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thel0v3hashira143 · 5 months

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❝ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐄! ❞

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ yuuji megumi gojo nanami n choso ☆ how jjk men act when they have a crush on you!

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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ fem!reader, black coded but anyone can read

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ notes: ahhh the comeback post!! let's just say my old works were...less than coherent. but im here and ready to slay the day after 2-ish years!! take these crumbs while i try and find my footing again. stay hot lovies 🎀🎀

yuuji itadori 🌸

my babyyy (sob sob) yuuji would def try to impress you with his athleticism, bc girls like that stuff right? (gojo told him that...save him)

he frequently challenges you to friendly competitions when sparring to showing off his skills.

he def let's you get quite a few hits on him and he may even let you win from time to time (seeing your smile makes getting knocked on his ass worth it)

he might act a bit bashful, but he's straightforward. he knows he has a crush on you so why would he hide it?

expect nice gestures like him wanting to carry things for you, buying you food, watching all your fav movies, ect.

speaking of which, movie hangouts!!!

every friday usually you, megumi, nobara, and yuuji all get together and watch a movie

buuuttt if he's feeling especially brave he'll invite you to his dorm to watch the newest movie in your favorite series! (yes, he keeps track of when they come out)

he loves that it becomes y'alls thing and he loves it even more when you lay your head on his shoulder and doze off <;33

he also gives hella compliments cause something in my gut says his love language is words of affirmation.

anticipate many "isn't [name] just the coolest?" or "you look great today [name]!"

im telling you he could never run out of nice things to say to you, whether it be about your looks or personality

as soon as he realizes he likes you he takes down those pin up girl posters in his dorm

he also obviously thinks you're more beautiful than jennifer lawrence argue wit ur mama

he is also obviously a personality over looks guy so dont act surprised if you see him looking at you with a lovesick grin if he catches you doing something kind for someone

expect him to confess his feelings sooner rather than later

"yeah, why wouldn't i have a crush on [name]? shes beautiful and badass! but don't tell her, okay?"

megumi fushiguro 🌸

megumi, unlike yuuji is quite reserved, even with his friends

honestly gives no indication that he likes you at all 💀💀 he stares at you pretty intensely at first (to admire your beauty) but quickly catches on that you think its weird..

once you two get closer though, megumi would frequently express his crush through small gestures

he strikes me as a reader so i can see him recommending his favorite books to you or even lending you some of his.

you two exchange books often and he highlights quotes that remind him of you

i can also see book shop hangouts where you two sit and read together in some small bookshop he found in the city.

(he's just admiring you read)

he's not a huge compliment/affirmation guy but quality time is a big one for him

whether it be on missions, sparring, or out with the rest of the first year's, he enjoys any time he can have with you.

megumi is also very protective but like...subtly

he secretly watches out for you during missions, making sure you're safe without drawing attention to it

he'll insist you two split up but send one of his divine dogs to accompany you to wherever you go.

even when you're out and about in tokyo he always likes to stay close to you. he follows you around (not in a creepy way more like a lost puppy way)

follows you into stores you like even if he has absolutely no interest.

all in all he's just a shy guy who's whipped for you <3

"i enjoy spending time with you. a lot."

teen!satoru gojo 🌸

gojo...you bastard...(affectionate)

erm ngl i can def see him being a bully to you at first...

not like a bully bully but he def teases you a lot and it gets under your skin sometimes. (you hate him)

but in reality hes jus a spoiled litte rich boy in love.

once he realizes his feelings he still pokes fun at you sometimes, but tones it down hard and turns on his charm.

gojo's approach is confident and playful. he teases you, always with a charming grin, creating a dynamic that keeps things lighthearted and enjoyable.

he'll find excuses to spend time with you, whether it's offering to train together

unlike yuuji he doesn't care if he likes you this son of a gun will NOT let you win istg

it's like he's trying to rile you up, saying ridiculously cheesy one liners as he dodges all your attacks.

"thats the best you got? oh [name], we'll never get to be together if i keep beating you!"

one thing he does enjoy doing with you however, are snack runs.

gojo is a big back in disguise with too much money to spend so you already knows most of that goes towards food.

he has a huge sweet tooth so i can see you guys browsing multiple sweets shops in the city. if he sees you even look at something for too long he'll buy 10 of them.

every trip you guys both leave with full bellies and full hearts <3

gojo wants to be around you, and he makes sure it's fun for you both

his confession is likely to be straightforward. ccompanied by his trademark smile and his sparkling blue eyes peeking from his shades.

"you know, i've been thinking... i'm kind of into you. what do you say we make things a bit more interesting?"

teen!kento nanami 🌸

my emo boy ❤️‍🩹

nanami, with his composed demeanor, expresses his feelings (though you were unsure if he even had any) through thoughtful actions.

he remembers every. single. detail. of anything you say to him.

your favorite attist dropped an album today? he already bought you the cd/vinyl. you never got a chance to go to the store to get your favorite snack? he went 2 days ago.

he revels in the fact that he knows so much about yousnd the surprised look on your face gets him every time.

(haibara claims he's seen nanami smile at you multiple times but he vehemently denies it.)

despite his serious appearance, he'll occasionally crack dry jokes when it's just the two of you

look at that man and tell me he doesn't have a dry sense of humor 😭😭

you help him to relax and he feels he can truly be himself around you. when you two are alone its like hes showing a different side to his personality.

like megumi, i can see quality time being a big thing for him since attending jujutsu high leaves him quite busy

hes also not a huge talker so whenever you two do spend time together its probably somewhere intimate like your dorm or the library.

no words, just vibes. which he appreciates since he's around a bunch of yipper yappers all day.

nanami's confession is understated but sincere.

"i appreciate the time we spend together. it's made me realize there's something more i feel..."

choso kamo 🌸

my babyyyy no. 2 (i need him biblically)

let's get one thing straight tho. choso is a curse. in my opinion curses have no idea of love in a healthy, positive way so let's just say bb is confused.

he obviously knows what love is. he loves his brothers but he doesnt wanna kiss them...and cuddle them...

he goes to yuuji for advice (was it a bad idea? perhaps.)

"bro you totally have a crush on [name]!"

"a crush?"

after some further investigation hes pretty much got the gist of it.

one thing he becomes quite fond of doing is giving you small gifts from his missions.

these aren't typic gifts persay, like food, clothing or jewelry but more like knickknacks such as shells or rocks.

these tokens become a way for him to express what words might fail to convey.

i headcannon choso likes nature documentaries and after seeing that penguins mate for life by gifting a rock to their mate he's hooked.

idk but i also feel like he's very touchy.

he always has an eye on you in public and ik he does the thing where he guides u with his hand on the small of your back or he locks pinkies with you UGHHHH

with him being protective, he also subtly keeps an eye on you during missions.

he's not one to voice his concern directly but prefers to ensure your safety from the danger.

choso's confession might catch you off guard, but it's filled with honesty and sincerity.

"i've found myself caring about you more than I expected. it's strange..."

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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ omg i actually really like this...(watch me hate it in a week) but reqs are open!! i have 1 or 2 more pieces planned to get me in the swing of things but take this before then. love y'all!!

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐲 ♡

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𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚!

𝙘𝙤𝙥𝙮𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙡0𝙫3𝙝𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙖143 2024

#Words of the Love Hashira 💗#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuuji x reader #megumi x reader #gojo x reader #nanami x reader #choso x reader #x black fem reader #black writers on tumblr

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wkemeup · 2 years

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The Bet

summary: The agents at SHIELD have not taken well to Bucky’s pardon. When he’s injured on a mission under suspicious circumstances, you take matters into your own hands.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 7.7k

warnings: canon level violence, bucky’s internalized self-punishing issues, shield agents being real pieces of shit, badass reader who would defend bucky to the death

a/n: I know I’ve been really inactive lately (life’s actually been going well so I’ve been busier but that leaves me less time to write unfortunately), but I’m still lurking here! This is a fic I wrote several months ago but finally got around to editing it. Hope you enjoy!

Bucky wasn’t sure how you managed it – the punch to his gut every time you walked in the room. You were dressed in your tactical suit; black fabric draped over every inch of your body, protective layers of Kevlar and technology beyond Bucky’s years, a weapon strapped to your thigh and knives hidden in your belt and at your ankle. Your hair was tugged out of place, sweat beaded on your temple from the sparring match in the gym moments before the two of you were called to service. In your right hand, you carried your combat boots, the laces hanging low enough to touch the ground.

And still, Bucky held his breath as you approached. Stomach in knots, chest tightening until his heart threatened to stop entirely.

“My offer is fifty this time,” you announced, winking in his direction before you turned to head for the landing bay. “Take it or leave it, Barnes.”

It was a game you’d been playing since your first mission together. A running bet to determine the better combat fighter. You’d insisted on measuring it not by the number of Hydra agents taken down or the bullets left in the magazine at the end of the mission, but by who walked away with the least damage on their body. A competition in the lack of scars.

He suspected it was your effort to distract him, to center his mind on something other than the crushing weight on his chest as he stepped into yet another Hydra stronghold. With his pardon only coming through the official channels three months prior and the nightly news still debating whether he should be locked in a psychiatric hospital or executed for his crimes, Bucky didn’t mind a little distraction.

He wasn’t sure what to make of you at first – this woman who cared so little for the eggshells scattered around his wake. Thin, broken pieces shattered under your steps, sharp edges digging into the soles of your feet and you did not flinch. You never hesitated in your teasing, never withdrew a cautious touch from the hardened steel of his left arm, never treated him as though he were fragile or unhinged. Instead, you placed bets on the outcomes of your shared missions as if his lethality was something to respect, to admire.

Part of him wondered whether it was your attempt to keep him unharmed. The winner would have the least number of cuts and bruises – the least physical pain endured. Bucky had no problem using his body as the weapon it was designed to be, even if it meant being reckless in his own skin. It was what he’d been trained to do for decades; constantly reminded that his body was not his own to command, not his own to protect and shield. The mission came first. The mission always came first. Above his safety. Above his comfort. Above his sanity. Hydra cared little for how damaged he walked away from a fight as long as he did as he was ordered. But not you.

No, you never could seem to hide the subtle twitch of relief as he won bet after bet. How your shoulders seemed to lose the tension aching in your muscles as you handed over the winnings he did not want. Because it meant you’d lost – that you’d been injured more than he had – and Bucky wanted no part in celebrating such a win.

“I don’t want your money, Y/n,” Bucky said as he did before each mission. He fell in line beside you as rookies parted down the hallway with each approaching step. Most kept their head down, eyes averted. But not all. Some openly stared at him as if they might bore holes into his tactical suit.

“Who says I’m paying you shit?” you scoffed, a smirk edging at the corner of your mouth. “Fifty, Barnes. You on or what?”

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, fine. I’m in.”

You walked with a slight bounce in your step after he agreed and Bucky could not stop the smile as it tugged on his cheeks.

By the time you reached the quinjet, the team of agents was huddled in the loading dock awaiting orders. Steve stood with a hand leaning against the pilot’s chair, the other hooked on the font of his belt. The rest of the team – a group of highly trained SHIELD agents dressed in full combat gear tensed as Bucky followed you onto the jet.

“Thanks for joining us,” Steve welcomed sarcastically though there was humor in his grin. You rolled your eyes and held up your unlaced boots as if that would be answer enough that you were caught off guard for the unplanned mission.

“Not all of us wait eagerly outside Fury’s door for scraps of adrenaline,” you teased and tossed a wink over your shoulder at Bucky.

Steve bit his tongue to hold back a laugh. He turned to one of the agents lingering by the cockpit. “Get us in the air.”

“Yes, sir,” the agent responded and quickly jumped into the pilot’s seat.

Steve made his way to the table at the center of the jet where the building’s schematics were illuminated in three dimensional holographic lasers. Bucky exhaled a heavy breath as he followed, studying the lights as they detailed every inch of the building he would infiltrate in a matter of a few hours. He kept his right hand down by his side in an effort to not reach out and touch the floating blueprints.

“Y/n will lead Team B through the back entrance and up to the second floor,” Steve explained as he widened the schematics with a single swipe of his hand. The floor print zoomed into the level he was describing.

“Meanwhile, I’ll lead Team A through the main floor,” he continued and adjusted the visual to display the path he intended to take. “We’ll come in hot through the primary entrance. Draw as much attention as we can. That’ll give Bucky the time he needs to track down the Berlin files.”

Bucky swallowed as many of the agents turned to look at him. Steve had briefed him ahead of time on the mission so he knew he would be taking this one on his own. He knew the building better than anyone else, better than anyone who had studied the blueprints. He knew Hydra better than anyone else. Whether he was stored in this particular site was irrelevant. He understood how Hydra operated, enough to determine where they’d keep the sort of information that could bring the organization to its knees. It made the most sense.

Clinical. Rational.

“He’s going alone?” you questioned, your voice quieter than Bucky was expecting. Your focus was solely on Steve, brows knotted at the center. There was a soft waver of concern in your tone he was sure did not go unnoticed by the rest of the team. You’d seen Bucky’s right-hand curl to an aching fist enough times at the mention of his former captors. You knew the wounds were still fresh, the ink on his pardon barely dried.

Steve nodded reluctantly. “We’re going to make a lot of noise, but don’t mistake me. This is a stealth op. Giving Bucky a team is only going to slow him down.”

“You could at least give him back up,” you argued, the gentle hesitancy dropped from your tone. Your hands planted firmly on your hips. Tension coated thick into the room.

Bucky was about to step in, to put a careful hand on your shoulder and tell you he could handle himself just fine, that there was nothing to worry about. Maybe he’d crack a joke. Maybe then he could brush off your concerns and the knots in his stomach as simple worry for a reliable partner. But one of the senior agents – Hanning – cleared his throat first.

“She’s right, Cap,” Hanning said. “It’s not a good idea to send him in alone.”

You exhaled a sigh of relief, looking to Steve with a challenging smirk, but Bucky knew Hanning’s words for what they were. His stomach bottomed as he started to reach for you, to pull you back from the room before you could hear the rest of what Hanning was surely about to say. Bucky could read it on each of the agents’ faces – how they all looked down their noses at him, how thier gazes flickered to the reflection of his left arm in disgust, how they tensed the moment he stepped on board the jet. Humiliation burned hot in his cheeks before Hanning even uttered another word.

“See!” you hit Steve lightly on the arm. You grinned back in Bucky’s direction and did not see the dread weighing in his eyes. “Just give him two guys. Just enough to make sure he’s—”

“—watched. We all know the Winter Soldier can’t be trusted alone in a Hydra facility.”

You stilled at Hanning’s words. Bucky watched the edge of your jaw flicker as you clenched the muscle, your hands gripping tight to the edge of the table. Bucky wondered if it might splinter under your hold.

“Excuse me?” Venom dripped from your tongue on every syllable.

“You said it yourself,” Hanning replied with a short shrug of his shoulders, as if you had simply misheard him. “The Winter Soldier shouldn’t be left on his own. No telling what he’d do unsupervised. Especially around his old buddies.”

You flinched – actually flinched.

To Bucky, this wasn’t anything new. The serum has cursed him with heightened senses strong enough to overhear the quiet whispering when he entered the gym, the nervous murmuring of rookie agents who had grown up on ghost stories of his most prolific crimes. He noticed every frantic skip of a frightened heartbeat and every cold, seething glare of an agent whose loathing outweighed that of his fear. There was little room for anything else amongst the agents within SHEILD.

You – and only a few others among the Avengers – were the exception.

His pardon was conditional. He couldn’t afford the kind of trouble these agents were egging him into. One step out of line and he’d find himself with a lifetime sentence on the raft. Maybe that was what he deserved, but he couldn’t risk retaliating against the agents, couldn’t so much as chance a bitter word thrown back in their faces. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to admit that it was only in fear of not seeing you again that held his tongue.

Bucky had grown numb to the taunts and the stares long before he stepped foot in the tower. He knew how to keep his head down, how to swallow back his pride at the expense of his dignity. He learned how to endure the humiliation, the shame. Hydra had taught him well.

You, however, did not tolerate it.

“He can’t be trusted, Cap,” Hanning went on, turning to meet Steve’s warning stare. “We’ve lost too many guys to his friends at Hydra. I don’t care what papers the President signed. You can’t let the Winter Soldier—”

“Stop calling him that,” you hissed, pounding a fist against the table. The holographic blueprints flared in response. “I said Bucky should have support in the field. Not a fucking parole officer!”

Hanning rolled his eyes; a dangerous choice to make to mock a superior agent in front of her own team. Steam billowed from your ears as several of the agents behind him began to laugh. Hanning wiped his thumb over his bottom lip, his gaze slipping down the length of your body as if to size you up, but he lingered too long. A power move, Bucky deciphered. A means to belittle you. Bucky gritted his teeth.

“He’s a war criminal,” Hanning challenged, ignoring Bucky’s calculated step in your direction.

“He was a prisoner of war!” you shot back, voice raising on every word. “Who was pardoned, by the way!”

“You think that changes anything? A piece of paper doesn’t erase the shit he’s done. Doesn’t bring back any of the SHIELD agents he murdered. Doesn’t make him any less of fuckin’ monster and we shouldn’t have to put up with his—”

“Enough!” Steve ordered, slamming a hand down on the table. The blueprints flickered out until the table powered down. “Hanning, get your men in order. I don’t want to hear another goddamn word out of you until we’re back in New York. Y/n, walk it off. We land in an hour.”

Betrayal seethed in your eyes as your gaze whipped to Steve. You expected him to defend Bucky as fiercely as you did, but Bucky knew better, as did Steve. Steve’s involvement would only worsen the division between Bucky and the rest of the team. They’d turn themselves into martyrs; jump on their high horse and twist Steve’s defense to align with what they already believed – that the Winter Soldier was dangerous, untrustworthy, and corrupted everything he touched. Including the Avengers and SHIELD itself.

And maybe they were right, but it wasn’t a fight you had to be a part of. He worked very hard to ensure you knew little of it at all.

You clamped your jaw shut to keep yourself from handing Captain America his ass next and quickly turned on your heels. Your hand slid around Bucky’s wrist and without much resistance, you dragged him along with you to the other side of the jet. There, you sank against the bench along the frame of the cargo hold and began sliding your hands along your thighs. As he watched you, Bucky wondered if you might tear the fabric of your suit with how intensely you were digging your palms into the muscle.

“Hanning’s an asshole,” you grumbled. “Don’t listen to him. He doesn’t know shit.”

You spoke as if you believed it was an isolated incident – a single, rare occurrence he should brush off his shoulders – and perhaps you did. Perhaps you truly believed that no agent would be as brazen as to mock the former Winter Soldier to his face, but you would be wrong. Their confidence grew each time he kept his head down, each time he swallowed back the rage and humiliation at their taunts.

Bucky sighed, sinking down on the bench beside you. Your hands were still raking against your thighs, your pointed glare still finding its way to the agents huddled on the opposite end of the jet. He figured if he didn’t say something soon, you might lose the battle for your better judgements and take a swing at Hanning before the jet so much as crossed Hydra airspace.

“Make it a hundred.”

You furrowed your brow, your gaze shifting to him. Already, your features began to soften. Your hands stilled against your knees. “What?”

“The bet,” Bucky clarified, forcing a smile. It didn’t touch his eyes and it ached, but it was all he could muster. “Make it a hundred this time.”

A smirk slowly lifted the corners of your mouth and Bucky felt a weight slip off his chest.

“You’re on.”

***

“Do you want know what I’m going to do with your money when I win?”

Bucky dug his teeth into his bottom lip to repress a determined smile as your labored voice crackled through his coms. He could hear the static of the radio waves and the frequent draw of your breath as you led your team in combat on the second level. You’d learned early on to switch your coms to an off-channel frequency while you were separated. Steve was the only one who was aware of the isolated channel, but he knew better than to listen in unannounced.

“Huh, Barnes?” you challenged. He could practically see your smile edging up your cheeks. “Should I tell you how I’m going to spend your hard-earned cash?”

“You do remember you’re the one engaged in combat right now and I’m on an abandoned floor alone, right? Do you hear those odds?” Bucky smirked to himself, imagining the hard roll of your eyes as you scoffed into the coms.

“You’re not as stealthy as you think, Barnes. Maybe you’ll stub your toe on a desk. Don’t underestimate my skill against these... amateurs,” you spat the last word as if to make a point to the man you were currently barreling a fist into. “Now let me tell you how I’m going to waste your money.”

“Go on,” Bucky chuckled. He stalked through the empty hallway, passing by old offices and labs as he scanned in search of the vault in question. Hydra was rather predictable that way.

“Well,” you exhaled and clearly threw a punch at your opponent by the grunt that followed, “Sam’s birthday is coming up."

Bucky froze in his tracks; any trace of a grin wiped from his features. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Your laugh echoed in his ears and damn, if it wasn’t the sweetest sound he’d ever heard – took him right out of the Hydra facility he wandered through, out of the memories attached to the lifeless, concrete rooms, and brought levity back to his chest. How you managed to do that while fighting your way through a hoard of Hydra agents was beyond him.

He turned into a promising office at the end of the hallway. Lavish enough to be one of the higher officer’s, with priceless stolen art on the walls and a desk chair that resembled a small throne. He rolled his eyes.

“Six ahead! Erikson, McKinley! Go now!” You shot an order at one of your men before returning focus back to your side conversation with Bucky. He smiled at the sharpness of your tone – the authority, the respect you commanded. Just as easily, your tone shifted to the gentle teasing reserved only for him. “Maybe I’ll replace the side camera on Redwing you shattered in Guatamala last month.”

Bucky groaned and drew out your name in a long, exasperated tone as he began fumbling through a pile of stray papers on the messy desk. You started to laugh again and Bucky couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the ends of his mouth. It was damn near infectious.

“Fine, fine.” Your voice was breathless; either from the fight or the laughter, Bucky wasn’t sure. “I might venture a trip out to Coney Island. I hear they have life changing soft serve.”

Bucky chuckled just as he tore open a locked drawer, shifting through the contents. “You’d have a hell of a lot of cash left over.”

“Well let’s see,” you began, a short pause followed as you knocked out another combatant. Bucky could hear the thud of the body at your feet. “Two tickets on the train, two world-renown ice cream cones. It adds up, Barnes.”

Bucky furrowed his brow. A sudden unwelcomed pit formed in his stomach as he straightened his back, his hands slipping from their task at the desk. He swallowed, though his throat was dry.

“Two? Who would you—”

“Are you really telling me you don’t want to show me around your old stomping grounds?” you teased, as if he should have assumed you’d only ever been talking about him. “I can be generous with your money, Buck. I’ll even treat you to a funnel cake if you want.”

Butterflies swarmed in his stomach, his teeth gnawing at his lips to suppress the grin and the flush in his cheeks. He didn’t dare look up at the Hydra symbol painted on the wall ahead of him, but he wondered then if the memory of it might have any effect at all in the wake of your laughter through the coms.

“That so?” he managed to reply, trying to find a piece of himself from the forties that could talk to a woman without stumbling over his words. His heart was pounding. Thundering. His hands gripped the edge of the desk in effort to stop the shaking of adrenaline, but it was such a lovely feeling.

“I might even win you a stuffed animal.”

Bucky exhaled as if it might relieve the pleasant aching in his cheeks. “Those games are rigged, you know.”

“I have my tricks.”

A throat cleared at the doorway.

Bucky jolted, his hand on the trigger and safety unlatched before he got a good look at the face of the man watching him from the hallway. His smile fell as he froze – the sound of your voice calling to him through the coms went unanswered. You must have heard the sudden hitch in his breath, noticed just by the short gasp of air that something was wrong.

Hanning didn’t so much as flinch as he stared down the barrel of Bucky’s gun. His arms were folded over his chest, his shoulder leaning against the doorframe. Bucky didn’t dare wonder how long he’d been there watching. He was losing his edge. Distracted in the one place he was supposed to be clinical above all else.

Slowly, Bucky lowered the gun and latched the safety. Hanning cracked his neck to the side as six of his men emerged from the hall behind him. Bucky gritted his teeth and raised a hand to his coms.

“I’m going dark.”

No time at all passed before you argued, “don’t you dare! Not while you’re out there alone.”

Bucky kept clear watch of Hanning and the six agents slowly making their way into the room, knuckles cracking against their hips, stretching their arms. A quiet anger simmered under the surface – boiling in his veins though no steam would release him from the rage it carried.

“I found the vault,” he said, the lie slipping too easily off his tongue. “It’s heavily armored. It’ll cause interference. I’ll meet you on the jet.”

He didn’t like the short clinical statements he was giving you, as if you were little more than a handler requesting report. It wasn’t like him and you knew it.

“No. Tell me where you are. I’ll come to you.” Desperation clouded into your voice.

“I said I’ll meet you on the jet,” he replied sharply; harsher than he ever intended to be with you, but Hanning’s patience was wearing thin and Bucky would not stomach you being able to hear what was about to happen.

“Okay.” You were quieter now, your breaths more labored. Bucky’s stomach wrung in knots. “Just be careful.”

He turned off the coms before regret could sink in.

“No more Avenger in your ear now, huh?” Hanning jeered, a cockeyed smirk hanging on the left edge of his mouth. He shook his head, a darkness sinking into his features when Bucky refused to answer. “Christ. She’s just as pathetic as the groupie sluts camping outside the tower.”

“Leave her out of this,” Bucky growled. He knew full well of the crowd who chanted his name, holding picket signs in support of an innocence he wasn’t sure belonged to him. Bucky wasn’t convinced they knew much of anything about his crimes. He often wondered if they would still draw hearts around his name if they knew the volume of blood on his hands.

Hanning scoffed. “She used to be a damn good agent before you started fucking with her head, you know that? Maybe if I take her to bed next, she’ll start defending my honor, too.”

The desk cracked under Bucky’s grip; splintered under his palms. It didn’t matter that he’d never touched you in that way. Didn’t matter that he hadn’t so much as whispered a breath to the torch he carried for you. But reputation and rumor weighed stronger than truth. And Hanning didn’t seem to mind which served him best.

“We both know why you’re here, Hanning,” Bucky said, his voice taunt in the effort. “Stop beating around the bush.”

A vicious smirk warped Hanning’s features as he signaled to his men. Bucky steeled himself – an agonizing, familiar feeling – and he waited for the first blow to land.

***

Bucky took his time returning to the jet. He didn’t bother turning his coms back on after he begrudgingly tore open the vault door at the back of the office and obtained the files SHIELD was after. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to stomach the onset of questions you’d throw his way, the inevitable concern in your voice, or the lies that would slip too easily from his tongue.

You and Steve would have already returned to the quinjet by now and he was certain you were wearing a tread into the floor of the debrief room. If he closed his eyes, he might have been able to picture your arms folded tightly across your chest, the scowl creating lines down your forehead, and the hushed grumble as you muttered under your breath, eyes constantly darting back to the door in search of him.

Bucky took no pleasure in his lies. He did not enjoy the slight hitch of concern in your voice as you begged him to stay on coms. No— it tore into his chest in such a way he was left wondering if there would be anything left at all if he continued this way.

But you couldn’t know.

You couldn’t know the truth of how far men like Hanning would go to appease their fragile egos. How agents of an organization you dedicated your life to abused their power and a loophole in the system to ensure they could pull one over on the Winter Soldier in favor of bragging rights and a misguided sense of justice. You couldn’t know it wasn’t Hydra that left him bruised and battered after these missions, but instead the agents under your watch.

Bucky paused as he came up on the ramp to the back of the jet. In the vague reflection of the charcoal surface was a trail of welts and bruising covering most of his face. Red had seeped into the white of his left eye. The center of his bottom lip was split open; blood dripped down his chin and left stray droplets against the chest of his jacket. He quickly brushed his wrist against his mouth, smearing the blood onto his hand instead and made his way inside.

Hanning was standing at the edge of the debrief room as his team passed behind him. He raised his hand to you in what appeared to be a mocking salute. You did not react; your arms folded over your chest just as Bucky had imagined and an irritable glare compressed most of your features. But your eyes shifted to the bloody and broken skin on Hanning’s knuckles as his lowered his hand back to his side. You turned and watched him as he joined the rest of the agents.

Bucky swallowed and pressed the button at the mouth of the jet to retract the ramp. While you were distracted by Hanning, Bucky shook his hair into his face, keeping his head down, and made his way to the debrief room as he was required to do. He would not be able to hide the damage to his face for long, but if he could at least conceal your reaction from Hanning and the rest of the team, it might be enough to preserve what remained of his dignity.

You turned and walked back inside the debrief room and Bucky exhaled a heavy breath. As he followed shortly in behind you, he wasn’t surprised to find you had quickly resumed pacing along the back wall of the room. The carpet was slightly discolored under your path.

Only when Bucky closed the door behind him did you notice his presence.

You froze, eyes darting across the room. The relief that sank your shoulders was instant, but brief, because the moment you took in more than just his physical body safe inside the jet, a wash of anger and panic absorbed any traces of solace.

You rushed across the room to him, hands hovering over his shoulders, his forearms, his torso – as if you were seeking to touch him but would not dare to lay a hand upon his body in fear of shattering him whole. Your eyes frantically scanned the open scarring and bruising on his face, searching for more wounds you could not see.

“What the hell happened to you?” You made no effort to obscure the panic trembling in your voice.

“Hydra,” he replied shortly, the lie tasting bitter on his tongue. He looked across the room to Steve, who was standing with his back leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Reluctance clouded the blues of his eyes but he did not contradict Bucky’s story.

“There shouldn’t have been anyone on that floor. You said it was abandoned! That was the whole point of drawing them all to us. You should have been clear!” you tried to reason and shot a glance at Steve to confirm, but his gaze lowered to the floor. You pinched the bridge of your nose as you turned your attention back to Bucky. “Did you get the files at least? Since you insisted on turning off your damn coms to get them?”

Your anger was a mask. Bucky could tell that much for certain by how your eyes shifted consistently to the blood in his left eye and the split on his lip. Fear was not an emotion you took kindly to, especially a fear you had no means of controlling.

Bucky steeled his features the best he could and pulled the rolled file from the inside pocket of his jacket. Blood stained the corners of the crumpled folder and he set it on the table behind you. You did not seem even remotely satisfied by its presence.

“Why wouldn’t you just tell us you’d been compromised?” you argued, shoving the folder further down the table. “I could have sent back up to you! Dammit Bucky, I would have come to you myself! You know I would have!”

Steve cleared his throat as he stepped away from the wall, a pleading heaviness filling his eyes as his head shifted towards you – a means of begging Bucky to come forward with the truth. You deserved as much, didn’t you? You cared for him for reasons beyond what Bucky could comprehend. But there would always be that sliver of doubt; that sickening voice in the back of his mind that questioned whether you might think he deserved the retaliation he got. Bucky only shook his head at Steve to warn him into silence.

Your eyes narrowed on him, gaze following his path to Steve and back. Your instincts were not something Bucky should tread lightly around if he was intent on keeping this from you, and yet – there was some ache of relief to see the questions spinning behind your eyes, the stubbornness drawn to the surface to simply accept his ruse and pretend as though he wasn’t beaten into submission.

Just as you parted your lips, you paused; your attention caught on the monitors just beyond Bucky’s shoulder. Upon one of the screens, Hanning was dramatically mimicking a fight scene to the entertainment of the surrounding agents. The video carried no sound but it was not easy to mistake the arrogant grin upon Hanning’s face as he showed off the bloodied cuts on his knuckles. Bucky resisted touching the bruise along his jawline.

Bucky watched as you slowly moved closer to the monitor, studying every muscle in your body as you deciphered what you were seeing. Perhaps he might have been able to play it off as another one of Hanning’s pathetic attempts at boosting his ego by dramatizing a basic combat training move against a weak-willed Hydra agent, but while some of the agents looked to Hanning as if he were a god among men, some carefully – fearfully – looked over their shoulders to the debrief room. As if they were awaiting retaliation. Or punishment.

Bucky swallowed bile as your spine suddenly went taunt. A gasp drew in a sharp breath to your lungs as you quickly turned to Bucky for confirmation. Suddenly he couldn’t speak – not with the way your eyes were pleading with him to deny it. You turned to Steve next and it only took a second before you saw the weight in his eyes, the truth he’d been hiding at the will of his best friend – how it ate away at him until there was little left. Your hand clasped over your mouth.

“I’ll be outside,” Steve said quietly, sending an apologetic look in Bucky’s direction.

When the door closed behind him, you turned back to Bucky, waiting for him to say something – anything – to help you understand what happened. Hanning was an asshole, but to do something like this was unheard of. To attack a member of their own team under the ruse of a mission...

And maybe he should have confessed everything then and there, but his own fears were too strong – the possibility you might laugh in his face and side with Hanning, that you might believe him to be as vile and violent as the rest of them, undeserving of a second chance.

So instead of an explanation, he reached into his back pocket and watched as your face contorted into something akin to horror and grief as he handed you a crumbled hundred-dollar bill. His hand trembled as he extended it to you.

“What are you doing?” Your voice was barely a whisper; gaze fixated on the speckles of blood on the corners and under his nails.

Bucky released a breath, though it burned on his exhale. “You won.”

You looked as though you might suffocate under the silence that sank into the room. Tears blurred into your eyes as you slowly took the bill from him, your fingertips lingering against his hand, and tossed it onto the table behind you as if the paper had burned you.

“I don’t care about the stupid bet, Bucky! I don’t... I don’t want your money! I never wanted your money. Not ever,” you told him, voice shaking. You clenched your right hand into a fist as if it might quell the lump building in the back of your throat. “How long has this been happening?”

Bucky’s own throat was coated in gravel. “It doesn’t matter.”

“So, it has happened before.”

His stomach bottomed as he realized he’d given himself up. You were always too smart for him, too smart to fall for this pathetic ruse. He should have known better than to think he could keep this from you. He prepared himself for your anger, for your disappointment, for your mockery, but instead something akin to guilt sank into your features and Bucky swore his knees might give out entirely.

“Our own men have gone after you like this... they’ve beaten you on these missions, reported it off as field injuries, and I... I just didn’t know?”

You brushed at your tears. Bucky suddenly felt nauseous.

“This isn’t your fault,” he said quickly, giving up on any attempts at concealing his lies further. He could not stand for you to think that you played a single role in this mess. This was on him. Only him. You were only ever the light in his darkest days. You could not hold an ounce of blame for what happened. He wouldn’t allow it.

“You were in the med bay last month,” you realized suddenly, an awful mix of remorse and agony coating your features. “You were separated from the team when you were jumped. You said... You said it was Kingpin’s men but... it wasn’t, was it? SHIELD agents put you there. They were the ones who attacked you.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, his hand curling tightly to a fist as if that might stop the trembling. “This isn’t your burden to carry. I can take care of myself.”

“Not my burden?” you scoffed. “Look at you! Jesus, Buck. How is this even possible? You should be able to take these assholes on without breaking a sweat! I’ve seen you spar. I’ve fought alongside you. I know what you can do! Hanning barely has a scratch on him. You should have been able to knock him on his ass without—”

You froze and slowly, your shoulders sank.

“God,” you exhaled, the realization shattering every inch inside your chest as you met his eyes. “You don’t fight back. You can’t, can you? Your pardon. It’s—”

“—conditional,” Bucky sighed and ran a hand through his matted hair. “One word to the council that I’ve stepped out of line and they could revoke it. I could end up on the raft for the rest of my life. And maybe... maybe I belong there anyway but I’m trying to better. To right the wrongs I’ve done. To... to be on the right side of things again. I can’t do that from behind bars. And if word got out I’m throwing punches at the good guys, that’s exactly where I’ll end up.”

“I won’t let that happen,” you swore, wasting no time in your promise. Before he realized it, you were standing only inches from him, your fingertips gently tracing the golden lines on his left hand. He wondered then how he could have ever feared mockery and disgust from a woman who touched him so tenderly.

A tired smile tugged at his broken lip. “Steve doesn’t even have the power to intervene if it came to that. Let this go, Y/n. I can take a few punches if it means getting a chance to start over.”

You winced at his words, clenching your jaw as if to choke back a sob. “You can’t keep letting them do this to you. I won’t let you.”

“What would you have me do?” Bucky asked, his voice absent of anger or challenge. It simply carried the heaviness of defeat, of acceptance. “You know what would happen if I gave the council a single reason to doubt which side I’m on. My hands are tied.”

He realized his mistake the moment a deadly calm swept over you. Clarity, like standing under the eye of storm. Your gaze darted to the monitor where Hanning was still mimicking his fight with Bucky.

“Y/n, wait!”

But you were already halfway out of the room. You did not turn back at Bucky’s plea as you stormed around the corner of the short stretch of hall and into the primary deck of the quinjet. Steve straightened from his position leaning against the wall, his eyes darting behind you where Bucky was quickly following behind. But it was not Steve you’d come in search of.

Hanning was laughing with a hoard of his men, gathered around the holograph table worth more than any of their miserable lives combined. He rolled his eyes at the sight of you, making a mockery of the fury raging into every line upon your face as you sought him out as he swatted his buddy on the arm.

The bastard even had the unearned arrogance to smirk as he foolishly turned his attention to Bucky. “Enlisting your girlfriend to fight your battles for you, huh?”

You did not so much as slow your pace, did not draw in a full breath or acknowledge the slight furrow in Hanning’s brow before you threw a punch directly to his left cheekbone. He cursed as he jolted away from you, hands flying to his face as blood began to gush down his nose.

“What the fuck is wrong with—”

You didn’t give him time to finish before you grabbed a firm hold of his collar and tossed him to the floor. Agents scrambled out of your warpath as you stalked after him.

Hanning looked up at Steve, holding onto his broken nose. Blood seeped from between his fingers. “Do something!”

Steve did not avert his gaze as he replied, “I didn’t see anything.”

Hanning’s eyes widened as you dropped to your knees beside him and fisted his collar. “Sergeant Barnes may not be able to fight back without breaking his pardon, but I sure as hell can. And unlike you, I don’t need my fights rigged to win. Lay a hand on him again and I’ll ensure you walk away from your next mission on a fucking stretcher!”

Hanning clawed at your grip, fear seeping through every line upon his face. “You can’t threaten me!”

“Wanna bet?” Your nails nearly tore through the Kevlar fabric of Hanning’s shirt. “I’m an Avenger, asshole. You’re no one. I can make sure you’re transferred to the furthest corner of this planet. You’ll wish you were in space with the tree and the goddamn racoon!”

Hanning’s panicked eyes darted back to Steve who only shrugged and turned his attention to the passing of clouds outside the cockpit windows.

Bucky couldn’t help the smirk as it tugged at his mouth. He folded his arms firmly over his chest, sinking back into his stance. This image of you – baring your teeth, vicious in every muscle, seething in defense of him – was one he would commit to memory. He’d return to it in his darkest hours when he could find no answer for the cruel voices in the back of his mind – to draw upon this moment to chase away his demons with your anger and protection.

“Are we clear?” you ordered when Hanning was too stunned to respond. He nodded frantically, as did the rest of the crew. You released Hanning’s collar and he fell to the ground with a heavy thud. He stayed still as stone as you slowly rose to your feet and brushed off his blood on the thighs of your pants.

Your chest heavy and steady – each breath longer than the last. You did not tear your eyes away from Hanning for even a second, ensuring he felt every ounce of the rage burning inside of you.

Bucky took a step forward, unbothered by the stares of the agents as he approached you. He set a hand on your shoulder, instantly noting the rigid tension in your muscles.

“Come with me,” he requested, his voice quiet enough only you could have heard him. You expelled a breath as if it were made of fire and slowly followed him from the room.

Bucky stepped inside the debriefing room first. He looked to the windows where clouds were passing by below the jetstream. Steady. Even. He took as much of their calm as he could manage and picked up the crumpled hundred dollar bill from the table. When he turned to face you again, he attempted to hand you the money but you held your hands up defensively and took a cautious step backward.

“Bucky, no. Please, I don’t want it,” you resisted, your voice hollow and pained. “I only made the stupid bet to get you to stop being so reckless. I don’t want your money.”

He smiled at your stubbornness, at your scheming means to keep him safe. Bucky inched closer to you, extending his left palm up until you cautiously set your hand in his. His thumb drew a careful line along your palm and you watched him with such startling precision, he wondered if you might have been committing the feeling to memory.

“What happened to our plans for Coney Island?” he asked softly.

Tears spilled over your cheekbones as a tired laugh escaped you. He pressed the bill into your palm and closed your grip around it – holding it tight at the center of your hand as gently as you might his own heart.

“I should have said something the first time it happened,” Bucky said quietly, his gaze still fixated on your closed fist resting on his palm. “I’m sorry I didn’t.”

You shook your head. “You don’t need to apologize for anything.”

“No, I do.” He sighed, concentrating on the smooth skin of your hand. He skimmed his thumb along the tender skin on your knuckles, his heart suddenly heavy in his chest. “You didn’t even hesitate to defend me. Didn’t even second guess why they might have gone after me. You... you didn't question if I deserved it.”

Your face slacked at his admission. “Bucky...”

“I should have told you,” he repeated despite the burden of grief in your voice. He knew now that if he’d offered you a share of this weight from the start, that maybe it wouldn’t have gotten this far. Hanning wouldn’t have planned each mission to ensure he cornered Bucky on his own and got in enough swings to fuel his pathetic, sheltered ego. Maybe Bucky wouldn’t have spent so long believing this was his penance.

You lifted your free hand to the side of his face, gently settling against the bruising to cup his cheek. He closed his eyes, sinking into the feeling. Your thumb brushed along a tender ache on his cheekbone but there was no pain under your touch.

“I know now,” you told him softly, “and it won’t ever happen again.”

Bucky smiled though it tugged at the split on his lip. “I know.”

You lowered your hand from his face and gently pushed the hundred-dollar bill back towards him. “Take this back, Buck. Take it back and promise we’ll still go to Coney Island.”

Bucky closed his fist around the crumpled bill and slowly nodded. You did not release his hand. You did not pull away. You only held him – touched him as though you could not stand to pull away from him.

“I swear it,” he exhaled, his gaze still fixated on your hands.

You sighed, relief slipping through your body as you smiled at him. “Think you can win me a giant bear?”

Bucky chuckled and he didn’t mind when the split on his lip ached as he smiled. “Should we bet on it?”

---

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes X you #bucky barnes one shot

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daily-dose-of-imagines · 20 days

Text

The Badass that she is!

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@sacredwarrior88 asked: May I please request headcanons for Zoro, Sanji, and Ace reacting to their girlfriend having a badass martial arts fight with an enemy and kicking major ass?

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Hello and thank you for requesting with us! I do hope you enjoy this!

- Admin T

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Zoro:

He would be one proud man, to see you kicking as much ass as you are, and so efficiently!

He knows not to help or worry about you as he fights his own battle.

He isn't surprised when you win almost every battle you are in, and how you do so easily.

Zoro would swell with pride and adorn a small smile on his lips as he easily cut down his opponents and enemies.

As you use your skills to take your enemies and Zoro takes down his, he would come up to you and tell you how well you doing, and how amazing you are in his own way.

When nobody was looking, he'd give you a kiss on the cheek and whisper in your ear that he couldn't wait to spar with ou later.

Sanji:

Unlike Zoro, Sanji would be more boisterous in his reaction to you kicking some ass with your amazing martial art skills.

He would whoop and holler, "You go, baby!" with a huge smile. He wouldn't even bat an eye to the enemies he was winning against, never taking his hands out of his pockets.

When you have one enemy a lethal roundhouse kick to the chest while simultaneously punching another in the face, Sanji would react with a resounding, prideful yell of amazement.

Sanj would be very affectionate afterward, telling you just how much he is proud of you and much of you a turn-on you are to him whenever you are kicking ass.

Afterward, you won't be able to escape his grasp of love!

Ace:

Ace would be a mix of Sanji and Zoro!

His reactions wouldn't be as boisterous as Sanji's were, but not as quiet as Zoro's would be.

Using his flaming fists to fight his opponents, he would see you in his peripheral kicking major ass with our skilled martial techniques.

You wouldn't even bat an eye as more enemies rushed toward you.

Ace would be scared for you the first time, but once he sees that you can hold your own, he would leave you to it.

He'd feel a little sorry for the people that you pummel into the ground, but oh so amazed and proud and how strong you are.

And in his head, he has to remind himself to never get on your bad side, lest he also get pummeled into the ground by your fists!

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#one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece imagines #sanji x reader #ace x reader #zoro x reader #sanji headcanons #ace headcanons #zoro headcanons #one piece #zoro x you #sanji x you #reader inserts #x reader

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howtofightwrite · 3 months

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Is it possible for a character who is 18cm shorter and not as muscled as their opponent to pin said opponent to the ground in a few calculated moves? Both characters are fit and exercise regularly, but the shorter character has trained in various martial arts (with and without weapons) and the taller one is more proficient in sword duelling. My intent is to write a sparring scene where the shorter character humbles the (overconfident) taller one. Any specific martial arts I should look at?

So... being shorter doesn't matter. In fact, in this situation, it is an advantage.

I'm going to point out here that if you're not careful, your character that you want to have a badass moment is going to look like an complete asshole because they are humiliating another character who they actually are better than. If they haven't been trading off humiliations to build tension (safely so no one gets hurt) then you're going to have a lopsided “sparring” session. Or, you will, if you haven't been building up your narrative to support the humbling. (And there is a lot that goes into these scenes to make them work, which, if you're not familiar with how martial arts training works then you'll approach it from the wrong mindset and hit Starke's pet peeve.)

Let's hit the ground running with the high points:

Sparring is not dueling.

Sparring is not play fighting.

Sparring is not so you can humiliate your opponent.

Sparring is not about fighting anyone or anything.

Sparring is a training exercise so that both of you can work on improving specific techniques.

Do people in real life get carried away sparring? Yes, they do. Are they complete competitive idiots about it? Yes, they are. Do they get punished for it? Absolutely, they do. This is especially true where they'll be expected to put their lives on the line. Treating violence like a game is detrimental, and leaves the trainee ill-prepared for dealing with real danger when in the field. Make no mistake, that is exactly the mindset you are describing in this question. Your characters (at least your minor ones, the trainers in this situation if your leads are too young or too dumb to comprehend their reality) should care about stomping this attitude out. And you as the author should to. Why? Because if you don't take the violence in your narrative seriously neither will your audience.

There are rules, as a writer it's imperative you establish the rules (and there no rules means you haven't established them for violence in your setting and therefore won't be able to establish the baseline that can be built upon later) and one of the rules is that you're not going to spar someone with a weapon (wood or otherwise) unless you both have weapons. There's not a lot of value in having one character spar with a weapon and one spar without one unless it's a knife, and the point is learning the dangers of knife fighting. And knives make sense because they are in the same distance range as fists. Swords are in a completely separate distance category. They are mid-range weapons.

You don't practice disarms by sparring, you practice disarms by practicing disarms in a controlled setting where you're repeating the motion over and over. Can you humiliate a person by being good at practice disarms? Yes. You do it by being a complete dick. It also requires the character in question to be better at the moves in question than the other character performing them because they need to be able to confidently, or at least believe they can, counter the other person's growing anger while taking the move a step further or two than they're supposed to. It also means they can get away with it without arousing the suspicions of their instructor (or act with their instructors approval) and no one gets hurt. (We hope.) For a character to do this is a sign of overconfidence, FYI. As is trying to humiliate someone in a sparring session. The characters that are good enough? They don't do it.

In fiction, good sparring scenes serve one real purpose. They establish a baseline of skill in safe setting so the audience becomes comfortable only for that to be disrupted and thrown into chaos when the characters encounter real violence. There's two paths for this. Either the character is a big winner only to be brutally beaten later, or they get dumped on their ass to find that they're actually much better prepared than they thought later when it matters. That's why so many stories with these scenes dump their MC on their ass, especially in any Wuxia or Shounen manga. This is because the authors of these stories understand that sparring has no reflection on how well a person will do when they're allowed out of the training safe space. If your baseline is: my character is awesome. Then it's all downhill from that point on.

Say it with me, Losses Create Tension. If your character is winning all the time, you have no tension and your fight scenes will be boring. The goal when it comes to creating a character who is good at fighting is to make other characters look better. Or, from an antagonistic/mentor point they exist to establish the height our MCs must eventually reach/how much further they have to go in their journey. Kakashi's fight with Zabuza or the first fight between Itachi and Sasuke in Naruto are both great examples of how to do this well.

I'm not saying you can't write a sparring scene like the one you intend. I can't tell you to do anything, what I want to you to start doing is considering the implications of the scene, what it may say about your world and characters that you didn't intend, and it's overall impact on the whole of your narrative. Narrative gratification here is work you'll need to do to build back your tension later. Is it a win your MC can afford?

Now, you can look at any martial art that has a ground fighting component for what you want to do unless you're planning on having the duelist spar with their sword. If you want that, you're going to have to do a lot more work with a smaller pool. This will be doubly true if your characters are of European descent and you want to avoid the East Asian martial art styles.

Type: “how do you knock your opponent off balance?” into Google and you'll find a lot of variations.

The basic concept behind putting someone on the ground isn't strength, it's balance. The key is disrupting your opponent's balance. If you're skilled enough or your opponent's footwork is bad enough, it can be done in a single move. In fact, it can be done a variety of different ways from a variety of different moves from countless different martial arts. The question isn't can it be done, the question is how does your character want to do it? The fact they are short only helps them because their center of gravity will be lower than their opponent's, they don't have to work as hard to maintain their balance, their stance doesn't have to be as deep, and they will have an easier time knocking a taller person over. Most people who've never practiced martial arts have no idea how foundational the footwork is or how important the feet are to staying upright.

I personally like reviewing Silat for studying balance, not necessarily for techniques, but because I find their instruction on the concept easy to grasp/digest. They do the string on the top of the head and the balance triangle, which if you can wrap your mind around that you'll be able to conceptualize fight scenes where the character focuses on knocking an opponent off balance better.

The above is a more advanced video, but if you have no martial arts background or even a sports background whatsoever then you want to aim for instructional videos that focus on concepts over techniques. The advice is always write what you know and if you don't know learn. Copying techniques onto the page won't create a great fight scene. Understanding the concept, philosophy, and basic body mechanics behind the techniques will get you much further. None of them are stand ins for real experience or doing it yourself. If you really want to be good at it, find a martial art you like, find a school nearby, and invest the time.

All of your characters' martial arts moves (whether they are dueling with a sword or fighting hand to hand) function around the body's center of gravity. Your center of gravity is slightly above your hips and in your core muscles i.e your abdominal muscles. They will be trained so maintaining their balance is second nature. When martial artists talk about overextending, they're talking about putting your weight past your balance point which puts you in danger of losing your balance/falling over or being grabbed, kicked, etc and getting thrown, tripped, or forced into a fall. This can happen when you're throwing a punch, doing a kick, lunging with your sword, or doing any other sort of movement. You end up in a position where your balance between your front and back leg is destabilized, which creates the opening for your opponent to throw you. Or when you fall over on the ice, because that happens too.

Some other martial arts to turn to:

Judo

Jiu Jutsu

Aikido

Baguazhang (Seen in Avatar the Last Airbender as the basis for Air Bending)

Tai Chi Chuan

Northern Shaolin

Taekwondo (if you want to do it via kicks, all kicking martial arts innately focus on balance)

Krav Maga

Ninjutsu

The list goes on.

I also recommend dipping your toes into live action martial arts flicks to start getting yourself accustomed to more complex choreography. This is getting yourself out of the animated space (like in anime) and into the space where you have to watch a live person perform the techniques. Asian cinema has a different choreography style than the US does, because there are different cultural expectations. Overall, the choreography is more intricate and they break the action down a lot more (as opposed to American media where they zoom out to cover for the stunt double.) It's easier to see how the bodies are working and they put a lot more focus on destabilizing balance as part of the fight sequences. Hollywood doesn't get into the weird martial arts shit unless it's an actual martial arts action film. You can also do an Avatar the Last Airbender/Legend of Korra deep dive because the action there is also usually on point, but I'm a proponent of going to the source when you want to learn something. So, you know watch Alchemy of Souls instead.

-Michi

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#writing reference #writing advice #writing tips #how to fight write #michi answers #martial arts #sparring

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heart4reigns · 1 year

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Could i request a roman and afab reader imagine, where she’s like a sexy badass bitch and she’s been his like valet/girlfriend ever since he returned as the tribal chief. A lot of people think she’s for looks and can’t fight, then during a promo with the judgement day she beats Rhea’s ass. It like shocks everyone, and roman’s just like hell yea that’s my girl and loves it. Lol thank you!🩷🩷🩷

TROPHY WIFE, roman reigns.

warnings: curse words, blood, pet names

tags: locker room talks, everyone teases you, slight age-gap, bloodline bonding moments, dominik calling you 'papi', sexual innuendos teehee, judgement day teasing YOU non-stop

summary: you’re not useless at all

GROWING up, you were always interested in the wrestling. but you couldn't imagine being in the ring without any experiences. that led you to training on your own. to your luck, your boyfriend–roman, was the undisputed champion of the wwe. ever since his big comeback as this chief-like figure, it made you easier to be on stage without talking. you just stood by his side, staring down at the other party, trying to intimidate them for the views.

no one actually knew that you were going to debut soon as one of wwe's new wrestler, except for the bloodline. for now, you were only a 'trophy wife' for the tribal chief. everyone in the locker room teased you about being there as his silly little girlfriend, you were only there for the looks. "morning!" you greeted the twins, before sliding inside the ring. "one more show before your debut, how you feeling?" solo asked.

"i'm excited." you stretched your body, preparing for the fight with jimmy. "i'm not, i don't want to get my ass beat by you." he shook his head. "oh come on, i don't hit hard." you chuckled. "girl, you hit harder than anyone else here!" jimmy complained. "that's because she's been doing this longer than us." your boyfriend stood outside the ring, winking at you. "right, now let's go!"

and everyone in the gym knew that you were going to beat jimmy's ass in a quick sparring. "good fight, baby!" roman was pumped up. "see, i told you. jimmy's gonna be limping for the next two days." jey ruffled his twin's hair. "shut up, get inside the ring with her now." "oh, i don't want that, i have a family!" he shook his head. "GET YOUR ASS HERE!" you grinned with excitement.

work came and you were mentally preparing to face the judgement day. they were nice people but there were two people that got into your nerves; none other than dominik and rhea. they were around your age, of course they would tease you non-stop. "hey papi." he winked at you when you enter the locker room. "shut up." you rolled your eyes. "awww, you look so cute being alone." rhea chimed in the conversation. "i'll whoop your ass, rhea." she smirked at your response. "the trophy wife can fight?" "come on, that's enough." damien came in to stop the teasing.

as much as you wanted to tell them that you were going to be in the roster, you couldn't. creatives were holding you back from spilling the news. a lot of people loved you, but some thought you were useless. you were just there to look pretty. "you alright, baby?" roman noticed your annoyed expression. "dominik and rhea situation." he chuckled. "don't mind them, they're jokesters." you nodded in agreement.

before walking out, roman quickly kissed your forehead. "let's do this, baby." he muttered. the crowd roared with excitement as they heard roman's entrance song. you pulled off your usual smug facade, ready to face whatever dominik and rhea throws at you. as the four of you walked towards the ring, you heard several people calling your name. "(y/n)!" you threw a wink at them, causing them to go frantic. "god, she's so badass, i wish she was a wrestler. just imagine her in a wrestling gear." one of them said, you were trying your best not to chuckle and break character. oh, they would be very ecstatic to know what's coming, you thought.

to say the least, this was the 'feud' with the judgement day was fun. the new storyline on how you were taunted to join them was a breath of fresh air for the fans. when you first heard about it, you were also excited. they seemed like good people to work with, oh how wrong you were. knowing that you couldn't 'defend' yourself, everyone loved pranking and teasing you. "so, this is the tribal chief?" finn had the mic. "and you should be thankful that he is here in person, to see you all." the crowd cheered as they heard roman's response. "with his wiseman, his silent cousin, and his trophy wife, what a deal!" rhea yelled into the microphone.

"we're still waiting for everyone to betray you. the next time you'll see us, your little trophy wife will sign our contract. or give us your titles. loyalty doesn't exist." rhea smirked, the crowd boo-ed as she waved the papers. you had the mic and you stared down at the opposite group. "i won't be joining you, and you said loyalty doesn't exist? that's right. let's ask who created your group? is he still here?" several 'oooh's dropped as you saw rhea's eyes lit up. another strong girl in the ring, she thought.

the locker room smelt like sweat. you were used to it. "god, i'm so tired." you complained to solo, who was putting on his shoes. "can't wait for you to complain after every match." he chuckled. "you know, it's such a shame that your mic skills are being wasted, could've been an amazing wrestler, papi." dominik came inside the room, all sweating. "stop calling me 'papi', jesus." you chuckled. "i'll stop calling you 'papi' if you hang out with us soon." solo couldn't help but to laugh at dominik's sentence.

the remaining week was spent inside the gym. you were training non-stop for your debut. at one point, you had probably beat all the guys inside the gym, leaving roman last. everyone gathered around the ring, waiting for you to charge at him. "COME ON (Y/N), GIVE HIM HELL!" jey yelled. sure he was a loving boyfriend, but in the ring? another different person.

"baby, hit me with your best shot." roman was challenging you. "don't go soft on me." you warned him. "oh, i won't." your boyfriend smirked. you gritted your teeth, trying to find a spot to attack him first. before he lunged at you, you step aside to avoid him. you weren't stronger than him, but with your figure, you were obviously faster. he landed on one of the ropes, turning his back, facing you again.

but before he knew it, you attacked him with a spear. "DAMN GIRL!" jimmy shouted. you tackled roman to the ground, breathing heavily as he tried to switch places. "did you just speared me?" he asked. "i just did." roman clenched his jaw, trying to find a spot to attack you. you dodged it once again, going to the ropes. "you're going nowhere, baby!" the entire gym was pumped out.

you stood up on the ropes, ready to attack again. "FROG SPLASH HIS ASS!" you heard solo's voice. "OH WE'RE NOT GOING TO DO THAT AGAIN!" roman looked concerned. "DO IT! DO IT!" the twins chanted. "I'M SORRY, BABY!" you apologized before your attack. his entire body bounced back. "what a sell, baby." you chuckled. while being distracted on how he looked, which was very hot and sweaty, he took the chance to flip you over. "aw hell no." you muttered.

roman was on top of you, you struggled to move your body–but like usual, you were faster than him. you licked your lips, ready for another attack. "shit girl, you never run out of energy do you?" solo asked, analizing your stamina. the fight was almost done, you just had to make him tap out. with your agility, you could tell roman was getting tired. "how are you so fast?" roman was gasping for air. "you taught me that." you winked at him. the gym whistled over your answer.

"i can't believe you made me tap out." he chuckled, snuggling closer to you. the two of you were already home, chilling on the bed. "hey, you might be bigger than me, but i can definitely flip you." you rolled your eyes. "and that's what i love about you, you're fearless." he kissed your forehead. "god, i can't wait till tomorrow is over." you confessed. "nervous, are we?" he asked. "course i am." you sighed.

"i don't know, what if people don't care about me? like what if i'm only meant to just be a pretty face." his eyes softened. "baby, you know that everyone loves you right?" roman held your hand. "you'd be the brightest superstar out there, love." even in the darkest times, his words made you smile. "on the good side, we're gonna spend more time together. i look forward to it, baby." roman patted your head, trying to calm you down. "i love you, thank you for believing in me." "i'll always believe in you, baby."

you saw fans lining up outside the venue. paul thought it would be a good idea for the bloodline to go out and meet some fans. so there you were, with the other four, interacting with fans. "(y/n)!" one of them greeted you. "hi hello! thank you for coming today." you passed her a water bottle. "(y/n), god, when are you debuting? i'd love to see some ring action." one of them asked you. "i'm not a wrestler, babes." you told him, giving another bottle of water.

roman was holding your hand the entire time, not wanting you to let go. "wait i gotta take a pee." he said. "go piss girl." you chuckled at your own response. your boyfriend rolled his eyes and excused himself. you entered the locker room with your heart beating faster than usual. no one was inside, you arrived early to change to your new gear. you put on your usual black shirt, covering the gear for the surprise. "sup, papi?" dominik's voice startled you. "oh, good evening to you too." you greeted him. "got the script for today it says get ready for a special surprise attack, damn papi... are you the surprise?" he asked.

"well, let's just see."

you went over to roman's locker room, seeing him gearing up. by gearing up, he was taking off his t-shirt. you whistled your way inside. "you single?" you teased him. "depends who's asking." he teased back. "you look good." you complimented him. "i always do. let me see your gear." he winked at you. you took off the t-shirt and he returned with a whistle. "red and black is definitely your color, baby." he held your waist and kissed your lips. "it's your pick, handsome."

"damn, hope i'm not interrupting something, but we're up in 10." and that moment was ruined by none other than jimmy uso. "(y/n), your gear looks amazing!" roman glared at his cousin and closed the door. "give us 5 more minutes!" he yelled from inside the room. "now where were we?"

the crew ushered you backstage. you felt adrenaline rushing in your veins, you were no longer nervous. this is what you've always wanted and you had the privilege to pursue it. the judgement day went up first, rhea and dominik casually messing with you. "can't wait for the surprise!" dominik chuckled. "oh fuck yourself, mysterio!" you smiled at him.

"the bloodline!" smug face mode on, you thought. the 6 of you walked towards the ring, hearing the crowd go wild. you were the one holding roman's belt. he offered a hand and you gave him his belts so he could make his signature pose. as you stepped inside the ring, rhea was already holding the papers.

the promo started. "so, you're either gonna give us your trophy wife or your title, your pick, tribal chief." rhea mocked him. "your time is up, give us your trophy wife now." she continued. "we are not gonna give you anything." roman replied. "either you walk away or we walk away. leaving you standing here, embarrassed. having nothing in your hands." he was in his character and he looked so hot.

"see, there are 3 things that i love in life." the crowd chanted 'what?' as roman spoke to the mic. "first is (y/n). i wouldn't trade her for anything. second is my titles. third is seeing people like you thinking that you could get away with anything you want." he smirked. "and we're not signing your goddamn papers." he dropped the mic. it was your cue to walk away now.

as you walked hand-in-hand, rhea went over her lines. "walk away! like you always do! a useless group with an even more useless advocates!" roman looked at you, giving you the biggest smile that the camera couldn't capture. "go, babygirl." everyone was still walking back but you turned around. you caught everyone's attention.

roman's song changed to yours. "what is this? why is (y/n) running back to the ring?" the commentator said. the crowd roared as you ripped your shirt, revealing your gear. "what? that's a wrestling gear! can you believe it? the trophy wife is in a wrestling gear!" you slid inside the ring, quickly attacking the first person you saw. finn. he was practically grinning from ear-to-ear, excited.

you jumped and punched his jaw, avoiding certain spots that could damage him. the judgement day had an excited expression plastered on their faces; especially dominik and rhea. "bring it on, trophy wife!" dominik yelled. you quickly speared him outside the ring, causing him to fall on his back. "and you're fast!" damien smiled, trying to take a hit on your shoulders, only having you avoid it. "i am!" you smirked, using roman's iconic move–superman punch, against him.

rhea stood in the middle of the ring, ready to attack you. "so you're not useless at all, huh?" she stared down at you. "is she going to attack rhea? how is she going to survive her?" the commentator yelled. to your luck, you were able to dodge multiple hits. rhea tripped a bit, giving you several seconds to spare. you quickly picked her up and slammed her on her back. you looked over her, she gave you a small nod, indicating that she was okay.

your song played and there you were, in the middle of the ring–with a grin plastered on your face. "did we just witness the debut of the trophy wife?" one of the announcer said. "and there she is, the long-waited debut... what should we call her? the trophy wife? (y/n) (l/n)!" everyone cheered and stood up from their seat. you were gasping for air, raising your fist up. "(y/n)! (y/n)!" the crowd chanted.

"that's my babygirl!" roman yelled as he ran back to the ring and tackled you with a hug. roman picked you up on his shoulders, showing you off to the crowd. "i love you." you mouthed. "and i love you too." oh his expression is gonna end on a 'top 10 times roman reigns breaking character' video, you thought. nevertheless, this was only the beginning for you.

a/n: SORRY IF THIS IS QUITE LONG I GOT CARRIED AWAY... HOPE YOU ENJOY IT <3 feedbacks are appreciated and requests are always open for any other wwe wrestlers!!

#roman reigns #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns x reader #wwe imagines #wwe #cody rhodes #the usos #paul heyman #judgement day #dominik mysterio #rhea ripley #finn balór #damien priest #wwe x reader #wrestling imagines #roman reigns imagines #wrestling #jimmy uso #jey uso

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justabrunettewhowrites-stuff · 5 months

Text

'Sunshine'

Clarisse La Rue x DaughterOfApollo!Reader hc's

A/N: I was bored so I decided to do some hc's on Clarisse x reader as my first post.The new episodes had me fr.These are just random hc's I thought of,don't come for me.

OKAY, SO I FEEL LIKE Clarisse would totally act all tough and stuff, but secretly she's a total softie for her girlfriend! AHAHSHDH, here are some headcanons:

She deff calls you "Sunshine" as a teasing nickname, but lowkey smiles when she says it.

Clarisse would totally deny being romantic, but she LOVES taking you on late-night walks around camp.

I feel like she would brag about you to the other Ares kids,smth like "Yeah, my girl can shoot arrows better than any of you losers."

SO I FEEL LIKE she'd get super protective during capture the flag and would basically turn into a one-woman army defending you,even though you're the one with healing abilities like-

She deff secretly loves when you play music, especially if it's something calming. But she'd never admit it.

Clarisse would totally teach you some badass combat moves, and you'd become the power couple of Camp Half-Blood.

I feel like she would surprise you with little gifts, like handmade weapons or something, just to show she cares.

She LOVES challenging you to spar, and even though she's tough, she secretly lets you win sometimes.

I feel like Clarisse would totally steal a kiss when no one's looking and then act all tough about it.

She 100% calls you "Apollo's Favorite" after a playful argument between the two of you,but deep down,she knows you're her favorite.

I feel like she would plan these epic adventures for just the two of you, like sneaking out of camp to explore some forbidden area.

Clarisse totally LOVES it when you compliment her battle skills, and she'll boast about it for days.

Honestly,she'd have a soft spot for you and your healing abilities and would secretly seek your help when she gets a minor injury.

I feel like she would surprise you with a secret picnic by the beach,claiming it's just to eat, but really-she just wanted some alone time with you.

Clarisse might not say it often, but she LOVES having you by her side in battles, knowing you've got her back no matter what.

A/N:AHSHSJ,so basically,even though Clarisse acts all tough,she's a total sweetheart when it comes to you and would definitely break anyone's face for you 💕

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keerysfreckles · 5 months

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luke is proud because his partner is a badass and can stand for themselves

pairing: luke castellan x gn!reader

warnings: pretty short blurb (sorry)

a/n: I FINISHED TITANS CURSE TODAY!!!!!! i literally hate this but im just cleaning out my drafts

masterlist !

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

you weren't sure what you and luke were.

you two have kissed (multiple times) but never talked about what you two could possibly be. it was pissing you off.

would you confront luke about it? gods no.

you couldn't help but think more about yourself and luke during sword fighting lessons. of course, luke was the one teaching today.

you would say you were surprised when luke called on you to spar against him, but that would be a complete lie.

"you seem distant today," luke speaks quietly while you put your safety armor on.

you shrug, "just have a lot of thinking to do."

those were the only words shared between you two. then you started to spar. luke was quick to hit his sword against your chest plate.

you started again, both getting in your starting positions. you tried to go for luke's arm, to get your sword under him. you were surprised as it work, and somehow ended up turning him so his back was facing you. he dropped his sword as you pushed him to the grass and dirt. you heard him panting heavily as you held him down.

"you been practicing?"

you nod, before letting the hermes boy stand, "something like that."

#shelbi writes #keerysfreckles #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #pjo #pjo show #pjo tv #pjo tv show #pjo series #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 20 days

Text

XD @flurraz that's brilliant- clothing montage at the Carmine Compound!!!!

but it’s just Clara and Odette holding various weapons up next to Vaggie while their new adopted little sister scowls at her reflection and repeatedly says “NO” to the even more scowling reflection of their mom behind her

Vaggie: “Yeah no. I’m not wielding that.”

Clara: “It has spikes!”

Odette: “And hand protection.”

Clara: “And SPIKES.”

Vaggie: “Great, I could stab myself while swinging it around.”

Carmilla: “Only if you are terrible at it.”

Vaggie: (glaring) “Well I already know I’m not terrible with my spear, so I’m sticking with that.”

Carmilla: (Glowers) (goes back to pretending to check weapon schematics)

Odette: (ticks off failure on clipboard) “Sticking... or skewering?”

Vaggie: “Ha ha, very funny.”

Odette: (ticks off another point for herself on a little odette vs sisters score board)

Clara: (rummaging in crate) “This isn’t funny and you guys shouldn’t be laughing.” (holds up new weapon) “Now THIS goes with your hair.”

Vaggie: “You’re kidding.”

Clara: “No kiddo, you’re kidding yourself if you think the long-ass shaft of a spear makes sense with a do that lovely and flowing.”

Vaggie: “What the fuck does that-”

Odette: “She’s right.” (makes new score board clara vs vaggie with one point to clara)

Clara: “No wonder you had trouble sparring with mom. Like, more that you would’ve had normally.”

Vaggie: “I haven’t been in a real fight in years okay!”

Carmilla: “It shows.”

Vaggie: “I’m. Working on it. I was one of that asshole’s best Exorcists once, I can-”

Carmilla: “Be better than that, hopefully.”

Vaggie: “Thanks.” (GLARES)

Clara: “All I’m saying is- no point fighting against yourself too, right? How hard did you have to focus to keep the stupid butt end from tangling in your hair?”

Vaggie: “I’m NOT cutting it.”

Clara: “Who’s asking?” (dangles weapon enticingly) “Look! Your new best friend!”

Vaggie: “A gun.”

Clara: “I know I know- you like sharp things and staby stuff, but look!”

Clara: (twirls gun dramatically)

Clara: “It has a knife on iiiiiit~”

Odette: “It would also not interfere with your hair.”

Vaggie: “I don’t know shit about guns.”

Clara: “What’s to know? Point and shoot. AND it’s got more reach than a spear! Which is good ‘cause you’re hair might be long, but the rest of you?” (rests elbow on vaggie’s shoulder) “Rest of you kinda comes up short.”

Vaggie: (grinding her teeth) “THANKS.”

Odette: (ticks another point for clara)

Clara: “Wait- You’ll take it!?”

Vaggie: “No.”

Odette: (ticks another failure) “Why not.”

Vaggie: "Oh wow I don't know maybe because-"

Vaggie: (ticks off reason on hand) “With a spear I have to choose every skewering I do and it’s a lot harder to miss and stick the wrong person. Even if I throw it it's only gonna go so far or through so many people. A bullet can go anywhere once it’s loose. If your aim is off by a centimeter that little thing goes wide. Maybe don't give the gun to the woman with a missing eye??? Definitely not when there are moving targets and things around she ISN'T supposed to shoot?"

Clara: "Oh riiiiight." (looks from gun to vaggie's eyepatch) "Huh."

Carmilla: (not looking up) "You were very accurate during our little play fight."

Odette: "I confirm. I've watched the security footage. I'm sure you could compensate."

Vaggie: "Well I'm not. I’m trying to protect my girlfriend and our friends and kill angels. I'm not not in this fight to ACCIDENTALLY kill someone.”

Carmilla: (smiles)

Clara: “Uh-huh. You like being close enough to catch all that blood splatter, don’t you.”

Vaggie: “…it’s just a perk.”

Carmilla: (smiles wider)

Clara: “Ew.”

Odette: “Impractical.” (adds ‘deranged’ to list of new sister’s traits, right under ‘gay’) “Mother, tell her she’s being weird.”

Carmilla: “I fight people with ballet, I’m afraid the toe of judgement I’m balanced upon is rather precarious.”

Vaggie: (SMIRKS) “Pretty badass though.”

Carmilla: “I know.”

Clara: “OH-!”

Clara: (disassembles gun) (chucks it) (claps hands) “I GOT IT!”

Vaggie: “What now.”

Odette: “Nothing good, statistically.”

Clara: “MOM! Mom- maybe she needs- You know!” (GRINNING EVILLY) “If the shoe fits….?”

Carmilla: “….Hmm.”

Vaggie: “What.”

Carmilla: (standing up and prowling around vaggie thoughtfully)

Vaggie: “…seriously, what?”

Carmilla: “Would you spin, please.”

Vaggie: (gracefully turns) “You know what I look like, miss Carmine.” (glares at clara) “There’s not much of me to look at anyway.”

Clara: “There’s enough, don’t worry~”

Vaggie: (rolls eye) “Wow. Such praise.”

Carmilla: “Can you stand on one leg without falling, or does the loss of your eye-”

Vaggie: “That’s more distance and depth and stuff.” (tucks one leg) “I’ve figured it out, kinda.”

Odette: “Yes? Constant assessment of changes in size and angle of objects?”

Vaggie: “You got it.”

Odette: “Seems rather strenuous for daily life.”

Clara: “Aww you get headaches or shit?”

Vaggie: “More like just tired. Keeping things in the same place when I can manage it helps a lot. Or it does when no one’s moving the lobby chairs around and then LEAVING them messed up like that anyway, for ME to clean up…”

Clara: “Or stumble into?”

Vaggie: “Whichever comes first.”

Clara: "Ow."

Odette: “So tidiness helps.”

Vaggie: “Yep.”

Odette: “Noted.” (notes it)

Carmilla: “Well you certainly are steady. Excellent posture.”

Carmilla: (leans in)

Vaggie: (leans back to maintain distance) (still on one leg)“Don’t forget confused and slowly losing patience, ma’am.”

Carmilla: “Mm? What? Oh sorry.” (leans back)

Carmilla: “You are a dancer, aren’t you.”

Odette: “...Oh no.”

Clara: “Oh YESSSSS.”

Vaggie: “Yes? Why the- why the fuck is she hiding behind her clip board-”

Odette: “I don’t want to relive my trauma.”

Clara: “I DO!”

Vaggie: “What the fuck does that have to do with me!?”

Clara: “Everything~”

Odette: “It’s about to be YOUR trauma.”

Vaggie: “What does THAT m-”

Clara: “Welcome to the family!”

Vaggie: “I- wh- why’re you making it sound like a THREAT!?”

Carmilla: “Our family is a threat. Now.” (taps heavenly steel ballet slippers together so they chime) “Can you stand en pointe?”

Vaggie: “….”

Vaggie: “….oh HELL no-”

Carmilla: “You already use your training as a dancer in battle. Weaponizing it fully is merely the next step.”

Clara: “Heheh. Step.”

Odette: (marks a point for mom)

Vaggie: “En pointe?” (clutching her spear) “THIS IS THE ONLY POINT I NEED!”

Carmilla: “Clara, fetch the practice slippers.”

Clara: (salutes) “Yes mom!”

Vaggie: “CLARA WAIT!”

Odette: “May mother have mercy on you.” (follows clara towards door)

Vaggie: “NO HEY- pendejo- WHY ARE YOU LEAVING TOO???”

Odette: “I will oversee the rest of the weapon loading. Also, I do not want to witness this, and am escaping.”

Carmilla: (sighs) “Dancing is a passion that is not always passed down from mother to child…”

Odette: “Not willingly anyway. Much like trauma.”

Clara: (out of sight) “I liked my trauma!”

Vaggie: “I’ve already got some, I don’t need more!”

Carmilla: “But you do not have your order of weapons yet. It will take half an hour to finish bringing out stock, checking each weapon for readiness, and crating them up again. Plenty of time for a little… assessment.”

Vaggie: (folds wings around herself) (backs away) “I’ve- dancing’s just a hobby, I’m, not even that good-”

Carmilla: “Your lies are terrible. Your form is perfect.”

Vaggie: “I’ve only danced for FUN!”

Carmilla: “And is not battle fun for you? The rush, the deadly interplay of partners you know so briefly and so intimately, to move in response and shape their own movements with yours?”

Vaggie: “…. I also like stabbing people!”

Carmilla: “Choreography for a spear. An interesting challenge.”

Vaggie: “Is this part of the deal for getting weapons from you, or-”

Carmilla: “Yes.”

Vaggie: “-en la madre…. fiiiiine.”

Carmilla: “You will submit to a small rehearsal?”

Vaggie: “Whatever.”

Carmilla: “Good. Now tuck those wings away.”

Vaggie: “Won’t I do better with-”

Carmilla: “You are more used to moving without them now, they're very nearly throwing off your balance. That, on top of your long hair, we do not have time to contend with.”

Vaggie: “But-”

Carmilla: “Fight without wings and keep them in reserve or cut your hair. Your choice.”

Vaggie: “…I guess.. keeping them as a surprise makes sense…”

Carmilla: “And you like having long hair, I know.”

Vaggie: “It’s whooshy.”

Carmilla: “Regardless, you will also at least be tying it back.”

Vaggie: (glowering) “Yes mom.”

Carmilla: “….”

Vaggie: “…”

Vaggie: “Ma’am I said ma’am.”

Carmilla: “I’m sure you did.” (turning away) (hiding smile) "Now. What always comes first?"

Vaggie: (sighing) (resigned) "Stretches..."

#hazbin hotel #vaggie #carmilla carmine hazbin hotel #clara carmine hazbin hotel #odette carmine hazbin hotel #vaggie gets adopted by the carmines au #incorrect quotes #silly #clara and odette having way too much fun with their new chew toy- SISTER #carmilla rubbing her giant clawed dancer hands together #plotting how to finally pass on her weird dancing obsession #to at least ONE daughter

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