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lbxbx · 7 months ago

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Blackmail 2 | KTH

Pairing: Idol!taehyung x reader

Genre: smut, angst. Five shot

Synopsis: being part of their staff meant you had to be around them all the time, Taehyung has a checklist of all the girls he slept with and filmed and you were next on the list, as he lures you using several ways one of them being actually showing you the content he films, before you finally give in and he actually films you to tick you off of his list. Little do you know it’s the biggest mistake ever.

Disclaimer: events and incidents in this fiction are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. This does not resemble Taehyung’s character whatsoever.

taglist: @idkdudewhy @wisebouquetbarbarian @tan-veee @pookiej @xstfudaisyx @junecat18 @whipwhoops @mother2monsters @lil0u0

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“Put more on the grill.” You whine at your friends, you’re a little greedy at this point and a little tipsy. You and your friends were at a nearby barbeque restaurant in the city having pork belly and alcohol for your last night before travelling away to London for the tour.

“You need to stop eating.” Luna slaps your hand down so you drop the tongs and your pair of chopsticks. “You’re going to get sick and we have a flight to catch tomorrow night.”

You roll your eyes and hold the tongs again and put the last piece of pork belly on the grill, your group of friends were arguing over a major heated topic that you barely could hear when you’re sitting at the end of the table. “I can’t hear you.”

“She’s talking about her night with Kook.” Luna pulls your chair closer for you to hear Sona speak. “He’s incredible and charming and romantic. I’ve never had anyone like him.”

“He doesn’t film you nor do any weird shit does he?” One of the girls asks and right away you could tell that she’s talking about Taehyung which makes you scoff, and speaking of the devil he texts you at the exact second.

9:24 | KTH:

Wyd?

9:25 | KTH:

Wanna meet up tonight?

Your fingers type back immediately.

9:25 | You:

Can’t I’m out with my friends.

As if that’s the only thing stopping you from meeting up with him.

9:25 | KTH

We’ll hang out in your place when you’re done. Deal?

You’re a little too drunk to say no, so you actually end up on leaving him on read, knowing damn well he will join you even if you refused.

You get to your place and the alcohol is now running through your system and your body feels hot to the touch, you’re drunk, but not drunk enough to pass out or anything. You just feel loose and sleepy.

You don’t recall giving him your address but when you’re about to close the door to your place, the foot that stood in the way back in Osaka is now standing in the way again, stopping you from pushing the door further to shut it. Of course it’s him, this time you could easily recognize him with only a cap covering his head.

He doesn’t hesitate to invite himself in as he speaks. “I love your place.”

You eyes roll to the back of your head when you huff, and you close the door after him before putting your purse and phone down. “Did I tell you it was okay to come?”

“You didn’t tell me to come over.” He looks at you confused and you nod your head. “Yeah, exactly.” And he pouts. “I was done early with the rehearsals I thought I should drop by and say hi.”

“Hi.” You fake a smile before straightening your face. “Goodbye.” And as if that’s his cue to make himself comfortable, he yanks off his shoes and lands onto your couch. “I’ll have wine please.”

“We’re flying tomorrow we can’t drink.” You didn’t think this through before you said it, he laughs and tilts his head. “Honey, I can smell the Soju from over here.”

“Damn it, alright.” You go to your kitchen and grab a bottle of wine and one single glass for him.

“I thought you threw it away.” He calls from the living room and you rush out to see him holding the box that was near your apartment door, opening it with a smirk on his face and looking through the stuff. “I’m glad you didn’t, those are actually expensive.”

“I’m not into your weird kinky shit, Taehyung.” You put the wine bottle down and sit down onto your couch. He takes the seat next to you and puts the box down onto the coffee table, rummaging through the stuff inside until he fishes out the butt plug. Or vibrator damn it.

“Have you tried one before?” He asks as he turns on the little purple device and it starts vibrating into his hand, he keeps clicking a couple times to change the pattern before turning his head towards you. “Y/N?”

“No offense, but I think toys are pathetic.” You laugh, of course he’s offended, he even scoffs and shakes his head left and right, denying the fact that you actually just said that.

And to prove you wrong, he clicks once onto the device and now it’s pulsating in a different pattern, before he presses it against your vagina through the dress you’re wearing, the sudden contact of the purple device makes your entire body stiffen right away, you’re not sure if you felt like that before, you even hold the fabric of your dress into your fists.

Taehyung seizes the opportunity and wraps an arm around your shoulder as he leans his forehead against the side of your head, inhaling your scent and watching you suffer to hide that it actually feels fantastic.

He dares to click onto the device again and the pattern changes right away making you flinch in your seat, this pattern was stronger and more frequent and faster than the one before, your body heats up and you feel yourself clenching onto nothing in your panties. Your eyes expose you as they shut down and your head falls back against the couch, and as Taehyung’s head slips away from your face his eyes now lock onto your lips.

The lips he stared at all the time from a far are right here in front of him begging to be kissed and bitten, and he goes feral once you bite onto your lower lip trying to stop the little whimpers that are about to escape your lips.

You can’t control your body anymore, you press your thighs tighter against each other which makes the tiny stupid device press harder against your clit that’s now throbbing into your panties, you’re already soaked there and if you actually stood up you can see the damp little spot on the back of your sky blue dress.

And Taehyung can’t control himself too as he finally presses his lips against yours and kisses you, he feels himself finally getting satiated as he sucks onto them, he roams his tongue inside your mouth and you surprisingly kiss back, which again makes him seize the chance and moves the device under your dress and presses it against your panties. Your breath hitches and your head falls to the side, exposing your neck to him and he dives right in to lick all the way from your collarbone to the back of your ear.

Your body tenses and the grip onto your dress is getting tighter, your breath is quickening and your ears are starting to buzz, it feels so tight in your stomach and you know you’re about to let go. “Mmm.” Uncontrollably escapes your lips and you cover your mouth using the back of your hand. “Are you gonna cum?” His deep voice rings into your ear, his hand that’s holding the vibrator moves left and right to add friction onto your cunt, it’s too overwhelming to you and you feel yourself seconds from cumming, so you hold onto his wrist and try to stop him, your mind is telling you don’t but your body isn’t even listening, you could force him to stop but you physically can’t.

The orgasm takes over your entire body and you feel your lungs deflating, you gasp for a breath and dig your nails into his skin, your sharp breaths are driving him feral and he could go down on his knees right now and beg to fuck you. “Right there, that’s it, cum for me.”

“St.. stop.” You barely whimper, as if the alcohol wasn’t enough for your face to be flushed red and now the orgasm screws you up even more. Taehyung doesn’t even move his hand away as he sees your body shudder next to him, totally overwhelmed by the intense orgasm, your head turns towards him with your eyes half open, his glance meets yours with the dirty smirk on his face, biting onto his lower lip and switching his gaze to your lips.

And holy fuck you have no idea what went through you, your head no longer functions and you can’t comprehend anything but the fact that you’re willing to do anything he wants. The way this man stares at you made you feel like the true woman you are, it made you feel sexy.

“So a vibrator is pathetic but a makeup brush isn’t?” He steals a kiss from your lips and finally turns off the vibrator and throws it onto the couch between you two, you clear your throat and finally relax your legs still trying to catch your breath before you speak. “I’ll do it.”

Jackpot. Honestly he knew you’d agree at some point so he saw it coming, he thought it would take him more time but it happened a little sooner than he thought.

A satisfied grin lingers on his face and he finally gets up onto his feet. “Excellent, make sure you pack these in your luggage, we’ll need it.” He points his head towards the box that had the costume, you clear your throat and get up. “Can’t it happen without it?”

“Trust me, it’ll feel ten times better when you’re wearing it.” He sounds convincing as he pinches your cheek lightly. “I’ll see you in London.”

Let’s just hope you don’t regret this in the morning.

You spent your entire day packing because this trip was the longest, your stomach keeps constantly dropping and tickling you when you remember what you agreed on the night before, a part of you wanted to actually back away and call it off, but the largest portion of you was clearly careless since this is just a one time thing.

You grab onto the velvet ribbon and untie it to reveal what the box contains, even when the entire thing is catchy to the eye, but still the purple device is where your eyes lands first, you curiously grab onto it and twist and turn it in your hands, before pressing onto the little golden button and it turns on, you audibly gasp as if you did it by mistake, but clearly you didn’t.

Did he send every girl he slept with a vibrator or what? You scoff and turn it off before shoving it into your suitcase, along with the little piece of clothing before closing your bag and putting it near your door.

Getting to the airport has always been this chaotic, you honestly had no idea why’d they put up their schedule anyway but hey, to each their own.

Right when you get to the security and your suitcase goes in for inspection on the belt, your heart drops when the guards ask. “Ma’am, does this bag belong to you?”

A little dumbfounded and worried, but still you answer even when you’re about to choke onto your coffee. “Yeah, it’s mine.”

“Do you have something that’s battery operated in this bag?” The security guard asks as he’s taking the bag out from the belt, his hands barely touching the zipper.

And holy fuck you know what he’s talking about and fuck you Kim Taehyung for such stupid “Gift.”

Think Y/N, you better think fast.

Worst case scenario he opens the bag and it’s right there hidden between your clothes and you’re exposed in front of the entire staff that are right behind you waiting for their luggage to be inspected, what else could happen? Of course the security guards have seen these things before and you’re probably overthinking it, it’s just a toy for crying out loud, and of course he won’t just take it out and show it to everyone, or will he?

Fuck, okay you’re nothing thinking Y/N, because your suitcase is already unzipped and the guard is inspecting through it.

What else could be battery operated? How could you even convince him when he’s seconds away from embarrassing you in front of your coworkers and supervisors. Fuck it hurts more that another guard is standing right behind him and watching your bag being inspected. You watch their faces carefully waiting for them to show a reaction. God your walk through the gate will be a walk of shame.

“It’s an electric toothbrush.” Luckily he finds your toothbrush along with your water floss which makes the guard yell, “Next.” And close your bag.

Your face has already gone pale and you broke into cold sweat at just the thought of being exposed in public, your pounding heart in your chest feels like you climbed up 10 floors running and it takes a hot minute to calm down and you promise yourself that this can’t happen again.

You’re not even entirely sure that this is worth it to begin with.

Even when the long flight there was truly exhausting, with two stops and over 16 hours flying, it was more than enough for you to rest and maybe try and forget what happened earlier, you were insanely jet lagged and your body can’t buffer anymore, you can’t comprehend anything but the fact that you desperately need a bed to lay down on like right now.

And again you promise yourself that once you get to London you’re throwing away the stupid purple device in the nearest trash bin to avoid going through what happened earlier again.

Finally you get to the hotel room and you were lucky to have a king size bed all for you, you’re almost 9 hours behind your sleeping schedule so you quickly get into the shower and dive into the bed to catch onto some sleep.

Everyone was jet lagged and exhausted, the concert was still a couple days away so everyone had time to rest and time to take a walk around the city, you made sure to get enough sleep in order to go and explore London with your friends, and as you were having fish and chips on the streets your phone buzzes a couple texts.

5:53 | KTH

Done with the rehearsals, see u at 8 in my room and put the costume on J

It doesn’t take you seconds to reply with only thumbs up and sliding your phone back into your pocket, you need to head back earlier to your room to get ready, the man has slept with so many women that you feel the need to stand out in some way.

As for him? The usual routine before hooking up with someone nothing too special, a shower and a little clean up shave before wrapping the bath towel around his waist before he walks towards his carry on.

The sound of the zipper being opened is the only sound that’s heard in the room before he digs in to take out what he needs.

A couple Go-pros, handcuffs, blindfolds, his Nikon camera and a couple massage oils, and most importantly, his belt that he slides out of his jeans that he was wearing earlier. He takes one quick scan at the room trying to figure out where to hide the cameras.

The Go-pros can easily fit behind the table lamps on each side of the bed, and one near the TV, his Nikon camera hides pretty well in the closet that he leaves it’s door slid open enough for the lens to catch everything. He puts the blindfolds and handcuffs on the bed before putting his carry on back down onto the floor.

Taehyung doesn’t even bother to bring along condoms, he’s very hygienic and he knows you’re safe too, he did have to dig deep into your medical record that’s archived in the company to figure it out, but hey safety comes first. He never believed in condoms and he’s very careful when it comes to pulling out.

He takes one quick glance at the time on his phone and it’s already 8, so he takes one last spin around the room to click the record button on all the 5 cameras he set up.

He even sets up one last Go-pro near the headboard of the bed and finally hits the last record button, before scanning the room again to make sure that they’re all well hidden. And they really are, he’s been doing this for over a year now that he got so good at hiding them.

As for you, you were standing in front of the bathroom mirror admiring the way you look, your body is reacting upon your reflection and that douche was right. It already feels great to know that you look really sexy. In the back of your mind you were questioning yourself, are you really doing this?

You grab the bathrobe and put it on before leaving your room, you look around the corridor and the hallway is completely empty since everyone is either sleeping or having a night out. You had to take the elevator up in order to get to his room and you were on your tiptoes hoping that you don’t bump into someone when you’re wearing heavy makeup and a red lipstick, oh and in a bathrobe. You think it’s really obvious that you’re meeting up with someone and it probably is.

You make your way to his room and knock on the door, and there’s no answer. You look at the time and it’s a little past 8:30. You’re not that late and you’re pretty sure he’s in his room.

He is. He’s on the other side of the door watching you through the peephole and waiting for an entire minute to unlock his door, it was his sick way of teaching you a lesson to never be late, and when he says be there at 8, it means you have to be there by 8.

“Hey.” He opens the door and tilts his head inside. “Come on in, how are you?”

You’re fuming at the fact that you had to keep knocking on his door for a good amount of time and he knows you can’t be seen, specially that in the room next to him is probably one of the boys or one of their managers.

“What took you so long?” You get inside and rush to close the door behind you, the auto lock immediately activating and you hear it clicking shut. You don’t dare to look up from the floor when you clearly see him wearing only a towel around his waist, the idea itself was intimidating to you, you’re about to have sex with the man that millions of girls love and adore, and holy fuck he’s standing right there trying so hard to draw an image of what you look like underneath that little bathrobe.

“May I?” He stands behind you, his fingers fidgeting with the rope tied around your waist, and you clear your throat and nod a hesitant “Yes.”

He loosens it around your body and pulls it off of you ever so gently, you feel his breath hitting the nape of your neck and it sends shivers down your body that you shrug your shoulders up and shiver clearly making him laugh quietly. “You’re so cute.”

That wasn’t what you were hoping to hear when you’re all dolled up in the costume he bought, his eyes pierce down your shoulders and back, slowly taking his time to look down your ass, he cannot believe his eyes that it’s right there in front of him.

Now Taehyung doesn’t usually do this, he usually cuts to the chase and immediately gets to work but with you he took his time, he knows you’re new to this, your past experiences were considered quite trash to him, so he felt the need to butter up his bread and be gentle at first, before showing you his true colors.

“Did you get the rest of the stuff?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You hand him the stupid purple device that’s been giving you nightmares, he grabs it into his hands and walks inside to sit onto the bed, man spreading his legs apart enough for you to clearly see what’s under the towel. You take a couple steps towards the bed and he grabs onto your hands before pulling you towards him to sit onto his leg. “Come here let me kiss you.”

He cups your cheeks and pulls you in to kiss you once, the second time he licks your lips and bite onto your bottom lip and gently tugging it back before kissing you, his other hand running up your thigh and his fingers tracing the suspenders you were wearing softly.

Your hands stay onto your legs when you have no idea what to do, he pulls back and wraps one arm around your waist to pull you down onto the bed and getting on top of you. “Is this good?” He whispers, making sure that so far you’re okay and you are, and you barely whisper a ‘Yes’ before he continues, he spreads your legs apart to position comfortably between them, the big clear bulge in his towel now presses against your clothed core on purpose and holy fuck he’s rock hard.

He proceeds to kiss you on the lips again and you kiss back, hardly able to focus when he keeps poking and grinding against the stupid leather piece that you wish didn’t exist. “Mmm.” Your hand runs down his chest and the other wraps around his neck, your mouths merging together into wet kisses that are slowly turning into a sloppy make out session.

The pressure against your cunt also turns into grinding, and you’re pretty sure if he doesn’t stop you’d cum in seconds as this was really arousing to you. The pressure increases against your covered entrance which makes you hold your breath and pull back from the kiss, your head falling back against the bed.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck and kisses your ear, grazing his teeth against the shell as he whispers. “I’m going to fuck you senseless Y/N, you’ve never been fucked like this believe me.”

The man knows the piece you’re wearing like the back of his hand, he knows where exactly to unbutton it and pull it off of your body, this time he’s not teasing or going slow, he’s going all in and sliding it off of your body, leaving you wearing the stockings and the suspenders that are holding them up. A satisfied smug smirk sits on his face when his eyes burn through your entire body, wondering where to start? He cannot wait to put his mouth on you.

He carries you up using one hand and throws you to sit in the middle of the bed, you gasp when you feel something cold underneath your butt and you look there to find the pair of handcuffs that he had prepared. Your stomach drops when you see that not only he had the handcuffs prepared, there was a belt and a blindfold. You saw girls wearing something similar to it in the videos he showed you. “Taehyung no.”

“Baby I wasn’t asking.” The same smirk getting bigger, he does try a little hard to persuade you into it. “It will feel ten times better trust me.”

“I can’t put those on.” You argue back which makes him laugh. “Come on Y/N, we’ll have a safe word if you want me to stop, okay?”

“A safe word?” You scoff. “I’ll tell you to stop and that’s it.” And he takes that as a yes, he doesn’t waste a second as he grabs the blindfold and wraps it around your head, tightening it a little and asking. “All good?”

“Mhm.” You hum, your body tenses the moment your eyes get covered and you get anxious when you don’t know what he’s doing or the mere idea of when or where he’s going to touch you next. “I’m right here.” He grazes the side of your shoulder with what feels like the back of his hand as if he knew that you’re worried. “Give me your hands.”

It takes you seconds to put both your palms up towards him, he puts the handcuffs around your wrists and tightens them enough for you to not be able to rotate them enough. “Fuck.” You mumble when you realize you can’t see nor touch anything around you, and honestly you would easily panic but you had no idea what went through you, you were never into kinky stuff but apparently you’re willing to do it now.

“Fuck!” You gasp again when you’re suddenly pulled so your back fully lands on the bed, your breath hitches and your chest rises faster when you feel your legs being spread open. Holy fuck you can’t see anything, you can feel his hands on the back of your thighs and you can feel his hot breaths getting closer to your inner thighs too, but you can’t see his face and you probably won’t be able to see him savoring you.

You feel the wetness and the warmth of his mouth when he licks a long trail from your entrance to your clit, then moving lower to the inner of your thigh, kissing and sucking on your skin until the color changes into a dark shade of red. “Shit.” You start fighting the handcuffs and you can hear them clicking and behind that is the sound of him chuckling. “You’re doing good baby girl.”

He proceeds to wrap his mouth around your throbbing clit and flicks his tongue against it, moving his head to add more friction as he runs his hand on the back of your thigh. You taste so good on his mouth, he doesn’t waste a drop leaking out of your cunt and he licks you clean.

Your clenched jaw finally drops when he slides two fingers inside you and curling them against your spot, your legs automatically close and he forcefully spreads them back open and starts thrusting his fingers while using his thumb to rub your clit in circular motion as he kisses your inner thighs.

His eyes spot the Go-pro that’s been sitting on the nightstand and he reaches over to grab it and film your clit being fucked with his fingers up close. “Mmm, fuck.” The sounds you make are the cherry on the top to the clip he’s filming, he comes in closer to suck onto your clit and turns the camera to show it clearly.

As for you, you now know why he uses the handcuffs and the blindfolds. The element of surprise was really arousing, it felt insanely good to not know where you’re about to be touch, you had no idea what’s coming up next when your eyes were covered, and your restricted hands basically stopped you from either touching him or touching yourself, he wants to make you feel good on his own and he didn’t need help.

Even the second you started grinding your hips against his face he used his full strength to stop you and dive into your cunt deeper than before, which made your chest heave faster, you’re so near you feel your stomach getting tighter and your pussy keeps clenching around his fingers. “I need to cum. Taehyung please, don’t stop.”

“Mmm.” He savors every seconds he gets to taste you and his eyes even shut close at how fucking tasty you are, he pulls back to spit onto your clit and dive back in, you were a drenching wet mess in seconds when you cum, your head falls back against the pillow and your sharp breaths are now louder, your legs fight the urge to shut close so they start shaking. “Holy fuck.” Even when your hands are cuffed together, you were still able to reach his hair and tug onto it tight enough to make him go insane.

It’s all caught on camera and you had no idea, Taehyung was more than satisfied on what he got so far because you look like a fucking porn star and you sound like one. He hides the camera back behind the table lamp on the night stand and climbs up to kiss you on the lips.

You wrap your legs around him and you can feel that the towel is still on him, and you’re cheeky enough to fidget the top of the towel with your fingers and slide it off which makes you earn a spank onto your ass that resonates through the walls of the hotel room. “Look at my little whore being all greedy for my cock, you wanna taste that cock that’s going to fuck you until you pass out? Hmm?” You can only hear him and he’s already breathless.

And on regular basis you would’ve fucked up his face if he called you a whore, but in bed everything is allowed, including what you hear ringing right near your ear, is it the belt you saw earlier?

“Fuck.” Your entire body is turned so you land on your face, your arms uncomfortably sit underneath you and in seconds he realizes the problem and fixes it, lifting your arms up to sit above your head. You can feel the mattress sinking when he gets out of the bed and gets onto his feet but again, you being blindfolded meant you cannot expect what’s about to happen.

Him on the other hand grabs the same Go-pro again and gets closer to your ass, spanking it with his large hand and digging his fingers into it to jiggle it. His obsession with the female body had him go insane. He moves down to your feet and films them as he’s running his hands onto them and up your calves, slowly moving up to the back of your thighs and gets closer with the camera to film your swollen pussy and perked hole from behind.

He delivers another spank to your other ass cheek this time and moves up to your back, tracing his finger up your spine to the back of your neck, moving to your hair to collect it all into his hand and lift your face up from the pillow. “Look at that beautiful face, this is where I’m gonna cum.” And he spits onto your lips before stealing a quick kiss. “I’m gonna cum inside this big mouth of yours.”

You hear the belt again which makes your stomach clench, you’re high key scared and fucking ruined at the same time, do you really want him to spank you?

“Ha! Fuck!” You yell, squeezing the pillows into your fists when he spanks you with the belt onto your ass, it’s mixed feelings really, both painful and extremely arousing. “Again, please, do it again.” And now you’re begging him to do it again?

He delivers another spank right away onto the same spot and you cannot see it, but it’s already marked onto your ass and it’s dark red. “Please Taehyung, again.” And he goes right in, this time onto your other ass cheek and it feels so fucking good, you’re startled when he helps you get onto your knees to put your ass up with your face still down onto the pillow, and this time he spanks again, hitting your cunt with the belt and making you arch your back and moan his name off of the top of your lungs.

He finally puts the Go-pro down onto the night stand and positions himself behind you, totally proud of the marks he left onto your skin. He spits onto his palm and strokes his cock before pointing the head to your entrance, slowly teasing you by trying to push it in but you were clenching repeatedly. “Relax for me, will you?”

You try and obey but you can’t, especially when he keeps rubbing against you and touching you all over your body, it’s already making you seconds away from reaching another orgasm and your stamina wasn’t that good to begin with. He tries to push into you again but you’re way too tight when you’re all clenched. He grabs you by your hair to pull you up forcefully. “Do you wanna be fucked or not?”

“Yes please.” You cry out, he pushes you back into the pillow and this time pushes inside you even when there’s resistance to begin with making you gasp and arch your back right away. Your cunt swallows him inside and you feel him stretching you with every single curve of his cock, he’s fucking you raw and you were completely okay with it because it felt insanely good.

Fuck, your body is acting up on the stretch of his head inside you, your stomach feels tight and with minimal amount of grinding against him, you cum again and relax around him. “Holy fuck did you just cum?”

He doesn’t get an answer, but you being fucked up on the bed and fighting to catch a breath is quite the answer he needed. He takes one look to your cunt and pulls back a little, you’ve already creamed on the head of his cock and drenched him. “Fuck.” He pulls his cock entirely out and slides in one finger to taste your cum, he’s cursing under his breath because this has never happened with him.

“Fucking god please.” You cry out again when he pushes back inside you, this time pushing further more of his cock , the stretch is nothing like you’ve felt before and you’re not even sure you can take him full. You’re over stimulated and you haven’t even calmed down from your previous high and he’s not planning to give you any breaks soon.

“Fuck, look at that little pussy wrapped around my cock, it feels so good to fuck you Y/N.” He grits onto his own teeth, he pulls back and pushes back in making you arch your back again, he takes up his pace and in seconds you feel yourself chasing another orgasm, and the only way you can announce that you’re about to cum is using your mouth and you’re already choking up on words, so you slam your fists against the pillow repeatedly, which makes him move inside you even faster and fuck you’re cumming again.

It feels so good but holy shit it burns, you cry out his name with your tears that are absorbed by the stupid blindfold you have on, you sob out his name repeatedly and he can feel it, especially with your cunt constantly tightening around him and driving him crazy.

Your body no longer functions and your limbs start shaking, your lower body collapses onto the bed and his cock slides out of you, your legs shut tight to ease down your sore pussy and you’re still crying. “Give me a minute.”

“Shh, you’re okay.” He gets up onto his feet and pours you a cup of water, he sits near your head and helps you sit up to take the blindfold off. You squint your eyes at the sudden exposure of the lights and lift your hand up to try and grab the cup of water but your limbs are shaking nonstop. “You’re okay, it’s okay.” He helps you take a couple sips of water before putting the cup down. “Better?”

You barely nod your head, he inches closer to kiss you on the lips and neck, moving down to your chest and kneading it into his hand. “Lay down.” And you lay your back down on the bed, he adjusts you to dangle your head on the edge of the bed and gets up onto his feet, his enormous cock sitting in his hand while he’s stroking it.

He takes a step closer to your face and brushes the head of his cock against the side of your face and lips before pointing the tip to your mouth and with no words needed you open your mouth and it hurts your jaw when you try and take him into your mouth, the size on this man is incredible and you haven’t seen anyone this big before. “Good girl, let me fuck that beautiful face of yours.” And with no hesitation he thrusts his hips against your face forcing more of his cock inside your mouth.

Your gag reflex was something you weren’t so proud of, just as the tip of his dick reaches the back of your tongue you audibly gag right away and pull your head back. “It’s okay, you can do it.”

He forces his cock inside your mouth again this time the head hitting a spot deeper inside your mouth making you gag again and panic to catch a breath. “Taehyung—“

“It’s alright, don’t move.” He grabs onto your hair and pounds right into your mouth, the head now hitting your tonsils and down your throat, you start kicking your legs onto the bed and trying hard to pull back, but he’s got a good grip of your hair and he doesn’t stop and can’t stop. It feels so good to fuck your mouth and watching you struggle to breathe is arousing him even more. “That’s it, you’re such a good girl.” He breathlessly pants and pushes in one last time and holds inside, your face is already turning red and your tears are streaming down your face. You keep coughing against his cock but he doesn’t pull out, he delivers a slap to your cheek and pulls back. Your lungs inflate with oxygen again as you’re gasping for a breath and coughing.

“Your mouth feels so fucking good.” He leans forward to kiss you on the lips before climbing back onto the bed and turning you on your hands and knees again, positioning himself behind you and rubbing the head of his swollen angry cock against your clit and entrance. “I wonder what it feels like inside your ass.”

Your body stiffens again when you know you’re still not ready, your swollen cunt was still sore and hurting, your hands are still cuffed to each other so you won’t be able to support your upper half if you cover up yourself, “Taehyung wait—“ You panic when you feel the head of his cock pointing towards your hole, rubbing against it and wetting it with his own spit, he doesn’t give you time to object as he already tries to push in inside you, the tightness is killing him and his eyes roll to the back of his head when your hole tightens around his shaft.

As for you, you could swear you feel him in your back, it fucking hurts so good. Your back arches and you don’t realize it yet, but you’ve been holding your breath the entire time. “Holy fucking shit Y/N where have you been.” He whimpers, reaching for the massage oil to squirt some onto your ass, he gets really impatient and unscrews the lid before dumping the entire bottle on your whole body and throwing the bottle away across the room. “Don’t move.” Your voice so low, tears are accumulating in your eyes again at the insanely good burn, and with every grunt you let out, your hole keeps clenching around him in a stroke like motion which makes him grab the belt and wrap it around your neck to pull you in closer.

“Fuck-“ You gasp when he wraps the belt tighter around your neck, the closeness already pushing more of his cock inside you making you scream his name and throw your head back against him. He seizes the chance and bites the shell of your ear while whispering. “I’m going to fucking ruin you Y/N, no one will make you cum the way I can.”

You’re totally fucked you can’t form a sentence, only whimpers and grunts escaping your lips along with sharp breaths, your hard nipples grab his attention and he doesn’t think again before delivering a slap to your tits making you sob out his name, you’re fighting against the cuffs again when you feel them getting on your nerves, you have to use your hands, you need to pull onto something or touch him, your nails are already digging into the inside of your palm hard enough that you’re bleeding making it burn when it mixes with sweat.

You completely lose it when the purple device enters your vagina still turned off, you look at him over your shoulders in utter disbelief, you’re already over stimulated enough without the stupid vibrator. “Taehyung please—“ At this point you’re begging for him to stop, but he doesn’t. He presses onto the stupid golden button twice, knowing exactly what pattern to choose to drive you both insane, “Please, please..” Your eyes meets his, he’s more than satisfied when he looks at your face, all glowing and flushed red, tears are already messing your makeup and your lipstick is smudged. “Cum for me.”

It’s physically impossible for you to cum right now, but he insists on making you cum for the fourth or fifth time tonight, so he pushes the rest of his cock into your ass and starts jerking his hips up against yours, the sounds of your skin meeting fills the room, his thighs and hips meeting your ass cheeks and slapping them with each thrust, and before you know it you feel your orgasm approaching which makes you roll your eyes to the back of your head. “Don’t stop.” You want to reach your end now and you find yourself grinding your hips against his, he pushes you down to land back on your cuffed hands. “Fuck yourself, come on.” He delivers a spank to your ass, finally halting his thrusts, and it takes you a moment to gather some strength and start pounding against him.

Holy fuck this is like a dream coming true to him, he even laughs and keeps spanking onto your ass. “That’s it, keep going.” He throws his head back and clicks again to change the pattern on the vibrator, this pattern is strong enough even when it’s inside your pussy, he could feel it through your walls and it sends vibrations through to his dick. “Keep going.” He grabs the belt and spanks your ass again making you jump in your place and tug onto the bed sheets, crying even louder when you feel yourself seconds away from letting go, the overwhelming pleasure controls your body and you can no longer move against him, you collapse on the bed and fight against the cuffs again.

He loses his patience and holds your hips into his hand to stay inside you as he leaves the bed to get into his feet, he uses both his hands to spread your ass cheeks apart before pounding into it again, this time furiously and not stopping whatsoever, your walls clench around the vibrator once more and you push onto your own core when you finally release your orgasm, your squirt gushing against his cock and thighs making him call out your name. “There you go, good fucking girl.” He rubs your clit and keeps fucking you through your orgasm. “Fucking god, please Taehyung, please..” You gasp for a breath and your walls clenching pushes the vibrator out of you, finally.

He couldn’t fight the impulsive thought of pulling out of you and going down on you, licking every single drop that fell out of your cunt down your thighs, savoring every drop that sits onto his tongue and swallowing it, before sitting back up and pushing back into your ass making you whimper when you feel yourself stuffed to the brim. And he pounds right back into you until you feel his breath quickening and his grip tightening on both your ass cheeks. “Come here.” He pulls out and grabs you by your wrist to get down on your knees to the floor, he grabs the keys from the nightstand and finally takes the cuffs off of your wrists. “Hold your tits out for me and open your mouth.” And your fucked up and fogged brain can’t process anything he said until he man handles you and forcefully makes you obey what he said, sticking his fingers down your throat while he gives his cock the last couple strokes.

You throw your head back and fight the urge to close your eyes when you’re gagging just to look at him and watch him cum right before your eyes, he shoots the first white ribbon onto your face and his balls keep clenching while he’s shooting out the rest of his cum, some end up falling on your chest and the rest goes down your mouth and throat.

And it tastes fucking horrendous.

He looks down at you with his hair all frizzy and all over his face, with sweat dripping down his forehead and even the tip of nose, down to his neck and chest. “Swallow.”

And with his cum still in your mouth you shake your head, you need to spit it out quickly because you can’t handle the taste. People must be lying when they mentioned that it tasted good but that’s total bullshit. “I said swallow.”

You’re about to reject again but he forces your mouth shut and covers it with his hand. “Swallow Y/N.”

And you were forced to swallow even when you’re clearly gagging in front of him. “Good girl.” He grabs his towel from earlier and pats his face dry. “You can go back to your place.” And just like that he enters the bathroom and you hear his shower water running leaving you on his bedroom floor.

You crawl around the room looking for your bathrobe and struggle to put it on, before gathering enough strength to get up onto your feet and leave the room, luckily it’s still late so you won’t be seen around the hotel, and just when the elevator door closes you could swear you heard Hoseok shout. “Hold it.” From a distance, but of course you wouldn’t let him see you like this.

You click the key card to your hotel room and close the door shut behind you, rushing to the toilet and throwing up what you swallowed earlier. You were pretty sure it wasn’t staying in there.

You had to get room services twice so they can keep you nourished with soup and warm liquids, and 3 tabs of painkillers and couple hot showers away, you were able to go to work today but you had to walk slowly and get up slowly.

“Good morning.” Taehyung and Jungkook walk into the room with wide smiles on their face, Taehyung putting his phone back into his pocket before throwing his top off and taking his seat onto your station.

“Good morning.” The girls on the station next to you answer them both and you just get to work, nothing personal really, but your tonsils were killing you from what happened the night before.

“Good morning.” Taehyung repeats, looking at your reflection in the mirror and curving his lips up into a little smile, you mirror his smile and nod your head. “Morning.”

“She’s not feeling well today.” Your friend Leah elaborates while she’s working on Jungkook’s face. “Oh no what happened?” Jungkook snaps his head towards you, Taehyung of course knows why so he doesn’t ask.

“The weather got her and she’s having a sore throat.” She adjusts Jungkook’s face and proceeds to work, “I’m alright, she’s just exaggerating.” You force a smile and start dabbing some primer onto Taehyung’s face, while you’re too focused on your job he clears his throat and whispers. “You alright?”

“Mhm.” A simple answer that was more than enough. “If you need anything I’ll be glad to help.” He glances at your face, at this point he’s just feigning this caring personality just to get you to do it again with him when you two are back home. He regrets his promise that this is going to be only one time.

“And by the way, you forgot your uhm.. device, in my room last night.”

“Goodness, please keep it.” You argue right away before laughing. “I don’t think I need it anymore, and I don’t think carrying it around in my suitcase back to Seoul is a brilliant idea.”

He chuckles and leans his head back, “What do you think about last night?” And you nudge him when you feel Jungkook’s eyes on you, he absolutely heard him and now the two of them are waiting for your answer.

“The flight? It was exhausting.” You laugh awkwardly, clearing your throat and turning away to grab the rest of the makeup brushes.

But what you don’t see, is Taehyung smirking at Jungkook and winking him, making the younger nod and give him a thumbs up while mouthing him. “Good choice.”

Last night right after he was done with his shower, he looked around the room knowing it’s empty since he heard the door locking when he went in earlier. He takes a spin around the room to turn off all the Go-pros and collect them along with his Nikon camera, he calls room service and they’re up in seconds to clean around the room like it was never touched, of course making sure to hide suspicious things before any of the staff enters.

He takes a seat around the little coffee table near the window and turns on his iPad to download the videos of the several different angles he filmed. And of course this isn’t his first time doing it, a quick touch to the movie maker with his apple pencil before he edits the clips, cuts some and mixes some, to produce your own sex tape.

He clicks his tongue at his own dick that’s sitting in his boxers when it low key twitches at the sight of the movie, he can easily cum again if he wanted to, but now is not the time. The tape is around 38 minutes even after cutting some clips, and holy fuck he could watch it again and again.

And on their way to the stadium this morning, him and Jungkook started sharing their experience the night before, Jungkook mentioned something about sleeping with two locals from London, and Taehyung of course had to share his own experience and explicitly mentions you.

“So did you get it on tape?” Jungkook asks and Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Of course I did, I have it on my phone you wanna check it out?”

“I don’t mind.” It was 10 in the morning but the younger didn’t mind watching a sex tape in a car that had staff in it, Taehyung unlocks his phone and dims the brightness before handing it to Jungkook along with one of the airpods.

Jungkook hasn’t seen anything as animalistic as this, of course he did see other tapes before that are made by Taehyung too, but you weren’t like any of them. The sounds you made, your body, your crying and your whimpers. “She can squirt?” Jungkook’s doe eyes pierce through the phone.

“Hey, I made her squirt.” Taehyung of course takes credit for that. He lost count of the women he slept with, but none of them squirted, none of them gave Taehyung a boost of ego like you did. “How many times did she cum?”

“I don’t know, probably four, five? I lost count.” Taehyung carelessly shrugs. “It was insane.”

“That’s incredible.” Jungkook skips the video for his own sake, totally not the time to have an erection and it’s still too early in the morning. “Do you think I can get her to do anything with me?”

“She gets weird about me telling anyone about it, but I don’t know you can try.” Taehyung grabs his phone from Jungkook and locks it.

And as they both got into the stadium and Jungkook sets his eyes on you, he looks at you differently now, wishing he would spend a night with you and secretly thinking about offering you money to do it.

“Good choice.” He mouths Taehyung and throws his head back to finish his makeup.

The moment Jungkook looks at you, Taehyung asks you again. “But no really, what do you think about last night?”

You take one last glance at Jungkook who’s attention is finally averted off of you before you answer. “Not bad.” Taehyung knows you’re teasing, so he laughs and nods. “I’m glad you think so. But you clearly have a limb from all the pounding, and your throat is clearly swollen from all the face fucking.”

“Shh.” You hit his shoulder. “Someone could actually hear us.”

“Alright. But hey, you have to have your device back, I’ll carry it in my luggage if you want to and I’ll hand it back to you when we’re home.” And you totally don’t mind, as long as you avoid any possible chances of embarrassment in public.

#bts x fem!reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #kim taehyung #kim taehyung x y/n #kim taehyung x you #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung x oc #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #taehyung #bangtan #bts

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yorshie · 8 months ago

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Tattoo Worship

Bayverse turtles x reader NSFW head canons concerning the tattoos I added to them.

Set in 2023 for turtles are 24-25

Leo

Sometimes when it’s just the two of you existing, little moments in between commitments and obligations, you will idly throw out poetry about Leo’s ink. Not anything big, not even anything considered good by most standards, but when you compare the flow of water and dancing petals laid out over his scales to the constant ebb and flow of your love for him, he’ll never fail to get this bashful, boyish smile on his face. The turtle with the biggest way with words will fall silent and pliant in your tiny hands.

The true beauty of his tattoo however, comes out during training. The fluid lines accentuate how his body moves, how each group of muscles work in tandem. He’d be a lying little shit if he said it didn’t give him an ego boost to catch you watching him while he’s working on his katas, eyes glued to the flexing lines before following their flow to his arm or further down his leg.

When it’s just the two of you he’ll let you touch it, let you skate your fingertips along the different colors. He might get a bit ticklish around the flower over the finer scales where his plastron meets his inner hip, but he’ll allow a few ticklish touches in order to feel the bliss of your touch on him. If you want to explore the larger flowers underneath his pant line however, he might get a little handsy in return.

Blue likes it when you use your tongue to trace his tattoo. The swirling lines of water in between flowers acts like a maze or a raceway, except the last thing he wants you to do is race to the finish line. If you want to start over he’s not likely to offer any sort of resistance unless you’re purposefully teasing him.

When your hands grab at his hips and ass he likes to imagine the pretty picture of your nails digging into the flowers along his left side, holding him closer. It reminds him to be careful, to not accidentally pinch your fingers underneath the ridge of his shell. He’d rather you grab his ass than his carapace but he knows it’s better leverage for you both to clutch onto the latter

He doesn’t really care if you want to call his tattoo pretty, so long as you look like you mean it. After years of different villains and Jones referring to him as the ‘pretty boy turtle’ he’s learned not to roll his eyes too much. When you gesture at, or press a hand to his hip, and tell him that you think his tattoo is pretty you’ll get either a crooked little grin if the two of you are going steady or a tilted head and a considering look if he’s not too sure you’re being genuine.

Donnie

You don’t often get to see Donnie’s tattoos. In fact, when you first meet him, he wouldn’t be surprised at all if you thought the tribal turtle on his shoulder was the only one he had. It’s not until you’re dating that you’ll see this dorkasauros rex in a relaxed enough environment to notice the blocky lines of his tattoo peeking out from a low rise pair of lounge pants. It’s not that he’s self conscious about them, he’s just usually is wearing his cargo pants or an added apron when he’s out in the garage and his tattoos are low enough on his hips and thighs to not be noticed.

However, the first time your fingers press into the lines his mind might short circuit just a little bit. For some reason Donnie’s nerves are just a little more sensitive, or maybe it’s just he’s a little bit of a baby when it comes to needles, but his tattoo hurt for a while after he finally got Raph to agree to help him ink himself. Now, though, the feeling of your fingertips, your palm, feels good in a way his mind can’t quite comprehend although he tries to. He’ll clutch your hands and hold them still against his hips, mind trying to catalog the sensation while he’s grinning like an idiot. It might take several tries of calling his name and drumming your trapped fingers before he lets you go.

Donnie likes it when you touch his tattoo, in any way he can get, though hard scratches make him wince. Soft touches and tracing the lines and the frill of the flowers on his quads will get you quivering muscles and shaky words if he’s trying to explain something to you while you’re doing it. Absolutely will go wild if you press kisses to his flowers.

Loves to look down while he’s entangled with you to see the harsher colors of his scales and ink peeking through the spaces where your limbs twine with his. If you’re between his legs and you grab onto his tattoo he might just squeak and pull his head and hunch his shoulders into his shell, but only because he’s blushing and he doesn’t want this to end too soon

If you call him or his tattoo pretty this tall turtle will blush and probably fumble whatever is in his hands. Especially if it’s your first time seeing his full tattoo, he might just trip and fall over while trying to untangle his feet. If you keep telling him though, he will eventually believe you, he just won’t understand how you think that’s possible.

Raph

Big Red’s tattoos are hard to miss, even if he’s dressed for patrol. His full sleeves spill out onto his traps and over his collar bones, coiling around his plastron like they’d continue if his scales existed underneath the hard keratin. He’s intimidating, and he knows the tattoos only add to it. He’s not afraid of using it to his advantage and has had more than one person admire them over the years of working with the police force.

It might take you a few hours to map out the expanse of his tattoos with kisses or even with your hands, there’s a lot of intricate details and hidden meanings in the symbols he chose, but if you ask nicely enough he’ll tell you what each one means, especially if he’s sweet on you and you’re stroking softly over the lines along his muscles. When you find the spots that have scars over the lines, he’ll switch to giving you vague answers on how he got them, not wanting to worry you over something that you can’t change. His tattoos are a sense of pride for him, a part of his story, a sign that he’s able to weather pain and tolerate hours underneath a needle.

If you catch him when he’s just done from a work out though, tired and achy but still high off the hit of adrenaline, his muscles will twitch underneath your touch, lines dancing as his nerves react to the stimuli. It’s these moments where running a tongue across his biceps will get a hiss and a look of heat, a quick warning of ‘you better be sure, baby’ before he takes you up on your silent offer and kisses you dizzy.

Raph loves it when you sink your nails into his arms, likes it when you miss his carapace and claw over his shoulders. He knows your little human hands can’t hurt his ink, and even if you did manage to leave a mark he’d wear it with pride, the little filthy gremlin that he is. Expect lots of churring if you scratch over his arms and maybe even a rumbled insistences of “harder, baby, that spot itches bad”

He likes to watch you in secret when you start ogling him. He might give himself away though by smirking when he sees your eyes widen as you map out the width of him or if your gaze trails along his tattoos. If you’re going steady he’s eventually going to call you out for it, go looking for some sugar to make up for ‘undressin’ me with your eyes’ as he usually puts it

If you call his tattoos pretty he might take offense if the two of you haven’t known each other long. If you’re together however, you’ll get either a) a bashful turtle rubbing the back of his neck and blushing or b) mr. bedroom eyes determined to show you how his tattoos are actually not ‘pretty’ thank you very much they are ‘sexy’ and he’s willing to spend any amount of time needed to convince you of the matter. You will never be able to tell which one you’ll get until you give the compliment.

Mikey

Mikey keeps his sleeve covered during patrols but that’s mostly because it’s so bright and colorful even he admits it could potentially give away their position. At home in the lair though, he usually takes his compression sleeves off, so it’s not unusual to see his tattoo early into meeting him. If you ask him about it however, he’ll simply point at a marigold and tell you he likes flowers, smiling and acting like he doesn’t understand that you mean the snarling dragon flashing through the orange flowers. He’s not above showing off and popping his biceps just to watch your face when the flowers double in size however.

If he’s sweet on you though, and you take the time to really get to know him, he’ll let you trace the petals and the scales across his arm, and maybe he’ll tell you why he was the first of his brothers’ to dabble in colorful ink and symbolism. He likes it when you touch him softly, when you hang onto him or press your cheek against the curve of his shoulder. If you press a kiss to the dragon’s snout he might tap his own lips and ask where his kiss is.

Mikey likes seeing his limbs tangled up with yours, likes seeing the contrast of your skin against his, whether it’s his green scales or his colorful tattoo. If you grab at his shoulders or biceps to hold steady it will drive him wild, but he’ll also give you a shit eating grin because he knows you can’t keep your hands off him but also ‘really, sunshine, if you want a piece of the Mikester all you gotta do is ask, baby, there’s no need to be shy-‘ cue whatever brother is nearest him to try slapping him upside the head

The one time he will let you explore to your heart’s content however, is in bed or the shower. This turtle is the one with the most, shall we say, frivolous bedtime routine, and if he can convince you to scrub his scales or rub lotion onto his arms he’s all game. He’s not picky on floral smells, so if you want to try out some girlie products on him he’s game. When he’s loose and liquid from the lovin and pampering, that’s your chance to take your time and learn all the little muscles along Mikey’s tat and discover just how ticklish he is when you touch the shaded dots that curl up underneath his arm.

If you call Angelo’s tattoo pretty, and take the time to make sure he knows you mean it, get ready to be swept up in a full bodied hug and maybe even swung in a circle. He’ll ask if you’ve ever considered getting one of your own, hey maybe the two of you can match, maybe you’ll even let him design it for you-

#my writing snippets #TMNT bayverse #TMNT #TMNT bayverse head canons #bayverse leonardo #bayverse leo #bayverse donatello #bayverse donnie #bayverse raphael #bayverse raph #bayverse michelangelo #bayverse mikey #bayverse leo x reader #bayverse donnie x reader #bayverse mikey x reader #bayverse raph x reader

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gunsandspaceships · 7 months ago

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Many degrees of Doctor Stark

It is widely known that 616 Tony has several doctorates. The number varies from 3 to 7, but it doesn't really matter whether he is 300 or 700% Doctor. He is one. And he doesn’t use his title 99.999% of the time.

Ok, but what about the MCU?

It is never mentioned whether Tony has a PhD or even a master's degree. Kinda weird. Both the absence of mentions and lack of degrees, since Tony is so smart and productive.

Let’s check, maybe he actually has some.

Here we have a file from a deleted scene from The Avengers (2012):

As we can see, the work is sloppy – there are inaccuracies in his hair color (it’s not black, it’s brown), and the fact that he speaks French was not included. Can we rely on this paper? Let’s not 100%, but we can still use things that don't contradict the movies.

The fact that he received his BS in Engineering from MIT does not contradict this, so we can mark it as valid. He started in 1984 when he was 14 years old and graduated in 1987 when he was 17.

We see no further education in the file. But we know something that this file doesn’t. We watched the movies.

Remember, in Civil War at 0:13:25, in the scene where Tony sees his parents for the last time, Maria tells Howard, “Be nice, dear, he’s been studying abroad”. Tony is 21 here, this is December 16, 1991. Looks like he is on winter break.

But wait… Didn’t he graduate in 1987 and stop then? Well, Maria tells us he continued.

Between 17 and 21 there are 4 years. What could he have done in these 4 years? A lot, right? He is smart and productive, we know that. A master’s degree usually takes 2 years. Tony could earn it in 1. 1 or 2, we still have 2-3 years that we need to fill with some kind of studying. I doubt he just went back and got another bachelor's or master's. That said, he was working on his PhD.

We don't know where. “Abroad” is a very broad concept. Maybe he went to Europe to study at Oxford? We do not know. Perhaps he stayed at MIT and just went somewhere else for the fall semester. We do not know. But he did go somewhere for (most probably) a PhD.

The question is: did he finish it?

Well, his parents died in Dec 1991, and we know from the first Iron Man (0:04:50) that Stane was the interim president of Stark Industries from that date until 1992. Most likely, Tony became CEO before his birthday, that is, May 29, which corresponds to the stated age of 21. He had a few months between.

We don’t know where he was in his degree at that time. But we know he is smart and productive. He doesn’t need 4 years to write a dissertation.

So, there are 2 options:

1) He did not complete his doctorate and devoted himself entirely to the company;

2) He completed it in the few months he had and then took over the company.

Here’s the evidence for the second option:

“Confusing matters more, a recently deleted LinkedIn profile for Tony Stark indicated he received doctorates in engineering physics and artificial intelligence.”

Source: https://alum.mit.edu/slice/who-iron-man

Given all the information and analysis we have, as well as a little logic, we can conclude that Tony has a Ph.D. Even two. He had time to do them. Why doesn't he use his title? Well, maybe for the same reason 616 Tony doesn’t? He doesn’t usually brag. Check out this post if you have any doubts about my statement.

Here are some additional hints:

He gave lectures at scientific conferences (IM1 and IM3 - Bern 1999).

His scientific expertise was not limited to engineering and his company's affairs (all the movies, but specifically I can point you to IM3– the scene with Maya Hansen and her Extremis-enhanced plants in Bern).

“He must have graduated after 1990, because the '90 Brass rat was the first one with the skyline on the edge.” MIT alumni commentary https://alum.mit.edu/slice/who-iron-man

Conclusion (actual): call him Doctor Stark, guys, he deserves it. Despite his modesty about his scientific achievements, Dr Stark has a couple of master's degrees and at least two PhD degrees in the MCU - in engineering physics and artificial intelligence.

#tony stark #iron man #marvel #mcu #the avengers #iron man 3 #captain america civil war #doctor stark

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xfgpng · 2 years ago

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𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬

— : [nsfw ] pet names, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, overstimulation, love confessions

— : wc : 846

a/n : there is a 17 year age difference between reader and eren in this. however, they are both consenting adults.

eren doesn’t do feelings and romance. he’s been married before and that failed so he isn’t interested in dating. he likes sex, who the hell doesn’t? and at the age of 42, he’s very experienced and he likes to get his dick wet.

he had zero intentions of being in any type of serious relationship but he was bored of fucking different women every other night. he only signed up on this website out of curiosity. his older brother had met his current girlfriend on there and he knows jean has a profile too. he’s seen it despite the fucker being in denial about it. eren doesn’t get what’s the big deal about, it’s no different than any of dating app.

don’t they make you pay for premium?

he didn’t find it interesting, at least until he came across your page. you were a pretty little thing, 25 and career orientated. you expressed your desire to have a good time, no strings attached type of relationship. while you were working and had a good job, it wasn’t enough to sustain the lifestyle you really wanted and he admired your honesty.

he did love a women who wasn’t afraid to say what she wanted and god you were so fucking hot, he felt his dick twitch as he scrolled through your pictures. you were so pretty, painfully so and normally eren didn’t care for these things because he could have anyone he wanted but he had to have you. all of you.

it had been exactly 5 months since that day and now he had you all to himself, laid out so prettily on his expensive sheets as he kissed you all over your face. this is the longest eren has ever been with anyone romantically and he knows he doesn’t want to go back to casually fucking other people when you were all he needed.

“can’t” you whine, legs shaking from your first two orgasms but eren was rock hard, cock nestled deep inside your sensitive pussy and the older man showed no signs of being done with you just yet.

“yes you can baby” he grins, “you’re a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

“i am” you nod, gripping his biceps as he slowly thrusts into you. his lower half is wet and sticky and he knows he’ll be making a mess of you again so he wasn’t too concerned about cleaning up right now.

“god, look at you” he groans, reaching down between your legs to rub your sore and puffy clit, picking up his pace as he fucked you into the bed.

“fuck” you cry out, fingers digging into his arms hard enough to leave marks and he loved when you marked him up.

your orgasm takes you by surprise despite having cum twice before this and your legs wrap tightly around him, back arching off the bed as you cum.

it won’t stop and when he looks down, you’re squirting again, all over him and yourself and it’s the sexiest fucking thing he’s ever seen.

he has to hold your body down to help you relax and he would take pity on you but you could handle it, you had your safe word and he would never push you further than you could handle.

“holy shit baby, fuck” his hips come to a stop, his own hot cum filling you up so much that it leaks out the sides of his cock and down into the sheets underneath you.

he knows that if you weren’t on the pill, you’d definitely be pregnant by now with the amount of times he cums inside you. he’s never fucked anyone raw, never really cared to because sex was just sex and nothing more but it felt so good with you.

“i love you” he says, kissing your cheeks and your forehead and your eyes widen.

he freezes above you, realising what he just said. eren does his best to remain nonchalant. it was fine, he just confessed to you, the first woman he can honestly say he can see a future with and he knows it’s more than the sex, more than the fun dates. it’s everything about you and how you make him feel.

these feelings still very new but he wasn’t ashamed, only slightly embarrassed that he was the first to say it.

“i.. love you too” you whisper shyly, coming down from your high. you’re still catching your breath and it’s funny how after the intense sex you’ve just had, this is what makes you shy.

he looks down at you with wide eyes but he calms down when you reach up to pull him into a kiss, wrapping your arms around him.

“yeah?” he asks softly, kissing your again and you nod

“yeah” you say just as softly but it turns into a moan when you feel his cock twitch and throb inside you. you didn’t understand how the fuck he could have so much stamina but you were more surprised at the fact that you could keep up with him.

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everydayfrimmel · 4 months ago

Text

July 25, 2025

"Inconceivable" 1000 words, fluff/established relationship

She hadn’t thought it was possible. Or, at least, it had been easier to believe that, so she simply had.

It had been hard enough to conceive of the idea of being married, when that had become necessary to conceive of. It is not as frightening as Frieren thought, now, something gentle and welcoming where she’d expected confinement or to confront an entire world of expectations she could not meet, but it had been an adequate shock to make her wish to avoid any further ones. Having a child would be a far greater shock than Himmel had been, so it is easiest to rationalize, and to tell herself that a human and an elf are unlikely to conceive, and that she need not worry that they would.

She senses it quickly, though, and it simply becomes a fact of her life.

For all of her fear of shocks and sudden alterations, Frieren carries them off well when they come. There is no use in panicking, so she never does, calmly and forthrightly laying out the facts first to herself, and then to Himmel. She’s read about things like this, so she knows the signs when she senses them: a sluggish feeling of carrying too much weight, strange disruptions in the flow of her mana. It becomes erratic, harder to conceal and control. Like it is acting with a mind of its own.

Frieren does not waste time trying to rationalize it away or come up with other reasons she might be feeling so strange. Best just to face it: somehow, in spite of the differences in their biology and the infrequency of their coupling, they have managed to make her pregnant.

If anything, it only makes her a little sulky. Frieren is not a stranger to hardship, but she has never had to stop moving, and this exhausted feeling like dragging a ball and chain behind her makes her want to curl up in her bed and sleep away whole days. She will not be able to continue her work if that is the condition she’s going to remain in. And she has to tell Himmel.

Himmel who has not had to live a settled life since he was fifteen.

Himmel who looks at her so longingly but says nothing, knowing her interest is as capricious as it is infrequent, too hesitant to tell her what he wants.

So it is unsurprising that he looks more stunned than she had when he finds her curled up miserably in bed in the middle of the day, and later, when she tells him the reason why.

“I’m exhausted,” she says weakly. “Constantly.”

Himmel sits beside her, his weight upsetting the mattress, and presses the back of his hand to his forehead. “Are you getting sick?”

She raises her head; this is the time to say it, laid out perfectly in front of her.

“Not really.”

“Then-”

“I think I’m pregnant.”

He draws back his hand, frozen in the air, and blinks, twice, three times, before he lowers it back down to his lap. His mouth opens and closes but no sound comes out. She thinks with less amusement than she wishes she could spare that he’s never looked so befuddled before.

“How…?”

For this, she gives him the dirtiest look she knows.

“I mean, I…I…when?” Himmel stammers. “I thought…we thought…”

“Well, we were wrong.”

“I…”

Then Frieren decides he’s been paused for far too long, and tugs at his shirt.

“I’m tired, Himmel.”

He turns to her, and his face softens.

“You’re serious?” he asks.

“Mm.”

“You think…a baby…?”

“Mmhm.”

She’s too tired for questions, too sick for conversation. He senses it quickly and moves back the covers to lay down beside her, looks without touching, then, gingerly, brushes his fingers across her cheek.

“That makes me so happy, Frieren,” he murmurs, and it is so strange to see him happy without his usual exuberance that she almost does not believe he really is.

But it clicks, then–he must be holding himself back, trying to give the reaction he thinks she can handle, restraining his wild enthusiasm because Frieren doesn’t have the energy for it. Restraint is the only reason he barely touches her when he usually forgets his strength and embraces her like he’s trying to squeeze her to death when he gets too excited. Already he is being cautious, thinking of her and what this means for her body and her heart, and it is Frieren, not Himmel, who comes closer.

There are good things about Himmel being so much bigger than she is. He is a place she can easily hide. And now she takes comfort in that, the way he blocks out the light that her aching head doesn’t want to see when she buries her face in the crook of his neck. She clutches at the back of his shirt, and he knows her meaning.

Later, when he’s less frightened of frightening her, he’ll want to climb up to the roof and announce it to the whole wide world, and pick Frieren up and spin her like a rag doll until she scolds him for making her dizzy, and go out and buy everything he sees for a baby whose presence isn’t even visible beneath her clothes yet. He’ll theorize wildly about when it happened, whether it was this day or that, and laugh in triumphant disbelief at his own luck for having beaten the odds this way, and kiss her, and do all manner of things Frieren will be too tired to even try to keep up with. That is his way–gentle when he is asked to be, wildly exuberant when he is not. He will simply be too excited to restrain himself once he wears out his self-control.

But he hasn’t yet, and he holds Frieren like she is delicate, something with which to be very careful, and though everything is frightening, this is known. Safe.

Maybe they will be all right, after all.

#dailyfrimmel #frimmel #frieren/himmel #frieren: beyond journey's end #sousou no frieren #canon divergence #pregnancy #this is really becoming “everyfewdaysfrimmel�� oh well #domestic #established relationship

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idontknowreallywhy · 6 months ago

Text

Resurface 25 - Regroup

Story so far (let’s be honest, all this resolution stuff will seem pretty random if you haven’t got the backstory but it does involve a puppy pile and who needs justification for that)

A bit more of the aftermath. It doesn’t go anywhere fast but as I keep telling myself These Things Take Time To Work Through.

I mean nobody actually expected any plot furtherance to have occurred in the past fortnight did they?! You should know me better than that by now 😏

(Side note - I am going to put it out there and say I think I’m going to have this wrapped up in 30 chapters, plus an epilogue that is already written… so the plane is on the approach, as it were ;) )

💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚

Scott woke in a nest.

He was fairly sure he hadn’t gone to sleep in one.

However, given he was not alone and that the sounds of slumber surrounding him were so familiar and beloved, he decided to go with it for now. There was time for for a subtle situation assessment at least.

It was warm and his situation was objectively comfy, despite being on the floor. A department store’s worth of pillows had been deployed around him at some stage, there were many blankets and numerous other, as yet unidentified, fluffy objects. The comfort-level was actually almost aggressively high.

Subjectively though… everything ached like it would with an intense bout of flu. All his bones felt wrong, as if his skeleton had been taken out, thrown down the stairs, and shoved back in at random. There was a constant background throb inside his skull. His throat, his eyes, his nostrils… all felt swollen like they’d been attacked by angry bees. Had he been sick? His heart dropped a little, if he was sick he shouldn’t be sharing his nest - he’d be infectious!

He thought about moving and sneaking away but every muscle point blank refused. His family were in the nest and he really needed them right now. He always did, but the need to be physically close felt suddenly emotionally overwhelming, like trapping a cold finger under something heavy or walking on a block of Lego… for a few seconds his brain couldn’t process any other information.

When the bunch of mush inside his head did reboot, it noted the soles of his feet were stinging sharply. That was both new and distinctly unusual for flu…

OH! The glass. Of course.

That.

All that. Oh.

Oh Virgil.

He tightened his arms around his biggest little brother who rumbled some sleepy nonsense in response. The two of them appeared to be covered in Scott’s old bathrobe. And what Scott had initially interpreted as Virgil’s arm slung over the both of them from behind him in fact ended in one of John’s elegant hands… a John who happened to be wearing one of Virgil’s flannel shirts. No, wait… Scott squinted at the cuff in the half light… Two. John was sporting double plaid.

You know what, fair enough.

The squid was squidding on Virgil’s other side, limbs locked on and only a shock of dark blonde hair visible as his face was buried between Virgil’s shoulder blades. A long time ago Scott would have worried at his ability to breathe in that position but although their little fish had not yet developed the ability to respire underwater (much to his obvious frustration), he had long proven himself perfectly able to obtain sufficient oxygen through apparently impermeable brotherly surfaces.

Scott reached out with all available senses to locate the final piece of the brother puzzle and it didn’t take long. Allie’s pointy chin dug into his thigh and… yeah he’d been drooling in his sleep the same way he had ever since he was a toddler. The soggy patch on his jeans was going to be hard to ignore now he’d noticed it but, aww, Allie.

A lithe dark shape reclined in the bedside chair, constantly on guard even in slumber. A smaller stockier one was tucked into the bed, snoring ever so gently.

As Scott’s eyes adjusted to the gloom he noticed a mysterious green glow in the armchair in the far corner - lifting his head ever so slightly he could identify MAX’s standby light glinting off a pair of glasses.

Truly, everyone was here.

As if knowing she’d been left off his mental checklist a hologram popped up from the bedside comm at 10% brightness, still a surprise that made him blink his eyes rapidly to compensate. The familiar ring of lights flickering then shifting into a single question mark.

He wasn’t sure when his feelings had shifted from being creeped out to being comforted by her constant watch over them all but, his heart warmed by the enquiry, he raised a hand, ever so gradually, to form a thumbs up.

The lights shifted and spun in a rainbow of colours before mimicking the thumbs up symbol, shifting quickly to a heart shape and then a series of Zs before blinking out.

He couldn’t decide whether he was more amused that EOS was now communicating via teenage emoji-speak or that she was now also nagging him to sleep. Virgil had started snoring slightly and that always had a soporific effect and so a large part of Scott’s brain was inclined to take her advice. He screwed up his face trying to suppress a huge yawn. After all… given he knew someone was keeping an eye on things…

perhaps it would be ok to let himself… drift… just a little…

💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙

Virgil woke in a symphony of family.

It was not, he would acknowledge, what most people would understand as music. Sure, he could hear them, could pick out their individual ways of breathing and all their other little sleep noises as easily as if they spoke their names in a roll call. But it wasn’t entirely an auditory thing. Nor was it entirely a visual, olfactory or tactile thing either… not entirely, although they all played a part.

He felt them all, their presence surrounded him in full technicolour. And he could hear the colours and see the inaudible sounds of the music they made merely by existing.

He knew each brother’s melody, and those of Kayo, Grandma and Hiram too… they wove around and through him and harmonised with his own motif, supporting it, lifting it, enhancing it into something more beautiful. He made sense. He knew he was home precisely where he belonged. He was safe. Everyone accounted for.

And yet…

There was another here too.

Hollow. Barely tangible. No life force of his own, he… it… was fuelled by desperation and denial… memory mutated. Virgil knew he was there and yet his presence was only a shadow.

He opened one eye with a sense of trepidation and, suspicion confirmed, closed it again, curling his body back into the embrace of the real and the solid.

Gordon clung to his left, Scott surrounded his right, the scent of both flooded over him, he could feel their breath. But he could feel Him too.

Virgil knew what was happening - he’d been here before, after all. And now he knew, he knew it would pass soon and in a significant way that made it less horrifying, albeit still deeply deeply uncomfortable. But… perhaps… he could approach this with a degree of scientific detachment? Virgil slowly opened his eyes, allowed the light of dawn to enter his pupils and wondered how much of what he would see was actually entering his brain that way.

Standing, head bowed, by the end of the bed was Scott.

His Scotty. His best, most faithful friend, familiar as his own soul.

Broken.

Bearded, battered, bruised… he raised his face to meet Virgil’s gaze from within darkened, swollen eye sockets, blue only just managing to penetrate the mess of yellow, purple and red.

Cheekbones like knives, skeletal hands peeking out from sleeves of that cursed blue, the wrong blue. Not Scott’s bright astral blue. Too dark, too formal. It smothered him.

He looked so tired and so faded he was almost grey.

Virgil’s heart stuttered - how could he have let this happen? He was supposed to look after him! He was supposed to prevent…

The big brother Scott that was his conscience frowned, the haggard wraith Scott that was his sickness shook his head, the sleepy but solid Scott who held him close tightened his grip as if to stop him launching himself down that mental rabbit hole. Virgil allowed himself a tiny amused smile as he briefly closed his eyes to savour the hug - no version of Scott, real or illusory, would ever stand by and let him take the blame.

He looked up again, intending to whisper an apology anyway…

But he was gone.

And he was here.

He was right here.

💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #resurface fic #hurt/comfort #Tw: psychosis #Tw: mental health

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shion-yu · 6 months ago

Note

“I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me” and “leave me alone” from the prompt list for whoever you feel it fits the most!

Day 25: High fever

Finally getting to this ask with these prompts for @medwhumpmay! Ft. A grumpy sick Alex and Ryo being annoying. Takes place directly before Day 23: Resisting treatment. Thank you so much for the ask @salembutnotthecat, you’re awesome.

Waiting for Alex to admit he’s not feeling well isn’t a fun game. Ryo knows this from experience, because a sick Alex is a pissed off Alex who tends to have a wicked tongue. He tries not to fuss because of this, but sometimes he feels like he has to because Alex simply doesn’t know when to quit.

Like right now - Ryo is absolutely positive that Alex is running a fever. He’s been in a bad mood since yesterday, his face is pale and blotchy, and he keeps closing his eyes as if trying to convince himself to stay upright. Ryo can only watch him for so long without saying something.

They’re walking back to the apartment when Alex finally stumbles. Ryo automatically grabs him by the arm, not that he wasn’t watching carefully for this to happen the entire time.

Alex growls and shoves him away, leaving Ryo resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Leave me alone,” he snaps. “I’m fine.”

“Alex,” Ryo sighs. “Are you seriously gonna keep playing this game?” Alex doesn’t answer and Ryo knows the answer is yes. Alex is a master at this game. He’ll push himself until he either gets better or physically can’t push anymore.

Apparently though, that limit is coming sooner today than usual because the second they reach the apartment elevator, Alex mumbles, “Fuck” and goes down. At least he would have if Ryo hadn’t caught him.

He’s burning up, Ryo realizes regretfully. No wonder. Pushing through a sore throat or a cough is one thing, but a high fever like this is a lot harder. Alex must feel like shit. He snakes his arm around Alex’s back and holds him up. “Almost home, babe,” he says.

“I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me… I was fine this morning,” Alex mutters. Ryo frowns. A sudden onset of such a high fever isn’t a great sign, and it’s flu season. Alex is notoriously bad at showing up to any of the doctors appointments Shu makes him, and Ryo wouldn’t be surprised if he forgot to get his flu shot this year. He's been so busy with his music after all.

“It’s okay,” Ryo reassures him. “We’re gonna get you in bed and you can sleep and whine all you want from there.”

Alex snorts weakly. He allows Ryo to help him into their apartment though and sits on the edge of the bed as Ryo changes him into pajamas. “What other symptoms do you have?” Ryo asks him.

“My head’s killing me,” Alex says. “I just feel like crap.” At least he’s being honest now, Ryo thinks.

“I think you might have the flu,” Ryo says. “Just stay in bed and it’ll be fine, okay?”

“Fine,” Alex says. His complacency is even further proof of how shit he must feel. Ryo nods and gives his hot face a kiss. “What was that for?” Alex asks, glaring at him.

“Am I not allowed to give you a kiss?” Ryo raises one eyebrow. It’s going to be a long week dealing with a grumpy yet needy Alex, he thinks. “I won’t catch it if it’s the flu,” he guesses Alex’s thoughts. “Unlike you, I remember to go to the doctor.”

“Are you just gonna make fun of me the whole time?” Alex snaps. “Coz if so-“

“No no,” Ryo says quickly. Well, not the whole time. Maybe some of the time. He doesn’t always get such a captive audience in Alex, after all. He holds up the thermometer with a wild grin. “Now open up, or I’ll have to take this another way.”

When Alex punches the device out of his hands, Ryo expects nothing less.

#medwhump may #shionwrites #sickfic #oc: Alex #oc: ryo #fever whump #sicknario

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shiorihyuga · 2 months ago

Text

Tides of Fate

When the Scouts of Paradis meet a mysterious pod of powerful sirens, their world is turned upside down. Mating with these beautiful yet dangerous creatures gives them enhanced abilities, but the bonds are deeper—and far more complex—than anyone expected. Eren, Levi, and the rest of the top brass find themselves falling for their siren mates in ways that challenge their loyalties, while Mikasa struggles with jealousy and resentment. The lines between duty, desire, and power blur as tensions rise both inside and outside the walls.

Chapter 25: Order and Chaos

Levi opened the door to his quarters and stepped inside, his expression as unreadable as ever. Behind him, Aria followed with an eager energy, her lavender hair cascading down her back as she took in her surroundings. She had never been to Levi’s personal space before, and now, knowing it would be her new home, her eyes immediately began scanning the rooms with keen interest.

The quarters were spacious, much more so than the rest of the regiment’s lodgings, as befitted someone of Levi’s rank. The suite had a clean, minimalistic style, which was no surprise to Aria. The living room had a simple couch and coffee table, the walls were bare except for a single painting that Levi had probably never even looked at, and the shelves were neatly organized. Everything had a place, and everything was in order—just like Levi himself.

Aria paused in the doorway for a moment, her lavender eyes sparkling with amusement. “This place is so... you,” she said with a teasing grin, her voice soft but full of playful affection. She stepped further into the living room, her fingers brushing lightly over the back of the couch as she began mentally cataloging where she could make changes.

Levi, already knowing what she was thinking, raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He wasn’t one for a lot of decoration or unnecessary clutter, but he knew that Aria had a very different perspective on these things.

Aria wandered over to the bookshelf, her gaze flicking over the perfectly aligned volumes before turning to Levi with a smirk. “So, where can I start adding my feminine touch?”

Levi sighed quietly, closing the door behind them as he crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. “As long as it doesn’t disrupt the way things are now,” he said in his usual calm, even tone. “I don’t want any clutter. And no messing with my cleaning supplies.”

Aria laughed, her voice melodic and light. “Don’t worry, Captain Clean Freak. I won’t touch your precious cleaning supplies.” She moved to the dining area, inspecting the plain table and chairs, then over to the small but functional kitchen, where everything was neatly arranged. “But this place could use a little warmth, don’t you think?”

Levi shrugged, his gaze following her movements as she circled the room. “I don’t need warmth. I need order.”

Aria gave him a mischievous look over her shoulder. “Well, now that I’m here, you’re going to get a little of both.” She walked back to him, her eyes gleaming with a playful challenge. “Besides, this is our home now, isn’t it?”

Levi’s eyes softened just a fraction, though his stoic exterior remained intact. “I suppose it is,” he said quietly.

Aria grinned, pleased with herself as she stepped closer, resting her hands on his chest and looking up at him with a knowing smile. “You know, I’m not going to turn this place into a palace. Just a few things here and there—some flowers, maybe a new rug, and definitely something for those bare walls. What do you think?”

Levi sighed again, though there was no real resistance behind it. “As long as it’s not too much.”

Aria beamed, her hands sliding down from his chest as she stepped back, already imagining the changes she would make. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it tasteful. You’ll hardly even notice.”

She wandered toward the bedroom next, peeking in through the doorway. The bedroom, much like the rest of the quarters, was simple—just a bed, a nightstand, and a dresser. It was functional, but there was no sign of personality in the room. Aria tilted her head, already imagining the ways she could make it more inviting.

“This could use some work,” she commented with a smirk, turning to Levi. “Maybe some new sheets? Something softer, more comfortable.”

Levi raised an eyebrow. “There’s nothing wrong with the sheets.”

Aria laughed softly. “Of course you’d say that. But trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

Levi watched her, his usual guarded expression softening slightly as he took in her enthusiasm. He wasn’t used to someone like Aria—someone who was so full of life and energy, who wanted to leave her mark on everything around her. But, despite himself, he didn’t mind it. Her presence had already started to change things, and though he would never admit it out loud, a part of him was glad for it.

As Aria wandered back into the living room, she shot Levi another playful grin. “Alright, Captain, I’ve got plans for this place. Just give me some time, and I’ll make it feel like a real home.”

Levi shrugged, though there was a faint flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Just don’t get carried away.”

Aria leaned up on her tiptoes, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before stepping back with a wink. “No promises.”

Levi, despite his best efforts, couldn’t help but smirk at her. “Figures.”

With that, Aria began exploring the rest of the suite, already planning how she would add her own touches. Levi, as always, watched her from a distance, his calm gaze following her every move. It was strange to think that this was his life now—this bond with Aria, this shared space. But in the back of his mind, he couldn’t deny that it felt... right.

And even though he knew Aria would undoubtedly turn his orderly quarters upside down with her ideas, he couldn’t bring himself to stop her. Not when her presence was the only thing that made him feel something other than the cold discipline he had lived by for so long.

This was their new home now.

And no matter what changes Aria made, Levi knew he would find a way to adjust.

…

Levi could only watch, a mixture of resignation and quiet exasperation on his face, as Aria systematically transformed his once-pristine quarters. The subtle changes had started almost immediately after she moved in—small things at first: a vase of flowers on the dining table, a plush throw blanket tossed over the back of the couch, a few soft pillows that had no business being in a soldier’s living quarters.

But then it escalated.

Aria was a girly girl through and through, and it showed in every corner of the quarters now. Levi’s once bare and functional space had been overtaken by an explosion of color, fabric, and accessories. The closet, which had once been neatly organized with Levi’s standard uniforms and plain shirts, was now overflowing with clothes in every imaginable color and style. Dresses, skirts, blouses—all of them brightly colored and delicate—hung beside his own things, cramming the space so tightly that Levi could barely find his own clothes anymore.

Shoes lined the floor of the closet, stacked in haphazard rows. High heels, sandals, boots—all of them Aria’s. Jewelry spilled out of boxes and trays, shining in the light whenever she opened the closet doors. And the scent—her perfumes lingered everywhere, floral and sweet, filling the air with a fragrance that was distinctly hers.

Levi had tried, at first, to maintain some semblance of control. He had grumbled about the shoes taking up all the space, about how he couldn’t find anything anymore, but Aria just laughed and kissed him on the cheek, telling him not to worry. "It’s all under control, Captain," she would say with a wink, as if that solved everything.

But the worst of it, in Levi’s opinion, was the vanity.

Aria had insisted he build one for her, right by the bedroom window where the light came in just right. It wasn’t even a suggestion—it was a demand. "I need a place for my makeup," she had said, pouting in that way that Levi had already learned he couldn’t resist. "And for my perfumes. And all my beauty stuff."

And now, there it was: a full vanity, with a mirror framed in gold, small drawers filled with an array of makeup, brushes, and perfumes. Bottles of every shape and size lined the top of the vanity, each one labeled with some exotic-sounding name, their scents swirling through the air whenever Aria got ready for the day.

Levi stood in the doorway of the bedroom, arms crossed, staring at the vanity as if it had personally insulted him. Aria, sitting at the vanity, was humming to herself as she carefully applied her makeup. She caught his reflection in the mirror and smiled at him, her lavender eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Don’t give me that look, Captain," Aria teased, dabbing perfume on her wrists. "You knew this was coming."

Levi grunted, his expression unimpressed. "You didn’t need all this. You’ve taken up half the closet, and now you’ve turned this place into... into this."

Aria laughed, leaning back in her chair as she turned to face him. "Into what? A home? This is what homes are supposed to look like. Not... whatever it was before."

"It was organized," Levi shot back, though his voice lacked any real bite. "I don’t need all this."

Aria stood and sauntered over to him, a playful grin on her face as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "Well, I do. And now that we live together, it’s not just about you, is it?"

Levi sighed, shaking his head. "I knew I shouldn’t have let you in here."

"You say that, but you don’t mean it." Aria pressed a soft kiss to his jaw, her fingers trailing down his chest. "You secretly love it."

Levi gave her a flat look, but there was no denying the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He knew he had lost this battle before it even began. "Whatever."

Aria grinned, stepping back with a victorious look on her face. "I’m not done yet, you know. I’ve still got a few ideas for the bathroom. I was thinking some scented candles, maybe a new shower curtain—something with a little more color."

Levi pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning quietly. "I’ll never get my space back."

"Stop being so dramatic." Aria laughed, waving him off as she returned to the vanity, adjusting a bottle of perfume that had been slightly out of place. "You’ve still got your side of the bed."

"For now," Levi muttered under his breath, though his eyes softened as he watched her.

Despite the chaos she had brought with her—despite the colors, the perfumes, the sheer volume of stuff that now filled his quarters—Levi couldn’t deny that Aria had made the space feel... warmer. It wasn’t just about the decorations or the vanity. It was about her presence, her laughter, the way she moved through the rooms as if she belonged there. And maybe, just maybe, Levi didn’t mind it as much as he pretended to.

Still, he wasn’t about to admit that out loud.

As Aria continued fussing over her vanity, Levi leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "You’d better not touch my cleaning supplies," he warned, his voice half-serious, half-teasing.

Aria glanced over her shoulder, flashing him a dazzling smile. "Wouldn’t dream of it, Captain."

Levi shook his head, but the small smile he couldn’t quite hide said more than words ever could.

…

The common room was unusually lively that afternoon, though not because of the usual hustle and bustle of soldiers preparing for missions. Instead, it was the sight of the sirens lounging together on the large couch, all huddled closely, laughing and giggling. They looked so carefree, completely at ease in each other's company. Some of them were even sitting on one another’s laps playfully, the warmth and affection between them clear as day.

Aria, true to her flirty nature, was stretched out lazily across Luna’s lap, her lavender hair spilling over the armrest as she toyed with a strand of Luna's white curls. Bria, as bold as ever, had comfortably draped herself across Solara's knee, her legs swinging lazily as she laughed at something Solara had whispered. Melody was curled up beside Sera, her shy smile soft as Sera braided her hair. Rue, ever the firecracker, had perched herself on the back of the couch, leaning against Caspia, who occasionally tugged at her fiery red curls, making Rue swat her away with a grin.

It was a peaceful, intimate scene—the sirens finally able to relax, no longer needing to be on guard after so long being hunted and on the run. Now that they were mated, they felt safe, protected by the bonds they shared with their mates.

Two soldiers from the scout regiment happened to be passing by the common room when they caught sight of the sirens. They stopped in their tracks, eyes wide, clearly flabbergasted by the sight in front of them. These women, the sirens who had enchanted and bonded with the most powerful men in the regiment, were sitting so closely, so openly affectionate with each other—it was a sight unlike anything they had ever seen.

“Are... are they always like this?” one of the scouts muttered under his breath, his eyes glued to the couch where the sirens were now giggling and leaning into each other.

His companion, equally stunned, scratched the back of his head, still processing the scene. “I don’t know, man. I’ve never seen them like this. They’re always with their mates, so I didn’t even know they hung out like this.”

Aria, always quick to notice when someone was watching, caught sight of the two soldiers lingering in the doorway and smirked. “Enjoying the show, boys?” she called out teasingly, her lavender eyes sparkling with mischief as she stretched out even more, draping her arm across Luna’s shoulders.

Luna, slightly more reserved but still smiling softly, gave Aria a playful nudge before glancing over at the soldiers with a knowing look. “Don’t mind her,” Luna said in her thick accent. “She’s just trying to get a rise out of you.”

One of the scouts, his face turning red, quickly averted his gaze, but the other one couldn’t help but chuckle awkwardly. “Sorry, we didn’t mean to stare,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “It’s just... we’ve never seen anything like this. You all seem so... close.”

Bria, ever bold and confident, shifted in Solara’s lap and winked at the scout, her burgundy eyes gleaming. “Well, that’s because we are close. We’ve been through a lot together.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, her grin widening. “Besides, now that we don’t have to run anymore, we can actually relax.”

The first scout blinked, trying to recover his composure. “Right, I guess that makes sense. You’re... not soldiers, right? You don’t have to fight anymore?”

Solara, always the flirt, leaned in closer to Bria, her golden hair catching the light as she smiled coyly at the two scouts. “Exactly. We’ve spent enough time running and surviving. Now, we can just be ourselves.”

Melody, who had been quietly enjoying Sera’s company, glanced up shyly, her soft smile adding to the serene atmosphere. “It’s nice not having to worry all the time. We finally feel safe.”

The two scouts exchanged glances, a newfound understanding dawning on them. The sirens weren’t like the rest of them—these women had lived lives full of fear and danger, constantly hunted for their powers and beauty. Now, with their mates, they were finally able to find peace.

“Must be nice,” the second scout said with a small smile. “We’re always on edge around here. I can’t even imagine what it must feel like to just... relax like that.”

Caspia, ever the jokester, leaned back and grinned. “Maybe you should try it sometime. Find yourself a nice siren to mate with, and you’ll see what we mean.”

Rue snorted from her perch on the couch’s back, flicking her fiery curls away from her face. “Good luck with that. We’re a pretty rare catch.”

The soldiers laughed, the tension easing as the sirens’ warmth began to rub off on them. Even though these women weren’t soldiers, their presence brought a strange sense of peace to the often chaotic headquarters.

“I guess it’s good to see you all like this,” the first scout said, glancing back at the group of sirens. “After everything we’ve heard about how tough your lives have been, it’s nice to see you finally get to enjoy yourselves.”

Aria, always the ringleader, sat up slightly, her smirk softening into a genuine smile. “You’re sweet. But yeah, we’ve been through hell, and now? Now we’re finally free. And we have our mates to thank for that.”

The second scout nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, those guys are different now. Stronger, more intense. But it makes sense now that I see how much you mean to them.”

The sirens exchanged soft smiles, their bond palpable as they looked at one another. This was their time to relax, to heal, and to find joy again—something they hadn’t known in so long.

As the two scouts began to leave, one of them glanced back over his shoulder and smiled. “You’ve definitely brought something different to the regiment. It’s... a good kind of different.”

Aria blew him a playful kiss. “Don’t worry, sweetie. We’re just getting started.”

The soldiers left, still flabbergasted by the scene they had witnessed, but with a deeper understanding of what these sirens had gone through—and what they had brought to the lives of their mates.

For the sirens, it was just another peaceful moment among sisters, finally free to enjoy the closeness they had always relied on. Now, there was no more running, no more fear. They were safe, and they were home.

…

Floch stood in the training grounds, overseeing a group of Jaegerist recruits as they practiced their formations and techniques. His eyes were sharp, his tone commanding, as he barked orders at the recruits, trying to maintain the seriousness of the training session. But it was hard—very hard to focus with Bria nearby, lounging under the sun in her bikini.

Bria, as seductive and alluring as ever, had chosen that exact spot to sunbathe, knowing full well the effect she had on Floch and everyone else around. Her burgundy hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her eyes—those striking, hypnotic eyes—gleamed in the sunlight as she stretched out on a towel. She seemed completely at ease, her flawless skin practically glowing as she tilted her head back, her eyes half-closed as if soaking in every ray of sunlight.

Floch had tried—he really had tried—to stay focused on the training. But how could he? Every time he turned to correct a recruit’s form or shout an instruction, his gaze inevitably drifted toward Bria, her bikini-clad figure impossible to ignore. And he wasn’t the only one.

The Jaegerist recruits were struggling. Their movements were sloppy, their attention wavering, and more than one recruit had completely lost focus mid-swing as their eyes strayed over to where Bria lay, blissfully unaware—or so it seemed—of the chaos she was causing.

Floch gritted his teeth, trying to snap himself out of it. He knew Bria was doing this on purpose. She loved playing with him, testing his control, knowing exactly how to push his buttons. And she was doing a damn good job of it.

"Alright, focus!" Floch shouted, his voice more aggressive than usual as he tried to rein in both the recruits and himself. "We’re here to train, not get distracted! Move your feet, form up! Now!"

One of the recruits, a younger man who had barely managed to tear his eyes away from Bria, fumbled with his weapon and quickly stood back in line. His face was flushed, a mixture of embarrassment and something else entirely as he glanced over at his fellow recruits, all of whom seemed equally distracted.

“Sorry, sir!” one of them muttered, though it was clear his attention was still wandering.

Floch rubbed his temples, trying to fight back the frustration. He knew what was going on—it was impossible not to know. Bria was an absolute vision, lying there with all the grace and sensuality of a goddess, her body stretched out in that skimpy bikini that seemed designed to drive him—and everyone else—crazy.

He turned back to the recruits, trying one last time to get things back on track. “Look,” he growled, his eyes narrowing. “I get it. She’s... distracting. But we’ve got a job to do here, so get your heads back in the game or you’ll be running laps until the sun goes down!”

The recruits snapped to attention, their faces red but determined as they tried to focus on the training once more. But the effect was temporary. Every time Floch stole a glance at Bria—and he couldn’t stop himself—the recruits followed suit, their stances slipping as they lost focus all over again.

Bria, still lounging as if she had all the time in the world, caught Floch’s gaze and gave him a wicked smile. She stretched her arms languidly above her head, drawing even more attention to her figure, and then slowly rolled onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows as she looked directly at him.

"You're doing great, love," she purred, her voice smooth as silk, loud enough for Floch to hear but not quite loud enough for the recruits. “Don't mind me. I'm just enjoying the show.”

Floch’s jaw clenched. She was definitely doing this on purpose.

One of the recruits muttered something under his breath—something that sounded suspiciously like “lucky bastard”—before quickly catching himself when Floch shot him a warning glare.

“Alright, that’s it!” Floch snapped, throwing his hands in the air. “Break! Take five!”

The recruits, clearly relieved, stumbled away to catch their breath, though more than a few of them gravitated toward where Bria was lounging, trying not to stare too blatantly. Floch, meanwhile, stalked over to where Bria lay, his frustration barely concealed as he crouched down beside her.

“Really?” Floch muttered, his voice low but exasperated. “You had to pick this spot? You know exactly what you’re doing.”

Bria turned her head slightly, her burgundy eyes gleaming with amusement. “Who, me?” she asked innocently, though the playful grin on her lips betrayed her. “I’m just sunbathing. You’re the one getting distracted.”

Floch narrowed his eyes, though there was no real anger behind it. “You’re driving me insane, Bria.”

Bria laughed softly, the sound rich and melodious. She reached out and playfully trailed her fingers down his arm. “That’s the idea, love. You’re cute when you’re frustrated.”

Floch sighed, though he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re such a handful.”

“But I’m your handful,” Bria teased, shifting slightly so that she could lean in closer to him. Her voice dropped to a seductive whisper, meant only for his ears. “But if it’s really that distracting... I could always go somewhere else.”

Floch’s mind raced. He could hardly concentrate as it was, but the thought of Bria leaving? No, that wasn’t an option either. He wanted her there—even if she was driving him mad.

He shook his head, his voice low. “Don’t even think about it. Stay right here.”

Bria’s eyes sparkled with victory. “As you wish, love.”

With one last teasing smile, Bria settled back into her sunbathing position, leaving Floch to return to the recruits—who, despite the break, were still visibly distracted. As Floch stood up and glanced over his shoulder at Bria, he sighed inwardly. Keeping his focus—and the recruits’ focus—was going to be nearly impossible with Bria around.

But, deep down, Floch wouldn’t have it any other way.

The recruits stood around in a loose circle, catching their breath and trying to focus after Floch called for a break. But it was impossible. Their eyes kept drifting back to Bria, lounging there in her bikini like a goddess, casting glances in Floch's direction with a playful smirk. There wasn’t a man in the group who wasn’t envious of him, and it was clear from the whispers and exchanged looks.

One of the recruits nudged his friend, muttering under his breath, “Can you believe it? Floch, of all people. How the hell did he end up with her?”

The other recruit shook his head, still staring at Bria as she lazily stretched out on the towel, her body catching the sunlight just right. “I don’t know, man. She’s... something else.”

Another soldier, standing nearby, let out a low whistle. “It’s not just her looks, either. The way she talks to him, like he’s the only person in the room? Floch’s got it made.”

The group of them continued to gawk, their training long forgotten as they watched Bria rise gracefully to her feet. She stretched languidly, her arms arching over her head, her burgundy eyes gleaming as she caught the attention of everyone—especially Floch. Her bikini, small and form-fitting, left little to the imagination, and her every movement was deliberate, sensual, as if she were fully aware of the effect she had on them.

Floch, despite trying to keep his composure, couldn’t tear his eyes away. The jealousy from the recruits practically radiated off them as they watched the interaction.

“Floch’s a lucky bastard,” one of them grumbled under his breath. “Doesn’t even deserve her.”

“Seriously,” another added. “What’s she see in him?”

Bria, catching the whispered conversations, merely smirked and stretched again, taking her sweet time before casually walking over to Floch, her hips swaying in that slow, confident way that made him momentarily forget how to breathe.

Before she reached him, though, Melody and Caspia strolled over from the other side of the training grounds, their eyes sparkling with curiosity as they joined Bria. Melody, shy but sweet, gave a small wave in Floch’s direction, her sky-blue curls bouncing lightly as she walked, while Caspia grinned playfully, her orange hair catching the light as she teased Bria.

“Having fun, Bria?” Caspia asked with a knowing grin, her eyes flicking to Floch and the jealous recruits before landing back on her friend.

Bria grinned, unbothered by the attention. “Always,” she replied, flipping her hair back as she turned her gaze toward the recruits, who were still staring in awe. “Though it seems I’ve caused a bit of a distraction.”

Floch, trying to regain some semblance of control over the situation, cleared his throat and addressed the recruits. “Alright, break’s over! Back to work, now!”

The recruits groaned, but they obeyed, though their eyes kept wandering back to Bria, Melody, and Caspia, who were now standing together, chatting softly among themselves.

Melody, ever the sweet one, looked a bit embarrassed by all the attention, her cheeks slightly pink as she shifted from one foot to the other. “We didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said softly, glancing at Floch. “We were just coming to check on Bria.”

Caspia, on the other hand, didn’t mind the attention at all. In fact, she seemed to thrive on it. “Yeah, but let’s be honest, Floch. They’re not here to train. They’re here to gawk at your gorgeous siren,” she teased, nudging Bria with her elbow.

Bria laughed, a rich, melodic sound, and turned her gaze to Floch, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “They’re just jealous,” she said simply, her voice as smooth as silk. She stepped closer to him, her hand trailing lightly down his arm. “Can you blame them?”

Floch, caught somewhere between exasperation and pride, let out a resigned sigh. “No,” he admitted, his voice lower. “But you’re not making it any easier for me.”

Bria winked at him, leaning in just enough so only he could hear her next words. “I never said I was going to make it easy, love.”

The recruits, still glancing over at the group every chance they got, could only shake their heads, muttering quietly among themselves as they resumed their training—though it was clear their focus was entirely elsewhere.

One of the recruits, unable to hold it in any longer, groaned loudly and whispered to his friend, “This isn’t fair. How are we supposed to concentrate when that is happening right in front of us?”

The other recruit nodded in agreement, casting one last longing look at Bria before sighing. “I don’t know, man. Maybe if we trained harder, we could get that kind of luck too.”

As the recruits finally started to get back to work, Bria, Melody, and Caspia continued to chat, their laughter occasionally drifting over to the training grounds. And though Floch tried to keep things serious, his eyes couldn’t help but drift back to Bria, his focus slipping once again.

Because as much as he wanted to be professional, how could he when Bria—seductive, alluring, and absolutely captivating—was always just within reach?

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ot3 · 1 year ago

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Sorry that was supposed to say: I love your narumitsu Christmas fic, do you ever think you’ll write other fic?

Thank you very much! and probably, at some point. god knows i have so many ideas. i really want to someday get back to writing my leverage au. I started a direct sequel to the christmas fic over 2 years ago, set 25 years afterwards for more christmas shenanigans, but there was just way way too much i wanted to cram in there like it'd probably be bare minimum 30k and it just got really daunting. I've also got a Phoenix and Trucy centric fic i've been tossing around in my brain for a couple years i'd really like to finish someday, but what's been written of it so far is just really not good.

I'm not much of a prose writer, i don't enjoy doing it a ton and i'm not super confident with the results, so it's really a last ditch effort for when an idea truly will not get purged from my brain. right now pretty much any of the time i would theoretically spend writing goes to working on my comic.

Anyway I had like the first thousand or so words of that sequel fic written up and then just stopped but ill stick whats there below the cut. YMMV.

Neither of them love Los Angeles, but they stay. Sooner or later everyone ends up back there. like a cat neglecting a sunbeam in favor of lying on the worn down arm of a highly trafficked couch, all Phoenix and Miles have to do is wait. The house feels cavernous when it’s just the two of them alone, but the days bleed by fast, sometimes distressingly so, and that emptiness only lasts as much as anything else does.

They’re alone now. Over a year or two since they’ve had a houseguest stay for more than a handful of days at a time. It makes the empty rooms feel frivolous. Perhap there’s something sad about it in the abstract, so many beds gathering dust. Miles doesn’t really mind it.

In the kitchen: Phoenix standing in front of the island chopping peppers and onions, Miles shuffling up behind him. Wraps his arms around his husband’s stomach, in the airy privacy of broad windows looking out to nothing but a generous yard. One hand slips under the hem of his shirt.

“Mmm… making breakfast?” He mumbles into Phoenix’s neck before laying a row of kisses along it.

“Yes, I’m making an omelet. For myself.”

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Miles pushes Phoenix’s shirt up a little further, and starts working his mouth across his jaw.

“I asked you if you wanted breakfast, and you said no, and to let you sleep more, and I did,” Phoenix huffs.

“Yes, but now I’m awake,” he says, “and I’m hungry.”

One of Phoenix’s hands is still working the knife on the cutting board. The other reaches up over his shoulder to weave into Miles’ hair. Miles steps forward, pressing him insistently against the countertop.

“What? What is this?” Phoenix asks, tapping the flat of the knife on Miles’ wrist. “What are you doing here? Are you trying to have sex with me or do you want me to make you breakfast?”

“I want you to make me breakfast, and then I want to have sex with you.” It has been a long and busy week, but now that week is over. Miles intends to enjoy himself.

“So needy! Pick one or the other, I’m not running a charity here.”

“Breakfast.”

“You’re not even gonna pretend to think about that one?” He clicks his tongue. Sets the knife on the counter, turns around in Miles’ grip to loop his arms around the other man’s neck. “Don’t even have to consider if you want me more than an omelet?”

“I’m being efficient and cutting out the part of this conversation where you pretend you’re not going to want me to fuck you in an hour or so regardless.”

“I don’t know about that. Maybe I’m finally over it. You’ve been working so many late nights, maybe the spark is gone. What if it’s now or never?”

“I suppose,” Miles says, “that that’s a risk I’m willing to take. In pursuit of an excellent omelet.”

“Then I guess I’m making omelets.” Phoenix disentangles himself and turns around. Picks the knife back up and – and immediately hurls it onto the floor as he startles, caught completely off guard by his phone ringing further down the counter. “Shit!”

He answers it. Miles tries to lean in and pick up the other half of the conversation, but Phoenix plants a hand firmly across his face to keep him at bay. Smudging his glasses, the nerve. On his end, Phoenix doesn’t say much. Mostly ‘uh huh’ and ‘yeah’ but he sounds excited, topping off the call with a ‘great!’ He sets it back on the counter when he’s done.

“That was Apollo,” he says, with more gravity than Miles thinks a phone call from Apollo warrants, not that he isn’t fond of the man.

“And?”

“And he called to tell us that he and Klavier are good. For Christmas, I mean. They can come.”

“Is that-”

“Yeah, I think so. Pretty sure.” Phoenix starts counting on his fingers, mouthing something but not saying it out loud. “Yeah. That’s everyone.”

Miles fails to resist the urge to double check. He mentally runs over the list himself. Trucy. Franziska and Ema. Maya and Pearl, and her girls, and whatever other sprog the two of them will be bringing up from Kurain. Apollo and Klavier and the kids. Kay. That’s it. That’s everyone. How many years had it been since they were last able to wrangle all of these people in the same room? Five? Closer to ten?

“Goodness,” he finds himself saying.

“Yeah,” Phoenix says again, and then, a pause. “Yeah. Hey. We should do presents.”

“Christ. You had to go ahead and ruin it already, didn’t you?” Miles picks the knife up off the floor and sets it into the sink before handing Phoenix another from the block. “I’m not doing this on an empty stomach.”

Phoenix offers him a shitty little salute. “There’s that holiday spirit!” ----

Later, when they’re in the shower, Phoenix is thinking about it. They don’t do presents anymore. It had just trickled to a natural stop, unspoken, as everyone had gotten older and wealthier and more traveled. Houses and suitcases ending up with less and less empty space as years went on. If you saw something and thought someone just had to have it, you got it for them, but the expectation of it had long since flamed. Birthdays and Christmases marched by without much fanfare beyond a big dinner and a few too many drinks.

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crimsonlyinglilly · 9 months ago

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DAY 17: hostage situation

Day 17 of Febuwhump.

@febuwhump

A brief return to Stolen Three

Ages

Freya- 30 (and a century)

Finn - 29 (and a century)

Elijah - 25 (and a century)

----

They had lost a hundred years and with it, everyone they had managed to know beyond her was gone.

Dead and gone.

Dahlia lets them leave with a smile that can only promise pain but they go anyway, her brothers ignore the tree that had once been their escape, even after a hundred years of growth it was still the tree that Elijah had been tied to.

They split up as soon as they get out of sight of the hut, her brothers head to the smaller settlements further out while she goes to the Village

It is larger and much changed, the people around them, different.

Still she searched for a familiar face, someone who knew her.

There was no one.

She returns to Dahlia first, lets her aunt pull her into a hug and is deeply aware she and her brothers only have each other. The friends that had worked hard to keep safe from her; it mattered not as she still stole them. Time had taken them as they slept, they had grown, settled down, married, had children on their own, aged and died.

Those children had grown up, perhaps with faint stories of lost friends while they had been sleeping in their cabin.

They had lived and died and more would she realise, Freya and her brother truly were alone with her, trapped as the world lived and moved on without them.

Finn returned next, he let Dahlia pull him down into a hug, accepting it stiffly as she had down before he joined her sitting heavily as their shoulder knock.

They wait for Elijah and slowly as the light dims and the sun starts to set that this change may hit their little brother worse. He had been the one Dahlia kept closest, at first to ensure Freya and Finn behaved alway aware that she had Elijah, keeping him with her when she sent Freya and Finn out on errands, it wasn’t until he was in his mid teens that she started to allow him to go with them.

They had worried that he would struggle when he was finally allowed to meet other people but Elijah had been a natural charming, something she wasn’t sure was due to the fact Elijah had grown up entirely working around Dahlia’s mood or a born gift.

She doesn’t think too much on that as it leads to her wondering what his life would have been if he had been left with mother, what any of their lives would have been.

Elijah was well liked and made friends easily, spreading across the closest villages.

But now that just meant far more missing smiles and grave markers.

When Elijah does return it’s dark, Dahlia doesn't question his late return, instead as she did with both Freya and Finn, pulls him into a hug.

For once Elijah doesn’t return it.

“Elijah?” Dahlia frowns, Freya can't help but tense feeling Finn does the same besides her, Dahlia is worse when things don't go her way.

“I’m tired,” Elijah explained, adding as she stared “May I sleep?”

Dahlia doesn’t argue against it even after a century of sleep and Elijah doesn’t say anything to any of them.

In the days afterwards Elijah is quiet and solemn, a shadow of himself, as much as she and Finn worry over it, she doesn’t miss that their aunt, similarity, is unhappy with this new boy.

Freya’s almost sure the reason Dahlia decides to offer them the chance to travel is in response to Elijah's despondency.

Dahlia doesn’t like the idea she broke her favourite, Freya thinks and then hates herself for the thought.

But like all things with their aunt it comes with a catch.

They can travel as far as they can and return within six moons, but one of them stays with her.

A hostage to ensure their return, even knowing she would always find them.

Freya knows the moment it’s said, her brothers are already planning on staying, Elijah would even as he’s seemingly lost in grief, and Finn the most uncomfortable around Dahlia would stay alone with her if it gave them a taste of freedom.

But she wouldn’t let them, she was the oldest, it was her job to look after them.

Dahlia had already taken so much from Elijah and she wouldn’t let Finn stay with Dahlia when she still had days when she saw their father in him.

She had already had a year alone with their aunt, if she had been better during that year maybe her brothers would have been spared her cruelties. She could do this.

“I’ll stay.” she smiles as both her brothers look at her with anger as she beats them to it.

They try to argue but she ignores them and smiles.

She tells them to go as far as they can; to adventure and experience life, not to come back a moment too soon, to make the most of their time and to bring her back tales and gifts while ignoring Dahlia’s presents over her shoulder.

She could cope.

—-

Finn realises what Elijah had done days after they leave, he’d blame him guilt over leaving Freya alone with Her for not noticing sooner.

The solemn and heavy air that had covered Elijah since his return the day they woke had vanished as soon as they had left.

“You arranged this?” he asks numbly as they settle down for the night and his mind he struggles to put it all together.

“Sorry,” Eijah says and Finn thinks he doesn’t understand before he continues “I was hoping she’d let us all go, not permanently but-”

Finn starred as what he Elijah had done fully hits him, faking his grief, he had played their aunt, all of them.

“Did you even mourn them?” The words come out without his thought and Finn almost flinches from his own guilt as Elijah looks at him as if he had hit him.

Even as the words had escaped he thought of far more concerning part.

What would Dahlia do to Elijah if she ever learned about it, the flashes of a bloodied back answered that, it wouldn't have been good and Elijah had risked it.

“You think that poorly of me.” Elijah asks and Finn hears the unspoken question, ‘you think I'm like her?’ “I did,” Elijah snaps before Finn swallow his horror to find words to respond.

Finn morns the little boy who used to tear up in anger and frustration, Elijah was too well trained in his control to let that much slip, “everyone of them will always be with me but you and Freya matter more than anyone else.”

“I’m sorry” he tells him and they don’t speak for the rest of the night, apart from Elijah's last words muttered into the night.

“This was just the first time, we’re going to have to get used to it.”

Elijah was gone the next morning, leaving him a note that he would return here a week before their demanded return.

—-

They still send letters back, separately, giving Freya a glimpse into the world outside.

It’s worth it, she smiles when Elijah and Finn return brighter than she remembered seeing them.

—--

A.N

Elijah is a 25 year old man.

Dahlia, Freya and Finn - that is a baby, a child, a boy.

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday17 #@febuwhump #tvd fanfiction #au- stolen three #fanfiction #the originals au #elijah mikaelson #freya mikaelson #finn mikaelson #dahlia to #the originals #hostage situation

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 1 year ago

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From the Ashes Pt.5

Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader

Warnings: battle, canon character death, Rhaegar POV

Words: 2695

Summary: Rhaegar and Robert Baratheon fight side by side

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 3.5 Part 4 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39

Book Two of Heir of Ash and Fire

Book One of Heir of Ash and Fire

“I’m sorry, Your Grace. . . Your mother has died. . .”

His ears had become numb. White noise was all he heard, sweeping him up just as it did when the news of (y/n) had been brought to him not too long ago. He was forced to lose another important person in his life.

A deep pain made its home in Rhaegar’s chest as he reached out for something to steady him. Jon Connington had been right beside him, catching him by the arm.

Rhaegar closed his eyes, trying to collect himself. It wouldn’t do for his men to see him in this state. “What of the baby?”

The messenger who was holding onto the note that had been delivered by raven, clutches it tightly. “She lives.”

Hope. A small mustard seed of hope, but hope nonetheless. “A girl? I have a sister?”

“Yes. Rhaella named her before she passed from this world. Your sister’s name is Daenerys.”

Letting out a shaky breath, Rhaegar smiled. “Daenerys.”

Jon took it upon himself to ask the next few questions. “Is she still on Dragonstone?”

The messenger nods. “Yes Ser.”

“Does Aerys yet know of the child’s birth?”

That made the young boy paused, looking from the silver haired Rhaegar to the fiery locks of Jon. He lowers his eyes, fearing both of the great men’s gazes. “Yes. . . He has instructed that no one be allowed to dock on Dragonstone and that the young Prince Viserys and Princess Daenerys be kept there until further notice.”

Rhaegar clenches his jaw. “Glad to know my father hasn’t changed a bit. And I bet he didn’t grieve the loss of his wife?”

“That I do not know, Your Grace. It was risky enough sending along the message to you.”

He already knew that Aerys didn’t grieve the death of Rhaella. Neither of them had loved the other. It wouldn’t be such a devastating blow to Aerys as it had been to Rhaegar losing (y/n).

“It’s probably best for them to stay on Dragonstone. Safer. As long as Aerys doesn’t try and bring them to King’s Landing. They should be fine.” Rhaegar whispered more so to himself. No one could hurt his younger siblings there on the remote island. He just regretted that they were by themselves. No mother or father, not even their big brother, there to guide them. They were alone, far from any family.

Dismissing the messenger, Rhaegar sighs and sits down at his small table. Sprawled out across the wood surface was his battle plan. A map of all of Westeros with small pieces made of stone, those that were painted red were symbolic of his father’s army, the small stone dragon pieces that were white were for Rhaegar’s troops. They were scattered all throughout the map, many of the red pieces being clustered near King’s Landing and along the Kingsroad. One positive thing that Aerys actually had going for him was his paranoia. It made him act fast in setting up clusters of troops near King’s Landing and any other major road that led to it which in turn proved to make the march more difficult for Rhaegar and his men. Robert Baratheon wasn’t one to be discouraged as he boasted that he would tear down each and everyone of the men that were sent their way. Oberyn liked the storm lord’s enthusiasm as he was ready for the battles to come. Jon, Rhaegar and Arthur were of a more cautious constitution.

“I’m sorry to hear about Queen Rhaella.” Arthur whispered, taking the opposite seat. “She was a good woman.”

“Good women hardly make it in this world.” Commented Jon who was pouring himself a generous glass of wine.

“It seems like I never have time to mourn.” Rhaegar reclines, staring at the red and white that was on the table. “I’ll weep for her when the war is won. . . Are you sure these were all the troops that were planted along the Kingsroad?”

Swirling the dark liquid around, Jon nods. “According to the Spider. Who knows if we can truly trust him though.”

“We can’t. We just have to gamble that he’s an ally.” Arthur replied, playing with an extra white dragon. His fingers rolled around the tiny details, running along the spine that possessed small bumps and along the wings that were curled in.

Rhaegar heaves out a sigh, betraying how weary he was of this whole war. “We have many questionable people on our side. Oberyn believes that we must take everyone who offers us a hand.”

That made Jon chuckle snidely. “He shouldn’t talk. Accepting a marriage proposal to Cersei Lannister. . .” He shakes his head. “Beyond stupid.”

“He has a point though.” The Sword of the Morning admitted, albeit grudgingly. “The only reason Aerys still has the major lords in his hand is due to everyone fearing him and his madness. There are a great many that believe it was him that. . . that set fire to (y/n)’s room. . .” Even Jon winced at the mention of Rhaegar’s late wife. Even a year after her passing and the wound had not yet healed for their prince. It grew infected and worse by the day as he carried her death with him. They saw the damage it had done from his eyes.

Half lidded eyes look up at his friends, those he would trust with his life. They were frozen, waiting for what Rhaegar’s reaction would be. Truth be told he no longer possessed any energy to cry for her even though when he was alone at night, memories of her would dance in his mind. The feeling of how she felt pressed up against him as they slept together in the safety of his bed. . . He longed for those days.

Wetting his lips, Arthur sets down the map piece and looks away. “I’m sorry, Your Grace. I didn’t mean to bring up something so painful. . .”

He shook his head. “Please don’t apologize. Not to me.” Wanting to change the subject, Rhaegar switches his attention back to the matter at hand. “Knowing my father, he probably has men waiting for our army in the Kingswood. As easy as it would be going through there we can’t risk it. The Kingswood is no place for a full on battle. The forces from King’s Landing will know that place like the back of their hand. We have no choice but to cross through the territories of the Reach.”

“That land is rich with those who are leal to Aerys.” Warned Arthur.

“We’ll have more open space if there’s a battle.” The prince counter argued. “We have a large battalion, thanks to the newly added men from Tywin Lannister and Dornishmen that are itching for the sight of blood. It would be an utter blood bath if we were to go through the Kingswood. The Reach offers a nice open battlefield. And who knows, maybe we could win over some of the smaller lords of the Reach.”

Jon finally settles into a seat. “We can only hope so.”

Shouts and screams from outside make the three men rise from their seats, alert and poised; ready for another battle. Rhaegar, closer to the tent’s exit, pulls back the flap and gazes outside to a multitude of knights hastily putting their armor on and climbing onto their horses. Chaos weaves between tents as Jon and Arthur gaze at their army, a frenzied mess.

One knight spots Rhaegar and immediately dashes toward him. The stag of Baratheon emblazoned on his chest. “Your Grace, it’s an ambush on one of our camps.”

“Has anyone caught sight of our enemies’ sigil?” Arthur is quick to ask before the knight runs off to join the battle. Already there is the clashing of swords in the distance that echoed in the once quiet clearing that they had made their camp in.

He shakes his head before hiking his leg over his horse’s back. The war horse gallops away to the source of battle.

Young Bors is already running toward Rhaegar, cheeks ablaze from running. “I’m sorry, Your Grace. I’m sorry that I’m late.”

“Don’t waste your breath on unnecessary apologies.” Rhaegar retreats back into his tent to get ready for another battle.

The fighting was in his northernmost camp where most of the Dornish army resided. Not taking too long to join the fight, a knight wearing the sigil of House Ashford immediately swung his blade at the Silver Prince who had just dismounted his horse. Rhaegar quickly deflected the blow with his own sword, making it sing along the length of his foes’ steal and making a quick jab to the Ashford knight’s throat. He fell off to the side and in came another to claim the glory of killing the would-be king. This time it was by a knight of House Merryweather. Noble houses of the Reach, loyal to Aerys, must have already gotten word of Rhaegar’s victory at Summerhall and prepared for his move through their rich lands. Those loyal to the Mad King were scared of his army as they should be. Spread the word to his father that he was coming for the throne. Rhaegar posed an actual threat with his own troops and forces. Aerys should not take him lightly.

Amidst the battle, Rhaegar caught sight of Robert’s horned helm as he was slaughtering foes left to right with such force that Rhaegar would have mistaken him for the Warrior himself. The young Baratheon bull fought with such force and fury that it was almost terrifying. Rhaegar would not want to be the one fighting against him in combat. There was something off though in Robert’s movement. Despite him seemingly slaying the enemy with ease, he was staggering. Reach knights noticed this as well and took advantage as they swarmed in on him like a bunch of ravenous locusts. Even for Robert, it was too much for him as he was starting to drown among them. Ned was deep in his own fight as was his brother; leaving Robert completely to his own.

Gritting his teeth, Rhaegar made the journey over to the young Baratheon lord to help him. Many got in the way, each one cut down by Rhaegar’s sword. Suns, direwolves, dragons, and stags alike blurred with the banners of the opposition as the frenzied dance continued all around him. This wasn’t like Summerhall which had been an easy victory. It was complete madness. Troops of the Reach were dwindling though, unable to withstand the might of Rhaegar’s army.

Robert met Rhaegar’s gaze, blue against lavender, as Rhaegar hacked away at the throng that had clustered around Robert. The two men fought back to back, defending one another as they thinned out those of House Merryweather and Ashford. Someone knocked off Rhaegar’s helm; who, he could not say as he wasn’t paying attention to sigils anymore. Both men were focused on keeping the other alive.

Before Rhaegar could react, a knight came swinging at his face. As Rhaegar was engaged in another sword fight, he was unable to block the attack. . . * “Your hair is so pretty.” (y/n) chirps happily from behind him. Rhaegar could only chuckle as he sat patiently as the young Lannister girl braided his hair. He looked out across the water that surrounded Dragonstone. A lovely day as a nice breeze makes the grass sway gently against them. Rhaegar’s harp sat across his legs, forgotten as he continued to smile at (y/n) braiding his hair. Little fingers that were clumsy at the harp were working so diligently at braiding his hair.

“Aaaand done!” She proclaims proudly, scooching away from Rhaegar to let him assess her work.

He moves his hand behind his head to feel several thick braids meticulously weaved into his hair. “That’s incredible.” And he meant it. “Where did you learn to do that?”

(y/n) moves back so that she’s facing him. Her own pale blonde hair was pulled back into braids. A pinkish-red ribbon finished off the end of her hair. “Thalina taught me. I used to practice on her hair before Viserys stuck molasses into it. Honestly she looks better with short hair though.”

That made Rhaegar frown. So young and his little brother was already acting up. A few months ago, Rhaella had came for a visit and brought Viserys with her as he was still needing his mother. He wreaked havoc on Dragonstone, as Rhaegar read from letters that (y/n) had sent him. A ‘cute little terror’ as (y/n) had called him. Already becoming entitled, Viserys had not let any of the maesters or septas have any peace when he was there. Especially (y/n). Even though she was older and held authority, Viserys walked all over her and treated her like any other house servant. He pulled her hair, broke her belongings, threw her jewelry into the sea and even set fire to a beautiful doll that Rhaegar had gotten her for her name day. He was surprised that all (y/n) had to say about Viserys was that he was a ‘troublesome child’. Any other girl of her status would have been furious and thrown a tantrum. Not gentle hearted (y/n). She took everything in stride, reminding everyone that he was just a child and didn’t know any better. The truth was that Viserys was being spoiled by their father. Aerys was already putting ideas of entitlement into the little prince’s mind; that everything belonged to him and no one could say no to him. Rhaella could do nothing about it as Aerys always had the last word in how his children were raised.

Rhaegar watches (y/n) as she goes on to make a crown composed of the small white flowers that were strewn all over the hill. She hummed to herself happily as she did so. There was such an improvement in her demeanor that Rhaegar couldn’t help the warmth that permeated in his chest.

“Are you happy here, (y/n)?”

She turns up her soft, green eyes. “Very much! I like to play in the room where the big table is. You can see all the mountains and rivers. It helps me when the maester teaches me geography.”

“Good. I’m glad.” * Rhaegar held up the hand mirror to examine his face.

“Can you still see out of your right eye?” Jon fretted behind him.

“Truth be told, I can’t see anything. My vision is all foggy.”

Robert, mending from his own wounds, gives out a hearty chuckle. “That’s what milk of the poppy will do to you.”

Even though he couldn’t see much, Rhaegar could still make out the vicious red line that went diagonally across his face. Pieces of his silver hair had been slashed off, making the maester cut off his long hair. Apparently it wouldn’t do to have the future king with a shabby haircut. Rhaegar thought it the least of his worries as he tried to force his vision to clear.

In a more serious tone, Robert continues. “You saved my life. I’m in your debt now.”

Gingerly, Rhaegar prodes at his face. It stung only a little bit, the milk of the poppy doing it’s job in numbing the pain. A scar, it would leave a nasty scar. He remembered (y/n)’s scars that were on her back. Long and jagged, now they matched. Rhaegar could still remember running his lips and tongue over her scars, how she would twitch as his motions tickled her slightly. A giggle would escape her and he would do it again out of playfulness instead of lust. There was no sound sweeter in the world than that of (y/n)’s uncontrollable giggles.

He set down the mirror and turned his attention to Robert. “Consider the debt repaid once I have my throne.”

He wouldn’t play games with his father anymore. Aerys had done too much damage. Killing (y/n) and continuously harming the gentle Rhaella. . .

Gone was the boy who loved to play his harp to delight his little fiancee.

Rhaegar would go after him with fire and blood.

#reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #Game of Thrones fandom #A Song of Ice and Fire #a song of ice and fire fanfiction #a song of ice and fire fanfic #A Song of Ice and Fire fandom #ASoIaF #asoiaf fandom #asoiaf fanfiction #asoiaf fanfic

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thaliaisalesbian · 4 months ago

Text

i get myself twisted in threads

Chapter 30: and i tell you the truth

Chapters: 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 31

“Are you getting your test results back today?” Steve’s not on his crutches today, though Nancy knows that Jonathan has them in his car in case Steve wants or needs them.

“Yeah. I’m hoping I passed.”

“You did fine.” Jonathan says. He wraps his arm around Nancy’s waist, then has to abort the motion of his other arm.

It’s hard to watch him and Steve whenever they remember that they can’t be too close in public. They’d all gotten so comfortable with it. At least if Steve puts an arm around her shoulders, it’s not too weird. No weirder than the three of them eating lunch together every day, and Eddie Munson talking to Steve sometimes. People have gotten used to it now.

“And you’re feeling better today?”

“A lot better. Will made sure I didn’t move too much, he decided he needed to use me as a subject for his art very suddenly.”

“That worked?” Nancy peeks up at Jonathan for confirmation.

“Will can be very convincing.” Jonathan nods. “And Mom’s threats helped too, I think.”

“And my head’s fine, too.” He’s still got the sunglasses on, but Nancy decides not to point that out. They don’t need to have a fight this early in the morning.

“Ready for your first full week back?”

“Kind of have to be. Hargrove didn’t bother me last week, hoping that stays the same.”

“Hopefully.” Nancy agrees. What are they going to do if he does, though? Nancy can’t think of any classes she has with both of them, and she doesn’t think Jonathan has any, either.

“Hey, don’t get that look on your face, I can handle him. I’ll see you both at lunch, okay? And I’ll have news about my tests.”

“See you then.”

“He’ll be fine, Nance.” Jonathan squeezes her side. “I doubt Hargrove will try anything with teachers around. And Steve can handle himself. He’s recovered enough that he’ll be able to hold his own.”

“I wish he had his crutches.”

“Why?”

“So that he could whack Hargrove with them if he needs to.” She’s being mostly serious about it, but Jonathan chuckles.

“He could, yeah. That’d be funny to watch. Not today, though.”

No. Not today.

Not ever would be the best option, but with their luck, that’s not going to happen.

finish on ao3 or continue reading

Nancy’s school day remains uneventful; she’s even able to get some of her homework done in class.

She’s not one who’s usually bored in class, but today that seems to be the case. It feels like they’ve gone over everything before.

“Miss Wheeler, you’re typically much more active in class, feeling a little under the weather today?”

That might be part of it. But she doesn’t have a headache or a stuffy nose or anything.

“I think I read further ahead than I realized over the weekend.” She explains. “I got the chance when my little sister was napping.”

“That works too.” Now the rest of the class’s eyes are on her, even though they’d been dismissed for lunch already.

God, she hates being stared at like this, even if it’s because she actually does her work and even enjoys it at times.

“Hey, Nance.” Steve’s still got his sunglasses on. “How was class?”

“Boring. I read too far ahead.”

“Wait, you mean to tell me that even Nancy Wheeler has a line that’s ‘too far’ when it comes to studying?”

“Yes, Steve.” She rolls her eyes as he keeps teasing her. “What did Mundy say?”

“I passed them both. I got an A on the first one, so my grade for last semester is an A! And the other one that was just supposed to see how far I’d gotten in this semester’s material, I got a B minus on. He said he would have expected a little over half from anyone, but not that high.”

“So you’re ahead in his class, then?”

“Yeah. He’s still waiting to hear about those classes for next year.”

“What about your other teachers?”

“They all seem to think I should have just skipped the rest of the year.” Nancy would have. She doesn’t think she could have caught up at this point, and especially not in math the way Steve has. Her math grades are low As, but only because she spends so much time on it. Reading and writing in her other classes comes so much more easily to her.

“Well, you’re here, and you’re going to make the best of it.”

“I am.” Steve agrees. Jonathan sits down, finally, and they recap what they’d just been talking about for him.

“So you’re both doing better than me, is what I’m hearing.” He jokes. “I’ve got work after school today, Steve, I forgot to mention it this morning.”

“That’s okay, I can walk. I’ve done it before.”

“Or you could drop me off and take my car back to yours?”

“That too, I guess.” Steve shrugs, like it doesn’t really matter to him. “But why?”

“So you’re not walking alone?”

“Hargrove hasn’t bothered me at all.”

“That might change when you're not surrounded by people, Steve.” Nancy says softly, not wanting anyone to overhear. Given that Munson and his group haven’t moved back to their usual table yet, it’s probably a moot point. She doesn’t know why they’re still there, but Hargrove’s not about to risk messing with the school dealer, so it works out for them. He hasn’t ‘stopped by’ their lunch table since they’d moved.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“I wish I had a car.” Nancy says. “Then I could help out.”

“Wait, we didn’t pick you up this morning, you and Mike biked to school today, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I could just go back with you.”

“What? Steve, weren’t you pretty sure that my mom hates you?” And she doesn’t want to give her room to say anything else. She should probably tell Steve and Jonathan about that, but she really doesn’t want anyone else knowing about it.

“She didn’t like me because I was dating her innocent daughter and ‘corrupting’ her. Outside of that, she seemed pretty okay with me, if only because Holly likes me and I could calm her down.”

“You weren’t corrupting me.”

“I was your first boyfriend, of course she wasn’t gonna like me, Nance. Especially with my reputation.”

“Is that what you want to do, Steve? Go back with Nancy and Mike?” Jonathan looks between them.

“If she doesn’t mind. It’ll be fun to bother Mike again, anyway.”

“So you’re setting yourself up to get bullied by my little brother?”

“Ah, he can’t bully me. I have become immune to Mike Wheeler’s bullying.”

“Sure, Steve.”

“Why are you laughing? It’s the truth.”

“Steve, there are times when I’m not immune to Mike’s bullying, and I live with him.”

“Then just become immune.” Steve says. He laughs a little, before he stops and reaches for his bag. He pulls out a little bottle of pills, downing a few. “Sorry, laughing just hurt my face a little.”

Still? It’s been a week. Nancy doesn’t know if that’s normal or not. And what dose is he taking? Just the over-the-counter pills? Or something stronger? She knows Owens and Irene gave him stronger pain meds for days when it got bad, but he probably shouldn’t be taking those at school.

They probably should have just called Owens. Or taken Steve to a hospital, or something. She knows why Jonathan didn’t—it would have raised so many questions, and probably meant that Steve’s parents would come back to town.

They should have done it anyway.

But it’s too late for that now. Steve’s too stubborn to go, especially when he can move on his own.

Jonathan jumps in quickly to fill the gap she and Steve have left in the conversation, but that moment lingers over their table for the rest of lunch.

It follows Nancy for the rest of the day, too.

Mike is pretty tame on the way back to Nancy’s.

“Why can’t Steve just share your bike, Nancy? We’d be home already!”

“It’s not safe, Mike.”

“Why not? We do it all the time! The Party shares bikes when we have a need.” He sounds so indignant about it that it’s hard not to laugh.

“It would overbalance.” Steve tells him. “I know I’ve lost weight, but I’m still a lot bigger than Nancy. You guys are pretty much all the same size still, so it works out alright.”

“Then Nancy and I can share and you can take my bike!”

“Your bike is too small for him.” Nancy looks like she’s about to smack Mike. “And I can’t balance on yours.”

“Ugh! Why are you both so boring? You won’t even try it!”

“Sorry that we don’t want anyone to end up with a busted arm because we tried to fit all of us on two bikes.” Steve says, dryly. It takes Mike a minute to pick up on it.

“You’re so fucking annoying, Steve.” Mike stomps his foot on the ground. “Why’d you want to come home with us, anyway?”

He misses Nancy, mostly. Sure, he sees her almost every day, but not the extent that he sees Jonathan. He wants to spend some time alone with her.

Even if that means dealing with her bratty little brother.

“Haven’t annoyed you enough recently, shithead. Had to get my fill in.”

“Shut up!”

That gets Nancy to break, finally, she’s giggling a little.

“You shut up too, Nancy! You’re both so annoying! And weird!”

“You know you could go ahead of us, Mike.” Nancy says, surprisingly straight-faced. “It’s not like you had to stick around, if we bug you that much.”

Mike just stomps his foot again.

He’s a little old for it, probably, but Steve’s not his parent and it’s funny to watch him get so worked up.

“Whatever. I’m going to go and turn Holly against you.” Mike really does go ahead of them, but since he’s ‘discreetly’ checking that he’s still in their sightlines every few minutes, it doesn’t matter much.

“He’s a riot.” Steve says. “A bratty one, sure. I don’t remember it being this easy to rile him up though.”

“Oh, that’s not even half of it.” Nancy says. “Even Dad’s said something about his behavior lately.”

“Shit, really?”

“Yeah. He won’t talk to me about anything, though, so I don’t know what’s bothering him.”

“You could just barge into his room and demand he talks, the way he does to you.”

“That’d be funny, but I don’t think it would work.” As expected, despite whatever Mike’s been telling her for the three minutes he’s had alone with her, Holly rushes Steve when she sees him.

He doesn’t actually know why she likes him so much.

“Mom left when I got home.” Mike says, as Holly pulls Steve over to the couch. “Shopping or something.

“Mine.” Holly ‘shoves’ him down and climbs into his lap.

“You can’t have Steve, Holly.” Nancy laughs. “He’s not one of your dolls.”

“Yes.”

“Holly, no! We just talked about this!” Mike doesn’t go so far as to grab Holly and pull her off of his lap, but he looks like he wants to.

“No.”

“Holly, would you get up if I made you cookies?” He has homework that he should probably do instead, but it’s not like he’s going to get it done if Holly is sitting on him—at least this way he has a distraction.

“Yes. Cookies, please..”

“Okay, then let’s make cookies.”

“How come you’ll make cookies for Holly but not for me?” Mike glares at him.

“Well, Mike, Holly said ‘please’, for one. And you haven’t even asked me, you sent Will to do it for you.”

“Whatever. I’ll just go do my homework then.”

“You can help if you want. You’ll probably be better at it than Nancy.”

“Steve, don’t you dare bring that up.” She takes Holly from him—he probably shouldn’t be carrying her around, as much as she likes it—and sets her in her chair.

“What, with her salty cookies? Mom was so mad.”

Mike drops the attitude while they’re baking, at least. He really is much better at than Nancy is, though he sneaks the most dough.

“Get your homework, Mike, you can do it while they’re baking. If you finish all your homework this week, Mom might let you have a sleepover.”

“You’re bribing him for your mom now?”

“It keeps him busy.” Nancy kisses him; it’s not like Holly’s paying any attention to them, anyway, too distracted by the flour they probably shouldn’t be letting her play in. “We should do our homework, too.”

“Yeah, probably.” He’s still got a lot; none of his other teachers have offered him tests or anything to see what he knows. It’d be nice if they did, maybe then he’d be able to get out of some of his work.

“How long is your mom going to be out, do you think?”

“No idea.”

“Hey, where’s your homework?” Mike’s back to glaring at them, but hey, the good mood couldn’t last forever. Given how he tends to act around Steve, he’s surprised it lasted this long.

“We’re getting to it, buddy.” Steve says, just to annoy him a little more.

“Don’t call me that!”

“Sure, dude.”

“This is why I don’t like you.”

“No it’s not.” They don’t keep it up for long. Honestly, having grown up with Nancy and Mike as siblings, Steve thinks that Holly’s teenage years are going to be incredibly fun for him to witness.

Hopefully Jonathan and Nancy won’t get tired of him before then.

<- 29 31 ->

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polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup · 1 year ago

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don't wait for tumblr to give u more tags. go off about tony and steve and zola pls i am humbly requesting

As a part of my ongoing war on my ask box this is a very old post regarding a tumblr tag essay i made forever ago. i half answered this ask when it came in and then forgot to finish. without further ado:

Anon is talking about this post about Steve and Tony’s relationship. I HIGHLY recommend the original post it's great but i copied the original tags essay below since it's been so long since the ask arrived.

#I feel like anyone who writes Tony stark for marvel should have to go watch bojack horseman first as like a mandatory assignment#because that show understood the premise of Tony stark better than any MCU writer ever has and it wasn’t even writing for tony stark#in sum bojack horseman follows the titular bojack who is a washed up 90s sitcom television star#bojack himself is extremely self destructive and the show follows him as his selfish and egotistical tendencies erode at his relationships#However bojack himself is an extremely sympathetic character. his harmful acts are all tied very directly to the trauma of his life#he’s a survivor of generational abuse whose own substance abuse problems stem from the fact that he was in such a neglectful environment#that he had started drinking at an INCREDIBLY young age got himself sober only to relapse due to a spiked drink after fame

#this sympathic is increased by the fact that he does geninuinely love and care for his friends and often goes to extreme lengths to show it#but what the show understands that MCU writers dont is that his tragic past doesn’t excuse the harm or pain he causes and the show goes to#LABORIOUS extents to emphasize the consequences and suffering his actions cause in his attempt towards making amends#it is FASINCATING to me that MCU just fails to grasp this because it’s really the core of Tony’s character. his story is one of redemption#and regret. but what it never seemed to get is that requires recognition of wrongs and change and his relationship with steve is a prime ex.#when they meet tony is 40+ and Steve is 23-25. steve has been awake from world war 2 for less than 2 weeks everyone he loves is dead and hes#visibly haunted by his time in the ice. his ptsd flashbacks to crashing the plane is how his character is introduced. Tony spends the time

#calling him ‘capsicle’ and talking about how much he can’t stand steve. the narrative plays it off as a gaff of little consequence but#practically speaking that’s INSANE. like can you imagine you’re a traumatized war vet who got out of a coma 2 months ago and woke up to#discover everyone you ever loved is dead and this stranger twice your age at your new work nicknames you coma boy and hates your guts bc of#his daddy issues? like Tony in avengers is borderline cruel but the narrative and the fandom never acknowledge it. it’s like removing the#laugh track on a scene from one of those old sitcoms and realizing how mean it is. and while we can fully acknowledge that Howard hurt Tony#that doesn’t make it Steve’s fault and doesn’t give Tony the license to take it out on him. like at the end of the day your healing is your#responsibility and the MCU fails to grasp that with Tony. honestly it does a disservice to the depth of his character b/c Tony should have#already grown past this by the time of Avengers. he had already gone through iron man 2 and grappled somewhat with his relationship w howard#while that doesn’t mean he’s healed yet it does mean that his character needs to learn to grow past it or he risks stagnation. mcu just#happily embraced stagnation and it made the character worse for it. Theres a scene in the comics where Tony is the first to reach out to#Steve post ice. he takes him to the air&space museum and welcomes him to the future. THATS the growth we want. Bc fundamentally even if we

#sympathize for Tony’s abuse by Howard lashing out at someone who was functionally dead at the time of ur dads mistakes is a very juvenile#mindset. /growth/ is deciding to be better than the person who hurt you and the MCUs obsession with blaming Steve for howard cut that off#CW would have been SO MUCH MORE COMPELLING if Tony had formed a relationship with Steve bc Steve would be torn between past and present but#instead Tony is saying how much he hated Steve during the fucking movie and Steve’s taking it with grace. like you’re 50 man you gotta work#past this at some point. out of tags but I have Opinions about Tony and actually zola too but we won’t get there give me more tags tumblr

Fundamentally, my issue with Tony and how he's written for the MCU is that he has the potential for one of greatest redemption arcs ever and the writers are fucking allergic to giving it to him, and his dynamic with Steve is a a prime example of it. How poorly Steve's relationship with Tony was mishandled is a pretty perfect case study as to how Tony as a character was mishandled as a whole.

As stated in the Tumblr Tags Essay above, by the time Steve came on the scene, Tony should have already grown past his hate for Steve. To be clear, that is not saying he should have gotten over Howard or any harm that he suffered as a result of his. Howard was his parent who was, to some degree, at least emotionally neglectful, if not abusive. Healing and learning helping coping mechanisms does not demand you forgive your abuser.

But Steve was never his abuser. He's a 20-something year old guy who has been trapped in a block of ice for Tony's entire life and who woke up two weeks ago to find out that everyone he ever loved is dead or suffering from alzheimer's and that his sacrifice was for nothing because he was just told the thing he drove a fucking plane into the fucking arctic over is Back Again Because We Learned Nothing.

And the thing is that the realization that "This man can hold literally no complicity in my abuser because he was frozen in the Arctic Circle the entire time" requires a level of emotional maturity you generally achieve at the age of thirteen or so. Tony is fucking fifty. Mentally, he's over twice Steve's age. At absolute best, the way Tony treats Steve from the outset is immature and more accurately it's downright cruel. Voluntarily killing himself by driving a plane into ice only to wake up and discover that he has lost everyone he ever loved is undoubtedly one of the most traumatic things that has ever happened to steve, and he just woke up from it. He is two weeks out from this. He's actively having flashbacks of what happened right before Tony starts cracking jokes about it. It'd be like if Steve walked up to Tony right after he got back from Afghanistan and called him Waterboarding Boy and everyone treated it like it was a cutesy character trait.

That's one of the most egregious parts of how Tony's character is written--things that are objectively things that need to be addressed in his character arc area treated like acceptable and borderline justified quirks in his personality. Tony's relationship with his father is one of the cornerstones of his backstory and who he became. While he doesn't have to forgive his father on the road to recovery, he does have to realize when he's using it as an excuse to hurt others and stop it.

That's also something he never does, and one of the reasons why i think that the writers for him need to watch Bojack horseman. In the same movie he's claiming to that he was Steve's friend, he's still saying to his face how much he fucking hated him over things that happened when Steve was supposed to have martyred himself to save the world.

There's multiple parts of Tony's character that could have formed the basis of an amazing character arc if he grew and improved from them, but the narrative refused to even recognize them as problems, let alone have him overcome them, and his relationship with Steve is a perfect example of it. The writer's refusal to recognize that brings down the quality of his entire arc and cheapens him as a character.

If Tony had been allowed to recognize that Steve was not to blame for his father, accepted it, and given a man half his age who just lost everything a lifeline, that would have shown an amazing amount of growth. Instead, they left him as immature and cruel. It's a shame and an insult to the potential of his character, and it's a mistake that they repeat again and again. Tony was supposed to be completely against developing weapons for others, but he canonically helped build a major part of Project Insight. Tony's entire stance in Civil War was meant to show that he had accepted that he made mistakes and that he needed to be held accountable for his actions, but then he went and unilaterally built EDITH, whose existence violates multiple international treaties including the Accords and had so few safety precautions that a teenaged boy was able to accidentally call out a missile strike on his teenaged classmate. He's in a movie where he's driven by his guilt for causing the death of someone's college-aged son, and in that same movie he blackmails a high-school-aged boy to join in on a fight he knows nothing about, that goes directly against his interests, and could get him killed even if he was certain that Team Cap wouldn't use lethal force. Rhodey got paralyzed from the waist down from friendly fire. Tony had a moment in the same fight where he had reason to fear that Peter had been injured if not killed.

Ultimately, Tony's entire character is built on a foundation of repentance and growth. That's why he has so much potential and why he's so compelling. The fact that his writers were unable to recognize when he even needed to repent, let alone allow him to grow, was honestly insulting to what he could have been.

Zola:

The reference to Zola is actually more of a response to fandom’s response to Zola as a whole than the actual specific person who made the comment.

Overall, the majority of fandom response that I've seen just seemed to be sort of besides the point? The thing about Armin Zola working for SHIELD is that I personally have only seen discussion about this in context of talking about how Peggy and Howard are Bad or talking about how steve would feel betrayed when he discovered it. To be honest most of the discourse I’ve seen has just been about hating Peggy Carter and using this as a sledgehammer in that discussion.

It’s not that I disagree with that reading of it—like, I do think Steve felt betrayed by the realization that Zola was recruited in the end, and I think it’s bad to have recruited literal Nazis—but I do think that fandom elevated the most tangential point of it to the detriment of its entire narrative purpose. I've only ever personally seen it used in character discourse and shipping wars--which like, anyone can draw on any plot point they so choose while participating in fandom. But Zola's recruitment was the thematic core of Winter Soldier, and it always seemed kinda weird to me that it was treated as a personal defect in Howard and Peggy when it was the entire argument of the movie and one of the best social commentaries that the MCU ever made.

Zola gives what I think is one of the better MCU villain speeches in the bunker about how Hydra recovered after the war. He states that they realized that taking the freedom of the world by force only galvanised people against them. It led to their own downfall. But he explains that Hydra realized that the people of the world would freely give away their own rights and freedoms if you made them comfortable. If you say you’re doing it for their own safety and comfort, then they’ll effectively look the other way while Hydra seizes control of the world. And that entire monologue is bolstered by the fact that that is exactly what happened in Zola’s case.

Zola was brought into SHIELD as a part of operation paperclip. Operation Paperclip was a post-war initiative by the United States government to recruit key Nazi scientists into United States scientific development. This entire initiative was brought about in response to the Cold War arm’s race and it was justified on the basis of dire national security need. Both America and the Soviet Union were EXTREMELY CONCERNED about losing the cold war. As a result, they were willing to take pretty much any strategic advantage they could, including After, President Truman, who gave the final go-ahead for the initiative, said that "this had to be done and was done."

Even after it became public knowledge, it was defended as more of a necessary evil and the cost of the practicalities of governance than a world power welcoming war criminals with open arms. Multiple participants have been linked to human experimentation, slave labor factories, etc, though none were ever formally found guilty of anything--which may be because the US aggressively whitewashed their pasts and then went so far as to help relocate one of the members of the initiative to Argentina.

This was, again, all a part of the Cold War arms race with the USSR--who had an identical program going at the same time, Operation Osoaviakhim.

En arguendo, let's just assume that all of this was done with the best possible intentions and execution. The nominal rationale was the Cold War. While analyzing the Red Scare and the entire Cold War period would take way too long, I think a solid premise we can agree on is that nuclear war is bad. It would have been disastrous for anyone alive if the Cold War had escalated, and recruiting top scientists from the Nazi regime 1) kept the USSR from doing it instead, which they were actively doing, and 2) helped prevent strategic advantage in one country or another that may have led to an escalation. Now, I'm not a historian, and all of these premises can naturally be debated, but these were the like, best faith premises that world leaders had at the time. If you want a nuclear deterrent, you need the biggest stick.

The thing is that, if you assume these premises as genuine for the sake of the argument, the absolute best this leaves you with is doing a very bad thing for a very important government purpose. You're supposedly preventing nuclear war, but you're doing so at the cost of justice for all the people who suffered at the hands of these people, and the risk of future harm that they may cause.

Which, thematically, is the core of the Winter Soldier.

I've usually seen Zola's recruitment discussed in terms of Peggy or Howard making the decision to let him in, when in reality, they probably didn't make the call themselves so much as become complicit in it later. Zola was captured and recruited right at the end of CA:FA (he later clocks this at 1945) but Peggy and Howard didn't even have an organization at that point, let alone the power to recruit a head Nazi scientist. This was two decades before SHIELD was ever founded, and if we take the Agent Carter series as binding canon, at the time of Zola's transition into American government would, Peggy had so little sway that she couldn't even get anyone to listen to her, let alone recruit a nazi scientist, and Howard was potentially on the run and definitely not involved in any formal governmental decision making. Even if you assume that they were somehow in charge of a government agency at the time of Zola's recruitment, the actual recruitment and function of Operation Paperclip was conducted by independent agencies (Joint Intelligence Objectives Agency and the Counterintelligence Corps) that Peggy and Howard weren't a part of, and the person who made the call for Operation Paperclip itself was The Literal President Of The United States. Whatever way you cut it, Peggy and Howard probably had nothing to do with Zola's initial recruitment--what most likely happened was that two decades passed (the time between Zola's recruitment and SHIELD's founding) and when resources were being allocated some big-shot in the overseeing body was like Yeah You Do Weird Stuff? We Got A Guy Who's Been Doing Weird Stuff For Us For Like Twenty Years and then when Peggy and Howard saw him they were like Oh Its This Motherfucker.

To be clear, this is not at all to absolve howard and peggy for working with a guy they knew did literal human experimentation because he did it on one of their best friends. But this is to more clearly reframe it from Decision They Personally Made to The Ways Being At A Certain Level Of Government Makes You Complicit With Horrible Things, which perfectly encapsulates the heart of the movie.

At the open of the movie, Steve is visibly on a fucking ledge with SHIELD. Fuck, Fury and Nat spend most of the opening trying to keep him from flying the coop. And it's because Steve for the very first time has to grapple with the consequences of being an active participant in a governmental body.

Straight up--Steve spent the entire war going AWOL. His entire military career was spent doing what he wanted and flipping his superior officers the bird. The man was a terrible fucking soldier but by the time anyone figured it out they had already given him a comic book and the Medal of Honor and the man could bench press a tank it was simply too late. Then, he got encased in ice for 70 years, woke up, had two weeks of fun future integration activities like Not Getting Therapy For His Problems and Looking At Pictures Of His Dead Friends, got tapped in because they fucked up with the exact thing he lost everything to stop, immediately went AWOL again, almost died again, went on a roadtrip of self discovery, and at some point between then and CAWS started working as one of the main STRIKE members of SHIELD. This is likely his first time having to ever deal with the realities of being a hand of the government.

One of the most insidious things about high-level government work is there's rarely some Main Guy sitting behind a desk signing Evil Decrees and responsible for everything. Power is allocated and things get messy very quickly.

Take Ghost for example. One of SHIELD'S Main Guys falls out with another Guy, smears his name, which makes the Ex-Guy so desperate that he takes unnecessary risks in his experiments that predictably blow up in his face and leads to his young daughter having a debilitating power that results in her uncontrollably phasing through objects. Another Guy tries to do the right thing and help her, but Other Main Guys think "This kid would make a GREAT assassin" and leverage a cure for her debilitating health condition into turning her into a forced operative. This health condition starts to kill her, but the Main Guys were so happy with their new forced assassin that they never looked for a cure to begin with and was going to use her until she died. She goes rather reasonably goes AWOL, and in her attempts to cure herself, she's willing to do just about anything to get cured, and including contemplating kidnapping Scott's daughter as an option.

Steve obviously wasn't called in to help with that (he was AWOL himself at that point) but assume he was--he would only get pulled into this mess at the very end when all the damage is done and there's a highly unstable assassin kidnapping little girls. SHIELD was at fault for every horrible thing that happened to this person. He has a strong sense of justice, and he'd likely to be furious to find out that SHIELD took an orphanged child and abused their incredibly painful and terminal medical condition, which was indirectly caused by them, in order to force them into becoming a highly skilled operative.

But there isn't just one person that he'd be able to find and blame for what happened with this--culpability was stretched out over Multiple Main Guys who made bad decisions, a lot of Lower Guys who built the suit, trained her, handled her in the field, and experimented on her to learn her limits, many of whom likely didn't even work for the organization any more.

Who do you go after for that? The Main Guy who smeared her dad? But he didn't have anything to do with the assassin business or the actual accident. The Main Guys who made the calls for the assassination thing? Better candidates, but is it that simple? What about the guys who just get orders every day and have no decision making authority, who were handed a little girl who was vulnerable and in pain and told to train her to kill? What about the ones making a child-sized tactical suit with no details about what was going on but who had reason enough to suspect it wasn't all good? They were just following orders, but so were Nazis working the camps.

How do you go after people for that? Fire them? It's been decades. Most are probably retired. And that's a pretty lame punishment for what they did. He doesn't make the calls for legal action, they definitely have qualified immunity for their decisions, and there's a whole host of problems with proving anything.

But, on the flip side, what does he do about Ghost? what happened to her is terrible, but if she had kidnapped Cassie Lang, he couldn't exactly sit on his hands and let it happen no matter the justification. There's a very good chance he has to stop her and become another link in a chain of what's been a lifetime of abuse. Things get messy when you're just a cog in the machine of a sprawling agency that has a lot of power to abuse.

While we don't know what Steve's been doing while he worked for SHIELD, we do know that it pissed him off to high heavens. The very first thing we see him doing for SHIELD is recapturing the off-course Lemurian Star from pirates, and he is the exact opposite of a dutiful soldier during it. He doesn't just salute and follow his orders without question--one of the first lines of his mouth is calling them out for lying about the ship being in those waters because it was off-course. He's like "Oh, so it's not off course, it's trespassing" to which Nat says "I'm sure they had a good reason" and Steve replies "I'm getting a little tired of being Fury's janitor."

He's saving the hostages, and then all of a sudden he finds Natasha in the control room downloading the drive and realizes that this was about SHIELD's data to begin with but no one clued him in on that fact. He's pissed because the hostages could have died, which is a fact he immediately goes after Fury about.

There is so much character jammed into those few minutes of screen time. This is visibly an old argument--at one point, Fury says to him "It's damn near getting past time for you to get with the program, Cap" to which Steve tells him not to hold his breath. Steve doesn't like or approve of a lot of SHIELD's actions, but he's called in after all the bad things they did went to shit. Like, what's he going to do--say, sorry, the Lemurian Star was obviously Up To Some Shit that I don't want to be a part of, RIP to the hostages but I'm just going to let them get shot in the head? He's the janitor and he's sick of getting called into SHIELD fucking something up through their own immoral actions and calling him to pull their ass out of the fire. He spends the entire first half of the movie on the verge of flying the coop entirely, and Nat and Fury visibly know it and are trying to get him off the ledge in every interaction they have on screen with him--which directly contributes to the fact that Steve doesn't trust either of them for the first half of the movie.

It also is likely the motivator behind why he does ultimately trust Sam. Steve spends the first half of the movie getting Managed. He's increasingly pissed and distrustful of SHIELD and its agents, and he's got good reason to be--Nat and Fury hide things from him and keep trying to persuade him to stick with the program (to be clear Nat's (and to a somewhat lesser extent Fury's) own actions and whether any culpability for things like project insight could possibly be imputed to her has to be analyzed under an entirely different lens due to the difference in her personal history and character type, but this is already way too long to tackle that here. this isn't actually meant to assign blame to her, but more to analyze the likely results on steve). Fury takes him for a tour of his Fascist Death Machine and tells him that's what the world needs. The neighbor he was growing increasingly intimate with was a SHIELD agent who lied to him about her name and the fact that she was spying on him. At the end of the day, the majority of the of the early movie is spent with his desires and principles are treated as secondary and unwanted complications to the fact that they really need him to keep throwing that shield on SHIELD's behalf (whether this is actually what nat and fury specifically are trying to do is, again, a separate analysis we don't have time for, this is just to go to how it likely affects and appears to Steve).

Sam, meanwhile, is beautiful and charming is the only one who openly expresses a genuine concern for Steve as a person and not steve as a solider. Sam spends the entire first half of the movie reaching out to someone in a position he's been in himself and trying to get him help. his entire first meeting with Steve is defined by him trying to help a fellow Vet recover from war. he tries to gauge where Steve's at with the future, invites him to the VA, and packages it in a easily-seen-through excuse that gives them both plausible deniability--Steve can come by and get the help he needs not as Captain America The Man The Myth The Legend Who Is Really Fucking Struggling, but as Steve the guy helping Sam impress the girl at the front desk.

When he comes to the VA, Sam has the direct opposite response that everyone else in the movie has to Steve questioning his place in SHIELD and in government work--he's like "Quit. Quit now. Be free and beautiful like me. become an ultimate fighter or whatever the fuck you want." He doesn't give two shits about what the world will do without Captain America keeping it safe--he just cares about what Steve needs.

This all goes to a greater analysis about how Sam is beautiful and charming the perfect parallel to Steve, the only one who could possibly have taken up his shield, and actually wrong in that line he says about how he does what Steve does but slower because he consistently decides to do the right thing before Steve is another analysis that would go too far off the point to get into. The point being is that Sam exists in the narrative as the direct opposite and alternative to the reality fury and nat offers Steve. Steve spends the beginning of the movie with Nat and Fury seemingly sacrificing the means for the end, but there's Sam, beautiful and charming someone who made the same decision he's now faced with, being like "fuck it. sometimes you have to walk."

Steve's entire struggle about his position with SHIELD reaches its climax when he first finds out the truth of Project Insight.

For the avoidance of any doubt, SHIELD secretly being infiltrated by HYDRA has no effect on how wrong Project Insight was from the start--it just emphasized how horrifically wrong it could go. But "Space Super Death Weapon That Can Immediately Kill Dangers To National Security" is a bad idea no matter who is in charge of it. First off, Steve is right--punishment follows the crime. No government has a crystal fucking ball and anyone who justifies things on the basis of "taking out threats ahead of time" is talking out their ass. to be clear, i'm not saying you need to wait for someone to be on a plane and flying at the twin towers to stop a terrorist attack--in law, we have a designated level of "closeness" that lets us say "yeah you were totally actually doing what we don't want you doing" at which point you can charge them with attempt, and often a lot of the earlier steps leading up to the Big Harmful Thing are actual crimes you can intervene with.

Project Insight was the flagship of of a "quantum surge in threat analysis." It did exactly what it was designed to do: it took out threats before they became threats. The only difference between SHIELD being at the helm and HYDRA is who gets defined as a threat. HYDRA would have defined that as anyone from a high school valedictorian in Iowa to Stephen Strange, but it's not any better if SHIELD's defining that as some random kid in Afghanistan who shows whatever traits show a risk for one day becoming a combatant.

And yet, steve's the only one in the movie who says this. We don't actually know how much Nat knows about Project insight itself, but Fury is fully aware and a participant in it, and Tony Stark apparently took one look at the thing and said "your engines are shit. i'll improve them." Steve takes one look at them and calls it fascist bullshit.

At the end of the day, you can never justify shit like this under the assumption that the people controlling it will use it for the best, because you cannot trust the people controlling it. Yeah, Project Insight was probably pitched with being used against the worst threats. Dangers to public safety, terrorists, that kind of thing. Do you want to know who else was considered a danger to public safety? MLK, who the FBI fucking murdered. The people who define threats to national security are the ones who have the same incentive to maintain the status quo in an unjust world. Even if we assume Project Insight was made to stop the next 9/11, we also have to assume that at least some of the strikes it would have carried out under not-HYDRA control would have been for the wrong reasons.

What the fuck does all of this this have to do with Zola?

Operation Paperclip and Peggy and Howard's decisions within it directly mirrors Project Insight and Fury's decisions within it, directly mirrors Steve's journey and central conflict over the course of the film, and directly contrasts with the alternative Sam poses within it.

CA:WS at its thematic core, says that initiatives that sacrifice justice for claims of national security and public safety are exactly what robs us of our rights and freedoms and ultimately endangers us all. It's not even subtle--Zola says it out loud in his evil villain speech. but operating at a high level in a government agency puts you in a position where you're meant to make that decision again and again, even if we assume you have the best of intentions.

Peggy and Howard were people who believed that they had to make the hard decisions to save the world. They were handed a decision where perception of culpability was obscured by how distributed out the blame was, and the direct public benefit to national security was posed to be overwhelmingly good. It leads to SHIELD's infiltration. Project Insight went through on the exact same reasoning. Fury, Maria Hill, possibly Nat, and Tony (off-screen) all do the exact same thing and justify the means by the end, and it leads to the helicarriers being made.

Steve spends the movie being told, explicitly, to "get with the program" and start making the same decisions. His central conflict is being someone on the inside of this club, being told that he needs to start understand what keeping the world safe demands, and his journey leads to him refusing to do it. The climax of the movie is a character so minor that we never learn his name refusing to launch the helicarriers with a gun pointed at his head, even though the complicity he carried in it would have been just as attenuated as Steve's was as SHIELD's janitor. And all throughout it, there's Sam, someone who left the military explicitly because he couldn't follow the rules he was being given anymore.

Peggy and Howard's decision to go along with Zola in Operation Paperclip is a direct parallel of the decisions Fury made with Project Insight and the decisions Steve ultimately refuses to make himself. Making Peggy and Howard complicit in what let in Arnim Zola encapsulates the entire core argument of CA:WS and it's so weird to me that I've only ever seen it discussed in shipping wars and discourse as to whether a Character Is Bad.

Peggy and Howard, ultimately, were members of a governmental task force who made the Hard Decisions for The Public Good. As an inherent part of that role, they did bad things. Unjust things. They undoubtedly saved the world multiple times over as a part of their tenure as the head of SHIELD, but it would be absolute naivety to assume that anyone in that position didn't become complicit in terrible fucking things. It's the direct product of their positions in the government, and it's exactly what leads to Steve's position in Civil War. it is absolutely bonkers to me how people watched Winter Solider and then reacted to Steve's opposition to the Accords like Local Imperialist Military Boy Refuses To Listen To Anyone Else. Steve just had a masterclass in how people in the government make decisions that sacrifice justice up to and including people he once trusted with his life. Of course he didn't fucking trust General Human Experimentation And I Consider Bruce Banner The Property Of The United States Military with his every action as Captain America. He had just learned that he couldn't even trust Peggy and Howard with it.

#this became very long #and you know what #if i want to say the same thing in the tags of some unsuspecting person's post then that's my right #more tags when #more tags NOW

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