizabeth quietly said the last part.

"He still loves you?" Wanda gasped.

"Yeah."

"How do you feel about that?" Wanda curiously asks.

"Honestly," Elizabeth pauses, trying to get her thoughts under control, "It made me happy to hear."

"Do you still love him?"

"Yes?" Elizabeth said unsure, "Based on the way I felt tonight? Yes I still do."

"Based on before tonight?" Elizabeth questioned.

"I always kept Bucky in the farthest corner of my mind. You know," she says, "He had hurt me so bad that after I forgives him, I just kind of wanted to move on from it all.

"I didn't want to take that kind of energy with me to Stanford. But once I was back, here in Brooklyn, all these feelings kept creeping back. And I don't know if it's cause I'm back home, and it's this familiar type of love. Bucky was always my comfort. He played such a big part of my life. The good, and the bad. How does one forget all that?"

"Is it a bad thing to say that I knew he'd come back to me?" Elizabeth expresses.

There was a pause on the other side of the phone.

"No," Wanda finally spoke, "What you two had isn't something that can be easily erased. But..."

"But?"

"I know you've said you've forgive him for cheating on you," Wanda says, "and I do believe that you have. But do yo think you can actually put that behind you once everything starts back up again. Will you be able to look at him as your partner and not second guess whatever he tells you.

"And I don't meat to be harsh here, but I also think it's important to be realistic about it all. Because when summer ends you'll be back here, at Stanford. While Bucky stays there."

Elizabeth takes a moment to think through everything Wanda has said. She knows what she's saying isn't without reasons. Elizabeth had told Wanda everything that had happened, so of course she was only looking out for Elizabeth.

But the Bucky Elizabeth saw tonight was definitely not the Bucky she had left last fall. And it might be naive of her to think, but she knew him. She knew he wasn't a bad person. Even good people make mistakes. She knew she should have to do this for herself, no matter how many people thought it was a bad idea.

"I don't want him to haunt all of my 'what ifs'," she spoke, "This is something that I have to give another shot. Even after everything he's put me through, I do still love him Wanda. I can't just give up this chance at love."

"Like I said before, this is your life," Wanda says, "You gotta do what's best for you and only you know what that is. And you know I will always be here for you. You're stuck with me for life."

Elizabeth had never felt more relieved, she knew she didn't need Wanda's blessing, but to have it was nice.

___________________

Over the next month, Elizabeth and Bucky had been on many dates. This whole getting to know each other again was going really well. They had also both agreed not to be exclusive. It didn't make sense to rush into putting a label on it.

After the first two weeks they both started to get busy. Bucky was taking three fast track classes during the summer, so he was busty during the week, going from school then back home.

Elizabeth had gotten a summer job at a dental office. She was hired to help with scheduling appointments, and filing paperwork. The job paid more than any usual summer job an almost 19 year-old with hardly no experience could get. She had previously tutored for the doctor who owned it kids. So when she heard Elizabeth was looking for a job, she offered it to her on the spot.

She couldn't complain, yes some days were longer than others, but the money was good and she had the weekends off, which now were the only times she and Bucky were able to see each other.

It was another long day of work, and Elizabeth had spent the day dealing with unruly patients. All she wanted to do was take a bath, have pizza, and crash. But she then remembered she and Bucky had a date planned for that evening. She glanced at the clock on the wall. He would be here in an hour.

As much as she wanted to go out, she really didn't have the energy to. Plush, she didn't really want to see anyone.

She pressed the call icon next to Bucky's name on her phone.

"Hey Liz," he greeted. Bucky and everyone else back home had gotten into the habit of calling her by her new 'grown-up' nickname.

"Please don't be upset," she says.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Is it alright if we reschedule tonight's date," she says, "I just got home from work and I had a long day of dealing with rude people."

"Yeah of course," he tells her, he could hear just how exhausted she was, "Do you want me to bring over some food? We could could always have a night in."

"Thanks Buck, but I really just want to be along for the night," she tells him as she made her way into her room, "Is that okay?"

"Of course," he assured her, "I completely understand. I think Steve has the night off anyways, so think I'll head to his place for the night. Do you want to grab some lunch tomorrow during your lunch break?"

"That sounds perfect," she smiled, "Thanks again Buck."

"No worries. Have a good night."

"You too, tell Steve I said hi," she hung up the phone.

As she went to go put her bag down on her desk, her phone began to ring.

"Hey Wanda," she tiredly greeted her friend.

"Hey, everything okay?" Wanda asked, immediately sensing Elizabeth's mood.

"Just a long day, what's up?" She yawned.

"Just calling to ask you something."

"What's that?"

"You can say no first of all," Wanda clarified, "So I just got off of the phone with Thor and i was telling him about how I will be visiting you next week or the 4th of July, and well he kind of asked if he can come to New York as well."

"Oh," Elizabeth said, not expecting to hear that, "Are you asking for my permission, if your boyfriend can come?"

"Not my boyfriend, yet" Wanda sighs, "But yes. I guess he was also talking to Steve about visiting. He won't need to stay at your place either."

"Wanda, you don't have to ask me," Elizabeth assures her, "If Thor wants to come visit, he's more than welcomed to. I don't mind at all. Plus it'll be nice to see him."

"Oh, thank god," Wanda sighed in relief, "I just didn't want you to think that I don't want to spend time with you, because I do. I just don't want to be one of those girls that sneakily brings her boyfriend on a girl's trip. But don't worry, Thor is going to be doing his own thing with Steve. I am all your's for the weekend.

"Wanda it's okay. I know you aren't one of those girls. If you do become one of them, I'll make sure to save you."

"You're the best Liz," Wanda smiled, "Wait don't you have a date with Bucky tonight?"

"Not anymore, I cancelled," she says, "Too tired, Just want food and sleep."

"Ahh well, I'll let you go, enjoy your food and sleep, and I'll see you next week."

Elizabeth hung up the phone and decided to take advantage of the quiet house and take a bath before her parents got home from work.

As she entered her room, wearing a robe and her hair up in a towel, her phone began to ring.

"So much for a quiet time," she sighed, picking up the phone.

"Hey Steve what's up?"

"Sorry to bother you, I know you've had along day at work, but Bucky just bailed on me, something to do with Rebecca," he tells her, "And I'm outside of his house with a large pizza, and I don't want it to go to waste."

The other line went dead, Steve looked down at his phone to see that Elizabeth had hung up the phone. He hesitated for a second, thinking he should've just went home. As he was about to start his car up again, he heard his name being called. He looked across the street to find Elizabeth standing in her front door, in nothing but a robe.

"It better be a pepperoni pizza," she called out.

He laughed, and got out of his car with the large pizza in hand, "Only the best kind."

She moved out of the way to let him into the house, and lead him into the living room.

"Okay I'm going to head upstairs and put some clothes on," she says, "Make yourself at home, you know where everything is at."

"Sorry again about the drop in," Steve apologized once Elizabeth came back down with a fresh pair of clothes and hair brushed through.

"No worries, sorry Bucky bailed," she said sitting down next to Steve on the couch, "But his loss, is my pizza gain."

They spent the next hour devouring the pizza and watching a movie.

"So I hear Thor is visiting next week," she says, as she places her empty plate inside the empty pizza box, before making herself comfortable on the couch.

"Yeah, actually I wanted to talk to you about that," Steve says adjusting himself to face Elizabeth to his right, "Thor's parents have a house in the Hampton's, and they said we could use it for the 4th of July weekend. Not sure if you and Wanda already had plans, but you guys are more than welcome to join us."

"That sounds like a lot of fun. I'm sure Wanda wouldn't mind either," she smiled, "Plus I have never been to the Hamptons."

"Then it's settled, weekend at the Hamptons," Steve smiled, "I believe Loki and Scott will be joining us as well. Bucky is also inviting his roommate Sam, and I was planning on inviting some of the kids we went to school with."

"Sounds like a party."

____________________

Elizabeth and Wanda drove up to East Hampton together. The boys drove up the night before to get everything set up.

"So how are things between you and Bucky?" Wanda asked lowering down the volume.

"Things have been okay," Elizabeth sighed, as she kept her eyes ahead as she drove.

"Just okay?" Wanda asked, "A month ago you couldn't stop talking about him. What changed?"

"We haven't had much time together the last week or so," Elizabeth says, "and he's been cancelling a lot on me this past week."

"Did you say he was taking summer courses?"

"Yeah," Elizabeth nodded.

"Then he's probably just busy," Wanda reassures her, "Now, look at it this way. You'll have four days to catch up. Plus, you'll have the lucky red dress."

"We're taking it slow, remember?"

"It's been a month and a half. Have you guys even kissed?" Wanda playfully joked.

"He wants to take it slow," Elizabeth quietly repeated.

"Wait!" Wanda yelled startling Elizabeth.

"Geez Wan, I'm driving!"

"You guys haven't even kissed yet!"

"He wants to take it slow!" Elizabeth yelled back.

"There's slow and then there's being a fucking nun. Is he a nun?"

"I don't know what you want me to say. It's not for lack of trying," Elizabeth stressed, "I've tried. Believe me, I've tried."

Wanda remained quiet, causing Elizabeth to get an unsettling feeling in her stomach.

"Why are you so quiet? You're never this quiet. Ever."

"I'm just thinking," Wanda says.

"Well please do share your thoughts."

"You guys haven't even kissed, does that not worry you?"

"Yes," Elizabeth confessed, "Of course it does."

"Do you think," Wanda pauses, "Now don't freak out when I ask this because we don't want to die, and we also don't know what's going on. But do you think he's seeing someone else?"

"I haven't even thought of that," Elizabeth says.

Wanda glances over and notices the far off look in Elizabeth's eyes.

"You know what, that wasn't a logical explanation," Wanda says trying to bring back her spiraling friend, "I'm sure Bucky is just busy."

"Yeah," Elizabeth agreed, but not really believing any of it.

____________________________

The girls arrived to the house an hour later, it was barely going to be noon. The rest of their car ride was no longer filled with talks of relationships, but just spent listening to music, and discussing plans for their new apartment. When they pulled up, they were in awe of the beautiful house. There was already two cars in the driveway, one belonging to Steve, and the other must've been Loki's rental. "How much money do those Odinsons have?" Wanda stated looking up at the house. The house was a white modern looking two-story farmhouse. The two car drive way, looked like a mini version of the house. It looked homey. "You're here!" They heard a booming voice yell, as they exited the car. They looked up to the front door to see Thor fast walking his way over to them. He quickly made his way to Wanda and took both girls by surprise by picking her up and kissing her. At least someone's getting kissed, Elizabeth thought smiling at how happy her best friend looked. "Hello to you too," Wanda smiled, once they pulled apart. "I've missed you," he grinned, placing her down gently, "Hi Elizabeth." "Hi Thor, nice to see you," she greeted him, as she opened the trunk of her car to get the bags out. "Here let me get those," he said, grabbing both suitcases from the trunk, "The boys are out back in the pool." Thor showed both girls to their room first before walking them out to the back to greet the rest of the boys. "Lizzy! Wanda!" Loki shouted, running over to both girls and throwing his arms around them both. "Finally some estrogen to balance out all of this testosterone," he whispered in their ears, causing both girls to giggle. Once they pulled apart they were greeted by Loki's boyfriend Scott Lang. "Hi Scott," both girls greeted, hugging him as well. Elizabeth looked past the patio area to the backyard, where the pool was placed in the middle of nothing but grass. A typical Hamptons backyard. She saw Steve, Bucky, and who she assumed to be Bucky's roommate Sam, emerging from the pool. "Hey, you guys made it," Steve smiled. "All in one piece." "Barely," Wanda whispered to Loki. "This is Wanda, my roommate from Stanford," she introduced, "Not sure if you met back then. Wanda this is Steve, and Bucky, and Sam, right?" "Correct," Sam answered extending his arm out to shake their hands, "Sam Wilson, the person who's had to put up with Bucky for almost a year." Elizabeth laughed, "So sorry you've had to deal with that." "Ha ha funny," Bucky rolled his eyes, shaking Wanda's hand. He looked over at Elizabeth about to go in for a hug, but stopping once he realized he was wet from the pool. He gave her a smile, and she returned it. "Oh, I forgot. Happy birthday Steve," Elizabeth announced, "I would hug you but your wet." "Thanks, Liz," he smiled. Elizabeth glanced over at Wanda who was raising her eyebrows teasingly. Elizabeth shook her head. "So what time is everyone arriving?" She asks. "We told everyone two," Loki said, "the catering staff should be hear soon. "Catering?" Wanda asked. "Our parents insisted, seeing as last time Thor tried to have a barbecue he almost burned down the house," Loki explains to them. "He's pretty and smart, he doesn't have to cook," Wanda defended him, "Also helps that he has a big di-" "Okay," Elizabeth clapped her hands interrupting Wanda from finishing that sentence, "We're going to go get ready." "We'll join you," Loki said, with Scott behind him following the girls upstairs to their shared room. "So that's Bucky?" Loki asked, throwing himself onto one of the beds while Scott closed the door behind them. "Yup." "He's hot," Scott stated. "Don't start fawning over him," Wanda raises her hand, "He hasn't even kissed her yet." "What?" Loki and Scott gasped. "Are you going to be telling everyone that?" Elizabeth asked, heading into the en-suite bathroom. "You brought the red dress right?" Scott asked Wanda, already knowing all about her lucky red dress. "Yes, nobody worry," Wanda says pulling out the red dress, "Our dear sweet Lizzy will be getting at least some action tonight. Even if it's the bare minimum."

__________________________

The party was going great, everyone had invited a mixture of friends. Some were from Elizabeth's high school, some of them had grown up with Thor and Loki. It was a good mix of people. And everyone was having a great time.

In the car ride Elizabeth had been nervous after her conversation with Wanda about Bucky, but all those worries went away once she had made her way back down after getting ready.

Bucky hadn't left her side, since then, and he was being more openly affectionate than before. There was still no kiss, but Elizabeth didn't have a doubt in her mind the night wouldn't be ending without one, maybe even a little more.

Thank you lucky red dress.

It was around eight pm when Thor suggested they start doing the fireworks, everyone in the neighborhood had started to as well. So everyone made their way into the front yard, some in chairs, some on the grass, and some just standing around.

Elizabeth was sitting on the lawn, looking up at the lit up sky. She looked to her right to see Steve admiring all the colors, she softly smiled at him and the way he looked so content and happy.

She looked to her left to find the spot Bucky was just at a minute ago empty. She took a quick look around and couldn't see him, she shrugged it off just assuming he was somewhere nearby or in the house. She knew he had difficulties with large crowds and sometimes he just needed to step away.

After twenty minutes, Bucky still wasn't back.

"Hey Steve, I'll be back, I'm going to go check on Bucky," she tells him before heading back into the house.

The house was quiet, since everyone was outside watching the fireworks. She checked the back and all of downstairs but couldn't find Bucky, even the catering crew were outside watching the fireworks.

Elizabeth headed upstairs, thinking Bucky probably went to find peace in his room. Bucky and Sam were sharing a room for the weekend, it was the first one to the right once you reached the top of the stairs.

As soon as Elizabeth reached the final step, the bedroom door opened up. She smiled thinking Bucky was going to walk out, but the smile dropped when she was greeted by not Bucky but Natasha Romanoff walking out.

Natasha hadn't noticed Elizabeth yet, she was smiling at the person walking out right behind her.

Bucky had a huge grin on his face, his hair was a mess and so was Natasha's. His smiled instantly dropped and his eyes widen once he noticed Elizabeth frozen at the top of the stairs.

So much for a lucky dress...

85 notes · View notes

bring-it-all-down · 4 years ago

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I’d like to talk a little bit about why I think Black Sails, while definitely tragic, is NOT a tragedy. Rather, I think that Black Sails ultimately is more hopeful than tragic.

The literary conception of tragedy is divided into two types, Greek and Shakespearean. I’m in no way an expert on tragedy, but broadly speaking, in Greek tragedy, the plot must have unity (it must have a clear beginning, middle, and end) in order for the audience to reach some sort of emotional catharsis. Most importantly, though, the plot must be driven by a character’s pointless struggle to avoid their fate brought on by their hubris (an attempt to become like a god), which has been predetermined (largely from prophesies) and from which they cannot escape. For instance, everything Oedipus attempts to do to escape his fate of killing his father and marrying his mother only draws him closer to that fate.

Shakespearean tragedy, on the other hand, has a less clear beginning and plot, including many subplots that take place over a much longer period of time: it lacks the Greek elements of unity of plot, time, and place. Furthermore, the struggle is driven not by divine prophecy but by a character’s struggle between good and evil; the character is doomed not by an external power but by an internal failing. Thus, while the tragic hero in Greek plays gains full knowledge of the situation by the end, the Shakespearean tragic hero rarely gains self-knowledge. In essence, Greek tragedy is more plot-focused and Shakespearean tragedy is more character-focused.

Although Black Sails has a predetermined end thanks to both Treasure Island and the historical context of piracy, if it was to be a tragedy, it would be a Shakespearean tragedy, not a Greek tragedy. The plot is complex, focusing on a number of characters, and is driven largely by the characters’ internal struggles. However, the show differs in several key ways that ultimately prevent it from being a full tragedy.

Most importantly, Black Sails lacks a real tragic hero, who in Shakespearean tragedy is somebody well-regarded––often a member of the nobility––who is fundamentally a good person, but whose fatal flaw leads to his downfall and the downfall of society at large. As Tom McAlindon puts it in his article, “What is Shakespearean Tragedy?”:

The hero’s fall involves a self-betrayal or loss of identity which constitutes the breakdown in the balance of a richly-endowed nature, one in which feeling is so powerful that it is never far from the point of destructive excess...loosely speaking, then, anger and ambition (including pride, a sense of honor, and the desire for glory), and, on the other hand, love and grief, are the passions whose overflow brings disaster; and it should be stressed that the first pair are to be seen in as positive a light as the second (9-10).

This tragic hero frequently wants to do good, but is blind to the truth of reality, and his initial errors in judgment due to this blindness compound over time, leading to his destruction. Throughout this decline, the ‘hero’ status is maintained through a constant reminder of the environment in which the tragic hero exists; Othello’s paranoia, for instance, is in part a product of the racism in Venetian society. Furthermore, the tragic hero is always juxtaposed by a manipulative figure who knowingly attempts to rouse the hero’s passions for his own gain.

In Black Sails, the person who most closely matches this description is Flint, a high-ranking pirate who commands the respect of his inferiors. Flint certainly is driven by some continuously shifting combination of ambition, love, and grief. His entire project is one dedicated to honoring Thomas’s memory, but it’s also very true that Flint enjoys being in power. He relishes the opportunity to take back command of the Walrus from Dufresne, and as much as he sees his crew as men rather than animals, he absolutely believes himself superior to them. His penchant for murdering those who stand in his way is constantly justified to us through reminders that civilization is even more violent and less discriminating in its use of violence. Furthermore, he is manipulated at times by Silver (though the extent of each other’s knowledge of this is questionable).

This brings us to the question of Flint’s fatal flaw. Unlike with Shakespearean tragic heroes (Romeo’s impulsiveness, Hamlet’s indecision, Macbeth’s ambition), it’s hard to pinpoint a singular flaw for Flint. To be sure, the guy has many flaws: his arrogance, his reticence to trust people, his anger, etc. But it’s difficult to pick out a singular flaw that leads to his demise. In fact, it’s perhaps his abandonment of these flaws that results in his death (“Flint” died, regardless of how you interpret the ending). He trusts Silver, he humbles himself enough to believe himself unworthy of overseeing a post-revolutionary world alongside Madi and Silver, and it’s his love in place of anger that makes it impossible for him to kill Silver. So, ultimately, his fatal flaw is trusting Silver too much, but this is not a flaw that is inherent to him, that he had even from their first meeting.

A second way in which Black Sails differs from Shakespearean tragedy also concerns the ending. In Shakespearean tragedies, the reciprocal relationship between the disordered tragic hero and the disordered society in which he exists comes to and end with the hero’s demise, and a new orderly society springs up in its place. In Macbeth, Malcolm becomes king, ushering in an era of benevolence; in Othello, Iago receives a fitting punishment, thereby restoring some sense of justice; etc. In essence, the tragic hero’s death results in the end of conflict and the beginning of peace.

In one sense, Black Sails follows this plot. The end of Flint brings about the end of war and the beginning of peace in Nassau under Max’s rule. However, we know that this peace is deeply unsatisfactory because we have come to learn that compromising with civilization is actually impossible. We learn that while the Maroons have a peace treaty, it does not extend to any other freed Black person, and it includes the Maroons re-enslaving people who come to them for freedom. We know through historical context that Jack and Anne only have a few more years of freedom before they’re captured and Jack is hanged. We know that Silver spends the rest of his life haunted by what he did to Flint. And so Flint’s death brings about no actual peace.

The key element that prevents Black Sails from being a Shakespearean tragedy, despite it fitting most of the typical components of a Shakespearean tragedy, is the idea that the central conflict––freedom vs. civilization––extends beyond the show. And so we are aware that no character’s actions will actually affect the conflict in a monumental way. Even though there is the idea that it could have ended differently, we know from the beginning, with our historical knowledge, that the revolution is doomed. The central conflict of the show is an ongoing conflict; there is no possibility of reconciliation as with the Montagues and the Capulets. While all Shakespearean tragedies begin in medias res, they have a definite conclusion, but Black Sails does not.

So, Black Sails is not a Shakespearean tragedy, but on its surface, it looks like it’s incredibly tragic. However, I think that, for all of the reasons I just talked about, Black Sails is actually a show about hope. Flint’s arc demonstrates to us that people can change, that hope can be found in a mutual recognition of suffering and a desire to end that suffering not just for yourself but for others. We learn from Max that nothing is worth doing unless it begins and ends with love. We find a deep sense of familiarity in these characters through the recognition that their battles are our battles, that their flaws are our flaws, but their failure does not have to be our failure.

Unlike with Macbeth or Othello or Romeo and Juliet, the Black Sails story is still being written and so long as that is the case, there is room for hope.

#black sails #I suppose there's an argument to be made that Flint's relationship with Silver is akin to his relationship with Admiral Hennessy #in terms of misplaced trust #But it's difficult to extract this into some statement of his penchant for trusting the wrong people because he often trusts the right peopl #like Thomas and Madi #So it's a tricky one

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gypsydanger01 · 4 years ago

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THE STORM - Part ten

Fandom: The Boys (Amazon prime tv series)

Pairing: Black Noir x OC

Disclaimer: I don’t own The Boys, only my OC characters and certain pieces of au plot.

Comments, reviews, constructive criticism, and other requests are always more than welcome!

Posting new chapters on Wednesday and Friday!

Die Hard and stolen glances

After making sure Sarah ate a hearty lunch, Martha took her leave, worry still lingering in her eyes. She’d made her friend promise to call Mallory as soon as possible. Sarah decided she’d contact her tomorrow at their usual time. And while she always looked forward to talking with the woman who’d raised her through her teen years, she felt dread creep up at the thought of having to either lie or tell her the truth and deal with the consequences. Telling Mallory her abilities had resurfaced would be equivalent to purchasing a ticket back home. And that was the one thing she could not do. Not until this situation with Vought was resolved.

Putting those thoughts to rest, her mind moved onto the other pressing concern: her upcoming movie night with Black Noir. It felt silly to think—even more when said out lout, but they bonded over their love for action movies. She shrugged her coat on and wrapped a scarf loosely around her neck before heading out of the house. The neighborhood she lived in wasn’t extremely well kept and trash often littered the sidewalks, clustering in the corners. She’d been skeptical when the previous owner had given her a tour. However, she soon realized she didn’t mind, and the affordable price and relatively quiet environment ultimately won her over. Being right outside of the city, the housing complexes were low rise, about two floors high, some three. She had a view on the city and could easily access the university on her bike. Sure, it took about fifteen minutes, but the peace and absence of the city’s obnoxious traffic in that small, rundown neighborhood made it worth it.

She soon reached her destination: the nearest small shop, “Dave’s Grocers.” Immediately, she headed for the party necessities section, searching for straws amid the colorful shelves. She soon grew impatient, scanning the items multiple times.

“Hello, welcome to Dave’s Grocers,” a young employee greeted her. “Is there anything I can I help you with?”

“Hi, yeah actually I’m looking for straws,” she glanced back at the shelves, “but I can’t seem to find any.”

The young man—whose name tag read Bernard in a squiggly handwriting—looked through the shelves himself before confirming her suspicions.

“I can check in the back if we had anything come in,” he offered.

“Yeah that would be great, thank you.”

With that she followed him and waited at the front counter as he disappeared into the back. He soon returned with a box in his arms.

“I found a box of them,” he smiled genuinely. He set the box down and opened it up.

The first thing that registered in Sarah’s mind was, “They’re pink.” She looked to him for confirmation.

“Magenta to be precise.”

She pushed some of her hair behind her ears. Black Noir had refused a drink last time because he wouldn’t take his mask off. She figured that by offering him a strawed drink, he’d accept it. She was sure she’d seen him drinking from a straw before, either in passing at Vought or on television. She wanted it to be a thoughtful act, and here she was thinking of offering him a pink straw.

Sure, it was just a color, right? Their generation was past binary color preferences—pink for girls, blue for boys. They were over it, right? A lot of men see no issue in wearing pink or purple these days. But Black Noir was no ordinary man.

What was initial horror, soon morphed into amusement. She became curious of his reaction.

“How much” she questioned, eyes glued to the intensely colored straws.

“Uh,” he checked the side of the cardboard to be sure, “a dollar and fifty cents for a pack of twenty.”

She nodded, making up her mind, “I’ll take one.”

After paying he asked her to hold up, scratching the back of his neck.

“Could I get your number?”

She eyed him in suspicion, the man from the previous night flashing in front of her eyes. But then she quickly softened. He’d been helpful and seemed like a sweet guy.

“Look, I’m sorry but I’m seeing someone,” she slightly twisted the truth.

“Ahh, should’ve known,” he looked down with a disappointed smile. “He a good guy,” he asked.

Sarah wanted to choke right there. He’s Edgar’s damn hitman and has probably killed more people than she could count.

She simplified her answer with, “Yeah, he’s great,” she held up the straws, “these are actually for him.”

Bernard laughed lightly, “Bold. That’s why you looked worried when you first saw them, huh?”

She chuckled, “Yeah, he’s in for a surprise.”

After waving goodbye, she took her leave and headed back home.

When eight o’clock rolled around, Sarah was ready. She’d fixed her hair, her dark brown coils forming a soft cloud over her shoulders. A light coat of mascara was what she settled for, deciding to forego any other makeup. This was a casual meeting between two people who were barely acquaintances, she reminded herself. She changed into comfy clothes, slipping on her best pair of black sweatpants with a matching sweatshirt. Soft socks were a must.

Finally, she made sure her necklace poked out of her top. It had been her mother’s, who’d passed it down to her when she’d first been hospitalized. It was meant as a reminder that her parents were always with her and that they’d fight her disease together. It was a symbol of hope. Now, it was a small piece of her parents she kept on her always. Sometimes, it gave her a sense of peace as she recalled memories of family dinners or the playground. Other times, it fueled the guilt and deep-seated hate she felt towards the institution that made her into the monster she is. She fiddled with the black pearl, crowned by a gold fringe.

Heading back into the living room, she planned to wait for him on the couch. And there he was, standing in the middle of her living room.

This time she didn’t jump or freeze, already growing accustomed to his sudden appearances. She was grounded, she refused to be afraid. She thought it was foolish to not fear such a dangerous threat. So, she acknowledged it, but left it in a corner of her mind where she could see it but deny it control of her actions or reactions.

“Hey,” she greeted nodding at him, “how are you,” she asked.

He nodded at her and she quickly handed over their black notebook for him to reply.

Fine. You

She smiled, “I’m doing okay.”

He watched her movements, fluid and more controlled than last time. What he’d witnessed the night before had given him a new perspective, and he desperately wanted to question her about what happened. But at that point, he’d be admitting himself as a stalker. He stayed silent.

She nodded towards the couch, “You can sit, the movie’s already in,” she said turning her television on. “I made some popcorn, I’m not sure if you wanted to eat anything.”

He sat and simply watched her. Sarah ducked into the kitchen before she ended up losing her confidence. She emerged with a big bowl of popcorn, inhaling the smell, and humming a tune. She set the bowl on the coffee table, glancing at the massive man before heading back into the kitchen to get their drinks.

“So please bear with me,” she said moving towards him with the two drinks behind her back. “I know you aren’t comfortable with pulling your mask, so I went and got something to help with that…” she trailed off.

He tilted his head slightly, and she imagined an inquisitive expression had formed on his face.

She moved the drinks to the front, careful to not spill any.

“I know the straws are bold…” she stated the obvious. “Would you like some?”

He assessed the situation—the straws, the soft blush on her cheeks, her frame engulfed by her sweatshirt. And he found himself nodding, if only to put her at ease. He was unexpectedly moved by her thoughtfulness, a tightness forming in his chest.

She exhaled the breath she’d been holding, “Great, here you go,” she said brightly.

She grabbed a throw blanket to wrap herself in and moved towards the other couch chair in the room. He frowned. She was cold? She looked so much smaller in her home clothes, and he felt an itch to gather her in his arms. He ran at a higher temperature anyway, he’d probably feel like a thermostat to her.

“Do you want a blanket?”

He blinked at her, and she too found it amusing that this massive dark man might want one of her small light blue covers.

He shook his head. I’m fine and followed it with a thumbs up.

She nodded and snuggled into the chair, diagonally to his right.

She grabbed the remote and pointed it to the screen, pressing play.

And so, they watched the movie, constantly exchanging hurried, shy glances. Once, she was watching him out of the corner of her eye, and she saw him discreetly lift his mask, pick some popcorn and drop them in his mouth. He immediately covered his face again and chewed without making a sound. She was disappointed that in the dark she missed it. At one point, Sarah was surprised to see his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. She too laughed, and often commented her favorite scenes. She hoped he didn’t mind. She just couldn’t seem to help herself. And he secretly loved it. He enjoyed her voice, especially when she was talking to him.

He watched her snuggle deep under the blanket, her sweatshirt sleeves pulled over her hands. He watched her laugh and comment the scenes they both knew by heart. In the dark room, he watched her more than the movie itself. The colored light projecting from the screen flitted across her cheeks, her attention captured by John McClane as he took down Gruber’s team in the Nakatomi Tower.

Black Noir was rather disappointed when the credits rolled and she rose to switch the lights back on. He perked up when she spoke, “Always a classic, huh?”

He nodded with enthusiasm.

She recited with a deeper voice, “Nine million terrorists in the world and I gotta kill one with feet smaller than my sister.”

Sarah was pleasantly surprised when he clapped his hands and wrote Bravo.

She curtsied, “Why thank you.”

She must be losing her mind, joking around with one of the most dangerous men in the world. And yet, right then she couldn’t bring herself to fear him. Black Noir was still holding his drink, hot pink straw sticking out like a sore thumb.

She took the last sip of her own drink, and embarrassedly stopped when she began to slurp loudly.

“Oh god, sorry. My friend absolutely hates it when I do that.”

He looked over as she brought her legs up into a cross-legged position. And then he did something that surprised them both.

He gave her a thumbs up and loudly sucked on his straw, emitting the same sounds she’d just made. Sarah stared wide-eyed and began to laugh.

He wrote. Sorry :)

“We’re both scandalous—just scandalous,” she smiled.

She gathered their empty cups, but he stopped her before she could get up. She looked so comfortable and he swiftly stood and placed a hand on her shoulder, indicating she should stay seated. Sarah looked up at him shocked and suddenly reminded of his murderous tendencies. He gently took the cups from her hands and immediately went to wash them in her kitchen sink. He felt rather than saw her enter the small kitchen leaning her back against the counter beside him, watching him work. He stilled and she quickly realized why, his big, dark gloves left on the counter.

She felt like they had entered a bubble, a very unstable bubble that could burst at any second.

She whispered softly, “It’s okay, you don’t have to hide here.”

He stared down in the now empty sink. He finally brought his hands up and over the edge, slowly reaching for the gloves. His skin was a toffee brown, his long fingers rough and calloused. She felt the sudden urge to reach out and touch him, assure herself that indeed there is a man under the suit. She quickly swallowed the thought and filed it away.

He looked at her and she held his concealed gaze for a few, long seconds. She wondered what thoughts were whizzing across his brain.

“Who knows what you look like?”

He merely stared at her. She tried, “Anyone?”

He shook his head no.

She continued speaking softly, finally looking away. “But isn’t that lonely? I mean not being comfortable enough in another’s presence to be seen as you are?”

She knew this was a sensitive topic for him and feared she’d taken it a step too far. But fortune favored the bold, and she wanted to understand the silent man in front of her.

He promptly left the room, and she sagged against the counter. She thought he’d left, and instead there he was returning black notebook in hand. He came to stand next to her, so close her head reached his shoulders. He too leaned back against the counter mirroring her stance. He scribbled against the paper.

Are we friends?

She smiled confused, “Uhm I’d like to think so, but it's not something you just decide, it just happens when you enjoy being around a person. Do you see me as a friend?”

He stared at her for the longest, and she found herself glancing behind him at the knives stand further down on the counter. She could feel her heart beating loudly and grew worried that she’d truly overstepped his boundaries.

Relief flooded her when he finally nodded.

When can I see you again?

He found he needed to leave, he needed to think somewhere he could focus. Those dark chocolate eyes of hers disarmed him, and he felt vulnerable under her gaze. The fact she’d seen his hands had shaken him. But she hadn’t recoiled, he reminded himself.

Sarah thought about it, “How does Wednesday evening sound? Same time?”

He nodded.

He wasn’t sure what friends did when parting. He’d observed that some hug, some shake hands, some wave... What stage were they at? He wasn’t sure what would be appropriate in this situation.

He drew his characteristic smiley face on the notebook for her to find, and flipped it closed. He felt shaky under his collected exterior, and her perfume sent him over the edge. He twisted and pulled her close into his chest, an arm around her back as he pressed a chaste kiss to the top of her head, inhaling her vanilla leave-in conditioner. Just as quick, he pulled away, straightened his posture and walked out of the room, leaving the notebook on the table.

Sarah was bewildered. Her heart was racing, her thoughts jumbled into an incoherent mess. She stood there for a couple minutes. But what truly surprised her, was that she felt a fluttering sensation in her stomach, a blush creeping up her neck. You have got to be kidding me, she thought to herself.

What was absent, instead, was the enveloping warmth she felt before a breakout. Maybe she wasn’t in danger around him, after all.

MASTERLIST

Tag list: @ateliefloresdaprimavera @ellejo @dust-bun @coco724 @proximio-5 @damiminator @omegahighendpro @rpgluvr95 @sweetrabbitteamx

#the boys #the boys tv #the boys amazon #black noir #fanfiction #the boys season 2 #oc story #romance #black noir x oc

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fulcrum-agent · 3 years ago

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008. Adroid [FFXIVwrite2021]

"So just...pick a big room?" she asks the punkish apparition, head canting a little.

The redhead nods, smirking a little. "You're a clever girl, Quil - I trust ya won't pick somewhere with so little space, the bulkheads get blown up."

There's the briefest moment of blue screening brain at the compliment, but it's gone in a microsecond.

"'Cept when it comes to that other thing you brought up," she chides, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. "That was stupid as fuck, and we're gonna be discussin' it when you're done kicking this Miqo'te about."

Quila can't help but wince, giving the Arcadia a sheepish expression.

All the apparition does to such is wave her hand a little dismissively. "I said later. Call your new potential toy - just be sure ta gimme a show~."

Then just like that, Quila's alone again. Sort of. Mostly. Sighing, she reaches up for the linkpearl that's paired to her tomestone. "Karuis...found us a place to train."

"Ah, and here I thought I was gonna resign to watching the rain bounce off the bulkhead. Where am I meeting you?"

Xe has busied xemselves with taking up a curled up position somewhere in one of the Outlaw's more out of the way pieces of real estate, some cross beams nearby to some of the larger guns. Xe hops down from their Miqo accessible locale as xe wait for the exact location, tail flicking idly behind xem.

"You grab a place ground side, I assume?

"Nah. Arcadia's letting us pick a room," she explains but doesn't. "I figure one of the cargo bays is gonna be best, yeah?"

She's already making her way through the massive ship. She's trying to find where the cargo bays actually are, given she's near the bridge out of habit.

"Long as we have permission, that's fine with me. And aye, cargo bay works fine."

Xe didn't really require an explanation, everything after talking house, living through the memories of others, a massive skeleton trying to kill xem, and whatever the fuck the past few moons have been...

Xe assumes the Arcadia is just as alive as anyone else, and she told Quila what room to use. As xe make their way over to the other airship, xe give some idle thoughts to where precisely in the cargo bay they were meeting before deciding that finding out could be the adventure. Xe gives a slight bow of respect as xe come aboard the Arcadia before xe start moving like a shade through the halls, the map the Viera had shown before of this great airship bouncing about between their ears; as xe try to find... oh, there she is. By providence, luck, or maybe just The Arcadia being well designed xe spot the Garlean and give a half-wave, tail flicking behind xem.

"Didn't get lost, did we? Would be a little concerned if you did."

"Pfft, she'd let me if only to watch in sadistic amusement," she chirps as she turns, startling a little physically due to their lack of footfalls. "But, there are multiple cargo bays here. This is just the first one I've found. This ship is MASSIVE, and I feel like it's some sort of game to her to not just...give me a map."

"I could certainly see that; watching people wander around aimlessly can be pretty hilarious." The Seeker blinks at the noise before rubbing the back of their head as xe put on a small smile. "Sorry, someone had the bright idea to put a bell on me when I was young, fucking menace ever since, apparently. But! I have a map.. kind of, at least I remember the floor plans or whatnot. Rika managed to snag, so I mostly know my way around.. but that doesn't stop me from being thankful that I haven't gotten lost.. yet."

Xe glances about the cargo bay for a moment before turning their gaze back to her and motioning to her, finding a nearby support beam to lean on.

"So, what's the plan for today? Am I starting with teaching you the basics of Thavnarian dance fighting, or are we sparring to see where you are in hand to hand generally and working from there?"

At this point, she's in a pair of shorts (black), stockings (dark purple), her almost-trademark boots (black & gold), and one of those tank tops that the Isghardians were handing out to crafters (wine red). While she doesn't have Talekeeper with her, at least, as far as can be seen, she's still wearing the Warmage magicite Locke'd given her as a pendant to the collar she seems to wear 24/7.

When he speaks of the bell, she ends up giggling a little, trying to picture xe with a collar bell...which was surprisingly easy.

"I'm thinking we try some hand-to-hand so you can figure outplacement," she notes with something of a wicked grin, suddenly ramping towards manic. "Just don't go easy on me."

Xe has swapped over to something more warm with their Bozjan coat now missing for The Twelve only know how long. So the Seeker has thrown on a currant purple anemos gambison, some modified jet black strife pants, and one of their constantly swapping pairs of combat boots, these ones an Alliance make in soot black. Xe still has the twin onyx and dark amber revolvers gifted to xem by Locke on their belt though, besides that, xe aren't carrying any type of polearms. The two accessories that stand out are a watch on their left wrist that has a faint hint of aetheric energy coming off of it and a dull grey gunmetal tin clipped on their right, just about the size of a soul stone.

Xe raises a brow at the snickering and just shake their head a little; that smile from before staying before it turns into a grin at she's request.

"I wasn't planning on it; it wouldn't be an accurate assessment if I did take it easy. So I'll give you one warning before we do go; if you're gonna try and flow again, I'll start using my stone. On your mark, Aquila."

As soon as those words leave the Seeker, their demeanour switches with all the effort of a light switch, mismatched gaze narrowing as xe drop into a defensive stance, the style more reminiscent of an Imperial martial discipline than anything else.

"I uh...kinda don't know how to make those moves otherwise, so game on?" she replies as she falls into...absolutely no stance. There's nothing. Her stance is absolutely neutral all around, and suddenly, all but the most necessary of movements evaporates as she begins to focus on xem. It's slow, but there's a pronounced shift in her entire being, down to an aetheric level. A change she doesn't seem to be aware of.

She's almost maddening to fight. Any and all movement happens with barely a microsecond of warning, yet all of them still flow as though she's dancing, not fighting. Even watching the triangle, her telegraphs are tiny as hell; she always falls back to neutral if there's time, otherwise flowing from one motion to the next as xe fight.

And just like that, she blinks into the Lifestream to close the distance, ejecting just in reach of xe - as she had on the deck, only this time with the intent of actually striking him right in the solar plexus.

Xe would have clarified that xe head meant the blinking manoeuvre, but when xe takes in that she lacks stance, any of those thoughts leave xir mind. The Seeker catches the shift instance, their ears pinning back and tail puffing up as xe prepare for that same focus xe encountered on the deck of The Outlaw.

The dance-like flow to the spar thus far and the speed on display put the Seeker right in their element, moving with all of the grace that being both a Miqo'te and professional performer granted them as xe keep in sync with the Garlean. The Seeker shifts between and around styles like breathing the longer the fight goes on, prodding and poking at her defences to find her responses and strengths to certain things. The Seeker seems to favour a style favoured by Doman resistance cells, sending out elbows and fist and knee strikes in rapid succession.

Like a viper, the Seeker waited for that shift in the air as she went into the Lifestream. Xe know that point for point, xe weren't going to be able to match the manoeuvre for sheer speed, so instead, xe rely on the anticipation of the strike's previous flow. With an utter lack of hesitation, the Seeker moves to send out a swift dragoon kick, less focused on power but more on sheer speed as it snaps the air around the two. xir's body twists for the kick and hopefully moves the blow to somewhere less disastrous should it land. Xe was not about to hold back here, she deserved the Seeker at their best, and xe weren't one to disappoint.

Given that xe is a clever catte, xe'll quickly pick up on certain hallmarks of what she's capable of combatively: one of her biggest strengths is the lack of movement telegraphing, as it makes finding any sort of opening complex, at first. While her eyes seem to be unfocused, she locked onto the triangle that's formed by the Miqo'te's collarbones and sternum, that distant gaze seeming to more stare into their soul than past xem.

Blinking back into a kick sends her strike wide, the palm of her hand skimming along the side of his leg as she adjusts to try and block the kick before sliding around the side of Karius' body. Should she slide past him, her next attack is towards the middle of his lower back - another snapping strike with a bit of aether behind it, her second hand following to make a small follow-up strike.

With a better sense of what xe were working with when it came to her, the Seeker decides to switch up tactics. Xe shifts energy from trying to read the Garlean's movements to instead focusing on following through on their own and keeping a sense of spatial awareness in the room. Xe decides to eat the strike to their lower back, the energy needed to counter that far too much of a gamble; the weaker follow-up was a different story, however.

Turning on a dime on their heel, xe move to face she, using the speed and momentum of the rapid turn to try and veer the strike off to their left with their palm. Now fully facing she and the distance relatively short, xe go on the offensive, taking a far more aggressive stance as xe unleash a combination of palm and knee strikes. Xe wasn't relying on all of them to hit but instead overwhelming the other fighter with a complete switch from their previously tight defence. Xir's aim at the moment seemed to get the two of them out to a far smaller section of the cargo bay or at least push them to fight closer to this area.

Surprisingly, she doesn't smile at landing the strike. In fact, her expression is little more than deadpan as xe launch the continuous series of strikes. At first, she manages to keep up on blocking or redirecting the hits, but the longer xe continues the tactic, the more she has to pivot or dodge than she does block. Finally, it's becoming clear xir is going to overwhelm her with the rapid strikes...

...and as the Miqo'te overwhelms her, she blinks into the Lifestream, crossing through xe before flashing back into existence at their back. She's already executing a roundhouse kick as she solidifies, aiming for her opponent's middle back.

The Seeker was not about to let up the advantage of xir's rapid combos as xe continues to press her further into the smaller section of the cargo hold, boots squeaking against the metal floor as their speed increases. xe were, however, incredibly aware that xe couldn't keep it up forever; either she would come right for their throat or-

The sensation of being teleported through gets xem to shiver, warning xem what may be coming alongside dreading that blink. Unfortunately, there just isn't enough time for xem to dodge the strike, at least not in a way that wouldn't give her another big opening to exploit. So xe quickly turn on their heel and brace their arms up to catch the blow, which still sends the Seeker sliding back and does some solid damage. Xe hiss in pain as xe take a moment to centre xemselves before rushing into the Garlean's space. xir's method swaps now to something far faster, using their stone to gather as much momentum and speed as xe can while bleeding into these dancer-like strikes and spins. Thavnairian dance fighting, and xe gave her a crash course like an Imperial locomotive coming down the tracks.

Active learning at this speed is possible for the Warmage, though it was more of a slow build-up rather than a sudden gift of knowledge the way it can be when there's less going on. Falling back to focusing on dodging more than redirecting or blocking, xe would start to notice the more xe does a particular mood or technique, the more likely it is that she works it into her side of the fighting. With movements the Miqo'te's using heavily, she can almost perfectly mirror them; with the less frequent movements, she's a little unstable and erratic, her form nowhere near as tight and proper.

The continued attacks again start to press her, causing her to play defensive more than offensive.

Xe's next high kick ends with a different result: she doesn't attempt to block, redirect, or dodge such the way she has been. No, instead, she just...bends back at the waist, forming an almost perfect arch as her hands drop to the floor behind her. And then she pushes her feet off of the floor, intent of kicking her opponent with each foot as she shifts into a handstand before vaulting from such to her feet - facing xe, but several fulms away now.

As xe starts to notice she putting xir's techniques into her fighting styles and the like, that.. certainly gets a reaction from xem. But, then, something snaps from behind their crimson and amber eyes. The Seeker continues darting into she's space as much as xe can up until that next high kick, eyes going a bit wide as xe watch that arch and then the kick lands.

The hit lands nicely and sends xe sliding back, getting their tail to puff up and to show off their sharp canines, which are considerably sharper and pointed than even a vast majority of Keepers. Unfortunately, this fact doesn't stay in the spotlight for long as black aether sparks around xem as xe concentrates on their stone and go on an onslaught. Xe was going to put pressure on the fact she couldn't precisely copy their techniques perfectly or keep up with their speed to the same extent. If she continued using flow, then xe wasn't going to go easy, sending forth kick after dashing elbow to shin strike. One of the main strikes xe go into xe get right in her face and attempt a sweeping kick the Garlean before spinning into another kick to her midsection.

The initial onslaught causes her to start losing ground rapidly, causing her to dart backwards as she refocuses on trying to dodge as many of the strikes as possible. However, the moment the Seeker starts to focus on her face, she blinks backwards three separate times - putting as much distance as possible between them. Although she retreats, xe' leg sweep fully lands while the second is more of a light graze across her stomach.

She crashes to the floor as she exists the Lifestream the third time, rolling several times due to the force of the impact. Such is only stopped when the back of her upper body slams into the metal wall with a loud clanging thud. For a few heartbeats, she's propped up against the wall before her eyes fully roll back into her head as she falls sideways.

Xe was in the zone and was hard-pressed to get out of it, especially with the amount of blinking around the place that she was doing. Despite the serious expression on their face, xe were having so much fun with all of this. Xe goes to try and bring down another combination when xe hear that crash.

Xe pauses a few fulms away from the Garlean before their eyes go wide, and xe dart over to her side. Then, cursing under their breath as xe tries to force xemselves to not only calm down but try to figure out what might be wrong with their limited medical experience.

"Shit, shit... Aquila, are you alright?"

((Adapted from an RP session with Karuis.))

#ffxivwrite2021

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local80smotel · 5 years ago

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All knowing love

pairing; V x Trans Man! Reader

summary; being under V's loving and watchful eye.

requested; Anonymous

rating; T

warnings; transphobia, parental abuse (physical), hints of suicide (but never outright said)

word count; 2185

A/N; this isn't wasn't the fluffiest thing I could write but once talking to my trans boyfriend I couldn't help but feel having a bit of angst was acceptable.

When Y/N was still just a child, he knew something was off about him. Not something "bad" or "wrong" that people would call this feeling when he'd tell them. "It's just a phase" was a comment that was thrown at them mostly by their parents when they were still in their teens, just before high Chancellor Sutler was ever in the eye of politics. Oh, how those days would seem like a humid southern summer walk compared to when Sutler came into the picture. The transphobia he had experienced grew like how weeds grow in futile soil.

The comments like "You're confused" slowly started to warp into something more demeaning to the boy as the Chancellor candidate's toxic grip on the people of England started to squeeze any "unwanted" life out of it. "Undesirable" life as he would call it. When hair was cut after Sutler was elected, there weren't small arguments anymore that would be fixed when he'd be asked if he were hungry and wanted to eat supper with them. It became violent and unlike the people who had raised him for the last 15 years. Having handfuls of freshly cut hair be ripped out because his mother was holding him by his scalp just to yell in his face how much of a monster he was broke his heart.

Was it fear that caused this? Were they scared of losing their only child as many other families had? Was their bundle of joy in their life really an undesirable and the cause of this virus outbreak? Just why? He'd ask himself that as he was packing his bags in preparation to leave the family home for good.

Three long years had passed and at the ripe age of 18, he moved out into the busy streets of London. A small pit in his stomach began to form as the sickening feeling came back. The cause of it was from one simple but yet complex question; could he survive in this fascist regime? Sadness also fueled this emotional fire, sadness from knowing he'd have to use so many things he knew was wrong and didn't describe him truthfully just so he could get a place to come to when curfew hit; The name that was long dead to him the second it was given to him and female pronouns. He'd be signing his own death certificate if he put Y/N instead of his deadname on his application to rent.

They'd look it up and find no Y/N L/N in England and call the police on him in a split second. Shivers ran down his spine as he imagined what would happen to him if that became a reality. No one knew what happened when you were deemed "undesired" but everyone after having Sulter for three years knew that they would go missing and would be never seen of or heard from again. You were just wiped off the face of the Earth.

Y/N lucky had enough money saved from working in retail for the past 2 years to get a small apartment. When he was finally given the keys to the place he couldn't help but sigh in relief. At least in this tiny space, he could be his true self without shaking in fear as he had in his past while being stuck in his parents' home. The next three years were some of the worse when it came to dysphoria. Being forced to go to work almost every day and be called ma'am or miss and be deadnamed constantly damaged his mental health to the point it felt easier just to be open with his identity.

Anything would be better than being forced to hide in this shell of terror. Nights of panic attacks and sobbing that sounded like a wounded animal as he laid on the rotten wooden floor became a routine. On the morning of his 21st birthday, he woke up in the late afternoon. There was no panic in him when he realized he was late for work, how could someone care when this would be their last day on Earth?

With scissors in his hand, he grabbed his hair and began to chop it off sloppily but that didn't matter to him as long as it was finally short like it was when he was a child, and that was enough for him. The thought that when the police would see him, that'd see a man instead of what society had deemed him brought a smile to the young adult. The feeling of freedom pumped through his veins as he went on with his day. It felt odd but refreshing to feel the cold air from his AC on his neck as he fixed himself some bacon and eggs. It wasn't the fanciest thing someone could eat on this day, but it was enough for him.

Around ten AM he left his flat, walking with newfound confidence due to his hair and now his wrapped chest. He had heard from the grapevine that wrapping one's chest in medical bandages could cause serious damage like nerve loss but one this final day he decided to risk it so he could pass in normal daily life. Being called sir by ticket seller at the movies brought him so much joy as he grabbed his "Count of Monte Cristo" tickets and wished them a good day as he went deeper into the movie theater to find theater four to watch the movie. Y/N was somewhat surprised to see only one other person in the audience. Sure, he was 10 minutes late but this was a classic film that was finally being let out of the vault to be watched again! Nevertheless, the man sat down a few rows in front of the figure, settling down into the uncomfortable chair.

“I didn't expect you to come.”

He could tell from how the figure's words were muffled that they were wearing a mask. Y/N turned to them with a confused look on their face.

“Excused me?” Y/N asked but their confusion just deepened as he saw that the figure was wearing.

A Guy Fawkes mask with a matching hat while wearing pitch-black clothing. The man under the mask chuckled as they stood up, Y/N couldn't help but be slightly intimidated by the height of this masked figure.

“I should have done this first so you wouldn't be so perplexed, ” he cleared his throat as began monologing, using many words that start with the letter V in his speech which in turn slightly impressed the 21-year-old.

“But you can simply call me V.”

"V" said while taking a bow

Y/N couldn't help but snicker at this display of some kind of knightship which in turn had V cocked his head in slight confusion on what could be so funny

“Well, Mr. V, might I ask why you're here alone?”

“I could ask you the same thing, but as I am apparently on a tight schedule I won't elaborate”

“Tight sch-” the man interrupted them by placing his leather glove covered finger on top of their lips

“Yes, very much tight schedule as I only have 2 hours till your self made demise am I correct?”

He was blown away at the fact this random stranger knew of his most shameful plan, but the feeling of shock was soon replaced with anger. This creep was stalking me! He thought as he slapped away the masked man, getting up from his chair as he did so.

“You have some right talking to me like that!” he yelled as he started to march away from them.

V reached out and grabbed their hair in a somewhat gentle way

“Y/N wait please, ” he sighed as Y/N stopped who's face was twisted in bitterness “I understand how you feel Y/N, I truly do. I was labeled an undesirable so please don't think that I've been keeping an eye on you in for any other reason than just to keep you safe.”

When he said this Y/N rage seemed to melt away slowly. How was he able to survive being an undesirable? So many questions filled the male's head but the only word he could speak was

“How?”

V let go of his hair as he straightened his posture “If you come with me I'll tell you.”

The more sensible side of the man told him to run away from this masked freak and enjoy what little time you had left in peace but something stopped him. After a moment of silence, he nodded to V's pleasure. He took the 21-year old by the hand and lead them to the back exit. The two walked down the alley and what drew Y/N's eye other than the 6'3 black mass was the posters. Every single one they pasted seemed to have a V cut into them.

He broke the long silence with another question “Did you mark those posters?”

“Does a raven speak?”

“But why?”

V didn't stop walking but he could feel his eyes on him. For being an undesirable he sure seems fine being out after curfew Y/N thought as they waited for the answer.

“The people deserve a symbol. Something to get them through this.”

He opened his mouth to ask what he meant by that but quickly shut it once the meanings of the words came to mind. Maybe he wasn't this creep, more like this country's guardian angel that would save them all from high Chancellor Sutler. It didn't take long for him to reach what Y/N guessed as V's home which turned out to be an abandoned Victoria station. Y/N looked over at him with an eyebrow raised as V opened the hatch that kept the station locked to the public who had originally thought it was abandoned. V turned back to the man and gave him his hand simply saying "follow me, sir Y/N".

Once V was given the curious man's hand he rubbed his thumb over their knuckles before tenderly pulling them inside. He held the hand as they walked in the pitch black, guiding them until they found a giant door which to Y/N's touch felt like it had complex carvings in them. When the masked man opened the door Y/N couldn't help but wince as golden light hit his E/C eyes that had just gotten used to the dark. He had expected V to let go of his hand once they reached his "lair" but he didn't. Oh, what a perplexing and mysterious man he was.

Y/N would be lying if he said his face wasn't blushing at this moment in time. V led them deeper into his beautiful home until both of them to were behind his couch which was black leather. In front of the said couch was a glass coffee table with a box on it. Y/N's hand was finally let go of as V sat on the couch.

“Come sit, I have something to give you.”

“But you said-”

“Please?”

He sighed as he complied, arms folded as he sat next to him. V opened the box and to Y/N's surprise, there was a biner in it. Once again, all he could ask was "How?" as all production and selling of items that could help trans folk was banned just as the Koran was. The masked man took the folded bundle into his giant hands and gave it to them once again shocked male.

“Life has been tough enough on you even if we don't add our government into it. Thank you for holding on. For surviving this long and not letting them take away your love for life and your fighting spirit.”

Without any hesitation, Y/N pulled V into a tight embrace with tears threatening to fall. No one had ever put their life in danger to give them this piece of happiness like this stranger had. All he could do was whimper out a "thank you" as a sob shook his chest deeply.

“Since I showed you my lair, you're going to have to stay till the next November the fifth, is that okay?”

Y/N couldn't help but nod immediately. He could finally be somewhere he was truly accepted for who he really was; a man who was just simply given the wrong body at birth.

V placed his hands on top of the weeping H/C man, stroking the uneven hair and placed his head onto the others.

“I'm cooking ham, is that okay?”

“mmhmm..”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

#v for vendetta x reader #v for vendetta imagine #v for vendetta #anonymous #anon ask #anonymous request #anon request #imagine requests #imagine #imagine request #trans reader #trans!reader #V x reader

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thebonerpit · 5 years ago

Text

all i want is a room with a view [fic]

all i want is a room with a view

Teenker/Keenker, 3780 words. TW: non-consensual voyeurism. Read it on AO3 here!

This was 100% inspired by a nff video that I used to have linked here but I’m taking it out because maybe that’s stopping my post from showing up in tag searches?? Anyway if you want the link I will post it, just send an ask, because the dude looks so much like older Harley it’s insane. And he has a gorgeous dick.

“Tony’s inappropriate feelings for Harley and Peter lead him to spying on them via cameras in their rooms. He sees a whole lot more than he expected.”

Tony had been thinking about this for weeks. Mulling it over in his head, weighing the pros and cons… and funnily enough, not once did he question the morality of the whole thing. That, he knew. He knew it was wrong but he was going to do it anyway because… well, because he wanted to. Because he could. And because he knew this was the closest he was ever going to get to these two beautiful boys.

Harley and Peter had been staying at the complex for about two months now. It was summer, so both of them were out of school and were desperate to get as much time in the labs as possible. Of course no one objected, and Bruce in particular was very pleased to have both of them around to bounce ideas off of. They each had their own room, both already making the spaces their own. They were usually in an equal state of mess although Peter was slightly more organized. He put up a Star Wars poster and had turned one corner into a mini chem lab for his ongoing experiments. Harley on the other hand was much more spartan in his decorating but his desk was constantly littered with mechanical parts and there were grease stains smudging the perfect white walls. He had apologized for the first one but Tony honestly wouldn’t have it any other way. He loved them, mess and all, and he would let them do whatever the hell they wanted if it meant they would stay.

He knew all this detail about their rooms because, well, frankly, he was spying on them. Never while they were in there, but he already had cameras set up in those rooms when they were empty and… he was curious. A few times he opened the feed and caught glimpses of them, working or reading or doing some other innocent activity, but he quickly shut it off. He didn’t want to invade their privacy like that.

Until he did.

It was a few weeks into summer when the staring started. He’d look up from his work to catch Peter’s glassy eyes fixed on him only to hurriedly look back down at his own project, blushing furiously. Harley was less subtle – as usual – and held Tony’s gaze for a few moments before smiling and looking away. At first he thought they were up to something, that he was going to get pranked, but nothing ever came of it. They did it to each other, too, but their gazes were much more knowing, so Tony could only assume there was something between them they didn’t want him to know about.

The first time he actively checked on them while he knew they were present was when he saw Harley sneaking into Peter’s room as he was up getting a glass of water one night. He tip-toed back to his bedroom and pulled up the feed, some dark anticipation throbbing in his stomach. But it seemed perfectly innocent. Harley was on Peter’s desk chair and Peter was on his bed, and they were just talking. Nothing nefarious. Nothing… sexual. It was sick how disappointed he felt.

But after that he just couldn’t stop. He watched Peter on his computer, looking up cute animal videos and laughing sweetly to himself. He watched Harley reading. He watched them both together, sitting on Harley’s bed, eating pizza and marathoning Stranger Things. He even turned the sound on occasionally, just to hear them laugh. It was like an addiction. But somehow, up until this point, he hadn’t seen anything remotely scandalous. Harley was shirtless once but it was just because he spilled coffee all over himself like an idiot.

“Maybe my timing is off,” Tony muttered to himself as he tinkered with the engine of his ’65 Porsche 911.

“What was that?” Harley called from the next table over.

“Nothing! Just talking to myself. As usual. Whenever I ask either of you a question you just respond with memes,” he snapped, which of course got the two of them going and away from the subject he definitely should not have been thinking about in the first place. But he might have had something. He never tried the mornings (or more realistically for these two, afternoons). Tony set an alarm for the next day, more pleased with himself than he should have been, and went back to work.

+ + + + +

He checked in on Peter first. When he opened the camera all he could see were tufts of brown hair peeking out under the edge of his massive comforter all bundled up around his body like a cocoon. Tony chuckled softly and shook his head.

“FRI, crank up the heat in Peter’s room a little, would you?”

Tony liked to keep the a/c low but even though Peter’s crazy high metabolism should keep him warm, he was always bundled up in hoodies and socks and obviously he needed some more heat while he slept. Tony smiled fondly at the image before switching over to Harley.

The contrast was shockingly stark. Harley had no sheets on at all and was lying face-down on the bed, clad only in a pair of very snug, red boxer-briefs. His tight, round ass was perfectly on display and Tony bit his lip as Harley shifted and the muscles clenched. This was more like it. Harley was obviously just waking up, his phone chirping an alarm at him as he squirmed a little bit, stretching his legs out and groaning softly into the pillow before flipping over to turn it off.

Tony was greeted by a significant bulge which he barely had time to appreciate before Harley was palming it and arching into his own touch.

“Mmmm,” he moaned quietly, biting his lip as he squeezed a bit harder.

Tony was completely captivated. This was exactly what he was hoping for, and as Harley slipped a hand into his underwear Tony did the same. How he was going to look him in the eye again later that day he had no idea, but he could barely even process that thought right now. All he could think about was how good he looked, how soft and sleep-warmed, and fucking shit how big his cock was. Tony was stunned when Harley finally pulled his briefs down his legs and grasped his dick with one hand. It was thick and long and flushed red, and Tony’s mouth literally watered at the sight. He had always imagined being on top in any scenario involving the boys but god, what he wouldn’t do to get that dick in his mouth or his ass…

Harley stroked himself slowly, pausing every so often to spit in his palm. He seemed unhurried and relaxed, just enjoying the pleasure of a lazy morning handjob. His other hand wandered up and down his chest, flicking at his nipples or scratching lightly against his stomach. A few times he reached up to tug at his mop of sleep-mussed dirty blonde hair and Tony felt his own hand tighten, wishing he could touch him like that, too. Harley kept his eyes closed for the most part but a few times he blinked and seemed to focus directly on the camera lens. The first time it happened Tony tensed up, his hand ready to cut the feed, but it must have been a coincidence because Harley just kept going like before.

His noises started to get louder as he sped up his strokes and he reached down with his other hand to cup his heavy sac, tugging at it gently. Tony could see his hips start to jerk, and from the look on his face he was about five seconds from coming all over himself, so Tony sped up to match him. Unfortunately, before they could get there, both of them wrenched their hands away as Harley’s door flung open and Peter waltzed inside.

“Hey Harls, wanna go get brunch before we—”

He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the boy laid out on the bed. Harley stopped touching himself but made no effort to cover up, so he was completely naked and incredibly hard.

“Oh my god. Oh my GOD, I’m so sorry, fuck, I’ll… I just…”

Peter flushed bright pink but for some reason made no effort to turn and leave, which is probably exactly what Tony would have done if he walked in on his friend jerking off. Unless of course he was attracted to that specific friend and… oh. OH.

Harley seemed to come to the same realization and a slow, lazy smile crept across his face.

“Hey Pete,” he said, his voice scratchy with sleep and from the moans that were escaping earlier.

“I… I didn’t mean…” Peter’s voice was quiet, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Harley’s cock.

“I know. But you did sorta interrupt me. So, now that you’re here…”

Peter blinked at him owlishly.

“Wh-what?”

“Come on. I know we always talk about how fucking hot Tony is-“ excuse me WHAT “-but I’ve seen the way you look at me, too.”

Tony was reeling from the bomb that Harley so casually dropped. They talked about him? How had he never heard–?

“Shhh, Harley! We agreed, never in here! FRI hears everything.”

Ah-ha. Smart boys.

“Not really thinkin’ straight right now, Pete,” Harley said with a shrug. “If you don’t want to you can go, I promise I won’t make it weird, but—”

“NO! Uh. No. I…” Peter squirmed and bit his lip before he started slowly walking over to the bed.

Tony couldn’t believe his eyes. Was this really happening? He was half-tempted to ask FRIDAY if he was in a coma or hallucinating or maybe dead.

Peter was dressed in an oversized hoodie that Harley started to tug off as soon as he got close enough. They managed to get it off after a bit of a struggle, leaving him in tiny little sleep shorts that Tony had never seen before.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous, baby,” Harley said, grabbing at Peter’s waist and pulling him down for a wet kiss. Tony could hear everything, every slick filthy sound, and his dick which had softened briefly from the shock was now rock hard again.

“Really?” Peter whispered.

“You’re tellin’ me you haven’t picked up on ANY of the hints I’ve been droppin’? Christ, my flirting game is rusty.”

“I just… didn’t think…”

“Yeah, I know. It’s part of what I like so much about you. Innocent little flower,” Harley teased, kissing Peter on the nose and making him scrunch his face up.

“Oh my god Harley, I’m not that innocent!”

“Yeah? Prove it.”

Peter got a look on his face that Tony had definitely seen before, usually when either he or Harley challenged him to some task in the lab. Determination. Stubbornness. Boldness. He huffed out a little noise before pushing Harley back down on the bed, crawling down his body, and licking a thick, wet stripe up the length of his cock. Harley’s whole body jerked at the sensation and Peter looked up with a sly smile before taking the tip into his mouth and sucking.

“Fuckkkk, that’s it baby,” Harley groaned, throwing his head back against the pillow and scrabbling blindly for Peter’s hair to tug on which earned him a disapproving noise.

“Nuh-uh,” Peter tutted, pulling off him with a soft ‘pop’. “You want that, you have to look at me.”

Harley propped himself up on his elbows, one eyebrow raised, as he stared down at Peter who was pressing soft kisses all along his length.

“Is this better, princess?” he teased. Peter flushed a little but nodded as he took him back in his mouth. Harley dug one elbow into the mattress and with his other hand he curled his fingers back into Peter’s hair, pulling gently. Tony watched, completely mesmerized, as Peter got about halfway down his cock before he gagged and had to back off. There was no way the kid was going to get that thing all the way down his throat but god it was beautiful to watch him try. His lips were swollen pink from the abuse, spit-slick and oh so kissable. And Harley was a sight himself, obviously already on the edge from touching himself for so long but trying not to come too soon, his body tense and shiny with sweat.

“Oh god, Pete, your mouth…”

Peter hummed around Harley’s throbbing cock which made the older boy yelp and yank him off by the hair.

“Want more,” Peter whined, trying to take it in his mouth again, but Harley wouldn’t let him. He must be so close, Tony thought, palming his own cock just to get some relief. Usually he prided himself on being able to last however long his partner needed but fuck, he didn’t know how much more he could take. Thankfully, Harley seemed to be in the same position. He dragged Peter up into another searing kiss.

“Too close,” he murmured against Peter’s lips, “wanna come inside this sweet little ass. ‘S that ok?”

Peter nodded vigorously. “I’ve got lube in my room, I can—”

“In the drawer, over there,” Harley interrupted, pointing to his desk. Peter clambered off him so quickly he almost tripped and Harley laughed, but there was no malice in it. Tony got an exceptional view of Peter’s ass as he bent over to rummage through the drawer and could only image how Harley was going to fit his cock in there. Peter was already opening the bottle and squeezing lube on his fingers as he climbed back into Harley’s lap.

“You’re not gonna let me do that for you?”

“Not now. I know how much I need,” Peter said as he reached back to slide two fingers inside him, moaning as he pressed them as deep as he could.

“Well at least let me enjoy the show,” Harley said with a smirk, tapping at Peter’s hip until he squirmed around awkwardly to face the other direction in his lap. Harley groaned and squeezed at his pert little cheeks, spreading them apart while Peter fingered himself open. Tony watched his slick fingers move faster and faster and moaned out loud when Peter added a third, the high-resolution cameras picking up the perfect pink of his hole as it stretched around his thin digits. Harley threw his head back for a moment, eyes catching the camera again, and Tony could have sworn he smirked at it, but he was soon distracted by Harley slipping one of his fingers in alongside Peter’s.

“Ahhh!” Peter gasped, his hips shuddering as he sank down on their hands.

“You have gorgeous fingers babe, but it wasn’t gonna be enough. Come on, press in a little more, that’s it…”

It was only a few more minutes until Peter was whining and pulling at Harley’s wrist with his other hand until he slid his fingers out, letting Peter turn back around and position himself over his cock. Tony almost wished he had stayed the other way just so he could see every inch of it press inside, but this way he got to see his beautiful face. He’d have to invest in some mirrors for their rooms for the future… or maybe more cameras.

“You sure you’re ready?”

“Yeah, yes, please, want it,” Peter begged. Harley held his hips still with one hand and reached down to line himself up with the other. Tony could see the exact moment the head pressed past Peter’s tight muscle as his eyes flew open and he let out a choked-off gasp.

“Harleyyyyyy,” Peter whined, squirming his hips as Harley pushed up into him, getting those last few inches inside. He looked completely overwhelmed, his chest heaving and tears streaking down his cheeks.

“Aw look at you sweetheart, such a little crybaby, huh?”

“Am not,” Peter sniffed, slapping Harley on the chest which made the other boy laugh.

“Thought you said you wanted more?”

“I do! Fuck, Harls, it’s so big, feel so full…”

“Yeah? You like that big fat cock inside you?”

Peter blushed but he nodded fiercely, and he must have squeezed around him because Harley gasped and gripped his hips even tighter.

“Fuck yeah, just like that. Such a little slut,” Harley growled, jerking his hips up and jostling Peter forward. He braced himself with his hands on either side of Harley’s head and moaned as his flushed cock rubbed against Harley’s stomach. “You ready, baby?”

Peter nodded and leaned down to mouth wet kisses against Harley’s neck.

“P-please, move,” he whispered.

Harley started slow, fucking up into him with long, deep thrusts that jostled Peter’s whole body against his own. They tried to kiss but it was too messy, mouths barely connecting as Peter tried to meet Harley’s movements. It was uncoordinated, both of them trying to do what felt the best, and somehow Tony found that way sexier than if they immediately started fucking like porn stars. Peter whined with frustration as Harley kept knocking him out of his rhythm.

“Nnn, stop, lemme… fuck,” he groaned, as Harley grabbed his hips so tightly Tony could see the skin turn white and bucked up into him as deep as he could go.

“So fussy,” Harley rasped. “You wanna take control, hm?”

A flush of embarrassment creeped across Peter’s chest. He was like this even in the lab when they were all working together and he got excited about something, forgetting his sweet demeanour and ordering Harley and Tony around until he realized what he was doing. Tony usually just smirked and gave him a jaunty little salute but he would never tell him how hot it was. He was still shy about it, but obviously his need for pleasure won out and he pried Harley’s hands off of him, pressing them into the mattress.

Peter leaned back to grip Harley’s thighs as he worked his hips, slamming down against Harley, his dick jumping with every movement. Harley propped himself up on his elbows to watch this little display, a sexy smirk playing across his mouth as Peter rode him.

“God, look at you… so fucking gorgeous, baby,” he purred. “You close? Gonna come on my cock like a good boy?”

Tony groaned out loud at that. Fuck, Harley had an absolutely filthy mouth and he somehow knew exactly what to say to make Tony impossibly turned on.

Peter could only nod and whimper, and after a few more enthusiastic bounces he ground his hips down as much as he could, moving them in short little jerks to rub Harley deep against his insides. He must have been pressing right against his prostate because it didn’t take long for him to come with a high-pitched whine, shooting all over himself and Harley. Tony nearly came with him, just from the expression on his sweet face: eyes squeezed shut, mouth open, cheeks flushed… it was pure sin. Peter’s dick was still jumping and leaking when Harley grabbed his waist again and pulled him down for a kiss.

“That’s it, so good for me Pete,” Harley cooed, rubbing up and down his back and he shifted underneath him so he could plant his feet against the mattress. “I’m close too, baby, can I…?”

Peter nodded into his neck, fingers winding into Harley’s sweat-drenched hair, and he wiggled his hips a little just for good measure. Harley let out a grunt as he started fucking up into Peter’s pliant body in short little jerks. Tony matched Harley’s thrusts with his own hand, trying to imagine how tight and hot Peter must feel, how he opened for Harley’s huge cock so beautifully…

“Gonna come, gonna fill you up, so fuckin’ sweet darlin’, fuck!”

Tony got another gorgeous view of Peter’s face as Harley came deep inside him and he snapped his head up with a gasp and a lazy, fucked-out smile, practically drooling as Harley shuddered through his orgasm underneath him. It pushed Tony over the edge and he came moments after Harley, muffling his shout with one hand and making an absolute mess of his stomach. He came like he had been edging himself for hours and had to take a moment to slow his breathing before he could even look at the camera again. These boys were literally going to kill him. His heart could only take so much.

Which is why he nearly full-on passed out when Harley twisted his head around to look directly in the camera with a devilish smile on his face.

“Hi Tony. Did you like the show?”

Peter’s head jerked up again, his eyes wide as he looked to the door where he must have expected to see Tony standing.

“Wh-what, Harley, what are you—”

He followed Harley’s gaze to where the camera was, almost completely hidden unless you were looking for it, and he nearly choked.

“Oh my god,” he groaned, hiding in Harley’s neck as Harley chuckled, rubbing his back to comfort him.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, sweetheart. He’s wanted this since we got here. Got my phone all set up to notify me when you’re watchin’ the feed of my room,” Harley said.

That little shit.

“Figured I’d just give you a solo show today but then Pete here turned up and… well… happy early birthday I guess.”

Peter was still hiding, but he whispered something to Harley, so quiet the camera didn’t pick up the audio. Harley reached down and pulled his face up with a gentle finger under his chin and nodded. It must have reassured him enough to look up at the camera again although he was still bright red. He bit his lip as he raised himself off Harley’s softening cock, letting it slip out. Tony could see a pool of wetness where Harley’s come was dripping out of him and he groaned.

“I feel so empty already,” Peter said quietly, still staring at the camera. “Maybe you can help me with that, Mr. Stark?”

Harley laughed softly as he sat up enough to press a kiss to Peter’s abs and grab his phone from his night table, and then he cut the camera feed. Tony was left staring at his reflection in the blank screen. His softening cock was hanging out of his pants, stomach covered in cooling come, and his face was red from exertion. He was an absolute mess, but he had never felt so aroused.

“Be careful what you wish for, Peter,” he murmured to himself with a smile, cleaning himself up and already planning his next move.

#keenker #teenker #starker #harley keener x peter parker #harley keener x peter parker x tony stark #nff #tbpwrites #ok i'm re-doing this post because it wasn't showing up in the tags #WHY #i just want to share filth with people!!

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nullanythorm-ao3 · 5 years ago

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Some Hiccup/Hiro/Varian OT3 Hogwarts Heacanons

I’ve just been having fun throwing some ideas around in my head. I don’t know when my Variro OTP turned into this trio but uh. Let’s appreciate the dynamic! I might make a short chapter covering each of their 7 years at hogwarts at some point, probably between TISE and my next big project if I do, but for now.

Yo, a few basics - They’re all in the same year. They met on the Express and were FAST friends - by the end of second year they are all SO. DONE. with being asked “why aren’t you a ravenclaw?” - Hiro is a muggleborn. The wizarding insanity in his family started with Tadashi getting his letter. Aunt Cass is at her wit’s last end dealing with two wizarding boys. - Hiccup is a half-blod. His dad (Stoick) is a muggle, and his mom (Valka) is a witch. We’ll get to this later, it’ll be fun! - Varian is a pure-blood. Still trying to decide if Ulla teaches potions or not. Either Ulla teaches potions or Quirin teaches DADA. One or the other. So. Houses! - now I say that none of the trio are Ravencalws, but the hat actually did consider Ravenclaw for ALL of them, to varying degrees. - Tadashi is a Ravenclaw. Hiro wanted to be in the same house, but. Obviously, if you've been reading this post. He ain’t. - the hat took a while sorting Hiro. Not a full hatstall, but took about 2-3 minutes to be sorted. Ultimately though, his strongwilled nature and moral compass got him sorted into Gryffindor. - the hat DID consider Ravenclaw for Hiccup, but not for long. He was sorted into Hufflepuff almost instantly. - now, Varian. Varian WAS a legitimate hatstall. The hat just could not decide where to put him. One of the houses it was trying to decide between was Ravenclaw. But when a student said it was taking forever, and the hat should just put him in Hufflepuff because “that’s where people who don’t have enough traits to be sorted into any of the more prominent houses go”, and Varian shot back “then I guess you’re in Gryffindor because that’s where all the thick-headed people go”, he was sorted into Slytherin (naturally, Hiro, a Gryffindor, incessantly teases him about this line later. Varian just responds with “I responded to a stereotype with a stereotype”).

How about their friends from their respective series/movies/franchises? - So the three of them stay good friends even after they’re all sorted. But there are still others they hang around - either people they meet at school or knew growing up for whatever reason - Hiro was introduced to Tadashi’s friends due to being his little brother and whatnot. They’re all kind of rag-tag with heir houses - Honey Lemon’s a Ravenclaw, Wasabi is a Hufflepuff, Fred’s a Gryffindor. I’m torn between Gryffindor or Slytherin for Go-Go, but leaning Slytherin. - Hiccup has a group he grew up around, knew from his mom’s side of the family or so. Most of them are Gryffindors - except Fishlegs, who’s a Ravenclaw. They (except Fishlegs) harrass him from time to time for bying a Hufflepuff, but he grows on them. As Hiccup’s prone to do. - Varian’s group are folks he grew up around, similar to Hiccup. He met many of them through his parents’ connections. Like Hiro, though, many of his friends are scattered around the different houses. Rapunzel is a Huffleupff, Eugene and Lance are a Gryffindor troublemaking duo, Cass is a Slytherin. They all get on fairly well

These boys are competitive okay? - Hiro and Hiccup are natural fliers, and in second year both wind up on their respective quidditch teams. - Either they’re both chasers, or Hiro’s a chaser and Hiccup’s the keeper. I dunno yet - They’re CONSTANTLY showing off in matches when Varian’s watching. While Varian’s usually supportive and happy to cheer them on, whenever Hufflepuff and Gryffindor play together he keeps his nose in a potions book because he’s so done with this guys - If Hiro and Hiccup are competitive at Quidditch. Varian and Hiro are competitive at grades. - They’re always trying to see who can make the best grades, and intentionally took all the same electives just so they could say “I’m doing better in this class than you” as difinitively as possible. Once they start dating it literally becomes thier way of battling for dominance (until around 6th to 7th year when Hiro’s athleticism compared to Varian makes any attempts Varian might want to make at being the dom impossible) - Varian and Hiro have sass competitions. They’re constantly snarking back and forth. Hiccup tends to be a bit softer, but when he starts snarking it usually shuts the other two up almost instantly.

They love each other though - I haven’t decided if it’s a mutual decision, or if one pair of them starts dating first and the other comes in later (due to my Variro bias, it would probably be Varian and Hiro if it’s the latter, but anyone who likes these headcanons can see it any way they want) - Hiro and Varian are protective of their hufflepuff best friend/boyfriend because he’s way too nice most of the time - One time a slytherin student was harrassing Hiccup. Varian then proceeded to create an overly complex plan to keep the kid looking over their shoulders expecting retribution all year until he’d eventually mail them a jinxed item over summer. - When Hiccup told him he didn’t have to go through all this trouble. He simply said “Hiccup. You will not hurt a fly, no matter how much its incessant buzzing might bother you. So, as your friend, it’s just my job to swat it. That’s all” Hiro was cackling all night. - Hiro takes a more direct approach if Hiccup is getting messed with. He will jinx someone, and will not hesitate. That goes for if anyone messes with Varian too (though most people don’t, because they’ve seen what he does if anyone messes with Hiccup and don’t want to deal with it for getting to him as well) - Hiccup is no pushover, though. He lets it go if you’re messing with him, but mess with either of his boyfriends? Well, as many HP fans might know Badgers are known to bite back if you hurt any of their loved ones.

What about classes? - Hiro’s favorite class is DADA. He probably plans to be an auror or teach DADA post-graduation. He admires Tadashi’s goal of wanting to work in St. Mungos, but wants to take a more direct aprroach to help others instead. - Hiccups favorite class (and nobody is surprised) is care of magical creatures. The trio spends a summer at his house at some point and learns his mom has a liscence to handle dragons. Hiccup wants to follow her footsteps and be a dragon handler/conservationist. - Varian’s favorite class is potions. He’s like, Half-blood prince level and is constantly scribbling little potions improvements in his books. Probably starts an apothecary after graduating.

#variccup #variro #hirocup #hiccup/hiro/varian #hogwarts au #harry potter #how to train your dragon #big hero 6 #rapunzel's tangled adventure #varian #hiccup horrendous haddock III #hiro hamada

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frazzledsoul · 5 years ago

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In honor of the beer plague that's keeping us homebound and my own procrastination, here are my observations of the entire run of the teen soap Switched At Birth, for which I hung on way too long to traditional cable to finish watching

I definitely would not have known that Bay and April Nardini were played by the same actress if I hadn't been informed beforehand

Bay's style game was really on point, but in the early seasons I believe they went way too far in having her dress to the nines in every single circumstance

Daphne was supposed to be the all American girl we were supposed to relate to, but that girl was....so dumb. Especially about boys. I spent most of the series wanting to drop her down a ravine, especially after Bay took the fall for her vandalism.

I honestly think the show did well with Simone and that she and Emmett were much more mature and apologetic about their cheating than I've seen in other teen shows, especially Gilmore Girls. I didn't really like how her drinking problem was dropped, but I did like in the end how she was a little taken aback by Toby's son but came around to it and the incident wasn't used to make her a bad person

Bay and Emmett....god, what a pair of drama queens. Seriously. I do not buy that Travis was a better match for her as they had no chemistry and seemed very brother/sister like until the end of the show and she was lying to him about spending most of her time with Emmett. They also seemed to have nothing in common. I don't think she and Emmett were well suited for each other at the end of the series because he still had a lot of mental health issues but I don't see her and Travis lasting, either. I also didn't like how at the end Bay talked about Emmett being her "first love" as if they wouldn't stay in touch. I'm just going to pretend that she and Travis split up amicably and she and Emmett got back together later.

Marlee Matlin probably relished the chance to play someone more complex than the saintly deaf person that shows up for one guest episode but man, could Melody get on my nerves. I wish they had followed through on the adoption storyline with her and her cute ginger hubby at the end instead of saddling them with fostering one if the show's most detestable characters

I missed Angelo after he was gone, but I feel like all of the other characters compensated for how individually melodramatic they could be to make up for killing him off

The parental situation between all three kids went back and forth constantly....half the time it seemed that the Kennishes had three kids and Regina was off in her own world (sometimes with Angelo, sometimes not) and the other half that Daphne and Regina were totally seperate from the other family. I never felt that Bay ever really connected with her biological parents, though. At the most, Regina became like a close family friend/aunt figure to her.

There were a lot of characters that disappeared that I really wondered about...Noah, the kid who was going deaf that got between Bay and Daphne? Just disappeared. Regina's mom? I've read that she was written out because she went back to Puerto Rico, but I swear they never said anything, she was just gone.

The whole thing with Toby and Nikki's forced marriage even after they sleep together was just odd and an indication that TV writers shouldn't try to write about people with traditional belief systems if they don't understand them. The same goes for John's political career...look, it's the Midwest, not Brooklyn, a Republican state senator is not some sort of exotic creature that no one can wrap their heads around.

That said, Joey Lauren Adams as Nikki's mom kind of threw me for a loop. I know the 90s were years ago and she's definitely old enough but I just couldn't get over it.

Toby and Lily were a roller coaster and I did not like her personally....at all. I think they definitely had input from both sides of the abortion argument bevause the kind of things argued and the way Toby approached the situation definitely seemed familiar to me. That said, Daphne and Bay both needed to lay the hell off (especially Bay) and the way Lily was totally excluded from the conversations that Toby was having definitely bothered me. I honestly would have liked to meet Lily's family, too.

The situation with Bay and Tank....I definitely did not see things the way the show wanted me to see them. I also feel really bad for the actor playing Tank that they threw this plot twist in. That's all I'm going to say. They also randomly turned Bess Armstrong's character into a villain for no apparent reason.

The show's final truncated season...what a mess. I understand that it got shortened while they were in the middle of filming, but Daphne cutting short her medical career (which she already was struggling in) to live with Bay in China for a year after all that Bay sacrificed so that she could have it? Also, we take a lot of time out for the BSU storyline to focus on side characters which would have made sense in a 22 episode season but feels off when they have to wrap everything up in 10 episodes. Emmett shows up in about 3 episodes and I don't think we ever got closure or peace on his problems. Toby's career issues are not resolved satisfactorily at all. And don't even talk to me about Regina dumping her hawt younger BF so that she raise the kid her ex kidnapped until he gets out of jail.

But Daphne ended up with Mingo, and as he was much better than all of her other boyfriends, I guess I'll have to imagine that she stops being as dump as a box of hair (OTOH, she does intentionally piss off someone with connections in her chosen career...even if he was a bigoted jerk, that wasn't a great idea. So no. She still dumb).

#switched at birth #why did i write this

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queenburd · 6 years ago

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and in the end; chapter 1

This fic has been a year in the planning. It is 25k in totality, split into 6 chapters and an epilogue. It’s meant to be a sort of soft close on the last incomplete character arc(s) of Teslaverse. As such, I’m probably not going to be writing a lot more Teslaverse stuff after this. If I do, it won’t be to the lengths the past few fics for it have been.

It’s... really important to me, this fic. Teslaverse is too, which is why I tried so hard. There’s a ton of callbacks to earlier threads and fics laced through it, all of which are covered in the beginning of each chapter. But finishing this fic helped me figure some of my own stuff out and I really hope it’s as good as I wanted it to be. It will update once a day.

This fic will have some mild graphic descriptions in the final chapters. @mysteriie, who beta-read, said it was not too upsetting. There will still be an author’s note on said chapters.

chapter 1: i'd do it all again

callbacks and references: The “Get Out of Jail Free” Card, The Party

[INCOMING PREVIOUSLY RECORDED TRANSMISSION. RELAYING...]

[PLAYBACK]

The lot was in poor shape; long cracks in the concrete that had never seen sealant crisscrossed the faded painted parking lines. They looked like lightning bolts in the day, but now, in the black of early morning, they were nearly invisible. May's flashlight bounced off the concrete as she leaned against the decrepit link fence that Kass was making his way down. He leaped off it a couple feet away from the ground, and it rattled viciously from the impact, before halting abruptly as May grabbed and steadied the links.

They crossed the lot in relative quiet, the light a few feet ahead of them, bobbing unsteadily while May tried to match Kass's longer gait. “If I didn't know any better,” she said, speaking softly, “I'd think you were trying to ditch me.”

Her partner made some sort of noise that he hoped she would not discern for the mild irritation that it was. “I can't help how short your legs are, bird. Don't look further into it, you're doing me a disservice.”

“Okay,” was the simple answer he received, and that was that.

While originally startling at first, Kass had slowly become adjusted to being taken at face value. It was relieving, to not have to bicker constantly about his alleged intentions behind his actions. Very simply, May knew when Kass was intentionally being unpleasant, and when there were underlying reasons. In any case, it made conflicts short, and overall, communication was easier. Less stressful.

They approached the defunct glass factory that the lot surrounded quietly, though it seemed unnecessary. It had long been a site for vagrants and unruly teens, if the graffiti and dank tarps were to be believed. Yet, now, it was silent, save for the two quickly moving bodies.

“Point it out to me?” May requested. In response, he took her light, and directed it upward, to the small broken window above the large bolted door. “Right.” Rolling her shoulders, she shifted and took flight, taking a moment's pause to flutter and examine the crevice. And then she had slipped through, and he lost sight of her.

After the bailout, many months earlier, May had sat Kass down very seriously and said that she outright refused to let him do these harder “missions”, as she had called them, on his own. She had said, very shortly, that she respected his privacy, but if the next phone call she got from authorities was about a body, she would yank his spirit out of whatever afterlife it landed in and trap him in a bottle, simply to shout at him.

While that in itself was hardly intimidating, they had finally come to an agreement of sorts. It was easier to have back-up—to have someone to keep watch. So she had begun to accompany him on the more risky ventures, and in the process Kass had learned much more about his housemate and her abilities. There had been moments where, when he was certain he was down for the count from a nasty wound, she would glare hard at him and put her hands on his arm, and then he was back up and at it with whatever beast had tried its luck.

This was to say nothing for the moments where she had thrown up golden walls, shielding them both from incoming blows and falling debris. And certainly, when fighting creatures that prowled in the dead of night, it was particularly handy to keep around a creature of sunlight.

So Kass had come to accept, albeit begrudgingly, the second pair of hands. He wished more than anything she didn't have such a smart mouth for what seemed like every occasion, but that was par for the course with her. Besides, she had pointed out, he was the world's largest hypocrite, so he would have to deal with it.

There was a deep metallic thunk, and the door was pushed open from the inside slowly. Kass aimed the flashlight into the crack, and May grimaced, squinting. “Put the light down, asshole. This thing is heavy.”

“It's not, you've just got the physical capability of a nine-year-old. And it's a torch.” He pocketed the light momentarily to help her pry the door open enough for him to slip through, and then handed the thing back to her to aim at the interior of the building. As she took it, she scowled.

“We're in America, dipshit. It's a flashlight.”

“Britain came first, ya booby.”

“Do not.”

The glass factory was not a complicated structure from the outside. It was a long, somewhat tall building, with several chimneys that once released toxic black smoke but now lay dormant. Its roof was a shallow convex. By all accounts, it was simple like a child's play toy—four walls, a roof.

On the interior, however, the simplicity was cut through with complex machinery that lined the metal and stone walls. The light cut distorted shadows on the walls as it slipped through old pipes. They surveyed the many corners with suspicion. There were too many places for a creature to squeeze into and hide.

With hesitation, May took the lead, leading the light around each corner. “This feels like a disaster waiting to happen. Do you even know what we're tracking?”

“I've narrowed it down to a couple nasties,” was his short reply, “but no specifics. Whatever it is, it's solitary, and it seems right at home.”

“That's not comforting.” She continued forward anyway. “Even a hint of what it might be would be more helpful, dude. Do you smell that?”

He did. The scent of rot was thick in the back of the factory. Kass grabbed the back of May's hoodie when she stumbled, keeping her from falling onto the oldest of the remains. The body had been mostly stripped of flesh, though what remained clung tightly to the bone.

May shuddered, holding the light out to reveal what looked like a massacre. “God, that's a lot of people.”

“Different rates of decay,” Kass noted, breathing far more shallowly. “Likely one of our friendly neighborhood crackheads would wander in to get away from the cold, and the beastie would have its next meal.”

“Why go hunting when food walks into your lap, I guess.”

They carefully stepped over the splayed limbs and loose organs. May grimaced at a torso that looked torn open, the innards shredded. “These ones are newer.”

Kass unholstered his pistol and took the lead, his jaw tight. The smell was worsening, centered at the base of a large vial machine. He circled it silently as he could, and raised the firearm in time with May's light, falling onto the freshest corpse, and the creature that crouched over it.

He'd barely the time to register the moth-like wings before he fired. The thing screamed wildly, turning to shriek at the pair of them, and took off up into the rafters where chimney pipes and metal machinery made nightmarish noises as he fired after it.

“Fothermucker!” he swore, trying to track it in the dark. “Get the fuck back here, you overgrown luna moth! I'll tear your stupid eyebrows off and feed them to you!”

Beside him, May was squinting, trying to direct the light up to the ceiling. Every so often she'd catch a flutter, and then it was gone again.

“I'll track it! Just reload, maybe find higher ground!”

She covered his back while he turned back to the body at the base of the machine. Grimacing, he examined it. The face had been mostly mauled away, as had most of the chest. It was fresh, as fresh as tonight, possibly. The body was propped upright, dressed in dark clothes, a large emblem on the upper sleeve, still intact.

He froze.

“I got it!” came from behind him, and then May made a startled squeak as he turned and slapped his hand over her mouth and pulled her down to the ground. The flashlight fell out of her hand and clattered and rolled, the light illuminating the coiled phone cord that hung from the lapel of the jacket, and the silver and black patch that had no letters, but was simply a circle, with three arrows piercing into it.

Foundation.

He was suddenly deeply aware of the amount of noise they had made in the past two minutes. There had been no sign of units on their entrance, and May had been thorough in examining the building, but the body was new, which meant they had very little time. Seconds, maybe.

Kass grabbed her by the hand and pulled her up to her feet. He said nothing, pulling her hard deeper into the building until they hit the back wall. There were doors here, into offices. Despite her protests, he shoved May into one, slamming the door behind the pair of them. The slam seemed louder than it should have been—he realized, stomach dropping, that the large bolted front door had been rammed open.

“Kass, what's happening?” May pleaded, hushed. In the dark, he could just barely see the anxiety in her face, inches from his own.

He pushed her aside to examine the room quickly. “What do you think, Maybelline? We weren't the only ones tracking this thing!” Fuck, why weren't there any windows? Wasn't ventilation important in a factory that produced this much heat?

Ventilation. Venting. Pipes. Kass lined the walls, running his fingers against the chipping paint as high as he could reach. No good. “Where's the torch?”

“I....”

He swore again. “You dropped it?”

“You didn't give me time to grab it!” she hissed back, holding out her palm. He watched the outstretched hand turn golden, then near blinding white, and it painted the room in stark light and shadow.

“Fuck me, fuck me blind, where is it.”

The vent was over the chipped desk in the near center of the room. He clambered onto it, a sprawl of stick limbs, and stood upright. Like this, he could press his hands right onto the cover. He pushed hard against it.

It didn't give.

“Shit tits!”

The smash against it with his elbow was a desperate one that ended only in a splitting agony down his arm. He nearly keeled over there, grabbing the limb and holding it close.

God, this was it, wasn't it?

May was yanking out the desk drawers and file cabinets one-handed. There was the sound of gunfire outside the door, which masked her own climbing on the desk beside him. She put her hands on his shoulders, and the pain in his elbow turned into pleasant heat that he barely noticed because she was climbing him to grab the vent cover herself. Her smaller fingers fit into the slots.

“Move, move, let me see if I can use my weight to pull it out.”

“You're too light,” Kass said sharply, but he climbed off the desk to grab her by the torso. He pulled her, and the vent cover with her, down to earth. The thing popped free, and she crashed onto the desk. The impact was loud, louder than the pained gasp she made, but for now the door stayed closed.

Kass panted. The shouting outside the door was getting louder. Closer.

“Okay,” May said, pulling herself to her feet. “Move your skinny butt, get up there. I'll follow.”

There was the slam and crash of metal just outside the door that they both swiveled to face. Kass recovered first, but he stayed frozen in place anyway, because May's expression was one of a cornered animal.

He'd never seen her wear that expression.

Fuck, she had never actually faced the Foundation. They didn't know about her. She was a prize specimen, a never before seen scip, her hands glowing with natural light. She was an agent's dream come true. Did she know that? Was she realizing that?

His face felt cold. He crossed the room, hand in his pocket. When Kass pulled it out, it was to hand his partner the PDA he kept with him near constantly. “No, you first. That tin can looks like a stiff breeze could dent it, with my shit luck it won't even hold my weight. You get up, get out. I'll go through to lead them off.”

“What? No. We can both make it--”

“Do you think that vent's still in the condition it was in the day it was installed? It's cheap metal, and it's probably buckling in places. Can you imagine, I get in Mission Impossible style, get halfway through, and then it just collapses right in the middle of thirty already trigger-happy agents?”

She didn't have a retort to that, though he could see she was trying to form one. “Okay, then we'll both go through, I can cover you.”

“No,” Kass said sharply. His heart was thundering in his ears.

“We're not splitting up! I'm sticking to you, that was the deal!”

He hissed through his teeth, eyes flickering everywhere but her face. He looked up to the vent again. Back to the door. How much time did they have?

“....Fine,” he said finally. “Let's try the vent. Christ knows I've ended up in more idiotic places to die. Go on.”

The tone with which he spoke was a tired, almost annoyed one. It was more like him, so May nodded. She shifted into a smaller form, casting the room back into darkness, and flitted into the vent system, calling out through it. “There's a couple different splits, maybe to the neighboring room, but I think it will lead out the side.”

“Good,” Kass said softly after her. He tossed his gun into the vent after her, and pushed the vent cover back into place. “You'll have no trouble then.”

“Kass? Hey!”

Little talons scraped against the inside of the vent cover. Kass pushed it further into place, his smile grim.

“Listen, I will meet you outside. Whatever you do, whatever you hear, keep moving. Do not try to play fucking hero.”

“Kass, no, no no no, this is stupid, I can help!”

His eyes flicked back to the door. “You know, I knew you'd say something like that. You're a fucking idiot, of course you would.”

Whatever retort she had, he stopped listening, hopping off the desk and striding to the door. He bit into his tongue, cracked the thing open, and peeked through.

The noise was starting to die a bit. Units were cleaning up the remains of the deceased victims. He watched a small squad of four surround a door similar to his own—another office, like May had said. Silently, Kass counted the seconds as they slammed the door open and dived into the room. When the last body had disappeared through the door, he dived out his own, ducking between machinery and the wall.

The factory was filled with too much light, now. Any flying creature that crossed the open space in the rafters would have been spotted in seconds, and brought down just as fast.

Kass was faintly aware that he was trembling. He tried to focus. He used to be so good at focusing, hyper-focusing, hyper-fixating (words he hadn't really understood until more recently, a whole other language about mental health he'd put off learning) but now, in the moments he needed to focus most--

He could see it, you know. He could see her throwing up shields, trying to keep the gunfire off of them as they bolted through the factory. He could see them being blocked in at the door, could see her doing something drastic to get them out. And hell, maybe it would get them out, but then suddenly a thousand pairs of eyes would be looking for her.

And if the SCP Foundation looked for you, you'd eventually be found. This was evidence enough.

“They'll keep you under the tightest lock and key. They'll shove you into the tiniest cell and poke and prod at you until they know every little thing you can do and then they'll leave you there.”

How long ago, had Dib warned May? Kass didn't know, but of the few things he did know, it was that Dib, for once in his obnoxious irritating life, was right.

Barely breathing, Kass leaped from shadow to shadow, trying to force his twig-like body into crevices too small for him. The blood rushing in his ears was loud enough that he was almost certain they would hear it, would look his way just from the sound.

Nobody turned yet. He forced himself to keep moving.

God, why was he doing this. Why was he in the thick of it, knowing there was no chance in hell he'd make it through? There was a tiny angry voice in his head, the one that was his, that sounded most like him and had never stopped being there, despite the kinder months. It was mean, and it was paranoid, and it was screaming at him. He was an idiot, he could have gotten out, and instead he was running out the clock. Had he even considered the result? Had he already forgotten the promises of D-Class?

Had he really thought he could outrun the Foundation forever?

It wailed in his head, while he ducked behind a metal cabinet, away from the moving lights. He told it kindly to sod off.

He was never going to get away from the Foundation, but she could. It mattered more, that she could.

He was an idiot, it repeated, softer now. He was an actual moron, he'd given in, he'd turned into a bleeding heart, and it had doomed him.

Kass had no response to that. He elected instead to ignore it.

He made it almost halfway through the factory before his luck ran out. Up on a scaffolding, somebody shouted, and Kass ran. There was no point to it, really, but like some sort of wild animal, he ran instinctively. There was a burn in his legs as he leaped over a metal table and hit the floor hard, and he was almost blind with adrenaline when someone finally tackled him from the side and knocked him hard into another vial machine.

He didn't make it easy, despite the inevitability of it all. He clawed, kicked, swung without looking, and he knew from the impact that some of his blows hit. From that, at least, he could get a grim sort of satisfaction, even as his head finally made hard contact with the ground and his vision filled with nasty black and red spots.

No, this had always been inevitable. Kass has never truly believed he would have some sort of picturesque happy ending, away from the Foundation. It had, after all, shaped him. It was too big a part of who he was, and he, stupid Kass, had made too many enemies inside it for it to ever really let him go. It had shoved its claws into his ribs years and years ago.

The spots were spreading across his vision. He tried to get up—a boot, he thought, pushed him back down with almost no trouble.

It was never going to let him go. This was the last time it was going to get to dig its claws into him, because this time, Kass knew.

He knew, struggling to stay conscious for a few moments longer, that this time, the Foundation was not going to let him go alive.

[TRANSMISSION INTERRUPTED—RECONNECTING...]

#may writes #may loves teslaverse #And In the End

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garden-uprooted · 5 years ago

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“One body, two souls”

Send “One body, two souls” to see what I think the fusion of our muses would be like // Still Accepting!

Gemstone Name & Reasoning: Purple Fluorite

Fluorite is generally seen as a mystical stone by itself. It’s commonly connected to the Third Eye Chakra- what with its association to magic and knowing yourself. The first thing I think of when I hear “fluorite” is “protection”, and then “spirituality”, next. Purple fluorite, specifically, popped to mind in order to match Ashura’s more “scholarly” and “above it all” disposition.

“Known as the “Genius Stone,” Fluorite represents the highest state of mental achievement, boosting aptitude and discernment, the absorption of new information, and helping one work through complex issues. Its energy stimulates the electrical charge of brain cells, drawing in more life force (prana) as it encourages both hemispheres to work harmoniously together in balance. Expanding the consciousness, it advances the mind to greater mental, spiritual and psychic awareness. It stirs creativity and provides a limitless range of avenues for exploration.”

“Purple (Violet) Fluorite is the most peace-giving of the Fluorites, dedicated to the devotional aspects of the mind that connect with Spirit. It purifies the mind and enhances mental acuity, stimulating the Third Eye Chakra in order to bring a logical and conscious awareness of the mental processes and how one thinks. It is an excellent crystal for focused meditation and boosts one’s intuitive and psychic abilities.”

The descriptions I found just really clicked to me, with my limited understanding of Ashura’s character. In a fusion, I think Ashura would be the most dominant- undoubtedly being stronger, physically, than Spinel could hope to be.

Of course, it’s a fusion, so don’t think I forgot all about her!

Personality:

Purple Fluorite is much more brash and abrasive than Ashura- no longer bordering on snarky and passive aggressive; she’s outright aggressive. Though NOT one to just jump into a situation/fight, she ISN’T one to go around trying to joke or make others laugh.

I wouldn’t say that she’s the healthiest fusion, there is. Spinel and Ashura, at first glance, are clashing personalities. While they both can bond over having a difficult relationship with empathy and being wary to trust others, Spinel inherently WANTS to befriend people and make new friends. She WANTS to be the class clown, and isn’t afraid to go out of her way to help people just because she can/wants to.

When fused with Ashura, however, she doesn’t really HAVE much room to BE “herself”. Not in the way she’s trying SO HARD to be. Purple Fluorite is, internally, self-destructive. She’s rude and callous to everybody; Spinel’s endless paranoia being center-stage,and only being egged on by Ashura’s naturally cold attitude towards most people/strangers.

The Spinel part of her would feel trapped- looking for ANY WAY to be disruptive, to have a meltdown, to get her boundless energy OUT. It makes Fluorite borderline jumpy, but moreso persnickety and uptight, thanks to Ashura’s impeccable mental restraint.

In combat, if they ever should allow themselves to be a part of it, they’d be ruthless and cunning. Both Spinel and Ashura know quite a thing or two about strategy, after all, and one of them is a demon heiress. They’d, surprisingly, only really be the most “in tune” with each other during a fight, honestly. If there’s one main goal that they both can agree to focus on (aka: taking down an opponent swiftly and efficiently), then I could see Fluorite being somewhat stable; if only for as long as they can manage to cooperate.

Any other time, though? Yeah, Fluorite’s pretty much one wrong move away from splitting apart.

She’s a mix and match of constantly changing emotions and thoughts, hidden behind a blank/bored expression, or a nasty scowl.

Physical Appearance:

Both Spinel and Ashura aren’t the… tallest people around, let’s put it that way. I’d peg their fusion to be anywhere around 5′8″ to MAYBE 5′10″. 6′0″ is pushing it. Their color scheme is, naturally, purple, but also involves darker magenta undertones- both to match Spinel, and the accents on Ashura’s “default” attire.

I could see them wearing a kind of “official” overcoat or cape, along with the tailcoats from Ashura’s outfit. More “warlord” themed than anything akin to Spinel’s typical court jester getup. Of course, Fluorite still has Spinel’s ridiculous clown shoes. The taper is just thinner and pointier, and they gain the bottoms of Ashura’s combat boots to add to that official look.

Since their fusion is more than a little unhealthy, they gain a more.. traditionally “demonic” appearance when it comes to their eyes and extra appendages. Fluorite has four arms- the extra pair just sprouting out of her sides. They sport claw-like fingers- Ashura’s fingerless “gloves” (I know it’s moreso just how her top works) becoming part of Spinel’s; tears in Spinel’s goofy gloves near the beginning of the fingers leading into Ashura’s aesthetic. She also has four eyes, with the main/bigger ones being Ashura’s.

They’re sort of turned in towards the center of their face, though- much like the stereotypical image of a spider, just lacking the expected six to eight pairs.

Oh, and fangs/sharp teeth. Did I mention fangs/sharp teeth?

Obviously they keep Ashura’s wings and tail, along with Spinel’s crazy hair. Ashura’s signature bangs and shorter hair play a starring role, but rather than being straight and flat, they have some volume to them, and they’re tangled and jagged. It’s a bit longer in the back, with Spinel’s pigtails put into messy attempts at braids down her back.

Oh, also eyeliner and running mascara. Eyeliner and running mascara for days. Thank Spinel for that.

Combat:

Their weapon of choice is a gun. Because that’s badass and shut up.

But, of course, Ashura’s magical prowess can’t go unnoticed or unmentioned. I’d imagine that, in the off-chances that they’d have to/choose to fight their way through a situation, nine times out of ten Fluorite would just go all Lapis Lazuli and one-hit KO their foe with some sort of spell or attack.

Fluorite would mostly rely on their wits, intelligence, and speed. Their durability isn’t the best, since Spinel’s just so used to being able to stretch and zigzag away from all of the powerful hits. And Fluorite is STILL able to move the way Spinel can. It’s just much more limited- as in, Spinel can basically become a liquid whenever she wants. Fluorite is, technically, half-organic, and thus lacks that FULL fluidity.

Hand-eye-coordination is handled down-pat. Spinel’s method of fighting, when it comes to using Suzie (her scythe), is definitely more hand-on than anything. And, of course, it should go without saying, but Ashura’s gun, to be efficient, would require some expertise in that area.

And speaking of Suzie, I could really only honestly see Fluorite using her if she wants to get Down And Dirty with their opponent. Mainly only used to get that RAW feeling of HACKING and SLASHING. Most likely in situations of high anger/stress while they lack an easy means of venting/repressing their spiraling emotions. Mostly just as a hypothetical, though, as I can’t really see any kind of situation bringing out the WORST in Fluorite due to her self-restraint.

#[Out Of Laughter]#[Ask Meme]#[Roleplay Meme]#[Question Answered]#[Let's Put Our Heads Together!]#princess2x4 #WOOF that got long so i put it under a read more #yeah i only know ashura via your bio #so i TRIED #hope it's okay???

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notmoreflippingelves · 6 years ago

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The Case for Kristoph Gavin as a Shakespearean Tragic Hero/ Anti-villain (Pt 1: Iago, Richard III & Edmund)

So, as I former English major, I’ve been trying to put my finger on why exactly Ace Attorney’s Kristoph Gavin makes such a compelling character. And when I made an allusion to Othello in a Kriswright fic I’m writing, I suddenly came irrevocably to a stunning realization.

Kristoph Gavin is a fantastic villain, because he was written in the mold of a great Shakespearean antagonist--complex, conflicted, and dripping in delicious ambiguity. Not only that but there are some pretty AMAZING parallels between character motivations and arcs of some of the most memorable Shakespearean villains/tragic heroes and Kristoph.

(I’ve decided to break the analysis into two parts, cause this part alone is WAY too long (So long I didn’t even get to all of my feelings about Kris as Brutus from Julius Caesar yet..)This part is for Iago, Richard III & Edmund the Bastard, the three characters who are constantly vying with each other for the title of “most EVUL character in all of Shakespeare.” Whereas in Part 2, I plan to focus on the more sympathetic antagonists ( including BRUTUS! I Can’t wait! It’s my favorite set of parallels. )

But enough intro, let’s jump into some analysis. (YAY!!!) I’m putting this under the cut, because as I said it’s LONG.

Kristoph as Iago-- Okay, let’s tackle the giant elephant in the room first, shall we? The parallels are so glaring . (This parallel is kind of boring compared to the other two cause it’s so obvious. But it’s important to cover anyway.)

So we have Kristoph and we have Othello’s Iago. Two-faced “Big Bad friends” driven by envy to ruin another’s life. One slightly surprising l thing that I’d forgotten at first is that one of Iago’s proposed motivations is--like Kristoph’s-- thwarted professional ambition. Like Kristoph with the Gramarye case, Iago loses out on a job opportunity and decides to ruin the lives of those who passed him over.

There’s also the VERY common scholarly interpretation that Iago is also driven at least in part by toxic love of/ excessive lust for Othello (It’s especially blatant in the Kenneth Branagh’s portrayal). One can definitely see a similar interpretation of Kristoph’s “friendship” with Phoenix--either in a “if I can’t have you, no one will” way or in “I will deliberately and methodically destroy everything you love until I’m the only the only thing left. Then, you’ll have to choose me” way.

But there’s also hints that Iago could have mixed motives, completely different motives, or even no motive at all. Now who does that remind me of? Kristoph “you’ll never break my five black psyche-locks”--Gavin.

“Determined to be a villain”--Kristoph, Richard, and Edmund intro - When it comes to their motivations, King Lear’s Edmund and Richard III are remarkably similar characters to each other in terms of their motivations--even if their methods/results differ somewhat. So I’m gonna talk about their motivations together for a bit before I talk about Kristoph parallels in terms of individual character arcs.

Both King Lear’s Edmund and Richard III are victims of a world that they believe had left them no other choice but villainy (Edmund because he was born illegitimately and Richard because he was born with multiple physical deformities) When Richard III says that great line in his opening soliloquy “I am determined to prove a villain,” he doesn’t mean “I’m so excited about the fun evil I’m gonna do. Yay! YOLO.” (At least, he doesn’t mean ONLY that.)

“Determined” is actually part of the verb in this sentence, not the adjective.If you tweak the sentence structure to match how we’d express this in 21st century English, you can see that Richard is actually referring to himself as a passive subject: “I have been determined a villain by _______.” There’s an invisible indirect object there--the one that Richard believes has forced his hand: fate, his birth, his looks, divine judgement, or something else entirely. (Edmund also has a very similar monologue about how “nature” has made him a villain because of the circumstances of his birth but not gonna dive too deeply into that rn.)

Okay, so during that time and place, illegitimate children and those w/ physical disabilities thought they had little control over free will/personal morality. Makes sense. But how does Kristoph come into this?

Well, he might if he had a serious mental illness instead. I have seen plausible cases being made for a Kristoph with PTSD (due to unexplained trauma suggested by his black psyche locks), anxiety, Borderline Personality Disorder, Narcissistic Personality Disorder, OCD, and/or paranoia. Any one of these could make someone believe that the dice are stacked against them and that the only way to enjoy success/happiness is to take drastic action to ensure it.

Of course, none of the above excuses or justifies any of what Richard, Edmund, or Kristoph do in their respective arcs. It just makes it easier to understand why they might do those things.

Now we’re gonna look at Richard and Edmund respectively and compare their specific parallels with Kristoph.

Kristoph as Richard the III:

So the most obvious parallel between Richard and Kristoph is a visual one. During his final break down, Kristoph hunches over in a way reminscient of someone--who like Richard--has scoliosis. There’s also the creepy spasm on his face when he loses his cool, which does give him a very Richard-esque look.

In terms of parallels in their actual arcs, Kristoph may not have murdered his two nephews like tricky King Dicky does but his poisoning of Vera Misham does show that he--like Richard-- is willing to hurt a child if said child threatens his ambition.

And one more little thing: Kristoph like Richard (and also like Edmund who’ll we will get to in a second) does have a magnetic personality which he uses to charm the pants off his would-be enemies.

The biggest example of that is when he is somehow able to convince Lady Anne to marry him- while standing next to the body of her of her dead father-in--law whom Richard himself killed alongside her husband too!

Kristoph may have not done anything quite that twisted, but “befriending” a man whose life he personally ruined is definitely Richard III-esque--especially if one believes that Kristoph also has a sexual/romantic interest in Phoenix and/or that their “friendship” had a physical, non-platonic component to it.

Kristoph as Edmund the Bastard:

And now for the grand finale. Edmund you magnificent bastard (literally as well as figuratively). I cannot believe I nearly missed this particular parallel. It’s just... stunning.

So, the main b-plot of King Lear involves the rivalry between two brothers--Edgar the legitimate son and Edmund the other one. Edgar is impulsive and hot-headed with a insightful, sometimes caustic sense of humor, whereas Edgar is cold, collected and quietly compelling. (Does this remind y’all of a certain pair of lawyer siblings yet? Hmm... Just wait.)

Just like in AJ, the conflict between the brothers in Lear reaches a breaking point due to...get this.. a forged document. (Le gasp! Is it really so? What a freaky coincidence. Yeah that was my thought too!)

So, Edmund writes a fake letter from “his brother” that alleges he’s plotting to overthrow their father and then hands the letter over to dear old Dad who exiles Edgar which kicks off the plot.

But wait, you say? Phoenix was the one Kristoph ruined w/ the forged document, not Klavier, and you’d be right about that mostly. If you actually look at the timeline carefully, you’ll see that Kristoph ordering the forgery pre-dates his being fired as Zak Gramarye’s attorney. And as others have pointed out , there’s only one reason why he might do that.

Kristoph was planning to use the fake diary page himself in court and present “indisputably compelling” fake evidence to get his client off. He was gonna use this forgery against his own brother, just to ensure he got what he wanted. Just like Edmund... (*mind blown*)

It’s only after he’s fired as Zak’s lawyer that Kristoph switches his animosity to Phoenix, setting him up to take the fall, because a Gavin court victory is still more valuable than that of a nobody--even if the wrong Gavin has to win the day.

So yeah...that’s all she wrote so far. Hopefully, I’ll be able to pull my Claudius and Brutus thoughts together soon for a follow up.

#kristoph gavin #ace attorney #ace attorney meta #phoenix wright #english major first world problems #i'll probably go back and do another one for kristoph as other antagonists/villain protagonist later #i mean from ones from lit other than shakespeare #cause i definitely see a LOT of faust in him as well #and nearly as much heathcliff #and miltonic satan #plus some javert; ahab and my precious submarine husband nemo #but tbh godot might be an even more better nemo parallel #esp with the significant name change #dakkar--> nemo because he's lost his identity and accepted that he is 'no one'#diego--> godot b/c he's an exploration of the absurdity and meaningless of existence #and the driven by lost love and now determined to watch the world burn #i'd die if someone ever drew it #nemo is my everything and godot is hot af

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bosstoaster · 7 years ago

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Darkest Before the Dawn

A @shaladinsecretsanta fic for @sashencat! Hope you enjoy

Pairing: Sheith Rating: T

Summary: That paladins are invited to be part of security for a masked ball. Shiro and Keith have a bet going, and Shiro gets introspective.

Shiro glanced around the room, taking a deep breath. He let it out slowly as he turned in a slow circle, taking in the crowd.

Guests milled around the expansive ballroom, forming into small groups to chat then splitting up again. The snack table was overflowing with goodies, and constantly had a small crowd around it. The clothing reminded Shiro of period pieces on Earth, with huge dresses and fancy robes, all overflowing with gems and embroidery. It was a clear this yearly celebration was a reason to splurge - a way to show status. And they were among the world's most powerful, so the costumes were elaborate and brilliantly covered.

All in all, it wouldn't be that different from many parties the paladins had been invited to. There were just two crucial differences.

The first was that Shiro wasn't dressed in his armor. It was considered the height of uncouth to be seen in anything other than ridiculous finery at this event, and so everyone had been corralled into appropriate clothing. Some more easily than others.

The second was that everyone was wearing masks.

Shiro reached up, idly tracing silver beak jutting out from his face. Cloth covered the back of his head, with hair-fine chains looping around and around like a circlet. He knew from putting it on that the detailing on the mask was amazing, down to the sharp tip of the beak and the beady, intimidating eyes.

Maybe Shiro wasn't making himself easy to approach, but that was the point. The paladins weren't just there for the brownie points with the locals. They were also security, if need be.

Which was why Shiro had a small device in his pocket that would immediately identify every single one of the team if need be. Not that it was too difficult to find some of them - he'd long since spotted Lance in a delicate looking mask nearly glowing with gems. He had been telling a story with elaborate hand gestures, bejeweled gloves flashing through the air as he worked the crowd.

Pidge had been another easy target to find. She was settled in her usual spot, hovering near the snack tables. Even without the robotic-looking mask, Shiro would have known her instantly from the way she darted in for one food at a time, trying each of them slowly and individually. While she'd had a few conversations while Shiro watched, she'd mostly kept to herself.

The rest of the team was proving a little more difficult. Shiro had eventually spotted Hunk dancing with a local with brilliant blue plumage, splayed out like a peacock. In the end, Shiro had only been able to tell from his voice, getting louder and faster as he explained the finer points of some machine or another. From the way Hunk's partner had nodded dazedly, they probably weren't following at all. Instead they kept trying to duck their head in intimately, but Hunk either didn't notice or was purposefully blocking them. It was hard to say, and until Hunk seemed actually uncomfortable, Shiro wasn't inclined to interrupt.

Allura and Coran were still a mystery. They blended in seamlessly with the rest of the crowd, chatting comfortably. Shiro had narrowed it down to a handful of pairs he saw making rounds through the room. Until Shiro got close enough to listen in on their conversations, or they did something to make them stand out from any other officials, he could only make a guess, especially since he couldn't track Allura by her voluminous hair or height - he couldn't trust them to be the same, tonight.

Then there was Keith.

Keith, who should have been the easiest to spot, or at least easier than Shiro.

Keith, who was the reason Shiro didn't already know exactly where his team was at all times.

No, that wasn't fair. It had been Shiro who had joked that he could find Keith in five minutes during the party. He hadn't expected Keith to take it as a dare, and then to convince Shiro to actually go along with it.

It was silly. Mind, the Galra were desperately unlikely to actually attack tonight, so it didn't actually matter if Shiro knew where everyone was. They were smart and capable, and if something went down, they'd be fine.

But it had been almost an hour, and Shiro had no idea where Keith was. He kept looking for beings on their own with the right build. But it seemed that coming to these events without a visible date was quite common, and the locals were almost all on the short side.

That, or Keith was actually going around and socializing to throw Shiro off the scent. Which Shiro doubted, but he'd seen Keith do stranger to win a bet.

"Looking for someone?"

Starting, Shiro turned around. The person before him was wearing a canine-esque mask, with piercing black eyes and designs all over like foreign constellations. They were Keith's build, but the voice was off. Deeper than Keith's, but also somehow softer. Without the bluntness that characterized so much of what Keith said.

That could be faked, but would Keith think to do it? Would he mess up his own bet by walking up to Shiro and talking to him?

Maybe. Hard to say.

"I might be," Shiro replied, pitching his own voice up slightly. He did his best to imitate the slight accent the translators gave the locals.

He could have not bothered. But there was something fun about the deception. A hint of mischief. There was an anonymity in this room that Shiro hadn't experienced in years. At the Garrison he was the Golden Boy' in the arena he'd been the Champion, since then he was the Black Paladin. All his titles came with preconceptions that Shiro felt pressure to match, or risk disappointing those around him.

Now? Now he was someone else. Someone who wouldn't even have a name.

And if it helped Shiro win a bet, he was all for that.

"Not sure?" Dog Mask asked, head tilted to the side. "Is there some way I could help you figure it out?"

Shiro smiled, despite the fact that they couldn't see it. "Maybe. I could use company while I decide. Would you like to dance?"

That was a trap, really. Shiro loved dancing - he'd taken classes for years, of whatever style was offered after school when he had the chance. When he'd gone to the Garrison, he hadn't had an opportunity to practice. Befriending Keith had been a chance for someone to at least hold onto while he practice footwork, just so he wouldn't forget. But Keith had never agreed to dance with him, less because he didn't enjoy it and more because Shiro's constant requests annoyed him.

There was a hint of hesitation from the other person, before then extended their hand. "I'd love to."

It was hard to tell through the slight echo from the mask, but the person sounded honest.

Maybe not Keith, then. But Shiro wasn't going to miss the opportunity to dance.

Shiro took the offered hand and let himself be pulled onto the dance floor. There was a huge variety of dances going on, thankfully, so Shiro wouldn't give away his lack of knowledge of the local steps. Instead, he copied what he saw around them: both his hands on his partner's hips, keeping a slight distance between them as they began to sway. It was, he quickly found, less out of propriety and more to keep their voluminous robes of out the way.

"So who is it that you're looking for?" Dog Mask asked, their hands settled casually on Shiro's chest. Despite that Dog Mask was wearing gloves, and Shiro was wearing multiple layers, he swore he could feel the heat.

Shiro tilted his head. "A friend," he offered carefully. "I thought it'd be easy to spot him, but it turned out I was wrong."

Dog Mask laughed. "I've had a similar experience today. I thought my group would be obvious in the crowd."

Humming his agreement, Shiro focused on the dance for a moment, just enjoying the easy, slow spiral they were making. Nothing complex, not with how easy it'd be to trip over these clothes. But actual dancing. It had been far too long. "What about you? Looking for someone?"

"In so many words." Dog Mask stepped a little closer. "Company for the night, mostly. Someone to talk with. Or less talking." Their fingers spread, taking up more of Shiro's chest.

He wondered if they could feel his heart pounding.

Maybe.

This was almost certainly not Keith, now. Or could this be a bluff to throw him off the scent?

It was-

It was nice, really. Shiro didn't get flirted with nearly as much as he used to. Once, he'd enjoyed the attention, the back-and-forth with a witty conversationalist. But since the arena, Shiro didn't have many opportunities. When he was at events, it was near always officially. Usually he hovered by Allura's elbow, offering both the status of a body guard and diplomacy when he could.

Shiro leaned forward into the touch, and tugged Dog Mask just a bit closer. If this was Keith, Shiro was going to call his bluff. If it wasn't-

Well, Keith could find him, or Shiro could take a quick break to have some fun.

He just didn't want to walk away from the chance to feel normal for a little while. To be judged on his conversation and body language, not his appearance. Multiple times, Shiro had pulled off his helmet, just to watch whatever alien flinch from the twisted scar over his face. Here, that wasn't a worry.

It was like a weight lifted off his shoulders, if only for a little while.

Shiro wasn't anyone. He wasn't even Shiro. He was just a man in a bird mask.

Maybe this was why Keith had wanted to play this game in the first place.

"I don't mind talking," Shiro replied, tightening his grip on his partner's hips. Trying to move closer would tangle their robes, so instead he just let the weight of his hands settle. "It seems like we have a lot in common."

Dog Mask tilted his head, and Shiro got the impression of a smile, even without any hint of an expression. "Like what?"

"Well, neither of us are as observant as we thought we were."

There was a pause, like Dog Mask was absorbing that. Then they threw their head back, laughing. Shiro automatically looked down at their neck, trying to see skin. But the high color and loose fabric covered them, leaving him without any clues.

"True," Dog Mask replied, still choked with laughter. "And we're both here alone, which is a shame."

"It is," Shiro agreed easily. "So we're both a little lonely, maybe."

Dog Mask stilled. "I wouldn't say I'm lonely now. Before you, I was."

Shiro's chest tightened, heart pounding under the stranger's hand.

Before Keith, Shiro had been so very lonely.

This probably wasn't Keith, which meant they were just someone looking for a fun evening. So if Shiro let something slip, let himself vent just a little in this strange moment, there was no harm done. He was already pretending to be nobody, he could always claim he was lying.

So Shiro reached up and cupped the jaw of the canine mask. "I was too. Thank you for saving me from that."

Dog Mask paused again, like they weren't sure what to do with the contact. Then, slowly, gently, they leaned into the hand. "You're welcome. I'd do it again."

As many times as it takes.

Shiro swallowed hard against the knot in his throat.

Whoever this was, Shiro wished it was Keith. He wished he could say the things he didn't dare to, not with their past and their friendship on the line. Not with Voltron needing them working together as a team. Not without ruining everything.

"Maybe next time I'll save you. I'd like that. Next time we're apart, I'll come to you instead."

There was an audible catch in Dog Mask's breath. "You already saved me, just by being here." They reached up and settled their hands on either side of Shiro's shoulders, thumbs tracing idle circles through the fabric. Shiro felt each movement like a brand.

Slowly, almost inevitably, they drifted to the edges of the dance floor. Other couples moved past, dancing more enthusiastically in time with the chipper beat. The two of them continued to sway to their own quiet, intimate song. Everyone else seemed to give them wide berth, as if they were just as afraid to break the moment as Shiro was.

"I'm glad. And I think we're both risk takers, maybe. Taking a chance, playing a game, trying to find someone who might not want to be found." Shiro tilted his head. "Am I wrong?"

Dog Mask gave another soft laugh, this one huskier, higher, like something had changed. "I can be. But not about the important things, it seems like. Looking for company in a mask sounds like something a coward would do."

Ouch. Direct hit. Shiro took a deep breath. "Being scared isn't the same thing as being a coward."

"True," Dog Mask replied, voice barely a whisper. "That's something different about us. You seem wiser than me."

"Seeming isn't the same as being," Shiro said. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm a coward and I don't want to admit it."

But Dog Mask shook their head. "No, I don't think you are." They reached up, thumbs tracing the lines of Shiro's jaw on either side. "There's one more very big difference that I've noticed."

"About half a foot?"

Dog Mask snorted and kicked out. Their boot impacted Shiro's shin without any real force. "Besides that. You're a gentleman, because I've been putting my hands all over you, and you've barely touched back."

Well, that was a challenge if Shiro had ever heard one.

Another mark against this being Keith. Why would he egg someone on to feel him up? Keith kept his walls up, even around the team. Even around Shiro. He rarely initiated contact, and while he accepted affection, it was usually on a temporary basis. A hug that went on a hair too long made him tense.

But, well, Shiro was in this mess because he was bad at dares. And whoever this was, Shiro already wanted to give them what they asked for, as much as he was able.

So he placed a hand on the small of their back and shoved Dog Mask forward, until they were pressed together. The edges of their robes smacked against their shins, and Shiro could hear Dog Mask's panting breath echoing in the snout.

"It was just touching, but if you insist." Shiro tilted his head, the edged tip of his beak nearly brushing the other mask. It wasn't a move he hadn't tried on anyone in years, not while he knew his scar would be ugly and red up close. But right now, there was no reason not to.

Right now, Shiro wanted to see if he could make Dog Mask's breath catch again. He wanted to have that effect on someone, like he hadn't since before training for the Kerberos mission.

Dog Mask's breathing stopped altogether. Then they shifted their grip, one hand grabbing onto the fabric and chains on the back of Shiro's head. They used it like a backwards leash, pushing him down until their masks tapped each cheek. The other settled over Shiro's back, just barely above his ass.

This time, it was Shiro's breath that stopped.

"Don't make promises you don't plan on keeping," Dog Mask said, pure challenge in their voice.

"I never do," Shiro replied immediately.

There was a huff, not quite laughter. "Never? Even if you thought it was for my own good?"

This close, there was still an echo, still that metallic edge to Dog Mask's voice. But despite that, it was achingly familiar.

Shiro's heart stopped.

"I want-"

The machine in the front of the room clanged. Once. Twice. Three times.

When it hit 15, it would be this planet's version of midnight, and the masks would be revealed.

Shiro started to pull away. Dog Mask held on, then let him go.

"Please," Dog Mask said, still familiar. No longer pretending. "Tell me the truth."

Five times. Six times.

Shiro closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "I have been. All night."

Eight. Nine.

"I have been too. And I think we have one more thing in common."

Ten. Eleven.

Smile sickly under his mask, Shiro dropped his hands by his sides. "Maybe. I think there's one important difference."

Twelve. Thirteen.

"No, there isn't."

Fourteen.

Fifteen.

There was cheers and cries around the room as masks were pulled off. Shiro sighed and pulled his off as well. He had to be a mess - hair sweat mused, cheeks flush from heat, eyes just beginning to go red. "I think they gave us mixed up masks."

Keith pulled his off as well and shook his hair. Just like every time he'd worn a helmet at the Garrison, it fanned out and managed to look mussed and touchable rather than messy. The absolute bastard. Before, Shiro had just been envious. Now he had to physically stilled his hands. "Maybe," Keith replied. "Shiro-"

Closing his eyes, Shiro tilted his head down toward his feet. "I- don't worry about any of it. It was just playing."

There was a long pause, until Shiro finally looked up at Keith. He stared back, as if he'd been waiting for it the whole time.

Then Keith stepped forward, gaze steady. "You said we weren't being cowards, just scared. What's the difference?"

Shiro gave a thin smile. "Doing what scares you anyway. That's the difference. Keith-"

Two hands cupped Shiro's jaw, then pulled him down into a kiss.

The mask dropped out of Shiro's hands, clattering on the floor between them. For a long moment, he stayed still. His heart pounded he stared at the stark contrast of Keith's eyelashes against his skin.

Then, Shiro grabbed onto Keith's robes and pulled him in tighter, kissing back.

It was time to stop being a coward and stop making excuses.

It was time to unmask.

When they pulled back, Shiro pressed this sweat-sticky forehead to Keith's and panted, smiling. "Hi."

"Hello." Keith smiled back, confused but amused. "That's it? That's all you're going to say?"

Shiro tilted his head. "Yeah, I think so. Do we need words?"

Slowly, Keith's smile widened. "Not right now. You'll probably want them later. You usually do."

"Later, then." Shiro leaned in for another kiss, more passionate this time.

Unsurprisingly, Keith matched him perfectly.

The party continued around them, laughter and music and chatter blurring into distant, hazy background noise. Vaguely, Shiro thought he heard the team talking, thought he heard their names, but no one spoke to them directly, so Shiro ignored it.

This moment, this final minute after the strike of the clock, this blur of anonymity and truth -

This was for them.

Everything else could wait.

#BT Writes #Sheith #shaladinsecretsanta2k17 #Voltron

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