#even considering the toxicity of how heavy the expectations were and how little communication was happening

[nightowlwriting]

summary: steve is acting weird. avoiding you, being snippy and mean, leaving the room when you enter. all you want is your boyfriend back, but all he wants is to pretend you don't exist. when he's almost hurt on a mission, you do what you're made to do.

word count: 11k

reader specifics: no race/gender/sexuality/body type mentioned, no pronouns for reader used, powered!reader, insecure!reader

warnings: steve is mean to the reader in the beginning, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, canon-level violence, brief ptsd symptoms, slight description of blood, brief mention of racism in the '30s & '40s

brief mentions of: reader's parents being toxic, homelessness, past accidents, ableism in the past & present

note: this one hurt me lmfao. idk why this went the way it did but i'm not mad at it // also i am a queer, trans, disabled american. i have fundamental disagreements with things that marvel/the mcu as it stands for and some of the more nuanced things that you might not notice unless you're looking for it. this will take place in my writing because i cannot separate myself from the lens in which i consume/create content.

title credit: lil nas x

mobile masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3

Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his. Sure - he’s clever, righteous, courteous… You can’t forget he’s also drop-dead gorgeous because every trashy gossip magazine in a three-state radius of New York doesn’t let you forget. Neither does the sight of him waking up in your bed every morning. (Well, actually, maybe that would remind you if he was still fucking doing that.)

But lately, you’ve had to rely on the fucking tabloids to catch a glimpse of your super-hero boyfriend. The university class you had picked up on a whim at the end of the summer - Life & Times of the ‘30s and ‘40s - avoids any mention of Steve Rogers and the Howling Commandos. Not that your classmates do because, Christ on a bike, those magazines manage to catch pictures of you and Steve in moments that you don’t even remember. Plus, you’re an Avenger too. It’s bound to catch some attention when you waltz into a college classroom.

You’re sure if you were an undergrad trying to fill a gen-ed requirement and were sitting next to someone who could kill you without blinking but also dating Captain Rogers you’d be a little distracted too. You try not to blame your classmates too much, but they do make it hard to concentrate with their -really dating Captain America?- and -wonder if I could get an autograph- whispers. None of that matters because you’re learning, really studying, in between missions and missing Steve and believing that maybe the gossip reporters are right.

Maybe he’s forgotten about you.

You grit your teeth and push the thought away. It does you no good right now, while you’re training with Peter. He’s working his way up to bona fide missions and, because you’re the only one on the team who has experience with real-life teenagers outside of saving their lives, it’s up to you to get him to the level that he needs to be. Plus, the mission where he’s going to get his gills wet is just you, Tony, Steve, Nat, and Bucky. You’d much rather be the one to train him because you won’t traumatize him.

Right now, though, you’re just kicking his ass to try and get rid of some of the tension in your body. You feel a little bad about it, but when you started as his mentor you told him point-blank that you’d never go easy on him. That meant if you were having a bad day he either needed to up his game or he’d have a bad day too. It appears he’s taken that to heart as he struggles to dodge the hits you’re throwing his way. He lunges out of the way when you try to land a right hook but practically walks into the leg sweep that sends him crashing to the ground.

“Awe,” Peter groans, letting his guard down. You take the momentary lapse of focus to grab him by the collar of the hoodie he’s wearing and haul him to his feet, jerking one fist back to cold-clock him but he beats you to it. You hear the sound of your nose cracking before you feel it but then the pain rushes you all at once. You’ve had worse but coming from Peter, the move surprises you. You don’t yell out but he does when you push him away from you and call the fight off. Peter practically yelps your name, hands up by his head as he watches you bend at the waist, both hands over where your nose is absolutely gushing blood. “I am so sorry, I just reacted-!”

“It’s fine, Pete,” You shake your head and stand straight again, the blood beginning to leak through your fingers, “Just go get me a towel, okay?” Peter practically trips over his feet to get something for your nose and as you track him on his way into the locker rooms, you see Steve, Bucky, and Nat. The latter are looking your way, eyebrows raised like they’re asking you if you’re okay. Steve hasn’t even broken stride in his conversation so you wave them off with a bloody hand. Peter’s back in a flash, pressing a wet towel into your grasp and snapping you out of your self-pity party. “It was a good hit,” You compliment as you wipe your face off, “I just wasn’t expecting it. Prob’ly wouldn't have landed it if I had.”

He wrings his hands, shifting from foot to foot. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s a good thing, Peter, means you’re getting better.” You deadpan, checking to see if your nose has stopped bleeding yet, “I don’t think you actually broke it, but I’ll go down to medical to check later.” You do your best to clean up your hands with the wet towel, but it’s so soaked with your blood that it mostly just smears it around. You grimace and shake your head. “Well, I should go now before our sparring match ends up looking like I murdered you.”

“I’ll go with,” He offers, “I’m the one who broke your nose.” You let Peter walk you down to medical even though you were originally going to refuse. Perhaps petty, but it was the way that Steve didn’t even look your way as you left that made you let the teenager walk you the two floors to where you’d be able to clean yourself up. He hums in the elevator and you know that he wants to ask you something - it’s the way he holds his mouth when he’s prying for information or keeping a secret that tips you off. Finally, just before the elevator opens, you sigh and turn to him.

“What, Peter?” He grins but then it falls when he has to skitter after you down the hall. Maybe that’s why it falls - the question he asks next nearly sends you to your ass.

“Is everything okay with you and Captain Rogers?” He easily catches up to you when you stop in your tracks, ignoring that you’re still bleeding a little bit down your face and you might be dripping blood everywhere from where it’s run down your arms.

“What?” You do your best to look confused like everything is fine, but Peter is perceptive. He may fumble around and be pretty awkward, but those are really just teenager things that he’ll hopefully outgrow. You should have known that when someone caught onto how bad things are on your end, it would be Peter. (You wonder if Nat or Bucky has brought it up with Steve, considering he’s spent more time with them in the past week than he’s seen you in the past month.) “We’re fine.” Your words are stilted as you begin walking to the medical wing much faster than before.

“I just thought I’d ask, well, because I’ve sort of noticed… Something just seems off, you know? Like, you two used to spend a lot of time together, and maybe it’s the recon mission coming up, but I was just thinking that you two really barely look at each other even when you’re in the same -”

“Peter!” You say his name much louder than either of you expected and both of you jump. “Peter,” You say softer, looking at the glass door to the medical wing instead of him, “Just leave it, okay? It’s nothing you have to worry about, kid.” Peter ducks around to open the door, forcing you to look at him. “He’s just focused on his stuff and I’m focused on getting you whipped into shape for this mission. We only have two days.” Once you’re inside and surrounded by the medical crew Tony keeps on staff, he thankfully drops it. You love Peter, you do, but it’s a lot like having a little brother. You can only love them so much before you want to fucking strangle them. Eventually, as the doctor checks to make sure he hasn’t broken your nose, you have to order him away to go study or something. “I’ll join you later,” You promise him as the doctor prods at your tender flesh, “I have an essay due soon.”

That’s another thing that’s been bugging you that Peter surely picked up on. Nearly everybody knew you were taking a course at the local community college, but nobody knew what it was about. You’d wanted to keep it a secret until you told Steve, but the day you had registered he’d flown out for a two-week mission without telling you or saying goodbye. After that, you decided it didn’t really matter if anyone knew what class you were taking, and keeping it a secret sort of spiraled from there. If they wanted to know they could look it up. Maybe it was petty, but you just wanted the class to be over and done with so you could forget that you really only picked it up so you relate to your boyfriend more.

If you can even call Steve your boyfriend anymore. You’re not so sure where you stand and, honestly, you’re really close to giving up on the relationship as a whole but you can’t do that. Before you were dating, you were friends, and Steve… He never gave up on you. Not once. How could you repay him by giving up on your relationship? The one that you thought was The One? Even if it hurts, even if you’re unsure more than sure these days, how could you? Somewhere, though, you know you deserve better. You don’t deserve the sinking, dark feeling that lingers in your gut for most of your days now or the way that you second-guess every move you make - even in the field. It’s dangerous but you can’t do anything to fix it.

You’re too scared. You know that eventually, it will happen, he’ll break up with you, but you’d like to put that day off for as long as possible. To relish in the love he once had for you, how pure and powerful it was. You’re sure that you’ll never experience anything like that again.

Hell, you might never fall in love again.

Those thoughts don’t do anything to help you, though, so you try not to have them. You get clearance from the doctor and get cleaned up as much as you can without taking a full body shower. The idea to go back to your room and take one crosses your mind but you know that Steve’s probably done training, probably heading back for his own shower, and you don’t want to open that can of worms. Instead, you go to the common room and drop into the couch between Peter and Tony. They’re talking about something something science something something, but you pull your stack of books and notebooks out from the shelf underneath the coffee table and continue outlining your essay from where you left off. The assignment was focused on how the end of WW1 changed American life and then how life changed leading up to and during WW2 but that had hit a little too close to home for you, so you’re writing about the racial tension and overall racism of the times. Tony and Peter keep talking over your back and then you hear footsteps heading toward the common room.

You barely look up when they enter - Nat and Bucky - because it’s fine. It’s normal. They’re just two of Steve’s best friends, that’s all, nothing to be jumpy about. You don’t even register that emotional pain that hits when you realize that, yeah, you’re not one of his best friends anymore. You doubt you’re even considered a friend in his book.

You groan and lean back into the couch, bringing your study materials with you. Peter glances over, skimming over your page and a half of shorthand, and gags. “Jesus, can you write like a normal person?”

“Oh, sorry,” You say lazily, not looking up as you continue to scribble in your incomprehensible code, “I do forget that some of us had privacy at home.” You lift your lips just a little bit to let Peter know you’re kidding, looking up at him through your lashes as you slouch next to him. He looks red in the face. “Besides, once you have to start doing mission reports you’ll be begging me to learn my shorthand and use my stenography machine.”

“I keep telling you that I can update that ol’ thing,” Tony draws your attention. For the first time, you realize that Nat and Bucky are on the loveseat looking at you expectantly. Steve is standing in the corner over their shoulder reading a book from the bookshelf in front of him. His back is tense and he looks like he’s not reading, just listening. You force your eyes back to Tony on your right and shake your head.

“No, because then you’d know my shorthand and it makes me too happy to see you spend hours trying to decipher it.” His eyes wander to your essay again, trying to find any patterns that he can use to figure out what the hell you’re writing on anything ever. He’s opening his mouth to make a smart-ass remark that will no doubt lift some of the weight off of your shoulders when another voice speaks up.

“Wow,” Steve doesn’t even look at you even as he says your name sardonically, “Way to be a team player.” Your mind comes to a screeching halt, trying to figure out what the fuck he’s playing at. Even Bucky and Nat look surprised at the cold way he spoke to you, Tony and Peter both gasping from your side. You can’t say anything, throat tight and burning with tears as you stare at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows. What do you say to that? How do you respond? You know it wasn’t a joke because he’s not laughing, not smiling, not even looking up from that fucking book in his hands. You can’t tell if you’re more hurt or embarrassed, but either way, you don’t want to stick around for someone to get the nerve to say something.

Instead of replying, you slam your textbooks shut and bundle everything into your arms. You doubt Steve even notices that you’re making such a hasty retreat but if he does, he doesn’t say a fucking thing. You feel like you’re in high school - practically running through an empty hallway with your notebooks and textbooks pressed to your chest, trying not to cry. It’s ridiculous. You’re a trained assassin, you’re an Avenger, you are strong and powerful and yet… And yet. You’ve given so much of your heart and soul to Steve Rogers that he can knock you down eight pegs without even trying. Without even looking at you. You can’t wait to go on this fucking recon mission, where you can put all of your focus on making sure Peter is doing okay and gathering the intel. Where you can stop thinking about how easily Steve Rogers seems to be pushing you to the side.

You spend the next two days writing your essay, ignoring almost everyone, and working on your essay. On the day of the recon mission, you’re running out the door for your eight a.m lecture, printed essay in hand, and reminding Tony that he promised to pick you up on campus after class for the mission.

You’re lucky that you went, too. You hadn’t counted on the professor making everyone stand up and tell the class the subject of their essays - didn’t realize that it would be twenty-five percent of the grade on the paper. You’ll never understand college professors and the weird shit they do, but the class is informative and entertaining. He goes around the room, starting on the opposite side of you, so you’ll be last. Great.

Several students did their papers on the propaganda of the time, one student was brave and did her essay on the ethical dilemma of the super-soldier serum and eugenics, and most of the other students focused on pop culture and how it changed. When your professor looks at you it’s almost like he’s expecting you to have done nothing but fawn over Steve and Bucky, considering you know them personally. He looks surprised when you clear your throat, stand and say: “I focused on the casual and institutional racism that faced non-white Americans at the time.” You almost preen when he looks impressed and then the shame fills you. It’s just… You want Steve to be proud of you. You want him to congratulate you on going back to school, even if it’s just for one class. You want him to be happy and surprised that he was the inspiration for taking the class.

Though, lately, the class has been more for you than for him. You like learning new things, pushing the boundaries of assignments, making people uncomfortable with the truth of the times you’re studying as told to you by two people who lived it. It’s nice. Normal.

Everyone needs a little bit of normal.

But, honestly, normal is fucking boring. By the time your class is over and you’re handing in your essay it’s like ants are crawling over your skin. A combination of nerves from the upcoming mission, a head full of fog from whatever is happening with Steve, and a little bit of fear at the thought of taking Peter into the field has you bolting for the door the moment your essay is taken from you. You’d worn your tac-suit underneath a pair of baggy sweats and a loose hoodie, so you don’t even bother slowing down as you head toward the car that Tony has waiting for you. He’s in the front seat, grinning at you from underneath his aviators and Peter is driving.

You slip into the backseat without thinking or looking at who’s there, tossing your bag in the back and peeling your hoodie off. “God, Tone, we’re goin’ to die before we even get to the mission with Petey driving.” You toss your hoodie back to join your bag and finally see who’s sitting next to you.

Of course, it’s Steve. He’s looking at you - but not really. He’s looking through you, like he can’t stand that you’re both crammed in the backseat of Tony’s electric car. His gaze catches you and holds you in place. Everything around you goes cold and fuzzy, making you miss Peter’s indignant complaining that he has his license so he should be able to drive… And then Steve scoffs and looks out his window, ignoring you. It stings but you have a job to do. You make some witty retort back to Peter, but it falls flat as you struggle out of your sweats. This is what life is, you think. Relationships aren’t meant to be forever - you learned that at a young age.

Until your accident at fifteen, you had watched your parents run out of helium, their relationship expanding and cooling in arguments, in days spent not talking, in trips to your grandparents without the other, in passive-aggressive computer searches for divorce attorneys left open for anyone to see. Then, after you were trapped between those machines - after you spent hour after agonizing hour with electricity pressing between your atoms, being torn apart and rebuilt as a young god - after that day you watched them expand against each other before the neutron core of their relationship collapsed on itself and the resulting supernova sent you to the streets. But then Fury found you. Then Tony, then Nat, then Steve.

Your parents exploded out from each other and the shockwaves ruined your life. At least now, your relationship with Steve is ending silently. There’s no explosion, no collapse, no rapid expansion to take over your cosmos. Your relationship with Steve is simply approaching the event horizon, where it will hang in the air until one of you takes the final step and you both become frozen, two collapsing objects on opposite sides of the universe. Maybe that’s what you already are. You feel so far away from him in the back of Tony’s car - like he’s eons and light-years away from you - and you feel so cold. Frozen, down to the bone. It makes you stiff in your replies to Tony and Peter, slow on the uptake when the car pulls up to the quinjet, nearing stasis and unable to respond when Nat asks if you’re okay.

Finally, you turn to look at her, nodding. “Fine,” You clear your throat, “Been a rough day.” You do your best to smile at her, but your face feels heavy. Your chest feels cold and tight, making you worry about your performance on the upcoming mission. When Peter shakes his head next to you, discreetly telling Nat not to press, you’re focused on Steve and the electricity humming in the most base part of your body.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. You turn away and force yourself to smile, throwing a weak and numb arm over Peter’s shoulders. “Are you ready for this, Pete?” You jostle him back and forth, leading him toward the sitting area behind the cockpit. “Gonna get your ass kicked?”

“Please,” He shoves you off, nervously laughing, “Not with the skills you’ve taught me.” He mimics throwing webs, making hissing noises under his breath, and you bark out a laugh, shaking your head.

“You’re payin’ my medical bills when I have to save your ass, Spidey.” You shake your head and strap in next to the wall, Peter taking the seat to your right. Tony, from the aisle across from you, points a thick finger your way.

“You don’t pay medical bills anymore,” He waggles his finger, “So you’ll just have to make him do your homework for a week.”

“Mister Stark!”

“He’ll have to earn shorthand to do your essays,” Nat chimes in from between Bucky and Steve, who are both doing their best to not look at you - or anyone really. “You willing to share that with him?”

You lean back in your seat and jab at Peter with your elbow. “Hell no, so I guess Spider-Boy better do his best.” The arachnid in question grumbles, crossing his arms and slouching in his seat.

“No pressure, right?” He complains, “Not like I’m already nervous or anything.”

“You’ll do fine, kid,” Bucky pipes up, drawing your eyes back to Steve, “It’s goin’ to be a cakewalk.”

“Don’t jinx it, Barnes,” You warn half-heartedly, tucking in on yourself, “We need this to be easy.” From the look on his face - everyone’s face, really - you know that they heard you loud and clear when you were really saying I need this to be easy.

After an uneasy laugh from Bucky, a claustrophobic silence settles over you all as the jet begins to take off. You’re in for an hour ride and plan to spend it going over battle plans with Peter when harsh whispering catches your ear. It’s Bucky and Steve nearly crushing Nat between them until she gets up and sits across from Peter, rolling her eyes. Still, you try your best to run him through the actions you both had planned - the names, the setups you needed to execute them, everything. If something happens to Peter, you’ll never forgive yourself.

And then, cutting through your soft promptings to Peter and his equally soft replies, Bucky’s voice. “Leave it, Steve. Until after this mission.” Even Tony looks up from his tablet, curiosity piqued. Their faces are both red, set hard and angry at each other and your stomach drops. What the hell is going on that Steve ‘Till The End Of The Line Rogers is fighting with Bucky You And Me, Pal Barnes? You must shift, or lean too far into Steve’s eyesight, because for the first time in what feels like years he is looking directly at you - and seeing you, too. It makes your pulse jump and, almost instinctively, you want to reach out and ground yourself on the rubber of the seat underneath you.

You don’t get the chance, though, because Steve speaks. “No, why should I? This is clearly affecting the team.” He’s still looking - glaring - at you like you’ve done something wrong. “What’s the point of waiting? I’ve been waiting to talk about this.”

“Bo, I don’t think this is the time,” Bucky looks over his shoulder at you, then, and you know what’s coming. You know that it’s time, that Steve is about to break up with you in front of your teammates. Your friends. Your family. You steel yourself for the anguish you’re about to feel and then jerk your chin out, hardening your resolve.

“Buck, it’s fine. If Steve wants to address something, he can.”

Natasha says your name, a low warning over the hum of the quinjet. “I think he should wait.”

“Well, I’m not goin’ to wait!” Steve unbuckles himself and stands, “I have tried waiting, and look at where that has gotten me.” He puts his hands on his hips and puffs out a breath. You unbuckle and stand, too, unsure of where this is going. “You need to,” He holds one hand out, pointing at you while his voice shakes. You notice his hand is shaking, too, but fractionally. If you didn’t know Steve as well as you do you may have never noticed it. “You need to get it together.”

“I need to get it together?” You question, eyebrows nearly hitting the ceiling with how fast they shoot up. You’re not totally sure you’ve heard him right because what do you have to get together? The broken shards of your relationship? The information and research for your final paper? The awful way you’ve let yourself be treated for what seems like forever?

“You heard me,” Steve says, at the same time Bucky leans his head back and groans deep in his chest. “What? Someone had to say it.”

“We should wait for this,” Nat speaks up again, but lifelessly. She knows now that you and Steve are both on the warpath, neither of you are going to stop. (That’s also why the two of you work together as a couple so well. Very rarely are you both so worked up about something that you can’t back down, so the other is always there to meet you halfway and get you back to earth.)

“No, no, no,” You say, near hysterically, “No, he wants to do this now? Before a mission? Instead of the fuckin’ weeks we had to hash whatever crawled up his ass and died out? Be my guest. He’s already dragged everyone into this by treating me like a pariah.” You’re not sneering, but your teeth are gritted so tightly together you can hear them scraping and feel a tension headache beginning to bloom in your temples. Bucky looks… Almost incredulous at your statement. Like putting the blame on Steve is a dick move or something.

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy here?” Steve is curling his lip, glaring at you. There’s something behind his eyes, but he’s buried it so deep that you can’t reach it and figure out what it is. “I’m the bad guy, right. Right, right, right.” He scoffs, shakes his head, and then he’s running his fingers through his hair like he really can’t believe what you’re saying to him.

“Well, what else am I supposed to think?” You throw your hands out to the side and let them slap back down on your thighs. “You ignore me, you make me feel like shit, you talk down to me like I’m some insignificant foot soldier. How else am I supposed to take that, Steve?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe ask me what’s wrong? Maybe ask me why I’m acting like this, instead of ignoring all of your problems like a child?” He mirrors your moments, but the sound his hands make when they hit the outside of his suit is more powerful than yours. Fueled by anger, you think. Anger and whatever the hell was in the serum Erskine pumped into Steve.

“Ask you?” You repeat, near-hysterical, “Ask you? Oh yeah, let me get right on that. Hey, Mister Rogers? Mister Captain America? Mister Ignores-His-Partner-For-God-Knows-Why? Hey, just why are you doin’ that?” You’re surprised that you’ve said something so snotty, but you don’t back down. (Steve looks surprised, too, and Bucky has stood up next to his friend like he’s about to start berating you as well. At least he looks more cautious about it, like he’s not totally sure that this fight should be happening.)

The more surprising part of your fight is how fast it’s shut down. Tony and Nat stand at the same time and exchange a glance like they’ve surprised each other. “That’s enough,” Tony starts.

Nat cuts him off. “I don’t care if you fight this one out instead of talking, but if you do it before this recon mission you two are going to blow it. Do you understand me?” She looks dangerous, the sharp edge of a knife spiraling through the air. You force yourself to look away from her, from Tony, from Bucky, from Steve. She’s right. You know she’s right - especially on this mission. Peter is there, going to be in real danger even though there’s not supposed to be one Hydra agent in a four-mile radius. You have to clear your mind and focus on protecting him.

Steve seems to think the same thing because he stands down. When you watch him collapse in on himself, Bucky’s arms around his shoulders, into the little quinjet seats your everything aches. Heart, lungs, eyes - everything. Even though you don’t know what’s going on, what could have possibly happened to make your relationship sink this quickly and out of the blue, you still love him. He’s still The One for you. You still want to be the one to comfort him and make him feel whole when he’s struggling.

But you can’t. You can’t and it kills you.

The heat of battle makes a lot of things fade into the background. Important things like why the fuck are there Hydra agents here? and Steve is going to break up with you when you get back on the jet and Tony swore on the fucking limited edition AC/DC vintage tour poster he has in his office that this would be an easy in/easy out information mission. None of that matters, though, because you’re in deep shit. There are seventeen of them, all primed to the teeth with weapons made to take your team down permanently.

You’re practically glued to Peter, calling out commands and plans for him to initiate. It’s when all of your plans fall through that you take a hit from a heavy fist on purpose, hitting the ground hard. “Plan F, Spidey, Plan F!” You cover the instruction with a groan and then you’re back on your feet, working your way toward him.

“Plan F?” Tony says, somewhere above you in his suit. Your comms crackle ominously as another heat-seeking grenade is launched, interfering with the radio waves your tech relies on. You don’t worry about it, because you know Tony is on it. He’s your eyes in the sky.

Peter is the one who answers his question, watching your close hand-to-hand tilt out of your favor briefly. “Plan Fuck It, Mister Stark.” He grunts as he webs up a Hydra agent, jerking him away from where he was about to slip a knife up and under Natasha’s kevlar. You finally drop the guy in front of you, ignoring Steve’s disappointed Language! and toss one of your knives toward Nat for her to use. Tony is still laughing in your ear, wheezing as he drops down and snags the rifle from one of the snipers and then takes back off.

What your little protégé failed to mention about Plan F is that it’s not just chaos, but controlled chaos. You let loose, letting a soft current cover every inch of your skin as Peter switches to his conductive webbing and takes special care to not web any of his allies. Except for you - if you’re in the way and he catches you in a web it doesn’t matter because you’re you, alive with electricity that drops the men that get caught in the web, too. You rip out of the webs and turn the current off when one of your teammates gets too close.

More Hydra agents are pouring out of the woods, topping out their numbers around twenty-five. That’s twenty-five too many in your opinion, especially when you can see Peter getting tired, his anxiety spiking, his moves having more and more hesitation behind them. You need to get this over with quickly, but you don’t have the options to do that. Steve, Bucky, and Nat are really the heavy-hitters - you, Pete, and Tony are the only ones without serums despite all of your individual abilities. Desperately you reach out for a web that’s still connected to Peter’s arms, pulling him out of the way of a baton that’s about to come down on the back of his neck.

The baton the agent is wielding glints in the coming dusk, freezing you as Peter scrambles past you with a quick apology. You’ve seen that before - seen it, felt it, know it like the back of your hand. There’s no way that you could ever forget that weapon. The man stumbles when his hit doesn’t connect but then rights himself and searches for a new target.

A long, black baton that splits into two prongs at the end is heavy in his hand. Electricity crackles between the bulbs at the end, flashing in the setting sun and your memories. The man only has one, but if it was hooked up to a machine, spinning. If there were four, five, six. If you were pinned between them, screaming in the pain as they rewrote your DNA… You’ve only felt it once, but you’ll never forget it.

And now, you’ll taste it again. On purpose this time. The man holding the stun baton is going for Steve’s back - his strong back, the one that protects people, the one that holds the weight of the world, the one that lays in your bed, the one you see whipping out of rooms as you’re entering just so that he doesn’t have to look at you - and you can’t let that happen. It only takes ten amps to kill a regular human, but you know those things are cranked up to twenty minimum. You don’t want to see how many amps of current it will take to stop Steve’s heart. You’re between the baton and Steve before you can think about what you’re doing or what comes next, the hard bulbs settling unyielding into your side and cranking out maximum power for maximum damage as soon as the current is connected and able to flow from one bulb to the other.

The pain hits you and your throat catches on it. It burns through your body, setting everything on fire - your chest hurts as your heart protests the electrons and then your powers kick in, sweeping them into your very atoms and cells. You’re a live wire now, ears humming and body thrumming with power you’ve only dreamed of. It hurts, and it burns, and you feel tears rising in your eyes because you’re back there - back begging for death or for life or for God and god at the same time - but then it’s over. The man sees that you’re not seizing up, not dropping dead in front of him, and he takes three steps back.

It’s not far enough.

You’ve only felt like this once before - right after you were unhooked from the machine that changed your life and brought you to your new family. You remember how you looked when you were put in front of a mirror with all of the pent up electricity circling your body - how your eyes were filled to the brim and dripping with bright and blue electricity, the way it was jumping across your body, how you didn’t need to breathe because your body was fully saturated with pure, unadulterated power. You wonder if you look like that now and assume you do because you can see the bright blue reflecting in the terrified eyes of the Hydra agent.

Your suit, unlike everyone else’s, is not grounded. It’s metal, metal, metal. You’re made to conduct, born for it, and the earth beneath you comes alive with bright white as you release all of the energy, the power, surges down and out. You’re practiced. You can reach out and feel the synapses and neurons of every human being in the clearing, know exactly where your teammates are standing, and know exactly how to target everything but them and the pitiful amount of electricity their brains carry. You grin, something truly feral and unhinged, and you can see the fear in the Hydra agent. Then, you let go.

You know that everyone is going to be pissed. (Maybe not everyone.) You’re not built for this, not made to take down nearly twenty fucking people at once. As you let go, you feel what they feel. The seizing muscles, the stopping of their hearts, the inside of their bodies crisping against their bones. At that moment, that delicious moment, you see the universe.

You become God. You become everything - your mother and your father and God and god and anyone else who’s watching your life from the ether. You become the judge, jury, and executioner of souls that you don’t know from Adam. You become lightning, and thunder, and exposed nerves of the cosmos at the same time. The world bends to your will and you relish in it, taking that power in your fist and wielding it to protect the man you’ll love for the rest of your life and the family that you’ve made. You will stop at nothing to end this, even if it means turning yourself inside out to do it.

You damn near do turn yourself inside out too, but that doesn’t matter, does it? The blood spilling from your ears, nose, and eyes feels like heaven. It’s hot, and thick, and it’s proof of the power that your body holds. You’re a temple and a sanctuary, a war-room and a bunker, a field of flowers and a sun-dry desert. It does not matter if Steve doesn’t love you at that moment, because you are love and hate wrapped into one package. You are everything and nothing, spread thin at the beginning and the end of time.

And then none of that is true. You are just… You. Standing in a clearing, surrounded by twenty-something dead Hydra agents and your terrified, terrified family. It hurts to breathe and you can taste blood in your mouth, but that’s an afterthought. Steve is still standing behind you, but he is alive. That is what matters.

This is what love is, you think.

Pain and pleasure.

Even if he leaves you, you will always love him.

Pain and pleasure.

You’re weak at the knees when he finally turns to see you - and you’re a sight. Struggling to stand, fingertips blackened with soot but not burnt, blood pouring from your nose, ears, eyes… You look like death, but you feel like life. Someone says something behind you - Peter, maybe? Or maybe Tony, in your comms? - but you don’t hear it. Everything tunnels out, your weak knees finally collapsing as you keel backward.

Steve bears down upon you almost immediately. You’re halfway to unconsciousness when he wraps you up in his arms, keeping you from falling in with the pile of bodies around you. He’s saying your name, harsh and soft and then in a voice like he’s ordering you to wake up. You loll about as he drops you down onto a patch of clear grass, hands searching your body for wounds. When he skims over your side, where the baton has burnt through your suit and your flesh, you surge back toward being able to have cohesive thoughts. The pain brings you back, hands wrapping around Steve’s arm and calling out his name. “Steve! Fuck, that hurts!”

“Honey,” He breathes, “Fuck, we have to get you back to the jet.” His jaw ticks, hair dirty and loose from its normal style. “Why’d you do that?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer from you, ordering Peter to web something up to carry you over your protests.

“I’m fine,” You argue, only slurring slightly, “I feel fine.” But you’re going to let Nat and Bucky load you up on the webbed stretcher anyway because it’s the first time Steve has cared for you in a long time. You want to relish in this moment, the way that he didn't say your name but called you honey.

Well, and because Natasha slides a thumb across her neck over Steve’s shoulder in a silent threat.

You groan when Bucky accidentally grabs your calf where there is an absolutely awful stab wound, but you wave off his apology. “How could you have known?” To be honest, you hadn’t even known it was there until his Vibranium hand was slipping against it and sending shockwaves of pain through you. Peter is next to you the whole time that you’re being carried back to the jet - Tony staying back to begin scanning the bodies of the Hydra agents for the information you need and any other information they may be carrying. The poor kid is nearly at a breakdown, so you reach out to him and shake his arm when his fingers twine with yours. “Chill out, kid, I don’t know how you got it into your head that this is your fault, but it sure isn’t.” He sniffles, but hands back with Steve as Bucky and Nat get you situated in the small medical room of the jet. They transfer you and then make to leave, only Bucky hesitating near the door.

“Stevie’s goin’ to be here soon and… I don’t know what made you do what you did but you have’t explain it to him. He’s bendin’ over backwards to figure it out, and we don’t have’a clue. Came out’a nowhere.” He looks at you for another moment before shaking his head and stepping out of the room. Your head is spinning, partially from what Bucky just said and partially from the pain and stimulus of electricity. You wait there, then, because this is it. This is the event horizon. You wait there, eyes closed, until you hear footsteps approach the med room, and then the door slowly opens. Steve says your name, holding all the finality and weight of an atomic bomb. You don’t open your eyes until he swings a chair next to the stretcher and lays a hand on your calf.

“You don’t have to do this,” You finally say, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. “I know that you don’t want to.” Steve only scoffs and begins to wash the stab wound using a packet of soap and a water bottle. You say his name twice before he looks at you, something between hate and hurt curdling into a glaze over his eyes that stops you in your tracks.

“Just let me do this. It is the least that you can do.” His words are painful and stilted, like it’s taking force to push them past his teeth. You lay back down and close your eyes, content to just feel the pain of Steve beginning to stitch you up and then dress the wound before you feel the pain of Steve leaving you like you knew he always would. (Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his.)

When he’s done he sits back and puts his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He heaves a heavy sigh and then shakes it off, “I’ll dress your burn, and then we’ll talk.” And normally, yes, you would agree but this is too important. You want to get it over with so you can lick your wounds metaphorically and dress them literally - and then you want to go home, you want to pack your bags, and you want to disappear and remake your life somewhere else.

Some far-off place where everyone you know won’t take one look at your face and know that you’re still painfully, deeply in love with Steve Rogers, end of your semester be damned. Family you’ve made be damned. You can’t sit around and be in love with him like a neon sign on a dark highway while it’s painfully clear that he hasn’t had a sign on his highway in a long time.

So instead of agreeing, you swing your legs over the stretcher and swallow your flinch when the burn pulls tight. Steve opens his mouth to argue but you give him a tight-lipped shake of your head and his jaw snaps shut. “No,” You say, voice not giving in to the emotion swirling in your chest. “I have let this go on long enough.”

It’s the wrong thing to say because Steve fucking scoffs again and looks away from you. “One day was long enough.” He says, cutting straight to your core. Okay, ouch. You take a deep breath and shake your head to try and bite back the tears that are inevitably rising in your eyes. If one day was long enough for him to realize he doesn’t want to be with you, why did he let it go on for nearly a full year? Why did he spend so long leading you on, pulling you by a thread before garroting your heart with it? What was the point?

“If you want to leave me, just say that,” You reply harshly, standing and wobbling away from him. He just watches you go, watches the way you struggle past the lead weights your muscles have become, the way you’re starting to feel the stab wound on your leg, the way the skin on your burn is beginning to blister and only just now losing its heat. He just watches you, where the Steve that loved you once upon a time might have helped. You turn your back on him, hands on your hips so that you can hide the way that you’re crying and your hands are shaking.

“If I want to leave you? If?” He says. You hear the scrape of his chair as he stands, “I think after what you’ve done, it’s not an if, sweetheart.” The way he says it tastes like iron. Steve never calls you sweetheart like he never calls you by your name. It’s always honey, lover, dovie. You don’t turn to face him because you’re struggling to keep yourself above water. “I spent so long thinkin’, wonderin’, askin’ myself - God damnit, will you look at me?” You turn slowly, not because you’ve never heard Steve speak like that but because his voice is desperate and raw. When you turn, you’re not sure what to expect. Maybe him, standing in front of you, broad-shouldered and disappointed like in those PSA’s he had to film once. Maybe he’d be angry, hands clenched at his sides and eyes narrowed like he gets in meetings when he doesn’t agree with something but he’s out-voted. But you never expect to see him crying, lip wobbling, folded in on himself like a young boy instead of the strong, invincible man you’ve come to love.

He looks so different.

It hits you, then, that you’re not looking at Steve Rogers. Not really. He's not Steve Rogers, not Captain America, not even Captain Rogers. You see him as he was - before America spat it’s untruths all over him and injected him with a serum that changed who he was, is, will be. He’s not the able-bodied man that you know, not strong and unreachable, not the heartthrob that overshadows the team during press events. He’s not America’s Darling, not really. Not where it counts.

You’re looking at Stevie Rogers. Stevie Rogers who, for all intents and purposes, was supposed to die before he made it out of toddlerhood or soon thereafter. Stevie Rogers who the doctors said wasn’t supposed to survive. Stevie Rogers who grew up sickly, rattling painful breaths and never playing ball with the neighborhood boys. Who couldn’t walk until middle school when he got his braces off. Who never had a partner because Bucky, strong and handsome and tall Bucky, was always deemed the better option. Who believed in his country so much that he tried to sneak into the second world war, subjected himself to a painful medical procedure so that he could change his very DNA to be what the world wanted him to be.

Captain Steve Rogers. Captain America. Strong, blond, patriotic, resilient.

You’re sure that if men don’t want to go to therapy now, in the modern age, they certainly didn’t want to go in the ‘40s. So where did that leave Steve, your Steve, standing in front of you and looking small, and broken, and sad, and alone? Did they expect him to take his new, taller, working body and run with it? Did they not think about how he would lose a part of himself in the process? How did they expect him to go from disabled to abled without some disconnect?

You think about the You That You Were Before and the You That You Are Now, and how you lost a part of yourself when the accident gave you your powers and how you’d lose yourself if someone figured out a way to take them away. You Before formed your identity around being normal - living in a shitty home with shitty parents, sure, but normal - and You Now form your identity around your powers, your team, your job, your love. If you lost those things, what did you have left? Who would you be?

When Steve lost his identity and became everything that America wanted everyone to think that America was, what did he have left? Sure, he could tell himself that he represents America - strong and patriotic and just - but it must have conflicted with everything he knew about himself before that. You know that disabled people now know that American society is unjust, unfit for them with abled people not willing to make room to allow them to thrive. You can only imagine what it was really like for Steve in the ‘20s and ‘30s and ‘40s. What he had to do just to survive. (Medical experimentation, you remind yourself. Did they know it wouldn’t kill him? Did they know his body wouldn’t rip itself apart with the new sinewy muscle they were packing on? Did they care? Or was he just a body they saw as broken? A project to fix? To turn him into something more like them and call it patriotism?)

You shake your head at him, still filled with despair, and try to figure out what he’s talking about. “Stevie,” You start, pet name easily replacing what you had been calling him because it’s not fair to shoe-horn him into a body that doesn’t feel like his own. You wonder if he still expects the bone-grinding pain that he used to tell you would happen when it rains. He raises a hand, a strong and family hand, shaking his head.

“I just need to know why I wasn’t enough for you,” Steve looks sad, slouching in on himself like he’s expecting to get his ass handed to him in another alleyway and hope Bucky is there to save him. “I need to know why you wouldn’t just break up with me if you wanted to see other people so badly.” You suck in a shocked breath because, okay, that’s not what you were expecting. Between that and the paradigm shift you’ve had on how Steve must view his identity, body, and self, you’re stunned. Steve continues like he doesn’t even register that you look shocked and pale and now you’re crying because he thinks you’re cheating on him? “And I get it. I get it. You have no idea how much I understand. If I were you, I wouldn’t want me either, okay?”

You cut him off there because what the actual God damn fuck is he talking about? “No, Stevie, I’m not cheating on you.” You shake your head again and this, your statement, lights a fire in him. He still looks like Stevie rather than Steve, but there’s anger there. You imagine that’s what it might have looked like moments before he got himself in trouble back before he was serumed. “I’m not.”

“Oh, yeah?” He challenges, jaw ticking and chin jerking up, “Oh, yeah? You can’t lie to me. I know, okay? The act is up, it’s over, I know, okay? You can stop pretending.”

“Steve, I do not fucking know what you’re talking about but I”m not cheating on you!” You raise your voice, not really angry but more out of necessity. You need to get it out of his head that he is anything less than everything you want - that you could possibly love anyone more than you love him.

“I wanted to clarify something for you,” Steve says like he’s reading an old script from when he was just a beefy, red/white/blue stage prop for the American military, “I am excited to meet with you, but there are some rules. Do not talk about Captain Steve Rogers. I don’t want to hear about him,” As he continues to recite something that has clearly hurt him, you go lax. You know exactly what’s happened - your fists unclench, your jaw drops a little bit, and it feels like someone has gutted you, “I think it is wise to keep work and pleasure separate, and it’s a rule I will enforce heavily. I look forward to seeing you again.” He’s sneering at the end, tears falling down his ruddy cheeks.

“Steve,” You try again, but he cuts you off.

“Am I just work for you?” His voice is shaking more than you thought possible, and so are his hands. You’ve never seen Steve so off-kilter, so thrown, and it breaks your heart that yes, technically, you’re the cause of this. Before this, before this horrible misunderstanding, your relationship with Steve was the paragon of trust so neither of you cared if the other read emails or texts. You remember the email - the email from your fucking college professor - because it had made you so angry that he’d referred to your relationship with Steve as something as simple and base as just pleasure - like you could even put words to the galaxy of a relationship you had with Steve - that you’d gone to the gym to work off some of that irritation. You hadn’t wanted to take it out on anyone accidentally. When you came back from the gym, Steve was gone on that two-week mission that he’d left on without saying goodbye.

Oh, God. You feel sick to your stomach as the paradigm of the way that Steve’s been treating you shifts violently to the left. You have to physically hold yourself up and try to speak past the lump in your throat. Steve looks… Brokenly smug. Like he knows he’s right, but he’d rather gnaw his own legs off than be right.

“No,” You croak, “No, Steve, you’ve got it all wrong.” You want to reach for him, but it feels like the room is closing in on you. You’re second-guessing everything now - especially what you’ve just said. How many people said the exact same thing to him pre-serum because they said something meant for Bucky to him? How many times did he hear that when he was getting a new diagnosis, hoping for the best? How many times had his own mother said it to him when he told her something someone had said, fresh-faced and not yet used to the way that abled people sometimes treated disabled people? You think you might be sick. “That email was from my professor, Steve. I’m not cheating on you, I’d never.” He laughs darkly and sits back down in his chair, head in his hands again. You try to gather the strength to move toward him when you see his shoulders shaking, a telltale sign that he’s crying.

“A professor,” He says with a watery laugh, “Right.”

Finally, you realize that he needs you, needs to know you love him, that you’d do anything for him. You can iron out the kinks later - figure out why he didn’t want to come to talk to you past the original hurt, why he treated you so coldly, why he didn’t trust that you wouldn’t do this to him - but now, you need to show him that you’re here. That you choose him. That you’ll always choose him.

You make your way to him and set a shaking hand on his shoulder. For a brief second you think he’s going to shake you off but then Steve’s hand shoots up and latches onto where your hand is resting, dipping his head to press against your arm. “Stevie, please,” You say, unsure of what you’re asking him to do, “I picked up a class, just one, and it’s… I picked it up for you, it’s about the ‘30s and ‘40s and…” He looks up at you and he looks so broken - face ruddy and wet with tears, lip wobbling, chest heaving as he tries to not sob. His brows are knit and he looks confused, “I just wanted to be able to understand you better. You had to leave so much of yourself at the door when you joined the Avengers, had to leave so much of yourself in the ice… In Erskine’s lab… Stevie, I just wanted you to be able to be you when you’re with me. I wanted to know the you that you were before you became Captain America.” Your voice is shaking, knees knocking together, and honestly? You feel like you might blackout.

“What?” He rasps, “What?”

“He sent that email because too many kids signed up for his class thinking that they’d be able to look at pictures of you and Buck for a semester. Emailed me directly because he knows we’re…” You choke on your words, shaking your head because you’re not even sure there’s a we anymore, “Because he knows I’m on the team. Didn’t want me walking in and making his class about just a few years in the ‘30s and ‘40s rather than the culture of the time.” You don’t know how else to explain it to him, but Steve isn’t saying anything - practically isn’t moving or breathing- so you continue to try and explain what’s really happening as best as you can, “And - and that email made me so angry because he singled me out, didn’t email anyone else about it, and I left to try and work some of that out; I didn’t want to take it out on you, or let it spoil - let it spoil… But when I came back from the gym, you were gone. You were gone for two weeks and I didn’t know why.” You’re crying harder now and pretty sure that within the next sixty seconds you’re going to collapse if you don’t sit down.

Steve shakes his head, still looking like he doesn’t understand. “What?” He says for a third time, “A class? A college class?”

“I just wanted to feel closer to you,” You confess, “Just wanted to understand a fraction of your life without making you do the heavy liftin’ and teachin’ me. Shouldn’t have’t do that,” You’re sobbing, barely biting out your words as you realize that something you’ve done to strengthen your relationship with Steve has destroyed it, “Shouldn’t have to explain a whole different time just to feel loved, Stevie. Should be able to be with someone who understands without you havin’ to explain.” You’re not sure you can say Peggy’s name out loud, and you hope he understands what you’re saying without making you actually say it, “Should’a been able to have love with someone who knew, and I know I’m nothin’ compared to what you should’a had, but I want to be. I want to be in the same ballpark instead’a watchin’ from the stands.” You wipe your face with your free hand and look away from Steve when he stands in front of you. You don’t want to see the look on his face - what he’s thinking about what you’ve said.

He says your name and you glance at him, but his expression stops him in your tracks. Where Steve looked broken and hurt and fuming with anger to hide the anguish, now he looks stricken. You shake your head, “No, no. I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty-”

“You think that I care about whether or not you can understand the ‘40s?” He cuts you off, hands moving to curl around your biceps, “You think that I care whether or not you can relate to a time in history when you weren’t even thought of?”

“Of course I love you. I love you more than anything in this world, but you shouldn’t have to not care, Steve,” You argue, shaking your head, “That’s what I’m trying to say. You should be with someone who understands without explanation. I just wanted to give that to you - didn’t know that this would happen.”

“I should be with someone who loves me,” He argues back, “If you love me, that’s all that matters. My past be damned.”

“But your past is you!” You try to pull away from Steve, but he anchors you there. You’re dizzy from being so close to him after this long, but also because of how many different twists this situation has taken. You can barely keep up with how bad your communication with Steve has become - barely keep up with how you need to fix it, or how to fix it. “Your past is you,” You repeat when you realize that Steve isn’t going to let you go. “And you shouldn’t have to give that up so that someone will love you.”

“But you love me,” He says desperately, ducking his head so that he’s nearly nose to nose with you, “You love me, right?”

“More than anything,” You say, closing your eyes and relishing in the feeling of being so close to Steve, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I don’t care about what anyone else thinks, or anyone else. I’ll even stop goin’ to class if you want me to - Steve, I just can’t do this anymore. Can’t do this thing where you don’t talk to me about what’s botherin’ you.” You’re choking up, barely whispering, but you know he hears you. YOu can feel his warm breath on your face, “Nearly fuckin’ killed me.”

“I thought it was goin’ to be easier,” He breathes, nose bumping yours, “When you eventually decided to leave me for him. Thought I was savin’ myself some trouble.” You can practically taste his tears as they fall again, “Buck and Nat tried to tell me that you weren’t - that you wouldn’t - but I just couldn’t believe them.”

When you open your eyes, his are closed. This close to him you can see the soft freckles that are blooming over his eyelids, his soft eyelashes kissing his cheekbones. You can feel him breathing, feel him nearly pressed against you in a way that feels hauntingly nostalgic and terrifyingly fleeting; like you’ll be able to feel his warmth for years to come, but he’s about to disappear. “That’s okay,” You finally whisper, “It’s okay that you didn’t believe them. That you thought what you thought. It’s okay.” He shakes his head against yours, opening his mouth to protest, but you refuse to let him feel guilty about feeling this way - you have plenty of time to sit him down and talk to him candidly about the way he acted because of these feelings, anyway. “If I would have been in your place I’m not sure I would have believed them.”

“I treated you so badly…” He shifts and wraps his arms around you. It’s almost immediate - you relax into his arms and wind yours around his waist, keeping him pulled against you as he presses his face into your neck and you press your cheek against his chest. “So awfully.”

“We’ll talk about that, okay? But later. Right now you just need to know that I love you, Steve. I love you more than I can tell you - more than I can express.” You want to kiss him, but you can’t. Can’t kiss him, you need to wait for him to kiss you, for him to close that gap and show you that he still loves you like you love him. “We’ll have to have a talk, a long and hard conversation about this, Stevie, but for now… For now, I’m just content to be with you, okay? MIssed you so much.”

He sighs, nose pressing against yours again. “Missed you too, dovie. Missed you more than I can even say,” His voice breaks as his lips brush yours. Your relationship is not without its flaws and problems - Steve’s actions when he thought you were cheating on him are proof of that and, well, the fact that you didn’t realize what was happening, why it was happening, or a large part of your boyfriend’s psychological makeup having an impact on your relationship while it went unknown by you… There is a lot of work for the two of you to do, a lot of work to do, a lot of communication to be done… But you’d do it all for Steve, over and over again.

When he presses forward and presses his lips gently to yours, you know that he’ll do it all for you, over and over again, too.

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers/reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel imagine #mcu imagine

[becomingbts]

Time heals (sometimes) - Teaser 1

Summary: 6 years ago, (Y/N) thought that she was finally taking her life into her hands, leaving behind a toxic and abusive relationship with a man who taught her she’d never be worthy of love. However, it became hard to ignore his words when she met her seven soulmates who rejected her without even giving her a chance to prove herself. It took (Y/N) 3 years to realize that it wouldn’t be her end. She would live on to prove them all wrong; she would become what they all thought she wasn’t: someone worthy of love. And as she stands proudly on the stage, under the burning spotlights and the applause and the cries of the delirious crowd, she feels alive. Alive, just like the bond she believed to be broken.

Pairings: Y/N x OT7

GENRE: Soulmate AU!, Idol Y/NAU!, semi social-media AU!, ANGST (mainly), fluff, romance, maybe smut in the series.

Ask or comment to be tagged!

Warnings: The series is going to be heavy with a lot of personal experiences mixed into the fiction, so this is going to be kind of therapeutic for me. Please, consider not reading the series if you are not comfortable with: abandonment issues, anxiety, panic attacks, depression, self-harm (not descriptive and only part of MC’s past), suicide thoughts (in the past), toxic behavior, toxic and abusive relationship (in the past), depreciating self-talk and low self-esteem, a lot of curse, physical and mental pain, near death experience situation (in the past), and maybe smut scenes (happy ending though, but it will probably be quite the ride).

NOTE: I was thinking of “Moonchild” and for some reasons, some memories I’d prefer to have forgotten came back to my mind and instead of making a full-blown panic attack like I used to, I thought that it would make a great plot if I mingled that with a soulmate and idol verse and that’s how I started going into it. This is going to be loaded with personal experiences, even if they’ll probably be a bit differently explained compared to what I experienced. Despite the heavy themes and many warnings, I hope you guys will like it. I think I really needed to write it. It will be a semisocial media AU!, because I like the idea of being to write some of their conversations through texts. However, I do plan on fully writing most of it. Though, you’ll have some updates about their social medias as I will update their profiles soon after you see this. I will probably mix a lot of different media for this story such as songs written and produced by myself. I’ll upload for real MC’s EP. So expect a lot for this story. Please take well care, feedback is always very warmly welcomed, it helps me to write for real. If you need to talk to someone, my dms are always opened and if you really don’t feel well, please call urgency numbers.

Thank you for reading,

-Dolly

"And we will close our night show with the most awaited segment! The audience jumped during the commercial break, it's amazing how many people just joined us! Welcome to our interview segment and especially, welcome and thank you so much for being with us Moon!”

"Of course, thank you for having me on your radio show." 

"Thank you for coming! I have to mention that this is your very first interview with another media than your usual personal platforms like Vlive, YouTube, or Instagram, so we are honored to be the first ones to greet you! Do you plan on making more activities outside your personal schedule for the promotion of your new album?" 

"If I may be honest, not really. I'm the most comfortable in my own safe zone and I tend to try not to get out of it too often. It might close some doors to me but I'm comfortable with my fans that way. However, I often listen to this radio show and a lot of my fans were enthusiastic about that so I thought: why not."

"Ah, thank you so much, it means a lot! Your fans are indeed a strong community and they support you whether you go to TV shows or not. Besides, you've been a very active artist on social media and your whole career started on YouTube and SoundCloud before you signed to your current agency. We have to congratulate you on your journey! It's barely been two years but here you are, with your second EP 'People'! Congratulations on the release!" 

"Thank you very much."

“For our listeners who might not know who Moon is, I’m going to introduce her to you: Moon, your real name is (Y/N), you were born on August 4th, 1998, Incheon and your mother was American so you pursued your studies in America. You have been taking online classes since the start of your career at the HULT, university of Florida, and even recently got your Business Bachelor, now aiming for a Ph.D. You started your journey on Youtube, uploading covers and vlogs until you finally started producing your own songs, releasing them on Soundcloud. You started gaining a lot of followers; thus, you started on other social media such as Twitter or Instagram. One year ago, you release your first EP called ‘BALANCE’  which is the reason why the music label BigHit reached to you and asked you if you wanted to sign with them. Did I get everything right?”

“You are. It feels like you know my life better than I do.”

"Ah not at all, but thank you, I am glad that I didn’t say something wrong! Would you mind sharing the concept of this EP? Many of your fans probably already know but maybe some of our daily listeners might not!" 

"Of course. As you said, 'People' is my second EP, yet the first to be studio recorded. Signing with BigHit is a big step in my career and it created a lot of changes, hence I decided to focus on the people I have met, stayed with, became close to, or detached myself from… This is dedicated to the people who changed my life, whether they intended to or not. It could be interpreted as my social life diary in a way." 

"I see, many of your fans have said that the album held a very distinct duality, with a bright and a much darker side that made quite the storm on social media. ‘Y/N our Moon’ and ‘MOONISBACK’ trended for a few nights on Twitter. Do you have anything you'd like to say about that?" 

"I guess it was a surprise because this mini-album is really raw and uncensored. I didn't try to sugarcoat it nor to romanticize my experiences. I hope it brings comfort to people who haven't been feeling well. Because I think that it’s always easy to say that it's going to be okay to someone who’s not feeling well. Everything doesn’t suddenly become okay. And it's fine to be hurting, you can learn to live with this pain and move on while still hoping for better days. There is no end to hopes, and this is why my EP has a brighter side to it. Not everything is always a vast cold ocean. Sometimes, there are small or big waves that come crashing into our universe and they form something that we couldn't have imagined. They bring a little piece of sunshine in life and it helps to move on. So I hope that people who are struggling know that, despite how insignificant I might be, there is a person that understands and can relate to their struggles. I hope it can comfort them, even just slightly, to know that they are not alone." 

"That's a beautiful way to put it."

"Ah, thank you." 

"I have to ask because I'm really curious and I’m definitely not the only one: a lot of your fans have been theorizing about who could your title track ‘TIME’ be about? I have to ask you on the behalf of everyone. Is it okay for me to break the mystery?" 

"Time is a track that shouldn’t have made it to the EP. It’s a bit like a fit of personal anger that I didn’t know I needed to let out.”

“Your anger was definitely heard and understood. People have been curious about the addressee of the song especially because of the line ‘maybe it’s time I finally let go of you’. So can you tell us who is it about?” 

“Uh...Time was written for my seven soulmates who rejected me years ago." 

"Seven!?"

"Yeah, it's a lot I know.”

“Is that why you have covered your soul mark with this tattoo on your arm? Netizens talked about it a lot; normally idols tend to cover their arm from the public eyes to avoid for their soulmates’ names to be known, but instead, you were proudly showing your tattooed arm, fully covering what might be under the ink. Many people assumed that it meant that you didn’t have a soulmate at all.” 

“Well, I decided to cover the mark because there was no reason for me to keep it without hurting myself. I decided that I have been hurt enough to let myself take a rest. I didn’t see the point in hiding my arm either, I’m proud of my tattoo, I mean; it’s really a beautiful piece in my opinion. But to answer the assumptions, I don’t consider that I have soulmates anymore, hence why the tattoo as well." 

"This is really a heartbreaking story, it must have been extremely hard. Breaking a soul bond is immensely dangerous, my link with my husband already itches when I spend the day away from him, so seven soul bonds? It must have been terrible." 

"It was, but the most important is where I am now. I'm not lingering on that anymore because they made their choices and I thus made mine. I just hope that they all are healthy and happy where they are." 

"I have to say I'm really impressed (Y/N)-shi, you really have a delicate and caring soul. I probably wouldn't be able to have such soft words about your soulmates had I been in your shoes."

"I think living the actual experience made me reflect on myself a lot. I'm comfortable where I am now, I'm able to do music and make what I love. I have nothing to complain about, I'm surrounded by lovely and supportive fans, I have the best manager I could have ever hoped for and a warm and healthy family. I don't need more on my side." 

"I'm glad you are happy then. Many of your fans have pointed out it's really hard to make you smile and some wonder if you are happy, especially after the release of ‘TIME’, I don’t blame some of your fans for being worried." 

"Ahhh, is smiling the only way to prove that we are happy? I believe my words are usually a bit more impactful than my facial expressions. I have to admit that I don't often smile, it's not a bad thing, at least I don't think so, but I just don't feel the need to smile when I don’t feel like it. Besides, I get shy easily when I expose my emotions too much." 

"It's hard to imagine you being shy but at the same time now that I have you in front of me, our listeners cannot see you, but I definitely feel that you have a very shy and reserved aura despite the energy you give off when you are on stage. It’s not unfriendly either, but you’re just very soft-spoken and quiet in everything you do. Like when you came in, I barely heard you entering at all; you’re just silently making your way without a fuss, it’s really endearing, to be honest."

"Ah... I’ve been told that my stage persona and the ‘me’ in real life were two different entities but I don’t really think it’s true. I'm extremely introverted and it doesn't really mix well with the stage. So I just put it on the side for the people who came to see me and deserve to see more than a 24 years old woman who has troubles speaking without stuttering in front of other people." 

"You stutter when you have to speak in front of other people?" 

"Sometimes it happens when I’m nervous, and I’m very often nervous. Like right now, I’m extremely nervous. But it's something I'm working on." 

"Well it's definitely paying off because I couldn't sense that you were nervous at all, just very calm and soft, but I wouldn’t be able to imagine you being nervous enough to stutter."

"A lot of artists actually have stage fright, most of them just don't want to admit it because it doesn't sound sexy when you tell your fans you're actually shaking before going up there for the show." 

"This is very true, but it's refreshing to hear it from someone who actually lives through that rather than fan theories." 

"That's understandable." 

"Our time is coming to the end, do you have anything you would like to add before we sadly get our mics taken away?" 

"Oh uhm, everyone, my new mini-album 'People' came out very recently and yet it already received a lot of love so I want to thank you for that. This EP was a very personal project and I was worried about how it would be welcomed but you all made me realize that I have nothing to fear because we'll always find someone who can relate to our stories. As long as I can help even one person with my songs, then it's enough for me. Thank you for listening to me and my voice. I hope we'll be able to meet soon. Love you my fans and non-fans as well, please take well care of yourselves in those times. Be careful and stay safe. Wear your mask!" 

“Thank you so much Moon for being with us tonight. Our time was short but I really enjoyed it, I hope our listeners were able to feel that very warm presence of yours through the mic. ‘Give Me A Song’ of Moon’s EP ‘People’ will now be playing and we will see each other tomorrow night with IU for the release of her new album LILAC. Take care!”

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Uploaded : 08/04/2021

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[fandomsonrequests]

unexpected friend

fandom: ATEEZ

characters: choi san

reader: fem

word count: 5.4k

summary:  fate decided to test this decade long feud between you and choi san

notes: enemies to lovers AU, toxic themes, character death, substance abuse (it’s not explicit) such as alcohol and cigarettes, heavy themes, language, violence 

You had no idea where it started— you just knew that you hated Choi San with every fiber of your being. And unsurprisingly, the feeling is mutual with you.

Maybe it started in kindergarten when he accidentally pushed you to the ground in the game of tag. You got so mad at him, saying that he meant it when he obviously didn’t, calling him stupid because “all boys are stupid.”. Or maybe it started when you knocked over his tower of building blocks as revenge. Or was it when he dipped your pigtails in paint to get back at you? Or maybe the time he spread rumors that you had cooties causing everyone to avoid you like the plague.

Whatever the reason, it spiraled into a childhood rivalry that continued as you grew older. The endless cycle of cat versus dog, taking revenge on one another, followed into grade school, where you reached your horse phase and he reached his gun dam phase. It was inevitable you’d see him again— you both lived in a fairly small town after all.

Petty actions like drawing on the other’s homework turned into stealing each other’s lunches or setting some sort of prank at each other’s seats— whatever your ten-year-old brains could think of. Your screaming matches grew even worse and at one point, you both started throwing punches. The teachers always had to watch you during breaks because eventually, you’d be on top of each other and pulling at each other’s hair.

San had an advantage of course since he took taekwondo, you always ended up as the loser. But in retaliation, you managed to convince your mother to enroll you in some other martial art to protect yourself. And when you won your first little fistfight— you always made sure to lord it over him.

“Hah, you got beat by a little girl! Not so tough now huh potato-head?”

“Shut up horse-face!”

San saw your kindness and charisma towards others as an act. It was your own way of reeling others in to be on your side, gathering some sort of army to help you gang up against him. You on the other hand managed to convince yourself that his cute little dimples and selflessness for others was a facade, You couldn’t believe how many people he’s managed to fool or turn against you. And you’ve always hated him for that. You let it fester as you go through grade school and towards middle school. That hatred you harbored for him was always lit inside you.

Your parents and his were always apologizing to each other during parent-teacher meetings or school events, having to hold you back from jumping on one another. Your dad had given up on the whole thing so he was totally useless; that left you to run to your mother for comfort. Whatever the situation was, at the end of the day, she was always on your side.

“Things will blow over soon. But please, honey, try to stay out of trouble for me?”

So when she died in your junior year of high school, you couldn’t help but feel alone. Your dad had taken to smoking to cope with the loss, marrying a woman who was in love with alcohol while bringing her two hellish twin daughters with her into your home. Things grew miserable for you at home; your dad became a pathetic pushover, letting his new wife run the household. That made you angry— how could he get over your mother so easily? How could he let himself get walked over like that? How could he ignore the way your older step-sisters trampled all over you?

How could he let all this happen?

San’s endless taunting at school didn’t help either. His harmless pranks grew worse as time passed: spray-painting some nasty words on your locker, or setting a bucket of paint on top of the gym doors since you’re always the last one to head out. You’d heed your mother’s words, always doing your best to ignore him. For a while, it had worked and he pestered you less than usual but your mom’s death and the situation at home had triggered something in you, making you snap back. You’d shove his face down into his food during lunch or knock his books down the stairwell whenever you pass by each other. You had even managed to sneak some of the insects from the lab into his gym clothes, causing him to end up with nasty rashes all over his body for a week.

Your physical fights weren’t frequent but they became more violent, with one or both of you having to go to the nurses, holding an ice pack to your busted lips while a piece of gauze was stuck up his bloodied nose. It took several students or even teachers to pull you apart because most of the time no one wanted to jump in and separate you two; it was always so messy with fists and kicks flying everywhere. There was even one point where you both had to go to the hospital for fractured bones. You were both suspended for a week.

Fortunately, things had toned down now that you both were in your final year of high school with the pressure of college and meeting requirements looming over you. Although, neither of you managed to make up. You’d still exchange some foul words but the stupid pranks and fights had simmered down. That never meant you were on good terms though.

But then fate decided to be a little shit and put you in a situation you never thought you’d find yourself in.

Your new biology teacher didn’t seem to be informed about the decade-long feud between you and San. So when she assigned the both of you as partners, you felt your heart drop to your stomach as a sick feeling crawled over you. You wanted to cry and throw up at the same time- that’s just how much you despised him. You both tried to plead with her to change partners but she was as stubborn as a mule, insisting that you two can “sort out your differences” and finish this project as a team.

And now here you were, avoiding each other’s stares despite being sat next to each other. The proximity between you two was suffocating, it made it hard to focus on the project being explained to you by your cruel teacher. Your skin tingles unpleasantly whenever either of you shifted in your seat, your arms just several centimeters away from touching each other. Many thoughts ran through your head on how you can get out of this. But you knew that you had to find some time to work on the damn thing together or else you’d flunk high school— and being stuck in community college, never being able to leave this town, was not worth hitting San at the back of the head and gloating at him.

“You have the rest of the period to plan with each other. Make sure to have your presentation set and ready for next week.” Your teacher says and sits at her desk.

The room was filled with chatter as the students started conversing with each other. Many pairs threw knowing stares at you, worried that you’d be at each other’s throats. Surprisingly you weren’t… at least not yet anyway.

For a while, neither of you said anything to each other. San simply scrolled through his phone hidden under his desk while you organized your final notes. Minutes tick by and the class slowly comes to an end. With a heavy sigh, you decided to swallow your pride and talk to the guy.

You turn to the boy, roughly shoving his knee with yours and he sends you an irritated glare. “C’mon we need to plan for this.” You deadpan, ignoring the look he gave you.

San returned the sigh and pocketed his phone, shifting to face you. “Alright then. So what’s the plan?”

“That’s what we’re supposed to be talking about, dumbass.” You mutter, growing irritated. You clench your fists together in an attempt to keep your calm before continuing. “Anyway, we’re supposed to make some model of the nerve cells then present it.”

San stays quiet for a moment before speaking up. “My sister has some spare clay and wires from her sculpting hobby. I could ask for some.”

“Great. You work on that while I work on the script.” You conclude before going back to your notes.

“Hold on- you’re gonna leave me with all of the hard work?”

“We have the same workload?? I’m making the script.”

“That’s easy- scripts can be finished within a day or something.” San shot back, finding the arrangement you had set, without his consultation by the way, as unfair.

“Then I’ll help you when I’m done. Quit whining like a bitch.” You sigh, having no energy to continue the argument with him.

“Asshat…” He mumbles under his breath, pulling out his phone to text his sister. He expected some sort of retaliation from you but you simply remained quiet. That was odd- considering that you never missed the chance to have the last word in. Maybe you just weren’t feeling it today.

Nevertheless, he ignored you, deciding that it wasn’t worth pestering you at the moment. The bell rings, signaling the end of the class, and you’re immediately up and out of your seat, stuffing your notebook into your bag and swinging it over your shoulder. It almost hits San’s cheek in the process but you were already walking out the door before he could call you out on it.

“Geez…” He huffs and keeps his own things, glaring after you while hoping that time would fly by fast so that the project was done and over with.

~~

A few days have passed by since the biology class. True enough, you’ve finished writing and even printing the script within the day the project was assigned to you. So now you were stuck helping out San with sculpting the whole model. You two would work together at the back of the library after school. Initially the librarian was hesitant about letting the two of you inside given your reputation and all. But when she saw that neither of you were at each other’s throats, surprisingly, she allowed for you to work on it in the library.

Of course you and San still had some disputes— how it’s supposed to be positioned, what shape it’s supposed to take, yadda yadda. But it had never escalated into a full blown argument because it always ended up with you taking the blow of his harsh words. That alone started to concern the boy, you’d always get back at him. But your resigned silence after every quip he threw at you started to worry him. Sure he hated your guts but San wasn’t a nasty person. He knew something was bothering you. But, he never took the initiative to ask what was bothering you; it wasn’t his problem anyway.

~~

A weekend away from Monday aka the day of your presentation. The model was almost done— it just needed a paint job. Since it was a Saturday afternoon, meaning the school was closed, neither of you were able to work at your usual spot. So San decided to just take the whole thing to your home to finish it. Of course he could finish the whole thing himself but he had a party to attend later in the evening, and he didn’t want to miss out on it.

He arrives at your home, model in one hand and a crate of paints in the other. He takes note of the absence of your dad’s and step-sister’s cars in the driveway and assumed that you were all out. He sighs in frustration, hoping that that wasn’t the case. Jogging up to the porch, the boy sets down the crate and rings the doorbell a couple of times, foot tapping against the wooden floorboards as he waits.

When there was no response after a few minutes he tried again, this time ringing the doorbell a bit more frantically. Before he could turn around and head back home after getting no response, he hears frantic footsteps scurrying inside and steps back as the door swings open. There you were, hair looking like a bird’s nest while your week-old cardigan hung off your shoulders. There were dark circles under your eyes and you looked like a hobo who had the opportunity to clean after themselves. In other words: you were a mess.

“The fuck are you doing here?” You snap the minute your hazy mind registers that San was standing at your door.

The said boy snaps out of his own trance and shoves the model in your face. “We need to finish this.”

You stare at the figure in his hand then to the crate by his foot and then to his face that displayed an expectant expression. You sigh and rub your face. “Couldn’t you have finished it yourself?”

“I’m busy later.”

Another sigh leaves you and you step back to let him in. He enters the house, leaving his shoes by the door as he looks around the place. It was a bit messier than he had expected. There were rumpled coats hanging off of the arm of the couch, a small pack of cigarettes and a few bottles of cheap beer on the coffee table. The wallpaper was starting to fade with a few faint stains here and there.

San stays quiet as he follows you through the house, seeing the small stack of dishes waiting to be washed in the sink. He turns back to look at you, finding your silence as unnerving. You only trudged up the stairs, motioning for you to follow him. He expected to see you turn down the hallway and enter one of the rooms but was quite surprised to see you stop by a frayed rope hanging from the ceiling of the hall. You reach up and tug down on it, revealing the ladder towards the attic.

“Don’t tell me you live up there,” San jabs.

“Yeah and what of it?” You grumble, sending him a tired glare over your shoulder before climbing up the ladder.

He was stunned into silence when he realized that you were serious. He bites his tongue and refrains from jeering at you, handing the box of paints to you before climbing up. Several thoughts ran through his mind— why was your room in an attic? And since when did you start smoking and drinking? Was it even yours?

His head pokes into the surprisingly clean but small room. Your bed was pressed up near the slanted wall of the roof, several polaroids of you, your few friends, and your mother plastered along it. On the opposite side was your desk and your wardrobe whose paint was starting to chip off. Several boxes, labeled and not labeled, were pushed to the corner of the room, stacked in a way for them to take up less space.

San looks to you rummaging through your desk, probably finding a brush or something. He wordlessly steps into the room and pulls the rope, closing the trapdoor beneath him. He turns to you again and before he could stop himself, he found himself blurting the question that was plaguing his mind: “What the hell happened to you?”

You turn on your heel, almost knocking over the picture frame of you and your mom. Your hand reached out to steady it before answering San. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.”

“Why do you live up here?” He motioned to the whole attic space with his arm. “Don’t you have a room downstairs?”

“I do.” You simply say and take the crate of paints, pulling out the needed colors and some paper cups for you to place them in.

When you don’t elaborate, San squats down to your level on the ground and tugs the purple paint tube out your hand. “What happened to it?”

“Why do you care?” You snatch the tube back with a hiss, preparing all the things needed. “It’s none of your business…”

The boy sighs, running a hand through his dark locks. He nibbles at his cheeks, carefully going over what he wanted to say. “...look, _____,” he starts, voice surprisingly gentle. “You don’t have to tell me everything but you don’t have to keep everything in.”

You don’t answer him or make any move to acknowledge what he had said. But you were listening; part of you decided to take down your walls for just a moment and hear what he has to say. And San seemed to sense this because he continues.

“I’m not gonna say that ‘I’m here for you’ and all that crap but, there are people who're willing to listen to you. Whatever you’re going through right now, no matter how big or small it is, you don’t have to go through it alone.”

Again, you don’t respond. A moment of silence full of high strung tension passed by. It was only a few seconds but it felt longer than that— especially since you both stopped in what you were doing and stared at the ground or at each other’s hands.

You always hated San but you couldn’t help but sense the sincerity in his words. It’s kind of pathetic but at the moment, his genuinity, the softness of the way he spoke was what you were craving for. At that moment, you just wanted assurance that things will be okay and that whatever you were doing in life wasn’t useless. And the guy you seemed to hate most was offering you that.

Tears prick at your eyes and you hastily brush it away with the sleeve of your cardigan, refusing to show any weakness to your nemesis. But it was hard; once the tears started flowing it was difficult for you to stop. You play it off by finishing up in preparing the paints, suppressing any hiccups or sobs that would escape before eventually giving up and bringing your legs up to your chin, crying into your sweats. Fuck it if San sees.

You curled up into yourself, crying into your pants when you felt a gentle but hesitant hand on your shoulder. You jolt at the touch, seeing San back away quickly. His brows were furrowed in concern and his lips were pursed, almost as if he were thinking about what he was going to say.

“G-go on, gloat,” You hiccup, choking on your tears. “I look like a m-mess anyway…”

You were surprised, and a little bit embarrassed, that he didn’t follow with what you said. Instead, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small packet of tissues and handing it over to you. He looked up to your desk, seeing your water container on your desk. He stands up to take it, shaking it to check if there was still some water in it, before placing it by your foot.

“I’m not going to lie, you are a mess,” San says before returning to his previous spot on the floor. “But I guess that’s normal when you’re having a shitty day.”

“More like a shitty life…” You mumble. You chug down the rest of your water, managing to stop your tears as you wipe them away with the tissues. You look up at the boy across you and sigh heavily. “It’s my step-mom,” you say.

“I’m sorry?”

“My step-mom. She made me move up here so that her daughters could take my room.” You explain. “My dad didn’t say anything because he’s a pushover, wasting his life away on cigarettes and the alcohol his wife buys…”

San nods slowly in understanding, finally making sense of what he saw in the living room and kitchen. That explained a lot of things: why you would always faintly smell of alcohol or nicotine a few months after your mother had died. It had honestly shocked him to hear that— your dad and step-mom always looked presentable in public. Your step-sisters were a bit more extravagant but neat nonetheless. The way they talked and carried themselves didn’t seem to indicate that they had any substance addiction.

Thinking back on it, it had also explained why you were so irate and moody almost all the time, leading to you losing some friends in high school as you fell back into yourself or into violence. It was a defense mechanism— you didn’t want to seem vulnerable because at home, you were vulnerable enough.

An idea pops into his head and he promptly stands up, momentarily making you jump from his sudden movement. You look up at him, puzzled. “What?”

“Come with me.”

“What???”

“I said get up and come with me.” San says and actually held his hand out to you.

You look at it skeptically before looking up at him, contemplating about any consequences in following him— if there were any. He wiggles his fingers, impatiently coaxing you to join him and you finally make up your mind. Might as well follow him; you had nothing to lose anyway.

You swat his hand away to get up on your own, mumbling something along the lines that you could get up yourself before straightening yourself out and placing your hands on your hips. He gives a satisfied nod and grabs his shoes to put them on. He then kicks open the trapdoor before heading back down for you to follow.

He returns to the living room with you trailing behind, still wondering where exactly he wanted you to go. When you glance at the clock you see that it’s already 5:30 in the afternoon. Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt something land by your feet. You whipped your head around to see San pointing at your shoes which he probably threw at you from the door.

“We’re heading out for a while.” He says as he exits your house. You take a moment to process what was happening when he pops his head in. “Come on slowpoke.” He ushers you.

You hastily throw on your shoes, grabbing the house keys hanging by the coat rack, and hop out of the house. You lock the door behind you and approach San who was sitting upon his notoriously loud motorbike. “Where are we going?” You ask, settling down behind him.

Your arms awkwardly flutter beside you, opting to hold onto whatever space was left on your seat. You jump in surprise when you hear and feel the engine roar to life, eliciting an amused chuckle from the boy in front of you. You glare at the back of his head, smacking his shoulder and settling yourself once more.

“Hold on tight,” San tells you as he revs up the motorbike.

“I am.” You argue and strengthen your grip on the seat, shaking the bike a little to emphasize your point.

“No you aren’t.” You feel heat rise to your face when he tutted in annoyance, taking your arms and placing them around his waist. “There you go. See? No harm done.”

You only grumble something in response, making him chuckle to himself. It was a bit strange to see you tame like this. Sure it kind of boosted his ego considering that he managed to make you flustered with just a few words and a simple action but he actually kind of liked it when you weren’t at each other’s throats. He revved up the engine again before taking off and speeding down the road.

The evening breeze is cool as it whips through your hair and brushes against you, sending small goosebumps running down your skin. A small yelp escapes you when San picks up speed, causing your grip on him to tighten. He glanced back at you for a moment before taking the turn that exits the town and towards the road uphill. It led to the small forest that overlooked the city; it was a popular place in town for hiking or camping. You remember going there to play as a kid.

The air gets chillier as you both reach a higher altitude. You unconsciously nuzzle closer to the boy in front of you in an attempt to seek some body heat. The sky grows darker, turning into a deeper blue shade as the night slowly creeps upon the town. Some stars start to peek and settle themselves in the dark blanket of the sky by the time San slows down to a stop. He had stopped by the edge of the forest, a metal railing along the opposite end to keep people or vehicles from falling off the edge.

“We’re here.” San says and looks back at you. “You can let go if you want now.”

At that, you peel yourself away from him and hop off his bike mumbling something about how cocky he was while walking over to the railings. He joins you soon after, keeping a respectable distance from you. None of you say anything at first, simply taking in the view of the city in front of you. Now know why San took you out here: to breathe and clear your mind of things; something that you didn’t know you needed at the moment.

The spot you were in allowed you to overlook the town, seeing the lights from the roads and houses down below. You could spot the water tower in the distance along with the radio tower next to it. As you survey the scene before you, you make out one house in the distance with a multitude of colored lights flashing around it.

“Looks like someone’s having a party.” You muse, finally breaking the silence.

San hums in acknowledgement. “I hope they aren’t missing me.”

It takes a moment for you to understand what he said, perking up when it made sense to you. “So that’s what you meant when you were ‘busy.’” You say as you lightly punch his arm. “You’re such an ass.”

“What? I wasn’t lying; I would’ve been busy.” He defends himself, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Yeah,” You huff. “Busy shoving your tongue down people’s throats.”

A mischievous hum. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Ew no, gross- I’ll pass.”

You share a small laugh together before settling into silence again. It was… kind of cathartic, being able to actually laugh for a long while-even if it was with your longtime nemesis. It was better than crying yourself to sleep almost every night.

You turn to lean your back against the railing, using your arms to support you as you mull over the forest.

“I used to come here a lot as a kid.” You say, managing to capture San’s attention. “Pretended to gallop along the trees like some sort of princess when I was in my horse phase… I would always come home with scraped knees. I was a clumsy kid.”

“Except when you’d throw punches at me,” San interjected, ghosting a hand over his jaw. “You sure knew how to pack a punch.”

You smile apologetically, a sheepish flush on your cheeks, and look over to him. “Well you did deliver some pretty good kicks- I needed to learn how to defend myself.”

San shrugged in agreement. “I guess,” He muses and offers you a small smile, lapsing into silence again. “You know… it’s actually kind of surprising but you aren’t so bad to talk to.”

You nibble at your lower lip at his confession, unsure of what to make of it. When you look up at him, you see that he had inched a little closer to you. He still kept a reasonable amount of space between you two but it was apparent that he wanted to get closer. He drums his fingers against the cool metal of the railing, brows furrowed as he thinks over his next words carefully.

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out. “I’m sorry for all the times I’ve been an asshole to you. I know that I’ve hurt you, not just physically, but emotionally too. And I want to apologize for that… I know, words are just words. It won’t do anything to reverse or take back what I’ve done to you then, but please, take it as a first step to making it up to you.”

San decided to meet your watery gaze, his chest clenching at the tears you were trying so hard to hold back. He holds his hand out instinctively, wanting to offer some sort of physical comfort. He stops himself midway, opting to just settle it on the rail halfway from you. “You don’t have to make a decision right here and now. You can still hate me all you want, but I promise to leave you alone from now on.”

You whimper pathetically, finally letting the tears flow down your cheeks. You felt guilt consume you at his apology. Why was he taking the blame for everything? It should be you who was saying sorry. After all,you were just as cruel as him. And thinking back on it, this feud had most likely started with you. You raise a sweater paw to wipe at your tears, sobbing into your hand.

God you were a mess.

“Don’t, don’t blame yourself… I should be apologizing too. It takes two to tango right?” You hiccup, managing to give him a shaky smile. “I could’ve chosen to ignore you or direct my anger elsewhere but I still ended up targeting you at the end of the day…”

“_______, it’s okay—“

“No it’s not.” You hiss. “I’m not just talking about what I did in high school. I’m talking about every instance I was cruel to you. It was petty, extremely childish, and just horrible overall. I don’t expect you to forgive me but I want to apologize too. I’ve made part of your life a living hell.”

You glance at his hand on the railing before holding your own out towards him. “Truce?” You offer. “We don’t have to be all buddy-buddy after this but at least we can just end this whole thing.”

San gripped your hand in a gentle but firm handshake. “Truce.” His touch lingered for

just a second before he gave a gentle squeeze and pulled away. He returned it to the previous spot on the railing.

The both of you remain for a while, just overlooking the town and reflecting on what had happened. The quiet atmosphere that you both shared suddenly didn’t seem so awkward anymore. Instead, it was filled with some tension but with a bit of comfort at the same time. It was similar to the feeling of a thorn being plucked out of your side: painful but relief that it was finally out.

You don’t expect that things would go right at once— this wasn’t like the movies or the books where everything was magically solved. You both had left some scars on each other, some that are too hard to forget or too deep to heal easily. But you two were working on it: healing and forgiving each other. It was still a long journey but it was something you were both willing to go on together.

You glance to San, seeing how relaxed he was right now. He didn’t look so annoying or so terrifying anymore. A tiny grin makes its way to your lips; never in a million years did you think you’d find solace in someone you despised so much.

“Hey San,” You call out to him, resting your hand beside his, your pinkies brushing against each other. “...thanks for this. I really needed it.”

He smiles at you, flashing his cute dimples at you. It sends a warm, tingly feeling down your spine and you couldn’t help but feel calm at that. “Glad I could help.” He momentarily pat the back of your hand, engulfing it with his larger one when you didn’t pull away.

It was late when he drove you home to finish the project. Unsurprisingly, your family was still out, probably at an event they forgot to tell you about. But you didn’t mind, you had an unexpected friend with you right now.

You smile to yourself as you wave goodbye to San from the doorway, seeing him speed down the road and into the night. He may have been the bad guy in your life but it turns out, he wasn’t such a bad guy. And you were thankful that you were able to see that because at least you knew you had someone in your corner.

#ficscafe #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez angst #ateez choi san #choi san x reader #ateez san #ateez headcanons

[justreadingfics]

It’s a Deal (Chapter 10)

Chapter Summary: What a day.  

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 7.1k

Warnings: mild angst, fluff, confrontation, mention to past relationships that might’ve been a bit toxic, crying, laughing.

A/N: I know, I’m not a fast updater! Thank you all for the patience, and I hope you guys like this chapter. I feel like a should warn you about the level of angst that might be below your expectations, this is me trying to write a romantic comedy, guys, bear with me, lol! Thank you to my sweet Les for always having my back. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated.

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 “Will you marry me?”

Those words replay in your head while your limbs go slack. Eddie kneels before you, diamond ring in hands and an expectant look on his face.  You just stare at him, unsure of what to say or even what to feel among the huddle of sensations inside you… until one of them suppresses the others and your parted lips shut right before your jaw clenches. Anger.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Eddie?”

Completely taken aback by your snap, the man before you flinches and his shoulders drop while the little box shuts when his hand does.

“I-I…” he tries.

“No,” you cut him off, “Seriously,” you swiftly get up from the sofa, and he follows, “You broke up with me after one year or so without properly touching me or even talking to me,” you scoff, shaking your head, “And now you come here and fucking propose after months apart? Fucking propose, Eddie?” You repeat yourself, narrowing your eyes at him, “What the hell are you even thinking? That I would swoon and run to your arms just like that?” You snap your fingers, “That I was here just waiting for this moment?”

The man seems completely startled and lost in front of you, but in your outrage, you don’t find in you to care one bit, “I know I messed up,” he finally speaks, “I know it’s all my fault, I was lost, but this?” he lifts the little box, “This is it, I’m not lost anymore.”

You sigh, running your hand over your face, you put on a calmer voice as the anger guiding your actions and words so far starts subduing, “Listen, I was crushed when you broke up with me, I should’ve seen it coming, maybe I should’ve tried harder when I noticed the distance between us-”

“That’s not true, baby -”

“Eddie,” you raise a hand to interrupt him, “Let’s try to be honest to each other here for once. If there’s something I’ve learned is that we can never do wrong by being honest.”

There’s a crease between his eyebrows as he takes in your words until he breathes in and nods.

“We weren’t ok by the end of our relationship, this time apart made me see that much clearly now. I may have turned a blind eye to it all, but that’s the truth. We weren’t communicating, we were just going with the flow, and that’s on us. Both of us.” Your lips tighten and he keeps his attention on you, “But now…Maybe you didn’t notice or maybe you’re the one turning a blind eye for it now, but don’t you see the timing for this proposal is, in the least, a little off?”

“What? Why?” He tilts his face while the crease on his forehead deepens.

You let out a breath and walk to the sofa. He follows you and you both sit down again. A true and honest conversation with Eddie has been long overdue and you don’t think it’s time to keep postponing it, “We are broken up for months and you’re proposing to me not even two whole days after seeing me close to someone else… after trying to hook up with a woman you’d been flirting and not being able to go through…”

The bone on his throat bobs as he gulps and looks down to his lap.

“You may say this was enough to make you see you were wrong about the breakup and for distancing yourself, but this can’t be enough for a decision like that.” You nod towards the little box in his hand, “Those four months maybe haven’t been what you expected to be for you…And to be honest, they weren’t exactly what I expected to be for me, either,” you falter, but keep your head straight.

His head snaps back towards you and he just observes you for a brief moment, like he’s reading you anew, “What do you mean?” he asks quietly. 

You’re not sure what you should answer to that when not even you have a clear understanding of what this time apart really meant for you. Your lips tighten before you speak, “You keep saying I’ve changed, maybe I did, I don’t know.” You shrug. “All I know is that I can’t accept your proposal. For the sake of us, Eddie. We can’t right the wrongs of our relationship just jumping to that,” you add, hoping that he would understand you.

His head drops and he takes in a shuddering breath, making your heart heavy. Your hands turn into nervous fists on your lap. He is important to you, there’s no way to deny that. Weeks ago it’s possible you wouldn’t even think twice or even consider the problems in your relationship before accepting the proposal with all your heart. But now, like you said, something has changed, something that made you realize all the problems in the path you two drove your relationship to.

Not to say that, in the deepest of your mind, there’s a chanting of another man’s name, a quiet but persistent echo. Still, you keep it aside for later deliberation. Now you focus on Eddie, the man you planned to spend a life with and who is before you, offering you to do just that and hearing a rejection from you.

His eyes close before he looks back at you, “Ok,” he nods, “I’m not saying I agree with all of that, but I accept your decision,” he sighs and you give him a small smile, “This is yours, though.” He takes your hands and puts the little box in it, shutting it so you can hold it.

Your mouth falls open while your eyes rounds, “Eddie, no, I can’t-”

“Please,” he urges, dragging himself closer to you, “This is yours. It doesn’t change by the fact you said no. Regardless if we stay together or not, I want you to have it, please,” he pleads, keeping his hand around yours, squeezing the little box tight in your hold.  

The abandonment etched on his face is what makes you swallow dry and give him a small nod while your chest heavies, “Ok,” you whisper, “But- but it doesn’t change anything, Eddie,” you make sure to add. 

He smiles a breathy smile and withdraws his hand from yours, letting you keep the box while you pull your hand, “I know, it’s ok… Can I ask you one more thing, though?”

“Alright,” you agree.

“You said you don’t wanna jump to marriage, that it can’t right the wrongs of our relationship. But…is there a chance for us at something in the middle? I mean, is there a chance for us to work things out?”

Your eyebrows dart high on your forehead. The question causes a cold pinch in your stomach. You think about all the time you spent together, all the hopes and dreams, the struggles, the good and the bad… Right now, if you dig into yourself and your feelings, he may not feel like the obvious choice for you, but there was a time, not so long ago, that he was and it felt right. You have to respect that, don’t you?

“Listen Eddie,” you speak softly, after clearing your throat, “Maybe we can start by seeing each other more frequently?” Your forehead scrunches after you present your offer, not sure how he’s going to take that. “We can keep talking, not holding back on things we have to say to each other, being honest… We can try to be friends for now, or something like that? And then we see how it all goes?”

“Friends?” Eddie snickers, “We were never friends.” He lets out a skeptical snort.

You shrug, “We can try… I don’t know… All I know is I’m not ready for more now and I need some time to put my thoughts together, and I think you need that, too.”

After just looking at you for a second, he puts on a small smile and covers your hand with his, “Alright. All the time you need. But now, just… let me…”

You watch when he leans over and moves his lips close to yours. After placing a hand on the nape of your neck, he waits for a reaction of some sort, but when you offer none and just stares at him, he kisses you.

Your eyes shut after a few seconds. It feels weird and familiar at the same time if that even makes sense. There’s a longing behind the gesture, a longing that makes your heart beat a bit faster… An urge grows in you, a tingle, a crucial need to...

Pulling away, you quickly turn your face to the other side before covering your mouth with you forearm and setting free the sneeze that was bubbling inside you.  

You sniff and, with a frown, turn to a comically taken aback Eddie, “Alright, if we’re going to be around and honest with each other from now on, I’m sorry but you’ll have to get rid of that damn perfume.”

“Really? But you loved that perfume.”

Your lips form a thin line and you raise an eyebrow.

Realization dawns on his face, “Oh…I guess you didn’t.”

~~~

After promising you the perfume wouldn’t be a problem anymore, Eddie leaves with the compromise of calling you for a coffee soon. You realize you two never really talked about the condo and you wonder if that has anything to do with him being sure you two would end up together again.

If that’s the case, you’re definitely not as sure as he is. And it’s an odd feeling, not being sure about Eddie anymore. Even when things were bad, you were always sure about him.

Finding yourself alone again, you drop your body on your couch. You’re damn exhausted. Tilting your head to the side, your gaze meets the little box over the center table. You reach for it and open the lid. Without the adrenaline from before, you take your time to observe it.

You take in the thin straight white gold band that leads to the halo which holds the round and small brilliant cut diamond. You smile as you can tell he was thinking of you when he picked that ring. It’s simple and beautiful, something that wouldn’t attract much attention to your hand, like most of your jewelry.

Eddie has never been that great with making conversation or opening up with you- and maybe a few other actions - but he always knew exactly what to gift you. He has always been thoughtful with your taste and personality.

Without thinking much, you put on the ring. You sprawl your hand before you and have to acknowledge that it fits perfect. You wonder how much it would make you feel special not much time ago…

Letting out a groan, you drop the little box on the floor in favor to reach for your phone in your jeans’ pocket. Your thumb hovers the name that’s been nagging at the back of your mind this whole time. Without giving yourself much time to think, you press on the name.

Bucky “Soft Tongue” Barnes.  

A little smile curls your lips. You really need to change that.

The ringing tone resounds in your ear as your breathing quickens. Why just the mere thought of talking to Bucky is making you so damn nervous? You wait… and wait. When it goes to the voicemail, you quickly hang up.

That’s the very first time Bucky doesn’t pick up when you call. The small frown between your eyebrows softens at the thought that he’s probably sleeping. It’s Sunday after all.

You huff while you hold your phone against your chest with one hand and digs your fingers into your hair with the other. You stare at the white ceiling above you… Shit… what the hell are you even doing. Calling Bucky right after being proposed by Eddie? And why in the world does your mind keep insisting on the thought of Bucky and you feel the need to talk all about that morning with him, to listen to whatever opinion he might have on that, or anything else he might have to say?

And why does your heart jump so funny when you remember his face… that stupid perfect face… and his smile…

Fuck…

That probably has something to do with the last couple of days you spent with him. First, he was your rock at your party, making it easier for you to have fun, and then taking care of your drunk ass. Then the next day at Brooklyn… and the night after that. It did feel different… maybe more intimate...

But it’s just an impression... The man has always made himself crystal clear – which, by the way, so did you - that what you had was sex, incredible and mind-blowing, of course, but just sex. He has never wanted anything other than that, and you’re definitely sure Bucky Barnes isn’t cut out for what comes in a relationship beyond the sex.

Shifting your gaze to the ring on your finger as you still hold your phone against you, your relationship with Eddie comes to your mind, how you always did everything together, the decisions regarding life, work and everything else were taken together, the dreams and growth, the stability and familiarity…You also think about the arguments… the silence and distance, the loss of the spark and the excitement of being together, the times you ended up erasing your likes and dislikes to avoid confrontation…

With a will of its own, your mind then navigates to Bucky again and what you had together this last month. You can’t imagine him, in all his glorious bachelor lifestyle, engaging in a relationship like that, with all the strings and emotional weight that surely come with it and, by your experience, ends up killing all the fun. Do you still want a relationship like that, though? Of course there’s its positive side, but what about all the negatives that stubbornly resist any relationship?

Also… seriously? Bucky’s the first man who’s nice to you after your break-up… The second you’ve had sex with. Ever. You can’t be so pathetic to the point of having a no strings attached relationship with a guy and start thinking, because he’s nice and kind to you, because you suddenly feel like you shared a special weekend with him, that it could lead to something different than that.  

You groan as it frustrates you to no end the thought that you’re so weak that maybe you can’t be your own person and perhaps need to always be engaged in some kind of relationship or emotionally attached to someone, no matter if you know them for ten years or a month.

If Bucky were there, he would probably say the right thing, about how you’re overthinking all of it and you’re just a couple of rabbits fucking majestically and enjoying each other’s company. He would also say that you two were too smart to trade that for something as boring and dull as love. A loose smile twitches your lips.  

You don’t need to fall for him just because you’re having sex… Just because he’s the most handsome and sexy man you’ve ever seen… Because he’s amazing in bed, respectful, kind, smart, funny, strong, thoughtful…

Jesus…

Immersed in your conflicting feelings and thoughts of Bucky, of Eddie, of yourself… you have no idea of when you end up falling asleep on your couch, but the ding of your doorbell wakes you up in a startle, you squint and brush your hand over your face before reaching for your phone that has fallen over the carpet. Your eyes widen at the clock. You’ve been sleeping for a little more than a couple of hours. As the doorbell rings again, you spot five missed calls. All of them from Bucky. And after swiftly getting up and rushing to the door, that’s the man you find behind it.

“Hey-”

You don’t even let him start talking before pulling him in into a hug, circling your arms around his neck and nestling your head against him. You don’t even know why you’re doing this, but you love the warmth of him wrapping you up, and you love that he holds you back immediately, without questions or further talking.

You let out a deep sigh, before leaning away and smiling at him, which he mimics.

“Hi,” you say.

“Hi,” he says back, gazing at you with a distinguish softness in his eyes and a small but beautiful smile on his lips. “I saw your missed call, I tried to call you back a few times and when you didn’t answer I thought maybe I should drop by,” he says.

“Good,” you breathe and turn, taking his hand and guiding him inside as he shuts the door with his foot behind him.

He pulls your hand, making you stop on your track and face him again. The softness from before gives place to a nervous little frown on his face, “I- I need to talk to you -”   

”Eddie proposed to me.” You don’t know if it’s the little tremble on his voice, his very presence, or the fact that they were choking in your throat, but the information spills from your mouth unannounced.  

The words catch on Bucky’s throat as he inhales sharply. He takes a step back at the same time his rounded eyes drop to your hand, which is still laced on his. The blood seems to vanish from his face.

You follow his stare and that’s when your eyes ball out because you realize you’re still wearing the ring. Acting by impulse, you take your hand away from his and move to pull the ring off your finger, “I-I didn’t say yes,” you quickly clarify, but the damn ring doesn’t budge even with your harsh attempts of taking it off and a desperate feeling lodges at the pit of your stomach because goddammit it had fit perfectly moments ago. You groan in sheer frustration, looking down and pulling even more forcefully, “I was just trying it on-I-“.

Gentle hands cover yours. Your mouth snaps shut and your hasty ministrations halts. You look up and take in the sight of his eyes on you. They are softer now and it calms you down, just like the light massaging circles he draws on your skin. A caress. While you keep your eyes on each other, he twirls the ring, which now moves with ease, and ever so slowly, he pulls it through the length of your finger, till it’s completely off of you.

Holding it with his thumb and index finger, he observes the shiny little jewel between the two of you, his expression unreadable, before he offers it back to you.    

Like waking up from a daze, you’re quick to accept it and place it on the center table at your side.

“I told him this wasn’t the time to think about that...” you say, your voice coming out timid as you fidget with your fingers.

Bucky remains quiet, putting his hands in his pockets, that same unreadable expression still on his face. He nods, though, for you to continue, “We talked a lot. He asked if we still had a chance and I said we should start off by seeing each other more, like friends or something like that, and then see what happens.” You purse your lips.

“Oh…” he mumbles. 

You wait for him to say anything else, but he doesn’t. He just seems lost for speech and that’s news for you.

“It was a hectic morning,” you let out a nervous little laugh, “I called you because I kind of wanted to talk to you… I mean…What do you think?” You bite your cheek.

“Of what?” He blinks.

“All of that… The proposal, my answer…” your voice fails.

Bucky clears his throat before he nods, “Well… what more did he tell you exactly?”

You then pull him to sit on the sofa with you and you tell him everything Eddie had said right there on that same sofa, trying hard to not let any detail out. For some reason knowing what Bucky would have to say about that is all that matters to you right now.  

“Hold on.” Bucky holds up both his hands as a crease appears between his eyebrows, “Are you telling me he decided to break up with you without even trying to work things out, really talk to you about whatever shitty crises he was going through and then comes here after four months of radio silence, right after seeing you close to me and after he tried to hook up with someone else?” He scoffs, shaking his head before getting up, turning his back to you.

You watch, still on your seat, as he runs a hand over his face, before you get up and puts a hand on his back, you’ve never seen him that agitated, “Bucky…”

He swiftly turns to you, gesticulating with his arms and hands as he speaks, “Sounds like this guy’s single life wasn’t exactly what he thought it would be and the moment he realized maybe it was going a lot nicer for you, he decides he better jump in again, that he’s ready and shit? Sounds like he still doesn’t know what he really wants and is taking a shot at you like some impulsive and jealous asshole. Fuck this guy,” he spits as his cheeks flush red.

His reaction takes you off course for a bit. He’s been always honest and straightforward with you, but you didn’t expect such an emotion outrage from him. You talked about Eddie many times with him and it was never like that, “I-I… yeah, I know, Bucky. I’m not blind to that, which is what I told him after he proposed.”

“And yet, you’re talking about starting to see him again,” he states and if he wanted to sound like an accusation you didn’t know, but it sure sounds like it. 

“Bucky, it’s ten years,” you argue, not sure why this seems to be escalating to, not a fight, but at least a heated debate, “I can’t just erase this time and what it meant to me. That’s a great part of my whole adult life. We lived together, did everything together. I loved him. You have no idea what it’s like to have a relationship like that.” 

His jaw clenches, before he gives his back to you. His head drops and he puts his hands on both sides of his waist.

You shift on your feet, wondering whether you have maybe crossed a line there. This kind of heat up interaction with Bucky is news and completely strange to you. But when you’re about to say something, you hear the low groan that come out of his mouth.

“A man who won’t even eat your pussy...” he shakes his head, utter exasperation on his voice.

Your jaw drops before a small gasp slips through your lips. You don’t take it as an offense or anything like that, because when he said it, it wasn’t in an accusing tone like before, let alone aggressive. It’s just like he’s genuinely confused by why you would have such consideration for a man who wouldn’t go down on you.

“Bucky,” you let out a breathy laugh, “What the hell is going on with you?” You tilt your head while he still has his back to you, “If I didn’t know you better I would say you were jealous.”

His head snaps up at your comment and he turns to face you. His lower lip is trapped between his teeth. There’s something of anguish on his eyes and the amusement in your face drops at his demeanor.

“That’s because I am,” he affirms, short of breath.

Your eyes widen for a second before you frown and your head shakes lightly with confusion, “What?”

“I’m jealous, ok? I’m jealous, that’s it.” His face reddens even harder as his voice raises and he gesticulates, indignation pouring out from him, “Your ex is a douche who didn’t appreciate what he had and now decides he can come here and fuck up with what we have?”

A shocked breath comes out of your lips, “What we have? Bucky, you were the first one to be sure our deal wouldn’t be exclusive, and that was fine by me. I talked about Eddie with you countless times and it was fine, I don’t get why you’re saying and acting like that now.”

“Yeah, I know all of that, but things change, I guess…shit.” He curses and covers his eyes with both hands and takes a few breaths before looking at you again, “I didn’t want to tell you like that,” he says in a softer way right before he clenches his teeth again, “But that jerk had to come here first…”

“Didn’t want to tell me what exactly, Bucky?” you question.

He looks at you for a second, the agitation slowly leaving his features before he walks over you and takes you by the hand to guide you to sit on the sofa again, “Listen,” he says, as you sit beside him, intently listening to him, “It’s been some time I’ve been feeling kind of weird towards you. Us, I mean.” He gulps, “A kind of feeling that confused the hell out of me for quite some time.”

“Ok…” Your heart races in your chest, but you still have no idea where this is going, so you decide to not say anything else and let him talk so maybe you can get a better grasp on what the hell is going on.

“You know this morning, when you picked up Eddie’s phone and said he could come over?”

Your eyes move away from his for a second, since you’re not exactly proud of the fact that you did tell Eddie to come over when he was still there, but Bucky said it himself it was ok… clearly it was not.

“We had just had an amazing day and night together and I was even more confused when I got out of here,” he continues, ”I needed to check something, to fully understand what was happening, so I called Amanda.”

“Oh… really?” A piercing ache bites on your chest at the information. Are you the one who’s jealous now? “Were you with her when I called you? That’s why you didn’t pick up?” You ask, trying not to let your unexpected feeling show, but you’re not sure whether you’re succeeding or not.  

“Yeah,” he admits with a small nod.

The answer makes you flinch on your seat, “And you wanna talk to me about jealousy,” you scoff, crossing your arms in front of you, the annoyance slipping through your tone, “That’s really funny, Bucky, don’t you think?”

“But… I-I,” he seems lost for a moment, “Listen, I’m not gonna lie to you. I’ never have, not gonna start now. I called her with the idea of having sex with her, yeah. Ever since I met you I hadn’t slept with anyone else and I thought that maybe that was the reason I was feeling so weird-“

“Wait…Really? You hadn’t been with anyone else?” You interrupt him, since the information piques your interest. Now that he mentions it, you have a vague memory of someone telling you that exact same thing at the party while you were too shitfaced to process the info. What an irony that the someone was precisely Amanda.  

“No, and I still haven’t because I couldn’t even get it up,” he discloses with pure exasperation.

“What?” You lift both your eyebrows, “You couldn’t get it up?” You practically squeal, “Is that… is that even possible?” You reach over his forehead to check his temperature, “Are you ok?”

Taking your hand in his, he lets out a chuckle, but there’s no humor behind it, “I called her because I thought that if I hooked up with someone else, maybe things would be clearer or whatever.  And they did.” He huffs, nodding down to his lower half, “The jerk down there decided to throw on my face something I think I’ve known for a while but had no idea what to make of it.”

He pauses and takes a few breathes, looking down as if he needs to gather some courage and you squeeze his hand, trying to provide him what he needs to keep talking. When he looks back at you, there’s a small reassuring smile on your face waiting for him and the next words he says bursts out from his lips.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Silence settles in the room. You still have your hand on his while he stares at you expectantly. You stare back at him. Something starts bubbling in your chest. It grows bigger and bigger till it runs up your throat and spurts from your lips in the form of a laugh. A big and hysterical one.  

You let go of his hand to lightly push him on his shoulder, “Oh my God, Bucky,” you say, as tears form in the corner of your eyes of how much you’re laughing, “Only you can come up with a story like that to make me laugh now.” You point at him, “You finding out you’re in love with me because of a limp-dick.” You laugh even harder.

It's when you move to tap on his shoulder again that you focus on his face to see the lack of amusement on it. He has a sad and almost embarrassed gaze fixed on you as his lips form a frown.

The laugh dies on your lips.

“Oh…” you breathe, while realization finally comes to you, “You’re not kidding.”

He gives you a tight-lip smile.

“Oh…” you say again, any other word vanishing from your mind as you shift and lean back on your seat, staring ahead and away from him. Bucky has just said he thinks he’s in love with you.

Bucky…

In love with you…

“I know this wasn’t the ideal way and time to tell you, I know,” he starts talking in a hurry beside you, but you keep staring ahead, unable to move from your position, as a whole new bubble starts taking form in your chest and throat, taking over your senses, “And I know you didn’t expect that from me, hell, I certainly wasn’t expect that myself, but it just happened and I was confused, but I’m not anymore, I know what I’m feeling and… Y/N?” he suddenly interrupts his rambling, “Are you… are you crying?”

You turn to him again and see the widening of his eyes when he catches the evidence for his suspicion, “Yes,” you cry out, as tears run down unbidden your cheeks, “Yes, I’m crying, I’m sorry,” you hide your face in your hands.

“No, no, no, no, sweetheart,” he reaches over you, desperation etched on his voice as he wraps your shaking shoulder in a tight hug, “Please don’t cry… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything…I don’t wanna see you like that. Please don’t cry.” His voice shakes, “Or I’m gonna cry, too.” And as if on cue, you hear the sniffles.

Burying your cheeks on his shirt, dampening the fabric with tears, you let yourself be hugged by him. And, just like that, you live the most pathetic scene of your life, two grown ass adults holding each other and sobbing like babies, without saying anything for God knows how many minutes.

You have no idea what has come over you, but hearing him saying that, right after being proposed by Eddie, after finding yourself with such conflicting thoughts and feelings, must have triggered something inside you.

When your shoulders stop shaking so much and the tears seem to give you two a truce, you lean away from him, “I’m sorry, Bucky,” you say, wiping the wetness from the corner of your eyes with your fingers, “This was ridiculous, God… I guess it’s been an intense day…” you take in a shuddering breath.

“No, no,” He swipes the back of his hand on his cheeks, brushing out the wetness from there, “I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m the one who’s sorry. Let’s forget all about it-”

“No,” you cut him off, “No, Bucky, it’s ok, I’m glad you told me,” you put some softness in your voice for the huge man who has just cried his eyeballs out with you, “But… Are you sure? I mean… it’s you.” Shrugging your shoulder, you gesture towards him with both your hands, “That’s not what you want, it’s against all of your life philosophy, your lifestyle.”

He chuckles and his gaze drops, before they’re on you again, “You know, I’ve never taken anyone else to that burger joint, I’ve never shown that picture to anyone and even less talked about my sisters… my mom... Then our night together, right here in your bedroom?” He points towards the room, “I’ve had tons, I mean, tons of sex my whole life, I don’t need to lie about that. But I never had a night like that with anyone else. That wasn’t just sex and I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”

You’re entranced by his words and you feel yourself shrinking under the intensity of his gaze on you, of the sentiment that sweeps into his voice. There’s not a bone in you that makes you contradict what he’s saying. It was a special night. Moments ago, you were still daydreaming about it.

“I know it sounds weird coming from me,” he breathes, “I know everything I said and even bragged about before is coming to bite me in the ass right now,” his jaw tightens, ”But I’m certain of what I’m feeling… I think about you all the damn time, sweetheart… I look at you and I wanna laugh and cry all at once,” he scoffs, gesturing towards his reddened eyes, and you can’t help but to let out a breathy smile. “I’m in love with you,” he bores his gaze on you. “Fuck whatever I ever wanted before. I want you now.”

You take in a deep breath, trying to breathe in the air his words knocked out of your lungs. You’re in a loss for words. In all the scenarios you pictured for this deal of Bucky and yours - which weren’t that many, since you jumped in with the mindset of seizing the moment with him – you’ve never seen that one happening: him coming over to tell you he’s fallen for you. As much as his confession sparks something inside you, that’s so unlike him, that you need to be the voice of reason there.

“Bucky…” you call softly, putting your other hand over the one that you’re already holding. You look down at it, before turning to him again, watching anxious blue eyes on yours,  “You said Eddie only decided to come here and propose after seeing me with you and after trying to hook up with someone else. As you said, it shows that he’s just being impulsive and might not know what he genuinely wants, right?”

“Yeah…” He nods after clearing his throat. Apparently, that’s not what he expected you to say after he poured his heart out for you, “Because that’s the truth, the guy doesn’t know what he really wants.” He shrugs.

You offer him a tight but kind smile, “Don’t you see the similarity here?”

His forehead creases at your question.

You keep a gentle gaze on him as you speak, “This morning you went out of here after Eddie called. You knew he was coming. Then, you tried hooking up with Amanda… That didn’t work out…” You shake your head, “Now you’re here, telling me you’re in love with me, after practically seeing me with someone else and trying to have sex with another woman and not being able to go through with it.”

You see realization dawning on his face, as he understands what you’re trying to say, “No… no, that’s different.” He swiftly shakes his head.

“How so?” You insist.

“I know what I’m feeling, Y/n.” He says with firmness in his voice, “I’ve been trying to understand these feelings for a while now. The situation may have pushed me further, but it’s not the cause of anything. I’m not acting by impulse, please believe me,” he begs.  

“I’m not saying you’re not feeling anything, Bucky,” you counter, “Our time together was so special,” you smile, “I’m not blind to that… and I think… I think I-I-“

Your mouth shuts and you bite your lower lip. You almost say that there’s a chance you’ve developed feelings for him, too. But you don’t really know what those feelings mean and what you really want. You don’t really know much about them, but it’s been just one day and one night that have made you notice those sentiments…  you don’t wanna lead him or even yourself on, based on feelings that have just shown up and you still have no idea where this is going.

Plus… there’s Eddie. The mere thought of him drops a weight over your shoulders.

“I-I’m confused, Bucky,” you say, instead of saying all of that, but that’s not a lie. Not at all. “I don’t really know what to feel or think… There’s a great chance you’re confused by your own feelings, too. And maybe after Eddie appeared on the scene those feelings might be doing a number on your mind and making you take them as something deeper than they really are.”

“That’s… you’re wrong, I know what I’m feeling,” he says softly, his head dropping to your joined hands, where he caresses your skin with his thumb.

“Bucky…” you sigh, “Even if you’re really in love with me like you say you are… You never wanted that,” you try to reason, as he looks up at you, “With that kind of sentiment comes commitment, and commitment is not a piece of cake. Most of the time it leads to a broken heart, most likely two. Believe me, I know.”

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you. Your heart is tight by the traces of sorrow you catch behind the look on his face and you hate to be the one to put it there. But at that moment, that’s all you can give him, 

“As for me,” you nod, as if to engrave the thought into your mind, “I think what I need now is to be alone for a while… My entire adult life I was never single. I need to figure out who I am without having someone to lean on emotionally, physically and… I don’t know...You-you know what I’m saying? But, please, I don’t wanna hurt you, I-” You stammer, annoyed that the air you’re breathing suddenly seems to not be enough to fill your lungs.  

“Hey, hey,” he soothes, dragging himself through the cushions to come even closer to you as he notices your increasing distress, “It’s ok,” he says, taking your hand to his lips and placing a kiss on it, coaxing a short gasp out of you, “I get what you’re saying, and I respect that. I do.” He offers you a comforting smile.

The sorrow you’ve seen moments ago is not on his gaze anymore, and it helps to ease down your breathing and mind, driving you to focus solely on him, his voice and what he’s saying.  

“I don’t want to force myself or my feelings on you, and you don't need to worry about hurting me, sweetheart. It's ok. I promise. I’m a grown ass man, I might’ve been confused, but I can handle my own feelings.” A kind of sweetness you’ve never heard from him laces his voice, “I just need you to understand one thing, though.” His features turn a bit more serious, “I know what I’m feeling, no matter how much time passes and no matter if it’s the same for you or not. It doesn’t change anything for me. I was confused before, I was. But I’m not anymore.”

“Ok,” a low mumble is all you manage to provide as an answer, stunned by both the words and the certainty he reveals through them.

“Are we good?” He checks.

“We’re good.”

He smiles, a bright and gentle grin, and it’s the Bucky you’ve spent almost every day of the last month on his demeanor again. You smile back, feeling your shoulders a bit lighter.  

“I have one more question, though. I’m new to this whole express feelings stuff,” he grimaces playfully, “Did I screw everything up?” He asks, but there’s no weight on his words while his forehead scrunches up a bit, but the smile lingers on his lips.

You laugh a little, before bringing a hand to cup his cheek, “You didn’t screw anything up and I’m not dismissing what you’re telling me you’re feeling, Bucky, it’s not that at all.” You shake your head and it feels cozy inside your chest as he leans his cheek against the touch of your hand, “I just think we both need to take our time and understand our feelings straight. You and me.” You lightly stroke his cheek with your thumb.

“Does that mean our deal is off?” He asks with a cringing curve on his lips.

You let out a chuckle, bringing your hand to your lap, “Let’s call it suspended for now, how about that?”

He shrugs, “Ok, but Little Bucky down there is going to be very upset, he turned out to have a strict preference.”

“Oh my God.” You let out a loud laugh, “Little Bucky? Seriously?”

“Don’t make fun of him, he’s very sensitive today.” He puts on an exaggerated pout.  

Your head falls back from how much you laugh, being followed shortly by him. You don’t know if it’s a habit developed in the last month or something bigger than that, but you can’t help when your lips and his meet. He sighs through the kiss, which starts slow and gentle, but next thing you know, you’re both breathing hard and you have your fingers buried through his locks as he pulls you by the waist, his broad body on yours, his arms around you, his heat burning you up while your heart beats fast against his chest…

You have to put together every little ounce of strength inside you to part your lips from him, letting your forehead rest against his.

“Bucky…” you whisper, trying to catch some hair, “We shouldn’t-“.

“See you around, sweetheart,” he says back and, after placing a long kiss on your forehead, he gets up and walks towards the door, sporting a cheeky little smirk on his lips that makes your heart race even more.   

~~~

To be continued...

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #marvel fanfiction #it's a deal #bucky barnes series #it's a deal chapter 10

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

so this morning, while scrolling through my fb feed, i came across an nyt opinion/advice piece from a 27yo (ie basically me lmao) who is obviously lucky, in a sense, to finally land their “dream job using my (their) skills” etc. like obvs i can’t read it bc of the stupid “you get one free article a month if you either don’t have an account or subscription” (my one free article was used up reading an article about adult adhd like last week)….. thing that nyt does.

but anyway. back on topic lol. the crux of the article in both the headline and the quote snippet was that the advice asker was really dissatisfied with the 40 hour work week that came with her “dream job”. with how having this 40hr workweek gave her no time to do her busy chores like house cleaning or laundry or didn’t even give her time to let her have her hobbies/creative pursuits (whatever they were/are).

however, in the comments on the article (and apparently from those who read the article on the comments, the advice/opinion column writer) a good bunch of like gen Xer’s and baby boomers (im assuming) were ganging up on the asker like “suck it up princess, it’s what life is!!! i work 70+ hours a week and LOVE IT and have just resigned myself to the fact that i have NO time left over to do my “chores”! learn to O U T S O U R C E these life admin tasks to someone else!!! everyone MUST LEARN this in america!!! it makes life so much easier ☺️” and such.

of course, there were plenty of the same bs comments that you see on anything about careers or home ownership towards millennials/gen Z’ers about “learn to go WITHOUT and save save save and squander your time so that you NEVER live and HAVE FUN or TIME FOR HOBBIES! my bet is that your parents did that and they survived just fine while also raising your ungrateful spiteful ass (not including any type of health issues they might have picked up from such long hours/shitty working conditions) so why can’t you just L E A R N to do the same you precious spoilt brat!!! because the reality of Real Life™️ is that you can’t have it both ways!!! then you’ll have early retirement guaranteed, hopefully!!! and know that hobbies really are time wasters most of the time ☺️ or at least they were for me!!! and your precious so-called “creative pursuits” most definitely are time wasters. no one needs THOSE.” and so on so forth.

they also had jibes for her bc the asker wanted to start a family at some point apparently… and apparently it’s “much worse” once you have kids. like. thanks geraldine and henry. you’ve just told us how much you’ve resented having your kids/family in one fell swoop. your opinion which you’ve framed as unhelpful, condescending advice is now voided.

like. i don’t know how rhonda or paul or deandra or philip could miss the point so fucking entirely. why the fuck should anyone- nay everyone (bc that’s what they make it sound like)- learn to outsource their busy chores like laundry/house cleaning/grocery shopping or god knows what else- to someone else???? why is that apparently a standard expected to be learnt in the US???

like why the fuck are you so desperate for people not to have free time to do these things (unless of course they live in some of those shitty nyc or other big city apartment blocks that don’t come with individual private laundries in the self-contained flats or a communal laundry on like the bottom floor or w/e for example) frank????

deidre why the hell are you so bitterly hankering about “be grateful that you have it easier than most and learn that hobbies mean jackshit and just sell your soul and time to your boss!!! when will the generation stopping being “me me me!!!” and “work life balance!” and think about the company’s bottom line!! learn that “work life balance” is never important! work like a slave for 50 years and see if your valuable experience is needed then! that’s when you’ll learn that those hours where you were never being lazy, instead of just expecting life to be handed to you, will have paid off!” or whatever other ridiculously toxic capitalist bullshit they were spitting out.

obviously there were FAR MORE people actually supporting the question asker and echoing the idea that the 40hr workweek is now redundant. they were also putting down the opinion/advice piece writer’s advice to the asker….. that was apparently similar to the all the bitter people on the comments saying that the 27yo was just “asking for too much” and had to “learn to suck it up instead of being a petulant and overly selfish dick!!” etc etc etc. we all know the spiel as thoroughly as the macarena now.

because whats so fucking wrong with wanting time to yourself and wanting time to do your busy chores??? why the fuck should i be outsourcing these to other people (unless of course you’re still living at home and your parents are still like “hey what clothes do you need washed i’m doing a load rn” or you have a partner that works from home or has some type of parental leave etc)???? i want to do my own laundry. i want to do my own gardening (ok lawn mowing or tree lopping (if needed) i’d actually outsource bc i can’t lift or push lawn mowers bc they’re heavy af for me or and i obvs can’t use a chainsaw)… but i want to do my own grocery shopping. i want to do my own cooking (although i would consider the meal kit services once i had job that allowed me to afford like $50 a month for one of those meal kits sub services) i want to do my own cleaning.

why, if i lived in the US and not australia, am i just expected to learn to outsource all of these tasks even if i don’t have the money for it??? like why the actual fuck are so many of you so fucking weirdly proud of being absolutely worked into the fucking ground for your “great country” (although this is actually bleeding through to australia too and i hate it); working like literally close to 100 hours a week???

because i wasn’t aware you had to be whatever the fuck his name is from 127 hours and cut your fucking limbs off just to fucking survive a job in either corporate america or just let alone any goddamned job in america….. all so they can supposedly “learn to like working for free and devaluing your worth even more to your employer through overworking yourself and always being available!!! mental health is for those who aren’t built for the Real Adult World™️!!! this person is a prime example of the younger generations being weak and dissatisfied with life so often because of their “oh poor little me!!! care for me!!” act. NO ONE CARES FOR YOU today. stop being so over-expectant/demanding and juvenile!!! only YOU care yourself and you should NEVER expect someone else to pick you up from YOUR bootstraps!!! you’re fucking whiny and conceited babies. the lot of you!!!”

because i honestly don’t know who the fuck would enjoy working 70+ hours week with no time to themselves to do what they enjoy doing…. or enjoy having zilch time to catch up on errands and life admin duties or just general house chores; especially if you’ve moved cities or an entire fucking state/s away from your family and support network. let alone doing the same thing on 40 hours a week.

and on top of everything, let’s not even get started on the time spent commuting to and from work or even commuting for life errands/tasks etc etc- especially if you’re like me and you’re nowhere near the capital city’s centre (ie sydney australia for me) for there to be reliable enough public transport and longer commute times to certain places in those cities (that i’ve bitched about plenty before on other posts on here about work/jobs).

get your head out of your asses warren and viola et al and realise that work life balance is literally NOT ASKING FOR MUCH and is asking employers to just have basic respect for their employees time if they work fulltime. it’s literally detrimental to ones health if they have to sacrifice what feels like (or what is literally like) their entire fucking existence to their employer just for meagre pay and just to fucking survive.

because i read a heart-breaking article last night from huffpost (posted by buzzfeed on fb) about a woman in the US who literally hid her having a second baby from her employer for an entire fucking year (literally the entire pregnancy and birth of the baby and the first 6 months post pushing the baby out) during the pandemic all because she was scared she would get demoted or lose her leading of a project and lose her bs “temp” job which had really turned into full time work although the employer never said anything about it being actually full time hours or whatever…. and plus the lady herself was apparently to scared to ask to be put on the books fulltime too for some weird reason.

like honestly. fuck capitalism. fuck thinking that “work life balance is just too hard for employers to add and regulate. it’s an excuse and ploy for workers to be unprofessional, unproductive and lazy!” or whatever the fuck. everyone deserves time to themselves to pursue their interests/hobbies and busy chores/life admin. no one deserves to waste their entire life working 70+ work weeks for those employers who literally have no respect for their employees personal lives and time.

and particularly during the time that is the pandemic as we’ve seen so many companies having to learn to wholeheartedly embrace working from home and more flexible schedules for their workers. worklife balance is absolutely fucking beneficial for everyone involved.

america fix your bullshit work ethic right now lmao.

#life #about me #shut up ilona #ilona’s job hunting thoughts and woes lmao

[that-sw-writer]

Omg plz write a part 2 of Hux’s sister

Ask and ye shall receive!

PART ONE

Word count: 2272

Warnings: none, but again just a bit of a crack fic

Sibling Rivalry II

"What's that?" Armitage asked, in a judgemental tone.

"What's what?" You innocently replied.

"That." He pointed towards your neck, where you knew there was an inconcealable hickey sitting just below your jawline.

"You know exactly what that is Armitage, or would you rather I announce to the entire bridge that Supreme Leader Ren-"

"No. That's quite enough." He hastily interrupted you, the bitterness evident in his tone.

It had been almost a year since you transferred to The Supremacy, and a lot had changed in that time. Namely, Supreme Leader Snoke had died in... mysterious circumstances, and Kylo Ren had taken his place - much to your brother's dismay. You were the only person who Ren had trusted with the truth: that he had been the one to kill his ex-master. But you weren't complaining, dating the Supreme Leader certainly had its perks.

He allowed you to take his place as Commander, a job which required a lot less admin than being a Lieutenant. Plus, admittedly, you did tend to get away with missing deadlines more than the average First Order officer.

Whilst things had only gotten better for you, they had gone the opposite way for your brother. He spent his days expressing his hatred of Kylo to you, hoping that it would perhaps spur you to break up with him. But he was well aware that so long as the two of you were together, his life and job weren't at risk.

"Speak of the devil," Armitage grumbled under his breath as Ren walked onto the bridge, every officer in the vicinity immediately standing to attention. All except you and your brother who merely watched him as he approached.

"Be nice." You hissed, your attention immediately turning to Kylo as he approached you both.

"I need to talk to you." He addressed you, immediately giving your brother a pointed look which read 'leave us alone.'

With a reluctant sigh, Armitage said: "very well, I'm spending this evening with Millicent anyway."

After you had watched him depart, your gaze trailed back to Kylo, who forced himself to tear his own eyes away from the mark he had left on your neck.

"Who's Millicent?" He suddenly asked.

"His cat." You slowly replied, wondering why he cared.

Kylo let out a sharp, deep, laugh, "he has a cat? I thought it was a woman."

This time you let out a cackle, "a woman? All the times he said he was going to play with Millicent what the fuck did you think he meant?" You kept your voice down, away from prying ears.

"I just imagine that's how he speaks about women." He shrugged, but at that very moment, an idea hit you.

"Millicent... a woman." You muttered as the cogs turned in your brain, "his wife." You laughed as the idea formed.

"What?" Kylo looked at you, utterly confused.

"Nothing, just thinking of new ways to make Armitage's life difficult." You smirked, "anyway, what did you need to talk to me about?"

"I'll be off base for a while, I shouldn't be gone longer than two rotations." He told you, very matter-of-factly.

You nodded, quite used to watching him come and go on various missions. You knew that you would be the one coordinating things from aboard The Supremacy. "Okay, just stay safe." You told him, knowing that he absolutely wouldn't heed that warning - he never did.

"I will." He replied, just to keep your mind at ease. Leaning in, he captured your lips in a brief kiss, being Supreme Leader meant that he had grown tired of caring who knew about your relationship. Nobody had any power to stop him.

In Kylo's absence, you would simply have to distract yourself by spreading some completely untrue rumours about your brother around the base.

><><><><><><><><><

"Y/N..." You could hear the snarl in Armitage's voice as he pulled you aside on your way to the bridge.

"What can I do for you, Armitage?" You gave him an innocent grin, knowing exactly what had him so worked up.

"Tell me why when I speak about Millicent, people seem to think I'm referring to my wife."  He snapped, and you stifled a laugh.

"I'm not sure, maybe you need to work on your communication skills. After all, constantly referring to her as Millicent rather than 'my cat' can be very misleading."

"The AS division are all calling me a 'toxic husband,' because I keep my wife locked up all day and night!" He exclaimed, the frustration evident in his tone at becoming a laughing stock. You cracked at that, a loud cackle escaping your lips. This gossip spreading truly couldn't have gone better.

"Amazing," you said as your laughter died down, "absolutely amazing."

Spreading that rumour had been easy, you had made a simple suggestion to Captain Phasma along the lines of 'isn't it so weird how General Hux always talks about this Millicent woman but nobody's ever seen her?' And from there, it had spread like wildfire.

With no contact from Kylo since he had left, investing yourself in spreading gossip at your brother's expense had been the perfect way to stop yourself from worrying. Besides, he was due back that very day, so the timing couldn't have been better.

After Armitage finished scolding you to no end, you both went to the bridge to receive an update from Kylo's team. Usually, he would contact you over the comms with the number of injured and deceased troopers so you could have the med-bay prepare accordingly. This mission had just been recon, so you weren't expecting any issues.

"Commander Hux, come in." A different voice spoke to you over the comms today, and you immediately wondered why it wasn't the Supreme Leader speaking to you.

"I'm here-" you responded, "go ahead." You didn't want to make a big fuss about Kylo not being the one to contact you, especially not with Armitage at your side - he would never let you hear the end of it.

"Despite complications, the mission was a success." The voice crackled over the comm.

"What complications?" Your heart involuntarily started racing as your mind thought of every worst-case scenario.

"They knew we were coming ma'am and we were met with heavy fire, but we managed to escape. Plenty of minor injuries, two will need medical attention, and one deceased." He formally spoke, but you were barely listening anymore. Kylo not having been in touch was worrying enough, but this was the icing on the cake. You simply turned to Armitage, and he could read your expression, so he took over.

"This is General Hux. We will prepare the med-bay." He curtly said, cutting the comm off before you could ask the question plaguing your mind.

"It won't be him." Your brother said, "as much as I wish it would be." He then grumbled, which was met by a hard elbow from you.

"But what if it is?" You stressed, "he usually contacts me, but this time I've heard nothing!"

"Just... sit down." He suggested, unsure of what else to say. Part of Armitage was praying that Ren was the one casualty on the mission, but he also didn't want his little sister to have her heart broken. Truly a catch-22 for him.

"No, I'm not 'sitting down,' Armitage!" You exclaimed, beginning to pace. "I'll tell you what, if he walks off that transport as if nothing has happened then I'm going to make him the second casualty of the mission for stressing me out like this."

"I think you're being a bit dramatic." He tried to console you.

"You're only saying that because you're praying that he's not coming back." You grumbled.

"That's a fair accusation." He admitted, "but as much as it pains me to say, I know Ren means a lot to you, even if I can't begin to fathom what you see in him." At this point he was practically speaking through gritted teeth - Maker out of everyone in the First Order his sister could have fallen for, it had to be his arch-nemesis.

"I'm going to go and tell the med-bay to prepare." You huffed before leaving the bridge. You needed to distract yourself from this pit of worry that was opening up in your stomach. Surely you were just overthinking things, but considering the circumstances, you couldn't help yourself. Part of you hated how much you cared about Kylo because you didn't like feeling this dependent on him.

Just to try and help lift your mood you were sure to perpetuate the rumour about your brother and Millicent on your way down to the med-bay. A group of troopers had been quietly discussing whether there was any truth behind it or not, and as the General's sister it was your solemn duty to confirm the rumour

"Yeah it's crazy, Millicent is my sister in law and I don't think I've seen her since the wedding." You whispered to them as you went by, trying your best not to break out into laughter on the spot. If anything was going to take your mind off worrying about Kylo, it was definitely going to be making Armitage's life just that bit more miserable.

Whilst you were on your way to tell the med-bay to prepare, Armitage was left on the bridge, which meant that when the ship returned from the mission he begrudgingly had to go to the hanger to greet them instead of you.

As the boarding ramp lowered he found himself genuinely wondering if Ren was going to be the singular casualty. He knew he was being ridiculous thinking it, but your panicking had clouded his judgement a bit.

To Armitage's dismay, but likely your relief, Kylo was the first person to leave the craft. He looked filthy, a few cuts littering his face and his robes dirtied from battle. The Supreme Leader was used to seeing you when he returned from a mission, and being greeted by your brother left him with a scowl on his face.

"What are you doing here?" He grumbled.

"Lovely to see you alive Supreme Leader." Armitage sneered in response, "although if you don't talk to my sister soon I doubt you'll be alive much longer."

"Spare me the empty threats General, we both know you couldn't kill me if you tried." He waved his hand in dismissal as he walked past Armitage.

"Perhaps. But this time it's not me you need to be worried about." He called after Kylo, who turned around with his brow furrowed.

"Y/N?" He knew that perhaps not contacting you for the entire duration of the mission wasn't his best idea, and now he was already regretting it.

"She's not happy." Your brother plainly responded as he walked back towards Ren.

"Has she got those brow lines she gets when she's angry?"

"She'll most definitely have them when she finds out you're alive." Armitage grimaced, "I'd tread carefully if I was you."

"Fuck." Kylo swore under his breath when he saw you approaching.

Now stood next to Ren, Armitage whispered up to him, "whatever you do, just don't make her any angrier for both of our sakes."

"You-" your finger was immediately pointing directly in Kylo's face as you stormed over, "you're going to be the death of me, you know that? I hear nothing from you, then suddenly there's a casualty on the mission! But here you are as if nothing happened."

"I'm sorry." He said. Openly apologising was such a rarity for Kylo that it made you stop dead in your tracks.

"Come again?" You couldn't quite believe your ears.

"I said I'm sorry. I should have contacted you." He was so calm that you found your rage dissipating. Any kind of apology from Kylo was a victory.

"Then I guess you're off the hook." Your expression now changing to a more teasing one.

"What?" Armitage exclaimed, "you can't let him off that easily!"

"Why not?" You raised an eyebrow at him, knowing that he was just hoping to keep you angry at Kylo for as long as possible.

"I don't know, you just can't!" He grumbled.

"Go and feed your wife Armitage, she's been alone all day." You said, purposely loudly so people would overhear you, and he immediately went red in the face.

"She's my cat!" He practically yelled the word but nevertheless went storming off. "One day you'll break up with him, mark my words!" He called as he departed, giving up on caring who was around to hear.

"At this rate Armitage, he's more likely to become your brother in law!" You knew there were absolutely no plans of marriage, but you couldn't miss the opportunity for humour.

Kylo snorted from beside you, "I doubt we'd do much family bonding."

"He'd probably try and kill you in your sleep." You laughed.

"'Try' being the key word." Kylo paused for a moment before he pulled you into his arms, but before he kissed you he paused, "his cat being his wife?"

"I got bored, spread a rumour, the usual." You shrugged, before leaning in to close the gap between your lips. You didn't care that he was dirtied from his mission, you were just relieved to have him back.

"And another thing-" Armitage interrupted you both as he stormed back over, no doubt with a witty insult to hurl at Ren. Your lips parted so you could both stare it him with deadpan expressions, whereas he just looked disgusted. "Why do you insist on these displays in public? I don't want to see it."

"All the more reason to do it." Kylo smirked and pulled you back in for a kiss.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren x y/n #armitage hux #hux

[bladekindeyewear]

Okay so, I have no idea who Aesma is. What does "Turning Vriska into Homestuck's Aesma" mean in this context?

I really don’t want to get into it much, as Kill Six Billion Demons is truly incredible from top to bottom so far and I think it’s more fun to go in blind.  Ideally, ignore everything I have to say and go read it some time.  (Be sure to read the text posts under every so-odd page, the sometimes-present hover-over alt-text too, et cetera.)  Like, don’t even read this post, even though it isn’t really a spoiler.

However, to sum it up if you want it.....

In the mythological pantheon outlined in K6BD, Aesma is the mother of chaos and quite seemingly the embodiment of the Id.  In stories of her exploits with titles like “Aesma and the Three Masters (and the lessons she never learned)”, Aesma is depicted as the epitome of willful selfishness and ignorant wickedness, a committer of atrocities both intentional and inadvertent -- and is also the most beloved of the Creator’s children by said Creator, not just for stripping bare the hubris of others, even the Divine, but for embodying the selfish drive of Life that distinguishes (and in this Creator’s view, should rightly distinguish) the living from nothingness.  She is selfish to the point of stupidity, egotistical in a way that is constantly self-defeating, and yet a paradoxically shining example of an attitude one must embrace in some respect to truly strive in life -- and an example none that live should believe themselves above.  Even the angels begin their prayers with her name in deference, though not exactly entirely admiringly.

You COULD say that some of the writers of Homestuck^2 love Vriska a bit more than the average fan, to say the least, and a little more than Andrew did.  And you could both judge from the story’s current contents and expect from the known views of said writers that they are PERHAPS more likely to focus on how awesome she is than the pain and suffering her continued refusal to learn anything will keep bringing down on everyone.  Showing her toxic flaws off, sure, but at the same time (in some crucial ways) having the narrative almost “forgive” them because she gets results. NOT that they've quite done so YET, not entirely! But they might.

That possibility worries me.

As far as Vriska went, the pre-Epilogue ending of Homestuck was pretty perfect for the story’s themes:  Vriska DID get to save the day, glory-hogging and fighting Lord English in the way she THOUGHT she wanted... but in the process was denied the Ultimate Reward, was in fact rendered irrelevant in the ways that ACTUALLY mattered and was left excluded from the happiness promised to those who decided that creating the next world and living in it mattered more to them than cosmic victory.  She chose relevance over everything else, and Paradox Space cursed her by granting her wish. (Never learning her lesson... and paying dearly for it, in ways she doesn't even realize.)

The Epilogues undermine her further.  They show that she was barely a cog in the machine that resulted in Lord English’s defeat.  They give her a second POTENTIAL chance at eventual happiness, but do so by “banishing her to irrelevance” and thrusting her into the “non-canon” storyline.  It was revealed recently in HS^2 that the history books of the Candy timeline didn’t even really give her actions any credit.

So... pretty much the worst thing I could imagine Homestuck^2 doing -- and I COULD imagine it doing this, unfortunately -- is taking this nigh-unrepentant abuser who has barely regretted her actions and torn the souls and potential out of characters like Tavros who were doomed never to recover from it, and “correcting” this ending a bit.  To have her potentially ruin an ENTIRE POST-VICTORY EARTH with another meteor apocalypse (or try to), to continue her same selfish attitude portrayed in FURTHER “heroic” light, and then have the narrative ITSELF imply that everyone should be thanking her in the end????

There are some good lessons to learn from Vriska’s better qualities.  However, K6BD’s mythological stories of Aesma treat her depiction VERY carefully, or I guess I should say heavy-handedly -- leaving NO illusions or ambiguity about the evil of her actions, the caustic ignorance inherent in the lessons she refuses to learn, turning a selfish perpetual-child into an almost-pitiable one that ultimately DOES “lose”... even as the story cautions everyone not to pity her, as to think oneself too much “better” than her is a grave and arrogant error.  That deliberate, clear nuance would be LOST if the same reverent narrative treatment were ultimately given to Vriska.  Homestuck^2 would become a vehicle to forgive her abuse, her choice of ignorance, as something that can be ultimately padded over or mulliganed at the last minute.  The stories of Aesma carefully depict her to show that if she had learned ANY lesson -- ANY at all in the multiple opportunities given to her throughout her storied life -- she could have been not just the Creator’s most beloved, but truly the greatest in every respect WE value.  And the tragedy that she does not is both unforgivable / deserving of mockery, AND a cautionary, frank depiction of Humanity itself as sharing that same blind failing.

Homestuck is another work that constantly tries to show the value in people who are flawed -- even dangerous.  (Unsurprising that they’d share this, given how K6BD began as an adventure on the MSPA Forums.)  Trying to blindly do the SAME to Vriska as Aesma, though, to finally end the story of the Homestuck series as one that gives her her “due credit”, risks communicating an awful lesson that her crimes were “worth it” despite trampling over the will of almost everyone else who exists, both inside and outside canon.  If it’s not done VERY, VERY CAREFULLY.

I hope they avoid this route altogether, and instead -- since it’s unlikely she’ll purely “die” achieving relevance at the cost of happiness again -- have her finally accept SOME degree of mediocrity in a way that actually learns her a fucking lesson for once, and doesn’t just let Vriska shut her sins into the closet and lean casually on the door, after a brief show of considering contrition or a disproportionately-small sob that her victims’ roiling, broken ghosts would roll their eyes at.

#Kill Six Billion Demons #Homestuck #Homestuck^2 #KSBD #Vriska #Aesma #K6BD #ksbd spoilers #k6bd spoilers

[readingsbylibramc]

birth chart reading for @augustsippedaways

hello! welcome to your reading. I’m gonna give you a quick overview of what I’m going to analyze about your natal chart. feel free to ask me anything if something isn’t clear, of course. you’ll find out your dominants’ influence on your persona, your physical appearance, impression on others and the way you approach the world; your ego, identity, the real you; your reactions, your desires, inner emotions; your way of expressing your feelings, your mind and ideas; your desires and approach to love; your energy tank, instincts and temperament; in-depth analysis of each house with their rulers and analysis of heavy aspects; love life + soulmates/karmic partners interpretation; your relationship with your friends; your family life; your approach to career and work in general + possible jobs suggestion; your style, fashion sense analysis; life purpose and past life description; basic transits’ analysis to describe your current mood and, last but not least, your secret skills, how to make the most out of your soul and manifest what you desire based on your birth chart.

🦋 chart shape, dominants

your chart is a seesaw shape. your life focuses on different ideals and interests, often constrasting between each other. from one side, this gives you the ability to be adaptable and find solutions easily. on the other hand, you may struggle with balance; for example, you might find yourself dedicating your life to your relationships, neglecting your ego or viceversa. you need to learn how to harmonize these energies.

your dominant planets are jupiter, mercury and venus. you're an intelligent and open-minded person. you have strong morals, but you're also gifted with an amazing sense of humor. you may be quite poetic, skilled at writing, acting or speaking foreign languages. also, you care a lot about your looks and self-care in general, you're probably also fond of fashion.

your dominant sign is gemini. you are a very intelligent individual, you are thirsty for knowledge and you also have great communication skills. you have a witty sense of humor, you're able to make everyone feel at ease with your sympathy. people may say you're two-faced, but in reality you just act in the most appropriate way based on the situation you're in. you despise boredom, you're very experimental in your life, but others may mistake this trait for flakiness.

your dominant element is earth. you're a loyal and stable individual. you value longevity in your relationships, and that makes you quite picky. you can easily appear as cold, as opening up to someone you don't know well is too much of a risk for you. once you do, though, you'll stay forever. money and material possessions are important for you, as you understand that financial stability is one of the main qualifications in life.

🌎 ascendant in virgo, 2° / 1st decan ruled by mercury

you have a practical approach to the world. you’re kind of logical, it’s hard for you to improvize. you always want to keep everything neat and organized, at least in your mind. you could have a natural coldness to your face. you may seem a bit older than you are, or at least very mature and responsible, even though you may be more outgoing than you look due to your many gemini placements. with your attentive eyes, you pay attention to every single detail you see. you’re a perfectionist, and you always want and try to be at your best state. I would say you’re quite competitive when it comes to your goals, but you don’t really do it to be above others. you do it because your obsession for details kind of stresses you out. improving and proving yourself is a way to boost your self-esteem, you feel fulfilled when you can achieve your goals. you are extremely intelligent and logical, you’re always up for a deep talk or simply for an occasion to gain more knowledge. you like being smart, you always want to know about everything. even the latest, trendy meme counts for you. your nature is very cautious; you’re rarely impulsive, you always think deeply about your decisions, as you don’t want to commit any mistakes. because of that, you can be particularly picky. not only with material things such as movies, books, food etc. but even with people. it’s hard for you to open up to someone you don’t know at all. you take things slow, both in friendships and in relationships, just to preserve yourself. you may come off as kind of snobby, but you’re just misunderstood. you don’t like flaky bonds, you need security in your life. physically, as I’ve already mentioned before, you have this kind of strict look on your face. your eyes may be almond-shaped, and you could have a natural feline gaze. overall, you have something smaller about your features; you could have thin lips, a small nose, small eyes… you could have a smaller frame with thin bones, and you don’t gain weight easily. you may be of average height, and I’ve noticed that most virgos tend to have pretty long legs? no matter if they’re tall or not, their legs will still be longer than their bust.

virgo ascendant square gemini sun: this placement indicates that, when you’re in public, you tend to act in a different way from who you truly are. perhaps you’re shy, so you tend to hide your bubbly, talkative gemini sun with your modest, reserved virgo rising. this can obviously interfer in your relationships and bonds with others; some may expect you to be different, so you may often lose friends because you turned out to be more astute and strong than what they were expecting. in fact, you may often attract weak people that need emotional support now that you’re aware of this tendency of yours you can try to understand your real self more thanks to this reading, and start acting like who you truly are to get out of your shell.

virgo ascendant square taurus moon: you may have troubles understanding others’ real feelings for you. you may feel as if everyone hates you, like everyone is talking behind your back when it’s the opposite. you’re particularly sensitive about others’ view and opinion of you, you may get deeply hurt when people criticize you. you could have the tendency to act differently than you usually do, in order to preserve your feelings. this is obviously a toxic behaviour, that fills you up with your own stress and doubles it. due to that, you may become very moody and nervous, ending up hurting others yourself. or maybe, it’s the other way around; your feelings are so overwhelming that you can’t hide them, and that could put you in embarrassing, unpleasant situations. you may show all of your emotions on your face, ready to be read. yet, with your earth energy you don’t like showing yourself to others, therefore you end up feeling ashamed of your own emotions. the way to cope with this placement is finding someone similiar to you; someone who’s trust-worthy, and very sensitive and empathetic too. someone who’d never judge you for you think or say, and that would always help you becoming the best version of yourself. someone that understands you, without having to explain all of your behaviours and habits.

virgo ascendant square gemini venus: this aspect makes you more sociable and prone to interact with people. you’re also most probably very attractive, people are naturally drawn to you. the downside of this placement is that you may suffer from self-esteem issues, as you really care about others’ impression of you. maybe you’re a little bit clumsy too. it’s easy for you to gain popularity, but be careful as it’s not always good. popularity brings scandals too, so people you see in your everyday life could possibly start gossips around you. the good thing about this aspect is that you emanate loyalty, so you usually attract and choose loyal and trust-worthy partners. this placement may also bring issues and problems in marriage with your future partner, even though I don’t think it’s your case. your venus is well-placed, so I don’t think there’ll be serious problems.

🌞 sun in gemini, 11° / 2nd decan ruled by mercury and venus

with your sign in the mutable sign of gemini, you are a very light-hearted, chill individual. you're very bright and bubbly, you have amazing communication skills and also an entertaining sense of humor that is able to light up the room. you're very sociable, you like interacting with others, even though I assume that with your heavy earth energy in your chart, you find it hard to let this side of you out, especially with people you don't feel comfortable with. since gemini is a mutable sign, you most likely have tons of interests and hobbies, they're so many that you find it hard to keep up with all of them, despite being extremely good at multi-tasking. in fact, you're particularly intelligent and thirsty for knowledge. you like learning about everything, you love looking and being smart. it's your way to feel empowered and proud of yourself. you always need freshness in your daily life, you cannot stand boredom. because of that, you may often change your ideas, your hobbies, your favourite singer, etc. sometimes, you could even apply this to friends and lovers, and people may consider you unloyal or not much serious because of that. in addition, you get easily very anxious and stressed, to the point that you may seem dramatic to others. you may also get scared easily, even though you try to stay collected thanks to your taurus moon.

gemini sun conjunct gemini venus: you enjoy peace and harmony. you want your surroundings to look all neat and clean, and the same goes for the people you surround yourself with. you wish people saw you as easy to approach, even though you may struggle with your image. you try to be as formal and kind as possible with people you don’t know well, you're very well-spoken. you’re also particularly feminine, not only in your looks and manners but also in the way you dress. you’re quite romantic too, and dream of having a perfect marriage. the downside to this aspect is that because you take so much care of yourself, people may mistake your self-love for vanity, especially with your venus squaring the ascendant. also, your self-esteem may depend too much on others’ opinion of you; you may start thinking you’re ugly and unworthy of love just because someone told you you’re not their type, to sum up.

gemini sun conjunct gemini mars: with this placement, you may be even more straight-forward than the typical gemini. you are very impulsive and honest above all, you say things as they are. you don't get hurt easily, you're able to be very brave when you want to, and even if you do get emotionally hurt, you know how to stand up for yourself again. you strive to achieve your goals and make your dreams come true, you're an hard-worker. some may call you impatient, but in reality it could be just an impression. you are resolute, but your taurus moon also makes you patient, even though you could get easily excited. for example, let's suppose you're going to the mall to buy the playstation you always wanted. you'd start only thinking and talking about that playstation until you actually get it in your hands. also, this is a placement that indicates that it is hard not to notice you; you have a very strong charisma that makes others stare. you strive to be the number #1 at whatever you do, you're a serious competitor and you'd do anything to win and achieve your goals.

gemini sun opposite sagittarius pluto: probably during your childhood you couldn't make your own decisions. you might have been highly influenced by someone in your family, probably your father, and hence now you feel the need to have everything under control. maybe too much. you despise authority, you may even quite be rebellious at times. maybe your parents have tried to convince you following their religion, ideals etc., without giving you freedom. or perhaps, they are overprotective and avoid to make you have experiences. I imagine that getting rid of your control issues, which are caused by this sense of not being in control of your life, may be the first step to finally heal your wound, which is somehow linked to the relationship with your family and childhood experiences in general. start trusting others more, and don't be afraid of being 'fooled'. you're totally capable of understanding when someone is trying to hurt you, follow your intuition. even though it may be hard, even painful, it'll be the key to transform and overcome saturn's lessons to achieve your goals.

🌙 moon in taurus, 22° / 3rd decan ruled by venus and mercury

the moon is exalted in taurus, so it's definitely a good placement! you're very peaceful, you try to avoid conflicts when you can. taurus' most striking feature is that they crave stability, whether it's financial, in love etc. you must be very stubborn, as taurus is a fixed sign, this placement, paired with your imaginative pisces energy, makes you settle on making your ideas concrete, and it's very beneficial. it makes you capable of achieving any goals in your life. you're also very artsy, and you may fancy particular art styles. you have a good eye for aesthetics, and you care a lot about the looks of your house, body, clothes etc. you have excellent concentration, and that is another thing that helps you achieve your goals and make your ideas concrete. last but not least, you're amazingly patient, and that makes you a great friend. probably, they vent a lot of their worries to you, as you're also a great listener.

taurus moon conjunct taurus saturn: you tend to hide your emotions under a severe, strict mask. the way you approach others is influenced by your sense of defensiveness, making you lack genuinity. this comes from a fear of intimacy and dealing with your inner, deeper self. it's like you're hiding from your own emotions, so of course you will never be able to express them properly if you're not aware of them. to learn saturn’s lessons, you need to overcome your trust issues. find someone you truly trust and open up to them; it’s only a small step, but once you become more comfortable with someone else, you’ll start feeling better in your own shoes too, trust me, don't be afriad to be judged negatively. it will make you gain more maturity after sorrow.

taurus moon square aquarius uranus: while growing up, you probably felt like an outcast, and maybe you even earned strenght from it. your emotions are unpredictable, you probably have a reputation for being lunatic and changing your mind often. you're attracted to what's considered different, almost 'weird'. in fact, in life you're constantly seeking fun and excitement. you despise boredom. hence, you may change your routine often, especially in your early years. this placement also indicates a parent that was 'odd', or maybe unpredictable or even absent, probably your mother. also, since the moon is placed in the 9th house and uranus in the 6th, I feel like you could end up pursuing a different, unexpected career from your studies in the future.

🗣 mercury in cancer, 2° / 1st decan ruled by the moon

unlike other mercury dominant individuals, you don't exculsively rely on logic. you're very emotionally intelligent, and you take in consideration others' feelings when you speak. even though you may be impulsive and blunt sometimes, you don't do it with malice at all. you may actually feel guilty after you realize that you've hurt someone. you may be sort of manipulative, as you're very observant of others' behaviours. because of that, you may be extremely good at interacting with others, since you know how to speak to people when you don't let your impulsiveness get over you. you know how to persuade others, even though you may not even realize it. if you manage to balance your sun and your mercury, I think it would give you great social skills. you'd be able to stand up for yourself, while also being mindful and conscious of the effect of your words on others. you may get defensive quite easily, and because of that you may become a bit secretive. that's because, deep down, you feel the need to be understood to fully convey and express your emotions. you want to feel at home with your interlocutor, otherwise you'll just be awkward. on the other hand, you have a nice sense of humor, you're able to light up the room with your jokes. your voice may be nasal, but pretty much very gentle and melodic as well.

❤️ venus in gemini, 8° / 1st decan ruled by mercury

this is the flirtiest, most romantic gemini decan, but also the flakiest and most indecisive. your flirting style most probably includes jokes, teasing… stuff like that. even though you may seem flaky, as you like experiencing romance with different types of people, you’re actually quite picky. in fact, in order to fall for someone, you need to feel mentally attracted to them, not just physically. someone ignorant and stubborn that doesn’t care about learning something more definitely isn’t for you. you’re not the type to be super romantic and sweet with your partner or just people in general. you show your affection for example by sending them memes, making ironic jokes about them etc. also, when you’re into someone, you probably get very talkative! you start asking them simple questions about their life, even things like 'did you have lunch?’. also, you talk about them with all of your friends, and you find yourself thinking costantly about them. you’re very curious of nature, but you’re only interested in getting to know what catches your eye.

gemini venus opposite sagittarius pluto: you find yourself having crushes on random people often, love at first sight is common for you. but when you seriously fall for someone, they’re your only thought. you start searching for info about them online, and you wanna become a part of their life too. you love intensely, but not everyone may enjoy that. there are people that could feel overwhelmed by your love, others that would vibe with you and offer you the same kind of affection. ironically, you tend to attract weak, indecisive people that most of the times don’t want anything serious. you’re prone to get jealous and possessive very easily, and this makes you suffer, as you may think there’s something wrong with you. maybe, it may even remind you of something that happened during your childhood, perhaps your parents were also very protective of you. love for you is a constant grow; your relationships will be hard, but there’ll always be something to learn to improve yourself and your confidence. little side-note, you may often date karmic partners, aka partners from your past lives, so you may often experience this 'I’ve already seen you before’-vibe in your new encounters and relationships, and you’ll always learn something from all your relationships.

☄️ mars in gemini, 19° / 2nd decan ruled by mercury and venus

you’re driven by the sense of intelligence. your intellect is your greatest strenght, it’s your energy tank. you’re interested in a bunch of things, and hence you may have troubles staying focused on one thing at the time. you probably have tons of hobbies, and you may end up not being much precise since you have tons of things that you have and want to do. you can’t stand boredom, you need your day-to-day life to be exciting and, above all, offer you something new to learn and / or experience. you probably fancy being very active: you go out often, you workout, you may also be the type to love partying and things like that. you’re extremely witty and curious, and you want to live your life to the fullest. you may often change your style, your opinions, maybe even your personality, and that could make you seem confusing and / or unreliable.

gemini mars opposite sagittarius pluto: with this placement, I assume that when you were younger you were some sort of victim. you could have been bullied, for example, you used to be insecure about the way you looked and were. you could have felt different from others, and they took advantage of that to make you feel even more insecure. or maybe, it was a parent, or every authoritative figure in your life, that restricted you from following your own ideals. because of that, now you constantly feel the need to prove yourself. you probably tend to accumulate a lot of anger all together, which you need to let all out or you could explode. you could find comfort in physical ways to relieve stress, like punching bags, slamming doors, etc. or perhaps, when you're angry you just get overwhelmed by all of your emotions. you may cry, scream, even throw up in certain cases. on the other hand, you are extremely magnetic and attractive to others, you naturally draw people towards you. you're also extremely passionate in whatever you do, you put your whole heart in doing things you love. you're very hard-working and determined to achieve your goals, and I find this beneficial considering that your gemini energy tends to make one superficial. with this aspect, you're probably more dedicated than the common gemini.

🏡 houses, interceptions

your 1st house is in virgo. you appear as someone intelligent, possibly judgmental and critical. in fact, you’re a perfectionist, and most of the time you appreciate it when someone takes care of themselves just as much as you do. you’re also particularly pessimistic, and this could be annoying for those around you. the ruler of the 1st house is in the 10th house: your career success makes you feel realized and fulfilled. working is important in your life, and it is a great boost for your self-esteem. having a good reputation and being in charge, a leader, is one of your goals in life.

your 2nd house is in libra. you find beauty and aesthetic in material things; you most probably love clothes, art, music… anything that isn’t exactly a priority in life, but that allows you to express your personal taste, which is very refined. with this placement I's suggest that you should pursue a career that allows you to express your creativity, as arts and beauty allow you not only to make money, but also to increase your security and confidence. you could also spend money in venusian things like clothes, make-up, decorations and anything that involves beauty and aesthetic. the ruler of the 2nd house is placed in the 10th house: your future job will probably allow you to earn a great income, especially if you get promoted to a better position, which is very possible considering your placements. you could actually become the leader or boss at work. this is also another placement that indicates that you may work in a creative field, hence with arts or beauty. possibly, you could even do well as a lawyer, a judge or politician.

your 3rd house in scorpio. you probably love witty jokes and sarcasm. you’re extremely honest when you think and speak, and most of the times you have no problems expressing your opinions. you could possibly be very good with words and be good at convincing and manipulating others. usually this placement makes someone kind of mischievous when it comes to words, but I think that with all the jupiter, influence in your chart and your well-aspected mercury, you’re able to control this in order not to hurt others. your mind is very deep, you’re probably not really into small talks. you may also love anything that is considered taboo, like astrology, horror, nudity, death… you’re also quite secretive, you’re seen as an enigma. you don’t want to share much about you. last but not least, you value honesty above all. you only speak the truth, and hence you also want it back. you may as well be into conspiracy theories, science and anything that can expose what’s behind the universe, the government etc.

your 4th house is in sagittarius, with also chiron and pluto placed in this house. you could come from a foreign place, or perhaps you moved houses a lot during your childhood. perhaps, you have someone in your family that is from a different culture or religion from yours, or perhaps they're able to speak more than one language. your parents could have been very successful at school, they could actually be professors. you might've always been a smart kid, you could've grown up learning more languages and you were most likely good at school too. you also got to make lots of experiences during your childhood, you might have travelled a lot. your relationship with your family is most likely very intense, but not necessarily good. it could be that your parents were quite overprotective of you, you felt judged and restricted from acting the way you wanted. or perhaps, they were emotionally distant, your childhood lacked affection. maybe, they could have also been physically distant, it could be that they had to travel a lot for work and hence you felt lonely. you probably had to grow up sooner than other kids, and it could be that you first came in touch with plutonian topics (drugs, spirits, sex, death etc.) at a young age. you were more mature from this point of view. the ruler of the 4th house is in the 9th house: this placement confirms what I've said above; you and your family may come from a different country, you grew up in contact with foreign languages, studying, philosophy of any kind and also different cultures.

your 5th house is in the sign of capricorn. capricorn usually brings a feeling of seriousness to the house it's in. in your case, I don't think you're introverted, as your heavy gemini dominance is all about communicating. but perhaps, you're not the type to frequent clubs, parties, etc. you're more serious from that point of view. your hobbies could actually drain your energy for you; let's suppose you're into videogames. you could literally spend the whole day playing videogames, as you take your hobbies very seriously. you're not the type to start a project and then leave it, you're very resolute. also, you most likely have 'mature' hobbies; you could be into politics, economy, history... you could be into slower types of music, for example, or perhaps you like reading about world issues. with your children you may be quite strict, as you see them as a responsibility. also, you may often be attracted or attract older or more mature partners. the ruler of the 5th house is in the 9th house: your hobbies may involve stuyding, reading, foreign languages... for example, you could watch movies in a language different from yours. you may also travel as a hobby, and you could often date foreign people.

your 6th house is in aquarius, with also neptune and uranus placed in this house. people with aquarius in their 6th house need to change their routine. probably, when you were you younger they taught you things that aren't healthy for your body and health. you may have to change your diet, your medicines... also, you may sometimes procrastinate in your day-to-day life. I don't think you do it often, you still have a strong virgo and earth dominance in your chart, but for example you wouldn't mind skipping a day of school or work to play videogames. uranus here also indicates that you may often come across unpredictable events in your daily life. you may often see strange, unordinary things, or perhaps it's your routine that is like that. you may lack consistency when it comes to diets and health, for example; you may start a diet and keep it for a month, then you get tired and drop it all of a sudden. you could also develop unexpected diseases.

your 7th house is in pisces. with this pisces descendant, you attract people that are pretty much your opposite; they could have pisces placements, or at least they’ll be extremely artistic and emotional. yet, you may as well surround yourself with 'broken’ people. that is, people that aren’t exactly in the best state of their health, whether physically or mentally. neptune, the ruler of this house, is in the 6th house. you'll most likely meet your future spouse at your work place. you could pursue the same career, they could be a customer of yours... or perhaps, you could meet them in your everyday life, and hence if you attend college you could meet them there, or perhaps in a gym, at the supermarket, on the bus, etc. any place that you frequent daily.

your 8th house is in aries. you’re probably very confident when it comes to taboo topics; you have no problems showing your interest in them, especially with people you’re intimate with. you may also be particularly sensitive to or even tame physical pain. you constantly try to improve yourself by coming up with new projects, you love challenges. they help you growing up into the person you want to become. you may come across some hardships regarding yourself, your identity. but, when you face those fears and start loving yourself, you’ll naturally become more mature and 'transform’. with the ruler of the 8th house in the 10th house, you may be known for your successful career, maybe you may actually get popular easily. this is a beneficial placement for people that want to be recognized/famous, as you naturally have the celebrity vibe and charisma to you. you may also prefer working alone rather than in groups or in an association. you could earn lots of money from your job, even though I don't see you being totally independent. you may work under a boss for example, or perhaps you get successful thanks to others' support, for example you could have some fans that help you boost your career. you may also open a business by yourself.

your 9th house is in taurus. with this placement, I feel like you may use your intellect to gain financial security and material possessions. while this is a good thing, as it helps increasing your confidence, don’t forget that your intellect is more important than money or any other thing. don’t underestimate it. you’re totally capable of learning and understanding things by yourself, hence don’t wait for others for help. you should start dealing with your own experiences alone, without anybody else’s help. you strive for freedom, you want to be your own boss. you don't want others to tell you what to do, but saturn here may make you struggle to achieve your individuality. perhaps, during your childhood, you were restricted from acting the way you wanted. it's like your ideas were disrespected, and you weren't allowed to embrace them, or perhaps you were afraid of the consequences. it may be that when you try to break free from what you consider to be a limitation, you may come across a few struggles that could possibly hurt you. luckily, this is an aspect that will naturally get better time with time as you get more mature. also, since jupiter is also in this house, you'll feel saturn's limitations way less. you may be more optimistic about this situation, or perhaps you didn't even realize that your parents were strict / overprotective for example. the ruler of the 9th house is in the 10th house: your job could possibly include travelling, foreign languages and different cultures in general. possibly, you could also a be a teacher, a professor, a coach… anything that allows you to give lessons. you may also be fond of higher education, and you may become a poet, a philosopher, basically a writer of any kind.

your 10th house is in gemini. you may actually pursue more than one career throughout your life! you're very flexible and skilled at multi-tasking, so you probably wouldn't feel stressed about it. perhaps, you could alternate a creative profession with a more logical career, like working in an office for example. also, you have all of your personal planets minus the moon in this house: the sun, mercury, venus and mars. you're certainly a future, career-oriented person. you're hard-working and you'll probably be able to earn a great income from your job since you're so motivated. your suitable jobs should include communication and creativity at the same time; you could be a writer, for example. or perhaps, you could keep these two things in two separate jobs. what matters is that you use words in both of them, and hence you could even be a judge, a singer, a translator, etc.

your 11th house is in cancer. this placement indicates that your friends, they’re your comfort-zone. you feel understood when you’re with them, they’re pretty much like a family to you. you can tell them anything, you put all of your trust in them. or at least, if you haven’t met anyone like this yet, you’ll surely meet a friend that is like a soulmate to you. they’ll also be very important for your growth. in addition, it could also be that you're still friends with someone from your childhood or even high school days, and hence you could literally grow up together. you could also have some step-siblings. the ruler of the 11th house is in the 9th house: you could befriend people from a different country, nationality or culture from yours. your friends most likely come from abroad, they may be able to speak more than a language just like you do. they're also very open-minded and intelligent; basically, they're extremely similiar to you.

lastly, your 12th house is in leo. this is kind of a tricky placement, as leo rules the self, the ego, and the 12th house rules fears. you could be afriad of being too confident, of feeling worth it, or even just by being in the spotlight. perhaps, you have stage fright. this fear of embracing your persona makes you very insecure, even though you probably don't show it. also, since your 12th house is the house of dreams, you could often make dreams that involve yourself. you hardly ever dream of someone else, and if you they're probably your lovers, possibly your friends. you may also make daydreams or sleeping dreams of creative, utopic scenarios. the ruler of the 12th house is in the 10th house: you could possibly work in a spiritual field, for example you could be a therapist, an astrologer, a fortune teller, a yoga instructor, etc. or perhaps your job will include helping others. you could become a doctor, a lawyer, or even help others in more artistic ways. you could become a singer that heals people through their music and lyrics, for example, or a writer... you'd also do amazing as an actor or comedian.

❤️ love life, soulmates

in love, you attract pisces, taurus, libra, aquarius, leo, sagittarius, capricorn, gemini and virgo placements. your future spouse will most likely have some of their planets in taurus or aquarius; they’ll be well-balanced, with a stable job and finances. yet, they won’t be too much of a workaholic, as they’re also most probably an homebody who loves relax and vacation as well. they could also have frequent mood swings, they're quite unpredictable. your chart points out that this relationship will be kind of unordinary; you may meet them abroad, most likely at work, or even during a simple trip. they’ll also be very spiritual, perhaps religious, or even psychic. your children will have aquarius placements, as well as capricorn traits too. they’ll be extremely open-minded and intelligent; they could be a bit rebellious, but in a very woke and revolutionary way. also, this placement indicates that you may get pregnant unexpectedly, so be careful to that.

👶🏻 family life

your mother was probably very outgoing, sociable and open-minded. she was probably very intelligent too, and she could have been a successful student. yet, she probably was too protective of you, she could have even been quite possessive. possibly, she may even be slightly violent. she probably has sagittarius, pisces and / or scorpio placements in her chart, as well as 9th, 12th and 8th house placements. your father, on the other hand, was probably less strict than your mother. he had a complex personality, but you most likely used to play a lot with him, you had fun together. he may have gemini, virgo, libra, taurus, aries, scorpio or leo placements in his chart. if you have siblings, they have scorpio or aries placements in their chart, as well as 1st / 8th house placements. you might have fought a lot when you were young, there were many control issues and your bond is very intense. you may have a love - hate relationship.

📊 career

luckily, there are many aspects in your chart that indicate that you'll be able to earn a big amount of money from your future job. it will most likely allow you to communicate your feelings, and it will also be the key to finally achieve a stable relationship with your self-image and worth. there are strong placements in your chart that point out to writing talent, as well as singing talent. you're just a very charismatic speaker, so I'd suggest you to take advantage of this natural talent of yours to earn money, luck and self-esteem. you're also very opinionated, and hence you would do well as a journalist, a judge, a diplomat, a politician, etc.

👚 fashion sense, style analysis

I imagine you put a lot of effort into your outifts, yet you don’t show it. you want to look effortlessly good, you don’t want to give the impression that you tried. your style may be quite minimalistic and simple, with lots of jeans, sweatshirts, plain t-shirts… I see you being more into natural shades, like white, grey, beige etc. you’re also not very fond of using too many accessories, you’re stylish but still very simple. you have this natural charm to you, hence you still look good even though your outfits may not be too complex.

👁 past life, life purpose

in your past life time, you didn’t have a specific priority. you just enjoyed wandering with your mind and creativity, allowing yourself to relax with your friends. you used to depend on someone else, not really on yourself. this lifetime, you need to establish your independence AND solid boundaries, not just those you used to daydream about. don’t be afraid to let your inner child out; go to amusement parks, binge-watch netflix, date your crushes, have an hobby, play videogames… you could also play with actual children. anything that brings fun out of you, and that puts a genuine smile on your face. yet, don’t forget that this lifetime of yours revolves around accomplishing your goals.

🤔 major transits analysis / september 18th

a few unpredictable, possibly painful events may occur in this period of time, as transit uranus is in your 8th house opposite your natal chiron. there could be an unexpected loss of money for example, or even death. maybe also an issue surrounding your family life, or something metaphorical. something will happen that will surely change your view of things and will help you have a major transformation.

🧿 manifest what you want, secret skills

your secret skills revolve around finances and just security in general. with a positive attitude, you may attract material luck: money, clothes, houses… everything that you desire. since you’re a logical person, I assume the most efficient way for you to manifest through the LOA is writing! take a notebook and just write down positive affirmations, such as 'I have the car of my dreams’ etc. you may also write them on post-its and glue them around your house, so that you can accelerate the progress. you can also try to idealize your wish before trying to manifest it. for example, if you want a new sweatshirt, try to imagine yourself wearing it. you could also go into a shop and actually try that sweatshirt it on; being in contact with it will boost the law of attraction even more.

and this is the end! thank you again for purchasing a reading, hope it resonated :)

check my pinned post to book a chart reading like this one! @libramc xx

#astrology #astrology birth chart #birth chart #birth chart reading #natal chart #natal chart reading #horoscope

[wainwrightjakobshammerlock]

finally. i decided to do this. anyways hello there, i am jake and today i want to talk about something; you see, if you are in the tf2 fandom, you probably know about heavymedic. Wherther you are a hardcore gamer who resents f2p’s or a person that never played the game but has trillions of notes on their art- you know heavymedic exists and most of all you probably ship it.

And I find that weird. In the few fandoms in my life I have been in I had never seen a single ship be so widely if not shipped, then accepted. Sure, maybe everyone in the GF fandom knows what Billdip is - for better or for worse. Sure, maybe the HS fandom is 70% shipping.

But I have never ever seen such a phenomenon in a prominent multiplayer game fandom. A fandom, sadly, oftentimes filled with toxicity. Overwatch is very similar here - yet ships are either a hot topic of discussion or straight up ignored. But TF2? In here for whatever reason we ship these two mercenaries. And in this essay I will try and find a reason or two why is that.

Apologies for any mistakes or incoherency. English is not my first language, I need to ramble, and my vocabulary is all over the place.

Content warning: mentions of homophobia, blood, death, mentions of WLW fetishization, nsfw mention. Also MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR THE TF2 COMICS.

Part 1: Canonical Evidence and Interactions

Let’s be honest: I could ramble about this one for days on end. But I’ll try and keep it short.

First and foremost we have the official videos. And of course the first thing that comes to mind is Meet the Medic.

At the very start of the part where Medic himself appears, we see him telling a joke about a particularly gruesome situation to Heavy.

He laughs along with him, visibly enjoying his company. He even smiles as he waits for another joke. Heavy only shows genuine fear a lot later.

And of course this damn scene always cracks me up. Medic slightly pinches Heavy’s cheek and strokes his lip gently (the other part is almost not noticeable unless you play the video at slow speed).

Of course we all know about the Hand Hold that happens somewhere halfway in the vid. I don’t think I have to explain the gayness in that. The fact their hands stay interlocked even after Medic helps Heavy up. The deep breath Medic takes because even he cannot handle the emotions. That few seconds is unresolved sexual tension manifest.

Overall the short shows a strong feeling of trust between these two. Medic confides in Heavy and reverse. Yeah he puts a baboon heart into his friend’s chest cavity but the fact (as proven at the end of the video) that Heavy was the first one to have an Ubercharge implanted into him shows that Medic at the very least considers him a lab rat.

I treat End of the Line as non-canonical, as do many others, and as such won’t discuss it here. But it will forever crack me up that Valve endorsed such levels of homoerotic subtext.

These two have some short moments in other videos, like for example in Invasion Heavy helps Medic up (CINEMATIC PARALLELS) but it’s nothing major so I guess I’ll skip forward.

Second is their interactions ingame. You might call me a weirdo for trying to find stuff in there but holy shit I have things to say and I’m going to say them.

You thought I was going to fanboy over the “i love this doktor” voiceline huh? Well not really. I wish these two had unique lines if they assist one another.

Heavy is literally listed on the official wiki as the “ideal medic buddy” and multiple pages on that exact wiki say some pretty interesting things.

I have to say something about the Gentleman’s Ushanka and/or Pocket Medic. They are both community cosmetics - but the fact they both got accepted by Valve says a lot. Above is text snipped from the actual wiki.

Last but not least: The Comics. Darned comics. The pair of mercenaries has basically no interaction - unless you count issue 6.

Heavy getting absolutely PISSED when Medic is killed by Ch*avy. Their reunion. Medic referring to Heavy by “my friend” in a totally straight way. Kind of sad Valve wasted an opportunity for them to hug. Maybe they knew their comic artist ships them and wanted to avoid having to answer the Question™.

Part 2: Dynamics

This part’s a bit trickier, mostly due to the reason that I’m new to this whole dynamic analysis thing. Yeah I’m good at spotting canonical evidence but very specific shipping dynamics often escape my gaze.

The most obvious one is Big Guy, Little Guy. Quoting the TVTROPES page:

[…] This trope describes a pair of guys who always fight together, are best friends forever, and quite often have a very obvious hierarchy: The little guy is often in charge […] The little guy is usually listed first, since he’s the leader, and they are always listed together, as if they are one entity. In fact, some episodes may center on the fact that they can’t live without each other. […] If this is a case of Brains and Brawn, the Big Guy is usually the Brawn, and the Little Guy the Brains. It’s almost never the other way around, but in some cases the Big Guy can be rather smart too. […]

A sub-type of this, a common favorite here on Tumblr is known as “small chaotic big calm” and hoo boy if that isn’t these two. I don’t really have much to say here - again I am not an expert.

Part 3: Fandom Impact

So you don’t think Red Oktoberfest (as Heavymedic is sometimes called) is super popular on anywhere else than Tumblr? Wrong.

It’s hard to find TF2 fics on Archive of Our Own not tagged with Heavy/Medic. Of course most of them only contain hints to their relationship but go in the main tf2 tag and I can guarantee you, you’ll gonna see “implied heavy/medic” all the time.

But these two go further than AO3 or Tumblr or Instagram or whatever. They are recognized even within the wider circle of the fanbase. Take this SFM, for example. (I am using the Saxxy Awards version of Secret Lives here mostly due to the fact that the Heavymedic moment is much gayer. In the normal version, the dialogue isn’t changed, but they simply hold hands.)

But it gets deeper. (WARNING: THE GAY MOMENT IN THIS ONE IS NSFW. NOT EXPLICITLY SO BUT JUST A HEADS UP TUMBLR PLEASE DO NOT FLAG ME)

And the best part? The comments are extremely positive. You’d expect hoards upon hoards of homophobes screeching but no, the comments are supportive. Even on places such as Reddit or Youtube, comments like “yeah they’re gay and in love” do not get downvoted/disliked to hell; in fact the opposite.

Part 4: Canon Status

Let’s be real. Most ships are shipped because people want to explore the dynamics in fanfic, fanart or something else. But Heavymedic is shipped because… well, I have no idea.

Actually, I kind of do - but only theories. You see, while the canonical evidence is here, the creators have never said anything about them. No confirmation, no disproval, no hinting, nothing.

But the ship is so prominent! There has to be something causing this!- you say. And to that I present you 2 theories on why Heavy/Medic is so popular.

Theory number 1 states that we simply all choose to interpret their interactions as homoerotic. And this is very easy to disprove - there’s simply no way we just collectively agreed on these matters out of nothing. There has to be something bigger.

And theory 2 states that, well, our interpretation is the desired interpretation. But this is even more ridiculous than theory 1 for a number of reasons. If they are in fact gay, why hasn’t Valve made them canon yet?

A Theoretical Scenario

I am going to ramble big time on this one, so buckle up lads. I’ll discuss a theoretical scenario in which, well, if that was not obvious, Valve confirms Heavymedic as canon. Maybe then we will see why they will probably never do so.

TF2 is considered by typical capital G, alt-right Gamers as a “non-political” game. This means no women (in the game itself, at least, and if even, sexy women only), no queer folk and no minorities (for some reason they accept Demoman but throw a fit if someone draws any other merc as not being pearl white). Team Fortress 2 was around before Gamergate and other things like Gamers Rise Up. It’s a classic and Valve is regarded as the good guy to Epic Game’s bad guy. If Valve did anything to confirm doubts, wherther it be clearing up popular fanon or confirming ships, these people would throw hands. (Although they seemed to ignore when one of the writers confirmed Miss Pauling is a lesbian. Huh.) Even those that don’t play TF2 would come to the aid of their bros.

Let me illustrate with two very similar examples. In both cases these confirmations were the first made by the company as a whole, both are fairly recent and both confirm a character as gay.

First we have the confirmation of Tracer from Overwatch as a lesbian. It was done in one of OVW’s comics. Tracer is the FACE of Overwatch as a whole and while most of the fanbase accepted it (thankfully the Gamers are reluctant to infest ow), some people threw what I can only describe as a hissy fit. At least her girlfriend’s a background character.

Second is Neeko from League of Legends. Unlike Tracer she was added a while before it was confirmed she was gay. LOL is much more toxic and filled with Gamers than OW and holy shit people smeared LOL so much.

Of course these are not accurate to Heavy/Medic. In both of the cases I listed it was girls being wlw and we all know how much cisgender heterosexual gamers LOVE yuri porn. Apparently only girls can be gay because they can jack off to it - if it’s two guys then it’s disgusting. Nevertheless I think these are good approximations - in every case the company gets “shat on” on social media and other sites. With the community that Valve has, I think even if they wanted them to be gay, they would never ever confirm it.

Conclusion

I’m sorry for that ending. I had to theorize a bit. Regardless I’d love if you shared this on other sites, reblogged or whatever - I wasted at least 1 and a half hours of my life on it. Feel free to cite this as a source if someone asks you why you ship the big heavy weapons expert and the feral battle medic.

#my post #text post #tf2 #medic #heavy #heavymedic #long post

[vincedeangelo]

At a glance he may look like Grant Gustin but in reality they’re just 213 year old Vince De’Angelo, a witch here in Barton Hallow. They are a lone witch. They work as a professor of Horticulture and Biological Sciences here in town and are known for being energetic and distracted. I’d watch my back if I were you..

[History]

Saying that life has been complicated for Vince is a bit of an understatement. It didn’t start that way, but it didn’t start easily either. Being born at the middle of the 18th century in Europe to a distinctly Bohemian traveling family, his parents were already well aware of a long vein of magic running through the family tree, his several siblings and half siblings could attest to that much, but most of that magic was rooted into nature. Vince grew up in comfortable chaos, happy enough for the most part, within the shelter of a large family who looked after each other and, while facing a great deal of downward glances from the rest of society, were themselves excellent at thriving and enjoying life with very little in hand.

It was what, in later times, might be compared more to the lifestyle of a hippie commune once the family did finally settle in an area of Britain and became, more or less, the farming, earth-worshiping sorts. Which was all well and good, that slow pace wasn’t as appealing to Vince’s teenage self though and he sort of laments that he did take off when he had to see more of the world; the things he saw weren’t exactly pleasant. It did very little to unsettle his excitable, eager personality but more than a few times he made a mess of his efforts out in the world.

It wasn’t until his twenties that he began to test his magic more, at that point much of his time was spend engrossed in the the developing underbelly of London and how strangely different it was than his own upbringing. It was there that he met the person, or rather the vampire, who became his best friend in very short order. Unconventional, yes, but the two spent more than their fair share of time discussing philosophy, life and the world around them. They were inseparable. At such a pivotal point in his life Vince directed his studies towards darker magic, seeing no fear in exploring the limits of them at the urging of the vampire. It was the start of his studies as a necromancer, and one of the point of his life he still looks back very fondly on.

It seemed almost impossible to imagine but as close as they were, as much adoration Vince had for his dearest friend and companion, but that bond became strained when the prospects of relocating became as necessity. The world, again, was changing drastically, and becoming less kind to those who were not human but especially the undead in London. A few murders in the area had suspicions heavy and Vince saw it as the chance to finally leave Europe to see the States, but his friend wanted nothing to do with the idea. The xenophobia of walking into a seemingly new and hostile place was too much, the arguments spiked and eventually they split paths; Vince hopeful to change their mind later but left the argument unresolved.

Always far too trusting a soul, and lonely, Vince became involved shortly after in a particularly determined coven under the name of the Children of the Silent Voice; a group of witches who were mostly like himself and held necromantic or otherwise ‘dark’ magic as their most honed abilities. He believed that magic wasn’t evil in any form, that like anything it held a place in the balance. They recruited him under the guise of crafting a safe haven for those like themselves and Vince devoted years to helping them find other witches via communication with spirits. The breaking point came when the coven was attacked by Hunters, forcing Vince’s hand with the situation, giving him little choice but to step outside the realms of peace and right into bloodshed. He thought his intentions were good, thought his efforts held purpose in helping those like himself who suffered the cruelty of humans' fear of magic.

Something was deeply wrong though, and it began his reign as second to the High Priestess of the coven; the bloodiest time in his life. It built around him a reputation that still lingers now; he was a destructive force, the constant tip of power. After all, winning was easy when the fallen were your’s to reanimate and command against your enemies. He existed as a figure of terror, caught up in the fog that was those confusing years.

It was all for nothing, in the end. During one of his attacks on a village that had, supposedly, destroyed several witches, Vince picked up a particularly stubborn spirit that wouldn’t leave him alone. She persisted, a nightmare that haunted him in ways that others hadn’t managed, a lost child who perished before her time. Her misery broke that daze, finally, and forced him to take a step back and view what he had been doing, the horrible things that had left stains on his hands. His mind had been twisted by those he followed, and he finally saw that truth. When he approached the Priestess with his doubts she dismissed him as a traitor, banished him from their ranks and he was almost relieved to flee. His last act before leaving Europe behind was to urge the spirit who had followed him to move on, and once she had he decided it was time for him to do the same.

Living through the 19th century in the States was certainly an experience, one he absolutely would not have traded for anything else. Seeing both the best and the worst of what people were capable of was an eye-opening view of the world, and he naturally developed a certain fondness for the eighties and its’ flower-child mentality that reminded him so much at home. He bounced around, joined a cult or two out of curiosity, wandered off when he grew tired of it, even played a few lighthearted attempts at using his power to help people communicate with their lost loved ones but mostly maintained a human image as the growing uneasiness with the supernatural turned from tension to a sudden war.

One Vince wanted no part in, purposely avoiding to take sides on the matter and acting under the ideal that it was never going to solve anything. Having known real horror and being the cause of it before, he was approached time and again to join the ranks of various covens and groups but refused each time, no longer willing to be a part of such things. He expected it to settle down in a few years but they never did and the battles just kept hitting too close for comfort and sending him darting off to the next spot in search in peace. It never lasted long enough, but he just kept trying, looking for the silver lining and the end of that conflict that never seemed to come.

When rumors of Barton Hollow stirred up they caught his interest, the possibility of a new start in a place where he wouldn’t be constantly accosted for involvement in the bloodshed sounded wonderful. It was an easy choice and he quickly set off to what he hoped would be his new home for a while; in short order setting himself up as a professor at the college thanks to his handful of degrees earned over time and making himself useful to the local magic using community with his flair for cultivating wickedly dangerous plants and herbs.

Vince can be a bit much at times. He’s excitable, not at all reserved, and tends to ramble. That rambling may turn a million different directions in one conversation; he’s quite a mess about it. But he adores people; living, dead, human or otherwise. He’s very quickly becoming a relatively well known figure around the Hollow for his cheerful presence and willingness to engage people around him. It’s a sharp contrast to the history written in such bloody terms, but he doesn’t hide it. He’s open enough about his mistakes, but he certainly hopes that people understand that the past isn’t the measure of what a person is but who they were before they knew better.

As for that past, by all accounts Vince is considered one of the stronger necromancers left in the world, and one who has practiced dark magic for a very long time. Plenty of people seek him out for those skills and he does lend them to causes he thinks are going to do some positive change, but by the large his power is only used in small ways anymore. He can reanimate the dead but has learned the agony of what it costs to both himself and the poor soul, can communicate with the dead and does so when he needs information, and he knows an unsettling but rather effective way of stealing the last sights and few moments of death from a corpse's eyes. Not something to witness if you have a weak stomach. Of course he can also destroy life with a shocking amount of ease. But as someone who values life a great deal and knows the worth of it, he is far more careful in his practices these days.

While it really has very little to do with his abilities as a witch, he is known around town by the covens and the lone witches alike as the person who has an impressive garden of plants and herbs that are fairly lethal. He carefully tends to plants that are highly toxic, have properties that are considered dangerous and drug-like, and those that other witches use in spell craft but cannot access very easily because of their dangerous nature. He willingly offers this rare and deadly flora to those in need of it regardless of coven association, if he’s sure their intentions aren’t to use them in a malicious way. Just don’t try to steal his plants, that hits a nerve you don’t want to rub too thin.

Much of his gift for, and interest in, gardening and plants comes from growing up helping his mother and grandmother raise their garden in his earliest years. Those fond memories fuel his care in that work, but of course his magic influences much of his life so it seems like his real talent in the area is with those deadly species more than their mundane counterparts.

He has a pet cactus named Jared that makes the trek between his classroom on campus and his home in the downtown region of the Hollow daily; Jared is very well looked after and is a standard sort of his species. Nothing all too extraordinary to Jared, but Vince does enjoy putting little hats and costumes on him for various holidays and events the same way most people would dress up a pet. Jared has the distinction of being carried to and from home every day, Vince insists it would be cruel to just leave the poor thing all alone in the classroom at night.

Vince is demisexual, polyamorous; he's fairly unbiased to the gender of his partners though he tends to favor men a bit more, it certainly doesn't sway his interests too much from the rest of the gender spectrum. He’s had an interesting go with relationships in life but nothing ever stuck for long. His list of ex’s run the range but for the most part the breakups were civil, if awkward on his part, ones. He still maintains friendships with a few of them without much drama, still the occasional night spent in their company, but for the most part he’s been solitary for a good twenty or so years by his own choice. Having spent that time burying himself in education and the fascinating scientific world that has surged in the 20th century that took up most of his time. He’s very friendly but painfully awkward at the basic ability to recognize that people are interested in him, and equally bad at making his own interests known because by the large he doesn’t view intimate situations as solely outside the lines of friendships and his tendency to blur the two has made for some amusingly skewed situations in the past.

He is intensely afraid of small spaces; graves absolutely terrify him and any enclosed space causes him to panic. The reasoning lies in some of his conditioning early on in his necromatic practices when he accidentally managed to get himself trapped during the exploration of an older graveyard; the underground tunnels beneath it at one point collapsed and he was unable to escape. He was lucky that another witch who was mentoring him at the time found him but it instilled lifelong terror in him.

Vince loves to read, he’s been around a long while, he absolutely is enamored with knowledge and the creativity of people. It doesn’t matter what; from the most coveted early century tome to the most hilariously badly written new trashy romance novel; he reads with the sort of determined fervor that keeps him constantly hunting for new books. The internet, for that reason, is something else he loves; there’s always endless distraction on there.

He’s not the typical image for a necromancer but he hardly thinks that’s a bad thing. His students in particular he has a soft spot for, generally willing to go out of his way to do what he can if they need help. But really that extends to most people; he’s just a cheerful, upbeat sort who tries not to dwell too much on the bad. He’s also horribly clumsy at it though, but he’s good at laughing at his mistakes.

Vince misses being part of a coven, but even with the urging of those in the Hollow he hasn’t agree to join any of them. The past has made him wary of the intentions of leaders, and he doesn’t want to be a pawn once more. He’s toyed with the idea of starting his own but dismissed the possibility with the certainty that even as acting as second to someone he trusted as fully as he would have to another Priestess it’s unlikely anyone would be comfortable with someone with his power in that role, especially not with the shape the world in in with the ongoing war.

[Wanted Connections] To be vastly expanded on later, but to give a jumping off point for plotting: 

Vampire he used to be best friends with. 

Someone older than himself (213), was in Europe/London in those early years, and would have had a very close friendship with Vince. Basically the person he considered his companion and other half of sorts; he misses them very much but hasn’t seen them in a long time. They had a bit of a falling out over Vince’s involvement in the Silent Voice Coven back in the day and after the dust settled with all of that Vince went to the states and lost all contact with his friend.  This person would know a great deal about Vince, would have been about as close as anyone could be, and very much needs to be back in Vince’s life again. 

Siblings/Half Siblings

Vince had a large family, several of whom were witches themselves. He may have younger or older siblings or half siblings around, or could have werewolf or vampire siblings now depending on if they were human to begin with and were turned. He’s lost track of family over time but would remember them, this is very open to ideas and different sorts of sibling relationships. He was always an odd one in the family. 

Witches looking to recruit him for various reasons. 

The war, past or present tense, the covens, just in general. Vince has a lot of power, an unsettling amount in fact, but he’s actively avoided involvement with the covens aside from his supplying them with various plants and herbs since he’s moved to Barton when it first was established. Good intentions or bad; people who put that pressure on him to join them. 

Someone human he can ‘adopt’. 

Really Vince has a soft spot for humans, he finds them fascinating really and admires their drive in what amounts to such short lives. Someone he’s grown fond of in a brotherly sort of way and keeps an eye on, helps, and basically just tries to keep out of trouble. Bonus points if they are in fact a lot of trouble to deal with. 

People who know his past too well. 

There’s nothing all that hidden about Vince’s past and how bloody it was, but he’s put it mostly behind him. Some people haven’t, and some people like to give him grief over the idea that people can’t change. This person is an ongoing source of exhaustion for him but he’s toughing it out, trying to make them see the good; but it’s not easy. 

Someone who knows his worst secret

Lots of witches use magic to lengthen their lives, but for those with necromanic abilities the spells are particularity gruesome. Vince did something a long time past that he isn’t too eager for others to know, for the sake of keeping his own life thriving well past his mortal years, but this person, somehow, has managed to get that knowledge. With that comes a degree of power over him, for the sake of keeping that secret. A dark fae he traded a favor to ensure his life never ended naturally, another witch he sought out for a spell that he never should have; I'm open to ideas on this one.

Hunters 

Vince is a necromancer, a rather well known one. Over time he's come across people who have wanted to destroy him but has managed to evade them well enough. But this one is out for blood, maybe because of a contract, maybe his actions in the past did something to harm their family line, maybe they just really can't stand dark magic. Whatever the case it's a hard situation for Vince, not wanting to kill again but also very resolute on the idea of not dying. 

#bartonintro #vince:intro

[vegetacide]

Whump●tober - Explosion

Veg-notables:   For whumptober. This one kind wrote itself and I wrote it a$$ backwards starting with the end and filling in the rest.   It ended up longer than I expected so I apologize in advance for the word spewage - The boys wanted to banter so I let ‘em. 

As always,  thanks to @gumnut-logic for her help hashing out the plot. 

Obligatory whumptober stuff: @whumptober2019 @la-vie-en-whump

Blanket warning:   Its gonna get hot. 

Characters:  Virgil,  Alan, Scott and Johnny. 

Whumptober - TaG universe

2. Explosion

Enjoy...

oOo

“Thunderbird Two to command”

“Go ahead, V. What’s your status?”

“Hey, we’re almost done on the South end of the factory but it’s slow going. The smoke and the super structure of this place is screwing with our scans so we’re having to back track.”

“I’ll see if there’s anything John can do on his end to clear it up. Find anything?”

Virgil shook his head before he realized that Scott couldn’t see him. “It’s what I haven’t found that disturbing me. What the hell happened to the fire suppression system?”

“Not sure. Both John and the GDF confirmed this facility was registered as meeting requirements on its last inspection.  It’s a question I am going to be posing to the CEO once he’s done showboating for the media hounds.” 

“Well, wait for me.  I would love to hear the answer.”

He got a chuckle from the other end of the open comm. “I’ll see what I can do.  Get back at it and check in with me in five.. Or if you find anything.”

“Will do.”  The comm channel clicked off and Virgil turned as his youngest brother appeared in the doorway at his back with a tote bag full of suppression grenades.

They were making their way through what was left of a chemical manufacturing plant that had seen better days.  They’d received a request for assistance in the early hours of the morning as flames has shot some fifty feet above the roof line. The noxious fumes of the burning cocktail of who knew what  that wafted out had been pushed by a North Eastern to the neighbouring township.  Forcing the local services to call for the immediate evacuation of the 8, 962 residents.  

During the course of the evacuation Scott had been roped in to help shuttle while Virigl and Alan had stayed behind to help with containment.  For the most part the fire out due to their specialized gear and a fire retardant foam that Brains had concocted for just this scenario.  

Now though they had to pick their way through the smoldering remains to search for survivors who could be holed up in any of the emergency fire shelters that were scattered around the confusing maze of corridors that made up the complex.  

The installation of a mobile ventilation system was doing it best to clear out the contaminants and particulates polluting the air but the smoke was still hung heavy over the hulking, burnt out husk of a factory which meant that Virgil and Alan had to do the majority of the foot work themselves. 

The place had to be cleared back to the GDF before they would risk the lives of any of the local crews on clean up.    

“How’s are inventory?”  He asked by way of greeting and turned to focus on the holographic schematics of the building that were hovering above his wrist unit. 

“Depleting but we should have enough.”  Alan dropped the bag at his brother’s feet and started redistributing the spherical concussion bombs  into Virgil’s bag.  “We’ll have to start using these sparingly.” 

Virgil rubbed a hand over his sooty visor, “Well looks like the fire is contained in this section. Should just be a matter of snuffing out hot spots to prevent flare up from here on out.  

Alan nodded in understanding and pushed up to his feet. His eyebrow cocked when he noticed a look passed over Virgil’s face. He stepped closer in inquiry. “You get something?”

Virgil’s brows furrowed in concentration. “Not sure,  think I saw a blip over in the North East corner, back by the biochem labs.”

“We went through there though.”  His brother stated. “The area was clear.”

“We must have missed something.”  Grabbing his bag off the floor, he flung it over his shoulder.  “Better go back and check it out again. This place had a lot of staff and the numbers haven’t come in from the department supervisors yet.  We can’t be sure everyone got out.”  

Alan managed to just barely suppress a pout and Virgil bumped his shoulder brotherly as he stepped around him.  “Come on, Rocket Boy. Sooner we get this done the sooner you will be back home killing Zombies and scarfing down veggie sticks.” 

Virgil grinned as his brother grumbled out.  “It’s Rocket Man, thank you very much.”  

“Hey Squirt, when you can see over the dash of Two I’ll start referring to you as ‘Man’.. Until then,  your stuck.”  He dodges a swat from his baby brother.  Friendly ribbing aside they had a job to do but it helped relieve some of the stress. 

Back on task, they headed out back down the blackened corridor, ducking under hanging ceiling lights and stepped over fallen ceiling tiles and other assorted debris.  

The track back across the rat’s maze of hallways and cross corridors, through disengaged mag-locked doors and over a rather rickety catwalk that spanned  ash covered vats; their tops having blown off during the blaze, took far longer than Virgil would have liked.   

He knew they were running low on time with the GDF circling outside looking for answers and the local authorities eager to start their investigation into the cause of the fire Virgil needed to find a way to pick up their pace.  

Stopping to orient himself, Virgil check his wrist comm again. “This place is way too complicated for a private sector supplier.”   He said this offhandedly and wasn’t expecting a response back in kind from the blonde at his six.  He got one anyways. 

“Maybe it’s a top secret government think tank where they brew up all sorts of crazy potions for world domination.”

Virgil snorted and nodded off to the left. “Down here.” Flicking on his shoulder mount, the high powered beam lit up the windowless corridor.  “Ya right. Do you honestly think the Black Suits would let us in here if it were. Even with our affiliations with the GDF we would be lucky to get within ten miles of this place.”

“Cover up.”  Alan tossed out with a shrug. “Who really knows how these government spook organizations work.”

Virgil shook his head and turned down a short set of stairs and stopped abruptly at a large set of blast doors.  “You spend way too much time surfing the conspiracy sites.” 

“Everyone needs a hobby.” 

Rolling his eyes, he tapped his comm line open. “Scott, we got something.”  

“10-4.  Talk to me ”  

Virgil knew his brother was following their progress from his ‘bird along with John floating around up in space.  “Looks like another fire proof room but I can’t find it on the schematics.”  

John’s voice cut in with no preamble. “Those were the ones that were provided to the local planning board with the factories last retrofit.  They should be up to date.” 

“Well, from where I am standing,”  Virgil rapped a padded knuckle on the heavy door, “They are inaccurate and I can’t get a read on what’s on the other side. ”  

“One moment,”  John sounded a bit peeved.  Virgil knew he hated inaccuracy and the ineptitude of lazy people not doing their jobs, making stupid mistake drove him bat shit crazy. 

Virgil inspected the door and the surrounding area and pointed back down the corridor.   “Check around the corner and see if there is an electrical closet would ya? Or a service panel?  Door this big is magnetically sealed so a power relay is needed. ”  

“Like it would be on this side of it? Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose?”  Alan asked 

“If it’s not in use it will be powered from out here for maintenance purposes.  Once activated though its self sufficient and it disconnects from the external source for preventative reasons.”  Like opening up to a massive blaze or a toxic chemical spill. 

Alan zipped off around the corner, his comm line active so they could keep in communication with one another as per S.O.P when on site. 

“What do you think is in there?”  Alan’s voice sounded in his ear,  he was still close enough that it echoed a bit with a tiny time delay as it went through their secure network.

Virgil tweaked the volume and went back to inspection the door and the coded palm reader that was a charred mess to the right of it.   “First guess is it’s another fire room but considering its not on spec…who knows.” 

Scott’s voice chimed in,   “I’m done playing taxi.  Last patient has been dropped at the next closest hospital.  I’ll have a word with the CEO and Colonel Casey when I am back on site in ten.. Get us some answers as to what the hell is going on.” 

“Roger that.”    

Alan appeared back at his side.  “Nothing.”  

Virgil frowned at the door and ripped the charred panel from the wall to expose the mass of surprisingly undamaged wires behind it.  “This isn’t adding up..”  

Pulling out a network access key from his baldric,  Virgil started pulling wires.  “Hey Johnny,  I got a hack job for you if your done angrily tearing the local civil servants a new one.”

“Patch me in.”

“Yup, working on it now. “ Stripping a few wires, he tested to see if there was power to them and hooked them up to the small device. “You find the idiot that misfiled those docs?” 

“Not yet,”  Came the disgruntled sign of annoyance.  “Eos is working on it.”  

“Ouch.. that’s gonna hurt.” Virgil could hear the evil glee in the red heads voice and almost felt sorry for the poor bastard that was going to get steam rolled once he was found. 

The small device in his hand flared to life and just as suddenly the door before him hissed as the locking system released. “Wow, that was fast.”

“That wasn’t me.” 

Virgil blinked and locked eyes with Alan.  “Understood,  keep an eye on things for me would ya? We’re going in.”

“Be careful, Thunderbird Two. Picking up weird anomalies from the other side.”

“Roger, stand by.” 

It took both of them to pull the heavy door open, boots finding little purchase on the foam slicked floor.  Braced against the wall with one final heave the mighty steel portal swung up just wide enough for them to pass through one at a time.   Standing in the opening,  Virgil peered into the space beyond, eyes narrowing when a curious distortion caused the air to waver 

Virgil’s eyes widened as what he was seeing registered with the still smoldering remnants in the corridor.  He only had seconds to push Alan out of the way before all hell broke loose. 

The ensuing conflagration of heat knocked the breath from Virgil’s lungs as he was tossed like a rag doll through burning ozone.  The sudden and abrupt stop as his body met wall caused pain to burst across his whole nervous system and left him a whimpering heap on the floor.  

The world grayed out around the edges but one thing kept him just his side of blissful oblivion,  the thought of his little brother.   

By sheer force of will  he commanded his lungs to start working again and with a reserve of energy he didn’t know he had, he lifted his torso off the floor, stars flashing across his retinas.

Coughing,  he dragged himself across the floor ears straining against the buzz of a million bees as he called out for his sibling. His voice hoarse and tinny to his whirring ear drums.  

“Alan!! Thunderbird Two to anyone!”  He was panicking and he knew it wasn’t helping but he had to find his baby brother.  “Alan, god where are you?  Answer me”

The visibility was completely next to none existent as smoke billowed out from whatever the room behind the blast doors had been.   Flames scorching and white hot licked with renewed strength up the previously foamed walls with a growing intensity that he could feel through the protection of his fire gear and sweat trickled down the length of his spine.  He had to get them out of here. 

Oh god, where was his brother?

“Scott?  Scott, I can’t find Allie…”  Padding around on all fours as close to the ground as he could he reached out in every direction. Pushing singed debris and refuse out to the way as he search.

Coughing again, a fine spray of blood peppered across his visor but he wouldn’t give up, he couldn’t.  

The hand that landed suddenly on his shoulder had his heart stuttering to a stop in his throat. The flash of red and that grabbed at his helmet kick started it back over again.

“Allie, oh thank God.”  

“I’m okay but my comms are down. We gotta get out of here.”

Virgil nodded his agreement. Pushing up to a crouch, hell fire raining down around them, he look left and right to try and gauge the best direction to take. He gave his head a shake when the world greyed out around the edges of his vision and shot a hand out to brace himself against his brother’s shoulder.  

“You okay, Virg?”

An odd expression passed over Virgil’s face as time seemed to crawl to a stop. The flames of the fire all around them stilling, the heat fading away and an odd, surreal chill slowly encompassed his body, radiating up his torso and slowly suffusing his limbs. 

His thoughts grew distance as the center of the chill started to thaw with an excruciating burn and he looked down.  What the…?The echo of confusion cut off abruptly as his gloved hand came away dark and wet.

“Oh god. Virgil, hang on..”  Were the last words he heard before Earth reared up and hit him hard. 

oOo

Next part HERE

The Master List of prompts can be found HERE

#whumptober #whumptober2019 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbird fanfic #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #alan tracy #John Tracy #first responders #space bagel #thunderbird two #thunderbird one #thunderbird 3 #thunderbird 5 #no.2 #prompt fic #the prompt made me do it #ouch #explosion #too many tags #omg make it stop

[talesfromtheindigoghost]

Good Intentions: Entry 4

The noise ringing through my mind was like trying to tell someone you were on the phone with about a movie, only to get tired of explaining and just held the phone up to the TV.

Screams of the thing in front of me’s regret rang through my skull, a hateful symphony of slammed doors and shattered lives pounding to the melody of a poorly tuned violin accompanying a macabre dance. Every demon I had imagined when I started shampooing my hair had made itself known to me with desperate hunger and empty hatred.

Before I could even begin to think of an appropriate way to react the thing closes the short distance from the door to the tub and sends me slamming against the freezing cold porcelain with an unintended shoulder tackle.

You ever get that moment of panic when you’re in the shower? That sudden sense of dread that convinces you that you’re about to slip and break your neck at any given moment? It’s usually inspired by dropping something or not feeling as completely sure footed as you expected to in that half a moment that feels exactly like leaning too far back in your chair and realizing you’re teetering over the edge.

My inspiration let out a horrifying and meaty screech as flecks of toxic bile and tar flew out of its dish water oatmeal mouth. An uncomfortably thick and hot mound of quivering mush violently ripped open, only to clamp down just as suddenly onto my shoulder. The dull pressure shocked me far more than any tooth or claw ever could, the thing’s obsessive jaw, or what’s passing for it, suddenly becoming a gross tourniquet as it kept me pinned against the wall.

I have no idea who I’m so furious with, whose very existence drags me to the depths of hell and its boiling lakes of rage. I can feel every bit of the thing that used to be someone’s grudge, every idle thought of dark violence or worse tightens its inhuman vice grip as I let out my own howling screaming. I hear the bone in my arm splinter before I start to feel it a solid moment later.

The radio static in my skull hisses louder, an ear piercing electronic squeal resonates through my mind until the picture comes into the view. I can hear the person this thing used to be sobbing into a glass of water after their final meal. I can taste all of the chemicals and poisons the water washes down. I can feel myself swallowing my own hatred, seething from the very depths of my soul that my death poisons someone else with regret.

The crushing creaking of my arm snaps me back to reality with a sickening pop. I hear something heavy and wet slap against the edge of the tub.

I’ve been through a lot of physical traumas in my life. Fifty times back and forth, after all, I would say it’s downright reasonable to assume I have. They were always relatively quick and painless. Slow and quiet. The kinds of things your mind doesn’t like to let itself dwell on for too long or else it’ll just ruin your day. My point is that I’ve experienced pain and shock before.

I’ve never experienced losing an arm.

I don’t care for that shit one bit, now that I think about it.

We scream together, the noises blurring together with the crashing red river pouring out of where my arm used to be. I found myself lost in that indescribable haze of death I had gotten so familiar with over the years. Blindly feeling my way through the darkness and confusion of being confronted by the monsters of our mistakes, like a starving beast that stumbled into the open back door of a butcher’s shop during payday.

Whoever the person this thing used to be had died alone. I know his life story the moment I sink my teeth into its neck in sheer desperation. His poisonous entitlement flood my mouth with tar and the deep, hateful taste of his woeful sexual frustration. I chew through waterlogged grey flesh covering my prize, the demon’s intruding desires to flay and gnash the skin of the women that denied him.

I feel everything within me become violent disgust. I live through every excruciating moment of the person this thing used to be’s life and turn around to see reality coming to splash ice water down my exposed spine. I experience the sensation of being a monster. I feel the warm blood pour over me as I end lives after I’ve violated them. I feast on their fear as they beg me for mercy. I grow drunk on the power of denying it. I crave more, I demand more. I deserve more. They should be grateful that I they had the opportunity to make me feel good.

I feel my pride and power melt away as I read the letter from someone who knows what I am.

I realize that even in death this monster can’t help but violate people.

My stomach growls and I remember my hunger.

I bite through the thin, pathetically weak vine of black licorice and feel its entire body go limp and slide away from me. The haze of death lifts like rain clouds after a storm and lets the shining sun and rainbows of euphoria fill me with an inner sense of peace and balance as I understand that this accursed demon will no longer torment the innocent.

It felt great, right up until I noticed that I was being pulled down by the dissolving blackened carcass that no longer pinned me up against the tiles. It took me half a moment to understand that I no longer had an arm to catch myself before I fall and break my neck on the side of the bath tub.

I close my eyes as the second half of the moment is spent accepting what was about to happen.

I never remember how I get here. Not at first, at least.

It’s always the same, yet it feels like it’s the first time this has ever happened.

At least, I thought so at first. I’m not alone this time. The person that thing used to be had taken its place on the ground beside me, both of us climbing to our feet in front of that gaudy gated community and its obnoxiously overstated security gate.

I look up from the jarring sight of my whole, intact arm and notice that Peter is already on his walkie talkie with a look that shows he’s just as surprised to see me as I am to be here. My gut tenses, the lead weight of anger yanks my guts into my knees and spills the contents of my heart from my mouth in a bloody and furious geyser of righteous ire.

“What in the fuck are you doing here?”

I roar at the pathetic monster whose sins had just torn my arm off and broke my neck. I don’t even feel myself hesitate from marching up to Peter’s desk and slamming my fist down on top of the golden “Ring For Service” bell situated right in front of the nervous man awaiting a response on his radio.

“What in the fuck is he doing here?”

Peter stammered and fumbled over his words, his eyes darting back and forth between the monster and I in apparent confusion, weakly shirking the responsibility of an answer through halfhearted shrugs and another plead into his walkie talkie for someone to come to the gate.

I’m so insulted at the notion that this monster, this vile and unforgivable creature, is even allowed to approach what appears to be heaven. I’m so angry that I don’t even care that we’re both still completely nude and, even further unnoticed, whole and human once more.

Not even the soothing hymns floating serenely through the golden breeze, lighting up the clouds softly with its love and profound purpose could distract me from the overwhelming indignation of knowing the monster responsible for every single one of its horrific life experiences that I had been made to relive was being entertained the opportunity to plead for entry into what I can only assume is a peaceful eternity.

Peter and I were so caught up in this sudden, unexpected confrontation that neither of us had noticed the sorry excuse for what may be considered human trying to jump the shimmering gold fence. It wasn’t until I saw it wobbling and threatening to bend forward under the murderer’s weight that I understood just how flimsy and decorative the fence itself was.

Whatever either of us were about to say or do was violently interrupted by the sound of three rapid gunshots as the monster’s chest exploded outward into a spray of meaty confetti across the clouds and its head simply ceased to be.

In the blink of an eye he, and any evidence of the scene that had just unfolded vanished. Out of sight, and just as suddenly, out of mind.

I turn just in time to see a cowboy proudly slipping a golden six-shooter back into an ornate fast draw holster around his waist. He shoots me a wink and tips his ten gallon hat with a knowing grin, the ringing in my ears easing and fading into an easily dismissed memory of annoyance. It’s easy to see that Peter is just as stunned as I am at how abruptly this situation has been forcefully diffused

I find myself holding my hands up in uncertainty, an unease I don’t think I’ve ever felt in the times I’ve been here. I take a bit of comfort in seeing that I’m not the only one here that’s uncomfortable as the tall, intimidating law man steps forward with both hands resting confidently around a huge, audacious belt buckle in the shape of a shining star emblazoned with a flaming sword.

“Well howdy there, fellas.”

Peter stands up straight and adjusts his suspenders and name tag, coughing lightly in an attempt to find his bearings with a stern, yet frazzled face.

“It took you long enough. I specifically asked you to try and be here before either of them got here.”

It wasn’t hard to see how little this towering cowboy cared about punctuality with the casual, yet shockingly firm way he clapped a hand onto my shoulder in near perfect time with the gate swinging open to welcome us both.

“You and I need to have a talk about the mess you’ve got yourself into, son.” His words hit me like a series of left hooks and dazzling footwork, sending me into a stumbling stupor and making it all the easier for the strange figure with all the charisma and commanding presence of the toughest sheriff in all of the wild wild west.

I manage to break the trance for a moment as we approach another office just beyond an unrecognizable wall of clouds that the obnoxiously golden gate were built into. I can’t seem to get the words out but thankfully stopping in your tracks with an expression of confusion is fairly universal, even here.

“Right, I’m gettin’ ahead of myself. Introductions.”

Before I know it, his strong and powerful hand is gripping me in a handshake that overwhelms me with its command for respect. The kind of strength that makes a man tremble in awe and question every single one of his life choices.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, I’m a fan of your work. You can call me Michael.”

--

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#Good Intentions #Horror #Fiction #horror story #writing #cw: suicide mention #cw: abuse

[17caratfics]

Third Time’s A Charm

This is my (late) Day 3 submission for the Caratober prompt project. This was also supposed to be the first scenario I was working on for this blog but of course nothing goes as planned. Happy October Carats!

           “Hocus pocus,” a low voice sounded in your ear. You jumped up, clutching at the front of your chest and glared at the creature who had suddenly appeared.

           “My god, Seungcheol,” you hissed. “Stop doing that.” The figure in front of you gave you a wry grin as he put his hands up in mock surrender. “It’s high noon. Shouldn’t you be melting by now?”

           Immediately, the smile on his face fell as he took a step closer. “I thought we’ve been through this a million and one times now. Vampires don’t melt when we see the sun. And we don’t sparkle. We only prefer to be at night because it’s easier to feed on our prey.” He said the last few words menacingly low. “And garlic doesn’t scare us either,” he added upon seeing the garlic bulbs you were making appear in your hands. “As a witch, how can you be so ignorant about your fellow mythical creatures? You don’t see me walking around asking why you’re not flying about with a broomstick between your legs.”

           “There’s a difference. We are actually human with special abilities. You, you’re an aberration.”

           The vampire’s ridiculously full lips slid into a pout. “Now that was mean and insensitive. Didn’t they teach you at Hogwarts not to be a bully?”

           Your patience for the annoying blood sucker was running low. “Excuse me. You may have eternity to mill around and do nothing, but I’m on a bit of a time crunch. I need to go.”

           “Why do you dislike me so much?”

           Despite your previous hurry to leave, his words made you pause. Glancing back, you saw that he looked genuinely upset. “I d-don’t,” you stuttered before blushing a deep red. You didn’t owe him an explanation. “Just stop showing up randomly all the time. You’re annoying.” And with that, you quickly walked away.

           The truth was Seungcheol bothered you. But not in the way you made it seem. Yes, he enjoyed teasing you. But, as far as vampires went, he wasn’t so bad. At least he wasn’t out to get your blood. You’ve ran into the darker of his kind and was lucky that magical blood was quite repulsive to them or who knew how you would have ended up. It was less that he annoyed you but that he made you feel things you didn’t enjoy feeling.

           Ever since you opened up your own potions and charms shop, he would constantly loiter in your store, keeping you company late at night when the rest of the world has gone to sleep. He would guise it under the pretense of waiting for his next feed but he never once glanced at the humans who wandered in, some drunk and curious, some just thinking this whole magic shop thing was a hoax. Instead, he’d keep his focus on you in sometimes an unnerving way, but always teasing. Seungcheol had a way of looking at you that made you feel like there was something he knew but you didn’t. And that bothered you.

           “Hello, yoo hoo, anyone home?” You snapped out of your reverie and half expected the deep voice to be Seungcheol again. Instead it was your fellow potions maker and wizard, Soonyoung. “Whoa. Who did you think I was? The disappointment was too real.”

           You blushed and coughed to pretend like he hadn’t been overly perceptive. “No one. You just surprised me. I thought it was a customer.”

           “Ayy,” he gave you a look from behind his heavy stack of books. “Where’s your pale-skinned leech?”

           “He’s not mine,” you muttered, crouching down in front of your cauldron to avoid seeing the overly know-it-all look Soonyoung gave you. It was obvious to you just why you didn’t see Seungcheol. He was clearly offended by your words earlier, and you weren’t about to apologize either. It was so much better, more peaceful, this way.

           The two of you worked in silence, brewing potions for sell, until you heard the bells on the front door ring. Your heart leapt to your throat for a good moment before you peeked outside and saw that it was a very human girl who had wandered in.

           “Geez,” you heard Soonyoung mutter. “I swear if you like him, just use a love potion or something. I don’t even need truth potion to know.”

           You ignored him. You didn’t like Seungcheol. That would just be weird. Yeah, you didn’t age the same as humans, but that didn’t mean you had the time like him to just muck around for all of eternity. You shook your head. Why were you even considering spending forever with him?

           Once the customers left and it was almost closing, Soonyoung grinned apologetically. “Hey, I have a date tonight, so I can’t stay with you. Are you going to get home okay? It’s almost feeding frenzy time for the vampires. They usually don’t target us, but you know, things haven’t been normal lately.”

           You waved a hand. “Don’t worry. It’s not even midnight. You have fun and make sure that you get home safe.” Your colleague grinned and placed an amulet in your hand. “Just carry this around to make me feel better.”

           “You know they aren’t even that repulsed by garlic. It just makes human blood tastes bad.”

           Soonyoung shot you a look. “You need to stop believing everything that leech says. He could just be saying it to get you to lower your defenses.” You knew that he had lost a friend to a vampire hunt a few years past so the constant insults were normal. But you almost felt indignant on Seungcheol’s behalf.

           The walk home was unbearably quiet. A few weeks ago, even in your sleepy community of non-humans trying to blend in, word was around the streets that the vampires were now going after witches. Nobody knew why. It was usually known that magical blood had a hormone that was toxic if ingested in great amounts. Even though there had been wars in the past, for the last two centuries at least, there was a semblance of peace. For this sudden attack to be so targeted was once more breeding prejudiced fervor.

           It was a typical October night. The air was crisp and smelled faintly of crusty leaves, wet from an earlier shower and decaying vegetation that was ready to burrow itself for the winter. You clutched your jacket closer, whispering a small spell to create warmth.

           “Well, well, what do we have here?”

           The voices were suddenly in front of you. “Looks like a witchy-witch.” This was a higher-pitched snicker and came from behind you.

           Your eyes adjusted to the darkness and you saw four figures flanking you on all sides. They took a step in as you stood your ground, trying to ignore the panic that was riding up your throat. The adrenaline rushing through your brain had you almost delirious as a random thought popped into your head. You had no idea why this time of night was called the witching hour when in reality, it was now that you were weakest and the other demons were strongest.

           The vampire in front of you took a loud sniff in the air and grinned, too-sharp fangs sliding past his lips. “Ooooh, I do like the smell of magic running in your veins. They say it’s poison, but it’s really more an addictive drug for those like us.”

           Us. You glanced around and decided you didn’t much want to know what or who this ‘us’ entailed. A hand clamped down on your shoulder and you increased the temperature to burn him. This act of defiance earned you a swift kick to the ribs and you were down on the ground, wheezing.

           “Don’t try your little abracadabra thing with me, girlie. You’re just going to waste your own energy, and then what’s the fun of a prey that doesn’t try to put up a fight?”

           “Or you can pick on someone your own kind, sucker.” You turned in shock at the familiar voice. Seungcheol was glaring at the leader.

           The malicious vampire rolled his eyes. “You know, you’re really out here ruining our fun. Be careful I don’t report you for fraternizing with the enemy.” The other cronies shifted so that they were less focused on you and were staring at Seungcheol.

           “Oh? And you’re the one stirring up the war again. Who do you think will be the one punished?”

           The attack came too suddenly. Suddenly one vampire had you in a chokehold and the other three had descended on Seungcheol. You tried to quell your panic to summon a flame but the tight hold on your throat made it difficult to even think of the incantation. The fight in front of you was intense. There was barely any movement, just flashes and breeze and then you heard a low groan. The two other weaker vampires were already on the ground, their heads already off.

           Seungcheol was on the ground and panting. You saw the malicious leader approach him, with a wooden stake and the sudden alarm had you thinking in clarity. You burst into flames, burning the one demon holding onto you and you flew into the one attacking Seungcheol, knocking him to the ground and knocking the stake out of his hand. You whispered an iridescent bind and the vampire writhed on the ground, unable to break out of it.

           Meanwhile, Seungcheol had gotten to his feet and held the stake to the other’s throat. “I’d kill you but I’d rather have the coven deal with you,” he hissed. He crushed the wood in his hands, careful to avoid getting any splinters in him, and looked at you.

           “Hey, are you okay?”

           You were shaken, still breathing hard but summoning the binds had taken a great deal of energy from you. You were startled to see how pale he looked. There were dark bruises under his eyes and gashes all over his shirt.

           “You’re bleeding,” you whispered.

           He glanced down at himself and grimaced. “It’s fine. It’ll heal quickly. Let me call for backup to take this scum in. You should probably look away though. The other two aren’t pretty to look at.”

           You smiled weakly. “They weren’t much better to begin with.”

           He shook his head, astonished at your ability to be humorous at this time. You saw him whistle something, a strange melody, and then a storm materialized. Stern looking vampires appeared, their eyebrows raised at the scene.

           “A witch?”

           “Yes. They were targeting her. She managed to burn one of them and got this one in a bind.”

           The leader turned to you and blinked once in what you assumed was acknowledgement. “Please inform the head wizard that we will indeed be holding a meeting. It is a shame that a few rogues have disrupted the peace. I will have you escorted to your dwelling while we make sure no humans have been affected or witnessed anything.”

           “I can bring her home,” Seungcheol offered but was silenced with a glare.

           “I need you as witness during the trial.”

           “Please. He’s hurt,” you pled. “Give him time to rest.”

           There was a humorless chuckle. “We heal fast. No need to worry. Jihoon, take the witch home.” A short but fierce looking vampire stepped out from the ranks and jerked his head stiffly, indicating for you to lead the way. You gave Seungcheol one more look but saw that he had already turned away.

           There was silence from his end the next two weeks. The attacks had ceased but you wanted to know what happened with Seungcheol. The Head Wizard had called you in for your testimony and when you tried to inquire about the vampires involved, he had put up a hand. “Unfortunately I have nothing to say.”

           It was near midnight when you heard the familiar chimes ring. You barely looked up. Lately, Soonyoung’s girlfriend had taken to waiting for him to close up. “Oh. Are you just going to ignore a customer now?”

           The familiar voice had you blushing hard before you looked up in surprise. “Seungcheol!”

           He gave a wry grin as he held his arms out. “Hi, didya miss me?”

           It was habit. You scowled and mumbled a no. His face fell and he stepped closer. “Seriously? I saved you from a bunch of witch hunting blood suckers and you can’t even greet me properly with a hi?”

           The steam from the potion you were currently concocting rose into the air and he sniffed. “Oh, it smells like blueberries and cream.” He breathed in deeper and frowned. “Is that mahogany?”

           Your cheeks went bright pink. “W-what do you mean?”

           “Your potion. Don’t you smell it? It sort of smells like you.”

           Soonyoung took this moment to wander over and peer into the contents of the cauldron. With an eyebrow slightly raised at you, he clarified, “That’s a love potion, Leech. It smells different to everyone depending on their person of preference.” He said the last part with a smirk aimed directly at you and you flushed.

           “Oh really?” Seungcheol turned his attention to you, ignoring Soonyoung who had now squeezed by and was greeting his girlfriend. He stared intently at you. “And what do you smell?”

           “N-nothing,” you hated how much you were stuttering.

           His eyes narrowed and he walked closer, so close you could smell the sweet scent he always emits, doubled as you now had the real thing. You could also smell mint and oddly enough, garlic.

           “Do you smell me?” he asked. His eyes held onto yours and then he looked shy. “Or rather, what reminds you of me.”

           The doors chimed and closed again. You saw Soonyoung waggle his fingers at you. You stared at the bubbling lavender liquid and then at Seungcheol. His dark hair was softened by the steam curling and the paleness of skin less noticeable in the dimness of the store.

           “It smells like you,” you mumbled, “and garlic.”

           Seungcheol’s lips quirked into a smile and he groaned. “I swear, no matter how many times I tell you, you’re always going to associate me with that disgusting herb, aren’t you?”

           “Be quiet. I just confessed to you and you’re talking about garlic.”

           He chuckled and bent at the waist to look you properly in the face. “Hmm, magic blood isn’t that bad.”

           Your hand flew to your neck. “Don’t you dare.”

           “I wasn’t going to bite you. I was just thinking that kissing you wouldn’t be an offense to my olfactory system.”

           “Kissing me?!” you squeaked.

           He grinned, showing off one of his fangs. “Yes, silly. That’s what I want to do right now.” He waited for you to close your eyes before chuckling and leaning in to press his lips against yours. The kiss was sweet, and he pulled away lingeringly. “Oh baby, you really put me under your spell,” he murmured, earning him a slap to the arm.

#caratober #seungcheol #seventeen imagines #seungcheol scenarios #seventeen scenarios #kpop scenarios #seventeen fics #kpop imagines #kpop fics #svt scenarios #svt fics #svt imagines #Seventeen

[tcfactory]

How are raids in guild wars?

I personally enjoy them a lot. They fall somewhere between ffxiv’s normal and savage raids in difficulty and since there’s no gear treadmill every boss is just as difficult and relevant when you fight them the hundredth time as they were the first. The only thing that will make them easier is practice and experience - and perhaps a better strategy the community has come up with in the meantime. The people here take them maybe a bit too seriously - good overall damage is the difference between a mildly painful training raid and a torturous one, so even if you start raiding under the wings of an experienced commander and an organized training group, they will expect meta or near meta builds and okay damage output on the training dummy.

Many of the mechanics are based around quick reactions and dodging which can make tunnel visioning dangerous - and since there is a lot of pressure on the members of the raid to do good dps, it’s very common to tunnel vision. You focus too much on getting that tricky bit of your rotation right and drop an expanding poison field on top of your raid and you all die. You fail to cc the boss when it’s trying to eat the tank or is bombarding the arena with projectiles and you are all dead.

I couldn’t really find any great videos of average groups because most of the raid videos are made by the hardcore guilds, but this is a passable example. Some of the mechanics at play here in one of the mid-tier difficulty boss fights: Slothasor

you need to pick four people who each eat a magic shroom and transform so they can clear a path through the poison covering the arena (when you are in slug form you are considered an enemy, so your party can and will cleave you down or cc you to death if they don’t pay attention)

an expanding poison field targeting a random player that has to be dropped in a safe spot or it will eat up what little space your group has

a delayed knockdown you need to sidestep or dodge

randomly chosen tank who has to move the boss and turn him away from the group because that flame breath hurts like hell

shake - the boss shakes a bunch of toxic spores off himself that inflict very heavy DOTs if not dodged or blocked properly

every 20% of its hp, the boss turns invulnerable and falls asleep and has to be cced until he wakes up because you can’t move him otherwise and you will get caught by the respawning poison

a lot of small adds spawning through the fight that need to be managed or they will turn your buffs into DOTs

You are managing all that, in a claustrophobic arena, while keeping a dps rotation as tight as you can and rezing everyone who might go down during the fight.

Raids are always most mechanically taxing for the tank and the few choice members of the group who get designated roles, so if you are lucky and you don’t have to do any of that, then it’s very possible to get carried, but why are you even in raids if you don’t want to pull your weight?

A side note about the more hardcore raiding scene. The skill cap isn’t crazy high, but the skill ceiling is as high as you can possibly put it. They buildcraft and fine tune and practice and compete with each other over who can kill a boss with the smallest group, in the shortest time, without the least amount of mistakes. I don’t know if they will organize it this year or not, but Elitist Raiding Party was a fun community organized competition in the last few years:

The rules included turning on the challenge mode for every boss that has it, limited to 8 player per boss on average instead of a full party of 10 and they had to ban away 2 or 3 subclasses they used that were a no-go for the rest of the wing (so we got to see some less common builds).

When the game isn’t hard enough, we will make it harder for ourselves, just watch us.

#ooc #long post #gw2 #Anonymous

[esonetwork]

Learning to let go: Quick movie reviews for ‘Yesterday’ and ‘Toy Story 4’

New Post has been published on https://esonetwork.com/learning-to-let-go-quick-movie-reviews-for-yesterday-and-toy-story-4/

Learning to let go: Quick movie reviews for ‘Yesterday’ and ‘Toy Story 4’

How do you let go of a dream that you’ve been holding onto for so long that it’s become a part of who you are? Even when that dream has turned into something toxic, you just can’t imagine your life without it.

I really wasn’t expecting to find parallels between the two movies I saw in theaters this weekend: “Yesterday” and “Toy Story 4.” One is about a man who wakes up in a world where only he remembers The Beatles, and the other is a continuation of an animated franchise about toys who come to life.

Both of these movies were entertaining, yet they also turned out to be way more thought-provoking than I had planned on. I wish I could write up full-length reviews on both of these, but alas, it’s summertime and difficult to keep up with all the new movies coming out. Here are my quick thoughts on each, and some of the interesting parallels between them.

Yesterday

I was intrigued by “Yesterday” from the moment I saw the first preview. Jack Malik (Himesh Patel) is a struggling singer-songwriter who is pondering giving up his dream of becoming a famous musician. Then, on the night of a strange power outage that takes place across the world, he gets in an accident.

When he wakes up, he appears to be the only one who remembers who The Beatles are. This presents him with an intriguing ethical conundrum: should he perform The Beatles’ music and market it as if it were his own? Technically he’s not hurting anybody or stealing from anyone in this reality, because The Beatles were never “a thing.” Yet deep down, he knows he’s being dishonest, and untrue to himself.

On a surface level, “Yesterday” is a quirky, entertaining romantic comedy. Overall, I felt like it was lacking the little extra push it needed to go from “good” to truly “great” but I would still definitely recommend it, especially to Beatles fans. It’s always a pleasure to hear these songs again.

(Spoilers ahead…)

I also really loved that they never explained how reality shifted and apparently erased the existence of The Beatles. I think including that would have bogged down the movie and detracted from its quirky charm. I do wish they hadn’t added in additional missing pop culture fixtures (like Coca-Cola and Harry Potter), because that kinda distracted from The Beatles premise.

I also appreciated the movie’s message about recognizing when it’s time to let go of a dream. It’s something we don’t talk a lot about, because we’re used to the message of “follow your dreams and don’t ever give up and you too can succeed!”

The truth is, not everyone is going to be famous. You can work really hard and never get recognized for that work. It’s terrifying to look a dream that is so precious to you and think about giving it up, but sometimes that is the healthiest thing you can do.

Jack eventually lets go of his dream of being a superstar (and confesses about stealing The Beatles’ music). Then he goes on to find incredible joy and meaning in an ordinary life.

As someone who had big dreams post-college and then my life ended up going a different way, the ending of this movie really resonated with me. Maybe I’ll never be famous, but I still find joy and fulfillment in being creative.

Toy Story 4

I missed seeing “Toy Story 4” on opening weekend due to traveling for work, and I actually considered skipping it. “Toy Story 3” felt like such a perfect ending to the franchise, and the trailers for “Toy Story 4” didn’t necessarily grab me.

However, it was actually my husband who announced that he wanted to see it after hearing some glowing reviews, and I’m so glad he did.

“Toy Story 4” is so much more than a mere cash grab or tired, rehashed sequel. It’s a great film in its own right, and it stands with “Toy Story 3” as the best in the franchise, at least in my opinion. It’s been a while since I laughed so hard I cried in a theater, but “Toy Story 4” delivered (“plush rush” is all I’ll say and leave it at that, for those who haven’t seen the movie yet).

The standouts of the movie are actually some of the new characters: Forky (voiced by “Arrested Development’s” Tony Hale) and carnival plushes Bunny and Ducky (voiced by comedy duo Key and Peele). I never thought I would laugh so hard at the antics of a plastic spork, but Forky and his obsession with trash are hilarious. Bunny and Ducky also generated lots of laughter during the showing I went to, including the moment referenced in the previous paragraph.

Yet what impressed me most about this movie is that Pixar was able to present a new story with a meaningful message that doesn’t detract from previous films or borrow too heavily from them, either.

(Spoilers ahead…)

The heart of this movie is Woody’s personal journey to adapt to a new life after Andy has moved on. He isn’t connecting with his new kid, Bonnie, as much as he connected to Andy, and it’s hard for him, since so much of his identity is wrapped up in being a child’s beloved toy.

I was actually a little surprised that they ended the movie with Woody going off on his own adventure with Bo Peep, who is a proud “lost toy” without an owner. I’ll admit it, I definitely got a little teary-eyed as Woody watched Buzz, Jessie, and the rest of the gang driving off in Bonnie’s family’s RV after an emotional goodbye.

But I really liked that ending, and it’s the reason why “Yesterday” and “Toy Story 4” play well together. Woody has a hard time letting go but eventually he realizes that he needs to let go of his past dreams and try something new.

There’s grief in letting go of his old life, but also joy in embracing a new adventure. And saying goodbye to your friends doesn’t mean you stop caring about them.

Closing thoughts

Anyway, I wasn’t expecting either of these movies to touch me as deeply as they did, and I thought both were well worth catching in the theater. Letting go is a hard lesson to learn, and I loved how both of these movies communicated that without being too heavy-handed. I definitely want to see both of these movies again!

#Movie #review #The Beatles #Toy Story 4 #Woody #Yesterday

[fandomlife-giver]

Toxic Veins (Alucard X OC): Ch. 8

Warnings: Violence, Heavy use of Language, Death

Pairings: Alucard x OC

@redryderdesigns

Word Count: 4479

The black metal glistened in the artificial light, and I was sure the grin remained on my face as I held them up and looked them over.

"I take it you're pleased with the handguns?"

I looked back at their creator who was staring at me with a smirk. "Oh, that is an understatement and you know it." His eyes widened when I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him in for a hug. "Thank you, Walter. Really." He smiled and patted my back.

I glanced up once the lights in the room dimmed and flickered. Well, that's odd.

"Phyre!"

I pulled away from him and furrowed my eyebrows when I heard my name.

"Damn mansion is like a fucking maze! Phyre! Where the hell are you?!"

He stopped and looked into the room across from ours, then turned and he sighed when he saw me. "Phyre! Answer me when I'm calling you, dammit!" He ran in and grabbed me by the arm. I watched him curiously as he dragged me out of the room.

"Uh, Chet?"

"We need to get you out of here. The ghouls have already reached the gates, we don't have much ti-"

"Whoa, hold on!" I pulled him to a stop. "1. Why are you dragging me? 2. What do you mean ghouls? And 3..." I rose up my arm to shove my bloody rose in his face. "Check out these guns Walter made me. Nice, right?"

He rolled his eyes and moved my hand. "Phyre, the mansion is under attack." I felt my eyes widen. "There's an army of ghouls marching inside, now we need to-"

"What the hell, Brazer?! Lead with that next time!" I pulled my arm from his grasp.

"Where are they entering from?" We looked back at Walter, and Chet's face turned serious.

"From the main entrance, sir. They've shot down our men at the gates and are entering main control as we speak."

Walter nodded, then pointed at me. "And why is Miss Laurifer your main concern?"

He glanced at me. "Sir Integra ordered me to escape with Phyre at all costs." He looked back at Walter. "She believes they may target Phyre if they see her."

Every person's eyes widened, except for mine. "What gave Integra that idea?"

He shrugged. "I didn't ask and she didn't say."

"Well, if it does happen, I'd say we lead on that." He rose his eyebrows and looked at me once I said that. "Chet, they're ghouls, they will kill and devour everyone, maybe even Integra, and I will not let that happen. If there's a chance they will go for me, I say we take that to our advantage."

"Wait, you're saying you want to-"

"You want to use yourself as bait?!" By the growl that came from the back, I glared at Alucard.

"It's better than running and hiding like a coward while these men pay with their lives! I am not running away like a little girl holding mommy's hand when it can be easily avoided in the first place!"

"Captain." Walter's voice made me stop. "What is your men's position and how critical is the situation?"

He swallowed hard. "Our outside communication's been cut off and I've ordered my men to defend the conference room with their lives."

Walter hummed and looked back at me. "By the time your sacrificial plan would take place, they would already be dead. I'm sorry, but giving yourself up isn't an option." I clenched my jaw and looked away. "However, neither is giving up entirely."

I looked back at him. "Then what are we supposed to do?"

As he pondered, the phone rang and he looked down to pick it up.

'What's your position, Walter?'

"Miss Victoria's room in the sub-basement. I've already been brought up to speed on the situation. Outside communication's been cut off so I wouldn't expect reinforcements for at least 4 hours, maybe 5. In the meantime, our current forces have been ordered to defend the conference room with their lives."

'What do you recommend?'

I snickered as I leaned on the dresser next to Walter. "Well, for starters, you should fortify the door to the conference room."

'Phyre, why are you still here?! Where is Captain Brazer?'

"Present, and hello to you too. And yes, I'm all right, if anyone even cares." I glanced around the room, considering no-one has even asked if I felt better yet.

"Since Alucard, Miss Laurifer, and Miss Victoria are with me down in the sub-basement, I propose we divide into two teams. Alucard and Miss Laurifer will head upstairs, Miss Victoria and I will make our way towards the conference room."

I turned as I already felt Alucard's arm firmly around my waist. Wow, Count Chocula works fast.

'How will you manage? The hallway is full of ghouls.'

Walter smirked. "How did you manage to find Alucard's cell 10 years ago?"

'The air ducts, of course!'

"Seems to be the best option at the moment. We'll both be there shortly. Good luck." He went to put the phone back but stopped.

'Walter...These animals are eating my people. Show no mercy! Do not let them leave the grounds alive!'

He placed an arm behind his back. "By your orders then, Sir Integra."

Alucard smiled. "Oh... does Walter Dornez the Angel of Death ride again?"

I crossed my arms and sighed. "Man, I'm almost sorry I won't be able to see it."

Alucard chuckled and pulled me closer to his chest. "Almost, eh?"

Seras looked between me and Alucard. "Uhh...uh... " She leaned into me and whispered. "Come on, what are you two talking about?"

I smirked and patted her shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll see soon enough."

Walter laughed and looked at us. "Put the veteran and the rookie together, and you may as well have one normal soldier."

Alucard chuckled as he walked away with me still in his grasp. He looked back at Walter. "This could actually end up being fun."

My eyes widened as he walked towards the wall. "Um, what are you-- whoa, hey!" I tightly grabbed onto him as we walked through the wall.

Seras sighed as we disappeared. "Makes you wonder, doesn't it... if there are any normal people working in this bloody place...?"

°°°

I was frozen when we were back in the basement and Alucard laughed in amusement when I refused to let go of him.

"D-Did we just walk through a wall?"

When I looked at him, he only grinned. "Like, seriously, we just walked through a wall."

He frowned as I poked the brick wall in amazement. "Are you afraid?"

I looked back at him and scoffed. "Afraid? That was amazing!"

He smirked and walked over to his throne. Once he reached it, he stopped to lift me up, sit down, then place me on his lap. He sighed as he lightly stroked my cheek with his gloved finger.

"I remember when I first showed you my power. I was afraid you'd reject me, but instead, you were fascinated by it. Despite what I had become, you still saw something in me others didn't."

My brows furrowed. I did? "Well, I sound like one hell of a girl. So when exactly did I say this?"

He shrugged. "A few centuries ago."

What? I closed my eyes, shook my head and pushed away from his chest. "You're talking about Nica, aren't you?"

He looked at me curiously. "Of course, who else would I be talking about?"

I scratched the back of my neck and slid off his lap to stand up. "Look, Alucard, I'm not Nica. Okay, I'm not your wife. Just because she's my ancestor and I have her blood doesn't mean I'm her."

He stood up and snaked his arms around my waist. "You are my Queen. You are her. I can feel her when I'm around you, Phyre."

He can feel her?

I sucked my teeth and unwrapped his arms from me. "Well, glad I could bring you two together. It's what I live for!"

He frowned as I turned and started walking towards the stairs that led up. "Phyre. Where are you going?"

I didn't even bother looking back at him. "Suddenly, I want to have a chat with our intruders."

He narrowed his eyes. "Phyre, they can't see you."

I looked back to glare at him. "Yeah? Screw that, I feel like killing something."

°°°

Luke adjusted his glasses as he stood over the bodies of sliced soldiers and put the ringing phone to his ear.

"What?"

'Yo, Luke, what up? Can you hear me now? This is your brother, Jan Valentine, commander of the army of the undead Hellsing slayers. Oh yeah! Letting you know the first 2 floors are secure. Now all that's left is to take the 3rd floor, crash the round table conference and... kick the shit out of a little girl and a bunch of old people. Hey, you find that Manchester bitch yet?'

He sighed. "No, there's no sign of her yet. I feel I'm getting close, though. Just stick to the plan. Don't give them an inch."

He froze when he saw the girl near the end of the hall, leaning against the wall with her eyes closed as she chewed on a match in between her lips.

"Mmm...Hold that thought. I think I just found her."

He put the phone in his pocket and using his enhanced speed, he ran forward, nearly invisible to the naked eye, and as he was about to bring down his blade, he was stopped by her voice.

"It's funny when people try to be sneaky, but the only ones they are fooling are themselves."

PHYRE

His breath hitched when I spoke, but really, did he actually think it would be that easy?

My head turned to give him a bored look. "I was wondering when you'd finally find me. Heh, it's only been 22 years, after all."

*bang*

He screeched and grasped his arm where a large bloody hole now was present.

My eyes widened at the damage and I rose my bloody rose as I grinned. "Thank you, Walter."

He exhaled sharply and looked up at me. "So, you're Phyre Manchester. I've heard a lot about you and your ancestor Nica-"

I groaned loudly. "Seriously, the next time I hear that name, I am going to rip out someone's tongue!"

By the flick of the wrist, he was on the wall, unable to move his arms and legs because of the claws pinning him to the bloody surface.

I walked up and kicked his blade to the side, before staring at him curiously. "So which one are you? There's only so many vampire wannabes I can keep up with over the years."

He gritted his teeth. "My name is Luke Valentine, and I don't have time to entertain your sick self."

"Oh, I'm the sick one? At least I don't eat people." I picked up his blade and pointed it to his collar. "You're not the only one. Who else is here?"

"Ugh, just my imbecile brother, Jan."

I smirked. "Imbecile brother, huh? We might have something in common after all." I used the tip to tear open the first button of his suit shirt, making his eyes widen.

"While we're on the subject of brothers...you wouldn't happen to know the name of Lucan Laurifer, would you?"

He narrowed his eyes. "You mean the vampire mercenary leader that kills his own kind for the price of a virgin? He's your brother?"

I bit my lip so hard, it drew blood. Mercenary leader? Wait... "Did you say, vampire?"

He nodded and I scoffed. "Interesting. Well, I think that's all I need."

With a smile, I brought down the blade and his curdled screams filled the air. "Don't be a baby, it's just a little slice of the throat." I used the blade to cut across my arm, purposely smearing blood on it, before clenching my fist and letting my liquid drop into his exposed throat.

Once it was done, I turned and walked down the hall. He tore himself free from my claws as his throat healed and his eyes narrowed. "What did you just do to me?"

I glanced back at him. "Well, there's no fun to just tell you. Let's just say once your dead, you'll still be useful when the time comes."

He scoffed. "You're not confident enough to kill me now?"

I stopped and laughed. "Oh, you think I meant me? No, it wouldn't be fair to have you all to myself. I'll leave you to the king."

I threw him his blade, which he caught with his good arm, while the other was still healing. "You're gonna need that." I pointed at the mirror right next to him. "He's in there and he's definitely gonna like you."

He glanced at the mirror, pushed the side and it opened to reveal a staircase that led down. He looked back, but I was already gone.

"Well, that's enough of that. Time to see what you can really do... Alucard." His eyes glowed red as he shut the mirror door behind him.

I waited, then pressed the button behind my ear.

"Chet?”

'Phyre. Where are You? We need to get you out of here.'

"Just hold on. Did you find anyone?"

'No...no-one. They're all dead. I just ordered my men to their death.'

I sighed. "Pull yourself together, Brazer. I need a favor.”

'What?’

"You know any mercenaries?"

°°°

Luke swung his leg towards the brick wall, pieces of it flew out as he entered in the dark room. "I know you're in here. Even when you're hiding I can feel your presence.”

Alucard smirked. "Why on earth would I hide?"

Luke gasped as the lights flickered on and minimal light provided to reveal Alucard sitting on his throne with his legs crossed.

"Don't dare mistake my patience for cowardice. Honestly, I was starting to get a bit bored waiting for you."

He watched as the blonde man strode towards him after his most annoying display, a blank look on his face as he just stared. He was already unimpressed by the vermin standing before him. He looked like any other vampire amateur he's had the pleasure of killing.

He bowed. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Alucard. My name is Luke Valentine. I'm a really big fan of your work. Your name gets thrown around quite a bit, Alucard. The things people say. They tell stories of your amazing strength. How you glide through oceans of blood. They call you Night-walker, beyond human. A monster whose powers radiate with darkness that casts a shadow on darkness itself. Finally, I get to know once and for all if there's anything to you than a rumor."

Alucard smirked with a hint of a laugh by the blonde's words. He glanced at the hole that was still closing up, almost nearly gone. "What happened to your arm? Don't tell me someone got to you before me."

Luke's smile dropped. "I never knew how viciously insane Phyre Manchester was. He never told us her skills of a surprise attack.”

He smirked wider. "My delicate flower caught you by surprise? If my Queen can take you down so easily, then you're not making me very interested in entertaining you."

Luke kept a frown. "When I was human, I feared you -- the stories, anyway. And when I gave up being human, when I became this, I began to admire you. You, the first great pioneer of immortality. No matter what the rest of us do, really we're all just chasing your shadow."

Alucard scoffed. "That's ridiculous. You fool. There's no such thing as an immortal."

He grinned. "Yes, I know. And once I have your head on a stick, everyone else will know it, too. So now I get to kill you and my wildest dreams come true."

°°°

Jan laughed, then winced from Seras's hold on him as he looked up at Walter. "Me and my brother, we were designed with the sole intention of killin’ you fucks! You people are so fuckin’ dead and you don’t even know it!"

Walter was frowning. It was already irritating that the mansion was nearly destroyed, there were corpses everywhere, but the man's language was ticking him off.

"You’re in no position to make threats."

Jan laughed. "Dude, you must be going senile, Alfred."

Walter sneered but froze at the sounds of growling. Jan elbowed Seras, which sent her flying back, then flipped back to stand in front of a set of double doors that had just opened. "And now, for our next trick, check out Door Number Three!"

Walter and Seras looked in horror at Chet's men, Hellsing's guards, now walking corpses.

"My God! What have you done...?”

"Time to get this party started. Hah!" Jan raced forward, his legs like noodles racing as he went through the crowd of ghouls, that was until his arm was shot off.

The force sent him against the wall.

Walter and Seras looked back, and their faces lit up in relief at the sight of their favorite blood covered girl.

PHYRE

Damn, that guy really needs a cork.

I managed to clear the first and second floors, it wasn't easy, but I managed it with all my toes and the skin of my ass was still there, so I call it a win.

The power of my pistols was already clearing out Jan's little surprise, Integra's men dropped or blew up, but he still managed to break free.

Walter's eyes widened. "Stop!"

He rose his hand, and no matter how much I wanted to see him in action again, I stopped him from using his strings and we watched as Jan ran to the doors of the conference room.

"AHAHAHAHA!" He stormed through the doors but was met with the circle of twelve aiming their guns at him.

Integra smirked. "You made it." She rose up her gun. "Congratulations."

His smile fell. "Oh, fuck me..."

Hundreds of bullets penetrated Jan with holes going through his body, and once he collapsed, Integra's eyes widened.

"What?"

Integra gazed in defeat at her soldiers. "My men...They've turned all my men into ghouls...!"

I turned and glared at Jan, who laid moaning on the floor. I stomped over, picked him up and used my claws to pin him in place, even dug them in deeper than needed.

"Aargh! Ugh... Heh heh heh..." He glanced up at me with a lascivious smirk. "Hey, sugar tits! Why don't you give me one last request and blow me 'til my brains pop out!"

The only response he got was another bullet to the face.

Walter lowered my gun and frowned. "It's all over, boy."

His smirk stayed glued on his face. "Nice. Come on and kill me, limp-dick."

"Oh, I'm not going to kill you -- not until after you tell me who put you up to this. Then I'll put you out of your misery."

He scoffed. "Are you serious? You fuckin' pussy." He looked up at Integra as she walked over. "What up, bit-"

He didn't finish as Integra plucked the gun from my hand and fired multiple rounds into his chest. "We'll have no more of that. I'm pissed off."

"Heh heh heh..."

She clenched her teeth. "Who the hell are you people? What did you hope to accomplish here? Who's responsible for this? Start talking!"

"Heh heh heh... hah hah..."

I took the gun from Integra and shoved it into his crotch.

"Answer the damn question or the only time you touch yourself will be in your dreams."

He froze and there was a hint of fear in his eyes as he finally answered. "Come on sugar tits, you know... the ones who put the fuckin' chip in me, the chip that's sending the information letting them know we fucked up. They can hear us talking, every last goddamn word. If they know I'm standing here fucked up and dying about to tell you everything, you think they're gonna let me fuckin' live?"

We all backed up once blue flames ignited over his body. He looked down. "See? I so fuckin' told you! Well, since I'm fucked, how about I piss a little wisdom on you dipshits?" As he slowly burned alive, he flipped her off.

"HAHAHA! You can take this clue and shove it up your ass, bitch! Beware... the... Millennium!"

Once his body had fully disintegrated, Integra stared at his remaining ashes. "That's it...? Millennium...?"

I scoffed under my breath. "Sounds like a whole damn group of people. Five bucks say it's Nazis."

She turned at the sound of my voice and once she saw me, she pulled me into a hug. "Phyre, next time I tell you to get out of here, you do as I say!"

"Yeah, yeah. I missed you too."

I looked back at Walter as he looked at Integra and me in concern. "Are you all right, Sir Integra, Miss Laurifer?"

She looked down. "Yes, we're fine." She looked back at the bodies of ghoul soldiers "And as for them... please put them out of their misery, Walter."

Walter bowed his head. "Of course."

"Walter, you will belay that order."

I felt tense as Sir Islands, the head of The Knights of The round table, walked up. "The responsibility must fall... to their leader." He pulled out a pistol and held it out to Integra.

"Sir Integra, it's your duty."

My teeth clenched as I stepped in between them. "No! With all due respect, Sir Islands, that's going too far!"

His head snapped to me. "Sir Phyronela, hold your tongue." He looked at Integra. "This entire situation should have been prevented. Integra, your lack of preparation is an offense. And since this facility is under your command, the responsibility is yours. The fact that these men died and were reanimated as these creatures is entirely your fault."

My jaw dropped as Walter's eyes widened. "How dare you, sir!"

"Walter!"

We both looked at Integra as she took the pistol and walked over to one of the moaning ghouls.

He turned to Walter. "Now, Walter, see what you can find out about this "millennium." I expect you to work quickly and thoroughly."

He narrowed his eyes but still bowed his head. "Yes. Of course, sir."

"We will see them pay a thousand-fold for this horror."

ALUCARD

"Alucard"

I looked up at my master, who looked at me with narrowed eyes. "Are you listening?"

I only hummed in response. "Millennium, hm?"

She stared at me for a few moments. "That's not what I wanted to speak with you about."

That made me more curious. I rose an eyebrow. "Oh? Then what is?"

She stood up and threw something down on her desk, then reached into her pocket and placed something on it.

I leaned forward. It was a portrait of Nica and one of Phyre with a bracelet decorated with roses around it on top. "Your fixation on Phyre hasn't gone unnoticed. At first, I was confused as to why, but now...I think I know."

I hadn't realized how alike they were. They share the same beauty and innocence.

"I want you to stop."

My head shot up back to her as a smirk crawled up my face. "Stop what exactly?"

She held a cold look towards me. Oh, I've never seen her act this way before. It's very intriguing.

"Stop pursuing Phyre. She's had enough history with vampires and she doesn't need you breathing down her neck while she's here."

Breathing down her neck? Was that sarcasm or was she being serious?

I laughed at her either way and stood up. "I don't need to pursue her. She's already given into me.”

She scoffed and took out the cigar from her mouth.

"Then why did she completely ignore you after the events of last night?"

She ignored me? I guess I didn't notice. "How should I know that? Maybe she just wanted to wash all the blood off of her, though I wouldn't have minded cleaning her myself."

Oh yes, soap and water were nothing compared to my methods of cleansing her.

"Or maybe it was because you were too distracted by your own thoughts."

I turned my gaze away. How would she know? She doesn't know anything about the things I feel at the moment.

"What happened down there, Alucard? Why are you so distressed after your confrontation with Luke Valentine?"

My eyes narrowed as they glowed partially red.

Flashback...

"Come on, get up! Attack me!"  

With a smile, I brought up Valentine's severed leg and said in a twisted tone, "You’ve only suffered the loss of your legs! Summon up your familiars! Transform your body! Heal your severed legs and stand!"

I began to squeeze his leg with a grin when he just sat there and did nothing! "The evening is still so young." The vampire flinched at the sight and sound of his leg crunching.

"Come on! Hurry, hurry, HURRY! Pull yourself together! The fun has just begun! Come on! HURRY!"

His eyes shook with fear as he let out a scream.

"Monster!"

WHAT?! I felt my eyes widen, a frown came on my face as my shadows swam back to my feet. "So, I see you for what you really are. You’re pathetic! Nothing but a useless sniveling lump of meat!"

With little courage he had left, he dared to scoff. "Shut up! You’re nothing but the Hellsing family toy! A dog for the Church of England, not even fit to call himself a vampire! Even Manchester will be more useful than you, you puppet--"

Manchester?! "Silence! What do you mean 'More Useful'?" He flinched at my voice and shut himself up, which made me growl. "Answer me!!"

His breathing sped up. "Why do you think we're even here? To destroy you? To rid of the head of Hellsing? As if. We're here to take the blood bag, Phyre Manchester, and deliver her to advance his plans. Killing you and Hellsing was just a bonus."

Take my Queen? Deliver her as if she were a bag of garbage!?! I sneered. "I’m a dog -- then you’re dog food."

I quietly growled under my breath but didn't look back at her. "It's nothing."

I felt her analytical gaze on me as I stood up and turned, but I stopped before I touched the surface of the wall.

"I don't care if she never speaks to me again, and your order will not be enough to stop me." I glanced back at her. "I will save her this time."

She watched me with surprise as I walked through the wall and she looked down after I did. "This time?"

#Alucard #hellsing ultimate #hellsing #vampire #vampire hunter