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druidwolf21 · 9 days ago

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Command deck

Lion El'johnson/f reader

Summery: Lion El'johnson's personal serf gets a little more personal.

Tags:Tags: @beckyninja @moodymisty @jaghatai-khock @echo-of-damnation @laura-naruto-fan1998 @lemon-russ @astrohymn @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @incrediblethirst @kit-williams @iluminatka16 @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond @bookandyarndragon @thisuserislilsilly @saintsylestine

A/N: as with all, not proof read. Short thought I needed out of my head

Tw: smut, brief derogatory language, brief mild threat.

This is NOT going to end well

The Command deck was crowded, astartes and astra militarum stood circling the flickering holo display hovering over the round center table as serfs and lower ranking soldiers hurried about shouting orders.

You glanced around, taking in the room as you clutched your holodisk in your hands. The dark angels sigil hung along the ships walls on massive gilded banners, fluttering faintly as Marines strode past.

The Command center was raised, an elevated platform accessed by a single walkway that looked down to the pilot deck. Peeking over the railed edge, The room below was fitted with desks and large displays, showing flashing lights and trajectories to unknown planets and pulsing stars.

"And how does this involve you, Oseric?"

You dragged your eyes back to the centre, wincing at the biting voice.

Lion El'johnson stood with his arms folded across his green tabard, emerald eyes flashing as he watched the projected display.

He was furious.

You could see it in the way the muscle in his jaw twitched, in how his pupils thinned as he watched the millitarum officer prattle on about defensive procedure and munition lines.

"My lord I really do believe-"

The room stilled as Lion El'johnson waved his hand, silencing the man.

"Captain Osric, whilst I believe you are a man of... Varying talents, I fail to see how you would draw the conclusion that I value your opinion on this matter"

The officer spluttered as his face turned red.

Lions voice was low, dangerously laced as he continued.

"My Dark Angels were called in to handle this after you failed to bring this rebellion under control. The Command of this battle is no longer yours"

You stood behind the primarch, hands clasped in front of you tugged at a viridian thread teasing itself loose from your dress as an uneasy tension settled over the meeting. Soldiers shuffled their feet, cowing under the Lions presence as his personal guard stepped forward.

"My lord El'johnson I really do think-"

"Now that's the problem. I don't think you do"

He waved a large hand again and an angel stepped forward, clasping an armour hand on the captains shoulder.

"If you had, in fact, stopped to think at any point, my sons and I would not be here wasting our time cleaning up this sorry mess"

You could see Lions jaw clenching behind the cropped hair of his beard as he leant forward, spreading both palms across the table.

"Woman"

You jumped, rushing forwards to stand by the table. His gaze flicked to you, raking along your body before returning to your face and then finally the hololithe.

"Tell our good captain Osric what you found"

With practiced ease you slid your fingers along the data slate, swapping out the projected image for rolls of scrolling data and pics.

"I took it upon myself to look into the dissention and subsequent hostility in section 42.8.c" you flicked again, zooming into an image of a man, stood up on a pile of rubble with his fist held in the air. Beneath his foot, a flag of the imperium aquilla lay torn and bloodied.

"This man is the source of rebellion movements in the sector. If he dies, the unrest will settle very quickly"

"And how long did this information take you to find?"

You shared a large map, indicating frequented spots, travel projections and known acquaintances.

"6 hours, my lord"

Lion peered at the captain, who looked visibly sweaty beneath the stern gaze and the weight of plasteel on his shoulder.

"6 hours"

He pushed off the table, standing upright as he scowled.

"My aide has done more for me in 6 hours than you have done in 6 days"

"But my lord, we didnt-"

"Get him out of my sight"

The dark angel shoved the captain, hassling him over the narrow access bridge and through the hermetic doors.

With a heavy sigh Lion took a seat, musing over the information still displayed above the table. The remaining soldiers stood uncomfortably, waiting for anything.

He remained silent.

You stepped up to the side of the primarch's chair, your hip brushing against the arm rest as you shifted the display to a number of astartes.

"My lord, the captain of the dreadwing has requested men from his unit be deployed. He advised a "Scorched earth approach would render to ash any doubts of the imperial truth"

Lion glanced at you as he traced his finger over his chin in thought before running his hand through his blonde locks.

"Clear the deck"

His voice boomed across the commander centre as men rushed to oblige, no doubt relieved to escape the scrutiny of the first son. His elite guard lingered, red eye lenses whirring as he looked between you and his genesire.

You stepped to the front of his chair and bowed, hugging your slate to your chest to keep from spilling out of the tight laced bodice of your dress.

"I will take my leave, my lord Lion"

"Not you, you stay"

You paused as he spoke, still bent at the waist you listened as his guard clashed a gauntlet against plate armour. The sound of heavy ceramite fading as the command doors sealed with a pressurized hiss.

Rising up slowly, a breath caught in your throat as the lion peered at you. His face unreadable, he frowned slightly before sighing.

"You have done fine work, considering the incompetency we have faced since arrival."

"Thank you, my lord. I only wish to be of service to you"

"hmm"

Your body felt warm under his gaze, a flush creeping up the exposed skin of your chest, up your neck and across your cheeks.

"Such a useful thing. And yet such dissension you have caused, to the hassle of my sons"

"My lord?"

Lion kicked a leg out, lounging backwards in his chair as below the platform, the muted sound of orders echoed faintly.

"My sons have had multiple men punished for calling you "the lions whore"" he tapped the arm of his chair, steely eyes never leaving you as he spoke.

"Obviously this is to save insult to myself, rather than you, but never the less I find myself wondering why this hasn't been nipped in the bud"

Your mouth worked for a moment as you struggled to find the right words, The feint pink blush now burning furiously.

"I assure you my lord, I have never encouraged this lie"

"And yet my sons hear it disseminated freely amongst serfs"

Sighing you rubbed your temples, catching yourself as the lion cocked an eyebrow at the movement.

"My lord, jealousy is unfortunately something I cannot control. I was hand picked to help you and If that's how they want to see it then let them, I'm not ashamed"

Your outburst left you stunned for a moment before you began stammering, dropping your data drive to the tabletop as you waved your hands.

"oh, but that's not to say... I mean I would never assume you would... Not that you couldn't, I would be more than happy to.. but I mean-"

A low deep noise halted you as Lion began to laugh. A deep rumbling chuckle in his throat that lasted only a moment before he fell silent.

"So you pride yourself on being the Lions whore do you?"

"my lord, you know that is not what i-"

A gasp wretched itself from you as he grabbed your forearm and dragged you forward until you leaned over his chair, you face dangerously close to his.

Palms rested against his broad chest, your fingers clenching at the soft fabric of his tunic as he held you.

"What bothers you more, little aide? What they call you? Or the fact that it isn't true?"

His palm found the back of your head, pulling you to meet his lips in a heated kiss. The brush of his beard burned your skin as his mouth moved against yours. his tongue delving into your mouth as you gasped, feeling his hand slide along your waist.

Breathless you broke the kiss, staring stunned at the primarch as he smirked.

"my lord, I really don't think this is-"

He pulled you in for another kiss. hungrier, he moved his lips along your neck as he pulled you fully against him to straddle his lap.

"You said you wanted to be of service" he muttered against your throat, palming the fat of your rear through the iridescent skirt of your dress. "Why not make the name official"

You bit back a groan as he ran his tongue along the pulse point of your neck.

"Someone will see us"

He slid his hand under your dress, trailing his fingers along your thigh before pressing his thumb against your clit.

"It is more likely they will hear you"

He pressed again. A fanged grin spreading across his face as you jerked, moaning softly as he traced circles around the nerves.

The noise of the ships helm faded as you panted in the primarch's lap, feeling his fingers bruising your thigh and his thumb rubbing against your nub.

"This- this isn't appropriate"

"Do you want me to stop?"

You bit back a whine as he stilled, thumb pressed unmoving to your core. Your hips bucked and you ground yourself against him, throwing your arms around his neck as you pushed your hips down into his lap.

"No"

You felt his chest reverb, his teeth finding your throat as he resumed flicking his finger across your clit, a thick digit sliding between the slick and teasing your entrance as he pulled you towards your finish. You couldn't hold back a moan as he slid his finger inside, curling it against your walls his languid strokes finally brought you to finish.

Lion scoffed as he felt you cum. Pulling his finger out he pushed it into your mouth, pupils dilating as you ran your tongue along it with glassy eyes.

"Maybe they were right to call you whore" he mused, gripping your chin. "Was this what you wanted all along? Did you want your primarch to praise you like this for working so diligently?" He pressed his finger to your tongue, watching you gasp for a moment. "Well? Is it?"

'Yes, yes my lord" you garbled, fighting to get the words out past the pad of his finger.

"Good girl"

You cunt clenched at his praise, heat pooling in your gut as he reached between you, unbuckling his trousers to free himself. Your eyes bulged as you eyed his length watching it slap against his stomach as he rugged it free from his trousers, dusty pink tip already leaking as he palmed it slowly.

A quick glance up at him and you reached down, taking him cock between both hands as you slowly pumped the shaft, allowing your thumb to tease his tip, just as he'd teased you. You grinned as you felt him stiffen, his abs tight under his shirt as you slid your hands along him.

Calloused hands clutched the back of your neck as he kissed you, all tongue and teeth like he was trying to devour you with each breathless moment. You continued to work him between your fingers, swallowing his grunts as he twitched.

Pulling away with spit coating your lip, you lifted the soft satin on your dress, bunching it at your hips as you slid your underwear aside and lined him up to your entrance. Lions throaty moan drowning yours as inch by inch you slid down around him, gutteral curses in a language you didn't recognize falling from his lips as he clawed at your hips.

Pain and pleasure blurred and your eyes watered as he stretched you deliciously full. Through tears, you could see Lion staring at the point your body's met, thumb rubbing across your stomach as he watched you take him.

"Look at that" he hummed "You really are made to serve"

Panting like a bitch in heat, you slowly rose yourself up before dropping back down, rolling your hips as you rode him to push his leaking glans against the spot that made you scream. Lions hands helping you bounce as his own hips thrust up to meet you.

Your orgasm came crashing down around you again as he rutted upwards, dragging his thick length across your walls. His palm shot up to smother the wailing sob that escaped your swollen lips as he fucked you through it, relentless as he felt you clench around his cock.

it doesn't matter, you thought they've already heard enough to know the rumours are true.

The lions whore has quite a nice ring to it, you suppose.

You sighed into his hand, tears trickling through his fingers as he thrust, over and over. Low snarls wracking his broad chest beneath your clenched knuckles as he twitched inside you.

'Mmmhmm" you muffled against his palm

He pulled it away for a second scowling like you had interrupted him.

"Inside, I want it inside" you crooned. "Fill me up, Lord Lion.

Lions eyes shot wide and he smothered a snarl, embedding his canines into your shoulder as with a final erratic pump he came, flooding your cunt with hot ropes of cum that leaked around his pulsing shaft and dripped down your thighs. After a moment, you felt his great mass shift beneath you, sliding out of your heat as he tucked himself back into his trousers with a tired groan.

"I guess I am the Lions whore now" you smiled, pulling your dress over your legs and allowing yourself to fall against his chest as you craned you neck to look at him. The coarse hair on his cheeks and chin rubbed your skin and he pressed his lips to your forehead.

Lion opened his mouth to speak, only for the hiss of the airtight door lock to interrupt him.

A astartes, clad in Veridian green and wings atop his helm strode through the door. His visor twisted to look down at you in his gene sires lap and you heard him inhale before turned back to his father.

"Lord El'johnson, the millitarum captain has requested a continuation of the earlier discussion regarding astartes take over."

Lion dragged a palm down his face and patted your hip, gesturing for you to stand. With an aching sigh you slid off his lap and onto your feet, feeling your pants snap back into place as you smoothed the ruffled fabric around your legs. You grimaced slightly, feeling his spend pooling in the gussett.

The Dark angel clashed his fist to his chest and returned to the door, propping it open as the soldier entered sheepishly.

"My lord, forgive the intrusion but I really do think-"

Captain Oseric eyes popped as he scrambled through the door,l to be met with the sight of you breathless and flushed stood next to the lion.

"I think I will take my leave, My lord. Please summon me at your discretion should you require my services"

You dipped into a curtsy, dipping low as you stepped around the trembling captain, flashing a smile at him as you passed.

"Whore" he whispered through gritted teeth.

Before you could respond, the space marine has hoisted the man by the scruff of his neck, dangling him in the air as his other hand twitched towards his bolter.

"The Lady El'Johnson will not be spoken to as such" the astartes hissed, mechanical and wheezing through his breather. "I will kill you where you stand"

Shocked, you glanced between the angel and the primarch. Predatory gaze never leaving you as his son threatened to throttle the captain.

"I will attend you later, you may leave"

Bowing your head, you smiled as Lion El'johnson waved you off, flicking his concentration to Osric, trembling and spluttering as he hung 5 feet off the ground.

"once again I find you wasting my time today Captain. I'm beginning to think we may have a problem."

Sliding out of the door, El'johnsons voice faded as the vacuum sealed the command deck.

Lady El'Johnson definitely sounds better than the lions whore

#warhammer 40k x reader #primarch x reader #warhammer x reader #warhammer #warhammer 40k #lion el'johnson/reader #lion el'jonson x reader

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the-winter-spider · 10 months ago

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Timeless | B.Barnes

Word Count: 7.7k

Warnings: None

A/N: I was listening to Timeless By Taylor Swift and was clearly inspired.

Masterlist

——

2024

The night sky was ablaze with flashes of light and the crackle of energy blasts as you and the Avengers fought your way through the remnants of a fortified enemy base. The mission had been straightforward—take down a group of rogue mercenaries who had been experimenting with dangerous, uncharted technology. But like most things in your line of work, nothing stayed straightforward for long.

You dodged a barrage of gunfire, returning fire with precision, while Steve and Bucky fought side by side, taking down enemies with practiced ease. Natasha was up ahead, taking out a sniper nest, while Tony soared above, providing aerial support with his repulsors. You could feel the heat of the battle on your skin, your senses heightened by adrenaline.

“Stay sharp, everyone!” Steve’s voice crackled through your earpiece. “Something’s not right about these guys.”

You didn’t need him to tell you twice. There was an eerie, unnatural energy surrounding the mercenaries. They were moving too fast, their reflexes too sharp for ordinary humans. And then you saw it—a strange device in the center of the base, pulsating with a sickly yellow glow.

“Tony, what the hell is that?” you called out, your eyes fixed on the device.

“Not sure, but it’s giving off some seriously weird readings,” Tony responded, his suit’s HUD lighting up with unfamiliar data.

Before you could react, one of the mercenaries—his eyes glowing with the same yellow hue—turned his attention toward you. He raised his hand, and suddenly, you felt a force tugging at you, pulling you off balance. The ground beneath your feet seemed to shift and warp.

“Y/N, get out of there!” Bucky shouted, his voice desperate sprinting toward you, but it was too late.

The world around you exploded in a kaleidoscope of colours as the force yanked you from your place in reality. Your vision blurred, and your body felt like it was being stretched and compressed at the same time. You could hear the panicked shouts of your teammates growing distant as you were sucked into a swirling vortex of light and sound.

“Bucky!” you cried out, reaching for him, but your hand grasped nothing but air.

And then, everything went black.

1930s

You landed on your feet with a thud, slightly stumbling back into a large tree.

“Y/N? What the hell are you doing? And what are you wearing?” Peggy Carter scowled at you.

Your mouth fell open. This wasn’t just another time—this was a different universe. You could feel it in the air, something distinctly off. The timeline wasn’t your own.

Peggy grabbed your hand, her grip firm. “I hope you had enough time alone because you’re going to be late!” she scolded, pulling you along. She was dressed in a stunning pink gown, her hair styled perfectly, as always. Peggy was gorgeous, no matter the universe.

“Late for what?” you asked, allowing her to drag you along. You knew you could trust Peggy, even in a world that wasn’t your own. You had to play along, to avoid disrupting whatever timeline you’d landed in.

She spun around to face you, her hands on your shoulders as she inspected you. “What are you doing, Pegs?” you asked, the nickname slipping out naturally, even though it felt foreign on your tongue. You hadn’t called her that in seventy years, and the thought brought tears to your eyes.

“I’m checking to see if you hit your head, because there’s no way you’d forget that today is your wedding. You’ve been talking about it since we were little!”

Little? You didn’t meet Peggy until 1943, when you were twenty-five. So things were really different here. “My wedding?”

“Oh my gosh! We do not have time for this!” Her hands flew up in exasperation as she yanked you towards the cutest little house. You noticed the green front door, the white picket fence, and the blooming sunflowers. It was beautiful. You could see an archway decorated with flowers, undoubtedly for your wedding. The wedding that was apparently yours.

Peggy peeked her head inside the house. “Is he still upstairs?” she called out. A voice responded affirmatively, and she hurried you inside, not giving you a chance to take in your surroundings. The house looked as though someone had just moved in—or was planning to. You could hear voices from upstairs, your heart skipping a beat when you recognized a laugh. His laugh.

Before you could fully process it, Peggy pulled you into a room just off the foyer.

Inside, you saw a garment bag, likely containing your wedding dress. Another woman was setting up curlers and makeup. When she turned, you nearly gasped. “Becca?”

“Finally! Oh my gosh, what are you wearing? Where did she run off to, Peggy?”

“That’s what I said!” Peggy replied, starting to take down your ponytail and brush your hair. “She was by the pond.”

“The pond? What were you doing over there? Did you fall in? You’re a mess,” Rebecca scolded.

A few tears slid down your cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

Rebecca’s eyes widened as she wiped away your tears. “Whoa, okay, hey. We’re not mad, just worried. And we only have,” she glanced at the clock, “two hours until showtime.”

They worked on your hair and makeup while you sat there, trying to absorb it all. This was a moment you never got in your own timeline, one you should have had. Anxiety gnawed at you. What year was it? Who were you marrying? Was Bucky here? Surely he was if Rebecca was, but what if this was after the train incident? What if you had moved on in this timeline in a way you never did—or never would? Was Steve here? Was he finally with Peggy? What was your Bucky thinking? Did he know you were gone? How long had you been missing from your universe? Did they miss you?

Peggy and Rebecca squealed in delight, snapping you out of your thoughts. They spun you around to face the mirror. You gasped softly. The woman staring back at you wasn’t who you expected to see again. Your hair was styled beautifully, parted and curled. Your makeup was flawless, enhancing your features. Your lips were painted your favourite red, a shade you hadn’t worn since before everything changed. They didn’t even make this shade anymore in 2024. Even though you had your boys back in your universe, you weren’t that girl anymore, no matter how much you wished you could be.

Rebecca and Peggy guided you to stand. “Okay, time to take whatever this… is off,” Rebecca said, motioning to your Avengers uniform. To anyone else, it might look like a tight, all-black tracksuit. Thankfully, you had used all your weapons during the mission, so you didn’t have any on you. Your last hidden knife was thrown just before you were tossed into what you could only assume was the multiverse.

Peggy opened the garment bag, handing you a smaller one. “Go put these on first,” she winked, shoving you towards the small attached bathroom.

“And please, for the love of God, don’t mess up your hair or makeup!” Rebecca shouted after you.

You stripped off your uniform, folding it neatly and placing it on the toilet. A small gash on your side caught your eye, and you winced as you cleaned it as best you could. Opening the bag, you couldn’t help but smile. Of course, it was lingerie.

You put everything on, marvelling at how it made you feel. It had been so long since you’d worn anything like this—or even worn the colour white. It felt wrong. You weren’t some innocent, naive girl anymore. You were a killer. You sighed, shoving your Avengers clothes into the bag the lingerie had come in. You felt exposed, the gash on your side still visible. Luckily, when Peggy found you, you were out of it. You could say you fell and didn’t notice.

Your hand hovered over the bathroom door handle when you heard a knock on the bedroom door. Thanks to your enhanced abilities, you could hear everything.

“It’s almost time. Is she ready?” Your heart did backflips. Steve. You’d recognize his voice anywhere, even underwater.

“Just have to do the dress,” Peggy responded firmly.

“She’s acting a little weird,” Rebecca added.

You could picture Steve’s brows furrowing in concern. “Nerves? I mean, she’s about to marry the love of her life. I’d be full of them if I were in her shoes.”

“She went for a walk. I think she hit her head. She was a little out of it.”

“Should we call a doctor? Maybe a concussion?” Steve asked, panicked.

Peggy laughed. “Steve, did you forget? I’m a nurse. I checked her over. Let’s just say it’s definitely nerves.”

A nurse? you thought. What the hell?

“Now get out of here! We’ll be ready in five minutes,” Rebecca said loudly, no doubt shoving Steve out.

You sighed, opening the bathroom door. Both their heads turned toward you. Peggy’s eyes immediately went to the red, angry cut on your side.

“Oh my gosh!” they both exclaimed, though with different meanings and tones.

“You look hot! Definitely making me some nieces or nephews tonight,” Rebecca said happily before her face scrunched up. “Ew, I forgot you’re marrying my brother.”

You felt like you could faint. It was confirmed. The you in this timeline still ended up with Bucky.

Peggy rushed forward, her focus on your cut. “I knew you fell!”

Rebecca gasped. “Bucky’s gonna be so mad I let you get hurt!”

“It’s fine, I promise. It doesn’t even hurt. I already cleaned it, Pegs.” You smiled sweetly at her. “Do you have any gauze? I don’t want to get any blood on the dress.”

She scoffed, looking offended before a small smile broke across her face. “Do I have gauze? Gosh, you and Steve really are two peas in a pod, both of you offending me within minutes!”

Peggy bandaged your side with practised ease, her hands steady as she worked. “There, good as new,” she said, standing back to admire her handiwork. She looked into your eyes, her expression softening. “You’re going to be okay… nerves or not, you’ve got this.”

Rebecca nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah, and Bucky—he’s going to lose it when he sees you. He’s been head over heels for you since… well, forever.”

You forced a smile, your heart heavy with something you couldn’t quite place “Thank you, i-i don’t know what I’d ever do without either of you” This moment felt surreal, which of course it was because it never happened for you, but you took in every moment no matter what because you would never get this again.

Peggy grinned, handing you the wedding dress. “Let’s get you into this, shall we? Can’t keep your groom waiting.”

As you slipped into the dress, the weight of the moment pressed down on you. You were about to walk down the aisle in a universe that wasn’t your own, to marry Bucky, the mixed emotions had you feeling like a child again. You were trained to be an assassin and you were letting everything get to you. Maybe because your heart was still tethered to your own timeline, to your Bucky, and the life you had left behind…the life that was taken from you by Hydra.

Once you were dressed, Peggy and Rebecca stood back, their eyes shining with pride. “You look perfect,” Peggy said, her voice full of emotion.

Rebecca’s eyes misted over. “Bucky’s going to cry when he sees you…we're finally going to be sisters!” She squealed, pulling you into a hug.

Peggy’s eyebrows shot up. “I almost forgot! We got you something.” She turned away, digging through her bag. “And don’t say we didn’t have to, because of course we did.”

Before you could respond, she turned back, holding a tiny white box tied with a little red ribbon. Your hands trembled as you took it from her and carefully untied the ribbon. Inside was a delicate gold bracelet, adorned with two stones—your birthstone and Bucky’s.

“Look on the inside,” Rebecca whispered, her excitement palpable.

You lifted the bracelet, inspecting the engraving on the inner band: Mr. & Mrs. Barnes, June 8th, 1930 - A timeless love.

Your breath hitched. 1930. This timeline was so wrong from yours, everything was different.

“I… I…” you stuttered, overwhelmed.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Peggy said softly, her voice full of warmth. “May I?” she gestured toward the bracelet. You nodded, holding out your wrist as she fastened it around you. “Now you’re ready,” she winked, stepping back.

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Let’s do this.”

As you made your way downstairs, the sounds of the wedding day grew louder—music playing softly, the murmur of guests waiting for the ceremony to begin. When you reached the bottom step, you saw Steve waiting for you. But not just any Steve—pre-serum Steve, the version of him you hadn’t seen in what felt like a lifetime. You couldn’t help but tear up at the sight of him, your Stevie.

His breath caught as he took in your appearance. “You look… stunning,” he said, his voice filled with awe.

You managed a small smile, your eyes welling with tears. “Thanks, Stevie.”

He laughed, a familiar sound that tugged at your heart. “Haven’t heard you call me that in forever. I’ll let it slide because it’s your wedding day.” He offered you his arm. “Ready?”

Of course, he was the one walking you down the aisle. Your parents must be gone in this universe too. “Yeah,” you lied, taking his arm. As you walked toward the backyard, where the ceremony was set to take place, you tried to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside you. You had to keep it together, to play your part until you could figure out how to get back to your own universe.

When you stepped outside, your breath caught. The yard had been transformed into a picturesque wedding venue. Flowers adorned every surface, fairy lights twinkled in the early evening light, and the guests—all familiar faces, people you hadn’t seen in almost a hundred years, people who were gone in your time—turned to watch you. These were slightly different versions of them, but the sight was overwhelming.

But it was the sight of Bucky that nearly undid you. He stood at the end of the aisle, dressed in a sharp suit, his eyes locked on you. There was so much love and admiration in his gaze that it made your heart ache. This moment was everything you ever wanted, everything you dreamed of the day you met Bucky.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to take the first step down the aisle. With each step, the reality of what you were about to do weighed heavier on your heart. By the time you reached Bucky, your emotions were a tangled mess.

He reached out, taking your hand with both of his. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, his voice full of emotion.

You smiled up at him, trying to ignore the tears that threatened to spill over at the sight of him having both warm, flesh hands. “So do you.”

The officiant began speaking, but his words were a blur in your ears. All you could focus on was Bucky, standing before you, so close yet so far from the man you knew and loved in your timeline. He looked so peaceful, no war behind his eyes, no shadows lurking over him. There was no trauma here.

When it came time to say your vows, Bucky squeezed your hands, his voice steady as he spoke. “Doll, from the moment I met you, I knew you were gonna be my best girl.” He winked, causing you to chuckle. “I’ve loved you since the moment I first laid eyes on you, and I’ll continue to love you for the rest of my life. I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited for this day. I’ll remember it forever and cherish every moment we have together.”

His words made your heart clench. How could you possibly say your vows when your heart belonged to another version of this man? But you had to, for the sake of this universe, this timeline. You couldn’t disrupt it any more than you already had. It made your heart ache.

Taking a shaky breath, you began. “Bucky, I… I promise to love you for as long as you’ll let me. I’ll love you in every universe possible. It was always you, it will always be you. I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

The words felt hollow but carried so much meaning. Bucky’s eyes filled with love and joy, oblivious to your inner turmoil. When the officiant pronounced you husband and wife, Bucky leaned down, capturing your lips in a gentle, tender kiss. The guests cheered, and for a moment, you let yourself get lost in the kiss, in the love this version of Bucky had for you.

But as the kiss ended, and you pulled back, reality came crashing down around you. You had to find a way back to your own timeline, to your Bucky. You couldn’t live this lie; this wasn’t the life you were meant for, not anymore. You wondered where the you from this timeline was? Where did she go? Would she come back once you were gone? Would it all make sense to her? Would she know everything that happened, or would she just get tossed in? Would the day restart for her? You sure hoped it would because this was her day, not yours. And you knew if it were your day, it would have been the best day of your life. She deserved it.

As the reception began, you excused yourself, slipping away from the crowd. You needed time to think, to figure out how to return to where you belonged. You paced at the front step, the door light flickering on.

“Doll?” Bucky’s voice cut through the silence.

You spun around. “Yeah, Buck?”

He placed his glass down, concern etched on his features. “Are you okay?” His left hand grabbed yours, the warmth of his touch startling you. Not feeling the coldness you were used to was breaking your heart. It felt wrong.

You glanced up at him, those same beautiful blue eyes and perfect pink lips. “Of course, I’m with you.”

He smiled the same smile, his eyes twinkling the same. Nose crinkling the same. He started to lean in. Your heart skipped a beat; this felt wrong. He stopped right before your lips. “Mrs. Y/N Barnes,” he whispered, his voice low. “I can’t tell ya how long I’ve wanted to call you that.”

“You have no idea,” you whispered, the weight of your words almost crushing you.

Then the door burst open. “There you are!” Peggy shouted, holding a very old but likely new-for-this-time camera. She shoved past you down the front steps. “This is perfect, the beautiful couple on their wedding day in their brand-new house!”

This was your house? Jealousy gnawed at you, seeing everything this version of you had. It was so peaceful—everything you had ever wanted but never got, and never would.

Bucky pulled you close to him, his right arm wrapping tightly around your waist, while his left hand reached out to hold your left hand, intertwining your fingers.

“Okay, smile in, 3…2…1!” A giant flash went off, and you heard the mechanism of the camera working before the film popped out. “One more for good measure,” Peggy said before taking another. “This one’s for you two, and this one’s for me.” She handed you the picture before skipping off, clearly tipsy.

Bucky rested his head on your shoulder. “Beautiful…” His voice was low as he kissed your bare shoulder. “Our future kids will love to see this one day.”

“Yeah, they will,” you whispered, barely holding it together.

“Well, wife,” he said, his voice filled with a smile, “we should get back to the party. Don’t wanna keep our guests waiting.”

You turned to face him, forcing a smile. “I’ll meet you back there? I just need to use the restroom.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” He kissed your forehead before walking off.

You went back to the room where you had originally prepared, locking the door behind you. You sighed, letting a tear fall. The enormity of what had just happened hit you full force. You were married, in a timeline that wasn’t your own, to a man who wasn’t your Bucky. You took the wedding rings off placing them safely on the vanity.

Frantically, you searched for the bag with your Avengers uniform, hoping for something—anything—that could help you get back. That’s when you felt it—thanks to your heightened senses, the faint crackle of static in the air. Panic surged through you as you fumbled with the bag, grabbing your uniform and shoving the wedding picture inside. Anything you were holding should come with you.

Suddenly, the static electricity surged, pulling you into its grip. You were flung through time and space, the world spinning around you.

1958

The disorienting feeling subsided as you landed on solid ground, gasping for air. The sounds of music surrounded you, and the smell of smoke filled your lungs. You looked down at yourself—you were still in the white dress, the bracelet from Becca and Peggy still in a bag clutched in your hand along with your gear and the photo, all still there. You stared at the picture, the image of you and Bucky smiling on your wedding day in that alternate timeline.

But this still wasn’t your timeline. You could tell by the dated cars and the subtle differences in the surroundings. At least something was happening, something that made you feel a bit more at ease. Your friends, your teammates—your Bucky—must be doing something, trying to get you back. Why else would you be in another timeline?

You stopped when you saw a newspaper on the ground, picking it up fast. The date read July 4th, 1958. At least you were moving ahead in time and not backward. You didn’t remember much about 1958 in your timeline; you were either in cryo or being experimented on, just like Bucky. The only thing you knew for sure was that today was Steve’s birthday.

As you walked through the familiar yet different streets, you noticed some stores were still here from when you last remembered, at least in your universe. One, a secondhand shop, caught your eye—a store you didn’t recall existing before. You slipped inside, knowing you had to blend in.

Rummaging through the clothing racks, you found a dress that would have to do. You didn’t have any money, and the thought of stealing made your stomach churn, but you needed to blend in until you were pulled from this timeline, just in case you ran into someone you knew. You didn’t understand much about the multiverse, but you knew enough to avoid tampering with it.

You sighed, grabbing a few more dresses and walking toward the changing room. The man at the counter called out, “How many do you have, Miss?”

You smiled sweetly, holding up three dresses. “Just three, sir!”

He nodded, satisfied, as you entered the changing room. Once inside, you used the moment to breathe. You had to take your time as if you were trying on the other dresses. You slipped the fourth dress on under your wedding dress, checking in the mirror to make sure it wasn’t noticeable. Satisfied, you stepped out, returning the other dresses to the rack.

“No luck?” the man asked.

You shook your head. “Sorry.”

“No worries, ma’am. You have a wonderful day!” he replied cheerfully.

You quickly made your way into an alley, taking off the wedding dress to reveal the more appropriate attire beneath. “Sorry, Y/N,” you whispered to yourself, tossing the wedding dress into a dumpster before stepping back out onto the street.

“Y/N?” Steve’s voice called softly.

You froze, turning around. “Steve?” How was he still alive? You didn’t know exactly how the multiverse worked, and clearly, any insight you had was completely wrong. The only thing you were sure of was that you weren’t supposed to tamper with anything—or was that time travel? You were so out of your depth.

He looked the same as he did the last time you saw him in the 40s in your timeline. Fashion hadn’t changed drastically, and the Super Soldier Serum had kept him looking youthful. He definitely had seen war, but maybe the jet didn’t go down in this timeline, sparing him from the fate he faced in your own.

“Why do you sound surprised to see me?” He laughed, reaching out to pull you into a side hug, his left arm holding a brown bag. “Doing some shopping?” he asked, nodding toward the bag you were carrying.

You nodded, trying to keep your composure. “You know me,” you shrugged, forcing a smile. Your heart raced, knowing he could likely hear it with his enhanced senses, just as you could hear his.

“Oh! Happy Birthday!” you exclaimed, trying to shift the focus. “How old are you now? Sixty?”

He chuckled, nudging your shoulder playfully. “Oh, ha ha! I’ll have you know I’m not a day over forty!” But his eyes betrayed a sadness before he cleared his throat. “Ready to go?”

You nodded, letting him lead the way. The silence between you was comfortable, as it always was. It didn’t matter what timeline you were in—Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes would always be constants in your life, and vice versa.

As you approached your destination, you froze. A graveyard. There were so many possibilities of who you could be visiting here with Steve—his mother, someone from the war, or… Bucky. The pang in your chest was familiar, the same one you felt all those years ago when you saw Steve walking up to you and Peggy after that fateful day that took your Bucky from you.

Steve gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay.”

You nodded solemnly, gesturing for him to lead the way.

When you reached the grave, your breath caught in your throat.

‘James Buchanan Barnes

March 10, 1917 - January 10, 1945

Beloved son, brother, friend, fiancé, hero.’

The sight of Bucky’s name on the gravestone hit you like a punch to the gut. This timeline was too close to what might have been if only Bucky had been taken and not all of you. You never even got to see the headstone of your Bucky. This felt surreal, like a cruel echo of a life you could have lived but never did.

Steve sat down first, patting the ground beside him, signalling you to join him. You placed your bag down and lowered yourself to the ground, your legs feeling heavy. The weight of the moment pressed down on you as Steve pulled out a small box from the bag he was carrying. When he opened it, you gasped softly at the sight of photos, letters, and a ring pinned to a small cushion, kept safe all these years.

Carefully, Steve unhooked the ring and handed it to you. “I know you only like to wear it when we visit him,” he said, his voice gentle, laced with a sadness that matched your own. “When I saw you left it at home today, I grabbed it. I hope that was okay?”

His eyes held such deep emotion that it almost broke you. It was the kind of look that spoke of shared loss, of knowing all too well the pain of losing someone who was a part of your soul.

“Of course, Stevie,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. Your hands shook as you slipped the ring onto your finger, its familiar weight both comforting and heartbreaking. Another timeline where you didn’t get what you should have. Another reminder of the love that was taken from you, that you were once so close to having.

You stared at the ring, the symbol of a love that transcended time and space. It was a small, simple thing, but it held the weight of all the what-ifs and could-have-beens. You sat there in silence, mourning a life that never was, when Steve pulled out the photographs, laying them carefully between you.

There were pictures of Bucky and you, of Steve and Bucky, and some of all three of you together. As you looked through them, you let Steve retell the memories behind each one. His voice was soft and steady, grounding you as he recounted moments that felt as if they had happened only yesterday. The photographs were almost identical to the ones you had actually created with the boys in your own timeline, each one a snapshot of a life lived together in friendship and love.

One photo caught your eye, and you reached into the box to pick it up. It was a picture of you and Bucky dressed for prom. You inspected it closely, your eyes tracing every detail. It was exactly how you remembered, right down to the dress you wore, the smile on Bucky’s face, the way his arm was wrapped protectively around your waist.

“He couldn’t believe you actually agreed to go with him,” Steve said, a small smile tugging at his lips as he looked at the photo over your shoulder.

You smiled back, the memory warming your heart despite the sadness that lingered. “We had our first kiss that night,” you said, your voice soft with nostalgia.

“And the rest is history,” Steve replied, his tone light but tinged with the same bittersweetness you felt. He smiled, but his eyes were distant, lost in the memory of that night, of a time when everything seemed so much simpler, so full of promise.

“You have no idea,” you whispered, more to yourself than to Steve, as the weight of everything you’d been through settled over you like a shroud. The love you shared with Bucky was more than history—it was a bond that spanned timelines, a connection that not even the chaos of the multiverse could sever.

The two of you sat there in quiet companionship, the silence between you filled with the unspoken understanding of what you had lost and what you had found in each other. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the memories and the unbreakable bond you shared with Bucky—a bond that would endure, no matter what timeline you found yourself in.

Then you felt it. The electricity, the unease of what was about to happen , you know Steve felt it as he stood right up. His protectiveness of you taking over “Stay here” his voice switching over to his Captain America tone, leaking with authority you nodded. You watched him walk off, you grabbed onto your bag with your belongings, putting the photo of Bucky and you before prom in it before dragging you away from the grave, from Steve, from Bucky’s final resting place.

1500s

You landed with a jolt, gasping for air, your heart pounding in your chest. The world around you slowly came into focus— a garden, a fountain, and a castle? What the hell. The ring was still on your finger, the bag still clutched in your hand, but your surroundings were starkly different.

You were no longer in 1958. You had been pulled into yet another timeline.

But this time, something felt different. This time, you weren’t alone.

A voice behind you, low and familiar, sent chills down your spine.

“What are you doing out here?”

You turned slowly, your breath catching in your throat.

There he stood—Bucky. But there was something different in his eyes, something darker, more intense.

“Bucky?” you whispered, unsure.

He moved swiftly, grabbing you by the arms and hoisting you to your feet. “You shouldn’t be out here, love. They could find you.”

“W-who?”

He stopped pulling you once you were concealed by the dense trees, your back pressed against the rough bark. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you again?”

“N-no? Bucky, what’s going on?” You didn’t like this timeline; everything felt too unfamiliar, too dark, too off.

His hands cradled your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks in a way that was both tender and desperate. This Bucky reminded you more of your Bucky than the others you had encountered—the darkness in his eyes, the shadows that told stories of things seen and done, of battles fought and lost. “Our plan is still set for dawn. If you still want to run away with me… if you’ll still have me.” His voice was laced with urgency and vulnerability. “Steve and Sam have everything ready. We just meet here at dawn, and the boys and I will handle the rest.”

His eyes bore into yours, pleading silently, worried that your hesitation was a sign you had changed your mind. He continued, his voice breaking slightly, “I know I can’t give you a castle or the fancy poofy dresses you hate so much.” You smiled at that— even though this wasn’t exactly you he was talking about, it still sounded like you. “But I promise I’ll love you with everything I have. No one will ever hurt you or lay a finger on you again. I love you… please, doll.”

“Bucky,” you whispered, reaching up to place your hand over his, “of course I’m still with you. It’s always you. There’s no me without you.” Literally, you thought. If only he knew the true extent of what you meant.

He let out the breath he had been holding, his shoulders relaxing. “Okay, okay.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Go back to your room. One small bag with your must-haves, remember? Leave the rest behind. We’ll start over together. Try not to talk to anyone. We meet back here at dawn.”

You nodded, and he smiled—that familiar smile that had followed you through so many timelines. “Okay, Bucky, I’ll see you soon.”

He grabbed your hands, pressing a kiss to each of your knuckles. “I’ll see you soon.” Then he turned, disappearing back into the trees.

You sighed, turning to make your way back to what you assumed was where you lived—a castle, no less. You had to be way back in time. You moved stealthily through the hallways, avoiding anyone you saw, making your way up the stairs. Your enhanced abilities made it easy to hear if people were coming or if a room was occupied, until you found one that seemed like yours. The confirmation came when you stepped inside and noticed a slightly off-looking floorboard. You smiled—of course, you would have a secret hiding spot.

Locking the door behind you, you added extra precaution by wedging a chair under the handle. You knelt by the floorboard and used a letter opener to pry it up, revealing a small bag tucked inside. Opening it, you found mementos, trinkets, but mostly letters.

You carefully unfolded one of the letters, your heart racing as you recognized Bucky’s handwriting. The words were filled with love and hope, speaking of a future you both dreamed of, away from the dangers and the darkness that surrounded you:

My Dearest Love,

Each day apart from you feels like an eternity. My heart aches for you, and every moment without you is a moment lost. When I close my eyes, I see your face, so beautiful and full of light, and when I gaze up at the stars, I find solace in knowing that we are both under the same sky. I see your eyes in every twinkle, as if the heavens themselves reflect the love we share.

Steve has brought troubling news—rumours that your father is pushing you towards marriage with that wretched George. The mere thought of you in his arms is unbearable to me. But hear me now, my love: I will not allow this fate to befall you. You are mine, as I am yours, and nothing in this world will keep us apart.

I have devised a plan, one that will bring us together once and for all. In three weeks’ time, we will be free. Meet me at our secret place, where the willow bends by the riverbank. I will be waiting for you there, ready to take you far from this place, where we can live the life we have dreamed of—together, without fear, without chains.

Until that moment, hold on to the thought of us, of the life we will soon share. Let it give you strength, as your love gives me mine. We will be together, my sweet girl, I swear it to you with all that I am.

Yours, now and forever,

With all the love in my heart,

B.B.

This bag was filled with letters from Bucky to you—hundreds of them. Each one was a testament to the love you shared, a forbidden love that defied the rules of time and space. It was fate. In every timeline, it was fate.

Each letter was a promise, a piece of the life you both yearned for, a life you were determined to reach if you could just make it to dawn.

As you placed the letters back into the bag, your resolve strengthened. The version of you here wasn’t just running away with Bucky—you were running toward the life you both deserved, a life free from the chains of expectations and the weight of secrecy.

You packed a few essentials into the small bag, knowing you couldn’t take much, but also knowing that what truly mattered wasn’t what you left behind, but who you were moving forward with. As you finished, you took one last look around the room—this life, and the person you had been here—aware that in just a few hours, you would be leaving it all behind.

Steeling yourself, you clutched the bag close and whispered to the empty room, “We’ll make it, Bucky. She’ll see you at dawn.”

With that, you slipped out of the room and into the shadows, ready for whatever the future—whatever this timeline—had in store for you.

Once outside, you carefully placed the bag by the tree, hoping that when you were inevitably pulled back through the multiverse, the you from this timeline would replace you in this spot. She would see the bag and know—because she would just know. You couldn’t leave everything behind, though. You slipped one of the letters into the bag you were still hauling around, the one with your Avengers gear, along with the photo of you and Bucky on your wedding day, and the one of the two of you on the way to the dance—the night of your first kiss.

You held the bag tight, feeling the surge of energy building around you. The air crackled with electricity, the atmosphere growing thick with anticipation. You braced yourself as the vortex of yellow and blue hues began to swirl around you, pulling you back into the multiverse.

As the world spun and twisted, you closed your eyes, clutching the letter and photos close to your heart. You didn’t know where you would land next, but one thing was certain—you would find him again. No matter how many timelines you had to traverse, no matter how many obstacles stood in your way, you would always find Bucky. But you wanted your Bucky

So as you were being tossed around you did something different this time, you thought of memories from your timeline. You kept picturing your Bucky. His long hair, his vibranium arm, his eye crinkles, the nose scrunch. His haunting blue eyes, the way his arms feel around you. The way you felt when you were reunited, the way his lips felt on yours.

2024

You crashed into the glass table at the compound, landing with a loud, painful thud. The impact knocked the wind out of you, and black spots danced across your vision. Voices filled the air, overlapping with the ringing in your ears and the pounding in your head. This was different—much worse than any landing in the other timelines. But then again, you hadn’t smashed into a glass table before.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you squinted through the blurriness. The compound slowly came into focus—familiar, yet surreal after everything you’d been through. You tried to gauge how this timeline felt, but your senses were overloaded. Through the haze, you recognized a voice.

“Tony?” you croaked.

His eyes were wide with shock and something you couldn’t quite place—relief? “Holy shit! It worked!” He looked at you, disbelief melting into excitement. “Is this…?” he gestured at you.

Strange stepped forward, his expression calm but with a faint smile. “The timelines are at peace. It’s her,” he confirmed, nodding at Tony before turning to you. “You’re back.”

Tears welled in your eyes. “I’m back,” you whispered, the reality settling in. “I’m really back.” You pushed yourself up, but the dizziness hit you hard. Tony reached out to steady you.

“Your senses might be slightly off as your body readjusts to its proper timeline,” Strange explained, his tone reassuring. “But with your enhanced capabilities, it shouldn’t take long.” He gave Tony a final nod before stepping back into one of his magical yellow portals—what you and Bucky had always called them.

Bucky. The thought of him hit you like a freight train. You turned to Tony, panic rising in your chest. “W-where is he?”

“He’s on his way,” Tony replied quickly. “FRIDAY alerted him. Cap had to get him out of the compound—he was getting hostile. They went for a run.”

You nodded, trying to process everything. “How long have I been gone?”

“Two months,” Tony said gently. “We should get you to medical, get you checked out. You fell through my table, for Christ’s sake.”

“To me, it felt like a few hours,” you muttered, the enormity of it all weighing down on you. No wonder you felt so disoriented—what had been mere hours for you had been two long months here.

“Mr. Rogers, Mr. Wilson, and Mr. Barnes are back,” FRIDAY announced.

“I need to see him first,” you insisted, tears spilling down your cheeks as you pushed past Tony and sprinted toward the direction where you knew Bucky would be coming from.

You could hear all three sets of footsteps. Sam’s were slower, lighter, trailing behind. Steve’s were steady and precise, not far behind. But Bucky’s—Bucky’s were frantic, almost desperate, pounding toward you with an urgency that made your heart race.

When you rounded the corner, you saw them. The sight of Bucky made you stop in your tracks, your bag slipping from your fingers to the ground. Your hands flew to your face as a sob of pure relief escaped your lips. “Bucky.”

They all halted at the sight of you—except Bucky. He didn’t hesitate. He closed the distance between you in a heartbeat, pulling you firmly into his arms. His grip was tight, almost as if he was afraid you’d slip away again.

You clung to him just as fiercely, burying your face in his chest, inhaling the scent that was so uniquely him. “I’m here, Bucky. I’m here,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m not letting you go again.”

You stood there in Bucky’s arms for what felt like hours—maybe even an eternity—and you wouldn’t have minded. It was as if time itself had slowed down, letting you savor the moment. When you finally pulled back slightly, your hands traveled up his arms, over the familiar contrast of flesh and vibranium, before resting gently on his face. He held onto your waist firmly, grounding you both in the reality of this moment.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “It’s really you.”

Behind you, Tony’s footsteps approached, a reminder of the world outside your reunion. “Barnes, we need her in medical. She literally fell through my table,” he said, his tone half-joking but mostly concerned.

Bucky nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. He gently took your hand off his face, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles before lacing his fingers with yours. Together, you began to walk toward the medbay.

“Wait!” You suddenly stopped, turning back to retrieve your bag.

“What’s in that?” Steve’s voice came from beside you, his hand resting warmly on your shoulder.

You smiled up at him, reaching into the bag to pull out two photographs and a letter. Handing them to Steve, you watched as he stared at the images in shock before passing them to Bucky, your Bucky. Steve unfolded the letter, his eyes scanning the words that transcended time.

Then, you lifted your left hand, sliding off the ring that had been a symbol across lifetimes. You placed it in Steve’s palm, then removed a bracelet, handing it to Bucky. “There our birthstones,” you said softly, noticing how Bucky’s eyes began to water. “Look inside.”

Bucky’s voice was thick with emotion as he read the inscription aloud: “Mr. & Mrs. Barnes, June 8th, 1930 - A timeless love.”

“Holy shit,” Sam finally spoke, breaking the reverent silence.

You nodded, feeling the weight of all the timelines you had traversed. You glanced at Steve, then back at Bucky, your heart full of certainty. “In every timeline I was in,” you said, your voice steady, “you both were always there.”

Turning fully to Bucky, you let a tear slip down your cheek as you continued, “It’s always been you. Every time, in every world, it was always us.”

Bucky pulled you close again, his arms wrapping around you as if he could merge the fractured pieces of time that had kept you apart. “And it always will be,” he whispered into your hair, his voice filled with unshakeable conviction.

In that moment, surrounded by the people who had been with you in every timeline, every reality, you knew that your journey through the multiverse had finally led you home. There was no more running, no more searching. You were where you were meant to be—with the person you were always meant to be with.

It was a love that had defied time, space, and every obstacle the universe had thrown your way. And now, standing in the place where it all began, you knew it would last forever.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #avengers fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #james barnes x you #james barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader angst #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

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sweetsummermaester · 29 days ago

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Hot take on the Justin Sweet calendar cover:

Everyone keeps sighing over “Rhaegar + Lyanna star-crossed lovers under a heart-tree! 😍✨ but y’all, that weirwood isn’t set dressing. It’s the point.

The heart-tree is basically a two ton neon sign that says “PROPHECY BUSINESS, NOT DATE NIGHT.”

Weirwoods are the Old Gods’ data centers basically carved faces, red sap “bleeding,” greenseer wifi Rhaegar grew up drenched in Valyrian scroll-dust basically dragging Lyanna (a Stark, old-gods blood) to a heart-tree is him crossing the streams. Fire meets Ice in literal plant form.

Sweet paints the roots like pale tentacles wrapping the couple. That’s not cozy romance. That’s destiny wrapping a choke chain.

Location, location, location (and why it matters more than smooches).

Most likely setting = Harrenhal godswood: the only southern heart-tree big enough to dwarf them. It’s the same tourney site where Rhaegar crowned her Queen of Love & Beauty. Blue roses → blue rose crown → blue rose offerings in perhaps a snow vision he has. Foreshadowing? Scribbled in giant red letters.

Runner-up = Isle of Faces. Supercharged weirwood zone guarded by Green Men. If Rhaegar wanted a place to seal an old-gods marriage or get a cosmic confirmation on his “dragon has three heads” theory, that island’s basically the wifi router of Westeros myth.

What was going through silver-boy’s head? Probably this

If I bond Stark wolf-blood to dragonfire, prophecy = solved. Azor Ahai? Prince That Was Promised? Check, check. Visenya maybe (He did see dany when she was in the house of the undying I stand by that) The weirwood witnesses the oath, the old gods sign the contract, everyone goes home happy… eventually.

Translation: Rhaegar isn’t courting he’s making a sales pitch to the universe. Lyanna’s standing there open-palmed, half lit like dawn, half in shadow. He’s half turned, hand on the sword hilt, still a prince, still weighing risk vs. reward. Romance is the garnish the entrée is cosmic calculus.

Symbolic cheat-sheet for anyone who wants to stop calling it a “forbidden love scene”

Alright im going to get dragged i know..

#asoiaf meta #got meta #rhaegar targaryen #lyanna stark #rhaegar x lyanna #weirwood tree #harrenhal #isle of faces #targaryen lore #asoiaf fandom #game of thrones fandom

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webslinger-holland · 1 year ago

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Running Bets | Hunter from The Bad Batch

Summary: The Bad Batch likes to make bets during missions, especially when things get really chaotic.

Warning: mentions of death, weapons, and droids being dismembered

Pairing: Hunter x Fem!Reader Jedi

Word Count: 3.5k

Type: Oneshot

The Bad Batch were currently away on another one of their missions. They found themselves aboard a modified Providence-Class Separatist Dreadnought which served as General Grievous's main command ship. Their mission was quite simple: infiltrate the naval warship, retrieve a piece of valuable intel, and return it back to the jedi council.

A few years prior, the Kaminoans had specifically requested for the Jedi Council to select and send a Jedi to come work with the rebellious group of clones. They had hoped being under the command of a jedi master would beat them into shape and teach them how to properly follow orders.

However, the Kaminoans didn't know what they had gotten themselves into when General L/n was sent to work with The Bad Batch. She was the only jedi who jumped at the opportunity to lead the group of misfits since nobody else wanted to be assigned to them. She came with her own sense of recklessness that only added to the squads over-the-top plans and inability to follow order the 'right way.'

Now, just a few years later, the five members of the Bad Batch stood in front of a closed corridor on the dreadnought. There was a comfortable silence that settled over them which was only interrupted a few times by Crosshair clicking the scope of his sniper rifle, Wrecker cracking his knuckles in preparation for the fight ahead of them, and Tech tapping away at his data pad. They stared at the closed door right in front of them, growing slightly impatient.

"Ugh," Wrecker groaned while rolling his eyes in annoyance. "What's taking so long?"

"I am trying to crack into the ship's security system. It's a complex system, but once I'm in, I'll be able to access all the doors of the dreadnought and open this one for us," Tech explained to them. He was kneeling beside the data panel beside the door, pressing some buttons in the process.

The only problem was that the rest of them had tuned him out after the word 'security.'

"Why can't I just smash through the doors? It'll be a lot quicker than this," Wrecker argued.

"Because that would give away the element of surprise," Hunter interjected. "Nobody knows we're here."

"And I, for one, would like to keep it that way," General L/n added.

"Just hurry up, will you?" Wrecker groaned. "I'm dying to crush some droids."

"I've...almost...got...it," Tech said rather slowly while pressing buttons on the panel quickly.

The screen became illuminated with a shade of green, which shown in the reflection of his goggles adorned on his face. He was now granted access to the entire ship's security system via his data pad. He stood back up to join his brothers. He pressed a few buttons on his data pad to open the large sealed blast door in front of them.

"Eyes up. We don't know what we're up against on the other side of this," Hunter told the rest of the group. They waited for the door to open for them. He drew his own two blasters out of the holsters, keeping them ready for a fight.

The other members of the group seemed to follow his actions by readying their own weapons. The general, who stood in the front and center of the group, decided to pull her own two lightsabers from her belt. Her thumbs lingering over the button in preparation for activation. Her eyes trained on the sealed door in front of her, holding her breath in anticipation.

"Care to wager a bet, boys?" She hoped it would put the rest of them at ease.

"Don't we always?" Crosshair inquired with a slight hint of sarcasm in his tone.

"Loser has to clean the ship including the refresher," Y/n smirked to herself. She glanced over her shoulder to meet Wrecker's gaze.

"That's not that bad of a punishment," Wrecker scoffed while his shoulders slumped in slight disappointment.

"Have you seen the ship recently? Can't even see the floor," Hunter interjected.

"It has gotten pretty bad," Tech agreed. Oddly enough, Tech was easily one of the messiest ones because of all the little projects he left lying around. One could trip over all the cords and wires on the ground.

"Fine," Wrecker groaned more to himself. "Loser cleans the ship."

"Including the refresher," Y/n quickly added, not wanting him to miss out that little detail because she had every intention of making sure he lost today.

"Including the refresher," Wrecker grumbled under his breath.

"Whenever you're ready, Tech." The General was prepared for the fight ahead of them, keeping a firm grip on the two lightsabers in her grasp. She readjusted her stance and lifted her lightsabers up in a defensive manner.

Finally, as if on cue, Tech pressed a single button on his data pad which activated the blast doors in front of them. The doors began opening slowly from the center, retracting back into the walls and revealing the vast hallway corridor in front of them.

What the Bad Batch hadn't expected was to find the corridor completely packed with the traditional B-1 battle droids. There had to have been fifty or sixty of them standing around with blasters in hand. Their long yellow heads seemed to turn towards the source of the noise all simultaneously.

"A jedi?" One of the closer droids exclaimed in slight surprise. He pointed towards the group to signal the others. "Blast them!"

Before the droids even had a chance to start firing, General L/n had activated her two yellow lightsabers and charged straight towards the company of clankers. She dodged each of their shots, moving swiftly from left to right. Once she got close enough to them, she swiftly swung her lightsaber to slice through the base of their blasters, rendering them useless.

Behind her, the rest of them started firing their own shots and taking out droids while making their way down the corridor. Each of them showcasing their own unique style of fighting. While Crosshair usually lingered behind the group to take his precise shots, Wrecker always charged head on and fired wildly at anything in sight. There was Hunter who liked switching between blasters and blades, but often kept to his knifes as a preference. In contrast, Tech always carried two blasters and fired calculated shots.

Despite all their differences, the Bad Batch successfully worked together as a team. The General also had a different strategy. She always rushed head on; though it wasn't because she was eager for the fight, but more so because she wanted to protect the others if she could. Her two lightsabers acted as their only defense in many situations. And they trusted her enough to cover them.

Taking more droids down, Tech quickly maneuvered his way through a clear and open path until he stood in front of the next closed door. His twin joined his side and covered his back so he could have the time to open the next door without getting shot. However, when Tech pressed the button on his data pad, the doors in front of him didn't open and his data pad flashed red.

"Uh oh," Tech said to himself.

"Uh oh?" Hunter repeated. He grabbed the blade of his knife before throwing it across the room, sticking directly into a battle droid's head. "What does 'uh oh' mean, Tech?" Hunter demanded an answer.

"This door isn't opening," Tech explained shortly. He kept pressing buttons on his data pad in hopes that it would open if he tried a different combination.

"I thought --" Y/n grunted as she sliced through another droid. "You said you overroad the ship's security system and that you'd have full access to all doors."

"I did," Tech replied with a strong sense of frustration in his voice.

Pressing one final button, the door opened ever so slightly but then closed again. There had to be someone on the other side, operating the system to keep it closed from them.

"Someone is intentionally trying to keep this door closed and keep us out," Tech announced to the rest of them. His eyes scanned the vast space of the door, thinking about how he could get through.

"Well, get it open." Y/n replied.

Kneeling down beside the door, Tech got to work by prying the metal panel away from the wall. His skillful fingers threaded through the various colorful wires, searching for a cord to connect to his data pad. He called out to the others, saying he was gonna need a minute to break through.

As Tech worked steadily, Crosshair stood right beside him and fired strategically from his sniper's rifle. He took out droids who even turned in their general direction, not wanting them to get remotely close to them.

Just as the group of battle droids was beginning to thin, the doors on the left and right side of them opened to reveal more. The droids marched right into the fight, acting as the reinforcements to protect whatever was locked behind the main door. They fired relentlessly which was starting to put a strain on the group.

At some point, Wrecker had abandoned his rapid firing blaster and decided to just rip droids apart. It wasn't that hard of a task since they were made of a relatively cheap metal. He'd simply grab a droid, tear the limps off, and toss the remaining parts to the side. He threw one of the droid's bodies into the crowd coming into the corridor, which ended up knocking some of them down.

"I've got ten already!" Wrecker announced over the loud blaster fire echoing in the room. He smiled proudly to himself as he tore the arms off another droid.

"I'm on seventeen," Y/n called back. She could have sworn she heard the sergeant chuckled behind his helmet.

"Wha--" Wrecker was at a loss for words. He retrieved his blaster once again, firing rapidly in hopes of taking down more droids than his companion.

As she sliced through two more droids, Y/n turned her head and looked over her shoulder. She wore an amused smile on her face when she announced: "Nineteen!"

"You're falling behind, Wrecker." Crosshair taunted from the sidelines. He went to adjust his scope before pulling the trigger a few more times, watching the droids fall from behind it.

"Yeah? How many are you on?" Wrecker asked snakily.

"Don't worry about it."

In the center of the room, Hunter had pulled his vibroblade out of the sheath on his forearm. He jabbed the knife into the backs of droids, sendings jolts of electricity through them and taking their main computing systems out. He worked through the growing crowd of clankers, moving between them smoothly in a way that managed to dodge their firepower.

Upon turning, Hunter spotted a couple of them pointing their blasters directly at him. He dropped down to the floor just as they began firing, getting out of the way just in the knick of time. He summersaulted towards them, swiping his leg out to take out their legs from underneath them. The three droids fell to the floor. He plunged his knife into their heads before they had a chance to regain composure.

"How's that door coming, Tech?" Hunter inquired.

Now Tech was working steadily at cracking the system's code. He just needed a little bit more time, which he was certain his brothers could grant him. At first, Tech didn't respond to Hunter's question. All of the sudden, a battle droid had come to approach him and stood directly beside him.

"Halt," the droid ordered him.

Without looking up, Tech pulled one of his blasters out of his holster. He raised it quickly and fired a single shot, which managed to lodge itself directly into the droid's head. He pocketed his blaster again as the droid collapsed right beside him and went right back to work on the door.

"Just a few more adjustments," Tech replied to the others. He clicked a few more buttons on his data pad, but nothing that effected their current situation. They were still stuck in the corridor and more droids were filtering in by the second.

"You're taking a long time. Thought you were supposed to be the smart one," Wrecker called out. He grabbed another droid, raising it above his head and sending it hurdling down the corridor to take out another company of them.

"I am the smart one," Tech reassured them with a hint of bluntness in his voice. He did not look the slightest bit amused by Wrecker's comment.

"Heads up," Hunter announced.

He took out an electro magnet pulse grenade, pressed the button on the side to activate it and threw it into a crowd of droids coming into the corridor. The grenade landed at the feet of the droids before random bursts of electricity and energy surged from it. The droids' bodies shook from the electricity, shutting them down.

Despite their efforts, more droids just kept coming after them. It seemed like it was a never ending steady flow of them. When one droid went down, another two would come into the corridor to replace them. The amount of dead droids littering the ground with becoming overwhelming.

At some point, Hunter was firing shots towards droids coming from the left and Y/n was deflecting blasts coming from droids on the right side. They met in the center of the room; their backs pressing together. The two of them moved in a synchronized harmony, trusting that the other was able to cover their backs and silently communicating with their timed movements.

Tapping into the force. Y/n raised her two lightsabers over her head and forced them to form an 'x' shape directly in front of Hunter's helmet. This movement deflected a single blaster shot that was intended to strike the sergeant in the head. If it hadn't been for her senses and his stillness in that movement, Hunter would've taken the shot to the head. But that wasn't gonna happen on her watch.

"Thanks," Hunter peered over his shoulder.

"Don't mention it," Y/n waved it off.

With their backs pressed together, Hunter and Y/n continued to work together to take down the droids coming at them. The two of them moved with ultimate precision that they dominated the field. They'd never danced like this before.

At this point, Wrecker and Crosshair had stopped firing their own shots just to watch the others in action. The immediate threat was gone now as the number of droids firing at them had dwindled drastically.

Spotting the last four droids coming towards them in a line, Y/n took a single step away from her partner. She twisted her body to launch her lightsaber down the hallway, watching the yellow blade circle rapidly towards them. The lightsaber effortlessly sliced through the droids heads and they clattered to the ground. Before the lightsaber made contact with the wall, Y/n summoned it back into her hand and switched it off. She pocketed them both onto her belt.

The four members of the squad met in the center of the room while the other continued working on the connecting wires to his data pad. They briefly glanced at the mass amounts of unmoving droids by their feet, kicking a few limbs out of the way. At last, Wrecker flopped down on a small pile of droids. He looked at each of them with a strong sense of anticipation.

"Final count," Crosshair began. He adjusted the scope on his rifle for long range. He smirked to himself at the mere thought of winning the contest. "Thirty-three."

"Thirty-three," Wrecker repeated calmly. He nodded his head understandingly. "That's not bad for the squad's resident sniper."

Upon hearing this, Crosshair glanced up at him with eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion. He halted his movements, studying the way his brother looked so pleased with himself.

"I, myself am sitting on thirty-four," Wrecker smirked to himself.

Before Wrecker could revel the fact that he outscored his younger brother in a battle, a single blaster bolt struck the droid he was sitting beneath right in between his legs. He glanced down at the sizzling strike.

"Thirty-four," Crosshair smirked to himself. He lowered his rifle once again.

"He was already dead," Wrecker argued.

"I saw him twitching," Crosshair suggested. He shrugged his shoulders at the notion. But Wrecker only became more enraged by this.

"He was twitching because I removed all of his limbs!" Wrecker shouted. Sure enough, the droid was still twitching slightly beneath him since the main operating system located in the head went undamaged in the fight.

"Are you two done yet?" Y/n wondered. She glanced between the two of them. "My final count was forty-eight."

"That's not fair," Wrecker groaned. "You had a head start."

"I always have a head start," Y/n recalled all of their missions together where she went charging head on to defend the others. "This wasn't any different than all the other times."

"Sergeant?" Crosshair questioned with a crocked eyebrow. The sergeant stood with his arms crossed against his chest; an amused look settling over his face.

"Fifty," Hunter announced.

The rest of them only groaned in utter annoyance. This was certainly not the first time the sergeant managed to outperform them and it wasn't going to be the last time. He claimed his victory silently, relishing the looks of disappointment on their faces.

"Looks like Wrecker and Crosshair will be cleaning the ship since they tied," Hunter told them.

"No," Wrecker went to argue. He rose to his feet. "Tech has to do it. He only got like four kills."

"Tech was a little occupied with other things. Like working on the door," Hunter told him. He glanced over his shoulder to find him still tinkering away at the data pad near the door.

"Then it should be Crosshair," Wrecker pointed to him. "That last one shouldn't count."

"Wrecker," Y/n called in a warning tone. "You both lost. Admit it."

"Fine," Wrecker huffed to himself. His shoulders slumping down at his sides. "I'll clean the ship," Wrecker added.

"And the refresher," Hunter recalled. She glanced at him through the corner of her eyes with nothing but admiration behind them.

"Yeah. Yeah. I'll do that too," Wrecker agreed to the terms.

Just then, Tech clicked the last button on his data pad to activate the door in front of him. His data pad glowed green, which meant the system had been overrun thanks to his expertise. The rest of them turned to direct their attention to the opening door, seeing the vast array of data forms in the control center.

Slowly, the Bad Batch came to approach the opening to the control center. Their eyes scanned over the various glowing white tubes attached to one central column in the room. Whatever they had come for, they were sure to find somewhere in there. Now they just needed their resident 'smart one' to locate the intel they'd come for.

"Nice work, Tech." Hunter spoke. "Let's locate the intel and get out of here as quick as we can."

All of the sudden, Y/n was able to feel a slight disturbance in the force. A dark wicked figure had graced their presence directly behind them. The sound of metallic claws for feet ground against the floor in approach. The presence was an all-too familiar one to go unnoticed or unrecognized.

The Jedi General had encountered this imposing figure one other time in her life, which was when he brutally murdered her master in combat. Ever since then, Y/n had grown to fear him and never wanted to face him. But now here he was standing behind them and blocking their only exit.

His cybernetic enhancements gave him exceptional strength, speed and reflexes to outmaneuver force-users. He wielded four lightsabers (one for each mechanical arm) and often overwhelmed the jedi with them. His most intimidating feature was his height alone, standing at nearly seven feet tall and towering over most of his encounters.

"General Y/n," the mysterious voice announced from behind them.

The other members of the squad quickly spun around on the heels of their feet, raising their blasters directly towards the menacing figure on the other end of the hallway. They moved to stand in front of their own general in hopes of protecting her.

"It's been a long time since our last encounter."

Now, coming to the realization that she could no longer run from her past, Y/n found herself turning around to face her demons. Her eyes landed on the familiar figure who had slaughtered her master, feeling her heart drop into the pit of her stomach.

It was almost like he could sense her fear of him despite not being a force sensitive being. He cackled to himself, which was something else that still haunted her too. She could still hear the way he laughed over her master's dead body. She went to retrieve her lightsabers from her belt, feeling the strong sense of anger overtaking her senses.

Because today would be the day she took down General Grievous.

#the bad batch #star wars #crosshair #echo #tech #wrecker #tbb #tbb hunter x fem!reader jedi #tbb hunter fluff #tbb hunter angst #tbb hunter x you #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb hunter oneshot #tbb hunter imagine

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screentones-webcomicresources · 1 year ago

Text

There are many web hosting companies to choose from if you're taking the plunge into making your own website with a comic content management system (CMS) like ComicControl or Grawlix, a Wordpress comic theme like Toocheke or ComicPress, or a HTML template to cut/paste code like Rarebit. While these solutions are generally free, finding a home for them is... generally not. It can be hard to choose what's best for your webcomic AND your budget!

We took a look at a few of the top hosting services used by webcomics creators using webcomic CMSes, and we put out a poll to ask your feedback about your hosts!

This post may be updated as time goes on as new services enter the hosting arena, or other important updates come to light.

Questions:

💻 I can get a free account with Wix/Squarespace/Carrd, could I just use those for my comic? - Web hosts like this may have gallery functions that could be adapted to display a series of pages, but they are very basic and not intended for webcomics.

📚 Wait, I host on Webtoon, Tapas, Comic Fury, or some other comic website, why are they not here? - Those are comic platforms! We'll get into those in a future post!

🕵️‍♀️Why does it say "shared hosting"? Who am I sharing with? - "Shared hosting" refers to sharing the server space with other customers. They will not have access to your files or anything, so it is perfectly fine to use for most comic CMSes. You may experience slowing if there is too much activity on a server, so if you're planning to host large files or more than 10 comics, you may want to upgrade to a more robust plan in the future.

Web Host List

Neocities

Basic plan pricing: Free or $5/month. Free plan has more restrictions (1 GB space, no custom domain, and slower bandwidth, among other things)

Notes: Neocities does not have database support for paid or free accounts, and most comic CMS solutions require this (ComicCtrl, Grawlix, Wordpress). You will need to work with HTML/CSS files directly to make a website and post each page.

Hostinger

Basic plan pricing: $11.99/month or $7.99/month with four year commitment (monthly, 1, 2, and 4 year plans available).

Notes: Free domain for the 1st year. Free SSL Certifications. Weekly backups.

KnownHost

Basic plan pricing: $8.95/month or $7.99/month with four year commitment (monthly, 1, 2, and 4 year plans available).

Notes: Free DDOS protection. Free SSL Certifications.

InMotion Hosting

Basic plan pricing: $12.99/month or $9.99/month with three year commitment (monthly, 1, and 3 year plans available).

Notes: Free SSL Certifications, free domain names for 1 and 3 year plans. 24/7 live customer service and 90-day money-back guarantee. Inmotion also advertises eco-friendly policies: We are the first-ever Green Data Center in Los Angeles. We cut cooling costs by nearly 70 percent and reduce our carbon output by more than 2,000 tons per year.

Reviews:

👍“I can't remember it ever going down.”

👍“InMotion has a pretty extensive library full of various guides on setting up and managing websites, servers, domains, etc. Customer service is also fairly quick on responding to inquiries.” 👎“I wish it was a bit faster with loading pages.”

Ionos Hosting

Basic plan pricing: $8/month or $6/month with three year commitment (monthly, 1, 2 and 3 year plans available).

Notes: Free domain for the first year, free SSL Certification, Daily backup and recovery is included. Site Scan and Repair is free for the first 30 days and then is $6/month.

Reviews:

👍“Very fast and simple” 👎“Customer service is mediocre and I can't upload large files”

Bluehost

Basic plan pricing: $15.99/month or $4.95/month with three year commitment (monthly, 1, 3 year plans available).

Notes: Free domain and SSL certificates (for first year only). 24/7 Customer Service. Built to handle higher traffic websites. Although they specialize in Wordpress websites and provide updates automatically, that's almost a bad thing for webcomic plugins because they will often break your site. Their cloud hosting services are currently in early access with not much additional information available.

Reviews:

👎"The fees keep going up. Like I could drop $100 to cover a whole year, but now I'm paying nearly $100 for just three months. It's really upsetting."

👎"I have previously used Bluehost’s Wordpress hosting service and have had negative experiences with the service, so please consider with a grain of salt. I can confirm at least that their 24/7 customer service was great, although needed FAR too often."

Dreamhost

Basic plan pricing: $7.99/month or $5.99/month with three year commitment (monthly, 1, 3 year plans available).

Notes: Free SSL Certificates, 24/7 support with all plans, 97-day moneyback guarantee. Not recommended for ComicCtrl CMS

Reviews:

👍“They've automatically patched 2 security holes I created/allowed by mistake.” 👍“Prices are very reasonable” 👎 “back end kind of annoying to use” 👎 “wordpress has some issues” 👎 “it's not as customizable as some might want“

GoDaddy

Basic plan pricing: $11.99/month or $9.99/month with three year commitment (monthly, 1, 2, and 3 year plans available).

Notes: Free 24/7 Customer service with all plans, Free SSL Certificates for 1 year, free domain and site migration.

Reviews:

👍Reasonable intro prices for their Economy hosting, which has 25GB of storage 👍Migrated email hosting service from cPanel to Microsoft Office, which has greater support but may not be useful for most webcomic creators. 👎 Many site issues and then being upsold during customer service attempts. 👎 Server quality found lacking in reviews 👎 Marketing scandals in the past with a reputation for making ads in poor taste. Have been attempting to clean up that image in recent years. 👎 “GoDaddy is the McDonald's of web hosting. Maybe the Wal-Mart of hosting would be better. If your website was an object you would need a shelf to put it on. You go to Wal-Mart and buy a shelf. It's not great. It's not fancy. It can only hold that one thing. And if we're being honest - if the shelf broke and your website died it wouldn't be the end of the world.The issue comes when you don't realize GoDaddy is the Wal-Mart of hosting. You go and try to do things you could do with a quality shelf. Like, move it. Or add more things to it.” MyWorkAccountThisIs on Reddit*

Things to consider for any host:

💸 Introductory/promotional pricing - Many hosting companies offer free or inexpensive deals to get you in the door, and then raise the cost for these features after the first year or when you renew. The prices in this post are the base prices that you can expect to pay after the promotional prices end, but may get outdated, so you are encouraged to do your own research as well.

💻 Wordpress hosting - Many of the companies below will have a separate offering for Wordpress-optimized hosting that will keep you updated with the latest Wordpress releases. This is usually not necessary for webcomic creators, and can be the source of many site-breaking headaches when comic plugins have not caught up to the latest Wordpress releases.

Any basic hosting plan on this list will be fine with Wordpress, but expect to stop or revert Wordpress versions if you go with this as your CMS.

🤝 You don't have to go it alone - While free hosts may be more limited, paid hosting on a web server will generally allow you to create different subdomains, or attach additional purchased domains to any folders you make. If you have other comic-making friends you know and trust, you can share your server space and split the cost!

Want to share your experience?

Feel free to contribute your hosting pros, cons, and quirks on our survey! We will be updating our list periodically with your feedback!

#masterlist #webcomic hosting #webhosts

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fleur-a-whump · 10 months ago

Text

Overloaded (#5)

Rocky Reunions Pt. 2

More Kai being grumpy plus his team!!

previous | masterlist | next

CW: uhh shock collar, mentioned electrocution, whumpee paraded around, ex-villain whumpee, hero whumper, hero caretakers

Kai plops into the auditorium seat next to Elijah, letting out a long suffering sigh. His partner chuckles slightly, accustomed to his moodiness and drama, but when he catches a glimpse of Kai’s tight expression, he stops.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, as the Hero League Director and council walk out on the stage. They take their seats at the curved council table, outfitted with microphones and interrupted by a tall center podium, settling in to conduct the briefing.

Kai shakes his head, not wanting to get into it when the meeting is about to start. Elijah gives him a look.

“Later,” he promises, softening, giving him a small, reassuring smile.

Elijah nods and turns to the stage as the meeting begins.

Director Jaida Murphy stands tall and composed at the center podium, her serious face breaking easily into a winning smile once the auditorium has settled. Her voice is loud and clear over the speakers, swiftly silencing any lingering murmurs of the crowd.

“Thank you all for coming to this month’s briefing. We have many things to cover on the docket today so let’s go ahead and get going. First and foremost, Secretary Cho, will you read the previous meeting’s minutes?” she says, turning to the older gentleman at the end of the row, who’s set up with a steno machine.

Kai zones in and out of the tedious meeting. He’s well-practiced in discerning the useless and important parts and is assured by the knowledge that Lizzy, another member of his team, is an obsessive and thorough note-taker. If he accidentally zones out for something important, he can goad her into sharing her notes with him. Though he’d rather avoid the teasing that comes along with that.

He snaps back to attention at the words “villain reform initiative.”

“As you all know, a major responsibility of this organization is to invest in the effective reform of the villains we encounter while protecting the city. Team Delta is currently spearheading a new project which both makes use of insider information from some of the most devious crime syndicates in Hyperion City and actively reforming a major villain, directing his abilities towards the greater good. To tell us more about this new program, please welcome Miguel Toro, and Jasper Lane, also known as Tinker.”

There’s polite applause, underlined by suspicious murmuring, as the two join the council on the stage. Director Murphy steps aside and the two take her place at the podium. Jasper stands just behind Miguel, his face carefully neutral. Kai can make out that the kid is still slightly green after seeing it earlier. He doubts anyone else picks up on it though. He hopes he doesn’t get sick on stage.

What catches his attention most, and likely everyone else’s, is the collar still tightly fastened around his neck. He’d changed his shirt since Kai saw him, now wearing what could be scrubs—or a prisoner’s top—with a v-neck that puts the collar on prominent display. The brazen showcase makes Kai nauseous. It doesn’t sit well with him, no matter what Jasper has done.

He watches the kid's Adam's apple bob against it in anxiety. Kai’s skin prickles as he remembers how badly the electricity hurt him, second hand. He wonders how often they use it.

“Hello,” Miguel says, loudly, firmly, in an attempt to settle the whispers still rippling through the auditorium. He’s not nearly as effective as the Director, but it does quiet some.

“Thank you for allowing us to present this project to you today. Jasper has been working with us for about six months, and we can report only positive results from this venture. He’s used his technopath abilities to improve our equipment and assist on over two dozen missions, most notably with data recovery from the Blitz Family Warehouse reconnaissance mission down at the Wharf last month. Most importantly, as Jasper is the son of old school villain Nero and protege of Psychosis, Jasper has supplied us with invaluable intelligence from within the crime empires these two are orchestrating.”

Kai raises an eyebrow. He knew Tinker was trained by Psychosis, which was intimidating enough, but the kid is also Nero’s son? Nero had essentially been an untouchable keystone in one of the largest syndicates in Hyperion for like 25 years.

No wonder they wanted to keep him close.

“Jasper has restricted, supervised access to technology and his powers. His movement is also restricted and his location is tracked. Jasper has performed very well within these safety precautions and has been a very useful tool in our belt. We believe with properly tailored boundaries and effort made on both sides, this program is replicable with other villains.”

So, you’re just not going to mention the fucking shock collar? Kai scoffs quietly.

He’s sure the only reason Jasper hasn’t wreaked havoc on the whole tower is they’ve been electrocuting him. Miguel is just peacocking; putting lipstick on the pig that, knowing him, he probably staked his whole career on. He’s been trying to move up the ranks for years.

He watches Miguel bring Jasper forward with what could be a supportive hand on his back, but looks to Kai more like a possessive grip on the back of his neck. Miguel opens the floor to questions, giving non-answers and continuing to speak about Jasper as if he wasn’t there. Jasper stands quietly, entirely stoic through even some of the crueler questions and discussion of his crimes and background. One question does get Kai’s attention though.

“How did this idea come about?”

Miguel stiffens a bit. “We arrested Jasper in the field, and it was my idea to work with him rather than just shuffle him off to prison.”

Kai just barely catches Jasper’s face twitch. He recalls Jasper saying he came to the heroes. He sort of hates that he feels more inclined to believe the villain over the hero.

Then someone finally has the guts to ask about the collar. This time Jasper's response, another twitch like he's holding back a grimace, is more noticeable.

“It's simply a tracking device, fashioned this way to minimize Jasper's opportunities to tamper with it, given that he is technologically inclined.”

Kai nearly jumps out of his seat at that. There's no way he just lied like that. He wouldn't be surprised if a collar like that could kill someone without an affinity for electricity, and Miguel wants to pretend it's just a tracking device?

If he wasn't sure there was something wrong with the whole scenario before, he certainly is now.

Listening to Miguel drone on for the next ten minutes just pisses Kai off more and more. It’s a good thing the presentation was the last order of business. Much longer, and the cups of coffee and water bottles around him would’ve started boiling and bursting as his emotions fueled his powers. Kai’s one of the first people out the door, slamming it open as hard as he can and storming some ways down the hall.

~~~

Kai wants so badly to label Tinker as a villain who should be in prison. He wants to fall back on the comfort of a black and white world that’s been drilled into him by his League training, and not think about the image of the shaking and whimpering villain on the floor just an hour ago. But the whole spectacle made Kai a little queasy; now, he can’t blame Jasper for puking his guts out. And the way Miguel so clearly sees him as a tool, a means to an end to advance his career makes Kai see red. Partly on Jasper’s behalf, partly out of his hatred of Miguel and the politics of the League, and partly out of frustration with himself for caring about, worrying about the infuriating villain.

Kai couldn’t remember ever hearing him speak when they fought—his mask, which covered the lower half of his face, didn’t really allow for it he supposed—but he always got the feeling the kid was laughing at him. That, combined with the way Kai’s powers could actually make Jasper stronger, his electricity more powerful, and how damn fast he was without that even being his power, made every fight so annoying that he’d complain about it till Elijah got sick of it and told him to move on.

Speak of the devil, he hears his partner jogging up behind him as he angrily paces. He stops, forcing himself to let out a long, frustrated sigh as he leans against the wall of the hallway he’d found himself in. Elijah leans against the wall next to him.

“Sooo, I had to set my coffee down during Miguel’s speech because it was getting hotter. Which, y’know, isn’t how that usually works. Wanna talk about it?”

Kai huffs out a light laugh in spite of himself. His boyfriend definitely knows him well.

“Sorry. It was just—well, you know how I feel about Miguel in the first place,” he begins.

Elijah purses his lips. “Mhmm,” he hummed. He’s been hearing about how Kai felt about Miguel since they were in sidekick training together.

“Well, so, I was in one of the bathrooms before the meeting and somebody was throwing up in there, and it was Jasper. Well, before I knew his name was Jasper. I thought, y’know, fucking villain in the Heroes League! And, uh, remind me to tell Mari I burst some more pipes, please,” Kai rambles.

Elijah chuckled. “Will do.”

Kai runs his hands through his hair, putting the thick, dark curls up in a bun to give himself something to do as he speaks. “But, yeah, Jasper told me he was on Miguel’s team, and I went with him to check it out. Halfway there, he just fucking collapsed, twitching and shaking in pain. He was being electrocuted! That wasn't a damn tracker, it was a fucking shock collar!” he exclaims.

“Oh shit,” his partner murmurs. “Miguel lied?”

Kai shakes his head in anger. “Yeah, big surprise. It’s definitely a shock collar, and he’s petrified of it, and they definitely use it. The shock I saw was apparently just a warning.”

“I mean, while I don’t agree with the method, maybe it's a rare thing? They thought he was running away while he was in the bathroom? If he’s confined to their level, I can’t imagine they’d have reason to use it much. Tinker never struck me as the kind to rock the boat with that kind of threat hanging over his head.”

Kai shakes his head again, though he knows Elijah could very well be right. And Tinker is a villain. He’s definitely done bad things.

“I don’t know. I know I shouldn’t care; it’s great that we’re getting intelligence on Nero and Psychosis. And whatever is going on with the “project,” it’s probably better than prison. But I don’t know, something about it is really bugging me. I keep picturing him shaking on the floor,” he finishes quietly, some of the anger ebbing from his body in the calming presence of his partner, only to be replaced by worry—which is almost worse.

Kai tries desperately to find a way to better explain himself, the knot in his stomach that was growing bigger and bigger the more he thought about the kid.

“It’s also just, the whole spectacle, putting him on display and talking about him like he wasn’t even there. He’s obviously just a political pawn for Miguel.”

“Yeah, I picked up on that. It was pretty gross.”

Kai nods. “I don’t know; it pisses me off because I feel bad for him, but he’s a villain, so I shouldn’t, but I definitely do and—ugh.” He runs his hands across his face only to slide them into his hair and tug, totally overwhelmed with the conflict twisting his stomach.

Elijah takes the pause in his rambling to step in front of him and gently pull his hands from his scalp. His thumbs rub soothing little circles across them, as he says, “Hey, first of all, it’s okay to feel whatever you’re feeling. You saw someone in pain, and that felt bad, and that’s a good thing. If it’ll make you feel better, maybe we can find a way to visit him. Just to check in? That team asks for extra manpower all the time. They’re hardly balanced.”

“Yeah, okay, that sounds good.”

Kai sighs dramatically, “Damn moral compass.”

Elijah laughs. “Oh, yeah, you poor thing, you have compassion for other human beings.”

The teasing finally pulls an involuntary smile from Kai, and he gently takes Elijah’s chin for a chaste kiss that’s all goofy grins.

“Thanks, Eli.”

“Anytime,” Elijah says, leaning in for another kiss.

Suddenly there’s a loud groan he’d recognize anywhere from down the hall. Kai reluctantly, a little self-consciously, turns his attention to his team coming down the hall—the other three members having finally tracked the two lovebirds down. The groan definitely came from Isla, the young ginger pyromaniac of the team.

Elijah’s not having it though and pulls Kai back with a soft hand on his cheek.

This time it’s Lizzy’s turn to complain, loudly. “Get a fucking room!”

Kai breaks the kiss to laugh at that, and Elijah gives up. He turns to the team, pouting, “Y’all never let me have any fun.”

He chuckles, but still rubs Elijah’s arm in a simple apology, wordlessly promising to make up for it later. He lets himself be pulled into carefree conversation with his team, doing his best to ignore the knot still settled in his stomach, and the image of Jasper convulsing on the floor still imprinted in his brain.

~~~

I can now show y’all funny little bit of speed brain dump that manifested his and elijah’s dynamic

Kai is not fuckin happy to have a villain in the hero building

Kai witnesses some of the abuse

Kai: Elijah (boyf) help I'm not used to being conflicted like this what is happening to me

Elijah: it's called empathy babe.

Kai: WELL I DONT LIKE IT

Bonus scene w/ Kai’s team and Mira: “Did you have to burst the pipes again, Kai?” “Well, I wasn’t gonna use the fuckin’ toilet water.” “What’s the difference?” “Yuck, you used the sewage water, Kai?” “I know which pipes are clean assholes!” *giggling* “Goddamn, how many times have you burst the bathroom pipes that you just know which ones are clean?” *angry waterboy grumbling*

~~~

tags!! hello friends!! lmk if you wanna be added or removed!!

@whumpsday @sergeant-jasper @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @crystalrose141 @aloafofbreadwithanxiety

@paingoes @elizaisnotokay @quaggasus @defire @tonystark604

@writereleaserepeat @whump-queen @clickerflight @gliittergelpens @kawaii-cakes

@whump-in-a-million @scoundrelwithboba @idkwhattodowiththisaltiamsorry @vampiresprite

#kai has a problem and it's called no impulse control #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump community #overloaded #villain whumpee #heroes and villains #ex villain whumpee #hero whumper #hero caretaker #villain whump #multiple caretakers #shock collar #electrocution

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ladyofthehightower · 4 months ago

Text

Does the General Audience hate Alicent?

I honestly don't think so, but my definition of the general audience is not the same as team black's.

First of all, I think that people use the term "general audience" way to generously. I constantly see people claiming that the "general audience" hates Alicent etc etc. What they really mean is the majority of viewers. But s2 got 25 million viewers in the US alone.

The majority of those 25 million are probably people who watch an episode, then they turn the TV off when it ends and that's it until next week! These people also have favourites, of course, but they do not sit down and make podcast episodes about how much of a bitch Alicent is.

Content creators are not the general audience!

People who consume fan content or profit of fans are not the general audience!

People who take their time to answer polls about which character they hated or loved the most each episode are not the general audience!

The people who do that are fans of the show... wether or not they have an online presence you're aware of.

But whatever. Let's indulge them, let's say those people are the general audience. Then, with House of The Dragon I would say there's a general audience and there's a general audience.

Why? Daenerys Targaryen.

It's not a secret by any means that she was, and is, an iconic character and fan favourite. It was for her that GRRM wrote Fire and Blood, it's for her many people started, kept and stopped watching Game of Thrones. There is overall a huge "loyalty" to her, and as a result of that, to all Targaryens.

The "GA" that watched Game of Thrones as Dany fans are probably way more likely to "side" with Rhaenyra and her Targaryen uncle-husband and therefore dislike any character on Team Green (the girl has brown hair? Yuck!). Alicent being the main target for this hate makes sense then, as she is the main character opposite Rhaenyra and the show centers around them.

The GA that did not watch Game of Thrones (or that didn't like Dany; there's a reason a lot of Sansa stans are Alicent stans and that a lot of Sansa antis are Alicent antis) are therefore more likely to not hate Alicent. Multiple friends of mine, and also my boyfriend, watched House of The Dragon before Game of Thrones by my recommendation. I found that generally they did not hate Alicent, or if they did, they at least recognised the abuse she went through and understand why she is the way she is.

Of course, any person is allowed to feel any certain way for a fictional character, but there is a huge loyalty to the Targaryens within the fandom and also the general audience that also watched Game of Thrones. Is this loyalty often weird? Absolutely! But that's for another day.

I would like to add that this is of course only my speculations. Beyond the amount of viewers I have no data to back up what is, to me, common sense. So therefore I ask all of you, what to you think? And what is your definition of the GA? Do you agree with mine, or no?

#alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #house of the dragon #anti team black #pro alicent hightower

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odinsblog · 8 months ago

Text

A multinational corporation—driven by greedy shareholders and a profit motive—buying its own nuclear reactors; all to power “green” “carbon neutral” A.I. data centers.

I mean, what could possibly go wrong? 🤦‍♂️

#politics #google #nuclear power #kairos power #artificial intelligence #capitalism #ai #what could possibly go wrong #ai data centers

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bladekindeyewear · 10 months ago

Text

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2024-08-24

(Previous post - current page 666)

Section 3 of page 666 is now upd8'd, let's check it out! And as you can expect very much from the topic it's almost certainly covering, they've warned us via the twitter "Content warning for references to themes of physical and mental abuse, flashing imagery, and mild gore". By the way, when Force Refresh didn't reload the game data enough to show the new chapter in Google Chrome for me, I had to go in settings to "Delete Browsing Data" > "Cookies and other site data" for the Time Range "Last hour", because just deleting "Cached images and files" or "Hosted app data" didn't help.

(EDIT: THEY WERE NOT KIDDING AROUND ABOUT THE CONTENT WARNINGS, IF YOU HAVE ANY PERSONAL EXPERIENCE WITH ANY SORT OF ABUSE PLEASE BE CAREFUL WITH THIS ONE.)

Although, before we get into it (AND WAY BEFORE I SCROLLED BACK UP TO EDIT THAT EXTRA WARNING UP THERE), I wanted to cover something that'd been on my mind since my last post, predictionways: How IS Vriska going to escape the Plot Point?

There seem a number of obvious answers that we'll get some combination of, but the last one might not be obvious to everyone, so I wanted to cover it and flesh out / examine the possibilities so we all can feel really smart if it pans out at all the way I'm thinking it could pan out:

(1) Vriska realizes the true power and relevance she'd attained as a Thief of Light never left her heart all along, and this singularity is Nothing, a realm Void of relevance where only she exists. (Very like the Neverending Story after everything was destroyed, maybe?) If she allows herself to divest herself of some of her relevance she's been so desperately clutching onto, she can 8r8k the Plot Point.

Callie hinted that this singularity-center might need to be destroyed, and the fifth section is an 8-ball, a type of container Vriska is famously known to break. It may make a degree of sense that realizing her own power, her ultimate freedom, might be enough to do just that and free her.

(1a) Vriska becomes her Ultimate Self, and is too full of Light for the singularity to contain. This could break it or otherwise get her out of it...

...but I'm not sure it's either possible or a good thing for her to consolidate ALL of herself from the rest of Paradox Space into herself while she's trapped in here? Those versions of her perhaps deserve to keep existing rather than falling into a sea of herself that would need to hold powerfully to the self-actualization and psychological progress she's made as THIS version of her instead of the versions of her that didn't. We're not certain of all the mechanics of being an Ultimate Self, so it's hard to say whether or not it's possible... or could even see her backslide from this Therapy Session, which I really wouldn't want to see because this has been so good, and would definitely make some sense of alt!Callie / AL's warning that what was inside the Plot Point was hungry, because an Ultimate Vriska certainly could be. This doesn't seem the right choice unless in combination with one of the other options:

(2) Vriska finds the collapsed core of the Green Sun's power here and steals it for herself, a hidden treasure that could be intensely empowering, whether via Light or even giving her fancy barrier-busting Black Hole powers similar to alt!Calliope's dead!Jade body. I... feel this option is unlikely. It'd certainly count as something "greedy" inside the Plot Point that "isn't salvation" and could hasten the fragmentation of the Candy storyline because there isn't a singularity vacuuming its power all together, which could apply to breaking the Plot Point too, frankly... eh, I just still think other options seem more likely and better foreshadowed. Especially this last one:

(3) Vriska uses the same communication-across-barriers ability she used to contact (Meat)!Terezi in order to message JOHN and ask the HEIR OF BREATH to free her from the singularity as I once long ago wrongly predicted. If John is the only one who can reach in and pull her out, it would require Vriska to overcome herself enough to realize she needs -- and has the power -- to MAKE a divestment of relevance (as (1) suggested) to John from herself, and let John be the hero in her place for at least a moment. The arms he once reached everywhere with using his ultimate power suddenly become an arm reaching for another hand to pull someone to freedom.

Now on top of everything I mentioned in the old Breath, Blood, and the Flow of Reality post about John being one of the only people possibly capable of freeing someone from a singularity that "not even Light can escape", there's a bunch of EXTREMELY RECENT evidence for this, too. In addition to telling us how surprising and unlikely they would have found it to learn that Vriska messaged Terezi past the barrier sealing Candy's timeline away from the rest of Paradox Space, Callie ALSO just got done asking John to break Vriska out of jail, reinforcing it with an open statement that Breath was the aspect of Freedom, and John embodied the concept. And more importantly, John HADN'T BEEN NECESSARY to break Vriska out at all, and ended up only tagging along for conversation and fun, not even needing to tell Serket where to go! Which makes the entire relevance and narrative choice of Callie asking him to break her out better suited as foreshadowing for this exact necessity while she's trapped in the Plot Point, and all Vriska would need to do to make it happen is pull a trick (communicating across the Breach) we've already seen her pull before in the Epilogues. To have the courage and stability of mind to realize she can't do this on her own, and know who to ask for help. (Roxy, as a Rogue of Void, might even be able to lend her power to the effort too.)

Apologies for the pre-update writeup, I just really wanted to make that last John call for y'all if you hadn't realized the possibility, y'know, before we potentially see it happen a few upd8s from now. :D

Alright, on to all the trauma that Doc Scratch helped inflict on Vriska, manipulating her into actions that only injured her psyche further and her friends moreso, and all the guilt and anger she feels over it. I suspect she'll have to finally at least PARTIALLY realize the trick that's being hinted at regarding "ultimate freedom" -- ie, the answer to the Ultimate Riddle -- and just how much Doc Scratch's talk of inevitability not only gaslit her into thinking her worst instincts were unavoidable, but that even as he was TELLING her that he was manipulating her, he was admitting that he HAD to manipulate her to make this happen, meaning the power had been in HER hands all along, not his. Without Vriska provoked into being the one to inflict the injuries in the entire Team Charge vs Team Scourge cascade, without the fact that this was all FRIENDS hurting FRIENDS, none of them would have experienced enough of the severe psychological trauma required for Doc Scratch's half-Gamzee chucklevoodoos to control them into unknowingly writing his DNA code, and leaving those like Aradia in an inverted, highly manipulatable state for guiding their session into creating the Tumor that would birth the Green Sun. Let's click the White Cueball and start watching Vriska painfully confronting some serious emotional abuse and trauma from her past at the hands of a very-Dirk-Strider-like pseudo-parental figure...

*CLICKING THAT DAMNED CUEBALL NOW*

Okay, NO TIMESKIP notice this time, she looks the same in her room-- it would make sense that Doc Scratch is next on the chopping block this time and I'd WANT to see her live first reaction to it. What's with this poppy hoppy fun music? We're definitely getting something more sinister for Scratch. (Also I have to say, the music so far this entire Vriska Therapy Session flash has been... okay? But not up to the usual Homestuck banger standards the original comic's run spoiled us with constantly, in my personal view.)

VRISKA: Whew. VRISKA: Long day.

Oh gosh I hope she doesn't go into the next one IMMEDIATELY and rests first--

Oh GCATAVROSPRITE is the music this time, I get it! And he's acting more catlike than ever w/ those paws lifted!

GCATAVROSPRITE: mAYBE, yOU SHOULD TAKE A BREAK, fROM ALL THE TOTALLY AWESOME PERSONAL BREAKTHROUGHS YOU ARE HAVING, GCATAVROSPRITE: aND KICK IT WITH ME AND ERISOL FOR A WHILE, ERISOLSPRITE: yeah, you kiinda look liike 2hiit.

THANK you, get her to relax at least a BIT before tackling something harder than her freakin' abusive mother(s). Also,

--just, Erisol looking unexpectedly fly as fuck, and more Dave-like than ever. Like, I'm just surprised he looks so cool. Good damn art.

VRISKA: Says Scarfshades McLopsided.

Hey!!!

ERISOLSPRITE: 2ay2 the bu2ted a22 biitch wwearin the 2ame raggedy jacket 2he2 wworn 2ince wwe wwere liike fiivve.

FUCKIN' OWNED, GOOD SNAPBACK.

VRISKA: Says the guy who literally can't change his clothes.

That's low AND not helping your case, fuck you! You're being incredibly disrespectful AND proving him right!

ERISOLSPRITE: ii cant be held accountable for my dii2cordant cla22-2wwag diichotomy, but here you are a 2weep and a half deep iin a per2onally raiilored realm of 2elf-reflectiion and you 2tiill choo2e twwo look liike thii2.

EXACTLY, that's what we're saying!!! --Not that it can be helped TOO much, from an emotional standpoint she sorta has to take forms similar to her past to face her past to an extent, so...

Also, let me do the math on that... (6/13)*4 ≈ 1.85, so if we're still in "YEAR 4" then 1.85 solar sweeps have passed for her since she entered the Plot Point. If anything, Erisol's being generous as fuck here by rounding down instead of saying "nearly two sweeps". (And this confirms we haven't timeskipped again-- or if we have, must not have skipped MUCH.)

VRISKA: Heh.

What, can't mess with perfection?

ERISOLSPRITE: heh.

Oh shit, they're actually getting on, look at his damned animated grin. This is just some black-vibey friendly jabbing!

ERISOLSPRITE: anyway, come chiill.

Please, please do Vriska for your own damn sake.

Oh no, Tavros, don't suggest cat things.

Yeah, get some R and R. (And pointless playtime.) So you don't burn out. Good advice Tav.

FUCK IS HE STILL ALLERGIC? :C

.....okay GCATavrosprite you make a good goddamned point, you're doing pretty well against the allergies all things considered.

Oh no, she thinks she needs to keep going. :( This is gonna be even less fun for her than she thinks.

VRISKA: I'm kind of on a roll here. Gotta strike while the iron is hot!

Intense trauma-release therapy does not work that way!!! Heavy revelations have to be PROCESSED and mulled over before you subject yourself to more psychological pounding!

GCATAVROSPRITE: [...] aND IT KIND OF FEELS LIKE THE FIRE IS ABOUT TO GET REALLY REALLY HOT,

Ooh, a serious warning from Tav and Erisol that this shit is about to be some fuckin' BUSINESS. Listen to them! (Exactly as you put it Tav, that iron is gonna MELT too long in too hot a fire. I hope this doesn't knock her back at first and then we get ANOTHER TIMESKIP so soon mid-section... D: )

VRISKA: Whaaaaaaaat?

Oh she doesn't fucking see it coming, does she. She thought she just conquered the worst of her abuse with her mother(s) just now. She is NOT ready.

VRISKA: Oh 8lah 8lah 8lah, don't be such a pussy. GCATAVROSPRITE: i LITERALLY CAN'T NOT BE A CAT,

PFFF

VRISKA: How 8ad could it even 8e?

How genre savvy could you POSSIBLY have lost track of being to make such a statement?

...Welp, she's gonna try it. Let's hope it doesn't make her backslide into being too afraid to touch it for another year or two. :C :C :C

ERISOLSPRITE: ok wwell fuck u2 for tryiin ii gue22, havve fun gettiing traumatiized.

PFFFFDHF okay that was pretty funny

VRISKA: I'm not gonna get traumatized!

Lemme guess, smash cut to a dozen and change clicks from now: "...I got fucking traumatized."? X'D

Oh here we go:

{ENTER SCRATCH'S PARLOR}

OH HERE WE GO WITH SOME PROPERLY OMINOUS MUSIC. AND I LOVE THE TYPEWRITER SOUNDS AS HIS TEXT TYPES OUT AGAINST THE PURE BACKGROUND. THIS IS DONE SO GODDAMN WELL

(Even if I still think this music still doesn't measure up to original Homestuck tunes, it's still FITTING AND WORKS GREAT for the scene, and the style and art choices are top notch, especially the pure backgroundless white font.)

Yep Vriska, a "perfectly predictable inevitability", you should have seen this coming. Did you know you'd show up here, or did you not and he's rubbing it in your face? Cause I'd bet it's the latter.

It certainly has been a while, Vriska. You seem to have blossomed nicely.

CREEPY ABUSIVE UNCLE VIBES ALREADY REACHING CRITICAL LEVELS THREE CLICKS IN

Care for a piece of candy?

GOD DAMNIT

VRISKA: Oh fuck your stupid candy, you glo8e-headed little freak.

Congratulations Vriska, you've successfully lost 99% of your chill five seconds in, have fun getting traumatized

Doc hinting at the inevitability theme by saying he'd know for a fact she'd enjoy the candy.

Although it was less the wary hunch of a scared little girl than the delightful certainty that you'd come crawling back to me, sooner or later.

FUCK THIS IS JUST RAW ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP WE ARE FULL NON-WATERED-DOWN EVERCLEAR HERE

Holy SHIT are they pulling out all the stops with his awful phrasing here, no wonder they put so big an emotional abuse trigger warning on this update on the twitter page. And it's only going to get worse.

Of course I know. I'm always watching you.

Fuck, this is just. Exposing levels of vulnerability and awful fear that Vriska had to contend with in her youth that we hadn't even PUT TOGETHER back then. Every veil of silliness has been ripped straight off to show the gory mess of how this would have psychologically affected her while she was younger, here. I used to hate the epilogues and early HS^2 a little for doing this so liberally, for making clear how RETROACTIVELY FUCKED things were in ways that made my heart ache without any balm or healing... but unlike those earlier glimpses into their past attitudes, THIS time we are fucking going to goddamn RESOLVE the psychological issues and get some clear closure on them. That's part of why the entire p666 Vriska Therapy Session / Hyperbolic Therapy Chamber is already quite nearly my favorite part of all Homestuck so far, and I DO mean ALL of Homestuck so far.

VRISKA: You know what? VRISKA: I've 8een pretty damn good. VRISKA: 8een losing track of the sweeps I've spent in here fixing pretty much everything other than the thing I actually came in here to fix, 8ut it's paying off! There's a convenient timer for the express purpose of tracking that.

Oh god don't show her. Don't make her worry about how much time she's losing in here or how much it might be reflecting out there.

VRISKA: Yeah, and I never look at it 8ecause it pisses me off!

Phew. At least she's had TIME to come to terms with worrying about it.

VRISKA: 8ut it's fine. VRISKA: It just means I've had a lot of time to think stuff over. VRISKA: Stuff that was holding me 8ack, throwing me off-course.

I get the feeling he's about to do a pretty good job trying to convince you that you can't escape this so easily. To throw the wrong sort of doubt at you about what exactly you're barreling towards. About who the real "YOU" is-- he's going to try and convince you you're the one who hurts people.

I like to think that I'm far and away the most prolific contributor to your baggage.

Fuck. This won't be good.

VRISKA: Man, I figured may8e this place was working up to something really intense, 8ut instead all I get is Glo8ehead the Gru8toucher playing puppetmaster again.

Eueuuugh that nickname D:

...Is Vriska shaking or laughing? I think she's shaking. D:

VRISKA: You fucked with a 8unch of little kids and 8lew up, then you LOST.

Lord English might have lost, but I don't feel quite like Doc Scratch really did. He pretty much gave his master the Paradox-Space-spanning story he wanted, from beginning to end.

VRISKA: You could 8arely handle me when I was six, I'm supposed to 8e scared of you NOW?

It doesn't matter that you're not six sweeps anymore, that's-- you're visibly shaking. This is a big fucking deal. This is digging into the creepiest and most disgusting parts of what was done to you.

Well, you're shaking.

There we have it.

...Vriska is pulling out the whole-ass PDF File word. I... I hope she's just trying to taunt him for manipulating children, here, and playing the uncle angle. He's not-- I mean nothing actually happened, right? Please tell me nothing physical actually fucking happened besides the cueball-explosion physical-abuse-ways, I don't want sexual abuse retconned into existence here...

Exquisite. I missed that fumbling braggadocio. It's heartening to know that this place hasn't cured you of it yet. It makes you so much fun to play with.

Yeah... the parts of Doc Scratch that Vriska is going to remember most clearly are the times where he was condescending in ways that denigrated her and confirmed her worst fears about herself, intentionally. :C

WHOA DID HE JUST SPACE SHRINK HER??? IS HE GONNA PUT HER ON THE TOY BATTLEFIELD?!

{o} ==>

Matching the scale and visuals of the situation to how she always felt. :C :C

And SICK that the music is breaking down, I'll freely give it credit for shifting to action mode.

Now then, why don't we have ourselves a little game?

Just like Dirk and Caliborn, and their union in Doc Scratch, always love to do to people.

FUCK he glitched away the "WHAT WILL YOU DO?" prompt. This is DEFINITELY about the Ultimate Riddle and Doc Scratch's ultimate lie that Vriska never had any autonomy, a lie he poisoned her with from an early age to make her even easier to manipulate both then and down the line.

DAMMIT, changing her clothes by force?! D: D: D: D:

FUCK FUCK FUCK NO THAT'S EVEN WORSE HE CHANGED HER INTO KID FORM HUGGING HERSELF FROM WHEN SHE WAS ABOUT TO BE INJURED THAT'S CREEPIER AND MORE AWFUL THAN I EVER EXPECTED NO WONDER THEY CONTENT WARNING'D THE FUCK OUT OF THIS, I'm going up there and putting some EXTRAS on there.

I don't have personal experience with this sort of abuse but I do have experience with some who HAVE and some who WORK therapeutically with those who have so this is playing out like a critical hit to triggers I can only empathize from a distance with and it's STILL getting almost too much already. Wow wow wow wow wow they didn't pull any punches.

Ah, and there she is. My favorite piece.

AAAAAA

Thief to E4; Thief takes Page.

That loud BLAM just then and the brown blood knocking her back along with her injuries, so pithy yet so HEAVY and with the meaty SFX to go with it, just, brutal, auughh.... Vriska's NOT getting out of this one lightly. She's not going to want to come back here. She's going to be too traumatized for a good while isn't she.

Thief to F5; Thief takes Maid.

Oh god I don't want to screenshot each of these...

Another meaty THUNK and some rust blood splashing her. God.

Thief to Z8; Thief takes Seer.

Even after all Terezi taunted her and so clearly loved being blind, she STILL hates herself for what she did to Terezi?? :'C

Her blood too D:

Z8 ISN'T EVEN A F8CKING P8SITION, YOU HACK!!!!!!!

She didn't even get the number of exclamation points right...

All the world's my board.

No Escape.

Thief to ∫40; Thief takes pawn.

Wait what, who?

Is that Gamzee's blood or Eridan's? She only killed Gamzee just recently in Candy... (Checks with digital color meter--) That's #680768 blood, which is closest to... Eridan's, huh, weird. Maybe Erisol will be able to help her with this later after she's run away. IF AND WHEN she can finally run away. It looks like he wants to reinforce the impression that he can make her kill ANY AND ALL of the people friends she knows, COULD have made her do it. That's horrible for her to think of herself.

Now Equius's blood. She's swearing but can't make it stop.

He even calls Kanaya (and her blood splash) nothing but her killing a pawn of his choosing.

Thief to Ω413; Thief takes pawn. Check.

This is one of the first reappearances I can remember of the arc number 413 since we started HS^2, I don't even recall it in the epilogues. What's in Check here, the kids' whole universe, the one the trolls created? Is he getting her to blame herself for that, too?

KARKAT'S BLOOD AUGH that's always tough to see whenever I have to see it, it just makes you want to protect him when you know you can't.

Vriska calling him a cheap fucking karma ghost, this a stupid fucking charade... won't stop the fact that this is real emotional pain she's feeling and real pain that was already inside her for nearly her whole life up until this vision brought it out into the open.

VRISKA: AND I'M NEVER GOING TO 8E CAUGHT UP IN YOUR FUCKING G8MES EVER AGAIN!!!!!!!!

Then why are you so afraid you will be?

Of course you will. You think you're better than me? Better than fate? Vriska, I am going to put you in situations where you have the potential to do terrible things. I am going to make things ugly. I am going to corner you. I am going to pressure you. And no matter how much "better" you claim to be, all I have to do is catch you at the wrong moment. You're one bad turn from burning all your quaint little progress to the ground. One lapse away from being mine again.

Yeah, these are ALL just more and more of her deepest fears about herself. That she can be made to kill again, so easily, no matter how far she thinks she's moved past it all. Until she internalizes the answer to the Ultimate Riddle and realizes she has the power to make the better choice-- to ALWAYS make the better choice, and he was just fooling her into thinking she never did-- how could she possibly escape this sort of trap? She can't, not yet. And that abusive cueball asshole INTENTIONALLY made sure she felt that way, because that's what kept her easy to control. Learned helplesness.

VRISKA: Get me out of here.

Fuck, she's so defeated... so helpless. Please, PLEASE let this work. Please make it so she CAN escape this memory RIGHT THE FUCK NOW and confront it later. Because I'm very afraid it won't.

VRISKA: I want a do-over. Oh, please. You of all people should know that you don't *get* do-overs. The rest of these frivolous little vision quests may feel like sparing you the effort of getting things right the first time around, but the real world doesn't work that way.

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK THAT'S EVEN WORSE THAN I EXPECTED

No, you'll just have to endure it. This won't take long.

LET HER OUT YOU FUCK

You had a good run out there, flying solo and swashbuckling around as if Light itself were yours to command. It'd be wise to remember that it's a borrowed blessing. You flourish at its whim. Continue to spit in its face and take it for granted, and it will abandon you once again, perhaps for good.

Back to the ultimate riddle shit again. Doc Scratch conning her into thinking "everything you've achieved, I made for you, or you stole from others".

Being a true Thief of Light doesn't mean being at the whim of Light, at the mercy of what she can borrow. Kanaya tried to teach her back when she wanted her to clean her room that anybody can make their own luck.

Instead Doc Scratch is playing the role of Demiurge, standing in place of the Sun and claiming all Light radiates from him, when there was plenty inside her all along.

Do you remember who you were, before it chose you? The choices you made when luck wasn't on your side? You were such a delectable little victim.

Bluh!!!!!!

Poor Vriska, with her voracious lusus. With her demanding legacy and her uncooperative, fickle little friends. So much was out of your hands, then; how could you help but mbe my lovely assistant?

Doc Scratch inherited every last ounce of Equius's nonconsensual creep factor from Arquiusprite.

And this is going into the relationship between Light and Agency again, Void and the Lack of agency-- when Vriska felt trapped, felt she didn't have a choice, that was Void hemming her in, her "bad luck streak". Agency is your ability to choose what you do next, and so is Light. That's the privilege sometimes but not exclusively known as Luck.

Vriska: You didn't fucking own me.

Still so helpless-looking, but at least a bit of defiance in her expression. Which I expect handily crushed, unfortunately...

Exactly.

Fuck! And yeah, that's his point-- he's trying to say she CHOSE to do the wrong thing when the chips were down, which is what she's most afraid she'll do again.

But she needs to internalize the fact that it was a choice... that it HAD to be a choice... is an important flaw in the way he gaslit and conned her.

But what matters is that I might as well have. You let yourself believe you had no option other than to take me up on my hard bargains, again and again. For all your talk of independence, all your combative posturing and insistence on your own freedom, you barely bothered to put up any actual resistance to my suggestions. You took the easy way out, swearing all teh while it was your move. What a phenomenal waste of your considerable talents.

Her psyche is playing against her with the cards face up here... she just has to read them correctly. This is what she's afraid of, but it's also the flaw in his logic, the source of his power over her. The idea that she never possessed Ultimate Freedom, even though he's practically telling her that she DID, just to convince her she's an awful person.

It was an insult, and a warning. You're a trump card, Vriska, but your potency is a double-edged sword. One you've gotten far too comfortable swinging around, in the past. What do you intend to fix, when you leave this place? What, I wonder, will you break? I'd encourage you to be mindful of both. Of course, you could always cast aside those pesky trivialities and go with the flow, smashing through circumstances with nary a thought for the consequences. It'd be easier. We could dance together again, just like old times. You choose.

This isn't the real Doc Scratch-- this version of him IS, in its sick perverse way, still helping her. Still giving her the hints to realize that true balance between embracing your role and yielding agency to others is CRUCIAL to make sure you're doing your best to do the right thing. Which is especially difficult when your role, your best methodology, is that of an Agency Thief. A dangerous role which must be careful with its moves so as not to gluttonously trample over the wills of others who deserve a say.

But in order to choose, to take up the mantle of Ultimate Freedom, Vriska has to TRUST herself enough TO choose.

Trusting yourself enough to entrust yourself with CHOICE is one of the hardest decisions you can possibly make. Few ever truly make that decision.

What'll it be, Vriska? Player, or piece?

Well?

Thief to ∞108.

Whoa, what now? What the fuck is this going to be?

I look forward to finding out. Good luck.

Oh, so it's sending her back to the Plot Point. ∞108, or 8108. Is this the elusive arc number of one of our timelines, of Candy? One of infinite... or 1 and 0, creation and destruction, sandwiched between two 8s, two Vriskas with perpendicular orientations, Vriska and Vrissy? Hmm...

Oh thank fucking god we're back...

HAH

thanks so much I needed that mood lifter XD

{Level Complete!}

Thanks for ENDING it too, holy shit. I don't think I could have taken much longer of something THAT heavy tonight. Wow, that was masterfully done... not dragged out, just enough to get to the true point. To a setup for her decision, for her personal answer to the Ultimate Riddle.

Which makes plenty of sense why the NEXT section seems like it's likely a weird colorless version of one of Davepetasprite^2's feathers. They're the perfect person to talk to about her Soul/Heart, the greater self and the meaning of Ultimate Freedom, just as they hinted at during their last big talk in Homestuck.

--Yeah, she didn't get as much help from that as she would have wanted... and now the candle is ABSOLUTELY burning down.

The glimpse of the next unclaimed tiers, here... are these hinting at the start of the next section? We have her inhibitions bound, then a reference to a child development psychologist, then a somatic spark-- physical contact?! Then Deja Vu, a flash of the past (or possibly even meeting her GHOST self from the ghost rain, the more vulnerable (Vriska) inverted to Page of Void mode that she BERATED TO TEARS back toward the end of Homestuck to prove how much more (Vriska) had grown than Vriska before leaving her crying and for Ghost Terezi from the pre-retcon timeline to meet)... Heuristic Grace, getting her luck back possibly... burning, getting hotter, and then a transcendental gleam? No, no that's got to just be a candle and it burning out the rest of the singularity... I still don't think Ultimate Vriska is the solution to all this, could it be?

Oh shit, I forgot about how the BLACK CANDLE is burning down due to VRISKA'S blue flame.

Recall my proposals at the beginning of this post? I completely forgot about yet one more opportunity for her escape:

(4) That Vriska's Light has been burning away at the singularity of the Plot Point this entire time, and will naturally destroy it no matter what, especially if she embraces her Agency and her inner Light. The Green Sun was not just a symbol of Light but an ultimate manifestation of Space power... and collapsed into a singularity, it could indeed also have been not just a Void but an ultimate manifestation of Time power. The years, sweeps, that Vriska is spending inside of it could be wearing it away all on its own, rapidly exhausting a reservoir of Time that alt!Calliope preserved at the center of the singularity just to give the noncanon timeline more time to exist than it otherwise would have had?!! Instead, Vriska is burning it up, and the sprites and ghosts who fell into the Black Hole during the Ghost Rain and concentrated themselves in this singularity are helping her use that naturally limited Time to arm herself and become the best version of herself she can be, so when the Plot Point collapses and shit really starts hitting the fan for the Candy timeline, they can execute a NEW plan to breach into the Canon/Meat timeline and do something so incredibly important that it reseats the timelines outside Paradox Space in new relevance stolen out from Canon. Something incredibly important, like unexpectedly facilitating Sburb's creation in what Dirk and Rosebot are trying to do, or sendificating the kids the final frog they used to create this Universe, or something, which came from somewhere we've still never resolved...

So many interesting possibilities here. And only two or three more updates until we'll know for sure what and how!

I'll probably continue to be too busy the next week or two to be in the mood to chew through bonus material or commentary. Talk to you next upd8 instead, most likely! :D

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #Homestuck^2 #upd8 #spoiler #spoilers #Vriska #Doc Scratch #John Egbert #Breath and Blood #Light and Void #Classes and Aspects #Calliope #Roxy Lalonde #Erisolsprite #Gcatavrosprite #cw: abuse

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peachesandcreames · 11 months ago

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Look What I Found?!

A/N : Slight spoilers so if you haven't seen the movie yet enter at your own risk (and go see the movie!) Reader Beware: angst, fluff, A Little bit of spice 😉. Mention of scars/scaring. Self defense against 3 would be assailants. Y/N is basically a badass 😎. As always read at your own discretion and hearts, likes, reblogs and constructive criticism is always welcome. All mistakes are solely my own. Happy reading 📚 everyone!!! 💞💕

You'd been hesitantly working with Tyler and his ragtag team of Tornado chasers for about 6 months, traveling all over the country gathering data and trying to help the people stuck in the path of death and destruction. Tyler drove as you stared out the passenger window not really seeing the passing scenery, you were beyond exhausted and you could see Tyler taking glances at you out of the corner of his eye. You wanted to let him know that you were ok but you didn't have it in you. He took his phone and started looking for something and when he found whatever he was looking for he smiled. A megawatt smile that made his dimples pop and you felt your heart stutter in your chest.

He really is handsome you found yourself thinking as he turned to face you in the seat, those green eyes and dimples are starting to make you feel things, things like desire and lust. It's been five years and a girl definitely has needs and Tyler definitely could help you out with those needs. You found yourself staring at his lips as they moved but you had no idea what he was saying to you. You found yourself imagining what his lips and rough, calloused hands could do to you. You felt your body heating up and you slid down in your seat and cracked the window for some fresh evening air.

The humid southern air hit you like a ton of bricks and you took a deep breath, hoping to bring yourself back to the here and now. "How's that sound?" You turned your head to glance at him ever so briefly, hoping that he didn't notice your self induced agitation. Tyler was looking at you with those green eyes and you found yourself getting lost in them. You shook your head, trying to clear out the cobwebs and said, "I'm sorry?"

His eyes filled with sympathy and his smile faltered. "I said that there's a Target not to far away from us. You want to go and look around while I fill up on gas? You can look at books and candles. Maybe some snacks?" Tyler stuck out his bottom lip in an attempt to garner sympathy but it had the opposite effect on you. You wanted to kiss it, maybe suck on it while you rode him like a wild horse in one of his rodeos.

You didn't want to be alone even if you couldn't express how you felt. You shook your head no and you could see that he was disappointed but tried to mask it. You reached across the center console and placed your hand over his, which might have been a mistake. His skin was warm like the setting Oklahoma sun and tan from working outside. You locked eyes with each other and Tyler glanced down at your hand barely covering his.

He watched as your thumb moved over his knuckles in an attempt to soothe him. He got lost in the sensation of your cool skin on his and didn't want to break the spell of you coming out of your shell and opening up to him. He was more than willing to wait you out until you felt comfortable. You glanced up at him and took a deep breath, it was now or never and if he's told you once he's told you a million times that you have to face what scares you. The words tumbled from your lips in a jumble "I just don't want to be alone."

A single tear escaped and Tyler caught it with his thumb as his hand came up to cradle your face and you leaned into the warmth of him. You needed comfort and Tyler was more than willing to offer whatever it was you needed. "New plan. We'll both go together but you're not getting out of the truck while I get the gas. Understood?" His whole demeanor changed and the air inside felt as heavy and hot as the air outside.

In an attempt at levity, you saluted him and said " Sir, yes Sir". The look in his eyes turned a different kind of darkness. The kind that spoke of twisted sheets and untold hours of passion and pleasure. You visibly and audibly gulped and Tyler shot a smirk your way as you pulled into a nearly empty gas station except for a group of men standing on the outskirts. You felt uneasy seeing them standing in the dwindling sunset and rapidly approaching darkness as their cigarette smoke wafted above their heads and they started laughing at something one of them had said.

Tyler must have sensed your uneasiness as he unbuckled his seat belt. You turned to look at him and then back at the group of men who looked like they were looking at you but you couldn't be sure. "Hey," he nudged your shoulder with his and you brought your attention back to him. You gave him a small smile and he nodded as he got out of the truck. He locked the doors behind him as he started to pump the gas and you watched the numbers go up as the smell of gasoline filled the country night air. You forgot about the possible threat that the men could pose as you watched the way Tyler's muscles rippled under his white t shirt.

It was a welcome distraction as you watched him walk away and you cranked the AC and turned the radio on, a Luke Combs song filtered through the speakers as you watched through the glass window as Tyler sauntered up to the counter and waited his turn in line. You saw movement out of the corner of your eye, one of the men threw his cigarette butt in a nearby puddle and you watched as the water extinguished the already dying light. You felt your anxiety start to rise as one of the truckers pointed in your general direction and they started to haphazardly make their way across the broken pavement. You watched as they stumbled and their silhouettes started getting closer and closer. Your suspicion was confirmed when they finally got under one of the street lights, they all carried bottles wrapped in brown bags.

Tyler finally made it to the counter to pay as soon as the trio of drunken truckers reached your window. You felt frozen with fear and didn't know what to do. You wanted to get Tyler's attention and thought about laying on the car horn but changed your mind at the last second. One of them knocked on the glass with what you thought was his hand but turns out it was the really sharp tip of a hunting knife. You could barely hear him through the glass, you think that he either called you pretty girl or city girl and you weren't sure if you couldn't understand him because of the ice cold fear gripping you by the throat or if it was because of the window separating you two.

Then it hit you. The perfect way to scare off them off. Before you and Tyler hit the road he had you refill the fireworks launchers on his truck. It was a good thing that he left the keys in the ignition, you cranked the engine to life and let the fireworks fly high into the sky. It had the desired effect of startling the men into leaving you alone.

The second the fireworks went off it caused the man to drop his knife and you saw your moment and you took it. You opened the car door with as much force as you could muster and slammed the door into him causing him to lose his footing and stumble backwards. Before he could recover his balance you struck his nose with your open palm and you felt the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking and warm blood came gushing out and he dropped at your feet. You saw the glint of the knife blade at your feet and you quickly snapped it up and held it loosely at your side. The remaining two men saw their friend writhing in agony and looked between him and you, you who was holding a knife and covered in blood from your wrist down.

They put their hands up and slowly got their friend on his feet. "You stupid bitch. You broke my nose." It looked like he was going to come after you again so you braced yourself. He stumbled as he pushed himself away from his buddies and you reacted on pure instinct.

You met him halfway and used his momentum against him and punched him in his already broken nose. He bellowed out in pain and as he bent over you brought your knee into his face for a third time and it thankfully knocked him out. You threw the knife at him in disgust as you looked up and saw that Tyler had joined the commotion. The two buddies saw that the odds weren't in their favor and took off running into the night. Tyler looked from the bloody man at his feet to see you standing in the harsh lighting of the parking lot, sweaty and covered in the man's blood.

He could see that you were visibly shaken but not hurt. "You look so incredibly hot right now." Tyler said with awe and pride in his voice. That got a smile and a laugh out of you and he took your hand in his and led you towards the gas station bathrooms to get cleaned up. He gave you a change of clothing and left you to it.

15 minutes later you came out of the bathroom and it brought a gentle smile to your face to see that he was waiting for you right outside. You cleared your throat and he turned to face you, he looked you up and down appreciatively. "Are you ready to get out of here?" You nodded and he offered you his arm and you walked towards his truck together and he opened the door for you and made sure that you were buckled in before he locked and shut your door. You rode in comfortable silence towards the store and Tyler jumped out and had your door open before you could even unbuckle yourself. You laughed quietly at his antics and let him help you down.

Once inside, Tyler snagged a cart and followed you throughout the store. He definitely enjoyed the view as you stopped by the candles and tried to find the best smelling ones. You held out a candle for him to smell and laughed as he crinkled his nose. You both decided on Strawberry and lemons and you put them in the cart.

You wandered around the store and felt yourself relaxing. It felt oddly right, doing domestic activities with him. Something so ordinary as shopping with this man had butterflies dancing in your belly. After checking out and Tyler refusing to let you pay, he helped you back into the truck and loaded the bags in the back. He slid into next to you and looked at you expectantly.

You had a standing reservation at a local hotel on the outskirts of town and you watched as Tyler's attention was on entering the location on his GPS system. Bone tired you leaned against the leather seat and felt your eyes drifting shut and you must have dozed off because the next thing you knew was that you were being shook awake by Tyler. You lifted your head off of his shoulder and realized that you had drooled a little bit. "Oh my God, " you muttered in mortification. Tyler laughed quietly as he got out and grabbed the luggage bags and slung them over his shoulder and with his other hand he grabbed the bags from your shopping trip.

You jumped down from the passenger seat and met him in front of his truck. You slid your arm through his and led him towards the nearly vacant hotel. You checked yourselves in and took the key from the hotel clerk. Tyler followed you down the dimly lit hall and you stopped to open the door. He nudged you out of the way gently and his big frame filled the door way, you heard more than saw him set the duffle bags on the floor.

You slipped into the room besides him and shut the door and slid the lock into place. You turned to see Tyler looking at the only bed in the room, you risked a glance up at him and he was frantically rubbing the back of his neck and he shot you a sheepish glance, "I can take the floor. You can take the bed." You took the shopping bags from him and pulled out two fluffy blue towels and pushed him in the general direction of the bathroom. "Go and wash the road off of you and when you get out I'll have the sleeping arrangements settled."

Tyler shot you an incredulous look and did as he was told. "Yes, ma'am." You watched appreciatively as he ducked his head and and closed the bathroom door behind him. You heard the shower turn on and you got to work, stripping the bed and putting your own fresh bedding on after you sprayed everything down with lysol. You lit the candles hoping that would mask the lysol spray.

The bathroom door opened and you turned in time to see him drying his damp hair, grey sweatpants hung low on his hips. Just enough to show off his prominent v line. He tossed the wet towel into the corner and looked at the freshly made bed. "So, how's this going to work?" Tyler looked at you expectantly and you pretended to mull it over. You shrugged and started digging through your bag for your pajamas.

You felt his warmth as he stood behind you. "Did you even save me any hot water?" You looked over your shoulder at him. "Yes, ma'am. I surely did." He was laying it on kind of thick and you stood up and walked in front of him. You placed your hands on his chest and looked up at him. "And they said that chivalry was dead, clearly they haven't met the infamous Tyler Owens."

He winked at you as you grabbed your pajamas and made your way into the bathroom. You locked the door behind you and leaned against it just long enough to slow your rapidly beating heart. You wiped the steam off of the mirror and looked at your reflection. You looked ten kinds of tired as you set your clean clothes on the toilet seat and quickly stripped and stepped under the warm water. You let the water work its magic as the knots in your shoulders loosened.

You let the water run cold before you stepped out, wrapping a fluffy purple towel under your arms. You dried off and put on a pair of blue pajama shorts and a matching t shirt. You took a long breath in an attempt to calm your nerves before you stepped into the room. You opened the door and saw Tyler sprawled out on the bedside nearest the door. You attempted to make yourself busy with picking up the dirty laundry.

He muted the weather report that he was watching and looked over at you pretending to be busy in an attempt to delay the inevitable. "Hey, Y/N. It's really OK, I have no problem taking the floor. Hell, it's a step up from some of my previous sleeping arrangements." You put the dirty laundry in a garment bag and turned to look at him.

"Am I that obvious?" You asked with your hands on your hips. Your righteous indignation was enough to amuse Tyler and he patted the empty space next to him. He smirked at you as he held his thumb and finger so that they were almost touching. "Lil bit, come here. I promise you that I don't bite. Unless you ask me too."

Groaning you shut off the overhead light and crawled into the bed but didn't get under the covers. You attempted to get comfortable as Tyler blew out the candles and turned to face you. You copied his movements and slid your hands under your pillow. The movement caused the strap of your shirt to slide down your arm and Tyler's rough fingers chased the slip of fabric and continued down, gently pausing to toy with the hem of your tank top. He paused to let his knuckles lightly graze your lower abdomen and looked at you with hesitation and you nodded slightly as he continued even lower to the prominent scar on your upper thigh.

"Where'd you get this from, pretty girl?" He asked you quietly and you shrugged trying to appear nonchalant. You cleared your throat and took a deep breath, "nobody goes through life unscathed. It's not possible but I fought and I survived." Tyler risked a glance up at you and saw that you were smiling at him. "What are you smiling at?"

"You. I'm smiling at you, Tyler Owens. You make me happy." He reached out for you and pulled you towards him, his large warm palm cupped your cheek and his thumb gently traced your lower lip. "Is this ok?" You nodded and leaned into him.

With zero hesitation Tyler claimed your lips with his, they were surprisingly soft and he smelled like sandalwood and sunshine and he tasted even better. He rolled with you under him and you deepened the kiss and moaned against his lips. You writhed underneath him, desperate for his skin on yours. You could feel him growing hard against your soft center and it brought another smile to your face. You brought your hand to his face and peppered small kisses over him.

Tyler looked down at you with adoration in his eyes. "You're doing it again, Lil' bit." He nudged his nose with yours and you pointed to your face. "What? Oh, this little ol thing. I couldn't find it for the longest time."

"Yeah? Where'd you find it?" You pretended to contemplate his question. "It was the weirdest thing, I found it where I least expected it to be." Tyler waited for you to finish what you were saying, eyebrows raised expectantly. You smiled up at him and kissed him lovingly. "I found it in the heart of Oklahoma."

~Fin~

❤❤

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dissensionads · 1 month ago

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𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒂 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏. 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕. 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔. 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕.

There is a place where identity is no longer sacred, but manufactured—sculpted by quiet hands behind biometric doors and sealed behind soundproof glass. In the polished, clinical halls of Volner-Downe Inc., the most powerful behavioral-tech conglomerate of the 21st century, the future has crystallized into absolute control. Gone are the burdens of burnout, choice, and memory. In their place: the Dissension Procedure—a surgical severing of consciousness that promises perfect work-life balance. You, the Outie, sip smart-coffee in your temperature-regulated home in Downe’s Hollow, oblivious to what your body endures between nine and five. Meanwhile, your Innie—a person surgically cleaved from you—lives inside the company’s shifting tower in Manhattan, bound to duty and fluorescent obedience. One smiles. One suffers. And neither has the words to describe the quiet terror between them. The town is still called Downe’s Hollow, a name that persists like a scar beneath the skin of Long Island. The lawns are still green. The neighbors still wave. But the cheer has grown too perfect—too practiced. Drones glide silently overhead. Children walk to school in matching uniforms, speaking softly in synchrony. There’s a bakery that always smells like cinnamon but never opens its doors. A cinema plays propaganda reels disguised as nostalgia. At the edge of town lies the Hollow Gate, sealed and blinking red, rumored to lead to nowhere… or to someone’s forgotten past. In Downe’s Hollow, the street signs never change. The mailboxes remain empty. And the nights are so quiet you can hear the hum of your own compliance. Above it all looms the Volner Building, a technological relic that pulses with corporate intent. Its structure defies logic—departments fold into each other like paper, corridors stretch then vanish, and elevators do not always arrive where expected. Employees speak in rehearsed mantras, smile with hollow eyes, and complete tasks without understanding the language they’re written in. Innies work in places like Data Reconciliation, Social Conditioning, and Behavioral Wellness, never seeing the sun, never asking who they once were. Sometimes they dream. Sometimes they bleed. Beneath the lower levels, below even the server rooms, is the Reflection Wing—a place that doesn’t exist on any map. It holds the broken ones. The ones who asked questions. The ones who remembered too much.

𝑶𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅, 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒅𝒖𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒕𝒚.

THE HOUSE OF DISSENSION is an original, psychological horror, drama, and political roleplay set in a retrofuturist 2028, where identity has become a product, obedience a prescription, and silence the only permitted rebellion. Inspired by Severance, Succession, The Sims, and Control, it explores corporate surveillance, manufactured realities, and the ghost-like aftermath of partitioned lives. The aesthetic is mid-century modern gone sterile: sleek chrome, synthetic smiles, and cocktail parties hosted beneath the glare of hidden cameras. Centered around profound character evolution, embracing dark narratives, intricate personal journeys, immersive world-building, and transformative plot developments designed to challenge your character and reshape the very fabric of their reality. This world is curated to the point of collapse, built on a foundation of inherited power, manipulated memory, and the slow, aching horror of being erased while alive. More information will be declassified on May 18th. Until then—remember your place, repeat your mantras, and above all else: we’re happy to be here.

𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘 𝗢𝗥 𝗥𝗘𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗚 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗘𝗫𝗖𝗟𝗨𝗦𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗔𝗖𝗖𝗘𝗦𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗙𝗨𝗟𝗟 𝗣𝗟𝗢𝗧 & 𝗙𝗜𝗥𝗦𝗧 𝗗𝗜𝗕𝗦 𝗢𝗡 𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗘𝗦 !

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niqhtlord01 · 2 years ago

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Humans are weird: The Monster I’ve Become

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Alfonso awoke to the sound of the doors to the interrogation cell slowly opening followed by two figures entering. Neither said anything to him as they entered and closed the door behind them. He eyed each carefully as they positioned themselves in the room but likewise said nothing. Both were Mendrari though by their clothing he could tell they were of different status.

The first wore a decorative robe of bright green with tiny red triangle patterns sewn into the fabric. This covered the majority of their body save for their hands and feet, both of which adorned with the finest off world shoes and gloves he had ever seen since coming to the planet. They sat down across from Alfonso at the table and set down the data pad they had been reading when they entered the room.

Unlike the first figure the second, who was lurking just outside of the cone of light provided by the lone light source of the room, was a far contrast in wardrobe. They wore a tight military uniform with Drenti metal fragments woven into the fabric essentially turning it into a sudo suit of armor.

Though he couldn’t make out much detail while they stood in the shadows, Alfonso saw a glint of crystal on the military figure’s shoulder indicating rank and wagered that they were at least a general in the Mendrari military; or whatever equaled to a general in the Terran Republic.

“Alfonso Muñoz,” the first figure at the table began, “do you know why you are here?”

Their native language was being translated by a linguistic unit attached to their throat. Even so, Alfonso found the experience unpleasant as it was like listening to two voices speaking at the same time.

“I will not answer questions until I am provided a Terran counsel.” Alfonso replied.

“This is not a human world,” the first figure replied dismissively, “you will not be provided a counsel for these proceedings.”

“I am a sovereign citizen of the Terran Republic and demand a-“

Alfonso never finished his sentence as the second military figure paced around the table and back handed him across the face. The blow wasn’t enough to break his jaw, yet a glob of blood fell from his mouth all the same. Mendrari skin having the same texture as sandpaper didn’t help the matter. Alfonso recovered from the blow feeling like his right check had been scraped clean off.

If the sudden violence was upsetting to the first figure they gave no sign of it. They merely waited for their military compatriot to finish before continuing.

“Given the severity of your crimes and the threat to our own security you present your government has not been informed of your detention.”

The words slowly sank into Alfonso as he straightened up and spat a thick glob of blood at the military figure’s feet.

“And here I thought your kind were above such crude tactics as kidnapping.” Alfonso chuckled. “And what sort of threat could I be if you already have me locked up in a cell?”

“A question I wish to have answered.” The first figure replied.

Entering several keys on their data pad a holographic panel appeared in the center of the table. Several images and transcripts began scrolling through the display while the first figure watched for any reaction from Alfonso.

“You have been identified as a leader of the terrorist organization D.A.A.I.F, or “Defense Against Alien Influence Front”.”

Alfonso shrugged. “It’s not a name I personally would have gone with, but you know about changing horses mid race and all.”

“We also know that the group has been planning a large attack scheduled to take place in the coming rotations; you will tell us the target and the method in which your compatriots will use.”

Alfonso leaned back in his chair and looked at the alien opposite him. “And why would I turn in my comrades, Mr… ?”

“Chu’ll,” The first figure replied before pointing to the second alien, “and this is Merg’ell.”

“And we both know they were not true comrades.” Chu’ll finished.

Alfonso said nothing as the holographic feeds changed and brought up only data regarding him. “We know that you only joined D.A.A.I.F five months ago and have never fully embraced their co leaders or values as an organization.”

“They hate your species, that’s enough for me.” Alfonso replied coldly, but Chu’ll shook his head.

“We know that their hate and your hate are not the same.” Chu’ll countered. “You were not at home with a group whose most dangerous attack to date has been a series robberies against banking institutions. You wanted more.”

“What are you expecting me to say?” Alfonso asked. “Do you think I’ll suddenly spill my guts and detail all my plans? Give out all the sources the group had? Beg for your forgiveness and plead for my life?”

“We are wasting our time with these games.” Merg’ell spoke for the first time. Their hand shot out and latched around Alfonso’s throat and tightened. “Tell us what we want and you may spend your remaining days without constant pain.”

Alfonso felt the grip tighten more and more around his throat; the sandpaper like texture of Merg’ell’s skin adding even more discomfort and pain as he started gasping for breath.

Just as he was started to see shadows creeping from the corners of his eyesight his would be killer relented and released him.

Gasping for breath he could barely hear Chu’ll speaking to him once more.

“We know you were part of the first contact incident with our people. We understand that your feelings towards are kind must be-“

“You….understand…nothing.” Alfonso spoke between gasps. He would be damned if this alien piss sack would preach to him that they understood his feelings.

“You took my wife and child from me, burned my home to the ground, slaughtered my friends and family and left my world to burn.” Alfonso replied. His anger swelled within him like a raging fire as he remembered the day the Mendrari invaded. He could still see the lifeless eyes of his pregnant wife looking up at him as he sifted through the rubble of his home. He could smell the scent of her burning hair, and feel the warmth drain from her skin.

“If your wife was here with you now, would she still love the man you have become?”

As if ripped from his memories by Chu’ll’s words Alfonso looked up at the alien and watched as they recoiled slightly in their chair. His gaze was that of death itself as he teetered on the idea of lunging forward and ripping the throat out of the alien.

It took a moment but Alfonso finally calmed himself down and decided on another tact.

“Do you know how your sphere drives work?”

Whatever Chu’ll or Merg’ell had been expecting the human to reply this was not it.

“Excuse me?” Chu’ll asked for clarification.

“Your sphere drives.” Alfonso repeated. “Do you know how they work?”

Merg’ell slammed his fist into the table. “I said en-“

Chu’ll held up a hand and the military lackey ceased his outrage. He huffed and retreated back into the surrounding shadows while Chu’ll answered.

“Engineering was never my strong suit.” The alien admitted.

“Whereas it was mine during my previous life.” Alfonso answered with a grin. “I loved technology and observing all of the tiny intricacies of how a device works.”

Now invested in the discussion he leaned forward against the table. “You see unlike jump drives my people use which only sends the ship it is attached to, your sphere drives essentially make a bubble around the entire ship easily a few kilometers in size and launch it as a whole. This makes it safer for travel.”

“I fail to see what this has to do with the topic at hand.” Chu’ll spoke, but this only made Alfonso nod as if he had just been asked the correct question from a favorite student.

“It all ties in but since you’ve been patient I can explain.”

“You are right that D.A.A.I.F was incompetent, but what they did have was a well-established network of sympathizers and suppliers able to get whatever you needed if you could provide enough funds.”

Wheels began turning for Chu’ll and Alfonso saw a glint in the alien’s eye as he started putting the pieces together.

“The bank robberies…” he began as Alfonso nodded.

“A means to get enough funds to purchase several dozen of your sphere drives.”

“To supply an attack fleet?” Merg’ell spoke up, but Alfonso shook his head.

“You’d have seen that many ships coming several systems away; no, I had a much better idea for them.” He looked at Chu’ll and smiled as the threat of the unknown began to plague the alien’s mind.

“What did you do?”

“Have you ever wondered what would happen if a sphere drive was activated in atmosphere?” Alfonso asked.

“They would….” Chu’ll began as the final piece fit into place. “Oh my gods.”

“Exactly.” Alfonso finished. “They’d rip apart everything that was within their sphere and launch it hurtling into space leaving a gaping void in its wake!”

Merg’ell pulled out a communicator of his own. “This is Merg’ell to command; begin immediate orbital scans of major population centers for sphere drive energies.”

“Still so small.”

Merg’ell cut off the link to look down at the human who was now looking up at him.

“What did you say?” Merg’ell demanded as he hoisted the human up again; only this time Alfonso was far less afraid.

“You think I would settle my revenge with just a few cities?” the human mocked. “No; just as you took my world from me I shall take yours.”

“You speak of madness!” Merg’ell shouted as he shook the tiny human. “You could not destroy a planet with sphere drives.”

“That depends on your definition of destruction.” Alfonso remarked with a grin.

Merg’ell was going to demand the human to elaborate but they did so without provocation.

“When you punch enough holes in a ship it will eventually sink; so what do you think will happen when those sphere drives detonate in the atmosphere across this entire world at the same time?”

The horrific picture finally came into focus for both aliens as they were no longer dealing with a terrorist threat, but a global extinction level event.

“How do we stop it!”

Both aliens demanded, but Alfonso just grinned and closed his eyes as he heard a low rumbling far down the corridor of the complex he was held in.

“I activated their countdown sequence the moment you capture me. It’s already too late.”

#humans are insane #humans are space oddities #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01

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