#if i figure out this tag thing then i'll stay. if tumblr Keeps on fucking me over. then im moving out

[hamadacare-xoxo]

i might change my mind later but right now, I feel like moving blogs at some point🤔 it's just that tumblr isn't the best with remembering my tags and its getting on my nerves that I can't rely on typing a little bit of words to get it on a post like 'headcanons' and the tag not showing up at all, but all of the little commentaries I ever made is saved 🙃

[kuiinncedes]

bro

[thebibliosphere]

To be clear, unless staff trips over the trail of extension cords keeping the servers running, Tumblr likely isn't going anywhere any time soon.

What the info we've seen suggests is that updates are going to slow down, maintenance is maybe going to get a little shaky, and we're going to see more glitches as time goes on and the remaining staff gets further behind their workload.

Is this a good thing? No, absolutely not.

Should you be panicking, jumping overboard, running for the hills, etc? Also no.

So what does it mean?

Well, for myself and several other creatives you all saw tagged in that post, it means we're looking around trying to figure out what to do in the long run. We're not running for the lifeboats. We're just eyeing the iceberg in the distance and getting our shit together in the event that the worst comes to pass.

Speaking for myself, I intend to crawl through the walls of Tumblr until they pry me out of the air vents armed with a broom and oven mitts. I'm not going anywhere until the lights go out, and even then, I'll be chewing on the wires.

But that doesn't mean I'm not looking around for somewhere to land when the time comes.

Myself and several others are not panicking about this, but we are trying to be organized about it.

I'm just old enough to remember when fandom websites being nuked overnight was a very real thing. You'd go to bed one night and wake up the next day to find friends you'd known for years were just gone with no means of contacting them because the site you'd been using got wiped. Entire collections of fandom history were just destroyed in the blink of an eye.

We don't want that again. And the good news is, we have time. We have time to back up our shit, time to swap contact info with our friends, and time to find a new place to exist within our communities while also staying here because Tumblr ain't dead yet.

She's just slowly going to wind down over time.

Unless, of course, they trip over the cables. Then we're fucked.

[ruporas]

apologies if you've already been asked this but do you have any favorite trigun fics? i absolutely adore your art btw!

thank you!!! and i've answered this on insta, but i don't think i've ever shared on tumblr... i'm not good at reading fics, esp long ones, because my attention span is pretty bad, but from the ones i have bookmarked, i'll share some that i like in no particular order

hills like white elephants (meet me halfway) - adlvnam

pairing: vashwood word count: 1.1k, sfw, vague post v.10 spoilers ‘I read a story once,’ Vash says, unsure. ‘I’m kind of thinking about it right now.’

i like a lot of adlvnam's fics, i find them very unique and creative in their execution, and their writing is wonderful! this was the first fic i've read from them and it's stuck with me ever since. others that i like from them are in manus tuas (no spoilers) and vox dei (warning for post vol.10 spoilers).

stay - Anonymous

pairing: vashwood word count: 2.3k, sfw, no spoilers “Hold up,” Vash groans. He presses his free hand to Wolfwood’s mouth and shushes him. He’s probably going for a stern look, though between his poor attempts to stop grinning like the biggest idiot this side of the planet and the way he’s patting him, it’s hard to take him seriously. “Stop laughin’. Where’s the keys?” “What keys?” Wolfwood tries to ask, muffled by Vash’s hand, and his tongue is a little thick and slow in his mouth so… something comes out, but it’s probably not very wordy. Word-like. Not a sentence, probably. (or, wolfwood and vash get drunk, bicker, and then share a bed together.)

i enjoyed the mundanity and silliness of this fic and i think about it from time to time... i think fics where one of them or both drink together are pleasant to read.

Last Summer - varilien

pairing: vashwood word count: 741, sfw, no spoilers You are what you love.

tags on this one are "sunrises, morning routines, coffee, sentimental" which caught my attention. very sweet and beautiful.

Rain - Kokohamstar

pairing: none, wolfwood centric word count: 768, sfw, major spoilers - post v.10 Ever since he was a little kid listening to Bible stories, he dreamed of the day the world would be washed clean and wondered what the rain would feel like on his face.

as most wolfwood centric fics, it was a gutpunch and melancholic, but still soooo.. augh.... the last paragraph really does it for me.

water bucket blues - fathomfive

pairing: vashwood word count: 3.7k, sfw, major spoilers, post trimax Vash the Stampede goes on the record about a friend he once had. Also about card games, cats, family, and some other things. "Start with a piece of the whole, Meryl said. It doesn’t have to be the first piece. Start with a specific. That’s what they mean when they throw around the words human interest. I know the pieces. Believing they make a whole is another thing. But she’s a broadcast professional and I trust her advice. Maybe if I can figure out how to tell one piece—like the story of Wolfwood as I knew him—I can learn how to tell the others."

i love vash pov fics and i love it when it's first person and this one in particular hits because it's his pov and he speaks, honestly, openly, telling a tale that he can't really flub because it's about the people he loved. i love how grounded this fic is in the present of max, i love how vash grows within the 3.7k words, i love how he moves forward with the world he's living in. this fic makes me teary if i think too much about it... it's really wonderful.

it’s a summer day, and I want to be wanted more than anything else in the world - goldenglitz

pairing: vashwood word count: 3.9k, nsfw, no spoilers Vash has the lung capacity of a man who’s cried for 150 years. It isn't like Wolfwood takes more than he gives — but like with most things, he barely keeps up with Vash. He works his body to the limit, even as his lungs burn and his legs and arms give out under him. They fuck like they’re on borrowed time. All of this makes it so easy — so much easier than just talking. Wolfwood would sometimes rather pull new and interesting noises from Vash with just his mouth than do anything else with it. Their own dialect: moans, groans, and four words. “Yes” — “Please” — “Vash” — “Wolfwood.”

i love all of their vashwood fics, they only have 3 but they're all lovely and has a sort of characterization to both vash and wolfwood i don't see often. definitely one of my faves, especially when it comes to explicit vw fics.

i think these are all the ones i'll share for now!!

[jessybarnes]

I'll Show You

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Rating: 18+ ONLY! Minors GO AWAY

Tags: NSFW Title Card, Angst, Arguments, Bondage, BDSM, Praise Kink, Fingering (female receiving), Oral (male receiving), Throat-fucking, Unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP KIDS!), Begging (obviously), Fluffy ending, Language, and I think that’s it. HEED THE WARNINGS PLEASE!

Betas: @winecatsandpizza

Word Count: 3.6k

Fic Aesthetic: Yours Truly

Dedicated to: @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men

A/N: This is a repost from my old Tumblr blog. I am in the process of moving all of my fics over to this blog. I hope you all enjoy!

From the moment you met Sam and Dean Winchester, you’d known your life was about to change. Be it bad or good was hard to determine, mainly because of what they did for a living, but a little part of it had to do with the fact that the elder of the two brothers didn’t seem to like you.

You couldn’t put your finger on it. Anytime he exchanged words with you, it was always cold and dismissive. Sam assured you that his brother would come around, but you weren’t born yesterday. Dean had something against you, and you, being the stubborn woman you were, aimed to figure it out. 

The three of you were sitting in the library sifting through lore for a case. There had apparently been reports of a Djinn hybrid in the Midwest, and you knew it had to be the work of Michael. Dean had his feet propped up on the table, a rather large dusty book in his hands. Sam was typing away on his laptop, the clicking of the keys being the only audible sound other than the occasional page turn.

You knew that finding a way to kill the latest and greatest monster of the week was what you should be doing, but you couldn’t focus. Not when this whole thing with Dean was eating at you. 

“I can’t do this anymore!”

The book you’d been holding was thrown carelessly onto the table, the sound reverberating off the walls making both brothers jump. 

Dean removed his boot-covered feet off the tabletop and planted them on the floor. You didn’t miss how his eyebrows knitted into a scowl or his signature eye roll.

“Giving up already, Y/N? You know, if the huntin’ life isn’t cut out for you, then you can see yourself out anytime.” 

Sam sighed and gave Dean his best bitch face.

“Dean! Whatever is going on with Y/N, I can assure you that you’re not helping!”

He turned his gaze to you, his hazel eyes looking at you sympathetically. You’d normally just keep your anger bottled up inside, but something inside you snapped. Being a hunter meant everything to you after a demon killed your kid sister, and for Dean to question your loyalty like that had crossed a line. Your anger started to rise within you, like a sea of molten lava until you were no longer in control of your emotions. 

Instead of storming off to your room and slamming the door for good measure like you normally would do, you stood and yanked the book Dean was reading out of his hand. You were gnashing your teeth together in such a snarl that it was a miracle they didn’t break.

“You think you’re so fucking smug, don’t you Winchester? You think you’re this big badass and that nothing can touch you. Well, let me tell you something.”

Your small hand grabbed onto the front of his shirt, bunching it up between your fingers as you got dangerously close to his face.

“You don’t fucking scare me in the least bit!”

The venom in your tone was palpable and with a hard push of your free hand, he and the chair went crashing to the floor. 

Without giving him a chance to fire an insult back, you headed into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. You could hear Dean’s muffled voice as he spat angrily in response to his brother’s laughs. It only made the smirk on your face wider. Maybe now Dean will show you some respect. 

The rest of the night was pretty quiet. You stayed in your room, scouring the internet for a way to kill the monster in question, and munched on some popcorn. The research came easily to you, your eyes scanning effortlessly through article after article. Even though you still hadn’t found a weapon to kill this Djinn on steroids, you knew your efforts would make Sam proud. 

You felt his presence before he knew you did. He loomed in the doorway, leaning against it like it was the only thing keeping him from falling.

“Can I help you, Dean?”

You didn’t even bother to stop reading the article you’d found. He was probably just here to start something with you, and you had neither the time nor the energy to fight. Instead of replying, he pushed off the doorframe and stalked towards you, his shadow spreading across you and your keyboard. 

You knew he was waiting for you to look at him, but you honestly didn’t feel like giving him the satisfaction. Why should you? He’d been nothing but an ass to you since you moved in. So instead of giving him what he wanted, you continued to read. 

Apparently, Dean got tired of not having your attention because the next thing you knew, he’d taken your laptop and tossed it on your pile of dirty laundry in the corner. He crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw clenching as he looked down at you.

“What the hell do you want, Dean? I’m trying to find a way to kill that fucking Djinn. You’re not still pissed about me putting you on your ass, are you? I mean, you kind o-HEY! LET ME GO!” 

In one swift motion, he’d pulled you to your feet and shoved you against the wall. Dean’s chest heaved and his nostrils flared as he towered over you with his full height.

“You don’t fucking get it, do you Y/N?”

His forearm pressed into your chest, not hard enough to hurt you, but firmly enough to hold you in place. 

Even at your disadvantage you still stood your ground. Your eyes narrowed perilously, certain that if looks could kill then Dean would have been done for.

“Oh, you think I don’t get it?! Trust me, Dean. I think I get exactly what you’re doing. Ever since I came here, you’ve been nothing but hostile to me! It’s because I’m a woman, isn’t it? You think just because I’m a woman that I can’t hold my own. Well, I’ve got news for you, Dean Winchester. I can do the job just as good as you any day of the fucking year!” 

You were so caught up in getting your point across that you hadn’t noticed the amused look on his face. His laugh filled the small room as he let go of you. Tears streamed down his face as he hunched over, and it pissed you off that he thought this was amusing. 

Finally, he swiped his sleeve over his eyes and took a few deep breaths to regain his composure.

“Is that what you think? You really think I’m a dick to you because you’re a woman? Oh my God… I thought you of all people would at least get it.”

He sighed and ran a hand across his face.

“Look, Y/N, It’s not because you’re a woman. Hell, some of the greatest hunters I know are women. I’m trying to protect you! I don’t want you to go through what Sammy and I have gone through. You’ve already lost one family member, and I’ll be damned if you lose your life, too. Just… Let Sammy and I handle the hunts okay? You can hold down the fort here in the Bunker and be our research guru. That I know you can handle.” 

It was your turn to laugh.

“What do you know about handling anything? You could barely handle that case with the nest of nearly invincible vampires. What makes you think you can just walk in here and tell me what I can and can’t deal with? I mean, as long as we are on the topic, Let’s just be honest with ourselves, shall we?"

"You couldn’t handle me if I came with a user manual!”

The look on Dean’s face darkened. It sent heat straight to your core, something that you could almost always control when it came to the elder brother. Normally, his asshole demeanor outweighed him being the sexiest man you’d ever laid eyes on. You swallowed thickly as he invaded your space again. His once sparkling green eyes were now clouded with something new, something you’d only seen him offer to the occasional stripper or hooker that he brought back to the hotel.

“Are you challenging me, Y/N?” 

You tried to hide the fact that he was having an effect on you, but your flushed skin and rapid heartbeat betrayed you. Your answer came easily, and the submissive part of you that lay dormant for so long surfaced like a rekindled flame.

“Yes.” 

Dean brought one of his hands up to your face and cradled your cheek in it, the touch alone sent sparks through your veins. His freckles were so easy to see this close. Constellations mapped the entirety of his cheeks, and you briefly wondered if he had them elsewhere. Your eyes flicked from his intense gaze down to his lips, silently willing him to close the small gap between you and devour your mouth.

“Now now, Y/N, is that any way to talk to me? I think you know better. Yes what, sweetheart?” 

You looked down at your bare feet, Y/E/C eyes focusing on the remnants of the chipped polish on some of your toenails. Your mind contemplated what was about to happen. You could still back out of this, push him out of the way, and run. That wouldn’t solve anything though. Running from your deepest desires, from Dean, was what you’d essentially been doing for months. It was now or never and quite frankly you wanted to give in. You wanted him to have full control over you, and you’d dreamed about it more than you’d like to admit.

“Y-Yes, Sir.” 

Two of his fingers rested underneath your chin, raising it so you were looking up at him.

“Good girl.”

His praise was the first nice thing he’d ever said to you, and you’d be lying if it didn’t make your heart sing. His lips closed the distance and pressed against your own hungrily. His tongue slid into your awaiting mouth and you moaned sinfully. He tasted of cinnamon and whiskey, just like you’d always imagined.

Dean broke the kiss and touched his forehead against yours, his hands coming to rest on the curvature of your waist.

“Go to my room, Y/N. I want you to be stripped and kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed before I get back. Do you understand?”

Your response was immediate. Almost like a reflex, as it left your lips in a whisper.

“Yes, Sir.”

He watched you leave the confines of your room before heading the opposite way. Your feet padded down the hallway and came to a stop outside the closed door of Dean’s room. It had been years since you’d had a dom, and even then they hadn’t exuded as much dominance as Dean had just moments ago. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you entered his room and closed the door behind you. The smell of his cologne wrapped itself around you like a hug. The familiar scent calmed your nerves instantly and soon you found yourself naked and kneeling at the foot of the bed just as you had been told to do. 

Dean came in a few minutes later and set what sounded like something heavy on top of his dresser. You didn’t dare look up though. He hadn’t given you permission, and you wanted to show him that you could be good and obey him.

“Look at you, doing what you’re told like a good, little girl. See? I knew you could do this. I bet you’re soaking wet already, and I haven’t even touched you yet.” 

Once again his fingers came to rest under your chin, tilting your head so you were looking up at him through your lashes.

“Get on the bed.”

He wasn’t mean about it, but his tone was firm and laced with an underlying warning of consequence if you disobeyed. Swifty and quietly you climbed onto the comforter and resumed your kneeling position. Dean walked around to the other side of you and sat down. He was still fully clothed, but you could clearly see his erection tenting his jeans.

“Alright, sweetheart, let’s talk about the rules. You are to address me as sir, and only sir. Don’t cum until I tell you to, and if you ever feel uncomfortable with something that I am doing, then please use the safeword ‘cake’. Do you understand? 

Hearing that your safeword was cake confused you at first, but when you thought about it for a moment it made sense. Dean was a pie fanatic. Especially if it was pecan pie, but you’d never seen him eat cake. Let alone mention it. So you could see how he’d come up with it in the end.

“Yes, sir. I understand, sir.”

Dean seemed convinced by your response so you stayed still and waited for his next command. You could hear him pick whatever he had brought with him off the dresser, and your pulse quickened at the thought of what he was about to do to you. 

The bed dipped behind you, and his hot breath fanned across the back of your neck making you shiver.

“Clasp your hands behind your back for me, baby. I’m going to restrain you now so you stay still for me.”

You brought your hands behind your back, interlacing your fingers together so your wrists rested against your tailbone. The feeling of the nylon rope being looped around your wrists made you impossibly wetter. The thought of being restrained and letting none other than Dean Winchester worship your body was enough to make you cum, but you couldn’t do that. Not when he’d specifically told you not to. 

Dean made quick work of the black rope. He maneuvered around your torso, wrapping it around each elbow and tying a knot in the middle to lock your arms in place. The rest of it was placed expertly around your chest and tied off, the final knot resting along your shoulder blades. He let you fall head first into the mattress, your head turning to the side so you could breathe. He stepped back to admire his work.

“A damn good job if I do say so myself. It’s not too tight, is it, darlin’? 

You took a moment to tug at your binds and unclasp and reclasp your fingers. Everything still had circulation, but you still couldn’t break free if you tried.

“No, everything feels fine, sir.”

You heard him walk behind you, no doubt enjoying the view of you on display to him.

“God, you look so fucking beautiful like this. Look at you… showing me that perfect, round ass and that tight, little pussy of yours.”

He ran one of his fingers through your folds, and it took everything in you not to moan. Your teeth clamped down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from making any noise.

“Mmmm just as I thought, soaking wet just for me.”

The thick digit left you and you looked into his lust-blown eyes as his lips closed around it.

“So good, Y/N. Now, are you ready for me to test you? Gonna show me what a good girl you are?”

You shook your ass at him for good measure and replied without hesitation. “I’m ready, sir.” 

Dean grabbed onto your hips and pulled you to the edge of the bed, his clothed erection applying slight friction to your needy cunt. He ran his middle and index fingers through your juices a few times before sliding them into you.

“Be as loud as you want, princess. Sam isn’t here to hear you. It’s just you and me.”

Ever so slowly, he moved his fingers in and out of you, making you moan loudly.

“F-Fuck!” 

His pace increased, and you felt the coil of heat tighten. You were so close already and he’d barely gotten started. You felt your walls tighten slightly and you squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to maintain control. Dean knew how hard you were trying and you also knew he was competing with you. Using his skills to his advantage to see how much you could take.

“Oh shit… shit shit shit… I don’t know if I can…. FUCK!”

Dean curled his fingers so they hit that spot inside you with each thrust. Soon you couldn’t hold back any longer. With a cry of his name, you came hard, squirting all over his hand and the bed. 

The white-hot orgasm nearly made you pass out, and by the time your climax was over you knew you were in trouble. You couldn't see his face, but you were sure Dean wasn’t happy.

“Tsk tsk tsk … Y/N, you knew the rules. I seem to remember you agreeing to them and look at what you’ve done. You’ve made a mess, sweetheart.”

Just as you were about to apologize, he picked you up and set you gracefully on your knees.

“Are you ready to show me how sorry you are?” 

Balancing on your knees while you were tied up like this was difficult, but being this close to Dean’s cock made your mouth water.

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry for disobeying you, sir. May I make it up to you by having you fuck my throat?”

The groan that left his lips was downright the most sinful thing you’d ever heard, and you definitely wanted to hear him make that noise again.

“Fuck… you read my mind, sweetheart.”

Dean began to circle you, watching you like a hawk would its prey. His tie was the first thing to go. Seeing him reach his right hand up and rip it off shouldn’t be as sexy as it was, but at this moment anything Dean did was sexy. He stopped in front of you and undid his belt and the top button on his pants, letting them pool carelessly at his ankles.

Finally, he freed his cock and you watched as he pumped it a few times. A bead of precum wept from the tip, and you leaned forward to catch it on your tongue. Your mouth closed around the head and Dean let you set the pace at first, more praises flying from his mouth as you took him in as deep as you could. 

“That’s it, princess… suck my cock. Mmmmm, you’re so fucking good at that. Taking it so well.” 

His hand fisted in your hair and you let him take over. You relaxed your throat as he took what he wanted from you, your eyes watering more and more every time he hit the back of your throat.

“Jesus… you have one helluva mouth, Y/N.”

He began to pant and his thrusts began to falter. His grip loosened on your hair and you whined as he pulled himself from your mouth.

“Now, baby, don’t you want me to cum in that pretty pussy of yours?”

As much as you wanted to make him come apart with your mouth, having him buried inside you was more appealing at the moment.

“Please, sir. Please fuck me.” 

Once again he picked you up, moving you back onto the bed with ease. Dean crawled behind you again, placing a hand on each of your hips. Without warning, he sheathed himself all the way to hilt, both of you crying out in pleasure. Dean set a harsh pace, his fingertips surely leaving bruises on your skin. You knew you would be sore. He was not, by any means, lacking in size. Not to mention the fact that he didn’t allow you to adjust to him. 

His thrusts began to falter again, and you felt that familiar feeling come back. You tightened yourself around him, and he growled, fucking you harder into the bed.

“S-Sir!... please, sir! Please, may I cum? … F-Fuck!”

You were so close to the peak of pure bliss that you could almost taste it. You just needed a little more. Dean grabbed onto the knotted rope in the middle of your back and pulled you so your back was to his chest. His other hand snaked around your body and circled your clit vigorously.

“Fuck, Y/N… C’mon, princess… Cum all over my cock. Let go, baby.” 

A few more seconds of him fucking up into you and you fell over the edge taking him with you. Your walls milking Dean for all he was worth. He held you there for a few minutes, your heavy breathing in sync as you both came down from your high.

Dean placed a chaste kiss on your back and pulled out of you. He took his time untying you, being careful not to irritate your skin further. Once you were free you stretched your arms and popped your knuckles. 

Dean sat with his back to the headboard and pulled you into his lap, his hands rubbing your back gingerly.

“You did so well, Y/N. I’m so proud of you. You’re amazing.”

He kissed you sweetly and you melted against his chest, your eyes fluttering shut from exhaustion. 

You listened to the steady beat of his heart and somehow made your brain form a coherent thought.

“I’m glad we were able to settle things, Dean. I was beginning to think you really did hate me. I understand everything now.”

He kissed the top of your head and held you protectively. “I could never hate you, Y/N. Not when you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you, princess.”

His words shocked you, but you were too tired to respond. Sleep came easy for you in Dean’s arms, and you couldn’t wait to wake up tomorrow to see what this new life with Dean would bring you.

[malecius]

tagged by @xalatath!!!

putting this under a read more because it's a little long haha

1. named after anyone?

i *was* going to be named after someone, but i don't really remember whom. the names my mom had chosen ended up being too similar to some of my cousins, so in the end i was named something else.

my normie name is gabriel, so i'm technically named after a biblical angel lol

2. last time I cried?

several times yesterday over: my family; epic the musical; the game sea of stars

3. kids?

the idea is wonderful given how much i miss my daughter, but realistically i'm aware i wouldn't enjoy pregnancy in the slightest, and i'm not in a place to be able to raise a child without fucking them up.

my partner and i haven't talked about children, so i don't know what their stance on having them would be (though i'm pretty sure they wouldn't want to get pregnant either, which is fine by me) so that'll be an ongoing conversation should our feelings change

4. sports?

never played a sport long enough to care for it. i used to run and i biked way more than i do now, and i was rowing for a while too, but none of it *really* stuck

5. sarcasm?

i try not to be sarcastic because i'm unsure how my tone comes across from being autistic. i don't like sounding or being mean. i'll only be sarcastic if i can make it abundantly clear that i'm being sarcastic haha

6. first thing i notice about something?

is this meant to say "someone"? because if it is, then, in person, i usually notice people's body language. i like figuring out what makes people comfortable and tear down a wall or two

online, i notice how people talk and how they express their excitement. i am not very well-educated in the slightest but i love language and how people use it so much!!!

7. eye color?

dark brown, almost black :}

8. scary movies / happy endings?

alas i cannot do scary movies if i want to preserve my sanity as i am psychotic and can easily acquire delusions that i'm being watched. i do love a sappy good ending

9. talents?

i learned to walk by walking on the tips of my toes, so i've always been good at walking in heels haha

in terms of skills though? i've been drawing for as long as i've held a pencil. i would share more of my art but ah, the majority of it is against tumblr's TOS now

10. place of birth?

a tiny town in michoacán, méxico :}

11. hobbies?

primarily drawing! but i love a good indie video game and crocheting when i'm in the mood. sometimes i dabble in writing short stories

12. pets?

*technically* we don't have one since he's my neighbor's, but she did an awful job keeping him indoors so we take care of him now. my little idiot of a black cat, chimuelo! (named after toothless but in spanish)

13. height?

5'2 (157.48cm) if you round up. it's very important to me that you round up

14. fav school subject?

i've always liked english and history, but the advanced spanish classes i took in community college were some of the best learning environments i've ever been in

15. dream job?

i'm pretty lost in life right now haha so i have no idea. just being able to stay afloat is a pretty wonderful idea right now

----------

not tagging anyone, but if you haven't done this yet and see this, then you're tagged!!! :}

[faejilly]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @shadoedseptmbr ages and ages ago

tagging uh... i have no fucking clue. anyone who writes! no pressure! please blame me! @fancytrinkets @la-muerta @leahazel @jadesabre301 & ?!?!?

1: How many works do you have on AO3?

178 fics, since this is a fic writer meme.

2: What's your total AO3 wordcount?

1,193,590, with the caveat that that includes a collab fic of 190,409 words of which I was primarily writing only one of three POV characters. (And also one other shorter collab and the minimal amount of words required to describe the podfic/fanmixes.)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly Shadowhunters (TV) atm, a lot of BioWare Games (especially Dragon Age 2) and then a truly random smattering of smaller games and tiny!fandom prompts back when askbox games were more common here plus Yuletide/Fic Exchange Matches On Unexpected Things. (I think I've broken 20 fandoms on AO3, depending on how one counts the various DA sub-fandoms.)

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

These are all Shadowhunters and Malec fics. The first three are complete, the last two are WIPs.

two are halves of one

My only posted 5+1 fic, a series of outsider perspectives on Alec & Magnus & their very long day of denied cuddles/alone time. 😅

i cannot touch because they are too near

Parabatai Feels & Magic Lore! I wrote this for a Season 3B countdown event, and it's Magnus Being A Nerd and trying to figure out how this parabatai thing works. I snuck Jace and Michael Wayland feels in there kind of sideways too. I do think it's one of the most self-indulgent things I've ever written (epistolary! melancholy comfort! No Plot!) with many thanks to @rutherinahobbit because she helped me land the ending.

with an if in its soul

So I killed Alec off-screen right before the fic starts, and proceeded to keep poor Magnus very upset about it for the following 22k words. (It gets better! I promise! No one stays dead!) I got many angry and wailing comments, I have never been so proud. (This one suffered from very dramatic scope creep while I was trying to write it, which amused tumblr a lot, and this time I have to thank @poemsfromthealley for helping to make it work. And also the blurb, because I just could not figure out how to post it for ages.)

i am for you

Epistolary!Fluff Fic that was supposed to be a bit of a missed connection thing for @pameluke but Alec instead proposed to Magnus on first sight and I just kind of went with that instead. /I am not in charge of the voices in my head

It is the first fic I ever had really break containment and get a lot of engagement/comments/subs/etc. It has been out-kudosed now, obviously as it's #4 on this list, but that's only because I killed the momentum and never finished it. 😅😅😅 ISTFG I am going to finish it some day though!

if broken hearts were whole

From a soulmates/massage combined prompt meme thing ALSO for @pameluke. I got stuck on this one largely because I had three different prequel/s1 retellings in my head at the same time and I kind of tangled them all up too much to get any of them done. I will eventually figure this one out too, but I may have to finish one of the other things to sort of clean my brain out, and I haven't managed that either.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

In theory? I got hung up on a comment from an FTH bidder the year I failed to finish my FTH fic, and didn't want to reply to their comment 'til I wrote their fic?

which doesn't make much sense, but brains are weird, so there we are

someday I'll answer the backlong. it's only like two or three years at this point? 😅😭🤣

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

so about uh... five years ago? there was a really popular gifset format from an Elizabeth Hewer poem called in one timeline and I haven't the faintest idea how to gifset so I wrote a fic for Malec instead. [ao3]

I have written other things which Have Angst, but for me I tend to ease the ending... this is one of the few where I didn't.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Everything Else! (Almost)

I think, as an exercise in the true form of Happily Ever After, I'd have to go with Fine Feathers, which is an epilogue to a Georgette Heyer Regency Romance novel I did for Yuletide 2016.

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

Not usually. I don't even get people yelling at me to update on my WIPs, which may be hateful but isn't the same thing 😅

/and I'm certainly not complaining about either of these things, but I wish I knew how I avoided The Discourse™️so I could do it on purpose

9. Do you write smut?

I used to pretty regularly. I was even known as a smut!fic writer when Dragon Age Fandom and I were mutually more active together. Not so much (on either the writing quantity or the requests for more smut) for Shadowhunters.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Mostly no? I did two very short ficlets for Bingo Squares. I do still believe that Leverage is the Fix-It Fandom that fits everywhere and thus only kind-of counts as a crossover, plus I wrote a Shadowhunters / Inception bit with Ariadne as a Warlock.

I do also enjoy a good fusion fic, aka using a different canon as an AU setting, rather than combining characters from two settings.

For example: Shadowhunters Characters as BAU Agents from Criminal Minds!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of? I've seen it happen to co-authors though, and other friends

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! I am still stunned and amazed and delighted by this!

Batty_Blue translated several of my Shadowhunters fics into Russian:

a flower of always i cannot touch because they are too near trust your heart ashes of angels / ashes of roses

And Pomyluna translated 'First Choice' into Polish

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes!

Only once successfully (aka one and done and finished and posted), and that was entirely thanks to my co-author Raph. 😅 (Against All Odds for @galedekarios back when I knew her as Chignon on an actual forum prior to tumblr. She's who got me onto tumblr, so if you met me here? That's her fault. 🥰)

I have started things with people a few times that never got posted, and there's a massive Mass Effect retelling on potentially permanent hiatus, though all three of us do hold out hope that someday our lives will align again. (Persephone Rising)

14. What‘s your all-time favourite ship?

Me & Sleep

(Sorry, can't do it, can't choose. Beware My Armada. With a couple ancient ship leviathans which can raise themselves from the deep with the slightest provocation.)

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Every thing I have ever posted (except for 12 Moons) is something that I do in fact hold out hope I will eventually finish.

Things I have not started posting are too numerous to count and/or list. Sometimes they come back. Sometimes they are fertilizer for other things that will be written later.

16. What’s your writing strengths?

Dialogue and hopeful melancholy? I get a lot of compliments on emotion/mood, and I do feel like I am usually pleased with the, idk, vibes of most of what I write.

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

Plot & structure! What is? How do? What do you mean I have to have things happen rather than just reacting all the time?!?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I have done it with mixed success and there are definitely ways to do it more accessibly than I did. It can add a lot, but you do have to think about the execution.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Uh. I think Lois & Clark back when I was a teen!jilly. Either that or Sailormoon when I was a slightly older teen!jilly?

In terms of posting in public, it was Bioware something, either Mass Effect or Dragon Age: Origins back around when Thing 2 was born. And he's 14 now, so... 😅

Orion's Belt, I think? I didn't originally post it on AO3, and then I deleted myself off the internet for awhile, and then I re-uploaded everything, and I'm bad at time in the best of circumstances, which that clearly was not, so it might not have been that one specifically but it was close.

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

I CAN'T CHOSE JUST ONE WTF

As a formative event/process, I have a certain enduring fondness for Lost for Words, which was like the first fic I really wrote while in fandom... I was social about it and posted while I was writing and finished (eventually) and it is still the longest single story I have ever written. (Tho I am for you will beat it out when I finish that.)

It's not particuarly good from the perspective of who I am as a writer some dozen years later, but it's sincerely meant cotton candy, at least. 🤣

[wizardsaur]

I've been struggling a lot lately. Which is fine. This is tumblr and I'm allowed to be myself on here.

I'm self diagnosed autistic, please don't come at me about this. The story's kind of funny, but I've been repeatedly peer reviewed by a over a dozen formally diagnosed autistics - in vastly different scenarios - and they all tag me within 20 minutes. Up to this point, I've managed life with whatever brain spicy... and nowadays, I feel like I have my needs met most of the time.

Which is to say, I was okay never getting diagnosis for it I live in the US and Ableism is a massive fucking problem here. I advocated, I stood with my folks. And I was proud to be a support for folks with higher needs than me.

Something is different about me, and I thought for sure I knew what it was. I figured I'd just have to work harder than all the normies for a "Normal" life. I was willing to make that work.

But now... my body doesn't stop hurting. An old friend, the first "pretty sure you're autistic" friend and I had gotten back in touch lately. I truly wanted to be friends again, because our lives kinda fell apart at the same time way back when. We didn't get a chance to really be friends, we were just sad in the same close knit circle.

So I asked her, "You have this disorder, right? This set of disorders that tend to exist together for some fucking reason..... can I give you a list of shit that's been happening lately, and you tell me if I'm crazy?"

My symptoms, as well as a million other little symptoms that put me in the: "I'm pretty sure I have hEDS and POTS, because this has been my entire life.... it's just NEVER been this bad before."

I'm starting to need mobility aids, I'm slowing down. I need to wear braces now, and I can't keep acting like that isn't the case. It's been getting bad since like, late June - and then something clicked when I tried to quit my job.

My boss is a dick and I'm an overworked overachiever. I tried to walk out quit on him, out of the blue. When we were already understaffed, I might add (and had been, for months). I got back from a road trip Sunday, and went back to work - hoping things would be better..... and it was still a shitshow. Wednesday, I decided I was leaving on my day off - Thursday.

The motherfucker got me to stay. I made a 50 year old man cry, and he got me to stay. It was desperate, and it sounded so sincere, and he promised things would change... it's been a month. His supervisor shows up next week, and her higher up too. I stayed. I believed him....

Saturday night, I'm moving slow. Everything hurts like it did on the road trip. But now it's worse, and nothing's going away like it used to. And suddenly, I remember- things aren't supposed to hurt all the time. The usual amount of pain, is no pain.

Monday at lunch... I couldn't hold a fork. I ugly cried in the break room. A customer passed me to get to the bathroom and hugged me - I don't know her name. I'm 27. I was sobbing in a stranger's hug for a minute. (Whoever you are, if you see this, thank you.)

I went to the doctor, and have been taken seriously about my hEDS & POTS concern ever since. It's only been a few weeks, and I hope I'm not jinxing it... but. Doctors and therapists have heard me, and replied: "How did you not face this sooner? That is very likely your issue. Let's direct you to the right resources."

Which is WILDLY FUCKING DIFFERENT from every single other experience I've ever read or heard from anyone else. Maybe for once, things will work the way they need to. The way they should in a perfect society. And either I'll get diagnosed as hEDS with POTS, or I won't and we can find out what the issue really is. Because I'm in chronic pain, and it fits the bill unnervingly well.

The wild thing, is my life tends to completely shift gears every yea or two- over a few weeks. In absolutely bananas story ways. I had an apocalypse vision once, lost everything a month later.

I can't help but wonder if there's some big Universal Life Test built into this experience. But I moved my altar. And I'm finishing a journal. I feel like next month will be the start of my Real Adult Life. It's hard to explain. I'm very lucky to be having a Good Side to this whole situation.

[voxofthevoid]

Hi Vox! Is me, werewolf anon. How you been? Hopefully feeling better from your sickness?

I took your advice and started reading "The way it follows you home" and so far it's been a fun ride! Past Gojo being jealous of Future Gojo over Future Yuji is adorable lol. Also your "Itadori sensei" seems so much more responsible than Gojo ever was! But I must admit my favorite part was Future Yuji giving the watch to Past Nanami. Even though for this Yuji, Nanami has been dead a thousand years, he still misses him so much. I thought you wrote that wistful nostalgia and pain really beautifully and I'm glad that Past Nanami understood how significant this gesture was. Good job! I'm looking forward to you finishing the rest!

And I usually don't wade into ship discourse because I find it exhausting but I read you've been getting some negativity and I'm so sorry to hear that. I truly don't understand why people want to invest that much time and energy into shitting on other people's likes when they can just focus on what they like. The tags are RIGHT THERE. The back button is RIGHT THERE. It's the reader's responsibility to set their own boundaries. The whole point of AO3 caters to that.

Also I really appreciate how THOROUGHLY you tag. You even expand on the author notes. So these haters literally have no excuse! For example, I tend to stay away Noncon and am selective about dubcon. I'm really grateful the care you put into first warning the readers because then I can make my own choice if I am in a headspace to read it.

And I want to emphasize that I think you should write whatever the hell you want because it's YOUR space. Just like it's MY job to create the online experience I want.

THAT BEING SAID...you are definitely the author I go: "Hmm...I usually don't read fics with this tag but I'll try it because it's Vox." 😂 Like the captured mermaid Bucky fic. Oooh yeah I definitely did a thousand yard stare after to process that one lol! But I love how your fics help me get out of my comfort zone and explore in the safety of fiction. And no surprise, I've loved every single one.

So what I'm trying to say is, you do you. I think there's many readers who are grateful for all your hard work.

Here's a token of my appreciation. It's not much but hopefully it puts a smile on your face. Once again cursing Tumblr for being unable to attach an image file on anon asks! Take care!

https://u.cubeupload.com/Anon9000/Xu1nOV.png

Hello there!

Ahh, I’m glad you’re liking that fic so far! It’s close to the end. Penultimate chapter will go up in a few hours, and the final chapter will be out in Feb, the cosmos willing. Gojou reacting to his own self entertains me endlessly, so I keep writing it. Two versions of that…very loud personality existing at the same time in each other’s vicinity would have one hell of a blast radius, and putting Yuuji squarely in it is one of my favorite things to do in JJK. And I do write Yuuji as a more responsible teacher than Gojou, true! But you can guess that his decency and restraint rarely last.

Not over Nanami’s death yet, huh? Mood though 🍻 It’s great to know that was your favorite scene! And I'm glad the emotional elements came through well.

Stay safely out of ship discourse, my friend. It ain’t worth it. It tends to come find me, but ah well. In JJK, it’s not even ship discourse that keeps haunting me; it’s fucking top–bottom discourse. I haven’t run into anyone pissy about my choice of Le Problematique ships yet (and I sure hope it stays that way). And top/bottom is one of the few things I don’t tag, solely because several instances of hypocrisy in general fandom pissed me off and I’m spiteful on a good day, but it’s also not something that’s hard to figure out. Those familiar with me know I stick to a single dynamic, and others will learn. Otherwise, there’s trusty CTRL+F. That all aside, I’m glad you like my tagging practices! I try to make it so that those who want spoilers/warnings will be able to access them, while those who don’t can hide the additional tags and ignore my drop-down warnings.

I did do a double-take when you said you tend to avoid noncon and then name-dropped the captive mer!Bucky fic—but in a good way! I can’t tell you how wonderful—that’s not a strong enough word, really—it is to know my fics can be that kind of a safe exploration for you. That’s hands-down one of the greatest compliments I’ll ever hear about my stories 💗

And don’t worry, I’ve mostly found very lovely people in fandom. JJK is a little more obnoxious about certain things than I’m used to, but the vast majority of my readers and fellow fans are kind, supportive, and delightful. I’m prone to getting pretty pissed off when assholes pop up in my inbox, but it usually leaves me ten times as determined to keep doing my thing.

I LOVE THAT YUUJI! Holy shit, he’s adorable. I want to pinch his cheeks and also eat him 🥺

I've saved that to my fanart folder for future pick-me-ups. Thank you so much! You’re a sweetheart 💗

[lazaruspiss]

20 questions for writers

tagged by @roipecheur mwah mwah !!

1. how many works do you have on AO3? - 34

2. what's your total AO3 word count? - 65,516

3. what fandoms do you write for? - its pure DC brainrot babes. maybe that'll change one day, but i have a hard time balancing multiple interests

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos? - A Kind Place To Rest, What’s in a gift?, Indulgence, Always a Kitten, Red Wings

5. do you respond to comments? - i try!!! but know that even if i don't reply i give each and every comment a lil smooch

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? - most of my stuff is pretty fucked up, but Black fish, blue fish, old fish, new fish. and The Leagues That Go Bump In The Night are probably up there? both because they involve Dick experiencing violent assaults with the promise of more to come and because he doesn't compartmentalize/justify/repress it much at all. so he's just forced to experience The Horrors. Damian's chapter in A curse in disguise. is the thing that actually makes me wanna yell though. I wrote that?? I only have myself to blame for making me feel things??? what the fuck man.

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? - tough question. hm. I was able to pull up like, 6 candidates, but I'm not really sure how to measure "happy ending". Endings that were the most... more happy by the end than when they started...? i guess? There are a few that end on a "and the ship sailed happily ever after" type note. New Beginnings is a bit more enthusiastically happy, because Dick and Kori are just so damn excited to have babies

8. do you get hate on fics? - most of the hate i've gotten has been tumblr anons, lol

9. do you write smut? If so, what kind? - the freaky kind >:) (22/34 of my fics are explicit)

10. do you write crossovers? - nah. thought about it, have wanted to, but it takes a bit more planning than a regular fic

11. have you ever had a fic stolen? - nah

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? - no, but i would welcome it so long as it linked back and all that

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? - WAIT YES I HAVE. in middle school i think? during a sleepover a friend and i sat together on a couch and sent emails back and forth, taking turns adding onto a smut fic about british gaming youtubers that i dont think they even knew? also our incredibly innocent/prudish christian friend might have also been there lmao. that fic stayed in our emails im pretty sure.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship? - ough...h hg..... jay and cole from ninjago. w other series i tend to be more "pick a fav and explore all possible parings involving them", but i only ever picture jay and cole with each other. for me that means something

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will? - oh uh. gotta bust out file explorer hold on. I did plan on making an entire series of fics connected to Little Princess, but I doubt I'll get to that, especially bc im not that proud of that fic anymore. there are a couple more fairly detailed and large projects sitting in my scrapped folder. and i mean, i keep a scrapped folder bc that way i dont have the pressure of finishing it but i still have the option if i want to.

16. What are your writing strengths? - uhm. uh.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? - forget to write the words. i also have a bit of dyslexia and miss stuff no matter how much i proof read

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? - depends? if it's a full conversation then i think i'd opt for <dialogue> or something like that, but if it's for random background chatter or mixed language dialogue then maybe just use the actual words. kind of have to, in the second case. spanglish type talk is fun actually, like sometimes i just talk like that to try and figure out what spanish i remember

19. First fandom you wrote for? - probably minecraft youtubers? the first i posted online was my hero academia tho. dont ask me about MHA btw i literally only care about kaminari and stopped keeping up like 4 years ago

20. Favourite fic you've written? - uh. hm. Aha! only my third fic but it ticks all my boxes and i love it dearly: Lulu Belle And The Cat-Chaser

[whompingwillowsworld]

Every once in a while I'll think about the good times with my ex fiance and how he had a legitimate relationship with my family members unlike the man I married.

I was just thinking about a time where he bought new flip flops and left them by the front door and my sister came out with her dogs for their morning potty time and she said "oh, I see I have new flip flops" because him and my sister wore the same size shoe and she always slipped them on to run outside and it just... it's a weird fucking feeling to let myself mourn losing those moments... I wasn't allowed to do that the last almost 5 years, not out loud at least.

There is one singular post on his old, long abandoned tumblr with a tag, my tag he used for me and when things were at their absolute worst in my marriage and I'd start having suicidal thoughts again I'd go look at it and then cry myself to sleep. I don't know that I'll ever understand why I did it... maybe as a reminder that I was loved then, and I'd be loved again. Maybe I should ask my therapist to help me sort through that... but I felt less alone just seeing that word.... "sweetheart" under the post. Like a glimmer of hope that even after all the fucked up shit we went through and did to each other that he was out in the world still thinking I was worthy of being loved and found a way to still love me. I've never admitted that to anyone, and maybe it should have stayed that way, but keeping quiet has proved to just send me deeper into a spiral, and I don't really have anything left to lose.

There was genuine love and good times no matter how hard it is to admit. I believe in my soul that he loved me and my family but it was so fucking abusive and toxic that I couldn't live the rest of my life wondering when breaking doors and verbal abuse would escalate to physical violence. In another lifetime, maybe we could have made it work, but I took the "easy" way out and jumped right into another toxic relationship with someone who never loved or respected me.... and I married him. 🤦‍♀️ Afterall people don't abandon those they love, they abandon those that they're using.

I think maybe being alone is the answer right now. I think maybe it always has been... I hope not forever because I'd really like to have a life partner. I'd really like to be with someone who sees what I bring to the table, who genuinely cares when they see me distraught, who is kind, has patience, has emotional intelligence, and can say "We'll figure this out together" and it be the truth.

I deserve it, and I want it for myself so badly. Universe, please let me have that.

[tharros-auris-black-asimi]

Cruel Summer (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Female Reader

Summary: It's a normal day for Alpha Steven Grant Rogers.

Well, if you don't count the fact that his childhood friend and best pal James Buchanan Barnes is currently on trial for his crimes as the Winter Soldier. Paired with his responsibilities as an Avenger, there's a lot on his plate.

Until he meets you by chance in an elevator.

You're just trying to figure this new world out after being frozen for forty years. You're hoping for a fresh new start. A new normal.

And then you meet Steve.

Life can't get worse... right?

Chapter Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, verbal fights, mentions of war, mutant!reader, allusions to smut towards the end

Additional Notes: Hello everyone! This chapter turned out wayyyy longer than I thought. I hit 8k words, and I was going to add the smut to complete it. But alas, it was 8k words already and I didn't want this chapter to drag on too long, so the smut shall be in the upcoming chapter. Hope that explains everything!

Also, I don't know what's up with Tumblr and its new update, but I couldn't tag almost everyone. So, if I couldn't tag you, I'll try and tag everyone in the next chapter. Sorry for that!

As always, if you'd like to read this chapter on my AO3, you can read it here.

Word Count: 8019

A couple of weeks later…

Helen Cho was in a rush.

The dark-haired, Korean Omega was rushing through the halls of Medical, in a hurry to get to the meeting with the Medical Department.

Unfortunately, Chad, or Big Creep Weirdo as you affectionately nicknamed him— would also be there.

Sadly for her, she was the only one who could tolerate sitting next to him. One time you had sat down next to him, and he had said a crude remark. The next thing everyone knew, he had shouted about being shocked. You had sat there, feigning innocence before you snarked at Chad that maybe if he hadn’t wanted to be shocked, that he should’ve accepted your no and fucked off.

Needless to say, the department never sat the two of you together ever again.

And after Helen had threatened to stab him with a needle of anesthesia, he had taken the obvious hint and shut up around her, too.

Really, you really would have thought that he would’ve left her alone, considering she was Mated. Helen had a frigging Alpha. She was taken off the market!

Just the thought had her scowling all the way into the room.

However, seeing the four Avengers in the conference room made her stop in her tracks.

Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton, and Sam Wilson were all leaning against the wall, looking as if they were all posing for a photoshoot or something. Hurriedly, Helen made her way to her seat, which was sandwiched between you and Big Creep Weirdo.

Completely ignoring the creepo, she turned to her right, where you were sitting. In a hasty tone, she hissed. “What are they doing here?” To which, you shrugged. “Keeping the peace, I guess?” You chewed on your bowl of grapes you had smuggled in from the cafeteria.

Helen was surprised. You were surprisingly in good spirits today. You were dressed in a pair of mint green scrubs today, and you were leaning back into your chair. Utterly satisfied. After your little tryst with Steve a couple of weeks ago, he had driven you home on his motorcycle and had stayed the night. He even told you that he was going to be dropping off some of his clothes at your apartment before he left the following morning, so you could keep them in your nest. That way, his scent would stay with you.

So now, Steve was a normal contender at your apartment, and your place was slowly beginning to smell like him. Slowly, his scent was seeping into every nook and cranny of your apartment.

And that made your Omega a very, very happy woman. She was overjoyed. Thrilled, even. And slowly, you were finding yourself slowly inching towards the okay camp of allowing more and more of Steve in your life.

Although, you didn’t know if you should tell him.

No.

Not yet.

It was too early. What if he fled in horror? What if he never wanted to speak to you ever again? What if he just thought of you as a fling and hadn’t been taking this seriously ever since the beginning?

Those thoughts plagued you as you continued to chomp at your grapes, popping them into your mouth.

Steve was watching you. Dressed in his Stealth Suit, he leaned against the wall, his shield even propped up on his back. His blue eyes were watching as you popped grape after grape into your mouth, even seeing the turquoise color you had painted on your nails. Thanks to the serum, his vision was practically twenty/twenty. He saw the smooth texture on your nails, and he decided he liked it. The color suited you very well.

“Can you stop eating so loud?”

You nearly squished the grape you had been about to pop into your mouth in annoyance. Your temper had flared up. Your Omega was already on guard. She snapped her teeth at this measly excuse of an Alpha, almost as she was saying, you wanna go, bro? Let’s go bitch. I’m ready for you.

In a controlled tone, “I’m not eating loud. I’m chewing with my mouth closed. If it bothers you that much, then just stand at the wall until everyone else gets here.”

“Can you just stop chewing so loud?” Chad repeated as if you were some small child being scolded by an adult that hadn’t heard what they said. You resisted the growing urge to snap your teeth at him.

“I just said I’m chewing with my mouth closed!” You snapped back at him, ready to throw your grape back into your bowl.

“Should we help her?” Sam whispered. “Nah,” replied Clint, “—she’s got it covered.”

As Steve smelt your scent become thicker and your mood got increasingly agitated, your sweet scent of lilies and lavender twisted and turned into something foul. All the while, your scent was protruding into the room, making a Beta cough. Steve even saw another Omega pull up their face mask, in an attempt to keep your scent from making their eyes water.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t make sounds at all!” He heard Chad shouting at you. “Oh, now I’m not allowed to eat in this conference room Chad? Who are you, Tony Stark? Do you own this building? I don’t see your name anywhere Chad!” You retaliated at the burly Alpha.

Sam stifled a laugh. “She’s funny,” snorted the Black Alpha. “Wait till you meet her cousin. They could do a stand-up comedy on Netflix. It could be a Netflix special.” Clint snickered. Natasha hummed her agreement.

Steve however, was not laughing.

He was watching as your hands curled into fists. For a second, he thought, wow, it was getting really warm in here. Was it just him?

But surely, no one had turned the heater on, right? It was in the middle of frigging April! It was spring already! The weather was nice! There was no way someone had decided to crank up the heater.

No fucking way.

… Right?

Natasha immediately grabbed her Alpha’s arm. Without speaking, she motioned to a very angry Hmong Omega who was about to blow her fuse.

“… I’m not even chewing all that loud! What the hell’s your problem? Are you still salty over the fact that I rejected you? Dude, that was over five months ago! You called me a harlot!” You screeched.

“What’s a harlot?”  Clint hissed to his Omega. “He called her a prostitute. Or, as asshole Alphas call it these days, a whore.”  Natasha looked ready to throttle Chad too. Not that Clint blamed her. He hated asshole Alphas. If he could, he would have throttled Chad into next week. He would’ve had a great time doing it too.

Clint was about to stand up, but a look from Natasha silenced him. It left him to glare at the scene unfolding in front of him, even scowling in dismay like a child whose toy had gotten taken away from them.

Most of the Omega’s and Betas had stood up, wanting to be as far away from this escalating debauchery as possible. Steve didn’t blame them.

The increasing temperature was getting to him again.

Again!

Seriously! Did someone crank up the temperature in the room?

By now, you had gotten up from your chair, standing with your arms crossed over your chest as you continued to verbally fight the burly Alpha, bickering back and forth. Then, Chad got up.

Clint suddenly grabbed Natasha’s arm. Steve caught it.

The blond Alpha looked alarmed. Then, Clint leaned over to Natasha, whispering something in her ear. It distinctively sounded like Russian, because Steve didn’t understand a lick of what he had said. Natasha replied back in Russian in a hushed whisper, the two of them going back and forth for a couple of seconds before Natasha shook her head no. Clint however, shook his head yes, much to her dismay.

The mated pair, too busy arguing back and forth, unfortunately, did not see Chad leaning down at you, contentiously shouting in your face, while you literally started glowing.

Wait.

Glowing?

The temperature in the room started to slowly inch up, and it was there that Steve had gotten it.

He got it.

By now, most of the people in the room had gotten out. Someone saw the glowing Omega from the door, which was wide open, and immediately tailgated it outta there, shouting for security.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit—

“Tasha. Tasha! Come on! We need to stop security before they get up here! Sam! C’mon man, let’s go!” Clint shouted. Sam, having understood what the hell was going on, ran out of the room, while Natasha was shouting at Clint.

“No! I’m not leaving! It’s too far to get the thing!” Natasha yelled.

Thing?

Steve watched as you started yelling at Chad, who, for once in his life, did the wise decision and shut up, throwing up his hands in surrender upon seeing you glowing like a yellow lightsaber. However, you paid it no mind whatsoever, still pissed off at this goddamn Alpha who was scrambling backwards, shouting at him about something to do with your right to eat in the building as your rage began to flow out of you. Light spurred and trembled in your hands, coating your body.

Clint dragged out a shouting Natasha down the hall, jogging down so they could get to security before security came.

“Omega! Come on! We need to go!”

Natasha’s head snapped to attention.

She couldn’t ignore something like that, especially when Clint was using his Tone. With a heavy pang in her chest, she gave him a disgruntled groan.

The two took off down the hallway, dashing to the stairs with Sam. It would be quicker.

Meanwhile, Steve had decided.

With no heed nor warning, he immediately tackled you down like a football player catching the football, sending the two of you to the floor.

You screamed.

“Go! Get the hell out of here!” Steve barked at the Alpha. Chad seemed to be on a roll today with his good decisions, cause he ran the hell outta there.

You were still squirming. Still putting up a fight in his insanely tight grip. You clawed and snapped your teeth at him, snarling.

“Let go of me! Let go of me, Captain Rogers!” Your screechy voice made him pause. Even though your light had dimmed down a bit, you were still thrashing around in his arms.

Your Omega was faring much better. She was very determined to hunt down Creep Weirdo Alpha to give him a piece of her mind. But smelling her Alpha’s scent, her temper simmered down a little. She was slowly coming around, while you weren’t.

Steve hadn’t been focused on your light. Considering it was dying down, he deduced that he wouldn’t be going blind anytime soon.

With that in mind, he roughly grabbed at your shoulders, barking out your name.

You continued to fight in his arms. Squirming. Moving. Desperate to try and hunt down that Alpha who wouldn’t allow you to eat in the conference room because apparently, he thought he was fucking Jesus Christ or some shit.

However, in your current position, you could not do that.

Why?

Because you were being fucking pinned down by Steven Grant Rogers.

Who, was very determined to have you stay down. He was a hell of a lot stronger than you. And, despite your affirmed status, you quickly figured out that unless you blinded him for a quick second in order for him to get off of you, you unfortunately did not have many options.

So, that left you clawing at him in desperation. Like an angry cat.

“… Let go of me!” You continued to shout. Pretty sure knowing that your voice was probably being heard down the hall because you were that furious.

Steve was slowly fuming. His Alpha was roaring at the audacity of this Omega, his Omega not obeying his orders. With nothing else left to lose, he bared his head like he was a velociraptor going in for the kill, wrapping his mouth around the inflamed gland on your neck, and sucking on it.

Hard.

A harsh shriek came from you. You probably even sounded like a banshee.

Your Omega, oh your Omega. She had slid into the con camp of hunting down Creep Weirdo and laid down daintily like the little smug bitch that she was, a little pleased rumble came from her.

A small cry, maybe even a whimper came from you as you slowly gathered all of your wits back.

You gasped.

Your scent was slowly coming back to you again. You could smell the lovely scent of lilies and lavender. But, you could also smell something else.

Wood. Black pepper.

Steve.

You couldn’t explain it.

You were having weird flashes of your old self. Not the old you, the one that had been the eldest child of your family back in Laos, frantically keeping your family together because your father was off at war and your first stepmother had been pregnant with her pup.

No.

It was the you had that been stuck in that stupid Hydra lab in Siberia with your cousin and Bucky, whenever you entered your weird trances. You’d get all concentrated on your negative emotions and then after calming down, you couldn’t remember what happened. Over the years, you slowly remembered what you had done whenever you entered one of your episodes.

So this one… you remembered. You remembered this one. You remembered bickering with Chad until your anger had taken over you, and you had started glowing like a freaking beacon. You scarcely remembered Clint, Natasha, and Sam leaving the room, but you remembered…

… oh no.

No.

No.

No. No. No. No. No. No.

“… Don’t call me that anymore,” growled Steve.

It was the first time you had ever heard him growl. Even when he’d pass you by in the rare chances the two of you were in Medical at the same time— you had never ever heard him growl.

Until now.

“W… W-What?” Was all you managed to croak out.

“Don’t call me Captain Rogers anymore. Call me Steve.”

You blinked.

You just blinked up at him. You couldn’t really move anywhere, because freaking Steveo up there was caging you in, like some crazy Alpha.

“Why? Does it bother you, Captain Rogers?” Your sassy remark did not fly past Steve. If anything, it just made him scowl down at you deeper. You let out a soft little whimper that traveled down all the way to his dick. Steve swore when you whimpered that his dick twitched.

He was for certain that had been his dick.

“Don’t,” he warned you. You, being you, had decided to poke at the angry bear a little bit more. “Or what, Captain Rogers? You’ll discipline me?” your clap back had Steve getting even more enraged. “If you don’t stop,” hissed Steve, “I will put you over my knee. And I’d feel really bad for the security guards that have to see me disciplining my Omega.”

Okay.

You should have not been that wet when you heard him say that. You should have not. Truly.

But you felt that gush of slick. Steve must have smelt it too, because his nostrils suddenly flared, and his eyes darkened. Another growl ripped out of his throat. “Omega,” Steve snarled through his teeth.

“Steven,” you snapped back in the same tone. His blazing eyes were still fixated on you. Your body was trembling, your Omega thrown in for a loop as she shrieked at you from her cage, practically yelling at you to shut the fuck up and quit with your attitude. That if you continued, you’d soon find yourself in some deep shit.

For a moment, both of you just stayed in that position, him on top of you as you heatedly glared daggers up at him. If looks could kill, he probably would have been six feet under by now.

Really, it seemed like the two of you were locked in the most intense staring contest. All while your scents were pungent as hell and stinking up the room.

“You’re incorrigible,” hissed Steve.

“Says the little shit,” you bit back at him.

Another hiss came from Steve.

Your Omega was throwing the biggest fit ever, making you have a headache. “Alright alright,” you said with a slight groan as you tried to fight, “—we’ll call a truce for now. Please get off of me. My Omega’s giving me the worst headache ever and I’d like to have her calmed down.”

The heavy weight known as Steve Rogers got off you, and that heavy weight lifted off of you.

You breathed out a sigh of relief, cause Holy Gotham City, he had been freaking heavy.

Slowly getting back up onto your feet, your gripped your head as your Omega slowly stopped throwing her temper tantrum.

“… Shit…” you groaned. Who knew an Omega could be so stressful?

Getting your forebodings all back in order, you slowly regained your senses.

And a look of pure horror overtook your face.

“Did… did I…?” you trailed off, your voice coming out in a horrified whisper.

“Did you what?” Steve repeated.

“Did I glow like Rapunzel from Tangled?” You suddenly burst out.

For a moment, Steve looked utterly helpless and confused.

Who was Rapunzel from Tangled again?

Then, he got it.

Oh, right. The blonde-haired princess whose hair glowed when she sang. From that one movie.

“You were glowing. Not just your hair.” Steve said to you. Still horrified, you desperately made a run for it, to which Steve followed right behind you, shouting your name as you ran down the hall.

You had started to panic.

Which, had made you literally start to glow, just like Rapunzel from Tangled. Except, it wasn’t just your hair that was glowing. Your entire body was glowing, making you appear like an ethereal being. Because you were giving off so much distress, your scent had spread out and started to pollute the room, making it smell so floral. Steve nearly choked and coughed when your scent hit his nose. He felt as if your scent was like a bulldozer that he was heading his way so quickly.

Due to the serum, he managed to catch up with you. Just like before, he had tackled you down to the floor, making you shout.

Several times, Steve tried to call out your name.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Four times.

Until…

“Omega! Look at me!” Steve roared.

Almost immediately, you snapped back. Like a rubber band snapping onto your wrist. Or a Frisbee coming back after being thrown. Or even Percy’s sword Riptide, coming back into his pocket after he had thrown it in the grass in the first Percy Jackson and the Olympians series.

There was no more squirming, no more fidgeting when Steve used that Tone.

His Tone.

The Alpha Voice.

Your Omega stopped thrashing in you. Her Alpha had given her a Command. Why wouldn’t she follow it?

You were looking at him.

You looked so small, so helpless to Steve that he felt bad for you. He could smell your fear. He could smell it all around.

Your eyes were watery, and a lone tear rolled down your face.

“You have to go.”

Never had you sounded so broken in your entire life. This was why you didn’t want to get close to Alphas!

This was why!

“No. I’m not leaving.” Steve’s voice was strong. Full of resolve.

You still squirmed in his grip. “You have to,” you protested. “No I don’t.” he snarled through his teeth, his canines poking through as his tongue licked over them.

Your heart was pounding.

A gust of air smacked you right in the face as Steve picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder.

You made a noise.

“Steve? Steve? Steve! Put me down!” You screeched.

Steve, however, did not listen to your pleas. He continued to trudge down the hallway while carrying you at the same time. Even while you had pounded your fists on his shoulders, he wouldn’t budge!

Not one bit! None!

It infuriated you!

Your shouts of protest followed Steve all the way down the hall until he reached the elevators, and once he smacked the button to go down.

He put you down as you let out a huff. The elevator doors closed with a ding as you brushed yourself off.

“I meant it. You should leave while you still can.”

Your words had Steve whipping his head towards you. “And I meant it when I said I wasn’t leaving.” his clap back made you sigh. Instead of putting up a fight, you smacked the button that was the numbered floor to Medical. You still had to work, after all. You presumed that they would just reschedule the meeting with the entire department at a later date.

“You should, though. It’ll keep you in less danger. And I’d rather not be a burden to you.” you remarked.

Steve’s jaw tightened. Luckily, there were still a couple more floors to go. So, he could say the next thing. “And that’s what you think you are? A burden?” He snapped at you. You didn’t say anything.

Because yes, some part of you did believe that. You still could remember the horrified screams from your younger siblings when you had arrived in the States, whenever you glowed. You glowed like a frigging beacon. And when your other cousin had shown similar symptoms of her mutant ability too— it was as if the world had changed even further. Suddenly it was just you and your cousin against your families. The two weirdos.

And then Hydra had taken the two of you away from your families for so many years. It had taken the two of you so long to reconnect with this new world, this new era. After going to school, there was a small little part of you that still looked behind your shoulder, that secretly looked out at this huge family that had thrived while you had been frozen and kept away.

Your family had moved on.

You hadn’t.

You still looked the same. You still looked as young as you had been when you had been an immigrant, being told to “go back to your country” and being asked if you ate cats and dogs, just like your Chinese neighbor that lived down the street from you, only because the frigging white kids thought the only Asian there could be was Chinese.

Even when you had told your parents that you were moving out of the family home to New York so you could work at Avengers Tower, you still felt like you still needed to look over your shoulder.

Always looking. Never stopping.

The elevator dinged, causing you to snap out of your depressive thoughts.

When Steve’s hand shot out, you quickly blocked it.

“No, Steve.”

He stopped. You turned back to gaze at him. To look into those blue eyes that were desperately searching in yours, to try and possibly rectify the situation, to tell you no. That you weren’t a burden.

And you wanted to believe it.

You wanted to.

You wanted to fool yourself into believing that you still deserved love, even after all the shit Hydra had done to you.

But you couldn’t.

You just couldn’t.

You couldn’t fool yourself into believing that shit again.

Letting go of his hand, Steve had to watch hopelessly as you stepped out of the elevator, walking into the floors of Medical, desperately ignoring the hushed whispers and curious glances that were being sent your way.

Just like the first time that you had stepped out of the elevator that faithful morning, Steve couldn’t help it.

He just knew it.

He was falling for you.

He just wished you were falling with him too.

Later that day…

You were ready to fully just go home and hide yourself in your blankets and watch Netflix.

Never had you ever gotten so many stares that you had since coming to the Avengers Compound.

All day during your shift in Medical, everyone looked at you funny. They sent you weird looks and whispered behind your back as if you simply did not exist.

It made that hole in your heart become bigger. And by the time lunch rolled around, you were ready to just take the rest of the day off and go home so you could watch your crappy Netflix shows.

You were so fucking ready.

… until you saw Steve walking towards you, lunch tray in hand. You watched with a horrified expression on your face as he strolled up good-naturedly before he sat down next to you. His lunch tray was placed on the table with a loud thud.

“I thought I told you to stay away from me.” you hissed at him. “And I thought I told you I wasn’t going to,” was his smooth reply.

This little shit!

“I was being serious,” you snapped at him.

“So was I.”

You watched as he dug into his food, beginning to eat. It led you to look down at your own bowl of food that you had made this morning. Your cucumber salad stared right back up at you as you started to pick it up with your chopsticks, starting to eat.

Both of you ate in silence, even though the cafeteria was loud and full of people today. Your cousin had texted you once lunch started, saying that she was “running an errand.”

Which basically translated to “she was going to see James.”

Good for her. Maybe she’d have better luck in the love department than you.

You had been nearly halfway into your salad before you heard Steve speaking.

“You were one of theirs too, weren’t you? Hydra’s.”

An awkward stretch of silence echoed after that. You nearly cracked your chopsticks because you were gripping them so hard. Your gaze darkened.

“Yeah. Me. Me and my cousin.”

You put down your chopsticks. You even pushed your bowl of cucumber salad away from you a little bit.

There were too many people.

It was too loud.

You couldn’t risk anything.

“I can’t tell you here. It’s too many people. Later, Steve.”

And that was that.

Meanwhile, with your cousin and Bucky…

“I’m here to see James Buchanan Barnes.”

The Alpha guard might have squinted his eyes at the Omega woman who was standing there right in front of him. He noticed she smelled like cinnamon and brown sugar. She smelled sweet like most Omegas did.

But there was something wrong with her pheromones. If he was right about his little hunch, it reminded him of Rogers. Steve Rogers and Barnes over there smelled different. Almost as if they didn’t belong here. Not in this century. Not in this era.

And this chick, she smelled like that too. The Alpha guard deduced it to just some weird magic shit and simply gave your cousin a nod.

She followed him down different hallways, keeping her head straight forward as she ignored the leering comments from the other prisoners that were inside.

Her Omega was disgusted. Disgusted! Appealed even! She bristled at hearing another leery comment being thrown her way as she settled into her cage, glowering. She even hissed at your cousin to rip someone’s throat out.

Sadly, your cousin did not do that. Instead, she followed the guard down to Bucky’s cell.

“Barnes. A woman here to see ya.” Bucky heard the guard bark at him.

He hadn’t known when he had fallen asleep exactly. But he could faintly smell the sweet scent of his girl. It made his Alpha up and alert. That deeper primal part of him was happy that his Omega had come to see him.

She watched as the dark-haired Alpha Supersoldier yawned and stretched, flexing his arms back. She even heard the metal plates on his arm readjust, which made her suck in a breath. She deeply inhaled at the sound.

Sweet lord baby Jesus.

“Twenty minutes, Barnes.” he heard the guard bark.

Twenty minutes?  Bucky thought, clearly bewildered.

That was new.

“Hi,” she said shyly.

“Hi,” Bucky chuckled. He watched as she just ran up to you, gripping his hand. She switched to Russian, in order to keep their conversation private. “Something happened earlier today.”

“What? What happened today?”  He sounded concerned.

“Creep Weirdo Alpha decided to fuck around with my cousin. They got into an argument because apparently, she was ‘eating too loud’.”  She even kindly made air quotes around “eating too loud” to establish her point. Annoyed, your cousin scrunched up her nose in disgust.

“… so after he got her really pissed off, she started glowing and shit. Captain Rogers got everyone out before anything else happened though. From what I heard via gossip from Janice in Accounting, he might’ve also calmed her down too. But that’s just a rumor.” By the end of her speech, your cousin still looked pissed off and annoyed.

All Bucky could do after that was blink in surprise. “So… he knows now,”  he said softly. A small nod was sent his way. He let out a snort. “Knowin’ the punk, he’ll just keep askin’ questions and pesterin’ her for answers. He ain’t one to give up from a fight.”

“And said fight is going to be my cousin’s rights to her precious kitty. Wonderful,”  sarcasm dripped from her voice as Bucky saw her audibly roll her eyes in annoyance.

“Stevie hasn’t gotten game since nineteen-forty-five. But don’t worry— he’s a fast learner.”

She rolled her eyes again. “Yay,”  her voice was dry.

Bucky broke out into snickers.

Leaning her face into the bars, she asked— “Have they decided on a verdict yet?”

Bucky’s face dropped a little. This week, they will,” he said softly. She squeezed his hand in reassurance. “There’s been a switch since Natalia dumped all of the mission reports on the Internet. I heard one person serving on the jury that they’ve never gotten so sick to their stomach before. Another person said that they were gonna stab General Ross with their pen.”

This time, your cousin was the one who snorted.

“Oh yeah. That’ll just go down well. Maybe I can ask Friday if she can replay that the next time Tony hones us in for our annual Compost vs Recyclables reminder.”  She remarked with a slightly annoyed tone in her voice when she brought up the unfortunate Compost vs Recyclables meetings she attended every month.

Like okay sure, she was probably considered in her forties at this point. If she had never been frozen and taken out to do the repairs and keep Sasha company.

But shit, for her older age, she could still point out the goddamn fricking difference in composts and recyclables!

“Speaking of that horrid meeting…”  her phone had dinged with the most earth-crushing news.

It was a message from Tony to everyone in the compound, stating that they were needed for that stupid shit again.

“You gotta go?”  asked Bucky gently. With a designated look on her face, she gave him a solemn nod. “Our paths have crossed but now, I gotta bounce. Wish I could stay longer with you, Sasha.”

She might have blushed and giggled a bit like a teenager when Bucky pressed a kiss to her knuckles. However, she did smile when they touched foreheads. A little sigh, and then that feeling of safety seeped into her bones. Her Omega was practically content.

… until she moved away, stating that she’d attend his verdict later that week.

And just like that, she was leaving.

A little bit later in the afternoon, with you...

“Okay guys,” you heard Tony boom later that day in the mid-afternoon, sitting in the huge auditorium. The dark-haired Alpha held a huge ass pointer stick that reminded you of conducting sticks that your younger niece followed in her Orchestra classes. He was pointing, nay, gesturing to the green bin that said COMPOST and then the blue bin that said RECYCLE on it.

“… I don’t know how many times I gotta tell you this shit…”

Then, the PowerPoint on the projector changed to COMPOST VS RECYCLABLES.

Several groans echoed around the room in dismay. You saw your cousin who sat with the engineering department openly facepalm herself a few rows up from you.

“I can’t believe I gave up doing what I did for lunch for this,” Steve heard your cousin swear under her breath.

If looks could kill, he easily imagined your cousin laser beaming his fellow Avenger all the way down to the floor. Definitely could hit six feet under with no problem.

“I gave up a nail appointment for this,” Steve heard Natasha groan from a couple of rows in front of him. He also heard Clint muttering something along the lines of “I’m taking away Stark’s car keys.”

Which, in his opinion, would be a humorous sight if he ever saw one. He would totally pay to see that happen. But he would never tell Tony that.

Early on, Steve had tuned out Tony’s ramblings about people fucking up the differences between compost and recyclables.

You knew he was sitting next to you.

Of course, you knew he was fucking sitting next to you. The spicy scent of black pepper and the familiar woody smell had penetrated your nose.

And, it also helped to note that he was also taking up the entire seat. His huge beefy form made him look so freaking big in the theater chairs. It was nearly almost comical how huge he was because the theater chairs were so freaking small.

Even without looking at him, you knew what he was doing.

His hand had strayed towards the armrest that the two of you shared, his arm brushing against yours. And then, as if it was just a normal thing— his hand fell into yours. Both of your hands fell together, your fingers lacing over the others.

You were holding hands with Steve.

Steve.

Steve.

Steven Grant Motherfucking Rogers.

Captain America.

Steve.

Oh yeah, this was going to give your Omega a complete and utter meltdown. Not to mention, your siblings would all be having a field day. Even your niece and nephew would be jealous. They loved Captain America. They had all the merch. Cups, blankets, hell— even your nephew had a backpack with Steve all over it. Captain America was his favorite Avenger. Your niece on the other hand, well, she was more inclined to be in the Hulk group. She too wished she could smash things and it be socially acceptable.

Either way, you knew Christmas was gonna be a huge blowout.

You just knew it.

That night in the Avenger’s Compound, with Steve…

Steve had been fully ready to go to your apartment, to go and finish the conversation from earlier today when he heard a knock in his personal, private bedroom. It was a separate wing, really high up in the Avengers Compound. Tony had made sure to install personal necessities, like the rooms being supersoldier proof. And soundproof, considering there was Bruce and the big green guy, and Clint and Natasha. Which Tony dubbed lovingly as “Clintasha” for some weird reason, but everyone just rolled with it.

Tony was just… Tony. There was no simpler explanation than that.

Adjusting his jacket while he looked at himself in the mirror one last time, he moved to unlock and open his door.

What he saw on the other side surprised him.

It was Tony.

Tony looked very terrified, and disheveled. Honestly, if Steve didn’t know any better, he probably would have suggested he go down to Medical or something.

“I saw the security footage. I heard all of the gossips. Get your ass in the conference room right now.”

Which was why he was unfortunately not at your apartment and instead stuck in a conference room, waiting for you and your cousin to arrive.

Approximately about twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Jumping up so fast Steve might have mistaken Tony for a supersoldier or another Enhanced individual himself, Tony skidded to the door and opened it immediately.

On the other side were you, and your cousin looking very annoyed.

“Stark, I gave up watching my annual marathon of Pride and Prejudice with Colin Firth for this,” your cousin snapped in a scathing tone.

“I also gave up our annual marathon watching Pride of Prejudice for this,” you admitted in agreement. You stood next to her, looking as sad as she was.

Steve had no idea what Pride and Prejudice was, but the two of you looked bummed out.

Well… just you, really. Your cousin looked like she was ready to throttle Tony right then and there.

Waving away any mention of Pride and Prejudice, Tony ushered the two Omegas to sit down before he grabbed yet another pointer.

“Friday, please pull up the security footage from this morning. And dim the lights while you’re at it, won’t cha?”

“Yes, Master Stark.” Friday’s disembodied voice echoed around the room. The lights in the room dimmed until it was pitch black, and then the projector started rolling.

The security footage was HD, which was something Tony had personally done himself. If there were to be any culprits sneaking about in the Compound, he wanted to make sure he could see who it was.

So, HD it was.

The footage had been normal. You had walked into the Compound, flanked by Steve. The two of you walked into the Compound together and headed for the elevators.

“Aw, you guys look so cute. Look Tony, he’s whispering something in her ear.” Your cousin teased the Avenger good-naturedly while you shot her the ugliest look you could muster.

Tony just snickered.

Steve however, remained silent.

You and Steve walked into the elevator together with Clint, Natasha, and Sam. Then, Tony had called out, “Friday, speed up to the good part.”

Your cousin raised a curious brow. Quietly speaking in Hmong to you, “You didn’t blind the guy, did you?”

“I should have,” was your only grumbled response.

The security footage was sped up to show Helen and the rest of the Medical Department in the conference room. You were sitting at your chair, just minding your own business as you chewed on your grapes.

Your grip on the armrests of the chair tightened significantly. Steve noticed. How could he not notice? How could he not look?

Like earlier in the huge auditorium, his hand slipped into yours. You gripped his hand tight. So tight, if it weren’t for the fact that he wasn’t a supersoldier, you might’ve broken his hand.

Good thing Steve was a supersoldier honestly. If he still had been small, you probably would have crushed him easily.

The shit hit the fan when freaking Chad got up and started arguing with you. The two of you argued back and forth as you watched your temper slowly rise.

As your argument with Chad continued over the security footage, you started glowing. It looked a little weird on the cameras, almost grainy, considering it was grey. But nonetheless, you had begun to glow. People started to scream and run out of the room as they noticed your glow.

“Next time I need you to scare away any creepos or the stinky ex, I should sing the flower gleam and glow song,” your cousin snickered to you. “Oh definitely,” you nodded in agreement.

After all the people had left, and Steve had shouted at Chad to get the fuck out, he tackled you down to the floor.

“Oh my,” said your cousin. “What a scandal. That looks like it hurt a little.”

Yes.

It definitely had hurt a little bit. After all, it wasn’t every day that you were tackled by a supersoldier.

And then after Steve had gotten off of you and explained what had happened, you bolted down the hall, only for Steve to shout for you. Like in the conference room, he tackled you down again right onto the floor in the middle of the hallway.

“Wow. Two for two. You’re a lucky duck cous,” your cousin remarked. Although, her facial expressions changed, and she scrunched up her nose when she heard you whimper.

“I came here to see you looking badass as shit, not for me to witness the Greatest Sexual Tension since James Spader and Maggie Gyllenhaal from the Secretary.” If possible, your cousin looked like she was gonna call it a night and go to her apartment and officially not come back for a couple of days. Knowing her, she was probably going to hole herself up in her apartment watching

“Shut up,” you hissed. She just stuck her tongue out at you like the mature adult that she was.

Tony raised a significant brow, giving all the eyebrow action as he watched Steve throw you over his shoulder like you were just a mere rag doll. He continued this pose when you started shrieking for Steve to put you down, to no avail. He watched as Steve took you to the elevators, a considerable look on his face.

He whistled lowly. “Capiscle’s not gonna take you over off of him any time soon. If he decides something, he’s gonna get his results no matter what it takes. Hey, did you really punch Adolf Hitler in the face?” Tony inquired of the blond Supersoldier. “No I didn’t Tony,” Steve sighed. “But I would have loved to.”

Tony let out a gasp, as if the words hurt him. “Oh my lanta!” He exclaimed. “Well! Between the four of us, we’ll agree that you did. It paints a very nice image in my head.” the Alpha decided with a solid nod.

“Whatever you say, Tony.” Steve shrugged.

Steve and you were in the elevator, having your discussion. There was no sound— it was just security footage after all. But, Tony noticed your face change as your face dropped at the words you had told Steve echoed in your head at that very moment.

“I meant it. You should leave while you still can.”

“You should, though. It’ll keep you in less danger. And I’d rather not be a burden to you.”

“That’s all Friday. You can stop the security footage.” Tony’s voice rang out. “Yes, Master Stark.” Friday’s voice floated out.

The room was dark for a second before the lights turned back on. The three of you watched as Tony stood up, striding his way to the front of the room.

“Cap. Can you leave the room for a sec?” Tony asked.

“No.”

Tony blinked. “Cap?” He said again. “I said no. I’m staying here,” stated Steve firmly.

Tony let out a sigh as if he had been anticipating this. “Okay,” he said with a shrug.

Then. Tony’s face changed.

“Okay. Seriously. You guys are real, right? You’re a real doctor, right? Right? And you’re a real engineer, right? Right?” he started to panic.

“Yes. Yes we are Tony,” your cousin spoke through her snorts and muffled laughter. “We have our degrees to prove it,” you added helpfully.

“Oh! Good. Okay. Then you guys need to sign these. Please put everything in.” Tony was relieved. He pushed two stacks of paper, the cherry on top being the two pens that were laying on top of the paper.

You and your cousin shared a look before both of you smirked at one another.

Later, Steve dropped you home.

Your cousin bid the two of you adieu after the paper signing and headed off to her apartment.

Leaving Steve to drive you home in his motorcycle.

Even when you were walking up all those damn copious flights of stairs up to your little crib— you could feel the tension. You could feel the energy between you and Steve changing.

For a second, you were nervous. Your Omega was crooning, knowing exactly what was about to go down.

And alright. Fine. She would admit this was quick for her, but who gave a shit! This Alpha smelled nice! This Alpha would protect her! This Alpha was perfect for her!

You just needed to see reason, was all she was concerned about. After you’d see reason, you would understand with her.

So when you reached the door of your apartment, your hand might have lingered on your apartment keys.

Your keys jingled and shook nervously in your hand.

Your tongue darting out to wet your lips, you managed to get your door unlocked. And then you were pushing your door open, followed by Steve who walked in behind you. The door closed and Steve made sure to lock the top and bottom. When he spotted you taking off your shoes at the front near the door, he did the same.

It was only polite, after all. And his Ma taught him to be a gentleman, even when he had been tiny as shit.

Or maybe that was just a forties thing?

Anywho, Steve followed you into your apartment, trekking behind you as you padded your way to your living room. It was nice and cozy. You had a few plants in the space, a pathos plant chilling and living its best life as it coiled against the wall.

“Oh, my baby grew!” You cried out in happiness. Steve blinked. “Is that a plant?” He was surprised. “Oh yes,” you nodded enthusiastically, “—she’s my baby. She’s growing very well. Pathos plants are the easiest to grow because they don’t take all that much work to maintain. And it’s pretty easy for her to have… babies.” you had an awkward smile on your face at the last bit.

“Okay I need to stop referring to my plants as my children,” you hastily muttered under your breath as Steve barked out a laugh. Like a bee following the sweet scent of nectar, he followed you down the hall.

You were still very nervous. At first, you were lowkey kinda beating yourself up about it.

This was Steve.

Steve.

He had been in your apartment many times before. You had always felt safe around him. He made you feel safe. Maybe it had been that deep part of you, your designation as an Omega that craved a companion. An Alpha. Maybe it had been that. There were just some things Hydra couldn’t wipe away, like your designation's deepest needs.

That had been one thing you had been able to keep after Hydra had wrecked your life.

Ironic that another super soldier and the America Virtue of Justice would be the one to make you feel safe again.

But you couldn’t help yourself. Your Omega was happily content as she watched the blond Alpha stride to be closer to her. Steve wanted you. He had made his interest clear. He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon either. And, you weren’t inclined to find another Alpha. Deep in your soul, you knew.

Steve was the right one. He was gonna be it for it.

So why not give it a try? Give it a whirl? It wouldn’t hurt.

Steve came from behind, gently pulling you back so your back would smush right up against his front. It allowed him to breathe in your scent, allowing him to inhale the sweet floral smell up close. He even buried his face into your neck, his tongue darting out to lick at your gland. When you started to whine and whimper against him, grinding your ass against his erection, Steve couldn’t even swallow at the feeling of him getting hard.

Because how could he? How could he, when you smelled this good? When he could smell your slick oozing out of you, trickling down your inner thighs and you suddenly had a very strong urge to kick off your jeans.

The tension in the air was so freaking thick you could cut it. Preferably with a butcher’s knife.

“You wanna move this to your nest?” Steve helpfully suggested.

You couldn’t agree more.

To be continued...

Taglist: @bxnnywriting, @greeneyedblondie44, @hawsx3, @sunflowerfive

Fic Taglist: @openup-yourmind, @captainson-of-coul

[tf2fansderogatory]

welcome to our blog! we just love doing our funny little thing out in this funny little world of ours. this is just the big funny pinned post thing aha

official tf2transderogatory discord server (really really cool. age limit 16+)

rules tags n mod intros under the cut !

request rules (cool)

1. no nsfw whatsoever. I hope this is obvious

2. all ships allowed, save for The Forbidden One. pauling ships r on thin ice

3. we reserve the right to not answer asks if we do not want to. do not bother us about it. we are all very busy

4. and uhh common sense be nice or whatever. keep asks on-topic. play tf2 everyday stay on that grind💪

tags

characters

scout

soldier

pyro

demoman

heavy

engineer

medic

sniper

spy

miss pauling

(other character tags will be added as BUNGUS FUCKING REMEMBERS TO ADD THEM)

mod intros (vbery important:)))))))))))))) )

bungus: howdy I’m bungus. I go by any pronouns and I’m just a funny little guy if I do say so myself. find me @presidentbungus on tumbler and ao3. I am an engy lover and medic lover and demo lover and all those other guys lover too except spy he sucks:))). send me asks about science party(!!!) & swordvan & engiespy and I’ll kiss you I will

modgod: i'm @youngods aka ares/modgod and use he/they pronouns. my major blorbos include spy and soldier, major ships include engiespy. talk to me about any of them and send music headcanons this way.

ghost fish: I'm @ghost-fish-in-a-bowl on tumblr!! I go by she/they pronouns and I love all heavy stuff (send me funny about things about him winkwink). I'm like the artist mod here ig so I'll do funny doodles around here lol.

crabmod: I'm @Nezclaw on Tumblr and anywhere else that counts. biiiiig medic simp. crabmod on the blog. like heavymedic and engiemedic, but platonically. usually the one smacking everyone with a fish and not paying attention to the Discourse™.

ikea: hello hello ! I’m ikea (@welcome-to-ikea), she/they pronouns, and I go by ikea because I keep getting lost in my own brain (/hj). I am constantly thinking about Scout, Spy, Engie, and Medic, but in general I like thinking about the relationships/interactions between the funny gay men ™️

Mick: hello I'm Mick @aprofessionalwithoutstandards (posts from @biracy) and I'm a big time Demo tf2 enthusiast. Swordvan guy for obvious reasons. Deeply committed to the Sniper/Admin bit. I am very funny also. shehim and 18 and etc

nimbus: hey hi i'm nim! (@nimbus-lightest) i use they/he/ae pronouns and uhh i'm the kind of person who's so deep into their brainrot that they like to just imagine characters doing mundane everyday things, so that's what i like to talk about a lot heehoo

mod pissjar: hi lol i forgot to do this anyways i'm radio but you can call me mod pissjar if you want ig. any pronouns are fine. i'm completely and utterly normal about tf2 (lying through my teeth). and my blog is @sniperspissjar

modbot: Peachy 'noon! I'll be tagged as 'modbot' for reasons I never shut up about on the hell hut Discord (which you should join; we totally aren't infected with a brain-eating bungal virus!) I've been around these pals for a tad, and the fandom for much longer, so I'll be staying here forever while I work for my medical license (which [medicine] I also never shut up about). My forte is Sniper, but I'm hopelessly addicted to adding my cents to everybody. I have the tendency to write essays and snippets (minus the pretty colors and endless parentheses), rather than simply agree with any headcanons, so if you're in the mood. . . I'm your printer, prone to prose. I lean less towards heavily romantic ships by nature, but I'll be here for that, too, if you really want it. I go by she/her, but I'll take 'technologically transcendent tyrant' any time of the day. It'll earn you some brownie points <3

lems: heyoooooo! the name i usually go by is lemon or lems, (and also Saphir or frost) but i will also take any kind of word you give me! any pronouns, i gave up figuring what i liked the most. im @m-an-mlems on my main which is very rarely ever tf2 stuff so. beware ooooooo [spooky organ sfx]

mod cb: HI! i'm mark! i use he/him/it, and i'm the host of a system. you can find me at @creaturebarks on tumblr, etc. tf2 owns every braincell of mine. i'm not sure if i have a favorite merc, but i can safely say that my brain is full of many thoughts and i adore them all!!! (cb stands for creaturebarks btw)

[jinmukangwrites]

succumb (1/?)

Note: "?" because I don't know if I'm actually going to continue this. All I know is that I saw this post from Liccy and couldn't stop thinking about it (hopefully you don't mind me leeching a little off of your fantastic hc). I just had to write something or else I wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it. Unless I decide to make more of this, I'll keep this just in Tumblr for now.

Summary: While collecting firewood after a harsh day of traveling, Wild and Hyrule find themselves ambushed and alone, facing a mysterious enemy that wants Hyrule for something Wild doesn't understand... or more specifically: they want Hyrule's blood.

Tws and warnings in tags

-o-o-o-o-

It’s a night filled with the chill of air fresh after rain. The damp grass and twigs lining the ground below the still dripping trees squish below Wild’s boots as he walks, his eyes sharp for anything that could be useful.

Today’s been a rather taxing day on his energy, and he can tell it’s been the same with the others. The constant rain has caused the paths to become slick with mud and the rivers too dangerous to cross. To top it all off, they don’t even know who’s world they are in; making it so that as they journey they don’t even know where they are going.

Wild hates the rain.

But luckily, he’s not assigned with the behemoth task of finding dry firewood alone. Hyrule walks beside him, his pants and tunic blotched with dark colors thanks to the puddle he had fallen into a few minutes before.

The quite literal stumbles here and there put aside… they’ve actually done a decent job at gathering firewood so far. A few hours into their search they both have arms cradling rather hefty loads of dry twigs and branches found in miracle spots hiding under rocks and undergrowth, untouched from the rain.

A cold win stirs, causing Wild to suppress a shiver as he straightens out of picking up another stick to add to his impressive collection. He probably should have worn a warmer tunic while heading out, but Wind was looking miserable in the cold and didn’t look used to this kind of chill, so he had lent his snowquill tunic and didn’t have the heart to take it back as the poor kid sat sniffling in the driest part of camp.

Wild mentally begins to make a list of things he has that could go in a warming soup once they have a fire going. If none of them have colds tomorrow morning, he will eat Legend’s hat.

“We should head back,” Wild calls towards his companion. Behind him, Hyrule straightens up from where he was quite hilariously resembling an old man squatting down to pick up a book they have dropped. His arms are overloaded with wood, and Wild’s sure if he bends any lower he would be struggling to pick up the sticks he will undoubtedly start dropping.

“You think we have enough?” Hyrule asks.

Wild hums and looks at the two armfuls they have gathered. They need enough to last them for dinner and through the night, and a little extra if the fire happens to go out from unpredictable rain storms through the night. It’s not like Wild’s scars would be able to help him tell the oncoming storms; they’ve been none-stop aching since they found themselves in this unfamiliar forest.

After a moment of sizing up their bundles, Wild nods. “Yeah, if we’re smart with it we shouldn’t have to worry.”

Hyrule snorts. “Smart with it? Tell that to the blacksmith. He’s the one that tried to light Vet’s hair on fire.”

“In his defense, Vet kinda deserved it.”

“He accidentally caught Wolfie’s tail on fire.”

Wild snorts. “To be fair, he kinda deserved it too.”

Hyrule gives an unimpressed look to which Wild responds with a grin and as much of a shrug he can manage without dropping anything. The wind brushes past them and through the leaves in the trees, reminding them both that the night is approaching and banter can perhaps wait until they’re warm at a fire.

“C’mon,” Wild says, “we should get going.”

Hyrule’s face splits into a grin and rushes to catch up with Wild as he begins to walk back towards the direction of camp. The sound of mud squelching beneath their boots accompanies his thoughts as they go. He hopes they’ve set up the pots and pans he needs to make dinner like he asked them to. He’d like to get something warm in his belly as soon as possible and it would be so much quicker if the others realized they could maybe help make dinner sometimes.

He’s in the middle of planning out his next moves once they’re back with the others when it happens. It’s achingly familiar too—the way the air seems to turn foul and the shadows of the trees grow within the blink of an eye. Through his travels alone… before he fought and defeated Calamity Ganon… things were hardly ever perfectly okay. Safety was always rare, and things could go sour quicker than what you would expect. Wild quickly trained himself to always be aware of the dangers around him, even if everything seemed happy and safe. It saved his back more times than what he could admit, even if the pressure of anxiety pressing down on his ribs was more constant than a place for him to spend the night.

He could sense everything about to go wrong a moment before it does. He’s not sure what’s made him aware of the change—whether it’s the quieting of crows or the darkening sky—but one thing is for sure, this time he’s not quick enough to stop it.

He sees Hyrule twitch besides him and drop all of the firewood in his arms right into the mud. His hands fly to his neck as Wild drops his load and pulls out his sword. He hears a zip and catches the flash of light just in time to jump out of the way of a flying arrow.

Immediately, Wild is in battle mode. With practiced movements that he doesn’t even think about anymore, his shield is off of his back and on his non-dominant hand just-in-the-nick-of-time to block two more arrows with an equal number of thunks. With rising adrenaline, Wild looks over at Hyrule and what he sees makes his stomach twist. There, just a few strides out of arm's reach, Hyrule stumbles and tugs his hands away from his neck; grasped in his fingers is a small, thin twig with a feather on one end and a metal glint on the other. It isn’t hard to guess what’s exactly going on as Hyrule stumbles again with fluttering eyelids.

This isn’t any old attack from monsters in the forest, Wild concludes as he begins to rush towards his poisoned friend.

This is an ambush.

Just before Wild can reach Hyrule, a form jumps down from the trees between them. Wild has a split-second to recognize the glint of misshapen armor bent to fit a large reptile's body before the Lizalfols is swinging a sharp boomerang right for his throat. Wild steps back and raises his shield before he could be hit, however he has to work hard to suppress a frustrated snarl as he’s forced to widen the distance between himself and the barely standing Hyrule. He can see the other hero struggling to pull out his sword as more figures emerge from the surrounding trees.

“Alright, ugly,” Wild hisses under his breath as he shoves his shield out with calculated power. He needs to finish this quickly before Hyrule gets himself more hurt so he can figure out what poison was used and if the others are okay.

The Lizalfos screeches and stumbles back, waving its weapon wildly. Wild takes its struggle to regain balance as an opportunity to rush forward and swing his sword right for the weak spots of its armor. The monster screams impossibly high with unhuman chords before falling limp on his sword, however Wild doesn’t have time to celebrate before claws dig into his shoulders. Stifling a cry of pain, Wild is forced to let go of his lodged sword to catch his fall on his hands and knees. The well-known shriek of a bokoblin reaches his ears as he throws his weight to the side to dislodge the thing. Luckily, he’s successful, ending up on his back with the perfect position to swing his shield at the exact right moment to hit the bokoblin right in the snout as it tries to jump at him again.

“Champ!” calls a shaky voice. Hyrule.

He doesn’t sound too good.

And judging how there are several more monsters here than what he remembered before ending up on the ground… neither of them will be too good soon if he doesn’t act.

He scrambles to his feet, barely noticing how soaked in rain and mud he is now, and grabs a stick on his way up that he had previously dropped. He swings it like a bat at the next closest bokoblin—mourning his sword and mentally kicking himself for getting it stuck in the corpse of a fucking lizard—but he only manages to slightly stun it for a moment before its running after him with pig-like gurgles quicker than what he can properly lift his shield. However, before the creature can hit him, there's the flash of a friendly blade, cutting the beast down mid-air. Before him stands Hyrule, looking very pale with beads of sweat trailing down from his hairline. Wild’s about to nod his thanks, but two things happen at once that makes everything go completely downhill.

Wild sees Hyrule’s eyes roll up to his skull right before the air is knocked out of him via a viscous swing of a tail to his ankles, resulting in him landing heavily on his back.

Monsters all around him squeal with glee as Wild attempts to catch his breath and struggle to his feet. However, before he can do so, the heavy body of the lizalfos responsible for taking him down lands on his back, expelling any of the air Wild had left in his lungs. For a horrifying second, Wild’s almost afraid his head is about to be removed from his body with the flash of a sharp boomerang.

Shockingly enough, that doesn’t happen. While he feels the blade slide right against his jaw, his skin does not break. With the tug of a clawed hand in his hair, he quickly finds this isn’t a kind of ambush that he’s used to. Most surprise monster attacks stay exactly as it appears to be: an all-out attack with no more intentions than to stab things and scream loudly.

This one however is proving itself to be a little different. They want something, something that they’d keep Wild pinned on the ground with a blade to his throat alive.

Thanks to the hand holding his head up by his hair—sending a rather vicious kink into his neck as he’s still stuck on his stomach—Wild can see Hyrule completely collapsed on the ground with a few monsters hovering over him with excited snorts and grunt.

He can’t believe the two of them have been bested by monsters as low in skill as these.

Something more has to be going on.

And, just as that thought crosses his mind, there’s the sound of booted feet approaching on the soggy ground. The new presence comes behind from where Wild is pinned, so he cannot see them. However, based on the even steps and the whoosh of cloth, he can at least infer that they’re not a monster… or at least something a bit more humanoid.

His suspicions are confirmed once the figure steps into view. They look the build of a Hylian; though below the cloak that covers their face and exposes nothing but the shadow of a pointed chin… they must be a rather tall Hylian.

Which definitely isn’t good. Monsters are one thing—creatures born out of hatred and greed—but a Hylian who’s born as pure as any other human and animal in the world choosing to work with monsters? Deal with wickedness? They’re always the bigger threat. If the Yiga clan alone isn’t proof enough that Hylia’s creations can inhibit more darkness than the lowest of beasts, then Wild would ask what shrine you've been sleeping in.

Not like he could ask that now, not as the cloaked figure steps right past Wild without sparing a single glance. Wild cannot help but feel his stomach twist in fear as the person kneels down by the unmoving and unarmed Hyrule. They place a pale hand on Hyrule’s forehead, making Wild’s skin crawl.

“Get away from him!” Wild snarls, digging his fingers into the mud and attempting to push the heavy lizalfos off from him, but all that does is cause the creature to hiss and tighten the blade.

The cloaked intruder doesn’t respond nor quit in their endeavors of getting too close to Hyrule for Wild’s comfort. In fact, Wild almost thinks they didn’t even hear him.

He’s about to shout out once again—angry with being ignored—but the breath leaving his lungs fall silent as the figure brushes back Hyrule’s hair with a verbal sigh. Then, to Wild’s horror, the figure pulls back to their cloak to bring out a small vial filled with a deep purple liquid.

“What is that?” Wild demands as the lid of the vial is popped off and lowered towards Hyrule’s pale lips. “Don’t you fucking dare-” suddenly the air is squeezed from his body, forcing his protests to cease, as the lizalfos leans more of it’s weight onto his back to press his face down into the mud.

He doesn’t see what happens next, but he can put two and two together when a few silent moments pass before those human footsteps begin to finally head Wild’s way. The clawed hand in his hair loosens ever so slightly as slim fingers slip under his chin. Next thing Wild knows, he’s blinking through dripping eyelashes at the shadowed face of the cloaked figure.

Wild, of course, takes the opportunity to spit a wad of mud at the face of his enemy thanks to his little face-meets-dirt session.

He’s pretty sure he hits his mark, because in a blink of an eye Wild is no longer pinned on the ground, but lifted into the air by his neck. His feet scramble for purchase when there is none as his hands fly to his throat. The pressure on his neck is so intense that he doesn’t think to try and look at the face of his attacker. He can only gulp for trapped air like a fish out of water. Then, just like that, the pressure on his throat is released as he finds himself thrown back into the waiting arms of various monsters. Before Wild can attempt to find his bearings, his wrists are twisted violently behind his back; the motion almost yanks his limbs from their sockets. After a few gasps, it's all Wild can do to stand there with their physical restraints of clawed hands and send a cold glare at the cloaked figure.

The cloaked figure radiates irritation from where they stand, but Wild spares only a moment to bare his teeth at them before glancing back to where he'd last seen Hyrule.

He can’t see Hyrule’s face, but he’s no longer laying prone on the floor. He’s currently sat up with his chin limply touching his chest as a pair of monsters work together to bind his wrists behind his back.

Knowing that villains don’t usually restrain corpses, Wild concludes that Hyrule is still alive and returns his anger at the cloaked figure.

Wild takes a deep breath and speaks through hissing teeth, “who are you?”

“I would watch your tongue, hero,” the figure says, their voice not distinct enough to be dubbed male or female. However, Wild can practically feel the annoyance in their tone traveling down his spine. “We don’t need both of you, and your small friend is not the expendable one.”

The words settle in Wild’s gut like moss covered stones. This really isn’t any normal attack or ambush… this was a targeted mission.

Hyrule is the target.

“What do you want with him?”

The figure chuckles, their shoulders bounce in such an undeniably human way that it makes Wild feel sick to his core. “It never fails to amuse me that none of you seem to truly understand just how much more powerful and important this one is compared to the rest of you.” The cloaked figure walks towards Wild with arms spread wide. “His blood alone is more powerful than any form of magic known to any sorcerer.”

“What are you talking about?” Wild spits, forcing his face to remain cold and angry despite the pool of confusion and fear that’s beginning to swell around those moss stones in his gut.

The figure hums and tilts their covered head. After another moment, they speak with an amused tone, walking slowly towards Wild. “That slate on your belt... you’re the hero from the far future, oh how convenient. Tell me, have you ever wondered why the monsters come back to life?”

Wild doesn’t get a chance to answer before the figure stops right in front of him. He hates that even though he cannot see their face, he can practically taste the smug victory radiating off from them.

“Don’t you wonder why the moon shines red with blood?”

Wild swallows. “What does that have to do with anything?” He looks over where Hyrule is placed. “What does that have to do with him?”

The figure chuckles and leans forward close enough that Wild can almost see an outline of a pointed nose. “Everything.”

Then, with a flick of their hand, something hard smacks against the back of Wild’s skull. The world spins and pain shoots through his head and into every speck of his body. He blinks, and suddenly he’s leaning bonelessly into the grasps of the monsters behind him, the corners of his vision going black.

The last thing he sees is the figure turning back towards Hyrule with a flick of their cloak.

Then, his eyes fall shut and he knows no more.

[veterveter]

YO MANU THIS FINALLY CAME THROUGH I'LL LIKE READ AND DO COMMENTARY AND EDIT THIS LATER BUT I WANTED TO POST IT WHILE I HAD IT!!!!

Bless, tumblr finally working for you.

Anyway, here's the post from @delirious-and-slightly-murderous

So seeing as Tumblr hates me, I'm trying this darling, hope it reaches you.

So just read rat king.

[You should all totally read rat king if you haven't yet, it's fun I promise :) But also read Manu's commentary on it!!]

Tuuli I hope you know I love you and completely adore you and I am in awe of you but right now I HATE YOU. 

You broke me AGAIN. And I was just mending myself.

This was great and beautiful and fantastic and completely awful and the worst thing I've ever seen in my life. 

I'm crying.

So now I'm going to make a habit of coming to scream at you on tumblr every time you post something. 

You already know how I feel about your characterization and Andrés' POV and the angst. So there, it applies here too.

Here we go you awful and magnificent goddess.

“Martín,” Sergio clarified, moving up his glasses, the prescription of which was much too weak for his continuously worsening eyesight, “I think you should stop sleeping with him: Yes, Segio and his judgement. That couldn't not be there. But Andrés and Martín are sleeping together? I know this is going to hurt.

Martín was a constant in his life, something carried over from before. Martín? Martín wasn’t a problem; Martín was the only one thing that was good: at least here he appreciates him. Thank god.

Before, he would have found some entirely healthier way of loving his soulmate. Maybe they would have even had an old-world relationship, eventually. Andrés felt like he might have liked that, once. He knew Martín would have loved it: 😭 I want this for them and it hurts that it's simply not going to happen. I'm afraid of the MCD tag, Tuuliiiiiiiiiiii! Who did you kill, you murderous genius?

Andrés needed Martín, desperately. Too desperately to love him the way he should have: I'm going to die. He could at least try but nooooo, god forbid the day Andrés de Fonollosa makes things simple for anyone.

Andrés could see the way orgasms had loosened some of the tensions that so often gripped his body, and he hoped Sergio could too.😏

 If Andrés had to choose only one, he would have certainly chosen— : repressed asshole. I hope that was going to end with the word Martín. Why are you even getting married? What's even the point. But I see Andrés will continue to be emotionally stunted even when the world is ending.

Martín and Sergio had gotten along well, before. Andrés could remember so many pleasant evenings, just the three of them and a bottle of wine. But ever since they had to move to this base, the tensions had been palpable. They were both desperately trying to keep them alive, but were constantly disagreeing on the how: I'm starting to like Sergio more than Andrés here, how is that possible? How? See what you do Tuuli?

He turned around at the doorway and left the room, because he had no doubts about it: they would listen to him: Andresito, you are being too egocentric, this is not going to end well, for anyone.

Andrés understood just enough to know he was proud.: I don't know how to feel about this Andrés. I can't.

Andrés always tried not to take the slights of this brave new world personally – it was cruel, but they all had to endure loss of unspeakable magnitude – but this? Having to choose between his Martín and his brother?: Oh no, Oh no, NO. This isn't fair. Why do I get the terrible feeling we already know who he's going to choose? Please DON'T do this.

Andrés knew with unwavering certainty that either one of them would be willing to do it, and that they would consider it a great big favour to Andrés, and not the horrifying curse it truly was. He was the one who would have to pay the ultimate price, and live, knowing how much it had cost: Everything always has to be about you, doesn't it Andrés. You fucking deserve it.

Andrés could appreciate such a malleable room, because it reminded him of Martín, who always became what Andrés needed him to be.😡😭💔

Martín had never cared about plants, before. Actually, he seemed to have held a certain disdain for them. He had always said they were stupid and lifeless. Now he was looking at these ones, their lifeline, and he was filled with reverence and sorrow. If Andrés could have given him one thing, he would have liked to return to him his complete disregard for flora, and all the things it had since then come to imply: This hurts, and not only for obvious reasons. But nature? Fuck right in the feels.

Martín was entirely too pretty to look like this. They hadn’t even been having sex, because suddenly Martín looked like his eternally calcium-deficient bones might now break from the strain. Pretty Martín yeah! And you are a genius. Now this is my official headcanon as to why Martín drinks milk, he has fragile bones, the poor baby.

The weird walking corpse at the table smiled, and it almost made him resemble Martín.: He's already halfway dead. The MCD tag is him isn't it? I hate you Tuuli.

Andrés had to remind himself that he was lucky to have this. He may have had so many better things, before, but now he had this, and that was good. They had it better than most, him and Martín, for they had each other. Andrés still had his brother, and now he would have his wife, too. He was lucky: Not for long, buddy. And you deserve it. Poor Sergio I normally hate him but gosh.

“No,” Andrés said without waiting for a single beat, because he couldn’t let Sergio think he considered it. Even though he almost— “No, I don’t. I want you two, both of you, to figure out a way. A different way.”: He loves them both and he accepts it? Why does the world have to be ending.

Andrés tried not to think too much about Martín from before, but sometimes he did anyway. That night, as he wrapped his arms around Martín’s pathetic, weak and shivering frame, he thought about his true soulmate, the one this body had once belonged to.: Now I understand Martín sacrificing himself is the only way. He's already dead. And because of Andrés no less. How tragic.

Andrés had never said it back.

That night, he didn’t say it back.: Now Martín is going to die and it'll be horrible isn't it? Tuuli I want to murder you.

I’m so sorry, Andrés,” Sergio said quietly, slowly reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder.

Andrés recoiled from it, sharply. “No,” he snapped, “No. We are all going to die. Say those words, Sergio. We are all going to die.” He had made his peace with death long ago. There were worse things, many things so much more horrifying—

“We are not all going to die,” Sergio said, “The generator—” His words were cut off by Andrés’s hand on his throat, squeezing.: You are the king of denial, bad decision, being stupid, emotionaly stunned and not appreciating your soulmate enough Andrés. You deserve all the pain.

“He doesn’t deserve that,” Andrés said, his voice breaking again as he thought of it, Martín’s body, his corpse, frozen and preserved like that for as long as they would live. Martín, out there, while Andrés was in here, unable to ever go and give him even a proper burial. He had always been able to give Martín so little, and in death he would fail him yet again: I really have no words for this. But Martín being forever preserved out there and Andrés knowing that and not being able to mourn him. That is genius and it hurts and it's the perfect ending for them.

Andrés had never told him. Not once. How could he be certain that Martín had known? How could he insist that Martín, the brightest of them all, had known, when Andrés had never told him? Martín operated in words – how could Andrés have forced him to read his love in a language he didn’t even speak?: Now you confront your feelings too late, like always you repressed asshole. You deserve all the pain.

God, he wished Martín hadn’t been so bright. That he had been an idiot, dim-witted and slow like the rest of them.

Then the two of them would have let all of humanity perish.: You already murdered me with 'stay a while' and now this. Tuuli I'm coming back as a vengeful ghost and haunting your perfect ass.

So yeah, I don't have words but that's what I could spit out.

And Tuuli, you know the thing I showed you about the spider? Well when I finished reading this I was crying and wailing. My professor came running because he thought it was another spider or something even worse like a serpent.

When he asked what was going on I was in such a state I could only say 'rat' like a dumbass. 

RAT.

Like seriously? And when he asked again I said Rat king fic and pointed vaguely to my phone. 

He thought I was talking about an actual rat.

So imagine this. We are there, at night (in Costa Rica nightfall is around 6:00pm all year round, so now it's 9:00pm and here in the tropical rainforest it gets Dark), camping in the middle of nowhere in the wild with a tropical storm falling over our heads and I start crying about Rats. 

Congratulations Tuuli, you put me in such a state that I managed to send the whole of 9 biologists into a frenzy, frantically checking out the tents over an imaginary giant rat. 

It was literally terror in the jungle. 

I wanted the earth to shallow me. I didn't know how to explain that all that circus was because of a fucking fic.

I think now I no longer have satelital internet rights.

I hate you.

(P.S: But don't worry I still absolutely adore you, even if now I am the laughing stock of my fellows 🥰😘♥️)

Here have my friend the spider to show how I'm feeling.

[clothing-references]

Update, Hello Persons

I do realize that I am taking forever to post. Todaay is January 12th, 2020. I am posting my own thoughts on what is going on right now.

The admin of this blog is 23 years old. This blog is kinda like my personal blog pt 2. I try to keep up with tags to indicate what i'll be talking abt so you don't have to read through anything potentially scary or worrying about the world we live in.

Please do not force yourself to read past this point if you do not want to hear my thoughts so far. Also, please refrain from sending anons telling me you here for only clothes when i do tumblr for free and also for me.

ANYWAYS

Guys, what the hell, why does January always feel like its own year? Why does so much always seem to happen around this time.

My birthday came and went. I had cake and relaxed!! New Years Eve was filled with me looking like a cute little paper dude from the old 20's and being avoe to enjoy it with people I kinda like being around. It was lovely.

Of course, bad shit happens to. I'm not gonna focus too heavily on what's happening with the current peach man pres, but please do remember that this guy is doing the exact same thing that Bush Jr. did closer to the end of his first term so that people would vote for him a second time out of fear.

Moving on.

Some... Very serious things have happened in my life as of late. As or very fucking late. I am scared but I know that I will be okay because I can figure out how to survive this stuff like someone who is actually learning how to be an adult.

It's been 23 years of my existence, guys. I've gone through a lot of things. I've seen a lot of people. My struggles aren't as bad as they are for some others, but... None of this is very easy either.

Basically, I am gonna be okay. I'm freaking out from time to time because I have recently gone through a very traumatic experience, as I am not allowed to have a normal family. And you know what, fuck some of them. You can't help someone who doesn't want your help but you can always focus more on yourself because you're fucking worth it and living through that shit means you're tough as fucking nails.

I have... A lot of things to think about. People to re-examine... How will this all affect my work? How it is going to affect my personal life and the lives of others? I am worried about that. And a lot of other things, too.

But you know what, I've made it this far.

So I have to keep trying.

2020 kinda feels like that year finally came around where it was ready to beat my ass but then i spit out blood and call 2020 an amateur or something reference shenxomix

Jokes aside, I am in a really difficult situation right now. I'm not asking for donations, I am not saying this to worry any of you... I just want y'all to know that I have a lot of shit to do this year and this very recent life event just fucking flung me into a speedrunning challenge for some of those important adult tasks. I am okay but I am tired as hell and I need to make sure I'm okay. So I'm sorry that I keep disappearing but eventually we'll have at least queued posts set up for this blog and that'll mean I am slowly returning.

Thank you all for just generally liking my blog, guys. I think ur all pretty dang neat yourselves.

I have to go now but please take care. I do promise I am okay and I will eventually return.

Stay Safe.