#when i actually get invested with the reader's character???? its crazy

[blabberoo]

I am not ok

[daresplaining]

"You're crazy, all of you. I'm real, you hear me? As real as anyone." Daredevil vol. 5 #607 by Charles Soule, Phil Noto, and Clayton Cowles

"I don't even know how to say this...I'm not real." Devil's Reign #5 by Chip Zdarsky, Marco Checchetto,  Marcio Menyz, and Clayton Cowles

I touched on this topic in this post, but the thought has been gnawing on my brain since Devil's Reign #5 dropped (in March 2022? Mike has been dead for two years already?! God...) so I'm giving it its own post.

Modern Mike's existence is divided into two clearly delineated states of being: "fragment" (Reader's umbrella term for his creations) and "Real Boy" (Mike's term for himself from the 2020 Annual, though shout-out to the fans who had already been calling him that since 2018). It's a literal transformation, from one form of life to another, but it also spans Mike's character arc and psychological journey: from desperately declaring his realness in Daredevil volume 5 to begrudgingly accepting the nature of his existence at the end of his introductory arc, to taking action and making himself real in Daredevil volume 6. For me, the above scene from #607 was the gut-punch moment that first got me intensely intensely invested in modern Mike, when the depth of his fear and the horror of his situation became clear-- and the emotional resonance of that moment, for me, carried over into the bombshell scene in Devil's Reign #5 when he answered the questions that had been left dangling after he rewrote reality in the 2020 Annual: Did he still remember the previous version of the world? Did he remember what he had done to change it? Did he remember being a "fragment"?

His nervous declaration to Butch-- "I'm not real"-- hits like a truck not just because it is such a risky admission, but also because of how it contextualizes Mike's new reality and what his cosmic rewrite actually changed for him. Which, it would seem, was probably not enough.

Yes, after his trick with the Norn Stone, the gaps in his memories have been filled in. Yes, he now has a birth certificate and a social security number (presumably) and actual friends and family who share actual history with him, and I'm sure that's a tremendous relief. But how much of a solace can it really be, when he still knows that the only reason he has all of those things is because he forced the universe to give them to him? His twin might think they were born together now, but Mike still knows the truth about how he was created, and now he is the only person in the world who does. He has gone from having unique memories of a past that doesn't exist for anyone else to...having unique memories of a past that doesn't exist for anyone else.

Is this new reality that much better than the old one for Mike? If he still knows that he hasn't always been real, does he feel any less like a ghost?

It is very easy to find parallels between Mike being the only person who remembers his time as a "fragment" and Matt, following the Purple Children's mind wipe, being the only person who still knew that he was Daredevil. Matt was stuck with knowledge of a world that once was-- a world in which his identity was public-- and he couldn't handle the sudden total isolation of no one at all sharing his secret, and so decided to tell someone (but just one person; Foggy). Mike's situation was nearly the same. The fear and isolation and vulnerability he'd felt as a fragment was something he had literally bent the universe to escape, but he was still left haunted by the memory of it. We didn't get much of a sense of what was going on in Mike's head in his appearances following the Annual, but I can only imagine that, mixed in with everything else he was feeling in that scene in Devil's Reign #5, he felt some amount of relief sharing the weight of that secret with his best friend. I have to wonder if, had he lived long enough, he would have told anyone else.

[tmwcs]

Hey! Its my first time sending an ask hehe~ I just wanted to say that you’re such an amazing writer and your series are just sooooo good!!! 😍😍😍 I started getting into your account when I came across the smau for MRE and HHP and I gotta say, you got me hooked so bad onto Heethan that I end up loving all your Hee-leads so far! I’m so invested in HHP, SE7EN, DT and now TO! I’m honestly so excited to read a new chapter everytime you post hahaha! 🤭🤭

The main reason I wanted to send you this is cuz I’ve been having super stressful and bad days these past few days and its mainly cuz its my final year in college, final semester and final week actually 😅 and there’s just like sooo many final preparations needed to be done for my big final year project (having my big presentation today! soooo nervous) and its just been too much and too overwhelming for me and I didn’t wanna bother anyone with my anxiousness so I’ve been keeping it all to myself and having slight panic attacks and just started having random breakdowns as I complete my assignments. Reading your series, whether its new chapters or just rereading older ones have given me comfort, like I really felt alone but its like Heethan, Heelel and the Heebros have become my comfort characters. It’s just been so overwhelming for me and I didn’t wanna bother my family with it, I only have one other friend that I trust with my whole life but rarely see her, we’re all busy and I just felt like I’m falling behind in everything. Even though the Hee-leads might be like crazy obsessed with the reader, its like I really needed them in my life just to have someone to drop everything just to hold and comfort me anytime life becomes too much for me. I’m actually crying while writing this to you hahaha… it just feels like everyone around me is moving so fast and I’m stuck at the back picking myself up just because I feel so overwhelmed and anxious easily. Turning 20 this year is another thing that has me feeling afraid of adulthood, my mum is pressuring me into getting a job immediately once I graduate but I just feel like I’m not ready, or I’m just not ready to give up my teenage freedom and socialise professionally. Being such an introvert and shy and always thinking I’m just dumb and cant do work without help has been holding me back from wanting to grow and enjoy this new chapter in life.

So sorry for this long ass rant but i just really needed to let you know how much your stories, your Hee-leads have been keeping me going. Excited for the next chapters of your series! Hope you’re having a great day❣️

Omg so....I LOVE THIS.....this is so heartwarming and thank you for sharing it with me. Also, thank you for discovering my blog so you can write this to me, bc as you may have figured, receiving asks are just....its so nice. its a nice and wonderful surprise to hear from readers interesting in my work, wanting to know more about the characters and so forth. I am just beyond touched that heethan, heelel, and heebrows have made their way into your heart and to provide you comfort. in fact, reading your message had reminded me of a piece that i had started to draft (it was originally supposed to be a part of one of the HHP chapters but i never went through with it) but i still had it in my folders so after i finished reading your message, I decided to go back and actually finish it and format it specifically for you as y/n. I hope you like it. <3

Heeseung's Message.....

MDNI18+ content below the line.

Warnings: mentions of losing loved ones, fears and worries about the future, smut, car smut, unprotected smut, some....just some sadness....its a very heartwarming and touching piece.

"What's wrong baby?"

Noting how silent you were in the car, right after he picked you up, Heeseung rubbed your thigh, gently shifting your skirt upwards as he softly slid his hand up and down, enveloping you with warmth and comfort. "Something on your mind pretty baby?"

Placing your hand on his, you grabbed hold semi-tightly, keeping your gaze out at the window. You were hesitant at first, noting that Heeseung had a busy schedule of his own, was on his way of finishing his last year in college, aiding his professors, and of course, there was you....picking you up from classes, dropping you off every morning, taking you wherever you needed to go. You appreciated it but the man had completely devoted his time to everything else, you felt it selfish to bring any matters up to him....feeling that whatever time he did have left within the evening, he should at least have it for himself.

"It's nothing." You sighed out.

Glancing over to you, he furrowed his brows and quickly shifted the wheel, stirring the car over to a nearby parking lot on one of the campus buildings.

"What are you....?" raising up in your seat, you looked around before turning your gaze over to Heeseung, who steered the wheel with one hand and in a smooth motion, parked the car. Unbuckling his seatbelt, his gaze meets with yours before he reaches up and places his hand behind your head, softly grabbing onto your hair as he leans in and rests his forehead against yours.

"Whats wrong? Did something happen? Did someone hurt you? I wanna know. Tell me, y/n."

His eyes were wide and his expression was fierce with rage, however, before he further ventured off into a spiraling path of unhinged presumptions, you reached up and latched your fingers onto his collar, placing a dainty kiss on his lips. "Its not that....I promise nothing like that happened."

Raising his brows and tilting his head, he releases the gentle grip he had on your hair, and replaced it with a soft, petting motion. "Then why are you being so quiet? You seem upset, what is it?"

Looking down at the console for just a second, you raise your sights once more to meet his and began talking.

".....Are you ever scared about the future, Heeseung?"

His face was taken slightly aback as he raised both brows and looked at you with an intent look.

"Is that what this is about? Are you feeling overwhelmed about moving?"

Shaking your head, you looked down once more as you shyly clarified. "Nooo.....its not just that....its more..."

"Like what baby?"

"Like....after the moving.....finishing college, being in an unfamiliar country, not knowing anybody, making new friends, meeting your family, being apart from mine, learning a new language, finding a job after college, and what if I have to do more college? Or ...." pausing, you caught yourself drifting in verbal thought.

"Or....?" He draws out as he bids you to finish your statement.

"Or........what if....what if something happens and we........you know.....what if we just...."

Squinting his eyes slightly, his expression looked a little irked as he rolled his tongue in his mouth. "That's never going to happen y/n. You know that."

"Yeah but....."

"But what?" Slightly annoyed, he closed his eyes for a second, tilted his chin down, and lifted his lids to expose a rather stern and rather angry look. Yet the moment he saw that your eyes began to glisten, shining like diamonds as the tears started to build up, you looked down once more, unable to look him square in the eye as you felt the first tear break free and drip down on the leather padding of the console.

Watching as you faintly sobbed, he nearly felt his heart break into two. He gasped out a faint breath as he reached over with his other hand and cupped your face, no longer expressing a look of annoyance.

"Hey......why? What's making you think that way? Am I not showing you enough love? You know whatever it is you want, all you have to do is tell me and I'll make it happen."

"Its not that i just........there's just some things we can't predict about the future Heeseung......what if some day......what if you stop loving me......or worse.....what if something happens and I no longer have you? What if....just.......you never know.....is it wrong for me to hope for the best, but expect the worse? Because...you know that life can be so unfair some times....and I....I....I'm scared because....I dont even know....what I'm scared of sometimes. I wake up every single morning not even knowing how to live life because there's so many things that I think about....so many things that are thrown at me all at once and I just.....I feel like sometimes......I might fail......I feel like sometimes.....I will let you down.......I feel like its not the world, its me.........its me that's broken, not you or anyone else."

You gasped out tears and soft cries as you spoke straight from the heart. For the first time, Heeseung had sincerely considered if going to Korea was the best option, at least just for a second before he reminded himself of the future that he had waiting for him.....a future that would allow him to continue to keep you....safe....and with him.

Shifting his sights around on the floor bed of the car, his thumbs stroke your cheeks, wiping away the continuous flow of tears that were now coming down harder than before. Gulping down a hard swallow, he turns back to face you.

"Baby.........look at me....please look at me."

Looking up into his gaze, your eyes red, swollen, with eyelashes drenched and your face stained with wet trails of all your fears leaving their mark. With a soft smile, he calmly speaks.

"You're right.....that is tough. There's a lot that we can't control in the future....its precarious, and we're literally just pawns on the board of this silly game called life, where God and the universe are taking turns making each move. It can be cruel, unfair, and tormenting. Its something that we can either overcome with great strife and hard work."

"But what happens if we work so hard and it.....it just doesnt work out? What if everything just falls apart Heeseung?"

"We wont know unless it happens y/n......the thing about the future, as much as we want it here in the present, so we can see and view what it has in store for us, thats....just not the way it works. That's not the way we work....we're not designed to know those things. We didn't become strong because we cheated, we became strong and survived because we, as humans, learned....the hard way."

Looking into his eyes, your vision started to become blurry all over as the next set of tears built up. Smiling as he continued to wipe your tears away, he continues.

"Y/n....for thousands of years, people have fallen, lost, and suffered at the creativity of the universe. Yet we never gave up......people had an urge to survive. Which is why at times, even when the entire world was on fire, times where a soldier never comes home, a woman loses her child, or when a doctor just doesnt have a cure.....we keep moving....we get back up and learn how to walk again. I can't sit here and tell you that I know that everything is going to be great.....I dont know. But what I do know.....is this...."

Shifting his hands down to your waist, he lifts you with his core strength as his abdominal muscles flexed under his shirt. Bringing you over onto his lap, he sat you down in a princess style as he cradled you against his chest.

"No matter what happens....I'm going to be there. I'm going to be there and I'm going to help you, just like you're going to help me. I'll never let anything happen to you....and.....you never have to worry about me not loving you .....noooooooo pretty baby......that's never going to happen, not loving you would be the worst offense against Heaven and humanity. As far as if anything were to happen to me...."

The moment Heeseung touched on that part of the subject, you sobbed uncontrollably against his neck.

"Heeeeeey, come on now. Nothing's even happen, why are you acting like that's a for sure thing?" he chuckles out as he kisses your forehead. "Listen..." Taking your hand in his, he continues.

"I'm not going anywhere......I'm not. I know this because I know what is living for me......you. I will never abandon you. Even if something did happen, you know i'm always going to be with you. You know how?"

Shaking your head, he brushes your hair away from your face.

"Moments like this baby. Every time we talk, touch, feel each other, love, eat, sleep, kiss, and when I fuck your brains out...." gripping onto your waist tightly, he presses his forehead against your own once more. "All the things we do, they never leave. So.......if there is ever a time where I am not physically here......you're always going to remember how i feel..." gliding his hand from your waist, he reaches down and gently trails it upwards under your skirt, his fingers reaching into your panties.

"You're going to remember my touch..." kissing your neck, he latches his mouth onto your soft spot under your ear, and rings the tip of his tongue around in slow circular motions.

"You're going to remember my scent...." with his free hand, he reaches behind your head and gently pushes your face inward, causing your nose to become burrowed in his thatch of dark long, shaggy hair, inhaling the scent of his cool-mint cologne and his shampoo.

"You'll also remember what I taste like...." placing a soft peck on the spot he was sucking on, he tilts his head up slightly and brings your head down to kiss him.

"And best of all......pretty baby.......you're going to remember what it feels like when I fuck you......when I love you." Shifting your body to face forward, your back completely spooned by his chest and groin as you both remained seated in the drivers side, he spreads your legs open by pushing our inner thighs apart. You were so caught up with the sensual four play, you hadn't realized that he tore off your panties. Unbuttoning your blouse, exposing your breasts, he shifts you up as he levels his length to align with your slit, before proceeding to enter inside you. Feeling full of his flesh, you moaned out as the overwhelming sense of pleasure hits you........taking you away from the abysmal depths of your fears and worries.

Steadying you in a reverse cowgirl position, filing you, his cock melts inside you as he begins thrusting slow and steady, picking up the pace as your walls become more moist.

"You feel me pretty baby?"

"Y-yes!"

"Yeah? You gonna remember me forever?"

"Y-yes...yes! He-Heeseung!"

"You gonna remember what this feels like?"

"Yes!"

"What does it feel like baby? Tell me."

"F-f......fe-feels......ssss......goood......soo....soo.goood....ugh!"

"Harder or faster baby?"

"ugh! both! please both!"

Thrusting repeatedly, your body falls limp as he holds you upright, with one arm wrapped around your waist, and his other hand shifting a grip between your neck and your exposed breast, he muffles your moans and screams with his mouth as he swallows every single bit of your precious tones.

"Gonna cum for me?"

"Y-ye.....yes!...yes.......ugh! He-Heeseung!"

"Yeah? You gonna cum because you're a good girl?"

"Mmm!mmmmmm....mmmhmmm!....ugh!"

"You my good girl?"

"Y....yes!!"

"Yeah you are.......now fucking cum on me. Let me feel it."

Adding more depth to each thrust, you gasped out your screams of pleasure as he rams his cock deep inside, separating new found walls and extracting the moisture out of your body. Reaching orgasm and releasing all over his member, your thighs shake relentlessly.

"Good girl.....my turn."

Cupping your lower tummy, he pushes in and feels his thick length as it slides in and out, he found it amusing how your sensitive body could take him like this, especially feeling it inside you as he was doing right now. Jacking his member deep inside you at a rapid and hard momentum, he finally reaches his moment and with one last punctured thrust, he bucks his hips upward as he shoves you down, mashing your bodies together as he releases inside and fills your body up.

Pulling your head back as he latches his mouth on your neck yet again, suckling as your body bounces rigorously from the tenacity of his performance.

Feeling the pleasure of his tainted love, you somehow were to understand his message clearly, all due to Heeseung extracting you from your fears......which he had done before, back when Samuel sent you his email......back when you and Heeseung came together for the first time.....the start of your guys story. Just as he did back then, he helped you to understand, that the reality of what life gives, is never necessarily the ending to your story. The more he kept pumping into you, the more you were reminded of that clarity. Yea sure, you still felt scared, but knowing that if at first you dont succeed....reach happiness.....or if things just dont work out, you can and should always, try-try again. A lesson you were always reminded of, all thanks to Heethan.

Authors note: Lol, sooooooo...yeah this original draft did have some smut....and i was going to take it out but it was too crucial for me to do so. I hope you dont mind that. But, this chapter was originally drafted, back a few months ago. I had this thought in my head, since I have only taken a few college courses, and am about to start back up on it, I was feeling so dreadful and felt too nervous about doing well. I want to succeed in reaching my educational goals....but what also kind of bugged me was....will i still find time to write? I love writing, truly do. Mainly because it brings other people joy and brings out their most inner feelings. I had so much on my mind that time that i had began drafting this, but as i was writing it, i left it unfinished bc honestly, when i drafted heethan's message.....literally its like his voice was telling me what to write....i felt better. like it was a nice little reminder....realistic...very rational....and honest...but still positive and holds truth. there's a lot of things we can't control, but we should never give up. Its okay to be scared and to worry, that's natural, and that is exactly why people such as myself are here, writing these chapters and stories for you all because i know that there is such a thing called 'life' and sometimes....we just need a break from it to refresh ourselves. I know you have alot on your plate, but dont worry because everything will be more than fine. We have to pace ourselves, work hard, but also rest, and play from time to time. Eat and drink well, and finish strong. finish college, work with your mother and teach her to work with you, if you dont get the job you really want, no big deal. no matter what job you get, if its one you dont want, nothing lasts forever. just think that whatever you do now, it is only making you more marketable for the dream goal you have. I hope you continue strong because while you do have alot on your plate, you've been slaying....you've been killing it! and that's a major accomplishment in itself, last of year of college? woohoo! finish strong!

So now i should apologize for responding with the longest post ever lol. but i really hope this makes you feel better. Reading your message had reminded me of this piece and i am so glad you sent it to me because....looking at it now...and actually finishing it......this was something that was meant to be published and shared. bc it holds an important message for all of us. <3

Enjoyed this piece? Show love and treat your girl to a cup of coffee. ♥️ 

☕ Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/reinbow

[electronickingdomfox]

"Crisis on Centaurus" review

Novel from 1986, by Brad Ferguson. This one has a very "80's American action movie" feel. From the terrorist attack on a country incidentally called "New America", to the incursion into the Pentagon (I mean, the "Centaurus Defense Center"), up to the obligatory car chase (only that they're flying cars). There are also plenty of references to American brands, that supposedly would have survived into the 23rd century. Though the constant mention of money seems a bit weird (I thought money was a thing from the past in Star Trek? Might be wrong, though). Also, the terrorists are racists that want to see their country free of alien influences (and it's made abundantly clear that for them, "alien influences" include also any non-white human). It's a fast-paced novel, and keeps the reader's attention at all times, though I don't think there's much more to it than that.

The cover would suggest that Joanna McCoy plays a big role in the story. In reality, she appears very, very little, the same as her father. The other characters, however, get a fair amount of exposure, including Uhura (who gets the con for a large part of the story), Scotty (who's given an even more Scottish engineer partner), Chekov (with his own mini-romance subplot) and Sulu. As it's usual with many of these novels, Kirk seemed to me a bit off. At times, he's more Bruce Willis than Kirk here. And I have difficulty imagining him as a land-owner who's been investing in the Centaurian countryside all these years (if the movies had shown anything at this point, it's that Kirk's heart was never on land). Anyway, I don't know why getting Kirk right is so hard, while Spock and McCoy are usually fine; it might be due to the subtleties of Kirk's character. Another noteworthy thing, is that this novel often presents the thoughts of the characters, to a greater degree than other books.

Spoilers under the cut:

The first chapter already sets things into motion at a breakneck pace. A suspicious guy is waiting in the New Athens spaceport (a city of New America, in the planet Centaurus). When two policemen recognize him as a certain Holtzman, he gets arrested, and in a panic, he activates a minuscule piece of antimatter inside the box... A microsecond later, New Athens doesn't exist anymore, being replaced by a giant, smoldering crater.

Meanwhile, the Enterprise is having problems of its own. The computers have been completely fucked up, and nobody knows why: there's no air circulation, no temperature regulation, no artificial gravity, nothing... The scene of everybody floating around, while Sulu's scalding shower water floats through the corridors as a giant ball, is actually pretty funny. Scotty and his new partner, MacPherson, manage to reestablish some sense of order, but the ship is seriously crippled. Repairs will have to wait, though, since Starfleet orders the Enterprise to assist in the Centaurus crisis. There's been at least a million deaths in the explosion; possibly among them several relatives of the crew, including McCoy's daughter: Joanna. However, the tachyon cloud released by the antimatter explosion has made all subspace communications impossible, so Centaurus is isolated. For his part, Spock investigates the computer malfunction, and finds out a mysterious hole that has pierced several computer banks at exactly the same point; however, he can't make heads or tails of it.

Upon approaching Centaurus, they discover that other relief ships in orbit have been reduced to debris. And a transmission through conventional radio (the only radio that can penetrate the tachyon cloud) warns the Enterprise not to approach. Sure enough, the ship is attacked by a nuclear missile from Centaurus. It seems the Defense Center has gone crazy after the explosion, and now launches missiles at any approaching ship, friend or foe. Fortunately, the Defense computers consider the Enterprise anihillated after the first strike, so they don't continue the attack. Kirk leaves in a shuttle with Sulu, to meet with the new government at the temporary capital of McIverton. While Spock leaves with Chekov in another shuttle, to investigate the Defense Center and deactivate the missile system.

There's a brief interlude, that presents some suspicious guys (led by this Barclay dude) hiding at a safe house. It's obvious they're related to the terrorist attack, and Barclay instructs some of his goons to meet with a certain person, and force him to cooperate.

In McIverton, Kirk meets with the new president, the Minister of Defense, and the Minister of Internal Security (Nathaniel Burke). The president explains that the terrorist attack was done by a racist political group, led by the scientist Holtzman, to get more power for his group.

At the Defense Center, Spock is unable to reprogram the computer to differentiate between friendly and hostile ships. So he's like "well, let's blow up this bazillion missiles in the sun and problem solved!" (and yeah, this is totally in-character for Spock; the guy is that crazy sometimes). Thus, Spock expands the defense area of the computer to include Alpha Centauri, the computer interprets the sun as a hostile element, and launches all the remaining missiles at it. Poof! After solving this problem, Spock takes the shuttle to the northern area of New Athens, where there have been some survivors. A makeshift hospital has been established in a park, and there they find Joanna working as a nurse, safe and sound. There's a moving reunion between her and McCoy, who stays behind to help the injured. While Spock's shuttle makes trips to the Enterprise to bring medical supplies.

At McIverton, Kirk is visited at his hotel by the lawyer Samuel Cogley (from the episode Court Martial). Cogley explains that he was approached by Barclay to defend them at a Federation trial, and not on Centaurus (which has a death penalty for terrorism). And Kirk, despite not having the slightest sympathy for the criminals, considers that the matter belongs in a Federation court and vows to fulfill his duty. However, that same morning, Sulu appears drugged in bed, and the hotel surrounded by Burke's men. The Minister isn't going to let the terrorists off the hook, since he lost his family in the explosion. Kirk, Sulu and Cogley make a frantic escape in a flying car (well, not so frantic for Sulu, who's still sleeping like a log). They retrieve Barclay and his men, and take refuge in Kirk's cabin in Garrovick Valley (a beautiful, secluded forest area that Kirk bought a long time ago).

In the final part, Kirk and his companions barricade themselves inside the cabin, surrounded by Burke's troops. Until the Enterprise, having received a faint distress signal from the cabin, comes to the rescue... by entering the godamn atmosphere!! (didn't I say earlier that Spock's totally nuts?). Cogley decides to just bring the terrorists to the Federation, but not represent them, when it's made obvious that they were also involved in Holtzman's attack. The rest of the antimatter bombs, that the terrorists kept as leverage, are also identified and deactivated. While New Athens is slowly reconstructed, by the joint effort of the locals and new relief ships from all over the Federation.

As for the strange holes in the Enterprise computer banks... Spock ends up concluding that they were caused by a minuscule black hole, which existed just for a fraction of second, and the Enterprise traversed at warp speed. Does it mean that, at any time, at any place, a mini-black hole could appear out of nowhere and just pierce you like that!? That's the stuff of nightmares, really...

Spirk Meter: 5/10*. Kirk wants to show Spock his "special, secret place" (no! not THAT!, I mean his valley at Centaurus). Kirk considers that Spock would appreciate its aesthetic beauty, and invites him to stay there with him as long as he wants. Spock is also a bit hurt because Kirk didn't tell him about the valley earlier. Actually, the rating could be a bit higher, considering that the cabin is said to have just a twin bed, and a massage bed for two. Apart from this, Kirk notices things about Spock that nobody else seems to see (like Spock swallowing nervously sometimes). The two of them interact very little in the novel, though, since they take separate paths.

Some Spones too. When Spock meets Joanna, he finds her strikingly similar to McCoy and... magnificient. He thinks of her as a "softer McCoy, pretty without glamour", which says a little about how he sees the doctor himself. Also, when McCoy is in emotional turmoil upon learning that Joanna is alive, after so many days of uncertainty, Spock says to himself: "I know that feeling well, Doctor. Draw strength from me, if you need it." (only that McCoy has no telepathy so... how is he going to hear that!?).

And then there's the McKirk. A flashback chapter presents a young Ensign Kirk recovering from a wound at a starbase hospital. There he first meets this kind Dr. McCoy, who helps him through the painful months of recovery. After Kirk is healed, McCoy invites him to stay with him at Centaurus, where his daughter lives with some relatives. And McCoy brings Jim to these beautiful woods and wilderness areas, just the two of them and Joanna, and well... you know. It's even more evident, because McCoy is relieved upon seeing that Joanna approves of Jim (seems like the little girl was troublesome with most of her daddy's dates). Too bad for poor McCoy, that Kirk ends up inviting a pretty nurse (and then Spock) to his cabin, and not him...

*A 10 in this scale is the most obvious spirk moments in TOS. Think of the back massage, "You make me believe in miracles", or "Amok Time" for example.

[tlbodine]

Hi! I'm currently studying how to write horror for an assignment i have. I wanted to ask a few questions to you if it isn't a problem :>

1)When writing psychological horror, what should i keep in mind? Like, idk if you played ddlc, but i really like the slow descent into madness the game has, any tips on translating that into writing?

2) Any tips in how to install a false sense of security into the reader?

Ty for your time! (also love your book on writing horror on wattpad, it was a big help with my studies! ^w^)

Hi! Sorry for the delayed response, I've had kind of a crazy week. I hope this still gets to you in time to be helpful for your assignment :)

I think there are a few things that are especially important to consider with psychological horror:

Uncertainty. It helps a lot to leave things ambiguous. You need to explain enough to be satisfying and prevent confusion, but no more. Leaving unanswered questions, and leaving a lot of room for speculation about what's happening, is important.

A slow burn is important. You want to spend a fair bit of time really getting to know the characters and getting invested in them before things start to really ramp up. The trick is to sloooowly increase the tension by introducing more and more incongruous elements and uncertainty/weirdness with increasingly big stakes, right up until a crescendo where the dam breaks. DDLC does this really well imo. It lures you in at first with its false premise and aesthetic, makes you wonder "Ok, where is this headed?", then punches you in the face before descending into chaos.

Once you actually hit the chaos stage of the psychological horror, don't be afraid to go big. If you've set up your slow-burn right, you can afford to get really dramatic or even dip into melodrama territory.

As for a false sense of security, one thing that can work really well is if, pretty early on, you provide your characters with a simple, reasonable explanation that could explain everything. Except, of course, that it's wrong. The key to making this work is the explanation doesn't *quite* fit reality. It has to sound more like a rationalization. Something that's, like, 80% right but just doesn't...quite...cover everything. The trick to THAT is you have to make sure the rationalization doesn't make your characters seem like idiots. (for example: doors that keep being unlocked when you're sure you locked them can be rationalized in all sorts of ways. knives flying through the air, not so much. If your character is standing in the kitchen with knives flying at her face saying, "oh, haha, it's just the wind!" that's not going to feel terribly plausible)

Hope that helps! Some psychological horrors I can recommend that you might enjoy:

The Little Stranger by Sarah Waters. A gothic horror/haunted house story, except the house isn't haunted quite the way you expect it to be.

A Head Full of Ghosts by Paul Tremblay. Cabin at the End of the World by Paul Tremblay is also perfect.

Not a book, but the film Smile is a good recent psychological horror. Skinamarink is too, although it's kind of hit-or-miss whether you'll like it since it's an experimental, non-narrative film.

[melissa-titanium]

OC QUESTION!! :D

which kind of stories do your ocs like? (can be any oc) like, how we read books and watch shows, which kind of stories would your ocs like?

OMG HI AZ. HI HI HI HI fuck ok that is a very good question.

oryx because i've been thinking about him lately... he's a doctor, so very analytical and has similar interests to mel (though he LOATHES that fact.) often reads nonfiction, usually factual things like studies of the brain and soul magic. despite being a physical doctor, he reads a LOT about mental disorders & the like. if you asked him what stories he liked, in terms of fictional ones... he'd probably like something like evangelion. he'd definitely watch house md, and find the medical practices funny. though again, humans don't really exist in this era so house md wouldnt.,... like.,......happen . eva either. but like HYPOTHETICALLY. you know.

mel will read anything and everything. stories, anatomical reference books, automotive mechanic books, pre-koboreal invasion literature, fucking give him a 600 page book on cleaning bathroom floor tiles he Will Read It. he wants to KNOW shit. he fucking HATES movies, but because he's a contrarian there are some instances where he'll watch them. he can't sit still long enough to watch entire hour long movies/episodes etc but if you give him something to do while listening in the bg he'll be set for life. he's ME so he'd watch what i watch, mp100, dunmeshi, murder drones (he would LOVE murder drones. ep 4 would make him hungry for oil, which is dangerous because he works as a mechanic on occasion LOL) you could never get him to admit it but he's probably watched twilight. he's a vampire and he LOVES wolves. (i... don't share this trait. i haven't watched twilight. mel would NEVER watch true crime/horror movies. not because he's scared of them or anything similar, because he much prefers when the violence is actually happening in front of him, ESPECIALLY when he's the one doing it. don't forget he is a mass murderer & a cannibal who enjoys violence.

draco is illiterate. she's not stupid, but she, similarly to me, struggles in investing herself in a story unless she really clicks with it/its characters or story. she probably likes MAKING stories more than reading them, honestly... the issue with that though is that she can't write because of her claws. she's too insecure about her own opinions to think too hard about characters & stories and even MORE so to even share them, but maybe at some point she read with magmivit, & they helped her write! you gotta consider she was living away from civilization with nothing & no one but her freak ass of a mom & crazy bitch dad out in the woods, she never had stories, so she really likes them. she'd much rather cozy up and struggle to read a book than go out and do something on her own, unless the "doing something" involved being useful for others. stories that are more blunt & obvious in their delivery but still handle mature themes would be good for her... atla, mlp, guardians of gahoole would be good for her. i think she'd like warrior cats if it didn't make her sad.

TROUT! manga reader. anime watcher. she's kind of a weeb... DEFINITELY WATCHES RWBY & AMPHIBIA & HOMESTUCK my main inspos for her were ruby, marcy & june after all . haha. she watches eva because of oryx, when your weird adoptive cat uncle/past life recommends you a show you HAVE to watch it. she doesn't *read* a lot, she likes picture books & comics more than big walls of text because of how easily she's bored. action movies would be something she likes. she's museful, but likes to shut her brain off sometimes. not very character-analysis-y, prefers when characters are easy to read & relatable.

THJANK UOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING ME THIS I LIOVE QUESTINS ABOUT MY; OCS. *DIES

[consistentsquash]

https://consistentsquash.tumblr.com/post/735968615712653312/favourite-snape-characterisation-in-fanfic This range is genuinely shocking. From outside Snape fandom look like they agree on Snape's characterization unlike Marauders fandom. How are these different headcanons coexisting without discourse friction?

Hiya!!

The actual range in Snape fandom is huge!!! That post is my personal Snape reading range. Lots and lots of great fic with softer/darker Snape characterizations on either side of that range.

My takes as a reader below the cut. YMMV. Also tagging @danpuff-ao3 who knows this fandom inside out, @perverse-idyll who is the best for history <3

Of course Snape fans have pretty strong personal takes on Snape characterization. But folks are probably older on average and more chill? This type of ship is a pretty different vibe compared to other popular ships because of the powerdynamics and age gap. Also a lot of folks probably exhausted forever because Snape fandom OoTP/HBP/DH was pretty intense. Plus Lily. It was the type of intensity which really burned out a lot of folks. Not saying we dont have headcanon wars but like its a different stage of fandom compared to Marauders. I am pretty jealous of the level of activity in Marauders tbh but otoh it can also get exhausting. Snarry/Snape fandom isn't really huge like Marauders. Probably shrinking based on the fandom ship stats. Also a ton of folks are multishippers. Those folks are chill about headcanons because they probably have different dynamics for Snarry/Snack/Snupin/Snamione/other ships.

Tl;dr we have headcanons and stuff. Folks probably dont notice because other ships/fandoms have more activity. It's not really a cult with one standard Snape characterization version. Not saying we don't do cults because Snapewives was a thing :D

Also hard to generalize. Snape multishippers/Snape OTP fandom, Snape het fandom/Snape slash fandom, Snape age gap fandom/Snape peer ship fandom, Snape shipping fandom/Snape gen fandom have some overlaps but also lots of differences. Also the folks interested in the type of Rich Pure Blood Snape before OoTP/folks interested in reading/writing him after OoTP/after HBP/after DH are really pretty different because his character arc had lots of twists.

Maybe check out the Snarry fanlore article to get an idea about that range/history. Also really good info on the history side in this interview from Ellen Fremedon

The only list that I really stayed active on was the Snape slash list, and pretty much I made the transition from Star Trek to Harry Potter when I found the Snape slash list and realized that that was where the grownups were. It — especially at that point in the fandom it was very Balkanized, and the Snape slashers were actually renowned at that point for generally being level-headed and rational grown-ups that it was fun to be around. (laughs) Well, because they were grown-ups who'd been in other fandoms before and who'd come to this out of other fannish communities and knew the fucking social norms and were not a bunch of feral teenagers that had to be socialized. And they also were not heavily invested in shipping wars because they were Snape slashers and they knew that Snape was not going to get a boyfriend in the books. Ever. So, we were not looking for textual validation. (laughs) So, yeah, it was sort of its own little polite, well-mannered, sane — it sounds crazy saying this at this point now, but that's really, yeah, it was where the nice, polite, well-mannered rational grownups hung out when I first got into Harry Potter fandom. (both interviewer and interviewee laugh) Well, remember this was also before any of the movies, so there wasn't the Alan Rickman thing going on yet either.

[bonesandthebees]

GODDDHFJSKAJDJFKFKJSKFKFJFJF I FINISHEDDD I'll probs do a reread and do a proper review bc I didn't get a chance to write down my thoughts while reading through the first time but eueuudufvjjsjdd I'm so emotional that was the perfect fucking ending for glass bee oh my gosh :(( 🫶🫶🫶

They mean sm to me I feel so ougohuhohigihoh

I love your fics so much man they're genuinely so incredible and I think they're the most unique this fandom has ever seen. Like glass and stars are both sooo<333 the world building?? The plot and conflicts?? Idk it's just crazy to me that we get to read this shit for free it's fuckign professional level writing bee. Thank you so so much for sharing it with us 🫶🫶🫶 I'm so lucky that it's a part of my life bc it genuinely is one of my fav things in it

You have a way of making me feel satisfied when I read your fic endings. Like. I hate it when stuff ends shfjfkf it's a problem of mine. I normally like will refuse to read/watch an ending bc I don't want it to end and also a lot of times??? I will just. Not like the ending. Either bc it's shit or the fact that it is an ending, but with your fics?? They've always been fucking amazing. I mean shfjgkf it def helps that there's another fic ur writing that I can read after this one's over, but for the actual ending part?? You write it so well man. It always ties up everything super nicely but not in like?? An unrealistic way where ur like "well that's just Too convenient". Like there's still enough of a question where the readers can leave it up to interpretation and come up with their own ideas, but all the major plot points are resolved and they all come together so nicely too?? And the last line is Always a banger. Ur so cool bee. Whenever I read the end of ur fic, I will literally smile bc im just like "aw man that's perfect" I SMILE!!! THAT'S CRAZY FOR ME NORMALLY IM SAD ITS OVER but with ur writing it's just like "damn holy shit that was perfect" rahhhssss I fucking love your writing Bee so so much

God and just... Glass is such a unique story too. Like ?? Cyberpunk religious trauma story?? Literally nothing I'd ever consume. I'm not the biggest fan of cyberpunk (I don't dislike it it's just not my preferred stuff to read) and as an agonistic person with religious trauma I normally avoid reading anything to do with religion LMAOODOFJFK (tho I've actually been trying to be more openminded and learn about all the diff types of religions and stuff) so I honestly was like "huh not sure what to expect from this fic but. It's bee so" And LORD I fucking??? Loved this fic??? So much??? Like I got so invested and I honestly really enjoyed the religious aspects of it a lot. It was such a fascinating topic like philosophy wise man. And oughhhfsjfk the way you used Wilbur vs Pronouns vs Pythia was genius. Like. That's such a creative tool to use?? Makes me appreciate writing sm. U just can't get this stuff in visual forms like tv/movies. It's just really neat seeing all the ways u play around with writing. It's super cool and impressive

Whenever I read ur writing it makes me feel like a smarter person tbh like. Just the way I turn my brain on to digest what you've written it's SOOO nice

And I am especially excited for rose bc I feel like my brain is gonna go haywire in that one too ehehehe also look at me go, finally reading a mcd fic (no literally bee. I haven't even read Passerine bc it's major character death. But I'm reading it for u. ^-^)

LORDDDFJFJ okay I gotta go do my french quiz now . And then I'll read rose ch2 BUT JUSR !!!!!!! UR AMAZING BEE !!!!! LOVE U AND UR WRITING SM !!!! TY FOR BEING EPIC ❤️❤️❤️🫶🫶🫶

awww thank you icy <3 this is so kind. I just love writing and always have, and it means so much that I have a supportive audience like you guys who are willing to read my silly stories

I'm so glad you like my endings. I always try to end my stories in just the right spot, when it feels like everything that needs to be said has been said while still leaving things open for the readers to imagine what comes next. I don't have super specific criteria for my endings, I just go with my gut on what feels right and it's worked out pretty well so far.

it makes me so happy that you took a chance on the kind of story you'd never normally read just because it was mine. I knew glass was a pretty unique concept because you don't usually see cyberpunk combined with those kinds of themes, so I was definitely a bit worried how many people would tune in for it. but I was so happy to find out that so many of you guys were willing to check it out because it was mine. like that seriously means so much to me to hear. I had such a fun time exploring those themes and emotions.

when I decided to do the pythia vs wilbur narration thing it felt like I was taking a huge risk. I was very worried that it would turn a lot of readers off to the story, but when I thought about the impact it could have as a format choice I knew I had to do it even if I lost some readers because of it. I really love experimenting with my writing and trying out new things, and as I'm sure you've noticed by now I have a particular affection for themes surrounding names and the power they hold. so it just felt like such a perfect way of diving into themes surrounding names while also getting a chance to experiment with format in a way I hadn't done before. I'm so glad it paid off well.

it means a lot that you're going to stick with under the hanging rose when you don't normally read MCD. I can't promise you won't be sad, but I can promise the MCD I have planned isn't going to be cheap or just angst fodder. it'll be narratively satisfying (or unsatisfying but in an intentional way lol)

thank you for all the love you give me icy this made me so happy to read <3 so glad you enjoyed

[dopepoisonivyoncrack]

Going for a blr comment instead of AO3 as I feel this might get lengthy. 

Firstly, something that has been popping in my mind while reading for a while and some lines in this chapter fully cement the feeling so I think it's well due that I say it. You write like Astarion loves. And the smut parts rise to the level of his lover skills. 

The rest of my thoughts here concern Ava (and Tav). *Taking a deep breath*:

It might be the way I got deeply invested in this story and how Tav is written in a way that I can connect ~100%, but Tav said to Ava here exactly what I thought of a few days ago. Almost word-for-word, I had to put down the phone for a break. 

“It is not. Whatever bond you think you share with him is superficial and frail. There's nothing to be jealous of.” 

*screaming and shaking like a chihuahua* Of course this is the kind of thing this Tav would say to her when accused of jealousy! I would also say she is right, especially because she is talking to Ava. 

That woman also had something to say that made me go up the walls anyway. In her talk about Astarion’s “devotion”, feeding on Tav and her experiment on the spawn, I got that she is hinting that Astarion’s feelings for Tav are actually, somehow, an effect of Tav’s blood. Like HOW DARE SHE??? 

Tav and us readers may not know enough to pass a judgment on Ava, not on her being a friend of foe, not on her as a person, which is one of the main frustrations BUT Lord, is every conversation with or about her full of red flags! Everything she says or does, the more it is exposed, while not enough to support accusations, is enough to sustain distrust, wariness, anxiety, anger, general feeling that something is not ok, maybe quite bad actually. I feel like she is manipulating Tav this whole conversation, while keeping Wyll out. It is clear what she wants now, what the knife and glass are for, she wasn’t even subtle. While Tav wouldn’t be one to agree to her proposition, I feel like she will now try to exploit Tav’s protectiveness towards Astarion, and it's enough to make fury bubble in me right behind the surface.

And her killing her companions and searching for Astarion to do all this now… again, not enough to pass judgment but doesn’t sound right at all. Instead of an explanation and assurance that she is not a foe, is quite the contrary. More like her “genuine care” for him is twisted, sick, and most importantly detached from who he is. Fundamentally different from Tav's feelings for Astarion, although in story a nice thing to make comparations. Ava sounds crazy…. which might explain why Astarion is ok with her company… and Tav may not know enough to judge why she killed her companions, or how she feels for Astarion, or their bond. But Ava doesn’t know about Astarion and Tav’s story either, not their travels, not their quest in Cazador’s palace, not their bond. She may know enough to try to exploit it, but not to appreciate its true value and depth. I don’t believe her saying she would stop if Astarion asked, I don’t believe her change of heart is with good intentions, not towards Astarion, or the other spawns, not towards Tav. Even if she thinks its for good, her very perception of what is good seems twisted at best... in which case, given she seems also smart and cunning, makes her feel so dangerous.

Ava does feel complex and intriguing as a character. She obviously is great enough to keep my mind busy…busy rotating her like a pig on a spit above fire, anyway. Chewing on her character as we speak.

Thank you for providing us with such delectable story and new characters! I love it so so much, this fic has me in a chokehold

The Arrangement (8) - Revelations

Chapter summary: You finally confront Ava, but the conversation takes an unexpected turn.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: Innuendo. Mentions of abuse and trauma.

Word count: 5.3k

Series Masterlist

You found him by the edge of a cliff overlooking Baldur's Gate.

The first rays of light began to spill into the morning sky in hues of yellow fused with orange. You would never tire of watching the city you called home being engulfed in such beauty.

“Enjoying the view?”

Astarion was holding a somewhat mellow smile on his lips as he turned to face you.

“I hadn't seen this much colour bathing the city in over two hundred years.”

You stopped next to him, looping an arm around his and resting your face against his shoulder.

“It's beautiful, isn't it?”

He sighed. “I do not want to get too attached to it. In case things go awry, that is.”

‘Awry’ meaning that he wouldn't be able to ascend…

It always made your heart clench to think about how much Astarion still held on to that.

But you didn't want to think about such things for now.

For now, you were more than content to share this moment with him.

“The sun looks beautiful on you,” you said truthfully.

It wasn't exactly a challenge, but you adored praising and stroking his ego.

A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. “As most things do, darling."

"That is true.”

He then placed his cold hand atop yours. “As you once did.”

His words hit you with such force that you felt your chest too heavy all of a sudden.

You glanced up at him, meeting his soft crimson eyes. “Astarion…”

Would he ever move on?

Would he ever move on from you?

He offered a defeated smile. “I know, I know. Just friends, right?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He didn't utter another word as he looked on ahead.

You kept your grip around him, enjoying his firmness and how he made you feel so safe and comfortable.

Deep down, you were just thankful he couldn't see the single tear that streamed down your face.

The cold and wet trail brought you back to witness the sight of the sun emerging on the horizon line. 

You pulled your legs up so you could rest your chin on your knees, hugging yourself as the breathtaking view filled your vision.

How you wished you could share this with him like many times before.

As lovers.

As friends.

You wiped the tear away with the back of your hand as sadness spread inside you.

There was no point in dwelling in the impossible. At least until you found a way for him to experience all the colour the world had to offer with no limitations.

Sleep hadn't come to you this night and it wasn't because of nightmares or the fact that Astarion had left you painfully yearning for his touch.

Your mind was just all over the place, trying to make sense of how things felt with him after that conversation.

Truth be told, you were more than happy with the occasional intimacy and giving him space.

But his taunting words still lingered in your mind.

You were certain he craved more than a friendship, but how much of that spread beyond carnal lust was something you weren't sure about.

Maybe even Astarion didn't know.

As much as you longed for more, you still wanted to mend your friendship first and bridge the distance that had come between you two. 

As you pushed yourself from the bed and slipped into your robe, you took a quick glance at the mirror in front of you.

Eyes puffy and reddened paired with deep eyebags.

Wonderful.

You heaved a deep sigh as you exited the room, heading towards the kitchen area to brew some tea.

The door to his room was firmly shut and you hurried past it with bare feet.

The entire house was still swallowed in silence and darkness.

You quickly lit up a few candles before reigniting the fireplace and putting the kettle on.

The familiar squeak of the door to his room filled your ears.

As the water came to a boil, you poured a few herbs inside the cup as you poured the scalding liquid.

You heard him call out your name and your stomach immediately fluttered as he came into view, slowly pacing towards you.

“How did you know it was me?”

Astarion's lips curled into a smile. “I know the sound of your footsteps by heart.”

There was no trace of deceit in his remark.

His voice rang true and not as a mere attempt at flustering you with honeyed words.

He meant it and you felt the warm embrace of his presence tightly enveloping you.

Astarion had learned the way to your heart like no one else had ever tried to. 

He could crawl under your skin and have you yearn for him like no one else could.

And he did all of this effortlessly and like second nature.

You returned a warm smile, feeling the addictive embrace of his presence.

He felt like the home you longed to come back to.

As you moved to sit on the sofa nearby, enjoying the warmth that radiated from the cup in your hands, he eventually sat next to you, crimson eyes meeting yours and, for a moment, you held your breath.

He was your home.

“You look horrible.”

A snarky one.

You chuckled at his bluntness, taking a sip. “Didn't get much sleep.”

“Nightmares again?”

“No. My mind was just busy…”

He slowly nodded. “Was it too much? What we did?”

You glared at him in surprise. “What? No. What about you?”

His eyes narrowed. “I wanted more.”

“That doesn't answer my question.”

He crossed his legs, adjusting his elegant shirt. “It wasn't nearly enough.”

“You were the one to stop it…”

“Because I had to. Gods know how long it took to… calm down, so to speak.”

The implication that dangled from his words wasn't particularly subtle.

Oh.

Oh.

Your cheeks flared up. “I… didn't hear you…”

Astarion flashed a teasing smile. “I know how to avoid being heard, unlike a certain someone.”

Bad timing had you nearly choking on your tea.

“Careful, darling. You'll get all wet… again.”

The nerve!

You shot him murderous glare, wiping your chin.

Then the two fell into a comfortable silence.

You melted into the backrest of the sofa, cradling the cup in your hands, humming a tune that you had almost forgotten about.

“I find myself missing our journey, you know?” he said after a while.

“Even having to play the hero?”

He tapped his chin pensively. “Even that, as surprising as it sounds. I could have done without all your ridiculous acts of heroism, but I grew to enjoy indulging in some of them.”

Your heart thudded happily at his honesty.

“Who would have thought that you’d find joy in being selfless,” you teased with a smile.

He lifted one finger. “Do not misunderstand. I still come first. I spent too many centuries not being able to and I won't give that up now.”

You nodded, fully understanding his line of thinking.

In the meantime, your hand had dropped in between you two and you felt coldness reach your fingers.

You looked down, startled, only to be met with his fingers gently brushing against yours.

And just like clockwork, your heart sped up.

Astarion had his eyes fixed on the swirling flames that emanated from the fireplace.

Little by little, his fingers began to intertwine with yours until his hand gripped you tightly.

Your mind blanked for a moment at how unexpected this was.

In time, his cold skin began to warm up against yours.

And then it dawned on you that he had never held your hand this way.

He had helped you up on your feet more times than you could count.

He had gripped your hand in his as both of you hurried along collapsing halls and while being chased by the most vicious of creatures.

But he had never held your hand as if seeking for silent comfort.

You shifted so you could rest your head on his shoulder.

He tensed slightly under your touch, but eventually relaxed and you seized the opportunity to melt into his side, enjoying the familiar scent of bergamot and rosemary.

Home.

You weren't sure how much time had passed, but the tear in your cup had gone tepid and you began to feel guilty.

You had considered not telling him about confronting Ava.

But you didn't want to lie and hide anything from him, especially if it concerned him in the first place.

You pulled slightly away from him and he met your gaze.

“I'm going to meet Ava tonight.”

You expected an angry outburst of indignation from him, but were met with an inquisitive glare instead.

“Why doesn't that surprise me at all?”

That was it?

“Wait… you are not going to talk me out of it?”

At this, he faintly chuckled, still firmly gripping your hand in his.

“Honestly, darling, when has that ever worked?”

Point taken.

He knew of your stubbornness all too well.

“Besides, do you intend on killing her?”

You widened your eyes. “I – no? I don't think so?”

Though you couldn't swear on this until you were actually absolutely sure she was as harmless as he claimed her to be.

“Then, you have my blessing.”

You then narrowed your eyes suspiciously at him. “You don't even want to go with me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“It's not necessary.”

He shrugged. “Then I won't.”

Astarion was acting uncharacteristically accepting of your intrusion, and that rang a plethora of alarm bells in your head.

It was as if he knew you'd have no reason to harm her.

“Why are you so… calm about this?”

His eyes met yours. “I am well aware you can turn Ava into a pile of dust should she cross your path. But I don't believe you will do such a thing.”

“Why not? I don't trust her.”

His grip around your fingers eased slightly. “I don't expect you to, but you do trust me, don't you?”

“Yes.”

You didn't hesitate for a second. After all, you had trusted Astarion through things that most people would have staked him for. The two of you were way past the uncertainty of not trusting each other's intentions.

It was more evident that the glaring issue that plagued your relationship was rooted in miscommunication and not mistrust.

“And I trust her.”

That ground on your nerves. “But why?”

“Because I have to.”

You immediately dropped his hand, turning in your seat to fully face him, already feeling the familiar irritation that came with him not being fully open with you at times.

“Astarion, you need to start telling me why you hold her in such high regards,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You can also trust me. Whatever it is… just tell me.”

He glared at you with a faint scowl. “She is taking my blood with the intention of lessening some vampirism weaknesses.”

Oh?

“Such as?”

“Well, the insatiable hunger is the main focus.”

You stared at him in silence, not quite sure what to make of this.

The Wish Spell could grant him the ability to walk in the sun again, but this seemed even more ambitious.

And dangerous.

“Obviously, this is all rather theoretical, but it seemed like a sound prospect,” he went on, sinking into the sofa with an exasperated sigh. “As selfish as I am, I also considered how this could be helpful to the spawn in the Underdark.”

His words took you quite aback.

“This… seems too good to be true,” you said hesitantly.

“Oh, I'm aware. That is why I am keeping my expectations in check.”

You really, really wanted to hate Ava.

But if her motifs were truly this altruistic, then you were going to have a hard justifying that feeling, which provided another added layer of anger altogether.

“So, if you want to talk to her, you are free to do so. Seeing is believing or so they say,” he said with a witty grin.

You sighed.

Astarion was a bad planner.

No. He was a terrible planner.

He could identify the end goal, but would have no clue how to get there and would merely make adjustments as he went along, hoping for the best.

Luck had been on his side as of late, but you lacked that optimism.

And he obviously saw that splattered across your face.

“Oh, please. I know that look – just say it,” he scoffed.

You weren't even sure what you wanted to say.

Deep down, you felt extremely protective of him and didn't appreciate that she was exchanging lessons in intimacy for his blood.

It all seemed very one-sided and the promise of also helping him – and by extension, the spawn in the underdark – still seemed unrealistically… convenient.

“Are you even sure any of this will work? Has she made any progress with your blood?”

“Some progress. Not enough to keep me too hopeful, but I will take anything these days.”

You could sympathise with the sentiment, but…

“I still think there is something off about her.”

Astarion just looked as amused as ever. “No jealousy?”

You rolled your eyes. “No.”

“Well, she would have nothing to gain from sending us both to prison,” he said. “She knows I exclusively feed on you and that I do need to feed regularly.”

The nonchalant way in which he uttered those words, brought a wave of heat to your face, as the events from a few hours earlier resurfaced in your mind.

There was a hint of intimacy in the act itself, but also in the aftermath. Astarion's senses would be sharpened as your blood coursed through his body.

“Seems like I broke your concentration, darling,” he said teasingly, effectively snapping you from your thoughts.

You jolted briefly and then scowled, annoyed that he could see right through you so easily.

“Don't flatter yourself.”

He gave you a devious smile. “I don't have to. Not when your body provides the finest flattery there is.”

Gods.

You wished you could turn off the effect his honeyed words always had on you.

Clearing your throat, you straightened up in your seat. “Very well, then. I am willing to be enlightened.”

A teasing smile tugged faintly at his lips. “Good girl.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

Regaining your composure, you said, “Wyll is going there with me tonight.”

Astarion drew a sleazy grin this time. “Oh, so that was what the two of you were plotting yesterday.”

You rolled your eyes.

“And here I thought sweet Wyll had finally mustered the courage to take you out on a lavish date,” he said with a dramatic and forceful pout. “Seems like romance is dead, after all.”

For some odd reason, Astarion was under the impression that Wyll harboured feelings for you that surpassed friendship.

But what Astarion didn't know was that your heart was too full of him to allow room for anyone else.

His taunting words created the perfect opening for you to return the gesture.

“No jealousy?”

His smile only grew wider. “Do you want me to be jealous?”

You were entering his territory, and should tread lightly. 

“Maybe you should be jealous,” you whispered.

He shifted closer to you and you held your breath.

“And why is that? Why should I be jealous of your friendship with him?”

Gods, he was good .

Your heart drummed faster in your chest as his face drew near.

He was a master at disarming you with carefully laid out traps whilst using his words as alluring bait.

“He's very… friendly.”

You inwardly cringed at your ridiculous remark, which earned a chuckle from Astarion.

At this point, he was so close you almost feel his cool lips on yours.

“Well, hopefully not this friendly.”

That was it.

He was going to kiss you and you couldn't give a damn about it.

But before he could do so, the faint rhythmic thud of footsteps pulled you out of immersion, and the two of you pulled apart at once.

Lae'zel.

She reached the bottom of the staircase, eyeing both of you like she had just run into the most disappointing event of her life.

“The sun has yet to fully rise, and the two of you are already at it again,” she said with a scowl. “Wasn't the coupling from last night enough?”

Your jaw dropped open in sheer mortification.

Surely she hadn't… heard anything… right?

“Where is your sense of decorum, Lae'zel?” Astarion clicked his tongue, leaning back against the sofa once more.

She gave him a stern glare. “You wouldn't know decorum if it hit you in that pale face of yours, Astarion.”

He chuckled. “My, my… someone is feisty today.”

“The sounds you two made could raise the dead from their graves,” she said, moving swiftly towards the front door with her sword keeping her company. “I am not sure how much more of this torture I can take.”

You stood up at once, feeling embarrassment take over. “Oh! We… uh… Astarion was just feeding and–”

She held a hand up. “Spare me the grotesque details. I'll be going out on a hunt. Don't expect me for lunch.”

And without a further exchange, she slipped through the door.

Astarion was now on his feet and heading towards the staircase.

Somehow, you couldn't help but feel a tad of disappointment as he left your side.

His company was something you reckoned you'd never tire from.

“See you later, darling. And do fix that lovely face of yours,” he teased dramatically. “Rose water works like a charm.”

And you couldn't hold back an endearing smile.

The night came quicker than you had hoped.

Confronting Ava made you feel truly uneasy, especially after learning some more about her.

As promised, Wyll had come to you, escorted by two Fists. The mage slayer stationed outside, quickly joined the four of you, and you felt the magic within you dip dangerously low from her presence.

The journey to The Blushing Mermaid proved to be rather uneventful and you were more than thankful for it.

“Does Astarion know about this?”

You nodded. “He has also told me the reason why she's taking his blood.”

Wyll's eyes met yours and you could see the tension on his face. “Whatever could be the reason?”

Fortunately, the two Fists walked far behind the two of you to preserve some privacy.

“She wants to lessen the effects of vampiric hunger.”

He arched an eyebrow and you approached the familiar tavern.

“That sounds too convenient .”

You almost pulled Wyll into a kiss as he unknowingly validated your concerns.

“Exactly. Maybe I am overthinking it, but I need to make sure nonetheless.”

He nodded firmly.

Those crowding the entrance immediately made way for you to walk inside, and you heard a few salutes as others inside bowed to Wyll.

Bork approached the counter with a tilted smile on his face. “Duke of Ravengard. To what do we owe the pleasure? Hope we are not in trouble?”

A few drunkards nearby erupted in laughter.

“Unless you have indeed done something unlawful, I wouldn't worry too much, Bork.”

He offered Wyll a forced smile, which he didn't return.

“We are looking for Ava,” you chimed in impatiently.

His face instantly dropped. “Ava? Is she in trouble?"

Honestly, what was with everyone and this woman? Was she some goddess in disguise?

“We just wish to talk to her,” Wyll answered.

Bork hesitated at first, but glared at the two Fists flanking you. “First floor. Third room to your left.”

You nodded and swiftly made your way upstairs, feeling your heart hammering fast in your chest as you paced along the corridor.

Wyll knocked thrice on the large door.

It swung open almost immediately, and Ava came into view, holding a knowing smile.

“I was expecting you.”

A swirl of nausea settled in your stomach.

She extended one hand, standing to the side so you could walk in.

“As pleased as I am to be visited by our Duke, I shall ask for you not to enter.”

You immediately turned to see Wyll scowl deeply. “Tonight I'm no Duke – I'm her friend and you shall let me enter.”

Ava tapped on the door lightly. “These are my quarters, and unless I am being charged with wrongdoing, I have the right to decide who to invite inside, Duke .”

The two Fists were gripping the handle of their swords, ready to draw them.

Wyll motioned for the to be at ease and turned his head to you. “I will be waiting outside.”

Ava wiggled her fingers dismissively, further gnawing at your nerves.

“Do not try anything witty, hunter,” Wyll said in a tone you hadn't heard since he last faced Mizora.

She chuckled. “I have abandoned those ways. You may simply call me Ava.”

But before he could reply, she pushed the door closed in one swing and glanced at you with an excessively sweet smile.

“So? I don't believe you came all the way here to simply gawk at me.”

You cleared your throat. “I have a few things I need to discuss with you.”

“Of course. I would be surprised if you didn't.”

Your patience was running thin.

“It concerns Astarion.”

“Still not surprised,” she said with a tilted smile. “I'm all ears.”

“He's told me about you.”

“Hopefully not everything, but do go on.”

She moved to a table and poured a red liquid into a goblet. “Can I tempt you with some red wine?”

You scowled and she laughed. “It is not poisoned, though I do understand your hesitation.” She then took a long sip.

Glancing around the room, you realised it could easily pass off as the inside of an apothecary store. There were endless rows of shelves and cupboards that housed countless vials of glass with suspicious content.

There was a small fire burning by the window with a large flask set right above, the flames barely reaching the bottom as a deep dark red liquid gurgled.

Ava sat on a lavish armchair, holding the goblet to her lips.

“I know you're taking his blood for some experiment in regards to vampirism,” you began, keeping your voice steady. “Even to supposedly help the vampire spawn in the Underdark.”

Her pleasant face wavered momentarily. “He's offering it to me. Freely.”

“You are taking advantage of him.”

“I am not taking advantage of anything. It's a mere transaction that we have both agreed upon.”

“Blood for intimacy?”

“That seems rather… crass.”

“You are taking advantage of his… wounds…”

“Why are you so hellsbent on accusing me of being the one taking advantage of him? He also has much to win from this arrangement.”

“Because you have the upper hand here. The price for a chance at healing from his wounds seems rather unbalanced,” you said, feeling heat flare throughout your entire body. “You get his blood, which is a sure thing, and he gets a ‘perhaps’ on all fronts: intimacy and that hunger “cure” you're promising.”

Ava glared at you with eyes slightly narrowed, chin resting on the back of her hand.

“There are wounds that take time to heal. Some never heal at all, my dear.”

“I'm aware.”

“Are you? Are you, really?” Ava said with a scoff. “I am not the enemy here. Your vitriol against me is rooted in something primal.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Primal?”

“Is it jealousy, I wonder?”

You clenched your fists. “It is not. Whatever bond you think you share with him is superficial and frail. There's nothing to be jealous of.”

“Actually, I do believe your words… it is not jealousy, indeed,” she said, tapping a long nail on her chin. “But rather… protectiveness.”

You remained silent.

“I dare say that protectiveness can blind even the wisest.”

“I am not blinded. I can see there is something unsettling about you.”

“You look, but you do not see,” she said as she took a sip of her wine. “Your attachment to him is your weakness.”

“Caring for others isn't a weakness.”

“You taught him that, did you?”

The faint mockery wasn't lost on you, and it made your nails dig further into your palms, regning in your temper as best as you could.

“He doesn't need to be taught anything. Astarion may need some guidance, as we all do from time to time.”

Ava merely chuckled. “May I see your neck?”

What?

Her words caught you off guard, but you did not move an inch to comply with her request.

“Ah… your reluctance is answer enough,” she tutted. “He has fed on you recently, hasn't he?”

Now, that immediately had your stomach turn in revulsion, realising just how transparent she truly was.

“So this is what it's all about – you just want him to feed on you instead.”

Ava rolled her eyes with a forced yawn. “On the contrary. Of course, I have vaguely wondered what it feels like, but Astarion is far too devoted to your blood to even entertain the idea.”

“Then why did you complain to me about him not feeding on you?”

She crossed her legs elegantly under her emerald green dress. “I was merely taunting you. Again, his devotion gets in the way.”

“I wouldn't necessarily call it ‘devotion’.”

“Oh, but I would. See, Astarion's bond to you is exquisite and much welcome… to say the least.”

Her flowery words were really testing your patience now.

“Elaborate.”

“The last time he fed on you and gave me his blood was right when you left The Blushing Mermaid. A few days later, I tried his blood on some spawn in the city outskirts that have taken to living underground in search of a cure.” She paused briefly to take yet another sip from the goblet. “The results were vastly different from my previous experiments.”

“Can you just get straight to the point for once?”

“Oh, you really are a feisty one…” Ava said with a teasing smile. “As I was saying, the results were rather interesting and unexpected. The spawn reported feeling sated much quicker than before, but the effect wore off in the first hour, which was a disappointment.”

You froze instantly. “You're… using my blood?”

“Well, yes… and no,” she said in a casual tone. “Your blood mixed with his, that is. Before that day, I had never tried his blood after he fed on you.”

You felt as though you might be sick as your stomach lurched violently.

“This is… I – does he know?”

“Well, I haven't been given the chance, considering how the two of you got thrown into prison,” she said with a shrug. “And I am fully aware you think I am somehow responsible for it.”

You were still so taken aback by her earlier revelation, that you had momentarily forgotten about that detail.

“Now, what would I gain from setting you two up, especially after I just told you this.”

She did have a point.

Seemingly.

“You mentioned other spawn – why not use their blood instead? Why his?”

“Oh, darling… ” 

The way that word rolled out of her tongue grated on your nerves, and you realised only one person could masterfully use it without provoking a visceral reaction.

“Astarion isn't really your regular spawn, is he? Even when he was under Cazador Szarr's influence, he would still rebel against his commands while his siblings cowered in fear of defying their master.”

An overwhelming sense of dread took over at once.

Astarion has revealed how Cazador had kept him buried alive for a whole year as punishment for letting a potential victim go.

He had clawed his hands raw from despair as he wished for death to just take him.

Even remembering this vaguely, made your heart hurt for him.

“How do you know that?”

Ava rose to her full height, brushing her long and dark curls from her shoulders.

She paced towards a desk and began ruffling through pieces of parchment.

“I was a monster hunter for over twenty years and my group kept a close eye on Cazador and his spawn,” she said, not lifting her eyes. “Astarion had been on our radar for a while, but he was quite experienced in slipping through the cracks whenever we tried to go after him.”

You swallowed.

“Imagine our surprise when he suddenly goes missing. My partners were dumbfounded beyond belief. No vampire spawn is able to resist the compell of their master for that long.”

She then moved back to the armchair, flipping through a couple of scrolls.

“We thought he had met his demise somehow, so imagine my surprise when I find out that he's back in Baldur's Gate. Walking in the sunlight and next to… you.”

You weren't sure where this conversation was headed and you weren't sure you wanted to know.

Ava took your silence as encouragement. “Cazador was attempting to become the Vampire Ascendant and we were set on stopping him, but were instead met with his manor bathed in blood and corpses littering the place.”

So they had gotten there after your group stopped the ritual and prevented the rite from taking place.

“So now you're suddenly an alchemist who wants to help vampire spawn? Why the change of heart?”

Ava met your eyes and her face was void of any amusement. “Astarion and I connect in more ways than you think.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms and waiting to hear some circus clown reasoning.

“I wasn't a monster hunter by choice,” she said sternly. “I was born into it and molded into their ways.”

Your defensive demeanour wavered momentarily.

“I shall not go into details, but all you need to know is that once Cazador Szarr was gone, I was driven by curiosity and sought Astarion out so I could learn more about what makes him so different from all the other spawn I've come across.”

You narrowed your eyes at her. “So you just left your group? Just like that?”

She snickered. “They were killed.”

“What? By whom?”

She snickered as she took another sip. “By me.”

You were left speechless.

“I thought that if a vampire spawn could break the chains from his master and embrace freedom again, so could I.”

She let out a chuckle, emptying the goblet in one sip.

“So, I offered to help him as he's helped me. No more, no less.”

You really wanted to hate her.

You wanted her to give you a solid reason to be suspicious of her intentions.

But…

“So you genuinely care for him?”

She nodded. “I do. And if Astarion were to walk through that door and ask for us to part ways, I would accept it. It would essentially kill my research until I found someone remotely adequate, but I would make peace with it.”

This conversation had not taken the turn you expected.

At all.

“I can see the confusion in your eyes. You truly believed I am out to get you when I'm probably your best option right now.”

“Best option? In regards to what?”

She extended her arm towards a chair in front of her. “Take a seat.”

You did so, reluctantly, never letting your guard down and her out of your sight.

“Cazador Szarr had many enemies, but he also had many allies. People who were not pleased with his death.”

She now had your undivided attention and you felt your palms sweat.

There wad actually someone going after you? After Astarion?

“I have ways to find who they are.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” you immediately asked, feeling rather unsettled by her words.

She clicked her tongue. “I need assurances first, and I have a proposition to make.”

You saw the flash of a knife emerging from her sleeve and a tall glass container being placed on the table by her side.

TBC

Ao3

Series Masterlist

[rambunctious-cr0w]

Reread Thoughts: Acts 1-2

I'm doing a homestuck reread! Yay! I'm writing down things I notice as I go (in an attempt reduce the amount that I spam my friends with messages), so here's a loosely organized collection of some of those thoughts for acts 1 and 2. I'll keep posting these as I get further as well.

Overall reflection that maybe only makes sense to me:

Homestuck charades as a cookie-cutter text-based fantasy adventure game, both from the POV of the reader actually reading the comic because of its visual style, writing and construction; and from within SBURB from the POV of the characters. The kids aren’t introduced as real people per say, but flat characters as if from a shallow, short, text based adventure. The characters don’t engage with the ridiculousness of their situation or the contrivances that make it happen, and that’s ok for the reader because they are introduced as characters, not as people who happen to be characters. They aren’t really introduced as being meant to be interrogated or conceptualized as real people. The plot is a too-obvious chosen-one, call to adventure, save the world type pattern. The subversion is when, on these incredibly shaky and thin foundations, all of homestuck happens. The characters continue to be exposited and explored beyond their formulaic introductions and become deeply three-dimensional. The plot is scaffolded on top of the mechanics of SBURB, not within them. This is the fundamental joke of homestuck.

Other random bullshit:

I forgot they said this in the first 40 pages lmao

I understand why people say the artstyle is difficult to like. Like yeah this shit a little bit sucks.

I somehow didn't realize start of act 6 was an explicit reference

Its crazy how every joke in the first few hundred pages is expanded upon for hundreds of pages in the later three quarters. It really seems like they were just writing random bits at the beginning then later they turned them into plot points. I love this.

No one talks about how there are other SBURB sessions that are implied to have like, worked, with players entering the medium. Are a lot of universes are being created I guess? Is that the implication? But if Karkat is right that he "gave the whole universe cancer," then would those also be unwinnable sessions? But they don't produce Bec Noir so idk.

I found this funny. They convey the tone of Rose's writing so well.

THERE HE ISSSS THE GUYYYYY

Hey! It's the guy this blog is named after!

The pages here and a few after are actually the funniest in the comic

Jk maybe this is the funniest exchange

Space player moment

WV: Ascend is really the page that makes me go ok I'm invested for real now. Like sure we were having fun up until this point but now we're locked in.

[themovieblogonline]

ARTICLE 370: The True Story Of Politics And Terrorism In Kashmir

Kashmir was once a heaven on earth. Now, our generation fears visiting that very heaven. Why? Nobody, not even the bravest of the brave, would like to get shot by some Jihad-crazy terrorist or become a victim of brainwashed stone pelters all of a sudden while on a family holiday trip! When filmmakers invest a few crores in making a movie and their gross business reaches several hundred crores, that’s when that film gains the status of a “public film”. It is then you can address that movie to be superhit! Ask the makers of “URI” and “The Kashmir Files”. Anti-terrorism movies are on their hype in India and from that same anti-terrorism genre comes award-winning writer and director Aditya Suhas Jambhale’s “Article 370”. Starring Yami Gautam and Priyamani, the thrilling film made its theatrical debut on February 23, 2024. The History Of Article 370 Narrated By Ajay Devgn: How Pakistan Illegally Occupied Part Of Kashmir After Independence https://youtu.be/iBfc3Y7bOVw?si=suvwmltDmY5BRhRY Article 370 is bound to make history in Indian cinema after URI and The Kashmir Files. The story is depicted from the eyes of a Kashmiri woman who wants to destroy the demons who are invading this “heaven” in India. Who are these demons? The Jihadi terrorists or the brainwashed protestors pelting stones at innocent people in Kashmir. No! They are just puppets at the hands of the real demons, some powerful and corrupt politicians who actually support and drive them. The Revolution Begins: Poora Ka Poora KASHMIR BHARAT Desh ka Hissa THA, HAIN Aur RAHEGA! https://youtu.be/w3YF9cMglAM?si=0k99vQP_zYt0ut2n In URI, it was Vicky Kaushal eradicating terrorists in Pakistan-Occupied Kashmir (POK), which was a true surgical operation conducted by India at the POK where Indian commandos entered and destroyed every terrorist hiding in the region. Now, Yami Gautam takes the lead in Jambhale’s Article 370 as a secret agent to overpower terrorism in Kashmir. Stay tuned readers, because this is also a true story like URI! India, from time to time, has taken on brutal and parasitic terrorists who have invaded and plagued Kashmir. Article 370 (2024) Official Trailer: https://youtu.be/6Pf6RUmq7S0?si=KR4s4bmardcZZf6i The Good: In Hindu Mythology, Gods used divine weapons to destroy powerful demons who tried to invade heaven. But we, the people of India, have one divine weapon that can overpower any form of demonic act like terrorism in our motherland. That divine weapon is our Indian Constitution. However, the twist in the tale of Article 370 lies in the fact that the law and order and the powerful politicians are actually supporting and saving terrorism in Kashmir. Again, in Hindu Mythology, I will tell you the tale of an immortal demon known as “Raktbeej”. Raktbeej could generate his clones from his drops of blood that fell to the ground. That made him invincible and no God could defeat or kill him. Whenever some God tried to slay Raktbeej, he would regenerate back into multiple clones. So, the more they killed, the more clones of Raktbeej emerged! That’s when Goddess Kaali took form and drank all of his blood. No blood in his body left Raktbeej incapable of regenerating his clones. Goddess Kaali destroyed all the remaining clones of Raktbeej by drinking their blood as well. This strategy of Goddess Kaali put an end to the demon. In Article 370, terrorism and corrupt politicians denote the demon Raktbeej, and Yami Gautam’s daredevil female character signifies Goddess Kaali. But in Kaliyug, a single Goddess can’t defeat such a humongous demon like terrorism. So, we have Yami Gautam and Priyamani, who act as two powerful Goddesses to overpower this evil. The best part is that there are no heroes in this film and unlike other Bollywood movies, women here take the lead. They are no longer decorative showpieces for heroes to romance. They have their own superpowers and that’s what you call true women empowerment! Yami has given an insanely powerful performance as a daring secret agent giving the terrorists in Kashmir a massive blow from a woman’s fists. Her remarkable performance can give you goosebumps if you are a true patriot. In a scene, she explains the situation of terrorism that has plagued Kashmir. Whether Article 370 is to be abrogated from the Indian Constitution or not, the answer to this question you will get from the look in her eyes once you watch this mystery-thriller. https://youtu.be/H_dhWRxR2rI?si=QS8ixb8F4pmItj3Q I also must appreciate Jambhale’s efforts in making Article 370 an entertaining cinematic experience rather than a history lecture class. Film presentations showcasing India’s history can be tough and if not presented properly, they can turn out pretty boring! But not the case with Article 370. I have to say, after many years I have watched such an interesting as well as daring movie where the filmmakers have shown politics running side by side with terrorism. In short, they didn’t care to hide anything about this true story and that’s worth appreciating. A thrilling film that in my words, is more real than reality! Politics with terrorism! The film’s unique narrative has been blended with cryptic and convincing visuals, mind-blowing suspense, genuine emotions, and exciting action. It has been presented very cleverly where we can see Parliamentary disputes running parallelly with terrorism. https://youtu.be/kWzm1qBjOQQ?si=4wEbi86SjdEaN9i6 The Bad: The only complaint I have with Article 370 is that the makers could have considered highlighting the negative characters more prominently in terms of their evil behaviors and intentions. That would have made the drama even livelier. Moreover, Article 370 has been banned in Gulf and Islamic countries. The Verdict: “Poora Ka Poora KASHMIR BHARAT Desh ka Hissa THA, HAIN Aur RAHEGA!” It is an undeniable fact that the entire state of Kashmir belongs to India! Pakistanis are illegally occupying the POK territory along with gifting a portion called “Aksai Chin” to its ally, China. Trust me, if you want to experience an engaging story that reveals the true situation of terrorism and bloodshed in Kashmir, then you can go for Article 370. But, if you are still not convinced with the story, then you can consider not wasting your hard-earned money at the theater show. https://youtu.be/g8pxqZtnqxE?si=yPwOqunDPLLXxO_W Read the full article

[arvandus]

🎉750!!🎉

Congrats on the milestone!! I’m so happy to see your blog growing because I really do think you deserve it! 💖💖💖

I hope you’re still accepting requests for your event. I can’t decide between Hawks (who I love) and Dabi (who you write so well ❤️) so I’ll let you pick whichever gives you more inspiration. Anyway, can I have “best friends to lovers” headcanons for whoever you decide on?

Thanks and congrats again!!! 😘

Thank you so much! 💕 I will totally write Hawks for you! I've actually been really enjoying writing his character, he's one of my favorite to write for. :) Sorry if this got a bit long.... you know how I am... Hawks x Reader (Friends to Lovers)

🪶 Keigo has never had a shortage of ‘friends.’ That doesn’t mean that any of those friendships are meaningful, though. Fame is like that. Everyone wants to know you, wants to be close to you, to use the word ‘friend’ like a VIP ticket, not realizing that the word has lost its meaning, its value cheapened by fake smiles and invasive questions.

🪶 Which is why meeting you is so interesting.

🪶 The first thing Keigo notices about you is that you’re nice. Not the kind of ‘nice’ that’s used as a tool, that screams of shallowness fueled by selfish motive. No, your kindness comes from within, and it is given to everyone. It is just a part of who you are, genuine goodness wrapped in a gentle smile.

🪶 The second thing he notices is that, unlike so many others, you don’t go out of your way to throw yourself at him. You smile and greet him when you see him, ask him how he’s doing, but you never try to push anything past that. You never try to take more than he’s willing to give.

🪶 It almost makes him feel normal, whatever that means. He’s not familiar with normal, never has been. He’s good at faking it, of course… but real normalcy? What even is that?

🪶 Whatever it is he’s feeling, he likes it.

🪶 Keigo enjoys the gradual slow pace of your growing friendship. It’s a nice contrast to his fast lifestyle. When he’s around you, everything slows down and he can breathe.

🪶 He starts spending more time with you, meeting up for lunches and going out for drinks after.

🪶 Boy, do the tabloid papers enjoy that… rumors fly faster than Hawks’ feathers.

🪶 He 100% gets in trouble with his PR manager; after all, he’s supposed to be Japan’s #1 bachelor.

🪶 The two of you laugh about it though. You two? An item? Please. You’re just good friends.

🪶 The friendship doesn’t grow to best friend level until you two start hanging out in the privacy of your homes. It’ll be small, casual things at first - maybe he’ll come by to pick up the jacket he lent you. Or maybe you’ll drop off some cookies you baked. It’ll happen gradually, naturally. A lunch here, a movie night there.

🪶 Once that happens, Keigo starts opening up more to you. After all, there are no paparazzi watching him, no clicking of cameras, no risk of conversations being recorded. It’s slow going and be patient with him - he’s likely never had this level of friendship before. You open up to him too, and it only brings you two closer together as you two build your trust.

🪶 Once that trust is established, you become the center of his world. He doesn’t realize it though, at least not right away. He just knows that he wants to be around you. All. The. Time.

🪶 Keigo suddenly starts seeing you differently. You shine a bit brighter, catching his eye whenever you’re in his presence. He becomes super invested in your happiness, more so than ever before. He’ll do anything to see you smile, and keep finding reasons to be around you. He might even get a little protective.

🪶 He finally gets his epiphany that he’s falling for you when he drops something work-related when you desperately need him. He’s never done that before, and he notices. Somehow you’ve become his top priority. More important than hero work, more important than anything.

🪶 Cue Keigo’s internal panic. He suddenly realizes how vulnerable you make him and he’s not sure how to feel about that.

🪶 Don’t be surprised if he pulls away at first. Love is scary if you’ve never felt it before. Especially like this.

🪶 Keigo’s entire identity has been defined by his work as a hero. He’s had nothing else. He was literally trained into this role. Suddenly his identity becomes more than that. It becomes tied to you.

🪶 He’s going to be grappling with a lot of guilt and fear. Does he even know how to be more than just a hero? Is it possible to make space for you in his crazy life? And what about you? Could you really handle the pressure that his fame might bring on you? You’ve already dealt with it somewhat as his friend, but handling it as his partner will be so, so different. Most importantly… could he even be enough for you? Sure he’s a famous hero. But deep down he’s just…. Keigo: a lonely man from a broken childhood. When all is said and done, what does he really have to offer?

🪶 It’ll take him some time. Eventually though, he’ll come around. Especially once he realizes that he’s on the verge of losing you (he did ghost you for a while after all…).

🪶 When he finally does come to terms with his feelings for you, he’ll show up unannounced at your door.

🪶 First words: “I’m sorry.”

🪶 Maybe you’ll need time to talk to him. Or maybe you’ll accept him right away. That part is up to you. But when you do finally accept his apology and he learns that not only are you not going anywhere but that you also care for him in return, he’ll scoop you up into his arms and kiss you.

🪶 After that, you two will pick up where you had left off, falling into the deep-rooted habits of your strong friendship. But it’s more than that now. Because the two of you become two halves of a whole, enriching each other’s lives in ways that neither of you had ever had before. It’ll feel strangely familiar and yet wonderfully new. Filled with snuggles, kisses, and laughter, and the promise of a bond that will only grow stronger with time.

[saintobio]

I've like casted the intro thingy almosy 3 times onto my TV atp so thank god finally my finger hit the ask box- Okay, SO SAINT, IK IM TIPSY RN BUT I MY ALCO FUZZIEX BRAIN CANNOT THINK OF ANYTHING BUT SY AND SY GOJO RN. IK IBEEN SOBBINF OVER HIM FOR THE PAST HOUR BUT SAINT, I WANNA CRY AND TELL U THAT U ARE AMAZING AND ILY, I HOPE YOI KNOW UOI DESERVE THE WORLD PLS 😭😭 IM SORRY IF THIS ASK COMES ACROSS AS SLOPPY AND PLAIN ANNOYING BUT HOLY SHIT IM JUSY CRYING AT HOW TALENTRD YOU ARE FOR GIVINF US QORLDS TO ESCAPE TO LIKE SN/SY, OLAL, WASTELANDS ESCPECIALLY WHEN PEOPLE HAVE BORINGASS LIVES LIKE MINE. ITS SO SEDENTARY AND STALE THAT I HAD TO DRINJ TO NOT BE THE SOBER ME. AND THEN YOURE SO NICE AND WITTY WITH ALL YOUR FOLLOWES TOO!!! YOURW HELLA COOL I HOPE U KNOW THAT!!! I HOPE U KNOW I ADOREE YOU MORE THAN ANY AUTHOR ATP. ILYYY. TAKE CARE OR GOJO NO UNBOX! BYE-BYE!!

ty so much!!! that’s so nice of u and it’s not annoying at all :D rly glad you enjoy some of my works <33

@otivez said

saint i've been DYING to tell you this omg my law professor told us this crazy story last week and istg it's sincerely not

it's very long and wild but in a nutshell this son of a high status family in the 60s needs to marry someone and his parents don't like his girlfriend so they find him a woman. he goes to his gf and tells her that he should marry the other woman and then they should see. fast forward a couple years he gets cancer and dies. after he dies, they see that he has 14 kids with his wife AND 15 with his girlfriend 😭 they ask the wife "why" and she says "well she gave birth so i had to give birth too" 😭 they were RACING 🤧 my mind just instantly went "what if reader was like sera too" shit gets even crazier that they even made a tv show about it

WHATJDJD THATS SO MESSY 😭

Anonymous said

Hello new reader here👀 An auntie lurking around.

I’m not an anime watcher (but a kdrama one) btw so I don’t know who this characters are irl? Is that even the term?🤣 I just happen to open tumblr after 5 years, this is my 12 year old account whom I spent my teenage years (you can guess my age already 😂)and that one person I’m following reblogged your Sincerely yours series. AND GURL WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN IN MY HECTIC BORING CORPORATE LIFE?!!! It’s been too loooong since I got invested like this for real😭 I am so intrigue, this is nothing like The Princess Diaries I used to read😒😂 and now I discover this gem called smut brrrr Guess what chapter I happen to read first, it’s the bora bora damn I was like, this series is fucking interesting I’m hooked and started reading from the very beginning. To that person who reblogged that chapter, thank you! And Saint, I love you! Muah💋

P.S I’m not following you yet, I don’t want to see the juicy spoilers 😁but I will, I PROMISE once I’m done teehee. And I just google this fucker Gojo Satoru (I’m in a chapter where I really despise him and Sera right now hahaha) he’s my wallpaper now btw and now I’m introducing him to my niece as my cheating rich handsome fiance so they’d stop calling me an old maiden😩

P.P.S can I share how I imagine yn’s style and appearance? It’s Kang Sa-Ra in kdrama A beauty Inside❤️ this is before I saw your curated aesthetic images for sn and yn hehe

it’s sooo interesting when people who don’t watch jjk actually read sn/sy 😭 i hope u know that they are very ooc in this series, and gojo isn’t like this at all HAHAJAJ also i haven’t watch that drama but the inspos for her fashion usually come from typical kdrama chaebols 😹

Anonymous said

I really wanted yn and Gojo to end up together because I’m a Gojo simp lmao. But if SN and SY with OG characters? honestly I don’t want the FL to end up with the ML I want them to go on their separate ways but have a healthy or civil coparenting their child. They’re both too broken to be together again but if they happen to have the strength to patch things up, I wish they’re already both healed to be together again.

If Gojo and YN is the endgame… Saint, I wonder how… And if they’re not… waaah

Anonymous said

This is a terrible thing to say but I'm toji x yn because i think it's the less worse option of gojo x yn. Both relationships have major issues but toji by comparison has less issues and can be salvage. Despite the titanic reference gojo made in sn19 their ship sunk and is staying at the bottom.

gojoyn or tojiyn, i think we can all agree that yn x therapy should come first 😫

@bellehalla said

this is not new but i will defend those Utahime haters because...i am one of them. first of all, why would you go after your friend's ex boyfriend. that itself is already questionable. then you go after an ex that your friend has a bad and complicated history with. apparently, that's not enough to set her head straight. then, you as a friend, know that this friend of yours is losing her shit, losing her mind over this dude and you're out here uwu catching feelings. BUT GREAT CHAPTER SAINT! <33

ahahaha i just know utahime wouldn’t give this much damn abt gojo in canon 😭 but sy!hime is a cassie

Anonymous said

Oh boy, your writing is so captivating! sn6 is the first chapter I've read as it's been released and what a chapter it has been... Thank you for doing this!

A question, I've seen in your profile that your type is INFP and as an mbti nerd have been wondering if you take the personality types of the characters when writing the story?

Sorry if the question has been asked before but I've just been very curious :)

tysm <33 i’m not very knowledgeable about mbti but i remember one of my readers who did a long post abt the characters mbti and why they make sense!! sorry i couldn’t find it anymore but it was during sn era, which is several months ago T^T

[nikethestatue]

I think it’s time for a RANT

Why is it Elain’s responsibility to reject the bond with Lucien?

Here is an example from my own life--when I was a kid, I grew up in a lot of different places, but primarily in countries, where engagements did not exist. There was no concept of an ‘engagement’. There was no dropping on one knee, no formal proposals, and certainly no ring or other expensive jewelry. Men asked women to marry them, hopefully it was a ‘yes’ and then they maybe planned a wedding celebration, if there was enough money. And if not, then they went to to justice of the peace, signed a paper and went home to celebrate. That’s it.

So, once I moved to the US, for the longest time, I couldn't understand the concept of engagement. Like what was it for? Why the waiting period? If you want to get married, just marry, and that’s it. (There was also no 40K weddings where I lived that you needed to mortgage a house for, to afford). It was just a weird cultural thing and it took a while and acquaintance with the US culture to begin to understand.

Why would Elain, who grew up a human, and has no knowledge of bonds, and places no importance on them (much like Nesta, mind you) be the one who should be dealing with this bond fiasco?

Just because Rhys explained it to Feyre, doesn’t mean that Elain is aware of everything that this stupid bond entails. Does she know that Lucien can potentially go insane or some other dramatic thing like that? All she knows is that she doesn’t really like him or want him, he is part of the reason her engagement fell through and she was rejected, and she clearly doesn’t feel pressed by this bond. She isn’t feral, she doesn’t miss him, she isn’t going crazy if he is hurt (or feels it at all)--none of the ‘normal’ bond emotions and cravings apply to her. She is also desiring another male, and doesn’t care that Lucien is even in the same house when she engages in a romantic interlude with this other man. 

Of course it beckons the question as to what is wrong with their bond, but that’s a whole different conversation.

But, let’s ask this--if Lucien is so invested in this bond (which he clearly isn’t, since he is shacking up in the human lands with 2 other people), then why doesn’t he sit down with her and explain it to her? Why does he not offer to court her? She comes from a certain background, where it’s clear that there are  formalities that have to be acknowledged and followed around engagement and matrimony. But does HE know about any of it? Does he try to find out how courtship/engagements/marriages work in the human lands? Doesn’t seem like it. Yet, the expectation is that Elain spends hours in the Library poring over tomes, learning about the bond.

So, if we are asking the questions ‘well, why doesn’t Elain reject the bond? why doesn’t she give Lucien a chance? why doesn’t she learn more about it?” then why are we not asking the same questions of Lucien--why doesn’t he take her on a date? Yes, she could decline, but then, at least he tried! Why doesn’t he ask Feyre, for example, to talk to Elain about the bond and how to operate within its confines? 

Why do readers, and characters, have this expectation that ‘Elain should deal with the bond’? Elain is not obligated to make Lucien, or any other male feel good about themselves, or make them comfortable, or not hurt their feelings (though again, I don’t feel like she is hurting his feelings, because he doesn’t seem to care). 

Elain was brutally rejected by her fiancé, in front of a crowd of people, she was also thrown at this other male that she doesn’t know anything about and isn’t attracted to. As far as we know, she was also called a ‘mistake’ by another male, to whom she is clearly very attracted. Her brother-in-law, unbenounced to her, has made all these detrimental decisions about her life, without giving two thoughts about her or her wants. Did anybody care about Elain’s feelings? Elain is expected to be nice to Lucien? Why? Because he is a nice guy? Do we, as women, go out with every ‘nice guy’ that asks us out? No. We should have a say to whom we offer our affections. And we are not obligated to make any and all ‘nice guys’ feel good, and acquiesce to their desires, at our own expense.

 Elain should not be expected to traumatize herself further, by entangling herself in some bond-related brawl, with indifferent Lucien, and freakin’ Beron snapping at the heels, and power-hungry, politically motivated Rhys, and the pining Azriel. The bond is not her thing. The bond is not her responsibility. She can do whatever the hell she wants--ignore it, accept it, reject it, breaking it, because the onus should not be on her, as a female to please all these males around her and offer them an answer. 

Nesta had the bond actually snap into place, and still she didn’t want to acknowledge it, standing in front of angry, puppy-eyed Cassian who is melting with love for her, and she is enflamed by love for him. And she was basically ‘yeah, I don’t want it. I am calling in the bargain! I don’t care. I wanna go be with my girlfriends! We are not discussing it.”

Feyre, while clearly in love with Rhys, who is also badly injured, leaves him in the mud in an Illyrian training camp and demands to be hidden, because she can’t deal with the bond. 

Yet Elain, who is barely a participating party in this fiasco is somehow expected to make firm declarations and quick decisions. 

Hey, but that’s just me. 

[authortobenamedlater]

Um, hi, hello. I was just wanting to know. I was reading your Keeping Up With the Raptors series (sorry, that gives me a little giggle because the Raptors are the basketball team in Canada so I still have trouble connecting 'Raptors' and 'hockey', sorry, anyway) on Ao3, and I was just curious to know if you ever think you'll write more? For that series? Cause I think it's really cool and quite well written. And I'd love to know how it's supposed to end. No pressure if it's something you've abandoned, just wanted to know. Thanks.

Also, thank you, because it's rewoken my love for my original works and characters and I'm going crazy about them all over again, and I'm actually writing about them again. A little, anyway. So thanks for that. :)

Sorry that sound you just heard was my body hitting the floor in shock that anyone is reading that series.

You know, I think I’d planned to make a joke about the Toronto Raptors sharing a name but I never got around to it?

If I did continue KUWTR, I’d have to do a bit of a reboot on it. Especially considering Seattle has a hockey team now. That’s why I orphaned the series; it was cluttering my profile and probably not continue-able in its current form.

Honestly, the lack of engagement with KUWTR and original work in general killed my motivation (hence my shock at getting a message on it, haha). I started writing it to prove to myself that I was a “real” writer after doing mostly fanfic for my entire life. But after awhile I felt like I was just writing into a void. With almost no feedback, I didn’t know what was working for the audience or if I even had an audience. I also floundered with trying to write a long-form/novel story, as that’s never been my strength.

KUWTR also required a lot of legwork. I had to dig pretty deep into the inner workings of the NHL and hockey culture and shotgun several things I couldn’t find. It was just plain exhausting and I wasn’t getting a whole lot in return. Once I got married and had kids I couldn’t dedicate the time anymore, hence my return to fanfiction where I could have fun writing with less time investment—and a lot more engagement on my stories. I’m not as active in sports fandom as I was before kids either, and I live in an area now where professional sports aren’t much of a thing (college football, on the other hand…) so it’s easy to lose touch.

I do, however, still think about KUWTR a lot. I love those characters and it means so, so much to hear that someone else loves them too even 10-ish years after the last update. I’d planned to have the series end with Hank’s retirement. But then I had some ideas for his daughter’s adventures playing for the US national team. 😂 So who knows when it would really end? If I rebooted the series, I think I’d make it a smaller focus on Hank and his family. Trying to include half the team as main characters was overwhelming and looking back, I’m sure it contributed to the series’s decline.

I can’t thank you enough for this ask. For real. It’s made my whole day to know even one person likes that universe I spent so much time crafting. Now that I’m “established” on tumblr and AO3, maybe KUWTR would get some more readers? It’s certainly worth thinking about. ❤️

[fanfiction-inc]

“It Takes Two to Win a Race.” Chapter II

[Previous Chapter] / [Next Chapter]

Verse: Falcon And The Winter Soldier / Captain America And The Winter Soldier / Captain America: Civil War/ Marvel Alternate Universe

Characters/Pairings: Baron Zemo/ Reader, Baron Zemo/ Female Reader, John Walker

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8971

Warnings/Tags: Drinking, smut, m/f, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, drunk sex, Google translated translations, Walker is an asshole and just keeps getting worse.

Summary: Baron Helmut Zemo, world renowned racer and your sworn enemy on the track. You two have been going at it for years now, but now you two must join forces to fight back against John Walker, a new up and coming racer who is proving to beat both of you. Will you two survive the other or meet your demise on the track?

Ao3 Version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32606833/chapters/81176392?view_adult=true

This is a mess. An absolute, blazing mess that sits before you in the middle of your workshop. The chassis was dented all to Hell, a new one having to be rebuilt and delivered to fix your custom car. The engine had parts missing that were left at the crash sight when it was towed away. One car to your name, and it was fucked up. Maybe you should have taken Stark’s sponsorship and invested in a backup. Sitting on the cement floor of the workshop, screwdriver in hand as you pry out bits and pieces of parts from the engine, taking note of the parts and working on the budget you had set out for this year's series of races, you dreaded the moment you’d see the total cost. This repair would take a nice chunk, but you still had money left over after to make sure your car was at its best. That was the thing about working with your car, it was just you and this beast of metal and speed, working as one to reach the end of the line. The screwdriver is set down at your side when you struggled too long on getting the broken interconnecting rod that links the turbine from the compressor, a sigh following as you sit back. A slow sense of dread fills you as you look at the broken parts scattering the ground, the missing parts on your list, and the purple paint that still streaks the busted carbon fiber chassis. 

Working with Zemo was a dangerous game, which you recognized even before you shook on the arrangement he had proposed. He was wicked on the course, predictable at times but at others a ticking time bomb of what his next move may be. He was dangerous, but that is what made him damn good. He took far more risk than you usually would when it came to advancement in the race. Where you held back, he pushed forward. No wonder the man infuriated you. But this plan was the only thing you had to get things back to normal, back to the way they were where you hated Zemo with a passion and fought tooth and nail to stay better than him. You would never admit it, but without your rival, what fun was the race? See, it's not only the thrill of the chase between the driver and death, inching closer and closer with each hairpin turn and the risk of the other driver's moves. No, it’s also the thrill of having someone who wants to win just as bad as you, who is just as good and will do anything to try and progress further than you. It sets a standard, something to surpass, something to stay on level ground with when you catch yourself falling. Zemo was your equal, no matter how much you hated him. And equals like you two don’t have room for a third party to jump in and surpass. The game isn’t any fun when someone fucks with the rules. He had a point when it came to beating Walker down, especially since the man was already fighting you both with molotov cocktails and rocket fire in the form of playing dirty on the track. He was bringing a war to a battle just to see if he could come out on top. Despite everything telling you to stay away from Zemo and not get involved in this scheme, that it could end badly for one or both of you, you couldn’t stand the idea of having Walker walk all over you like some doormat. You couldn’t let him walk in as if he owned the place and could rule as he pleased. 

He needed a reality check. 

Your form pops and cracks as you stand, stiff from sitting on the solid ground and stretching to relieve your body of the tension. Everything felt so wrong, and you knew you had to make it right...But was this the right way to do it? “Jesus, you sound like that rice cereal with the little elves. You know, snap, crackle, and pop?” You laugh lightly when your friend comes into the workshop, food in hand and dressed down from the usual luxury attire he wore when visiting. No suit and tie in sight, just the oil stained wife beater you had seen him in when pursuing your education in the states as he worked tirelessly on his little toys as you liked to call them. He sets the bag down, the scent of the food causing your stomach to growl and pinch with a hint of pain. Have you really forgotten to eat today? You hadn’t noticed. “Got your favorite. Do you know how hard it is to find a restaurant that speaks English? I had to have Friday translate for me.”

“Maybe you should take a new hobby and learn the French language.” You retorted with a grin, the man shaking his head as he sets everything out. “Maybe I want you as my teacher, but you’re always busy with driving around in your fast little car and getting famous for fighting a Sokovian asshole.” 

“And you’re too busy tinkering away with your toys in your little workshop in New York. Truly Tony, don’t tell me you actually want me as your teacher when your toys can teach you for me.” You pause as he rolled his eyes, watching the man for a brief moment as he turned to unwrap his burger. “Speaking of said Sokovian connard, he came to the bar I was at last night.��� The man paused mid bite on the thick patty before speaking with his mouth full. “Okay, spill, what did he want?”

“Well originally I thought he was going to cuss me and try to blame me for the failure to complete the race yesterday, but he showed me something. You know the young man who won the race yesterday, corriger? John Walker?” 

“Yeah, I know the guy. Races for the American McLaren team and came straight from F3 to F1. What’d he do?” 

He raises a brow when you sigh, taking a seat beside him on the desk he had set the food down on and stealing the dish he had brought you. “Zemo showed me proof that Walker hit his car and sent him flying into mine. And I believe he did it on purpose.” You explain, taking a bite of the food your companion got for you. You pause for a moment to chew before returning to your theory. “On my way to the car bay, he smirked at me, and it wasn’t a “I won” smirk- well, it kinda was, but it was rather a “I did this to you” kind of smirk. Not necessarily an evil one but one that showed he knew exactly what he had done and was proud of it. Pride in an unfair act.”

“And no flags were thrown up?” 

“Non, not a one. As our friend the Baron said,” you cringe at the term friend, “the ones watching the race possibly couldn’t tell if he had done such on purpose or by accident. I believe him about such. And I suppose that brings me to what I’m about to say next.” You take a breath, gaze conflicted and downcast to your food as you speak. “The Baron offered a temporary truce of our rivalry to take down this John Walker, thus allowing us to return to what we do best after Walker is taken down.” He listened intently before his nose scrunched at the idea of such. You two working together? Ha! That’d never work! “And you said yes to this crazy idea? What the Hell are you thinking, (first name)?” Your hands shoot up in defense, gaze rising to meet his own. “I know, I know! It’s a crazy idea, but you know as well as I do that if Zemo and I want things back to normal, back to the rivalry, we have to do this together so Walker is met with further resistance. If I could avoid it and deal with this American scum, no offense, then I would.” 

“Some taken, but I get it. I just wonder if you two will go back to the way things are after all of this. Who knows, maybe you’ll become that dreaded word you hate to associate with him in any capacity-”

“Ne t'avise pas de le dire, Anthony.”

“Friendssss.” He draws it out, causing you to roll your eyes at his antics and slap his arm with the back of your grimey hand. He pretended to show a hurt expression before chuckling when another slap came, this time to his chest. “Oh hush, we will never be friends.” 

“I guess time will tell.” A shrug followed as Stark finished the last bite of his burger, crumbling the wrapper and lining up the shot with the waste bin in the corner. “He shoots,” the paper lands in the bin, his arms going up in the air. “He scores!”

“Stop goofing around, ma amie. I asked for your help with this and now I need it.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three weeks have passed, and the Germany race is upon you. The Nürburgring, a beast of a track that many racers to this day in Formula 1 fear like a plague sweeping the track. Your mind has been racing as you pieced your car back together and got it ready for racing. What happens if something wasn’t installed in the engine right? What if you didn’t get the intake vents lined up just right? You were a perfectionist with your car, and you know deep down that it was ready for race day but it made your head sing with pain as a migraine sets in. That wasn’t the only thing that made it throb and bring you to lean against the chassis of your car. Zemo’s deal, it worried you sick. But you didn’t have time to think about it much today. You couldn’t dwell on it. You had a race to win. 

Your eyes flick up at the speakers, listening to the message. It was press conference time. You take your seat where your name tag and flag set, giving a nod of acknowledgement to the crowd of reporters sitting and waiting to open up questioning. To your left, Walker seats himself with a boyish, charming smile that didn’t quite meet those dark eyes. He looked your way, hand held out to you. “Hey, I hate that we didn’t get to meet earlier on. I’m John Walker.” You glance at his hand before looking back up at him. He played a good game, acting innocent like the boy scout he tried to be. You wouldn’t fall for his games, but you shook his hand briefly. “(First name) (Last name).” He grinned. “Oh, I know who you are. I’ve been watching you race for years now! I hate that you crashed a couple weeks ago, would have loved to have been standing on that podium with you.” 

“Oui, such a shame that was. But today is a new day, Mr. Walker.” Your gaze flickered to your right, startled by your rival taking his seat and looking directly at the pair of you. The Baron never sat beside you, even going as far as to request a seat change from the press conference coordinators. Some learned to keep you two separate, others knew it would incur drama, and drama made money. 

“Alright everyone, please take your seats and the conference will begin in one moment!” 

“Say, did you get your car all fixed up? Must have cost a pretty penny since you don’t have any sponsors.” Walker continued on, this time his gaze looking at the reporters as he gave a brief wave to the ones he recognized from the states. “Oui.” He gave a huff of a laugh. “Not much of a talker, are you?” You wanted to bite back, to say something and throw hands with this man, but you would be escorted out and disqualified in a snap. “Non.” A leg bumped yours under the table and you glance at Zemo who met your gaze briefly. Those dark brown eyes questioned if you were okay, a silent question that only you understood. The slightest nod was sent his way before looking at the reporters who got things settled and ready. 

“Questions are now open-” The announcer was startled with the amount of questions directed in the direction of you three, clearing his throat as he nodded to your little trio at the table. Mr. Walker!” He gestured to the reporter, watching him stand and adjust his microphone and camera. “Mr. Walker, this question is open to the three of you. Under allegations from the previous race at The Circuit Paul Ricard, many are wondering if you had caused the accident involving Zemo and (Last name). How do you feel about these accusations?” The man had the audacity to laugh and throw that boyish smile to the camera, rubbing at his face. “Look, that was not supposed to happen once so ever. As many of my fellow racers can attest, one wrong slip of the hand on your wheel and your car will eventually go off track. I got nervous, twitched, and just so happened to bump the Baron’s car into Ms. (Last name)’s car. I feel terrible, I truly do, but it could have happened to anyone with any driver. So I refute these accusations and continue to say this is an accident.” 

“And you, Baron, Ms. (Last name). How do you feel about the accusations?” The reporter gestured his question to you two now. “I respect your opinion, Mr. Walker,” Zemo began, the man smiling and sending a nod his way. “But I call, as the Americans say, bullshit.” His smile fell, darkened gaze questioning the man on what the Hell he was going on about. The reporters erupted in questioning, trying to get the attention of the two racers who stare each other down around you. You lean back a bit for them to have a better view-line, One of the American reporters calling your name. You use this moment to break the tension. “Oui?” 

“Do you believe you stand a chance as a woman against these two leading men now that John  Walker is starting to gain points and nearing your total?” You blink at his question before taking a deep breath, holding it to calm your throbbing head, and releasing it slowly. “Oui, I do. I believe I can keep up just as well as any racer. Take my racing career with Zemo. I have kept up with his old extrémité arrière.” The French reporters in the room resound in a fit of chuckles, bringing a smile to your face. “And against Walker?” You meet his gaze as he stares at you expectantly for an answer, forcing that smile he tried to use on you earlier. “I believe I stand quite a good chance, but que le meilleur coureur gagne.” You shrug, listening as the smaller drivers get asked their questions. The whole time there are eyes burning into the left side of your head, waiting until the racers are dismissed. Walker watches you as you walk out, watching the way Zemo comes up in tow as you make your way to the car bay. Something was up, and he could feel that there were clearly doubts in your mind about the accident in France. He would just have to deal with you later. “(First name), wait!” Zemo followed you into the bay, slowing from his jog to keep up with you to a stop near the desk holding your notes about the race and your vehicle. “I haven’t had a chance to talk with you in person since the bar.” He paused, looking into those eyes of yours that gaze at him curiously. “Are you ready for this, fräulein?” 

“Aussi prêt que possible, Baron.” You busy yourself with inspecting your car for any last minute changes, the man watching you as you inspect and work. “Good, good. And we are still a go, yes?” 

“Oui, we are still, as you said, a go.” He grinned at you, gaze flickering down your back as he looked over your uniform. Of course he had noticed you in all aspects before, talent and skill being the top, but never had he been this close like the night at the bar and now to really see you. Maybe after all of this, even with the rivalry, you could be friends, dare he say anything more than such. “You’re staring.” You quip, breaking him from his trance to meet your gaze. The faintest hint of color lingered on your cheeks. He coughed, trying to clear away the embarrassment lingering in his form. Why was he getting embarrassed? “Just thinking about what will be left behind when I pass you on the track, mein liebe.” Your eye roll doesn’t go unnoticed, the man relaxing due to how calm you are around him. No biting his head off, no anger, just chill. You stand and give a playful shove to his shoulder, smiling at the Sokovian. “In your dreams, Sokovian. Now, get the fuck out of my car bay.” He smiled to himself as he walked away, mind now clouded by the smile that lingered on your lips. He liked when you smiled, and he had to make sure this plan worked. 

The race was gearing up to start, the same process as before coming into play. Car, balaclava, wheel. You take your moment to breathe, today your speed has placed you in second, just as the plan entailed. Zemo took the first position. He glanced your way, sending a nod in your direction, only to smirk beneath the balaclava when you flip him off like usual. The rivalry was still on, no matter what he would still have that after dealing with Walker. Still have you in one sense or another. Your glance focused in on the man across the way in the pole position opposite of you, his eyes locked on the two of you before meeting your gaze. There he stares you down, even as his helmet slipped on. The visor was flipped down at the one minute warning, eliminating the final clarifying view of his gaze. It was clear he was cautious of you, maybe even lingering with hate. 

“Fahrer! Starten...sie ihre....Motoren!

That familiar purr settles into your chest, spreading through your body like a dam breaking and flooding the valley below. It stirs up the motivation to win once more, removing any doubt from your mind as you rev your engine. Zemo was right, Walker had to be stopped. With this attitude about racing, playing his little mind games and wrecking racers, he’d get someone killed just for first place. You couldn’t allow that...but you also couldn’t allow the rivalry you have established with Zemo to be broken because of someone else. There was too much there to be lost. Your fingers tighten around the wheel, licking your lips beneath the helmet as you prepare yourself for takeoff. The lights start counting down the race. Five seconds away, one green and two red lights. You watch them count down until the bottom lines of red are fully lit, then they flash off. You’re off, following Zemo right on the tail of his car as you start into the track. This track was a beast, your mind racing as it remembers every nook and cranny of it. Seventy three corners, eleven danger points, hair pin turns, all on a 12.8 mile long course that was deadly in the onset of any weather and people who get careless with their moves. Lucky enough, the sky was only overcast. No rain, little wind to interfere with the aerodynamics and mobility of the chassis, just the perfect chill in the air to remind you where you were in this moment. You take your turns with ease, avoiding the group of cars that began to follow suit on the track behind your own. Your eyes remained locked in on every shift to your side, Walker keeping close by within each turn and danger point you went through. 

As you drive, Walker gets up past you within one of the speed trap areas, the stretch of road allowing him to be up beside Zemo and leave you on the back of their tires. Zemo had a plan, you believed in this plan… but had he just been toying with you to get closer to Walker? Doubt clouded your mind, even as you sped up in an attempt to join the boys directly in the front. Perhaps you shouldn’t have followed this plan, even as you get through the first twenty five laps, then the next twenty five. Each turn brought your tyres closer to Walkers who eyed you cautiously from time to time, as if silently daring you to pull a move like he did. Maybe you’d be caught and black flagged. Hell, that would make his fucking day if that happened. As he watched you, he had failed to notice on the wider strip of the track how Zemo began to drift further and further ahead. Then he was side tracked, Zemo slowing abruptly and stealing the attention of the young American driver. “What the Hell!?” He yelled over the roar of multiple motors, watching your car join Zemo’s side and the original speed be resumed. Now you sat beside Zemo on the track, pedal to the floorboard as you two kept your lead and basically walled Walker in. Each time he tried to drift around, one of you would shift your car just enough to keep him locked in. A grin met your lips as you drove, the energy of the race taking a whole new shift as you got closer and closer to the last lap with your rival right at your side. Tips of the chassis lined up perfectly, rear aerodynamic fins aligned like a well oiled machine. You two were in perfect sync as you put Zemo’s plan into action. Create a wall of impenetrable magnitude. If Walker tried anything, all three of you would go down. If he tried to get around, he would be blocked. There was no getting out from behind you two. 

The checkered flag waved in the quickly approaching distance, your gaze for a moment looking at your rival. The blur of purple was steady, lined with yours like that of an air jet's flight coordination. Perfectly straight, and running at full throttle like you are. As your cars pass the finish line, debate begins to rise. It was too close in the end to call, at least not right away. You slow, allowing the purple beast to pass by and enter the pit before you, a silent gesture of courtesy to the man you worked with. He sent a small nod your way when he watched you get out of your car, helmet removed along with his balaclava and revealing the joyful grin resting on his lips. Anyone else would mistaken it for cockiness, but the look in his eyes said it all. You two did it, you beat Walker in the race! He must be furious! A breath is held on your end, helmet and the fabric covering your face discarded as you turn your gaze away from the arriving racers and the man you drove along with. You were locked in on that score board, curiosity eating at you for who may have won the race. You were neck in neck with the man, the smallest push forward could earn either of you the points for the day. No names shown yet, and you anxiously leaned on the hot surface of the carbon fiber vehicle as you waited. Each noise around you from the slow dwindle of engines to low, fading purrs to the pit crews of your respective teams surrounding you, your rival, and the newcomer were drowned out by the pounding of your heart as it flooded your ear drums. It felt like hours passed as you kept your gaze locked on, ignoring the happy clamour of your crew, the clasp of hands on your shoulder and pats on your back, even down to the ruffling of your hair in glee. Then it flashed up. 

1st: (First initial). (Last name) 

1st: H. Zemo 

2nd: J. Walker

The press goes crazy over the news, each respective country reporting their amazement over the finishing results.

“Ein fehlerfreier, aber überraschender Sieg für Baron Helmut Zemo, der mit (First name) (Last name) gleichauf den ersten Platz belegt!”

“Victoire pour la championne de France (First name) (Last name) alors qu'elle rejoint le Baron Helmut Zemo dans une rare égalité!”

“In a remarkable and truly unprecedented event in The Nürburgring F1 race! Baron Helmet Zemo and (First name) (Last name) tied in a photo finish for first place, a rare occurrence that has set back American racer John Walker from the potential for first place!”

Your breath comes out shaky, slowly slipping out as reality hits you like a wrecking ball to a brick wall. The air leaves your lungs as a happy noise rings out from your lips, joining your crew in the celebration as they hug and surround you. You placed first. Zemo placed first. Curiosity met you, your gaze looking to the man who celebrated with his own crew before allowing himself a chance to settle his gaze on you in turn. There he sent a wink, a silent congratulations that made you shake your head at his antics before refocusing on the celebration. You would be standing with the man in first place on that podium, both sharing the victory wreath and spraying champagne all over the crowd of fans and your respective pit crews who were basking in the glory just as much as you two were. You couldn’t help the glee bubbling up in your form, even as you make your way not too far from your rival. For a second, just a split second, you let the rivalry go and let your smile be seen in accompaniment with his gleeful grin, shoulders bumping when you’re positioned at the podium by the F1 management crew. Press swarm to the area like flies to a summer barbecue, wanting to catch a glimpse of the rivals standing together, being on the podium and sharing first place. “Not so bad working with my, as you put it earlier, old extrémité arrière, hm?” He questioned as you two stood together, the closeness you two were forced into for the photographers far more comfortable than it would have been under any other circumstances. He blamed the feelings he had at this moment on the victory over Walker, over the rest of the racers, not even thinking that perhaps this was beyond the fact that he won but that you, his favorite rival, won alongside him. “Non, not the worst.” You joked lightly, forcing a serious face for the cameras when they began to picture you two side by side on the first place stand. He accepted the bottle of champagne before you could, holding it out. “You may have the honor, (First name).” Your fingers brush his own as you grasp the bottle with him, popping the cork and sending the bubbly to decorate the crowd. Flash after flash met you as you stood alongside Zemo and basked in the glory of the win. “How about drinks to celebrate? Even as rivals, I believe a drink wouldn’t hurt.” He whispered the question, causing your gaze to lock on his own in brief surprise. Was he serious!? “I um..Oui, sure. Meet you in town?” He nods, gaze seeming to glimmer ever so brighter as he takes his leave. Even when you separate to get cleaned of the alcohol and switch to “civilian clothing”, your smile doesn’t falter. Maybe it would be good for you to drink the night away with company that didn’t seem as bad as you once had thought before. 

As you begin to peel away the racing suit, the flame resistant material bunching at your waist and revealing the open expanses of your back, the simplistic bra strap over the back the only material seen, you fail to hear the seething man enter your car bay. “Do you know what you just did, Ms. (Last name)? Who you fucked with?” Walker puts his hands on your shoulders, spinning you around to face him, his face inches away from yours. “You went and fucked with the wrong man. You could have just accepted your loss, licked your wounds, and we would have been just fine. But oh no, you had to go and fuck with my winning streak with that Sokovian piece of shit.” He huffed when you shove him back, gaze narrowed and arms crossing over your bra covered chest out of annoyance. You could care less what he saw. “I don’t see why you’re so mad, Mr. Walker. You got a taste of your own medicine after that stunt you pulled back in France. You and I both know that was no accident.” 

“You know what? Yeah, I did that. But I see you are working with Zemo now, which is also a big no-no in Formula 1. Seems we’re both sinners of the race. The greed of it.” His tone was a hushed, harsh whisper. There was no need to alert anyone that he was in your private quarters harassing you. “I’m nothing like you.” Your tone came out in a hiss, his downturned lips curving up into a grin at your response. “Oh sweetheart, I beg to differ.” He chuckled at the narrowed gaze he was met with. “You and your Sokovian boy toy need to back off. Let this happen like it should or you’ll not like what happens next.”

“And just what do you think you’ll do, John? Because all I’m hearing right now is a lot of talking with no proof of any big execution.” Your lazy grin and scoff of annoyance at his presence left him to raise his hands in mock defeat, hands coming to rest on your shoulders once more with a harsh grip that made your body tense and hold you there. He leaned in, even as you tried to lean away, his lips moving in close near your ear. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Frenchie. I will do anything to win. You best remember that.” His tone alone makes your body betray you, the calm, cool, and collected front slipping as a shiver ran up your spine at his warning. And with that, he leaves you to get dressed for the night. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zemo texts you an address for a bar off the beaten path in Cologne, Germany, further than you had anticipated in going from the track but a welcomed change of scenery. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Frenchie. I will do anything to win. You best remember that.” The words stick with you, even as you drive the main road into the big city, looking for the bar Zemo had invited you to. It was connected to a hotel, a fancy hotel at that, with old architecture and lavish exterior. You could only imagine the interior! A nervous breath is taken as you get out of the car, gaze meeting the man you had just won with. He smiled at you, clothing casual and the air around him feeling far more comforting now than ever. The incident with Walker had left you rattled, sending your nerve endings to buzz and let your body know that you aren’t okay. Even though you felt off, you force a smile to the man who wrapped a friendly arm around your shoulders and led you in to sit at the quiet bar. “So, did I not tell you the plan would work?”

“I just thought it was your cockiness talking, but I will admit, though it physically pains me to do so…” You pause, biting your lip. “Well?” You sigh. “You were right.” The words come out struggled and forced, the man's grin growing at such. “Ah~, I don’t believe I caught that.” “Oh va te faire foutre!” He chuckled at your words, hand raised towards the bartender to get you drinks. “What are you ordering?”

“Shots. We deserve something to toast our victory to, and I don’t believe champagne is your drink of choice.” He offered you one of the smaller glasses, his own raised before him as he locks those bright brown eyes with your own. “Ein Prost! To us, and our victory over John Walker. May that American schwein taste defeat again.” You raise your glass, hoping to drink away any thoughts about Walker's warning and leave it for the next day. Throwing caution to the wind, you decided right then and there that you would finally have fun and disregard the night that you sat across from your rival. Tonight you just wanted to drink. “À la vôtre!” The drink is bitter as it hits your throat and travels down your body, causing a warmth to spread soon after. Kuemmerling, a bitter concoction of herbaceous and bittersweet flavors. A drink of choice for Zemo it seemed because soon after the shots were downed, he ordered another round. 

Shot after shot after shot is taken down until your body is leaning against his own and a joke that is shaky at best from his part sends you into a roar of laughter. He holds you close, laughing right along with you. “So... It’s Barenjar?” He snorts at your piss poor pronunciation of the new liquor joining the mix, shaking his head at you as he looks on with drunken vision. “Nien, nien, Bärenjäger. Say it with me. Bä-”

“Bä-”

“Ren-”

“Ren-”

“Jäger!”

“Mick Jagger?” 

He laughs in defeat, shaking his head as he watched you. So relaxed, so calm. He hasn’t seen you like this before in his life. He’s startled by your sudden movements after downing your last shot for the night, catching you as you try to stand and stumble as your feet betray you. Your body landing against his, his arms slotting themselves around your waist as your drunken gaze catches his own. Those brown eyes of his are hypnotizing, keeping your gaze locked on his own. “I have something to confess, (First name).” He paused to wet his lips, trying to piece the words together in his hazy mind. “I have liked you since the day I met you.” He finally blurts out, fingers moving up to brush away a stray strand of hair that had fallen into your eyes. “You’re infuriating, yet calming. Stubborn and determined. Your smile is lovely and those eyes…” He trails off, leaving your hazy mind questioning what was going to come after, but you hardly have time to think about it as he pressed in closer, face inches from your own. The smell of Bärenjäger and Kuemmerling lingered on his breath as it fanned over your face, those brown eyes searching for something in your own. “Can you feel it, the connection we have? Can you see that we are not just rivals now?” His tone was just barely above a whisper, questioning you with a hint of desperation to his tone. 

“Oui.” 

That was the only answer he needed. His lips are on yours with fever and desperation, hands clinging to your form for dear life after hearing the words that sent him to fully fall into the feeling of you. You were his comfort, the one constant thing in his life. His rival...but right now you were the woman he sloppily kissed at the hotel bar as the bartender tried to catch his attention to tell you that you both were cut off for the night. His hands moved to grip at your thigh and tangle in your hair, abandoning the idea of holding anything back, the liquor giving him courage to make a move on you. He has wanted to do this for years, touch you, feel you, have you there with him in any way he could. He separated only when the threat of security was offered by the bartender, lips kiss swollen and a faint pant falling from them. “Come.” His hand takes hold of yours, leading you along to the lift and up to his room for the night. This hotel that he called home for the time being would serve well for what he had in mind to do to you. He led you inside, not even waiting for the door to close as he captured your lips once more, hands taking your rear in his grasp and hoisting you up so your legs wrapped around him, back pressed up against the closest wall he could find. He held you there, lips separating to begin trailing hungry kisses down the column of your throat and allow his hands to trace along your sides. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric of your shirt to feel the bare skin there, wanting what he has longed for since the day he met you. A noise fell from your lips as he lazily suckled a mark over your pulse point, your fingers tangling into his dark hair and tugging the locks when his hips grounded against your own. He couldn’t help the fire blooming in his body, needy for the creature that has teased him for all these years, The one he thought he would never have a chance with because of their hate for each other on the track. He needed you, and in your current state, you were willing to accept any touch he offered. He was just Helmut Zemo tonight. Not your rival, not the Baron, just Helmut. And you were his (First name). 

A groan left his lips when you pulled him by his hair away from your neck, hands working to take your shirt up and over your head. Throwing it aside, he looked at you with a gaze of admiration. It was similar to the gaze he gave when looking at the new modifications to his car, taking pride in the beauty of things that drove him to win. He dampens his lips, fingers lazily dragging up the expanses of your back from bottom to top, resting on the clasp of the garment covering your breast. “Darf ich?” Your nod was all he needed, the clasp undone with skilled fingers that knew precision, holding still on your back when your arms rose to take the garment and throw it in an unknown direction to be forgotten about for the time being. He wasted no time with taking one of your breasts in hand, fingers running over the sensitive bud of one while he took the other in his mouth, suckling and lavishing with his tongue. He took his time, drunken yet slowly sobering mind savoring each and every noise that fell from your lips as he toyed with your body. You’re barely into foreplay and he already has your panties soaked, the Baron being a creature that knows exactly what buttons to push to get you going without even knowing your body. He was skilled, that much was for sure in your mind as he switched to the other breast, paying equal attention to each. Those brown eyes of his don’t leave your face for a second, watching every reaction and trying to commit them to memory. If he could only have you tonight, he wanted to remember everything he possibly could. Every detail of your body, everything that drew a hitched breath or a low moan from your lips. Every shaky breath and the way your body would press closer to his greedy mouth and hand. He stored it all away. Maybe he’d wake up the next day and fancy this a pleasant dream...It wouldn’t be the first time he’s gotten worked up by thinking about you. 

His hand traveled downward, cupping your sex through your pants as his own grinds up against your thigh, straining through the fabric of his pants. He ached for you, for your heated skin to be pressed against his own in a delicious rut of bodies. He traced along the seam, hearing the low whine that fell from your lips as he teased you through the material. “Helmut, stop for a moment.” The man paused all actions, his gaze shifted to a worried state as he met your eyes and spoke with concern. “Are you alright, mein liebling?”

“Oui.” Your fingers trace his jaw, the man's face briefly pressing in against your palm before delivering a soft kiss to the area. A tender gesture that sent butterflies to flutter in your stomach and heart to speed further than the foreplay had already caused. “I just...Take me to the bedroom. Please?” You preferred not being right beside the door where anyone could listen in, where anyone could hold a camera up to the peephole and record the sexual pleasures of the infamous Wildcard and Baron. That would make a top headline, wouldn’t it? He gave a chuckle at your demand, nodding as he kept his grip on you, your legs wrapping just a hint tighter around him as he moved you both to the bedroom. He’s gentle with setting you down, looking down at you when you unwrap your arms and legs from his form. “Scheiße, du bist perfekt.” He slowly worked on the buttons of his shirt, working each plastic piece through the loop with fingers that were known for precision on the course. A shift in his steering, taking hold of the semi-automatic paddle-shifters as he drove, it was all well calculated and that applied on and off the track. His shirt is shrugged off his shoulders, thrown aside before focusing on the belt on his pants. He gets it off with what can only be deemed a darkening gaze, knowing he’s getting closer and closer to having you. You rose to let your hands trail his chest, roaming over the lean muscle that rested there as feather light kisses met his collarbone. A shiver met his spine, shooting up in bliss as he allowed a moment to savor the feeling of you touching his skin. Your skin was so warm, so inviting. He was getting lost in everything. 

Your fingers shift down his torso, trailing his abdomen before looping in the belt loops of his pants to pull him forward, a low growl falling from his lips when you place a kiss above the waistline of his pants. Your movements were confident, unzipping his trousers and tugging them down to reveal the tent hidden behind his underwear. He swallowed thickly as he kicked his pants off, watching your every move as you cup him through the thin fabric, thumb moving to brush over the leaking tip and cause a shaky breath to leave him. “Maus-” A groan leaves his lips when a jerk through the fabric is given, his head falling back briefly. He huffed when you repeated the motion, fingers anxious to wrap around his bare flesh and feel that hot skin in the palm of your hand. But he stops you, hand wrapping around your own and bringing it to his lips once more. “Tonight is not about me, maus.” You’re surprised when the man placed his hand on your chest, lightly pushing you back to lay on the bed as he slowly sank down onto his knees, ”Es geht nur um dich.’ His lips drag slowly across your skin, trailing light kisses and nips along your abdomen and resting at the waist of your pants. He glanced up, a silent question of courtesy offered your way as his fingers loop in the band, asking permission like a proper gentleman. “Go ahead.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, his presence making you feel like you’re floating higher and higher on this ride with him. He gave a tug, your rear lifting and back arching to aid the man as he pulled your pants down and let them fall to join the scattered articles around the room. You’d have to go on a damn scavenger hunt just to find your clothes! But none of that mattered now, not when his hot breath is fanning over your needy core and face nuzzling at your thighs. He placed a kiss to your inner thigh before another followed, then another as he began to trail inward towards your covered core. “Aufgeregt?” He purred in questioning, a low rumble of a chuckle coming from deep within his chest spilling out at the small nod he is met with, loving how he has left you damn near speechless just by being so close. Your hips jump back before he gets a grip on them, his tongue moving over the wet fabric and causing a light whine to spill from your lips. “Helmut, please.” Oh, hearing you speak his name only egged him on further, needing you. He needed to taste you, to feel you. He needed you in every way, and his drunken mind only pushed him on to pull the fabric away from your legs and stare at the glory that is you. So wet, so beautiful. He wasted no more time, bringing your legs to hook over his shoulders and delved into the intoxicating honey pot he had been offered. He started off slowly, a long lap from entrance to clit given before the motion was repeated just to hear the noise that left your lips with each swipe. Zemo was mapping you out, taking note of what areas made your thighs twitch and tense, what areas made your hips jump back at the sensitivity of his touch, and what made those oh so delicious noises spill from your mouth. 

He allows his tongue to focus in on your clit, flicking the bundle of nerves in a rhythm that sends your head to spin and moan after moan to spill from your lips. “Merde!” He smirked against your core when your hand shot down to tangle in his locks, needing stability after he took your clit between his lips and suckled. He repeats the motion, gaze locked on your own and watching the sudden shock of the feeling run through your body. You were so reactive, and just for him. A lazy lick is given to the sensitive bundle of nerves, watching your hips jerk lightly and seeing the tremble that began to settle into your thighs. “Close?” He questioned as if he was questioning about an everyday thing, totally not giving the impression he was getting you close to orgasm just with that sinful tongue and lips of his. O-Oui.” Your tone was shaky, breathy, eyes half lidded and watching his every move on you. “Gut.” A gasp fell from your lips when he sank a digit into your hot, needy core, arching along the way and searching for the sweet spot deep within. He wasn’t like the inexperienced boys who would just jab their fingers into their partner and hope it hits something. No, his fingers curled, probed, dragged and felt for that spot in a way that showed his experience. A second digit is added not too long after the first, probing the flesh within until he hears your moan and finds that spot that drives you to clamp your thighs around his head. A groan left his lips at the rush of slick is met with each probe, massaging that spot within you and only adding to the tension building in your core. Each throb he was met with only spurred him on. He was on a mission to bring you over the edge, and he would do anything to get you off. When his mouth returned to your still sensitive clit, tongue flicking of the bundle and including the occasional suckle while his fingers moved deep within, you were done for. A rough tug is given to his hair as your body convulses, thighs clamping around him and grinding your hips down against his eager tongue. He helps you ride out your orgasm, lapping at your clit until you give a light shove to his head to make him stop. A wicked smile crosses his features as he gives one final suckle, a squeak leaving your lips at the motion and shoving him back as much as your trembling body allows. He can only chuckle at the attempt, fingers removing from your throbbing core. He watched your gaze land on him when you caught sight of the digits, watching the man move his glance to them as if he was inspecting them before a quiet whimper left your lips when they were taken one by one into his mouth. He made it a show, teasing you as he cleaned each digit of your juices in a slow motion. Sinking down to the knuckle before returning and licking at whatever was left. “Tease.” You huffed, chest rising and falling steadily with your hammering heart. “Oh you know you like it.” He retorted, lazily letting his body climb up and over yours on the plush mattress. 

He pushed the final material separating you from him away, throwing the underwear away before letting himself settle in against your body. Zemo wasted no time in wrapping your legs around his waist, lips joining yours as he lined up with you, one hand taking hold of your hip while the other took hold of your hair, tugging it back enough to have access to your neck. As he begins to ease himself within you, his lips attach at a section of your neck, a harsh mark left in his wake as he sinks inch by inch within the lightly pulsing core that he toyed with before. A groan was left against your skin when he was fully settled, grip rough on your hip but movements gentle as he waited for you to adjust. He was no animal, not cruel! He knew that there was a possibility for pain if he moved too soon, and even in his drunken haze he recognized the look in your eyes, the slight twinge of pain from his size alone. The stretch wasn’t unpleasant, no, but it was an intrusion you weren’t quite used to when normally doing this. He lightly placed kisses to sooth you along the mark he left, trailing them up the underside of your chin, going along your jaw before soon connecting with your lips in a soft kiss. Something to distract you until you were ready for him to move. A shift of your hips was given when you tested the feeling of him in you, the moan that left your lips causing a low growl to fall from his own. He lifted his body to loom over yours, hand moving from your hair to cup a breast as he sets a slow, deep and even borderline sensual pace within your core. Slowly out until the tip stayed just barely in before plunging deeply into your warm, wet depths. He huffed with each push of his cock within your core, meeting your moans with a faint groan here or a soft growl there when your walls gripped him just right. He was losing composure with each faint twitch of your walls around him, pace beginning to pick up into a steady rhythm that developed the noise of slick skin hitting skin and the bed beneath to creak ever so slightly with each movement. “Verdammt!” He could tell how your walls began to tighten around him, how each noise leaving your lips grew louder and louder. His poor neighbors, hearing you both so vividly through the walls of the hotel. Yet he didn’t care who heard. As long as they knew that in this moment, you were his to take, that was all that mattered. Zemo moved his thumb to your clit, working the bundle along with the assault he laid on your sensitive spot deep within. Each clamp around him brought his own release to come closer and closer. “Cum for me, maus.” He demanded with a grunt, needing to feel you come undone to reach his own release. His words hit somewhere deep in you, the demand that was laced with a plea driving you to your second orgasm of the night. He groaned as he felt you clamp around him, the sensation alone causing him to remove himself from you and spill onto your stomach with a few quick pumps of his hand along his slick coated member. He pants, taking in the sight of you one final time for the time being. Messy, slickened by your own arousal and sweat. Your hair was messed up, your lips parted and panting. To add the cherry on top, you were coated in his release, a sight for sore eyes while you lay like this. He made you like this, and it swells his drunken ego. 

Slowly he eased down to lay at your side, bringing you in against him with an almost delicate kiss delivered to your temple. Your breathing slowly evened out, head resting against his chest as his fingers trail along your back, drawing imaginary patterns as his mind begins to blank. The alcohol was taking effect, causing him to enter a lull and for his eyes to flutter shut. As you lay there, catching your breath, you watch as he drifts away, a single question beginning to enter your sobering mind. 

“What have I done?”

Tag List: @darksxder | @mymagicsuitcase | @mischief-siriusly-managed | @alindeluce​