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scariusaquarius · 3 months ago

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rehab. 20.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

A/n: Now we're getting into the nitty gritty!! This one might be pretty long, so do forgive me. Because of how long this chapter is, there will not be a story notes at the end! Also, if you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee! If you would prefer to read Rehab on Archive, you may do so right HERE!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

Author: ScariusAquarius

rehab masterlist. chapter 18 / chapter 19

His blood was pumping, heart racing and pounding deep within his chest. Despite the quinjet being in the air, Bucky was pacing back and forth in front of the lockers that were installed on the aircraft. His mind was reeling, anxiety and concern gripping at his mind as flashbacks inched and crawled towards the present part of his mind. The scar that conjoined his flesh to metal was pulsing and itching; a stark reminder of the potential for something to go wrong.

With Wanda up front in the cockpit with Clint and discussing among themselves softly, the only person left within the general area of the quinjet was Sam, who was watching Bucky with pursed lips and a frown. While Sam understood his worry, he was starting to wonder if Bucky's concern was running deeper than general empathy and compassion.

"You're gonna wear a hole into the floor, man, and we don't have enough parachutes."

Bucky's quick quip left his lips without missing a beat, annoyance clear within his tone as he continued to pace.

"Don't need one."

Sam chuckled, asking.

"I'm sure you'd want one at the altitude and speed we're at, Buck."

Bucky gave Sam a glare, shaking his head and wagging a finger at him.

"Nope, you don't get to call me that."

Sam just scoffed, rolling his eyes before he asked, his tone becoming gentler as he observed the way Bucky was starting to become emotionally-charged, his vibranium fingers twitching with the need to fight.

"Come on, man, what's going on? No judgement, no bullshit."

Bucky gave the man a glance, staring at him for a moment. While Bucky and Sam weren't the best of friends and hadn't really connected well, Bucky knew that Sam was coming from a good place. Sam was gentle despite being no-nonsense. Nonetheless, Steve trusted Sam, so in a strange way, Bucky was inclined to trust Sam as well. However, after a moment of thinking about it, Bucky pursed his lips before he shook his head, retreating into himself.

"It's nothing. Not in the mood."

Sam chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head as he adjusted his gauntlets.

"Yeah, no kidding. You've been radiating 'do not engage' since we got on the quinjet."

Bucky couldn't help but to hiss out, his anxiety starting to peak.

"You don't get it, Wilson. Just drop it."

"No, I do get it. You see yourself in her. Same programming. Same kind of trauma. Same thousand-yard stare. But you also know what she needs more than anyone, and right now, she's the safest that she can be in Wakanda."

Bucky finally caved, sitting down across from Sam as he clenched his jaw. Staring at the floor for a moment, he hesitated, his chest tightening again, and Sam urged gently.

"Talk to me, man."

Bucky glanced up at Sam before looking away, glancing down at his vibranium arm before he muttered.

"I can't stop thinking about what could go wrong. What if Rollins is already there...just waiting for the right moment? Even if the Director told us the truth, Holloway could have lied to cover his ass."

Sam nodded slightly, thinking over Bucky's words before he replied.

"Well, if you ask me, that's a lot of 'what if's to be thinking about."

The Falcon sat back, resting his arms against the tops of his thighs as he looked at Bucky, watching the way Bucky's brow furrowed. Sam continued, however, testing the waters as he stated.

"You know, maybe you're scared."

Bucky's brow twitched, and he snapped.

"I'm not scared."

Sam shook his head, replying with a raised brow.

"Right. You’re just pacing a groove into titanium flooring and chewing the inside of your cheek like it owes you money."

Bucky gave Sam a dry look, and he muttered.

"You always talk this much before a mission?

Sam smirked, teasing gently.

"Only when you get all moody and tragic. It’s like poking a bear. A very old, very stabby bear."

Bucky tilted his head, asking.

"Do you want to get stabbed? I don't mind giving free hand-outs every now and then."

Sam barked out a laugh, making Bucky roll his eyes and huff.

"See? Back to normal. Warms the heart."

Bucky's jaw clenched, and Sam sighed, becoming serious once more as he regarded Bucky with a stern expression.

"She's going to be alright. She has the best people in the world ready to go to war for her...and she's got you to make sure that she doesn't fall back into that place."

Bucky looked taken back, his body shifting uncomfortably as Sam's words went through his mind. After a moment of silence, Bucky finally opened up just the slightest.

"When...when I was still...the Winter Soldier, there was no way out. There were moments where I was starting to remember, starting to understand that what I was doing was wrong, but when HYDRA would catch wind...they'd take it all away and I'd be left a shell again..."

Bucky shifted, his flesh hand fiddling with his metal one slightly as Sam gave Bucky his undivided attention.

"Then it was just silence...confusion and pain...trying to understand what was happening and if what I was seeing and remembering was real or...or just a nightmare."

Bucky then looked up at Sam with a frown, stating quietly.

"(Y/n) is still in that place...and...and I don't know if I'm the one who can pull her out...if I even have that right when I'm still...when I'm still trying to find out when it all ends...where the Winter Soldier stops and...and James starts."

Bucky's words hung in the air like a reopened wound that was starting to smart and bleed again, and though Sam understood to a degree, he couldn't help but to shake his head and frown. His tone became stern, his eyes never budging from Bucky as his voice commanded the man to look at him.

"You think that you don't have a right to help her? You're the only one who ever could...who can truly understand what that woman needs. You got out of that place fighting tooth and nail, and you won. Bare hands with no map, and you, James, are still here."

Bucky's eyes softened just the slightest, the hammering in his chest slowing as he listened to Sam speak his mind.

"You're the only person that can show her that she doesn't have to be just a Winter Soldier...and you have. You've been helping her more than any of us ever could. I mean, come on, man! You were able to get (Y/n), the real (Y/n), to finally show herself. Do you really not understand how important that is?"

Sam sat forward a bit, pushing and exclaiming with vigor as he spoke.

“Explain to me how you’re the one who got through to her. How you saw past the programming, past the pain, and helped her to start to remember who she was. You think that’s nothing? That’s everything, Bucky."

Bucky couldn't help but to feel emotional, his eyes watering lightly, and he swallowed thickly as Sam eased his words, stating softly.

"Give yourself a little more credit, man."

Bucky stayed quiet, and Wanda came out from the cockpit, squinting slightly as the woman immediately picked up on the atmosphere between the men. Wanda asked, making Sam lean back and look at her.

"Am I interrupting something?"

"Nah, we were just finishing up."

Wanda slowly nodded after raising her eyebrow, and she informed the two Avengers.

"We are arriving, and Fury has informed us that his contact and Natasha are waiting. If you are not ready, now is the time to get ready."

Sam nodded, and Bucky stood up, his demeanor becoming guarded and tense once more. Sam glanced at Bucky before stating firmly.

"We're gonna get him, Bucky, don't you worry."

Bucky nodded as the quinjet landed, silent and invisible as it descended into the woods.

"I know. I won't stop until we do."

The quinjet opened, and the Avengers stepped out, Clint shaking his shoulders a little and sighing as he complained.

"I'm not driving back. That was torture, and I'm a bit miffed I didn't get to hear the juicy gossip."

Bucky's face contorted into annoyance before greeting Natasha with a nod of his head as the woman smirked at him.

"Are you ready to give HYDRA the biggest 'fuck you' in over 50 years?"

Bucky's lips twitched with the ghost of a smirk, his blue eyes twinkling just the slightest as he replied.

"Well, it won't just be for me, but perhaps."

Natasha's lips quirked up with a knowing smirk, sharing a glance with Sam and Wanda before she turned to the unknown man. Bucky immediately began to profile him. The man looked to be an older gentlemen, hair cropped short within CIA regulations and grey hair twinging his temples. He was tall, lean and wiry, and his eyes were a steeled and prominent grey that looked almost white within the moonlight.

Even under the dimness of the night, Bucky could spot a prominent scar on the man's eyebrow; deep and jagged. The man was staring Bucky down just as hard, his jaw squared and looking as though he was...annoyed.

"This is Eli Maddox. He was a SHIELD operative hand-picked by Fury who specialized in liaison between SHIELD and the CIA. Nowadays, he's the senior field officer for the CIA Counter-Terrorism & Unconventional Threats Division...and shadowed asset for what remains of SHIELD."

The man was quiet; few words coming from him except for a nod. Instead of bothering with introductions, he was straight to business, and Bucky liked it.

"You are here for one reason and one reason only: Get Jack Rollins the hell out of my sight and to stop him from retrieving the asset.”

His choice of words-"the asset"-made Bucky tense up, and though Eli noticed, it did not make the man back down nor lessen the blows. Instead, his eyes narrowed at Bucky slightly; sizing him up and profiling him as Eli spoke.

"HYDRA's running out of resources and time, and they are aware that their power is now diminishing. They're staring extinction right in the face. Without the asset, HYDRA knows that they're through."

Eli handed Natasha a blueprint of The Farm while he continued to speak, Natasha immediately inspecting the blueprints and entry points and exit points that Eli had highlighted and circled.

"With the information Fury told me about Rollins, this is prime time for HYDRA to get their hands on (Y/n). While she is free from the Winter Soldier programming, she is still fragile enough for HYDRA to sink their teeth back in and exploit those vulnerabilities. Rollins knows this, and that's why he's infiltrated the CIA in order to gain more information on her and where she could possibly be."

Eli crossed his arms, shaking his head slightly as he spoke.

"Since the Avengers are working with any and all government facilities, Rollins doesn't have to try very hard to get information on where their asset is. The CIA's network is vast, and with the right connections, he’s already got access to classified files that should have never been touched. His infiltration is clean. No one even knows he's involved. He’s been moving under the radar for months"

Sam asked, raising his brow in question as he looked at Eli, the man regarding him with a glance as Sam spoke.

"So, let me ask you this: how did you find out about Rollins?"

"Given my position now and previous experience with SHIELD, I input a system to monitor any internal and satellite communications and transmissions that come in and out of the CIA. Before I found out about Rollins' infiltration, I started to notice a pattern of encrypted communications, anomalous transmissions, unauthorized access to highly-classified files, such as Project Achilles and projects (Y/n) worked on before her capture. I traced these activities back to an instructor that was recently hired a few months ago, and jackpot. Found the rat right in his hole."

Sam nodded before he waved his hand in front of him, eyeing Eli before adjusting his gloves and shifting from foot-to-foot.

“Just so we’re clear: You’re not coming with us.”

Eli shook his head, replying nonchalantly.

“Nope.”

Bucky then raised his eyebrow, affirming as well.

“No backup.”

“You’ve got Barton for that.”

Natasha's voice held a tone of sarcasm, a teasing smirk upon her lips as she asked.

“No plan B, then?”

Eli offered a half-smile to the woman, stating.

“You break in, get what you need, get out. If something goes wrong, you were never there, and I don’t know you.”

Clint grunted, a slight pout on his face.

“Classic spy stuff. I miss the aliens.”

Wordlessly, Eli turned and gestured for the group to follow him as they traversed through the woods. Clint asked in a hush tone, making Wanda chuckle slightly as he poked at Eli.

"So, you know, I'm a bit hurt, Eli. You never responded to any of my texts about brunch!"

Eli replied back crassly, not even gracing Clint with a look.

"The last time 'brunch' ever came out of your mouth, Budapest happened."

Clint guffawed in mock-offense while Natasha grinned. Bucky and Sam shared an exasperated look with each other before perking up as Wanda asked.

"If I may, why exactly are you helping us?"

Eli paused, his eyes darting around the terrain to watch for any possible agents, trainees, or other high-ranked officials that could possibly be passing through the area before he replied quietly.

"Fury called in for a debt to be answered, and I was obliged to answer my duty given that Nick Fury isn't someone you just walk away from. I've been cultivating this front for years, collecting any information on HYDRA that I could since SHIELD. Believe me, I wouldn't be willingly risking my cover if it weren't for what's at stake. If Rollins succeeds, there won't be a career nor cover to be had. Not for me, and not for any of you."

The group fell into silence as Eli gestured toward the barracks, each member ducking behind the treeline while blending into the shadows. Eli’s voice was barely a whisper as he spoke.

"This is where Rollins has been holed up. I can trip the security system, but it won’t take long before the Agency knows that you’re here. Get in, grab Rollins, and get out fast."

Everyone nodded, their expressions hardening with purpose. Eli motioned for quiet before slipping toward the back of the barracks where no security camera was in sight. He pulled out a small tablet, his fingers flying over the screen for a moment before he gave the green light.

"Alright, security’s down. Move!"

Without hesitation, the team dashed for the barracks—everyone except Eli, Sam, and Clint. Bucky’s heart pounded as the familiar rush of adrenaline flooded his veins. His breath felt thick in his chest as he slipped into the building, his steps precise and soundless. Through the corner of his eye, he saw Sam launch into the air, his wings a silent blur in the darkness, while Clint blended seamlessly into a nearby tree, the shadows cloaking him completely.

Once inside the barracks, Wanda’s eyes flared crimson as her hands extended, levitating her off the ground. She swept her gaze across the rooms, her powers extending like tendrils into every corner and every mind that was sleeping soundly within. Natasha and Bucky followed closely, their movements as fluid as shadows, silent in their advance as they rushed through.

"I don’t sense him yet."

Wanda’s voice whispered directly into Bucky’s mind. The intrusion sent a shiver down his spine, and he quickly glanced at her, disturbed by the telepathic connection. He shared a brief, uneasy glance with Natasha before muttering under his breath.

"He could be on the move already."

Natasha’s voice was light but sharp as she singled Bucky out.

"Do you have to be so negative, Barnes?"

Bucky didn’t respond. His mind was already elsewhere, running through every possible worst-case scenario as they moved deeper into the building. The weight of the mission, of what they were up against, of the possibilities that Rollins was already in Wakanda, was gnawing at him. Wanda, sensing his unease, glanced back at him, her gaze soft but knowing.

"You’re overthinking it."

Bucky huffed but said nothing as they descended into the lower levels of the barracks. The atmosphere grew heavier, the silence thickening around them. Wanda paused, her head turning slightly, her focus honing in. She spoke with a new tension in her voice.

"He’s definitely here… but he’s not alone."

Natasha whispered into Wanda's ear as she looked at the woman with a stern expression, her hand slipping to her gun on her hip.

"Who is he with?"

Wanda frowned before glancing back at her.

"Director Holloway."

Natasha rolled her eyes before muttering.

"Of course. Pigs will always squeal."

Quietly, the group moved to the closed door of the dorm room, kneeling and waiting for the right opportunity. With Bucky's enhanced hearing, he was able to get a front-row seat of the tense and hushed conversation inside.

"I swear, I had no choice! They put me in a-in a corner!"

There was a pause before Director Holloway began to beg, sobs spilling out of the man as his voice dripped with desperation.

"Oh, please...please, Rollins, please...I didn't think that it would turn out this way. I didn't think the Avengers would find out! I don't even know how they did, but...but I can still help you! I can still give you everything that you need to get the asset back. I just...oh god, I don't want to die."

Bucky's face contorted into an angry sneer as he listened, his body instantly reacting to the sound of Rollins' voice as memories and flashbacks began to hit him.

"Do you think you have a choice? You are no longer important. What more could you possibly give when I already have everything I need? Once my asset is back, HYDRA will regain its footing. Control will be established once more, and a perfect new order will arise. If you cannot come to terms with the future HYDRA is cultivating, then you don't deserve to be in the future at all."

The sound of a gun being cocked made Bucky's muscles tense and ready to jump into action as Director Holloway began to plead once more. Wanda finally busted the door down, her eyes glowing brightly as she glared at Rollins. Her hands were bright, seizing control of the gun and shoving it aside before forcing Rollins back into a chair. Director Holloway was shocked, his watering eyes wide, and Rollins seemed genuinely surprised as well.

His eyes darkened the second they landed on Bucky, and Bucky was no better; his demeanor and expression akin to the soldier he used to be. Natasha was quick to raise her gun and hold it to Holloway, who looked frightened by the display as she raised a brow at him. Rollins' voice made Natasha's shoulders square as she glanced at him.

"See? You'll always find your way back to your true home, солдат."

Bucky's teeth were bared as he sneered, his blue eyes dark as he bristled with a desire to kill the man once and for all. His body was deathly still and poised; ready for the final act as the White Wolf began to prowl.

"You don't get to call me that. Not anymore."

Jack smirked, shaking his head as he became cocky; arrogance oozing from his words like rotten syrup.

"Is that what you tell yourself when the nightmares wake you up? When our memories together flash into your mind, or when that fist of HYDRA twitches like it remembers who its' true master is?"

Wanda's fingers danced as the magic around her flared, crackling like a warning as she tightened the hold around Rollins' body painfully. Rollins didn't let any sign of discomfort show except for a twitch of his lips, and Bucky was quick to grab Rollins' by the throat, the man grinning the whole time with delight.

"Tell me what the true plan is. I know you don't want her back just to regain control. The chip, the reactivations...it was all apart of some bigger plan than Project Achilles."

Rollins' didn't respond. Instead, he dodged the question by coughing slightly, his eyes wide with haughty excitement.

"There you are, soldier! Tell me, what’s the plan here, солдат? Rough me up a little? Let the witch rattle my skull? You know better than anyone—I was trained to endure any and all for HYDRA."

Bucky immediately snapped back, his voice low and dangerous as his emotions began to get the best of him, his grip on Rollins' throat tightening more.

"I was trained to kill. You're still breathing because I haven't decided whether or not I want to give (Y/n) the pleasure of ripping you apart or not."

Rollins smirked.

"You think I am afraid of you or her?"

Wanda became impatient, red entering Rollins' head and making him squeeze his eyes shut and hiss out in pain as she forcefully began to scramble his mind before reassembling it.

"Tell us why HYDRA wants (Y/n) back. What are you planning?"

Rollins sneered, but before he could retort, Wanda placed her hands on his head. Like a light switch, Rollins' became complacent; his eyes glazed over as Wanda took control.

"They want to restore faith. You take a ghost, sharpen her edges, and send her into the light—where the world can see what happens when the Avengers fail to protect their own. She’s not just a weapon. She’s a message...a message that HYDRA will always prevail."

Before anybody could react or say anything, Director Holloway cried out softly, shaking within his boots as he clarified.

"HYDRA wanted her on the inside to kill the Avengers. They thought that if they planted her there...used the implanted chip to reactivate her...that reestablishing control would be easy. They didn't realize that Princess Shuri would have been able to cultivate such an effective AI that it would undo everything HYDRA did to program her."

Bucky let Rollins' throat go, turning to the Director and making the man cower as Bucky turned his anger towards him.

"You knew about all of this...you knew (Y/n) and you let this happen to her? You just stood by and watched as HYDRA killed her, remade her, and weaponized her!"

Holloway pleaded quietly.

"Please believe me that I tried! I tried to persuade them...to make them listen to reason, but they didn't care! Her own father cultivated her from the start, don't you understand? (Y/n) existed only for HYDRA...her whole life was fabricated for the purpose of her becoming a new asset! Her schooling, her friends, her job, even her mother knew! Everyone that was a part of (Y/n)'s life knew! The only outlier to it all was Rebecca!"

The familiar name made Bucky stop cold as his sister's face flew through his head, and suddenly, Meltzer Woods made sense. But how was it possible? Holloway looked ashamed, whispering softly.

"Nobody...nobody knew about (Y/n)'s friendship with Rebecca until after it had already begun...(Y/n) had extended family in Shelbyville, Indiana...she was visiting one summer and met Rebecca. But she wasn’t supposed to."

Holloway's lip trembled as Bucky stared him down with such a murderous gaze that Holloway began to shake uncontrollably.

"(Y/n)’s handlers at the time didn’t anticipate the visit—her extended family arranged it independently. It was a loose thread they overlooked. But the two of them clicked, and—God help me—they let it happen. HYDRA thought it would build emotional range. Make (Y/n) more adaptable when the time came to turn her into the Winter Soldier. More believable in a way...but something went wrong."

Holloway was crying now as he sat defeated, covering his eyes as he began to explain more.

"Doris began to get angry and upset...said it wasn't right what we were doing, began to lash out at Robert, and began to start forming a friendship with the Stark's that was jeopardizing the Project. So when Doris tried to run away with (Y/n) under the guise of visiting Baltimore...HYDRA called in their current asset at the time."

Bucky felt his stomach drop, and he started to feel the heat of fire against his face.

'Mom?! Mom, wake up! Mom, please! I...I can't feel my legs...I can't breathe!'

It was undeniably her voice. Bucky could feel the fire crawling over him, and Natasha exclaimed sharply.

"That's enough!"

The damage had already been done, however. Bucky's hearing was becoming static, his breathing quickening, and his eyes were becoming unfocused as the panic began to rise within him. Wanda was quick to respond, forcing him to calm down, and she glanced at Natasha, who was staring Bucky down like a hawk. Holloway continued to speak.

"No matter how many times we wiped her—she remembered Rebecca. That summer. That feeling. It was the only real thing in her life. She never saw her again, but… her mind refused to let it go."

Bucky didn't speak; couldn't with Wanda forcing him into a catatonic state, and he was unresponsive, even as Natasha ordered Wanda with a stern voice.

"Wanda, get these two out of here."

Wanda nodded, and with a flick of her wrists, Bucky and Rollins were forced out of the room and back to the quinjet with Wanda escorting them as quickly and quietly as possible. All the while, Natasha was staring down Holloway, who looked frightened at the darkness that shrouded Natasha's face while her eyes remained cold, calculating, and steady.

"You disgust me. All of this time, you knew, and you did nothing. You observed, rationalized, hid behind the bureaucracy of it all because being complacent was safer than burning the whole thing down. You never tried to stop it, you just tried to stop feeling guilty about it."

She knelt down to Holloways height as the man sputtered, trying to defend himself, but he was quickly silenced by Natasha holding her finger to her lips.

"If neither her or Bucky recover from this...you're not going to either."

Standing up, Natasha quickly left, leaving the man broken and weeping on the floor as the camp began to come to life; alarms blaring and people waking up for the day. Within the nick of time, everyone was back on the quinjet, but the atmosphere was so tense, nobody could speak.

Sam was watching Bucky as Wanda continued to work her magic, keeping him calm and collected as the quinjet took off, and Sam asked quietly.

"Are we going to make him remember this?"

Wanda looked pained, muttering.

"It is not up to us to make him forget. We would be no better than HYDRA if we took his freedom to choose away...even if this is extremely painful for him."

Natasha didn't say anything. She was sitting across from Rollins, toying with a knife within her hands as she fantasized about the different ways she wanted to kill him, and Clint's voice echoed back solemnly.

"The only thing we can do is be there for him and give him time. Find out about everything already fucked him up, but now that he knows he also played a part in this? Man's gonna be down for the count for weeks. We'll ask Steve and Shuri what to do."

The team nodded, and Clint shifted the quinjet into overdrive, eager to get back to Wakanda as soon as he possibly could; nervously glancing at Bucky through the rearview mirror all the while.

TRANSLATIONS:

Солдат - Soldat. Russian for 'Soldier'

TAGLIST: @tilldeathripsusapart @vicmc624 @mgchaser @aash3 @samfunko @seventeen-x @valckenaux @babybeeelle @sc4rrc @cjand10 @bane-y-zane @notsostrangerthing @thenameswinter99

#bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #the winter soldier #winter soldier #marvel #marvel x reader #captain america #captain america x reader

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 months ago

Note

quick question- I was a bit confused in some dialogue during book 1 lol 😭😭 It’s during the later chapters when riddle has collared both ace and deuce after they’ve challenged him for his seat. More specifically, the part where yuu calls riddle out for his behavior (rightfully so) and he responds by insulting them and their parents I believe?

The confusion stems from aceyuu shippers (just wanted to clarify I’m not self shipping lmao) where they say ace ends up punching riddle because he’s explicitly defending yuu’s honor or whatever but i also see other people (non-shippers) who say ace punched riddle because he insulted ace and/or deuce’s parents? Im not quite sure which one it is and went back in the actual game to check but i feel like the wording of riddle’s insults is a bit vague? Idk, maybe im just being a bit of a dum dum and can’t properly comprehend the scene even though it’s quite simple. I feel like it’s also just because i see a lot of people saying different stuff and just wanted to hear your thoughts on it if that’s okay?

I just feel like you really understand both the story and characters in that regard haha

P.S. your posts r genuinely very informative and helpful especially for people like me who kinda have no media literacy (not in a negative way!!) pls keep up the good work you’re rlly great at it <333

Hmmm, I see 🤔

Before I get to responding to this question, I want to preface this with a few disclaimers! Firstly, I do not mean to invalidate or detract from Ace x Yuu shippers or anyone who may interpret their relationship as romantic. You should ship what you like and have fun doing it. My reply aims to be more objective, but that should NOT impede on your enjoyment or whatever it is you choose to ship. Secondly, for those who don’t ship Ace x Yuu, I will be discussing the pairing later on in this post, so please keep this in mind.

Let's first look at how the game and how it depicts the scene. This occurs in 1-22, shortly after Riddle collars Ace and Deuce in their duel for the dorm leader seat. With his victory secured, Riddle begins to gloat about how this is proof that he is "the most correct". At this point, Yuu/the player character is granted two dialogue options:

If you choose "But that's not right!", Riddle replies with, "I am the one who decides what is wrong and right! What sort of pitiful education have you received, that you cannot follow such simple rules?"

If you choose "You can't just use rules to do whatever you please!", then Riddle replies with, "If there were no penalties, no one would follow the rules. I have to wonder what sort of pitiful education left you unable to comprehend so simple a concept."

However, no matter which dialogue option you choose, Riddle continues on to say, "Clearly, you were born to parents with no great magical capability. And as a result... You lack even the basic education necessary to attend a school such as this. It's quite sad."

Deuce becomes upset after hearing this--but before he is able to act, Ace is already on his feet and manages to deck his dorm leader in the face.

Based on the fact that Riddle seems to react to something that Yuu says, the framing here implies that the "you" Riddle is using refers to them specifically. As you can see above, both Ace and Deuce take offense to what Riddle says, but it is Ace that acts preemptively and attacks Riddle for his rudeness. This is what Ace x Yuu shippers will point to as a defining moment in their relationship (though, to be clear, this scene can definitely also be interpreted as platonic!!).

… Buuut it’s not completely clear that Riddle is explicitly directing any and all insults towards Yuu and Yuu alone, even if Yuu was the one to prompt his tirade. Due to the visual novel style format of the game, we have limited assets to base our interpretations off of, so going by the game alone may not be entirely accurate to what is happening in this scene. For example, we don't know how the characters are oriented relative to one another. It's possible that Riddle responds to Yuu's dialogue and then turns away to berate Yuu, Ace, and Deuce for their stupidity, since all three of them are, in his eyes, rule-breakers. We simply cannot tell due to the constraints of a visual novel. Let’s consult the manga adaptation and see how that presents 1-22.

In the Episode of Heartslabyul, the framing of the panels centers Riddle and Adeuce; Yuuken is not involved whatsoever. (On a prior page, all Yuuken remarks on is how fast Riddle is able to cast his spell; Yuuken has no lines similar to game!Yuu’s earlierdialogue options.) Riddle stands imposing over his opponents and rants at Ace and Deuce about their lack of an education. You can see that it really strikes a nerve with Deuce (whom we learned used to be a delinquent prior to NRC). This still results in Yuu punching Riddle.

The manga seems to imply that Riddle is not insulting Yuu, but rather Adeuce. This makes sense to me, given that though all of them are rebels to Heartslabyul’s strict rules, Adeuce are the two who most directly challenge his authority.

You can see in a close-up panel that Deuce is gritting his teeth and trying to hold himself back from going at Riddle. The text in that panel involves the mention of parents who cannot use magic—which just so happens to be true of Deuce’s mother. The same mother that he worked so hard to make proud of, the mother he turned over a new leaf for. But again, it’s Ace that gets the hit in. Why is that?

Let’s check out our final source, the first volume of the light novel. On pages 319 and 320:

Riddle very clearly states “And as for you two.” This clearly refers to the fallen Ace and Deuce. He then unleashes his barrage of insults at them. Again, not at Yuu, but at Ace and Deuce. The text even goes on to remind us that Deuce would be especially rattled by Riddle’s words because of how he had come to NRC for the sake of his mom. In this version, we see our Yuu (Yuuya) being more involved by trying to keep Deuce from lashing out. Like in the game, however, Ace still gets in that punch on his dorm leader.

Okay, so… The game, manga, and light novels are different iterations of the same base story. Based on which you consume, you could walk away with an entirely different understanding of the scene in question. The game, being the most interactive medium with a self-insert main character, a gacha game which makes $$$ from endearing the characters to us, has the set-up which is most conducive for yumeshipping and thus making the player feel beloved and important in 1-22. This is obvious if you also consider that many fanservicey lines from other parts of the game (such as Ace wanting to sleep in Yuu’s room) being left out of the manga. It's also entirely possible that Riddle first reacts to what Yuu says, and THEN shifts his attention to address the group rather than just Yuu. The manga, with a more standoffish and level-headed Yuu, doesn’t speak up like game!Yuu does, so Riddle instead directly insults Ace and Deuce. The light novel, which features a timid and non-confrontational Yuu, is focused on deescalating the situation. And, like the manga, the light novel is NOT interactive and so it doesn’t need to concern itself with making the player feel special. Riddle isn’t mandated to acknowledge Yuu; he can instead be mad at Ace and Deuce all he likes.

If we were to combine information from across the game, manga, and light novel to decipher what is “truly” happening, here’s how I see it!

The light novel contains a scene exclusive to it on pages 176 and 177. As Ace is making himself comfortable at Ramshackle, he formally apologizes to Yuuya for being mean to him in the prologue. Ace explains that his meanness was because he thought that Yuuya had bullied his way to be admitted to NRC under special circumstances. “[…] the rest of us had to work our butts off to get in, and you just sorta walked in.” He proclaims that this was unfair, so it annoyed him.

This makes a lot of sense for Ace’s character. In book 7 of the main story, he expresses that he is insecure about being an ordinary mage and that he hadn’t even developed his UM yet. (Coincidentally, he has a Chat where he praises the Queen of Hearts for having no special magic but still being able to make it big—perhaps because her circumstances remind Ace of himself?) He calls himself lame and pathetic, someone who is always looking for an excuse to take the easy way out. This is in spite of the bravado he puts on and how he often brags about being better or smarter than Deuce (most notably in book 5). If we believe the light novel dialogue, Ace worked hard to get invited to NRC. He has pride in earning this, and he has something to prove while he is there. Recall that his older brother is an alumnus of the school, and that his own father is a magicless human. Ace canonically has a good relationship with both of these family members and often bonds with them through little things like card trick competitions. When Riddle insults Ace's background... he is also insulting Ace's brother and father. He is also insulting all the effort Ace put forth to get into NRC in the first place. Ace would of course lose it--especially when he has been the primary victim of Riddle's rage for most of book 1. He's the first to be collared, the one who had to apologize and attempted to make an apology tart (which got rejected). Bro's fed UP having to bend the knee to a tyrant and sick of watching everyone else do the same. The punch that comes out of it seems to me like the result of all Ace's pent-up frustrations, as well as his own fury at Riddle speaking ill of him and his family.

While Ace is unquestionably willing to ride or die for Yuu in books 4 (he takes a long public transit route from the Queendom to Sage's Island after receiving a SOS text from them) and 6 (he tries to protect his friends from Ferrymen)... I think book 1's a bit too early for him to be SO loyal to Yuu that he'd get this angry on their behalf and sock Riddle. (Book 1 takes place during the first week of school; Ace seems to have only known Yuu for a few days at this point + hasn't really hung out with them besides sleeping over at Ramshackle since he's not allowed back at Heartslabyul.) His punch definitely feels fueled by a bunch of other things rather than being extremely motivated to defend Yuu's honor. I think maybe a case could be made for the game specifically, since that's the only version where Yuu is potentially addressed rather than Ace and Deuce being addressed. However, this does take some extrapolation. You'd have to assume that Ace is actually very attached to Yuu this early on or pair it with the idea that Ace is sensitive about magicless humans in general being discriminated against because of his own father being magicless (ie Ace was insulted by proxy, even if Riddle might have aimed the comments at Yuu). Not sure if the latter argument holds up very well though, considering that Ace himself did discriminate against Yuu in the prologue because they lacked magic. Likewise, he doesn't get mad for Fellow and Gidel in Playful Land when they share about being looked down on for not being magically inclined. But hey, maybe that was just Ace being in denial and acting contrary in order to cope with his own complicated feelings on the topic. He’s been known to behave like this anyway, acting cocky despite having no UM and denying that Yuu would go home (even though we later find out he deeply does not wish for this to happen).

I definitely think that many of the game-exclusive lines and content are there as fanservice for the players, who are encouraged to project or to self-insert as Yuu. Ace in particular is one of the characters who gets a ton of this kind of yumejoshi bait-y stuff. Everyone has it to some extent, but Ace is one of the rare few who has several pretty overt instances in the main story (whereas most other characters have their fanservice content relegated to voice lines and maybe some events). On top of this scene (which could potentially read as "Ace defending Yuu's honor"), we have: multiple instances of Ace offering to share a room/bed with Yuu (once in book 1, again in book 3), he has shared his number with Yuu and invites them to call him if they "miss him", Ace's entire book 7 dream revolving around a reality in which Yuu is able to freely traverse between Twisted Wonderland and their original world (furthermore, he is the ONLY dreamer we have seen in which Yuu is involved in the dream), etc. Ace is also known to frequently tease Yuu, and, on top of having several voice lines inviting them to hang out, is actually shown hanging out with them and caring about them in various vignettes and events. For example, he has movie nights with Yuu (Idia's Labwear vignettes), asks for their opinion on whether or not he looks the part to woo the Ghost Bride, rides roller coasters with them in Playful Land while previously complaining that his ex-girlfriend wouldn’t, and worries for where Yuu might be (Endless Halloween Night). With this abundance of Ace and Yuu content, I can see why people that have the shipping goggles on--and even those who don't--might interpret early scenes as Ace acting out for Yuu's sake, be it romantically or platonically. More objectively speaking and when considering the manga + light novel though, I don't think I personally read 1-22 that way. I enjoy Ace as a character and I support Ace x Yuu shippers, but the evidence and context suggests that he's venting other frustrations to me.

Again though, this is just my interpretation. Feel free to use this information however you’d like and come to your own conclusion.

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101suouexpressions · 1 year ago

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Umemiya fostering Sakura to be his successor

This is an open secret by now, but in this post, I will dive into the process that Umemiya went through to finally decide on Sakura.

First notice: Pre Shishitouren Arc

In the beginning, Sakura was known as the kid who came to take over the old, disordered, and violent Fuurin, which had definitely given a lot of people the wrong impression of him. However, on his first day, he had proven to have good morals instead of being an arrogant power-seeker.

This had, of course, piqued Umemiya's interest and changed his perception of Sakura.

Shishitouren Arc

However, Umemiya's evaluation of Sakura only commenced when he let the boy participate in the Shishitouren fight. This is like an entrance exam to see if Sakura has what it takes to be a leader.

Clearly, the task wasn't simply "beating the Togame's ass", but it seems like Sakura has to check some certain, hidden boxes. Sakura officially passed the test when he successfully connected to Togame through the fist-fight based on just a few words from Umemiya.

It proved that not only did Sakura have a kind heart, but he could apply newly gained knowledge (this happened again at the bridge, where they had to defend the town from Noroshi, Sakura had learnt to take his environment into account in a fight) very quickly.

The Aftermath of Shishitouren Arc

It seemed that Umemiya had officially made the decision to foster Sakura to become the next leader after that. His attitude had changed.

Moreover, later into the day, instead of hinting vaguely, he explained the concept of a conversation through fists in great details this time.

Doesn't it look like he's teaching it to Sakura? Umemiya only did this because he had officially recognize Sakura as his successor, or at least, his direct mentee.

Throughout Wind Breaker

Umemiya entrusted Sakura with the class leader position, directed him to Kaji for experience, and let him face Endou. Not only did Sakura's credibility increase, but the last point is very interesting because no matter how strong and good at fighting the boy is, Umemiya must have been aware that Sakura is NOT going to win going against a beast like Endou.

Personally, I believe this is a very good parallel to the way Suou taught Nirei how to fight. Umemiya was letting Sakura experience, and from the newest chapters we can tell that Sakura was learning a lot from this challenge.

Why didn't Umemiya choose another person?

Million-dollar question! This was my missing piece, which had been preventing me from writing this post in the first place. Umemiya was in third year, he definitely needed to find a new leader for Boufuurin before he and the four generals graduated. If Sakura didn't arrive at Makochi, then who would be the next leader?

Well folks, with the newest chapter (chapter 146), I can finally give you an answer in the form of a theory.

Umemiya was going to train Sugishita to become the next leader.

I'm making a separate post for this theory, which is coming VERY SOON (I am writing it right after this post). In the mean time, can you guess why? :3

UPDATE: THEORY IS UP!

As a thank you for reading this far, have this Sakura playlist.

#my brainrot is ALL OVER THE PLACE #i promise the theory is coming in the next day or two #wbk analysis #wind breaker #wind breaker nii satoru #sakura haruka #wind breaker sakura #umemiya hajime #windbreaker umemiya #hajime umemiya #wind breaker anime

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lipstick-and-libraries · 5 months ago

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Between the Lines

PT. 4

𓋜 Pairing: Minho (XO, Kitty) x fem! Reader

𓋜 Series: The Roommate Exchange

𓋜 Summary: When You and Minho are paired for a class project, unexpected moments of honesty and tension arise. Between late-night conversations and shared silences, you discover that some things are harder to hide than you thought.

𓋜 Notes:

Hello my loves!!

I know that I take a while to upload, however, i fully intend to finish this small series and still give you more than just 4 chapters, soo..what would you think about another chapter coming out directly after this as a thank you for everyone who so kindly supports my thoughts that I didnt expect anyone to see.

Anyhow, I hope you guys are fans of slowburn and heartbreak because from now on this rollercoaster will get a little more bumpy, love will do that to you, and especially to You and Minho <3

𓋜 Taglist:

@finnbbl

@literallysza

@knivesdoingcartwheels

@teaandbacon

@dragonwitchy

@formula1mount

@strayk1ds143

@uhsophiesblog

@iweirdthingsblog

@random-human02

@elizabethgracie

@verycoolmiyah

@mintydump

@shiiiii-okayyyy

@munsonsquinn

@tagakalat

@mirahyun

@cultish-corner

A special thank you to everyone on the taglist, i love you guys ꨄ

Please do let me know if i have forgotten you, i keep the names in my notes app so i shouldnt forget anyone but if it happens anyway i am deeply sorry

If you want to be added to the taglist, just put it in the comments, your reposts or in my asks, even if I havent answered I 100% have seen it and added you <33

Enough talking from my side though, enjoy you study date with Minho

The buzz from the creative showcase announcement still lingered around KISS like an unspoken challenge. Posters were plastered on every wall, reminding students of the looming event hosted by none other than Minho’s father—a showcase designed to highlight the best talents at the school. For most, it was an opportunity. For Minho, it was a reminder of everything he tried to avoid: expectations, vulnerability, and being seen beyond the carefully curated persona he presented to the world.

But none of that mattered right now.

Because Minho was staring at the name list posted outside his literature class, and there it was—bold and undeniable:

Group Project Partners: Minho & (Y/N)

He blinked, hoping his eyes were deceiving him. They weren’t.

“Wow,” Q’s voice broke through Minho’s silent panic, appearing over his shoulder with an amused grin. “Fate really isn’t subtle, huh?”

Dae chuckled beside him, leaning casually against the wall. “You’ll survive. Maybe.”

Minho shot them both a glare before shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s just a project. No big deal.”

But it was a big deal. Because every time he was around (Y/N), he turned into the version of himself he didn’t recognize—awkward, uncertain, and far too aware of every glance, every word, every silence. She had this way of looking at him, like she could see past the walls he’d built, and it unnerved him more than he cared to admit.

The first meeting was scheduled for the library, an attempt to maintain some semblance of professionalism. Minho arrived early—an unfamiliar habit—but he told himself it was because he wanted to pick the best table. Definitely not because he was nervous.

He chose a spot near the back, where the shelves of books created a semi-private alcove. The table was sturdy, the chairs comfortable, and the lighting just bright enough to work without being harsh. He set his bag down, pulled out his notebook, and tried to focus on the assignment sheet. But his mind kept drifting, replaying every interaction he’d ever had with (Y/N), searching for clues on how to navigate this.

When she finally arrived, balancing her laptop and a stack of books, she gave him a polite nod. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Minho replied, sitting up straighter than necessary. He gestured to the chair across from him. “I figured this spot would be quiet enough.”

“Good call,” she said, sliding into the seat and setting her things down. She opened her laptop, the soft glow of the screen illuminating her face as she pulled up their assignment. “So, any ideas?”

Minho scrambled to focus. “Uh, yeah. Maybe we could… compare themes? Like, how the author explores identity or something.”

(Y/N) glanced at him, her expression neutral. “That’s vague.”

“Well, it’s a start,” he muttered defensively, crossing his arms over his chest.

She sighed softly, but there was no malice in it. “Okay. Let’s break it down.”

They worked in relative silence, punctuated by occasional questions and the awkward brush of hands when they reached for the same notebook. Minho tried to ignore the way his heart raced at the brief contact, the way her proximity made it hard to think straight. He wasn’t used to feeling this off-balance, and it frustrated him.

But the real shift happened two hours in.

Minho leaned back in his chair, frustrated with a section they couldn’t seem to crack. “This is pointless.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, not looking up from her notes. “The project or your attitude?”

He shot her a look, but there was a flicker of amusement in her eyes that disarmed him. “Both,” he admitted grudgingly.

She set her pen down and tilted her head, studying him. “Why do you always act like nothing bothers you?”

The question caught him off guard. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve got this… façade,” she said, gesturing vaguely. “Like you’ve got everything figured out. But clearly, you don’t.”

Minho’s jaw tightened. “And you think you’ve got me all figured out?”

She shrugged. “No. But you make it pretty easy to see through the act.”

The words stung more than he expected because they were true. He looked away, his fingers tapping restlessly against the edge of the table. Before he could respond, her phone buzzed. She glanced at it briefly, then stood. “I need a break. Coffee?”

Minho hesitated, then stood too. “Yeah. Sure.”

The café near campus was quiet. They sat by the glass, sipping their drinks, the tension from earlier lingering like static. Minho stirred his coffee absently, watching the steam rise in delicate swirls.

“I didn’t mean to hit a nerve,” (Y/N) said eventually, her voice soft. She stirred her own drink, her gaze fixed on the swirling liquid.

Minho stared at his cup. “I’m just used to people assuming things about me, especially because my parents, well, mostly my father, aren't, well.."

He gets quieter with every word, his expression almost showing the hate he has for himself for even mentioning it, or hatred for his father, it was hard for (Y/N) to tell.

"I don’t usually care, but…”

She knew he wasn't going to continue on with the story about his parents, but (Y/N) let him, knowing that if he wanted to, he will bring it up again when he is ready to tell her.

“But?” she prompted gently, her eyes lifting to meet his.

“But you’re not ‘people,’” he admitted, his voice quieter than he intended.

She blinked, clearly not expecting that. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Well, that’s vague.”

Minho laughed softly, the tension easing slightly. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“You’re not as complicated as you think, Minho,” she added, her gaze steady.

And just like that, the air shifted again.

That night, back in his dorm, Minho couldn’t shake the conversation. He sat at his desk, staring at his phone, his thumb hovering over the anonymous blog app.

Dae was scrolling on his phone, and Q was fiddling with his headphones, oblivious to Minho’s internal turmoil. Without overthinking, Minho typed:

“How do you stop caring about what someone thinks of you when they see through you so easily? Asking for a friend.”

He hit send before he could regret it, then tossed his phone aside, burying his face in his hands.

The next project meeting was different.

They worked in her dorm this time, Kitty buzzing around briefly before leaving with a sly, knowing grin. Minho tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the papers spread across the floor. For whatever reason, (Y/N), decided to dress up. Not that it mattered, in Minho's Eyes, she, for whatever reason, wasnt physically capable of ever looking bad anyway. She always looked… effortless.

“Do you ever write just for yourself?” Minho asked suddenly, surprising even himself.

She glanced up, her brow furrowing slightly. Minho wondered what that look was about, but decided not to question it for now

“Sometimes. Why?”

“Just curious.”

She hesitated, then reached for a notebook tucked under a pile of papers. “I guess writing helps me make sense of things. Even if no one reads it.”

Minho nodded, understanding more than he wanted to admit. “Yeah. I get that.”

After a pause, she added softly, “It’s scary, though. Being honest on paper.”

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “But it’s scarier being honest out loud.”

Their eyes met, something unspoken passing between them. For a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them, the weight of their shared vulnerability hanging in the air.

"I..", Minho hesitated, his eyes flicking between hers and the wall behind her.

The Room was dim, light enough to see the papers, but dark enough to hide (Y/N)'s quick glance at the subtle twitch in Minho's jaw.

Which is exactly why her next movement caught him so off-guard.

She lifted her hand, placing it on his cheek and softly caressing his jawline with her thumb.

Minho was used to romantic affection and the touches that came with it, with this many people wanting to get atleast a part of you it was like a handshake at best, at least thats what he would usually think.

But this was...something else entirely.

His eyes went wide, looking at her without even attempting to hide it.

She chuckled, giving him a smile before leaning close to him, his eyes quickly switching from her eyes to her lips, only to repeat the same motion.

To his dissatisfaction, she only wrapped her arms around him tightly, rubbing small circles into his back. He hugged her back just as tight, without thinking about it at all

Minho was uncertain, but they almost felt heart shaped. Whether that was just his imagination, or reality, he didnt dare to ponder about it further.

She let go of him, resorting to only grabbing his hand and giving in three subtle squeezes.

Before either of them could break the moment by saying anything, Kitty burst through the door, dramatically complaining about Yuri, effectively shattering the tension.

But it didn’t matter.

Because the only thing he could think about, was how she didnt move her hand, not even by an inch, and to him, it felt like a promise.

#x reader #xo kitty #xo kitty dae #xo kitty minho #xo kitty minho x reader #xo kitty q #xo kitty season 2 #xo kitty yuri #minho moon

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kithtaehyung · 2 years ago

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seven days (m) (teaser) | jjk

POSTED HERE JULY 22ND, 2023!! upcoming series: seven days (m) pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x reader(f) genre/rating: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; roommates to lovers au summary: you dump yet another guy that wasn’t up to your “ten day standards,” which leaves your cocky ass, very off-limits roommate to tease your single status yet again. but the teasing is always expected. what’s not expected, is the bet that you make without thinking. the bet that even though you give ten days, he wouldn’t even last seven. warnings: cursing, alcohol/vape mentions, parties, he wears glasses sometimes😔👍, chains bc it’s tradition atp lmaooo, cocky!jk, feelings🤕, big big big jk, flirty!jk, baddie!reader😌, multiple explicit scenes🫠, jk constantly in grey sweatpants and nothing else :))), full lists to be revealed each chapter! notes: …so this song called seven dropped and— notes 2: but really there was a fic that had been in the wips for a minute, and i just so happened to have a burst of energy to expand on it so here we are! making it a series to allow myself time to dedicate meaningful energy to each scene and not rush them💕 est. chapters: prologue | mon | tue | wed | thurs | fri | sat | sun | seven days est. running dates: july-september 2023 taglist: sign up here (i check every entry so read the rules!) teaser: below the cut if you want a taste 🩵

—

“Sure did,” Jungkook puffs before stepping away, taking all the tight space with him and letting you breathe again. “But all I’m saying is, you gotta lower your standards or—”

“No.”

“Or,” he continues, giving you a look, “Not complain if they’re too high.”

“Well, thank you.” With your nose grazing the sky, you point out, “I’d like to think they’re just right.”

“What even are they anyway? All you’ve said is something about ten days.”

“That’s basically it,” you murmur, resting your arms on the island as to not have your chest in full view. “If I still like someone after ten days, I know I’d be fine dating them for real.”

There’s silence when you finish. When you finally look, the gawk you’re getting in return almost makes you laugh. “What?”

“You mean those days are only a trial run?”

You do break into laughter this time, burying your face in slight shyness. “And what about it!”

“Are you serious—?” Jungkook rounds the island so that he can speak directly at your hidden features. “Has anyone even gotten past all ten with you?”

You pause, breath fanning the granite top beneath you and wisping around your face. When you lift your gaze above your arms, you keep it trained on the countertop instead of his curiosity,

“No.”

He doesn’t say a word.

“Not since my standards changed.”

And you think that’s the end of this conversation. Because what else is there to say? You know your expectations are impossible but you think this is a hell of a lot better than—

“I could do it.”

“What.” A glare is shot. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“You? No.” You shake your head. “You wouldn’t even last seven.”

“Try me,” he challenges, and you still can’t take him seriously despite the fire in his eyes. “I’ve lasted a lot more than that as your roommate, right?”

“But that’s—this is—this is different! Be for real, Kook.” You vacate the island and head to your room, having enough of his teasing for one morning.

But you get stopped at the doorway, a bare chest and chains blocking your vision and sending your mind into a frenzy. When you flick your gaze to his face, he simply says, with the straightest expression,

“I am.”

tbc. :))

🦋 soooo how do we feel !! | wanna be tagged? 🩵

a/n: yeah idk what happened to me. one moment i was saying i wasn't gonna get bitten by the seven bug, and the next.. well. this happened lol. anyway! taglist is on a form so that i can easily keep track of who to tag. pls make sure to either tell me ur age in the survey or to have it on your blog bc i check all entries when tagging. prologue is already written and will be up soon! ++ ⇥ masterlist

#bts fic #bts imagines #bts reactions #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts smut #*ryenfictalk #ryenwrites #*latest #teasers #bts fanfic #jjk fic #7days

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wings-of-ink · 2 months ago

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Checking in - Author Updates - Quick Poll

Hello all! I hope you are all doing well!

I wanted to check-in. I don't have a ton to say on development, just wanted to keep you in the loop on where I am at personally since it tends to affect production speed. I also have a question for you at the bottom.

As I've posted about before, this year has brought about some challenges for me. There aren't a ton of good developments on that front, and my job is being...difficult. The (technical) good news is that I am still employed, but some days I wish I weren't. (I'd much rather be writing IFs, lol.) There is still uncertainty about the future of my job because it is at the mercy of the whims of my government. But what is more pressing currently is that my employer has opted to treat its employees worse (let me tell you, this is a feat because they've never really treated us well), by making our lives and jobs harder. I've made some "worst-case scenario" plans to prepare, so I'm just getting by one day at a time. Oh...and I also have needed to work overtime again, so that's another time suck there. Ugh. In May, I'm taking a couple days of off for me to rest.

In more recent news, I am doing physical therapy...yippy! In recent months I have struggled with my right shoulder. I assumed it was one of those "you're in your late 30s" pains, and I just dealt with it. Don't do that, by the way. I have a very bad habit of just doing with little regard for pain and discomfort. But, it got difficult to hug without pain, and nothing messes with my huggin'. We really don't know what is wrong with my shoulder/arm, but I'm doing virtual (oooh shiny) PT (not the Silent Hill variety) to hopefully correct the issue. If I don't see results, I will need expensive tests and scans. No worries currently, though, I don't think this will slow me down much at all. I can still write and I don't experience any discomfort when I do.

I'm also still working on a coding class, which is self-paced, but I'm sticking to a lesson schedule to make sure I get it done. I would really love to be able to make improvements of my own to GC or even make my own Twine Template someday.

So, in more fun development news, Chapter 6 is growing steadily. And so is Chapter 5, technically. If you missed it, check out this Tumblr ask where I talk a bit about that. The ask and answer contain some slight spoilers for Ch 5 & 6, but nothing too specific.

Chapter 5 is up by a bit over 1500 words, if you're curious, and Chapter 6 is up to over 69k words. I am wrapping up a big moment for Zahn, which might be a bit heavy. After that, there's a more fun moment, which will present a few coding challenges for me, but I'm looking forward to it. *rubs hands together like housefly*

Finally, I have a question for subscribers or those who may want to sub in the future. I find myself wondering what else to post about at times. Especially when I have inordinately busy weeks, I just can't think of things that you may want to see other than peeks at the chapter. I sincerely wish I had more time to add more projects. I have so many ideas kicking around in my head...

So, I was wondering if you were interested in seeing things other than God-Cursed that I have worked on. These would be things that may or may not become much of anything later, so I wasn't sure if there would be much pull to see them (or if it would just be a cruel tease, lol). I have an incomplete IF that I did to help me learn Twine a couple of years ago. I used it to just get acquainted because I am very much a hands-on learner. It's a humorous and simple story (loosely) based on an actual time in my personal life. I have debated about finishing it. I have a couple of others as well where I was playing with a story idea to see how it felt. I also have a complete romance novel which I am slowly editing for publication.

Patreon, Ko-fi links if you want them.

So that's all for me. If anything big happens, I will let you know! ^_^

Take care, everyone!

~Lunan

#god cursed if #twine if #just Lunan things #author ramblin

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kaylopolis · 1 year ago

Text

Alastor's Shadow (18+) - Chapter Fourteen

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power…

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

(Let me know if you want to be added to the Tag List!)

____________________________________________

Author note: Dear Hoteliers,

There is a very important message after the end of the chapter. I will repost it because I know not everyone reads the messages hidden within this post!

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Fourteen - Picking a Fight

Content Warning: MINORS DNI!!!!! Mentions of abuse, Smut (let me know if I missed any!)

Alastor was sitting in the Doomsday District when he felt his magic surge. The demon had found a half-destroyed bench to sit upon, the metal twisted upon itself from one of his previous meltdowns. With his head in his hands, Alastor sat and contemplated the past few days - days? Or had it been weeks, months, since you kissed him in Louisiana? His sense of time had no meaning anymore.

“Hello, old pal,” a voice interrupted his thoughts.

Vox stood before the Radio Demon, a slick smile on his face as he surveyed the mess with which he had found him in. That was satisfaction enough for the media demon.

Alastor ran his hands through his hair - not to fix it, but to relieve the anger itching beneath his skin. Jumping right from helplessness to anger - he was so easily riled up these days, finding it harder and harder to contain his wrath. He had thought ripping up the Doomsday District would somehow help relieve that, like a slow release of propane from a gas tank about to be set on fire but it hadn’t. He should know better, the last time you had a hold on his emotions he tried the same thing, but to no avail.

“I am not in the mood for one of our little quips today. Go on home -“

And then he felt it. The magic beneath his skin surged, his aura pulsed, only, it wasn’t his magic which emanated from his skin.

It was blue. It was your magic.

Alarm sparked panic in his chest. This wasn’t a coincidence.

“Yeah, I thought you’d say something like that,” Vox continued, completely unaware of the magic surging through Alastor’s veins.

It smelled of Jasmine.

Fuck.

The media demon flips his phone around to show a picture of you, unconscious and tied to a chair. Vox smirked at the realization growing on Alastor’s face.

He didn’t know it at the time, but Velvette had constructed two false images, including one of you.

“Checkmate,” Vox gloated. “This is how this is going to go-“

Before Vox had a chance to complete his rehearsed speech, Alastor had exploded in a wave of rage - a ball of living fire - except these flames were blue.

____________________________________________

For Alastor, everything changed the second you broke that seal. In that moment, he felt how much power you had. It radiated deep within his bones - even his soul felt it.

You carried a power so potent even Zestial would cower at your feet and - as much as Alastor hated to admit it - even he found himself unnerved around the original Overlord.

Roo. Here you were right in front of him the whole time. Raw power, hidden behind perfect teeth and red lips.

All he had to do was reach out and take it.

And then you leaned over him, had the audacity to leave yourself open. Alastor felt his body move before his mind did, his fingers itching for the handle of Velvette’s blade.

For you, you had proven you would do whatever it takes for power - Hell, you killed Eve for it. And now you had to live with the consequences. Alastor? He hadn’t crossed that line yet - he had no memories of guilt which screamed “No stop! Don’t do this!”

He had the memories of you, however.

Of annoyance.

Of desire.

Of lust.

Of fear.

Of worry.

Of happiness.

Emotions Alastor had not felt in such a long time…

So, why was it so easy to palm that blade and stab it straight into your belly?

Because Alastor was hungry. Like the cannibalistic murderer he is, Alastor has been chasing power long before he died - even so far as selling his soul for a drop more. And when you broke that seal and gave him but a taste of what ran through your veins, it pushed him past hungry, past starvation, the demon was dying and you were the only source of food for miles.

It blinded him - the power consumed his mind completely, directing him towards one prerogative - kill.

You expected this. Why? Because you did the same to Eve. Because you saw it in your father’s eyes every time he beat you.

The allure of power drowns its victim like a ship at sea in a storm.

You’ve seen that barely contained anger in Al before. The warning signs have always been there. How he tried to hold himself back when he’s around you, his demonic form slipping in and out when he sees something that he wants.

It wasn’t Alastor who sank that blade into your belly - it was the hunger for power, the Radio Demon within.

After all, who hasn’t been tempted by power and chaos?

“Absolutely beautiful,” Alastor had said.

Absolutely beautiful…

Absolutely beautiful?

Was he talking about you or the power…?

You broke the kiss. “Ha!” You laughed, the steel hilt deep in your belly. You didn’t even move, didn’t even flinch when Alastor stabbed you. “Oh, Mr. Alastor,” you sang, running your fingers through his bangs.

The demon sat back in his chair, completely confused. You’d die of shock seeing such an emotion on his face if you weren’t in the current situation the two of you had unfortunately found yourselves in.

How did Alastor phrase your deal? “A mutual agreement. We stay out of each other’s way, yet seek out the other when we can benefit equally.”

It was a verbal contract - not a written one. So, technically, the exact details weren’t drawn out. The magic was privy to the contractees’ interpretations, and magic works in funny ways.

Remember the dream the night you had your midnight meeting? Remember how Alastor attacked you and you defended yourself with your flames? Remember how it burned his clothes but didn’t hurt him.

That’s where it all began.

Anytime you had summoned your magic or Alastor had summoned his, it not only didn’t hurt you, but it empowered you.

You have stood in his static, have been enshrouded in his magic, and yet you came out unscathed. So why should a blade in his hand, hurt you? How was that any different?

You took the greatest gamble of your life, leaning over Alastor while he sat in that chair, allowing yourself to be vulnerable, knowing that there was a possibility that he could actually kill you. But you’re deal - it wasn’t just a quid-pro-quo, you help me out, I help you out. No, it was more than that…

… Alastor couldn’t harm you.

Which meant he couldn’t kill you.

And so you took the gamble.

You smirked, knowing your red lips did nothing but taunt the demon, “Quid-pro-quo,” You laughed. Grasping the blade, you slid it easily from your belly. You showed him the steel, absent of your blood. At most, the blade merely ripped your leather.

You laugh, “You shook on it.”

A huge fucking gamble, and it had paid off.

You take the blade and stab it directly into his right thigh. The demon didn’t even feel it. Batting your eyelashes, you turn your head like you sometimes see him do when asking a question, “Remember?”

Confusion turns to anger. And for the first time, you are met with a full-fledged Alastor in demonic form. The demon rips the blade from his leg and growls, his ears flattened against his head in irritation.

Oh, you were about to get the fight you have been dying for.

A tentacle wraps itself around your middle and flings you backward across the dirt. Landing on your back, you quickly jump to your feet, preparing for a possible second attack.

Alastor slowly rises from his chair, the knife slipping into his Void, and summons his microphone. He slams the cane against the ground, green sparks exploding from where it makes contact with the dirt before black tentacles emerge from his back.

The demon smiles, his lips threaded with green stitching. His sclera turn black, his antlers elongate, and prongs multiply atop his head. A green glow surrounds the Radio Demon as his body contorts in a series of cracks. Then Alastor begins to grow, the power with which he has gathered now physically represented by his size.

“Ha, ha, ha,” the demon chuckles, his laugh echoing as if through a broken radio. “Let’s begin.”

And then his tentacles lunge, the black tendrils encased in Alastor’s green static. You spin, taking flight. You fly right past the demon, weaving through his flurry of tentacles as you head for Pentagram City.

Alastor is hot on your tail the entire time, and just as you reach the edge, a tentacle wraps itself around your leg and flings you into a nearby abandoned building. Brick and metal come crashing down upon you as the building collapses, pinning you beneath it.

But it doesn’t slow you down. Summoning your blue flame, you set the rubble alight, and, like a newborn phoenix, you rise from the ashes. Only to be attacked by an army of… shadow demons?

Tiny doll-like creatures sewn together from black fabric lunge for your feet. Pulling your sword from the Void, you strike, but the blade does not cut them. Instead, they merely bounce off, like a ball hitting a baseball bat.

What the fuck are these things!?

One jumps for your leg, giggling as it attempts to sink its teeth into your flesh. Although you know it can't hurt you, you still instinctively jump out of its reach, using your wings to gain height. Luckily, the dolls can’t fly, and you watch as they jump beneath you, their arms outstretched as they lick their lips.

Cannibal dolls?

A growl warns you of Alastor’s next attack. You look up fast enough to see a literal car crash into you, the horn breaking as it slams into you. You land, the crumbled car crushing you as you roll down the street. Your wings take most of the impact, shielding your skin from the asphalt. Coming to a stop, you push yourself to your feet, the magic of the Book of Knowledge still surging through your veins. Standing, you face a demonic Alastor, his tentacles, as if legs, running down the street straight for you.

He’s made himself a target, blind with rage, drunk on the pursuit of power. It would be all too easy to summon the power you stole from Eve and turn it against the Radio Demon. You had never used it before, but there was no time like the present to learn.

Yet, as you stood, watching Alastor barrel straight for you, you hesitated.

No. Not because you couldn’t technically hurt him, but because you didn’t want to even try. Something within your chest twisted, stopping you.

You’ve been keening for a fight with him, but… but you couldn’t do it.

Instead, you stood your ground, focusing on the magic thrumming through your veins, and forced the power from the Book of Knowledge back behind its lock. The words disappeared from your skin as Alastor raised his staff.

A clang rang out as metal hit metal, your sword against his microphone. The demon was relentless, his strikes never letting up as he backed you down the street. All you could do was block, your heart not having it in you to strike back. Screams rang out as Sinners finally understood what was going on and fled in fear.

A crazed look in his eye, the demon continued to hack, his strikes sloppy, his weight thrown into every thrust. Technique-wise, he was no match for a skilled warrior such as yourself. You could have easily had him on his ass if you wanted to - but you didn’t.

A tentacle wrapped around your ankle, and as Alastor swiped at you with his staff, he pulled. You landed face first, a smack against concrete, rolling just in time to dodge the blow which was aimed directly at your face. As you rolled, you climbed to your feet and flung yourself out of reach of his next physical attack in one big beat of your wings.

The demon threw his microphone forward, just as he had done every time his tentacles came soaring for you. You readied yourself, prepared for the attack, but his tentacles remained still. The demon looked confused, so he did it again, but again, nothing happened.

He looked at his feet.

Oh, he wasn’t trying to attack you with his tentacles but with his shadow. The demon was commanding Rolf to attack you.

The shadow swirled at his feet, and frowned. Rolf actually frowned and then shook his head in refusal.

Ooooohh, and Alastor was not happy about that.

“Aaaaah!” The Radio Demon screamed as he slammed his staff down.

The ground cracked and broke in half, creating a chasm beneath your feet. You jumped just in time, but not fast enough to miss the Hellfire that was released from the earth. The green flames consumed you as you flew skyward, but, like all of Alastor’s other attacks, it did nothing to you. Soaring, you stopped as you reached the rooftops and got a better understanding of where you were.

You were on the edge of the Magne District and the Bordertown - in other words, you were blocks away from Alastor’s radio tower. As you caught sight of the iron structure, you felt that thing twist in your chest again. So many memories…

Again, the demon went after you, his tentacles propelling him to the rooftop of the building you soared over. His eye twitched, his smile constrained. And as he sent the next round of attacks your way, you felt your will to fight begin to fade. You didn’t dodge as quickly. You didn’t fly with as much vigor.

He wasn’t going to stop. Alastor wasn’t going to stop…

You’re not sure why you did it; perhaps some part of you was still holding on, but you led him right to the radio tower.

Landing on the balcony, you slipped your sword into the Void and waited as Alastor made his way up. The demon came to a stop at the other end of the landing, the lights of Pentagram City your backdrop. You put your wings away, your demon form slipping from you until you were just standing in your ripped leather gear.

There was a gleam in Alastor’s eye as he surveyed you. He thought he had you. God, he looked absolutely mad. You dodged as he swung, staying easily out of his reach as if it were a training exercise. Jesus, you could do this but not dance?

You looked into his eyes as he attacked you, seeing nothing but steel, a raging fire that had consumed him completely.

And that’s when you realized… Despite the contract you had made ensuring your safety, Alastor was still trying to kill you.

And your heart shattered. Your steps faltered, giving Alastor the opportunity to knock you to the ground. You didn’t even try to fight him as he climbed atop you, straddling your waist. The demon pulled Velvette’s blade from the Void, forgoing his microphone completely.

And you let him.

The Radio Demon held the edge to your throat, his entire body seething in anger and frustration at the object of all of his desires just out of reach. So close, yet so far.

“You want this more than you want me…” You whispered.

His mask slipped ever so slightly, his movements freezing as you spoke.

You gritted your teeth, “Fine. Alastor. You want it so badly, enough to kill me for it, then take it. Fucking, take it.”

You were so stupid. How could you think Alastor would be any different? Everyone in your life you’ve ever cared about ends up disappointing you…

“Alastor Hartfelt, I, Mikaela Morningstar, release you from our contract.”

SNAP!

The connection between you was severed.

And almost immediately, you felt warmth on your neck, the edge of the blade digging into your flesh just enough to draw golden blood. Alastor’s eyes were instantly drawn to it. The demon gasped. Something behind his gaze shifted at the realization of what you had just done.

“... And that’s when I decided she was not worthy of your death,” you repeated the words Alastor spoke to you after he saved you from Vox and Velvette, a moment in time when your death had nearly broken him. “No one was. If anyone was going to draw your last breath from these lips, it was going to be me.”

The demon met your gaze, his crazed smile faltering, the fire in his eyes sputtering.

“Make do on that promise, Radio Demon.” Your voice cracked as the tears streamed down the corners of your eyes. “You’d be doing me a fucking favor.”

A favor… because you’d rather be dead than live with the fact that Alastor would kill you for something so trivial as power.

He made you care about him. The way he rescued you from Velvette and Vox, how he dotted over you as you healed. He was killing himself with worry when you collapsed the second time. He made jambalaya from his mother’s recipe and spent hours sitting with you on this balcony, watching the City lights. He was worried when you didn’t eat, running straight to you when he heard. He kissed you as it rained, whispering promises in your ear. The demon danced with you in Mardi Gras, bought you a fucking donut, for crying out loud, and told you things about his mother that he never told anyone else.

Alastor made you fucking care about him, and now he was ripping out your heart and stabbing it with an Angelic blade - literally and metaphorically.

So yes, he’d be doing you a fucking favor because Alastor was killing you either way - slitting your throat was just the much less painful option.

You closed your eyes and waited for death…

You had taken so many lives, and yet you had never thought about your own. You never imagined how you might die because, up until recently, you didn’t know you could.

God, you didn’t know death could be this fucking painful.

Yet, you welcomed it. There was no afterlife for you to look forward to, which was a blessing. You didn’t have to live with this weight anymore, this burden of existence, of the trauma and torture you have been put through. Finally, you could just cease to be…

____________________________________________

The moment the golden blood trickled from your neck, Alastor’s mind flashed to the night you killed Val.

The demon had stalked you from the shadows, having heard the explosion all the way from the Doomsday District. He watched from the darkness as you burned Valentino from the inside out, absolutely mesmerized.

And then Velvette ran her blade across your chest, and golden liquid spewed from the wound onto the concrete. Alastor had never moved so fast in his life. In a blur, he summoned a tentacle and threw a car at Velvette and Vox, stopping them only momentarily but long enough. Then he was at your feet.

SNAP! The golden liquid disappeared, and Rolf shadowed you to the Nothing.

Alastor’s heart rammed so hard against his chest he could hear nothing else, think nothing else as he collected you in his arms. The Radio Demon had never really known true fear before, even as he died he wasn’t afraid. Such a foreign feeling… He didn’t know how to process it. It left his mind blank, his lungs devoid of air, his body aimless as he forced himself to move.

And then you were on his bed, your golden blood pouring into his red satin sheets. Rolf acted on his own, immediately taking off for Cannibal Town without Alastor even having to command him. The demon collapsed to his knees at the edge of the bed, forcing his claws to untie the dark cloak around your neck, but his damn fingers wouldn’t work! He was shaking so much…

“Oh, my stars!” Rosie melted from the floor, curlers in her hair and wrapped in a pink bathrobe. “Alastor, what is…” She caught sight of you on the bed and the Overlord in full panic next to you.

Alastor turned to her, desperation swimming in his eyes as he managed to utter two words, “Help me.”

____________________________________________

“Alastor,” Rosie set a steaming cup of tea before him - chai - but Alastor didn’t move to drink it. He couldn’t even pick up the cup. It reminded him too much of the coffee you made him, how you flavored it with chai leaves. It reminded him too much of you. Of the beautiful woman held together by nothing but thread in the next room.

Rosie lay a hand on his arm, moving slowly so as not to startle the demon. He had calmed down immensely but was still shaken up. “Tell me what happened.”

“She went after Valentino,” He swallowed dryly.

“Sweetheart, that’s not what I’m asking. I can see the destruction of the Tower from your window. I’m asking what happened to you. I’ve never seen you like that before.” The demon prodded carefully.

Rosie had asked about you before - attempting to pry information from Alastor. It’s not that she was spying on you. She didn’t need to do that. You told her everything. She wanted to know what Alastor thought of you. A matchmaker from the very beginning - from the moment you stepped foot into her Emporium and ran right into Alastor.

Alastor looked down at the cup, the leaves of tea swimming around the steaming liquid. “I don’t know. All I know is… It hurt… I hurt…”

Rosie cooed, “And why do you think that is?”

Alastor was speechless. Nothing coming to mind. He honestly didn’t understand what was happening to him. Why he was feeling the way that he was feeling. He’s never felt so utterly helpless and honestly couldn’t understand why.

“Darling, let me ask you, cannibal to cannibal, what is the most important organ in the body?” Rosie smiled, her teeth wickedly sharp.

Of course, Alastor picked the brain - so iconic and representative of his character.

Rosie giggled. “Oh no, I think my late husband is evidence enough of that. No, dear, it’s the heart. Something so vital that keeps us alive, and yet one tiny little nick and you bleed out and die. And dying hurts, let me tell you.” She shrugged, sipping her tea.

Rosie let Alastor stew on this for a moment before clearly spelling it out for the Overlord. “You are hurting because the Vees went after your heart.”

____________________________________________

CLANG!

Your eyes fluttered open to find Alastor looking back at you, tears in eyes of his own. His chin trembled as he cupped your cheeks. Alastor had dropped the blade, the steel clattering between the cracks in the balcony flooring before falling to the street below.

The demon’s forehead came to rest on your own as his demonic form receded, his green aura fading. “... a drop more might break me.” His voice shook, his words absent of his radio static, his Louisiana accent slipping through. “Rarely am I wrong about something.” He chuckled through a sob. “I just didn’t think it would be by my hand.”

“Alastor…?” You searched his eyes for an explanation.

“My darling.” A breath. “Ma cherie.” Another. “Mon couer.” Another. “My heart.”

Alastor’s eyes were glassy. “One cannot live without their heart.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

Was he saying what you think he was saying?

“You choose me?” You asked, hope sparking in your chest.

The demon smiles softly. “I choose you, mon couer. I choose you…”

You smiled as you grabbed Alastor by his shirt and pulled him in. Your mouths crashed together.

You can taste the relief on his lips, the solace evident with each swipe of his tongue. Finally, you could allow yourself to simply enjoy the taste of him. Finally, you could simply not think and only feel - no longer weighed down by the troubles plaguing your mind every time he grew close to you.

He knew your name.

He knew your secret.

He knew your power.

He knew everything.

And he had chosen you.

Nothing held the two of you back now, not emotionally or physically.

Alastor broke the kiss, already panting, his chest heaving as it matched yours, “How are your injuries?” His eyes roamed you, searching for active bleeding.

You smirked, “I’m in perfect health thanks to you,” you pulled the collar of your leather gear aside to reveal the injury Velvette gave you, the skin now pink and scarred over.

Alastor ran a finger across the mark, making you shiver beneath him.

You had much to figure out today, but it could wait.

The demon smiled, “Good,” he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I believe I made some promises to you that I intend to keep.”

Alastor dipped lower, and you gasped as his tongue connected with your skin. Alastor traced the outline of the cut on your neck. His forked tongue lapped the golden liquid, not letting a single drop escape. When his lips were wet and sweet with your blood, he leaned back far enough only for you to see his eyes, his pupils blown, “You’re mine,” he breathed.

Your body shuddered in what might have been a sob, a cry in joy as his lips found yours.

Finally. Fucking, finally.

You expected the kiss to be gentle - soft - a kiss that could take its time. After all, you had plenty of that now. But Alastor had warned you - he was not gentle. You moaned into his mouth, the iron tang of your blood on your lips as he crashed into you. The kiss was powerful, threatening to drown you in him completely.

The demon scooped you up in one fluid motion before you were shadowed into his bedroom and placed on red silk sheets.

The demon had his jacket off, never breaking your connection, before crawling up on you. The demon pushed you back, laying you out on the platter of red, his own personal feast. He pressed himself into you, one leg between your thighs, and you instinctively arched as his warmth soaked into your bones, as he hardened against you.

Alastor broke the kiss to run his tongue up your cheek, licking the golden liquid that had bled from your now-healed skin. The demon moaned, his dick throbbing in his pants in response. You took the opportunity to find the buttons of his red suit jacket, popping open the three buttons before diving into the ones on his collared shirt.

There was something so intimate about undressing him. You could - if you had wanted to - magicked the clothes away, but where was the fun in that? There were layers to Alastor’s outfit, layers you wanted to peel back one by one; it was a privilege to do so. In a way, you felt like you had earned that privilege, and you were going to take advantage of every moment of it.

Al pulled back, surveying your face. He ran a hand through your silver locks as they splayed out across his sheets, pushing it aside from your neck where bruises once decorated your skin. His eyes lit up, almost as if they were screaming, mine, all mine, before his lips found your neck.

Oh, if you thought his kisses were intense before, it was nothing compared to now. Alastor held nothing back, his canines nipping at your skin till he drew blood. The pain was a beautiful burn that made your head dizzy. His tongue licked away the gold, soothing the erotic pain pooling in your core. You gasped as his hands found your hips and tugged.

He wanted your clothes off.

SNAP!

Your leathers disappeared, leaving behind nothing but your bra and underwear. The armor didn’t have zippers or ties, it wasn’t meant to be slipped on and off, but you wanted Alastor to undress you. You wanted to feel his claws as they scraped across your skin and slid your underwear down your legs…

Alastors hand found the waistband of your underwear. The demon chuckled against your neck, after stealing a glance. “Such a naughty little thing.”

You may have changed into your favorite pair of undergarments, a dangerous matching set of silk. All in red, just for him.

Alastor bit your neck, hard, not a full on bite, but a nibble that made you gasp. You arched up into him, his knee between your thighs. With one hand thrusted into your hair, the other went to your bra, to cup the swell of your breast.

The demon had perfectly sized hands, your breasts a matching handful. You cried out as he squeezed. Goosebumps rise on your skin as the demon’s mouth travels south, his lips trailing to the swell of your breasts. His claws scraped across your skin, finding the strap of the garment and slowly lowered it over your shoulder. You arched, prompting him to slide both hands behind your back as he smiled up at you, his eyes promising to do terribly wonderful things to you.

Then your bra was off, and his mouth was on your breast, and he sucked, his tongue flicking your nipple. You plunged your fingers into his hair, wrapping them around his locks. Your finger lightly brushed his ears, and the demon growled, his mouth on your breast, his hips bucking instinctively.

Alastor pulled back despite your bark of protest - that turned into a gasp as the demon backed off the bed, wrapped his arms around your hips, and tugged. He yanked you to the edge before violently ripping off your underwear.

Your cheeks heated as Alastor kneels before you, his face mere inches from your heat as he hooks your legs over his shoulders.

He was kneeling. The all and powerful Alastor Hartfelt was on his knees for you. No one would ever believe you…

And then he sinks two fingers inside you, all the way up to his first knuckle. You cry out, your breath stuck in your throat as your nails dig into his sheets. He slides his fingers out slowly, then shoves in hard again, practically pushing you back up the bed.

“Oh, my - Al!”

Alastor cuts you off with his mouth, his tongue licking your clit and setting you on fire. Instinctively, your toes curl, and your body pulls in on itself, but Alastor’s claw digs into the meat of your hip, keeping you spread open as he thrusts his fingers in again, his mouth feasting on your juices.

Digging your nails in tighter, you swear you rip the fabric, trying to hold on.

The demon chuckles as your next gasp turns into a moan. God, it was like Alastor was punishing you, dominating you, a relentless force pent on overpowering you in every sense of the word.

You swore you'd never bow before another again, never let another command you, but for Alastor, you'd gladly fall to your knees if he asked.

The pressure was starting to build. Fuck, the last time this happened, you leveled a building.

“Alastor,” you choked out.

But the demon didn’t stop, didn’t even come up for air. Alastor pulls his fingers almost all the way out before thrusting them fully in.

“Al-”

The demon glares at you, a gleam in his eye. He wanted to push you over the edge and was not going to stop, no matter what.

Shit. Shit. Shit!

He picks up the pace, his fingers constantly roaming in and out, his mouth working in tandem quickly working you up towards your climax.

Your head is gone now, your breathes in gasps with each pump of his fingers, each swipe of his tongue. The demon bites down on your clit between his upper teeth and lower lip. A wave of pain has you teetering.

“Al!” You scream as, on the last thrust, Alastor curls his fingers, hitting that wonderful bundle of nerves that has you flying over the edge. You arch up as spasms overcome your body, as Alastor continues to pump and continues to ride you through your high.

Be damned if you burned this place to the ground. It was worth it.

Your inner walls clench around his fingers, your entire body tensing up. Heat floods through you as you pant, breathless and dizzy.

Alastor doesn’t stop until your back finds the sheets again, until your twitching has slowed, and your breathing has normalized.

This entire thing feels like a dream as Alastor stands, untucks his shirt, and takes off his belt.

“No,” you squeak out, your body and mind numb with pleasure.

Alastor freezes.

“I want to,” you practically beg, reaching out a hand.

The demon chuckles, his face in his hands.

Wait.

You sit up, your mind sobering as you whip your gaze across the room. “It’s not on fire?”

Alastor’s smile kicks up in a sideways grin, “It’s not.”

You shoot him a questioning look. You don’t know how this is happening, but you know Alastor had something to do with it. A rune? Some sort of mark in his Voodoo?

The demon answers your question with a chuckle as he climbs atop you. Alastor’s arms frame your face, his smile lighting up yours as he towers over you. His locks were like a halo of red around his face, his antlers a few prongs larger than you remember.

You’re so captivated by a half shirtless Alastor towering over you that you completely forget what you were supposed to do.

He pauses, his breath hot on your lips, “well?”

Well? Oh! Yes.

Hesitantly, your fingers find his belt as you continue what he had started. Your heart is ramming against your chest, your hands suddenly very sweaty. Get it together. He’s made you orgasm twice now. You’re sitting beneath him, in his bed, wearing nothing. Why were you so nervous?

You paused at the button of his pants.

“Al, I… I’ve never…” You met his gaze and hoped your eyes communicated the rest of what you were trying to say.

His cheeks turned pink, “We move at your pace, mon couer.”

Your heart skipped a beat. He was giving you time for your mind to catch up with the rest of you.

First, thing’s first…

You force your fingers to move again and help him slide his shirt off. And then you don’t want to stop touching him. Alastor was so soft, the short fur along his torso and arms like the down coat of a fawn. It was longer around his chest, producing a fluff you were already making plans for. To spend your night sleeping on his chest…

You traced his scars, each old and grey, marking his beautiful ashen skin. Then you found the mark over his chest, the run of Transformare just over his heart. You traced the outline of it.

“My favorite one,” he smiled.

And that gave you the bravery to continue on. You shot up, your lips crashing into his as your fingers undid the button of his pants and began to tug down. Alastor laid you back out as he pulled off his pants and underwear in one swoop.

You gasped as the demon pressed onto you, his cock perfectly lining up with your folds. The demon ground his hips against you, coating his shaft in your juices, hitting your throbbing clit. Your mouth went dry at the sheer size of him. You wanted him, wanted every glorious inch of him in you.

And then you're drowning again as he kisses you, his thrusts harder and faster as he grinds atop you, Alastor the ocean wave which was pulling you deeper and deeper. And you gladly drowned. He rocks back on his hips, stealing the heat of his cock before he lines himself up, his tip pressing against your opening, and pauses.

He was waiting for you.

In response, you wrapped your legs around his thin waist. They sat perfectly at the crest of his hips, almost as if they were made for you, for this. The demon growled as you kissed him, and you laughed.

And then he slid in. And in. And in. Until his hips were flush with yours. Your nails dug into the muscle of his back, making the demon growl.

Jesus, he had your eyes watering; it was like your body forgot how to breathe. He stilled, letting you adjust.

“Are you alright?” Alastor was out of breath, his voice raspy and absent of static, as his forehead found yours, clearly bombarded with the same wave of emotions you had been.

You nod as you pull him down on top of you. You wanted to feel Alastor, to feel his warmth, to feel his chest heaving against yours, to feel the muscles in his abbs as he thrusts into you. You have been starved for touch for so long that you have become desperate - desperate and greedy.

The demon moved slowly, pulling out slightly before pressing back in. His hips stuttered, “Satan,” he choked. “You’re tight.”

Again, he pulled back, then thrust in. The demon fisted one hand in your hair, the other coming to rest behind your thigh, giving himself leverage as he moved.

And as Alastor moved, his forehead on yours as you kissed, your breath building as you huffed through your noses, it became easier. It became pleasurable. It became faster, deeper.

It made you hungry for more.

“Fuck me,” you breathe between moans. “Fuck me, Alastor.”

A fire sparks in his eyes as his hands sink to your ass. The demon has your legs wrapped around him, and off the bed, your back pressed against the wood head rest as he fills you. Every inch, every hard ridge. Alastor’s teeth find your bottom lip, and he bites down as he slams into you with enough force, that the bed shakes.

Your moan is on the edge of a scream as blood fills your mouth. Alastor’s tongue laps at your lips, at your tongue, devouring the tangy liquid flooding your mouth and dribbling down your chin. The cannibal is determined not to waste a single drop as he feasts. You wrap your arms around his neck and hang on for dear life, your nails digging into his skin, just exciting him even more.

There is nothing gentle about the Radio Demon - no wonder he wanted to wait, no wonder he held himself back all those nights ago. He surely would have split you in two had you begged him to try.

But it would have been so worth it.

Your veins sang beneath your skin with the build of your climax, your heart beating in time with Alastor’s.

The demon released a hand to find your clit, circling as he thrusts. Immediately, you’re toeing the edge, your moans choked screams, as Alastor picks up the pace, sweat licking your bodies.

Alastor’s claws dig into the meat of your hip as pulls you down on him with every thrust, as he buries himself over and over again, the tip of his cock brushing the entrance of your cervix. You’re there, you’re at the edge…

“I’m close!” You breathe, every edge of you burning with pleasure. You’re so wet, you’re dripping down his balls as he sinks into you.

Not yet. No. You want to linger. You want to savor this. Every second of it.

And then Alastor’s lips find your neck, and he bites. The pain sends you over the edge, and you scream as the orgasm tears through your body. Alastor continues to pound into you, hard and fast, drawing out your pleasure. The demon grows harder, more frenzied with his movements, and then he’s roaring as he slams into you to the hilt, spilling inside you.

Alastor growls as his dick throbs against your clenching inner walls, milking him of every last drop. And then Alastor slows as he collapses into you, his head resting on your shoulder as he slowly thrusts in and out, his body spasming with pleasure.

And then there is silence, interrupted only by your panting breaths.

When your souls finally return to your bodies, you take Alastor’s face in yours. The dreamy, drunk look on his face has your heart soaring. No one has ever seen Alastor like that. You’ve earned the privilege to see him like this.

Alastor rocks in and out of you in slow, languid thrusts, like he’s savoring the feeling of you wrapped around him.

“Mon couer,” he breathes before he kisses you, long and slow.

You giggle, just as high as him, “mine.”

The demon freezes, giving you a look as if he didn’t hear you right.

“I choose you, too, Alastor. You’re mine.” You beam before kissing him. His mouth is unmoving for a second before he kisses you back. The demon digs his hips into you, sinking his head in till it hits your cervix - you swear to God!

The demon lays you back down on the bed.

“I’m yours,” he smiles against your lips, and then he swallows your gasp as he thrusts again. “I’m yours, mon couer, only yours.”

Alastor’s mouth trails down your jaw, across the bruises forming on your throat. You moan when his tongue finds the bite, the mark he used to claim you, the soreness that now represents everything. The demon uses his tongue to outline the mark, the golden blood now clotting.

With the taste of you on his lips, the demon was growing hard again, his dick throbbing inside of you as he stroked slowly.

This time is different. This time Alastor is slow, his fingers bunching in your hair but not tearing, his lips kissing you deeply, his mouth drunk on your taste. You breathed Alastor in as your tongue lazily played with his, as your hips moved in time with his strokes.

This wasn’t just him claiming you. This was Alastor promising you. This was him pledging to be yours and only yours, to be all the things he was scared of being, to devote his very being in honor of you.

And you could feel it. You could feel his growing desire. It wasn’t just in the pounding of his heart or the way his breath quickened as it mixed with yours but somehow sank into your bones.

If your magic could be summoned as it had whenever Alastor’s lips were on yours, the colors of your magic would be singing right now. Their masterpiece a demonstration of the vow he was making you.

You let your hands wander over every hard ridge of him. Outlining his pecs, the defined abbs on his torso, the strength in his shoulders. To his cut jawline and soft hair. You played with his locks as Alastor continued to thrust in you, your quick breaths turning to moans.

It was slow, it was passionate, it was intense.

Alastor breaks the kiss to decorate your neck, marking his territory, the bruises proof that this was real. Your gaze falls to where the two of you are connected, his shaft pulling away with both of your juices, turning his dick white with cum.

Oh, God the way he filled you with his cum…

You clench around him at the memory of the feeling, making the demon’s hips stutter, eliciting a growl that vibrates from his chest through yours.

You can’t help but smile as you kiss him. The power you had over him, over his body…

Alastor responds by thrusting harder.

CRACK!

The bed breaks, and the next thing you know, the two of you are rolling off the side. Alastor takes the brunt of the fall, pulling you into him as his back smacks against the wooden floor.

“Al, are you -?”

The demon interrupts your question with a laugh. It was so genuine and absent of his usual radio static that it catches you off guard before you’re laughing right along with him.

And then the two of you realize something: you were on top.

You blink at each other a moment, registering what this means, but Alastor doesn’t make an attempt to move you. Instead, he grabs your hips and guides you up and down his cock. It’s awkward at first - you’ve literally never done this before - but you eventually find a rhythm that has the two of you moaning all over again.

Regardless of the position, Alastor was still in control, which was a relief - your lack of experience was frankly embarrassing.

You dig your fingers into his fluff, using it as leverage as you bounce up and down. You can feel the wetness pooling out of you and dribbling down his cock.

From this position you could fully appreciate Alastor, disheveled and overwhelmed by you. His chest is heaving, his hips bucking up into you, deepening the muscles on his torso.

God, it was a beautiful sight.

The demon reaches up and wraps his fist in your hair before using it to pull your lips down to his. His claws dig into your other hip as his thrusts quicken, as he pounds into you.

And then he’s spilling into you all over again, his warm seed filling you and then sliding down his cock. The orgasm surprises you, overtaking your body without warning.

God, the feeling of being filled was enough to drive you over the edge.

You collapsed on Alastor, your face in the fluff of his chest as he thrust, your orgasm milking every ounce of his seed.

And when his hips finally slowed, Alastor collapsed fully, his hands coming to rest in your hair and on your back. The two of you lay there for a long time, not minding the mess you had just made, your minds and bodies too numb to fully comprehend anything but the aftershock of pleasure.

You breathed him in, letting his scent of forest and musk prolong your ecstasy. The room danced in the flavor of warm vanilla, evidence of what you had just done wafting out the slightly ajar back door. The curtains were down, so no one could see in.

When Alastor somehow found the ability to move again, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Mon couer?”

“Hmm?” You hummed, dreamily snaking your head up to meet his half-lidded gaze through your curtain of hair. You were sleepy and oh-so-content. You could fall asleep right there on the floor and sleep for days if he let you.

“How about a bath?” As if on cue, the sound of a faucet turning creaked from the bathroom. Running water could be heard echoing through the tile walls.

You giggled, nodding.

Slowly, Alastor pulled out of you. You whimpered at the sudden empty feeling, the loss of warmth that was purely Alastor filling your core. It was a feeling you were instantly missing.

The demon carried you to the tub, now steaming and filled with bubbles. He gently sat you in before climbing in behind you, letting you lay against him as he washed you.

The fluff on his chest was like a pillow as you lay there, drowning in the scent of his shampoo. It was like being on sensory overload, except the only sense was Alastor.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Alastor took his time massaging your limbs, easing the tension from your muscles. He inspected every healed cut and new scar he had never seen before until he was satisfied that you were fine and really and truly in one piece. He even took the time to wash your hair, his claws scraping against your scalp as he scrubbed. You hummed in delight, bringing a genuine smile to Alastor’s face.

The wash was more cathartic for Alastor than it was for you. For him, he needed this. After you almost died, he needed to see you be strong again. He needed to see you at your highest before he could heal from seeing you at your lowest. And, as if to solidify it in his brain that this wasn’t a dream, and you were really and truly alive, he needed to inspect you himself - and he also did get satisfaction at seeing the new marks which he had left on your body. The slowly darkening bruises and bites he had left behind…

The narcissist…

When he finished with you, he washed himself. You were practically asleep when he finished - although he did do his best not to disturb you as much as he could. The demon slowly slid out from behind you to grab you a towel. It took some coaxing, but he finally got you to stand on your own as he wrapped you in the soft cotton.

When you returned to bed, you found it perfectly made, with fresh sheets and fluffed pillows. The foot on his bed frame had snapped during your endeavors, but Alastor had it repaired while you bathed. You’d sleep soundly in a level bed tonight.

Soft jazz clicked on as Alastor tucked you in before sliding in himself. You curled into the demon, who had crawled into bed with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, immediately seeking his warmth.

Alastor rarely slept, but today was an exception…

With your head on his chest, your feet tangled in his, and his arms wrapped around you, you felt complete.

And the two of you dozed off into slumber to the words of Nat King Cole’s “Unforgettable.”

Okay, Hoteliers, why did I do this? Why not have Alastor never attack Mikaela in the first place? Why didn’t he just drop the knife and kiss her, and then I write a chapter filled with some seriously overdo smut? Because there was still one thing about Alastor that had not been challenged yet - in the fanfic and in canon. Yes, Alastor had fallen for the reader, but there was still this giant thing hanging over their heads that they did not address, which needed to be hit upon in order for the two of them to finally accept their feelings for each other. What would Alastor do if something/someone he loved more than power stood in the way of him achieving it? You, as Mikaela, already made that decision when you killed Eve - you’d do anything. Yet, deep down, you knew you couldn’t do it to Alastor - you, as the reader, had decided that without me even having to write it. You were literally screaming in the comments about it as you read chapter thirteen.

Yet Alastor had never been asked that question. So we needed to see what he would do. Given the opportunity, he needed to be forced to choose, and he needed to see that that choice would have consequences. That's why I needed Alastor to stab you, to go after you, to draw blood. Why go to such lengths? Because Alastor is a stubborn, stubborn man, and changing him would not be an easy thing to do, especially when it is something so central to his character. I mean, he's a cannibalistic murderer; how much more literal does Viv need to get about his desire to consume power? Being forced to choose was not only about you but about him as well. In the writing business, we call it ~character development~.

So no, I couldn't simply have Alastor drop the knife and whisk you away into a fairytale. This moment, this part of Alastor, posed an obstacle for me: a giant wall preventing me from continuing on. I needed Alastor to grow, to unlock that part of himself that let you in, choose you over everything else, and for him to accept that.

Don't worry, we still have more to go - they still have to learn why they are both at the Hotel, what their involvements are with Lilith, and what Mikaela’s big endgame actually is, but that stuff is trivial compared to their cannibalistic desire for power - especially considering Mikaela is Roo, the embodiment of it. I mean, that’s how this fanfic all started, right? “Power is of two kinds. One is obtained by the fear of punishment and the other by acts of love. Power based on love is a thousand times more effective and permanent than the one derived from fear…” And I think it’s important to remember that because it will be a theme through to the end of this fic.

<3 Stay smutty Hoteliers - smut is coming next chapter. You’ve earned it ;)

-> Chapter Fifteen

Tagged Hoteliers (Let me know if you want to be added!):

@sirens-and-moonflowers @wonderlandangelsposts @saccharine-nectarine @mommymilkers0526 @goyablogsstuff

@eris-norwega @missgirlsstuff @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog @sillywormtrixareforkids @its-a-dam-blue-brick

@cloverresin20 @blue-bird251 @speedycoffeedelight @littlebluefishtail @saw1987

@mopeyghost @beelz3bub @fraugwinska @minamilinaqueen @demoarah

@diffidentphantom @divineknightmare @animecrazy76 @sleepykittycx @graunta

@reath-solia @satansdaughter123 @mysticatto @freshonyourpages

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lily-fics-11 · 1 year ago

Text

I Can See You: Chapter 1 (Ellie Williams, TLOU)

I Can See You

Fic master post here

*Not beta read

Ellie Williams is a player, on and off the lacrosse field. You begin tutoring her so that she can get her grades up and stay on the team. You try to keep things professional, however, your affection is a great motivator. Ellie wouldn't be caught dead with you so you become her secret mission.

Chapter 1

You’ve started tutoring Ellie and things don’t go as expected. She’s trying to convince you to kiss her to keep her doing her work. But not to kiss and tell.

Word count: 2.4k

CW: No use of y/n, profanities, *Ellie and reader are both 18*

The first time you kissed Ellie Williams was right in the middle of your 3rd tutoring session during the first week of March.

She is the star of the girl's lacrosse team and they threatened to bench her if she didn’t improve her grades.

Truth be told, Ellie has far greater academic aptitude than you expected. However, she spends most of her time in class flirting with the popular girls and cracking jokes instead of paying attention.

All you really have to do is go over the material and make sure she pays attention. Once she actually got to work, she would fly through everything, but keeping her focused was a far greater challenge than you had anticipated

The first meeting Ellie told you all about lacrosse, and you wouldn’t understand what she was talking about even if you wanted to. “You won’t get to play lacrosse if you don’t get any work done,” you reminded her.

The second meeting you found out that Ellie is secretly a nerd, when she ranted about comic books. You had brought it up and it turns out you like some of the same ones. Ellie couldn't contain herself, but she made you swear not to tell anyone about it.

Meeting three was when Ellie found out how to keep you distracted. She noticed the little pride pin on your backpack and started using her charm on you.

You meet 2 times a class cycle because you were helping her with calculus and English on A days and chem and Spanish on C. You both have the same study hall so they assigned you to her. Can’t take away from the superstar’s practice time after school.

“That rainbow pin on your bag,” Ellie smirks. “Are you…?”

“Rainbow in a women are hot way? Yes, I’ve been out for a while, so I thought everyone knew. I guess it’s only the people who pay attention.”

“I pay attention!” She actually looks offended.

You sigh. “To cheerleaders, in short skirts. And popular girls in expensive clothes. Any girl with a couple thousand followers on Instagram.” Although you suspect that there is more to Ellie than there seems to be, there is no ignoring her taste in women.

“Not very feminist of you, judging those girls, I see that pin too.” She shakes her head in sarcastic disapproval.

“I would never judge anyone for anything like that. I admire anyone who is brave enough to express themselves in the way they want to. I’m judging you. For having such a narrow gaze.” Your smile is so sickeningly sweet it could rot her teeth.

Ellie’s jaw drops, she really thought she had you there. “Come on now, I pay attention to all sorts of girls.”

You cover your face with your hands. “All right then, you’ve spent enough time sitting across from me, what color are my eyes, Ellie?”

“I… uh…” she stutters, at a loss for words.

You uncover your face and comically bulge your eyes.

Ellie raises her eyebrows and nods. “Now that I see them, that is exactly the color I was going to say.”

“Bull shit.”

“Fine,” Ellie rolls her eyes, “ask me another question. If I get it wrong you will get 15 minutes of uninterrupted work from me.”

“What’s my last name?”

“That’s easy… you sit next to Carly in calculus, so your last name must start with R or S.”

You cut her off before she can continue, you'd be here all day. “I’ll stop you right there. We are not in the same calculus class.”

She purses her lips and squints her eyes. “Then why are you tutoring me in calculus?”

“Well, I am in honors, so I’m a year ahead. I got an A in it last year.”

Ellie scratches the back of her head. “That does actually make sense.”

You slide a worksheet over to her. “How about we start that uninterrupted work.”

She doesn’t even look down at the pieces of paper.

“Just one more question? If I get it wrong, I will shut up for the rest of the period.”

She leans forward and gives you a charming smile, which you ignore to the best of your ability.

“I love watching you bet against yourself,” you admit, leaning back in your chair with a smirk.

“I’m not done. If I get it right…” mischief flickers in those enchanting green eyes. “… I get a kiss.”

Her smile would melt most girls' hearts, and you are no exception. You’d be lying if you said you’ve never watched her walk down the hallway before. Ellie swaggers through the crowds, that part for her like the red sea, with a shit eating grin and her chin turned up. She’s drop dead gorgeous, and her gravitational field is strong, all eyes are always on her. The girl practically oozes charisma.

But you know how to play it cool.

“A kiss? Seriously? That’s what you want?” You scoff, though you certainly wouldn't’ mind.

“Yeah.” She says as if it’s obvious.

“Why?” You are very suspicious. “I don’t fit any of your criteria.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Ellie leans over and rests her elbows on the table, folds her hands together. “Now that I’m paying attention, your eyes are really pretty.”

“You’re fucking with me, Williams,” you huff, annoyed by her wasting your time.

She smirks at you. “I’m serious. You’re actually way prettier than half the girls I’ve hooked up with.

“I’m so flattered.” You say sarcastically and start to organize the things spread out on the table.

“I’m being serious!” She says and playfully slams her hands down on the table.

“Only half?” You chuckle.

“I just… I… I guess not.” That makes your eyebrows raise and your nose scrunch in disgust. You run your tongue along the inside of your mouth.

“Actually, more than most.,.” Ellie stutters, her eyes darting around.

You cross your arms over your chest and bite back a smile. “What’s my favorite song?”

“What’s your favorite song?” She echos back.

“Guess it right and you can have a kiss.”

You’ve never seen Ellie concentrate so hard. You can only assume that this is her game day face.

“Its… it’s…” and she guesses… correctly?

You gasp, totally flabbergasted. “How the hell did you know that?”

She looks like she just won jeopardy. “You requested it in gym the other day.”

You blink rapidly in shock. “And you remembered?”

Ellie sits back and crosses her arms confidently. “Believe it or not we have a similar taste in music”

“You’re right. I don’t believe it.”

“Either way, I still won my prize,” she winks at you.

“Prize? Oh, yeah,” you laugh and roll your eyes.

You lean over and give her a quick peck on the lips

She looks disgusted.

If looks could kill Ellie Williams would have been slaughtered right there in the school library.

“Fucking hell, am I really that bad of a kisser?”

She squints her eyes and shakes her head no. “I wouldn’t know, that wasn’t a real kiss.” You run your hand through your hair. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Ellie looks deep into your eyes, like she’s staring right at your soul, and licks her lips. She slowly moves her hand to your face and cups your chin. She tilts your face up and smirks before pulling your lips into hers. Ellie does not hold back.

Though you’ve never kissed each other before, it feels like you’ve kissed a thousand times. You don’t have to find a rhythm; you just fall in sync. Something about the way she tastes is so familiar. Who were you to deny yourself a good kiss with an attractive girl?

Ellie pulls away but leaves her hand on your chin. “That is a kiss.”

You lightly grab her by the wrist and place her hand on the table. “You still owe me 15 minutes of work.”

Ellie fake pouts. “Is that all you have to say to me? Was that not the best kiss of your life?”

Your palm meets your forehead. “You really are full of yourself. It’s time to get this stuff done.”

“All I’ll say is that maybe this could be a method of keeping me motivated.”

“You’re ridiculous!”

She’s got a wide grin on her face; she’s waiting to prove you wrong. “You say that now, but I’m sure you’ll find yourself offering up bigger and bigger prizes, and not just to shut me up. But let’s keep this between us.”

It’s your next meeting and you are supposed to work on her chem homework and edit her English essay.

“How about we work on your essay first?”

She nods and opens her notebook… to an empty page. She looks over at you expectantly and you gesture at it with confusion.

“That doesn’t look like an essay to me,” you sigh.

“I just wasn’t feeling motivated. So, I thought maybe, just maybe, you could kiss me after every paragraph. It would help me write.” Ellie licks her lips and tries to seduce you with her alluring eyes.

“I think it’s best, for the both of us, to keep things professional.”

“Not best for me, it’s a proven method!” She exclaims as if it’s obvious.

“You’d have to run the experiment more than once to prove something.”

“Fine, you can be the x axis and I can be the y axis.”

You fold your hands together. “I’m proud of you for that even if it doesn’t make sense. Do you know how many people have caught feelings for me while I tutor them?”

“First of all, I don’t catch feelings. Second of all, it can't be that many.

“Underestimating is a dangerous game, Williams, a star athlete like you know that. 4 of 7 straight guys, 2 of 2 queer girls and 1 of 4 straight girls.

Ellie brings her hand to her chin and nods in approval. “I have to say, I’m impressed. Game recognizes game. That’s why you don’t have to worry about me catching feelings.”

“We can use that as a last resort. Can we please try and be professional?” You are borderline begging her.

“Ughhhhh,” she groans and pouts her lips, trying to get you to look at them. You can neither confirm nor deny that it worked.

“I don’t care who you are, Ellie, you won’t be getting any special treatment from me.”

“We will see about that.”

Ellie was surprisingly cooperative while you outlined the essay theme. She even stayed focused while writing the intro.

But while working on the outlines for the body paragraphs she would hit you with a pickup line as often as she could. Somehow, she knew exactly where the sweet spot was, enough to satisfy herself, but not too many that you would get fed up with her and tell her to stop.

“I finished the intro, how about we work on the intro of me and you?”

“I think this paragraph proves I know how to handle a beautiful body.”

Ellie kept holding the eraser side of the pencil to her lips and glancing over to see if it had you looking where she wanted you to. It's painful to admit, but you couldn’t look away.

After mapping out all of the paragraphs you switch over to chemistry.

“Let’s go over the basics for this topic. What can you tell me about entropy without looking at your notes?” You ask her this very hesitantly, you don’t want to put too much pressure on her.

“Chaos and disorder.” Ellie smiles like an evil villain, as if those are her two favorite things.

You give her a nod of approval. “That’s a good start, do you remember how the amount of disorder correlates to the amount of entropy?”

Her face scrunches up while she thinks. “More disorder is more entropy.”

“Perfect.” That puts a devilish grin on Ellie’s face. “If you kissed me I would have less entropy.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, I'm sure you would.” You are completely monotone. “If the reaction is positive do the reactants or the products have higher entropy.”

Ellie straightens up her posture. “The products. So, if kissing was the product there may be a lot of entropy, but it would also be positive.”

“Ellie, if you found some internal motivation you would excel. Not just pass these classes and be able to play lacrosse but do really well. You are smart and I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.” You made sure that your tone was soft and reassuring. You really mean it and don’t want to sound condescending.

If you didn’t know any better, you would say that Ellie was on the verge of tearing up. “Really?”

“Yes of course.”

“Nobody ever expects more of me than playing well in lacrosse.” She’s looking anywhere but at you and playing with the pencil in her hand.

“I don’t know you well, but I can tell there is much more to you.”

Ellie looks so lost. “Of course,” she mutters. “I seduce every girl I see.”

That is absolutely not what you meant, even if it had been in the back of your mind.

You softly give Ellie your opinion on the situation, whether it’s your place or not. This girl obviously doesn’t talk about things like this very much and you want her to know it’s ok to be vulnerable and communicate.

“If the way you are with me is any indication of the way you are with other girls, and I don’t want to step out of line here- but I feel like you can handle honesty- it’s a defense mechanism. Deflection specifically.”

Ellie’s eyes shoot wide open and her jaw drops. “Fuck! You are smart.”

You shake your head and smile. “I wouldn’t say that makes me smart, I’m just not shallow like everyone else in this godforsaken town.”

Ellie leans back in her chair so far that it looks like it’s about to tip over. She is staring up at the ceiling when she mumbles. “I think you’re the only one.”

“I don’t think you are either; I think you pretend to be. In order to survive.”

“What are you, some sort of therapist?”

“I’d be lying if I said I haven’t spent hours researching this type of thing because I find it interesting.”

“You can’t tell anyone about this.”

“Under one condition, we keep things professional.”

*if anyone is interested in a tag list lmk!

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letsgobarbs · 3 months ago

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WIPlash

Me? early to a wip wednesday? a rarity for sure <3

Here's a snippet of my Pero Tovar x F!Reader fic that I'm writing for the wtts challenge hosted by @guiltyasdave and @sizzlingcloudmentality

The Groom On The Bride Train

If that perra pinches her nose one more time, he’s going to bite it clean off her face. He knew he smelled bad— he could smell it himself. But it was not that she smelled like an angel’s rosy fart. They had all travelled from distant lands without a proper bed or a wash for who knows how long, simply covering the last stretch of this journey together to the same town. To get married.

His jaw ticked to the side before he clenched his teeth. The skin of his lips burned with the cold. He fisted his aching fingers to preserve some warmth in the wooden digits. He hated the cold— for many reasons— he hated it most because of how silent it was. The snow had been falling over them like a fresh, white shroud of anxious silence as all the women agonised over their fate.

And breaking this silence was the jarring clatter of this closed wagon— with bars over its windows, no doubt used to transport prisoners. Tovar tried not to look closely at the scratch marks on the wood as if some wild animal had been tied inside once— he steered clear of anything with claws after the Tao Tei, preferring to deal with human opponents only.

His thick, matted beard covered the snarl curling his lip as he felt another stare at the side of his face before the woman heaved a giant, weary, woebegone sigh— he was surprised her soul didn’t fly out of her nose. For the last few weeks, these mujeres had stared at him in open curiosity, fear and even pity before they had all decided that their circumstances were far worse. And they might be right.

Only the truly desperate women chose to place themselves at the mercy of a strange man— ones who had no one to protect them from the monsters they were running from. He, on the other hand, was the idiota who thought he would be answering an advertisement for a servant’s job in some Lord’s castle when he saw the announcement on the tavern wall. They were looking for someone who could cook, clean and maintain a household— how was he to know that was a posting for a wife? Who even advertises for a wife?

-/-

It's looking to be a two chapter thing but honestly how am i even supposed to focus on this with the new materialists trailer out my god 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

turn out your pockets: @peepawispunk @coulsons-fullmetal-cellist @guiltyasdave @sizzlingcloudmentality @slimybeth69 @pedrospookie @mushgloomz @ohhoneypascal @clubsoft @damneddamsy @iknowisoundcrazy @evolnoomym @joelmillerisapunk @goodwithcheese @jolapeno @myownwholewildworld @604to647 @tinytinymenace @baronessvonglitter @missredherring @almostfoxglove @stellamarielu @misguidedasgardian @bluemusickid @papurgaatika @cxrsed-angel whoever else that wants to share feel free to tag i shall come nose around a bit <33

#pero tovar x you #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar

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febuwhump · 6 months ago

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Q: what is febuwhump?

A: febuwhump is a prompt challenge during february, in which creators try to fill one prompt a day, as guided by the official prompt list, in whatever creative way they wish

Q: what is whump?

A: it’s when you put a character in emotional, psychological or physical hurt. can be to any extent

Q: do i HAVE to create whump?

A: i’m not gonna come to your home and make you create whump, no. ‘whump’ is in the title of the event and it’s a whump-centric challenge but if that’s not inspiring to you or going to help you be creative then forget it and do what works best for you. challenge yourself how you want to and let febuwhump be the guide, not the law

Q: how do i win febuwhump?

A: officially, you can become a completionist by producing or posting 28 unique whump-themed works over the 28 days of february, in the order the prompts are provided. you do not have to aim to win febuwhump if you don’t want to, and if you are not aiming to win, you do not have to follow all the rules, because at that point who cares

Q: can the 28 unique works be chapters to one fic?

A: yes

Q: can the 28 unique works be in any order?

A: no, please follow the day order as given to the best of your ability

Q: can the 28 unique works actually be less than 28 unique works because i blend a bunch of prompts together for one day or something else along these lines that directly contradicts the explained definition of febuwhump?

A: no

Q: can i complete febuwhump in tandem with other events?

A: yeah like what do i care, of course you can

Q: how do i inform you that i have won?

A: there will be a google forms link made available during the month of february. you have until march 3rd to fill it in

Q: how do i prove that i’ve won?

A: you don’t have to. this is an honour system and if you fill out the form, i will believe you. however, there will be a completionist badge you can use to post with your masterlist to show everyone else that you’ve won. this will be provided near the end fo february

Q: what are the exact requirements for the hall of fame?

A: the exact requirements are as follows:

you must have completed 28 sections/chapters/works/projects etc. inspired by 28 unique prompts and posted/produced them over the 28 days of february

you may combine prompts so long as there are still 28 unique prompts for 28 sections/works

this means that you can combine a core prompt and an alt prompt

or two core prompts, so long as an alt prompt replaces one of them

you must inform the blog by the 3rd of march that you completed febuwhump or your name will not feature in the hall of fame.

Q: am i allowed to–

A: you can do literally whatever you want, in any medium you want

Q: even–

A: yes even that

Q: what about–

A: that too

Q: really? anything at all?

A: if you want to win, follow the rules as explained. if you don’t actually care, do whatever you want. i will not stop you. i am not your mother

Q: can you give me extra ideas for prompts?

A: no! i’ve provided 38 prompts already, so i’m not really in the position to be creating extra lists for specific tropes right now. if you need help with specific prompts (such as not understanding what one means or could possibly involve/be in reference to) then i’ll do my best to help - but i’m only one person and i don’t really have the time or effort to be giving extra ideas right now

the propaganda tag has lots of ideas for how to use various prompts, and the previous prompt lists can be accessed for more ideas

Q: how do i add my fics to the archiveofourown.org collection?

A: the ao3 collection will be open from february 1st to compile all ao3 works. you do not have to have completed all 28 days of febuwhump to submit - any and all febuwhump works are welcome there, but the cut off date is march 5th - the collection will be closed from then, because the collection intends to be a capture of what was written in a specific period of time.

you can add fics as you’re posting or after they’ve been posted by using the ‘collection’ bar on the creation page. all you have to do is type in the name of the collection: febuwhump_2025. do not wait for the drop down menu, it will not show the name. press post and it will be included in the collection.

febuwhump 2021 collection can be accessed here

febuwhump 2022 collection can be accessed here

febuwhump 2023 collection can be accessed here

febuwhump 2024 collection can be accessed here

febuwhump 2025 collection can be accessed here

Q: i have literally any other question

A: check the rules and previous posts and asks and if your specific question isn’t answered, feel free to send an ask. if it has been answered before, and especially recently, i will not answer. please go looking, thanks

#febuwhump #febuwhump 2025 #faq

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scariusaquarius · 3 months ago

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rehab. 18.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

A/n: YAY we finally made real progress with the soldier!! Hehe i hope that you guys enjoyed the way that ended. I really thought that having Peter there would also help because he's such a comforting person<3 Also, if you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee! If you would prefer to read Rehab on Archive, you may do so right HERE!

Author: ScariusAquarius

rehab masterlist. chapter 14 / chapter 15 / chapter 16 / chapter 17

The CIA was hustling and bustling. While the fast-paced environment was normal for the agency, Natasha observed that everyone seemed to be on edge. Agents that didn't think she could see them were glancing her way, whispering behind hands, sweat running down their necks, and some immediately ducking into their computers and acting as if they were busy.

After all, a house call from an Avenger wasn't an everyday happenstance...and for two visits in the span of about two weeks?

Something was off, and everyone in the agency knew.

Natasha's gaze was kept on the Director, however, who was tense and ushering them to his office out of sight. She tilted her head to mutter quietly to the woman beside her.

"How much do you want to be that they're encrypting everything in here as much as possible."

"Agent Romanoff, with your track record, it's a good strategy."

Natasha smirked slightly, stating as she jutted her chin out slightly.

"Aw, come on, Maria, you don't really think I'd have the nerve to steal precious information right within the lion's den, do you?"

Maria Hill was annoyed, giving the woman a death-glare as she turned to her, their steps pausing as she muttered out.

"Romanoff, I implore you to use better judgement. Do the Avengers even know that you're here right now?"

Natasha snickered, and Maria just huffed before the Director ushered them into his office. He was clumsy, bumping his hip into his desk as he tried to readjust his suit and tie, sitting before them with a nervous gleam within his eyes that he hid behind a wide and welcoming smile.

"While I'm unsure if I'm happy to see Agent Romanoff within my agency, I am honored to be in the presence of yet another Avenger and the renowned Maria Hill within my office. What can I do for you, ladies?"

Natasha smiled before grabbing a device within her pocket and held it up, making Maria glance at her before glancing at the Director.

"Director Holloway, do you know what this is?"

Director Holloway looked nervous, asking with an intrigued tone to his voice.

"No, Agent Romanoff, I'm not entirely sure."

She clicked a button, and the Director made a noise of pain as the device effectively scrambled and disengaged any equipment within the office that was listening in on their conversation.

"This is a signal jammer. I just cut off your communications and surveillance devices that are in this room. We only have about two minutes or less to talk now, but if you cooperate, you may go back to your life as the CIA Director normally. Are you willing to comply?"

The Director looked angry, standing up and exclaiming.

"What is this?!"

Maria immediately pulled her weapon out, ordering firmly as she brandished it by placing it upon her lap.

"Sit down, Director."

The Director stuttered before he sat down, and Natasha stood up, sliding a file over to the Director before opening it up.

"This man here is Jack Rollins, which I'm sure you already know. Why are you hiding him?"

The Director laughed nervously, shaking his head as he gestured to the file.

"What are you talking about? Jack Rollins was pronounced dead after the incident at the Triskelion."

Natasha replied firmly, tilting her head slightly.

"His body was never discovered, and the Avengers have reason to believe that he is alive and the CIA is harboring him. Director Holloway, I'm not asking anymore, so it would be your best interest to answer my question."

The Director looked uncomfortable, and Maria put a bullet within the chamber of her gun loudly. Holloway's eyes became wide, and he rushed out.

"Listen, I truly have no idea what you are talking about. Do you realize how much trouble you're going to be in for doing this?!"

Maria Hill finally stood and stated, a hand on her hip.

"We won't be the ones in trouble for rooting out another operative of HYDRA. Director Holloway, harboring a fugitive of the State is treason. Do you really want to play with fire?"

Natasha leaned forward, her face hardening as she pointed at Rollins' picture.

"Where is he?"

Holloway looked as though he was beginning to panic, and with just a raise of Natasha's eyebrow, the Director finally broke.

"Listen, this wasn't my idea! The CIA has been using HYDRA as a means to an end! We partnered with them back in the 60's...creating our own super soldier program in order to make the best agents to ensure national security!"

Maria looked offended, exclaiming.

"National Security? Working with HYDRA means that you are not secure at all."

Holloway hissed out, slamming his fist down on the table.

"Don't you think that we know that? HYDRA has always been using us as we have been using them. Stealing our information, sabotaging our efforts, the whole nine yards!"

Natasha frowned and asked.

"What do you know about Project Achilles?"

Holloway's face paled, and a haunted look came within his eyes.

"Project Achilles...it was a last resort. We worked together with HYDRA to create the perfect agent...we slaved for years trying to replicate what Howard Stark had created. Robert had always been a brilliant mind, you see? While HYDRA and the CIA had the same idea of creating a perfect weapon, the CIA wanted to...to have the perfect agent that could protect our country! But HYDRA....HYDRA wanted to expand their influence...to control from within! Project Achilles was just a front!"

Maria scoffed, asking.

"So you wanted to create another Captain America, but instead gave HYDRA everything they needed to create a perfect Winter Soldier program. Unbelievable."

Holloway pleaded, sweat running down his face in earnest.

"You have to believe me that this wasn't what we wanted to happen! Before we knew it, HYDRA had control of almost all of the CIA! Anybody that wanted to expose or whistleblow was taken and disappeared! Why do you think (Y/n) (L/n) was taken!"

Natasha and Maria glanced at each other with grave expressions, and Holloway looked horrified. He began to whisper, panicking to himself.

"Oh, god, they're going to kill me. They're going to fucking kill me-they'll know I talked. I’m dead. You don’t understand—"

Natasha slapped the Director to get him to stop panicking, the man clutching his cheek with shock.

"Listen to me very closely. I want you to tell me where Rollins is and why you are hiding him."

"I cannot do that. He knows too much! Releasing him to you means letting HYDRA know that we've turned our backs, and we have no way of protecting ourselves!"

Natasha mused, shaking her head.

"You mean that taking him down risks exposing the CIA for their complicity in illegal experimentation, mind control projects, assassinations, and treason for working with the enemy?"

Holloway looked as though he was going to bust a blood vessel within his head, and Maria ordered him.

"Director Holloway, I'm formally ordering you to give us Jack Rollins' location or else be arrested for unauthorized covert operations, collusion with a terrorist organization, human rights violations, obstruction of justice, and, oh, conspiracy against the U.S, to name a few."

Holloway began to panic again, incomplete words falling out of his mouth, and Natasha tapped her watch.

"Tick, tock, Director Dean Holloway. This is a losing battle either way, so you might as well go out with some dignity."

Holloway made a face of regret before he covered his face and muttered through his hands.

"He's at The Farm...in Virginia. We knew that the Avengers couldn't storm in without risking backlash from the U.S. Government...anymore than the Avengers Initiative has already faced."

Holloway then added, giving Natasha and Maria a pleading look as his eyes became glassy and his nostrils flared.

"But you have to believe me that I never wanted it to go this far! (Y/n)...she was such a kind woman...I never wanted her to get hurt, but she kept asking questions...kept finding more things that weren't for her to see...and was threatening to take it to the news; to the Department of Justice and the Director of National Security! I tried to get her to stop, I did, but HYDRA...HYDRA didn't care."

He began to silently cry, whispering.

"I'm so sorry. I never wanted it to be this way. I just...wanted our country to be safe."

Maria and Natasha both scoffed, Maria muttering.

"You can explain it all at your court hearing, Director."

Director Holloway looked horrified and confused, and Maria pulled out a tape recorder, hitting play and his confession playing back to him. Holloway pleaded, standing up and gesturing.

"Please, please, you don't understand! If you do this, I am a dead man! I mean, my...my family! What about my family?"

Natasha shrugged, a cold and uncaring expression on her face.

"I guess we'll just have to see, Director. What is it...eye for an eye?"

As the timer went off, Natasha's facial expression turned into a smile as she gestured to her watch.

"Thank you so much for your cooperation, Director Holloway. We'll be in touch."

Natasha and Maria left, their steps quick as they moved to get out of the agency, and once they were in the car together, Maria glanced at Natasha.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"I think it's a damn stupid idea."

The voice of Nick Fury came through the speakers of the car, and Natasha couldn't help but to grin.

"Aw, you don't really mean that, do you?"

Fury scoffed, pleading with her as Maria quickly drove away from the CIA agency.

"Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you didn’t just threaten to expose a U.S. intelligence agency on the grounds of 'moral obligation'!"

Natasha was quiet, crossing her arms as she picked at her nails, stating.

"The CIA is just as corrupt as SHIELD was. They were harboring a HYDRA fugitive, worked with the organization, experimented on a civilian and who knows how many more, tested human weapons, all under the guise of national security, but you and I both know that isn't true at all. You want me to sit on that?"

Fury immediately replied, Maria wincing slightly as his voice became angry.

"I'm not asking you to sit on it. I'm asking if you've lost your damn mind!"

Fury took a breath, calming himself before he continued.

"You want justice—so do I. But blowing the lid off the CIA doesn’t just scorch the earth, Romanoff—it burns every single name we’ve ever worked with. Every operative. Every shadow asset. Every mission that ever prevented a war before it started."

Natasha replied with a frown, stating.

"They have what's coming to them."

"This isn't about whether or not people deserve what is coming to them-it's about the goddamn consequences. You wanna drag them into the light? Fine. But do it smart. Controlled. Surgical. Not guns blazing with Hill and pulling triggers in a federal office."

Natasha chuckled, which made Fury growl in annoyance.

"I didn't realize that recording a confession was the same as pulling a trigger, Fury."

Maria gave the woman a look, and Natasha just grinned wider. Nick didn't grace Natasha with a response, stating to her instead as his voice softened just the slightest.

"Look, I get it. You see HYDRA, and it’s personal. You want to do right by (Y/n), by everyone that HYDRA has hurt. But if you go about this the wrong way, the fallout won’t just land on Holloway’s head. It’ll land on yours. On Barnes. On (Y/n). On the Avengers--"

Fury then paused for a moment before sighing in defeat.

"You wanna clean house? Fine. But you do it with a mop and gloves, not a motherfucking flamethrower."

The line clicked, and Maria sighed after a moment, clearing her throat.

"Well, that could have gone...a lot better than it did."

Natasha didn't comment. Instead, she rolled her head to look at Maria, asking.

"Hey, you wanna go get some coffee? There's this new shop that just opened up down the way. Apparently their macchiatos are to die for."

Maria looked conflicted before her shoulders fell and she flipped her turn signal on.

"You know what? After uncovering a national security conspiracy and the threat of another internal war with HYDRA? I think coffee sounds great."

-PETER-

Peter could feel the tension in the room slowly dying. Ever since (Y/n) had said to Bucky that she wanted to go home, she had completely rebuilt her walls again, retreating to stay curled up in a darker corner of the heart-shaped herb garden. Bucky was currently on the phone with Steve, updating him about the progress he just made when Peter suddenly received a message on his phone.

Spidey Sunny Patch: Old McDonald is at The Farm. You know what to do. Don’t forget the milk.

Peter made a face of confusion before he stood up to tap Barnes on the shoulder. Bucky paused his conversation with Steve before he glanced at Peter.

"What is it?"

"Natasha just sent me a message."

Peter showed Bucky the message, and he watched as Bucky's face became serious. Bucky spoke into the phone, not noticing the way (Y/n)'s head suddenly perked up as she listened.

"Steve, Natasha just found where Rollins is. I'll be up there shortly."

Bucky hung up, and he looked at Peter, ordering.

"I want you to stay here with her, alright? Don't answer that door for anybody except for the Dora Milaje, T'Challa, or Shuri."

Peter nodded before he asked Bucky as Bucky slipped his phone into his pocket and tightened the laces of his boots.

"What should I do with (Y/n) in the meantime?"

Bucky glanced at (Y/n), pursing his lips before stating gently.

"Just give her some time to be by herself. Make sure she eats and drinks something though...and keep me updated, alright?"

Peter nodded again, saying.

"Okay, I'll do my best."

"Thanks, Queens."

Peter smiled gently before watching as Bucky left, the Dora Milaje agent stepping away from the door to let him through before standing guard again. Peter glanced back at (Y/n) before sighing and slipping into his backpack. Taking out his homework, he sat near her and began to work. The hairs on his arm suddenly stood up, and he realized that (Y/n) was subtly watching him. With a curious tilt of his head, he asked her gently.

"Do you...want me to show you what I'm working on? It's my homework...for school."

The words seemed to confuse the woman, her brows furrowing uncomfortably before she turned away from him, clutching her knees. Despite her obvious refusal, Peter decided to begin speaking.

"Um, we're working on Kinematics in Physics right now...well, specifically the equations of motion and circular motion."

He paused to gauge (Y/n)'s reaction, and he was surprised when the woman looked at him, swallowing thickly before her eyes darted down to the textbook.

"What is it?"

She became uncomfortable again before she whispered.

"I...hear...my voice...talking about...designing things..."

Peter gave her his undivided attention, tilting his head as he inquired softly.

"Designing what?"

She frowned, looking confused before (Y/n) responded.

"Aircrafts...drones..."

Her voice trailed off, her eyes glazing over, and she turned away from him, leaning her head back into her knees and subtly shaking. Despite her confusion and closed-off nature, Peter felt a surge of hope. She seemed to be remembering things at a fast rate, and though Peter was happy, he also became worried. What if she began to remember too much at once? Peter chewed on his lip before he comforted.

"I'm glad that you're remembering things."

She seemed stunned, glancing at him before she replied brokenly.

"I'm not supposed to remember..."

Peter wasn't sure what to respond with, and before he knew it, (Y/n) was completely closed off and unresponsive. Biting his lip, Peter then sighed before going back to his work, wondering what the Avengers were doing now.

STORY NOTES: The scene opens up with Natasha and Maria Hill in the CIA Agency. We learn that Natasha has made a house call to the Director, who is currently leading Natasha and Maria into his office. He is visibly nervous and tense, and we learn that Natasha is working without the involvement of the Avengers. The Director finally ushers them into his office, and Natasha immediately opens the conversation by displaying a signal jammer. She effectively disengages any and all surveillance devices within the room, including a secret earpiece that the Director was wearing.

Natasha begins to question the Director about Jack Rollins and his whereabouts. At first, the Director plays dumb, but after some persuasion and passive-aggressive displays, the Director finally caves under the pressure. He reveals that the CIA has been working and using HYDRA to their advantage in order to further their own research of a super soldier program that the CIA was conducting in secret. He reveals that the CIA also knew that HYDRA was using them. He tells Natasha and Maria of how HYDRA had been stealing classified information, sabotaging CIA efforts and missions, among other incidents.

Natasha then asks Director Holloway about Project Achilles, which causes the man to become upset. He reveals that Project Achilles was supposed to be a last resort for the CIA, and it was an operation that was supposed to be about national security but was perverted by HYDRA into expanding their influence and working from within. He says to Natasha that the Project became a front for HYDRA. Maria points out that the CIA was trying to create a new Captain America, but instead gave HYDRA the means to create a new and improved Winter Soldier, and Holloway refutes the statement. He begs Maria to understand that the CIA never wanted the Project to become what it did and that HYDRA had, and has, seized control of most of the CIA. He reveals that (Y/n) (L/n) had been kidnapped for attempting to expose the CIA, and consequently HYDRA.

Natasha demands to know where Rollins is and why the CIA is hiding him, and Holloway states that he can't give her the information she seeks because it will alert HYDRA that he has revealed everything. However, Natasha retorts that he is more concerned with not risking the CIA's exposure for willful involvement with HYDRA, among other unlawful offenses. Maria then threatens Director Holloway with being arrested, which causes the Director to become speechless. After more urging, the Director finally reveals Jack Rollins' location. He then reveals that he feels guilty for what happened to (Y/n), affirming that he never wanted her to get hurt.

He reveals that (Y/n) had begun to ask questions about the CIA, and was finding documents that indicated the CIA's involvement with HYDRA, and was getting ready to expose the CIA, and consequently HYDRA, which was what ultimately caused her disappearance. Maria tells the Director that he could confess everything at his court hearing, alluding that the Director, despite cooperating, was still going to be exposed and arrested. Once the leave the Agency, Natasha is on a phone call with Nicky Fury, who is angry with Natasha for lighting a fire within HYDRA. Natasha and Fury begin to have a debate about moral obligation, in which Fury reprimands Natasha for her reckless behavior. After a few more moments of speaking, Fury finally gives in and tells Natasha to be careful and smart about her exposure of the CIA. Once the phone call ends, Natasha invites Maria for coffee.

The scene changes to Peter Parker, Bucky, and (Y/n). Bucky is on the phone with Steve to update him about (Y/n)'s sudden progress while Peter is keeping watch over (Y/n), who has become unresponsive. Natasha then sends Peter a message in codewords. She indicates for Peter to tell the Avengers, and Peter shows Bucky the message. Bucky understand immediately and alerts Steve. He orders for Peter to stay with (Y/n) while he goes to inform the Avengers of the news, and Peter agrees. Once Bucky leaves and Peter is unsure of what to do, he begins to work on his schoolwork. Peter is surprised to find (Y/n) watching him as he works, and he explains that his Physics class is currently working on Kinematics, specifically the Equations of Motion and Circular Motion. The topics trigger an auditory flashback, which (Y/n) vaguely explains after Peter notices her weary behavior.

She reveals that she can hear her voice talking about "designing things" and when Peter asks her about what, (Y/n) reveals that it was about aircrafts and drones. She retreats again, becoming unresponsive once more, and though Peter is worried about how fast she is remembering things, he tells her that he is happy that she is remembering. However, (Y/n) tells him that she's not supposed to remember things, and Peter is unsure how to respond. Instead, Peter begins to work on his homework again while wondering what the Avengers are doing. End scene.

TRANSLATIONS:

None

TAGLIST: @tilldeathripsusapart @vicmc624 @mgchaser @aash3 @samfunko @seventeen-x @valckenaux @babybeeelle @sc4rrc @cjand10 @bane-y-zane @notsostrangerthing @thenameswinter99

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puttersmile · 10 months ago

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Why I like Dogday x Bobby Bearhug

Working off of my last Crittertember post, posting the shipping manifesto for the four of you who are just dying to know, lol.

Part 1 of Post: Here. Just a lot of pictures.

I guess I should start with how I started liking the ship in the first place. As best as I can remember it started with a mildly intense obsession with the Smiling Critters after seeing them in Poppy Playtime Chapter 3. Their carboard soundboards specifically intrigued me. As a fandom we really had ziltch to work with so maybe I was hyper-analyzing their phrases to see if anything could be gleamed from them.

There isn't much unless we are meant to believe Picky is literally a cannibal. I don't think so? I think the voice lines have been corrupted by the metric ton of death that happened within the factory. Be it as it may, what little we fanon-ize about the critters, a lot of it is probably coming from those soundboards.

A post about this already exists on tumblr but at some random point I thought, "Weird Bobby Bearhug and Dogday's cut outs sound like they are talking to one another." Not sure how my brain jumped to that conclusion but it did. As seen in this post with some old oogly art I drew.

And then @meowcola made my dream come true by editing the two voices together. Yhaass! For this I am forever grateful to my fellow shipper.

I don't think any of the other critter's voice lines bounce off of each other as well as these two do (admittedly with slight editing), or even at all. But Bobby and Dogday's cutouts almost seem to have a conversation that don't work played against any of the others. Dogday trying to push someone away that he cares for and Bobby desperately trying to stay with someone she cares for.

Dogday's fall is he cares too much.

Bobby's fall is she doesn't care enough. For herself.

Obviously they are talking to the player actually but my fanon ship brain interpreted it differently. I guess from there, albeit a doomed one, I shipped this ship fairly hard.

The rest of this rambling essay under the cut:

Why I think they work:

Dogday and Bobby’s relationship is mostly about balance. While Dogday’s the brave and daring leader of the group (except when there's a thunderstorm—he tries), Bobby’s the physically strong yet practical one. She’s a total powerhouse,(literal mama bear energy) ready to protect when needed, but only as a last resort. Dogday loves how protective she is, and Bobby really appreciates his loyalty, especially since it helps with her self-worth issues.

One of Bobby’s biggest insecurities is that she believes she’s annoying to her friends. Even though it’s clear she’s not, in the back of her mind, she constantly second-guesses her actions. She’ll wonder if hugging someone is the right move in the moment or if she’s overstepping. Dogday, on the other hand, is someone who thrives on affection and would never get tired of Bobby’s hugs, making him the perfect counter to her uncertainty.

Both of them would share a strong sense of humor, which helps them face life’s challenges with optimism. Dogday is especially good at this. They know how to lighten the mood and bring joy to each other’s lives, even when the weight of everything starts to creep in.

Bobby’s also got a knack for stepping in when Dogday forgets to take care of himself. She’s nurturing, and in return, Dogday reminds her she’s worth it, which she sometimes forgets. Though Bobby’s not Dogday’s second-in-command (that’s usually Bubba Bubbaphant), she’s the one Dogday confides in emotionally when leadership wears him down.

Over time, Bobby finds herself leaning on Dogday, too, sharing her deepest insecurities and struggles with him.

What really makes them work is how much everyone trusts Bobby. She’s the keeper of everyone’s secrets because they just naturally open up to her. And eventually, Dogday becomes her rock, giving them this deep emotional connection where they’re both vulnerable and open with each other.

Bobby’s practicality also helps balance out Dogday’s crazier ideas. She rarely says “no” outright, but she’s good at restructuring them to make things safer or less chaotic. If safety’s not the issue, then they’re often the ones mediating when their friends have disagreements. They’ve both learned the importance of compromise and work together to bring peace to any tense situation.

I feel like their brief character descriptions show how good they would both be at this.

They’re known as the “mom and dad” of the group, always looking out for everyone’s physical and emotional well-being.

It’s funny how differently they approach things, like planning events—Dogday’s spontaneous energy versus Bobby’s structured organization—but they still make a great team.

In public, they’ve got this super cute Barbie/Ken - Mickey&Minnie vibe, showing their love for each other without hesitation. It’s strong, proud, and they never shy away from letting everyone know how much they mean to each other!

Character flaws/dark side of the ship:

At their darkest, Bobby and Dogday have some pretty complex flaws. Bobby, when she’s at her worst, can be manipulative. She’s got this way of playing on people’s emotions, sometimes twisting things to suit her needs, all while wearing a caring face. It’s like she knows people trust her and she uses that to her advantage, especially if she’s feeling insecure or threatened.

On the flip side, Dogday’s biggest weakness is his fear of hurting others. He’ll go to great lengths to avoid conflict, even if it means letting himself be hurt. He’s so afraid of causing pain or upsetting someone that he’ll bottle up his own feelings or allow himself to be taken advantage of.

This combination can be dangerous when their issues align, with Bobby’s manipulation and Dogday’s passive acceptance creating a pretty toxic dynamic in their worst moments. Thankfully this outcome is incredibly hard for me to see happening. It is still a possibility though.

(In some messed up but interesting fanfiction)

Other Stuff:

On the wiki I saw something incredibly minute but decided to go ahead and make something of it. There is the idea, at least, that Dogday is named after “Dogstar” aka Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky. If you think about Dogday being associated with Sirius, the Dog Star, and Bobby representing Ursa Major aka The Big Dipper, in my mind it symbolizes how their relationship works.

Sirius is the brightest star, leading the way, just like Dogday, who's bold, full of energy, and always guiding others. Bobby, on the other hand, is like Ursa Major—steady, reliable, and always there to support.

Their relationship reflects that balance: Dogday’s light and leadership are complemented by Bobby’s protective, grounding nature. Together, they’re like two guiding forces—he lights the way, and she provides the strength and stability needed to stay on course.

It’s almost like he can shine brighter because he knows she’s there, holding things together.

And for Bobby, Dogday is the spark that keeps her moving forward, even when she feels uncertain.

It’s also cool how Ursa Major is used for navigation, like Bobby helps Dogday find his way emotionally. Meanwhile, Sirius has been a marker of important times like the "dog days" of summer or the flooding of the Nile river, (The flooding of the Nile is celebrated btw, it's a good thing) just as Dogday marks big changes in Bobby’s life.

They balance each other out like the constellations they represent: one a guiding light, the other a steady, protective force in the background.

I think about the cardboard cutout order. Bobby and Dogday are among the last supposedly, holding out even longer than the athletic Hoppy. I interpret that to mean Bobby on her own has a strong will and some amount of bravery.

Not to throw shade at the others who fell before, as it could have all come down to bad luck.(or bad platforming skills--burn.) But I bring the “possible” death order up as some might say Bobby’s sweet and caring nature means she is weak or useless. I don’t think so.

This is also why I characterize Bobby as sort of a lady-like yet cute bruiser. Dogday is brave but not the strongest critter by far. Dogday is Zelda and Bobby is Link lol. Bobby Bearhug is his knight in fluffy armor, and Dogday is Bobby’s warm home.

There is a tragedy to this. If Bobby was one of the last two with Dogday in the game. (Going by the order the cardboard cutouts are seen.) I imagine she was doing her best to support him, only for Dogday to abandon Bobby near the end. As the leader, Dogday did what he thought was best and it broke her, ultimately ending them both.

How the relationship Helps them grow:

Not wanting to end this on a down note I’ll speak a bit more on how the relationship enhances both of them.

Bobby’s practical, more thoughtful approach doesn’t just temper Dogday’s adventurous spirit as what may be expected from a dynamic like this. In fact it enhances his daring.

Yes, it'll ease him off riskier behavior but it enables him to be a more successful leader with her providing safety nets and or foundations for him to be confident. It's not just him willing confidence from within, there's another external pillar to bolster his confidence. That pillar being her secret knowledge of their friends. While Bobby won't be spilling secrets, she'd certainly know how to guide Dogday in the right direction when it comes to helping the others.

She helps ensure that his ideas are successful and safe, so he'll not only be able to focus his energy on particulars but he'll have the confidence to be the best leader he can be, knowing he won't just come crashing down to earth.

In turn Dogday's boundless energy, brings joy and spontaneity to Bobby’s more grounded maybe reserved, structured world. Though she is strong she likely tends to fall back to what's familiar, to what's safe. There is strength in the familiar in the sense of you know for sure you are strong here, but out there things may be more uncertain.

Out there you can feel weak. At least that's the perception for some with issues of self worth. But now with his energy, his enthusiasm, his optimism, and his light, she'll have the freedom to step out of her usual comfort zones and perhaps be more than she may have imagined.

Sooo yeah. This ship is not bad. Nor is it boring. I'll never understand how this sentiment came about. Opposites attract isn't the only way a relationship can be interesting. Okay people?

And that is all that I have to say! Thanks for listening to my CritterTalk.

#poppy playtime #fanart #smiling critters #bobby bearhug #myart #dogday #dogday x bobby bearhug #bobby bearhug x dogday #sunshinecuddles #heart n sol #puppylove #sunkiss #shipping opinions #heartnsol #the ship is not boring #crittertember

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7clubs · 1 year ago

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hi just wanted to ask how. do i Read orv like what Is it

Hi... Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint is a super long Apocalyptic Fantasy + Psychological Korean Webnovel (complete) that also has an ongoing Webtoon adaptation.

If you like fun metanarrative bullshit, have ever been a little too dependent on your blorbo to get through life, if you love stories/storytelling as a concept, if you are a writer like me, and like epic complex women, you may just love ORV.

If you are a former homestuck like me and was dissatisfied with the ending: uh, this is kinda like hs if it stuck the landing. i am serious.

HOW TO READ ORV:

Novel: I used this epub file!

Webtoon: Right here!

The Webnovel currently doesn't have an official English translation (though it's in the works) and I believe the one that's out there is partially machine translated, so the prose can be rough.

But obviously, I still enjoyed myself plenty: ORV often goes through some scenes rather bluntly/directly anyway, and shines truly with what its characters and themes are doing.

There's more versions in this google doc too, and that has a whole bunch more info for new readers and a link to content warnings as well! But I want to keep this post simpler ^_^

I think the Webtoon comic is a pretty good adaptation, and might be a great starting point! (since... it's probably not going to be complete for. another decade) But ORV relies on a lot of the novel format's quirks for its full impact, and I truly think it's the definitive experience.

WHAT IS IT ABOUT?

It's a story about stories focusing on Kim Dokja, who is a nobody office worker about to lose his job, who has lived a life of mostly mundane, everyday tragedies.

He finds solace in his hobby, reading webnovels on the train to work, in particular his favorite story: a super long, super boring, and super unpopular webnovel called Three Ways to Survive the Apocalypse (TWSA) In fact, he's perhaps the only person who has read the novel to its final chapter, after over ten years of dedicated readership.

As he's waiting for the webnovel to update with its epilogue, suddenly, the world as he knows it is plunged into TWSA's setting, and Kim Dokja finds himself in the unique position of being the one person who knows how the story will play out... and perhaps, change the ending to his liking.

But he doesn't have to just contend with surviving the bloody challenges demanded by the godly beings of TWSA's setting... he also has to face the novel's characters becoming real people: in particular, its ruthless protagonist, Yoo Joonghyuk, who has his own plans for success and is more than willing to cut down any new threat that pops up.

ARE YOU NORMAL ABOUT IT?

No. I will never be the same again. see this attached post

#orv #faq

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bellofthemeadow · 2 years ago

Text

Dawn ends the Night

Aemond Targaryen x Dayne!Reader

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 2.8K

Warning: All warnings on the Series Masterlist, will update if necessary (Re-iterating, no minors allowed! Thank you)

Chapter Summary: As a newly woman grown, you learn of your fate as a woman in a men's world.

Notes: Guess who's back? Back again?! I AM BACK (again)!

Hello everyone, I'm thrilled to announce that I'm back! 🎉 After a brief hiatus due to my final undergraduate semester (which I just completed this past Monday – yay!), and amidst the hustle of graduate school applications, I'm finally able to return to writing.

I'm incredibly excited to embark on a brand-new series with you all. I've recently tumbled down the HOTD rabbit hole, and my obsession with Aemond Targaryen knows no bounds! 🐉 I assure you, my other fanfictions haven't been forgotten. I'm currently working on them and, with the festive season around the corner, I look forward to dedicating more time to writing and establishing a more consistent posting schedule.

Your support means the world to me and I love you all so so much💖 Feel free to reach out if you have any special requests, ideas, or if you'd just like to chat. I'm always so happy to connect with mutuals!!! Love you all

Taglist: (None yet)

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Prologue - The Ghost of Starfall

All your life, your father had assured you that you would marry into the Martel family, destined to reign over Dorne like the ancient Dayne kings of the Torentine. But these plans shifted when Quoren Martell welcomed his daughter, Aliandra, who was destined to become the future Princess of Dorne and Lady of Sunspear. And although the Dornish were much more unrestrained than their counterparts on the continent, you were quite certain that they would not accept you becoming the princess’ consort. Two women officially ruling Dorne? Even that would be a bit too radical for the love-loving Dornishmen.

After his plans to make you the future ruling princess of Dorne fell through, your father started to envision a different future for you. You could still vividly recall nights spent perched on his knee, gazing up at the starlit sky. The cool desert breeze caressing your skin as you looked on in awe, your father's voice weaving tales of the grand life awaiting you as the Lady of Starfall. Those few precious moments, however, faded into memory with the arrival of your 13th birthday and the birth of Gerris. That misty morning marked a shift in everything when your brother came into the world screaming his little lungs out marked the end of your future as the Lady of the Dawn. As although Dorne's inheritance laws, shaped by Nymeria and the Roynar, endorsed absolute primogeniture, the stony Dornish your kin, those with deep roots in the First Men and the Andals, still favored the firstborn son. Technically, you knew you could challenge this tradition. You had the right, the means, and perhaps even the support of Qoren Martell to retain your birthright.

Yet, as you watched your father, his eyes brimming with wonder and joy at the sight of his newborn son, a decision settled quietly within 13 years old you. And with a heavy heart but resolute spirit, you chose to step aside. You withdrew silently, without protest or fanfare, setting aside your claim for the love of your family. And as the years passed you by, you found yourself amid whispers and wishes for Gerris who was still but a babe, to inherit the revered honor of your house — the title of “Sword of the Morning," a symbol of unmatched valor and prestige among your kin, that only the braves and more chivalrous could inherit. Each mention from the courtiers was a poignant reminder of your own path, not as a son of House Dayne, but as its daughter. Not as the lady of the castle, but as its ghost, a ghost of better times, simpler times. But in quieter moments, you tried to find solace in the belief that there were other, perhaps more subtle, ways to serve and honor your family. You had read all that there was to read about rulership, about history and about philosophy and you knew that true power could manifest in a myriad of forms, not solely in the strength of arms. As you gaze upon the intricate tapestry of your family's history, you knew that your role was no less significant and that you would radiate with your own bright light.

But for you, whispers of Dawn or grand destinies were absent, their echoes replaced by a more pragmatic reality. In place of tales of great adventures beyond the narrow sea, the halls of Starfall began to fill with a different kind of anticipation. The noble houses of Blackmont, Toland, Uller, and even the Yronwood sent their envoys and heirs. This cavalcade of suitors, a stark contrast to the dreams of your future before Gerris’ birth solidified your new role within the walls of your father’s castle. It was a shift, subtle yet profound, marking both an end and a beginning. You were no longer the future ruling Lady of House Dayne; you were now a key figure in its political future.

Duty became a familiar companion, yet melancholia was your closest confidante, a shadow that dimmed the brightest of days. This deep-seated wistfulness made entertaining suitors an arduous task and instead, you found solace gazing from the high castle walls, eyes wandering over the sandy mounds and the winding Torentine, over the stony mountains that cradled Starfall away from the continent's heart.

There, atop those ancient walls, you would lose yourself in dreams, wrapped in the embrace of solitude. It was in these moments of quiet reflection that you yearned to be something more, something beyond the expectations set upon you. They began to call you the 'Ghost of Starfall'. An ethereal presence, haunting the corridors and ramparts, a spirit adrift in her own thoughts, her dreams unfulfilled and stretching endlessly before her.

But to your astonishment, your father never sanctioned any betrothals. Representatives from Yronwood, Blackmont, and Uller came and went, each departing without a pledge from the enigmatic ghost of Starfall. You refrained from asking why, harboring a fear that your inquiry might prompt your father to reconsider, possibly sending you away from your beloved star-gazing haven to the austere castles of Uller or the strict Yronwood.

After your father's latest refusal of a suitor — a young, landed knight from the Reach, his brown curls soft and eyes a mesmerizing blend of green flecked with gold — you looked at your father, filled with uncertainty. “He seemed kind father.” you softly whispered. You could imagine yourself marrying this man, with long lazy days spent gazing into his warm eyes. In response, your father rose from his starry throne and approached you, placing a gentle kiss on your brow. "My little star deserves more than a mere knight," he said softly. "I will find you a suitor worthy of the starry heavens, my sweet love." After this declaration, suitors ceased to arrive.

Until this morning.

In the dim pre-dawn light, your mother gently roused you, her movements quiet in the stillness before the castle stirred to life. With tender hands, she dressed you, her fingers weaving your hair into an intricate half-up updo, the lower strands cascading in soft curls. Her touch was soothing, almost melodic, as she adorned you in a gown of white and purple samite. Its gauzy sleeves fluttered ethereally, transforming you into the very ghost of legend whispered in the halls of Starfall.

"Is it time?" you asked, a hint of apprehension in your voice, as she fastened a necklace around your neck, its purple stone shaped like a star glimmering softly.

In lieu of a direct answer, she pressed a kiss to your forehead, her lips whispering a silent prayer. "Come, my sweet girl," she murmured softly into your hair. "Today, you must be strong." Hand in hand, she led you towards your father’s personal solar, each step resonating into the stillness of the morning.

As you and your mother stepped into the solar, a sense of confusion washed over you. Before you, your father and Prince Qoren Martell stood in hushed, intense discussion, surrounded by a sea of scattered papers. They were so engrossed in their conversation that they failed to notice your entrance, prompting a deliberate cough from your mother.

"Ahem," she cleared her throat pointedly, breaking their focus.

The two men spun around, their expressions shifting from concentration to surprise. Your mother regarded them with a mildly unimpressed gaze, her poise unshakable.

"My lords, a touch of gallantry, if you please," she chided lightly, gesturing towards you.

As their eyes found you, you executed a graceful curtsy, the fabric of your gown whispering against the floor. Prince Qoren's face broke into a broad smile at the sight.

"No need for such formality, my dear," he chuckled warmly. "Look at you, outshining the stars themselves! Fortunately, you've inherited your mother's beauty and not your father's," he teased, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

A blush crept across your cheeks at his words. "Thank you, Prince Qoren," you replied shyly, "Your flattery is most kind."

"It's not flattery if it's the truth, my dear," Prince Qoren Martell retorted with a playful wink. A heavy silence then descended upon the room, enveloping your parents and your distinguished guest, the great prince of the lands you called home. You felt like an unwitting participant in a jest whose punchline you didn't know, the unwitting fool in an unspoken joke. Yet, no laughter broke the silence. Compelled by your uneasy curiosity, you posed the question that hung unspoken in the air.

"The journey from Sunspear must have been arduous, my Prince. We are honored by your visit," you began, your voice steady. "May I inquire as to the urgency of your need for me this early, and why the esteemed Prince of Dorne would grace us with his presence?"

"Your wit matches your beauty, Lady," Prince Qoren replied with a sincere smile. "I've traveled from my home to discuss a certain missive, one that concerns both your father, yourself and the future of Dorne."

"I gather this missive must be of great import to summon me before even the servants begin their day," you ventured, a hint of steel in your voice. "It seems a matter of secrecy."

"Indeed, my daughter," your father interjected. "We've received a proposal regarding your hand in marriage."

"And who might this suitor be, that his proposal warrants Prince Qoren's personal involvement?" you asked, your eyebrow arching with skepticism.

"As your father's dear friend and as someone who has always taken a keen interest in your future, my Lady, all of Dorne has its eyes on you," the prince answered, meeting your gaze.

Your skepticism remained. "So much so that it necessitates a journey from Sunspear?"

Your mother, sensing the rising tension, interjected softly, "Come, sit with us, my dear." As you took your seat, your father tenderly grasped your hands, planting a soft kiss upon your knuckles. "The Dragons have expressed interest in you," he revealed, his voice laced with a mixture of pride and concern.

Your breath hitched at the mention of 'Dragons.' There was only one house in all of Westeros and beyond that was associated with the winged fire breathing beasts. Starfall knew more than anyone else the dangers of their fire and of their wrath.

Prince Qoren clarified, "This request likely originated from Otto Hightower. Our spies from the capital suggest the Greens are maneuvering for the throne. With old Viserys nearing his end, they're placing their pieces on the cyvasse board. Hightower may be a contemptible leech, but his cunning is undeniable." He stroked his dark beard thoughtfully

But why would Otto Hightower want me?" you asked, your voice tinged with a mix of confusion and urgency. "Dorne isn't even part of their kingdom! We've aligned with the Triarchy and have been opposing the dragons since their arrival on our shores." The plea in your voice was evident as you looked over your parents and your prince, who stood unmoving yet deep in thoughts.

"That is precisely why Otto Hightower is interested – not just in you, but in Dorne," Qoren Martell explained gravely, looking into your eyes. "We Dornish have a history of standing against dragons. We've never bowed, broken, or bent the knee. We know how to fight them, and we know hot to kill them. Now, Hightower wants our alliance to counter Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen's claim when they make their move for the throne."

"But is Princess Rhaenyra not the legitimate heir? By Dornish law, she should be the future queen. If we were to engage in their politics, should we not we support the Blacks?" you questioned.

"We might have aligned with Princess Rhaenyra," Qoren admitted with a hint of regret, "if not for her union with Daemon Targaryen. Remember the Stepstones? That debacle alone shows why it's dangerous for Daemon to wield any real power. He's not just a rogue; he's a warmonger."

Qoren paused, weighing his words carefully. "Should Rhaenyra ascend the throne, Daemon would be right there, whispering in her ear. And let us be frank, he'd relish any excuse to launch an assault on Dorne, trying to conquer what Aegon the Conqueror couldn't. Whether it's for personal glory or just to satisfy his lust for war, it's a risk we cannot afford."

A shudder ran through you at the thought of Dorne, bloodied and broken. Determined to prevent such a fate for your people, you asked in a subdued tone, "What is expected of me?"

"Oh, my sweet girl," your mother murmured, enveloping you in a comforting embrace. "You are not obliged to do anything. If you wish, we will send Otto Hightower away with a message to shove his seven-pointed star straight up his arse, and we will stand against Daemon Targaryen if need be." she tearfully proclaim, her face in your hair.

"You won't be forced into anything you're not willing to embrace. As for Otto Hightower, trust isn't a luxury I afford him as my experience with this man has taught me to be wary of his machinations. He is adept at playing the long game, and his latest maneuver is quite telling. By extending this proposal to your father and deliberately excluding me, he seeks to sow seeds of discord, perhaps hoping to weaken the unity that has long been our strength.His intentions, I surmise, are to draw you into the Hightower fold through marriage. Such a union could potentially sway Dorne's allegiance in the looming conflict for the Iron Throne."

Pausing, Qoren looked out the window, then back at you with a solemn expression. "This is not merely a question of matrimony. It is a strategic move and our response will shape the future, not just for us, but for all of Dorne."

You furrowed your brow in contemplation. "Why would we even entertain his proposal if his intent is to divide us?" you questioned.

Prince Qoren's expression turned shrewd, cunning playing in his dark brown eyes"Precisely because we understand his motives. By accepting his offer on our terms, we control the game. It's like holding all the key pieces in cyvasse; we dictate the moves, and we can make the dragons dance to our tune."

Your mind whirled, grappling with the enormity of everything they were telling you.

"Consider carefully, my little star," your father said, "This decision rests in your hands. Whatever path you choose, know that we stand with you."

"If I agree, may I set my own terms?" you asked softly.

"Of course, my Lady," Qoren grants.

"Accept Otto Hightower’s offer of marriage, tell him that we will aid him in his future conflict against Daemon Targaryen and the Blacks, but it comes with a non-negotiable stipulation: Dorne's independence is sacrosanct. We shall not yield to Targaryen sovereignty. Instead, we shall stand as allies, lending our support whilst retaining our autonomy. This, of course, hinges on your approval, Prince Qoren."

Your mother's face registered shock. "But that would mean you'd be separating from Dorne, becoming part of their realm, no longer ours."

“If it spares Dorne from being shackled by dragons, then I am willing to pay that price," you declared, feeling a shiver trace its way down your spine. With those words, you realized all that you were giving up. No longer would you be a daughter of Dorne; gone would be the nights spent stargazing from the ramparts, where stars seemed close enough to touch. You would miss the long walks on the ancient, stony steps, each one etched from the history of your ancestors.

Gone, too, would be the fierce embrace of the desert sun in the mornings, its rays painting the sands in hues of gold and amber. You would yearn for the sweet scent of orange blossoms, a fragrance that always seemed to hold the very essence of your homeland. Instead, you would find yourself in the capital, and it would be there, in a place far from the lands that shaped you, that you would remain until the end of your days.

My brave girl, stronger than any man in this land. A true Nymeria reborn," your mother said, her voice tinged with pride and sorrow.

You mustered a smile, though it tasted bitter on your lips. "Nymeria was never bartered to a man she did not know. She carved her own destiny, fiercely and freely."

"My girl..." your mother began, but you cut her off gently.

"It's alright, Mother. I will fulfill my role to the end," you assured her, your voice steady, but your inside twisted uncomfortably. Who were you trying to convince, her or yourself? Your mother's breath hitched at your words, she closed her eyes holding you closer as if you would become a babe again, clutching at her skirts – not nearly a woman grown, ready to be delivered into the claws of the enemy.

"Rest assured," your father added sternly, "If the dragons dare mistreat you, we will not shy away from invoking Joffrey Dayne's legacy and we will burn their city like their cursed beasts!”

A pause hung in the air before you finally asked, "Who is it that Otto Hightower has in mind for me to marry?"

"The King's second son, Prince Aemond Targaryen... the one-eyed prince.”

Next chapter

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