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bestworstcase · 6 months

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I have a question about some of your Salem thoughts

If Salem is 110% certain that she can take down the Gods (assuming that's her goal since we don't actually know), why wouldn't she communicate her plan to Oz? Especially if she truly doesn't want anyone to die like you say. Oz would jump at the bit if Salem said "Hey I want to stop fighting" since that would mean their shadow war would stop. I really don't think Oz likes the Gods either, and even if he's afraid of them, if *Salem* is that confident she can stop them (she's far from an idiot), I'm sure he'd at least hear her out (which would tell Salem a LOT).

If she's that confident and truly doesn't want to fight, why wouldn't she tell Oz her new plan? And why would she kickstart her plan by attacking the kingdoms/Academies? Surely she could find a way to steal the Relics without flat out attacking them (like sending in double agents to take the Maiden powers)? Like... she would've known she'd get people killed, including children and innocent people. Even if she did damage control (which I think is just strategic, why bother going after people if she's focusing on the Relics? She's not gonna waste precious time and resources), she surely knew people would get caught in the crossfire.

Don't get me wrong, I like what you bring to the table!! Your posts are thought provoking and unique. But I can't see Salem being somehow secretly good. I don't think the show is setting her up that way, and I think she's a fantastic villain, so from my own perspective, doing that kind of twist would be a disservice to her character. I don't think she's inhuman or a complete and total monster who should go, but she's definitely not a good person especially if she can't communicate that she supposedly doesn't want people dead. She seems to be an "the ends justify the means" kind of person, and the show I think has stated that that isn't a good mindset i.e. Ironwood.

Sorry, I rambled and completely strayed from my point 😅 I don't mean to be mean if I come across that way. I hope my ask is interesting or thought provoking though :P

my position is that salem is right, not that she’s secretly good—that is an important distinction. i think she sees the gods clearly for what they are, thinks the divine ultimatum repulsive and unjust, wants remnant to be free, and believes that humanity is transcendent over their creators; she also, quite plainly, does not have any compunction about doing whatever it takes to achieve her ends and while i do think she is still fully capable of and driven by love, she is so TERRIFIED of being hurt again and so CERTAIN that no one could ever care for her that when she does care for someone else it comes out in very, very twisted and often cruel ways. she’s not good, she’s not nice, she’s just right.

equally the heroes are good but not right, because they have yet to really grapple with the premise of the divine mandate (that humanity as it exists right now does not deserve to exist) or their own role in upholding it (their immediate goal is survival, but when they envision the ending of this war they imagine salem driven back and the relics squirreled away again in hope of at best everlasting stalemate). the point of structuring the narrative this way is that neither side can get to the proverbial good ending alone; they need to work together, salem’s ends with the heroes’ means.

like. she’s evil. lol. that’s not in question and i think it goes without saying that she is doing evil things so i don’t feel the need to make a “but she’s still evil though” disclaimer every time i try to tease out what’s going on in her head. notice how my reaction to salem razing vale was OH GLINDA LAYS SIEGE TO THE EMERALD CITY, WE’RE REALLY IN IT NOW and not, like, shock or dismay that salem would do such a terrible thing. brgdfjs

(i DO think she has mostly been trying to avoid ozma and not reciprocating the shadow crusade against her prior to about fourteen years ago and that she isn’t about wanton destruction or killing for the sake of it; and in that sense i think she’s not as bad as the general fanon reading. but that comes with the territory of thinking she has actual reasons for doing what she does as opposed to being, like, a genocidal lunatic.)

anyway. to your questions. the short answer is she’s just as scared of oz as he is of her.

“but he’s the good one!”—think about this from her perspective for a minute. set aside your opinion of her and oz, presuppose for the moment that i’m correct on her motivations, and consider what everything ozma’s done in the last few thousand years looks like to her.

she knows that the gods were monsters. she witnessed them slaughtering the whole world and she saw how little it mattered to them after. she was alone for millions of years, and then hated and feared for thousands of years because she didn’t look human. all that suffering because the gods are punishing her for praying to them. yes?

then ozma returns to her, somehow. he doesn’t explain how or why—maybe he tells her he just doesn’t know—but that’s alright. what matters is that he’s here. he asks what happened to her, and she tells him the truth: the gods ended the world. cursed her. killed everyone. she was alone for so long. (maybe not the whole truth: there are things she’s afraid to say, because the gods did it all to punish her, and it’s her fault, and she’s so scared that he’d despise her if he knew everything. the only reason for her to fear ozma would reject her is if she blamed herself. you don’t hide things out of shame if you don’t feel ashamed of them.)

they learn each other again. fall in love all over again. things are finally okay. they fix up her house. they’re happy together. one day ozma tells her that he’s worried about how divided people are. she wants so badly to make him happy; she would move mountains for him. salem herself has no interest in ruling over people as a god—if she did, she wouldn’t have been living alone in a rotting shack in the middle of nowhere—all that enthusiasm is for him. to support what he wants.

they build a following, found a prosperous kingdom, start a family. four children! how long do you think they were married—ten years? twenty? and the whole time, the whole time, ozma was keeping these secrets from her. that the god of light, who’d condemned her to eternal suffering for praying to his brother, who’d shown utter indifference to the deaths of millions, had sent him back to redeem humanity FROM HER SINS, from what SALEM did. that the point of all this is cleansing humankind of her defiance and inviting THAT MONSTER to remnant to judge whether this world deserved to be subjugated under the brothers’ tyranny again or else be put to death.

imagine how she must have felt when ozma finally told her the truth, knowing that the first thing she told him was that the gods ended the last one. imagine the sickening realization that their whole marriage is built on a lie, because she would never, ever, ever have agreed to help him unite the world if she had known what he sought to unite them for, and ozma knew she never would. that he deceived her! manipulated her into serving the will of a god she knows to be a monster!

and even then—even to the very end—she loved him enough to try. she was willing to forgive all of that and figure out a way to move past it together, and the only thing she asked was that he walk away from his task of submitting this world to the judgment of THAT MONSTER. and he wouldn’t do it.

there’s a gap we don’t get to see, in between ozma backing away from her and salem catching him leaving with the girls, but we can infer that ozma walked out of that room and salem didn’t. imagine how she felt. ten years, twenty years, however long it was, and he was lying to her through it all, and he left her with hardly a moment’s hesitation when she refused to help him enact THAT MONSTER’S retribution against herself. because that is, ultimately, what this is all about; humanity is found guilty by association with her.

imagine how she felt. used. worthless. duped. like a fool for ever trusting him. did he ever love her at all, or was that a lie, too?

when she caught him in the hallway later that night, they both attack each other in the same instant. ozma remembers her attacking him first, but their volleys meet in perfect symmetry and right before salem throws her first bolt of magic, her eyes flicker down in surprise as she tracks the motion of his staff (which we see in the previous shot)—salem remembers him attacking her first.

because they were both so tense and scared and angry at each other that they snapped in exactly the same moment.

their battle is so intense they blow up the castle, and when the smoke clears, salem is a pile of ash. ash! he incinerated her! imagine how enraged you have to be to burn someone to ash. that level of fury, of absolute hatred of her, is literally burnt into her memory as the last thing he did to her before she managed to kill him, inextricably twisted around the guilt and unbearable grief she feels for her children.

he’s dedicated all but a handful of his lives since then to getting rid of her. finding a way to destroy her. (how far is he willing to go? what would happen if salem tried to move on, find community and solace somewhere far away from him? would he come after her? would he follow his god’s example and go after the people she cared about to punish her? is she willing to risk that he might?)

do you think salem understands why ozma did any of this? she doesn’t. she doesn’t get the luxury we do of jinn narrating his side of the story and showing us the anguish he felt, wanting so desperately to be with salem but eaten alive by terror of dooming the world for his happiness. she doesn’t know.

all she knows is how he treated her: the secrets, the deception, the manipulation, the immediate and absolute rejection when she told him no, the explosively violent anger at the end, then centuries upon centuries systematically erasing her from history and enforcing her exile whilst searching for the relics he needs to summon his god for the final judgment. which she knows will inevitably end in the annihilation of the whole world and yet more torture for her with no hope of reprieve, because if all of this was not enough to satisfy the god of light’s grudge against her for, again, just praying to his brother, nothing ever will.

salem feels about ozma now the way blake felt about adam. why did he lie to her, why did he use her, why does he keep coming back, why won’t he just LEAVE HER ALONE, hasn’t she suffered enough, hasn’t she been punished enough, when will it be enough—and intertwined with that, she is being EATEN ALIVE by the conviction that no one could ever truly care about her or feel for her or want to help her or think that she deserves help or even just see her as a person, because if ozma—ozma, the one who saved her from her father’s tower, who knew her and loved her before all of this happened—if ozma thought her so worthless that he would rather serve a god who ended the last world and promises to condemn this one too than suffer her to exist at all in this world, why the fuck would anyone else be any different?

thousands of years later, she still flies off the handle when anyone lies to her. (except cinder. but cinder is always the exception, to every rule.) there’s a reason she recruits the kind of people she does—desperate, broken, angry people starving for something she can promise to give them if they make themselves useful to her—and it’s because she does not believe that she can get anything better than strictly transactional relationships with people who have literally nothing and nowhere else to turn. and when she actually cares about someone? she fights herself tooth and claw over it because she desperately doesn’t want to open herself up to more heartbreak. look at how erratic and cruel she is with cinder.

it’s not rational. salem is smart and very, very tactically shrewd but she is making all of her plans and all of her choices from the assumption that she is and will always be alone in this, because she is unlovable, because she is worthless, because she is the reason this world is damned. and she’s terrified of ozma because to her everything he does suggests that his conviction and dedication to the god of light has never wavered. she cannot see his doubt. she cannot see his misery. she cannot see how much he misses her and desperately wants to make amends. all she can see is that he’s zealously guarding the relics and spreading his god’s word and training children to fight and die in the name of keeping her exiled.

why doesn’t ozma just go to her and tell her he wants to make amends? because he’s terrified she’ll never forgive him and terrified that he’ll damn the world to annihilation if he follows his heart. they’re the same. they’re exactly the same.

but this is also what makes it so possible—even easy—for salem to undergo a villain-to-hero arc, because the only thing that needs to happen is a spark of real hope. that someone, anyone, could really care about her. like. the things she says in her soliloquies about the transformative power of hope? “even the smallest spark of hope is enough to ignite change,” and “it’s true that a simple spark can ignite hope, breathe fire into the hearts of the weary…”—that’s her. one small reason to hope. that is all she needs to change.

she doesn’t want to be razing kingdoms to the ground or cutting a bloody path through children to get those relics. she is willing to do it because she truly, genuinely, from the depths of her soul believes that it’s the only way to free herself from the torture she’s been subjected to for millions of years. she’s driven to this by desperation. she won’t keep doing it if she’s given a reason to feel less desperate.

but she does need to be given a reason, first. she’s hemorrhaging. this is why the winnowing of her inner circle and the split between everyone else in vacuo versus salem + cinder + summer in vale is important; Those Two are the ones she cares about—technically we don’t know for sure regarding summer yet, but the level of trust she has for the lieutenant holding beacon is suggestive—and that being reciprocated is what ignites her hope.

#she IS a fantastic villain #but what makes her so compelling as a villain is all the contradiction and tension in her character #how deeply she loves vs her deep conviction of being unlovable. not wanting to hurt people vs believing it’s the only way to free herself.#everything she does is so intensely personal and so circumscribed by the fear of rejection #these opposing forces drive change because they are pushing and shoving against each other inside her mind and the moment of culmination #occurs when one triumphs over the other. and then she changes in what i expect will be a startlingly dramatic fashion #(that doubles as writing advice btw if you want to write dynamic character arcs put unreconcilable contradictions in your characters)

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greenplumbboblover · 9 months

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Happy almost new year!

Yesterday I posted that whole "Top 10 Tumblr posts" but while that was fun to see, I figured I'd go through things I felt was a great accomplishment of this year for me. And some new years resolutions ;)

Accomplishments of 2023:

I made a website!

I know it's tiny and that it's not really great (yet) for getting tons of views, but I do want to thank everyone (I actually typed out all the names but tumblr was being stupid and I couldn't post the post then :/) for either giving it a try or using it. Without you, it would've just been a floating idea with no purpose. :) Thank you so much for believing in it!

I created a new sims story!

Gone a bit back to my original Simblr roots and made a story! Chapter 1 had been in my screenshots folder for over 2 years now, but I was just self-conscious about sharing it. I'm glad I actually got to terms that the only way to know if people will like it, is by sharing it. :)

Came back to Tumblr fully again.

Over those 2 years I hadn't really been on Tumblr much. I'd post my mod posts and that was it. Truth be told, I didn't really have much motivation to do TS3 stuff anymore at that time. But I think in the end I forgot how fun it can be :) I know I suck at interacting with people, though my anxiety often gets the best of me, and I'm genuinely sorry about that! I'm hoping to change that next year with some help.

New Year's resolutions:

I know most people probably didn't get through the whole thing because I type a lot, but if you do, hey there :)

Making Simblr.cc feel more personalized

I feel like currently it feels very download-oriented, which I'd like to keep! But that vibe also seems to be around with the more picture - oriented things. So I just want to make part of that feel more Tumblr-ish where it's just your personalized space. :)

Starting to sell stickers (and such)!

I know, kind of clique thing that everyone seems to be doing now and then, but I have seriously been loving to draw a lot. Though, my creative outlet only seems motivated when I do something for someone/something. So I was hoping to not just sell stickers for SImblr.cc as a donation thing, but also to make some of my own. :)

Finishing LISISV

I never intended to make LISISV like those shows that have been around for 20 years and going on. :p I know most of you do, which I love! But I'm not sure if I will be able to, lol.

I was hoping to rewrite the entirety of "Elly" which I did YEARS ago as a wee 14 year old (till I think, like 16?) but that's all basically teenage cringe IMO :p The concept and the characters however I always adored. So who knows!

Figuring out what to do with Interests & Hobbies

I keep promising that I'll finish it "after this mod" and I honestly do open it up, work on it for a little bit but then I start working on a feature and it... just doesn't work with the mod? However, the more I do that, the more 'bland' the mod becomes. So I don't know what do with it anymore 😅 Anyone who knows please help!

Unless you are all okay with remnants of it, which I'm doing currently :)

Making this space mod I have been wanting to do for a while

Not many people know this about me but i'm a huge sci-fi nerd :p And I wondered how hard it would be to make this “colonizing the a planet” space mod in TS3. Though I know that most people probably wouldn't care about that, since TS3 is more about generational things and... not so much about those things. So, who knows.

I guess I just need to sit down with myself and get my shit together, honestly.

Attempting to actually talk to others.

I don't know how people do it... I honestly want to keep tap of everyone I follow but I get so exhausted, if not, my anxiety starts kicking in because "what if I say the wrong things?" It's not just a tumblr thing though, i've been like that since forever, and maybe should just reach out for help for it. I just don't know.

I just feel as of late that people put great effort into commenting on my things and I'm barely there for them. Yet, just know that I am there, that I do think of you, i'm just deleting my sentences over and over again and just giving up. I'm genuinely sorry about that.

Hopefully your year will be nice and may your wishes come true :

#text post #text #long post #new year resolution #greenie rambles

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the-irken-pony · 4 months

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Haven't visited this blog in a long time, finally decided to follow. Anyways, the new Among Us show. Trailer's out. Heard of it? Thoughts?

Yes I have watched it and yes I have thoughts lol

First of, my one main criticism: I don’t think Among Us lends itself well to a thin-lined art style. At least, not as thin as the show uses. While thin line art makes animating easier and is useful for smaller details (such as hands or outfit details, the Among Us art style is already very simple and the thin line art doesn’t look nearly as nice when it’s applied to the whole body. Even just a border along the outside of the characters would be an improvement imo.

Ok now onto the good stuff lol

It looks like we could get some info on what the crewmates and the Skeld in particular actually do and what their mission is, which I love. While finding (or running from) the impostors is the point of the game, there’s a lot of small details that tie the various areas together, such as the loading room/Skeld being present in Mira HQ and Polus. By extension, I notice that a lot of characters’ concepts are drawn from the various tasks in the game, which I also like.

I have no opinion on the VAs since I don’t really recognize any of them and we didn’t get any voice clips in the trailer. Better than all the voices once again going to Big Name VAs, though.

Given that the series is drawing from the various maps for pretty much every aspect in some way or another, that means we should address the elephant in the room (or my personal hiding hole, specifically) of what they’re planning to do with the airship map. The airship map is solely an homage to Henry Stickmin and holds no remnants of the Skeld or any Among Us continuity, so it could easily be just passed over and not appear in the series at all. Alternatively, it could lend itself well to a one-off crossover episode, either being just an AU of both Among Us and THSC, or being a meeting of the Skeld crew and the AU!Toppat Clan (haha AU bc it’s an alternate universe but also it’s… sorry ignore me). Of course this all depends on if PuffballsUnited would even want to, but while I won’t keep my hopes up too high I also wouldn’t discount the possibility.

That brings me to my final concern, which strays from the main topic a bit so I’ll put it below a cut:

With the new series comes the potential for there to be a resurgence of the THSC fandom. On one hand, the THSC fandom is pretty homogenous, and it’s hard to gain traction unless you either work your way into one of two, maybe three circles of people in the fandom, or you happen to fill a specific niche that no one else does. On the other hand, while I didn’t join the fandom right after THSC released, I did catch the tail end of its time having been more popular (particularly the discourse), and that’s a part of the fandom I wouldn’t want to see revived. I won’t say that the fandom as it is now is immune or exempt from displaying toxic behavior or stirring discourse, but it is a lot better than it was around 2021. That said, my autistic ass is probably biased in that regard.

#among us animated series #ask #theshipminer #mine

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moni-harmonia · 4 months

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Chapter IV - Act VI

I'm a bit late for this lol. Honestly, the Dain-Abyss Sibling Chapter came so late in this region, I almost forgot about it. But it's here now, so let's go!

We start the quest taking a request in which we had to find a missing person from Vimara Village in Sumeru. The case is weird because the people there don't even know the guy's name or anything about him. Just that he was a very kind, young man who was there for a while.

We meet with Dain here and he tells us some new important lore.

We talk about the mysterious voice we heard in the other Quest and Dain tells us that he's one of the Five Sinners of Khaenri'ah. He tells us the names of the five of them, two being Rhinedottir and Surtalogi, who is Skirk's master.

Dain also tells us that another one of them, Vedrfolnir, is his older brother. He says these 5 were the cause of everything and he can't forgive them.

We then continue talking about the mysterious Loom of Fate. We need to discover what it is and what it does.

The next day, Dain starts saying that the mysterious guy from the village has started to appear in his memories as well. From that we deduce that someone is implanting false memories.

We go to a dungeon to ensure that the eye of the Field Tiller that Dain was protecting is safe. But then we get separated, and Dain faces...

Unfortunately, that's the last we see of Dain (but he survives, don't worry lol)

We return to the village and discover who the mysterious young man is. He's... Calibert. For some reason he's in human form and an adult too.

We enter what he calls "the realm of his consciousness", where he explains everything.

He was used to construct the Loom of Fate and then he perished, this Calibert is just a remnant created by the Loom of Fate. Apparently it can be used to implant memories, but that's just his primitive form. As it gets stronger it can create Ley Lines, and it has the power to change the world.

Calibert had the power to use it to implant memories, and he did it to create memories, as a "what if he had lived in that village as a normal person".

He then tells us that the Loom of Fate has already been completed, so the Abyss Order managed to take the Eye from Dain. Calibert implanted false memories in order to make him believe he had given the Eye to the Traveler and it was safe.

In the end thought, Calibert doesn't know what the Traveler's sibling is planning with the Loom of Fate, but he completed his goals so he can leave peacefully now.

Before leaving this place though, someone else appears. The Traveler's sibling, although, they can't touch each other.

They explain how they have to act before the Heavenly Principles awaken, but they still don't know how they're going to use the Loom of Fate. We also see a small twist regarding the Traveler's name.

It turns out that Lumine / Aether is the actual name of the Traveler, and the name we input in the beginning is just how they named themselves, probably to hide their identity.

So the only one who knows their true name is their sibling.

Unfortunately, as the space they're in destroys itself, they will forget everything they've talked about there.

As the Traveler wakes up, they go to see one of the villagers, and we discover that Calibert implanted memories to make it seem like he went home with this family.

And he also left us a memento.

("You must get along with each other, the two of you.")

----

Overall, it was a pretty good quest. I honestly prefer when we don't have so much fluff dialogue and we go directly to the plot.

My main critique is that this feels like a Part 2 of the Quest from last year, especially since we're still in Sumeru and we finished the storyline about Calibert. So we should have had this Chapter released earlier.

We got good lore but it doesn't feel like we progressed a lot. It was also disappointed how Dain disappeared for most of the quest and we didn't even see what happened. It just feels rushed.

But I did like it, especially the final part with Calibert and the Abyss Sibling.

For once, I actually liked Aether as the Prince in this scene. Him being a kind, big brother with his soothing voice really sold the scene. Some people say they prefer Lumine as the antagonist, but I disagree.

We're also starting to get closer to the Abyss Order's plans and what happened in Khaenri'ah. I remember that Kaeya had a line about how "the Sinners were all that's left", it's cool how that's relevant now.

Not to mention that one of the Sinner is Dain's brother. I'm guessing that we may meet him in the next Quest, it will be interesting.

And now begins the wait for Natlan. I seriously hope they make something interesting there, I'm just eagered to get to the final regions now. But we're getting closer, next year we'll reach Snezhnaya, it feels unreal.

#Genshin Impact #4.7 update #Chapter 4 #Dainsleif #Traveler #Aether #Lumine #Calibert #mine

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whatislovevavy · 1 year

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WC: 4.4k

Synopsis: An exploration of why Bucky decided to cut his hair

AN: This has been in my Google Drive for about two years and finally got around/had the motivation to finish this. This piece was technically my first ever piece of fanfiction I ever wrote. My writing mostly pertains to Top Gun and Top Gun Maverick so this was a nice little brain break from that. I thought I'd include the original author's note I put together, having never written fanfiction at the time, just for nostalgic sake and if anyone wants to know just how new to this I was lol. Also this divider is not mine and I was unable to tag the account that made it since it was deleted. This work will be posted on my side blog @sophs-writing-nook.

Original Author’s Note: Hello everyone :) This is the first fanfiction I’ve ever written and I really hope you guys like it because I’m a bit nervous about it. I’ve had this idea since I saw the first promotions for the Falcon and Winter Soldier series and didn't really do anything about it for a variety of reasons. I haven’t seen a lot of fics exploring this concept so I decided to write this on a camping trip in my notes app where I didn’t have reception so I apologize if there is bad grammar, spelling errors, etc. If there happens to be a similarity to another fic, it is purely coincidence and I don’t intend to plagiarize anyone. Please let me know if it does appear I have. I have a lot of respect for fanfic writers and don’t want to disrespect anyone and steal anyone’s work unintentionally.

Warnings: Blood, Trauma (PTSD), sadness with some bittersweet moments sprinkled in, supportive Sam because that’s a warning in itself.

None of these characters are mine. Read at your own discretion.

Bucky had tried finding a routine after coming back: Get up by 7, go on a run make breakfast, try to keep in touch with his friends he had made since coming back, try a new recipe, maybe try online dating, catch up on what he missed the past 70 years, try to forgive himself for all the atrocities he didn't have a choice in committing, make dinner, shower, and sleep by 9.

That's what his therapist, Darlene, told him to do at least.

She wanted him to write in a journal the names of the people and families he wanted to make amends with, things he wanted to explore and try out, and good things he remembered before he was the Winter Soldier.

Darlene had kept encouraging him to keep referring to the Winter Soldier as if he were his own separate person, and not affiliated with James Buchanan Barnes.

It helped a bit with passing the blame, but not by much. He, naturally, chose the last remnant of Steve he had- his journal- to hold these thoughts.

Steve saw the best in him when he couldn't.

He made an effort to try and forgive himself for everything he did, for Steve’s sake.

Why Steve had left him, he didn't fully understand.

It didn't make the "forgiving himself" part any easier.

If his lifelong friend, who had been with him through thick and thin, decided to leave him now in this time of his broken, mutilated life, what did that say about him?

Was he wrong about him?

Did he truly believe he was worth being fixed and forgiven?

There were small moments of hope that he could be fixed, but they were few and far inbetween.

His nightmares had gotten worse.

If Darlene would ask, he’d tell her, “no, they haven't", "they've stopped", or "I haven't had one for a while.” Bullshit excuses that anybody who saw the dark circles under his eyes wouldn't believe. Darlene knew he was lying and would try to reassure him that their space was safe and it would help him to get his nightmares out in the open.

He didn't think so.

This woman didn't know what it was like to have the same horrific scenarios play out in his mind every time he went to sleep.

To see himself killing innocent people like he was in the backseat of his mind.

The blood.

Their faces, some close friends and others strangers.

Their pleas and calls for mercy were what always broke him.

He was forced again and again to witness himself taking their lives and couldn't do anything to stop himself. Forced to use any part of himself for Hydra.

Nothing was spared.

He felt unforgivable, these nightmares were a sign of the Winter Soldier still being in his head, buried and ready if Hydra got their hands on him again.

He was tired of fighting and worrying, only wanting lasting peace and a full night's rest.

He had started renting an apartment in downtown Brooklyn near where his family had lived during the 40's. It was near the church cemetery his mother, father and sister, Rebecca, were buried. They were placed in the row closest to the street behind the church his family frequented during his youth.

His parents had passed from old age when he was imprisoned by Hydra.

A small part of him was thankful for that.

They never had to learn that their son had done such horrible things.

They lived with the good memories of him.

His sister had passed during the time half the population was gone, the Blip people called it, from Alzheimer's. He visited her once before, but she was in the late stages, and was a shell of who he remembered growing up.

His little sister Rebecca, whom he protected, opened jars for, teased, and made sure the boys she liked would be good to her, was now unable to remember him. He was told she passed peacefully in her sleep a few months after he disappeared.

Darlene thought that buying an apartment so close to his family's resting place might be overwhelming for him, but he wanted to be close to them and the memories he had.

The apartment consisted of a basic floor plan; kitchen, bathroom with a shower and bath, living room, bedroom, closet. However, he only used the kitchen, bathroom, and living room.

He didn't have many things when he moved in, and didn't feel he needed all the space allotted to him.

He had invested in a modest tv set, a microwave, blender, and a camping mat, courtesy of Sam's encouragement.

He had tried sleeping on a mattress, but he felt that he was going to sink through into the floor with how soft and marshmallow-like it felt. He always slept on the floor with a few blankets and sheets.

Sam had the same experience when he came back from Afghanistan.

Sam had tried to help him adjust to things since coming back, and had done a lot for him, including to help him find his apartment and encourage him to try new things.

There were times he had trouble getting out of his headspace to return Sam's calls and initiate with his friend. Darlene had been saying that for a person who allegedly had no one left, he seemed to have a safety net in Sam. She pushed him to call someone other than her and initiate with him. It was another case where he felt she didn't fully understand how difficult it was for him to build relationships, and "get his nightmares out in the open" since coming back.

He had gotten home late that night from the store, buying ingredients to make a recipe Darlene recommended: chicken tikka masala, he thought she called it.

He was amazed at the amount of change he had missed, especially from a grocery store. His family would boil everything with what minimal spices were available, other than the usual salt and pepper. He found solace in trying new recipes and exposing himself to the technological wonders of the 21st century, including learning how to use a DVD player and the iPhone he recently bought. He tried online dating but found it was too overwhelming and made him feel like a fish out of water. Asking people on dates and seeking relationships came easily to him when he was younger before the war, but everything felt so different now.

He felt so different and foreign to himself. His arm. His mind. He felt like a shell of the person he was before the Winter Soldier.

His groceries were unloaded into the fridge and he started to prepare his dinner. He placed a bowl on the counter for mixing chicken marinade and marinating the soon to be cooked slices of chicken. The chicken slices were placed into a pan on a low heat to begin cooking. They wouldn't take long since they only had to cook halfway through initially. He gathered the spices for the marinade.

The soft smells of turmeric, ginger, cumin, and garam masala reminded him of the evenings he spent helping his mother cook during the summer. His mother would rummage together some cash every once in a while to buy a few sachets of spices from the local grocery. It was an indulgence she took part in that, compared to now, seemed simple and less of an everyday luxury.

Sure, the spices she would bring home were more mild and less "exotic" than what he had available to him now, but it was the familiar memory of being taught to cook and the soft smells of his mother's cooking.

His conscience told him to use the spices sparingly despite himself being confronted with a substantially sized grocery aisle complete with spices from almost every corner of the world a mere few hours ago.

Maybe it was his upbringing during the Great Depression and watching his parents worry about where the next paycheck would come from.

Or maybe it was his instinct telling him this small semblance of peace he had found in his Brooklyn apartment would be snatched away, and that he needed to savor every new experience in stride.

Because if he let himself enjoy them too much, it would make the snatching that much more painful.

He couldn't decide.

He finished the marinade and would have to wait an hour or two to start the sauce and cook the chicken. He placed it in the fridge and made his way to the bathroom for a shower.

The warm water felt nice on his warped, scarred flesh around his arm on his left side. The area would often become sore and plagued by knots. Sam recommended warm showers, aloe vera, a massage and spa place nearby, and Advil. The thought of people he didn't know touching his scarred flesh made him feel nervous, so the rest of his suggestions were his go to.

His scar tissue and long hair were the last physical mark of Hydra on him.

He was thankful he didn't have to see the red star that had branded him for so many years when he looked in the mirror anymore, since leaving Wakanda.

But there was still his hair.

His hair that had blood, dirt and grime stained into it for his 70 years of service. No matter how many times he showered, he knew the blood would never leave his hair or his hands. His mind would drift through waves of hopelessness in quiet moments like these more often than not.

He dried himself off with a soft towel, changed into a pair of boxers, and began to gingerly apply aloe vera to the junction where his arm met his shoulder. His shoulder was still a bit sensitive after all these years despite the enhanced healing from the serum. Shuri theorized it was because the metal cavity of his arm continuously tore through the underlying tissue. She was able to remove the bits and pieces of metal embedded in his shoulder. His arm was in the healing process, but it would take a while after years of damage even with the serum. After he finished rubbing in the aloe vera, He put on a dark t-shirt and made his way back into the kitchen to finish the sauce.

He carefully prepared the onions, garlic, and spices for the sauce the way his mother taught him to.

He couldn't help but think about how his parents and sister would have loved to have tried this recipe with him.

He could almost hear his mother's voice in his head telling him to "cut the onions a bit smaller" or "don't let the garlic and onions burn in the pan".

Rebecca's eagerness to try the sauce prematurely with a perfected pout and whines of protest when denied so.

His father's quiet yet strong presence at the kitchen table reading the daily paper and soft scolding of his sister.

Steve drawing in his journal at the dinner table on evenings when Sarah Rogers would be working late at the hospital.

The radio softly playing in the background as a soothing ambiance.

The kitchen window opened to let the aroma of the Barnes’ family dinner wander through the back alley of the apartment building, and let in the sounds of the neighbors' soft conversations, clothes oscillating in the wind on the clothes line, and car engines humming as people made their way home at dusk.

All qualities of his family's evening routine and upbringing he longed for, but took for granted in his youth.

The stark smell of overcooked onions brought him back to the task at hand, pulling him from his thoughts but leaving his buildup of emotions he felt were about to rupture. He added the heavy cream, spices, brown sugar, and let them stir with the marinated onions and garlic. He felt tears start to form in his eyes. Letting the sauce thicken, he turned the pan onto a low heat, and added the marinated chicken to finish cooking.

He placed the spatula down on the counter top with a shaky hand, placing his hands on the counter to support himself as he let out a shaky breath, blinking away tears that formed in the corners of his eyes.

God, he wished they were here with him. Steve. His mom. His dad. Rebecca.

He wished he had somebody who knew him before the Winter Soldier that could help him to pick up the broken pieces of himself and to become the person he was again.

He wished he could have said goodbye to his parents, Rebecca, and that Steve hadn't left him.

He wished he could've held his parents one last time before they passed, met the man that Rebecca fell in love with and had a family with, and fought harder for Steve to stay with him and help pick up the pieces.

All things that he couldn't do anything about now.

He wiped his tears away and returned to stirring his chicken masala. Thoughts of his family blending with the thoughts of his recipe like the spices and heavy cream in his pan as a cope. Darlene had mentioned that the recipe goes best with garlic buttered rice or naan, so he had bought ingredients for both, but opted for the naan. He turned on the oven, placed some naan from the store on a baking sheet, and into the oven before returning to stirring the contents of the pan.

He remembered Sam wanted to come over and check in on how he was settling into his apartment, sometime the next day. Maybe he would want to try some of his dish.

"Initiate, take small steps to initiate". This counted as initiating, right? He hoped so.

His chicken masala was well blended and deemed done. His naan close behind. He placed a bowl and plate on the counter, served up his recipe and naan, and sat down at his two person dinner table, and prepared to eat. Darlene had told him that making a makeshift taco with the naan tasted good if he opted to not make the garlic butter rice. He took his first bite and let himself experience each incredible flavor.

He would definitely be making this recipe again.

Maybe he could make a batch for Sam.

It would be a small way to return the favor.

He made his way through his dinner, and would start heading to bed soon. It was almost 9 anyway. Shuri told him that consistent good sleep would also help him heal mentally along with his therapy and the treatment she provided.

He made a mental note to try making the garlic butter rice, thank Darlene for the recipe, and ask her if she had any more favorite recipes he should try during his next session.

He brought his dishes to the sink, moved to the bathroom to brush his teeth, and shed himself of his shirt. Sleeping shirtless was normal for him both during the war and after getting the serum, finding that he would warm up easily and end up tossing and turning in the night.

His escalated body heat helped him to survive the frigid Siberian winters during his imprisonment, but not the mild to warm summer nights in Brooklyn.

Laying on the hardwood floor with the lights out left him with his thoughts. He remembered the nights he and Steve spent laying on couch cushions on the living room floor of his parents apartment.

The nights he and his sister would read The Hobbit under the covers of his bed when they were younger, while their parents thought they were sleeping.

He liked to sleep with the TV on at a low volume and the window opened so he wouldn't be lost in his thoughts for too long.

He didn't have as much trouble falling asleep as before. Darlene told him to take deep breaths while resting his eyes and had gotten better at it since seeing her.

Breathe in for 5 seconds, exhale for 10, and repeat till he felt calm enough to drift to sleep.

He steadily awoke hours later, feeling warm and groggy.

It was quiet.

The TV was off and the window was shut.

He was none the wiser in his hindered state of being as he lifted himself off of the floor and trudged to the bathroom, the soft sound of his bare feet pattering on the wood floor like rain drops on a window, encompassing his apartment in a soft echo.

He turned on the soft bathroom light and twisted the cold faucet on, leaned down and scooped cold water in his hand, and poured it on his face. Supporting himself by his forearms, he closed his eyes and relished in the feeling of cold on his face and cascading down his neck.

The water felt warmer now and had a distinct iron smell to it.

He opened his eyes and was met with his hands drenched in blood. Blood flowing into the sink from the tap.

He slowly turned to meet his reflection. Met with the cold, dark, blank eyes of the Winter Soldier. The blood stained leather vest, black muzzle, and the long brunette hair stained black from blood falling over his face.

He was there with him, as clear as day.

He felt a stark and deep rooted sense of fear awaken and burrow itself in his chest as he quickly retreated from the sink, pressing himself against the opposing wall. Eyes wide and breathing heavy, he felt the walls of the bathroom constricting him.

The Winter Soldier reached out his metal arm, severing the separation between the mirror and his bathroom, and brought it down onto the counter top with a resounding crack, small remnants of the cheap countertop tumbling to the floor. He lunged for the door and twisted the knob but it wouldn't budge. Desperately, he tried to break down the door, knuckles bleeding and eyes teary. He could feel the Winter Soldier getting closer to him and was too terrified to turn back and face him. He broke through the door with a splitting crack, splinters in his hands. Awaiting on the other side was a long dimly lit corridor lined with bars and cold concrete walls.

His heart stopped.

He knew this corridor.

He would always know this corridor.

He didn't want to go forward, but he had no choice. Breaking into a sprint, not looking back and praying he didn't trip over himself, he felt a sudden, strong grip on his leg, pulling him backwards. Landing on the hard concrete with a groan and turning himself to face his captor: Two dark, army clad figures awaited him. He shuffled away from them as fast as he could but couldn't get to his feet fast enough to avoid being dragged to by his feet towards the bathroom. His screams echoing off the walls, and hands burning from friction against the cement floor at his attempts to escape their grasp.

He couldn't believe what was happening, he thought he was free from Hydra.

Free from these corridors.

Free from the chair.

He felt his nails fruitlessly catching on the small ridges of the cement floor as he was mercilessly dragged. The hallway enclosed in darkness behind him and the bathroom light ahead of him, serving as a beacon of pain and suffering.

He was left on the bathroom floor, shaking and crying, accentuated by the sound of the slamming of a steel door. His teary eyes searched for the figures but found none. Instead, his eyes landed on the dull gleam of the worn metal frame in his bathtub, tinged with small droplets of blood, smoothed down edges, and strained leather straps.

If he wasn't sobbing before, he was now. He felt so trapped, his heart beating out of his chest; his lungs made of tin, unable to expand.

His shaking frame was folded on the floor by the bathroom door. A few moments of silence flooded by the drops of his sink tap and his attempts to catch his breath.

Abruptly, a handful of his hair was grabbed, his body dragged to the chair as he let out seethes of pain and cries.

He was held down in the chair as he was strapped in by faceless, dark army figures. Soft whispers and murmurs of pleas for mercy and forgiveness settled around him, originating from every vent and faucet in his bathroom, nestled their way to his ears.

They grew louder and droned out the sound of leather going through buckles and the mechanical "wrrrrr" of the head plates assembling towards the top of the chair.

He struggled and screamed, but it was no use.

Trapped in the chair, no chance of escape; Limited by his mind and not his body.

He anxiously waited and dreaded for the excruciating pain of electricity to course through his body, to hear the words Hydra spent so much time and care to drill into his mind.

But both never came.

He awoke with a startle, eyes wide, body and blanket soaked with sweat, lungs gasping for breath.

His window open, letting in his neighbors everyday routine squeeze into his apartment.

The TV on a low volume, playing auctions for nic-nacs and heirlooms people didn't find use for. All drowned out by his racing thoughts and attempts at breathing.

The blanket pooled around his waist as he shifted to lean against the wall, closing his eyes and trying to focus on his breathing.

He needed his hair gone.

Like a wounded animal, he made his way to the bathroom with shaky breaths and uneasy strides. He flipped the bathroom light on, feverishly opening and closing drawers to find what he needed most.

A pair of scissors.

A raspy sigh left his lips as his hands met the plastic frame of the twin bladed tool.

His eyes shifted from his reflection to his hold on the scissors.

Carefully, he brought his metal hand to his hair, extending one of his many locks of hair.

His eyes drifted from the lock of hair to the metal blades that almost fully encased it.

Snip.

He watched as the lock frayed till it was severed completely, feeling the freed lock in his hand and watching it fall to the counter.

A sigh of relief left his lips as tears pricked his eyes as he met his reflection in the mirror.

Snip.

His tears were flowing fully down his cheeks as almost the entirety of his left side was covered in frayed, unevenly cut hair.

He gingerly ran his flesh hand along his head, relishing in the short tufts of hair, and began repeating the same frenzied cutting on the other side of his head, and towards the back

If the tears weren’t flowing before, they were now.

He placed the scissors onto the hair ridden counter with a clang, keeping his relieved gaze on himself, feeling his chest wrack with sobs, body slowly crumbling against the sink and to the floor.

He had never felt such relief in his life.

His hands ran over the chopped hair, savoring the uneven patched of hair, his head laying back to rest against the wood cabinet below his sink, eyes fluttering shut.

Muffled knocks softly rose his mind from the depths of sleep.

He let his eyes adjust to the bathroom light, feeling his neck ache from how he slept against the drawers of the cabinet.

Sam.

He rose up to his feet with a groan, trudging to his front door.

His front door opened with a click.

“Hey, man-woah.”

He rose his eyes to meet Sam’s wide ones, giving him a small smile, “Hi, Sam.”

Sam swallowed.

“Late night hack job, huh?”

He gave Sam a tight-lipped smile, nodding.

Sam’s lip quirked.

“I, um, I made something for you if you’d like to try it.”

Sam watched as he rubbed the back of his neck with his flesh hand.

He moved from the door, leaving it open for Sam to come in.

Sam carefully stepped into his apartment, taking in the rumple of blankets on the livingroom floor.

“It’s chicken tikka masala, my therapist recommended it.”

Sam took the plastic container he held out for him.

“Thanks for this…We should go get you a haircut. You can’t be walking around Brooklyn looking like you had a blender cut your hair.”

His lip quirked, nodding.

After a few minutes, he met him back at the front door in jeans, a t-shirt, and his bomber jacket, and glove.

“Ready to go?”

He wordlessly nodded, closing, and locking the door behind them.

—

“Alright, what do you think?”

The hairdresser adjusted his chair so he could see himself fully in the mirror.

He could feel his eyes glaze over.

His previously poorly chopped locks were no where to be found, replaced by almost buzzed cut hair with a bit of length towards the top. Barely enough for anyone to get a good grip in.

“It’s perfect, thank you Melissa,” he muttered to the woman that gave him a kind smile in return.

He tried to hand the man at the cashier station some cash, but Sam interjected with his card.

He looked at Sam with slight bewilderment.

“You’ll cover me next time.”

His lip quirked, as Sam nudged his shoulder as they made their way to the exit.

He stopped in front of a window for a store on the way back to his apartment, seeing his reflection in the storefront.

And for once, he didn’t have a deeprooted distaste or fear of what he saw.

It almost made him cry.

He needed this.

His long hair gone. The last remnant of his time in Siberia, of the shackles that held his mind down under water like an anchor, gone.

Out of sight. Out of mind.

Sam stopped a few paces ahead of him.

“You wanna stop in?”

Sam’s voice broke him from his trance.

He gave Sam a small smile.

“No, just taking it all in.”

Sam gave him a comforting smile as he caught up with him.

They continued on to his apartment to give Sam some of his chicken tikka masala, running his hand through his hair periodically with a smile on his face.

#bucky barnes #marvel mcu #bucky barnes angst #sam wilson #winter soldier #mcu fanfiction #mcu #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes

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under-wcrlds · 2 years

Text

circus (3)

—pairing; childe x afab!reader (NSFW) !!

Ajax was dead. Childe had killed him. Suffocated every ounce of him out of that weak, trembling body. He had done everything to eradicate every last remnant from this reality. But when you looked at him, you still saw Ajax. Ajax, that weak, cowardly fool. Childe new he had to destroy him from your memory as well.

—tags; physical implications of abyss childe (inhuman traits), childhood friends, estranged friends to lovers, kinda vanilla, biting, fingering

—warnings; injury, graphic description of blood, biting, unhealthy relationships, abyss childe, possessiveness NSFT- graphic depictions of sex (dry humping, fingering, penetration without protection)

{ Seasoned smut reader, unseasoned smut writer so sorry its bad lol }

part one

Previous Part

Your frantic heartbeat thundered over the soft crackle of the fire that silhouetted Childe’s tall form. There was an eerie smirk of triumph painted on his features. Even so, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. Ever since he’d disappeared all those years ago, the blue eyes that met yours always seemed unfamiliar, as if whatever you’d known in them had died. You would still catch glimpses of it every now and then, but the way they lit up was always during some sort of chaos, and never the same boy you knew. Now though, there was something familiar flickering there if you looked hard enough, hidden deep in the depths of unfamiliar aegean blue. You almost reached for him. As if seeing the hope of recognition in your own gaze, his expression hardened and he broke the moment, turning back to face the glow of the fire. A part of you was relieved. Released from his piercing gaze, the weight on your chest seemed to lift, allowing a brief reprieve as you did your best to gather your frayed thoughts. The Ajax of your memories never came close to terrifying. More often than not he was by your side, as equally terrified. And then everything changed. You had never seen Tonia so frantic―even as a preteen she’d never been easily stressed. Young as you’d all been, you’d recognised the seriousness of it immediately and the dread had settled heavy in the pit of your stomach. So torn up with guilt you’d searched alone well into the night. It was scary how quickly you’d found yourself at the mercy of wolves. Like a cruel joke, it was Ajax and Tonia’s father who’d found you searching for his son. There was a dark part of you that wondered if your rescue had delayed Ajax’s; if you’d never been out there, would it be Ajax, not Childe that had returned from the forest? Almost a decade later, the guilt was still tangible. Even with him standing mere feet away, you still felt you’d lost him; like you’d open your eyes and he’d be gone again, like you’d wake up to Tonia’s tear-stained face at your door again.

You blinked away your own emotion defiantly, forcing your attention back to Childe. The visible side of his face glowed in the firelight. He had retained his youthful good-looks and, despite your familiarity, the sight of him― all sharp jawlines and boyish laughter― still set your heart aflame. While there were parts of him you’d seen―dark parts he hid from his family―that were completely foreign, there were still glimpses of someone you recognised. His hand still fit perfectly in yours and when he’d kissed you; home on leave on that cold winter night in your teens, giddy with liquid courage from stolen fire-water; his lips fit perfectly with yours too.

“What’re you thinking about?” Childe had yet to glance away from the fire, but he had always seemed to have had a sixth sense, as if he was able to hear you lost in thought.

You flushed, heat rising to your cheeks with the irrational thought that he somehow knew what you’d been reminiscing upon. “I…” Any lie died in your throat as your eyes landed on his bare back. Something dark and wet glinted against the light, smeared across the expanse of his pale skin. Old wounds, definitely not from the day's sparring, had reopened to ooze blood so dark it was almost black. “How long have you been bleeding?”

Childe shrugged, nonchalantly for someone sporting a wound that would have brought most men to their knees. But he wasn’t most men, the unsettling inky blood a signal of both his mortality and his fading humanity.

You were grateful for the sudden distraction, pulling him gently onto the couch to tend to him. You’d be lying if you tried to deny the way the mere touch sent shivers up your spine, but you did your best to shove the feeling away. Even facing his back, the intensity was stifling. Sure, you had seen him shirtless before, you had patched him up once or twice; but it felt different this time. It felt intimate.

To Childe’s credit, he didn’t flinch as you stitched him back together, but his breaths, slightly haggard, echoed loudly in your head, grating against your resolve. To keep from losing yourself completely, you focused all attention into cleaning and suturing his wounds. The process was made difficult by the inhuman viscosity of his blood but he never once complained at the prolonged prodding at the tender flesh, even when you had to bite back horror upon discovering his blood was cool to touch.

You almost breathed an audible sigh of relief once you finished, finally able to reach back into your bag for bandages and distract yourself. You could feel Childe shift on the couch beside you, presumably in an attempt to examine your handiwork and you felt heat rise to your cheeks again. This was only intensified when you turned, bandage in hand, to find him facing you. You sucked in a surprised breath, trying in vain to muffle your nerves from him. That same smirk from earlier returned to his features as he watched you realise you needed to shuffle closer to him in order to reach around his torso to bandage him. In one swift movement he reached down, grasping your legs and pulling you towards him, placing your legs either side of his waist and leaving you seated between his thighs. You were faintly aware of the way your free hand had come up to steady yourself and now lay gently on his shoulder, however you were much more focused on how painfully close he was. You forced yourself not to meet his gaze, which you could feel heavy upon you, knowing you’d never be able to escape whatever enchantment his eyes held. His chest still radiated warmth from the firelight despite the fact his hands had felt cold, even through the thick fabric of your uniform.

“You’re always so far.” He grunted, the revelation giving way to a tingling warmth throughout your body. And he was right. Despite working in a fatui camp, where he spent all of his time away from home, you had never felt further from him.

Even as you began to wind the white cloth around his torso, you could still feel Childe watching you like a hawk; attuned to your every small movement, every micro-expression. You had become hyper aware of each time your fingers brushed the skin of his chest, Childe's breath ragged in your ear. A sharp wave of dread hit you as your hands found the end of the cloth, bringing an end to your distraction. You secured the bandage and went about making a show of ensuring it wasn't too tight in an attempt to buy more time, avoiding meeting his eyes. You smoothed the cloth against his chest to prevent stray threads that might catch, fingers dragging along exposed skin as you did so. Childe groaned, catching your hand as you attempted to pull away in surprise. He chuckled at your shock and you felt the low sound reverberate in his chest against your fingertips. His hand found your chin, forcing you to finally meet his stare. The impact of it hit you square in the chest, pushing any remaining air from your lungs.

“You’re shaking.” he cooed gleefully, watching as you drew in a trembling breath. Calloused fingers underneath still beneath your chin, he drew himself up, bearing down upon you with his face mere inches from your own. "I bet you even taste like fear."

His hand moved from your chin to cup the back of your head, pulling you into his kiss. The faint noise of your surprise muffled by his lips, chapped dry from the cold. He kissed hard, his hand holding you in place. It was an intensity, a hunger, you'd never experienced before― even when he’d kissed you last― but still you found yourself pliant to his touch, letting him press you back against the soft pillow of the couch. He began to suck eagerly upon the sensitive plush of your lower lip before biting down, hard enough to leave the sharp metallic taste of blood. You gasped at the sharp pain which Childe took as an opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, sucking the blood beneath it greedily. He fisted your hair, tilting your head back to slide his tongue ever deeper. The ferocity of it all was dizzying. He never faltered, his hold on you only tightening. He was consuming you, pressing you ever harder against his toned body, ravenous grip digging into your soft skin so tight that it hurt. Lightheaded, you struggled for breath against his hold. He was so much stronger than you ever could have conceived, your struggle only seeming to incite him. Your head screamed. On the verge of passing out you did the only thing you could, biting down hard on his tongue. He broke the kiss with a laugh, allowing you to suck in a shaky gasp of air.

There was a part of him, the small sliver of Ajax that remained, that wanted nothing more but to worship the only woman he had ever loved. To spend all night learning every inch of your body. But Childe didn't worship, he destroyed.

"You were always going to be mine." He murmured, almost to himself, before he latched onto your neck, sucking and biting and leaving a trail of angry purple marks in his wake as you arched beneath him. He was unrelenting, even as he ripped clothes from your shivering body, on a mission to consume every inch of your bare skin.

When his lips found yours again, you melted. You realised faintly that he was right. It was always going to be him, no matter if it was Childe or Ajax. Still years after that fleeting kiss, you'd never stopped thinking about it, about him. In the long winters, you'd dream about him, about more than just a kiss.

Still, even in something as simple and complex as a kiss, you'd found hope. All of Childe seemed to run cold, except his kiss. In this, more than anything else―more than battle―he truly seemed alive again. As much as he had tried to fight it, to convince himself it was some other fleeting emotion, love was still decidedly human. Childe was still human. Even after being stripped of everything; his hopes, his dreams, his childhood; the abyss could not strip him of this.

Childe relished it.

Touch starved, his humanity had shrivelled; cut off from the world; but now it came alive under your gentle caress, aching for more.

He let out a strangled cry, keening his hips forward to grind into you, devouring your soft gasp of surprise.

Even inside by the fire, you should have been cold. Snezhnayan winters were cruel, their icy tendrils always creeping inside; under doorframes, through the window seals, exploiting any weakness they could find. Instead, exposed in only your underwear, your body felt hot. The feeling of Childe's toned body moving against yours, his searing kisses on your delicate skin, had you breathless and dizzy. His fingers dug into the plush of your hips, pulling you hard against him. You were sure you would find the crescent shaped indents of his nails there tomorrow. That wasn't what had you gasping. Pressing harshly against the sensitive skin of your thighs, was the stiff mould of his cock. It was inconceivably hard, so much so that you were sure it must be painful. In fact, his unyielding length coupled with the way his weight was bearing down upon you, made his movements difficult for your tender clit to endure.

You cried out as he pressed himself increasingly harder against your body. The Ajax in your dreams would have fussed over you, but Childe simply scoffed. He did, however, cease his actions to sit back on his haunches.

"You're one to talk." He murmured, regarding your breathless features. "The thought of you has tortured me for far to long for you to make me restrain myself."

Your mouth felt dry as you watch his slender fingers advance on the waistband of his grey uniform. Your brain felt sluggish still. You? Torture him?

"I bet you dreamed of him, didn't you?" Childe drawled, his fingers working at the buttons painfully slowly. "Ajax could barely kiss you." Childe laughed, but it was devoid of humour, sending shivers up your spine. "That coward never would've fucked you," The words stung as intended. Childe smirked, relishing the way you glanced away; eyes burning. A gloved hand found your chin again, forcing you back to look at him. "but I will."

Childe watched you sharply; alert to the smallest of your movements, every twitch of muscle. He reminded of you of the wolves you'd encountered in your search for him; calculating any sign of weakness, patient for the perfect time to strike. Still, it felt like he ways toying with you; you'd fallen right into his careful trap and he had you right where he wanted you. A part of you felt humiliated. Were you such an open book that he'd known your feelings this whole time, even before you'd admitted them to yourself? The other part of you could hardly care about what it had taken to get here. Your own heartbeat thundered in your ears. He was half naked on top of you, promising to finally fulfil your desire for him. You could still feel the ghost of his desire against the soft skin it had been pressed against just seconds earlier and your cheeks grew even hotter.

You barely had time to register your own conflict, unable to restrain your conspicuous stare as you watched Childe swiftly remove his last layers, pushing them unceremoniously down to his mid thigh. For all his slow teasing movements, he was quick to wrap eager fingers around his girth. His erection was tall and pale, much like the rest of him, and through his desperate movements you could see blue-green veins snaking the surface. He had already been leaking pearlescent beads of pre-cum, made all the more visible against the deep pink of his swollen head, but Childe's efforts saw it begin to dribble down his length, smearing against his hand. The sight of it only heightened the white hot flame deep in your abdomen, your patience fraying further with every practiced flick of his wrist.

"Childe.." you groaned, reaching for him impatiently. It was a needy gesture, one that stemmed from pure lust for him, but it was so unexpected and intimate that it shocked him still. You wanted him, not just for mindless sex, but at the very least to be held by him again. In his stunned silence, he allowed himself to be pulled into your embrace; his shock quickly forgotten as you rutted up against his aching erection.

He was more desperate for you than he would ever admit to. As much as he despised your naïve crush on Ajax, his love for you was one of the few things he had retained from his former self. It was rare he didn't dream of you; though he suspected that had much to do with the comfort of his hand that helped lull him to sleep each night. Each place he visited, he would imagine you there without fail and inevitably the ways in which he would finally ravage you. His lust had only darkened, becoming all the more urgent, with your arrival at his command. The proximity had been torture. Just the thought of how close you were, that you worked alone and out of sight mere meters away. For once, that tainted part of him had been the one frantically battling against his instincts, trying to hastily convince him that what he felt couldn't be right.

Now though, with you eager underneath him, all protests had dissipated. The only thing in his mind now was you, as if you were all that mattered. As if all that had ever existed was the two of you, in this moment for eternity.

"Childe..." you were groaning impatiently against his ear, the friction no longer enough.

"Tell me you don't use that stupid name." He failed to prevent the chuckle that came with the sound of the alias in your mouth. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck in an attempt to hide his amusement, hoping to distract you by sliding his large open palm down the bare skin of your side.

He could feel the skin of your neck warm against his cheek with embarrassment. "Well I didn't think you wanted to be called Ajax." you fumbled with your words, too focused on the progress of his hand; his name but a choked gasp as you felt his thumb hook around the band of your underwear. Usually he would have bristled at the sound of that name but hearing the way it fell from your lips; breathy and laced with the urgent agony of your own desire-

"again." He demanded, but it had none of the authority he usually commanded, instead coming out pleading. "say my name again."

Whether you processed his words through your own haze of lust, or he elicited the shaking Ajax that passed your lips naturally with the movement of your hips, it had him undone. His hand flexed at your side, the already tight grip he had on your underwear snapped the band easily. He wasted no time, fingers moving between your bodies, pressing right where you wanted him most. You whined, desperate for their movement, but Childe only groaned against your shoulder and continued to explore your folds at a painfully slow pace. You were so wet, and for him nonetheless. Of all the nights he had spent conjuring different variations of this moment, never had he imagined you could be so wet. He was faintly aware his own hot breaths coming hard and heavy against your exposed collarbone. Long, calloused fingers slid effortlessly inside you, drawing another cry of his name. Mesmerised by the sensation of your walls eagerly obliging his intrusion, he added another. The thought of that same feeling wrapped around his swollen cock was almost too much too bear and he felt himself throb, smearing pre-cum against the skin of your trembling thigh.

Much to your dismay, he removed his hands, leaving you with an aching emptiness. Unconsciously, your legs tried to clamp closed but only succeeded in squeezing at Childe's sides. He pressed himself up onto his knees, your legs still round his waist. His hands were hot on the skin of your hips and wet with your slick arousal as he moved to settle himself between your legs. He pulled his torso from yours, and you whined at the loss; his heavy body an intimate comfort as much as a grounding presence in your spiralling lust. You arched with a gasp as he edged forward, dragging his tip against the slick satin of your folds as shaking hands attempted to position himself. He swore lowly as his cock caught your entrance. He wasted no time in easing himself inside, hypnotised at the sight of his length disappearing inside of you. Your walls stretched eagerly around him, drawing him further and further in. He had never imagined you taking so much of him, a choked noise escaping his throat at the sensation of bottoming out.

"Ajax"

Despite his fears, he was now sure he was entirely not human. Any human would have came at the sensation of your delicious embrace around his stiff cock. His feeble pride and the allure of sex that could even exceed his current bliss, was all that kept him from falling apart inside you. The sight of your features, warped by pleasure, threatened this careful balance. He couldn't help himself, bracing himself on one arm and looming over you just to get a better view. He thrust tentatively, watching you face as it drew a moan from you.

His teasing only tested your sanity, already stretched thin with lust and your prolonged longing. He was incomparable to your fingers, the sheer pleasure of reality so inconceivable that you could have never imagined it. The feeling of Childe inside you; stretching you so pleasurably, filling you so entirely; was pure, mind-numbing ecstasy. Watching him, so stoic and unreadable, become undone above you from the sensation of you alone, to hear him plead you to call his name--his real name-- had you so much closer than you should have been. You had ached for him for so long, the feeling of his thrusts growing all the more frenzied was driving you alarming close to the edge. The harsh snap of his hips against yours as he chased his own pleasure, the sound of his choked gasps above you, the feeling of his greedy fingers digging into your hips, all comforted you knowing he was just as close as you were.

"Kiss me." Glassy, dark blue eyes found yours, your fingers reaching up to tangle in his mess of red hair. You pulled gently at the roots, eliciting another groan, as you dragged him down to meet your lips. His kiss was frantic, teeth clashing clumsily with the feverish movement of his mouth on yours, as his thrusts grew wild and sloppy. You felt him swell slightly with a cry, before he came hard. The sensation of his throbbing erection he continued to pour himself deeper inside of you, was all you needed. Your own orgasm was brutal, throwing your head back into the couch. Childe's groans as you tightened and thrust yourself on his dribbling cock, sounded muffled and far away as you worked through your own mind-shattering release.

He knew now, more than ever, that he could never deny himself again. Whether he was Tartaglia, or Ajax, or Childe; he would always be yours.

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butterflydm · 1 year

Note

Nynaeve and maybe Lan for the blorbo bingo?

Thank you!

Nynaeve! <3 <3

I love her to pieces. Her PoV is a genuine trip, utterly delightful. I also love how the show feels like it distilled the essence of her and filtered out Jordan's weird obsession with making all authority figures cartoonishly violent, I have to say. Nynaeve doesn't need a thumping stick and I'm glad it was taken away from her, lol.

I love how she adopts these kids as her responsibility and then takes that so seriously that she turns her own world upside down in order to help them. I love that she both underestimates how wonderful she is while at the same time believing she is the only person in the world who isn't a fool.

The "writer's dropped the ball" is pretty much entirely about how she basically disappears as a headlining character after she and Lan get married. After that, she mostly plays back-up singer in other people's plotlines, even though there were still tons of plots that she could have headlined (I am crossing my fingers hard that we get Nynaeve doing the Black Tower plotline in the show!). Her being essentially a battery for Rand in the cleansing, for example, is just... Jordan did not have to write the plot that way.

I think that the show will absolutely not make that mistake and we will get Peak Nynaeve for the entire run. <3

I like Lan so much more in the show haha. In the books, I honestly mostly just tolerate him because many characters that I care about love him, but I genuinely love him for his own sake in the show!

The relationships that we got to see him showing with Moiraine and with the other Warders were a genuine highlight for me and I'm looking forward to seeing where he goes in the future. <3 <3 <3

The biggest issue I have with Lan is that he often gets treated as a Cool Mentor With Great Advice and some people (though not as often on tumblr) don't seem to realize that the advice that he gives Rand is awful, actually, and that the books are critiquing Lan's advice and following his advice is one of the big things that turns Rand into 'brittle hard' rather than 'flexible strong'. The thing about Lan is that he's been essentially abused since childhood by the remnants of his culture -- in a way that is understandable emotionally (he is the Lost and Last King of Malkier) but raising a child to believe it's his duty to go kill himself in an unwinnable war is a bad thing. Jordan actually DID see this very much about Lan's character -- that's the whole point about Nynaeve (and Rand) breaking down the walls inside him and letting hope back into his life. Or even back in New Spring, when Moiraine gives him a reason to dedicate his life to a purpose instead of just promising his death to a purpose (and we actively see him being abused by his culture in that book via that lady whose name I forget).

Book!Lan is the Fight Club of Wheel of Time, I guess I'm saying.

#wot #wheel of time #blorbo bingo wot #nynaeve al'meara #lan mandragoran #wot book spoilers #wot amol spoilers #wot a memory of light spoilers

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the-cult-of-russo · 2 years

Text

Poetic Tragedy (Part 12)

Pairing: Reader X Billy Russo

Warnings: Cursing, angst, sadness, substance abuse, mental health issues, mentions of sexual assault. This one’s a little dark and not really in a violent way (okay some of it is lmao). Just more the themes explored, I guess?

There's a little smut in this one for you guys looool

A/N: I can’t believe I was so inspired that I churned out a 12 part fic lmao. For some reason, I always struggle with writing long fics for Billy. For other fandoms, I can legit get up to an 80 part story. I think it's because I prefer writing OCs rather than reader inserts, but I know last I asked on here before I vanished that the Billy fandom prefers reader stories.

The longest Billy fic I’ve done was Red, White and Blue which was a collab with @blanchedelioncourt and I think the only reason I managed that was ‘cause she was cheering me on the whole way and it was so fun writing together. That was also an OC story, not a reader one, and I did all Billy’s parts (which was ridiculously fun to do lol) while she did her OCs. I’d love to be super inspired to write a long ass Billy fic like I do with other fandoms. When I was away from this blog I wrote a 75 part Spike x OC story for the Buffy fandom lmaoooo

—------------------

One year later

“You’re getting really good at that,” Curtis murmured and you would have seen his encouraging smile but you didn’t look up from your task. Your tongue poked out of your mouth in concentration as you carefully threaded the needle through the skin, watching the wound close before your eyes. You’d stitched that many wounds these past few months that your hands didn't shake when you did it anymore.

“Ow, Jesus!”

Your eyes snapped up to your patient then, dangerously narrowing in warning at him. One hand was settled on his bare chest, the other holding the needle above the wound which was just below the shoulder.

“Do you want this stitched up or not?” you asked with a short tone.

“Curt, I think your little apprentice needs to work on her bedside manner,” he drawled with a smirk.

“Careful, Billy, or I might stitch your mouth up next,” you gave him a saccharine smile and he looked at you like he wasn't sure if you actually meant your words or not. You heard Curtis snort from across the room as you continued with closing the wound, tying it off like Curtis had shown you before cutting the thread. He hadn't even hurt himself on a mission or doing something brave. Instead, he’d hurt himself because he decided it was a good idea to go up a ladder after he’d had a few drinks.

“What d'you think, Doc? Is it gonna leave a scar?” he asked with a self-deprecating smile since he was already littered with them, his eyes looking over to Curtis. Your eyes narrowed again and you poked him scarily close to his wound and he yelped, looking at you in shock. You never allowed him to talk shit about himself, especially when it came to his scars. Curtis came over, inspecting your patch job and he hummed, smiling at you.

“You’re gonna put me out of a job at this rate,” he smirked, making heat creep into your cheeks at his praise.

So much had changed in the year that passed and you barely had any remnants of your old life. You and Billy had taken things slow as you’d both agreed on and he’d been a little more understanding, yet not very happy, when you’d left again. He’d come to visit you at your alley or you’d go there for dinner sometimes and it was nice as you got to know each other better. Eventually, you started staying the night there and as time wore on, you spent less nights out on the streets. And now, a year later, you didn't sleep on the streets at all but you didn't really miss it. It had been a gradual thing that progressed as your relationship with Billy progressed. The more serious you both got, the less time you wanted to be away from him and the cold and desolate streets of New York started to lose their appeal. You were glad you’d taken it slow though as you knew it wouldn't work out the same if you’d just moved in here right away. You’d needed to wean yourself away from your old life and it had worked. Your dislike of violence had Curtis seeking you out to help him in the infirmary. There were even more to the ranks here since last year and he needed all the help he could get. You found you had a natural touch when it came to healing and helping people. You finally had a place and a purpose here that wasn't directly linked to being in a relationship with Billy.

Once Billy had his shirt back on, he stood up and leaned in to peck your lips. It had taken a bit to get used to such intimate gestures and touches with him, a little beyond what you were used to. But you liked it and with time, it started to feel second nature. Without Curtis needing your assistance anymore that night, Billy laced his hand with yours as he led you out of the infirmary and back into the main area. Your eyes drifted around, taking in the Christmas decorations as a warmth spread in your chest. It would be Christmas the next day. You’d never celebrated it before, not even when you had a home because your parents didn't care enough to give you one. You hadn't celebrated it the year before either as it was just after Billy had been in hospital and it wasn't really on anyone’s mind. But this year, Frank had declared you all would be celebrating it as you all needed some holiday joy. He’d turned up the day before with Billy and a huge ass Christmas tree that you were pretty sure they’d somehow stolen. It was said tree that Billy had been decorating when he’d fallen off the ladder and onto a box of decorations, some of which were glass. The place looked magical all dressed up like this with all the twinkling lights and tinsel. You’d been amused at watching the badass recruits all falling over themselves to joyfully decorate the place. It felt like a very large family and you loved it, never having that feeling before.

“What do you think?” Billy asked, smiling at you as you took it in. You’d been in the infirmary most of the day so you hadn't seen some of the decorations and hadn't seen the tree that was now done.

“It's beautiful,” you murmured, a wistful smile on your face as you turned to him. Billy had confessed to you that he wasn't a huge fan of Christmas. He, just like you, hadn't had one growing up really and then he’d found Frank and the Castles. The Christmases with them had been something else and after they died, he never wanted to have another Christmas. You had a feeling it had also been hard for Frank. You hadn't been sure why they’d changed their mind this year until Billy told you that he wanted you to experience the magic that he had with the Castles, that you deserved it. And you had a sneaky feeling Frank was thinking something similar to Karen, although she most likely had some experience with the whole Christmas thing.

“I’m glad you like it,” he replied softly, cupping your cheek as your hands bunched into his t-shirt. Your eyes fluttered shut as he kissed you, melting into him the same as you always did. When he pulled away, his dark brown eyes were warm as he gazed at you and his thumb stroked your cheek.

“I love you,” he murmured, rubbing his nose against yours sweetly. You felt the butterflies swarming your stomach as you smiled up at him. No matter how many times he’d said it, you’d never get used to it.

“I love you too,” you smiled, leaning up to give him another kiss.

Things with you and Billy hadn't been plain sailing. You were new to any type of relationship and he was new to one like this and you both still had issues. His head still wasn’t quite right and you didn't think it ever would be after the trauma it had suffered and you had a temper. There had been a few explosive fights with you, when Billy was being unreasonable or overbearing and you couldn't hack it. After being on your own for so long there was no way you’d sit there and take orders. The pair of you could be stubborn but with time, you’d learnt to be better at the relationship. Learned to give and take. You both struggled to admit when you were in the wrong, but knowing how much you could hurt each other usually made you both humble up pretty quickly. You hated when you said something hurtful and you’d see his face fall, hurt flashing behind his eyes, and you knew he felt the same about you. The fights had become less frequent with each passing month and things had settled down nicely. The fights would no longer be drawn out for days as you both refused to back down and only made things worse and instead, whoever was in the wrong would sheepishly approach the other to apologize. And you both weren't assholes about either. You didn't prolong the argument by refusing the apology. Neither of you got any joy when you fought.

You moved away from Billy, walking over to where your polaroid camera was sitting on the table. It had been an early Christmas present off Micro since he wouldn't be there for Christmas, instead spending it with his family. He’d given it to you two weeks prior when you last saw him, telling you he was too excited to wait closer to Christmas to give it to you. You’d accidentally discovered your love for photography when he’d let you use one of his cameras and he’d told you once that you seemed to be able to capture the beauty in anything, especially in the city you were so fond of. He had a collection of cameras and you’d been fascinated by the polaroid as it printed the picture instantly. There was something special about the fact the picture couldn't be edited or changed, that you had one chance to get the shot you wanted. Because nothing was perfect and capturing that was what you loved best. You’d been overjoyed and moved beyond words by his gift and you’d made good use of it. You swiped it off the table, aiming it at the beautifully decorated tree. You snapped a picture of it, setting it on the table to develop as you took a few more of the recruits decorating and laughing with each other, a cute candid of Frank and Karen snuggling on one of the many beat-up second-hand sofas that were now here. The place had changed so much since you’d first come here. It no longer just felt like a base of operations where a bunch of people were staying, but it felt more like a home. There was even a little recreational area on the first floor too now.

“I like that one,” Billy hummed from over your shoulder, looking down at the one of Frank and Karen in your hand as it fully developed.

“Should I put it on the wall”? You asked, looking at him curiously. His lips curled into a smirk as he kissed the side of your head. He took the picture from you and you followed him as he went to the wall near the rec area, tacking the picture up with all of the many you’d put up there. Everyone seemed to enjoy that wall and would often come to look at it, sometimes finding one of themselves they hadn't even realized you’d taken. Billy had been a little harder to capture at first. He’d point-blank refused to be photographed because of his face. You’d tried your best in your time with him to reassure him, to show him you loved him no matter if he had scars. You felt that it had helped as slowly over the two weeks that you’d had the camera, he’d started to allow you to take pictures of him. You wanted him to see the beauty that you saw in him too.

Later that night, everyone was hanging out on the lower floor just having a fun and relaxed Christmas eve. A group of you were sitting on or around the sofas as you all played charades and you found it hilarious how competitive Frank and Billy could be and how they’d get annoyed with each other. Billy was the one up and you were sitting on the sofa with a cup of hot chocolate in hand, courtesy of Annie who had made everyone one with some whipped cream and marshmallows. Some people had a splash of alcohol in theirs but you’d abstained.

“Movie title,” Frank asserted eagerly as Billy made a gesture. Frank was sitting on the edge of a sofa as Karen smirked at him. You still weren't even sure how to play the game but you found the whole thing amusing. Billy held up two fingers and Frank called out ‘two words’ and Karen snorted loudly into her cup.

“First word, okay,” Frank muttered after Billy held up one finger.

“Kill!” Frank barked after Billy made a motion like he was slitting his own throat. He shook his head, giving Frank an annoyed look and he’d only just started.

“Dead! Murder!” Frank kept shouting out words and you slurped your hot chocolate and tried not to laugh at how eager he was about it all. Billy growled, looking ready to throttle him. He held up two fingers then and from what little you’d learned from watching them play, he’d decided to move on to the second word instead. He gestured to his crotch and you raised a curious brow as Frank looked stumped.

“Cock?! Dick?!” He yelled, Billy shaking his head every time and you almost choked on your drink as Karen started laughing. You couldn't believe how seriously they were taking it. Billy lay his hand over his crotch again before raising his hand, quirking a brow at Frank like it was obvious.

“The fuck is that supposed to be?!” Frank growled, only serving to make you and Karen laugh more and you weren't the only ones as everyone in hearing vicinity was finding it amusing.

“Goddamn it, Frankie! I was Die Hard, you fuckin’ moron!” Billy shouted, a vein in his neck bulging as he gave Frank a scathing look.

“How was I supposed to guess that with that bullshit?” Frank huffed as he shook his head.

“It was kind of obvious,” Karen murmured with a cheeky grin. Frank turned to her looking offended.

“You could have helped me,” he griped petulantly and she shot him a smirk.

“I’m not on your team, why would I do that?” she snorted.

“And you call yourself a Bruce Willis fan,” Billy scoffed, still glaring at Frank for letting the team down.

“When did I say that?” Frank asked, squinting at him slightly.

“Didn't have to. Was kinda obvious when you carried a picture of him overseas,” Billy smirked mockingly at him, making Frank gape at him.

“Like hell I did!” he yelled, standing up as he and Billy moved to stand toe to toe with each other, Billy’s eyes lighting up like he loved the prospect of a fight.

“Alright you two, sit your asses down,” Karen grinned, shaking her head as she shoved Billy over to you and Frank back in his seat. Billy was grumbling to himself as he sat with you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You all stayed there for a bit longer watching some others play, it being a lot safer when Billy and Frank weren’t up and with their constant bitching at each other.

“Should we give Frank and Karen their gift now?” Billy asked quietly from next to you. You looked at him, excitement radiating from every pore in your body. You’d been so excited about this that you’d pestered Billy to let you give it to them early. Seeing you practically wriggling where you sat with eager eyes, he chuckled before standing up, you following suit.

“Hey, you guys got a minute?” Billy asked, tapping Frank on the shoulder as he interrupted their conversation. Billy moved over to where you were hovering, biting your lip to stop the smile from splitting your face as they walked over.

“What's up?” Karen asked, looking a little worried.

“Me and Y/N wanted to give you your present early,” Billy explained with a smirk, Karen and Frank glanced at each other for a moment before back at the pair of you.

“You sure? We can wait-” Frank started but you cut him right off.

“You’re not waiting! Come on!” you whined impatiently, earning a snort from Billy.

“Gotta come up and get it,” Billy grinned. They followed you both up the stairs, you and Billy sharing shit-eating grins as you got to your floor. But instead of going to the room you shared with Billy, you stopped outside of your old room. When you’d started to stay the night with him, it had been in his room and when you eventually moved in, neither of you really spoke about you having your own room as it felt pointless. Billy gestured with his head for Frank to open the door and he shot Karen a wary look before he pushed it open, walking inside with Karen towing behind him. You felt like you were vibrating you were so excited, you hadn't stopped being excited since Karen had told you the news a month before. It had been your idea and Billy had loved it.

“Oh my god!” Karen cried out as you and Billy filed in after them. Your old room was now a rainbow-themed nursery, complete with a crib and all the furniture new parents would need and a bunch of stuffed animals. Karen was tearful, one hand over her mouth and the other over her stomach as she soaked it all in and Frank was blinking rapidly as he looked around. He turned to you and Billy then with a meaningful look on his face.

“You didn't have to do this,” he murmured, his voice sounding raw.

“We wanted to,” you replied softly, giving him a smile.

“You know I’ll always take care of you, Frankie, no matter what it is you need,” Billy’s voice was thick with emotion and you knew this whole thing had been tough for both of them after the loss of Frank’s family. Frank sniffled with a smile, moving to grab Billy in a long hug as they muttered something to each other you couldn't make out. Karen took your hand, tears down her cheeks.

“Thank you, I love it,” she said sincerely, trying to muster up a smile for you. You squeezed her hand as you smiled back with a nod.

“I’m glad you like it,” you replied. She moved to hug Billy then and Frank rested his hand on your shoulder.

“I really appreciate this, we both do,” he muttered firmly, leveling a look at you that told you just how much he meant his words. The four of you hung out a little bit in the new nursery as Karen and Frank really took in everything they had now for the new baby. After a while, you and Billy decided to head to bed and Karen and Frank went back downstairs, not ready to turn in for the night. You were over the moon they liked their gift and you couldn't wait for the baby to be born. You’d never had family or friends to experience this with before and you found the whole thing exciting.

When you and Billy got to your room, you stripped out of your clothes and changed into your pajamas, which were essentially just a t-shirt of Billy’s and some panties. You climbed into bed with a yawn before Billy, who was only in his boxers, got in beside you.

“You excited for your first Christmas?” he asked softly, rolling to face you. You copied him, now facing him and smiling when he tucked your hair behind your ear sweetly.

“I am, I’ve already been enjoying the festivities,” you grinned, making him smile. He leaned over, kissing you softly but it quickly became heated as he rolled on top of you. You felt desire shoot through you like an electric current as he pressed himself against you, moaning into the kiss and getting a moan from him in response. Things on the sexual side had been slow at first with Billy, given your history and lack of experience. It had taken you four months to feel ready to take that leap and he hadn't put any pressure on you. Not even letting his hands wander when you made out like a pair of horny teenagers so he didn't make you think he was pushing you. You were grateful for him to let you take the lead, to let him know when you were ready. And after four months, you had been. You had no idea how to initiate it though since you’d never done anything before and your times with Josh had you lying there like a lifeless doll. And being as blunt as you were and seeing no sense in dancing around it, you’d just told him how you felt. You told him you wanted to take the next step but had no idea what you were doing. He didn't make you feel stupid or embarrassed about it either. He was kind and caring as he guided you through everything as you learned to explore sex with him. Something that had once been negative to you quickly became something positive and you’d even tried some things with him you never thought you’d be into. Trusting him as much as you did, you never felt embarrassed about trying things with him as you learned about yourself in a way you’d never had the chance to before.

His kiss was bruising and you lost yourself in it. You never knew which Billy you would get in bed, soft and slow or hard and rough, but that was half the fun. It usually depended on his mood and you were happy to go along with whatever because you liked it either way. A fun perk of having your explosive arguments would be the just as explosive make-up sex. He slipped his hand into your panties and started circling your clit with ease, making you gasp and he moaned against your lips. He had you writhing against his hand in no time, panting into the kisses he was showering you with. But then he moved away, tugging the shirt off you impatiently and pulling your panties down. He rid himself of his boxers before lining himself up for you, not feeling up to much foreplay tonight it seemed as he sheathed into you in one fluid motion. Your moans mingled together and he propped himself up with one arm beside your head as the other grabbed your thigh, hitching it up a little. He started thrusting into you, not quite fast but not slow either and you arched up to meet each thrust. The hand on your thigh slid up and then around to your lower back, angling your hips in a way that had a loud moan erupting from you. He kissed you desperately, your bodies entwined together and you felt the pleasure gripping you like a vice. He moved to kneel up then, his hands trailing over your breasts as he palmed them, his thrusts slowing for a moment. It was like the calm before the storm before his hands gripped your hips tightly and he started fucking into you roughly. Your moans got louder and more desperate, your hands coming above your head to the headboard, needing to find purchase on something as your body jostled with the movement. Each thrust felt like it had the air being forced out of your lungs in a needy moan. You felt your pleasure increasing, your body tingling all over as you listened to his groans, watched his face contorted in pleasure with his mouth slightly open and his eyes screwed shut.

“Billy,” his name tumbled off your lips like a fervent prayer and he let out a dirty moan that almost pushed you right over the edge. He was over you again in a second, his mouth claiming yours roughly as he kept his punishing pace with you. You could barely kiss him back in your delirium, moaning wantonly into his mouth as your back bowed up off the bed. It felt like you exploded into a million tiny fragments as your release washed over you. He moaned sinfully against your lips, thrusting into you a few more times before he came with a harsh and rough groan.

The pair of you lay there panting for a moment, his forehead resting on yours as you came down from your high. But then he was giving you a dopey smile, kissing your lips tenderly. You hummed softly into the kiss and when he pulled out of you, you felt the loss instantly. He flopped onto his back looking tired and you wasted no time in rolling over, laying your head on his chest. His arms came around you with no hesitation, one of his hands going to your hair as he stroked it softly.

“I love you,” you mumbled tiredly into his chest. He pressed his lips to your head for a moment, his arms around you tightening.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he murmured softly, making you smile against him as your eyes fluttered shut.

The next morning, you shuffled down the stairs sleepily with Billy by your side and a wrapped present in your hand. You’d been woken by Frank telling you both to get your asses downstairs. It had resulted in the sibling-like bickering you’d grown to be fond of between Billy and Frank since he’d walked right in and you had only a sheet for your modesty. But Frank had pointed out that Billy had walked in on him and Karen plenty of times. As you got into the main area, you saw a mountain of presents and smiled to yourself, seeing everyone milling around, eating breakfast or just hanging out near the big tree. Billy still had some of his money left over from his Anvil days, although it was slowly dwindling with no income to replace it and he was trying to be more careful with it. But he wanted to make sure every single recruit got a gift from him and Frank to show them they were appreciated. They’d sent Karen off with her investigative experience to figure out what to get everyone. All the presents were wrapped and had tags on and you wondered who the hell had managed that feat, having a feeling it was probably the machine also known as Karen. You spent the morning drinking coffee and nibbling croissants as you watched all of the recruits open their gifts. There was a warmth in your chest that seemed to be settled there, not moving since you’d come downstairs. Karen and Frank came over to where you and Billy were then, two wrapped presents in their hands.

“These are you for,” Karen murmured, handing you one as Frank handed Billy the other. You gave them a shy smile before you started to peel the perfectly wrapped paper and when you were done, you grinned. It was a beautiful dark brown coat with cream fur trim, some embroidered flowers along the bottom of it. It looked like it would fall past your hips. It had a retro vibe about it that you loved and you felt touched as your fingers danced along the fur.

“Thank you guys,” you said softly, beaming up at them. You didn't have a coat, you’d never bothered to get one and you didn't like the idea of Billy buying you one when you knew he was basically funding this place from the only money he had. You’d been using spare coats that were hung in a closet.

“I thought of you as soon as I saw it,” Karen grinned, looking happy you liked it.

“Holy shit,” Billy breathed from next to you, sounding in awe. You turned to look at him to see a large knife in his hands, all black with a fancy-looking handle. He twirled it expertly before he shot you a dirty smirk and you felt your cheeks burn as you looked away quickly. While you had a distaste for violence, you found out only the week prior that you were pretty fond of Billy wielding a knife in the bedroom. You’d really surprised yourself with that one.

“I fuckin’ love this,” Billy laughed, a bright smile on his face before he stood and grabbed Frank in a tight hug. Frank clapped him on the back before he moved away, eyeing the knife a little warily and you snorted. Billy then moved to hug Karen and you stood too. You still weren't much of a hugger with anyone other than Billy but you were slowly getting used to it and after the gift they’d just gotten you, you felt like it was a good moment. With Karen busy with Billy, Frank smiled warmly at you, moving over to grab you in a hug. He squeezed you a little before moving away.

“Welcome to the family, Y/N,” he murmured, making your throat feel a little tight. Karen wrapped her arms around you then, her hug a little longer than Franks.

“Merry Christmas,” she smiled, pulling away. You felt a little overwhelmed and always conscious of your needs and knowing how you were feeling, Billy thanked them once again before moving you to sit once more.

You and Billy sat there for a little longer, snuggled up together as you just enjoyed watching everyone have a good time. You kept wondering when you should give Billy his gift but he hadn’t mentioned anything yet and you were a little nervous so you just happily cuddled into him for a while.

“Come on,” Billy murmured after a bit, pulling you up from your seat.

“Where are we going?” you asked, blinking up at him.

“The roof, get your coat,” he flashed you a smile and you grabbed his wrapped present before you grabbed your new coat, smiling to yourself as you put it on. It was so warm and cozy, you loved it. Billy grabbed his own coat, matching you slightly with the small amount of fur on his collar and you watched him as he tugged the hood from his hoodie out of it. He took your hand as he led you up to the roof. You’d both created a little area up here, like a little safe space just for you two. It had a sofa and a small table, some lights too. In the warmer months, you’d even camped up here much like he had set up for you the night before the Irish mob got wiped out and you loved it. The only thing you missed about being out here as you slept was being under the stars. You both walked to the sofa and sat down and you felt anxiety thrumming through you about your gift. You had no idea if he’d like it or not and with his moods, sometimes it was hard to predict how he might react. You wanted to get it out of the way so you handed him his gift first with a hesitant smile. He took it, slowly unwrapping it as your eyes stayed glued on his face for even the smallest of reactions. If things went south, you weren't above grabbing it off him and running back downstairs. Once opened, he was faced with a black velvet scrapbook and he raised a brow at you.

“Open it,” you encouraged, a nervous smile on your face as he did as you asked. There were pages of various pictures of people he cared about. Frank, Karen, Curtis and Micro. Some of the recruits doing drills or just hanging out. There were even a couple of the Castles that Frank had given you when you told him what your present idea had been. Billy swallowed thickly as he turned page after page, taking it all in and getting noticeably emotional whenever he saw one of the Castle’s.

As the pages drew on, he started to be included in the pictures. One’s of him and Frank or him and Curtis or Micro, some of them altogether. Most of them were candid pictures given he didn't like posing for pictures and there was a sweet one of him giving Karen a hug from her birthday that year. The next page was filled with just pictures of him, all of them candid and he had no idea you’d taken and this was the part you were worried about the most. You knew how self-conscious he was, knew his aversion to having pictures taken, so you hoped he wouldn't be upset by it. There were pictures of him training or running drills, some of him cleaning his guns or knives. Various candid shots of him smiling or laughing as he spoke to someone but you managed to just get him in the shot. There was even one of him sleeping, looking peaceful and serene. He didn't look at you as he took it all in, his Adam's apple bobbing as his dark eyes swept over all the pictures of himself. He turned the page and was greeted with the last two pages that were full, you’d left some empty to add to later, and it was full of the pair of you. He only ever allowed you to take pictures of him if he was with you and you had a good number of them. Cheesy shots with a bright grin on your face, ones you’d taken after saying something to purposely make him laugh. There was one of the pair of you lying in bed together looking incredibly rumpled with sleepy smiles on your faces. There were even a few you hadn't taken yourself but Karen had. Some candids of the pair of you she’d decided to take since she knew what your plan had been. And you were grateful for them, you loved them the most. One of you sitting on Billy’s lap on the sofa, the pair of you smiling at each other. One of you laughing together and another of him training you in basic self-defense. There was one of you clinging to him after he’d come back from a job, his hand in your hair with his eyes closed, a relieved smile on his face. There was even one Karen had taken of when Billy had purposely made you walk under some mistletoe with him just two days before and then kissed you.

Billy was uncharacteristically silent as he looked at them all and you toyed with your hands restlessly, unsure if he liked it or was upset with you.

“Do you like it?” you asked quietly, dread coating your tone as he just sat there staring for what felt like forever.

“I uh…” his voice cracked and he clamped his mouth shut for a moment before taking a steadying breath. You noticed then how shiny his eyes were as he looked right at you. You felt breathless at the sight.

“I love it. I don't even… I never thought I’d like lookin’ at pictures of myself again. But this is… it’s amazing. Micro was right, you really do capture the beauty in anything,” he murmured, his voice wavering a little. He reached out and clutched your hand, your body relaxing infinitely knowing he liked it. It touched you that he was moved so much by it. That it meant so much to him, as much as it meant to you when you put it together.

“It’s not hard to capture beauty in something already so beautiful,” you replied, a loving smile on your face. His eyes softened as he brought your hand to his mouth, placing a kiss on it before he tugged you. You wound up straddling him and his hands slipped inside your coat, settling on your hips.

“Thank you. It's the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” he said sincerely, squeezing your hips a little. You felt your cheeks heat up a little as you smiled down at him, your hand coming to toy with the short hair at the base of his skull.

“I was worried you wouldn't like it. It meant a lot to me, putting it together. It's special… you're special,” you breathed, gazing down at him. His lips curled into a smile, one of his hands moving to the back of your neck as he pulled you down for a kiss. He seemed to pour his gratitude into the kiss and when you pulled away, you felt lightheaded.

“Time for your present,” he smirked, but it seemed a little off. Tense somehow. It took you a moment to realize he was nervous too and it was slightly endearing that you hadn't been the only one worried. He pulled something out of his coat pocket before holding it in front of him. It was a small black box and he toyed with it for a moment, eyes darting from you to the box before back at you. He didn't say anything as he cracked it open and revealed a beautiful silver ring. There was a large diamond in the middle and two sapphire stones on either side. You blinked down at the very expensive looking gift for a moment, unsure what to say.

“It doesn't haveta mean anything. It- It could just be a… a pretty ring you wear,” he started, unable to look at you as he shook his head.

“What do you want it to mean?” you asked slowly, unsure where he was going with this and his weird presentation of the ring to you. He took the ring out of the box, setting the box on the sofa beside you, still not looking at you as he stared at it.

“I’d ask you to… to marry me, but uh… I’m a wanted fugitive so I don't see us… don’t see us walking down the aisle anytime soon,” he muttered with a chuckle, seeming unsure of himself. His words stole the breath from your lungs and your heart started beating like a hummingbird's wings in your chest. He looked up at you then, his dark eyes boring right into yours for a moment and suddenly, it seemed like his nerves melted away from him.

“I want it to mean that I love you. That I want forever with you. It means… It means that I-I found all I ever needed right here with you. It means that when I’m with you… the world just… it stops turnin’. Nothin’ else matters when I’m with you. All the bullshit I’ve been through, all the pain and loss and hurt… none of it matters. It means that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, no matter how long that might be and I don’t need no damn papers to make it real,” he implored firmly, his eyes boring into you. You blinked at him for a long moment, brain trying to wrap around that he was essentially asking you to marry him. Your chest ached with the happiness you felt and you felt your eyes start to sting but you tried to push the tears away. You were rendered mute for a moment in your shock and awe and he looked back to the ring looking uncertain of himself. You cleared your throat, sniffling a little as you held your hand out.

“Are you going to put it on then?” you asked wryly, the emotion in your voice betraying how touched you were by his words and gesture. His eyes snapped back to you then looking almost surprised by your reaction.

“You're… you’re sayin’ yes?” he asked hesitantly. Your face broke into a grin and you wiped a stray tear that had escaped that was rolling down your cheek.

“Of course I am, did you really think I’d say no?” you asked with a snort. The smile that split his face was blinding and made you feel like he’d just shoved you off the roof. He took your hand in his, carefully sliding the ring on your finger.

"I love you," he murmured, smiling at you.

“I love you too,” you grinned, leaning down and kissing him sweetly. He wrapped his arms around you as he kissed you back and suddenly, he’d shifted you and your back hit the sofa with him on top of you. He shot you a devilish smirk and you rolled your eyes good-naturedly.

“It’s too cold for that up here,” you snorted.

“I got ways to warm you up, sweetheart,” he teased with a grin before leaning down and capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

The weight of the ring felt heavy around your finger but it wasn't a negative feeling, it was comforting. You’d grown up being unloved by the people who were supposed to care the most, spent the rest of your life being forgotten by society and shunned for circumstances beyond your control. All your life you’d been shown you were worthless and not worth loving. That you were damaged and you’d declared yourself as too broken to be fixed, passed the point of saving. And then you’d found Billy. He’d slowly put the pieces of you back together as you healed. You weren't perfect, but he treated you like the Japanese art of fixing broken pottery with gold. You’d forever have imperfections and flaws from the life you’d had before, but he sealed every fracture with love and affection that was changing you into a better version of yourself and you hoped you did the same for him. Alone you were both broken, but together, you were now whole.

Taglist: (if you’ve been asked to be tagged and aren’t here, it wouldn’t let me tag some people.)

@firexfate

@blanchedelioncourt

@ariesbutalibra

@sunshinedaisies-anddeath

@snowkestrel

@music-indie-tv

@idaofinfinity

@sweetserendipity65

@ramadiiiisme

@k-marzolf

@celestialams

@woowwwee

#billy russo fanfic #billy russo x reader #billy russo #billy russo imagine

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imabeautifulbutterfly · 2 years

Text

It’s Over - Pt. 7A (Hunter)

Summary: Hunter and Myri enjoy the gala - Part 1. That’s right it’s a two-parter!

A/N: Hello Lovelies,

I know this series was over, however I had a special request on AO3 and it strangely fell in line with this week’s episode of Bad Batch, which I just finished watching! LOL.

I hope you all enjoy this addition.

Love oo. Working on Gym Membership, hoping to have that posted maybe next week or the week after; and I’m still working on the new Bond fic.

Love oo.

Warnings: Mentions of battles, fighting, angst, fluff, mentions of liquor, insults, hurt feelings, accidental domineering attitude, making decisions for others, arguments, I think that’s it. If I miss any warnings, please let me know.

AO3 Link | Words: 4,145 | Previous -> Next Main Masterlist | It’s Over Masterlist

Hunter stood beside the bar, waiting for his, Myri’s and Omega’s drink, he was surprised to see there were a few kids attending the Gala. It made him smile seeing how much fun Omega was having running around and dancing with some of the other kids. His eyes glanced from Omega to Myri, she was sitting at their table talking with Lurwa and Tala, joking and laughing.

Watching her sitting there made his heart swell, to know that this was their family. After all the pain, he and his vode had been through, they finally had a chance to be happy, to live a normal life.

Myri’s eyes locked with Hunter’s, he couldn’t help smile from ear to ear when they locked eyes.

“Your drinks, sir” the droid behind him pulled him from his musings, he nodded his thanks, taking the three drinks and heading towards their table. He placed Myri’s drink in front of her, his smile still present.

As he took his seat, he shifted closer to her, chuckling as she leaned against him. Holding the drink up to Omega, catching her eyes, she nodded in understanding and continued dancing with one of the Senators’ daughters. Hunter wasn’t quite sure which one it was, but he thought it was the Senator from Pantora.

“What’s got you smiling, Hunt?” Lurwa asked as she took a swig from the remnants of her drink.

“Just thinking”

“About?” Tala prompted, raising her eyebrow.

He chuckled, “About how things have changed. Not just the end of the war, but even us, all of us.” He looked at Myri, placing a kiss on her forehead, “Us specifically.”

“When did you two become an item? I was under the impression you two had been dating for a while, but Wrecker told me it only recently happened” Lurwa clarified.

“Oh well, you can blame the delay on this one” Myri motioned to Hunter.

“Excuse me, it takes two my dear” he joked as he wrapped his arm around her.

“That it does” she giggled as she leaned into him.

“So… how did it happen?” Tala asked, her hands propped under her chin, waiting in anticipation for the story.

Myri simply looked at Hunter, smirking, “Well you might as well tell it, since it was your fault.”

“Fine, but you owe me cyar’ika. Anyway, what happened was …

- - - - - - * - - - - - - * - - - - - -

Tech stood in the middle of a now deserted battleground, scorches of blaster residue, along with droid parts littering the field around the five of them.

He stood beside Echo focusing on the transmission he was receiving, now that the danger had been exterminated. He was focusing on making sure the information he was hearing and reading was accurate.

Echo tried and failed several times to gain his attention, it was as though the world around him had stopped existing. He was grateful the fighting had finished, otherwise Tech would’ve been the first to be picked off. Regardless, they needed to keep moving, he finally, resolved to pushing Tech’s arm to get his attention, “Tech, what’s going on? What’s got you so engrossed?”

“It’s over”

It was all he muttered, as he stood there, trying to comprehend the weight of what it meant. Wrecker, Crosshair, and Hunter stopped in their tracks, at what they thought they had heard.

Hunter wondered if what he heard was correct, “What did you say?”

“It’s over. The war. It’s over.”

“How? Did they capture General Grievous?” Wrecker asked, completely forgetting the droid he had ripped in two still in his hands, the battle from a moment ago was now a distant memory, as it been brushed out of their minds at the news.

“It’s not very clear they are saying …” Tech stopped as he straightened at listening to the news, “well that is quite interesting. It appears General Kenobi and General Skywalker have killed Supreme Chancellor Palpatine.”

“Isn’t that treason?” Crosshair’s skepticism ringing through.

“That doesn’t matter right now. What does matter, is what’s happening now. Have they said anything with regards to standing down or proceeding with the ops currently in progress?” Hunter stated, focusing back on the task at hand.

Echo shifted doing his best to focus on the here and now, despite the concern he felt for his former General.

“Nothing is clear at the moment”

“Until we hear confirmation one way or another we have a job to finish. Everyone, get your head back on the mission. We have remnant droids that need to be dealt with. Execute plan Delta 22-Bravo.” Everyone nodded, as they headed towards their assignment, Hunter shifted away from the group, heading towards the rows of trees, where the droids had disappeared to; as much as the speech may have been for his vode, it was just as an important reminder for himself. His mind needed to be focused on his task and not on the possibility of the war ending, and what it could mean for him. For them. For everyone.

“What do you think is up with him?” Wrecker leaned over and asked Echo, the only response he received was a quirked eyebrow. “Is it because of Myri?”

“Wrecker” Crosshair called out, motioning to him to follow the way he was heading. There was no need to guess what was on Hunter’s mind, after all they’d all been there for the explosive argument between Hunter and Medic Myri Kambe.

Myri was interesting enough, she clearly cared about them, they could tell that from the first time they met her, she’d been one of the few medics on Kamino that actually treated them with respect and kindness.

Before they even realized she had seeped into their hearts, she became their vod’ika, they all admired and treasured her, however with Hunter there was definitely something more. Though he denied it every chance he had.

In Wrecker’s word the argument between the two had been absolutely epic, it was a song and dance of their feelings, that everyone knew except for the two of them.

It wasn’t long before they were heading back to the Marauder, receiving instructions to head back to Kamino, apparently everyone was being recalled, for some sort of mandatory general assembly.

- - - - - - * - - - - - - * - - - - - -

“Were you waiting with doe eyes, hoping for Prince Charming to arrive?” Tala chuckled.

“Hardly, I was swamped with paperwork, after all the craziness that happened with the announcement of Palpatine dying, I hardly had a moment to breathe.”

“She was in the middle of a report when we found her on Kamino” Hunter clarified.

- - - - - - * - - - - - - * - - - - - -

Myri was finishing up her report for General Shaak-Ti, after the chaos that had been the past few days, reports were being prioritized. Everyone, was on edge and yet relieved as well. It was making Kamino feel like a ticking time bomb.

She glanced around the room, she tried to remember since she first stepped on to Kamino when were there so little casualties, her mind was lost in thought when the door to med slid open. The sound pulling her out of her musings, she looked over to see her favourite group of guys walking in.

“MYRI!” Wrecker’s booming voice echoed off the med walls, within an instant she stood, rushing over to them, shushing him, glancing around to make sure no one was woken by the boisterous vod.

Wrecker at the same time chuckled, picking her up in his best big brother hug. Squeezing her as tight as possible without hurting her.

“Sorry” he whispered, well what qualified as a whisper for Wrecker, placing her down on the ground as gently as possible.

Crosshair simply nodded a hello, his toothpick shifting from one side to the next.

Echo smiled before shifting his eyes away, still uncomfortable with the droids around the med room, and Tech was adjusting his goggles ready to tell her about everything that happened on their last mission and what new things he learned.

Hunter was the only one who didn’t have any sort of reaction, he simply stood in the back of the group, keeping his distance. He wanted to reach out, to be all jokey with her, but something kept him from fully opening up to her. Their last fight simply amplified how much he hated the distance he seemed to have created between them.

“Oh” Myri clapped her hands, as quietly as possible directing her attention to Wrecker and Echo, lowering her voice, “I was requested to inform the both of you” she pointed to them, “there are some special guests waiting for the two of you specifically, in hangar bay 342-A. I believe they said their mission was partly successful, they needed their welcome home kiss to make it truly successful.”

Before she could even finish Wrecker took off like his kit was on fire, waving and shouting a thank you over his shoulder abandoning his vode without a second thought.

Echo simply shook his head, thanking her properly on behalf of the both of them before following Wrecker’s path, pretending to walk calmly until he was out of sight and then running at full speed.

“What’s so special about the hangar bay?” Cross sneered out

“Tala and Lurwa are waiting for them there”

“Tala’s here?” He looked surprised.

“Mmhmm, they finished their assignment and came here directly” Myri answered somewhat absentmindedly as she moved around the room, organizing . She was doing her best to avoid Hunter, their argument still fresh in her mind.

- - - - - - * - - - - - - * - - - - - -

“Wait, what was the argument you guys had?” Lurwa looked from Myri to Hunter.

“You never told them?” Hunter asked as his hand intertwined with hers.

“No. I was very angry, they were off on missions, and I didn’t exactly want to talk about you.”

“Fair enough” he muttered, raising her hand to his lips, placing the gentlest kiss he could muster, “So what happened was …”

“No. Let me tell this one” Myri smirked, as she looked at him.

“All yours”

- - - - - - * - - - - - - * - - - - - -

The med room felt crowded as Myri walked in after dealing with an injury in one of the training rooms the cadets were using. Omega who had stuck by her side as her med assistant for the day, glanced around smiling as she saw the Bad Batch on each of the med beds, a scowl on each of their faces, clearly none of them wanted to be there.

Myri simply chuckled to herself, it was time for their routine physical after fifty missions. It wasn’t mandatory for anyone, just the Bad Batch.

“Alright boys, I guess it’s that time again, the joys of your physicals. I want to say thank you for coming willingly and not forcing me to hunt you guys down.”

They all simply nodded, they uneasiness of being there affecting each one of them differently. “So who wants to be first?”

Echo simply chuckled, “Good luck” he muttered as he focused on his scomp arm, tweaking it till it felt right.

Tech was too focused on his datapad to really pay attention to anything happening.

Wrecker was busy fixing up the 99 skull mark on his helmet.

Crosshair was polishing his gun, and Hunter was fiddling with his knife.

“I know, you guys hate it, but the faster we get to this, the faster you can go back to your bunks and relax, right?”

“Come on it won’t be as bad as you think” Omega chimed in, Wrecker turned to look at her.

“Omega!” He chuckled as he ran and picked her up, tossing her on to his shoulder, as though it had been the most natural thing for the two of them.

“Wrecker, I have to show you this new move Myri taught me”

“Ohhh, like what…”

“Omega” Myri called her, “We have to focus on the physicals first, then you can show Wrecker what I showed you”

“Yes, Myri” Omega tapped Wrecker’s shoulder, motioning for him to let her down. He begrudgingly put her down, and rolled his eyes. Omega sniffled a laugh, as she moved to stand beside Myri.

“Alright, I know this isn’t fun for anyone, but let’s get this through quickly, who wants to go first?”

Silence lingered in the room for longer then it probably should’ve, Echo stood clearing his throat, “I’ll go first,” she nodded moving to the cubicle he was in, Omega following behind her, they turned on the private screen, going through each process, it was about twenty minutes later when he was all done. They walked out, Omega with a giant smile on her face, “Alright Omega, what do we do when we have an excellent patient?”

She simply chuckled as she ran to Myri’s desk and pulled out a small piece of candy, giving it to Echo, whose eyes examined it carefully with care, “It’s not a bomb Echo” Myri let out exhausted. Every time Echo had to examine it from all sides, smell it, squeeze it, and then slowly unwrap the candy. “It’s a hard candy, tastes like Meiloorun.”

Hunter sat there catching glimpses of Myri as often as he could without being conspicuous, Crosshair had stood and headed to sit beside his vod, while she focused on Wrecker’s physical, “You stare at her anymore, and she’ll be burned into your cornea”

“I’m not staring at her”

“Correct” Tech chimed in, “You are not staring, you are glancing every chance you have.”

“You are both wrong”

“Why don’t you just admit it?” Echo asked as he moved over closer to the other three, keeping his voice down along with theirs.

“There’s nothing to admit”

“Are you sure about that?” Crosshair motioned to Myri, who had stepped out of the room with Wrecker smiling from ear to ear, as Omega told him in detail the procedures Myri had taught her.

“Alright who’s next?”

“Hunter” Cross spoke up.

“Tech should be next, he was electrocuted briefly on the last mission”

“I am perfectly fine”

“I’ll be the judge of that” Myri stated, motioning for Tech to follow her.

“What’re we talkin’ about?” Wrecker glanced among his brothers, as they all had their eyes focused on Hunter.

“The fact that he” Echo motioned towards Hunter, “should just admit what he feels”

“OH! For Myri!”

“Shhhh! Keep your voice down!” Hunter chastised, “There is nothing to admit, do I respect her? Yes. Do I believe she’s an excellent medic? Without a doubt. Do I view her as anything more? No. Now let’s move on.” Hunter stood, moving away from his swarming brothers, only to turn around and find them following him.

“Don’t do that” Cross spoke, “There’s a chance you can be happy with the person you have feelings for, don’t act stupid by not talking to her about it.” He did his best to avoid Echo’s eyes, despite the fact they had both moved on from the night Cross had confessed his feelings to Tala, there was still tension between the two of them.

“If there were feelings, sure” Hunter stated, “However, why would I like someone who is as unappealing as her? Why you guys find her so attractive is beyond me? Myri is annoying, way too happy, and overbearing when it comes to her diagnosis. There is no way anyone in their right mind would look at her with any sort of affection.”

“Is that so?” Myri’s voice cut into the group who had been too focused on their brother to hear the sounds of their footsteps, or Tech’s constant coughing and clearing of his throat to announce their presence.

The group parted leaving Hunter to stand alone and face Myri, there was a disappointed look on her face. Her eyes held the pain she felt from his criticism of her, she simply cleared her throat and motioned for Cross to follow her. The silence that followed as Hunter waited for his turn for his physical, and for the proverbial axe to fall on his neck made a twenty minute exam feel like an eternity.

“Well you all appear very healthy and you are all good to go” Myri turned to head to her office.

Omega was about to chime in that Hunter hadn’t been examined yet, however before she could open her mouth Tech spoke up.

“Hunter hasn’t been examined yet?”

Myri stopped in her tracks and turned to look at Hunter, her eyes narrowing in on him, “Oh, I’m sure there’s nothing but a good nights rest won’t fix, after all who would want an annoying, overbearing, and extremely friendly medic to care for them. I’m sure if there is anything injured or about to fall off, one of you or one of the many other medics can take care of it?”

“Myri…” Hunter stepped forward, panic setting in his heart, “I …”

“You …” her foot tapped against the floor as the anger pushed and coursed its way through every fibre of her being, “You what? You’re annoyed that I’m not doing my job? Or do you find my refusal to be overbearingly difficult to move on from? Or I know maybe I’m just not worthy of anyone to look upon me in any fond manner?”

“You don’t understand…”

“Oh, I don’t understand? No. No. You seem to think that just because I’m not out in the field, or just because I’m a medic I should have to tolerate your abuses, and derogatory remarks. Let me explain something to you, I’m happy because I enjoy my work. I try my best to be friendly with everyone in this godforsaken place because at least once in everyone’s life they can look back at our interactions with fondness, and it might be the only happy memory they have, while they’re out fighting for some stupid ridiculous reason. Overbearing? I make sure to do my job to the best of my abilities, and that includes making sure that each and every one of my patients follow through on their remedies. Have I ever treated you with any kind of disrespect?”

Silence filled the room, Omega was uncomfortable with the tension that was filling every corner and did her best to hid behind Wrecker.

“Answer me!”

“No” Hunter let out barely audible.

“Have I ever made you feel that somehow I was mocking you? That you were unworthy of being valued or viewed as a decent person?”

“No” once again his answer was barely audible.

“Then why? Why do you think it’s okay to talk about me like that behind my back? And in my own med!”

He didn’t answer, the guilt and shame he felt for avoiding the real issue ate away at him, he wanted to apologize, to say so many things he should have but before he got the words right, she walked away, calling Omega to follow her over her shoulder.

- - - - - - * - - - - - - * - - - - - -

Lurwa and Tala simply sat there with wide eyes as they looked at Hunter, neither saying anything for the better part of a minute.

“I’m sorry” Tala cleared her throat, “You said what!”

“Oh hunny, I know you must have had a screw loose at that moment; and you best be glad you did not speak to me in that way, just ask Wrecker if you have any doubt.”

“Trust me, I regretted it the moment I opened my mouth and looked into Myri’s eyes; I regretted it every second of every day.”

- - - - - - * - - - - - - * - - - - - -

Hunter cleared his throat getting Crosshair’s attention motioning over his shoulder, Cross simply smirking, understanding his vod better than most, he nodded as he flicked Tech’s elbow. Without any further, the two slinked out without making a noise.

Hunter had his helmet in his hand, fidgeting with the rim of his helmet, doing his best to muster up the courage to speak. They hadn’t spoken since their argument.

He sent numerous data streams apologizing for his disrespect and for the hurt he caused her. He tried comming her, sending holomessages, even a written letter on flimsy he entrusted to an injured trooper, each medium he used was left unanswered. The only response he had received was the confirmation of delivery, whether it was read or not was beyond his scope of knowledge, and he didn’t want to go to Tech asking him to hack into her system to see whether she’d read them.

“Tech you were going to tell me about what you had discovered on your mission” she asked over her shoulder as she went to grab a datapad she needed Tech to look over.

“Unfortunately, Tech and Cross took off.”

She didn’t respond, simply remained as still as possible at his statement, she hadn’t expected them to leave her alone with Hunter.

He cleared his throat, shifting his weight from side to side, trying to find a way to break the ice between them “I imagine things have been crazy the last week, since the news of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine dying was announced.”

Myri stopped what she was doing. Closing her eyes, listening to his voice, it was the one voice she could easily identify amongst a sea of voices. She’d be lying if she said her heart never skipped a beat for him, from the moment she met him, he held a special place in her heart. From the way he looked after Omega, his brothers, and even the few times he’s stepped in to take care of her, every time his actions would chip away another layer of the wall she had put up to guard herself.

Hearing him say all those things about her, just as they got back from an assignment, hurt a lot more than she ever could’ve imagined. They hadn’t seen her for almost 132 rotations, and the first thought that came into his mind were words that cut to the bone. It hurt even more when they were given another assignment just as soon as they were medically cleared. He hadn’t even tried to apologize or offer up an explanation before he left, he didn’t even attempt to see her.

She didn’t respond to his statement, for what was there to say, of course things were crazy. Why wouldn’t they be?

Hunter let out a sigh hoping to get some reaction out of her, “Are you going to the general assembly they called for tomorrow?”

She gave a simple nod, it was a mandatory assembly, of course she would go, why did she need to explain more?

“I imagine things might be different after tomorrow” Hunter wanted to finish the sentence by saying ‘between the two of us,’ but that would’ve been overstepping. Although, he allowed his mind to wonder about the possibility, could there be a time in the future when he could just tell her the truth about what he felt?

She didn’t respond, simply moving around the room, doing her best not to look at him.

He placed the helmet on the table beside him, he took in a deep breath and clenched his hands by his side hoping to actually say the words he needed to. Why this was so difficult for him, was baffling his mind completely.

“I know you are incredibly angry with me right now” Hunter ran his fingers through his hair, at least he got something out, “there are not enough words in any language to truly convey how deeply sorry I am for what I said that day.”

She shuffled over to her storage cabinet, doing her best to appear not to be affected by his words, however, the truth was she didn’t want Hunter to see her face, it was a mixture of anger and pain, as the welled up tears forced their way to the surface.

“You don’t have to say anything” he offered quickly, regardless of how much he wanted to hear her voice, to hear her laugh, to see her eyes shine the way they did when she only looked at him; he was the one at fault and the one that needed to make amends, not her. “I know I hurt you, the minute I said those horrible things I knew it was a mistake. I’ve been regretting it since the moment my mouth opened and all of it came spilling out.”

‘Then why did you say them?’ Was the question she wanted to ask but no matter how hard she tried to open her mouth, her jaw wouldn’t cooperate. She braced herself against the counter, letting her head drop between her shoulders, if Hunter was watching her, as she imagined he was, he’d known how much pain she really was in.

There were many things she realized after that day, first no matter how much she admired him, he clearly didn’t feel the same way about her. He respected her for her skill and that was about it. The second thing she realized was the fact she actually had feelings for him, not just a crush as she kept trying to fool herself, but real genuine feelings. The final thing, there was no way anything could possibly happen between the two of them.

“A few things have become clear to me since that day” he took in a deep breath and took one step towards her, though he couldn’t see her face, his senses could tell she was crying, seeing her shoulders so tense, and the fact she completely gave up the pretence of working. The pain he felt in his heart was no where near close to the pain she was feeling at the moment, he knew he was the only one to blame for all of it. “First, I realized what a collasal sheb (ass) I’ve been, as Crosshair likes to remind me.”

He took another step towards her, “That day the guys were harassing and hounding me to my wits end about …” he wondered if this was a good a time as any to confess what was lurking in his heart, what had been more than lurking, it had set up base camp, made a home and overwhelmed his heart completely.

“About?” Myri’s voice was low and quivering as she mustered up the energy to utter at least one word.

Hunter’s heart swelled at hearing her voice, maybe he was jumping the gun a little, but at least at that moment she had finally began to open up, she finally started to acknowledge not only his presence but what he was saying.

“About you”

Myri let out a light gasp, her head raised at his two words, she still wasn’t ready to look at him, but she was ready to a least hear what he had to say.

“You see …” he took another step forward, closing the distance between the two of them, “for a long time, I refused to admit something that was painfully obvious to everyone else. It wasn’t because I was ashamed …” he shifted a little before he took another step, “it’s because I was scared, and they were doing their best, in their own overbearing way, to help me realize I had nothing to be scared about.”

She wanted to hear him talk, to listen the timber of his voice, but right now she needed him to get to the point, she wiped away the tears that escaped down her cheek, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about how I felt about you since the moment I met you. What I said, what I called you …” Hunter let out a deep sorrowful sigh as he took another step closer, “I didn’t mean any of it, it’s not an excuse and I know it’s a poor apology, but the truth is I was scared admitting my feelings for you. Which is why I choose to hide what I really felt. I thought if I was cruel enough, then my vode would leave me alone; then you wouldn’t …”

Myri shifted her head slightly to catch a glimpse of him standing three feet away from her, she wondered when he had moved that close to her, his hair looked a mess, his eyes were full of sadness, regret and pain.

“I wouldn’t?”

“Wouldn’t have learned about how I felt, how I’ve always felt, and you wouldn’t have needed to reject me, I wouldn’t have needed to hear you tell me though you appreciate my friendship, you simply couldn’t give me your heart.”

She fully turned to face him, disbelief and shock written across her face, he actually had feelings for her? What the what! She shook her head, running her hands over her face, trying to understand what kind of nonsense he had in his head.

“Are you an idiot?” The words flew out of her mouth before she could even stop them, she cleared her throat, wiping away a tear that had still remained, “What I meant to say was, what do you want me to say? What do you want from me? To forgive? To understand what you are trying to say? To just agree with you? To dismiss what you said? What do you want for me to do?”

Hunter couldn’t quite meet her eyes, no matter how much he wanted to look into them, “Nothing”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t want anything from you”

She bit her lip keeping herself from screaming her head off at the man, “Let me get this straight” she held up her hand, not so much as telling him to stop, but rather to calm herself down, “you are just making decisions for the both of us.”

“I’m not making decisions”

“Oh no?” Myri took a step forward, “You told me you had feelings for me, but you don’t want me to know, don’t want me to react, don’t want me to accept you. Isn’t that in itself making a decision for me?”

“No”

“Explain that to me, exactly how is that not making a decision?”

He let out a deep sigh, “I have a right not to tell you about my own feelings, Kambe. I also have a right not to listen to the rejection. I knew you’d reject me, I knew you’d wouldn’t want me, so what more is there to say?”

Myri shook her head scoffing at his statement, “You really are an arrogant sheb as Cross says”

“Cross?” Hearing his brother’s name on her lips irritated him, even though he knew he had no right to feel irritated, she wasn’t his. She wasn’t anything. Just their medic.

“Yeah, Cross told me how much of an arrogant jackass you can be at times, especially when it has to do with your own opinion on matters. You always think you know what’s the best thing for everyone, don’t you. Wether that’s for your vode, for yourself, for me, even for Omega, right? Well let me explain something to you” Myri took another step closer only about an arms length away from him, “that’s not how the real world works. You don’t just get to tell me something and then expect me to go along with your own decisions and actions, without the opportunity to speak or give you my opinion on the situation. You don’t get to call me names, say hurtful things about me, because you’re too scared to realize that there’s the possibility of a future in front of you, and you certainly don’t get to come back and apologize to me, telling me that at the end you want nothing from me. I am allowed to express my feelings too, and I’m allowed to tell you that I thought you were the most amazing person I had ever met. I thought you were everything I could’ve wanted in a partner, someone who was willing to listen, to step up, to look after all of us, and yet when I needed you to look after me the most, to give me a chance to actually voice my opinion you shut me down!”

“Thought I was everything?”

“Yeah” Myri’s voice went quiet, “thought you were everything.”

Hunter couldn’t believe what he heard, she had feelings for him, she wanted him as much as he wanted her, how could he have gotten it so wrong. He took a step forward, reaching his hand out to her, hoping he could find some way back from the giant Wrecker-sized mistake he just made. However, before he could even reach her, Myri took a step back.

“Myri?”

She shook her head, “I need … I need space and I need time to … to decide if you are still what I want. If I want to be with someone who doesn’t take any of my opinions and feelings into consideration. I just need space.”

Hunter simply nodded, he turned, picked up his helmet and walked out of the med cursing himself all the way back to the bunker. Why didn’t he listen to his brothers! Why hadn’t he just express his feelings without the idea of trying to control everything!

As soon as he walked in to the barracks, he tossed his helmet on to the communal table and hurling himself on to his bunk, throwing his arm over his eyes. He wanted to be alone and yet he didn’t. He wanted to be comforted and didn’t want anyone to talk to him.

His brothers shot glances to one another, wandering if any one of them would get up and speak to Hunter. Tech glanced around, and was getting ready to stand up and move away from his current project, when Crosshair shook his head ‘no,’ and stood from his seat. He slowly moved over to his brother’s bunk, leaning his forearm against the top, shifting the toothpick in his mouth from one side to the other.

“Take it, it didn’t go well?”

Hunter shifted his arm, glaring at his brother, “Crosshair, you have five seconds to move away from this bunk”

“Listen, you can’t take it that hard. After all you weren’t exactly going to be opening up your arms for her, were you?”

“Cross, final warning!”

Echo came over, pushing Cross away, “Give it time, Hunter. Explain how you truly feel, explain how you acted rashly and without thought.”

“That’s not the issue”

“Then what is?”

“I didn’t give her a chance to be with me, and now … now she may never want to be with me.”

“Then remind her, that she should be with you. Show her that you made a horrible mistake and all you want is to be my her side.”

Hunter moved his arm away completely, “How?”

“Give her a few days, after the announcement tomorrow, tell her exactly how you feel, not what you expect, not what you think you should expect, just what you feel. Tell her the decision is hers with how she wants to proceed between the two of you.”

“What if she doesn’t want me?”

“Then that’s the consequence you have to bear due to your actions. You’re a great leader, Hunter, but you can’t always assume you know what’s best for everyone. Be open and honest, don’t be a Sergeant, be you. I’m sure she’ll come around.”

Echo patted Hunter’s shoulder, and headed out of the bunk room to meet Tala.

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oddlyhale · 1 year

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I think the first place I'd really like to rewrite/reconstruct is Vale and Patch. Since other maps of Remnant seem to always forget that Patch exists, I decided that the place should be merged with Vale as a waterside village.

Patch is a small community that would have a unique design to it. Patch would be built upon an old fort landmark that's been lost to history. I was playing Oblivion and remembered Border Watch has a very unique structure compared to other villages you'd find throughout Cyrodiil.

I did a vid capture of my gameplay (the collision is off, that's why you can hear my character running on air lol):

So, this is what I would base the new Patch off of. The old stairway in the middle of the village is Patch's unique character trait. I do plan to expand it out more, add more houses and start creating more neighbors that Ruby and Yang know.

Patch could have a trail behind the village that leads towards a Great Forest, somewhere that the children have been forbidden to go to. In front of the village (down the stairway and a little ways away) is the waterside where the villagers fish or use their boats.

I really like the idea that Ruby, Yang, and Tai live in a tight-knit community that they need to contribute to as a community-family. Tai could be one of the farmers that tends the sheepfold and other livestock. I'm also gonna create a village leader because tbh they would need someone to speak for them as a whole. Perhaps Tai could be the second-in-command.

The village would also have its own defenders, for Patch isn't free from Grimm attacks. While it's not often, it can be crazy when they do appear. Ruby is inspired by the defenders to become a Huntress, being saved by them once and wanting to learn how to defend herself.

Patch could also have their own inn for travelers because it's not hard to find Patch, especially if you're using the waterline, and most travelers would want to take a break somewhere. Patch Inn, lol.

Patch wouldn't look 100% like Border Watch, but it's a basis.

They have a rule, specifically for Ruby, that she's not allowed to speed through the village because it could cause a mess.

#rwby rewrite #vale and patch

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arionawrites · 8 months

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arionawrites updated writeblr intro

who the hell am i?

my name is ariona! i also go by ari (common nickname), rio (occasional nickname), and whatever the hell else people wanna call me (within reason). fun fact, my childhood nickname was bird because when i started talking i apparently sounded like a parrot (:

i’m in my mid-twenties (23 as of posting this; turning 24 in march!) and i have been writing since i was in the second grade, or about 7-8 years old. i’ve wanted to be a published author since the fourth grade (10 years old). i have yet to achieve that “published” thing, but i’m working towards it every day and am hoping to have something published somewhere by the time i’m 25 (or while i’m 25, i’m not too picky lol)

i’m a chronically ill lesbian who tries to include type one diabetic characters in everything i write and almost exclusively write queer characters.

i currently work in before and after school childcare, though i am in the process of finding a new job that provides me better stability as well as the time to be able to focus on my writing more. my hope is some kind of office job, or, even better, something in a library!

what kind of things do i write?

it honestly depends on the vibes, man. i’m happy to write (almost) every genre so long as i have a story idea that fits it that i want to write. however, i do have some common things that i tend to write more often than the rest, such as:

queer romance (usually the romance part is not the primary focus, though i do have a sapphic romance novel in the works)

modern fantasy

coming of age

found family

complex and complicated family dynamics

i also have a tendency to post weird little ramble-y thought pieces in random points in time (would it count as poetry? i honestly don’t know). if you’re interested to seeing any of it, my writing tag is #ariwrites !! i’ll add the tag to this post as well for convenience sake!

what projects do i currently have?

so, here’s the thing: i struggle with completing things and tend to have a bunch of new ideas and kind of leave old ideas in the dust. because of this, i’ve decided to take almost all of my current projects and scrap them? actually, scrap isn’t the right word - i’m starting from scratch with a majority of them! i think there are some ideas that i can actually combine into one story rather than them being separate, and a lot of it is just a kind of conglomerated mess that i am in the process of detangling in order to move forward in a more coherent and structured way. however, i do have two projects that i am not starting from complete scratch. i am remaking the outlines for these two stories, though, and then rewriting them from the beginning!

here are those two projects:

rotten

a zombie apocalypse scenario that i originally started writing as a nanowrimo project in 2022 that i did not complete. matter of fact, i only got a couple of chapters in before the spark fizzled out. however, i love the characters i have created and the bones of the story i had in mind, which is why i am choosing to restructure the outline and try again. it will likely change quite a bit as i remake the outline and iron out the details in new ways, but the basic breakdown of the story is this: it’s three years into an apocalypse that has left a mere remnant of humanity in its wake. we have a cast of four main characters (maybe six, depending on how you look at it). one is an older brother taking care of his siblings, both of whom have yet to reach double digits in age. one is a grumpy pessimist who thinks it’s pointless building bonds when everyone else she knew before is almost definitely dead and anyone else she meets will end up dead, too. one is a former optimist who has been weighed down by the realism the apocalypse has forced upon him, who hates being alone (being lonely) but has been betrayed by every single person he has come across since the fight to survive began, and he doesn’t really know what to do about that anymore. one was raised privileged and pampered by a paranoid and eccentric millionaire who was also absolutely certain that doomsday was inevitable (hey, turns out he was right!) and therefore raised his daughter teaching her every survival skill he could and preparing her for the worst, so she is, realistically, the best person to have on your side in an apocalypse—and yet she has been alone the entirety of the three years. all of them are queer and all of them will have to learn that they can rely on one another after stumbling into each other’s lives. also, despite only one of them being the older brother of those kids, the other three will eventually come to an agreement that they would burn the rest of what’s left of the world if it meant keeping them warm, so that’s cool, i guess.

hot chocolate

this is the sapphic romance novel i mentioned above! started writing it on a whim with literally zero plan for it last year, made it my camp nano project, and somehow managed to hit 30k words before the lack of preparation caught up with me. the title is a working title and might change upon the rewrite, but i absolutely adore this story so far and am very excited to get an outline busted out so that i can get back to writing it. the breakdown is this: mallory james moves in with her big brother when she’s eighteen. it’s the summer after her graduation and every single plan that she had for her future has been rendered pointless and now she’s trying to find her footing in a life that is completely different from the one she had been living only a few months ago. her brother, eddie, is going to do his best to be there for her and help her heal, but mallory doesn’t want to heal. she doesn’t even want to acknowledge that there’s anything she needs to heal from. unsure of what to do next, she enrolls in the local community college and meets a few people who somehow manage to become her kinda sorta friends — ellie, ash, and bee. featuring sapphic love, healing from loss and family trauma, finding stability and reason in an unexpected place, and a side character who is definitely polyamorous but entirely unaware that that’s a thing he’s able to be.

alright, i think that’s all i want to put here! i’ll definitely edit this with updates as information changes and as old projects become new again and things like that, but it’s a new year (the fact that i’m posting this in february is absolutely not important at all) and i’m trying to make ‘24 something worthwhile. if you’ve read this far, thank you so much and i hope everyone is having an incredible day/night !!

#writeblr #writblr #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #writeblr introduction #writeblr intro #aritalks #ariwrites #lowkey not the biggest fact of the way i formatted this but i’m too lazy to remake it rn so i’ll leave it as is for now and redo it later

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ladyhoneydee · 11 months

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30 Day Song(fic) Challenge: Day 14

Hi hi! Being late seems to be my new normal, but given that I haven't slept yet, it still feels like the 14th to me, lol. Today's Song(fic) Challenge prompt was "a song you think is underrated", and I chose "Grilled Cheese" by Peach Face. It's a dreamy song (with a very fun finger-snap beat in the background) about the early period of a relationship, and so I sought to capture those feelings!

Please note that this fic references past sexual activity, but nothing at all explicit! The most that happens is some suggestive dialogue and one single line mentioning the touching of a male chest. Still, if that bothers you, you may want to skip this one! (Also, if anyone thinks that this should be rated M instead of T, please let me know.)

halfway (to something that you'll never find)

Game: Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom

Pairing: Zelink

Word Count: 1905

Keywords: Modern AU, waking up together, romantic fluff

To be honest, Zelda really had no clue how she had found this. For all intents and purposes, it should be impossible to just stumble across a man who would share his nights without judgment nor the expectation of more; a lover who made sure of her happiness as well as her pleasure; a friend who she had just as much fun splitting a sandwich with as in the sack. Statistically, the odds were astronomical. And yet…here they were. Taking their sweet time as they wandered into love.

Read the fic on AO3, or under the cut!

Zelda woke with the coming of the light.

Link’s bedroom windows faced west, and so, heavy sleeper that he was, he never bothered to draw his sage-green curtains at night. She wasn’t sure why he even had them, honestly. He’d never once covered the windows up while she’d been over at his apartment, even during sex. She supposed it made sense—the view from his eighth-floor apartment was one of his favorite things about living in Castleton, and it was true that no one would ever be able to see them entwined on the mattress. Still, Zelda was a light sleeper, and even the ambient light from his window was enough to stir her.

Link’s arm lay draped over her waist as he spooned her from behind, and she pretended that the easy possessiveness—the good kind, not ‘you are my property’, but ‘I want to keep you close’—didn’t send a sparking thrill to her stomach. It wasn’t that it was too soon for that kind of excitement, with how many months they’d spent sleeping over in one another’s apartments and meeting for random meals since that first encounter at the bar, but…she didn’t want to push it.

Zelda scooted over an inch and rolled from her side onto her stomach. Link’s arm fell heavily across her back, and she smirked at the dead weight before reaching for her slate.

No notifications. Just the way she liked it, when she was over at Link’s. Although she did need to head out in about half an hour so she could meet Riju for coffee. Eight-thirty in the morning was pretty early for plans, but Riju was still entangled in the depths of her senior year, so Zelda couldn’t begrudge her the weird timing. Hers had been even worse last spring, after all, when she was putting the finishing touches on her master’s thesis.

Satisfied that she wasn’t missing anything important, Zelda tucked her slate back under the pillow—oh. She froze, before a smile slowly crept over her face.

Once again, she’d fallen asleep with her makeup on, and the last remnants of her berry lipstick and smokey bronze eyeshadow were decorating Link’s striped pillowcases. Good thing he’d just set out her usual one last night before they got in bed.

She probably shouldn’t be so elated at having ruined one of Link’s pillowcases so thoroughly and repeatedly, but how else was she supposed to feel when that meant that one of his pillowcases was basically hers?

She turned around to face him. In sleep, Link’s face was open and relaxed. His hair was a disheveled, wheat-colored mess that was half pinned beneath her own head. It was lucky that he hadn’t been out that night as well, before she came over, or else his own pillowcase might’ve been marked with that forest-green eyeliner he favored. His eyes weren’t twitching beneath his lids, which meant he was at a lull in his REM cycle.

Perfect. That meant it was a fine time to kiss him awake.

She started with his face, peppering the lightest of pecks along his cheekbones, before drifting to his jawline. Link was slow to grow facial hair, and so her lips smoothed across the skin without any friction to inhibit her trajectory.

When she began a long, slow, suckling sort of kiss at the sensitive place where the underside of the right side of his jaw met his neck, he began to stir. First with the slightest roll towards her, seeking the sweet, soft pleasure of her mouth, and then with a stretching arching of his back that made her wish she had more than ten more minutes to spend in bed with him. She knew the moment he woke: he stiffened the slightest bit, then melted under her lips, and then reached a hand up to cradle the back of her own bedhead.

“Good morning to you too,” he whispered, voice roughened with sleep.

She hummed into his skin in response. Link soaked up her touch for another moment, before shifting his hand to cup her chin, and gently guiding it in the direction of his face. She pressed one last rebellious kiss into his skin, before following his lead.

His mouth tasted sour with morning breath, and she was sure hers was no better. She adored the realness of it.

Her eyelids fluttered open slowly, taking her time in this warm cocoon. Link was already gazing at her, lips curved in the sweetest of smiles. When he looked at her like that, she…well. She felt a lot better about the ever-increasing intensity of her own feelings toward him, that was for sure.

“I have to get up soon,” she singsonged. Her tone was teasing, as though he was the one who would be crushed by this news, but she felt a pang in her own chest at her words. Truth be told, she never wanted to leave this bed.

Link played along, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her atop his chest. “Not if I hold you right here.”

“Mm, I think I could get out pretty easily if I wanted to.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Never breaking eye contact, she stroked one hand slowly and deliberately down his chest. “We both know how quickly I can get you to sing for me. Once you’re distracted…”

“Or you could just stay the whole time.” Link grinned, but she didn’t miss the way his pupils had dilated at her touch.

“I do prefer taking my sweet time, it’s true.” She indulged herself in the tracing of his lips, and the way they parted under her touch. “But…it’s still early. We wouldn’t want to wake the neighbors.”

Like ripping off a band-aid, she pulled herself free of Link’s arms—he’d never cage her against her will—and swung her legs off of the bed. For all her teasing of Link, she’d never actually flake on Riju like that. The girl was practically a little sister to her, after all.

Link groaned, but followed her up willingly. As she yanked the flared pants she’d worn the night before over her hips, he passed her black strappy tank over as well, which had ended up on his side of the bed. She returned the favor with a beatific smile.

“Are you sure you won’t be cold? You weren’t wearing a coat last night when you came over, and it’s chilly out this morning.”

Fair point. Zelda’s arms were already prickling with goosebumps. “Yeah, but…” She shrugged. “Guess I’ll just have to deal. Not very wise of me to go out without a layer, huh?”

Link’s voice was carefully controlled as he picked at the corner of the quilt on his side of the bed. “You could borrow one of my hoodies, if you wanted. I don’t mind.”

His hoodie! Link was a nice guy, with a lot of clothes, and it wasn’t a stretch that he would lend clothes to any friend in need. But she couldn’t help but be thrilled at the offer of a hoodie. It was such a boyfrie—no, she better not even think it, else she risk jinxing it.

“Yeah, sure,” Zelda answered, cool as a cucumber. “I could do with dressing down my outfit, anyway.”

“I’ll find something that looks nice with your pants.” He disappeared off towards his closet, and Zelda took the opportunity to put her socks and shoes on. Thank Hylia she’d worn boots instead of heels the night before.

Before long, Link returned, handing over a soft, thick black hoodie bedazzled with golden designs. “It should be nice and warm. Developed by Embr Labs over in Eldin.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “Supposed to provide the sensation that you’re right next to the volcano.”

“Aw, Link, it’s so nice!” Zelda pouted. “Now I’d feel bad if I stole it.”

Link laughed. “Damn right! I expect a prompt return.” He watched as she pulled the garment over her head and gave a shiver of delight at the coziness. “Flip up the hood,” he suggested.

She did, and gave a laugh of delight. “Are these dragon horns?” She petted the plush prongs lightly. “That’s so cute. Now I’m really going to have to buy myself one.”

“Super cute,” Link agreed, a soft smile on his face.

Zelda looked down, flustered. “Well, I ought to head out,” she hedged. She tipped the hood back off of her head carefully. “Riju’s gonna yell at me for being late if I miss my train.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course!” Link rubbed the back of his head. “I’ll walk you out.”

At the door, Link opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it again, apparently changing his mind. “Have a nice coffee date with Riju!” he said instead. “If you want to hang out again sometime soon, just give a whistle.”

“Same to you! Enjoy your day off.” Zelda bit her lip, and before she could lose her nerve, leaned in and planted a kiss on Link’s cheek.

The last glimpse she caught of him before heading out the door was of his blue eyes wide, hand pressed to his cheek. The image lingered in her mind as she descended the stairs, exited the apartment building, and headed west for the nearest train station. It was only interrupted when, keen to protect the back of her neck from the chilly morning air, she flipped up the hood again and realized she’d forgotten her earrings back on Link’s bedside table.

“Stupid, Zelda. So distracted with—wait.” She paused in her self-flagellation. Come to think of it…

She pulled out her slate.

Zelda: Turns out I forgot my earrings at your place? They’re amethyst and gold. Should be on the bedside table.

Zelda: Could I come over again to pick them after I’m done with Riju? I could return your hoodie then too, since my apartment isn’t far from the coffee shop and I could change into some fresh clothes then.

Zelda: Maybe we could have lunch, too. You could make us that mushroom tomato stew and some grilled cheeses. They’re not the same at home… :3

Link: yeah they’re here!

Link: sounds perfect

Link: see you at 11 <3

Link: whoops idk why the heart sent!

Zelda laughed out loud and nearly ran into one of the train station poles. Link might have no idea why the heart sent, but she had a clue. No two-character emoticon could be written ‘accidentally’.

Hylia, he was cute. Maybe over lunch, she’d finally ask if he wanted to take their unspoken mutual desires and make something official out of it. She had a feeling it would go all right. Everything had so far, at least, and she didn’t see why that would have reason to change. They were still Link and Zelda, after all.

She stepped onto her train just as the doors whished closed, with a smile on her face.

#loz #zelink #breath of the wild #botw #tears of the kingdom #totk #loz fanfic #botw zelink #my fanfiction #30 day song(fic) challenge

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