#re. au ↳ sons of anarchy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sudoki-sara · 4 years

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Decided on yes I will make more rwby Hamilton au. These Hamilton songs are Aaron burr sir and my shot

Citizens: 1776. Feldspar City.

Jaune: Pardon me. Are you Ruby Rose ma’am?

Ruby: That depends. Who’s asking?

Jaune: Oh, well, sure, ma’am. I’m Jaune Arc I’m at you service, ma’am. I have been looking for you.

Ruby: I’m getting nervous.

Jaune: Ma’am... I heard your name at Coquina. I was seeking an accelerated course of study when I got sort of out of sorts with a buddy of yours. I may have punch him. It’s a blur, ma’am. He handle the financials?

Ruby: You punched the bursar.

Jaune: Yes! I wanted to do what you did. Graduate in two, then join the revaluation. He looked at me like I was stupid. I’m not stupid so how’d you do it? How’d you graduate so fast?

Ruby: It was my mother’s dying wish before she passed.

Jaune: You’re an orphan. Of course I’m an orphan god, I wish there was a war! Then we could prove that we’re worth more than anyone bargained for...

Ruby: Can I buy you a drink?

Jaune: That would be nice.

Ruby: While we’re talking. Let me offer you some free advice talk less.

Jaune: What?

Ruby: Smile more.

Jaune: Ha.

Ruby: Don’t let them know what you’re against or what you’re for.

Jaune: You can’t be serious.

Ruby: You wanna get ahead?

Jaune: Yes.

Ruby: Fools who run their mouths off wind up dead.

Weiss: Yo yo yo yo yo! What time is it?

Weiss/Ren/Nora: Show time!

Ruby: Like I said.

Weiss: Show time show time! I’m Weiss Schnee in the place to be! Two pints of O’ Sam Adams but I’m working on three, uh! Those Redcoats don’t want it with me! Cuz I will pop chick-a pop these cops till I’m free!

Ren: Oui oui, mon ami, je mappelle Lie Ren! The Lancelot of the revolutionary set! I came from afar just to say bonsoir! Tell the king “Casse toi! Who’s the best cest moi!”

Nora: Brrrah brraaah! I am Nora Valkyrie up in it, lovin it, yes I heard your mother say “come again.”

Ren/Weiss: Ayyyy

Nora: Lock up ya daughters and horses. Of course it’s hard to have intercourses over four sets of corsets...

Ren: wow

Weiss: No more sex, pour me another brew, son! Let’s raise a couple more...

Weiss/Nora/Ren: To the revolution!

Weiss: Well if it ain’t the prodigy of Beacon Academy.

Nora: Ruby Rose!

Weiss: Give us a verse. Drop some knowledge!

Ruby: Good luck with that. You’re takin’ a stand you spit Imma sit we’ll see where we land.

Nora/Ren: Booo

Weiss: Ruby, the revolution is imminent. What do you stall for?

Jaune: If you stand for nothing, Ruby, what’ll you fall for?

Ren/Nora/Weiss: Ooh, who you? Who you? Who are you? Ooh, who is this kid? What’s he gonna do?

I was gonna end it here but then I remembered how “My Shot” continues this song so...

Jaune: I am not throwing away my shot! I am not throwing away my shot! Hey yo, I’m just like my crountry young, scrappy, and hungry and I’m not throwing away my shot!

Jaune: Imma get a scholarship to Shade Academy I prob’ly shouldn’t brag, but dag, I amaze and astonish. The problem is I got a lot of brains but no polish. I gotta holler just to be heard. With every word, I drop knowledge.

Jaune: I’m a diamond in the rough, a shiny piece of coal. Tryin’ to reach my goal. My power of speech: unimpeachable. Only nineteen but my mind is older. These Feldspar city streets get colder, I shoulder.

Jaune: Ev’ry burden, ev’ry disadvantage. I have learned to manage, I don’t have a gun to brandish. I walk these streets famished.

Jaune: The plan is to fan this spark into a flame. But damn, it’s getting dark, so let me spell out the name I am the—

Jaune/Ren/Nora/Weiss/ J-A-U-N-E-A-R-C— We are—meant to be...

Jaune: A colony that runs independently. Meanwhile, Atlas Keeps shittin on us endlessly. Essentially, they tax us relentlessly. Then General James turns around, runs a spending spree. He ain’t ever gonna set his descendants free. So there will be a revolution in this century. Enter me!

Ren/Nora/Weiss: He says in parenthesis.

Jaune: Don’t be shocked when your Hist’ry book mentions me. I will lay down my life if it sets us free. Eventually you’ll see my ascendancy.

Jaune: And I am not throwing away my shot!

Weiss: My shot!

Jaune: I am not throwing away my shot!

Weiss: My shot!

Jaune: Hey yo, I’m just like my country. I’m young, scrappy, and hungry. And I’m not throwing away my shot!

Ren/Nora/Weiss: I am not throwing away my shot! I am not throwing away my shot! Hey yo, I’m just like my country I’m young, scrappy, and hungry and I’m not throwing away my shot! It’s time to take a shot!

Ren: I dream of life without a monarchy. The unrest in Vale will lead to ‘onarchy? ‘Onarchy? How you say, how you say, ‘anarchy? When I fight I make the other side panicky. With my—

All four: SHOT!

Nora: Yo, I’m a tailors apprentice. And I got y’all knuckleheads in loco parentis. I’m joining the rebellion cuz I know it’s my chance. To socially advance, instead of sewin’ some pants! I’m gonna take a—

All four: SHOT!

Weiss: But we’ll never be truly free. Until those in bondage have the same rights as you and me. You and I. Do or die. Wait till I sally in on a stallion with the first black battalion. Have another—

All four: SHOT!

Ruby: Geniuses, lower your voices. You keep out of trouble and you double your choices. I’m with you, but the situation is fraught. You’ve got to be carefully taught: if you talk your gonna get shot!

Jaune: Ruby, check what we got. Mister Lie Ren, hard rock like Lancelot I think your pants look hot. Weiss I like you a lot let’s hatch a plot blacker than the kettle callin’ the pot.

Jaune: What are the odds the gods would put us all in one spot. Poppin’ a squat on conventional wisdom, like it or not. A bunch of revolutionary manumission abolitionists? Give me a position, show me where the ammunition is!

Jaune: Oh, am I talking’ too loud? Sometimes I get overexcited, shout off at the mouth. I never had a group of friends before. I Promise that I’ll make y’all proud.

Weiss: Let’s get this guy in front of a crowd!

All four: I am not throwing away my shot! I am not throwing away my shot! Hey yo, I’m just like my country I’m young, scrappy, and hungry and I’m not throwing away my shot!

Weiss: Everybody sing:Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Hey! Whoa! Wooh! Whoa! Aye let em hear ya! Let’s go!

Jaune/Ren/Nora: Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Yea!

Citizens: Woah! Woah! Woah! Woah! Woah! Yea!

Weiss: I said shout it to the rooftops! Said, to the rooftops! Come on! Come on let’s go!

Weiss: Rise up! When you’re living on your knees, you rise up! Tell your brother that he’s gotta rise up! Tell your sister that she’s gotta rise up!

Weiss/Citizens: When are these colonies gonna rise up?

Citizens: Whoa! Whoa!

Weiss/citizens: When are the colonies gonna rise up?

Citizens: Whoa!

Weiss/citizens: When are these colonies gonna rise up?

Citizens: Whoa!

Weiss/Citizens: When are these colonies gonna rise up? Rise up!

Jaune: I imagine death so much that it feels more like a memory. When’s it gonna get me? In my sleep? Seven feet ahead of me? If I see it comin’, do I run or do I let it be? Is it like a beat without a melody?

Jaune: See I never thought I’d live past twenty. Where I come from some get half as many. Ask anybody why we livin’ fast and we laugh, reach for a flask. We have to make this moment last, that’s plenty.

Jaune: Scratch that, this is not a moment, it’s the movement where all the hungriest brothers with something to prove went? Foes oppose us, we take an honest stand we roll like Moses, claimin’ our promised land.

Jaune: And? If we win our independence? Is that a guarantee of freedom for our descendants? Or will the blood we shed begin an endless cycle of vengeance and death with no defendant?

Jaune: I know the action in the street is excitin’ but Jesus, between all the bleedin’ and fightin’ I’ve been readin’ ‘n writin’ we need to handle our financial situation. Are we a nation of states? What’s the state of our nation?

Jaune: I’m past patiently waitin’. I’m passionately smashin’ every expectation every action’s an act of creation. I’m laughin’ in the face of casualties and sorrow. For the first time, I’m thinkin’ past tomorrow!

Jaune/Citizens: And I am not throwing away my shot! I am not throwing away my shot! Hey yo I’m just like my country I’m young, scrappy, and hungry and I’m not throwing away my shot!

Jaune/Ren/Nora/Weiss: We’re gonna rise up! Time to take a shot! We’re gonna rise up! Time to take a shot!

Citizens: Not throwing away my shot! Not throwing away my shot!

Jaune/Ren/Nora/Weiss: We’re gonna

Citizens: We’re gonna rise up rise up

Jaune: Time to take a shot.

Citizens: Rise up Rise up!

Jaune/Ren/Nora/Weiss: Time to take a shot!

Citizens: Rise up!

JRNW: Time to take a shot!

Citizens: Rise up!

JNRW: Take a shot shot shot!

Citizens: Ri—ri—ri

JNRW: A-yo it’s time to take a shot! Time to take a shot! And I am— Not throwin’ away my—

Citizens: Time to take a shot! Time to take a shot! And I am— Not throwin’ away my shot!

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #hamilton #rwby hamilton au #lie ren #nora valkyrie #weiss schnee

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gottaenjoythelittlethingzz · 5 years

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Writeblr Re-Introduction*

*Some day all these pages will be full

Greetings folks! Some of you may remember me, some of you only started following me after I went on hiatus. Since this blog is over two years old and approaching 3k followers, I thought it would be a good idea for me to make a re-introductory post before jumping back into the fray and tagging people out of nowhere.

My name is Nevada. I’m F in my twenties, I’m on the acearo spectrums, and I’m a self-proclaimed writer. In fact, I started referring to myself as such so often I had to become an English major (and I minor in film). When college courses are not draining the life out of me, I like to write, dissect the overabundance of media I consume, and cuddle with my rabbit.

I want to reengage with the Writeblr community. I hope to meet new people, dig into others’ WIPs/OCs, and rekindle my creativity. I also need a productive way to procrastinate working on my personal writing projects.

My WIPs:

https://gottaenjoythelittlethingzz.tumblr.com/post/182485797542/the-reapers-only-daughter-chapter-1

FanFiction WIP: An AU retelling of the Sons of Anarchy series meant to be a multi chapter fic with a powerful female lead and overlapping plot lines. Most of the content I produce on this blog centers around this WIP and the lead OC character.

https://gottaenjoythelittlethingzz.tumblr.com/post/186421906907/new-wip-introduction

(My first) Original fiction WIP: BGG is a period piece centered around Vikings, tribes, conflicting moral values, and social issues/stance that people of the modern times can surprisingly relate to. If only I’d sit down and write it!!

I’ve yet to write a single word for this story. The idea formulated at the end of last year before I entered my break. I’m currently working on an outline for it whenever I get bored of TROD and want to change genres/settings for a while.

I’d love to chat about either project and hear about yours in return!! Come into my ask box and we can do facts swaps, trade questions, tag each other in games, and share our processes! If you’re interested in either of these WIPs, look for the tags Nevada writes, my WIPs, my OCs, tag games, and moodboards. I take questions and story prompts as well as participate in tag and community games!!

What I write:

FanFiction (mostly)

Short original fiction stories

(Found) family/friendship stories

Thrillers/dramas, some action and romances

Large cast driven stories w/ multiple POVs

Narratives with LGBTQ+ characters as leads

What you will find on this blog:

Original writing memes/tips, tag and community games, edits/moodboards, and segments of my writing projects

Reblogged writing advice/memes

Reblogged tag games, OC/WIP posts/art from writers/artists I admire

Motivational posts

Interact with this post if:

Any of the above interests you!

If you’re an active or new Writeblr (especially if you write FanFiction!)

If you interact reguarly with the community and/or tag games (especially if I can tag you in return!)

If you write stories with animals, zombies, werewolves, vampires, or metamorphic elements (as these are my favorite niche genres, horror is not relative but acceptable)

If you write prison/gangster/crime genre pieces (as it is my favorite collective genre)

If you write stories with LGBTQ+, POC, or Poly characters

If you’re 18+ (not required but as I grow older I write more adult/nsfw content)

I’ll try to be as active in the community as possible! New content is neither regular or guaranteed, but it comes whenever the inspiration strikes! This blog also runs on a queue, but if you tag me in something or send me things or interact in some way I’ll answer ASAP! I’ll check out the blogs of those who interact and follow back!!

*Edit: This blog is a side blog! I follow and reply to posts from my main @lnevada A fandom based blog!! Come chat with me over there for none writing related things!!

Until the next blog update,

~Nevada

#writeblr intro #writeblr community #writblr community #tag me in stuff #lets interact #nevada speaks #writer friends #my wips #wip: trod #wip: bgg #fanfiction writer

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eamesandbellamyaremyheaven · 5 years

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Heart of Novocaine Ch2|| Jax Teller x Sansa Stark (SoA/GoT)

Sons of Anarchy x Game of Thrones AU (show divergent)

Warnings: none for now, but there will be violence and smut in the future - with SAMCRO what do you expect? 😜

Summary: After loosing her mother and elder brother in an accident, Sansa takes her younger siblings and moves in with Jon, who lives in Charming, to start anew, amidst from and the suffering and heartache from the past. But can she adapt to Jon’s dangerous lifestyle? And what if her “past” comes looking for her? And for how long will she be able to abstain herself from the alluring advances of Jax?

Chapter One ||

Chapter Two - Bird on the Wire

Sansa sat down on top of her bed covers, crossing her legs under herself, waiting for Margaery to accept the video call. She looked to her side, watching as Arya was sound asleep, with her back turned to her. In her younger years, she had always complained having to share her room with her sister, and now, both grown-ass women, had to share a bed. A fucking bed. Thank god it was a big, double bed, or Sansa would’ve rather slept on the floor. Arya was a lousy bed companion, and during the night would throw her legs on top of Sansa’s, or somehow she would manage to slap Sansa on her face and chest. And there was also the matter of the drunk snoring, something Sansa had experienced the last time they went camping, when they stole their parents a couple bottles of whiskey and played drinking games.

“Hellooo, earth to Sans!?” Margaery high pitched voice echoed through the phone, calling Sansa out of her daydreaming

“Sorry, I’m here” Sansa apologized, smiling fondly “I missed you so much, Margie! How are you?”

“Oh, you know, bored to the core, nothing fun happens here” Margaery pouted, before continuing “How about you, living with a biker gang... Anyone worth mentioning?” she asked, giggling her eyebrows suggestively

Him “No” Sansa tried to sound nonchalant, but she knew she had failed, as she felt her cheeks warming up, something that her best-friend had also noticed

“You sure?” she teased

“Yeah, I’m sure” Sansa said, rolling her eyes, but her grin was hard to miss. Those damned eyes...

“Sansa, dear, by the way you’re blushing, I bet those pajama trousers are wet as hell”

“Margaery!” Sansa yelped, bringing her spare hand up to cover her face, as her friend laughed happily. Margaery always pushed her just the right way, and she became a different person around her. More loose, confident, and daring, and Sansa loved the power that transpired from her, when she was with Margaery. She looked to her side, and Arya was deep in her heavy sleep “Okay, I’m gonna tell you something, but you cannot, I repeat CANNOT tell anyone”

Margaery smiled deviously “Cross my heart”

“Jon’s been friends with this guy since his teens, right, and he was the one that introduced him to the club. It so happens that his family owns the auto shop we work in and he’s also smoking hot, I mean, steaming hot, drop dead gorgeous, looks that could kill kind guy. And you know what’s the worst?”

“what?”

“He knows he’s so damn irresistible, and he’s not afraid to show it. And he keeps teasing me, and calling me Red, and I’m trying really hard to keep my distance because I know nothing good will come from messing with him, but he’s starting to get on my nerves. Even the way he smokes is stupidly sexy, and that smug grin does things to me that I’m too ashamed to say out loud”

Sansa finished with a sigh, feeling a lot better for finally talking about her frustrations with her best-friend. Margaery, on the other end, was silent.

“You need to get laid” she finally said, despite the protests that erupted out of Sansa “So let me get this straight. Your boss is a hottie, your personal Christian Gray in leather, whiskey and smoke, that keeps flirting with you, and you’re having second thoughts?” Margaery asked, dumbfounded

“He’s my boss” Sansa recalled

“Yeah, I know”

“And he’s Jon’s best - and quite possibly - only friend” Sansa pressed

“That’s unfortunate. For Jon”

“Margie!”

“Alright, I get it, off limits” the brunette said, bringing her arms up, as a gesture of surrender “But I still think you need to get laid, to get him off your mind”

“Any suggestions?” Sansa joked, as her friend brought her hands down, and looked up, thoughtful

“The 4th of July weekend is coming up in a couple weeks, I could visit you and I would help you find a gentleman that is willing to... assist you in that matter. I can take Loras with me and we’d go out to a bar, or something. It’ll be fun” she finished, with a wink

Sansa chuckled “You’re my hero”

“I’m happy you be of service”

Sansa looked to the clock on the bed table, it was twenty minutes past midnight.

“I need to go to sleep now, but we’ll talk about your visit tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay. Love you, bestie” Margaery waved and sent a kiss

“Love you more, bestie” Sansa replied, before ending the call

She sat the phone down on the table, next to the clock, and slipped inside the covers, feeling happy knowing her best-friend in the world was coming to spend a couple days with her, and she would finally get rid of that itch that was a certain mister Jax Teller.

*~*~*~*

Sansa set down the last book on the shelf with a self-satisfied grin on her face, as she finally finished organizing the accounting books of the Teller-Morrow Autoshop. It took her the better part of two weeks to do it, too, and countless late evenings, but it was done.

“Fuckin’ finally” said Gemma, as she tapped a stack of papers on the tabletop, aligning them perfectly, and set them inside a folder, closing it promptly “I’s starting to think we’d never see the end of it”

“Well, it’s done” Sansa stated, with a smile, and the older woman smiled back.

Sansa liked Gemma a lot, and it seemed to her that the feeling was reciprocate. Gemma had taken her in her wing, these past couple weeks, and Sansa had learned that there was nothing Gemma wouldn’t do for her family, and the club. All she asked in return was devotion, and honesty. She would occasionally ask about Sansa’s life before she came to Charming, about her family, her friends, and past lovers, and if there was a topic Sansa would evade - past lovers - she wouldn’t press on.

“So, have you got any plans for the 4th of July?” Gemma inquired, with a raised eyebrow, as she leaned back on her chair and lighted a cigarette, as Sansa sat down on her chair

“Actually yes, I do. My best-friend and her brother are coming for the weekend. Arya and the boys cleaned the backyard, and the pool, and I think we’ll have a BBQ” Sansa raised her head and looked towards Gemma, as an idea settled in “You should come. I mean, Jon could invite the club, everyone brings the family, and we’ll have a good time”

Gemma laughed “Oh honey, they would bring the house down”

“No, it’ll be fun, I like having them around”

Sansa was caught by surprise by her own admission. They were starting to grow on her. Gemma had been right, they were a big family, there was no way around it.

“Alright then” Gemma grinned, and Sansa noticed it was the same smug smile Jax had “But we need a fuckload of beer”

*~*~*~*

Even though it was only the beginning of the week, and the holiday was only on Sunday, Gemma had insisted to do the shopping beforehand. She had to stop by the cleaners, she had said. For that, Sansa was left “in charge” of the shop. It was not the first time, really, but it was the first time something went terribly wrong.

“FUCK!”

Sansa rushed to the garage, her heart pounding on her ears, when she noticed a terrified Eddie jumping up and down with his hands clasped on his butt-cheeks, while the rest of the group, Tig, Chibs, Jon and Juice stood there laughing their arses off, practically into tears.

“What in the hell happened!?” Sansa snaps, eyes wide and hands over her hips

“We’re just playin’ with the prospect, that’s all” Juice says in between coughs, as he tried to contain his laughter, as the rest of the group were too

“THEY SHOT ME IN THE ASS!!!” Half-Sack yells, and the loud laughter returned

Sansa frowned, looking at Jon with menace, and he began to explain, knowing fully well that she would kick his ass in front of the Sons if she didn’t get an answer “It was an accident, Sans. With a nail gun. He came out of nowhere, and-”

“Someone needs to take him to the ER” Sansa cut him off, pointing at the poor boy

“It’s nothing, no need to worry that pretty head of yours” Juice retorted, as the laughter was dying out

“You know what, Juice? You better watch your mouth or I’ll slap the bullshit out of you!”

There’s not a sound on the garage. Jon is wide-eyed and mouth open, paralyzed on the spot. Tig and Chibs, the wonder-duo, had adverted their gaze to anywhere expect her imposing frame, and Juice’s expression is a mix of confusion, and admiration.

“Whoa Sans, didn’t mean to upset ya” he said in an apologetic tone

“Just forget it, I’ll take him. C’mon Eddie, let’s go”

Sansa stormed out, pulling her car keys out of her back pocket, followed closely by an agonized prospect. She never meant to snap like that, specially at Juice, whose company she’d learned to appreciate over time, pet names aside. He was funny and kinda sweet, although a little empty-headed. She would apologized when she returned from the hospital, she had decided. But for now, she wanted to leave him feeling guilty for pushing her buttons a little too far. As she was reaching the door, she heard Juice’s voice “Damn Jon, ya sis got some big balls of steel!”

*~*~*~*

Jax enjoyed these little private times with Abel. Of course, for the baby it was all the same, whether he was there or not, but for him it meant the world. Abel was his world, at least, the innocent part of him that he hoped to preserve unstained. There was no hope for him and Wendy, no love left, but for Abel he knew, in his heart, that he had something good left to give.

So he would visit his baby son, and he would talk with him, for him, for a couple of hours everyday. And the baby responded well to his voice, Tara had said, as he was growing strong everyday. Jax couldn’t be more proud of the little ass-kicker.

The only matter he was still wary of was Tara, as in being around Tara and not get his heart broken, again. Tara had bailed on him once, and he knew that if things went south she’d do it again, it was her classic MO. Still, having her around once more made him optimistic, thinking that maybe this time she would stay with him.

But did he wanted her to stay? With him, for the matter? If felt bittersweet, thinking of Tara, looking back to their childhood good times and the way they’d loved one another without remembering the way he felt when she left. The hurt of the betrayal was still very present on his mind, and he wasn’t sure he could trust her again like he used to, specially now, that a wrong turn, a bad decision could affect directly the club, and his family.

And, to complicate things further, as if they weren’t a big mess as they were already, there was the growing infatuation on a certain redheaded goddess, a crush he didn’t seem to have any control of, that was leaving him a sleepless moron and a daydreamer, like a love-fool. He hated the power she had over him, even if she didn’t know it. She was too good for his lifestyle, anyway. What would happen to the sweet Sansa, being thrown into a world of chaos, blood and violence? He would never let that happen to her, he had decided, she deserved better.

Jax waved goodbye to Tara, and glance once over to Abel, as he left the nursery. He walked his confident stride, but he knew his face showed different, a bit gloomy. He hated when he was logical. Now he was brooding, he though to himself. What in the hell was she doing to him!?

As he walked by the emergency room, he noticed a tall frame of a woman with hair the colour of fire, that even behind a curtain he could see the bright shades of red, and he stopped abruptly.

“Sansa?” he called, hesitantly, pushing the curtain aside slightly, just enough for him to peek through. She turned around, in surprise, but as soon as her eyes met his her face softened, and she gave him one of those smiles that race his heart, boiled his blood, and shook his bones.

“Oh- hey Jax” she said gently, and he rushed forward

“What happened?” he asked, and she raised her hand, pointing at Half-Sack. He was lying in the stretch facing down, his bloody butt-cheek sticking out of the hospital robe.

Jax raised his brow at Sansa, the curiosity of the situation making him grin, or maybe it was the sinful looks she was sending him as she spoke.

“Juice shot him in the ass with a nail gun”

Jax crossed his arms over his chest, trying really hard not to laugh his ass off. He looked at the boy, and back at Sansa, who was looking back at him, biting her lower lip, obviously trying not to laugh too. So fucking adorable.

“Well, I bet you can find a good use to that hole too” he finally said, mockingly, not being able to hold it in anymore

“Oh, screw you Jax!” Eddie yelled, raising his head at him, flustered

“I just might let you, if I can use the new hole” he said, winking at him, as Sansa made a repulsed expression and shove him aside, making him finally burst in laughter

“Jax, what are you still doin-?” Tara walked in, but stopped abruptly as she noticed he was not alone.

“Tara, this is Sansa and Half-Sack, they work at the autoshop. Tara’s the doc looking after Abel, and she’s an old-friend” Jax explained, the latter part more directly at Sansa, although he wasn’t sure why

Tara glance at Sansa quickly, as she walked towards the stretch, holding the patient chart, analyzing it “It’s a small puncture, there’ll be no need for stitches. Just the tetanus shot and a bandage, and he’s out in 20 minutes, max”

“Thank you” Sansa said with a soft smile, and Tara smiled back

“Well, in that case I’m going back to the TM. Sans, need a lift?” he cursed himself under his breath, Tara was looking at him with curiosity

“Nah, I’ll wait for Eddie”

Eddie? What the fuck!? When did he became Eddie!?

“Besides, I brought my car” she finished with an apologetic smile

“Sure, whatever” he tried to sound casual, uninterested, but by the way Sansa looked confused, and Tara amused, he knew he was failing miserably. He needed to get out of there, quickly. He grabbed a cig as he turned around to the exit, already knowing the reaction he would draw out of Tara

“NO SMOKING INSIDE THE HOSPITAL!”

*~*~*~*

Sansa watched as Jax left the room, unsure of what to think of what had just happened. Jax looked uneasy when Tara joined them, they obviously had more in common than an old-friendship. Not that Sansa cared, anyways. Okay, maybe she cared a little. Tara was stunning, and she had a medical degree. She was no croweater.

“Hey, I’m gonna stop by Abel’s, do you wanna come with me?” Tara asks, and Sansa hesitates “It won’t take long, it’s just enough time for the nurse to take care to your friend”

Sansa couldn’t decline, it would be rude. So she nodded, and followed quietly the doctor into the nursery, stopping dead in her tracks as she saw the baby. Abel was lying inside an incubator, tubes covering his small frame and dressed only in a diaper. Sansa felt herself gasp at the sight of the fragile body, a recent scar covering most of his chest.

“He was born with an hereditary heart condition, passed on from Jax’s family” Tara noted, as she walked closer to the incubator. She looked back at Sansa, who was petrified at the door, and made a motion with her hand, pleading for her to join her.

“He was also born premature, due to his mother’s drug abuse”

“I know, Gemma told me” Sansa heard herself say, low and mechanical, as she could not advert her eyes from Abel. She felt herself grabbing hold of her own left wrist, brushing her finger softly over the handkerchief she wore folded as a bracelet. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about him...

“You need to be careful with Gemma” Tara said, and Sansa looked away from the baby, right into her eyes “There’s nothing she wouldn’t do for her family. And that makes her dangerous”

Sansa wasn’t a stupid girl. She knew Gemma was dangerous. They all were.

“I know what Gemma is, I know what they all are capable of” her gaze was intense, determined “But my brother Jon is a member of the club, so this is my home now. They can’t frighten me”

Tara shook her head, recognizing the eminent defeat, as the end of her mouth curled up slightly, obviously impressed by Sansa’s boldness. From now on she would think twice before underestimate Sansa ever again, for sure.

“May God help you then”

A.N.//- Well, here’s the second chapter! Didn’t expected to finish it so soon, but I’m really excited with this story progression. If the end seemed rushed, it’s because the chapter was getting long, and I didn’t wanted to break it in two. There will be plenty of Sansa and Tara interactions in the future, I promisse!

Sorry for any mispellings, english is not my native language, and I don’t have a beta-reader. Feedback = Love!

Taglist is OPEN: @lokilvrr

#heartofnovocainefic #jax teller #sansa stark #sanjax #jax teller imagine #sansa stark imagine #crossover #fanfiction #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #jax teller fanfiction #sansa stark fanfiction #game of thrones #game of thones au #soa #got #got au #eabamh masterlist

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irelise · 5 years

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Fanfic Meme- A, H, I, K, N, R?

A: Of the fanfic you’ve written, which is your favorite and why? the yew tree, by far! It’s my first ever longfic, my first time really trying to write romance and falling in love, my first time trying to do things like foreshadowing and twists and symbolism. Lots of firsts, and I think I’ll remember this fic forever!

H: How would you describe your writing style? an attempt at being sparse but evocative and #aesthetic, only to be foiled by the fact i can’t shut up because i like digging into thoughts and introspection too much. “Show don’t tell” is so hard to put into action when you love the characters and want to spend paragraphs talking about their every thought, aaaaaaaa

I: How many fandoms have you written in? Do you have a favorite? I’ve written in two main fandoms: tales of the abyss and the alternate timeline movies for x-men! (counting the ff.net days ive dabbled in a few more fandoms here and there but we don’t talk about that)

Of the two, Abyss feels more comfy for me to write in BUT i think i like writing for xmfc more. xmfc is a much larger fandom so getting feedback feels super nice! also, abyss is an amazing, perfect canon (and the characters can be hard to AU) so it feels like, idk, there aren’t very many stories i have a driving need to tell there. whereas with xmfc i love the characters, i love some elements of the canon setting, and i love taking those things that interest me and building AUs out of them!

K: Do you have a guilty pleasures in fic (reading or writing)? I THINK you already know all my guilty pleasures kink wise, but for guilty pleasure tropes... i love animal fic where a character is turned into an animal HAHAHA they’re so silly and ridiculous and i eat it all up!

R: Which writers (fanfic or otherwise) do you consider the biggest influence on you and your writing? SO MANY! I really adore @kianspo and yahtzee’s “Anarchy in the UK” especially for the way they write Charles and the way they tackle romance and human relationships in general. style-wise i love the sort of lyrical style the fisher king’s son, and i love that thing where something at the end of the fic makes you go OH SHIT and immediately want to re-read again because some revelation just cast the fic in a whole new light!

N: Any fic ideas brewing that you’d care to share? There’s an idea i have for rarepairs fest i think is ok to share since I won’t get around to it in time (because there’s too much stuff/plot i need to look up)! The prompt is by @mnemo-ink for a witcher-ish AU. Erik and Logan are a duo of witchers who are also fuckbuddies. They’re hired by the reclusive lord Charles Xavier to cleanse his ancestral lands of monsters. Before the first week is through, Xavier takes them both to bed like a man with something to prove.

But something isn’t right. There’s been a political...something-or-other that had affected the region for the past few years. (”Xavier was married, wasn’t he?” Erik mutters as his silver sword slices clean through the neck a snarling necrophage. Logan just grunts in response because politics gives him a headache at the best of times, and he especially doesn’t want to think about it when there’s an alghoul trying to rip his throat out and feast on his innards.) No matter how many monsters they kill, more claw their way out of the earth, out of the rotted woods, out of the mires.

The land itself is cursed, and Charles is the key to it all. Charles - and his mysterious former spouse, the one who had held control of Westchester previously: En Sabah Nur.

........and while we’re also on the topic of witcher i also have a dirtybadwrong idea i’d probably never write out, but basically a/b/o, charles is a beta and a sorcerer who was captured by the witch hunter shaw - who secretly dabbles in magic himself, and charles is more use to him alive and dead

but his followers still expect him to make an example out of charles, so shaw puts him up for public use, and they all take turns fucking the impurity out of charles. only, halfway through, shaw can smell an omega in heat, and the scent is coming from charles.....

#asks

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thestuckylibrary · 5 years

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Hiya, thanks for all the hard work! Just wanted to know if there are any biker/motorcycle club fics? Like kind of Sons of Anarchy-ish, but also kinda like those cheesy MC erotica novels you get? Preferably not skinny!Steve if at all possible? Thanks in advance!

Have a look through our Biker Bucky and Biker Steve tags!

I also found a Sons of Anarchy AU, but I don’t really know what you mean by MC erotica novels, so feel free to write back if this isn’t what you meant:

The Sunlight On My Face* by IWillBeTheEndofYou (WIP |15,159 | E) *graphic violence

Inspired by/homage to Sons of Anarchy. I cannot vouch for the accuracy re: real biker gangs.

Bucky Barnes is a doctor on the run from a bad relationship and the drama of the ER. He accidentally gets pulled into the Avengers, a biker gang with some rather violent tendencies. Came for the life saving, stayed for the eye candy.

Can Bucky stand this life? Does Steve want him to?

#anonymous #mod blue #char:biker!steve #char:biker!bucky #tvaus

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proheromidoriyashouto · 6 years

Text

My Good Neighbor, an Inko x Rei Neo-Noir AU

After her divorce and once she’s solely an out-patient, Rei becomes a Private Investigator Jessica Jones-style out of her new apartment in Musutafu. Her reason for this is in part to reclaim her independence, but also to help save others as she wished she could have saved her children. A Shiketsu graduate, she was only a sidekick for a brief time before she was married off to Endeavor and begins the lengthy process to re-acquire a hero license to then function as an underground hero. She finds that she needs assistance and finds it in none other than her neighbor, Midoriya Inko, who is a crime lab technician.

Inko introduced herself once Rei moved in next door but didn’t reveal her occupation until she wound up outside Rei’s office/living room when a disgruntled client started a fight in the apartment. Inko initially hesitates before going out and witnesses a man crash through the glass window of the door with a yell. The man recovers quickly and moves threateningly toward her but Inko whips out a beanbag shotgun she was hiding behind her skirt and tells him to back down. Rei emerges, a katana in hand, and the situation is diffused by the man’s departure via police car.

Rei didn’t have her license to use her quirk in the beginnings, and makes use of a “decorative” katana that came with her dowry so long ago. Enji had it hung up on a wall in a locked, clear case that only he had the key to, preserving family heirlooms he’d told her parents the last time she saw them, is a duty the Todoroki take with utmost responsibility. A lie to ensure her family’s legacy remained apart from their children-- another familial obligation to burden her heroic spirit with. Free of him, she’s taken it up again sans quirk and it is her main means of protection. Shouto is fascinated and awed by the sight of her wielding the blade so elegantly even all these years out of practice, and they bond over developing her ancestral style into something new, better suited to the modern era, and just theirs.

Rei’s feelings toward her relatives are mixed as they essentially sold her off, but her lessons in kenjutsu were some of the fondest memories of her adolescence and were what she had built her short-lived heroic persona around. Older and out-of-practice, she treats physical violence as a last resort, all the while honing her skills in the event of a throw-down. She leans into vintage-styled dress reminiscent of the classic trench-coat-and-fedora detectives of old-- and not so old, in Naomasa’s case-- but casual enough in appearance that she isn’t written off as a PI at a glance. Once she gets her hero license, a company creates several armored variants of her outfits-- proper costumes for undercover/underground hero work.

She investigates villains sure, but also heroes who are accused or suspected of corruption. Her ex-husband, regrettably, is still the Number One in the wake of All Might’s retirement and it’s a constant source of consternation and turmoil. Rei cannot put her own abuser away as it would threaten the tenuous balance between law and anarchy in their shaken society, and as much as she wants justice for her children if not herself, she knows that now is not the time. Shouto reassures her that once his class has graduated, they’ll oust Endeavor and carry the system on their shoulders better than their predecessors. She’s waited over 20 years-- she can persevere a while longer.

Rei realizes she needs to get forensic assistance from a new lab after spotting members of the Endeavor Agency at the usual place and only just escapes unnoticed. Rather than risk her ex-husbands’ possible spies she’ll have to take matters into her own hands so to speak. She registers her apartment as the headquarters for her own underground agency so she can set up a connected crime lab, but she struggles with what to call it. She’s foregone a proper hero name for much the same reason as her old name isn’t indicative of who or what she is anymore or what her goals are now. Up until now she’s been introducing herself as Rei-san, Private Investigator, hiding her re-earned hero status by omission, but with an agency she’ll need a name.

Shouto often comes by to discuss his life and the current bit of youth culture he’s adapting to, which it so happens to be video games that week. He’s intrigued by interactive visual stories he can alter on a whim and loves to delve into rich background lore because of the mysteries he can spend hours solving. Her family wasn’t so traditional that she never had the opportunity to partake herself, but its an area of interest long forgotten to her at present. Nonetheless, she likes listening to Shouto as he describes the plots and make decisions he instantly regrets only to yelp and hopelessly try to salvage the situation due to misinterpreted dialogue options, spends hours on menial low-reward tasks for the accomplishment alone, takes out aggression on enemies with silly exaggerated weapons and giggle at the absurd physics while doing so-- as he acts like a typical teenage boy.

He especially enjoys playing heroic characters, doing good because it’s what you should do and not because you are forced into the profession. She hopes she can be a hero idol for him where she failed as a mother, even if she’s making up for it now. They’re both surprised upon finding out that there is a hero who looks like her in the game! Shouto spent quite a while designing his character to look like him- as always- with long white hair, and in the costume provided looks astonishingly like Rei in her Media Appearance outfit: The Silver Shroud, operating out of the Memory Den. When she makes a quick change into her own outfit and stands beside the television, her adorable son can’t keep his head still as he notes all the similarities with stars in his eyes, and the decision is made for her. She’s the Silver Shroud and this is their Memory Den.

The decal on the glass of her door is changed from “Rei’s Investigations” to “The Memory Den” and she’s on her way. It’s soon after this that a man who was displeased to find that his lover was not cheating so he could force them to break up with him over the resulting confrontation barges in and threatens her for “ruining everything.” She tries to talk him down, but he is incensed, and they struggle briefly before she sends him flying out the glass with a measured application of her quirk and a kick to the chest. She’s surprised by the arrival of her next-door neighbor- a kind, small woman whose name is familiar though she can’t quite place it- leveling a shotgun at the man like she knows what she’s doing. The former client is forced to wait as Rei calls for a patrol car to take him away, leaving the two women alone.

Inko was recognized by the officers which initially led Rei to believe she was a cop herself before she properly introduced herself as a crime lab technician.

***

“Oh, I’m sorry for interfering with your work. If I’d known you were a hero I wouldn’t have gotten in your way! I just heard what sounded like a fight and a man’s voice and I know you live alone and I’m not an officer or a hero, but I have weapons’ training, so I thought—"

“No, no. It’s perfectly understandable. Rei smiled assuredly. Most people wouldn’t have tried to help, whatever the case, so that you did is admirable. You shouldn’t apologize for it regardless of my position.”

Flustered, Inko replied. “O-oh, well, I am sorry, I know most heroes would feel disrupted… but, um, at least let me say I’m glad you’re alright, then.”

“Likewise.” Rei gestured toward the shotgun, concern tilting her mouth into a frown. “Are you used to handling yourself? I had thought this area was safe.”

“Yes, I am. It’s, ah, not live munition- it’s loaded with beanbag rounds. I’ve only fired it once, though!” Inko sighed. “Honestly? It was safer when I first moved in, but that isn’t why I have Clem, here.”

“Clem?”

Inko flushed and jostled the shotgun pointedly. “Clementine. See, erm, there were… killings a few years ago. The victims were crime scene lab techs. My colleagues.”

Rei’s eyes widened.

“The villain thought it would damage public opinion of the police more than targeting the officers themselves, especially since most murders occurred within precinct walls during the day shift. We were protected, but the attacks stopped before a suspect could be apprehended.” Inko’s shoulder’s tensed. “I… I live alone, lived alone with only my young son, my quirk is nothing flashy and without knowing for sure…” Her eyes took on a hard edge as she met Rei’s slate stare. “Given the circumstances a judge gave me approval for a weapon for strictly defensive purposes, and hero patrols were increased for a while. Since All Might’s retirement, though, I… I- I can’t take any chances. I’ve seen less of the heroes which makes sense with the rise in crime, not to mention my shift increases. I’ve been getting home when it’s dark out in a neighborhood with fewer hero patrols in a poorer part of the prefecture. I know the statistics, and after the talking-to I gave my son about safety- I’m taking her everywhere with me.”

“I… I understand.” Rei replied. “I can wait for you if you like and escort you to your door. I tend to work at night anyway.”

“I wouldn’t want to be a bother! Its like I said, I can handle myself just fine.”

“You’re concerned for your safety and I am a hero.” Rei couldn’t let her go on like this after hearing her tale. “Please, I insist. …think of it as me returning the favor for your help today.”

“Well… alright. That’s fair. A relief knowing you’re right next door and everything.”

“Say…” Rei said pensively. “Would you happen to know if your facilities are partnered with the Endeavor Agency?”

Inko blinked once, twice. “I don’t believe we are. His office has their own lab and when they do cooperate with third-party investigators or the police its usually labs in Tokyo proper, nothing as far from the agency as Musutafu.”

Rei clapped her hands together before her, pleased. “Would you mind speaking more with me inside? I’m in need of a consultation- ah, if it isn’t an imposition, of course.”

“Sure.” Inko grinned. “We should probably get to know each other if we’re going to be seeing more of one another, too.”

“Can I offer you a coffee?” Rei said, stepping around the shattered glass to her apartment. “I, um, don’t have any tea.”

“I’m fine with anything, but a coffee would help my nerves right now.” Inko sighed shakily. She turned toward a source of noise in the living room. “Oh, is that Saving Face? I do enjoy a good love story.”

Rei carefully shut her door behind them and hurried to prepare her guest a drink with smile. The old film was a favorite from her time in the hospital. “As do I.”

***

Rei relies heavily on espionage, leveraging her good looks to coerce criminals into talking to her under the guise of flirting or gossiping with the out-of-place-bombshell at the dive bar. She wears her armored clothing, heels that contain data drives, and hides the katana inside her coats. She curls her hair and wears a hat to hide comms devices, and “smokes” from a cigarette holder that’s really a recording device. The cigarette is fake and shrinks to sell the image, as she would rather not associate with fire. When there’s a change in plans, she blows on it and the cigarette bursts like a smoke bomb for a quick getaway.

She meets with Naomasa in cafes while it’s raining, passes information disguised as a reporter during media blitzes, plants tracking devices on villains while playing the frazzled-and-late-for-carpool stay-at-home mom rushing by, etc. She tries not to rely too heavily on her quirk because it’s a distinct give away but isn’t afraid to overwhelm her opponents if pressed.

At home, most of the apartment has been converted into work space. Only the guest room where the children sleep when they visit is free of materials. Inko stops by every morning and afternoon to be briefed and transport evidence to or from her lab for processing. The two are fast friends, and Rei cherishes the closeness they’ve cultivated in the weeks since their encounter on her door step and they’re only growing closer-- which she's got butterflies about. The glass window is continuously destroyed by people sent flying through it to the point that they keep several replacements on hand.

Rei and Inko go out on day while their sons are waiting at the Memory Den and enter to find a quiet apartment. They find them in the guest room. Shouto is wearing Rei’s largest coat, her hat, and her blue ugg boots she got specifically for relief after long days in heels, standing over Izuku who is prone on the floor with ketchup over his body in several places, tongue out, clearly playing dead. The boys recreated one of her evidence boards and while Shouto reviews the clues out loud, Izuku intermittently offers his thoughts before ‘dying’ once more in dramatic fashion. Rei whips out her camera just in time to catch her son’s flustered waffling when Izuku calls him Shoushou- he has a nickname! - and Izuku hiding his face in his arms at being called ‘zukun’ in return. They watch for a few minutes and almost reveal themselves when Shouto chasing Izuku- now the criminal- around the room makes them laugh.

They finally do when Shouto proclaims, “Mama is the best hero this town has ever seen! She won’t let you hurt anyone else, villain.”

Rei pushes the door open, tears in her eyes. “You really think so?”

She hugs him so close and they have a good long cry about what could have been.

Rei’s most prominent case becomes the search for the serial killer burning their victims alive. It’s not a high-profile case, minimal media coverage to prevent inciting a panic, and the other investigators are a few underground heroes in coordination with the police. It comes to a head when a lead mentions a homeless man going simply by ‘Touya’ arriving in Musutafu around the time of Stain’s prominence and the continuation of the League of Villains’ recruitment schemes.

The investigation takes a darker note when they discover that quirkless people are disappearing in areas of suspected League of Villains activity likely to serve as the ‘base’ of new Noumu experiments.

Rei presses everyone for any information about a man named ‘Touya’ and when asked why she reveals, “My oldest son, it’s his name. He left home a long time ago and hasn’t spoken to me since. He fits the profile.”

“..the killer’s profile?” Naomasa nearly dropped his pen in shock.

“No.” Rei denied. “He couldn’t have burned those people. Not my boy.”

“Silver Shroud… Rei-san… if he has a fire quirk and matches the description—”

“That’s what I mean. It couldn’t have been him. Touya was born quirkless. He fits the profile for the Noumu experiments. That’s why I have to find him.”

Rei’s journey of self-actualization is embroiled in the search for her missing son, capturing villains, hunting a serial killer, confronting and abiding by the society which allowed her spirit to be broken, learning to forgive herself, and discover what it is to find love in the least expected places, and allow herself to be loved.

***

(Don’t make a new Inko x Rei AU when you haven’t published the first one. Don’t do it, bitch-

We’re here, I guess. I wrote this listening to My Love by Kovacs. This is super fun and occurred to me while playing Fallout 4 which is why she’s the Silver Shroud. Shouto having a grand old time being a hero in the wasteland in a Minuteman/Railroad run brings me joy to think about. It’s not like I also planned a Fallout AU or anyth-

Inksignia, Beyond Alteo is about half-done. I keep pushing it back to work on other things, but it’s coming along and will be published a thousand years before this one because I’m terrible.

Inko’s deal here is a subplot I haven’t fully thought through, I just really like tiny ladies with big guns and needed a suitable explanation. She recovers shells and beanbags with her quirk don’t tell no body. She doesn’t back up Rei on scene because Inko is not a hero and as someone who works with law enforcement, knows better than to interfere most of the time. Rei comes over to sleep at the Midoriya apartment because her own bed is usually a mess of paperwork and lordknowswhat that’ll take too long to organize. Rei shares Inko’s bed. snuggles

I spent an embarrassing amount of time looking into some of Rei’s outfits. She has several pairs of casual heels for spying under the guise of public outings and practical boots when she knows it’ll be a fight, or her patrols require them. She wears the kind of wool winter coats that are trench-coat-ish but ultimately fashionable, except in her Media Appearance outfit which is basically the Silver Shroud costume. Two hundred years later shit is up for free-use or whatever it doesn’t matter. The hat she favors is a black Bellady hat with a silver bow. I can provide links to anyone who wants a to see the stuff I picked. Keeping them out of the post so it doesn’t get flagged for links or whatever. Honestly, this should just be called the Aesthetic AU.

Quirkless Touya? From moi??? whatever do i mean hohohohohon

Slight todomido/izushou, mostly background. Inko x Rei endgame. Toshinori? Maybe??? Seriously can we create ship names for them. Inkrei. Reinko. Toshinkrei??? )

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angelaiswriting · 6 years

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The Truth | Vladimir Ranskahov x reader

[couldn’t find anything i liked, so here i am again with my banners, yay! haha]

✎ Pairing: Vladimir Ranskahov x reader

✎ Requested by @mmpmaple : Could you do a fluffy thing with Vladimir? Sort of an AU where he made it out with daredevil and recovers at the readers home. They sometimes butt heads because lets face it he is stubborn! It is not the Russian way to listen to some 'little girl' that is friends with the man in the black mask.

✎ Requested by Anonymous: Could you please do something with vladimir, I was so upset that he sacrificed himself just when I started to love him even more. please, please,please, write an au where he lives and falls in love with the reader who looks after him since claire definitely won't stitch him back up and matt can't reveal where he lives. <3

✎ A/N: fluff can be found only if you squint real hard, I fear haha I’m really sorry, I did my best. I’ve also just re-read your requests and I feel like I unintentionally detatched myself a little from them, but also that there’s more that could be added to this story, so I could maybe try a part two? Who knows (you do! Let me know). I apologize for the stupid title, but my mind was completely blank haha

✎ A/N 2: also, my dudes. My dudes. I’ve never read the comics (my brain can’t read them), so all I know is what I see on the show. But. But. This is no AU until I see his damn dead body. I’ve seen too many shows and movies to believe a death just because we hear rifles shooting. <3

✎ Warnings: probably the stupidest thing you’ve ever read. Mentions of nudity and masturbation (it’s Vlad after all haha)

Word-count: 3,498

Vladimir Borisovich Ranskahov is anything but sweet. He is strong angles and large shoulders and calloused hands and scarred face. His fingers are made to hold a gun, his body has seen too much, his mind has endured too much. But as he kisses her, all Y/N can think about are his soft lips—chapped but still tender—against hers and his tongue brushing against hers as if she was the most fragile thing.

None of them know how they got to this point. They head-butt like the champions of the discipline, they argue and bicker like kids, and when they fight, they spit venom. But with his hand behind her neck, his arm around her waist, pulling her closer, time stops and all they can do is stare into each other’s eyes.

But then she moves, not so much accidentally elbowing his ribs, and he pulls away with a groan. And before they know it, they’re bickering again. She says he should be resting, he argues he’s not a pussy, she retorts he’d be dead without her so he’d better do as she says, and he ends up stomping away towards her bedroom and slams the door closed.

Sometimes she doesn’t know what to do to get out of that situation, other times she doesn’t want to get out of that situation. Sometimes she’d kill him herself, other times she’d beg him to smash her head into the wall so that she doesn’t have to stand him a minute longer. All in all, though, she enjoys his brooding company. It gives her something else to focus on to distract herself from the fact that she’s lying to her friend, hiding a supposedly dead criminal like that.

This time, though, is one of those times where she wonders why in the fucking hell she’s befriended a Ranskahov and how she’s managed to convince herself to stitch him up. She’s come home from work less than half an hour ago and she already feels like screaming and tearing the whole apartment down, smashing the TV screen with her fist just to see it bleed, just to focus on something else that’s not her guest. And suddenly, Vladimir’s sweetness has flown out of the window and it’s like it never existed.

It’s already as hard as it is, working with her stupid colleagues and trying to have a decent relationship with her friends. She really doesn’t need that stupid Russian dick throwing a tantrum because the vodka she brought home is not the one he wanted.

As if he gives a fuck about what she wants.

For starters, she wants to sleep in her bed—she’s tired of that old couch breaking her back in half. Then, she’d like to wake up to a smoking cup of coffee waiting for her on the kitchen island next to a plate of scrambled eggs and grilled tomatoes.

But then her altruistic side comes out like the ultimate bitch it is and she’s ready to kick her own ass. Vladimir has lost everything, she tells herself. He’s lost his brother, his business, his friends. He’s injured and still recovering and his body is littered in bruises. And he’s a good person when he wakes up on the right side of the bed—or literally when God, Jesus Christ and the whole lot of saints decide to give her a day off, just to recharge a little before another nightmarish day spent babysitting a moron starts.

And so she never says a word, not even now as she slams the oven shut as she takes out the pizzas she bought coming home. She tries not to think about what comes next because she knows he’s going to complain about her choice of dinner. She just knows it, it’s something she feels from deep inside, something she cannot shake off her shoulders.

When she yells Vladimir’s name, adding a curse as she does so, she’s as ready to start the night as she would be if she were in front of death. It takes him a while to get out of her room and reach her in the living room to sit in front of the TV, where she’s put the plates and glasses on the little coffee table. She always jokes about how he always jacks off and she mock-complains about how she doesn’t want to find his jizz on her bedsheets when she has to do the laundry (she’d never admit, though, that she’d like it somewhere else). And he always grunts in response, half in English and half in Russian and he grabs his dick from above his pants just to make fun of her. Just as he does now.

“Behave,” she simply says, side-eyeing him and scoffing when she sees he’s only wearing his lounge pants, his bandages on display, and she crosses her legs and takes a slice of her pizza.

It’s not the best. She prefers it when pizza isn’t out of a freezer in a convenience store, but she really doesn’t want to buy pizza for him. She hopes he figures out what she’s trying to tell him, but he never does and he probably never will. Probably—just probably, though—she doesn’t want him to catch up and she’s happy with how things are. After all, it’s nice to come back home to someone, to have someone to spend the evening before they both go to bed.

She’s not saying it out loud, though. Not now and not ever, let alone to him. And even if he clearly likes her and lets it on in every way he can, she’s not ready to admit that she likes him back. He’s a Ranskahov, after all, and that means he’s the bad guy and she promised her mom she wouldn’t end up with the bad guy as she did before being dumped with a kid in her womb. And so she keeps her mouth shut and her hands to herself and she stares at the TV like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

And the night is calm and they’re both quiet.

Inside her head, she still hears King and that ‘when the night has come, and the land is dark, and the moon is the only light we’ll see’ of his and she tries her best not to giggle—somehow, Vlad loves this song and he has it on loop when he’s in the shower. And when she walks past the door to do her things, she can even hear him hum it and she snickers because she’s never thought of him as the type that would like ‘Stand By Me’.

“What are you laughing at?” he growls, brooding as he bites his pizza.

She casually points at the screen and shrugs. “It’s fun,” she shrugs again, “this show.”

“He’s eating her out. That’s not fun,” he points out. He’s no fan of Sons of Anarchy, but she doesn’t care—she’s the one paying for Netflix, so he’ll have to behave if he doesn’t want to see some cheesy shit.

“Didn’t know sex was a chore,” she says and chugs a gulp of water. “But thanks for enlightening me, buddy. I’ll bring you in next time I fuck someone, you’ll be able to stop me from chuckling.”

She clearly sees him clench his jaw and they both resolve that silence is better than bickering again.

“How’s pizza?” she asks after a while. She doesn’t like his silences because she never knows what he’s thinking about and she doesn’t like that idea.

“It’s shit. You could’ve stopped by some pizza joint.”

She doesn’t answer: she just shrugs her shoulders and keeps silent. Vladimir is right, but the thing she bought is still acceptable and it’s cheaper than the one he wants. She doesn’t swim in money and his vodka and cigarettes are the most expensive things she’s bought after that sexy set of lingerie she bought online when she was drunk.

But then, after the third episode, someone knocks at the door and they both turn to stare at each other, frozen on the spot. Vlad grabs his gun and he’s ready to unlock whatever security thing he has to unlock to make fire—she really doesn’t know and she doesn’t even want to know—and she’s quick to grab his arm, shaking her head no.

They don’t say a word, they hardly even breathe because it could be anyone—from a drunkard to the old lady from down the corridor to the police. To even Fisk’s men, even if Y/N barely knows who Fisk is: she’s always watching Netflix and doesn’t read newspapers.

“Y/N, it’s me.”

It’s Matt’s voice and they both freeze: her, because she really doesn’t want her friend to find her with a not-so-dead criminal on her couch, and him, because that’s clearly the masked guy’s voice and he fears he’s come for him.

“Coming!” she calls, sprinting to her feet and dragging Vlad with her before pushing him towards the bedroom. “Let me get dressed, I’m not presentable!” She shoves her guest into the room and pushes him into the en-suite bathroom, the one she rarely uses these days. “Shit,” she mutters under her breath. “Don’t make a sound or I’m cutting your dick off and it’s not gonna be like in The Package, I’m not giving it to the docs!” she hisses, taking the gun and hiding it under the sink.

When she runs back and opens the door, though, she’s not thinking about Vladimir anymore. Matt is all beaten up and his lip is split. She knows about his ‘night shift’, of course, she’s a nosy bitch after all, just as she knows about what happened between him and the half-naked Russian in her bathroom.

“What happened?” she asks, closing her door. She’s not even concerned, not anymore at least. She’s seen him bruised and hurt so many times she’s lost count—and after seeing Vladimir half-dead, nothing surprises her anymore.

He shrugs, but she doesn’t see it: she’s already pouring water on a hand towel to clean up his dirty face. “Didn’t know you had guests,” he says—and he’s clearly lying, but she doesn’t know and she doesn’t need to know.

At first, she lies, but then she sees Vlad’s half-eaten pizza and his glass of coke and she’s still wearing just her panties and huge sweatshirt and she feels cornered.

“You seeing someone?” he asks as she dabs his split lip. He’s leaning against the back of the couch and he inhales sharply when she dabs a little too hard.

She feels like lying again, but then she looks at him, all beaten up and dressed like a Hell’s Kitchen’s version of Deadpool and she doesn’t find it in herself. “Kinda,” she says, avoiding his gaze. She knows he’s blind just as she knows she isn’t—it’s still weird for her and she still can’t comprehend it, but it still creeps her out.

“I’m sorry if I interrupted anything,” he goes on.

She shrugs. “Wait here, I’m getting the first aid kit.” And to do so, she has to get into the dreaded bathroom and she really doesn’t want to get caught.

“Why don’t you introduce us?” he presses. He sounds a little pissed, but at the moment she really doesn’t care, she has bigger problems to think about and she thought they had both overcome their childhood crushes on each other.

“He’s naked,” she blurts out as she lets the towel fall on the couch, not knowing what else to say. “This really is… it’s really not the right time,” she stutters, turning around and heading towards her room at a sloth’s pace.

“Why not? Shouldn’t your best friend meet this lucky guy?”

She has barely the time to notice he’s following her that Vladimir opens the door to her bedroom and she lets out a squeal. And when she turns around, she bumps into Matt and she really wants to be swallowed up into the floor.

“Here’s your kit,” he growls and it’s Matt who grabs the box and Y/N can see his mouth slightly open in surprise when he recognizes the voice.

There’s silence for a long while and all she can hear is her heart beating like crazy inside her chest. She’s pretty sure those two men can hear it, too. She feels like dying and for a moment she thinks that it wouldn’t be that bad. Because how the hell is she going to explain that she has a naked criminal in her house?

Matt calls her name and his voice is strangely calm, its tone is as hard as stone. He looks at her—or probably right through her, she is too scared to even try and rationalize it. “You are fucking Vladimir Ranskahov.” They all know it should be a question, but it comes out as an affirmation and it makes the whole situation even worse. Because as much as she’d like to jump his bones, she’d also love to kick Vladimir’s ass.

“It’s not as it seems,” and her words come out as a question and it all feels wrong.

Matt’s hands are gripping the plastic box of the first aid kit so hard she fears he’s going to turn into the Hulk and his jaw is set so tight that she fears his teeth might fall off at any given second. “Why is he standing there naked then?” he asks and, again, she really doesn’t want to know how he knows Vladimir’s as naked as his mom’s made him. “Most importantly, why is he alive?”

“Can we please all calm down?” she squeals, putting her hands up in the air as if they’re arresting her.

In all honesty, they’re all calm—or at least they seem so—and she’s the only one on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Neither Matt nor Vladimir say a word, even if she clearly hears the latter cross his arms in front of his chest.

“Go put something on your junk,” she begs, but the stupid Russian doesn’t move.

“I’m still waiting for an explanation,” Matt urges her, grabbing her elbow and squeezing it tight.

It takes her a good two hours to calm Matt down from his blind rage. She barely manages to fix his face without hurting him more and more than once she wishes she didn’t work as a vet so that she could mess up with the stitches.

During that time, Vladimir sits brooding on the couch, still as naked as a worm, and glares at her while she mouths at him to leave the room.

But when Matt eventually leaves, after promising on Foggy’s life to not say a word and to not do anything, Y/N turns towards her guest and all she sees is red as he sits there, arms slouched behind the back of the couch, the guy’s prick on full display as if he had something to prove.

It takes her a while before she’s able to move again and when she does, a shiver creeps down Vladimir’s spine. He has never seen her this scary and for a split second, he regrets playing that trick on her and on her masked friend. But then again, he knows how to deal with women and how to put people in their place.

“You are a son of a bitch,” she seethes through her gritted teeth as she slams a pillow on his penis. She’s dying to peek, but she’s also dying to bite it off, so she resolves for neither of those options.

“You could have told me you are friends with stupid Daredevil,” he growls as he grabs her wrists.

That night she doesn’t sleep.

At first, she tosses and turns on the couch, groaning under her breath at her lack of sleep. Tomorrow is her day off, but she’d still like to sleep. And she doesn’t want to think about Matt and how furious he was when he found Vladimir in her apartment. And she doesn’t want to think about Vladimir, either, because that would mean accepting what she feels for him and she’s not ready to admit she likes him, not yet.

And then, when Vlad comes and drags her to bed, any chance at finding sleep flies out of the window, never to be seen again—or probably not, probably she’s just overreacting and being dramatic, but his arm against her burns like fire and her hair there are standing on their ends and she can’t focus on anything else.

“I’m sorry,” he says as he stares at the ceiling, where the lights from outside cast unreadable patterns.

She doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for, and part of her doesn’t want to know. It could mean anything from ‘sorry I got out naked’ to ‘sorry I came to look for your help in the first place’. And while she’d gladly take the former, she doesn’t want to think about the latter because even if she complains a lot, she doesn’t really mean it.

“I am, too,” she whispers back, trying not to think about the bandage covering the wound on his right calf lightly rubbing the skin of her left leg.

This time, it’s Vladimir who doesn’t know what she’s apologizing for. Always throwing tantrums at his own tantrums? Being friends with the guy who almost killed him? Making him fall for her fast and hard, making him doubt about anything and everything at once?

And before they know, she’s lying down on her side and his arm is wrapped around her shoulders. And it’s cozy, to lie there like that, pretending there’s nothing between them and that they’re just barely tolerating each other’s presence.

“I should leave,” he says after a while and she knows he’s fighting off the urge to light up a cigarette. He knows she doesn’t like it when he smokes in her room, but the truth is, she doesn’t really care. Deep down, so deep she’ll never admit it, she enjoys the disgusting smell of smoke because it reminds her of him and as long as her house stinks of tobacco and other cancerogenic substances, she knows he’s there with her.

“It’s well past two in the morning,” she yawns back and she’s so comfortable in his embrace that she feels herself drifting off to sleep.

“In the morning, I mean,” he continues, “or evening.”

She knows he means it. Somehow, she can feel it in his muscles, in the way they tense when she traces the edge of one of his bandages yet again.

The truth is, she likes his company. She likes to fight with him because he lets her get rid of the pent-up frustration she always carries inside her. And she likes it when he mutters unintelligible Russian words under his breath, or when he off-key sings under the shower—she had never thought of him as the type that sang in the bathroom, but here he was, in all his fucked-up glory. She definitely doesn’t like it when he jerks off in the toilet and he moans and grunts like there’s no tomorrow, though, but she could definitely get used to it.

“I don’t want you to leave,” she admits after minutes spent in silence and she rolls back on her back and she stares at the ceiling like him. “Matt won’t do a thing, I promise. And if he does,” she continues, “I’ll fix it.”

She’s debated a lot on whether to tell him the truth or not, but she doesn’t even know what the truth is, herself, so she says what she thinks is best.

And as they somehow end up cuddling, something either of them hasn’t done in ages, she’s scared because she knows he might be leaving for real. And even though she cannot tell whether the crush she has for him is really there, she knows he’s become like a friend and she wouldn’t stand the idea of coming back home to an empty and cold apartment just to cook something quick and spend the rest of the evening watching Netflix.

And as he stares at her while she sleeps, her eyelashes brushing lightly against his shoulder, he knows he has to leave. He has spent so much time imagining her in his life that now that he has her, he’s scared. He knows he’ll hurt her, or that someone else might do that just to get to him, and he really doesn’t want it: he cares about her too much to even risk it, even if he does his best to not let it on.

But right now, it’s good to have her there where he’s always wanted her—and where he knows she’s always wanted him. And she feels soft and warm and defenseless against him and her breath tickles his skin and he swears that’s the best feeling in the world.

>> Part Two: Jealousy (NSFW) >>

I’m not in pain anymore, but I still find this fun haha am I weird? Don’t answer, I already know I am. On another note, this was really fun to write!

Feedback is always welcome ❤️

TAGS (to be added/removed, shoot me an ask)

Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892 @toomanyfandoms96 @mblaqgi

Bratva: @sweetvengeancee @theranskahovs ( @brobachev ?)

#vladimir ranskahov imagine #vladimir ranskahov x reader #angelaiswriting #vladimir ranskahov #vladimir ranskahov fanfic

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thornstocutyouwith · 4 years

Photo

Name: Aries S.(Salem) Sebastian Hailstrum

Meaning of Name: Aries: The Ram, Salem: Peaceful, complete, Sebastian: venerable, Hailstrum: Shelter, Hailstorm, Hellstorm

Nickname(s): A.S.S, Hailstrum,

Age: 16-40

Birthday: April 16, 1990-

Species/Nationality: Zodiac/Human, American/Scandinavian/French/Irish

Accent: Yes

Language spoken: English, Korean

Powers:

Aries: Aries allows strength-based abilities, such as Horn Protrusion, Enhanced Strength, Fire Manipulation, Strength Manipulation, and/or Caprine Physiology.

Horse: Horse, Fire

Ivy/Butterfly: Butterfly Physiology, Moon

Eagle/Men: Raptor Physiology and Quetzalcoatl Physiology, Water

Zodiac Empowerment

Psammokinetic Blade Construction

Key Manipulation

Purple Lightning Manipulation

Enhanced Repositioning

Hiddenness Manipulation

Musical Intuition

Mental Pressure

Tantric Metabolization

AU Aries Power: Stellar Physiology

Weaknesses/Illness/Allergies: Has quite a few health problems the more severe ones being from when the Cancer Zodiac ran him over with their car and nearly killed him when they were in high school together.

Pet: No

Occupation: Student/Psychologist

Faceclaim: Charlie Hunnam/Nick Roux

Description: His hair is naturally blond, but sometimes he will dye it grey or black. In his teenage years he would often spike his hair and delve into more colors to dye his hair. As a matured adult he will sometimes style it back or messily to one side or the other or leave it wherever it may fall. When he was a teenager he kept it longer than he does as an adult. Aries has varies scares along his body and face from being hit by a car as a teenager. His skin color is a warm, somewhat tanned color. As a teenager he would often paint his nails, and sometimes still does as and adult if he’s bored enough. He has four tattoos one one his chest, one on his back, one on his right arm, and the last on his left

Outfit/Accessories/Jewelry: Long Sleeve Shirt, Jeans, Boots, Jacket, Left Middle Finger, Left Ring Finger, Right Index Finger, Right Middle Finger, Right Ring Finger, Nose Ring

Height: 5′9″ - 6′1″

Weight: 112 - 145

Body Build: Toned, Athletic

Backstory/Background:

Past

Aries was born into a wealthy as well as well known family. His parents were quiet famous in their own right. Though his father was exceptionally so. He had been the heir to a rather large family fortune and business it would seem. As Aries himself was also to inherit a piece of that fame and money as well. Aries was the last of four children between both his parents, his mother having two sons prior to becoming married to his father. Though he had a full blooded sister a few years older than him as well.

From the beginning Aries had a silver spoon in his mouth, it would seem. He was spoiled beyond belief, mostly by his adoring mother. Aries had idolized his oldest brother and got along very well with his second oldest brother. Which perhaps at times emboldened him too much for his sister, who he did not get along with well at all. The two were both spoiled more so than their older siblings, being the babies of the family. His father had seemed to take interest in his sister more so than Aries however. Which had birthed a wider gape between the two as Aries would literally stop at nothing to have his fathers affection.

However when he was still very young his mother had been murdered right in front of him. Which had traumatized him severely at the time. So much so that he had lost most of his memories of the entire week leading up to the event of the stabbing. Mainly because he had also been injured in the attack, not that his father had let that be known. Which caused him years of distress. Which was complicated more by his father seeming to take his mothers death out on the young boy, neglecting and at times abusing Aries in fits of anger. Especially as Aries grew to become more insolent.

Soon enough Aries’ father had remarried, his elder siblings had moved away. This had left Aries alone to his own devices far too often. Now a teenager with newer, younger siblings from his fathers second marriage he was viewed as a burden and an annoyance. One his father didn’t want around. During this time his father fell into his inheritance as well. Becoming even more rich and well known from it. As well his new mother had thought he would become a threat to the children and pushed him out of the family home. Begrudgingly his father sent the young teenager to live alone in a small home in the nearby town. While the rest of his family were living a luxurious life. In nearly a different state entirely from him.

Aries saw this as a win however, getting more into drugs and falling into his petulant behavior. Becoming quite a popular classmate among his new school and making plenty of friends. Despite many of them thinking he had a very aggressive aura about him. As he could show he was easy to become hostile, especially when he did not get what he wanted. Aries rarely sees his family during his final years of school. Despite his delinquent tendencies he still manages to pass with high grades.

Present

However things did hit a speed bump in on of his last couple months of high school. A girl he had trouble getting along with was pulling out of her parking spot when one of his friends jokingly shoved him behind her car, resulting in his being hit by it and knocked over. The girl had backed up onto his torso, crushing some of it before pushing the gas as she realized she hit someone, further injuring him more severely in her panic. Aries would spend the rest of his school year in the hospital. Though still managed to complete his subjects in a timely manner in order to graduate.

This incident was however one more that his father used to blame him for being ‘unlucky’ and borderline ‘unwanted’. After a few emotionally abusive words were flung Aries was told that it would be the last time his father was going to pay him a visit and that he would continued to get some money in the bank, as well as pay for expenses to get him through college and a small allowance he told his son that he never wanted to see him again. Aries could only agree to the new terms, as he had never wanted to see them again either.

Aries would go on to college, still acting immaturely and getting into fights or rebelling against whatever thing struck him as annoying at any given time, in his free time. He was however still studious in his school work and would even spend many evenings studying over going out with friends to wreck havoc on the town, something he enjoyed doing almost as much as learning, almost. Aries however knew that he needed to complete his courses without getting tossed in prison or letting himself be distracted entertainment.

In time Aries had found he liked getting into fights, so he started doing that. Clearly taking advantage of everyone’s fascination with the movie Fight Club, to some extent. A free ass beating for anyone who crossed him was right up his alley though, so he would take. Enjoying the sexual tension between him and some opponents at time. Especially those who would re-challenge him to matches. Over the next couple of years there were two different sides of Aries, one that stayed up late at night on a Saturday studying when needed. The other out causing anarchy in the streets and fighting people in unsanctioned fights. It was a quick way to make a couple more hundred dollars.

After graduating with a doctorate in psychology he went on with living his life, now independent of his father or his family’s wealth. Over the next couple of years he becomes popular enough to gain some fame from his chosen career. Where he now lives comfortably, but still enjoys fight clubs and other anarchistic activities as well,... Wouldn’t it be weird if you had to fight your psychologist...

Future

Aries in time meets a S/O older than him and has three children, two sons and a daughter.

(Work In Progress)

Personality:

Incisive, Fiery, Aggressive, Sarcastic, Relaxed, Intelligent, Dramatic, Energetic, Casual, Physical, Reserved, Inconsiderate, Disconcerting, Quirky, Neurotic, Anxious, Mannerless, Insensitive, Courageous, Determined, Confident, Enthusiastic, Optimistic, Honest, Passionate, Impatient, Moody, Short-tempered, Impulsive, Assertive, Independent, Competitive, Selfish,

Quirks/Savvies/Other: Dyes his hair, Wears glasses sometimes, Good with mechanics, 117 IQ, Bisexual,

Likes: Theater, Reading, Running, Golf, Watching YouTube videos, watching sport, Rubix cubes, Meat, Milk Chocolate, Biscuits, Football, Hockey, Photography, Comfortable clothes, Taking on leadership roles, Physical challenges, Individual sports, Cartoons, Elves, Goldfish, Coffee Mugs, Heroes, Magic wands, Saxophones, Romance novels, Games, Conspiracy theories,

Dislikes: Inactivity, delays, work that does not use one's talents, Fungi, Renaissance history, Neckties, Glassware, Gardening, Rabbits, Movies about animals, Cute woodland creatures, Crystals, Country music,

Fears: That people don’t really like him but are just putting up with him, Going blind

Personality Tests: ISTP, 8w7, The Challenger, The Enthusiast, Fire Element, Gryffindor, Wampus, Neutral Evil, Wolf Patronus,

Other: Aries, Aries-Taurus Cusp

Parent(s):

-> Father:

-> Mother:

Sibling(s): 2 older half brothers on his mothers side, 1 older sister, a couple younger half siblings from his father

Children: 2 sons and 1 daughter

Starters

Chat’s

Para’s

Face

Stuff

Information

Asks

All

Alternate Universes

Horror AU

Greek God AU(Pheme/Philotes/Deimos/Helios)

Divergent AU

Hunger Games AU

Storm Coast AU

Harry Potter AU + 1

Pokemon AU

Planet AU

Mermaid AU

Plant AU

Neverland AU

Marvel AU

Star Wars AU

Royalty AU

50s Era AU

Titanic AU

Apocalypse AU

Circus AU

It Came From Another Dimension AU

Riverdale AU

Living Doll AU

Gang RP

Noah Bellamy

AUs

#AriesBio #Bios

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eznews · 4 years

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Media captionThe mutinying soldiers were cheered by crowds as they reached the capital Bamako on Tuesday

Soldiers who ousted Mali’s President Ibrahim Boubacar Keïta say they plan to set up a civilian transitional government and hold new elections.

The spokesman for the soldiers said they had acted to prevent the country falling further into chaos.

President Keïta resigned on Tuesday night saying he did not want “blood to be spilled to keep me in power”.

The UN Security Council condemned the “mutiny”, urging the immediate release of the president and his officials.

All troops should “return to their barracks without delay”, it said.

The African Union (AU) voted to suspend Mali. Its 15-member security council called for the “restoration of constitutional order” and the release of the president and other government officials.

Mali, a vast country stretching into the Sahara Desert is among the poorest countries in the world and has experienced several military takeovers. It is currently battling to contain a wave of jihadist attacks and ethnic violence.

What have the soldiers said?

The soldiers, calling themselves the National Committee for the Salvation of the People, said they did not want to stay in power.

“We are keen on the stability of the country, which will allow us to organise general elections to allow Mali to equip itself with strong institutions within the reasonable time limit,” said the group’s spokesman, Col Ismaël Wagué, the air force deputy chief of staff.

In a televised statement, flanked by soldiers, he urged Mali’s civil and political groups to help create a “political transition leading to credible general elections for the exercise of democracy through a roadmap that will lay the foundations for a new Mali”.

He also announced the closure of all air and land borders and a curfew from 21:00 to 05:00.

“Our country is sinking into chaos, anarchy and insecurity mostly due to the fault of the people who are in charge of its destiny,” he said.

What did Mr Keïta say?

Wearing a surgical mask amid the coronavirus pandemic, Mr Keïta resigned in a brief address on state television on Tuesday evening.

“If today, certain elements of our armed forces want this to end through their intervention, do I really have a choice?” he asked. “I hold no hatred towards anyone, my love of my country does not allow me to. May God save us.”

Image copyright Reuters

Image caption Ibrahim Boubacar Keïta won a second term in 2018

Mr Keïta won a second term in elections in 2018, but since June has faced huge street protests over corruption, the mismanagement of the economy and a dispute over legislative elections.

There has also been anger among troops about pay and the conflict with jihadists.

It was the war in Libya, almost a decade ago, that nudged Mali along the path to chaos.

Weapons from Libya flooded across the Sahara Desert, fuelling a separatist conflict in northern Mali, which morphed into an Islamist militant offensive, which prompted a coup in the capital Bamako.

It’s been a mess ever since, in a landlocked nation that had been a West African success story.

Today French troops, American drones, UN peacekeepers, and British helicopters are all trying – and largely failing – to strengthen security, not just in Mali, but across a vast region increasingly threatened by Islamist insurgencies and other conflicts.

This latest military coup in Bamako appears to be a reaction to those security challenges, but also to corruption, disputed elections, and political drift.

The coup itself seems unlikely to fix anything.

But it highlights a familiar truth – that while foreign intervention has its uses, the key to repairing a nation like Mali lies in its own hands, and with its own faltering democratic institutions.

What’s the mood in Bamako?

Journalist Mohamed Salaha told the BBC that banks and offices were closed on Wednesday but some daily activities were slowly resuming.

A small group gathered outside the Independence Monument to celebrate, while some opposition activists detained during the recent street protests have been freed.

However, some people are also worried about the future as it is not clear who is in charge of the country, he said.

What do we know about the mutiny?

It appears that mutinying soldiers took control of the Kati army camp, about 15km (nine miles) from Bamako, on Tuesday. They then marched on the capital, cheered by crowds who had gathered to demand Mr Keïta’s resignation.

The soldiers then stormed the presidential buildings, arresting Mr Keïta and his prime minister and taking them to Kati Camp. The president’s son, the speaker of the National Assembly, the foreign and finance ministers were also reported to have been detained.

It remains unclear how many soldiers took part in the coup, although it seems to have been led by Col Malick Diaw – deputy head of the Kati camp – and another commander, Gen Sadio Camara, BBC Afrique’s Abdoul Ba reports from Bamako.

Who is behind Mali’s coup?

What has the reaction been?

The AU’s Commissioner for Peace and Security, Smail Chergui, said military coups were “something of the past which we cannot accept anymore”.

“Whenever you have a crisis and the military people have a coup and say ‘We are responding to the will of the people’, this way of responding is not acceptable at all,” he told BBC’s Focus on Africa programme.

The Economic Community of West African States (Ecowas), a regional body, said its 15 member states had agreed to close their borders with Mali, suspend all financial flows to the country, and eject Mali from all Ecowas decision-making bodies. In recent months, Ecowas has been trying to mediate between Mr Keïta’s government and opposition groups.

The US Secretary of State Mike Pompeo tweeted his condemnation of the “mutiny”:

Mali’s former colonial ruler, France, was also quick to condemn the president’s detention, and Foreign Minister Jean Yves Le Drian urged the soldiers to return to barracks.

A member of Mali’s opposition M5 movement, which has held protests against Mr Keïta for the past few weeks, welcomed his resignation.

Prof Ramata Sissoko Cisse told the BBC World Service: “I think it’s a relief for the Malian people and for all the citizens of Mali to finally hear from the president that because of the lack of support of the Malian people he finally accepts to resign, to give back power to the people.”

M5 is led by the conservative Imam, Mahmoud Dicko, who has called for reforms after rejecting concessions from Mr Keïta.

The popular imam taking on Mali’s president

The events which led to the coup:

2018: President Ibrahim Boubacar Keita re-elected for a second term

2019: Prime Minister Soumeylou Boubeye Maiga and his government resign following an upsurge of ethnic violence

March 2020: Opposition leader Soumaila Cisse kidnapped as he campaigns ahead of parliamentary elections

30 April: Constitutional court overturns some parliamentary election results amid fraud allegations

May: Opposition coalition led by popular Iman Mahmoud Dicko calls for President’s Keïta’s resignation

June: Ecowas calls for creation of a “consensus government of national unity” following massive opposition street protests

10 July: At least 10 people killed after opposition supporters clash with security services

18 August: Mutinying soldiers carry out a coup

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#EZ News

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