#why cant they just complete the mission and return home like intended?

[darthannie]

How will I, a fanfic writer, turn a depressing piece of media into something smutty?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Insubordination

Summary: After the events of Civil War, Steve and his team are stuck in their compound. Following a mission, you disagree with your stalwart leader but he does not take kindly to your defiance.

Warnings: dub/non-con and explicit sex (penetration, oral, and some toy play). Obviously 18+ (like this whole blog)

Note: Thanks to everyone who reads this and the anon who requested it. I hope it meets your expectations. I am excited, this is my first dark!one shot and featuring our very own Steverino Rogers. 

Side note: If anyone’s interested, I’m doing a raffle on my tumblr for five lucky readers for fics of their own. The contest can be found here: https://darkficsyouneveraskedfor.tumblr.com/post/184037591549/a-celebration

I’d love any comments and feedback. It means a lot and helps me out as a writer to know people are reading and even enjoying what I’m putting out. (Also, I had fun with this so I might even consider a sequel). So, here ya go! Some dark!Steve for y’all.

Steve had been silent since your return, even on the jet he had sat stewing in anger, you and Nat bracing yourselves for the storm. His broad shoulders were stiff, his back to you in his seat as his posture foretold his temperament. He still hadn't dropped the attitude, leading you and Nat through the halls into the briefing room, waiting for you to enter before slamming the door.  You stood in the briefing room, arms crossed, hip cocked, jaw clenched. You stood waiting for him, arms crossed, hip cocked, jaw clenched. He huffed, walking around to the head of the long table, pacing as if you weren't there. And so you prepared for his wrath, your own irritation rising.

Finally he stopped. He twisted sharply to face you and Nat, smacking his palms down on the table. As of late, this behaviour was not unusual. You were growing used to the sudden flip of the coin. Before, Steve had ever been the golden saviour but since your exile he had grown sullen; resentful of those who had chased him out. You and the rest of the team were the only targets he had to take his ire out on but you had faced worse. You had learned long ago to steel yourself against angry men.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he jabbed his finger in the air towards you, “I gave you an order!”

“A stupid one,” you snapped, “If I had listened to you, I’d have a broken leg right now or worse. And that civilian would be dead.”

He snarled. “This isn't a dialogue. I am your captain and you listen when I tell you to do something.”

“Not if it could mean my life. Or another's.” You shook your head and dropped your arms, hands settling on your hips, “Your the one who taught me to follow my gut.”

“I also tried to teach you common sense,” he rebuked, “But some things you just can't learn.”

“Steve,” Nat's dusky voice cut through the tension, “She's right. She had to do it. You cant expect her to just throw herself towards certain death.”

“And you,” he turned on Nat, “You always have to encourage her. The two of you are stubborn as hell. This is a team and we need to work together if we're going to make it. Understood?” Nat sighed but didn't respond. She had taken to keeping silent against the jaded super soldier. They all had.

“You mean we have to jump when you say so,” you scoffed, “How high, Captain?”

He pushed himself from the table, a scowl tightening his lips. He tilted his head slightly as he narrowed his eyes, mulling over your remark. He marched around the table and towards you, his chest rising as he planted himself in front of you. Your head barely reached his shoulders but you returned his glare in kind.

You saw the tic in his jaw, the one that appeared when he was most agitated. Your heart sped up but you kept your veneer. “Fine, next time you can stay home.”

“Are you--are you suspending me?” Your mouth fell open. Missions were the only thing that kept you sane these days. You were going stir crazy in the compound and your occasional sojourns outside were all you had to look forward to.

“We can call it that,” his voice was dangerous. You heard the leather of his gloves strain as his hands turned to a fist. “You're recklessness is too risky. You put the whole team in danger.”

“You put the team in danger. Your arrogance, your stubbornness.” You retorted, your brow drawn together in your anger. You were sure you looked like a wild animal. “Sometimes I think that you were compensating for something with that shield of yours because ever since you gave it up, you've been a complete jackass!”

Steve's blue eyes dilated. You could sense the struggle within to restrain himself. Nat’s hand rested on his arm and the sudden reminder of her presence jolted you. “You both need to cool down,” she warned, “We shouldn't be fighting each other.”

Steve stared down at you, his bottom lip bulged as he ran his tongue along his teeth. He slowly raised his open hands and backed away. “This isn't a fight. It's an order.” He raised a brow at you sharply, “Got it?”

“Whatever,” you turned away from him as Nat came between you and he slowly retreated, the door swinging open harshly as he left you.

“You shouldn't egg him on like that,” Nat said, leaning against the table. “It's better to just let him go off.”

“Jesus Christ, you guys treat him like a spoiled child. You're just going to let him keep on like that?” You grumbled, “I mean, I thought this was a two-way street. All of us gave up our lives for this man so he could save his best friend and what do we get? Treated like fucking scum. We're supposed to be allies not enemies.” You shook your head, “It's not like we can go back now. Everything we had is gone.”

“He'll get over this,” Nat touched your shoulder gently, “He's not mad at us. He's mad at the world. At himself.”

“No, he's not himself,” you countered pulling away from her, “He's not the same man he was… he's too far gone.”

----------

Steve hadn't been this angry in a long time. True, as of late he was easily riled, irritable even, but his blood was boiling. He tramped through the halls, the grime and blood of his mission still on his dark gear, huffing and puffing. He thought of Y/N staring up at him defiantly. She was barely tall enough to see past his chest and yet she had not wavered. She shouldn't be so obstinate. She should take his orders and thank him for even allowing her on his team. She was a valuable asset, sure, but it wasn't like he had no others. Her only talent was that she never knew when to stay down. It was why he had first taken to her, helped her refine her combat technique, vouched for her to Tony.

But he wasn't Stark's dog anymore. He was no longer in constant limbo with the man, arguing semantics. He was past those days and they all needed to accept that. He was in charge now and no one, not the government, not Stark, not even his team, could tell him no.

Upon reaching his room, he couldn't help but slam the door. He shouldn't care so much, he told himself as he peeled of his gloves. He undid the harness around his shoulders then his belt, he tossed the leather in a pile on the chair. He sat at the edge of the bed and pulled off his boots, growling as he thought of her. The spite that sparkled in her eyes, the challenge which set her jaw. God, he just wanted to hold her down and teach her a lesson. That's what she really needed, he thought as he pulled his heavy shirt over his head. She needed discipline. To learn to take orders. That pretty little mouth of hers needed to be silenced.

Steve inhaled deeply as he felt himself harden. His thoughts had strayed further than intended. He looked down at his erection as it pushed against the thick fabric of his pants. He was painfully hard. It had been months since he had felt true relief. He could only do so much for himself and with all the stress, sometimes he failed to bring himself to release. He was far too pent up and she had riled him further. The way her chest rose with her frustration, her hands on her hips, her lips pouted in her distress. 

This was her fault, he swore to himself. She needed to atone. He licked his lips as he saw her angry face again. He couldn't wait to see her crumble.

----------

You were too frustrated to be alone. You had quickly changed and found Sam as he sat in the same spot as the day before. He often wasted his time in front of the television, sinking into the couch as he made a mess of the coffee table. And he could always cheer you up with his lame jokes.

You fell asleep in the chair as your conversation died and the television droned on. You were content with silence and easily lulled into an uncomfortable nap. You were still rattled by the mission and the following interaction with Steve. It made you extremely infuriated and even more dispirited. Seeing him this way, so changed, was unsettling. You had always told him he needed to be more forceful but you'd never meant this. Only that he needed to show some fang when Tony jumped down his throat. 

You awoke with a start as vision of the super soldier's snarl filled your head. You needed sleep. A good night's rest and the heat would simmer down. Maybe Steve would apologise. Even if he didn't, you could at least hash this out like adults.

You stood and stretched, bidding Sam a good night as he fiddled with the remote. He muttered and you left him to fight with the shifty sensor. It was late. You expected to find Sam in the same spot tomorrow morning if not in the gym sweating away the boredom. You stretched as you neared the door. When you touched the handle you were suddenly on edge. The compound was so quiet. Eerie, even. Goosebumps covered your arms as you sensed something off. You couldn't quite place it. You slowly looked to your feet, a slat of light from beneath the door across your toes. You hadn't left your light on...had you?

You clasped the handle and slow turned it, edging inward as the air grew thicker. Anticipation burned around you, not all your own, and you held back a gasp as you found Steve standing with his back to you, your dresser drawer open as he examined an unseen object. Your blood froze.

He turned slowly, holding up the small metallic vibe with a smirk. “Lonely, are we?” he teased. Your nostrils flared and you raced forward, grabbing for the toy as he held it away from you easily.

“Jesus, Steve, give it to me,” you ordered.

“Why? You gonna use it for me?” he grinned.

“What the fuck is your problem? You have no right to go through my stuff. Or even be in here.”

“Without me you wouldn't have this room.” He easily held you at bay, his arm bent defensively to block you. “You wouldn't have this either.” He wiggled the toy in front of you before tossing it over his shoulder and it bounced noisily against the dresser. You stepped back as he lowered his arm and suddenly stepped closer. You didn't like the look in his eyes. “You best remember who brought you here. Who got you on the team in the first place.”

“Is that what you want? You want me to leave?” You took another step back as he closed in.

He grinned. It was unlike any look you had seen on his face before. “What I want is for you to close that door and apologize.”

“Me apologize?” Your eyes widened. ‘If anything, you're the one-”

You were interrupted as he lunged forward, pulling you to him and clapping his hand over your mouth. “I am your captain so you're going to listen to me. Close the door. Now!”

He released you and you stumbled back, steadying yourself as the heat rose along your neck and the air grew harder to breathe. You stared at him, your chest catching as you realized he was serious. You kept your eyes on him as you reached behind yourself blindly, closing the door slowly until it clicked. You gulped and looked at him, wiping your sweaty palms along your jeans.

“Well, I'm waiting’” he urged, watching you as closely as a predator. You had to collect yourself, your eyes searching for an escape. He was faster and stronger.

“I'm sorry?” Your voice cracked with uncertainty. If you said what he wanted to hear he'd leave...hopefully. You cleared your throat, “I'm sorry, okay? I should've listened to you.”

“You should've,” he neared and you pressed yourself against the door. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “So let's work on your listening skills.” The way his lips curved beneath his dark beard was unsettling. He let go of your chin and snaked his hand around to the back of your neck. He turned around and forced you forward, shoving you to stand just feet away from him. “Turn around and look at me.” He commanded and you hid your shock, quickly obeying.

The intensity of his stare made it difficult to meet his eye line. You tried to stay steady, fighting to keep your composure. “Take your shirt off.” He ordered as of it was a basic military task. You couldn't help the confusion which creased your forehead and he put his hands on his hips. “I gave you an order.”

He wasn't kidding. This wasn't a joke or a show. He really meant it. And he was now blocking the door. You wiped the epiphany from your face and hesitantly reached to the hem of your shirt. His eyes followed the movement, taking in every inch of flesh as it was bared. You swooped your shirt over your head and tossed it at him sharply. “Happy? You've proven yourself, okay? I get it, you're in charge.”

He ignored you and his blue eyes ran the length of your torso, lingering on your bra. “Pants too.” His tongue peeked out, running along his lip. The gesture stoked a heat which added to your shame. This was humiliating not arousing...at least it wasn’t supposed to be.

You blinked and carefully unbuttoned your fly and bunched the waist in the crook of your thumb and index. You pushed the jeans reluctantly down your legs. You couldn't look at him any longer as the curve of your thighs drew his attention and the cool air touched your skin.

“Ah, look at me.” He warned. You snapped your head up and your eyes burned at him as you untangled your ankles from the denim, your socks lost in the legs. You stood up slowly, hands at your side as you resisted the urge to hide your figure. Your plain white panties and matching bra were your only shield. “The rest, too.” His voice had turned thick, deeper. His blue eyes were as dark as the ocean and his focus on you was unnerving.

You sputtered by no words came out. Your mouth hung open as your eyes held his. He didn’t flinch. You snapped your lips shut and inhaled, stiffly reaching back to unhook your bra. As the metal loops were freed and the fabric loosened, Steve shifted slightly. You brought your hands up and slid the straps down your arms, uncovering your chest, and threw away the bra. Normally, it was a relief, but as your nipples hardened and a shiver ran down your back, you felt so vulnerable. He was intent on you, waiting with bated breath as you fumbled with the elastic of your cotton panties. You gave one last pleading look and he raised single brow, urging you on. He wouldn’t tell you again.

You bit the inside of your cheeks as you tugged down your panties, rolling them until they fell to the floor on their own accord. You searched him for an ounce of relent and his eyes devoured your body. He was moving towards you before you could react. You were backing away clumsily until you were backed up against the dresser. He stopped less than a foot away, staring down at you, his chest rising and falling as he grinned. “Take your hair down,” He growled and you shakily unlooped the hair tie, your hair spilling down. He seemed rather pleased by your swift response.

“On the bed,” He demanded, his tone heeding no refusal. Whatever sick idea he had concocted in the time since your argument, there was no shaking it. You only felt confused as the tickle it stirring deep inside of you. Like you actually wanted this to happen. As if this was perfectly acceptable solution to the fighting and tension between you. You made your way to the bed, doing your best not show too much as you climbed up onto it. “Face me. Now lay back.” You hesitated but did as he said. Before your head was completely reclined, you saw him reached for the disposed toy on the dresser. What the fuck?!

“Bend your legs,” Your knees bent easily, almost against your will. “Spread them.” That last order you were having trouble with. He would see everything...and you could guess he meant to do more than see everything. His hands pushed between your clenched legs and he forced them apart. You gasped and he chuckled. “As your captain, I expect you to listen.” He pinched your thigh and you squeaked. “What was that?” He pinched you again, “Did you say ‘yes, Captain’?”

Your lashes fluttered and your lips twitched before you managed to find your voice. “Y-yes, Captain.” You echoed.

“Good,” He praised, his hand spreading across your thigh, kneading the flesh as a click sounded and the sudden buzz of the toy filled the space. Your legs tensed but he kept you from closing them on him, his hand keeping your thigh in place as he grunted in warning. You pressed your lips together as he slowly trailed the head of the small vibe up your leg, drawing circles on your thigh, tracing the outline just along your pussy. Your fingers were buried in the duvet, gripping at it desperately as you tried to resist the building flurry within.

When the vibe touched your folds, you shuddered, cringing as he must have noticed. When it delved deeper, you struggled not to squirm, you were about to tear the duvet. You forced your fingers apart, palming the blanket instead as the muscles of your legs grew taught. As the vibrations met your clit, you barely held in the moan, a muffled whine. He circled your small bundle of nerves and your pelvis bucked. Stop! You were trying to control yourself but it was all too much, especially as he continued the motion, swirling and swirling until your teeth were clenched and your fingers had curled back into the duvet. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction and yet you couldn’t hide what he was doing to you.

“Now, show your captain that you can listen,” He dragged the vibrator across your clit, holding it flat so that the ripples built. “Cum.” He turned the vibe suddenly so that its tip was once more focused on your button and the ripples turned to reverberations, running from head to toe as you tilted your pelvis against the toy. “Mmm, good girl.”

As the orgasm passed and the after waves took you, he removed the toy and clicked it off. He left it once more on the dresser, this time shining with your juice. You remained prone on the bed, hiding your face as the embarrassment set in. What had he just done? What had you just done? You crossed your legs, ready to roll over and wait for him to leave, but he caught your ankles and forced your legs apart. “I didn’t say I was done with you.” His hands slipped down the back of your legs, resting on your thighs as he pushed your knees as high as the would go. He lowered his head, just above the little tuft that edged your pussy, and nuzzled it, almost as if inhaling your scent.  You turned your head away, hand on your forehead as the heat burned along your cheeks.

He delved into you suddenly, his tongue surprising you as it slipped between your folds. He hummed as he played with your clit, the oversensitive bundle buzzing at another go. You bent your legs so that you were almost crushing his hands and he curled your body further, giving himself better access. A long moan escaped your mouth and your hand clamped over your mouth. No.

“Go on,” He lifted his head. You looked down at him meekly. He had never made you feel so...inferior. His beard glimmered with your juices, the realization had the flames licking at your skin. “Moan for me.”

He dived back in and you dropped your head back down as he suckled on your clit. It was too much. The sensation was overwhelming; hypnotizing. After months in the compound with nothing but your vibe, the human touch was intoxicating. Your back arched as your nerves lit up and sparked, another orgasm taking you and this time you could not restrain the exclamation. “Oh, god!”

Steve slowly relented, lifting his head as he let go of your thighs. “No, I’m just a Captain,” He taunted, “But I can understand the confusion.”

You were panting, motionless as you grasped at your dwindling wits. In the corner of your vision, he undressed. Your hand was on your chest, trying to steady the ragged beating. You closed your eyes and counted. Just breathe. You opened them as the room went silent and you found Steve at the edge of the bed, his cock in hand as he slowly and deliberately stroked himself. His blue eyes ran the length of your figure and his tongue once more flicked across his lips. He was big. Like bigger than any you had seen before. And so thick. Your eyes widened as you watched him play with his himself, resting one knee on the bed as he prepared to climb up.

“Don’t worry,” He grinned, “I’ll take it easy on you for this exercise.”

You were up on your elbows again, trying to crawl backwards as your feet kicked at the mattress. You couldn’t take all of that. Well, your pussy would say otherwise as it throbbed painfully, bemoaning an emptiness you had been ignoring for far too long. Steve’s second knee came up and he caught your ankles again, dragging you close and moving his grip to your hips. He removed a hand to position himself, reaching down to run his cock along your clit to your entrance, rubbing it back and forth as he slicked the head. You bit your lip, another moan betraying you.

He lined his cock up to your entrance, pushing just the head inside, stretching you in a mixture of delight and discomfort. You inhaled, bracing yourself for the rest of him, his eyes shining at the colour in your face. As he went further, your fingers closed around the wrist of his hand which held you down at the hip. Your nails dug into his flesh as he forced his way in, your walls resisting at first only to accommodate him as they longed for more. You squeaked as he impaled you fully, your entire body numb except for your pussy which pulsed around him.

 “I’d say it’s been too long,” He rolled his hips, testing your limits. “Fuck, you’re tight.” He pulled back, pausing as only his tip remained inside of you. You blinked and looked down at his cock, wondering if he would just leave it at that. Maybe his game was over. He slammed back into you suddenly and you flung your head back, eyes rolling as you cried out. He purred in approval and thrust again, again, again. Every time your body contorted in response and both hands held you by your hips, guiding himself into you harshly, using your body easily, as if you weighed nothing. The sound of his flesh against yours filled the room and betrayed how wet you were.

He released your hips, grabbing your wrist as you grasped at the duvet and pinned them above your head, leaning over you as he continued to fuck you. Somehow, his motion only grew harder, deeper, faster. Your legs were limp, no resistance left in your muscles as he pounded into you. He put all his weight into each thrust as if he was punishing you. You were too far gone to feel the pain, your moans turning to gibbering as your head lolled around wildly. You were cumming again and you muttered some nonsense; maybe it was his name, maybe it was “Captain”. You didn’t know as orgasm after orgasm robbed you of your sense.

Your wrists were suddenly loose as Steve pulled out of you sharply, cupping his balls as he stroked himself to climax, his cum spurting out along your pelvis and seeping down towards your pussy. You were too weak to move, your fatigue returning as the adrenaline and ecstasy faded away. Steve gave a satisfied sigh as he looked over you splayed out like a rag doll.

He rounded the bed, bending so that he was looking down at you. He bundled your hair in his hand and forced your head straight. “So, the next time I give you an order, what do you say?” He asked.

“Y-yes, Captain,” You babbled and he chuckled.

“Very good,” He let your head fall back and stood, your eyes closing on their own accord. The haze clouded your vision and you saw only the distant blur as Steve moved around your chamber and dressed. The open and close of your door confirmed his departure and finally, you drifted off, images of the angry super soldier forming in a much different light.

[celestialholz]

‘A Non-Linear Perspective’, aka ya girl’s latest Qcard drabble

My new friend @tolstoyevskywrites requested a little thing last week, which I haven’t gotten round to quite yet (my baaaad), which runs a little like so:

Can I have a drabble where someone else in the crew finds out that Q and Picard are together? It can be Riker, Troi, Data, whoever you want xD

... Well, we all know I can’t answer a prompt like a normal human being at this point, right? Welcome to the madhouse, Tol - make yourself an Earl Grey, chuck, and strap in, won’t you? Because this is absolutely fucking ridiculous and I’m slightly in love with it. xD

It’s blissfully quiet, aboard this curious vessel she calls home.

It’s blissfully quiet, aboard this curious vessel she calls home. Radio silence broadcasts smoothly across the airwaves, delightfully absent of the orchestrated panic of its chief engineer; no one appears to be streaking through the outer corridors, their pointless existences in jeopardy; it’s perfectly still, not even the most microscopic of shudders trembling through the mainframe (that damned hum that her acquaintances seem so ignorant of persists, but she’s long since gotten used to that – it’s no barrier to a restful slumber). Even if her favoured person returns (time means nothing, ultimately – how long has he been gone? She doubts it’s quite long enough, in any case), he will be respectful of her weariness – after all, it’s incredibly difficult work doing so little, and there’s a reason why she so kindly tolerates him.

No, this is a rare experience indeed, and one she fully intends to appreciate. She stretches, lithe form extending itself completely for a moment, before she circles and settles, quite contentedly, atop the fleecy blanket of the bed. Its scent is mildly synthetic, accompanied by the faintest whiff of whatever was on that garish portrait across the bedroom. She closes her eyes rather deliberately against its offensiveness – honestly, all that effort for something so meaningless. Did it offer food? Entertainment? Strokes? Even the one depicted in it had seemed reluctant to praise its virtues.

She tucks into herself, drifting steadily off, the absolute tranquillity and joyful warmth permeating her completely. Perhaps she’ll dream of forests, or of crawling through Jeffries tubes, an exploratory mission of epic proportions; there’ll be mice in there somewhere, she just knows it –

Her eyes wrench open seconds before the oblivion she so craves, an obnoxious, echo-y sort of sound alerting her sensitive ears to something that appears to have been accompanied by an equally excessive flash –

She’s almost retroactively aware that she’s no longer cocooned by cosiness, and she levels her most malevolent glare and harshest snarl at the intruders as she recovers from being shoved so callously aside – how dare they, the human scum –

They’re desperately attached, mostly without clothing, scents permeating the perfectly pleasant air with biological pollution – supplement forty-six, how she hates them both! One of them wrenches back from the other, and she blinks curiously through a burning abhorrence – she knows that one. Her favourite respects him greatly – he’s important, somehow, though perfectly ordinary in appearance and aroma.

She’ll be damned to a hell of boisterous Dalmatians before she’ll defer to him, the utter bastard.

“Q!” He demands hotly. “Where the hell are we?!”

The other is significantly less tolerant of the distraction, apparently; she empathises entirely, although… she’s never seen him, but his scent – he’s not of this ship. She isn’t sure he’s of this galaxy; he smells not of confined conduits, or stress, or anything that she’s ever smelled upon another living soul. She understands these things, far better than the limited humanoids she occupies a space with, and it leads her to only one conclusion.

This is his fault. She fixes into a battle stance, glad of an official focus for her towering rage – she’s one against two, but one with one hell of a set of claws.

“Does it damned well matter, Jean-Luc? I’m slightly preoccupied – I’m sure you can empathise!” Her offender replies urgently, attempting to re-engage his companion – by the kingdom of rodents, this is more intolerable than her favourite and that other one! At least they feed her!

She flatly refuses to be ignored – grace befitting her position of superiority, she jumps back upon her rightful throne, claws itching to be extended into the neck of her usurper, glare toxic. The respected one turns to glance at her, and she releases a warning hiss for his troubles.

“Dear god,” he murmurs, eyes wide with horror. “We’re in Data and Geordi’s – what are we doing here, dammit?! Q!”

The evil one raises a brow, expression sheepish as he meets the venom of his newfound enemy; he’ll be fortunate if he has an expression left when she’s through with him.

“Ah,” he notes wryly, “I… may have been looking for a source of apathy, subconsciously. You’re rather overwhelming, mon capitan, and I imagine you’re quite partial to your galactic locality remaining intact.”

The important one’s eyes soften, much to her disgust.

“And there can be no greater apathy than a cat,” he finishes, amused. “A universal constant, apparently.”

“Oh, you’re about to discover exactly how apathetic I can be, humanoid wretch!”

She launches with planned spontaneity, at the most calculated moment, when the atrocity of a man will least expect it – he will pay, dearly, for his disturbance of her precious rest. She’s inches from his chest, claws extended fully, her very blood singing with the need for vengeance –

“Yes, no.”

The dismissive snap of his tone is followed swiftly by one from his fingers, and she never reaches her target. She’s left in situ, dangling precariously, the hateful gaze she’s directing at him returned almost as fiercely.

“I know you think you’re one, dear feline,” he spits, “but I actually am a god.”

“Q, let her go,” the other bites out coolly. He goes to protest, but thinks better of it; she’s released from the mystical prison of stillness, and she hisses bitterly for good measure.

“I will have my vengeance.” Her meow is pure rage as she realises she’s once again off the damned bed.

“Of course you will,” he drawls at her, unconcerned. “I trust you’ll keep your own counsel, furbag.”

Furbag?! The utter nerve! Her favourite had told her only earlier how pretty she was! Her grooming routine put felines the quadrant over to shame, the despicable –

“She’s hardly going to plough us through the ship’s gossip mill, Q,” the important one comments dryly, facing his companion with softness. “I assume you’ll be more cautious where you direct your apathy in future, however?”

She takes a moment from her current schedule of comprehensive incandescence to marvel at how the face of evil can look so warm.

“I shall endeavour to be a paragon of subtlety, my dear.”

They’re there one second, and she’s almost wrapped up her plan of sweet, sweet revenge; she’s sneaking cautiously, the very image of stealth, around the smooth fabric of the bedding, her movements gloriously quiet – he’ll rue every damned word –

She arrives back on the duvet just as they vanish with that same stupid noise and blinding flash, and she shrieks a hiss of pure fury.

“I’m telling everyone, you wait!” She screams. “Your empires shall crumble beneath my wrath!”

She flops, outraged, to the covering, starting at the sudden weight to her left; she flips up instantly, high on alert, and sniffs curiously.

… Oh. That’s supplement seventy-three, the one her favourite’s never quite managed to synthesise properly since that first wondrous occasion. Its aroma is divine, though the most intriguing snatch of eternity glimmers around it. Deciding to obey the will of her stomach rather than her natural caution, she tucks in with gusto, devouring it as though the soul of the victim that’s maddeningly disappeared.

She’ll get the bastard, one day – however delicious his pitiful offering was.

[yuletide-fehstivities]

@summonedhearts (Abby) wrote this for @unwaveriinghearts (BP)!

Happy Yuletide and a Merry New Year!

Dear Santa,

My name is Chrom, prince to the throne of Ylisse (if you were wondering where to find us) and I would like a sword for my present this year so I can train to be a knight alongside the Shepherds. Have you seen them? They're so cool! Mother worries about me getting in harm's way while I'm watching them so I want Frederick and the others to train me so I can defend myself and protect Ylisse. I've helped Mother and Father a lot this year as well as playing nice with Emmeryn and Lissa so I hope I'm on your nice list this year.

I'm not sure if this is allowed but, I'd like to ask you for presents for my sisters too, I don't know if Em's already written to you, but I know Lissa's been struggling with her writing lessons so I wanted to make sure her wish got to you. She'd really like some new boots, seeing as hers got scuffed from playing outside. Her pranks have been mostly forgiven and Em...I don't know what Em wants, I haven't seen her that much while Dad's been away at war again with Plegia. Mother's been giving her lessons in becoming the Exalt but I know she feels worried about the responsibility. I don't know if you can help, or if I've asked too much already, but I'd like to ask for their safety.

These letters are meant to be for toys and the such, aren't they? I'm sorry. I should scrap this and try again or at the very least, save this for Lissa’s imagination.

On the off chance this makes it to you, I wish you a safe flight over Ylisse - oh, and thank you!

Yours faithfully,

C,

His Majesty, Prince Chrom of the Kingdom of Ylisse (Age 7)

Dear Santa,

I am aware it has been some time since I last wrote to you - perhaps a childish thing of me to do now and yet, I find a small solace in writing to you now in a rare moment of peace here. First, I must thank you for your response to my previous letter. The sword you gifted me has been a perfect fit and joining the Shepherds has been, well, a dream come true if I am to be frank. Lissa adored her new boots, so much so that I fear they are being held together by mere strings at this point though her attachment to them is something fierce. As for Emmeryn, ever since our mother’s passing she has taken the role of Exalt with her usual grace though alone, it is clear to see the toll it is taking upon her and still--she continues to provide nothing but the best for me and Lissa. I cannot thank her enough, nor convey my gratitude enough for her actions over these past few years in words alone.

I apologize for the tone this note has taken, but as a prince, soldier and brother, I can only do my very best in return for both of my sisters. I must fight to keep my family and the people of Ylisse safe on the battlefield, while Emm keeps them safe in her throne. Lissa has already expressed an interest in joining the Shepherds when she is of age though I believe her talents lie best in that of the medical arts following her training with Emm and mother, before she passed.  I want to keep her safe, yet I know this is a never-ending struggle, the same my mother must have felt as she watched over us all, no doubt.

Yule is fast approaching, as I’m sure you’re well aware. I can’t wait for the holiday celebrations here though we are scarcely permitted to visit the markets and attractions without ample protection. Frederick, our chief, worries too much though, if what Father says is to be true, then the wars with Plegia are unlikely to stop at our agreed borders should they get so close. I want to trust him - after all, he risks himself in a cause we know so little of and yet, it is hard to justify it as anything more than a pre-emptive strike against Plegia when, for once, they have done nothing to warrant such a war.

Perhaps, if we are lucky, there will be a mission to the celebrations at some point though I don’t hold high hopes. I just need to eat something other than bear.

Yours faithfully,

C,

His Majesty, Prince Chrom of Ylisse (Age 15)

Dear Santa,

I sincerely apologize for the gaps between my writings to you though perhaps it is silly I am still writing to you at all  given your usual dealings are with that of children. These past few years have been hard upon all of us. I am afraid to come to you with grave news - the Exalt, my sister, Em, is no longer with us. Killed as a pawn in the Plegian’s game for whatever war they intend to wage with us now. I have had trouble sleeping for some time - at first, from my promotion to Captain of the Shepherds and now, I am plagued by nightmares though to call them fictional would hardly be apt in the circumstances.

Things have truly changed a lot since my last letter to you. Lissa has joined our company now, serving us greatly as a Cleric following the completion of her medical studies though she continues to grow stronger each day - not least after recent events, if we are to be truthful.

I must also tell you of another person of great significance in my life though I fear it’s tale is as big as some of yours, though I insist, it is truth in these trying times. Her name is Robin. She is truly magnificent - skilled with tome, sword, brains and beauty alike. It was Lissa who first noticed her unconscious on one of our patrols though I must admit, at first, my fears were that of the worst. Frederick the Wary naturally advised caution, but following several trials of her trust, she has been an invaluable ally in this senseless war.  It is not a fact I have shared with Lissa or any other of the Shepherds for that matter but it is her resolve and guidance that has refocused my mind on our original mission. In truth, I have since spent many hours with her - planning our next steps to victory or further training, of a manner, though I must admit our first few interactions after meeting were less than proper for a man and woman though now, I am pleased to call us friends. Continuing my original point, meeting Robin has been nothing short of a miracle - between her optimism, strategy and belief in all of us, there is little I can say that would do it justice.  

If it wasn’t already obvious, as Lissa has taken care to point out, although I believe in jest for now, I cannot part my mind from her, what I mean to say is, I believe I’m in love.

The future ahead is uncertain and I have to admit to not knowing where it may lead, but, if I may, if it is proper for a man of my age to still be making holiday wishes then I wish for peaceful passage into the coming year and safety for those back  home. It is not an easy wish, nay, one that I am also working towards though one I am optimistic will come, nay, has to come if we are to succeed.

Yours faithfully,

C,

His Majesty, Prince Chrom of Ylisse (Age 19)

Dear Santa,

It has been difficult to put my thoughts into words as of late, so I am attempting to write this in a format that has brought me such comfort on prior occasions.  Time has again passed since my last letter to you - a small symbol of the change that has occurred in it’s boundaries if I am to truly bring my last letter up to speed.  Our battles did not end at Ylisse and Plegia, why, upon reflection, it felt as if they had barely started there - given the mount of our task to come.

Our numbers have grown considerably since we last talked - allies to our cause ran far and wide as things turned out, be it that they owed the Exalt of Ylisse a debt, expressed an interest in helping our cause voluntarily or in others, well, there were others with other motives, it rather pales in comparison to the reason I feel I need to address all this with you. In those that joined our party, my daughter, from a future far bleaker than our own, travelled back in time to prevent a future that would have doomed us all. In pursuit of that, a version of Robin, intertwined with our own from her future also returned, yet, it was one who had accepted the soul of the Fell Dragon, Grima upon my passing at her hands -  the grim future Lucina spoke of in her previous warnings. In her future, we had all fallen as a result of the battle and yet, in our own, we held the power to change it.

Robin, my closest ally, my friend through all of this, my wife, my dearest love, the trials we have faced appeared relentless and I nary say they are unlikely to end now although, perhaps, if I may submit one request, not on the scale of our previous endeavours, hm? I never could keep up with you.

You gave everything to ensure all of us had a future and for that, mere words will never be enough. I can only hope that each of us living to protect this future was the outcome you wished for too, no, I know it.

I know little of magic, not least that which appears to be above mere mortal bounds though if I may ask one final wish of you, however foolish it may seem, I know Robin lives - whatever time, whenever is right, I ask that you return her to us safe and sound so that we may fight for this future together, as a family and with our friends.

Our adventures here will not end, not now as we face the prospect of a new future - one of our own design and one that we may share the joy in, together, upon your return.  

Yours, as ever,

C,

His Royal Highness, Exalt Chrom of Ylisse (Age 22)

Dear Santa,

Thank you.

Yours faithfully,

C,

His Royal Highness, Exalt Chrom and Queen Robin of Ylisse (Ages 23 and 25 respectively)

[bangtanata-blog]

I have a dumb idea to start this crack-ish snow white au fic lmao more details under

- warning: it’s a shipping fic. taekook / yoonmin / namjin. hints of 2seok?

so in favor of the Go Go dance practice video, these are the members’ roles:

taehyung: snow white

seokjin: the ‘evil’ queen?

hoseok: the mirror????

namjoon: the hunter

jimin, yoongi: dwarfs?

jeongguk: the prince

headcanons bc i may end up not writing the full length fic, but i need to put some of my ideas here so i dont forget it:

- taejin are actually brothers. jin is the older one so he takes the role as king, even though all he wants really is to be a chef or a gourmet but everyone cant have what they want right

- taejin actually get along; they’re best buds, taehyung is clingy toward his big brother and jin is just rather willing to pamper his little brother, even though he complains about having to take care of tae literally all the time. loudly. with body gestures and all

- the plot(?) starts when jin gets tired of taehyung being cooped up in the palace all day long, all year long. it’s just not healthy and he’s worried and he really wants tae to get some friends his age aside from the princesses and princes trying to take tae’s hand in marriage. he’s tempted to sing for the first time in forever while he throws taehyung out, but he doesn’t. being the brilliant king he is, he asks his trusted right hand man who resides in a mirror(?), hoseok

- hoseok gives this brilliant idea to pretend to try to get rid of tae by hiring a clumsy hunter who really should be a politician with his brain power in jin’s opinion but well, anyway, namjoon is hired.

- jin may or may not be staring too long at his dimples.

- hoseok teases him for it.

- “not a word, hoseok.” “yes, yes, of course, Your Royal Majesty.”

- namjoon meets taehyung in the gardens.

- namjoon’s first words to taehyung are literally an awkward “uh. hey. i was sent to kill you, so. uh. bye?”

- taehyung’s first response is to stare. blankly. a long, long while until namjoon starts to sweat in nervousness.

- taehyung: “why?” namjoon: “bc you dont have any friends” as if that makes any sense.

- in taehyung’s head, it does.

- after processing that, he runs.

- when he runs, he runs fast.

- NYOOM. to the forest he goes.

- he doesn’t hallucinate about the demon trees but he may or may not cry in his mind a little bit over how his big brother is bullying him. with no actual malice intended. he decides to find some friends, dammit, he’ll find friends, and he’s going to yodel back to the palace with his friends, he vows to do just that.

- jin sneezes.

- hoseok: bless you, your majesty. jin: -sniffs- thank you

- taehyung climbs a huge tree to escape namjoon’s vision.

- namjoon may or may not half asses his attempt to kill taehyung (he knows a doting big brother when he sees one, okay, and he’s fairly sure he was hired because of his notorious clumsiness so he won’t really kill the prince)

- namjoon shrugging his shoulders when it’s near night time (whatever, his mind supplies, i can look for him tomorrow and give him some soup or something) and proceeds to return to the palace to report to the king

- probably gets distracted by the palace’s library and proceeds to read the books

- hoseok: you should probably check the library. jin: and why ever should i do that?

- jin does it anyway. may or may not trips over his own foot when he sees namjoon reading books in his library.

- let’s leave the love birds alone for now. back to tae.

- he finds a nice cozy house in the forest. shamelessly breaks in. not even three steps in the house, there’s someone pointing a shot gun at him. another person saves his life, literally, by calming the grumpy man down.

- grumpy man is yoongi, who is naturally suspicious at tae bc you broke into my house when im trying to sleep, asshole; tae simply replies to that with a boxy grin.

- his savior is jimin, who truthfully also just wants to sleep so he doesn’t want to deal with his boyfriend killing a random trespasser just yet. vmin becomes close friends in a matter of, like, twenty minutes or so over conversation. yoongi despairs.

- taehyung may or may not poke fun at yoongi’s height.

- yoongi: jimin is literally the same height as i am. taehyung: yeah, but he’s cute, you’re just grumpy, hyung.

- jimin is certain he’s in love (platonically).

- platonic soulmates shenanigans ensue. yoongi wants to bang his head to the wall. he just wants to sleep, please let him sleep, oh god someone save him.

- taehyung successfully completes his mission to get friends.

- he just needs to convince them to yodel back to the palace.

- yoongi: no. taehyung: but-- yoongi: no. taehyung: you just have to dance-- yoongi: no.

- and so his next mission is to convince the two men to agree to yodel in their way back to the palace. at the moment, he decides some sleep overs are necessary.

- a few days later, an antsy jin decides to check up on tae, no matter if hoseok the magical mirror tells him that tae is fine and he’s having fun. jin just gotta.

- jin either dresses himself up as jack sparrow like that one dance practice video or he just walks to yoonmin’s house like the royalty he is. probably gets there in the middle of another platonic soulmate shenanigans.

- jin and yoongi share a mutual look of understanding. it’s an iconic moment.

- vmin are monsters when they’re excited. why does he let this happen? oh right, because he wants his little brother to have friends.

- jin and yoongi may or may not are actually p soft over vmin bonding, they’re just soft inside over how happy vmin are.

- a prince riding on a black horse barges in. it’s jeongguk.

- he’s a bit pissed bc his father sent him to try to court taehyung into marriage for political reasons and when he gets to the palace nobody’s home except for the servants. hoseok, who is eating grapes in his mirror (jeongguk pauses a little bit at that view bc how the fuck???) helpfully tells him the yoonmin address.

- yoongi despairs over how his address is just freely given to everyone right now. god, what is his life?

- jeongguk tries to be mad at taehyung bc he’s supposed to court him and he doesn’t want a marriage without love but then taehyung sends him a sheepish grin and jeongguk’s heart may have stopped for a few moments

- vmin extends their hands of friendship toward jeongguk. he readily agrees. (it’s better than marriage anyway; jeongguk is actually a little bit lonely and shy, and he’ll be happy to get friends)

- the maknae line is now complete. let another shenanigans begin.

- namjoon comes late to the party while bringing hoseok in a hand mirror.

- taehyung excitedly introduces hoseok the hand mirror to jimin.

- sunshine line screaming excitedly. with jeongguk chuckling behind tae, his eyes fond.

- yoongi, jin and namjoon share another Look of Understanding between them.

- they go back to the palace with promises to play together some more.

- yoongi does not yodel. jimin might have, though, simply because he wants to make taehyung happy.

- okay, yoongi may end up doing some weird dances when he’s in the mood with hoseok playing as his cheerleader while he does so. he also ends up bonding with the rest of the rap line.

- yoonmin still lives in the forest; but they do visit the palace from time to time.

- namjoon may end up asking jin’s hand on a date.

- their first date is cooking in the kitchens. much yelling is heard from the kitchens bc thats not how you drain it no NONONO namjoon-ah i told you to slice them not dice them wHY ARE YOU PUTTING YOUR HANDS IN IT NAMJOON-AH accompanied with some praises from jin tbh bc he’s soft

- jeongguk visits a lot. he may ends up having a crush on taehyung a few months later.

- the fic ends with hoseok eating another grapes in the mirror

- the end