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noblehcart · 1 year

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what are some of your favorite ships with your oc? -For Liesel and Stefan <3 <3

ORIGINAL CHARACTER QUESTIONS & HEADCANONS @myhiraeth

OKAY SO, I will say this first that what's listed below is in no particular order of most to least. Nor is it all my ships which I adore all of them, but these ships are the ones I get to do/write/talk about most.

SO FIRST OFF WE'RE STARTING WITH YOU SINCE U SENT THE ASK-

JASON & LIESEL- Were our first ship?? AND BOY DOES IT SLAP. I love love Jaseliese for each other because its that sweet niche of misunderstood almost-bad boy and soft nerd girl. They have this fantastic I love you despite what anyone says because we know this love is RARE. I think I will always be able to think of new aus for them because they have new mountains to climb together which make it so much fun and I adore them so much. I feel like they recognize each other's selves in each other (if that makes sense) like if things had worked out differently they could've been each other as well because they're both soft hearted, fierce for those they love and love lit that had things been switched they'd be each other still and value what they see in the other. I just adore them ok ok??

STYXX & LIESEL- ok HERES MY THING THO....how tf did Styxx and Liese meet???? YEAH I DONT KNOW EITHER BUT WE BOTH KNOW THAT THEY WORK. Styxxliese is a match made in heaven. Sheer perfection. What was their first date? IDK. Who kissed who first? IDK? But we do know what their apartment looks like, what their wedding looks like, what they look like together lounging....WE SET UP EVERYTHING ELSE but the beginnings and i fuckin love it. THAT IS WHEN U KNOW IT MESHES. It just *works*. He has enough heart and wisdom and hope in humanity and sees the best of it in her and she sees this kind, wise and hopeful person who has every reason not to be and they just love each other for it.

STEFAN & CERCI- OUR EMOTIONALLY COMPROMISED CHILDREN. Ah, steferci, I could write a thesis about but I won't because this would be a ridiculously long post. Stefan and Cerci had that immediate styxxliese like connection that I'm like 99% certain that within 3x of meeting they were already half in love. Their chemistry is off the charts and they're steely walls just melt for each other. I cannot believe how quickly this came together but I am so here for it. He's just turned this emotionally repressed soldier into a puddle for her. They love each other for their flaws and appreciate their strengths and admire in the other what they do not have themselves and its fantastic- I LOVE it.

@lordofthestrix

TRISTAN & LIESEL- They were NOT supposed to be a ship. I went into their interactions with the full intention of 'i'm lucky that he wants to ship with olga and that's all.' and yet here we are deep into the multiverse of alternate universes for these two. I don't know how that happened and I still don't know how Tristan isn't thoroughly irritated with Liesel yet, but here we are with her ready to destroy an imperial family and revolutionize a country to maintain a timeline to save the future she has with him. If that's note love I don't know what is? Tristliese is this wonderfully fun and complex ship that always keeps me on my toes and has been such an amazing delightful ride of creativity.

@paramounticebound

KHAN & LIESEL- Were absolutely not supposed to be a ship on my end of things IDK about you, but for me I absolutely didn't intend for this ship. Everyone wants to ship with a villain and I thought it'd be much more fun to befriend the villain. To see the push and pull of these two very intelligent characters on complete opposite ends of the spectrum....and yet HERE WE ARE. I was so sURE he was going to shoot her out an airlock and we are waist deep in aus and them being ridiculously passionately gravitationally drawn to each other which is so *fascinating* to me. I loove the sharp contrast of his intensity and her softness, his intention and her caution. They're this fantastic polar opposite spectrum of a relationship that is absolutely WONDERFUL. I cannot wait to see where else we take them.

@holyguardian

AERITH & LIESEL- OKAY BUT....this ship has ALWAYS STUCK WITH ME and its the most chaotic and fun thing. Like I never ever expected Liese to have a girlfriend because she swings 98% of the time for the boys, but Aerith has that voodoo and Liesel adores her. SO MUCH. And I know we haven't talked about them *that* much but its something that lives rent free in my brain 24/7 because I just love all the details we pulled out together for them as a couple. How they dress, how they shop, how they take care of each other and its just so WHOLESOMELY CHAOTIC that I had to throw it here in the list <3

@walkingshcdow

RAHADIN & LIESEL- okay so we have had SO MANY ships over the years and especially with Liesel that I can't just pick one from our bajillion so since I know you're mostly dnd oriented I thought I'd toss these two out here. Rahadin and Liesel have such a fantastic slow burn that I absolutely love no matter what AU its in. I think the only AU where they don't slowburn is Selkie au for obvious reasons. Liesel loves the soft soul that is still there willfully beating in his chest and he admires her for managing to keep that same softness in a world like Barovia where there's little compassion to be had. They're a fantastic couple.

#myhiraeth

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eggtrolls · 1 year

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5, 10, 15 for the book ask :)

ach, thank you fraulein :D

5. where do you buy books?

mostly from some of the more fun used bookstores in NY, i.e. Freebird Books down in Red Hook that's only open on the weekends. I have such a long reading list that I'm very rarely in a rush to get anyone's new book but if I do, it's gonna be from the McNally Jackson Prince Street location in Soho. I also tend to shop by publisher once I vote that I like their style if it's an author I haven't heard of so Peirene Press, Archipelago Books, Tilted Axis, etc. are ones that I'll buy from online. But honestly 95% of my books come from either the public library or whatever I can swindle with my university access.

10. do you have a guilty fav?

Naur such thing as a guilty fave if it's a fave. For a non-serious book, I really like Hercule Poirot (I'm about half way through the full list of Poirot novels) and the Murder of Roger Ackryod made me gasp with !!! when the twist hit. The Maltese Falcon is also very good if you can find the egregious stereotyping of every kind of non-WASP character (JOE CAIRO MY BELOVED) camp and funny.

15. recommend and review a book.

I'm going to adjust for inflation and give you two.

15a) FLIGHTS BY OLGA TOKARCZUK!!!!! The section of the older guy on the cruise ship having a stroke where the blood is physically flooding through his memories and the physical space of his mind actually took my breath away. I have flown so much and the way she described that unsettling, liminal space that you're both leaning into and away from. Oof.

15b) The Messiah of Stockholm by Cynthia Ozick. Honestly, everything by Cynthia Ozick. I read The Messiah (and S. Yizhak's Khirbet Khizeh) based off of Adam Kirsch's The Blessing and Curse which is an overview of contemporary Jewish literature and it was had me by the throat - memory and language and identity and constructed narratives. Ough. Cynthia.

#ask game #fireplaceambience

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scout-company · 1 year

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Atlas—Chapter 9: Do Something

“Alice?” Olga blinks after a long moment of silence.

The only movement Alice makes is ducking her head slightly into her narrow shoulders and taking a silent breath. She doesn’t even acknowledge Scout’s bewildered look.

One of the Humans from around the campfire, a man with short blond hair tucked under a white cap, maybe slightly older than Olga, stands up and strides over while demanding, “Alice Dewitt, did you sneak out of camp again?”

Alice ducks her head into her shoulders another half inch, tucking her chin into her scarf. She mutters a small, “…Maybe,” while pointedly avoiding the man’s stern gaze.

He groans, pinching the bridge of his narrow nose. “How many times must we go over this?”

“Boyan, I—”

“You don't leave camp without letting someone know,” the man—apparently Boyan—emphasizes, accenting the beats of his scolding by tapping his fist into his other hand. “Certainly not alone, and definitely not to poke around that—”

“She weren’t alone,” Scout interrupts, “She was with me. Followed me over yonder and back. Proved mighty handy out there, too.”

Alice blinks at that, pulling her chin out of her scarf to glance up at Scout with wide eyes. Boyan blinks, too, albeit with more of a frown. Olga just quirks an eyebrow curiously.

So Scout elaborates with a laugh, miming Alice’s whack with an invisible pipe, “Yeah, she gave one of them convicts a good whippin’!”

Alice’s face turns as pink as the sand outside of camp. Especially when the other Humans gawk at Scout, then at Alice. As if it can shield her from everyone’s eyes, Alice tucks her chin back into her scarf until it almost touches her thin lips, avoiding everyone’s gazes. Eventually she stutters, “I-I just hit him once. He was about to shoot.”

“Oi, that counts far as I’m concerned,” Scout bubbles, playfully elbowing her shoulder.

Alice just shoots her a look.

“Anyhow,” Scout continues before anyone else can, gesturing to the boxes again, “I weren’t privy to the details ‘bout that trade deal Riku made with y’all, but…”

Boyan furrows his brows a bit at Scout, studying her as he guesses, “They sent you as some sort of proxy?”

“Yep,” Scout pops. She fishes through her pocket for the tiny card Bronzemarch gave her, worrying for a brief moment that it had fallen out in all that scuffle until her fingers brush the edge of it. With a triumphant buzz she pulls the card out, spinning it between her fingers to show it off. “Ol’ Bronze-Head even lent me his ID thingy to prove it.”

“Bronze-head?” Boyan echoes with a snort, glancing at the card before quirking a look back at Scout

“Bronzemarch,” Scout corrects, twirling the card once more before slipping it back into her pocket. “He lent me his ship, too.”

Olga nods with an understanding hum. Then as she walks over to the boxes she notes, “Well, as far as I know, the prices of everything was already fixed. We just need to transfer the Pixels. But we should probably make sure…everything is…” She drifts off with a sudden frown and sour note as she inspects the boxes. “Uh oh.”

“What’s wrong?” Boyan frowns, walking over to peek around Olga’s shoulders.

Olga runs a gloved finger along the tape sealing a smaller box atop the pile. It crinkles in the night air. “This box has been opened already,” she observes, pushing the tape down, only for it to slowly pop back up with a prolonged papery crackle.

Boyan turns back to Scout with a wary look. “You didn’t—”

“Oi, don’t look at me. I didn’t touch nothin’,” Scout promises with a spark, holding both hands up in innocence. Then she walks over to the boxes herself, casting her light over them and studying the uplifted tape. It looks like someone had tore the box open and only barely tried to reseal it with the paper-clogged tape. Scout pinches the tape with her left hand, and it doesn’t even have enough adhesive left to stick to her prosthetic.

“Those convicts must have…” Olga starts to observe before studying Scout and Alice again. After a moment she pries, “Those convicts didn’t…did they look like they had anything new on them?”

Scout shrugs with a fizzle. Alice, after walking tentatively over to the boxes herself, starts to shrug and shake her head. But then she pauses, brows knitting as she tugs her shirt. “They…all had respawn beacons on them,” she slowly notes.

“They did, didn’t they? They all went poof except that feller ya bonked on the head,” Scout realizes. Then she tilts her head at Olga and Boyan and muses, “That ain’t normal?”

The two other Humans’ eyes shoot wide when Alice mentions the beacons, then a bit wider at Scout’s agreement. Then Boyan shakes his head at Scout’s question.

“Respawn beacons are expensive as heck,” he grumbles, “So if those blasted convicts had them, then…”

As if to verify his unspoken statement, he snatches the edge of the untaped lid and yanks it open, making what little of the tape that still stuck rip loud enough to echo. Then he peeks in, and Scout peeks over his head, making him cast a shadow across the box.

Empty. All except for a few loose bits of paper.

“Blast,” Boyan hisses, picking the box up from the pile. When Scout tilts her head at him, he eventually elaborates, “We paid for those beacons. We were supposed to keep as many of them as we needed and send the rest back to that Hylotl for him to sell.” He glares at the box and shakes it as if it personally offends him by being so empty.

“We can’t do anything about that now,” Olga says to Boyan, putting a hand on his shoulder until he huffs a low breath that fades to an irked growl before he all but tosses the box back on the pile of unopened boxes. Olga quirks a look at the askew box, then at Boyan as he pulls away from her and crosses his arms, then back at Scout with an apologetic shrug and pinch to her expression. “We’ll just…have to verify that everything else is as it should be, then we’ll get the Pixel transfer arranged.”

It takes longer than Scout would like for the Humans to poke through the boxes. They don’t open all of them, but they do open one or two with partially torn tape to verify nothing else got stolen, and they undo the pile to inspect the rest of the boxes and make sure none of them got opened, too. It takes long enough for them to do it that Scout wanders and makes a full lap around the nearest campfire and circle of tents. Twice.

And she almost starts a third lap by the time Olga, Boyan, and the few other Humans that volunteered to help, finally start to re-stack the boxes. As they do that, Olga catches Scout before she starts her third lap and arranged the Pixel transfer details. Most of which fly over Scout’s head—something about syncing accounts. She ends up asking S.A.I.L. to deal with the details. Which it does, announcing its affirmation of the Pixel transfer from the speaker on Scout’s translator just loud enough for Olga to hear, which makes her jump at first. Which is amusing.

Finally, though, the Humans seem satisfied with their stack of boxes and Olga seems satisfied with the Pixel transfer nonsense. So Scout scans the boxes with her Manipulator once again and converts them, tucking them safely away into her Manipulator’s energy inventory. Safe and sound.

Once she twirls her Manipulator and tucks it back in her pocket, and once Olga and the other Humans stop gawking at the now-empty space, Olga steps forward and says, “Listen. We can’t thank you enough for your help. Those convicts have been harassing us for the longest time.”

Scout’s plasma heats a bit from the sudden increase in attention and she fizzles, “Aw, it ain’t nothin’,” borrowing Riku’s hand-wave gesture again to dismiss the awe. Handy gesture, that. “Don’t fuss yourselves none.”

“No, seriously,” another one of the armored folks in the gathering crowd pipes up—oh, it’s Lonnie from earlier—“You did us a huge favor. Is there anything we—”

Now Scout waves both hands quickly—this is getting mighty embarrassing; she’s not a hero or anything, is she?—and sparks, “N-Nah I’m good! Them Fenerox already gave us a lil’ somethin. Besides, I reckon I should really be gettin’—”

Alice takes an audible breath and interrupts, “Wait.”

Scout spins around and the other Humans pause. Alice is tugging hard at her shirt and wagging her pipe in almost meditative beats next to her leg, but after a moment of frowning at the dry dirt in front of her, she looks square up at Scout and says, “Take me with you.”

Scout tilts her head. “Ya wanna come back to Haven Valley with me?”

“I want to join your ship.”

“I mean, I ain’t got a problem with ya taggin’ along again,” Scout shrugs, “But it ain’t actually my ship—”

Boyan steps forward between Olga and Lonnie and scolds, “Alice, no. That’s dangerous.” Suddenly he sounds a lot like Bronzemarch. “You managed to get back safely from that penal colony this time, but I don’t want you galavanting about and—”

“And what? Actually doing something, for once?” Alice snaps.

“Alice—”

Alice doesn’t let him continue. “I want to do something, Boyan. Be something,” she huffs, voice thick for half a second before she shakes her head, “I can’t do that here.”

Boyan’s face pinches with deep-knit brows for a long moment. But then it softens as he sighs, “Alice, your father asked me to keep you safe.”

“And you have,” she replies, softening her own voice and stance herself. “But I want to be useful for once. Please.”

Something in the way Alice’s voice quivers makes Boyan’s expression soften further, almost sadly aside from the slight flicker of a half-smile trying to throw it off. Scout can’t quite parse it, but it again reminds her of Bronzemarch when he talks to Semyon late at night.

After several long moments—the silence only filled by the crackling of the nearby campfire and by the faint crackles Scout’s corona makes as she glances between the two staring Humans—whatever soft, visual argument the two are having breaks as Alice rushes forward the few steps it takes to throw her arms around Boyan. “I’ll be ok,” she promises softly in her native language, again only barely loud enough for Scout’s translator to catch.

Boyan returns the embrace, his arms going more around her than hers can go around him, then gently ends the hug with a pat to her head that brushes her puffy ponytail. She pulls away, but before she can step out of reach Boyan ruffles her head one last time and chuckles, “You’re too much like your dad, kid. Don’t do anything too crazy.”

~~~~~

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#starbound fanfic #starbound #starbound novakid #fanfic #I Was The Sun #Atlas

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joyfulmagic · 2 years

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♥ SHIP QUESTIONARE Bucky and Olga!

@athaexnen // Olga x Bucky

How did they first meet? Bucky and Olga grew up together, as Bucky worked in the castle

Who felt romantic feelings first? Unknown, as they didn't admit it for years

Did either of them try to resist their feelings? Both

Who initiated their feelings first? Bucky

Who said “I love you” first? Olga

Who gets jealous easily? Bucky

Who is more protective? Bucky

Who remembers the little things? Both

Who talks about their feelings more? Olga

Who uses the cheesier pickup lines? Olga due to the fact she's attempting them at all

What does a first date look like for them? A dinner with her family

What do they like to do together? Ride horses, cuddle, garden

Which one gets angry the most, leaving the other to calm them down? Olga

Do they like PDA? It depends who the "public" is

What are their big spoon / little spoon arrangements? Bucky is the big spoon

Does one like the cuddle more than the other? They're equal

Who hogs the blankets? Neither

Who’s more likely to initiate sex? Equal

Who’s the kinkiest? Bucky

Who is the top and bottom in their sex life? Are they interchangeable? Switches for Olga's comfort and pleasure

Who likes giving and who likes receiving oral? Bucky enjoys giving

Can they last more than one round? Definitely

Which one is a morning person? Bucky

Do either of them like to cook? Both

If they get married, who proposes first? Bucky

What kind of wedding do they have? Verse dependent?

Does anyone object to their relationship? Not seriously

Do they have any kids? Eventually several

Do they have any pets? Yes

#lemons #athaexnen

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weirdthoughtsandideas · 2 years

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The different type of Violetta WLW ships:

Franletta - soft fluff, besties to lovers, makes your heart MELT

Luty - angst but also omg they’re such idiots I love them

Cadmila - Female version of Dieleon/Enemies who wanna go make out against the wall

Natila - when you want Naty and Cami to have a fluff ship/You watched S3 and thought their relationship was much more interesting than with their boyfriends, also they kissed off screen

Jadangie - they were both hurt by the same man, so ditch him and marry each other

Jackie x Angie - For when you wanna create some angst background lore cause they cannot date in the present but they DEF DATED BEFORE yk

Lara x Violetta - Violetta got a bi awakening from watching her sing, Lara always is about to go out of the room when she wanna ask Vilu something, before turning and going back like Lara omg are you nervous??

Francesca x Ana - Just because Ana seemed incredibly obsessed with Fran and you don’t think it was just to mislead her, and Fran refused to admit she kinda had a thing for her too

Ludletta - Si es por amor was the gayest music video ever and you had 2 seasons of freedom and it’s hard to just stop shipping them now?? And they teChNiCaLLy AReN’T EVen SIsTers iN tHe ENd BeCaUse ThEiR PaReNtS DIvoRcEd

Camletta/Camesca - Both of these are the same and it’s often just ”Camila had more chemistry with Vilu/Fran than they have with each other :)”. These shippers often make edits on instagram and you are very unsure if they are platonic or romantic half of the time

No one has shipped Naty with Vilu or Fran so

Priscila x anyone - Cursed.

Jadesmeralda - You wanna go into the very underrated crackships that is practically unheard of and that’s very valid of you

#i don’t know if there is many WLW ships to add #no one ships Olga with anyone #so #lmao #violetta #Franletta #luty #Cadmila #natila #jadangie

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natalieironside · 3 years

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The Prince of Venom announcement post (very cool and exciting)

Happy Preptober, everybody! As I usually do, I’ve made a big change of plans at the very last minute without consulting anyone, and I’m gonna make The Prince of Venom my NaNoWriMo project. (Don’t worry; this means the Voidsong sequels are gonna be the next serials once I’m done w/ this)

We’re returning to the setting of my much-loved In the Court of the Nameless Queen stories and hanging out with some old favorite characters like Freydis Gothi, Kristina the Apostate, and Olga Snake-Eye, and, of course, our glorious Queen, for a story that’s much, much, much lighter on the sexual content and heavier on the fantasy and adventure. No swash will remain unbuckled.

We return to the Queendom of Corynnod, a realm of mystery and sorcery where nothing is as it seems, ruled over by the beautiful, terrible, and enigmatic Nameless Queen, where there are just so many spiders and everything’s got kind of a spidery motif going on.

We meet Young Thorkil Eiturbur, a boy caught between two worlds. The unlikely child of two mothers, one with a deeply troubled past and the other not quite human, he feels out of place, too monstrous for the humans but too human for the monsters. His sense of being out-of-place is further underlined as he finds himself going through the wrong puberty. Seeking community, Thorkil enlists on a merchant ship with a somewhat piratical captain and crew, and finds himself embroiled in a war that he'd hoped was long over, this time with cosmic implications. It’s got everything. Queer and trans characters, pirate adventures, evil wizards, religious fanatics, swordfights, Catholics [derogatory], and spiders. It’s a swashbuckling tale of magic, adventure, community, self-discovery, and, most importantly of all, spiders.

***

There came a hissing, chittering sound from somewhere unseen in the darkness. He rolled his eyes and grumbled, “I told you, I had to say goodbye to Khalid. It took a while. Now come on; I want to be in sight of the taiga by morning. Mom’s expecting us.”

With higher-pitched, more agreeable chittering and the tattoo of chitin tapping against flagstones, a shape emerged from the shadows behind the bower. It had the look of a black widow spider overgrown to monstrous size, like an ox or a destrier, each of its eight unblinking eyes about the size of Thorkil’s fist, with two cruel and gruesome fangs like sickle-blades at the front of its head. At the sight of the creature, Toki grinned and came running over, throwing his arms around it as best he could and planting a kiss atop its head.

The creature hissed, and Toki nodded and replied, “It went really well, actually. He’s so sweet. Gods, now I’m going to miss him all the more. . . . Eh? . . . I’m sorry, but I had to take the time. I wanted to make sure the deed was done right. . . . Yes, I know it’s cold. It’ll get warmer the farther southwest we get. . . . I love you, too, Sesheth. Now, let’s get going. Mom’s waiting for us.”

The warbeast crouched lower to the flagstones. Toki checked that his sword and his things were secure and swung a leg across Sesheth’s cephalothorax, sitting astride her and leaning back against her great, bloated abdomen. To the steady rhythm of more infernal tapping, she skittered up to the gate where a pair of the Queen’s blackguards waved them through, wishing prince and princess safe travels.

The moon and stars bathed the tundra in eerie silvery blue, and from atop the plateau, Toki could just barely make out a thin line of evergreens on the southern horizon. He laughed aloud at the crisp, fresh air filling his lungs and the bitter cold biting his cheeks as they set forth. Below them, he spied a band of reindeer-herders moving south, like him choosing to brave the bitter arctic night to make up travel time across the prairies. With a grin, he tapped the spider’s carapace and asked, “Sesheth, do you see those reindeer-herders down there?”

The spider hissed in the affirmative.

“Why don’t you show them how fast a warbeast can run?”

***

U can follow my blog here on Tumblr dot com and check out the links in the pinned post if u want to follow along

#prince of venom #in the court of the nameless queen #writeblr #bookposting #nanowrimo #preptober

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chrysocomae · 2 years

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‘Apparently our guys have been forgotten’ Parents of Russian conscripts who disappeared aboard the Moskva still seeking answers one month later

11:48 am, May 17, 2022

Source: Meduza

A month has passed since a Ukrainian missile strike sank the Russian warship Moskva. In total, there were around 500 people aboard the vessel, which was the Black Sea Fleet’s flagship. The Russian Defense Ministry has only acknowledged that one sailor was killed, while claiming that another 27 are missing. On condition of anonymity, the mother of a conscripted sailor who disappeared aboard the Moskva told Meduza about her month-long battle with the Russian authorities for information about her son.

At the start of Moscow’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, Russian officials assured that draftees wouldn’t take part in the “special operation.” However, they later acknowledged that conscripts were in fact sent into combat. The crew of the Russian missile cruiser Moskva could have been more than half draftees, sources told the investigative outlet Agentstvo in early May. This is typical on board warships, where conscripts do all the “grunt work.”

After a Ukrainian missile strike sank the Russian warship on April 14, the first person to report the disappearance of a conscript serving on board was Dmitry Shkrebets — the father of draftee Egor Shkrebets. On May 6, the Russian Defense Ministry sent Dmitry Shkrebets a letter that said Egor “had been declared missing from [his] military unit.” At the same time, the letter claimed that the Moskva didn’t enter Ukraine’s territorial waters and “was not included in the list of military formations and units involved in the special military operation” in Ukraine.

Dmitry Shkrebets published the letter on VKontakte, but deleted the post from his profile a few days later. He then wrote another post, thanking the command of the Black Sea Fleet for its “honest decision and humanity.”

The Russian Defense Ministry has maintained the official position that the Moskva sank after an “ammunition detonation” on board the ship triggered a fire. The exact number of wounded and survivors has not been officially disclosed. According to a Meduza source close to the Black Sea Fleet’s command, at least 37 sailors were killed. Relatives of the Moskva’s missing crew members have been trying to get information about what happened to them for more than a month. Here is one mother’s story.

Olga

Name changed at her request

Now I understand that I need to ring all the alarm bells because apparently our guys have been forgotten. When I arrived in Crimea the first thing I did was go straight from the train station to the 810th Military Unit — where some of the surviving sailors from the cruiser Moskva were transferred. The captain [of the ship] met me there. He told me that he was involved in rescuing the guys, but it seemed to me that this wasn’t true. I looked at his hair, eyelashes, eyebrows, and hands — his body didn’t have any signs that he was there [like burns].

They [representatives of the Black Sea Fleet] really didn’t want me to talk to anyone from the media. They called every day and said that they were trying to find the missing sailors. The fleet’s leadership also assigned two women to me, who followed me constantly. I know that they followed me. I know perfectly well that none of them even lifted a finger.

I spoke with [the Black Sea Fleet’s Commander Igor] Osipov, he didn’t explain anything to me. At first he told me there were 19 people missing and three dead. The next day it turned out that there were 27 missing and one dead — [Ivan] Vakhrushev, who was a warrant officer on the ship.

Osipov said there was a fire on the ship, however all of the guys who were there talked about thick, black smoke that made everyone vomit — no one saw a blazing fire. I tried to get information from them about what happened there and where our children are now.

Of course, they did a head count — and they know how many dead they have. Everyone understands everything, but I have no information. No one told me anything.

Representatives of the Black Sea Fleet didn’t want to take me to the hospitals [where the sailors from the Moskva were being treated], but I managed to get into three. There, I saw normal, living guys, there were about 20 of them in total. I found out that they had signed something like a non-disclosure agreement for five years.

I tried to speak with one of the boys, he was with my son at the same time and place. But as soon as he started talking, the two women in uniform came over — and then he said that he couldn’t say anything because of the NDA. One boy managed to tell me in a whisper that they [the surviving sailors] were “scattered all over Russia.”

The next day, I returned to the hospital again, but the boys flatly refused to talk. Some of the guys were in a very depressed state. I understand them perfectly. I tried to talk with them, albeit unsuccessfully. I showed them [the sailors in the hospital] photos of all the [missing] guys that I had. Some recognized them, but they conferred [with each other] and didn’t tell me anything about anyone.

I went to hospitals and the military units, I went digging wherever I could. There’s no information anywhere. As if there was no one anywhere. I wasn’t given any information and I had a feeling that I was being strung along. They didn’t show me any of the seriously wounded; I asked Osipov about it and I was even prepared to look in intensive care.

I realized that no one was going to show me anything else and I left [Sevastopol] for home. A woman met me at the train station [in my city]. It turns out they got a call from Sevastopol to keep an eye on me. I don’t know who exactly she was, but I can guess that she was from a law enforcement agency. She and I agreed that we would continue to look for my son in hospitals, but they didn’t do anything.

I contacted the conscription office in our city with a request for an investigation into where my son is and why a draftee was a participant in the military operation.

I promised them I wouldn’t speak to any media outlets. I said that if I find my child, then I’ll move away from here and even change my SIM card. They sent me a response, but there wasn’t a single word about combat activities [Editor’s note: Meduza is in possession of this document — it says that “these actions are not within the purview of the military commissariat” and recommends contacting the military prosecutor of the Black Sea Fleet].

I was also given paperwork to sign, saying that I agreed to reclassify him from “missing” to “deceased” — so I would receive money, more than 1 million rubles [$15,000]. But I turned it down. How can I bury my child when I believe he’s alive?

I went to see [the father of another missing conscript] Dmitry Shkrebets and his wife. He said he was going to find out the truth one way or another, and that he knew lawyers. I thought he’d see it through. I said to him: “Dima, ask the bosses what happened there.” But he didn’t talk to me. He seemed to be in communication with the command, but I can’t confirm this. He recently wrote a post [expressing his] gratitude to Black Sea Fleet. It shocked me. What gratitude? For the fact that they killed our children?

I called him and he started saying in a low voice that “they’ll come for us, he won’t say anything else.” Then I realized that we had nothing to talk about. Today, I broke down and wrote to him: “What, were you intimidated?” But he didn’t answer me. [Editor’s note: Meduza also tried to speak with Dmitry Shkrebets, but received no response].

A lot of people from Ukraine have written to me. They said: “It’s good that your son died.” They also asked when I was coming to pick up my “construction set” — and that they could send him to me in pieces. Only now do I realize what the word “war” means — it’s terrifying. I really want everyone to know about it. It really hurts me, but I have no other choice. All of the information is being hidden from us. I’m convinced that my child is alive, I just want to find him — may he be wounded, but found.

#Россия #ukraine #moskva #sinking of the moskva #kursk submarine 2.0 #putin #russian invasion of ukraine #meduza #Україна #Москва

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merryfortune · 2 years

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Cold Desserts

Written for 5 Days of YGO Femslash

Day 5. Canon Divergent | Alternate Universe

Title: Cold Desserts

Ship: Frozenshipping | Olga/Rio

Fandom: ZeXal/Arc V

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,465

Tags: Alternate Universe - Cakeverse, Crossover Pairing, Fork Olga, Cake Rio, Mentor/Mentee, Rivalry, Cannibalism Themes, Implied Unhealthy Relationship

Synchro summoning was not something that Rio had seen before but it was beautiful, like watching a figure skater on ice, carving it through and causing a flurry in the edge. It made her heart race and she wanted more.

She wanted to try it for herself and the girl that she was awestruck for, couldn’t wait to help her.

“The name is Olga,” she said, her voice clipped and accented, “the pleasure is all mine.”

She held out her hand for Rio to shake and she did. Her hand was firm, how she shook hands was rugged and intimidating but Rio didn’t back down. Even when it felt like Olga was trying to purposefully overpower her. And freeze her. Olga’ hand was as tough as it was cold. Ice cold. And that pleasure that she spoke of, how meeting Rio was all hers, it was equally as formidable.

Olga was a good if stern teacher, one who punished severely but Rio was an adept student. She learned Synchro summoning quite well from Olga. She was not so soft that a little tongue lashing would scare her. Her ice was formed in fathomless oceans and tempered inside of fire and flames, after all. Soon, she was bringing out monsters enshrined in frost white rims like she was a natural.

“An abyssal gale blasting through the stars, taking the shape of a devoted swan! I Synchro summon Ice Beast Sygnet Zero Below!” Rio yelled, her chant of battle fierce and icy.

Olga could only look on in pride as Rio’s spell was cast and her monster was summoned. The creature was what a swan was to the constellation was, coalesced and obscure, harsh angles barricaded in icy armour. It was winged, it was beastly but it was more a soldier than an animal and yet, peculiarly, more a princess than it was a militaristic unit.

Olga beamed to see it brought on the field and she couldn’t wait to defeat it. Crush it down and turn it into diamond dust. But, of course, Rio fought back magnificently. She was an excellent duellist in her own right, outside of being a student to Synchro but her native XYZ was better but she was getting there. And she was going to prove it.

Rio tore through Olga’s defences and against what Olga perceived as all odds, Rio came out on top. But Olga could admit when she was bested and she bowed out as gracefully as she could through gritted teeth - and Rio did notice that her teeth were gritted.

“Let me treat you to a meal, as congratulations for your first win using Synchro summoning.” Olga replied, her hospitality masking how she seethed - and Rio heard that in her voice, too.

“I’d like that.” Rio replied. She shook on it and it did amuse her how handshakes, as cold and firm as they were, were becoming her and Olga’s thing. It was certainly better than the veneer of grace. It was genuine. Even if Rio found it disconcerting.

They retired for the afternoon at a family-style diner. Rio ordered lunch; Olga ordered dessert. Rio didn’t think much of it as she nibbled on her hot chips and her hamburger patty but as she and Olga chatted idly about this and about that, it did become more prominent to her. Olga’s mannerisms especially.

It's not that Rio emphasised with the parfait that Olga had ordered, it was more that she sympathised with it. Surely anyone would. It didn’t seem that strange to Rio that anyone might flinch from watching Olga not just eat but devour the parfait. She stabbed the fruit with a fork, cleaned up the custard and ice-cream afterwards with a spoon. She savoured it all and for some reason, it made Rio queasy in her stomach.

She couldn’t finish her meal but Olga certainly downed her dessert quickly.

“Are you a habitual sweet tooth?” Rio inquired.

She wanted to be polite and make conversation as she looked over the battlefield of the table. Her on one side, Olga on the other, her leftovers in the middle and that huge glass all but licked clean. Rio sat prim and proper as she waited for a reply that first came in the form of a cruel smirk.

“More than that,” Olga confessed, “I am a Fork.”

“Pardon but what do you mean by that?” Rio asked.

“There is a condition in my home country of the North, for some reason, certain children are not born with the full range of their taste. Difficult to say why but it makes us stronger, I believe. Fiercer because we are so hungry all the time because all we can eat is sweets but that is not the best way to live, unfortunately.” Olga explained.

“Oh, that’s awful,” Rio lamented, superficial but Olga merely shrugged, “what does non-sweet food taste like?”

“Good and common question. Like yellow snow.” Olga replied and she made Rio laugh.

Rio laughed far too raucously for what a blunt vulgarity like that deserved but Olga didn’t mind. She tried to lick yet more of what remained off her spoon, scraping the absolute dredges of custard, impossible to fully clean with her tongue. She gauged Rio though and her belly rumbled.

“But there is more to it than that, you know.” Olga added. “I told you it makes us fierce because we are hungrier. That’s why I am a good duellist. Eating after victory can make anything sweet, even your salty potato fries and slimy meat patty.” Olga said.

She reached over and she fetched a now cold hot chip off Rio’s plate and Rio watched, transfixed, over how much Olga hated the savoury flavour of it. Because she did. Her expression fouled as she had just a bite off half off it, the rest she laden yet again with the impossible scraps of her parfait. She enjoyed that tremendously more than her previous.

“And certain people,” Olga mused, “are sweet, too. Cakes, we call them.”

Rio licked her lips and she felt her heart pound. She wasn’t sure why. It didn’t feel like the thrill of first love borne of rivalry, learning the same game. It felt like fear.

“Are you one of them, Rio?” Olga asked.

“No…?” Rio replied. “Er, well, I don’t know.” She felt uncomfortable with the question, and with how beady Olga’s eyes were. She felt assessed and studied underneath that sharp, ravenous gaze. “How would I know?” Rio stammered. “I have never heard of such a preposterous thing until before now.”

Olga rested her chin on her hand, resting her elbow on the table and her gaze softened but it did not become any less salacious. She had her doubts. Even Rio had her own doubts but she refused to back down on her assertion. She had no reason to believe that any of what Olga had said was true. She could be playing a mean game or trick about being a Fork, let alone implying that Rio might very well be a Cake.

“Are you sure?” Olga asked. Incisive as a knife.

“Yes.” Rio replied but she wasn’t believed, she could tell and it made her uncomfortable. Again.

“Do you want to be sure?” Olga asked again, rephrasing her question, licking her lips.

Rio wanted to reply no but that’s not the word which tumbled out her mouth. Her damnable sense of competition got the best of her. And thus, with one word, she felt hunted. With just a mere, “Yes.”

“Then tomorrow, when we duel next, do your best to win or else when you lose, you may just get eaten.” Olga warned her.

“And if I win?” Rio prompted her.

“You won’t.” Olga promised her.

Already fantasising about what Rio may taste like for she was certain that it would not be of meat. Surely a girl like the one in front of her would taste like shaved ice showered in blue heaven syrup. It just made sense to Olga as she thought about kissing and eating Rio, her mouth watering. And that didn’t escape Rio’s notice and instead, caused her to steel her conviction.

“Well then, and if I win,” Rio tried again, baring her own teeth, “it will be you who is devoured.”

Despite her strength of talk - bravado - Rio felt her hand tremble under the table. She knew full well that tomorrow, she would have to duel stupendously or else she really, truly would be eaten. Regardless of if she was sweet or not, and that chord struck deep like a gale blowing a sharp note in the tundra. She was going to prove that the ice she was made of was not flavoured blue raspberry like Olga appeared to be under the impression of.

#5daysofygofemslash #femslash #yugioh arc v #yugioh zexal #zexal #arc v #olga (arc v)#olga (yugioh)#kamishiro rio #rio kamishiro #frozenshipping #writing tag #cakeverse

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goodbysunball · 3 years

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Late arrivals, part 1: 2021

Whether it's backlogs in vinyl pressing plants or drastically extended shipping times, a bunch of stuff rolled in as the year ended. If one good thing is to come of the manufacturing delays of vinyl records, hopefully it's that records like these don't get lost in the deluge on account of their release/arrival dates. Here's a few late arrivals (and one that has just recently come back into the fold) that've been in the rotation while I await the arrival of more records ordered in the middle of last year.

BIG|BRAVE, Vital (Southern Lord)

BIG|BRAVE has been quietly churning out new records for Southern Lord every two years since 2015, all of them some variation of growth and decay of slow one-chord thundering riffs and Robin Wattie's clearly sung vocals amidst the din. It's a formula, but one that is potent and delivers thrills every time. Besides, the band kills live and they fill a niche in the heavy music scene, and that's probably why I own all four of their Southern Lord LPs. Imagine if True Widow were oppressively heavy, or if "doom metal" didn't have to include burly bearded men cosplaying as wizards or orc warlords or whatever. I still think Ardor is the purest distillation of BIG|BRAVE's sound, and while I enjoyed the lusher studio tricks on A Gaze Among Them, it left me a little cold. Vital finds the band welding together the best parts of those previous two records and coming up with easily their best record yet. The riffs are still big and slow, but they're rich in detail and given plenty of space. In that way Vital recalls the recent work of Kowloon Walled City, albeit with a much heavier allowance for expertly teased feedback. Wattie's vocals are ever-so-slightly more confident, probably best showcased on "Abating the Incarnation of Matter," where she grows and strains her vocals until they crack in the last two minutes. I clearly don't have the vocabulary to express why the whole track is so damn affecting, but it levels me every time. This grow-decay-implode dynamic the band has been whittling away at for years is at it's most potent form on Vital; it's hard to imagine anyone not being coerced into headbanging to "Of This Ilk" when the riff breaks free around minute six. But just as quickly the band returns to near silence, finding as much satisfaction in quietly humming amps as in raining down colossal riffs. Hard to believe I listened to this record and filed it away without note during the summer, so here's a feeble attempt at a correction: Vital was one of the best records of 2021, a sphere of resilience and strength hidden amidst a year that wanted to quash all of that. Good luck taking these three down anytime soon.

J.R.C.G., Ajo Sunshine (Castle Face)

I can't be the only one who thinks Dreamdecay's YÚ is a high-water mark for guitar rock, and I remain as anxious as ever for more material from that band. Justin R. Cruz Gallego is (was?) the drummer for Dreamdecay, and Ajo Sunshine is his latest solo record. The least aggressive touches on YÚ are good launching points for the sound on Ajo Sunshine; there's not much light between the former's "Arc" and the latter's "Rainbow," for instance. But when "Rainbow" drops out and a jazzy synth enters, the distinction is drawn. There's a whole lot more keyboard/synth in the foreground on Ajo Sunshine, and Gallego creates dense, warm soundscapes atop his repetitive tom-heavy drumming. This warmth was key to YÚ and expands across all aspects of Ajo Sunshine: embers are detected in a relatively bleak track like "V" and the hazy sunlight filters across the droning "Brother Was a Bullrider" and plodding "Olga." There are some flare-ups across the record, notably "Holy Hope" and "Lowrider," but for the most part Gallego keeps things fairly measured and lush. I haven't tried it, but I'd guess this would be a great headphones record given the rich detail in every track. I wish there was a lyric sheet to shed light on Gallego's lyrics, but the vocals are wrapped up in the gauze of the music, another instrument woven into the web of sound created on Ajo Sunshine. That choice kinda makes the record less attention-grabbing and more suitable as background music, but damn, what a soundtrack it is.

Negative Reaction, s/t (Zaius Tapes)

There's maybe some myth-building around these labels behind the recent spate of reissues popping up on the Siltbreeze Bandcamp, but who cares if the products delivered are as good as Dreams of the Deep and this Negative Reaction record. It was first issued in 1981 on Dogfood Production System, a label that brought us the likes of Severed Heads' Clean and the Slugfuckers' Transformational Salt. Fine company for Negative Reaction, though they took a much bleaker route than either of their label mates, packing their lone LP full of harrowing spoken word vocals and favoring electronic damage as the ship to carry 'em. The whirring, escalating electronics and screamed vocals on opener "Jubilee" set the stage as much as they mislead the listener; the droning, dour "The Hollow Men" is much more exemplary of Negative Reaction's style, little more than vocals with a heavy delay effect and a couple of held notes on a keyboard. There's just enough flourish added to keep things fresh, and it's these patiently drawn-out tracks that have kept me coming back most. Certainly a line could be drawn between this and Throbbing Gristle, and the modern-day work of Mosquitoes or Komare comes to mind in the midst of "Death or Victory"'s disembodied vocals and dying electronic chirps. "The Desert" is aptly titled, 14 minutes of monologue accompanied by defeated sauntering in a windswept landscape, mapping out territory later tread upon by Balaclavas circa Snake People. Each track seems to have a slightly different style, but it is uniformly desolate. Negative Reaction is wildly engaging from start to finish, though this trip to the razed earth doesn't exactly make one chipper. No where to go but back to the beginning when it's over. Should go great with this and all future hard, gray winters; pick up a copy post-haste before the mirage disappears again.

Quarantine, Agony (Damage United 82 / La Vida Es Un Mus)

This isn't exactly an overlooked arrival - it landed in my top ten for the year, and the U.S. pressing is currently sold out - but it came late in the year and it's been the soundtrack to this winter of my (and seemingly everyone else's) discontent. Quarantine are from Philly, they are four men with one-word names like Piss and Chef, and they play a very meat 'n potatoes style of hardcore often associated with the '80s; a story as old as hardcore itself. So what's the big deal? For me there's two things that really make this a memorable record: one is the lyrics, which are just intelligent and clever enough to warrant printing ("Mouth Off" being my favorite), and the second is that the drums were recorded separately from everything else. This puts the drummer in the driver's seat across Agony, and it's something I foresee other bands with the talent and the capital copying in the future. Ugh, those fills on "Targeted" and "Shadow People," and the sheer pounding brutality of "For What?" and "Suffocating Rule"; there's a jaw-dropping level of mastery on the skins on almost every track. I also like the synth and drum machine interludes that break up the record, as a breather is definitely needed when taking in Agony. I think the band stumbles a bit on the mid-tempo "Disgrace," but the rest of the record is so red hot that it doesn't matter. For better or worse, Agony is gonna resonate well into 2022 and beyond, so grab a copy and learn how to bite back.

Theoreme, Les Artisans (Maple Death)

The previous Theoreme album, L'appel du Midi à midi pile, is my favorite record on the inscrutable Bruit Direct Disques label, and probably one of the best records of last decade. This follow-up comes five years after the first, but the game's much the same: beats are cold worked and rigid, Maïssa D.'s vocals are effortlessly cool and commanding, and hints of melody tease the listener into the writhing landscape. It takes about 30 seconds into the title track for me to be inadvertently bobbing my head; the layering of sound executed here gets bodies moving, even when the vocals seem to be asking anything but that ("Radionucléides"). There's a bit more obvious dub influence on "Te Coloniser Là," something that appears to be a consequence of a slightly pared back sound, though the shuffling groove on that track is just as undeniable. The paring back seemed to also take away the possibility for tracks to stretch out and unravel, like "Rave Party" on the previous LP, and by the end of Les Artisans I'm left wanting more. In all likelihood the reins aren't as tight as I'm insinuating: "L'enfer Définitif" grows seasick throughout its duration, and the way the two instrumental tracks grow like kudzu covering the windows is just as sneakily addicting as anything Theoreme's put out. I like a concise LP as much as anyone, but Theoreme's a rare exception where more might be better, given that Les Artisans has the type of stuff that never gets stale and constantly surprises. Like the work of the painter Bridget Riley, the songs are more dazzlingly complex the more they're scrutinized, and Les Artisans casts a potent spell once the exterior is cracked.

#BIG|BRAVE #J.R.C.G.#Castle Face Records #Negative Reaction #Quarantine #La Vida Es Un Mus #Theoreme #Maple Death Records #Southern Lord

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safarigirlsp · 3 years

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Omg do you love Reylo too? I want more movies with Daisy and Adam together! 😍

Hi!

Actually, I'm very much not into Reylo at all lol. I assume this is in reference to the Jacques/Ophelia gifs I reblogged lol. I am very into Jacques content of any kind and those gifs are gorgeous! As for the reylo factor, I try to ignore it lol.

I'm very ambivalent about the ship itself and have no strong feelings either way. People can enjoy what they want and that's fine with me. It’s not my thing personally, but I don’t care if it’s yours lol.

I will say that the rabid proclivity of the reylo stuff and the need to permeate every facet of AD content is driving me nuts lol. I was talking about this with some friends just the other day! For example, I enjoyed the Ophelia movie, but now I'm resenting its existence because of all the crossover with Jacques that, in my opinion, lessens the Jacques content greatly.

Honestly, due to no fault of Daisy's, all of the reylo stuff has made me so sick of seeing her face everywhere that I get turned off at the idea of seeing her in another movie of any kind! She has to be inserted into pics with Jacques, Henry, Flip, Clyde, every character. EVERYWHERE! It's one thing with Kylo because that's obviously canon for the movies, but I think it's a bit much when everything has to involve her. I think it's weird to photoshop her face over a gorgeous Academy Award winner like Marion Cottilard, or the very pretty girl from Duel in the orgy scene with Jacques, or anyone else.

If that's your thing, more power to you though! You should relish it if it's something you enjoy! Sorry that was a bit ranty, but it’s been driving me insane with the Jacques stuff lately lol.

Ships aside, I’ve enjoyed seeing him with great actresses this year! Jodie, Gaga, and Marion are all top notch actresses and they really enhance scenes with him because he has more to work with, in my opinion. I can say the same about Scarlett Johansson, even though I didn’t like the movie. And I enjoyed him with Olga Kurylenko in Don Quixote too.

#hearts

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imjustthemechanic · 3 years

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The Price of a Soul

Part 1/? - Agent Russel Part 2/? - The Letter Part 3/? - Miss Lake Part 4/? - The Stewardess Part 5/? - An Assassination Part 6/? - Fallout Part 7/? - Face to Face Part 8/? - Deals, Details, and Other Devils Part 9/? - Baggage Part 10/? - Private Funding Part 11/? - Just Passing Through Part 12/? - Party of Four Part 13/? - Resolute Part 14/? - The Wreck Part 15/? - Body Snatchers Part 16/? - Out of the Frying Pan Part 17/? - A Miracle Part 18/? - A Matter of Circumstance

A chapter for anybody who’s been wondering just what Lake’s deal is.

It was dark by now. Peggy headed out on the deck, and got a blast of icy-cold air in the face. They were moving west, back towards American waters, and it made Peggy wonder if the Canadians even knew they were up here. In the darkness and wind there was nobody else on deck except the essential staff. All she had to do was find somewhere sheltered.

The wind was from the west, so Peggy went around behind the ship’s superstructure. One of the lifeboats was in need of repairs and had been lashed to the deck there, keel-up, so men could work on it. Between it and the superstructure was a nice little triangle that was out of the wind and away from prying eyes. With the ship and the sea drown out the noise, Peggy leaned against the wall and bawled.

Steve was alive! He was alive and awake and solid and real. All this time Peggy had been mourning his loss, trying to get over this beautiful brave fool of a man she’d once hoped to build a life with, he’d been up there in the ice waiting to be found! The moment she’d seen his eyes open, all the work she’d put into moving on had been utterly wasted because there he was. She was overjoyed at the same time as… what was she going to do?

Peggy loved Daniel. He understood her. Their relationship was based on working together in peacetime on a very different set of problems… that was something she would have had to build from the ground up with Steve and three years ago she’d been ready to do it, even looking forward to it, but now? Steve didn’t even know the time had passed. He might think they could still make their date at the Stork Club. Somebody was probably telling him about it right now. What would he think? Would he wonder why Peggy hadn’t told him herself?

Was she going to have to break his heart? Was she going to have to break Daniel’s? What about her own? And was she really so bloody selfish that at a time when Steve’s return was going to mean so much to so many people, people like Daniel and Lieutenant Harbottle who’d never felt they got to properly thank him, she was thinking about this?

The answer to that last question was yes. Yes, she absolutely was, damn her.

Hot tears slid down her face and froze to her cheeks, and her sobs mixed with the arctic wind and flew away across the sea on it. For what seemed like half the night, she felt like she might never be able to stop. Her head began to ache, her nose ran, her throat went sore… Steve was in there waiting for her to come back and she was going to look the ugliest she had in her life…

Then, at last, she ran out of tears. For a moment she stayed perfectly still, just listening to the wind… and then she heard the sound of somebody singing.

Perhaps she’d imagined it. Over the creak of the ship and the sound of her own shuddering breaths, how could Peggy have heard anything else? But there it was again, and after a moment of straining her ears, she realized it was coming from underneath the upturned lifeboat. She knelt down for a look. It was very dark under the boat, but once her eyes adjusted, she made out the shape of a woman lying on the deck, curled around a life vest she had clutched to her middle and singing softly to herself.

“And if I’m flying solo, at least I’m flying free,” she sang, slow and shaky. Peggy did not know the song, but she could tell it was off-key. “To those who’d ground me, take a message back for me…”

“Kay?” Peggy asked.

Kay opened her eyes. They were red-rimmed, and her cheeks were stained with tears.

“Are you all right?” Peggy wanted to know.

“I’m fine,” said Kay hoarsely.

“No, you aren’t,” said Peggy.

“If you already knew that, then why did you ask?” Kay rolled over to face away from her.

Peggy spent a moment wondering if she ought to say something more, then decided no. She’d never gotten a straight answer from Kay yet, and this was not the time to try. She should go in and wash her face, and see if she could talk to Steve without bursting into tears all over again. Peggy stood up.

“Don’t go,” said Kay.

Peggy knelt down again. “Why not?” she asked.

Kay was still lying with her back to Peggy, and did not move to change that. “Life’s not fair,” she said.

“No. No, it’s not,” Peggy agreed. It never was.

“Have you ever noticed that nobody ever says that like it’s a bad thing?” Kay asked. She sniffled, and Peggy saw an arm move to wipe her nose on her sleeve. “It’s just the way it is. We’re not supposed to try to change it.”

“Yes. The people who say life’s not fair are the ones who have some advantage they want to press,” Peggy agreed. “Whether it’s a parent to a child, a boss to an employee, or…” she could think of other examples, but they hit a little too close to home. “Or Steve’s lady friend, talking to the woman who risked her life for him even though he doesn’t even know who she is?”

This time, Kay did roll over. “Who do you think I am, Peggy?” she asked.

Peggy’s heart started beating a little faster. For all she’d just had a very personal breakdown, there was enough professional left in her to know that this might be her only chance to learn something very important. She was not sure how she felt about Kay – they certainly weren’t friends, but after what had happened today, could they really be enemies anymore? – but she could use this emotional moment to get some kind of truth from her. The question was whether she would hate herself for it later.

“Can we talk about this indoors?” Peggy asked.

Kay uncurled a little from the life vest she’d been crying into, but she did so in defeat, not because she wanted to open up. “You want me somewhere you can record me.”

“No,” Peggy backtracked. “I want you somewhere we can both wash our faces and have something hot to drink, because we’re cried out and it’s brass monkeys out here.”

“It’s okay. I’d do the same thing,” said Kay.

She squirmed out from under the boat and Peggy helped her stand, and they both stumbled back inside and found a washroom. On a navy ship all of these, except the one for the nurses, were supposed to be men only, but most of the sailors who came in and saw the two of them washing up just turned around and left again – and the ones who stayed politely decided to use the stalls. Peggy and Kay were still red-eyed and miserable as they went to the mess hall, but Peggy at least felt a little more presentable. She got them each a mug of tea, and they went to a little table in the corner, far from anyone else present at this hour.

By the time they got there, she had settled on how she was going to answer Kay’s question. Peggy gave the other woman her tea, and then said, “I think you definitely came from the same place as Olga Barynova,” she said, “and I think you may have been telling the truth when you said they sent you here to find her. But I also think you have your own agenda, which your superiors may not approve of. What that has to do with Steve I’m not sure.”

Kay shook her head. “Nobody sent me. I came here on my own. I…” she took a deep breath. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so I thought I’d let you figure it out on your own, but I don’t care anymore. I’m a time traveler. I’m from the future. I’m here to fix it.”

That was not an answer Peggy had been prepared for, and her instinctive reaction was that it had to be nonsense. Yet… hadn’t she seen stranger things? She’d seen tiny Steve Rogers transformed into Captain America. She’d seen the awesome technology of the Valkyrie, a plane the size of this aircraft carrier roaring into the sky as if it weighed nothing at all. She’d seen the unbelievable power of the tesseract, the bizarre properties of the Zero Matter, and the corpse of a giant her superiors thought must have come from outer space. Who was Peggy Carter to say that time travel was impossible?

“Tell me more,” she said.

“I was born in 1984,” said Kay, “and you’re right, the Red Room got me… but the Soviet Union collapsed when I was still a child, so they began using us as assassins and spies for hire instead. The controls weren’t as tight as they used to be, and eventually I went rogue. The organization the SSR evolved into sent a man to kill me, but he…” She looked up at Peggy, and seemed to arrange her words carefully before she continued. “I guess he thought I was worth more alive. So I ended up working for them instead. I was with the group who found Steve in the arctic in 2012.”

Peggy had been thinking that recruiting somebody like Dottie sounded far too dangerous to her, but that number brought her train of thought up short. Twenty-twelve didn’t even sound like a real year. It was the sort of far-flung future one saw in serials where people regularly rode rocket ships into space. “And he was still alive?” she asked.

“Yeah,” said Kay. “When I met him, when they thawed him out – they let it take a few days, so he recovered better than he did today – he was so lost. Everybody he knew was dead and the whole world had changed, but somehow they expected him to just get back into it and be Captain America again. And he did, because he didn’t know what else to do.”

Peggy could just picture it… poor Steve, wandering in a world like something out of one of Howard’s fantasies, all flying cars and cities on the moon. Not in itself a terrible future, but not one anyone wanted to see alone.

But apparently it was a terrible future, because Kay went on: “by that time, people like Zola meant that HYDRA had completely permeated the United States government. You almost couldn’t get it out without tearing the whole thing down. Steve and I found out about it and exposed it, but it was a horrible mess. People looked back on the last sixty years and realized there were so many wars that didn’t need to happen and people who didn’t need to die.”

When talking about the death of Zola, Peggy recalled, Kay had sounded like the murder had been very personal to her. There was more than that, though: “were you in love with him?” Peggy asked.

“Love is for children,” said Kay. “Captain Rogers was my friend. We worked together for years. He missed you. He missed Barnes, he missed Stark. Finding HYDRA was still active made him feel like he’d sacrificed himself in that plane wreck for nothing. There are so many things he would not have stood for, but those won’t happen now.” She sat up a little straighter. “Because Zola is dead and Steve is alive, and the future is going to be better.”

Peggy didn’t know if she believed a word of that… but it was certainly a compelling idea, and she couldn’t deny the reality of the two facts Kay had just stated. Zola was dead, and Steve was alive. And if the other things she’d said were true, then the future was going to be… perhaps not necessarily better, but certainly very different.

He was my friend. That was why she’d been crying, because he’d woken up and looked at her and said who are you? If he’d done the same to Peggy, she didn’t know that she would have been able to just keep smiling as Kay had.

“What are you going to do next?” Peggy asked.

“I’ve got a list,” said Kay. “There are some more like Zola who have to go, and the Red Room, but we’re not talking about people who keep their records for seventy years. I need information, and to get it I think I need Barynova.”

“Then why run off to follow me?” Peggy wanted to know. “Why not stay in New York where they’re working on that?”

Kay gave an uneasy shrug. “I just felt like I should be here.”

Peggy supposed she ought not to argue with that. If not for Kay, Steve would be either on a dissecting table or burned alive in the boiler room, and Peggy would never even know she’d killed him. The thought made her shudder.

“What’s your real name?” she asked.

“Natalia Alianova Romanova,” was the reply. “If I had any friends they’d call me Natasha. Or just Nat. But don’t call me that,” Kay added firmly. “I don’t want that name getting into the history books later. I don’t want anyone ever knowing this wasn’t the way history was originally supposed to go.”

“Because you don’t want anyone trying to put it back,” Peggy said.

“That’s right.” Kay heaved a shuddering sigh, as if she might start crying again, but she did not. “Do you believe me?”

“I don’t know what to believe,” Peggy replied, with complete honesty. “But you did lead me to him, so… thank you for that.” Even if Peggy had no idea what she was going to do about it.

“You’re welcome,” said Kay. “You were the love of his life.”

“He was mine, too,” Peggy said, and wondered what Kay would think of the problem that presented her with. Did she know something else about Peggy’s own future that Peggy did not? Was she destined to be unhappy in marriage? Or had she even thought about it at all? Maybe Peggy was only here because Kay expected her to play her role in Steve’s future, and had never considered that Peggy might have developed other plans in the meantime.

#fanfic #captain america #agent carter #peggy carter #steve rogers #steggy #fix it fic

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norgestan · 3 years

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I'm going back for seconds! Viri/Hugo, Nora/Miquel, Lucasim, Emma/You. Lol tbh I just want an Emma ship and I feel like we haven't properly settled for one. 😔 Who should end up with Emma, Mia excluded since you haven't watched Druck yet?

ardi round 2, i loooove this :)

VIRIHUGO:

i think at the end of the day i’m just resigned to virihugo’s existence. do i hate that they just Start pining for each other with no setup at all? yes. do i hate that their relationship was a noorhelm+vilde esque get-together where dylan is the one who ends up alone? yes (imagine if noora had told william something like “oh lol vilde is just some slut that goes for every boy around her, she’ll get over it soon and she doesn’t really care about us being together ;)”. bc that’s essentially what virihugo did LOL). do i hate that half of their clips are they just standing still and monologuing about each other? oh yes. do i care? not really. i would resent them a lot more if viri had been the protag of s3, but eskam had really compelling couples with noriquel and norandro so i just spend my time focusing on them and not the lesser part of the season.

viri is an endearing character, and although i didn’t like most of her subplot in s3, i do think eskam made her an interesting character with what they had and i’m happy she got a nice boyfriend that she has lots of fun with. moreover, norandro was lacking the enemies-to-lovers snarky interactions (too busy being a really compelling couple!) and the trope was picked up by hugo and viri. which i kinda dig, because those interactions were the only things that i enjoyed about various noorhelms in the skamverse - if most of them were like that and less bad abusive boy feminist girl jerk-fest, i wouldn’t loathe noorhelm as much as i do. although this also makes me wish viri and hugo had been that kind of dynamic from the start, and just gotten a lot of will-they-won’t-they glances from their friends throughout the show until they finally got into each other on s3. but i guess that would’ve made it impossible for eskam to use dylan just to *checks notes* make every person in the love triangle insanely infuriating, oh well.

tl;dr: they are allowed to exist.

NORIQUEL:

ardi, you just want to see the world burn LMAO

to me it’s hard to dislike any pairing with nora on it because she’s a very good character and that just means she’ll always have great dynamics with other good characters. and oh is miquel a good character. in a lot of ways, eskam gave us two great williams in one season: my boy alejandro, who is the perfect candidate for a nora love interest, who earned his place and then helped nora earn her place as the best candidate to be his love interest as well, and then miquel, that has just enough characterization to be exactly what the narrative of the season needs him to be - not only a mustache-twirling antagonist who will punch out then smirk his way out of situations, but a real person.

see, they could’ve made miquel into a one-dimensional asshole that nora is stupidly into because he’s hot (does that sound familiar to you? LOL) but oh no, miquel is way more than that. he earns nora’s trust because he’s not an asshole, he resents olga for cheating on him and you can see how nora waits until the moment where he’ll call her a slut but it NEVER comes, he defends nora in front of his friends... he gives her what she needs, and he fits right where she expects him to. and that’s so important in a season where every other character is challenging nora in one way or another: alejandro doesn’t fit in her box of “incorrigible fuckboy”, viri doesn’t fit in her box of “helpless friend who needs my pity”, emma doesn’t fit in her box of “s/a victim”. being with miquel is easy, when he just humors her and spits out thoughts that nora agrees with all the time. it’s just REALLY great to watch. not only is her season a display of how emotional abuse looks like, but also her entire relationship with miquel showcases her shame, her flaws, the things she needs to work with to better her relationships with the people who ask more of her because it’s only fair.

i honestly never was in the miquel hate train. once you get the point of the character, it’s easy to love him for what he is. as i said before, miquel was also a call of attention because the conversations that he had with nora reminded me of talks with male friends i’ve had in my uni years, and it really put it in perspective and made me realize that i have been humoring numerous miquels by sitting through their “i’m actually a feminist, ya know” think-pieces and agreeing with the general feeling of it. and i don’t think a character like niko could EVER make anyone feel like that.

i’ve checked the middle square because that was my reaction every time eskam made a point to parallel noriquel to noorhelm. like YES. YOU DO GET ME. TRULY A SEASON FROM NOORHELM ANTIS TO NOORHELM ANTIS. what a skamverse treat. this relationship is good for the SOUL. that’s why i never got infuriated watching the couple, despite knowing what the point of their existence was: at the end of the day, i knew that the signs of abuse weren’t pointless and just fillers for an end-of-season sex scene, but they were actually going to do something interesting with them. and that’s exactly what they did. noriquel is actually a perfectly crafted relationship for what its message is and it deserves to be remembered as that.

LUKASIM:

oh BOY.

i just.... kasim is in this relationship. that already makes this REALLY difficult to tackle it. the thing about kasim is... if you only watched the season as the movistar+ channel shows it, kasim is simply a plot device. he’s not a character. he’s only there to introduce conflict and stir some shit and then fuck off to the sunset. he doesn’t have an og counterpart which meant that eskam didn’t have to actually try with him, and kasim is just what they need him to be: a way to introduce the main conflict, a reason for dounia to hate amira, boy on boy action for that sweet fanservice, misogynist microaggressions towards amira, a loose way to wrap things up at the end of the season and absolve her from any guilt or shame, etc. he just shows up when the plot needs him and then walks away very swaggily. and that’s why kasim is an essay kind of topic because to talk about him, you have to tackle the racism in s4 and all the ways they could’ve made a conflict-inducing gay muslim guy actually likable. which i won’t do here.

but then if you look at the lucas extra clips... he’s actually LIKABLE. he’s a character: he has personality, he’s funny, he doesn’t take lucas’ shit, he will only be with him if lucas apologizes and changes first. and as someone who desperately wants to protect kasim from the shit characterization and treatment he got in the show, i treasure those clips immensely - which i don’t think a lot of people do, and i can see why. it’s just sad that the moments where kasim was a likable, real character were hidden behind a paywall, and drown in a convoluted plotline of outing people when they behave badly as a good punishment. the thing about their get-together is that their impact relies only on amira, and is meant to make her life a living hell. other than that, there’s not really a narrative or character reason why they’re both into each other. is it only because they’re conventionally attractive guys and the only recurrent mlm in the show? wow, that shit’s BORING.

sigh, anyway. in a slightly better world, kasim being gay wasn’t actually a nuance as it was presented in the show. rather, kasim was out and confident about it, close to his sister, probably a regular in las labass where he could also work with organizations of other queer muslims in madrid. this also means that lucas and kasim’s relationship wasn’t the typical hidden gay love story that they were in the actual show, but they’re just, ya know. typical gay kids who made out in the club and then became just friends. or lucas’ activism on s2 warranted some instagram dms and then they upgraded to acquaintances. it’s upsetting that lucas is the only eskild who doesn’t really get to hangout or be in queer circles like other eskilds are implied to, so it would be great for him to actually have gay friends that he enjoys just as much as his primarily friend group. like, their version of lucas’ queer lifestyle being going to bars and hooking up with older guys it’s so....................... why. they didn’t have the time to say anything interesting about it and so obviously they didn’t do it lol. at this rate lucas’ only platonic queer companion is cris, which is lackluster to say the least.

the decision of making kasim lucas’ endgame is just another one on the list of things s4 got so, so wrong. what for? why does lucas need (another) boyfriend, again? why does every queer person in this show have to be dating someone and also come out to their parents? again, their relationship is just another rushed hidden gay love story that i found interesting at 13 years old and then never again. they could’ve taken it into ANY other direction, please. i’m begging.

anyways, you had really nice headcanons of lucas being the only eskild willing to revert to date a muslim guy, so that’s the only reason why i’m open to the idea of them being a couple. in a better universe, eskam actually made a case for these two being a good couple, and i agreed with it. as it is for now, it’s just really pointless, and rooted on the fact that kasim is not a real character to begin with. so i’m OBVIOUSLY sending them to superhell <3

EMMA/ME:

standard wlw relationship that would probably get sooooo much backlash about how neither of the characters Really feel like wlw and the emma love interest being boring as fuck, tbh.

alright, now that we’ve covered all that.... should dear emma grace even end up with someone in the skamverse? maybe one of the skamau girlies, given the proximity? maybe she’ll hook up with the female eskild that i know so many people dislike? idk. emma deserves a nice love story, in the same wavelength as nora. she deserves someone who is patient, who communicates well, who establishes boundaries and asks for respect, who understands she’s not only the act of crazy party girl and there are really interesting, carefully placed layers around her. maybe someone who went through a similar situation or at the very least sits down with her and tries their hardest to understand all the things going on with her life. like... there’s something about emma dropping the accusations and then dipping to another country, away from her parents and even her hometown in the states, just to throw herself in a city as busy as nyc is, that is desperately asking to be explained and explored. in a lot of ways, emma’s story is the other side of the noora story that couldn’t be told through nora’s perspective. in a perfect universe, there’s a spinoff that takes place right between s3 and s4, where emma gets the news of how much of a shithead miquel actually is and she has to question all of that yet again, and break the sense of normalcy and comfort she had built during all those years. it would be great if that story featured her closest friendships, and a newfound love. yes i was serious when i talked about the emma grace spinoff @ movistar+

#the emma grace spinoff involves updates of nora + therapy and the sekou/lucas endgame that we all crave #skam españa #answered #ardi this reminds me of your druck post about how every druck fan will disagree with at least one of your opinions #i feel the same about this LOL #meta

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countessofbiscuit · 4 years

Text

The Captain & the Resident’s Daughter; an Introduction

. . . . . . . .

Rexsoka Week - Sunday - Crossover/AUs/Free

“That cat looks like he wants to murder us in our sleep.”

. . . . . . . .

This year’s Rexsoka Week will see the humble author expanding upon The Captain & the Resident’s Daughter, a work of fiction set in Bengal in the year of our Lord 1809, with a series of vignettes. The themes proposed for each day of this celebration will be honoured, and as such, it will not be possible to present them in narrative order until such time as they are published in the Archive of Our Own.

While it would behoove readers to make themselves acquainted with the aforementioned piece, the author has also conceived that the greatest benefit would arise from preempting this week’s seventh challenge with a scene that revisits our heroes and heroine the morning after the ball at Government House . . .

(N.B. this story is one-thousand words in length and contains period-typical attitudes and language.)

. . . . . . . . . .

“By heaven Rex, that cat looks like he would murder us in our sleep,” Anakin said upon waking. He had been unwilling to part company with Madame de Naberrie in the land of dreams and greet the humid, waking world, with its noisy aide-de-camps and hastily preserved tiger heads. “Whatever did you bring it out for?”

Miss Tanough’s tiger was draped over their adjacent dressing chests as Rex examined it in detail from stem to stern. “Was you not prodigious keen to see it?” asked he.

“La! One would think you had not lived ten years in this country and seen all manner of tigers, both living and dead.” Anakin was still disturbed by the overlarge yellow eyes and beady black pupils which rendered this specimen particularly uncanny. Without a maw bared in ferocious animosity, presumably because it had been robbed of its fangs, the skinned cat had the mien of a jaundiced half-wit.

“But I have never seen one done in by a girl,” countered Rex.

“Yes, well the little huntress might have gone for the head. It is uncommon ugly.” Anakin’s own head felt quite stuffed; he wondered at Rex’s sprightliness after he had fagged himself to death with dancing the night before — but while the ungallant General had plied himself with glass after glass to keep his hands politely engaged and to indicate a general unwillingness for a partner, his friend had hardly touched a drop. “Pray, did you gain the story from her in all your minueting? She remained awful close with me. Quite snippish, in fact.”

Rex shook his head in despair. After an indiscreet beginning (Rex could own as much with a head cleared of attar and punch), his conversation with Miss Tanough had touched lightly upon all and sundry; her journey beating up the Coromandel Coast — pirates and the likelihood thereof in those same waters — her moonshee’s dwarfism — Assaye — experiences of variolation versus vaccination as children — Rex’s prized Arabian, Jaig; but even with the twice necessary interruption for new partners, discourse had not returned to the tiger by the hour palanquins were called. “No, but I am sure the minute it’s put to her directly the talkative creature will — ”

A great feminine commotion cut Rex short. It flailed up the stairs of the bungalow to the simple room where he and Anakin had been shoved to make room for Miss Tanough and the General (whose modest bungalow this was). Presently, it made to invade the room itself with a few servile but stout knocks upon the door.

“General Skywalker!” cried Miss Tanough in a voice that surely would have startled the shirt off that gentleman, had he been wearing one. “Sir, I have not forgot your promise to ride out with me this morning, and Artoo and Jaig have been saddled and waiting this last hour. General Kenobey cannot accompany me, so here I am to beg.”

The gentlemen were much too stunned to act or speak with anything like the decision or promptness required by Miss Tanough. The door opened without so much as a by-your-leave. “Sirs? Oh! I see you have already helped yourself to my tiger. Captain Rex, would you do me the honour, as you are at least upright?”

En déshabillé though he was, Anakin could only thank every deity this side of the Meridian, of which there were many, that he had not come so far in his friendship with Rex that he permitted himself to sleep mother-naked. “Good god, Miss Tanough!” he exclaimed, fumbling with his only hand for that pile of calico shirt just out of reach.

Miss Tanough did not flinch in the company of undressed men. But the woman who piled into the room after her, a great heaving and flapping of chintz below a blousy dupatta and a round olive face, speechless as well for lack of breath, was very much discountenanced by the sight. She was the duenna, upon Christ’s life, and she was, to Anakin’s mind, not making a very auspicious beginning.

Only yesterday had she been led to the altar by the Gloriana’s master, her particular beau whenever that vessel dropped anchor in Diamond Harbor; the whole affair, including a wedding breakfast at the most respectable tavern in town, had been paid off handsomely by Commodore Ferris in order that Miss Tanough might have a chaperone unobjectionable to the Navy Board, to himself, to the crew, to General Kenobey, to Lady Tanough and to the Almighty, in that order. The newly-minted Mrs Olga Lucas was some parts Portuguese and passably of that nation, and whatsmore she was a Papist, which would satisfy Lady Tanough, who understood all females of that religion to be something akin to nuns.

Kenobey had not known of the regulations forbidding unmarried, unintended women aboard ships-of-war, the Commodore had supposed, or he would not have asked such an inconvenient and awkward favor. As Miss Tanough was not intended for anyone, she required a much older woman to make her sex and her sixteen years excusable, and the calculations of this problem had occupied Codry’s mind ever since he had received his patron’s offhand missive from the Masulipatam Road.

While this patron penned Mrs Lucas’s fresh credentials to Hyderabad, a hundred desculpes, senhores and cries to mãe de Deus were given up before the the poor, press-ganged bride succeeded in sweetly shaming her new charge from the gentlemen’s door with a bizarre patois of Portuguese, Hindoostani, and very bad English.

Silence returned, wafted around the room by the deaf punkah wallah next door and meekly broken by the creaking of the ropes.

“Hell and death, what a brassy chit!” exclaimed Anakin, who made no effort to rise. “We shall have no rest from here to the Solent, mark my words.”

Captain Rex did not mark them, nor did he half attend. Miss Tanough’s riding habit had been fetching in the extreme and he was hastily brushing out his best coat.

#rexsoka #rexsokaweek #star wars au #captain rex #anakin skywalker #biscuit fic

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electra-xt · 4 years

Note

midnight hotline is one of my favorite fics! it's so rare to find an author willing to treat both luther AND diego as, yk, three-dimensional characters instead of caricatures. i was wondering if you still have interest in their dynamic after s2? tbh i love reading your lists of headcanons, so would delight in any thoughts you have about them as a ship or polycule w/ other characters. no worries if not! thank you either way for feeding us the good content!

ahhh thank you!! luther deserves sooo much more than the fandom gives him, doesn’t he? (although i feel like after the initial s1 backlash i now see a lot of posts that wax eloquent about how poor luther is misunderstood and the most traumatized, so perhaps people are seeing it differently.) they deserve to be three-dimensional characters! they have the potential! even if the writers in season 2 decided to dumb them down a ridiculous amount. olga foroga? everyone leaving diego hanging with ‘team zero’? it felt like the writers were like “well tom hopper has great comedic timing. what if we did that and nothing else.” that being said though, i DID like how when luther stormed out of elliot’s house, diego followed him and tried to give him a pep talk. good shit! enemies to brothers!

i don’t think i’d personally write more about luther/diego as a couple— midnight hotline encapsulates pretty much all i have to say about the two of them, tbh. in terms of polycules i am a huge fan of luther/allison/diego as a threesome and i can trace this back to the fight scene at the academy in s1e3 which was decadent for a simple person such as myself who appreciates competent people kicking ass together. the reason i love luther, diego, and allison together is the power dynamics between them and the rest of the academy” luther obviously was number one, allison had an extremely socially potent power, and diego schemed all he could to climb in his status. in general, i’m much more interested in stories about powerful people experiencing a reckoning with their status and assumptions than i am about underestimated underdogs. so i am enthusiastic and excited when i see them all kicking ass togethee

i actually wrote about 7-8k words of a second luther/allison/diego fic last december, but i don’t think i’ll be able to finish it— buuut i can post a snippet here! the premise is that they are teenagers at the academy, allison is goading them into manifesting their sexual tension, and diego and luther are coming back from sneaking out to a club :)

The footsteps got louder. Allison inhaled and then exhaled, forcibly calming herself, and then she heard the sound of familiar laughter.

“They fucking loved you, man, don’t act so surprised. You can’t go in a club flexing all your muscles like that and then act like it’s crazy when girls start coming up to you and petting you.”

“I wasn’t trying to flex at anyone— you told me this shirt was fine.”

“It is,” Diego said, “if you’re trying to get laid.”

“You said it was normal.”

“Wanting to get laid is normal, buddy. We’re at the house. Come on, I’ll show you how to get back in.”

Allison stubbed out her cigarette on the metal piping on the roof, and then she climbed out onto her window, perching carefully on the windowsill as they came around the corner into the courtyard.

Luther was dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a white tank top. It clung to every curve of his muscles. No wonder the girls had gone crazy over him. He looked good, appealing in a rugged way, yet less rough-and-tumble than Diego, who looked like he was smudged with some girl’s body glitter. Luther was leaning on Diego a little bit as he walked. The two of them looked excruciatingly perfect in the dim light, and Allison let out a tiny sigh.

“You good?” Diego said, looking up at Luther.

“Can we,” Luther said, “just sit for a moment?”

“You really need to?” Diego said.

“Yeah,” Luther said, stumbling to the bench in the courtyard and sitting down hard. “Yeah.”

“Oh, baby, you’re drunk,” Diego said, in awe.

“So?” Luther said. “Don’t you do this all the time?”

“I’ll have a drink,” Diego said, sitting down next to him. “But it’s not really the point of going out.”

“You’re tipsy right now,” Luther said. He reached in and tapped Diego’s nose.

Diego batted his hand away too quickly, and Luther laughed. “I don’t usually drink too much,” Diego said. “It’s… special occasions.”

“Like this?” Luther said.

“Going out with my clueless straight boy brother?” Diego said. “Yeah, I’d say that’s special.”

“I don’t know why you’re always telling me I’m straight,” Luther said.

“‘Cause you are,” Diego said. “I mean, I’m not— it’s not a big deal. I don’t care about it. Thought I just… we both know where we stand.”

“I’m not straight,” Luther said.

There was no noise. Allison leaned out the window a little further.

“Oh,” Diego said.

“You wanted to know where we… stood,” Luther said.

“Yeah,” Diego said.

“Is that a problem?”

“You keep it pretty quiet,” Diego said.

“So do you,” Luther said.

“Fuck,” Diego said. He rubbed his face. “This whole time, gay chicken, I thought you were a…”

“I’m not a clueless straight boy,” Luther said.

“You’re a clueless not-straight boy.”

“Diego.”

“Sorry,” Diego said, sounding the opposite of sorry, but he was quiet for a moment. The next time he spoke, he sounded tentative. “You’re really into guys, huh?”

“Don’t be weird about it,” Luther said, looking down at his hands.

“I’m not, man, I promise,” Diego said. He laughed a little. “I mean, I get it better than anybody.”

“It’s not really a part of me I thought about a lot,” Luther said. “Until Allison’s… game.”

“Allison made it weird,” Diego said.

Allison felt a flush of shame from her perch on the windowsill. Fuck her intentions. Fuck herself. Whenever she tried to intervene in a situation, save for a crime scene, she always dug her fingers in too far and made a mess, didn’t she? And Jesus, she didn’t even rumor them this time.

“Yeah,” Luther said. He paused.

“What?” Diego said.

“I don’t know,” Luther said. He still wasn’t looking at him. “You’re right. It’s weird.”

“She has some balls to pull this shit,” Diego said. He shook his head. “Gay chicken.”

“I don’t mind that it’s weird,” Luther said.

Allison went still.

“Really,” Diego said.

Luther shifted. “I know it’s— weird that I don’t think it’s weird, because it’s weird, but—”

“Are you into it?” Diego said, voice low.

Allison could barely breathe from the silence.

Luther looked down.

“Hey,” Diego said, tipping Luther’s chin up with his hand. “You get shy all of a sudden?”

“Diego,” Luther said, “are you…” He shook his head, as if chastising himself. “Are you—”

He cut himself off. Allison watched him, holding her breath, and she could see Diego watching him too. Everything seemed to hinge on Luther in this moment— unlike every mission in which he was Number One, titled as the captain, the boy king, and it was easy to brush him off. But right now, from her windowsill, Allison was magnetically drawn to the boy on the bench with a question in his mouth and a white undershirt that seemed to glow in the nighttime.

“You can say it,” Diego said quietly.

“You don’t know what it is,” Luther said.

“If I knew,” Diego said, “I wouldn’t need you to say it.”

Luther swallowed.

“C’mon,” Diego said. “Let it out.”

His voice was hushed. Allison could barely hear him. Luther looked up at him, disbelieving.

“Are you into me?” Luther said, looking up at him.

Diego nodded, once. Then he nodded again. “Yeah,” he said. “I— this whole time, Allison’s game, I wanted… you better not be fucking with me, you better not tell anyone, I swear to God— you better forget this when you sober up tomorrow.”

“No,” Luther said.

Diego blinked. “What?”

“I don’t want to forget,” Luther said, and he dragged Diego in and kissed him.

#replies #shipping talk

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