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thewebcomicsreview · 9 months ago

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Hamsteak? Again? God, everything happens so much, but at least we're done with Vriska. And I can copy and paste text again. Wowsers. Anyway we're out of hell and now we're with The Moms, in a suspiciously green-and-orange environment.

ROSE: This is an impressive shield. ROSE: I don't think I've ever seen you make one this size before. JADE: ive been practicing! JADE: if i stay focused i should be able to keep it up for quite a while.

Oh hey, starting us right off with Deepest Lore, as Jade can apparently make shields. We've never really seen her "natural" Witch of Space powers in the original comic, since she was using First Guardian powers the whole time (or no powers and just gadgets like the soothspecs, back before everyone became X-Men). I've been wondering what she could do au natural, and...apparently it's shields? Would not have called that, but sure.

JADE: between yiffys capture and rescue and finding dave... JADE: like that... JADE: i just feel like my life flashed before my eyes and it made me a little crazy! JADE: after being unconscious for a bit things feel way clearer now

It's still weird to me that Dave's "death" was so recent to the characters. That was in the epilogues! We made a sequel series since then! It got cancelled! Then it got revived! It was a long time!

JADE: after being unconscious for a bit things feel way clearer now ROSE: Nothing beats a rump to the skull for mental clarity. JADE: the mistakes we made are so obvious to me now JADE: embarrassingly obvious!

Being unconscious is Jade's natural state, so naturally it heals her. Also I detect a justification for a small change in Candy Jade's characterization here, like she'll be acting differently that she has been and this is the excuse. Lets stick a pin in that thought, though.

JADE: this whole situation is my fault and even though it just keeps getting more frustrating and shitty im going to do right by you JADE: were going to figure this out ROSE: Are you sure it's prudent to keep this amateur marriage counselor performance up? JADE: rose... JADE: youre taking this seriously JADE: right? ROSE: I don't know what you mean by that.

I really do like this characterization of Candy Rose, though (which is apparently also a slight retcon from the original plans, according to the writer commentaries). None of this is real, so she doesn't give a shit about any of it. Her mid-life crisis is worse than John's.

JADE: though playing stupid and cajoling her into slapping me around for catharsis wont work anymore JADE: well have to think of something else... ROSE: Jade, I've been compliant with these clumsy machinations partially because they weren't all that consequential at the time, but you need to cut your losses.

Oh we are hard retconning Candy Jade's personality here. She's not an emotional wreck at all, at least part of it is her clumsy attempt at being Machiavellian. Are they building up to changing Yiffy's backstory, far and away the least popular idea in HS2?

JADE: "ohhhh bluh bluh blah i can see the fruitlessness of all our clumsy insignificant thrashing in fates cosmic current" JADE: dont forget im more than a little versed in future sight myself ok JADE: i dont care how credible it seems, you cant depend on that information!

Opens Homestuck_2_Speculation.rtf.doc.xpf.bro

What information is this, Jade? Is it related to the visions Calliope had that let her build the machine? The only future sight Jade's ever had is the clouds of Skaia

JADE: "abloo hoo hoo, my life is a monkey paw, everything i want hurts me in the end" ROSE: It was a little pathetic. JADE: I KNOW!

Oh man, that's going back deep.

This aspect of Jade, that deep down she's a bit of a wreck but she toughs it out because she hates her own weakness, hasn't really been focused on since Act 4 of the original comic when it got personified in Jadesprite. It's nice to see that aspect referenced again here. I liked Jade's speech justifying Yiffy's existence, it did a lot to make that plot point go down smoother, but I totally buy that Jade herself hated it. Kind of funny that we had six updates of Vriscourse and now I have way more to say about this one expository speech out of Best Girl, but Jade's actually a pretty complex character and her issues are so often glossed over as "Wow she had to live in isolation for three years after her brother and boyfriend randomly exploded and that's kind of sad I guess", so it's nice to spend some time inside her head like this.

JADE: the truth is whatever people WANT to believe JADE: you can either try forcing them to understand your side JADE: leave it completely in their hands and take no responsibility JADE: or you work with their wants and perspectives JADE: and make some informed compromises ROSE: Over the state of reality? JADE: rose i am begging you can you please cut it out with all the cryptic cosmic crap and come back down to earth???

One of my pet peeves of the epilogues is that Dave Strider turns into a Bernie Sanders supporter and keeps talking about "neoliberalism" despite living in a wacky future utopia planet and having never lived through the 2016 Democratic Primary that all his talking points were cribbed from, but we have an explanation for that now. It's his wife. Jade was the neoliberal all along.

JADE: thats whats scaring me! JADE: youre not prepared for how bad it can get JADE: you have no idea at all!!!!!!!!!!! ROSE: If you say so.

That was a joke but this is sounding a little suspiciously like voting discourse, but that might just be me being election-brained. God I'm so stressed, please vote for Harris if for no other reason to make Trump-analogue Jane Crocker feel dated and weird.

Jade has no idea what she’s talking about. There’s not a thing to worry about here. You came out the womb playing defense

You didn't come out of a womb at all. You've never even been in one. Also holy shit this page is called Rose: Ramble and it's early-HS2 levels of Wall of Text, though I think you're actually intended to glaze over it a little.

It doesn’t really matter, in the long run. Important or not, Vriska’s going to fail. Jane’s going to fail, too; really, just about everyone is going to fail to do something that really matters. In an unsuccessful effort to stave off that failure, and perhaps to atone for it on some level, Calliope will sacrifice herself, fruitlessly. You’re not exempt from the firing squad, either. In the imminent battle, you are going to be shot in the head, the bullet burying deep into your moral grey matter and jamming up the works of your conditional immortality, leaving you confined to a hospital bed. You had to pull all kinds of ridiculous, eyebrow-raising Chaos Theory shit to figure that one out. The rat-tail was worth it, your daughter’s anguish aside.

It's generally considered bad writing to have a prophecy not come true, but I think this is bullshit and Rose's Seer of Light powers don't work in a land of pure void.

KANAYA: Those Two Will Not Be Joining Us On The Battlefield Either KARKAT: OH? KANAYA: I Know Such Decisions Are Well Above My Pay Grade And That The Critical Need To Win This Battle Far Outweighs My Marital Discomfort KANAYA: And Being Down Two Gods Isnt Exactly Ideal KANAYA: But... KANAYA: I Cant KANAYA: Sorry KARKAT: DON'T BE.

KARKAT: FUCK ‘EM.

Man, Punished Karkat is cool.

Man, I love how stupid Jane's death ray looks. It's a cake!

Your father never did voice any kind of opinion on your parenting style. In hindsight, he was probably avoiding the subject altogether.

It's hard to talk with your dad when he's not allowed to have any dialogue due to stylistic convention. I have that issue with my uncle.

JAKE: Oh. JANE: chhhhhhhhlmm nnnn. JAKE: OH CRIPES! JAKE: I'M SORRY JANEY!!! JANE: kkkkkkkkaaaaaa?? JAKE: JUST- S-STAY STILL OK?

lmao. This is the absolutely best way this assassination attempt could've gone.

This art is excellent.

Man, this was a great update, Jesus. So much shit is going on, and while HS2 and HS:BC have had good moments this is the first time in a long while I've really had that classic Homestuck feeling that made me fall in love with the comic in the first place.

#Homestuck 2 #Homestuck Beyond Canon #Homestuck #Stop having three names for your fucking comic #Homestuck Liveblog

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sanityshorror · 3 years ago

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Killian Lynch

'The Man with the Scarred Neck'

Ref art (2023)+ torso anatomy:

Killian demon (current) & human (previous) headshots:

Realistic depiction of Killian in his current appearance and his past appearance when he was alive:

You can talk to Killian here: @killianlynch

About Killian Lynch:

Killian Lynch is main antagonist in 'The Man with the Scarred Neck' [ genre: splatterpunk (horror subgenre) ] . The Man with the Scarred Neck is available in physical copies and digital editions:

He appears in the introductory three page comic: LYNCH: Here's Killian! as the narrator and antagonist.

Killian briefly appeared as an unnamed antagonist in The Dressmaker from Hell [creepypasta version]. He will also appear in the upcoming reboot of The Dressmaker from Hell, which will be a splatterpunk book (like the Man with the Scarred Neck is).

Character Information Below Cut:

Full Name:

Killian Lynch

Alias(s):

The Man with the Scarred Neck

'Boss'

Killy (Julius's nickname for him)

Species:

Demon; incubus

Natural proxy

Age:

26 (locked)

150+ (true(

Birth Date:

May 1, 1872

Death Date:

December 8, 1898

Revived as demon:

Jan 8, 1899

Gender:

Male (cis)

Pronouns:

He/him

Sexual Orientation:

Pansexual; attracted to femininity, not gender

Height:

6'6½" barefoot

6'9" in boots with hair up

Weight:

225+ pounds (all muscle)

Hair:

Strawberry blonde

loose curls

long

worn in high ponytail

Eyes:

Entirely electric blue, no iris or pupil.

Body Type:

Extremely muscular

broad shouldered

Lean bodybuilder

Attire:

red button down shirt;

Purple, brown and gold vest

white fitted pants

Brown and gold belt

Brown and gold, knee high, heeled boots

Ethnicity:

Irish

Place of Birth:

Dublin, Ireland

Current Residence:

Dohertys's Dress Shop/pocket dimension of hell

Occupation:

Boss of the [Irish] Boston Mob

Proxy to Julius

Notable Features:

Large scar on neck

skin discoloration on lips and around eyes

Piercings include: earlobes, right nostril, tongue (Killian wears simple gold studs for all piercings)

Various tattoos

•extremely visible scar on neck where his throat was slit (cause of death); discoloration around eye sockets and very pale due to being undead; his eyes; small gold nose stud and earrings.

When Killian becomes enraged, he appears more corpse like. the scar on his neck opens and will begin to bleed.

Going too long without ‘feeding’ (killing) causes Killian to become weak and his body will no longer be solid as well as turn physically translucent.

Personality:

psychopathy (to the extreme)

Authoritarian

arrogant

Hypocritical

Manipulative

Powerful

Controlling

Domineering

Extremely high self control

calculated

Obsessive

charming

sweet talker

Extremely intelligent and genius (IQ of about 160)

Cruel

Scheming

Selfish

Vulgar language

God-complex

Angered easily (though he has high self control and will appear calm…until he is not.)

Sadistic

Hyper Sexual

Perverted

misogynistic

violent

On rare occasions, Killian can be extremely kind and genuinely empathetic towards others

On the rare occasion Killian is around children, he is shockingly extremely protective of them.

Catchphrase:

“I’m back… remember me, bitch?”

Notable phrases:

“We have an unbreakable bond, not even death could separate us.”

“Good men do bad things. Bad men do good things. I am a very bad man.”

"Ya wanna see a real fuckin' monster? Here I goddamn come."

“Keep my fuckin' name outta yer shittin' mouth, ya already fuckin' got me in it so goddamn much I gotta ask - how the fuck's my dick taste?”

[Speaking on the Italian Mafia] "Fuckers ain't just a thorn in my side! 'lot more like a fuckin goddamned icepick jammed right the hell up my fuckin' cock hole!"

Likes:

Having power and control over others and/or situations

Attention so long as it doesn't inconvenience him

Wealth

Having high status

Sex

Education

Studying history

Ancient Rome, specifically Julius Caesar

Working out

Looking good

Yelling

Riding horses

His car, 'Betty'

Hurting others

Talking; Killian never shuts up

Guns and other weaponry

Getting creative with swear words

Dislikes:

His authority being called into question, in any manner

Being pestered

People 'touching' anything Killian sees as belonging to him

Not being held on a pedestal

Women's rights

Any form of rejection

Questions regarding his fitness/health obsession

Looking sloppy

Expressing emotions in ways other than through anger

His mother being brought up

Thinking about his childhood so far as his upbringing/home life

Child abuse

Keeping his mouth shut; he only learned how after getting pistol whipped in the mouth at 21 after he ran his mouth one too many times

Family Members:

Claire Lynch - ex wife (deceased)

Unnamed father (deceased)

Aine Lynch - mother (deceased)

Riley Lynch - half brother (?)

Liam Lynch - half brother (deceased)

Cian Lynch - first child and son (alive)

James Lynch Sr - son (deceased)

James "Jim" Lynch Jr - grandson (deceased)

Countless other children

Relationship Status:

Relationship: Julius the Dressmaker

Killian is extremely emotionally faithful to Julius

Killian does constantly cheat physically, having meaningless sex, mainly with women

Shockingly, Julius is not bothered by Killian's sleeping around

Friendships/Allies:

The Hellcrew

Julius the Dressmaker (Julius Doherty) © @sanityshorror

Cian Lynch © @sanityshorror

Devlin Doherty © @sanityshorror

Octavian Doherty © @sanityshorror

Sullivan Sweeney © @sanityshorror

Luce Delay © @sanityshorror

Nevan Walsh © @sanityshorror

Duvessa Doyle © @sanityshorror

Rian Doherty © @sanityshorror

Enemies:

The (Italian) Mafia

More coming soon

Type of killer:

Kills due to being involved in organized crime; there are "reasoning" behind this

homicidal necrophiliac; Killian murders victims in the middle of intercourse

kills when enraged without reason

kills for his own amusement/pleasure

Method:

Killian quite literally feeds off the suffering of others.

He does this by draining positive emotions from and inflicting harm on victims during intercourse with them.

This is done by physically inflicting pain and suffering, going as far as causing the victims death.

Killian murders by slitting the throats of his victims with the embedded glass shard on his cane, which he calls "Bethany".

It is the same glass shard that Julius used to slit Killian’s throat when he murdered him.

Killian supernaturally feeds off the suffering he causes throughout all this

Weapons of choice:

"Bethany," a hardwood cane with embedded glass shards

"Mercy," his revolver/pistol

Motivation:

Being the boss of the Boston Mob

His own enjoyment

Fulfilling his God complex

Sexual gratification

Kill Count:

Thousands

Crimes:

Assault

Assault with a deadly weapon

Sexual assault

Sexual violence

Rape

Necrophilia

Domestic violence

Human trafficking

Drug trafficking

Crime ring kingpin

Murder

Serial killer

Public indecency

Grand theft

Arson

Gang (mob) related crime & activity

Kidnapping

Stalking

Illegal weapon trafficking

Sex trafficking

Countless other crimes

Strengths:

Immortal

Inhuman strength

Powerful

Extremely high intelligence

Mind reading

Mind control

Weaknesses:

Killian's physical weakness is going too long without ‘feeding’ (killing) causes Killian to become weak and his body will no longer be solid as well as turn physically translucent.

Killian's emotional weakness is any talk of mothers as well as detailed knowledge of child abuse - especially the younger child. He will lash out in anger as an initial response and blow up. However, later and once alone, he'll completely break down from the memories of his own childhood.

While Killian's use of cocaine and alcohol doesn't impact his ability to function and he somehow manages to control the addiction

he is a servere sex addict which Killian will acknowledge impacts his daily life and responsibilities, though he doesn't see it as a negative.

Backstory:

Killian grew up in a single mother household, with two older brothers, however all three children had different fathers, none of which they even knew. This resulted in his family being very looked down upon and shunned, due to how single mothers were viewed in the Victorian era. Killian's family was very impoverished and his mother neglected him, while his brothers would often pick on him as a child. The way he was treated at home influenced largely his behavior as he grew up, turning Killian into an extremely mean and perpetually angry person. All throughout his life, Killian was a career criminal. After immigrating to America in 1893, he joined the Mob (aka Irish Mafia), quickly rising in the ranks. Within a few years he was the boss of the Boston mob.

Killian knew Julius when they were growing up and the two lived next door to each other. He's two and a half years older than Julius. Through childhood and into adulthood, Killian and Julius shared an extremely tight knit bond. The platonic friendship turned into physical intimacy in their adulthood and eventually wound up in love. However neither of them like to acknowledge the feelings, even to themselves. Despite this, it's clearly obvious through the actions of the two how they truly feel, such as when Julius's family immigrated to America – Julius helped sneak Killian onto the boat with them. Neither of them could bare the idea of being separated.

Killian has severe anger issues and is even more of an asshole than Julius. Given that, when he and Julius would get in fights, it would be over the top and get very violent. He is more or less responsible for influencing many of Julius's negative life choices. Such as, hooked on drugs and alcohol, engaging in risky and harmful behaviors, commiting crimes of violent nature, etc. Despite their violent and often fights, and general mistreatment towards each other, Killian saved Julius's life when he attempted suicide after the birth of Octavian.

(Death)

When Killian was 26 and Julius was 23 (only weeks before Julius's (24th) birthday & death date the two got into an explosive, physical fight fueled by cocaine and alcohol. Julius threw the first punch due to Killian accidentally knocking a glass off his table and breaking it. Things escalated quickly into their most brutal fight It ended when Julius, in a blind fueled in a fit of rage and completely black out drunk, used a shard of the broken glass to slit Killian's throat, murdering him.

Killian is an undead, natural proxy to Julius He returned from the dead when Julius was revived as a demon, as well as the other people Julius had murdered in his life time (most of which were committed by Julius and Killian together.)

To quote Killian, "we have an unbreakable bond, not even death could separate us." Julius and Killian were together in life, and are locked to the other in death – their souls are quite literally intertwined.

Additional Information:

Killian is fluent in three languages. Gaelic (native language), English, and Latin. His preferred language is Latin and often chooses to speak it whether others can understand him or not.

He has a very strong value for intelligence, knowledge and education. Though Killian never attended a single day of any formal education, he dedicated and continues to dedicate as much time as possible to studying in order to educate himself. This has resulted in Killian becoming extremely well versed and knowledgeable on countless subjects.

Killian is fascinated and rather obsessed with Ancient Rome, specifically Julius Caesar. He's extensively educated himself on all history pertaining to Ancient Rome and, of course, Caesar. Killian's knowledge on the subject is so extensive that he is on par with holding PhD. Ancient Roman history is the reason he taught himself to fluently speak, read and write Latin.

One of Killian's favorite hobbies is horse riding. The two horses he owned at the time of his death wound up becoming frozen in time with him and Julius. They reside in a stable attached to the back of the dress shop, rendering it part of the Hell pocket dimension. His horse's names are Snow and Cooper.

Killian has extraordinarily high charisma and superficial charm. He gives off a "God-like" presence, according to those who have had close encounters with him or were able to recount the experience before dying at his hands.

His level of self control is impossibly high, with the exception of sex. However, despite his sex addiction being completely out of hand and causing many, many interruptions to his responsibilities and failure to function properly, Killian has convinced himself that is not a problem because he enjoys engaging in sex acts so frequently.

His hypersexuality can be attributed to extreme childhood trauma, a fact Killian is well aware of.

Killian is hyper aware of himself, surroundings, past, and consequences to any actions he may take. Additionally, his memory is exceptionally strong and photographic. He forgets nothing.

Outwardly, Killian seems to have everything together but deep down, he is a complete wreck with countless problems he bottles up and represses. And problem he can't hide from others and/or himself, Killian manages to spin it to a positive even when it's clearly not.

Killian loves to be a villain, he basks in it. He enjoys making people fear him and will become enraged should anyone attempt to treat him as redeemable or excusable.

He does have quite a sense of humor and enjoys joking around, though he is quite edgy and dark in his sense of humor.

Killian smokes constantly, a true chain smoker, he immediately lights a new cigarette after finishing one.

His preferred drinks are Whisky and Bourbon.

Killian is the boss of the [Irish] Boston Mob, rendering him a kingpin of organized crime.

Fun Facts:

Killian's character was created as a concept at the same time Julius was, early February 2022, though Killian was released a month and a half after Julius was (Julius was released March 1, 2022).

Killian and Julius were quite literally created for each other, as counterparts.

Killian is a very realistic and accurate representation of actual serial killers.

The three most prominent sources of inspiration for Killian were Negan (the walking dead comics), Ted Bundy, and A Serbian Film.

Killian's "signature murder style" was inspired directly by the decapitation scene in A Serbian Film

Killian's cane, 'Bethany,' is a nod to Negan's baseball bat, 'Lucille.'

Killian is very complex, like real people are. He's absolutely an irredeemable villain but there's an explanation - though no excuse.

Killian always has been intended for an 18+ audience, due to both the sexual nature of the character, explicit extreme horror, and inherent maturity needed to understand him correctly.

Killian was created as a commentary on the fact attractive, white, rich, cis, het(passing) men can get away with unspeakable atrocities and are never held accountable.

THEME SONG:

Gangster's Paradise - State of Mine

My Favorite Official Character Art:

More About Killian Lynch: check out my blog!

Bonus! A few of the first concept sketches:

#creepypasta #killian lynch creepypasta #the dressmaker from hell #hellbound creepypasta #julius the dressmaker #eyeless jack #jeff the killer #homicidal liu #liu woods #creepypasta x reader #ben drowned #slenderman #laughing jack #marble hornets #jason the toymaker #candy pop #creepypasta x creepypasta #my art #creepypasta headcanon

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violettelueur · 5 years ago

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RYŌMEN SUKUNA || LITTLE CAGED ARTIST

| featuring : ryomen sukuna ft. itadori yuji

| warnings : mention of emotional abuse and murder as well as grammar errors

| form : imagine

| word count : 1691

| published : 22 december

| request : Hello, idk if your request are open but feel free to ignore, but just, imagine another reencarnation au (those imaginw of yours are my favourite) where the reader was a painter and Sukuna's personal favourite so he took her and kinda abused her psycologicaly to the point where she would just draw him and only him and he loved that, and in the future she's still an artist that draws Yuuji bc theyre friends but when she sees the tatoos she again draws Sukuna and he feels guilty for the way he treated her and her art in the pastIf It's angst i would apreciate but it's not really necesary

| barista’s notes : hi there~ i apologies for the extremely long wait for your coffee order but now it is there ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ right now it is nearly 5am in the morning and i have no idea why the hell i am awake, but oh well ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ DONT WORRY THOUGH! after this, i am going to sleep and rest up since today it is Fushiguro Megumi’s and Kageyama Tobio’s birthday today ʕ≧ᴥ≦ʔ but other than that, i hope you enjoy your order of a cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and i hope you come back soon! ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆

“Sukuna….please leave me alone...leave the village alone, I beg of you please,” you whimpered to the man that was standing tall and proud with a sadistic smirk painted on his face, while you were on your knees tightly holding onto his large wrist - somewhat slightly covering the black ring marking - as if your weak physical strength could do anything to stop his raising them up and giving a rain upon hell to the people that was residing in the small town you lived in.

You have no idea how you had managed to catch the attention of the most feared curse to both humans and jujutsu sorcerers nor did you know how you managed to become acquainted with the man in front of you. All you knew right now was that the situation you were in at this current moment and time, was not ideal to anyone at all.

You were just a simple artist. A simple village girl artist that was blessed to be hired by the nobility and aristocracy to paint their family portraits with the finest colours that they would offer you, for you to be then paid so you could provide for your village. However, as luxurious as it sounded, you were in love with the idea of just placing a sharped piece of charcoal on a piece of paper or cloth you could find anywhere and sketch your heart designed.

“Leave you alone?” Sukuna questioned you in his deep voice, before slowly crouching down to become face to face with you. “I could never leave you alone, not when you have caught my attention with your craft little one,” Sukuna then stated, as he gently placed a hand on your cheek before using his thumb to caress the soft skin he was touching.

Ever since Sukuna had caught sight of you delicately painting a portrait of a noblewoman with such care and gentleness, he couldn’t help but wonder how your hands were so carefully and how patient you were to make sure every stroke was perfect to your desire. Slowly, he began to wonder what it was like to be the subject of one's view. A subject that someone desired to recreate on a simple piece of paper. However, compared to his past sightings, you were the most talented as well as the most beautiful he had ever seen and once he was able to gain a clear view of the noble woman that you were illustration, he was surprised at how much detail you were able to encapture in your work and just like the noble woman’s reaction, they both were extremely happy with the result of the final product.

“How about this?” Sukuna suddenly asked, causing your head to suddenly shot up leading you to meet eye to eye with the King of Curses, “if you come with me and draw me and me only for the rest of time, I would leave this little village alone as well as the people residing in it. How does that sound, little one?”

‘Come with him? Where? Why? What’s going to happen to me?’

“If you don’t accept this deal, every single person here will die. Burned, stabbed, slashed, any way possible I can. Men, women and even little children’s lives will be gone, and it would be all your fault.”

‘My….fault? But-’

“You know I’m not a patient person little one, I might as well start my massacre while you take your time to think, it will be-”

“NO PLEASE! DON’T, YOU CAN TAKE ME, JUST LEAVE THE VILLAGE ALONE, PLEASE!” you screamed in desperation, as you tighten the grip of his wrist that was within your grasp to keep him down, as you didn’t want to risk him getting away from your sights for the safety and protection of the people within the little town you had lived in since the day your life had started.

With a large cruel grin, Sukuna had somehow managed to pry his wrists free from your tense grip before sliding an arm under your knees as well as an arm around your body lifting you up in a bridal position, while you were just expressing a face of shock and fear, confused and fearful on what you had just accepted in exchange for your life. Where were you going? Was this the end? Were you going to die? How much longer have you had left?

“Don’t worry, I won’t kill you, you’re too precious to be slaughtered little one,” Sukuna answered - as if he knew what you were thinking - before placing a ghostly kiss upon your temple leading you to freeze still, petrified on what he would do with you had moved a single inch.

This was your life now.

A caged artist.

ꕥ

Here you were, sitting on a wooden platform outside with a sharpened piece of charcoal that Sukuna had kindly given you, in order for you to sketch a portrait of him. The second you placed the charcoal upon the paper, Sukuna couldn’t help but stare at the light movements of your hand as you lightly stroke a few lines to create an outline before watching your hand suddenly pause, causing the King of Curses to switch his view from the sheet to you, only to find your look at him with such a frightened look.

“I’m sorry…..I shouldn’t look at you, should I? I apologise deeply,” you softly muttered before quickly turning back to the portrait that was right in front of you - you didn’t want to do anything wrong in his eyes, you knew he could go back on his words and harm the people that you cared about. However, it seemed like Sukuna didn’t care at all, he had managed to trap you into his life and had the power to demand you to draw him every time he would mention he could go back to your little village and burn it to the ground. He relished in the idea of being the subject of your attention.

This is what he wanted.

His little caged artist.

ꕥ

1000 years later and here you were.

Here you were sketching a picture of your best-friend Itadori with a picture of him that you had managed to capture on your phone. Itadori first came into your life shortly after you had enrolled into Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Techincal College around the same time as your other classmate Kugisaki did.

You have no idea what drew you into the boy with the pink hair, but something within you pulled you towards him causing the blooming and somewhat hilarious friendship to start, even causing Fushiguro and Kugisaki to wonder what was going on in your mind to somehow relate to the boy - yet, they didn’t mention their questions since they didn’t really think you knew the answer yourself, and they were correct.

However, as you continued to smoothly glide your pencil across the page, applying different pressures to construct some definitions as well as shadows within the photo you were copying from, you began to suddenly realise that you were starting to draw marking upon his portrait. Markings that were so familiar to the ones the person within him had.

Ever since that day at the Eishu Detention Centre, the sight of Sukuna standing in front of you with his shirt ripped off showcasing his black marking caused a trigger of unknown memories to suddenly flood into your mind, causing excruciating pain that was so unbearable, you thought you were going to pass out from the intense pressure, maybe as even close to dying from the immense pain.

From what you could even recall from the sudden flood of blurry images that appeared in your mind, there was a picture of you drawing with a piece of charcoal with the infamous King of Curses seating right beside you, watching you draw will whispering in your ear the threats that he would bombard you in order for you to make sure that you were only drawing him and him only.

Slowly but in a shaking manner, your drawing hand continued to sketch in Sukuna’s markings that would appear on Itadori’s body as you were somewhat extremely afraid of what the King of Curses could do to you if you didn’t - just how you left 1000 years ago.

Although unknown to you, your best-friend Itadori was standing right behind you, having a clear view of what was happening to you as well as the drawing right in front of him. Seeing your shaking figure with slow but clear teardrops landing on the sketch book as well as the drawing evolving from him to the curse residing inside of him, made him realise how damaging Sukuna was to not only him but also to the people around him. Carefully, Itadori placed a hand over your hand that held the pencil, causing you to flinch before finally noticing that it was your friend that was holding it and not the special grade curse.

Within his Innate Domain, Sukuna also had a clear view on what was happening to you and slowly but strangely began to feel something drop to his stomach with the feeling of his throat closing up at the sight of you slowly breaking down into a small state of insanity. This isn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want his beautiful little one to become lifeless and paranoid like you were now.

Even after 1000 years after your death, your incarnation was carrying the feeling of fear, despair and numbness that you were weighed upon the second you had given your life away to the King of Curses for the sake of your village. Even though you had more freedom then you did then, you still left trapped and lost within the metal cage that Sukuna had enclosed you in. Even with the small hint of guilt that was manifested within the cruel curse’s heart.

You were trapped with no escape out.

You were trapped forever with no key to open the door that was clearly right in front of you.

Forever his little caged artist.

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starkeristheendgame · 4 years ago

Text

Inspired by 9-1-1 (on Fox), which is my current obsession. I highly recommend checking it out and it’s spin-off series 9-1-1: Lonestar. If you already like 9-1-1 and Buddie (Buck and Eddie) then you should check out my new main account @therogueheart. Liberty has been taken with protocols and practices here, but the land of fiction knows no rules.

Firefighter!Tony x Civilian!Peter.

TW: Age difference | Under-negotiated sexual content | Unrealistic practises

“NYFD! We’re evacuating the block!”

“NYFD, are any residents present?”

Peter jerked awake to loud yelling and incessant pounding on his door, flailing blearily in bed for a moment before he fell off the side of in a heap of limbs and bedding, scrambling to get upright.

He shrugged on a hoodie and tripped into a pair of combat boots, stumbling his way sleepily to the door. He was operating on barely five hours of sleep and felt every hour he was sorely missing - though his midterms were a good enough reason to burn the midnight oil.

He wrenched the door open just as a firefighter on the other side went to swing the breach ram into it, letting out a squeak of panic as it stopped mere inches from his belly. The man wielding it was huge; with short blond hair and shoulders that could fit a person comfortably on either side.

“That was close, I could’ve ruptured your entire torsal cavity and killed you!” the firefighter boomed cheerfully, straightening up with a broad, dazzling smile. Peter let out a faint noise and did his best not to pass out, sagging against the doorframe and gripping it.

He was wide fucking awake now, that was for sure.

“My name is Thor, I’m with the NYPD, Manhattan division. We’re evacuating the block, there’s been a gas leak on the lower and mid levels and there’s risk of combustion,” the man ordered, slinging the ram over his shoulder and gesturing to the hallway. Peter could hear other voices, all similar conversations amidst the yells of NYPD, open up!

“Uh,” was all Peter got out before he was being ushered out of his doorway. Firefighter Thor nudged him several steps forwards before Peter’s brain finally came online and he jerked to a stop.

“Wait! I need my Adderall and my phone! If I don’t call Aunt May she’s gonna kill me and if I don’t take my meds I’m gonna be screwed!”

Thor looked undecided, brows pinching. “You shouldn’t-”

“It’s okay, Thor. Move onto the North quadrant; I’ll stay with this one,” came a voice from behind them and Peter turned, shrinking in on himself a little.

Illuminated in the crappy hallway lighting was a man who looked like he’d stepped straight off a movie billboard. He wasn’t as tall or the same brand of clean-cut Hollywood handsome that Thor was, but he was just as attractive. More so, if Peter was going to acknowledge his tendency to lust after men twice or even thrice his age.

The man had black hair swept into a neat side-leaning quiff, a hint of salt and pepper at his temples. His facial hair had been styled in a way that ought to look ridiculous but only served to give him a unique, sharp look, accentuating the shape of his jaw.

The man winked at him and Peter realised he’d been staring. When he glanced to the side Thor had already moved off out of sight and the firefighter left behind gestured to Peter’s door, which was thankfully still open ajar from where he’d been rushed out.

“Uh, thanks. Thank you...Sir? Officer?” he cringed at his own awkwardness, shuffling past. The man looked amused, quirking a brow and pursing his lips a little, even as something indescribable flashed in his eyes.

“Sir works just fine, if that’s your thing. But for the record - I’m Captain Stark. Pretty boys get to call me Tony, though,” the man winked again, teasing seeping into his voice as Peter flushed and beelined for his bed, grabbing his phone from it’s charger and scooping up his bill box and keys.

He lamented not being able to grab anything else, but he knew better than to put himself (and someone else) at risk by lingering. Tony ushered him out of the door with a hand on the small of his back, guiding him towards the stairwell. Peter could hear noises and voices on the lower levels but realised with surprise that they were the only two left on the topmost floor.

“You were dead to the world, kid. Thor was banging on your door like crazy. We almost gave you up for not in,” Tony voiced, seemingly understanding his realisation. Peter flushed again and mumbled something about studying, hurrying down the stairs as quickly as he could, Tony a close and solid presence at his back.

It wasn’t until the cool, outside air hit his legs that he realised he was still only wearing a thin hoodie and the shorts he’d gone to sleep in. He shivered in dismay, wrapping his arms around himself. He wasn’t the only one who’d clearly been dragged out of bed - there were people milling around in robes and pyjama sets.

One poor man was even shivering in a ratty blanket, suds dripping from his hair and into his eyes.

“What happened?” he asked, doing his best to stop his teeth from chattering.

“Residents on the lower levels reported strong smells of sulphur and gas. We think it’s a line rupture or faulty heater somewhere. Full evac is protocol until we know for sure and can get started on a fix,” the fire Captain answered, steering him a little away from the main crowd and to one of the trucks.

“Take a seat, kid,” Tony offered, gesturing to the step-up of the truck. Peter did, flinching as his bare skin met the icy metal. The man left him there, turning away to resume his role as he barked orders and disappeared off into the fray. Peter busied himself with his phone, only looking up when Tony’s voice boomed out over the crowd sometime later.

“Alright, everybody listen up!” the man yelled, clapping his hands. “We’ve located the source of the gas and the good news is that it’s a relatively easy fix. The bad news is that it’ll take a minimum of four hours. In the name of safety, none of you can return to the building until it’s deemed safe to do so. Your landlord and building technicians will get in contact as soon as they’ve been given the okay for you to return home. In the meantime, I suggest you go visit friends, family, or find a nice coffee shop while you wait!”

An immediate chorus of groans, complaints and angry remarks bubbled up, the firefighters all doing their best to marshal the situation and contain the displeasure. Peter shuffled where he sat, chewing his lower lip in frustration.

Aunt May was half a city away and on shift; Ned was visiting his Grandma and MJ’s girlfriend had stayed the night, meaning if Peter valued his eyes he couldn’t show up at her door.

Which meant he was probably going to spend the next four hours shivering at a Starbucks and studying on his phone.

Great.

“You good, kid?” the voice was joined by a pair of turnout clad legs and Peter looked up, tossing his phone between his hands. Out in the natural light Captain Stark was even more handsome, a strange mix between rugged and polished.

“Um, yeah. Just...Trying to decide which coffee shop I’m gonna move into,” he sighed, offering a weak smile. The Captain looked thoughtful.

“Little thing like you, Mom and Dad weren’t just out getting milk?” his tone was teasing but curious. Peter shook his head.

“Uh, no. I don’t...I did live with my Aunt. But I graduated highschool early and got a scholarship for the Manhattan Institute of Advanced Sciences. That shitty little studio is all mine,” he rattled the keys in his pocket and shifted. His butt had warmed the step some, but it still wasn’t exactly comfortable.

As if sensing his discomfort the man shifted, peeling himself out of the huge, heavy turnout jacket. “Here, sit up a little,” the man coaxed, crouching down. Peter found himself enveloped in the jacket as Captain Stark wrapped it around him and tucked it under his ass and thighs, pulling it shut so it cocooned him in the heat.

It smelt of soap and aftershave and maybe a little bit of sweat, and Peter found himself relaxing immediately, giving a hum of pleased satisfaction.

Tony was smiling at him when he opened his eyes again and he flushed, saved from embarrassment by a tall, lithe man approaching.

“Cap, we got ‘em all squared. Company is on the way for the fix. The one-five-nine offered to stay and play babysitter. We’re clear to move out.” The man had a purple band-aid on his right brow and did a double-take when he looked down at Peter. “We get a new recruit, Cap?”

Captain Stark looked thoughtfully between Peter and the man, fingers curling around his waistband.

“Alright. Barton, round up the others, call to move out. Have the one-five-nine use radio line six if they need us. We’re bringing back a station puppy.”

‘Barton’ glanced at Peter again, eyes raking over him before he did something between a smile and a smirk. “Copy that,” he confirmed, spinning on his heel and jogging off.

“Huh?” was all Peter could think to say.

“You’ve got nowhere better to go and you’ll freeze without getting changed. I’ve got some spare clothes at the station and you can hole up on the couch until we get the go-ahead to send you home. Rogers can cook, so let’s see if we can’t put a good breakfast in that belly,” Tony responded, nudging him up and out of the way so he could open the truck door.

And that was how Peter found himself wedged into the truck with Clint Barton, Thor Odinson and Steve Rogers. They crammed a spare headset on him and grilled him on student life as they drove, Captain Stark chiming in from the front of the truck.

The station they pulled into was huge, newly renovated and vast. Firefighter Thor set two hands on his hips, lifting him out of the truck easily and setting him down on the floor, ruffling his hair before dogpiling onto Steve, both of them stumbling and grappling away, arguing in snippets about door breaches.

A little dazed, he startled when a hand fell to his back again and turned, flushing when Captain Stark smirked at him and nudged him towards the locker room. The others were already there, stripping out of their turnouts and talking animatedly.

Peter was divested of the jacket but was given a thicker, warmer hoodie emblazoned with ‘NYPD’ and ‘Stark’, the older man rooting around in a locker for a moment before producing a pair of sweats.

They were baggy but he double-tied them and rolled up the ankles and found them more than comfortable, shyly thanking the man. Tony was watching him, eyes dark again with that hidden thought, before he seemingly shook himself out of it and herded Peter towards a set of steps.

Upstairs was a kitchen space and a small common area with two couches and a TV. Barton immediately handed him a steaming mug of herbal tea and Captain Stark ushered him to the table and after several minutes of sitting in their midst and listening to firefighting stories, Steve placed a plate of toast, beans, bacon and eggs under his nose.

“Eat it before Barton mauls you for it,” Steve advised with a grin, sinking into the seat opposite him and stretching out, one arm slung around the back of Thor’s chair. Peter took the warning and dug in, shamelessly moaning at the taste. The eggs had been seasoned and there was something in the butter on the toast that made it rich and almost a little salty.

“Better than sex, huh kid?” Tony teased from his side and Clint gasped, throwing his hands over Peter’s ears.

“He doesn’t know what that is yet!”

After breakfast he was bundled onto the couch, handed a mug of tea to keep his hands warm and the remote to the TV as the others stomped down the staircase, citing organising their gear.

The alarm blared out as he was watching a nature documentary and he leaned over the balcony rail just in time to watch them leaping into the truck, flushing as the Captain shot him a wink before shutting the truck door, it’s sirens wailing and lights flashing as it pulled out of the bay.

They weren’t gone that long, but when the truck pulled back into the bay it was covered in dust and dirt.

He padded down the staircase, pulling on the sleeves of his hoodie as he watched them all descend from the vehicle. They looked a little dusty and grimy, but otherwise unharmed.

“Winch rescue up on the hiking trails,” Clint informed him as he jogged past, beelining for a room just past the lockers. “I’ve got dust in places it doesn't belong!”

The worst of them all was Steve, who’d apparently tripped over the winch line and gone tumbling down the hillside. He was largely unhurt, but he was also the last one out of the showers thanks to needing some extra scrubbing.

“C’mon, kid. Time to earn your keep,” Tony teased once they were clean and dressed in LAFD shorts and shirts. They were filling buckets and bringing out plastic boxes full of soaps and polish, and he almost whimpered when he realised they were going to clean the truck.

He was practically living a piece of fanfiction.

Or torture. Either one was applicable.

It took exactly ten minutes for someone to lose their shirt. Peter didn’t know if it was fortunate or unfortunate that it was Steve, who flexed his pecs with a wink when he caught Peter staring. As if not to be outdone, Thor immediately tugged his shirt over his head, baring an even bigger, beefier torso that fed the red flames burning up Peter’s cheeks.

“Alright, show offs. Stop preening and get cleaning,” Tony barked at them good-naturedly, rolling his eyes as he handed Peter a sponge and flicked suds at the two taller blonds, who pulled faces but dove into the work with vigor.

In an attempt to cool down his embarrassment he turned his attention to the truck, scrubbing gently in broad circles to match what the others were doing. He’d never realised just how big firetrucks were and he wondered idly how often they had to do this.

“Hey, shortstack, you wanna be on top?”

“Excuse me?” Peter squeaked, rounding on Captain Stark, who smirked at him and gestured to the roof of the truck and the little side ladder.

“On the roof. Tends to get gritty up there,” the man drawled, eyeing him in thinly veiled amusement. It had to be on purpose, Peter realised. Especially when he moved to the side ladder and a set of rough hands wrapped around his hips, boosting him up several rungs.

He settled down to scrub, listening to the soundtrack of the station and the men below, peering over the edge now and then to watch them or to join in the conversation. It was dizzying - having them all grinning up at him, sunny and sparkling and half-naked.

Mercifully, there wasn’t too much more teasing as they scrubbed and buffed and wiped. He wasn’t sure his cheeks could take getting any hotter - but then, where safer to combust but in the middle of a firehouse?

Captain Stark helped him down from the roof again with the same hold around his hips, thumbs rubbing brief circles along the ridges of the bones before the man stepped aside with a quirked smile.

“Hungry, kid?”

“If I don’t get fed soon I might start chewing off my own foot,” he harrumphed with a grin, ducking his head when Clint barked a laugh and ruffled his hair.

“Kid after my own stomach,” the man drawled, taking the steps three at a time in a way that Peter and his short legs watched enviously.

Lunch was buffet bits like potato chips and little sponge-cake fingers and fruit, which Peter didn’t mind at all. He threw grapes into Clint’s mouth and arm-wrestled Steve and deliberately paid no attention at all to where Captain Stark’s leg pressed against his own under the table.

In the grand five hour total that he was there they got called out twice more, once for a tree rescue (a man who’d tried to save money by cutting his own yard tree, not a cat, much to Peter’s disappointment) and a small kitchen fire that left them bitching for a full hour afterwards about how people needed to stop trying to be Gordon Ramsey when they could barely cook packet ramen.

And then, just when the others were beginning to get shift about nearing their time to come off rotation, Peter’s phone rang.

It was his landlord, sounding gruff and disinterested as he informed Peter the apartment had been deemed safe to re-enter, although all aparts were going to be required to keep their gas appliances off for the night and their windows open.

The others had stopped milling around in the locker room and listened in with thinly concealed interest, offering nods and smiles when it was revealed Peter was safe to hit home.

“Just on time, huh?” Steve beamed at him, ruffling his hair.

“Aw, man. Do we have to give him back?” Clint whined in protest, swooping down to wrap himself around Peter like a clingy mink shrug. Peter giggled, tucking himself into the hold and putting on a pretend pout.

Truthfully; he didn’t want to leave. At first he’d been apprehensive about being stuck in a building with a bunch of strange men, but over the course of the day he’d come to cherish their family dynamic and the easy, comfortable companionship.

“You knew he was on loan, you layabouts,” Tony chastised them fondly, rolling his eyes. When his crew had been bullied into resuming their prep to leave, Captain Stark sank onto the bench next to Peter.

“You want a ride back, kid? I live past that area anyway and it’s my fault you’re so far out from home,” he noted with a warm smile, tugging on a boot and stooping to lace it.

Peter bit at his lower lip. Technically; he should say no. He didn’t actually know this man, and being a firefighter meant nothing for how trustworthy he was.

But…

“You don’t mind?” he asked lightly.

“It would be Captain’s honor,” Thor assured him with a wink. And that was that, the others finished dressed and they moved out to the parking lot as a herd, Peter trailing awkwardly along behind Tony towards a sleek, red and gold Audi.

He was hugged and ruffled and treated to a sizable farewell from the others, each of them pointedly telling him not to be a stranger as they piled into their vehicles and drove off in a cloud of muted music and squealing tyres.

When he turned around Tony had slipped over to the car and stood with the passenger door open, stooped into a half bow.

The interior was crisp and clean and smelt like fresh linen when he sank into the seat, tucking his legs in carefully. Tony slid into the driver’s side like he lived to be behind the wheel of a flashy car, slipping on a dark pair of shades and letting his window slide down.

Tony switched radio on to a smooth rock station and Peter let himself relax in the seat, phone still clutched carefully in hand just in case, but thoroughly enjoying the rumble of the car and the way Tony looked behind the wheel.

They didn’t speak much on the way but Peter snuck several glances at the other man, shivering through a bolt of unsteady heat each time Tony caught the motion and tipped his head, smirking at him from behind those shaded lenses.

The apartment building loomed up on them far too soon, signalling the end of a day Peter was confident he’d keep in his memories right up until his last breath.

(And if it tempted him to maybe one day set fire to his kitchen a little bit, well.)

Tony pulled the car to a stop in the parking lot, leaning casually back in his seat.

“Maybe you should, um, check my apartment?”

It took Peter a moment to realise he was the one who’d spoken, mortified as Tony pushed down his shades to peer at him over the rims with an arched brow.

“To, uh, um…” Peter squirmed on his seat, doing his best not to think about how it was the other man’s clothes he was wearing. “Make sure it’s safe. I mean, I’ve built up a little trust. With you. Who knows if the other guys missed something?”

And what he wouldn’t give for a sinkhole to just swallow him up right then.

But to his surprise Captain Stark just peered at him for another moment, then smiled. “Sure thing, kid. The other’s’d never forgive me anyway if I let you die off in the night.”

With cheeks hot enough to sear a steak, Peter slipped out of the car and practically ran for the building, hyper aware of Tony’s presence beside him as they ascended the steps. God, he was so fucking stupid. Tony was probably going to poke around the apartment a little, open the window then skip on back home and tell his wife all about the strange kid he’d had to babysit all day.

His hands were shaking as he unlocked his door but if the man noticed he said nothing, stepping in behind him and pushing the door gently shut. Peter toed off his boots by the door and turned, watching the man roam the apartment, sniffing here and there and opening the window in the kitchenette.

“Hey, come here,” Tony’s voice called when he was plugging his phone in. Jamming the cord into the device, he bounced out of the room and slid to a halt next to Tony, who held a hand out to steady him. “Do you feel that?”

“What?” Peter asked in confusion, head tilting.

“Sexual tension,” Tony grinned at him, winking terribly.

“Wha-- Oh,” Peter rocked back on his heels, cheeks blazing.

“You’re not subtle, kid. I got ribbed the whole day out over it,” Tony teased him, reaching out to ever so gently tuck one of Peter’s mahogany curls behind his ear.

“Sorry?” Peter tried, fingers curling around the cuffs of his - Tony’s - hoodie.

“I know a way you can make it up to me,” the only man purred, leaning in a little closer. And then all at once he softened, head tilting a little. “Only, of course, if you want to.”

“Aren’t you… Married?�� Peter asked hesitantly, even as his heart kicked up a notch and heat gave a lazy spark between his lips. Tony’s brows shot towards his hairline.

“Not since I last checked, no,” Tony answered, sounding terribly amused. “Where did you get that thought?”

And oh, no. The last thing Peter was going to do was tell Tony he thought the man was so attractive it was feasibly impossible for him to not be taken. His ego would get so big he’d float off to space and then where would Peter be?

Instead of answering he shifted, bracing his hands on Tony’s chest and rising onto his tiptoes so he could press a chaste kiss to Tony’s mouth, the man’s stubble tickling the corner of his mouth before he pulled away, shrinking in on himself and rubbing at his lower lip.

Tony blinked down at him for a moment. Then he shifted, leaning down to wrap his hands around Peter’s thigh and hip, lifting him up with a flex of work-honed muscles. Peter clutched at his shoulders, legs automatically wrapping around Tony’s waist.

It was a new kind of novelty; to feel thick, corded muscle beneath his palms, to feel the cut of it between his thighs, to feel the scrape of stubble over his jaw and his mouth. All of Peter’s other partners had been close to his own age and relatively close in terms of build and body.

A few strides had Peter’s back pressed against the wall where he let his head fall back with a thump, mouth falling open on a whine.

“Look at you having your five minutes of bravery,” Tony teased him, shifting one leg so his thigh helped to hold Peter’s weight, fingers flexing against his skin. “What happened to the quiet little kid who burnt up anytime he looked my way?”

Peter had nothing to say, shivering through a hiccupped sound when something thick and hard rode the crease of his thigh and hip, hot between the layers of fabric that separated them. Instead of answering he pawed at the man’s shirt, desperately wanting to see the carved flesh beneath it.

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you want,” Tony soothed him, adjusting them both before he helped to tug on the fabric, muscles shifting and bunching as he worked it over his head and threw it off somewhere to the side.

“Oh,” Peter choked, setting his palms down on the plane of Tony’s stomach. He was beautiful; tanned skin marred with a smattering of scars that stood out pink and pale. He knew better than to focus on them but he couldn’t help running his thumb over a half-moon scar at the bottom of Tony’s pectoral.

“Emergency field incision,” Tony murmured, nipple peaking at the close touch. “Had to mesh-wall my heart.”

Peter had no words for that, either. In all the fun of the firehouse he’d almost forgotten the reality of such a dangerous job. He ran his thumb gently over it again, as if to kiss it, and tightened his legs to bring Tony into him again.

It made them press together in a delicious, warm friction, Tony’s pupils dilating further when Peter tried to stifle the noise the touch prompted. He was squeezed back into the wall as Tony leaned down, catching his mouth in a slick, gentle kiss.

“Hey, kid,” Tony murmured against his mouth, leaning back just enough to speak, teeth scraping over his swollen lower lip.

“Hm?” Peter whimpered, trying to tilt his head to reach him again.

“You wanna see why they call me Captain Firehose?”

Peter’s lashes fluttered as he looked up, mouth dropping open for a moment of pure, unadulterated suspense.

“That was awful,” he groaned with a giggle, tickled by the cheesy line and rendered pink-cheeked by the soft, fond look at Tony fixed him with.

“Made you smile, though,” Tony purred, adjusting his hold as he ducked down to press a kiss to Peter’s cheek, lips trailing over the warm skin before he pulled back and away, muscles flexing as he held Peter up without the support of the wall.

Blushing harder, Peter wound his arms around the man’s neck. “Okay, Captain. Show me how to handle your hose,” he whispered, yelping and laughing when Tony spun them around towards the bedroom with a grin.

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ruki--mukami · 3 years ago

Note

🍇 - Have you even encountered any partners that threw a tantrum at you?

🌽 - Is there a fandom you’re too intimidated to join?

🌶 - Do you find your muse attractive?

(( I apologize, I’m not going to even try copy/pasting those emojis on mobile. For some reason, Tumblr makes my tab go completely white when that happens and then I lose all my progress, so I will number them instead.

Not tantrums per se, but I’ve definitely had people who made me feel uncomfortable. Currently everyone I interact with is absolutely amazing though. Thank you for being patient with me.

It’s not that I feel intimidated. It’s just that I don’t have time to join other fandoms right now. I’m too deep into Rukihell as is.

Sit down, this is going to be a long one. Long story short: Yes, I do find Ruki attractive. The most attractive of all!! Dark-haired, light-eyed men are my weakness. Not even just his looks. His devotion, his loyalty, the way he cares for you despite everything, his 200 IQ big brain, I love it all. The way he carries himself has me utterly entranced. There is a subtle boldness and pride to his actions, yet he is not insufferably arrogant either. I love that. It’s something I hope I capture well in my writing. ))

#the admin speaks #munday meme

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stxleslyds · 4 years ago

Note

Jason doesn't show up in DC's animated series (though the does "spiritually" show up as Tim Drake in Season 2 of Batman the Animated Series).

Jason has a strong presence in the video games, though. So what is your opinion on Jason's characterization for Arkham Knight? He is a DLC for the Injustice games as well. Judy be warned that I did watch some clips of Arkham Knight and the torture was too gruesome for me.

RED HOOD IN VIDEO GAMES.

Hey there friend, thank you for the ask!

INJUSTICE 2.

I had to do some research on Red Hood’s appearances in the Injustice games because I was never really in touch with that story. Here is what I knew about it, there are two games for PC, one of them is Injustice and the other is Injustice 2, the games also have the comic books that give context/background to the lore of the game.

I used to play Injustice: Gods Among Us on mobile phone, and I had Jason as a playable character there, I also found out way too late that “Nightwing�� wasn’t really Dick Grayson, it was Damian because he took on the mantle after he and the rock killed Dick in the comic (forever mad at that ridiculous death and the kinda scary art that comic had).

I looked for information about Red Hood’s backstory in wikis and all that because I refuse to read an alternate universe book written by Tom Taylor, there are things that I am just not willing to do.

All in all, I think that this Jason was in surface level, the same as his canon comic counterpart up until the time of his resurrection. Given that the world was at war and the League of Assassins wasn’t working openly, he and the others had to live in the shadows, he seems to have been trained proficiently by both Batman and the LoA so he is a very hardcore opponent. There are some bits of his story with Damian and a place called Gorilla City that I do not understand because I haven’t read the comics but I am fine without it.

The thing is that this Jason is pretty cool, he sticks to his morals and fights for what he believes is right, he doesn’t look like the kinda guy that takes sides in this war which is probably the best idea. Both Batman and Superman seem to be on the wrong side of history with they ideals.

What I did see and I loved eternally was the ending to Red Hood’s story, I will link the video here! But I will also copy and paste all that he says there because I think it’s really important and where I was able to see more of his characterization.

"That. Felt. Good. Titanium composite hollow point bullets with a C4 kicker. Fastest, most explosive ammo in the world. I made them myself. With the invasion over, Bruce and Superman started fighting again. I wasn't down with either of them. On the one hand, the Regime's right. Scumbag murderers and rapists deserve to die. But on the other hand, I'm no fan of government authority. Especially the dictatorial variety.

So, while the world's finest fight each other, I fight for the people. The weak. The innocent. Anyone who can't protect themselves. When they cry out for a saviour, I'll answer. As for the criminals that threaten them? They need to know that their actions have consequences. That the Red Hood is coming for them.”

This is excellent, I absolutely love this, this Jason knows his morals and doesn’t bow down to anyone and in the end, he is truly a hero to the people that need heroes the most.

Him saying that he believes that some criminals have to die but that he can’t really join Superman’s side because he cannot associate with it because he isn’t a fan of dictatorial ideas, I love this man.

I feel like this is a fair characterization for Jason, I believe that if something along the lines of what happens in Injustice happens in current continuity then Jason wouldn’t join any sides, he wouldn’t be neutral per se but he will fight for his own ideals. And his ideals in most universes are protecting people and I think that’s great. I love to see a world where Jason is seen as more intelligent and put together than the Batman.

Something that I find quite funny and interesting from this game is the dialogues that characters have with each other when they fight, I found this video compilation where you can see all the dialogues between Red Hood vs Robin (Damian Wayne), they are so fun and I love the animations too.

BATMAN: ARKHAM KNIGHT.

Oh, ArkhamVerse Jason, my beloved.

He is, to me, the epitome of this meme.

I have actually watched the whole game playthrough, several times, and Jason had a DLC as the Red Hood for that game (Nightwing has one too and I will talk about it later because I love this version of him). And, yes, the torture scene is very gruesome, it was incredibly sad and it made me feel bad. But I also think that they made it that way so it could support the kind of storytelling they were going for.

The reality is that this Jason suffered his whole life, and was constantly introduced to lifestyles that he never wanted to be part of. The world around this Jason wasn’t kind at all to him and there is a long list of people who did him wrong.

Although ArkhamVerse Jason didn’t die, like his comic counterpart did, he suffered the most. And his suffering really drove him to be the best version of an unhinged Jason Todd. But it’s clear, his brutality and murder intent isn’t laced with his Red Hood persona or at least not on the same level as it is with his Arkham Knight persona.

This Jason’s characterization works to perfection, but it only works that way because he was well developed within the game lore and the comics. This Jason was extremely well trained, he is probably the smartest version of Jason, his mind and his level of preparedness are unparalleled when it comes to other Jason Todd variants (a little MCU Loki talk right there).

I would go as far as to say that this Jason would be an excellent match to peak Dick Grayson from before New 52 in comics. Those two would clash so immensely, but man, it would be one hell of an intellectual and physical fight. Two Kings doing what they do best.

Anyway, for now take my word for how well characterized Jason is in the ArkhamVerse, I will make a post were I deep dive more on his character both in game and comics. There is so much to say about him, he is truly interesting and very complex.

Now, I will be a little cheeky and I will use this ask as an opportunity to talk about my man, ArkhamVerse Nightwing aka Pretty Boy.

I love him so much! In the game when you get to meet him (I will link the video here! it’s five minutes long, and worth the watch) you get to see both Nightwing’s and Dick’s personalities. Nightwing is fun and relaxed, he is a little bit cocky and doesn’t let Batman be a pain in his ass, he is truly a beast. Although he is never seen without the mask in a moment when he is alone with Bruce you can really see Dick’s personality shine through. He obviously has had issues with Bruce in the past but there is also this palpable respect coming from both of them to the other. Bruce wants to protect Dick but he acts like a jerk instead of telling him what is on his mind. Dick wants to help Bruce at all costs, he refuses to leave Gotham until they solve something that he was already working on before Bruce needed his help.

There is also this sort of goodbye scene between the two (I will link it here!) that is extremely sad because Dick doesn’t believe Bruce when he tells him that he is proud of him. Dick cuts him off just when Bruce was trying to open up and I think that scene speaks volumes about how rough their relationship was. Dick never finds out that Bruce was “dying” after being infected with the Joker’s blood/gas, so it’s very bittersweet.

There is also the Nightwing DLC, where we get to see Dick being the best of the best, he is so skilled and funny and smart. It is amazing how much this game made me love their Nightwing even though he doesn’t appear much, his dynamic with Penguin is just perfect, Dick literally makes Penguin’s life very difficult. All of the people working with Penguin kinda fear Dick a little bit, some of them are even impressed by his skills.

Oh and, when Nightwing gets captured at some point in the game, Penguin’s men are saying something along the lines of “I was sure Batman will come in” “how come?” “what’s tied up downstairs and getting the crap beat out of it?” “Oh yeah, Nightwing” and that is so true, if I were Batman, I will also risk my life for Nightwing.

I just love Nightwing, he makes me so happy! He is the best here!

Anyway, enough of me loving Nightwing uncontrollably, I will make a separate post where I only talk about ArkhamVerse Jason so, yeah, be ready for that one because I love that Jason too, he is hot.

#jason todd #red hood #arkham knight #dick grayson #nightwing #arkham games #injustice 2 #arkhamverse #asksss

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painless-innit-colourful · 4 years ago

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‘The Revive Incantation’

During today’s Techno stream (June 21st), he referred to the contents of the revive book as an “incantation”. Well, my brain immediately thought of Dream singing the Healing song from Tangled to revive Tommy, and a few hours later I present this. The revive book requires a few things to work, and one of those things is a willingness to do a little backwards karaoke. (And yes, I rewrote the song from Tangled for this.)

Swirling around the words on the page were these beautiful gold pattern illustrations. They twisted and curled like the timid edges of a plant’s leaves, and each corner even featured a little golden flower. The muted ochre and emerald-green they had been painted with evoked the appearance of a totem, although there were no direct references to the other known method of cheating death. If there had been, it would’ve made the mystery behind the book’s origins - or indeed how Schlatt got his hands on it - a whole lot easier. But that hardly mattered now.

Dream ran his finger below the final line of the poem on the page for about the eightieth time, ensuring he’d fully committed it to memory again in case Sam were to unexpectedly arrive and he’d need to burn the book. He’d stopped visiting regularly since Tommy’s death, and he’d also ceased coming in the cell entirely. Still, one could never be too careful. His entire reason for still being alive was right there, a single stanza copied hastily from memory and hidden in the bottom of his chest weeks ago. The original revive book had been ornate and probably an antique: now it was ash, but as the process of revival required a physical reproduction of the text, here he was, double-checking he’d copied it down correctly one more time. God help him if he’d remembered it wrong.

Or rather, he thought, as he glanced over at the lifeless form of a teenager sat propped up against the wall a couple metres to his right, god help Tommy.

He wasn’t sure what he’d do if it didn’t work. As the text described, he had all the required components: the verses on parchment, the exanimate flesh and bones, the willing soul and a voice with which to… Sing? The poem. Incantation. Aloud. He wasn’t sure if those instructions were meant to be taken literally, and if so, what tune to follow. Unfortunately, much of the book’s compact contents were written in riddles and couplets and audaciously purple prose. The incantation itself was something of a curiosity: it was a spell to raise the dead, but it also appeared to carry a warning to those bold enough to speak it. A deterrent to those impermanent earthlings that trifled in the affairs of the deathless deities. But Dream hadn’t got this far by heeding warnings. And, whether he liked his current position or not (he didn’t), he and he alone held the ability to reverse a killing blow, so who’s really smiling.

With no conceivable reason to drag this out any longer, the prisoner got slowly to his feet and went to retrieve Tommy’s corpse. The boy’s eyelids were half-closed, and the eyes beneath were dull, devoid of the light and life the kid had once brought to everything. His skin was mottled in places, his bottom lip had bruised, he had a black eye and dried blood glueing it shut from where it had leaked from a gash in his forehead. Luckily, decomposition hadn’t started to set in yet, or Dream would’ve had to burn the body to avoid the smell. No, he was simply dead, and goodness, had it been a nice few days of quiet after a week of Tommy’s non-stop incessant talking and complaining and obnoxious humming. Sam had looked at him like he was crazy when he’d said he was enjoying the peace, but had he ever been stuck in a room with the kid for more than a few hours before? Maybe that’s how Tommy used to bend people to his will. Annoy them until they either backed down or declared major conflict.

Carefully, like one might handle a sleeping baby, he laid Tommy down in front of the book, and resumed his seat behind it, legs crossed. He turned the page so he could see the scribbled instructions again, scanned them one final time, then flipped the page back to the stanza he was supposed to sing. As if someone else had possessed him, within three words he knew instinctively and miraculously what melody to follow as he recited the verse:

‘Vessel torn apart Soul too weak to stay Gift another chance And wash lost days away Written on this page Mortals should not say Men must not play god And wash lost days away Lost days away’

As he sang, something incredible began to happen, so mesmerising for someone trapped with so little for so long that he almost stopped singing. The prompt on the page began to glow, golden light radiating off the page as the words took short-lived form in the air while he sang them. They danced and collapsed into each other, forming a sizable disk of light above them, before it began to slowly dissipate, filtering down into a stream that enveloped Tommy. His skin took on a new sheen; from beneath his eyelids, a soft yellow light emanated, and, during the time the light was fading, his fingers twitched, curling unconsciously like a newborn’s would as they slept.

It worked.

Without taking his eyes off Tommy slowly rejoining the land of the living, Dream fed the book to the lava stream endlessly running past and pooling below the cell. It melted quickly into the molten rock, stinging his fingers as it dissolved: Dream barely felt it, staring intently at the boy whose body once again contained a consciousness.

I did it. I brought someone back.

Tommy’s elbows found purchase on the obsidian floor and he sat himself up, hands then going to wipe his eyes. He winced in pain as he pressed the heel of his hand directly into his black eye, mumbling a few curse words under his breath in typical Tommy fashion. That seemed to bring him to his senses. He turned his head rapidly to compensate for being down fifty percent on sight, and his working eye made contact with Dream’s. His murderer practically watched as the reality of his situation came crashing around Tommy, and he physically recoiled, face contorted with shock.

I’m a god.

---

“Let me out! Or I’m gonna revive him.”

That is the power he holds now. The ultimate bargaining chip, and it works. Bless Schlatt for giving up this ace for something as trivial as allies. Tommy, Sam and Ghostbur are all screaming at each other at the top of their lungs, and for his purposes, it couldn’t be more perfect. He has gripped firmly in his left hand the crumpled paper he just quickly scrawled the stanza upon, and he’s reaching for Ghostbur with the other, because thanks to his protocols, it’ll only take a tap. They're all screaming and shouting and then the lava's coming down with a great groaning of pistons, and it’s plenty enough to cover for him to quickly and quietly sing the tune he’s memorized since last time. Sometimes he’d sing it when he sat alone in the endless hours without a clock or a visitor; a dirge to his dominance over the server, once and forever. Goodbye Ghostbur. So sorry. His eyes are dilated with fear when Dream pulls him sharply against the barrier, and he dies with a sickening crack. Tommy’s screams drown out the end of the song entirely.

They do say, however, that there’s a new busker on the train platform, and he’s got a rather interesting song to share.

#good god crim your tangled fan is showing #my it's been a while since i've listened to the healing incantation that many times in a row #anyway enjoy the fic. this is such a random idea i can't believe people actually wanted it #dream smp #dreamwastaken #tommyinnit #ghostbur #crim writes #dsmp fic #as always rbs/comments are valued so much :D

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izupie · 3 years ago

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Thanks for the tag @microsuedemouse !! <3

rules: tag some folks u wanna know better (copy and paste, don’t reblog).

last song: I am ADDICTED to Lend Me Your Voice from Belle. For as many... issues... as I had with the movie itself, that doesn't take away how much I love the soundtrack, and how much I adore this song especially. Really powerful lyrics and gorgeous vocals

last show: ohh man, I can't remember what I watched before I started on Supernatural. That thing is 15 seasons long. It might have been Little Witch Academia?

currently watching: I'm still on my rewatch of Supernatural after having binged it earlier this year - watching it at a slower pace is fun. I can't say it's even a good show, but I love how well it lends itself to headcanons and fanfiction filling the gaps to make the Good Supernatural that lives in our heads. It's just a fun time! Love all the spooky stuff and Sam, Dean and Cas are usually very solidly written.

currently reading: Alongside the absolutely ludicrous amount of fanfiction I've been consuming (thank you 15 years of spn fanfic writers) I've been reading the Lord of the Rings books! The writing style is painfully slow at times, and the character writing is actually quite weak - I couldn't tell you much about the main characters from what he's written! - But I only read it just before I go to bed so it's not like I need it to be particularly exciting or deep.

current obsession: as if it wasn't obvious that I'm going to say Supernatural ahahaha

listennn

I've always loved spooky stuff - stories about witches and vampires and ghosts and magic - and this is literally EXACTLY that. The main character roster being very small means there's some solid character writing here and there that I absolutely adore. Some of it is plain silly, and I love that too. And some of it is quite creepy (I'm easily scared by ghosts) in the earlier seasons and I'm all about that!

(I love ghost stories because I'm easily spooked by them yes I'm aware that doesn't make a lot of sense)

anyway - yeah this show is just hitting that sweet spot of it becoming an obsession for me: Good characters, pretty actor men, a ship I could talk about endlessly, spooks, an insane amount of fan content... yes pls

I'm not gonna tag anyone today, but if you see this and want to play - consider yourself tagged !!

#thanks so much for the tag! <3 #izu replies #tag games

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your--isgayrights · 4 years ago

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not sure if this is what you had in mind but i was thinking maybe kdj and hsy meeting briefly earlier in life (at 20/22 years old or sth)? maybe having a misunderstanding or an argument over something trivial (like interpretation of a book or who should take the last lemon flavored popsicle in the store) and somehow still managing to reach some recognition or understanding of each other. years later they would forget about each other but still remember that bizarre situation sometimes. i have no idea if that makes any sense but i believe in your writing and massive brain and powerful swag. xoxo

Aaaaah, Exe I'm sorry if this isn't exactly what you asked for... I was just like... what if that time Han Sooyoung and Kim Dokja almost met in the epilogue went a little differently and like... haha...

The first part is basically copied and pasted from that chapter before the twist, so go read that first if you haven't!

Han Su-Yeong staggered and walked closer to Kim Dok-Ja. Several passersby brushing past her looked back in suspicion.

Kim Dok-Ja was now walking down the subway’s steps.

Kim Dok-Ja, with earphones stuck in his ears and reading something on his phone while walking downstairs.

She knew what he was currently reading.

“—!!”

She barely managed to shout, but her voice still didn’t come out. So, she desperately chased after him.

Because of the story you wrote, author-nim, I was able to survive until now. Han Su-Yeong was also able to survive while reading the sole reader’s words.

She managed to write the next part of Yu Jung-Hyeok’s life through them.

She was able to endure her boring and stuffy teen years, the days she never wanted to go back to, thanks to those words.

This train is bound for… She spotted Kim Dok-Ja standing on the platform, waiting for the next train to arrive. A person hiding within the small world crafted out of letters to protect himself was standing right there.

Kim Dok-Ja, who didn’t know anything about the apocalypse about to happen.

Kim Dok-Ja, who’d get to live on the expansive world of the ‘Ways of Survival’.

Kim Dok-Ja, who’d get to meet the protagonist he so longed to become.

Kim Dok-Ja, who’d become the ‘Demon King of Salvation’.

Kim Dok-Ja, who’d sacrifice himself multiple times for the sake of his companions, and as a result, came to the 1863rd turn and met her.

Kim Dok-Ja, who was destined to become the ‘Most Ancient Dream’, the price he paid for loving a certain story too much.

[Your mental state is crumbling!]

[The main body’s ego is regaining its control.]

[Your Fable is being extinguished.]

Her legs grew heavy, and her arms didn’t want to move anymore. Her body was gradually becoming not hers.

Even then, Han Su-Yeong wanted to tell him.

⸢To tell him that he was definitely not at fault for this story being born. And to tell him that the things he was about to experience were not his sins.⸥

Because, her past 13 years existed solely to say those words to him.

⸢To say that, though you have grown up while reading this story, there’s no need for you to become it.⸥

She barely managed to muster up her strength, her arm coiling in on itself and preparing for her one last willful action.

[Your ego will convert into the ‘subconsciousness’.]

As she set her weak, pre-scenario body into that final decisive movement...

The twenty six year old Han Su-yeong who knew nothing of the soon to come apocalypse, woke up thrusting her fist forward into the face of some guy on the subway.

She would've thought she was still dreaming, if it hadn't been for the feeling of his soft cheek slamming against the hard bone of his teeth under the force of her balled up hand.

'What the hell? Why am I doing this?'

Han Su-yeong most likely would have asked herself these things if she had any more time to think before her punch had landed.

She got her answer, though. Despite never asking her question, that reason she was looking for became clear as the man staggered off his balance.

He made a futile attempt to right himself before being knocked to the ground. The phone that he had been holding so close to his face clattering screen-side up onto the concrete of the subway floor.

That was when she saw it.

She only had to read a snippet of the words on that phone screen to come up with an explanation for her own actions at that very moment.

[There are three ways to survive in a ruined world. Now, I have forgotten a few, but one thing is certain. The fact that you who are reading this now will survive.

-Three ways to survive in a ruined world

Author’s words: Thank you so much for reading ‘Ways of Survival’ up to here. I will come back to you with an epilogue!]

'Ways of Survival.' 'Three ways to survive in a ruined world.'

...

Yes, there was no doubt that this guy sat on the subway floor rubbing at his cheek deserved it.

Some latent evil of the world must be working to Han Su-yeong's advantage, because none of the commuter passing by spared her a second glance as she sorted out her own motives. They simply dodged around her and the man she had assaulted moments ago.

If Han Su-yeong had to write some train of thought into their actions, she might imagine these negligent bystanders saw something like an overly dramatic lover's spat. Something personal that they ought not get involved in.

Were it not for the pervasiveness of such a cliche recurrent in physical altercations between men and women, maybe they would see it for what it was. A question of honor between authors.

Because Han Su-yeong was certain that was who this man was. An author who was so shitty that he had created an alt to try and hype up his terrible novel.

That was right... It was years ago now, but Han Su-yeong remembered that unsubstantiated accusation of plagiarism on her first published webnovel, SSSSS-grade Infinite Regressor.

This shitty guy had made an alt account that was so obvious... it was something 'Dok-ja,' like he wasn't even trying to pretend he didn't make it just to pretend to 'read' his own webnovel...

If that didn't prove it, then it was also clear from the comments that he had left on every single chapter. When she was reading them, Han Su-yeong had known that if she were such a bad author that she would have to have just one reader, the words that he wrote represented that perfect amount of reader to author engagement that she would have desired.

But that sort of relationship... it was unrealistic. Han Su-yeong had been an author for something like 13 years now, and she had never had such a relationship in her entire career.

So it was obvious that a reader like that could only be written by an author with those same desires that she held.

And then he even had the nerve to wander out of his self contained fantasy, accusing her superior work of plagiarizing his shitty one just to draw in more views and commenters.

So of course he had a lot of nerve to be rereading his own damn author's note right where she could see hi-

"Can I help you?"

Han Su-yeong felt all of the hot air she had been blowing herself up with to justify her current situation deflate upon hearing that voice of his.

The man she'd injured looked up at her with hollow black eyes. Eyes that perhaps had only seemed bright while being illuminated by a screen.

His voice was mild, too. As if getting punched in the face were something that was merely tiresome to him, instead of something to stir anger or indignity. The reactions that Han Su-yeong had been mentally preparing herself to butt heads with.

Nothing about his reaction seemed to ask Han Su-yeong for her motives. There was no race to find an explanation behind those hollow eyes. No bit lip, straining to come up with a turn of phrase to become an appropriately biting retort.

This guy wasn't an author.

...

Hey...

Why had she punched this guy again?

"Sorry." Han Su-yeong found herself saying, as her body deflated, extended arm going back to her side. "From the behind, you looked like my shitty ex."

She let herself fall into the cliche.

"Ah. I see."

Han Su-yeong hated the guy's expression, just then.

It was one that said, 'Well isn't that just my luck?'

But she couldn't help but watch, as this unlucky guy stood up and picked up his phone, brushing it off instead of himself, as if it were more precious to him than his own body.

And when that Dok-ja turned around, Han Su-yeong only saw his back for a second, before the sight of him was once more swallowed up by the uncaring world of the subway station crowd.

#exe i know you're kind of lowkey evil and didn't read the epilogue all the way through and its ok i love you but im coercing you now ok <3 #Parts that are from the original are in italics they're from 535 #orv spoilers #also i know i usually do the names from the Rainbow Turtle translation but I decided to style match for this one #not beta'd #writing #ficlet #han sooyoung #han suyeong #kim dokja #hsy #kdj #orv #omniscient reader #also xoxoxo exe

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authoressskr · 4 years ago

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Ruby Dragon Surprise (i)

Characters: f!Reader, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Clint Barton, Mercy (*previously Y/N in Bucky’s Dragon Soulmate Story*), mentions of Peggy Carter

Warnings: Language and no Beta :: Notes: This particular story will probably be three parts, cause Steve is emotionally constipated :: Word Count: 4849

I went with a dragon!soulmate!au, which I hadn’t seen before, but I did have a nifty dream about it that spawned this whole idea. He’s still an Avenger. Events are basically still the same (not exactly the same...people are alive who died in the mcu), just with dragons. ‘Cause who wouldn’t love a dragon companion?? This will be an ongoing series with different Avengers finding their soulmates with their dragons.

Howlite and Hearts (Bucky)

Please do NOT repost, copy & paste, post or share my works on any other platform without my EXPRESS PERMISSION.

-+- REBLOGGING is fine and very appreciated! -+-

Since men emerged from caves, began using tools and reshaping their environment, they have been intrigued by the draconian terrors of all shapes and sizes that roamed the world. The first records of man and dragon working together are from Mesopotamia, pieces of shattered pottery pieced back together showing a dragon standing beside a woman. Assyrian artifacts depict water dragons helping farmers in the field. Egyptian murals show dragons protecting the Pharaoh and his family, others showing different breeds of dragon fetching books from inside the Library of Alexandria.

History is dotted with famous dragons and their bonded humans; King Arthur and his steel-colored dragon, Excalibur. William Shakespeare and his dragon, Bard. Cleopatra and Bucephalus, named after Alexander the Great’s legendary steed. Abraham Lincoln and his dragon, Crusoe.

Over the centuries, dragons have become smaller from the giants painted in mythology, old texts and wall murals. The biggest dragon these days are about the size of a large crocodile, with the biggest recorded in the last decade almost as big as a hippo. Height varies on the type of dragon - with the tallest one balancing on its tail, hits almost eye level with a giraffe.

Classes have been taught for centuries about dragons and the bond between them with humans. Dragons will sometimes die right after their human counterpart and vice versa. Dragons who have lost their counterpart will sometimes live, seeking out their counterpart’s soulmate to stay with their draconian mates as well. It is not an uncommon thing - especially after times of war - for soulmates to have both dragons if one has died.

Dragon pairs will usually have the same colors and markings, even though they will often not be the same type of dragon. Dragons may look similar to the human eye, but a dragon will know it’s mate no matter what. It has not been determined how the dragons know their mate almost instantaneously, but after millennia humans have begun to follow the dragon counterpart’s knowledge in this area. Marriages of alliance and royalty have often been changed or dropped when one party finds its soulmate. In the same vein, marriages have also been arranged due to this circumstance as well. Cinderella is the most referenced fairy tale of this, with Cinderella having the same sapphire and gold colored dragon as the prince (*Dragon color varies by region and culture).

Soulmate bonds are some of the strongest bonds in our world. Both between a dragon pair and between a human pair. And on the flip side of the Cinderella story, dragons will attempt to push their human partners together if the human counterpart doesn’t seem interested or could result in a rejection.

On the same page, a rejection of this bond - always by the human partner - can have devastating consequences. This broken or unformed bond may result in: at first, flu-like symptoms but can build up to more serious symptoms such as feeling weak or run down, tremors and/or tics, varying weight loss, chest pains and even very mild seizures have been documented. Usually the bond is mended or solidified before it comes to these more serious issues. There are also historic rumors of deaths from broken hearts due to rejections, which has yet to be scientifically proven. The aforementioned symptoms may require hospitalization.

To date no dragon has succumbed to any symptoms from their human counterparts due to the rejection of the bond, which dragon experts seem truly puzzled by due to the strong bonds that can be formed between a human and a dragon. Rejections, however, are rare and scientists aren’t yet sure of all possible symptoms associated with a rejection of a bond. Touch, however, is shown to remedy these symptoms in trials and is known to be a powerful connector between a human and it’s dragon partner as well.

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

If there was one thing Steve Rogers knew, it was that Peggy Carter was his soulmate.

He’ll admit he doesn’t think of it as often as when he came out of the ice, but he does still think about it - about Peggy - every few days. More so when Bucky, Sam and himself are out for lunch or when he and Wanda may be grabbing some coffee, because that is when he sees soulmates together.

The way soulmates look at each other is different. Like they don’t just see the person before them, but everything they are and could be; all rolled into everything they love.

And he’s envious of that look.

He knows he hasn’t received it. And he truly believes he hasn’t given it either. Sometimes he chalks it up to not being actual bonded soulmates with Peggy. Because he knows that the love that was blossoming would have turned into that loving, enraptured gaze he always longed for.

It’s the thought that gets interrupted when his cell rings on the way back from their morning run. He quickly switches his coffee cup to his other hand to fish the phone from his pant pocket, revealing Tony’s face on the screen.

“Hey, Tony.”

“Need you, the bird and the metal popsicle back here asap. Got a hit on a Hydra offshoot. Wheels up in 30.”

“Got it. We’re just a few blocks from the Tower now.”

“Pick up the pace then, old man,” And the call ends. He looks at Sam and Bucky before tossing back what’s left of his coffee and throwing it in a nearby trash can.

“Mission. Wheels go up in 30.” Sam sighs at his words.

“Morning calls are rare, man. Must be big.”

“Hydra,” Bucky mutters with a shake of his head before polishing off his own coffee. “Come on. Gonna take most of that time to get the scalies ready.”

“You know,” Sam mutters with a smug grin as they all continue towards the Tower, “You’ve picked up your soulmate’s habit of calling the dragons weird names.” Sam tosses his empty cup and dodges a swat from Bucky.

“Jealousy is an ugly, ugly thing Sam…”

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxxx::

Steve shifts in his place in the rafters, Rak wiggling on his back in response to peer over his shoulder down at the HYDRA agents. He nods at Bucky, who is perched across the building, just above the exit.

“Where’d you find this one?”

“Get this - a museum.” The blonde HYDRA agent cackles, leaving the brunet nodding, a serious look on his face. A loud clang of the door reveals two more HYDRA agents, dragging another person between them while a third agent follows behind with a tactical machine gun held tightly in his grip. If body shape is anything to go on, it’s a woman. A curvy and buxom one. Bucky quickly types out an update in Morse code to Natasha who is stationed outside with Sam and Tony as the brunet drags a heavy wooden chair into the middle of the room.

They toss the captive into the chair, zip tying their wrists behind them before pulling off the thick bag from their head. If looks could kill…

“Now, Miss, we are going to ask you a series of questions -”

“Fuck. Off.” Steve’s eyebrows shoot up at the venom in her tone.

“You don’t seem to know who we are.” Her jaw clenches as she looks away from the salt and pepper haired man who dragged her in. “Come now. I don’t want to injure you more than necessary…”

“Right.” She snaps, looking down at her lap with a sigh. The tall brunet who helped drag her in shifts to stand behind her, grabbing a fistful of hair and yanking her head back. Her gasp makes Rak hiss in his ear, Steve feeling his claw tips through his suit. He tilts his head to rub it against Rak’s, offering that silent comfort to calm him down.

“Now, Miss, the first question is: You work in the nearby museum, correct?”

“Seeing as that’s where you took me from…” She gasps again as the hand tightens in her hair, bending her head back a little more. That’s when she notices Bucky in the rafters - quickly closing her eyes and sniffles loudly.

“What are you working on there?”

“Paleontology mostly. But when I started there I worked in the geology department. I’m a floater between departments since I don’t have my full degree yet.” The man relaxes his grip a little, pushing her head forward towards its normal position again.

“Rocks and bones.” The older agent chuckles before rubbing his hand over his graying beard. “Do you do anything else in the museum?”

“I assist only in the two departments. The only reason I help the geology is when the woman who regularly helps is gone cause she’s having a rough pregnancy.”

“Now we know that’s a lie. You spend a lot of time in the accounting office.” Her head is pulled back again so she’s looking at the ceiling again.

“I’m not sure you lot are aware that each department has a budget. I have to submit forms every month about the spending. Plus, one of the accountants is my friend.”

“So you are saying our intel is wrong?”

“Look, I’d like my head to stay attached, but yes, your intel is shit. Probably someone just looking not to be in the position I’m currently in.”

“So the museum isn’t looking into the dragons ancestors?”

“If they are, then I don’t know about it. I’m a peon!” She yanks her head from the man’s grasp and struggles in the chair.

“Little cherub, you are a terrible liar.”

“Listen asshat, I am keenly aware I’m a terrible liar. So I tend NOT to lie. Especially to someone who has tied me to a chair and has a fucking gun!!” He sighs, giving a little shake of his head before his hand shoots out and backhands her, making her head snap to the left. Rak’s claws pierce through his suit, smoke curling from his nostrils making Steve tense under him even more. He holds his hand up in a stopping motion, Bucky cocking his head slightly before Steve gestures over his shoulder at Rak.

“Woman, HYDRA has been looking for you for awhile.”

“Seems like a waste of time to me. I can’t have anything HYDRA could possibly want. Except maybe morals.”

“We don’t need morals in HYDRA.” The blonde grunts out from his leaning place against the wall.

“I’m aware. Ya ever think that’s why SHIELD and the Avengers whip your ass? Resign you to the shadows like the phantoms you are.” There is a loud enough explosion that everyone turns towards the exit, the men all tensing. “AND YOU KNOW WHAT? YOUR SIGIL OR WHATEVER IT IS MAKES ABSOLUTELY NO FUCKING SENSE! HYDRA MEANS 5! WHY DOES YOUR SYMBOL HAVE 8? AND DO YOU ALL KNOW THAT THE HYDRA WAS DEFEATED???” Her head is sent sharply to the left again, blood trickling from her lip at the contact.

“WHO FOLLOWED YOU?!” The older agent snaps at the blonde and brunet who they saw first.

“NO ONE, SIR!” Bucky drops down just as Tony comes through the back exit, making Steve shimmy upright before he begins across the beams in the rafters to cut off their retreat.

He drops down with a dull thud, blocking the HYDRA agents as planned but the brunet with the machine gun has it pointed under the woman’s jaw.

“She’s not so sassy now,” The man in charge smirks out, stroking a finger down her cheek. He glances behind, seeing Bucky, Tony and Natasha behind him.

“You know, nasty little fellows such as yourself always get their comeuppance.” Her words loud and clear as her gaze slides towards the older agent, the muzzle of the gun digging harder into her skin at her words.

“Snarky little bitch, isn’t she?”

“I like snark,” Tony mentions, looking to Natasha who just rolls her eyes. “But that’s because I’m just so good at it.”

“Release the girl, unharmed, and we’ll take you alive.” Steve offers, Rak’s nails digging into his shoulder once more as smoke begins to curl out of his nose again.

“How about no?” The agent whom had been silent this entire time speaks with a sneer, his little blue dragon’s head popping from a pocket in his utility pants.

Bucky lets loose a single round to the knee of the agent with the sub machine gun, making him buckle and the gun drop from his grip. That’s when Tony blasts the salt and pepper haired man past Steve as Natasha cuts the woman free, only for the woman to rush past Steve and the other agents deeper into the warehouse. Rak jumps from his shoulder and flys after her, prompting Steve to sigh as Bucky runs past, following after her and Rak.

“Does she realize the exit is the other way?!” Tony yells through the comms, taking a stance by where he’d entered to fend off dozens of incoming HYDRA. Two men run towards Steve only to stutter to the ground as electricity surges through their bodies.

“Thanks Nat.” He grunts before rushing through the doorway to find his best friend, his dragon and the directionally impaired woman.

:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxxx:::

You’re trying desperately to remember the turns they’ve dragged you through, looking for the spot where they had separated the two of you and tossed a bag over your head. A man moves to grab you, only to be attacked by an aggressive ruby dragon. It then scrabbles up your legs and perches itself on your shoulder, urging you on with a little grunt. You tread a little more carefully after that, but no less urgent, a scream clogging your throat as someone grabs your shoulder from behind before slipping a hand over your mouth.

“Don’t scream.” You nod as the former Winter Soldier comes into view. “You know, the easy exit was the other way.”

“I’m aware. But they tossed my dragon in a big plastic looking box then I got the bag and drag treatment.”

“This warehouse has two floors in the front half, did they take you upstairs at all?” A shake of your head is all you can manage before the dragon flits from your shoulder and begins running down the hallway. “I guess we follow Rak then. You stay behind me and if I tell you to do something -”

“Consider it done.” You agree before gently pushing at his arm to get him moving.

Rak doesn’t stop until he’s about two hallways off where you all stopped, hissing and sending several fiery breaths towards the small side dock where HYDRA agents were loading up your dragon.

“Velma!” Her answering screech is enough to get you moving, Sgt. Barnes hand shooting out to keep you behind him. He’s got two of them shot and Rak is mauling another when you see a silver blur knock out the other two. It’s only when you turn to your right do you see Captain America snatch his shield, holding it for a beat before turning to look at you. If looks could lecture...you’d be in for a loooong one.

But as he gives you that look all you can think of is that now all the douche HYDRA agents are now k-o’ed, so you rush over to the giant box, sticking your fingers through the big air holes to stroke at her muzzle, Rak chirping at Sgt. Barnes, who steps around your crouched form and snaps the two heavy duty locks off with his metal hand. Your dragon bursts from the cage and tackles you, curling herself around your chest and neck as best she can as you coo reassurances to her.

“We gotta go,” Steve takes hold of your elbow, helping you up as you heft Velma off the ground, her wings wrapping securely around you as you follow Captain America back the way you came. Rak is riding on his shoulder and moving his ruby head back and forth between you and the hallway ahead. The Black Widow joins you halfway back and takes point, an emerald green dragon with beautiful iridescent wings in shades of purples, blacks, greens and a few splashes of a pale yellow shimmer brightly even in the dim lights of the warehouse hallway. You let out a soft grunt, hefting Velma a little higher as your arms start to tire. “Almost there. I can carry her, if you like?” He doesn’t look at you when he offers, simply continues looking forward at his measured pace beside you.

“I can manage,” Your pride answers before your tired arms can get a word in, a smile twitching at his lips at your answer, which just makes your pride suddenly all the more determined to do it yourself. He moves forward when you all get back to where the attack began, Natasha taking his place before Falcon glides in through the hole in the wall.

“It’s all secure to the jet,” He reports as he lands. “Tony is circling the outer gates to make sure they don’t have anything else - hostages or weapons.”

“Alright. Let’s get her on the jet. We’ll look her over and call into the compound for the doctor to be ready when we arrive.”

“Already done,” Natasha confirms and they all move in a protective box around you and Velma, Falcon now on your right and Natasha on your left as the good Captain takes the lead and the Sergeant keeps his place in the rear.

You’re herded - there is no other way to put it really - onto this very expensive, military-looking, and slightly futuristic jet. Falcon gestures to a seat and you kneel in front of it, carefully dislodging your draconian partner before taking the seat. Her scaled head nudges your open hand, reminding you that you’ve both made it.

Safe echoes in your mind and you nod, meeting her light amethyst eyes.

Safe, you reply as she climbs awkwardly into the seat beside yours, laying her head on your thigh.

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

“Baby,” She coos to the dragon, a shiver going up his spine at the softness and care in her tone, her hand sliding easily over it’s red scales as Sam returns to her side with a first aid kit.

“They do anything else besides these?” Sam asks gently, his finger brushing softly over her cheek where it’s already beginning to swell. A shake of her head is all she manages, “Okay, I’m gonna clean it with an alcohol pad.” Sam swipes it across her cheek and around the left side of her mouth to get off the dried blood. When he dabs just under her lip she hisses and so does Rak, her own dragon tensing up and curling it’s upper lip just enough to flash the tips of its teeth.

“Down, kids,” She mumbles out before Tony struts onto the jet.

“All clear. Let’s go home.” Tony sits beside her as the jet begins to ascend, both men’s gazes dropping to her free hand which is gripping the edge of her seat. “I’m Tony.”

“Y/N.”

“Dragon?”

“Velma.”

“Velma,” Tony repeats with a chuckle. “I like it. Suits you both. This is Jericho.”

“‘By faith the walls of Jericho fell’…is that right?”

“Exactly! ‘See, I have delivered Jericho into your hands’. My mother insisted that I know the Bible. I just liked the idea of marching and horns defeating a strong enemy. No bullets, no bombs; just faith.”

“Kind of goes against the initial sort of images of yourself, huh?” Tony leans in slightly, a grin flirting on his lips.

“Have you been talking to my wife?” She leans in too, their foreheads nearly touching.

“I think I’d remember talking to her.”

“She is very memorable.” He agrees, leaning back in the seat before waving his finger at her chest. “Buckle up. We should be there in about twenty or thirty.”

“Do you need anything?” Steve asks, Bucky’s eye popping open from his resting place in the corner and a tiny twitch of his lips making him want to glare at his best friend.

“No, thank you.” Steve nods, moving to the front to talk to Natasha when Rak flits to the floor and scurries over to her, his head tilted to one side with his begging eyes on. Steve moves to turn back to stop Rak from bothering her. “Get up here then,” A smile dancing in her eyes as he chirps happily, leaping easily into her lap and shaking his wings out before carefully settling down, his snout resting beside Velma’s.

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

You’re just nodding off when the jet lands, carefully tapping Velma and then Rak to wake them before stretching, wincing at the soreness in your face and neck.

Steve walks by you as the bay door opens before he whistles, Rak’s head perking up from the seat beside you, but he doesn’t move. This doesn’t seem to sit well with Steve, who glares at his partner like he’s betrayed him.

The dragon begrudgingly jumps down and stands at the Captain’s feet, an outstretched hand drawing you from the curiosity you felt watching Rak and Steve. You’re met with storm blue eyes and a small, easy smile.

“Come on, kid,” Unclicking from your seat, you accept his hand with a hushed thank you. You are hardly off the jet before a white marble blur nearly takes James down, his laughter ringing out before a woman appears just after, helping him up and the two of them disappearing into the building. You’re caught at a crossroads of sorts...Do you follow? Isn’t that a bit presumptuous?

“Are you Y/N?” You’re startled from your thoughts by a woman with thick black hair piled atop her head in a white lab coat.

“Yes?”

“I’m Dr. Hale. Natasha and Tony told us to be expecting you.” She gestures you forward, opposite to where the Avengers disappeared to. You follow obediently, with Velma trailing behind you, also looking to where they’d all gone. “Do you have any medical conditions we should be aware of?”

“No.”

“High blood pressure?”

“No, but if it’s high I was just taken hostage and then backhanded twice before having a gun shoved against my jaw while they tried to take my dragon.” She makes a face, eyebrows raised and fighting back a smile before she manages a big nod.

“Understandable...well let’s check all that. Was your dragon injured?”

“I ran my hands over all of her and she’s not injured that I can tell.” You look down at her, purple eyes alight. “You hurt, baby?” Velma shakes her head, her tail twitching slightly when she does so.

“Perfect. We’ll just check you over and then Tony should come get you.” All you can do is nod, following her into a very white and metallic exam room.

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

Steve’s voice can be heard through the door of his room, he’s sure of it.

Rak has snapped at him twice so far and nearly set his comforter on fire because he ordered him to stay put while he showered. Steve knew where he would wander off to and he told Rak he needs to let the doctor do their job and check them over. He had angrily settled down when Howl had come into the room, the bigger dragon tossing himself down onto Rak’s bed - successfully luring Rak to him and calming the little spitfire down long enough for Steve to get a shower.

Once he was out of the shower, Rak started up again, a stare off ensuing between the two of them while Howl looked on in amusement.

“I said no!” Steve snaps at the wyvern before clenching his jaw so tight he’s sure he hears a pop. Rak opens his mouth, flashing all his teeth only to snap it closed when Bucky’s soulmate sticks her head in.

“Sorry. I knocked, but you must not have heard...I was just looking for Howl.” Howl’s whole body shakes as he wiggles his way happily to her. “Tony just went to get the woman from the infirmary, just to let you know.” Steve scowls at her as Rak begins to follow Howl out the door.

“Hey! Best behavior. And you need to cut the whole hissing, snapping and fire at me, you little gas ball.” Rak snorts, almost giving an eye roll as Steve blocks the door. “Shoulder.” He points for emphasis, his partner huffing as he slowly climbs up onto his shoulder. “And stay there, do you understand?” He turns his ruby head away and Steve’s mind wanders to the impossible...but he quickly shakes that thought from his head.

When she enters the room with her dragon, her cheek and lip swollen a little more than an hour ago when he’d seen her.

Wanda gasps as she enters the room, looking from Rak to Velma, Rak doing the exact fucking opposite as he was told - flinging himself from Steve’s shoulder and running towards you and Velma - before giving a little squeal.

“I’ve never seen a dragon soulmate pair meeting!” Steve looks in confusion from the dragons to Wanda and then to the woman, the room now deadly silent except for the soft, contented growls coming from the pair of ruby dragons curled around each other at Y/N’s feet.

“What - no, that’s not - that’s not possible.” Steve snorts in disbelief after he manages his oh-so eloquent words. “No. She’s not my soulmate,” The words tumble from his lips before he has a chance to really think the situation over but his eyes still see everything.

They see the hope that was blossoming in her soft eyes and they see the confusion flash through those pretty eyes before the hurt makes the light die out in them, her eyes dropping to the floor quickly.

He opens his mouth to refute his own words - to apologize and take it back - when he sees Bucky glaring at him.

After all, hadn’t it been him who had told Bucky to go after his dragon and his soulmate? Who had told Bucky he’d give anything to be in his shoes? And now that he was, he had just rejected his soulmate.

You could hear a pin drop as he stands there gaping like a fish before managing to firmly close his mouth.

She’s staring at their dragons, snouts pressed along side each other with their wings touching, tails twined together before she looks up and blinks rapidly. He knows she’s willing the tears away and it physically hurts him to see her avert her eyes.

Clint steps forward, whispering in her ear before offering her his arm. Clint takes her past him, both of their dragons trailing eagerly after her and both blatantly ignoring his very existence.

“All clear boss,” comes a familiar accented voice, Steve can feel all of his family’s eyes boring into him before Natasha speaks up.

“What the actual hell, you dumbass?”

“My sentiments exactly.” Tony pipes up from behind her.

“Didn’t you say you wish you were in my shoes?” Sam just harrumphs at Bucky’s words from where he’s sitting on the couch by Bucky and his soulmate.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…” Wanda mutters among the other comments, worrying her bottom lip.

“It’s not your fault, Wanda,” Mercy soothes from the couch, hand gently squeezing Bucky’s as her dragon Cloud moves from her shoulder to Bucky’s, sensing his tenseness.

“Clint’s giving her a tour. She’ll be staying here until we can find out specifically why Hydra was after her. That should give you enough time to pull your head out of your ass,” Tony states while shoving his long sleeves up a bit on his forearms, hitting Steve with a “Sweet Jesus” side eye that Steve was all too well acquainted with.

“It just came out!”

“Like diarrhea…” Pietro says loudly from the kitchen, tossing a handful of grapes into his mouth. Steve glares at the male Maximoff, whom he literally didn’t even realize was in the damn kitchen.

“Again, it just came out. I didn’t even think about what I said!”

“That is abundantly clear,” Howl crawls into Bucky’s lap at his words, big eyes pleading to his human dad for pets to calm them both down, tail twacking Mercy who just rolls her eyes playfully at his needy and loving response to Bucky’s mood. Bucky smiling oh so softly at Howl and Mercy, as he strokes the oversized dragon taking up his lap.

Steve watches that and he aches for it. Those knowing looks to share with his soulmate.

But Peggy is gone.

And he doesn’t know where to go from here with this woman. Or the fact that Rak is completely convinced that Velma is his mate.

Because he is pretty sure she isn’t.

‘Pretty sure’ isn’t going to cut it for everyone else though. It definitely won’t be enough for Rak, that little gas ball of betrayal.

Steve was well and truly fucked.

Tagging: @moonbeambucky @thewhiterabbit42 @nobodys-baby-now @unleashthemidnight @stay-frosty-royal-unicorn @chelsea072498 @clockworkmorningglory @sakurablossom4 @marichromatic @blondecoffeecake @ourloveisforthelovely @whinywingedwinchester @feelmyroarrrr

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers au #authoressskr writes #dragon!soulmate!au #marvel fanfiction #steve x reader #part i

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monkberries · 4 years ago

Note

So here goes: Personally I find Paul to be hot with a beard. But it annoys me because there’s always some Paul stan who’s like “he was super depressed during that time you know” anytime someone says how hot he looks with a beard. Like first of all, I don’t think we should go around diagnosing people and assuming how he felt 24/7 just based on a couple of quotes when we don’t know him, and second of all I was just saying he looks good. Also idk why Paul stans want to pretend like Paul is STILL a victim when he’s definitely not. He’s a super successful billionaire musician. He’s fine.

I'm going to assume all four of these were from the same anon; I received another along these same lines that seems to be from someone else:

OKAY. There's a lot here.

As I've said before, I think the concept you are both talking about - that Paul is the favourite, that people will attack you if you criticize him, that people are vilifying John more now - is true, but is also a matter of perspective. I think sometimes we perceive the whole fandom as just the people we're surrounded by; that can be true in smaller fandoms, like for obscure shows or whatever, but for the Beatles, the fandom is so much bigger and more spread out across generations, social media platforms, and works of literature than almost any other fandom. There are literally thousands upon thousands of books either about or tangentially about the Beatles; there are pockets on every platform from tumblr to twitter to podcasts to instagram to facebook etc., and it branches off even more niche within those to like, facebook groups specifically for podcasts about the Beatles, or discord servers, or livejournal threads, or music forums, or fics on ao3. There are fansites with thoughtful speculative articles like heydullblog and blogs specifically reviewing Beatle books like beatlebioreview and sites cataloging every bit of minutiae like the Beatles Bible, all with their own flavor of comment sections. And not only that, the Beatles fandom spans generations and cultures in a way that almost nothing else ever has or ever will.

And this is not even going into the shifting narratives that have been in play over the years surrounding Paul specifically, and the huge, huge difference between the perceptions of him by the authors and the Counterculture People, the perceptions of him by regular ass Wings fans who have only idly flipped through Rolling Stone while waiting in line at the local bodega, and the perceptions of him by everyone in between, who may or may not have been unconsciously influenced by the wider narratives about him.

All that is to make the case that the fandom that you are experiencing on tumblr/twitter is an extremely small fraction of The Fandom at large. For every Paul stan on twitter that yells at people for not believing that Paul literally invented music, there is a John stan in a facebook group going on about John's supposedly tireless peace efforts. For every nuanced, well sourced post on amoralto's blog, there is someone in the Beatles Bible comment section saying that John and Paul hated each other. For every fan who's read the major Beatles bios with a critical eye towards bias, there are plenty more fans who just absorbed them as straight fact. This is not to say that your experiences are not real or valid! They absolutely are! What I am saying is that there are infinite permutations of infinite Beatles fandoms out there, and the people you see who insist that Paul is still treated worse than John, I would imagine, are occupying various permutations of the fandom where that is more true, alongside the one they share with you. It's not for me to say whether the Paul or John people have the upper hand on the whole - truly, I don't think anyone has enough perspective on the whole fandom to make any judgment on that, no matter what general Grand Pronouncements anyone may make about The Fandom.

As I've said before, any overly defensive "stan" behavior, whether it's for John or Paul or George or anyone, is exhausting to me, so I definitely understand where you're coming from re: him being supposedly underrated. He is literally one of the most successful musicians of all time; as of the beginning of this year, he is worth 1.2 billion dollars; and, thanks to his own efforts and the efforts of quite a few fans and writers out there over the decades, he now enjoys an incredibly positive "granddude" reputation. There are ways in which it can be exasperating to read yet another indignant refutation of music reviews for RAM that came out fifty years ago, when his last three albums have hit the top 3 in the charts in both the US and the UK and have gotten great reviews. I have seen people wonder, honestly wonder, how much more money Paul could have made, how much more respected he could have been, if the rock press had been inclined to give RAM good reviews. When I see that, it does start to feel like fans of Paul, at least the defensive ones in the fandom permutations I occupy, are arguing with the author photo of Philip Norman in the book jacket for Shout!. It's not that I think those arguments and discussions are not worth having; I do think they're worth having because I believe that the only way we can continue to grow is if we grapple with the mistakes made in the past. But there is a strange kind of disconnect that happens when you read about someone indignantly defending Wild Life as though the members of Wings are currently, actively having eggs and rotten fruit thrown at them, and then you remember that Paul is currently, and has been for many years now, one of the richest men in the entire world.

As for the misogyny thing, I'll copy and paste a quote from Erin Weber which may explain a little better than I can:

"Where it starts entering into serious discussion for me is when you have professional grown men (Schaffner would be the most glaring example of this, but not the only one) repeatedly using the term “pretty” or “pretty-faced” to refer to another grown man. (Norman does the same). Schaffner doesn’t only do that once or twice, he uses one of those exact words at least fifteen times in his references to McCartney. “Pretty-boy” is also a term that at least one journalist has used to describe Paul, and that’s not a stealth insult: that’s an overt one. (My husband, who hates the Yankees, routinely used the term “pretty-boy” to insult Alex Rodriguez. And it wasn’t meant as a compliment).

My reaction to this is based both on studies that I’m aware of (I’d have to hunt them up, but I’ve seen them referenced before) which argue that the use of feminized language can be a method of stealth insult/diminishment when used by men to describe other men, and my own personal experience. It is difficult to see a situation where a grown man using the term “pretty” or any variation of the word “pretty” to describe another grown man means it as a compliment. Even if its purely meant as a descriptive term, it is a descriptive term that is weighted with significant meaning and is feminizing. And given the rock press’s obsession with masculinity and its insistence, as noted in other studies, of using masculine terms to portray a song as good and feminizing terms to describe them as weak or inferior, I don’t think its a coincidence that a rock press that knew well the power of masculine and feminine language commonly used feminized language, particularly in the 1970s and 80s, to describe McCartney."

I personally see this more as pseudo-homophobic than pseudo-misogynistic (like, when I see a man called "pretty" by another man in an insulting way, I immediately think "oh, that author wanted to say a gay slur but he's too Professional"), but the two things can get muddled together, I suppose.

Anyway, actionable items:

Diversify Your Fan Experience. More perspectives can really help gain a fuller understanding of not just the fandom but the Beatles themselves. Don't be afraid to be wrong, and don't be afraid to be right; always be open to learning new things and hearing new insights.

If All Else Fails, Block 'Em.

#macca #anonymous #i guess this is #hot take tuesday #?#even though its thursday night #about the blogger #for reference

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life-rewritten · 5 years ago

Text

The Gifted Graduation: GIRL POWER!

Alright, Gifted Graduation episode 11 aired, what else to expect apart from plot twists, reveals, thrills and worries for our characters. We also got introduced to a few WOMEN this time, each one of them being so important and so useful for this show. First of all, let's return back to the way this show is written so you can get what I'm going to be writing about: it showcases a message about idealism for a better world and how this message is fought for or interpreted in different generations ( this happens when we look at how our fated pairs portray this ideology/how they fight against the system).

The system is a set of ways and rules, and ideas about how the gifted characters are used/treated in their world. We're going to start this with the first creator of this messed up system Supot, he’s the originator of this hellish system that the gifted programme is based on. He's the one who experiments and uses and discards people according to their importance to him. This system is a metaphor for the laws/regulation, and perceptions society has had when it comes to the perceived minorities of the world. Today I'm going to focus on the voice and the importance of the women in this show, but you know what's incredible is that we also got to see that same writing and mirroring with the girls as we look through their role with the fated pairs and how they're introduced this season. Let's begin:

We have our fated pairs who are destined to butt heads with each other of over this theme of idealism, power, and change, but what about the girls who found themselves in the middle, or connected to our pairs: Our three/ maybe four incredible, powerful and beautiful women? This pattern is so unbelievable for me because the story and the way these three women were portrayed was also to showcase the journey of women empowerment, advocacy and equality during the four generations of this show with the gifted programme (i.e. the problematic system of the show).

Let's look at our wonderful girls

We have Nate; she represents the cold, closeminded, and difficult time in a policy where women were powerless and couldn't do anything for themselves.

We have no woman with our second fated pairing, but I feel like Darin is her placeholder (she's the same age, job and the same use as Pom in this programme) which represent the disappearance and the way women were not viewed as useful in a patriarchal society when it came to changing the world.

We have Namtan (NAMTAN my girl) who represents when women started to want to speak out; women came out as curious, excited (the same time where we begin to see someone like Pang who wants hope for the world to change, the system is starting to be viewed as wrong and it needs to crumble)

And lastly, we have Grace, and also Adult Grace who represents what women can be now, we can be in charge of the operation, in control, more knowing, the only solution to problems and also needed.

I think this is powerful, and I wanted people to see and know this more because this pattern is so intriguing during a show which already showcases how generations have changed and started to fight for what is good and right: equality, freedom of speech, and justice. In a world where things seem crazy, disappointing and still needs change, the growth from seeing the transformation/importance of the roles of these women as time passes is so inspiring and powerful. So here we go this is my girl power post, my break down again of why Gifted Graduation the series is incredible and the messages of this show is so relatable and needed in this year where we too are currently trying to fight for what we want all over the world.

NATE:SILENCED, USED AND ABANDONED

Let's look at our message; idealism for change and a better world, right? The fated pair connected to Nate is Yuth and Supot. One because she is the girlfriend of Yuth, and she is wanted and longed for by Supot who views her as his property(she's supposed to love him and be his because she fell for a fake copy of him).

When looking at the message of the show, Supot represents the set in their way, harsh, and pessimistic view of a system that has been winning and succeeding in hurting and maiming people, and it was acceptable to do so. In the same way, Nate represents women in this sort of time where this type of system saw women as obedient, properties and objects only seen as companions to men, only seen as successful when married or when they give birth. This is the system where it was okay that women were seen as less than men, right?

Hear me out: Look at how Nate is used in her story/time, and we even see more of the treatment in this episode:

One we're introduced to her as Supot's companion: She's not useful, only brings food, and there to spend time with Yuth (who she thinks is Supot).

The real Supot sees no use for her yet until it's time to use her as an experiment (his property).

This leads to her being used, end up being hurt and discarded once Supot and Yuth don't know how to cure her.

She's thrown away from the story, and Supot and Yuth lose focus of her to focus on the ministry.

When I look at this, I already see Nate being used for other's benefits, hurt and broken because of being used, and also just as an object to help Supot reach his objective with the virus that he discovers.

Plot-wise: she is only useful when she's submissive, and allows her self to be manipulated. After she gets hurt, she's thrown away from the plot, and the focus is on something else more important like the virus and the experiment.

This is how women were used and treated in this type of generation; they were forced to be submissive because they felt like they had no choice, they were silenced and discarded once used, and no one heard the cries or screams, and they were only used only to advance men when it came to life. Their sole purpose was to be a companion to another man. I still cry for women in the past where this was okay. But Like Supot, this system in the patriarchal world was seen as the norm/ winning way. This was accepted because women didn't think they were strong or powerful enough to fight against it.

We then look at Nate's role in episode 11: still representing the same role.

In episode 11, we find out that Nate was forced to change her identity, to go into hiding.

One because she has no identity of her own this further proves again a time where women were just seen as objects with no personality of their own, no voice of their own, no strengths of their own.

She was under Supots powers this whole time to do his bidding. Again she's forced to be submissive, obedient and scared.

She tries to fight each time she wakes up from his powers, but she's too weak to do so.

Finally, she tells Supot she will never love him or conform to him, and she is then killed. See what I mean?

This is like the time when if women did something to rebel or try to go against the 'law' they were hurt, broken down, or silenced so they could not stand up for themselves. Society forced women for so long to stay voiceless, accept the life they were forced into and let themselves be hidden. It hurts, and that's what happened to Nate as well. In a system where things are set in their ways, where Supot views people as dispensible, voiceless, and tools. The woman who was by his side was also the same. She couldn't do anything to make a change. I think this is so painful but needed to be understood and changed.

N/DARIN; HIDDEN, DEVALUED AND POWERLESS

This is what intrigued me when we look at Chanon and Pom's time. Their system represents when people started to question what was right or wrong but kept quiet when different rules had begun to seem too harsh when people started to make plans in secret; things were hidden in subtext, people ran underground to hide and be safe. People tried to fight for freedom and rights, but it still ended up failing.

The interesting thing when we get to this is that there is no girl connected to Chanon and Pom, we could argue Darin since she plays the same role to them, she's the same age range, and she fits into this role as well.

But I just saw it as N, the representation of women's voice being hidden (like Nate was after being discarded), devalued and powerless, This is the same way that Chanon and Pom feel by the end of their time;

Women may have started to question what's happening, started wanting to change the system,

But the system ensured that people who tried to fight just got proven that they can't, that nothing will change and it'll always be that way.

No girl is helping Chanon and Pom, because women weren't viewed as useful or significant for change.

They weren't seen as intelligent, and their skills were undervalued and did not add anything to the system. They were missing but not for long.

Let's look at Darin with this same theme. Darin is also useless, we see times where she tries to make a change, to stand up for her self, to question what's right.For example trying to not hurt Supot at first, finding a cure for the kids, and with ensuring Pang says what he wants to say.

But her refusing to listen to the minister just makes things worse. So her advice and help is useless and not significant to the story. Also, she later gets under Supot's control, she is powerless under the ministry, and she is then hidden away from the storyline.

She is a perfect example for the girl who could have been with Chanon and Pom as she finds her self in their situation, hopeless, devalued and defeated.

NAMTAN: INQUISITIVE, EFFECTIVE AND INTELLECT

Then we get to our show, the message/system for this time of our generation. The Gifted first started with Pang and Wave and so with PangWave duo came someone who caused a change in our pattern so far.

We get Namtan.

From the beginning of Gifted Season 1, she's someone who knows she's intelligent and she goes for it.

She's curious, the person who first discovers hints and secrets to the past and she's the brains of her new friendship group with Pang and Ohm.

She also later speaks to Wave our next person in our fated pairs, she's the person who listens to him and convinces him with Pang that he could trust and be seen.

We are starting to see a shift with this system: the woman is needed, she's important, she has clues we need to know, she's intelligent and helps us understand things differently, she's kind and warm and helps people too.

We finally have a badass with Namtarn, and it's a relief to see. Pang and Wave pairing represent belief, determination, and advocacy for a change.

No longer will people just accept what's wrong, but we'll fight for it too, no longer will women sit back and not be heard. Still, we'll call things out too; we'll start to fight for equality to be seen as necessary, we'll begin to want to make headways, we'll begin to follow our dreams and our intuitions, and we'll start to matter too.

The best part of episode 11 is when she shows up again.

She's still the brains of the mission, still the heart and the person who helps Ohm understand what he has to do,

She's always helping and being useful even when she was forced to leave.

Women at this time may sometimes feel compelled to give in, may sometimes feel pushed to the side, but we still fight for our voices to be heard with Pang and Wave symbolising hope and the idealism for change and equality, Namtan shows up as a refreshing symbol also for that in her own trio.

However, in her story, they were still beaten, she still struggled towards the end of season 1, and she gave in to Supot because she wasn't trusted enough by Pang to help in his plans.

There were still times where her help was devalued, pushed away or defeated.

So we go to the next generation and that's:

GRACE: BOSS, HEADSTRONG AND IN CONTROL

The best one ever:

She's badass, bold, and doesn't care about people trying to stop her, she gets her way no matter what (episode 1) even if she has to find a different way to do so. She won't be pushed to the side,

But she also is caring and intuitive.

She's a boss; she calls her own shots in episode 11, she is useful to the operation and then she becomes in charge of the process.

She's the person needed to keep fighting, her voice and her powers are required in order to save everyone from giving up.

Grace is us, the new hope for our world, the hope where women don't stay behind anymore or let ourselves be treated differently. She's the voice of the voiceless this episode, a problem solver, and a jack of all trades; I always wondered why she said she was this in episode 1 to Time when they were cheating the system to allow the gifted program (her already not conforming to rules and the system for her own wants and needs), but now I get it. It's because women can be good at anything, no labels, no difference we're equal), she's strong, and she's used by no one else but her self.

I think this is such an important and power move from this show because whilst:

Nate being controlled and manipulated under Supot.

Darin controlled and manipulated under Supot.

Namtan's memories wiped under Pom and Supot's control.

They ended up being controlled and influenced by others. But not Grace, Grace avoids it repeatedly because she's always saving her self because of her potential ;

She avoids being controlled by Supot with the virus

she evades Pom's memory pause because of her future self waking her up,

And she avoids being caught by Supot in episode 11 because her future self wakes her up

And two she doesn't let anyone tell her what to do, and three she is controlled by her own potential (a metaphor that women have a great potential to become great and amazing if given the chance to. Tap into your potential and be whoever you want to be and change the world to how you want it )

I think it's incredible the fact her powers are to do with finding her most powerful, hopeful, needed self (the future of women) to help with the mission, the fact that she doesn't get manipulated any more by Supot's trick, and the fact that Supot will be blindsided by everything she did this episode.

It's the message of the show, no matter how much it seems like things are falling apart for whatever or whoever you are, whatever you feel you've been fighting for that society has to respect and treat right or whatever that makes you feel useless/discarded; no matter what keep fighting, keep being you, keep opening up and standing for what's right.

This generation is born to be woke, we don't mess around, we don't let things stay the way they are, we fight, we scream, and our opinions matter. The fact that the gifted have this parallel showing the growth of self-acceptance and importance women have gone through is so incredible. So yeah girl power! This one is for all the feminists and the women who are doing their own thing, standing up for what they believe and doing what makes them happy. Don't let anyone tell you, you're not strong, beautiful and needed. You are.

#the gifted graduation #the gifted #the gifted the series #thai bl #thai drama #the gifted season 2 #pangwave #gmmtv #grace #namtan #nanon korapat #chimon wachirawit #tgg #november #cwg #fvete

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wayward-mikaelson · 5 years ago

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Winter’s Doll--Chapter One

Word Count: 3105

About: A new recruit joins the team

Characters: Nadia “Nadie” Alekiev, Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Nikola Alekiev, Wanda Maximoff, Vision, Bucky Barnes,

Pairing: None

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Language, a little bit of angst, mention of death, flashback

A/N: There are some Bulgarian phrases such as Baba (grandmother)...,I used google to help me with these, and if I messed something up and you are familiar with these phrases please let me know. I am trying to just keep it simple since my character has Bulgarian background but isn’t fluent with the language except for a few phrases.

*This work contains content meant for the 18 and up crowd.

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Today was the day and Nadia Alekiev wasn’t nearly awake enough to take on the day. She was going to need all the caffeine she could get her hands on. Nadia had been awake since two in the morning wrecked with nerves and excitement. Maybe even fear, since this was such a huge step for Nadia. Every meditation technique she tried, it wouldn’t help her go back to sleep. So Nadia spent her time going over her ‘New Recruit’ packet. The packet was actually a binder that was super detailed. Whoever wrote it really wanted to make sure the reader knew what they were getting into.

Nadia was only allowed to pack one small suitcase of clothes and personal belongings. Everything else, would be boxed up by agents and donated while her small apartment would be listed as a safe house. Something that was hard for Nadia to agree to but, she had been trying to get into the Avenger program for two nearly years. So, she reluctantly signed it all over. Anything to get into the program, right?

As Nadia pulled a decent sized suitcase from her closet, a small shoe box fell to the floor. The contents spilled to the floor. Smiling ever so small, Nadia picked it up and stuffed the small contents back into the box. Nadia almost forgot that she had it stashed up there. It would now be accompanying her to the compound where she would now be living. The box was all Nadia had left of her dead brother.

Right on schedule, a knock came at her door. Zipping up the suitcase and slinging a bag over her shoulder, Nadia took one final look around her apartment before opening the door. This place had been her home for the last decade and had so many happy and painful memories.

When Nadia opened the door there stood a woman with shoulder length red hair and a serious look on her face. “Nadia Alekiev?” she asked, her green eyes were impossible to read. Her voice was professional yet slightly intimidating.

“That’s me,” Nadia gave a small smile shifted on her feet. She hoped to feel less intimidated by the woman standing in front of her.

“I’m Natasha, I’ll be taking you back to the compound while these two gentlemen,” Natasha gestured to two men dressed in black and wearing super dark sunglasses. They, too, were also intimidating. “Take care of the rest of your apartment. Shall we get going?” Down to business, Nadia thought. She nodded.

Natasha lead Nadia to a nice black SUV where the window tinting was just about almost illegal. Placing the suitcase in the backseat of the vehicle, Nadia got into the front seat and buckled in tightly. Natasha looked like one of those women that have a heavy foot.

Once on the road, the nerves started back up again. Nadia crossed her ankles and began to twiddle her thumbs. From the corner of her eye she saw Natasha’s green eye’s zero in on her actions. Nadia crossed her arms over her chest and stared out at the road in front of her. She hoped the nerves would calm down. She felt Natasha’s expression on her get hard and her eyebrows furrow.

“How much sleep did you get?” Natasha’s voice was soft. It helped Nadia relax some.

“Not much,” Nadia replied. “Is it that obvious?” she then asked looking toward the woman at the wheel.

Natasha quickly flashed a questionable like smile her way. There was also a sparkle in her eyes. “It’s my job to notice just about everything in my surroundings, Ms. Alekiev.”

Nadia looked down and started to twiddle your fingers again. Great, she thought, my first day and I look tired as fuck. She watched as her fingers played with each other taking her diamond-ruby ring off her finger and putting it back on and repeating the action again. The ring was given to her by her brother before his death.

“Can I ask you a question?” Natasha’s voice had Nadia look up. “With experience like yours, you would have had no issues getting into any program. Why the two years?”

Nadia turned her head back toward the red head. “Experience like mine?” She asked.

“I’ve seen your file,” Natasha gave a fast look at Nadia then her gaze snapped back to the highway in front of her. “You could have gone anywhere. Why the top?”

Nadia took a deep breath and straightened up. No one asked her that questions before. Not even during the brutal interview process she had endured the week before. She licked her lips before responding. “I believe I have a skill set that is worthy to help out the Avengers. I have combat experience and I am quick on my feet.” And my brother died two years ago in a bombing that had the military discharging me faster than anything without reason, Nadia wanted to say. But she didn’t think that something that personal would have mattered.

What happened next, was fast.

From the corner of Nadia’s eye, she saw Natasha’s free hand snap from her lap. Nadia’s instincts kicked into hyper drive. She twisted the upper half of her body to grab Natasha’s hand. She bends it back, causing her to drop the guns she had drew. Nadia picked up the gun and pointed it at Natasha’s head. The SUV hadn’t even swerved an inch off the road.

“Good, you are quick on your feet,” Natasha said calmly. “Well, quick to think on your ass.” She gave a sly smirk. “I like you.”

Nadia did lower the weapon in her hand. “What the fuck?! So that was a test?” she asked, her voice rose an octave. The adrenaline was acing through her veins and her heart beat a million times a second. “I could have shot you!”

Natasha’s teeth flashed when she smiled at her confused passenger. “But you didn’t and you passed.” Nadia lowered the weapon and slowly handed it back the woman in the driver seat. If she wasn’t a wake before, she sure was now.

They arrived at the compound twenty minutes later. Nadia was still on her adrenaline high while her entire stomach was being attacked by butterflies. At least she hoped it was butterflies. Nadia slid out of the vehicle and looked at the huge building in front of her. This was actually happening, she thought. I’m finally here. She pulled her suitcase from the back and followed Natasha inside the front doors.

“Welcome,” a voice said coming from the left. Nadia stopped in her tracks and watched as Captain America, himself, approached them. Wearing a dark tactical suit that defined his muscles better than his normal tact suit. Then the beard he had almost took up his face. That made Nadia weak in the knees. “You must be our newest member. Steve Rogers.” Steve held his hand out and Nadia took it and gave the super soldier a firm handshake. Oh thank God, she thought, I didn’t pass out.

“Nadia Alekiev,” she replied. “This place looks incredible.” Nadia gestured to the whole room around them.

“It is pretty amazing is it?” Steve crossed his arms. The muscles began to pull at the seams of his tact suit. “I’ll let Agent Romanov show you to your room. We have a meeting at noon in the conference room. Don’t be late.” With that Steve walked away leaving Nadia and Natasha alone.

“Alright,” Natasha motioned for Nadia to follow her again. “Let’s get you to your room. You can rest up and shower there. I’ll come back for you at eleven forty-five to show you where the conference room is. There will also be food and coffee there. Something Steve had done to make sure the team showed up.”

Natasha lead Nadia down to the living quarters and showed her around. It was furnished beautifully with nice furniture that looked like it cost hundreds of dollars. The kitchen and dining area was huge as well. In the far off left corner of the dining area was a fully stocked bar. Complete with bar counter and bar stools. Nadia already saw herself sitting there on the rough days.

“Food is first come and first serve, unless it’s marked down with a name,” Natasha said as she kept walking. Nadia was almost having a hard time keeping up with her as Natasha walked fast and with purpose. “Now here,” She continued back into the large living room. “This is where we all gather for Steve’s boring historical movie nights or Tony’s last minute game nights or whatnot. To the right, are the women’s rooms and to the left are the mens rooms.”

Before Nadia could get a word out, Natasha started her way towards the women’s rooms. “Um, Agent Romanov,” saying her name felt weird coming out of her mouth.

“Please, call me Natasha,” Natasha didn’t look back.

“Okay, Natasha, is the separation to help from other team members from sleeping with each other or something?” The moment Nadia asked that question, Natasha stopped at a room and unlocked it.

“Sort of,” Natasha pushed open the door and looked back at Nadia. “Not since Vision though. He walks through just about anything. But we keep our side cleaner than the boys. Unless your Steve. Steve’s sort of a neat freak. Now,” Natasha gestured into the room. “This will be your room. You have your own personal full bathroom. Bed is made of memory foam. Those guys from your apartment will be by later today to drop off whatever they could fit into a few boxes.”

Nadia’s head snapped towards the red head. “I thought I couldn’t have that stuff anymore? Fury told me nothing more than a bag or two.”

Natasha smiled. “Lucky, you have a team member like me who can pull strings and put the fear of God into anyones eyes.” The look in Natasha’s eyes had Nadia making a mental note to not get Natasha’s bad side. “Alright, this is where I leave you. Shower, relax, I’ll be by to get you at eleven forty-five.” With that, Natasha left Nadia in her room, closing the door behind her.

Nadia looked around at the lightly furnished room. It was very modern with some paintings here and there. It left a lot of room for personal decorating. Nadia wondered what of her belongings would make it and which ones wouldn’t. A lot of personal things Nadia owned were stored at her parents farm house. Gosh, Nadia thought, I haven’t spoken to my parents in almost a year.

Nadia set her things on the bed before checking out the bathroom. It was slightly bigger than her old bathroom at her apartment. The bathtub was separate from the shower. Something Nadia liked a lot since she wasn’t much of bath type of person. The cabinets were stock with top of the line towels and when Nadia touched them, they were softer than anything she had touched before.

Stripping down, Nadia decided to try out the shower. She flipped the water on and adjusted the temperature to what she liked. The pressure of the water hit her skin just right. It was super relaxing. Nadia slide down and sat with her knees to her chest. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

***

“I’m not going anywhere,” Nadia said to her brother as she peeked out the window. “I’m staying here until you can prove that what you said is right.”

“When I have ever said anything that wasn’t true?” her brother looked up from the computer he was trying to get into. “Aside from the time I had you convinced you were actually speaking Bulgarian.”

“I still don’t forgive you for that one, Nikola,” Nadia gave a teasing smirk. “Baba look so confused as I tried to tell her about my runaway turtle.”

Nikola laughed. “Baba wanted to have Mom’s head on a platter because her grandchildren weren’t well versed in the Bulgarian language.”

Nikola went back to work on to hacking into computer in front of him. He had to prove to his sister that the government that they had signed their lives over to were selling off elite soldiers to underground domestic terrorist groups. Nikola knew that once he and Nadia had that information it would be time to fall off the radar and run.

“Nadie,” Nikola called his sister by her nickname. Nadia didn’t know that night it would be last she heard it. “If anything were to happen tonight, I need you to know that I am right about all of this.”

***

Nadia woke up in the shower. The water was still hot, but one look at her fingertips, Nadia knew that she had been in the shower longer than she should have been. Turning the water off and grabbing a towel, Nadia wrapped herself up and walked out into your room. You saw the clock on the wall, eleven thirty.

“Wow,” Nadia spoke to herself. “I was in there for a few hours.” She unzipped her suitcase, pulled out a decent shirt and jeans and threw them on. Then she quickly brushed through her hair and threw it up into a hair band. By the time she was finished, it was eleven forty-five. Perfect timing.

Nadia made her way towards the door and when she opened it there stood Natasha. “Very impressive,” she said smirking. “I also see that you got some rest. How do you feel?”

Nadia followed Natasha through the living quarters back to the main part of the compound. “Better than this morning to be honest,” Nadia said as she was now able to keep up with Natasha.

The two of them walked into the conference room. Three of the four walls were all glass, but not just any kind of glass, the strong kind that would most likely need a tank missile to break it. Just like Natasha had said earlier, there sat coffee on at a small coffee bar. Nadia went straight towards it poured herself a cup.

As she turned around she saw some people make their way into the room. They grabbed their coffee or food. Nadia recognized Tony Stark, as we took three muffins from the food tray and at at the table. A ginger haired woman saw Nadia and smiled at her as she patted the spot next to her. Nadia made her way over to the woman and sat next to her.

“I’m Wanda,” the woman said. “You must be Nadia.”

“How?” Nadia started to ask until she heard the chair next to her move and somebody occupy it.

“Wanda, here, she can read minds and move things with her mind and do this weird red light thingy.” It was a male. “It scares me sometimes, honestly. I’m Clint, the bow and arrow guy.” He reached his hand out and Nadia shook it.

“Weren’t you supposed to be heading home back to your family?” Wanda asked raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that was until Cap said I needed to stay until after the meeting and now I see why,” Clint took a bite of his muffin.

Nadia smiled some and turned to see Steve walk in, he had changed into a dark t-shirt and jeans. The person who walked in with him was just slightly taller than him. His hair was shoulder length and Nadia couldn’t help but notice that his left arm was completely made of metal. The way he smiled and nodded when Steve said something had Nadia mesmerized.

When he turned away from Steve his eyes locked with Nadia’s. His bright, clear blue eyes stared into her dark brown eyes. The smile that had been on his face, slowly faded as he lost himself in her look. Nadia felt like her breathing caught in her chest when this mans eyes slowly looked her over. Steve then tapped the mans shoulder and said something to him and he made his way to an empty chair. The man looked again at Nadia who gave him a small smile before looking down at the coffee that sat in front of her.

“Okay,” Steve’s voice was loud and firm. “As you all know, we recruited a new team member. Some of you already met her already or saw her as you walked in. She’s ex-military, special ops. Very well versed in hand to hand combat.”

“She’s also very quick to think,” Natasha threw in. Nadia thought back to when Natasha drew a gun on her earlier that day.

“Nat, please tell me you didn’t,” Steve’s voice trailed off and Nadia looked up to see him with a hand over his face. Nadia also didn’t miss that the man next to Steve still looked at her.

“Oh I did,” Natasha said. “She passed that part. Now to see her in a combat like situation.” Natasha leaned her arms on the table and her green eyes looked deep in Nadia’s.

“Okay, well, “Steve shuffled the papers in front of him then looked up at Nadia. “Avengers, this is Nadia Alekiev. Nadia, this is the team. Now, since today is a free day, we won’t have you show off your skill set.” Steve looked at Clint and then back at Nadia, “Well, maybe two hours with Clint before he goes.” Nadia saw Clint throw his head back next to her.

“Alright,” Clint finished his muffin. “But you owe my kids a laser tag game.”

“And I,” Nadia eyed Tony Stark getting up from his seat to snag more muffins from the counter. “I will have Pepper arrange a nice little welcoming party for Miss Alexis.”

“Alekiev, Mr. Stark.” Nadia said as she straightened her back. “I know it’s hard to pronounce, you can thank my Bulgarian parents for that. Next time just call me Nadie.”

“Mmm,” Tony looked over at Steve was eyeing the situation. Tony looked back at Nadia and took a bite of the muffin in his hands. “You know what,” he said with his mouth full. “I’m going to call you Alexis from now.”

“We’ll see how long that lasts,” Nadia rose an eye brow and smirked at Tony. Tony gave a small huff and walked out. Nadia followed with her eyes and didn’t miss the attractive small smile on the man with the metal arm who still looked at her.

Steve ended the meeting shortly after that. Clint stood up and with his hands on his hips he said “Let’s get this over with or my wife will find a way to kick my ass.”

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ringwaldtworldbuilding · 4 years ago

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Ringwaldt Deities Part 2

Here are the major Dwarven deities of the Ringwaldt setting.

Vorfahr, God of the Dwarves : LG : Ancestors, Friendship, Glory, Good, Judgement, Law, Repose

Adjective; The Dwarf Father : The First Ancestor

Home;

Favored Weapon; Dwarven Waraxe

Symbol; A Gold Scale

Sacred Animal; Goat

Sacred Colours; Gold, and White

Myths of the Deity

-Some say that Vorfahr crafted each of his children from silver and gold. Ths was the first great act of Investment. So also are the Dwarve’s own children a great investment that should be cherished. Glory comes even still for what could be a failure now could be another success.

-Vorfahr instructed those that follow him to obey the words of ancestors, lest their wealth dry as poor judgement would fall.

-Vorfahr crafted each of his sons from different items. But some say that his first attempt was crafting and carved a piece of silver and white jade crafting Alta the first gnome. Other versions say Alta tricked the First Ancestor to help craft the gnomish people for him so he could go about playing more tricks upon others.

-Yrka the god of dwarves challenged the Dwarf Father to glorious matches to test his resolve against the gods judgement. For losing some versions, his Glory domain was taken from him by Vorfahr albeit temporarily. Others say he lost only to recover in the dwarf kings holds and take with him a orichalcum breastplate to gift to his followers the glorious metal

Rituals, Holidays, and Sacred Days

-Honour the Ancestors in all things, for in them you find Glory. The flaws of the past will persist. Do not Judge those in repose- let them rest.

-Judge all with hardness of stone, and the compassion of friendship.

-Abide the law and do good for others.

-Mead of all kinds is highly encouraged, but the drinking of beer is frowned upon.

-Most temples carry a spirit of one of the Ancestors that consecrated the grounds, to guide and advise others. Ancestors are of great importance to dwarves as only the most blessed are those whom are allowed to remain behind to act as wisdom to the young.

-Marry who your father or mother proposes, unless the ancestors speak differently. Be wed after a year of courtship, and produce at least 1 son and 1 daughter.

-Keep your Book close, and record in it all that transpires a record of your wealth and accomplishments.

-A proper marriage contract for Vorfahr includes acknowledgements of both sides' great deeds, the families the integration of one and/or more members into the other family, the acceptance of certain ancestors and finally the crafting of a large urn to hold the couples ashes upon their deaths. Many negotiations and deals incorporate large rules for when only a singular partner dies within the space of a year. In Dwarven marriages one cannot remarry after the death of a spouse until 1year, 1month, 1week, and 1day later with an additional caveat of if the surviving family member is pregnant that countdown does not begin until the birth of their current child. Grieving widows and widowers are free to extend this grieving period to 11years should they require it.

- ‘The Ancestors Guide My Judgement’

- - - - - The father of all Dwarves is a stickler for the rules in my eyes genuinely meaning well but caught up in making a strong system that can endure, each thing must be recorded. Well also wanting it to be clear he caught in older views - - - - -

Krieg, God of Honour & War : LN : Honour, Law, Leadership, Legislation, Loyalty, Nobility, Tactics, War

Adjective; Noble Knight : Leader of Dwarves : The Honourable Legislator

Home;

Favored Weapon; Dwarven Longhammer

Symbol; A scroll crossed with an axe with a crown in the foreground

Sacred Animal; None

Sacred Colours; White

Myths of the Deity

-Krieg is said to have created the laws of society to stop the wasteful expense of battles. After all, war should happen, but if you gain nothing from it then you lose. And besides, collecting spoils is a great pleasure.

-Krieg created the legal system as a way to do battle without bloodshed. Instead, the cunning general targets his enemy’s resources in a war of dueling pocketbooks.

-Krieg was the first son of the father of dwarves, forged from Iron and Blood.

-Krieg holds respect for his brothers and teaches his followers to not cheat their siblings but always attempt to earn more even if they are provided more. This is most entailed to Krieg not being forged of precious stones or metals unlike his siblings

Rituals, Holidays, and Sacred Days

-Honour the Leader. Honour the Laws. Honour the Legislation and those who enforce laws. Honour the great men.

-Hierarchy exists to be followed.To disregard leadership is to destroy it. One who is weak or a failure will in time themselves fail.

-Courts are a battlefield of tactics and wordplay. One earns honour in them just as in war.

-Clerics carry hammers and wear heavy white linens wrapped tightly upon their form.

-Marry who your father or mother proposes unless the ancestors speak differently. Be wed after a year of courtship and produce at least 1 son and 1 daughter. Do not seek beyond your station.

-Battle others with the word of the law as surely as a hammer. A clever mind, deadly tactics and honour go further then mindless bloodshed.

-Hostile Acquisitions is a valid tactic, temper costs danger.

- ‘Wealth is Honour.’

- - - - - Krieg is probably the most popular Dwarven deity within their home nation and has a large amount of active worship - - - - -

Bilkeit, God of Craftsmen : CN : Artifice, Chaos, Education, Fortification, Knowledge,Protection, Toil

Adjective; Lord Arbitrator of Knowledge : The Builder of Walls : The Toiling Artificer

Home;

Favored Weapon; Throwing Hammer

Symbol; A Gold bee on a rampart or tower

Sacred Animal; Bee’s

Sacred Colours; Gold & Steel

Myths of the Deity

-Bilkeit is Flanze’s brother, born some centuries apart. The two demigods would become gods for their works of craft for the Dwarven people

-Bilkeit is said to have lashed the continents together with great chains and massive immovable rods, working tirelessly to shift and stop the motions of the continents.

-Bilkeit is said to be the second son of Vorfahr, and is forged of copper and ink.

-“Cost is not important, quality is king” is what Bilkeit taught, and rebelled against Krieg’s idea of war being fought by pocket books, instead advocating for education, and protection of those who toil for the community.

Rituals, Holidays, and Sacred Days

-Toil in the fields, in your craft, in learning or just building- but do something.

-Make each day an adventure in learning new things, not only for yourself but for others. Educate freely, and help protect young minds. Feel free to have them toil for the knowledge they seek until they are ready.

-Gird yourself in the protection education provides.

-Hop and other Malt Beverages are his preferences. He prefers to leave clear spirits for his brother.

-All clerics must learn to craft something,, and most have apprentices for both clerical and forging work, educating both with equal conviction. When not spreading the word, they toil ceaselessly to improve their craft.-Clerics often carry detailed textbooks with them, and make copies of any instructional texts they can find.

-Pick up new knowledge as easily as you put down old lies.

-As a high posthumous honor for those who serve Bilkeit well, their ashes are mixed into the concrete (or other material) for a grand construction project.

- ‘May the Mortar hold for yours and your fellows.’

- - - - - I feel Bilkeit is very much the dwarven ideal of a craftsman a bit mad a bit crazed focused upon their tasks. His belief in quality a dwarven ideal but his willingness to sacrifice profits aligning him against dwarven tradition - - - - -

Flanze, God of Medicine : NG : Good, Growth, Healing, Knowledge, Medicine, Memory, Plant

Adjective; The Druidic Dwarf : The Healer of Memory : Lord of Medical Miracles

Home;

Favored Weapon; Dagger

Symbol; A leaf with writing along it

Sacred Animal; Sheep

Sacred Colours; Green & Gold

Myths of the Deity

-Flanze is the older brother to Bilkeit the warm spirited brother to his tempestuous younger sibling

-Though Flanze is the older brother he is subscribed as the 3rd son of Vorfahr and was forged of emeralds and sap.

-Flanze teaches that medicine should be for the people of the people and by the people and that memory is long as a silver vein. And that to grow a community, cost cutting will only aid one in the short term for anything longer would be failure as a weak foundation crumbles as the roots of a mighty oak

Rituals, Holidays, and Sacred Days

-Grow your own garden to learn and understand the care it takes for each item. Your own growth will come with the memories.

-Some of the most deadly poisons come from the simplest of things- as do cures.

-Take care to care

-Adapt and record, stitch and heal to put each piece back in its place.

-Clerics should always keep a sheep on hand for wool or other uses.

-Clear spirits should be used to steady oneself, and to also clean and disinfect.

-Flanze clerics carry medical daggers, and often keep them in sheaths decorated in his symbology.

-Flanze clerics dress in green robes with gold embroidery. Their temples are large stone structures with gardens along the outside full of medicinal plants. The insides are part medical facility and part church.

-Flanze clerics use a particular mushroom ground into a paste for consecrating holy places. A variety of this mushroom is also used to brew ‘Black Brew’.

-Flanze sects are divided among, those who wish to teach and protect the communities they care for, and for-profit doctors who wish to fit within greater dwarven society.

- ‘By the Stem of Knowledge’ is a common phrase for making conjecture within the church.

- - - - - I have viewed Flanze as the most like Vorfahr and yet the most opposed to him - - - - -

Overall the Dwarven pantheon is meant to be small insular and part of it is how the dwarves of the setting view the world the other part being the lack of forward motion by the dwarven gods in interacting with there followers.

The only Dwarven deity not included in this section was Honnig

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