#help thinks i’m just being a little lazy and god how terrible am i to just let that stand bc i feel like its true. even as i sit here and

[airlock]

okay, so, I was going to save this rant for the middle of my full Scarlet Blaze opinions post (... as one does, I guess), but I’m starting to worry that it’ll either get so long-winded it’ll take up more than its due real estate there, or that I’ll have lost too much of the immediate fervor by the time I finish the entire route. so here’s a quick rant concerning Monica and Fire Emblem fan reactions

not to bury the lede though. some people find Monica pretty annoying -- I don’t agree, but that much is perfectly fine. lately though I have been seeing a lot of comparisons to fucking Tharja and Faye, and that’s starting to make me frustratred possibly beyond the point of rationality. more under the cut!

so I haven’t seen everything that Scarlet Blaze has to offer, and for all I know something nasty is going to crop up ahead of the line and I’ll eat crow. crossing that bridge when I get to it. where I’m at right now, though, how shall I describe Monica? she has it bad for Edelgard, of course. it’s her Repetitive Character Thing, so it’ll always come up in those scenes where Linhardt is being lazy and Bernadetta is panicking and Petra is misuderstanding an idiom and Caspar is screaming -- or, as it were, ehum, revealing that he doesn’t know what sex is. it grates just as much as the other ones typically do, naturally. she’s also not a character with a wealth of dimensions or screentime outside of this, though, so there’s not terribly much else to anchor the screentime she does get. I can very, very easily see how not everyone would have the stamina for it.

Monica is not a fucking stalker, though.

is she obssessed with Edelgard? yes, for sure. but I’ve also yet to see a single scene where Monica actually violates Edelgard’s boundaries. she’s often a little much and kind of embarassing, but on occasions when she’s affirmatively told to reel it in, she does it without a complaint. and it almost never actually comes to that, anyway; she’s perfectly respectful most of the time without anyone telling her how to do it. conversely, I don’t think I’ve seen a single scene where Edelgard actually sounds at all uncomfortable with Monica’s attentions; at most, their B support almost goes there, but Edelgard is only really upset because she doesn’t want Monica unwittingly projecting affection into a decision that she made perfectly callously.

none of the above is stalking, by half. most everything Monica does in this game is just a kind of a comically exaggerated version of having a completely regular crush.

and naturally, that’s where her and Tharja differ dramatically. like, I am going to abstain from making too many definitive statments about what Tharja did or didn’t do -- it’s, thank god, been ages since last I touched Awakening -- but if nothing else, the known and obvious writer intent doesn’t lie. Tharja was conceived as a sympathetic stalker, whose repugnant behavior we’re expected to find sexually appealling. (and if her perennially solid CYL results are any indication, yeah, a bunch of us do find it sexually appealling, some freaking how).

I speak at least for me when I say that is the reason why Tharja is a garbage character -- and if she’s also one-note annoying and has one of the dumbest character designs this series has seen prior to Fates, those are secondary annoyances strictly, which would have easily blended into the sea of other Awakening characters with these exact same flaws if not for how #1 stands out as the real problem.

so like, if I’m willing to take things in good faith, I can at least sometimes let folks slide if they’re making that comparison, if I just assume that what they’re saying is “those are two characters that annoy me because they’re intensely obssessed with one other character; no statement on whether their similarities run any deeper than that”. even in that regard though, I can’t help noting that characters who are kind of obssessed with specific other characters have been a thing in this franchise since the freaking Akaneia Saga, so I can’t be too charitable to the thought that such a misleading comparison was the best one they could come up with.

(and in any case, for that matter, noting as much is a balm against the ones who are catastrophizing about how every Fire Emblem is going to be “like this” or something. like, I get, it’s hard to get over how dizzyingly stupid the whole thing was with adding a stalker to a remake -- but if this really is just about being annoyed by obssessive characters, then I regret to inform you, that’s just where we’ve been this entire goddamn time. you don’t have to like it regardless, but don’t treat it like a novel trope when it isn’t.)

now, those of you who know me well enough know that I really do not like making this kind of accusation just to win at fandom discourse (possible to achieve, normal to want, etc), but every now and then there are situations that actually call for it, so I'm just gonna let it out here in the heat of the moment and hope I won’t be embarassed whenever I’ve fully well calmed down about this. here goes -- if you can’t spot the line in the sand between an annoying lesbian and a goddamn stalker... you might need to work on your general opinion of lesbians, dontcha think?

#my stupid text posts #Fire Emblem is tagged in this post #Fódlan FE is tagged in this post #and there we go. discourse out

[shywhitemoose]

...can I send an ask for the writer AND artist game at the same time? If not, dealer’s choice as to which one you answer! (Also am I the only one whose brain always gets a little scrambled looking at all these emojis and numbers? 🤣)

🤡 and 🦅

5 and 21

Haha sure Soph! And no, you’re not the only one whose brain get scrambled by the emojis and numbers in these games [writer asks and artist asks]. I’ve had to double check about 27 times to make sure I’m answering the right questions for you!

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

Oh man my main characters make me laugh at almost every exchange (well, when they’re not making me cry). I doubt anyone else thought it was as funny as I did, but I *still* laugh every time I think of Obi-Wan’s ill-mannered genitalia thoughts from Chapter 15 of A&E: 

He was headed for the floor, but he declined to reach out for assistance because, really, breaking his legs one more time seemed wholly preferable to facing the man he’d just prodded with his ill-mannered genitalia. Gods. Maybe if he were lucky, his head would collide with a bedrail and he’d be knocked unconscious.

I’m also a big fan of their cartoonish, post-handjob scrambling when Mace shows up unannounced at their door. 

 Anakin grabbed a hand towel as the water shut off and gestured with an emphatic jerk of his head toward Obi-Wan’s room, practically shouting through their bond: GO!

Obi-Wan didn’t need to be told twice. Even with his business properly tucked away and a jar of bacta at the ready to justify his lacking attire, disappearing into his bedroom for the time being did seem to be his most sensible course of action. (Come to think of it, he might elect to live out the rest of his years there because Force help him he’d just ejaculated into his former padawan’s hand and quite frankly he would very much like to do it again and surely self-imposed solitary confinement would be preferable to looking another Jedi Councilor in the eye at any point in the near or distant future while such a secret flounced about inside his head now wouldn’t it?) He could still feel the flush on his cheeks and the cool tickle of perspiration evaporating from his skin, and he suspected he looked about as put together as a drenched loth-cat.

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

For most things I have an outline. Like A&E was too complicated and plotty to not have one (i’m not smart enough to keep that all in my head!). But I’m trying something a little different with a more recent wip that has no outline, just going to write each chapter as kind of a stand-alone episode in an au i estabish in the first chapter. We’ll see how it goes? Might be fun to have a little more freedom to play as I go :)

5. Estimate of how much of your art you post online vs. the art you keep for yourself

Oh gosh, I’d say at least 90% of my digital stuff is anakin/obi-wan/obikin and is intended to ultimately be posted! I’m a traditional artist at heart so all of my physical art is unrelated to fandom and not shared online. That said, being a mom with a full-time job makes that type of art almost not worth it at the moment because when you only have 10-20 minutes at a time to do art, set-up and cleanup make oil painting pretty impractical lol. Digital has really been able to fill that void for me these last couple years!

21. Art styles nothing like your own but you like anyways

oh gosh, SO MANY! I’m a huge fan of cartoony styles, but I’m terrible at it. And I LOVE more painterly styles of art (02png’s work, for example), but I’m just kind of incapable of it - I try but it just looks like a lazy mess when I do it - I can’t seem to get a good likeness of what i’m going for unless I render more details, haha. 

Thank you so much for the ask! 🤎🤎🤎

#ask game

[klodizzle]

Sometimes it feels like nobody will ever understand what I’m feeling inside of me, I mean, even I do not understand. I feel like I need to be put in a mental institution. I feel insane. Why do I feel things so god damn intensely? I feel like sometimes I wanna fucking explode, scream to the skies that I want to just be me you know? I wish I could be lazy, I wish nobody ever tried to depend on me, I wish that I could feel normal, I wish that I didn’t explode and then feel immense guilt over it. I just want to be able to feel. I want to be able to mourn my mother, I want to be able to be sad when I want to be. I want to be able to be mad without thinking it’s some terrible terrifying emotion. I want to be able to have conflict without it eating me away. I made my little sister scared today. I honestly scare myself sometimes. Why am I like this? Why do I make myself suffer? Why can I not see myself digging a hole and stop myself? Why do I drink? Why do I smoke? Why do I self sabotage so much? It’s not like I don’t want to be happy, it’s not like i don’t want to be normal. I guess if I want to be honest with myself, I am just trying to avoid dealing with things huh. I want to avoid my mom, I want to avoid everything that happened before and after she shot herself, I want to avoid my life right now, avoid the fact that I thought that after all this I found the love of my life, and now I’m still laying in bed going insane alone. I mean that parts my own fault but hahahaha is it not a motherfucker. I wish I could just believe I am worth something, why is that so god damn hard for me? I know bpd is definitely one of the reasons I see myself as such a pile of dog shit. I try so goddamn hard and I feel like I’m making progress and then I just fucking shit on it. Good going me! Big pat on the back! I am so god damn tired of this but I guess I don’t care because no matter what it still happens, I say this but was it not my choice to drink? I mean I didn’t know this is what would happen but still, it did. I’m just so so tired of dealing with myself, I’m tired of the things I say and the way I act and it makes me want to go back to the quiet little robot I used to be. Some days I don’t want to keep going but then I have to think about all the things that I would be leaving behind, I can’t leave Timmy, I can’t leave Yato, I can’t leave Zach or Maddie no matter how much they get annoyed or tired of me. I just can’t, it’s selfish and what would it help, literally nothing. I am no coward. I will face my shit hole of a life, even if I’m kicking and screaming through it. I’ve dealt with enough fucking garbage. I’ve dealt with never being anyone’s favorite, with my dad trying to kill me, with him abusing all of us, with my friends abandoning me without ever saying why, with me ex being such a fucking pos, with walking into the room seeing my mom after, with my shitty house and my shitty situation. All I want is to have a house that I feel at peace in with someone who really loves me and shows me it. I deserve love notes and flowers and sweet things. I am worth it no matter how bad my brain tells me I am. Maybe have some kids who I love and who love me. I don’t know, my therapist asked me where I wanted to be in five years and honestly all I can really think is fucking healed, done with this, done with feeling worthless, done with thinking that I’m not worth effort, done with being mean to myself and the people that I love. I am sorry

[broomswept-thoughts]

Hmm, kinda feeling anxious. I think it’s the usual procrastination anxiety that I feel.

I think I’m anxious (really, really, really anxious) about my upcoming lab presentation because WHAT do I even say. :///// I hate the thought of talking to Simo, but I’m going to bother Tes first. Thank god for Tes, I seriously cannot imagine how I would have survived without actually killing myself or just doing something really terrible if he wasn’t there as an in-between. For fuck’s sake... but also I’m beyond grateful for him. I’m frustrated to death about the stupid slide mounting bs BUT it’s going to pan out, I think dehydrating more is going to help... *rolls eyes* But it’s going to be fine.

The other thing I’m kinda anxious about is the monthly workshop thing because??? A little lost and confused on that... but I think I’m still haunted and afraid to death about doing it and failing. I’m just really freaked out about failure on this and I guess how other people would view me (fake, flaky, unreliable, etc.). It makes me uncomfortable and terrified to be the center of attention and not being perfect. That makes me unwilling to try to even do my best on the presentation because I feel like it’s going to fail and everything is going to come down in flames Augh. I think I’m catastrophizing it since my last workshop thing went quite well... but I’m just very in my head on it I think. Very very nervous and in my head.

I guess in general I feel both lacking and growth in my confidence. The more roles I hold in lab, the more confident I feel... But a part of me wonders why do I have the right to do this? I don’t know what I’m doing, I’m just giving some guesses on how to do X and I’m shaking beneath the fear of being yelled at by Simo (just fun feelings in lab ya know). I feel insecure by Aftan which is GREAT sigh. I know this insecurity and a lot of my problems will dissolve when I can move forward with more confidence but it’s just so hard. I feel so much pressure and I don’t feel like I can rely on anyone (except maybe Tes) and I have to be perfect at all costs or I’ll be thrown away and deemed useless. I’m tying my worth too closely to how productive and impactful I am in the lab, rather than who I am.

But I think, I can gain meaningful confidence when I think of how I’ve been able to support the new postbacs emotionally. I think being able to talk with Ethan about project fears or Sara with things being difficult at home and the car shebang has allowed me to feel like I could at least be someone that people can rely on a bit when things are overwhelming. Also being able to help the postdocs during the sac as well. These are things that matter to me, personally and emotionally, because I want the people I care about to succeed and feel comfortable and their best. Being able to help people in these ways have been rewarding.

Confidence... I think when I reflect on my lack of confidence, it comes from having my mistakes be blasted even when I was doing my best and not feeling like I could rely on anyone. I think there’s something inherent as well, but also at the same time, there’s something that grew into a yawning hole during my first year as a postbac especially in May. I think it was like a soft trauma/ reminded me really badly of my mother growing up and I think it just shook me really really badly. It makes me anxious and afraid even while I crave to be someone that people can look up to and rely on. It makes me feel even more sensitive and scared of criticism (public criticism esp) because I wonder if people will lost respect for me if I don’t perform at the absolute best.

But I think that my work so far has been of some worth to people, and I’ve helped a lot of people in what I could. If people lose respect for me or think that I’m lazy or not doing enough... then I guess there’s nothing I can really change on that. I don’t have much control over the breeding for the NQO1/ AD project and I’m constantly trying to find ways to advance the project for both me and Sara. Again, even with my confidence being chipped away at and constantly feeling on high-alert/ vulnerable, I know deep-down that I’m doing the absolute best that I can. The words from the OITE (?) office and Professor Newman are always going to be meaningful to me about how 1. I literally just graduated undergrad and don’t have a PhD, and 2. when the older postbacs told me that it’s not fair or appropriate for Simo to be assuming that I can do everything and anything for the project and forcing it down as my fault. And I know that. No matter what she reprimands or mocks me for, I know that I’m doing all that I can, this is a temp job, and that lastly, I’m not going to be hated by people I truly care about (the other postbacs and the postdocs). I don’t believe that I’m lazy when the opportunities I have are limited and scrunched down to nothing. So basically: no. No thanks. I’m going to do what I can, and it’s unfortunate that my progress is incredibly slow for IHC, but I’m going to do what I can. Alone.

For ISB, I’m afraid and nervous, but it’s not going to take too long. Like with college work, I just need to push myself to start with 2 minutes of work and then encourage myself to finish it and consider its impact on others. Yes.

I guess the last thing that’s been kinda on my mind has been about dating and relationships. I kinda have a floating crush on the postbac from the Beerman lab, but it’s very much... I don’t know you! And this will probably go nowhere but sure would be nice to talk to you. I’m proud of myself for reaching out to both Joey and Angelica! because it’s hecking hard to meet new postbacs (and even more so for old/ 2nd year postbacs). I think it’s going to be good, and hopefully my crush thing is figured out? I don’t know, I’m not going to be aggressive about it, just see what the vibe is with Joey. There’s a pretty solid chance that he already is dating someone anyway! so it won’t matter. I don’t think he’s probably a bad person, but also good thing to figure that out too! It really is just a crush that’s based on looks and how he talked (about stem cells and about healthcare equality? absolutely 11/10 we love to see it. My bar is really so---). I’m intrigued about what he’s like because there’s a chance that we could at least get along! 

Dating in general? I’m still pretty pessimistic about it all, like... well. I just feel like who am I gonna meet in this year that I’ll seriously date? So maybe someone on Hinge to at least befriend, but. Outside of that? I sorta found the new postbacs kinda cute but they are ABSOLUTELY off the table because that’s immoral of me. So I’ll keep it down to just being on the DL about it all and having fun with all of the postbacs on a casual level. I don’t think I could handle labcest jfc.

But yeah, I mean... Unless I start going out to more postbac events (which, fair) then I doubt it. I guess I also did want to be friends with Liam too, so maybe I’ll reach out to him to hang out like with the other two postbacs. But we’ll see. He seems really nice and friendly! but also I’m not out here tryna matchmake for myself either, especially, again, when I have 0 idea where I might even be next year, what state, what coast, what geographical region, maybe even what kind of job if shit all falls through (hnngh). So definitely... friends are the way to go, at least to get to know people. I am hoping my straight forward awkwardness can be bonding rather than a wedge between me and other people, but! I’m hoping that I can make friends at least, and make the most of this time. Took a lot of initiative (a “lot”, yeah lol) on my part, but I’d like to know more people anyway. Maybe this is how adults make friends anyway lmao. And if they’re like eww who is this, then obv that’s a good sign for me to leave.

I guess I’ll set up some time or just ask Joey’s availability this week? And see how it goes. Yeah I do have a fleeting crush but it’ll probably be just like with Ryan or Ephraim or all the other rando guys that I’ve talked and then just stopped because of ghosting, not vibing, awkward, hmeh, etc. And yeah, to think I was pretty hung up over them too like oomf, I guess in some ways it hurt but in other ways, they were people who were just passing through my life and that I was hoping could stay for longer. And yet I met Quey and also Julia, who are both close friends for me now and whom I didn’t know or expect to stay in my life like this while in Baltimore. And the postbacs now are people I really like and want to stay in touch with even after my postbac years. I’m grateful for them, and the postdocs. So while romantically my life’s been (and I guess always has been) in tatters, at least I found relationships that really enrich my life and my heart a lot, especially now. It’s probably just better for me to be open-minded about it all... Maybe we’ll be friends, maybe we’ll be passerbys, and maybe it’ll be terrible! But hopefully i can learn or get something out of it that’s fun and different from my usual routine. I think that’s a healthy way to go about it.

Relationships in general would be pretty fun, at this point, like to just hang out. But I think I also have a ton of friends I want to keep on hanging out with, so when would this person have much time for me and vice versa? I want to live up my final postbac year here because I doubt (sigh... hoping to doubt) that I’ll stay in Baltimore for much longer after this year. I’ll definitely not be able to see everyone that I want to, that’s for sure. Tammy will be gone gone, and I want to have a lot of fun with her and Maya and Julia and Quey while he’s here, and the new postbacs too. Summer too and Yurim and maybe any possible  new friends I make. I want it to be good, even if applications go super bad or I have to be at UMD lmfao. So! Tldr dating would be fun if it happened but it’s also totally hmeh and I’ll have loads of fun and good times even without dating someone (also I can imagine that would be really stressful in a sense too, because like... yikes I’m simply inexperienced in it all lmfao. And I’d have to think of where they were going or their future plans after this year? Sounds stressy.).

#reflection

[princeanxious]

I woke up at 4 am this morning to waiat in a line, i had maybe a half an hour nap when i got back before i took my meds bc i couldn’t fall back asleep, it is my only day off, and i have been sitting here drawing dukeceit doodles for the past four hours instead of finishing my dinner and going to do the dishes and also my laundry, because i have work tomorrow, and no clean pants to wear,

And it is. 12:35am.

Have i moved yet? No.

Do i plan to? Yes!

Do i know when the fuck that’ll be because it means i gotta do chores and then get ready for bed? No, nadda fucking clue tbh. I could be awake for another three hours staring at fuck all and still get nothing done if i felt like it(and, most times, even when i *do* want to get stuff done)

I’d ask why/how my life has come to this but I’ve learned damn well to stop asking questions i dont have the energy to answer myself

#luka rants #i feel like i am an embodiment of exhaustion rn. like. i already felt that way before today bc my body sucks & so does work #but i’m also pretty sure i’m taking a slow but rapidly steepening dip in physical health and resultingly mental health as well #i sway when i sit or stand and i already have shit balance. i’m always so fucking exhausted but i dont really have the resources to take- #-more than one day off atm w/o getting closer to trouble than i’d like w/ marks against my job #so i have to save it for like. important shit #it takes a month to get enough hours to take off 1 full shift and woo boy every day i feel i’m that much closer to actually like #tripping and either busting my head open or spraining/breaking a bone from my body’s sheer lack of energy regeneration it seems #its been like. a back to back wake up get ready for work go to work come home do chores hopefully finish eating then collapse till 4 am #only to realize i hadnt gotten ready for bed so i get up and do that bc i wont be able to sleep if i dont and then wake up and repeat till #my next day off over which i literally collapse and have no ability to do anything and usually dont even get peace in resting bc #i’m expected to just. treat it like a day off and be open to going out or doing something or be sighed at because i’m too exhausted #to even fucking exist and am expected to be exciteable and sociable like i used to be but i literally do not have a sense of self anymore #i dont have the energy to do anything fun outside of sometimes drawing. not even talking about stuff i like. #it’s borderline insane to just be able to reflect on how exhausted i am and not knowing how to deal or ask for more help. and so my current #help thinks i’m just being a little lazy and god how terrible am i to just let that stand bc i feel like its true. even as i sit here and #ridicule myself for not being able to do basic shit like standing up and putting dishes away or cleaning my clothes or fucking. smiling! #i dont have the energy to ‘prefer’ anything bc all of it is just focused on surviving the next hour #the next day. the next week #‘what do you want to do with your life for/after college’ is so hilariously depressing to be asked because?? #i dont. know #i’ll be happy to make it to next week without accidentally offing myself at work to make enough to pay off the stupid medical bill #for another stupid issue in my body that should not be so severe but is anyway #maybe i dont want to go to fucking college or be expected to hone in on some future specialized career just to live life #maybe i’m not actually fucking capable of answering that question bc it seems my body is trying to off me at literally every chance it gets #god im so fucking tired

[miyagifangkai]

Melt With You

Request: cute Robby x reader request? Something like the girl and Robby really like each other. (Secretly in love but won’t admit it) Long story short she finds Robby after he gets beat up and she helps him…heal up. Helps him bandage up his wounds and cuts. Eventually she confesses she loves him. He confesses it back.

Tagged: @fangirling-alot

Word Count: 2.3k

Characters Involved: Robby Keene, Reader, and a mention of Hawk

Couple Pairing: Robby x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, kissing, mentions of blood, bruises, some angst, and I think that’s it?? (:

A/N: I loved writing this!!! I love Robby so much, ya’ll. A baby boi! ❤️ thank you so much for this request! I hope you love it! (:

You and Robby have been best friends for about a year now.

The both of you are always hanging out together either going out to get some food, help each other with homework, or even just to be around each other. There’s a few times that he’s even taken you skateboarding and, quite frankly, ended in disaster.

“Hey, you wanna see my favorite spot?” Robby asks you while you were sitting in your car eating some ice cream.

“Whoa, wait, Mr. I Hate Everything has something that he actually likes?”

“Screw you!” Robby laughs. You can’t help but smile at him being completely enamored by his laugh, “You wanna see it though?”

“Ugh, fine,” you sigh, “but if it’s boring I am so leaving you behind.”

“Okay, deal,” Robby reaches out his hand to shake yours. You hesitate to touch his hand because you knew you were gonna blush from touching him but you didn’t want to be rude to your friend. You put on your best poker face and shake his hand, keeping your awkward straight face at bay.

Robby points you to what looks like a bunch of half pipes and more things that skaterboys do. Your face lights up at the thought of Robby trusting you enough to show you his hobby.

“Dude!”

He turns in his seat and looks at you, “Don’t judge me,” his face drops a little.

“I’m so not judging you, dude,” You look back at Robby, “This is honestly so cool, man!”

“Oh my god, really?”

“Yes! Really!” you laugh at him, “Is my bestie an actual skaterboy?”

“Please don’t even go there,” he hits your arm. You both laugh for a little bit and you finally say, “So you’re gonna show me your moves?”

“Um, hell yes I am! I’m gonna school you on some skate logic,” Robby’s face brightens up and you two exit the car.

Robby borrows a skateboard from one of his friends and you take a seat on the ground to watch him.

“Hold up, girlfriend! I’m not letting you sit there and watch, lazy,” he puts out his hands and you grab them and stand up still reeling from the fact that he called you “girlfriend.”

He sets the skateboard down and says, “Alright, jump on.”

“Excuse me? Jump on? Do you want me to die? Was this your plan all along?”

“Shit! You caught me, you meddling kid,” Robby says this terrible joke in a completely deadpan tone which somehow made the joke more funny.

“I just want you to know that I’m only laughing at that because you suck at jokes but that’s what I love about you,” you immediately shut your mouth and notice Robby’s demeanor change.

“You love something about me? Really?” Robby scoffs, “I didn’t think you were capable of that.”

“Okay, dude, calm down. Don’t get too hung up on that,” you try to wave off his smirk, “let’s start the lesson.”

“Okay, so the first thing you need to learn is balance.”

Robby grabs your arm and you hold onto him as you place your foot on the skateboard. You start to place your other foot on the board, you almost tip over, “holy shit!”

“It’s okay! I got you, okay? I won’t let you fall,” Robby chuckles, “at least not yet.”

“Fuck you,” you smile at him but your happy face overcame with anxiety.

Once you get your balance Robby starts to slowly let go of you just leaving you standing there and balancing on your own.

“Okay, I’m balanced,” you slowly turn your head towards Robby, “How do I move?”

“You push yourself with one of your feet.”

You put one foot down on the ground and push yourself; you feel yourself start to lean too much and out of a panicked reaction you stop yourself, “This is so much harder than it looks, dude.”

“I know it is! Here, let me show you.”

You clumsily step off the skateboard and Robby shows you the proper way on how to ride a skateboard. He made it look so easy and he surprisingly looked so graceful while doing it. He rides back towards you and jumps off, “Wanna try again?”

You nod your head and step back on. You gain your balance but end up pushing yourself too hard and end up wiping out on the ground.

“Holy shit, Y/N!” Robby runs towards you checking out if you were alright. You start to giggle, “I’m okay. Don’t worry.” You lift up your arm and see blood on your elbow.

“Yeah, you’re gonna need a bandaid,” you and Robby both chuckle.

After that you and Robby made that place your hang out spot even though you refused to try to skate again and just enjoyed watching Robby do his thing.

You were home alone tonight due to your parents both working the night shift. You came home after school to a note on the fridge saying that leftovers were in the fridge and they both love you. You didn’t mind being alone most days; even though you hung out with Robby most of the time. He would always leave before sunrise so you didn’t have to sit and drudge through a stern lecture about how boys were bad news. You heat up your leftovers and sit on the couch and turn on the tv. You had texted Robby earlier but you got no response which was weird but you just brushed it off, maybe he was busy. You were enjoying your food and your show until you heard a knock on the door. Usually, the neighborhood was pretty quiet after 10:00pm so you had a feeling it was Robby. You hear another stream of quick knocks which makes you jump off the couch, “Coming! Gosh, impatient.” All you heard was silence on the way to your door. You open it up and see a battered Robby.

“Oh my god,” you can’t help but gasp at him, “Are you okay?”

“Please… can I come in?”

“Ye–uh–yeah, of course,” you were in complete shock and didn’t exactly know what to do or say.

Robby walks to your kitchen limping and holding his side and he gets out a dish towel and wets it, proceeding to lay it on his forehead for some kind of relief. When Robby gets in the light you now see all of the damage. Bloodied hands, bruises, and a black eye. There was blood on his shirt near his side.

“Oh my god, Robby. Let me get some gauze.”

You always have a med kit in your house for safekeeping. You'd like to call yourself a doomsday prepper but you weren’t rich enough for that label. Robby always made fun of you for it; like you were a walking supply woman. He’s not wrong.

You come back to Robby struggling to keep his eyes open and you almost start to freak out but you keep your cool so you don't stress him out even more. You start tending to Robby’s wounds starting with his face. You wipe off the dirt and put some rubbing alcohol on the wound hearing Robby wince, “I’m so sorry, Robby,” you say as you keep cleaning off his wounds. Robby had nothing to say to you; he regretted coming here now and worrying you.

“Okay, take your shirt off. Let me check out your side,” you look into his eyes, tears threatening to spill out.

Robby complies and you turn around as he takes his shirt off giving him privacy, “Why did you turn around? You’re gonna see me without my shirt anyways.”

“Keene, this is no time for jokes. I wanted to be respectful,” you turn back around and you’re greeted with his bruised up torso. You look at the gash on his side and automatically start tending to it, you hear him start breathing hard and trying to hide his winces.

“I’m so sorry,” you say and you meant it. You couldn’t help but feel bad for Robby. You knew the kind of life he had. He wasn’t able to show you his apartment until about six months into your friendship.

“This is the humble abode.” Robby spreads his arms out and turns around to look at you. You didn’t make any faces at him or want to offend him so you keep a straight face.

“The power got shut off again about a week ago. So, the refrigerator is off limits.”

You didn’t have the strength to laugh at his joke being astounded by the condition he’s living in.

“Robby–”

“Hey, don’t. I don’t need any sympathy. I just thought I’d show you where I live. We’ve been friends for a while now,” Robby tries to fake a smile towards you.

“The place isn’t so bad, you know?”

“What do you mean?” Robby asks with a confused look.

“I mean, why don’t you light some candles and make a fort?”

“Okay, walking fire hazard, calm down.”

You weren’t gonna let his glass half empty outlook on life get in the way of your idea this time.

You roll your eyes, “How about we go to the store and get some cheap flashlights and a few board games? Let’s have some fun!”

“You’re serious?”

“Hello? Of course, I am. I am killer at Candy Land, dude.”

“I wish we could but I’m broke right now.”

You pull out $100 and say, “I mean I’m not rich but let’s have some fun.”

You and Robby go out and get supplies for your sleepover. Sporting Candy Land, a few blankets, and some lanterns. You decide to go for a cheap option for dinner with McDonald’s and some candy from Dollar Tree.

You guys get back to his place and set up for the night. After you two set up everything and start playing some Uno you catch Robby looking at you.

“Okay, why are you staring at me? You know that’s rude, Mr. Keene.”

“I’m not staring! I’m just observing.”

“Observing? Sure, you are. Is the light from the cheap lantern’s just illuminating my face so nicely?”

Robby scoffs, “Haha sureee… you definitely look better with the lights off, that’s for sure.”

You gasp and push him, “Excuse you! I have feelings, you know!”

This time Robby fake gasps at you, “You? Feelings? Never!”

You both crack up and you look back down at your cards, “Okay, the color is red!”

“Dammit! I hate this game,” Robby exclaims with a smile. You look up at him and you catch a glimpse of Robby staring again. This time you couldn’t hide your blush so you look at him again and say, “What is it?”

“Nothing. I’m just so thankful that I met you.”

Your hands begin to shake a little, “Yeah, ditto.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

You just purse your lips and try not to look at his face because once you did you’d start crying. You finished cleaning up his wounds and lay everything down on the counter.

“God, my head hurts,” Robby lays his hand on his head and closes his eyes for a second.

You immediately rush to the medicine cabinet and grab some tylenol and pour him a glass of water.

“Here, take these. It won’t entirely help but it’ll take the edge off.”

Robby takes the Tylenol and drinks the water, “thank you.”

“Come on, let’s get you to the couch.”

You help Robby walk to the couch and let him get situated. You then sit down and lay his legs over you.

You couldn’t stand the mystery anymore, “Are you able enough to tell me what happened?”

“Assholes jumped me.”

“Who?”

“Hawk.”

“Oh. I hate him.”

“Yeah? As do the rest of us,” Robby moves a little too fast and jolts from the pain.

“Dude, don’t move so much!”

“Sorry, I'm trying not to,” Robby looks at you and you look back at him, “Hey, stop worrying. I’ll be alright.”

“I know but it’s still scary, okay?” You start to feel the word vomit spill out, “I can’t lose you, Robby. I love you,” you place your hand over your mouth with wide eyes.

“You what?”

You take in a deep breath and look him in the eyes, “I love you, Robby Keene. I really do.”

His face starts to get some color back into it, “I love you too.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I love you. So much.”

Your whole entire body starts to tense up. You were so happy that you didn’t know how to react. You could tell Robby wanted to kiss you but was in too much pain to move. You move his legs off of you and you slowly and gently get on top of him and lean down to kiss him. He kisses you back and you could tell he’d been waiting a long time for you to do this.

“Is this okay?” Robby needed to reassure himself.

“Yes. This is more than okay, you meddling kid,” you tried to recreate Robby’s deadpan voice causing him to sigh, “you’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Absolutely not,” you laugh at him.

You kiss him again and you two spend the rest of the night together on the couch.

Despite Robby’s pain he stayed up all night with you even though you begged him to rest.

“I’m not falling asleep and missing tonight, Y/N. I never want to forget it.”

“You’re not gonna forget it, Robby. Because I mean, look at this,” you point to yourself, “I’m just that amazing.”

“You’re such a nerd,” he chuckles.

“I take that as a compliment, thank you very much.”

Ignoring the stinging in his arms he pulls you down to him and you lay your head lightly on his chest and feel his warmth surround you.

You start to hear him doze off a bit at sunlight and you didn’t even care that your parents were coming home soon all you could do was mutter, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he kisses the top of your head.

Nothing was going to get better than this. Robby in your arms; letting yourself melt into him.

#cobra kai #johnny lawrence #daniel larusso #miguel diaz #eli moskowitz #demetri cobra kai #karate kid #hawk moskowitz #robby keene #tanner buchanan #robby keene x reader #cobra kai imagine

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hi hi hiii (oh lord not being in anon mode is wild), I hope you are doing well! I looooove your writing hun, it's just so so so good I die every time (Ｔ▽Ｔ)

I would like to request a manipulative but caring villain x a distraught but fighting hero (like, they clearly have 🌠problems🌠 but they never allow themself to be helped I guess?)

Thank you in advance, hope you can write it at some point >< Please take care darling!

“You’re stressed,” the villain stated. There was no judgement in their voice. Nothing to indicate any kind of emotion. Nothing to force a reaction. It was an observation, a neutral comment. It was probably not supposed to indicate anything, to provoke anything.

So, it was surprising, not only for the villain, but also for the hero themselves that they snarled.

“I’m not. I am fine.” I am fine was the wrong expression — the truth couldn’t be further from I am fine. But the villain didn’t need to know that. They would probably turn the hero’s feelings and words around until they fitted and were soaked with their ideas.

Being a hero wasn’t the easiest job in the world. The amount of anxiety and panic attacks had doubled in the last month. Astonishingly little was present in their mind. Memories became blurry. People were dying in their arms every once in a while and it wouldn’t stop.

The hero’s mentor told them it was fine. It was unavoidable, part of the job. But the hero didn’t accept that. It wasn’t an answer for them, no, it was an easy way out — a lazy justification they could never agree with.

“My little hero. You’re not fine.” The hero simply didn’t care about how the villain had gotten into their dirty living room this rainy evening. It wasn’t like the villain would explain it step by step anyway… “Is something upsetting you?”

“We can start with the stranger in my house,” the hero said. They only noticed how much they were frowning when their forehead started to hurt.

“Oh, come on. I’m not a stranger. You know more about me than anyone else. You know all the details. You know my dirty secrets and you know my favourite food. You know everything you need to know. Except for my identity.” Point for the villain. The hero knew a lot about them. More than they had ever wanted to find out in the first place.

But the most important thing — their civilian identify — was untouchable. The villain however had known the hero’s identity a month after their first fight.

“God, you’re basically carrying yourself around, did you know that?”

“Like I said, I am fine,” the hero answered. They got up from the couch, walking towards their nemesis until they were eye to eye.

“It’s hard, isn’t it?” the villain continued. “To fight the feeling to give in? To finally rest for a bit and close your eyes for more than just two hours?”

The hero looked at them, alarm clocks going off somewhere in their brain. Yes, the hero did have problems with sleeping. No, the villain shouldn’t know that.

“I know this feeling. I know you want to be the best, the greatest. But you’re destroying yourself. I know how to handle this, too,” the villain said.

“You want to help me.”

“No, I want to show you how to help yourself,” the villain said. “Do you really think people will love you more when you’re crawling to save them? Do you think it will be easier for you once you’re at the end of your tether?”

The hero didn’t reply.

“Do you really think the citizens will be thankful? They will look down at you. They will continue to criticise you. You won’t find happiness when you’re beating yourself up like this.” The villain studied them. Then they swallowed and continued.

“You have to know people are terribly greedy. They want all the good things for themselves. They can’t stand imperfection.” The villain’s hand found the hero’s wrist. “But you out of all people know it doesn’t exist. Nothing will complete you on this earth if you fight for it.”

The villain’s fingertips went over the hero’s naked arms agonisingly slowly.

“Because no one wins in a fight. You lose either way. You lose morally. Physically. Mentally. Pick your poison. Being complete comes with being content.”

The villain’s thumb reached the hero’s chin.

“And I am the only thing which completes you.”

#writing snippet #heroxvillain snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #request #an answer for an ask

[wutheringmights]

Can I be greedy and ask for all of the boys ? And any characters you have strong opinions on? Pretty please? With lots of cherries and chocolate on top? ( for the ask meme ofc)

Anon, I'll finish up all of the boys in the Chain just for you. And trust me, I have an Infinite Amount of Strong Opinions. You have no idea how Opinionated I Am.

If anyone is coming in late to this, here are the boys I have done already and a short summary of my thoughts (click the hyperlinks to get the full Opinion):

Warriors: he's best when he's the trashy anti-Link, and I like him so much

Twilight: kind of boring, but I have a soft spot for him anyway because you never forget your first

Wind: should have been aged up a little so that he can have that identity crisis I'm craving

This... gets long. Really long. 3-hours-of-work-long. Before you read, please note that even when I speak negatively about something, it’s not to diss anyone who does like the thing. I’m not vague posting or being passive aggressive. This is all written in good humor and good faith. 

That being said, let’s a-go!

-Sky-

What I love about them: He has one of the best character arcs of all the Links. I love that he starts off being lazy and kind of a jerk, but grows as a person because he wants to save his friend. And I love that he's truly the most courageous Link. He has no other successful hero of past or legacy to lean back upon to reassure him. He walked into that fight with Demise with no assurance from anyone that he would succeed. Yet, he does it anyway. Because he's a true hero and someone had to be one. And he's rewarded with a curse that he does not initially take seriously. He thinks he's saved everyone, yet he's cursed his spirit, possibly his bloodline, and his entire legacy of the kingdom of Hyrule into a doomed cycle of destruction. All because he dared to face evil incarnate. I love him.

What I hate about them: You know how I called Twilight boring? I should have saved that critique for Sky. LU Sky is actually the most boring interpretation of his character. All of his negative traits? Gone. All of his positives? Also gone. He's the blandest version of himself, and like Twilight, I now feel like I gotta add some spice to him to make him more interesting while still keeping him recognizable. Even so, he's still one of my favorite Links.

Favorite Moment/Quote: When he kicks Twilight's ass at sword fighting. That's stuff is *chef's kiss*

What I would like to see more focus on: You would think that there would be more angst out there about him realizing that he's actually been cursed, but it's still kind of hard to find. He's the Cursed Knight! The beginning of a terrible legacy! Imagine meeting a bunch of heroes for the first time, and instead of being relieved at having someone who understands your experiences, you're filled with horror at realizing that your victory was a false one. You didn't win. Your spirit will never be at rest. Imagine dealing with that realization for the rest of your life. You could never be at peace.

What I would like to see less focus on: I love that he loves his wife, but he's more just the fact that he's married, y'know? I would like to see a little less blind devotion to Hylia and Zelda, and more complicated feelings about being manipulated into being the hero.

Favorite pairing with: Sun/Link/Groose OT3! I have no reasoning behind this other than I like Groose and Groose definitely had a crush on SkSw Link.

Favorite friendship: I won't answer Groose again even if I want to, so I'll say Warriors. I cannot begin to describe how elite this friendship would be if you gave it a chance. They're just two boys dealing with unique positions of leadership and responsibility. They would probably even bond over being shitheads at different ends of the shithead spectrum. It's so good, okay?

NOTP: Ghirahim. I'm not too adverse to this one, but the ship hinges on whether you can redeem Ghirahim or not. In my opinion, Ghirahim is awesome because he's such a fun villain. Redeeming him ruins the fun.

Favorite headcanon: I have a whole life story planned out for Sky. Basically, he lives to be close to 500 years old by the power of the Triforce. He is the Link throughout the Era of Chaos who banishes the Dark Interlopers to the Twilight Realm and seals the Triforce in the Sacred Realm. He actually seals himself in the Sacred Realm as well to keep the Triforce safe, and he fought Ganondorf in when he broke in. Sky, like Time and Wind, does not get a happy ending.

-Four-

What I love about them: Four is origin of the heroes of Hyrule being known for being children. What a legacy to leave behind. He's such an interesting case of an incarnation of the Hero's Spirit, too. He fought Vaati, and he did his job so well that Demise's next incarnation had to be Ganondorf. Four did his job the best out of everyone, and it came at the cost of creating a magic sword that changed him permanently. I like to think that the Four Sword was not meant to split him, that it was a mistake he made with the design. And it's sad, isn't it? You made a defective sword, and like any good sword, it has a symbolic double edge. It gifted you with so much, and yet he can never be the same again. And his story is never well-remembered because it is overshadowed by the Links who fought the King of Evil. He's does so much, yet his legacy is underappreciated.

What I hate about them: I want to prepare you for this Opinion, because I know it's unpopular. Are you ready? Okay. I don't like the Colors. I'm sorry. I want to like them, but they don't interest me at all. Because they are parts of Four’s personality, they have to be one-note archetypes which does not make for exciting storytelling. I also haven't found a fic yet that has been from Four's POV that did the internal monologue of the Colors in a way that wasn't a pain in the ass to read. Maybe if someone can figure out how to do the Colors in a way that doesn't feel like a drag, I would like them more. But in the end, I think Four himself is more interesting than the Colors.

Favorite Moment/Quote: The fact that he didn't want to touch the Master Sword because he doesn't trust magic swords. That is every I need to know about his opinion on his own adventures.

What I would like to see more focus on: I want more of Four as Four. It's getting harder to find content of Four being his own person first and the Colors second.

What I would like to see less focus on: Four being the Colors first and his own person second. There is something about viewing Four as this cover identity for the Colors that doesn't feel right. There's a balance that needs to be strike between his ability to split, how that affects his every day life, and his own identity of being Four. I think I may have read one fic that hit that sweet spot for me, but still.

Favorite pairing with: Shadow. I'm such a sucker for befriending and falling for the enemy. That is all.

Favorite friendship: Dot! Their friendship is super cute. I like the idea of them being super close when they were younger and struggling to keep the friendship going as they age due to how much their paths in life diverge.

NOTP: This isn't necessarily a Four or an LU problem, but people who ship the Colors together? Bro. C'mon.

Favorite headcanon: I'm torn between two different Four and the Master Sword headcanons. On one hand, Four thinking that the Master Sword is just legend until he meets Sky and everyone else is just a fun idea. He sees the legendary sword for the first time and his mind is blown. On the other hand, I also like my Four with a side of hubris. What if he had the option on his quest to draw the Master Sword himself? What if he could tell that if he did that, the consequences would be terrible. He's not sure what would happen, but he knows it would be terrible. So he decided to make his own sword instead to disastrous results. Wouldn't that be tragic or what?

-Time-

What I love about them: Last winter, I did a two hour powerpoint for my friends about the Legend of Zelda timeline. During that powerpoint, I was rating every iteration of Link. What I said about the Hero of Time then holds true to my thoughts of LU Time now. Time is the original Link, more so than Sky in the lore and Legend/Hyrule in real life. Every other hero is a reflection of him. So the fact that his story is about the loss of childhood and the tragedy of that is incredible, and you can see those themes reflected in every other game. Moreso, he’s the only Link with a confirmed tragic ending. Not only does he end his life unsatisfied, but his adventure is failure on every timeline. In the adult timeline, Hyrule is swallowed by the sea. In the child one, Ganondorf returns again. In the fallen timeline, Hyrule fell. I like the idea since that the games themselves are the legends that are past down about each hero, Hylians have also remembered Time as a tragic figure. Yet, they also remember that the happy moments for his life come from small acts of kindness. Even someone as sad as him finds joy in helping others, even if it’s just to small deeds that will not be heralded as grand heroic quests. It’s beautiful.

What I hate about them: This is more about Mask than Time, but Mask is not an adult in a child’s body. He did not rewind time in Termina enough to be considered mentally an adult. He’s a young teenager at best, and that’s me being generous. He is a child who was forced to be an adult and despite the gods being done with him, he cannot conceive of ever having a childhood again. So he can say all he wants that he’s an adult, but he is not. That’s just what he thinks he is.

Favorite Moment/Quote: Anytime we get a flashback to him being a younger adult is great. I want to see more of his in this his early adulthood.

What I would like to see more focus on: I think I just want more of Time being... not a bad leader, but being an imperfect one. I honestly think he’s only the leader because he’s the oldest and enough of the heroes recognize the title of Hero of Time. But he is not the leader type, and he is struggling to keep it together and has to defer to Twilight and Warriors for help a lot. 

What I would like to see less focus on: I’m not the biggest fan of Dad!Time for any of the Links. He’s not emotionally ready for it. And I think he defaults to treating the boys like adults because that’s how he wanted to be treated when he was their age. 

Favorite pairing with: Malon. He has this great partnership of equal respect with her and it’s just. So good.

Favorite friendship: Linebeck. I know. This exists only in my head. But if these two ever meet, you cannot convince me that they would not get along swimmingly. It would be so good (once Linebeck gets over his crush on Time and stops hitting on him, of course).

NOTP: Child Timeline Zelda. Let me explain: I fully believe in Bi Time supremacy, and when in OoT, he definitely had a crush on Sheik. However, one of the worst parts of rewinding time and being in the child timeline is that Zelda is a completely different person now. They may have been friends in the other timeline, but her life experiences are completely different now. She is not the same person as he once knew. And it’s tragic to know someone as who they could have been, not as they are.

Favorite headcanon: After Termina, Time spent a lot of time with the Nabooru because out of everyone he knew, she’s the only who took him seriously even as a child. She has big older sister energy, and he considers her a part of his family. However, being treated as such made it easier for him to ignore his issues and put off his healing process by a few years.

-Legend-

What I love about them: Veteran of Heroes! What a freaking title. I love that he keeps on finding adventures, and that he keeps hustling. Even if he complains about never getting a break, you can tell that he loves helping others. He loves being on the road, never settling down, and finding adventure after adventure. Honestly, if any of the Links had a calling to be a hero, it’s him. Is he tired? Sure. Is he a little jaded after having saved Hyrule and a bunch of other kingdoms multiple times? Yes. But at the end of the day, he likes being a hero. This is who he is. His complaining is not genuine; he just plays the martyr because, at this point, he’s earned the right to.

What I hate about them: If you can’t tell by now, I have a, uh, different interpretation of Legend from popular canon. Fandom Legend is not right to me. He is unrecognizable. It is hard to write him because I feel like I have to balance what other people think Legend should be versus how I think he is. The people who are big Legend enjoyers probably feel the same way about my version of Warriors, and that’s fine. I’m not going to gel with every character and I don’t expect everyone to gel with how I see characters either. It’s goes both ways, y’know.

Favorite Moment/Quote: I like how subtly he tried to approach the Wolfie problem at first, trying to ask questions and get more proof before confronting Twilight. It’s a good touch.

What I would like to see more focus on: If I had to choose one thing, it’s this one throw away line about him never wanting to settle down. I’m telling you, folks! He likes his lifestyle! And did you see him when he does presenting the origins of the hero? He’s not bitter about being a hero! Legend is moody, but he is not angsty about the whole hero thing. Have fun with him please!

What I would like to see less focus on: If you can’t tell by now, Legend is my least favorite Link. There is a lot I want to see less of, but just to name one thing, it’s the headcanon that Fable is his sister. I live and die by common born Link, and whether he’s a legitimate heir or the royal bastard, I am more than bored with the persistent Prince!Legend content.

Favorite pairing with: Marin. It’s a good tragic story and I like it well enough. She’s cute, and he’s cute with her.

Favorite friendship: Warriors. I’m with everyone else on these two have peak sibling energy. They tease and pick on each other, but only they are allowed to mess with each other. They’re each other’s bully, and it’s always good to see.

NOTP: I do not have enough energy to have a lot of strong opinions about Legend’s romantic relationships, but I will mentioned that I have lost a lot of love for Ravio recently and am liking seeing him with Legend less and less. I have no better reason for this than the fact that I finally played ALBW and hate how many of my hard earned rupees he’s taken from me by withholding important, lifesaving items. Rat bastard.

Favorite headcanon: Remember my headcanon about him being the coolest bad boy folk hero on the block because everyone thinks he kidnapped Zelda? Yeah, I still stand by that one. I did good there.

-Hyrule-

What I love about them: If there is any Link that I would call a gutter rat, it is this one. I struggle a bit to talk about Hyrule since his games gives us so little, but in the end, I always fall back on him being a hero of the people. He is the one who has nothing and relates the best to people who are at their lowest. Yet, he is still a hero. He earns the right to be a hero because he helped Impa in her time of need. He’s selfless and competent. Even if he never got a traditional education, I bet he’s wicked smart too. He is the Link that symbolizes all of the parts of the Triforce the most. And, god. I cannot talk about him without mentioning the blood sacrifice part of LA. It’s such a cool concept, and I cannot imagine what it must be like to go from being the rough and tumble, win-at-all-costs fighting to protecting yourself first because if you don’t, the consequences are disastrous. It’s paradoxical, and it must be such a different mindset to fall into. But it must also be a blessing in disguise since now he has a reason to finally care about himself.

What I hate about them: Who started the Hyrule is innocent headcanon? Come over here because we need to exchange some words. If there is anyone who would be a realist and know how the world works, it’s this guy. And while we’re here, who came up with the Hryule is always lost headcanon? I also have some words for you. And you know what? WHILE WE’RE HERE, who let him be named Hyrule? I’m have more than choice words for you. His name scheme is the bane of my existence and the express reason why I don’t write him more. God.

Favorite Moment/Quote: That one panel where he takes utter delight in Warriors hiding from his scorned lovers? That is a central pillar in my understanding of Hyrule.

What I would like to see more focus on: Again, his relationship with other people. Even if his games are lacking in NPCs, we know from lore that he’s a good guy who will jump in to help others. He must know plenty of people, and I want to see who exists in his world with him. 

What I would like to see less focus on: I have an on-going joke with my brother that certain characters are Catholic, even if Catholicism does not exist in the world of the thing we’re watching or playing. Of course, we’re not being serious. we’re just joshing around. So imagine the gut punch I feel whenever I see people say Hyrule is Christian and realize that they’re being serious. I just can’t take it seriously.

Favorite pairing with: Aurora. It’s cute and I’m a sucker for that hero and royalty dynamic, especially when the hero is a peasant. It’s so cheesy, but I love it.

Favorite friendship: Legend. But not the way everyone else pairs them up as the grumpy one and the sunshine one. I think of it more as them being the pinnacle of boys being boys. They’re shitheads. They do stupid shit together. They both have a dark sense of humor. They joke that they’re practically the same person sometimes.

NOTP: uhhhhhhhhh.... Is he paired with anyone else?

Favorite headcanon: I love the idea that he just likes his way of life and refuses to accept anyone saying otherwise. Legend wants to teach him to read? Sorry, but he’s never had to read before in his life so he’s pretty sure he’ll never need it anyway. Want to participate in the treasured Hylian tradition of piercing your ears when you come of age? Why would he ever do that when a monster could rip those earrings off? He’s stuck in his ways and it frustrates everyone else to no end, but he has no interest in ever changing.

-Wild-

What I love about them: When I was 9, I spent my time online on Legend of Zelda forums. I remember one of my forum friends saying that they wanted a Legend of Zelda game where Link lost. And I think of that friend whenever I think about Wild. BOTW Link is the best Link that has ever been. He is the epitome of every trait we associate with any Link. He’s smart and sassy. He’s hard working and kind. But underlining all of that is the fact that he’s still the one who failed. If Demise’s Curse in SkSw is the set-up, the Great Calamity is the payoff. And I haven’t even talked about how confirming him as being non-verbal before the Calamity does so much for his characterization. I don’t even know where to start or how to articulate it. By game storyline alone, Wild is one of my favorites.

What I hate about them: You guys knew this one was coming, but I’m going to have to say it anyway. Fandom Wild.... not good. I’ve said it for half of these boys so far, but god is it true. I have a way I see Wild that is rarely done in the fandom. Fandom Wild has a lot of the traits I also see in Wild, but to all of the extremes. I will mention one thing in particular as being a pet peeve, and it’s how some people headcanon him as always being nonverbal. I know what they’re trying to do, and I think they’re on to something, but they’re also missing the point of what BOTW Link’s character arc is. I just wish more people would forget fandom and work more off of the games for how to characterize him.

Favorite Moment/Quote: Weirdly enough, my favorite moment is when he got mad at everyone for making fun of his Gerudo outfit, so he dumped Goron Spice in his cooking. It’s encapsulates a part of his character I think a lot of people forget about.

What I would like to see more focus on: I think he has a really complicated relationship with his past. He said himself that his old self felt like a different person, and I think that should be explored a lot more. That idea actually fascinates me so much that instead of CTB, I almost wrote a character study fic about Wild. His emotions are not as simple as feeling guilty about letting his friends die and not preventing the Calamity. His emotions would be so complicated and because I don’t have the time to explore it, someone else needs to do it for me.

What I would like to see less focus on: There is a weird fascination with Wild having memory loss and essentially being like a kid again. And this feels infantilizing to me. It honestly bugs me a lot every time I see it.

Favorite pairing with: I can’t decide between Zelda, Mipha, and Revali. They’re all different dynamics and they’re all good.

Favorite friendship: Paya. I firmly believe that Paya is Wild’s best friend. I am the only one in the world who believes this. But I am also the only one in the world who is correct. 

NOTP: Wild is good with everyone. Good for him!

Favorite headcanon: An essential scene of my Wild character study I will never write is one where his horse dies. He goes into shock and walks back to Kakariko to talk to Impa. But once he goes to her, he breaks down in tears and has an absolute melt down over the horse. And Impa sagely says, “It’s not about the horse, is it?” She’s implying that he’s actually mourning the loss of his friends, Hyrule, his life, everything-- but through his tears, he keeps tell her that she’s wrong. He barely remembers them. He doesn’t know them. He doesn’t have any feelings about them. He just really loved that horse. But Impa refuses to listen to him, just repeating over and over again: “it’s not really about the horse.”

And that’s it! That’s all of my opinions! I know a lot of my opinions are polarizing, but everything I said is in good faith, and I am not trying to diss anyone for how they approach these characters.

I welcome you to send me your Opinions on the Links, even if it’s just to disagree with me. I’m cool with it, and I like knowing what everyone else thinks!

#so there are my polarizing opinions #heed my note at the beginning and end about acting in good faith #anyway if you read all of this you are obligated to tell me some of your headcanons and opinions #sorry i don't make the rules except i actually do #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu #lu sky #lu four #lu time #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu wild #lu twilight #lu wind #lu warriors #me rambling #ask #anonymous

[fanficimagery]

When Enough is Enough pt. II

Imagine being let down one too many times by your best friend, only to end up making some new ones in the process.

Words: 8.5K Author’s Note: Okay so some of you asked to only be added to part 2 of this while others asked to be added everything Bucky.. and a few others weren’t exactly clear. So if you want to be tagged in any future Bucky related imagines please let me know so I can get your blog name written down on my list.

Tags:  @aya-fay @70s-chic @sipsteacasually @kaitlyn2907 @scarlettwitch99 @thingsforimagination  @mimilh @felicityofbakerstreet @eternalharry @eliwinchester99 @intothesoul​ @wintershadowkat  @b1sexualtonystark  @meredeph @miszswan

The Sunday before you are to return to work, you sleep in until nine in the morning. Your thoughts are immediately on Bucky's impending arrival and you couldn't help the butterflies that took flight in your stomach. He's a friend, just as all the others are, but you couldn't help but notice just how attractive this new friend of yours is. But not only does his attractiveness draw you in, his easy-going teasing and protectiveness does too. However, Bucky Barnes is still a man trying to find his footing in this world after all that's been done to him and finally getting his name cleared, and if he finds comfort with you then you're going to try your best and be the friend he needs.

So since you're not dressing to impress, you dress in your favorite lazy outfit after your shower- leggings, sports bra, a faded sleeveless band tee with the arm holes having been cut down to around your ribs, and a pair of socks. Damp hair gets gathered up into a messy bun and you walk around your apartment to pick up some things you had unknowingly left out.

You've skipped breakfast, so when there's a knock on your door and you open up to find Bucky standing there, you groan in relief. He raises both hands with paper bags hanging from each. "I come bearing sushi. Wanda let it slip how much you love it."

"Yesss." You step back, quickly taking in his own comfort outfit of sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt under an opened jacket. "Did you bring plenty of wasabi? And you can just kick off your shoes anywhere."

"Of course." He hands you the bags so he can kick off his shoes and strip out of his jacket before hanging it up. You don't know why, but seeing him in a short sleeve shirt makes you happy, knowing full well he was weird about his metal arm being out in the open. "And plenty of dipping sauce as well. Wanda was more than happy to give me advice."

"Wanda, huh?" You chuckle, leading the way to your kitchen. "You actually told her where'd you be?"

"Apparently I looked very pensive this morning. She asked and I figured she was a better confidant than Steve or Sam who would have made a big deal about us hanging out."

"True." Setting the bags down, you let him empty them while you head to the fridge. "Beer?"

"Yeah."

Grabbing him a beer and yourself a can of Cola, you return to the table and your eyes widen at the sight of all the sushi. "Damn, Barnes. That's a lot of sushi."

"Don't act like you won't eat half of it."

You laugh as you take a seat, handing him his beer and pulling a few trays to your side of the table. You take a container of wasabi and dipping sauce for yourself, and grab a pair of chopsticks to start digging in.

You moan in delight at your first taste, happily shimmying in your seat before taking another. Eventually, you ask, "So what are you going to do when I'm back at work and I can't keep you entertained by getting shitfaced?"

Bucky grins around his mouthful of food before chasing it down with a swig of his beer. "We actually got a mission comin' up so I'll be leavin' around mid-week."

"Well that sucks." You sigh. "Now who am I going to send random pictures to when I have downtime at work?"

He grins. "You can still send them to me. I just won't get back to you until after the mission's complete."

"Yeah, yeah."

The two of you continue to eat- Bucky dodging Steve's texts about where he is and when he's coming back, and you sending the middle finger emoji over and over to Wanda who keeps wondering how your date is going. Then once most of the sushi is gone and Bucky puts what little is left into the fridge, the two of you head to the living room. You immediately flop onto the couch as Bucky takes the plush recliner, only for you to hear him moving the chair into its reclined position seconds later.

"Oh. I definitely need to get one of these."

You laugh as he snuggles down and you pick up the remote to bring up your streaming services. "Anything you've been meaning to watch?"

"Not really. Just show me your favorites."

You start off with some humor by playing the Goonies. It's a movie that no matter how many times you've seen it, it always seems to make you laugh. And it seems Bucky is not immune either when they make Chunk to the truffle shuffle. Titanic plays afterwards, but only after making sure Bucky found it somewhat interesting after reading the movie summary to him. He is interested from beginning to end and doesn't even laugh at you when you shed a few tears for the old married couple who opt to stay in their bed as the room floods.

When a break is needed, you head off towards the bathroom as Bucky finishes off the leftover sushi. Both of you check your phones and read each other the missed text messages from Steve and his worrying behavior.

"Wanna tell Steve to fuck off via video message?" Bucky takes a moment to think on it before he grins and nods. "Excellent. Sit in the recliner. I'm gonna crawl up all in your business. That okay?"

"Yeah."

As Bucky gets comfortable in the recliner, you sit on the armrest before sliding down sideways onto his lap. You bring up the camera app on your phone and switch it to video, sliding your right arm behind Bucky's neck while holding your left arm out to capture the two of you on the screen. "Ready?"

"Sure, doll."

You chuckle quietly and then smirk mischievously as Bucky relaxes his expression into his best resting bitch face. After you hit record, you say, "Hey Rogers, stop being a little bitch and sending us text after text. I'm tryin' to fuck your best friend here." Bucky's expression cracks as he barks out a laugh and you turn to face him while grinning. You share a laugh with him before facing the camera once more. "Only joking, but seriously stop buggin' us. I promise to send him back in one piece."

As you prepare to send the text to Steve, Bucky says, "You're terrible."

"Whatever. Admit it, you adore me."

"Occasionally."

You huff another laugh as the video message finally sends. You and Bucky both watch as the delivered status turns to read, and then those three little dots appear as Steve starts typing his reply.

"Tell Bucky to wrap it before he taps it." You burst out laughing at Steve's text, Bucky's rumbling laughter only fueling yours even more. "God I hate your best friend sometimes." And before you climb off Bucky's lap, because honestly you were getting a little too comfortable, you send Steve a few middle finger emojis before deciding on a third movie to watch.

The third movie you choose is one that never fails to make you laugh- Bridesmaids. You had a moment of hesitancy because of the sex scenes, but you figured they were ridiculous enough that it wouldn't be awkward. Thankfully you're correct and you get the added bonus of hearing Bucky's laughter again during Megan's scenes, especially when they get food poisoning and are all fighting for the bathroom.

You and Bucky take yet another break after the film, just stretching and finding something to drink.

"So what's the verdict, Barnes? Are you enjoying the films?"

He grins. "Your taste is all over the place, huh? That last one we watched was raunchy."

"But hilarious! You need to watch the Hangover trilogy, but you definitely need to watch that with Steve and then watch him squirm at the pictures that roll with the credits."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Jurassic Park holds his attention and he can't help but comment how stupid one has to be to replicate dinosaur DNA and then open up a park with live dinosaurs. You laugh, but don't bother commenting. You'll tell him later there are more movies involved, with yet another idiotic man who felt he could get the park up and running once more.

It's getting dark, but it's still a little too early for dinner. One more movie and then you'll order or go out and pick something up.

"So this last one for the day is a movie that's directed more towards the female viewers, but you did ask for my favorite films and Practical Magic is my absolute favorite."

"Well put it on, doll."

As you press play on Practical Magic, you quickly grab a throw blanket and snuggle in. Instead of watching Bucky, you watch the film and mumble certain quotes to yourself. The magic scenes always bring a soft smile to your face just as Gary's confession to Sally of I wished for you too breaks your heart, and Sally and Gillian's heartfelt sister moment makes you cry.

Afterwards, Bucky hums in thought. "So that's your favorite?"

"Absolutely." You tell him. He's watching you curiously and you grin. "If I show you something, you promise not to laugh?"

"I'll try."

"Whatever. That's good enough for me." Standing up, you walk towards him and kneel, and tell him to pull your shirt sideways by the armhole next to your left arm. There on the back of your left shoulder and forever etched into your skin is a salt shaker, a rosemary plant, a lavender plant, and a heart. You then rattle off one of your favorite quotes to him. "Always throw spilt salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Plant lavender for luck and fall in love whenever you can."

Bucky chuckles as you get up, retaking your spot on the sofa. "You really are a fan of the movie."

You nod. "As a little girl, I was fascinated by magic. I thought I'd grow out of it, but I only grew more fond of it. And then I found Practical Magic and it had a bit of everything I adored."

"So what's the one scene that just gets you every time?"

"Ugh. You're making me choose?!" You feign being distraught and he grins. As you think about it, you keep coming back to two scenes in particular. "So there's two," you tell him, "and I'm not choosing between them." Bucky nods, awaiting your answer. "Gillian's possession. When Sally calls together the other mothers who were mean to her in order to make a temporary coven to save her sister, and Gillian begs Sally to just let her ghost ex have her."

Bucky hums. "That was a bit sad, doll. I saw you shedding a few tears over that."

"Mhm. And the other scene is when Sally comes clean to Gary and admits that she did a spell as a child to call forth her perfect love thinking it wouldn't exist, only it did. When Gary tells Sally that he wished for her too, it just breaks my fuckin' heart."

"Let me guess, you were one of the girls who cast her own spell after seeing that scene." You stay quiet for a moment and the second you feel your face heat, Bucky laughs. "What did you wish for?"

You groan quietly. "If I tell you, you can't laugh!" He only smiles in response and you know he won't drop it until you tell him. "Fine. So even though I knew it would never work, I gathered the weirdest objects and wished for a significant other with dark hair and colored eyes. He had to be protective and funny and love me for me. Simple."

For some reason you can't seem to meet Bucky's gaze then and you feel awkward the longer the silence stretches on.

"So dinner?" He asks.

"Oh god, yes please. Pizza and wings?"

"Sounds good."

You have the nearby pizza place on speed dial, so after finding out Bucky's preferences you make the call and place the order. It's going to be about a thirty minute wait, so you fill the time sending Steve pic after pic of Bucky who's none the wiser as he scrolls through his own phone and adding the most asinine comments to each picture. Steve thinks it's absolutely hilarious.

Then when the pizza and wings arrive, you beat Bucky to the door and thrust several bills at the delivery boy. He's more than happy with his tip and you hurriedly wave him off before shutting the door. You laugh at Bucky's disgruntled expression and then place everything on the table while gathering a beer for both you and him.

"Don't let me have more than two," you tell him while handing him his own bottle of beer.

Bucky agrees and the two of you dig into your own personal pizzas and boxes of wings once you're situated around the table. As you're eating, Bucky asks about what other movies you hold near and dear. You fill him in on a few others and he hesitantly puts it out there that he'd be up for another movie marathon when you both have a day off. You agree that that's doable.

Halfway through dinner, as you and Bucky are chuckling over the thought of making Steve sit through Bridesmaids, there's a sound of glass breaking from your living room and a muffled curse. The two of you immediately cease making any type of noise and Bucky is up with a gun in hand.

"Where the hell did that come from?! You hiss.

The telltale sound of a window then sliding shut can be heard.

"Shut up and get behind me."

The authority in his voice makes you freeze and your heart flutter at the same time, and you have to mentally scold yourself before you quickly do as he says. You follow Bucky towards the living, ready to duck at the ready, only to sigh and roll your eyes when you see who it is.

Bucky stands tall and lowers his gun. "Parker." You can practically hear the annoyance in his voice.

"Mr. Barnes?" Peeking around his shoulder, you raise your eyebrow at your best friend who's been too busy for you and is now frowning at Bucky. When he catches sight of you, he asks, "What's going on?"

"Uh, well we were having dinner until we thought someone was breaking in."

"Alone?!"

Your brow furrows at Peter's incredulousness, only for him to realize you're not impressed with his tone. You raise an eyebrow at him and cross your arms over your chest. "Did you need something?"

"Oh, um, yeah." He shifts from foot to foot, gesturing to his face where there's a scrape on his cheekbone. "My ribs took a beating too. Can you patch me up?"

"Sure." You sigh. "Why not."

Before you can leave to go to the bathroom to get the supplies you need, Bucky says, "I'll just get out of your way then."

You stop and face him. "What? But we haven't even finished our food. It won't take me long."

"It's fine, doll." He grins when he realizes you're trying to get him to stay. "You gotta hit the hay early anyway. We'll talk soon."

You hold his gaze for a moment longer, sighing when he won't budge. "Well at least take your food with you. No use in it going to waste."

Bucky nods and heads back to the kitchen, collecting his food. You watch him and then follow him to the door, holding his food while he bends over to lace up his boots. Once he retakes his food and you open the door, he thanks you for the time away from the tower and disappears down the hall.

Shutting the door and then heading back into the living room, you tell Peter to get back into his regular clothes so you can get to his ribs while you go gather your medical supplies.

Meeting Peter back in the living room and setting everything down on the coffee table, he says, "So you and Bucky-"

"Don't." You pick up the peroxide bottle and soak a cotton ball in it. "Bucky and I are friends."

Peter manages to keep his mouth shut as you clean the scrape on his cheek and place a small bandage on it. Then when you've checked his ribs and tell him he just needs to ice them, he mumbles, "Friends who apparently lick each other." You snort and think nothing of his sullen tone, but when you look at his face you see he's actually being quite serious. There's no chuckle or boyish grin and for a moment you're absolutely floored at his attitude. "I don't think I'm comfortable with Bucky being alone with you in your apartment."

"Are you- are you kidding me?" You huff and take a step back from him. When Peter just continues to frown, you shake your head at him. "First of all, I'm an adult woman who can make her own decisions."

"I know, but-"

"I'm not finished!" You snap. Peter's eyes widen, but he smartly ceases talking. "I am allowed to have friends whether you like them or not. We have a pact, Petey, and since I'm still abiding by it I would hope that you would too."

"Yeah, but that's for significant others!"

"Significant others or friends, it doesn't matter. And you should be grateful I've kept my mouth shut when it comes to you and Leslie because let me tell you, I've been biting my tongue a lot these past few weeks. Bucky and the others have stepped up since you've abandoned me, so you have absolutely no room to tell me that you're uncomfortable with him or any of them being around me."

"Leslie isn't that bad and I have not abandoned you." You snort, but don't bother opening that can of worms even further. He finally gets annoyed with your quietness. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"You're here because you needed a bandage. Tell me, Peter, where are you going after here? Where are you going after making five minutes of small talk and calling it a night?" He opens his mouth and then snaps it shut, shrugs, and you shake your head at him once more in disappointment. "Exactly. Just go, Peter. I'm so over this conversation right now and I have work in the morning."

"Wait, but we promised we'd never leave a conversation where we were still annoyed with each other!"

"And we also promised we'd never judge who the other decided to spend time with, but here we are." He frowns at you. "Go to your girlfriend, Peter. We'll talk again in another few days or weeks or whenever. I don't care right now."

Peter stands there, gaping, before he pulls himself together and makes his way back towards the window he had crawled through. He glances at you one last time, but you merely keep staring until his mask encompasses his head once more and he lifts the window before taking his leave.

As the window shuts behind him, you sag in on yourself and your breathing stutters in your chest as your eyes fill with tears. You've never been this angry at Peter and the fact that he thinks it's okay to ignore you until he needs something and then has an opinion about who you hang out with was just too much for you to let slide.

You quickly gather everything from your coffee table and return it to its rightful place in your bathroom, and throw away the trash. Your appetite is long gone, so you put up what's left of your food and then head to your room to gather some clothes so you can shower and get into bed.

By the time you've crawled into bed, you're still a bit annoyed. So grabbing your phone, you pull up your text messages and click on Bucky's thread.

To Bucky: Well that was a shit show. I don't think I've ever made Petey leave my apartment while we were still angry with each other.

From Bucky: I'm sorry, doll. Anything I can do?

To Bucky: If he gives you attitude, get a non-serum individual to punch him. You, Steve, and probably Nat will send him flying into the wall.

From Bucky: If I remember..

To Bucky: Well I mean if you forget, I won't complain. I'll probably laugh when he comes crying to me.

From Bucky: You're a terrible human being.

To Bucky: Whatever. You adore me just the way I am. And now I should get some shut eye. I'll talk to you soon. Night, Sarge.

From Bucky: Night, sweetheart.

For the next couple of weeks, you keep yourself busy with work. Bucky and a few others do go on a mission as he said they would, so you keep your texts to a minimum of three each day- a good morning, a random story from that day, and a good night. They're gone for four days and in those four days you've not heard from Peter. The only reason you know he's not completely done with you is the fact he likes your posts that you put up on social media.

But since you're not currently speaking to your best friend and are too exhausted to hang out with anyone else, you're in a bit of a funk and completely caught off guard one evening when the patient a police officer brings in smacks you right across the face. You had been trying to insert an IV into his arm when he completely lost his shit, and then you were hit so hard that you were strewn across the gurney behind you. And in your vulnerable position, a fistful of your hair had been grabbed and yanked right before the police officer had intervened and pulled the patient off of you.

You had been given a bit of time to ice your cheek before you had to get back to work, but your face and scalp were hurting you the entire time.

On your way home, however, you're surprised to receive a call from Pepper. You're heading towards your apartment complex when she invites you to dinner there at the tower since Darcy is finally back in town, and you hate to do it, but you're not exactly up to be around such a rowdy bunch. So you apologize to Pepper and ask her to apologize to Darcy for you, and take a rain check. Immediately she knows something is wrong, but you only tell her you had a rough night at work and all you want is a hot shower and to crawl into bed. She hesitates but wishes you well, and the call ends moments later.

When you get home, you waste no time in locking the door behind you and heading straight for your bathroom. You strip down and take the hottest shower your body is capable of handling, and let yourself relax in the steam-filled room. Afterwards, as you're drying off, you gently dry your hair since your scalp is still sensitive and then get dressed in some of your comfort clothes.

Then heading out into the kitchen, you find some leftovers in your fridge and heat those up, tiredly sitting at your kitchen table and digging in. Just as you're done with your food and heading towards the living room, someone pounds on your apartment door. You sigh, hoping they go away, and have only plopped down onto the sofa when a familiar gruff voice speaks through the wood.

You quietly groan as Bucky tells you he knows you're there and you get up to open the door for him. He's on the verge of knocking again when you swing the door open. "Hey. Pepper said-" He trails off as he takes in your appearance, expression going slack before his jaw clenches in anger. "Who?"

You shake your head, gesturing him inside as you turn around and walk towards your sofa. You hear your door click shut before the footsteps follow you. "Work got a little hectic. No need to hunt down anyone, Barnes. I'm fine."

"Half your face is bruised, doll. You are not fine."

"It's all part of my job." You shrug and plop down onto the sofa once more. Pulling a blanket over your lap, you stare up at your friend. "There will always be a drunk and disorderly patient. I was just lucky he didn't do more damage."

Bucky frowns, but he doesn't push you on it. Instead, he walks over and sits next to you, angling his body towards yours when gentle fingers grasp your chin to angle your face more towards him. "What exactly happened?" He asks as his eyes dart over every inch of your face.

"Some petty criminal did some damage to his head in the back of a patrol car. Police officer brought him in and he seemed pretty docile up until I jabbed him with the IV. He got the drop on me. It happens." Gentle fingers brush along your cheekbone and you flinch. Tears sting your eyes as you sniffle. "I'm fine."

"Just because you keep sayin' that doesn't mean it's true."

Your bottom lip wobbles at his words and you lose the battle with keeping the tears at bay. The moment they fall, Bucky pulls you into a hug and you cry into his shoulder. "Dammit," you mumble. "See what you started!"

Bucky chuckles and he holds you a few moments longer, rubbing a hand up and your back to offer a semblance of comfort. When he lets you go, you fall back against the sofa cushions and wipe the tears away with your blanket. "So what are we watching?" He asks while settling in next to you and draping an arm behind your head.

"Shouldn't you go back to the tower and have dinner with the rest of them? I'm-"

"If you say you're fine one more time, I will drag you back to the tower and let Steve motherhen you."

You sigh. "Low blow, Buckaroo."

"And for that horrendous nickname, you've lost the privilege of choosing what we're going to watch."

You laugh and don't bother arguing with him about it as he leans across you to snag up the remote. When he settles back down and you snuggle into his side, you huff a small laugh when he settles on TLC which is showing 90 Day Fiancé.

"Why this show?" You ask.

"Because it blows my mind that some people are so oblivious and can't see that their chosen partner is only in it for the green card."

As you let his reasoning sink in, you can't help but giggle as you picture Bucky sitting in his own apartment and bad mouthing the TV because he didn't like the decisions the people were making in their love life. You watch along with him, cringing at the more obvious couples that are only headed for future divorce and smiling when one of the couples is actually in it for love.

You manage to almost watch a complete two hour episode when there's a knock on your door, but you're too comfortable to get up and answer it.

"You get it," you say as you nudge Bucky.

He nudges you back. "It's your apartment."

"Yeah, but I don't feel like getting up."

"You could have at least come up with a better excuse."

You grin, finally taking your eyes off the screen and glancing up at Bucky. "M'too tired. Brain's not working fast enough." He continues to give you a deadpan stare until you jut out your bottom lip. "Please?"

The second Bucky's lips twitch, you know you've won. He huffs and roughly pushes himself up off the sofa as if answering the door is a hardship, and you go back to watching TV. At least until you hear a familiar voice stammer, "Uh, h-hey Mr. Barnes. Is Y/N home?"

Your gaze snaps towards the door where Peter is standing out in the hallway, hands in his pockets as he sheepishly stares at Bucky. The man in question turns and raises an eyebrow at you as if saying what do I do and you give him a terse nod to let him know it's okay. Bucky steps aside and Peter readily walks in.

"I should be getting back to the tower," Bucky suddenly says. "You kids have fun."

This time it's your turn to give him a deadpan stare and he smirks right before slipping his boots back on. Then as soon as they're laced up, he's walking out the door and shutting it behind him. Peter, who hadn't stopped staring at the intimidating man, finally turns to look at you. And when he does, his eyes widen.

"What happened to your face?!"

You sigh. "I'm fine. Just had a little incident at work."

"And Mr. Barnes was what? Comforting you?"

"First of all, can you stop calling him Mr. Barnes? You two avenge together and what not. I'm pretty sure that means you're on a first name basis." Peter grins as he takes a seat on the recliner near you, shrugging. "And Bucky was here because when I turned down dinner at the tower, Pepper figured something was wrong. Bucky took it upon himself to check in."

"So are you two like a thing or something?" He wonders.

"We're just.. friends," you say. "For some unknown reason we clicked and we're comfortable in each other's company."

For a moment Peter doesn't say anything, nor will he meet your gaze, but then he's looking at you and sighing. "I'm sorry." You blink at him, surprised to hear the apology. "I shouldn't have freaked out that one night. Who you are friends with and who you decide to date is your business."

You finally smile, even though it's rather small. "Thank you. And don't get me wrong, I know you meant well, but you should have dropped it and just trusted my judgment."

"Yeah. I know," he mumbles.

"Soo.. are we good?" You ask.

"Yeah."

"Good. I was getting tired of you liking my posts and not commenting on them."

Peter snorts. A moment of silence passes and then he says, "So you'll be glad to know that Leslie and I aren't together anymore. I broke it off earlier tonight."

You wince. "Sorry."

"Nah. Don't be. She was totally using me for access to the tower." You're torn between being smug about being right and being sad for your friend who just ended his relationship. "I only realized it earlier when she got upset because Mr. Rogers posted a picture of you and Mr. Barnes together, and she had a few choice words to say about it."

"What? Steve posted a picture of us?" You quickly pull out your phone, checking social media for any notifications. There are none, but as you get on Instagram you check Steve's page and sure enough there's a new pic that shows Bucky staring fondly at you as you laugh at something on your phone. "That little shit didn't tag us!"

As your thumbs move furiously to give Steve a piece of your mind and to comment how adorable you and Bucky look, Peter can't help but say, "You're attracted to him."

Your texting falters and you quickly glance at your friend to gauge his reaction, but when he just looks amused, you shrug. "I mean have you seen him? How could I not be attracted to him?"

"Does he know?"

"I have a feeling he does. Asshole likes to fluster me every now and then."

"Well if it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure he likes you back." You snort and go back to finishing up the comment on Steve's post. "I'm serious. When we stopped talking, he threatened me. He was pissed that I made you cry and said I was lucky. He's actually really scary when you're on his bad side."

It takes a moment for his words to sink in and when they do you can feel your ears heating up, followed by your cheeks. Peter starts to laugh and you groan in embarrassment. "Why is this so weird? Dating should be easy!"

"Well he is an Avenger.."

"I don't care about that! He's just- he's really, really hot. It's intimidating."

"Wait, what?" Peter huffs. "So you're intimidated by his hotness and not because he's a super-soldier with a metal arm?"

"Well yeah."

Expression melting into one of confusion, your friend eventually shakes his head at you. "You're on your own with that. Good luck."

You hadn't realized how much everyone had known about your and Peter's brief falling out until the two of you were laughing together once again at the tower. It seemed like everyone had sagged in relief now that the two of you were poking fun at one another once more, and you had to apologize for apparently making it awkward for them.

And now that your best friend knew of your crush on a certain super-soldier, there was lots of teasing material. Of course you kept him in line when you could, but there was no stopping the force of Peter, Wanda, and Darcy combined.

It's a random Tuesday night when you've driven over to the Tower, Bucky having called you over for dinner with a few friends. You had the day off so you didn't mind heading on over, but as the elevator doors slide open after having ridden up to the communal floor, you yelp in surprise as the small gathered crows that shout, "Happy birthday!", at you.

Steve, Wanda, Sam, and Peter pop confetti poppers as you step out of the elevator, eyes wide as you glance between each of them. "My birthday is not until tomorrow!" You hiss.

"But you work tomorrow." Wanda frowns.

"Mhm." Your eyes then narrow, glancing behind them at the streamers and balloons hanging from the ceiling. "And how'd you guys even know?"

Everyone glances at Peter and he takes a step back when your gaze slides to him. He chuckles sheepishly. "I might have hid your birthday cupcake here and Steve found it."

"Petey," you groan. "Why couldn't you just hide it at aunt May's like usual? You know I dislike birthday celebrations."

"You don't dislike them. You just dislike all the attention being on you."

"Whatever. Where's Barnes? He's the one who lured me here under false pretenses. I got a bone to pick with him too."

Everyone turns around and Bucky's head appears from around the corner. He smirks and you glare at him. "Not false pretenses. We are having dinner," he says. "It just so happens to be a birthday dinner. And it's running a little bit late, so until the food gets here you get to open presents."

"You guys all suck."

Peter and Wanda each take a hand and drag you further into the room, heading towards the kitchen. Bucky fully steps out from behind the wall and you aim a kick at his shin as you're walking by. He laughs as he easily dodges it and then you're standing by the kitchen island that's been cleared of everything other than birthday presents.

You huff a small laugh and shake your head fondly at them. "I love you guys, but you do know you didn't have to get me anything, right?"

"Shut up and open the presents," Bucky says.

"Open mine first," Sam says, reaching into the small pile and pulling out a white envelope. "Unlike the others, I was literally told within the last thirty minutes we were doing this so yeah. It's not the best present, but I think you'll enjoy it."

You smile at Sam as you open it, chuckling at the plain birthday card and his brief personal message written inside. But it's what else that's inside that makes you meet Sam's gaze once more, smiling fondly at him. "Thank you. I can't get enough of bubble tea and I'm sure I can do some damage with this gift card."

"You're welcome."

"Mine next." Peter reaches in for a medium-sized box and hands it over to you. "I know you're not a fan of presents, so I got you something I actually knew you'd enjoy."

Raising an eyebrow at him, you pull the lid off of the box. Then glancing down, you snort before pulling out a bottle of Patron Silver Tequila. "I knew we were best friends for a reason."

Steve groans. "Please drink responsibly."

"Please. Responsible is my middle name, Rogers." Everyone snorts and instead of trying to remain serious and feign offense, you end up laughing. "Sam and Buck are good babysitters. You have nothing to worry about."

"That's to be determined," he says. "Here. Open mine. I honestly had no idea what to get you, but Peter assured me you'd enjoy this."

Putting the bottle of tequila back in its box, you accept Steve's gift. Pulling off the ribbon, you can't help but laugh when you see what's inside. "Cards Against Humanity." Peter cheers. "We're playing this the next time I have off," you say, grinning at Steve.

"What is Cards Against Humanity?" He wonders. "I just picked it up and boxed it."

"It's possibly one of the most confusing card games or raunchy card games you'll ever play," Sam says. "I, for one, am looking forward to it."

"Thank you, Steve. I seriously can't wait to play it."

"You're welcome."

Wanda claps her hands. "Mine and Darcy's next. She ordered online and I had to pick it up earlier. But, um, I'm not sure you want to open it up in front of everyone."

"Oh god. Don't tell me it's a vibrator."

Sam laughs out loud as both Peter and Steve start blushing. Bucky looks rather amused and intrigued as Wanda slides two boxes over to you. She shakes her head, giggling. "Not quite."

For a brief moment you're relieved, but then her answer sinks in and you're hesitant all over again. You groan. "Is yours safer? I feel like it is. Which one is it?"

Wanda only smirks as she pushes her box towards you. You open it, marvel at its contents, and then put the lid back on much to the boys' displeasure. Trying to keep a straight face, you look at Wanda. "How many sets did you get?"

"There's four. All in colors that will look amazing against your skin tone."

"Thank you. I'll send you pictures when I wear them."

"Yes please! Natasha wants to know how they fit as well. She was the one who suggested them."

"I'll send them to the ladies group chat then."

"Well that's not fair," Sam complains. "First for not showing us what's inside the box and then you guys have a ladies only group chat. I wanna be in the ladies only group chat."

"But then that defeats the purpose of it being a ladies only group chat," you muse.

"Come on," Peter then whines. "What was the present?"

Your gaze slides to Peter, but instead of outright saying what it is, you say, "Think back to that one Halloween night where you wouldn't let me out of the dorm until I switched costumes."

It takes him only a minute to understand and when he does, he snorts. "That wasn't a costume! That was lingerie."

"Whoa, what?" Sam exclaims, grinning.

"Lingerie can be worn as a costume?" Steve wonders.

"I was actually a Victoria's Secret Angel, complete with the most amazing set of wings, and Petey forbade me from leaving the room. It was a sad, sad night."

"As much as I wanna get into that," Sam says, "I wanna know what Barnes got you more."

You chuckle and glance at Bucky, smile faltering when you see him tense. But then he seems to shake himself out of it and offers you a grin. "Open the bigger one first."

Wanda clears away the other presents as Bucky slides his two towards you. You feel giddy as you grab the bigger box, untying the black silk ribbons and lifting the lid. There's tissue paper you open up and you gasp, happily giggling. "You didn't?!"

"Well you did say it was your favorite movie, sweetheart."

"Yes!" You glance up, beaming at Bucky, and your heart swells at his own smile being directed at you. "I really, really love this. I can't wait to hang it up."

"What is it?" Peter wonders, trying to peer across the island.

"It's a quote from Practical Magic," you say and Peter huffs a laugh, knowing full well your love for that movie. You carefully pick it up and turn it around so everyone can see it as you read it off by heart. "Always throw spilt salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Plant lavender for luck and fall in love whenever you can."

"Aw," Wanda coos. "That's adorable."

"I made Bucky watch this movie a while back," you say. "I need to show it to you one of these days."

"I'm looking forward to it," she says.

With nothing else to say, you place it back in its box and set it aside in favor for the second box. It's a little smaller, but you're excited for it nonetheless. Untying the ribbon and lifting the lid, you immediately laugh at the white petals scattered atop the tissue paper.

"Barnes, you smooth sonuvabitch," Sam mutters.

Steve and Peter laugh, but you're so focused on the notecard that's under some of the petals. Lifting it up, you read the note to yourself because immediately you know it's personal. My better half has to be funny, get along with my friends, won't judge me for my past, and has decent taste in movies.

Heart fluttering, you bite the corner of your lip when it feels like you're smiling way too much.

"Well what does Prince Charming have to say?" Sam asks.

"That's none of your business." You close the note and then tuck into your back pocket, chuckling when Sam and Wanda complain. When you meet Bucky's gaze, you immediately flush and mentally curse yourself when you see him smirk in return.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, you center yourself and then part the tissue paper. You look at the second portrait and gasp after you read it.

"What? What is it?" Peter wonders.

This second portrait is of a hand drawn bowl with a tipped over salt shaker, a small bundle of lavender, a small bundle of rosemary, and a heart beneath it. Above the bowl is a swirl of flower petals and inside the swirl of petals, in very pretty cursive writing, are the words I wished for you too.

Did he just- did he confess his own feelings by using a Practical Magic quote? Or was this just you overthinking his present? You glance to meet Bucky's gaze and at his gauging expression your eyes fill with tears.

"What did you do, Barnes?!" Sam scolds him. "You made the poor girl cry at her own birthday celebration!"

But Bucky isn't paying him any attention, instead he's solely focused on you. You set the present aside and walk around the kitchen island on shaky legs, and Bucky readily reaches for your waist as you grab his face and pull him down into a kiss.

You can't believe you're kissing Bucky, but then he squeezes your waist and returns the kiss, and you know you made the right choice.

Someone gasps, but then the following words let you know exactly who it is. "Darcy is going to be so angry she missed this." Wanda. That is Wanda.

"What the hell is going on?" Sam wonders. "What type of present can cause this type of reaction?"

You smile against Bucky's mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth before falling flat on your feet after having been on the tips of your toes in order to reach his mouth.

"It's my favorite quote from my favorite movie," you say. You turn around to address your friends, but Bucky doesn't let you go far. He wraps one arm around your waist and tugs you back so you're resting against his chest and tucked beneath his chin. "It's a movie about witches," you explain. "These two little girls are being raised by their aunts and they see them performing love spells for a local woman. Basically, one of the young girls refuses to fall in love after witnessing a love spell gone wrong and she does her own spell to call forward a love that would be impossible to find- a man who's favorite shape would be a star and who had one green eye, one blue. Years down the road, the sisters accidentally murder a man."

Sam snorts. "How the hell does one accidentally murder someone?"

"Shush." Wanda admonishes him. "I want to hear the story behind the gift."

You and Bucky chuckle, and you continue to explain. "Anyway, they send in an US Marshall to investigate the disappearance and the one who had done the love spell at a young age starts to fall for this man. She ends up telling him about the murder, but he doesn't quite believe her. Then they're on the verge of hooking up when she gets a good look at his eyes- one green eye, one blue."

"Oh my god. That's so cute!" Wanda says.

"It gets cuter. And sadder," you say. "So she explains to this man about her family, the murder, and how she can't be with him because he's only attracted to her because of a love spell she did when she was just a little girl. At first he's skeptical about this spell bringing him to her, but then he ends up believing her. And as he's walking away from her, he stops to tell her I wished for you too."

"So you made out with Barnes because of that?" Sam shakes his head, chuckling. "Wow."

"It's fuckin' adorable. Stop ruining the moment, Samuel!" Bucky laughs at your words and pulls you closer to him.

"So while I'm happy for Buck," Steve says, "I'm still really curious about what Darcy's gift is."

Peter nods. "Same."

Wanda giggles, but says nothing as she grabs the box and slides it over to you. You groan because you know it can be nothing good, but you still open it since everyone is watching and waiting. As soon as you part the tissue paper and read the box, alongside taking in the picture on the box, your face flames as you shove the lid back on. Wanda cackles.

"I hate her."

"She said to give the remote to-"

"Don't!" You cut Wanda off, blushing even further. "I know who she means to have control of that."

"They- they make underwear that does that?" Bucky muses and you die a little on the inside in embarrassment. You elbow him as he starts to laugh behind you.

Sam instantly knows what the gift is now and starts to laugh, but Steve and Peter apparently need some help.

"Lewis got you vibrating panties, didn't she?"

"Oh my god, Sam, if you don't shut up I'm gonna punch you in the throat."

Steve is torn between laughing and trying not to make you even more uncomfortable, but his amusement wins out. "Given Y/N's flustered state, I'm assuming Darcy wants Bucky to have the remote."

"I mean this seems like it could make for an interesting night."

Everyone laughs at Bucky's sudden interest in the box you're doing your damnedest to keep shut, but luckily Peter steps in. "As much I love watching Y/N squirm, can we get ready to eat? I'm starving."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go wait downstairs for it, kid."

Sam and Peter head for the elevator to take them down to the lobby, and you turn around in Bucky's hold. "Help me take this stuff to my car so I don't have to do it later?"

"Sure thing, doll." He grins. But instead of stepping away, he pushes you further into the kitchen island. You smile as he cages you in and then huff a laugh when he reaches for the box behind you. "So exactly how long do we have to be dating before we can test these out?"

You slowly lean upward so your lips brush his as you say, "I'd say very, very soon if you would put your ass into gear and help me move these presents like I asked."

Bucky laughs and presses a quick kiss to your lips. "Then let's get to it."

The telltale sound of a phone's camera goes off and you turn your face towards the sound. Wanda is beaming, her phone pointed towards you and Bucky. "Darcy wanted evidence I wasn't lying. She's going to be so happy."

Bucky turns his face to look at her then, his cheek brushing against yours where he's yet to back off from you. "Tell Lewis I said thanks for the present. I'll give her my review of them in a few weeks."

Wanda's eyes widen and you immediately blurt, "Don't you dare!" But she's already texting and you know the group chat full of ladies is going to be full of messages that you'll have to reply to later. Quietly groaning, you slap your hands against Bucky's waist and push him back. Looking up at him, you shake your head but the corner of your lips turn up in amusement. "You're terrible. I would threaten to withhold sex, but I've been looking forward to that for a while. I'd just be punishing us both."

"Just tell me when and where, sweetheart, and I'll be there."

"Oh no. You guys are going to be that couple," Steve complains.

And without missing a beat, you face him and say, "Fuck off, Rogers!" Bucky snorts.

"You're cranky when you haven't gotten laid."

You gasp as Bucky bursts out laughing right in your ear, but he quickly catches you as you try to lunge for his best friend. "You know what, I was going to be discreet when banging your best friend, but now I'm going to tell you all the filthy things Bucky likes to do just to annoy you. I will go into excruciating detail about the look and taste of his dick!"

Steve blanches as it's Wanda's turn to burst out laughing. "You've done it now, Steve."

And as Steve looks to Bucky for help, he merely shrugs. "You brought this on yourself, Stevie. Hope you enjoy the play by plays."

Relaxing in Bucky's hold and moving so you're hip to hip with him, you slide your arm behind his waist and hook your thumb into the belt loop of his jeans. "We're going to have so much fun."

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #marvel imagine #peter parker #bucky barnes #wanda maximoff #sam wilson #darcy lewis #the avengers #avengers #avengers imagine #marvel

[sylverstorms]

Cassandra x Maiden----Anonymity

Three months, two days and seven hours.

That is how long you’ve been in Dimitrescu castle for. If rumor is to be believed, you are well on your way to setting the year’s record for longest living maid. Well. ‘Maid’, according to their perception. Your mind always automatically corrects it to something more fitting:

Prisoner.  

You did not choose to work for them. You did not choose to be in this godforsaken place, cleaning crimson stains off the floors, trying to convince yourself the wailing that sometimes reaches your ears is simply the wind. You never would have imagined your life’s end like this, serving wine –no, who are you kidding, it’s too crimson for that— to the Dimitrescus at dinner until one of them snaps and drives the nearest blade into your throat.

Probably Daniela.

It’s not unheard of. And stories of other maids’ murders are plenty.

Daniela has bitten one’s throat off for the crime of addressing her wrongly. Cassandra has left increasingly deep gashes, some of which resulted in deaths, for random offenses, like staring at her for too long. Bela, arguably the more merciful of the three, has snapped necks only when the staff disrespected her sisters’ names, or her mother’s.

You aren’t sure if you want to thank the older maids for this information or yell at them for the nightmares it has caused you. You are lucky to not be in the village, they say –everyone there must already be dead. You are even luckier to have been taken from the dungeon by the Lady herself. It means the daughters don’t know you and the castle is big enough that they may never spare you a glance.

You hadn’t believed it, at first.

Yet in the three months of your stay, you have never come across anyone other than Bela in the sections you were assigned to clean and polish. She passed you by the hallway like she did the decorations and the furniture –and you couldn’t be happier about it. You have caught scarce glimpses of Alcina Dimitrescu, too. Never the other two residents.

Not until the fateful day another maid disappears and the staff’s assigned posts change. You have no say in it and no power to object.

May as well keep my head down and continue to work as carefully as I have. That is the idea. Not to look too much, or think too much, or feel too much. Avoid mistakes because those in the castle are fatal.  

It is a little difficult to remain utterly calm when the sound of swarming insects comes from far behind you, though.

Your blood starts to kick in your veins. Your heart wants to jump out of your chest and make a run for it. You lock your muscles down and summon all the willpower you possess to stay focused on your task.

Please be Bela, please, please, be Bela—

The buzzing dies down. Steps approach you in the otherwise silent hallway. They are too light to be Bela’s. You’re probably screwed, you think, but you keep cleaning the surface in front of you until it’s practically a mirror with how it shines.

The steps halt too close to you for comfort. Out of the corner of your eye, you realize they’ve left bloody imprints on the floor you’ve been polishing for hours now. Dainty, pale fingers are wrapped loosely, almost lazily, around a sickle dripping crimson.    

“Never seen you around, before.” the sound of her voice makes you freeze.

You stop and turn— to face none other than Cassandra Dimitrescu. Her hood is down, brunette waves on point, the dried blood at her chin a terrible contrast to her otherwise attractive face. You… didn’t know she was that pretty, up close.

“I… I have been here for three months. On the opposite wing.” you say. Was I even supposed to reply? You’ll find out soon enough, if your tongue is still attached to your body.

Her eyes give you a quick once-over. “Bela’s been keeping you a secret, huh.” she tsks. Her free hand goes to the handle of the door next to you… and only then do you realize it must be her bedroom. You’re literally assigned to clean the wolf’s den. “Come wake me up when the sun has set, completely.” she emphasizes.

What.

“Uh—”

The crimson-dyed sickle moves until its blade rests underneath your chin, lifting it so your eyes meet hers. From this angle, under the pale lighting of dawn, they look more –stunning— blue than inhuman gold. “No loud sounds. No lights. Got it?”

How can you not, when your life depends on it?

“Yes, my lady.” you reply. You don’t even dare draw breath.

“Good.” In one swift movement, the sickle is gone, the handle turned and she’s already shedding her robe.

You catch a glimpse of a black corset and a narrow waist before you avert your eyes.

The door shuts.

...

Waking Cassandra up can be… tricky, the other maids tell you.

She detests light when she opens her eyes but she also doesn’t want it to be pitch black. You’re not supposed to talk but you can’t shake her, either. Which brings you to the very logical question:

“What the hell am I supposed to do, then?”

To which they have no answer.

They have no answer, you realize with a start… because there’s nobody alive to tell the tale of how to actually wake the brunette sleeping beauty up without simultaneously signing their own death sentence.

The hours pass both too slow and too fast. The sun sets over the horizon.

And you stand, riddled with nerves, outside Cassandra’s room.

A deep inhale later, you turn the handle. The door is left half-open so a bit of light comes in from the hallway. Her bedroom smells like shampoo, bath salts and spices. She must have taken a shower before she went to sleep. You approach the figure tucked under the silken sheets of the queen-sized bed…

Cassandra is lying on her side, one hand underneath her pillow, the other extended loosely towards the edge of the mattress. She probably sleeps naked, at least from the waist up, but thankfully the covers are wrapped around her chest. Their royal red color makes a stark contrast against the paleness of her skin.

Her face is so… serene.

She is a monster and a sadistic killer, yet right there you can’t deny she looks more like a renaissance painting.

Now onto the hard part.

“My lady… the sun has set.” you whisper, kneeled on the floor beside her. No movement comes. “Hey… I’m here to wake you up?” you try again. Still nothing. Shakily, you bring your hand up to the bed. Not daring to touch her, you leave it beside hers, over the covers. “Cassandra?”

She turns her face deeper into her pillow –no, no, you don’t think it’s cute, what’s wrong with you— but at least she’s finally reacting. You call her name one more time.

Her nose scrunches up a little. Long fingers flex –and they touch yours. She’s cold. A pair of blueish ambers blink open to regard you. Not with malice, or with annoyance.

“Good evening.” you speak, unsure of what else to say.

A smirk slowly curves her lips. She looks like a lazy cat pondering whether or not it’s worth it to pounce and that’s not good. It’s not good, not ‘hot’ like your mind suggests. God, you’ve been in this castle so long you are starting to get messed up.

“Mm, breakfast in bed.” she grins and licks her lower lip sexily. Your eyes fly wide open, but her hand is already gripping the front of your black shirt, trapping you there.

How could you ever find this psycho attractive?! you get mad at yourself. Is she hot now that she’s going to kill you?  

But Cassandra only lets out an airy laugh and releases you. You fall backwards on your behind. “Breathe, darling, I’m joking.” She rolls onto her back and seems to wince from it. Her smile vanishes.

“…does… your back hurt?” you ask when you finally find your voice again.

“Ugh, a Lycan landed a hit on me. He’s pieces now, of course, but my muscles still pull.” she says it casually, like it’s a thing that happens.

Silence falls over the room. You take it as your cue to leave. You stand and bow while she’s looking blankly at the ceiling—

But she stops you.

“Wait. Come here.” you don’t like it when she gets that tone, like she came up with something she cannot wait to try. You’re already close to the bed, you’re not sure what she means. Until she pats the spot right next to her. “Don’t make me say it again.”

You won’t. You know what’s good for you.

Hesitantly, you take a seat on the –admittedly very comfortable— mattress. “Yes, lady?”

“Give me a massage.” she says like it’s your job, like she’s the rich woman in a spa and it’s what’s expected. She turns onto her front, bearing her naked back to you and you have less than five seconds to come to terms with the thought of straddling her.

Carefully, you bring your knees on either side of her thighs and pull the sheets so they rest low at her waist. You feel warmer than you should given the temperature of the castle. If she knows the fine teasing line she’s walking, she is loving every inch of it.

Cassandra loves being the center of attention and she loves being pampered, you realize.

It’s probably amusing to her to make you fluster, but this is also an opportunity for you to get on her good graces. She is a dangerous one and it’ll be a great asset for your survival if she’s leaning favorably towards you. Win-win situation. You just have to be good at your job. Like always.

By some miracle of God, you do know how to work the tension out of muscles.

The first time you touch her, you simply rest your hands on her back to warm it. She doesn’t seem to object, from the way lean muscle stretches out under your fingers. Cassandra feels cool, but not hard like marble. Her skin yields under your touch, soft and smooth.

As you apply more pressure to your stokes, she starts to let out little sighs that you have to mute in your mind before they start to affect you. You’ve been high-strung and without sex for too long. Your body all too eagerly intercepts this death-trap as foreplay.

Minutes roll by.

You alternate between all the methods you know. The one that really seems to get her is when you drive your thumb into the knots and end with a little circle.

Cassandra is –God help you— openly moaning every time you press more. It is a bit too much pressure you’re applying though and you don’t know if you’re hurting her and she’s just into it.

“Is this too much…?” you ask. Fuck, why do you sound so breathless?

“No, it’s good.” she husks back.

“Harder?” You don’t know what innocent means, anymore.

Cassandra sends that little smirk again over her shoulder. “Harder.” she replies and the extra flair she puts into it is enough to nearly fry your brain. And other parts of you.

You’re pretty sure you need a cold shower by the time you leave her room.

...

At diner, you hang back in the shadows, gaze downcast.

You do not need to know what the Dimitrescu family is eating, nor what they’re drinking. You do not need to see Cassandra or risk catching Daniela’s gaze. You love your anonymity in the castle. It has kept you alive.

But it is shattered like frail glass when you bring another bottle of Sanguis Virginis to the table. You’ve almost retreated back to your place, when Daniela’s eyes zero in on you.

“She’s the human!” she exclaims like she’s made the world’s most startling discovery. Bela seems to understand, but the Lady and Cassandra frown over their glasses.

“I am almost afraid to ask, love.” Lady Alcina says…

And she’s right.

“The one who made Cassandra go ‘harder’ and ‘yes, yes!’ earlier this evening.” she impersonates in her sluttiest voice and then breaks into a fit of cackles. Bela’s lip twists into a withheld chuckle.

Lady Dimitrescu nearly chokes on her wine.

Cassandra slaps the back of Daniela’s head. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Girls.” Alcina warns and glares until the table calms again.

Then, her eyes curiously fall upon you.

So much for your anonymity.

Ko-Fi

#Cassandra Dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu's daughters #cassandra x oc #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #fanfiction #cass kills with her hair and nails on point she's the murder-princess type #you can't change my mind #I love her

[slashingdisneypasta]

Horror Villains And: Period Sex

oh that is the perfect gif I totally forgot all about it but oh boy. thanks billy for your service to this blog.

Warnings: Obviously, menstruation, blood, and smut. I’m dealing with a particularly uncomfortable period (for me at least) and just want some e m p a t h y about it.

~~~

Who LOVES it:

Freddy Krueger: ABSO-MOTHER FUCKING-LUTELY. It’s a struggle to keep his hands off you (on a normal day) during your period. He can smell it.

Kieran Wilcox: yes please mommy, he’s waiting.

Luda Mae Hewitt: This is her secret kink.

Michael Myers: B l o o d  p l a y? Any kind of bloodplay, Michael is into it. If you weren’t already bleeding, he would probably make you bleed, with his (Actual) knife.

Mickey Altieri: Bring it. Jesus christ, Mickey thinks its so hot. Getting his cock or his fingers coated in your slick and your blood (Seeing the string consistency between his fingers), seeing you in a total mess from your period and being fucked to oblivion? Oh yes.

Midnight Man: He just likes it. I dunno. I don’t have a logical reason, extension or explanation of my vibes here but I am getting them from him.

Patrick Bateman: Oh my god it is his favourite kind of sex. Yes yes yes. Please please please. He marks your cycle in his calendar, with special notes about flow and mood. Soon enough he’s figured out your whole period every week and knows exactly when the iron is hot enough to strike. Any w h e r e, any t i m e .

Both Pennywise’: Ooooh, watch their eyes glow and their hair get more luscious when you tell them. Their teeth get sharper and the whites of their eyes get whiter- they’re horny as fuck now. Be a good sport and give them a lil taste, won’t you? A smell at least? That, or have them trailing you like lost puppies for the rest of the week, and curling up to/around you as tightly as possible when you’re sleeping.

The Clown / Jeffrey Hawk / Kenneth Chase: Where else could he possibly go on this post, honestly.

The Man (Hush): Yep.  He’s favourite time of month.

Who is like ‘a b s o l u t e l y  n o t’:

Jerry Dandridge: Do I really need to comment? I mean, he can control himself being around you on your period, but you cannot let that blood smell hit the open air. Your controlled, classy vampire bf will disappear in an instant and will be replaced with… well, Evil.

Yeah no thanks:

Debbie Loomis: She’s not vehemently against it, but still… nah? Thanks for the offer tho. And it won’t happen when she’s on her period either, c e r t a I n l y not. Don’t even touch her when she’s on her period, jesus christ.

Jennifer Check: Yeah she just got a new manicure. Over her dead body will you stain her new French tips with your coochie blood. And if she puts her mouth down there, it might excited t o o much if you get what I mean and you will become a real snack.  

Is indifferent towards it:

Bo Sinclair: You’re sure into him durin’ this time o’ month, aren’t you? Eh… whatever. Hop on. He’s happy to help his partner, especially if its in such a gratifying way! I mean he won’t buy you any fucking pads but he will do this and there’s Bo as a boyfriend for you.

Chucky / Charles Lee Ray: I mean sure? Blood doesn’t scare him and it is, in fact, a turn on for him of course so sure. Plus, you’re less likely to get pregnant at this time, which is great! Doesn’t see what the big deal is, here. (Although, weirdly, I see past Chucky from Curse to be very much in the next category)

Inkubus: It’s not even a big d e a l, man, its cool. He likes all kinds of sex. Go wild.

Jason Voorhees: Jason is basically ace in the way he conducts himself on a general basis but if it tuned out that he was interested in sex and/or was willing to do it with you, then some blood leaking out of your private parts because of some natural causes is not going to change his mind. Is this not normal??

Jedidiah Sawyer: ???Alright??? He wears a mask made of skin, your natural bodily functions are not going to scare him away. Besides, the knowledge that it could lessen menstrual pain for you is a nice bonus. He’s gotta take care of his family.

Roman Bridger: It’s really not a big deal to him. We’ll just put down a darker sheet, or some plastic. You both need this sometimes (Him for emotional support when he’s stressed, and you of course cuz you’re on your damn period) and a bit of blood is certainly not a deal breaker. Besides, he finds the easy thrusting to be nice and comfortable. Preferred sometimes, actually. Just some nice, lazy, relieving sex with your director boyfriend.

Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie Hewitt: A little bit a’ blood aint gonna turn me off, sugar. Don’t you worry bout that.

The Djinn: See Inkubus. Except, our dear Wishmaster is so much more of a tease about this.

Is enthusiastic when they learn that orgasms lessen period pain:

Bubba Sawyer: He doesn’t care about exposure to blood, obviously, and he doesn’t see it as gross at all but he was still concerned about whether that was safe during your… monthly thing… but once he found out that it could help you with cramps he got on board immediately! ^^

Lester Sinclair: Oh boy, well okay then, let’s give this a go then!!

Mayor Buckman: He knows the drill; Boone gets terrible cramps. Don’t worry, he’s got you.

Pamela Voorhees: Oh of course she’ll help you out when you’re hurting ^^

Stuart Lloyd: Well… don’t get him wrong, for sure there is the part where it helps you in a seriously uncomfortable time… but then there is also the fact that he is a lil bit of a secret freak and menstrual care is a good excuse for him. (So he also belongs in the first category ^^)

The Deathslinger / Caleb Quinn: Blood doesn’t bother him, and if it’ll give you a hand with yer monthly problem then you just need to ask him. You’ll be on the bench in the saloon with your thighs spread without a second thought, like asking for a glass of water. (Except of course Caleb’s a lot more hands on about the whole thing of course (; ) He’s happy to help.

The Huntress / Anna: Oh!! Really?? It’ll help? Okay, then, sunflower. Remove your pants. Let’s go !!

Vincent Sinclair: He’s just very supportive and helpful through all areas of your period. He doesn’t understand, but he can still be sympathetic and help the way you say would be good ^^

Is curious and will try:

Billy Loomis: Is really curious and excited to try it. I mean, he likes blood? He likes sex? And this is both those things?? Fun lubricant, yay.

Chop Top Sawyer: And when I say that he’ll try and I REALLY MEAN IT, MAN. Like, go big or go home. He’s going to eat you out at this time and he’ll end up really enjoying it. Buckle up babes, you’ve awoken something buried pretty damn s h a l l o w l y inside him.

Granny Boone: Similar to Chop Top except with him, you had to tell him you were on your period and all so it would be different and all, while with Boone she was the one sniffing it out and *cough* hunting you approaching you about trying it.

Jill Roberts: For the same reasons as Billy. Plus, she wants to be able to say ‘well I did it for you- you have to do it for me.’

Leslie Vernon: I mean, he’ll give anything a shot once. What’s the harm?

Piper Shaw: Same as Jill.

Stu Macher: Super enthusiastic to try!! XDD Just, like, dyed lube- right?

Is c a u t i o u s:

Carrie White: … periods have always been difficult for her… But she’s willing to give it a try as long as you’re willing to return the favour! ^^

Thomas Hewitt: Tell him, if whatever he does hurts you. He is very serious about this. He wants you to feel better, but he doesn’t really know this works and does not want you hurting in his vein attempt at making you feel better. So, please. Tell him how you’re feeling. He’ll get really good at making your cramps and discomfort go away.

They may take some convincing:

Drayton Sawyer: I mean, he’s of course not afraid of some blood but… uh… Well, I mean, he doesn’t really have a big, or even moderate sex drive in the first place so any sex of any kind takes some warming up to. Maybe if the stars aline and you catch him on a good day. Otherwise, he tells you to just suck it up.

#tw: blood #tw: periods #Slashers x Reader #Horror Villains x Reader #Horror Villains and Period Sex #Smut #Drayton Sawyer #Thomas Hewitt #Carrie White #Stu Macher #Piper Shaw #Leslie Vernon #Jill Roberts #Granny Boone #Chop Top Sawyer #Billy Loomis #Vincent Sinclair #Bo Sinclair #Lester Sinclair #Bubba Sawyer #Sheriff Hoyt #Charlie Hewitt #Luda Mae Hewitt #Chucky #Charles Lee Ray #Kieran Wilcox #Roman Bridger #Debbie Loomis #Mickey Altieri #Michael Myers

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Seventeen

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: 70% of this fic is written on my phone lying on my side in bed while using swipe typing bc im too lazy to type out words and it shows

TW: discussion of SA

***

Nesta has an easier time adjusting to a third person in the cabin than she thought she would. Maybe it’s because Azriel indeed minds his business, and half the time Nesta isn’t aware he’s there at all.

Cassian seems to be more irritated by it than anyone else—not his brother, of course, but the fact that he and Nesta no longer exist in their own little bubble. Which is how he ends up at Nesta’s apartment with an overnight bag, sprawled out stomach-down on her mattress while she gets ready for bed.

“TV show or movie?” he asks, clicking through her laptop. Shows are Nesta’s thing and movies are Cassian’s; she feels generous enough tonight to say, “Movie.”

“Thank god,” he mutters, typing something on the laptop. “There’s a Turkish horror flick that I was saving for you.”

“Where do you even find these films?” Grabbing her hairbrush, she flops onto the bed beside him and starts brushing out her brassy locks. Before he can answer, Nesta’s phone buzzes from the stool she uses as a bedside table. Feyre’s name flashes on the screen.

Nesta frowns, but picks up without a second thought. “What is it?”

“Nothing serious,” her sister replies. “Just checking in.”

Before Cassian, Nesta didn’t very much understand the purpose of “checking in” without reason. Now she empathizes with Feyre a little. “I’m fine,” she says.

Deciding she can do better than that, she adds, “Cassian and I are about to start a movie.”

“Is it his choice? I’m so sorry for you.”

Nesta peeks over to where Cassian is still intently searching for his obscure movie and smiles a little. “I like Turkish horror,” she replies.

Cassian overhears and grins approvingly.

“Well, I’m looking at wedding dresses with Rhys so he can prepare for when he inevitably proposes,” Feyre says. “In case you wanted to know.”

Nesta did not particularly want to know, but she doesn’t say this. “Sounds fun. Is that it?”

“For what?”

“This conversation.”

Feyre sighs over the line. “Yes, I’ll let you go now. Thanks for picking up.”

The bar is in hell, Nesta thinks. Mostly because she put it there, but she still feels embarrassed to be congratulated over such small things. “Thanks for keeping it short.”

She’s about to hang up when she hears a male voice speak up in the background, and Feyre interrupts, “Wait—before you go, can you tell Cassian to call Rhys back? He wants Cass’s help picking a new team leader for the Italy project.”

Nesta has no idea what that is, but she says, “Sure, fine.” They say their goodbyes and hang up.

“What’d she want?” Cassian says without looking over at her.

“She said Rhys wants you to call him about the Italy project.”

Cassian turns toward her, half sitting up. “Really? What for?”

“Something about picking a team leader.” She returns to brushing her hair. “Why? What’s the Italy project?”

“Something I thought we put aside for good,” he grumbles. “It’s a year-long overseas project in Milan. Rhys thinks it’s gonna bring in a shit ton of money.”

“Sounds big. What do you have to do with it, though?” She’s never heard of Cassian being involved in Night Court’s international operations, even though he takes on more work than the usual employee.

Cassian shrugs, going back to movie searching. “He wanted me to be the one leading the team, and I guess he still feels petty about me turning him down. Honestly, choosing team leaders outside of my department isn’t even part of my jurisdiction.”

Nesta hesitates. “He offered you the job? When?” She didn’t know this.

“On New Year’s.”

“And you turned it down?”

“Yeah.” Cassian clicks on a link that looks like it’ll plant fifteen different viruses in Nesta’s laptop. “Found the movie,” he says.

“Why would you do that?” Nesta demands.

“The movie?”

“The job offer! Why would you turn down such a big opportunity without even telling me?”

Cassian laughs in confusion. “Are you angry right now?”

She’s astonished at his nonchalance. “Cassian,” she says. “It’s Italy.”

Italy with the art and history and seaside beauty—it’s on their top five places to see before they die.

“It’s Milan,” he says like there’s a difference, “and it’s an entire year away from you.” He shakes his head, sitting up to face her. “Are you out of your mind?”

She goes still. “Don’t tell me you said no because of me.”

“Of course I said no because of you.”

“It’s your dream job!” she bursts. “Traveling, exploring, being on your own—”

“Those are our dreams. I made those plans with you. The hell am I supposed to do all the way in Italy without you?”

“You sound codependent,” she retorts.

He narrows his brows. “Like you wouldn’t do the same thing in my position?”

He’s right, of course. Nesta would do the exact same thing for him. But Nesta and Cassian are not the same, and they both know it. “You can’t make that comparison,” she sighs.

“Why not?” he demands.

“Because—” She struggles to put it into words. “I would give up a long distance job for you because it would be worth it. You’re worth it. It doesn’t work the other way around.”

“Again: why the fuck not?”

So he’s really going to make her spell it out. “Because you’re a good boyfriend. You’re affectionate and caring, you always go the extra mile for those you love, and you come with all these free perks. It’s a great deal. And I’m not anything terrible, but I’m the bare minimum compared to you. Why would you give up Italy for the bare minimum?”

Cassian looks at her in disbelief. “I don’t even know how you can say so many wrong things in a row.”

“He’s blinded by love,” Nesta mutters to herself.

“First of all,” he holds up a finger, “I don’t know where you learned to compare yourself to me, but I don’t like it. You make it sound like I need to be paid back for every half-decent thing I do, and that is not the case at all.”

“Of course you think that,” she says. “You wouldn’t be a good person if you didn’t.”

“Then let me be a blunt person.” He puts a hand on her knee and looks her in the eye. “You will never be like me. Very few people are; you can’t take it personally.”

“Oh my god.” Her eyes might roll out of her head.

“But you’re not the bare minimum. Not even close.” He states it like an undeniable fact.

“How so?” she challenges.

“Like how Elain told me about this boy who broke her heart in her high school, and how the next day he walked into class in a leg cast. And how she just knew you had something to do with it, and you two had a huge fight about it that lasted a week.”

Nesta does not enjoy that memory being brought up. Elain called her a psychopath for the incident, and to save her feelings, Nesta (rather unconvincingly) said it had been an accident.

“I didn’t push anybody into a creek,” she maintains the lie. “Sometimes people just fall down there.”

“To be fair, you’re a lot more stable now than you were then. Now when people hurt those you care about, you find sneakier ways to hurt them back. Don’t you?”

“I do not,” Nesta defends.

“Really? Because Eris texted me earlier saying you’ve been ignoring him since New Year’s, and he’s starting to get worried that you have something heinous planned for him. I asked him why he would ever think such a thing of you.” Cassian leans forward and rests his chin on her shoulder. “Why would he think such a thing of you, Nesta?”

Cassian looks pretty well off from here, doesn’t he? She remembers Eris’s smug face. Did you know Rhysand’s parents found him sleeping in the streets?

“Because he said a bad thing,” Nesta says, looking down at her fingernails. “And I have an unfortunate reputation at school for getting back at people who say bad things.” Like the time Brian O’Connell made jokes about a rape trial the class was studying, and then couldn’t find an internship at a single firm the following summer.

“And what did he say? Because I can’t imagine he would directly insult you. He actually likes you, ass that he is.” His face is warm so close to her neck.

She looks away. “I won’t repeat it.”

That seems to be all Cassian needs to get an idea of what Eris said. “And how long are you planning on holding it against him?”

“Forever.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Nesta meets the eyes that haven’t left her face this entire time and snorts. “What’s your point?” Seriously, she’s starting to redden at how close he is.

He buries his face in her neck, his stubble rasping against the sensitive skin there. “The point is that you also do a lot for the people you love. Just in a different way.” He pulls away to look her in the eye. “Don’t do anything to Eris, though,” he says. “Not that I care for him or his shit opinions, but whatever you have planned isn’t worth it.”

Nesta wants to scoff in disbelief at the sincerity on Cassian’s face. He’s always choosing kindness, even at the worst moments. “So that’s your argument?” she says. “You won’t go to Italy because your girlfriend has a bad temper and a taste for revenge?”

“That’s my final argument, Your Honor.” He takes her hand. “Forget Milan, will you? One day I’ll take you to Portofino.”

The longer Nesta knows Cassian, the more she finds it useless to hide from him. Which is why she lets him watch the thoughts flit across her face as she considers his words, deciding whether she believes him. Deciding whether he’s right to give her so much devotion.

“Fine,” she finally says. “You’re right.”

A slow smile spreads across his face as he realizes he won. Wrapping his arms around Nesta’s waist and legs, he hauls her into his lap and shifts around until they’re both comfortable. The movie is forgotten for now.

“Out of curiosity…” He noses at the nape of her neck. “What did Eris say about me to make you so angry?”

When Nesta doesn’t answer, he says, “I’ve already heard everything that could possibly be said. The shit that used to get me when I was eighteen doesn’t have the same hold on me a decade later.”

She lets herself relax into his hold. “It was about the time you spent as an orphan.” Technically, he’s still an orphan, but it was different back then. “I didn’t like the tone of his voice.”

Cassian’s answering hum is a low rumble against her shirt. “Did you know my biological father was from Italy?”

Nesta perks up at that. “No.” She assumed he was entirely Algerian, even though he and Azriel probably look ethnically ambiguous to most. “Isn’t that all the more reason to see Italy someday?”

“Not at all,” he says. “If I could pretend that half of me didn’t exist, I would.”

She can’t think of a response that doesn’t involve a question, so she doesn’t reply. She waits for Cassian to speak on his own terms.

“I went to Italy once,” he admits. “For less than a day while my brothers were partying in Monte Carlo. I was young and stupid, and thought I would never be complete if I didn’t know who my father was.”

“Who was he?” She doesn’t know why she’s whispering.

“No one worth remembering,” Cassian says, his arms unconsciously tightening around her. “I put some dots together and realized how he and my mother must have met, how he must’ve—forced himself on her, and I decided that I didn’t care about bloodlines at all. I never returned to Italy after that.”

Nesta’s hands want to reach out and touch him, soothe him. But her muscles are suddenly very cold, and she can only stiffen. “And what about now? Do you… not want to go back?”

“It’s just a place to me,” he says. “Nothing special, nothing terrible. But I like the way it sounds when you talk about it.” His eyes sparkle. “I’d like to pretend it’s my first time going with you.”

“Alright, then.” She nods. “One day, we’ll go together. It’ll be our first time.”

***

Cassian refuses to let Nesta leave bed the next morning, dragging his heavy mouth across her body whenever she tries to get up. She’s about to surrender to him altogether when her phone starts vibrating loudly, insistently.

Breaking away from Cassian’s attempt at cuddling, she answers without checking the caller ID. “Yes?” she croaks sleepily.

“Where the hell have you been?” Emerie demands.

Nesta shoves Cassian away despite his protests, untangling her legs from the sheets. “At home,” she says, getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom. “Am I supposed to be somewhere else?”

“We haven’t seen you in two weeks,” Emerie says. “Gwyn thought your boyfriend’s weird family killed you.”

“That’s not what happened,” Nesta assures, pulling her shorts down and sitting on the toilet. “I just needed some alone time.” People are all around her these days, it seems. Her body still can’t quite adjust to it.

“Well, have you had enough—are you peeing?”

“Yeah.” She wipes and flushes the toilet.

“Well, clear your day and kick your sorry boyfriend out of your place. I can’t remember the last time I went out.”

“Why does everybody always want to go out?” Nesta says as she washes her hands. “What’s wrong with staying in, being safe, never leaving the house?” She dries her hands on a towel and returns to the bedroom, where Cassian is now sitting up and checking his emails.

“You’re preaching to the choir, but this actually wasn’t my idea,” Emerie says.

Nesta and Cassian alert at the sound of a knock from the front door. Nesta never has uninvited guests.

“Hold on a second, Em,” she says, jogging up the short set of steps to the door. She opens it to the sight of an exasperated-looking Gwyn.

“Jeez, next time send a text that you’re alive, will you?” Gwyn says, shoving past Nesta to enter the apartment. “Do you know how worried I’ve been—” She halts midsentence, one foot hovering above a step as she realizes that Nesta isn’t alone. As she sees Cassian in her bed, bare-chested and highly amused.

“Hey.” He raises a hand in greeting.

Gwyn pales.

“Hello?” Emerie calls over the line.

“You girls both share the same brain,” Nesta sighs. “Let me call you back, Emerie.”

Gwyn whirls around just as Nesta hangs up. “That won’t be necessary,” she says quickly, looking embarrassed. “I’ll be outside. I’m sorry.”

She hurries out of the apartment even faster than she came in, ducking her head to hide her face.

Nesta tosses her arms up in the air. “Great,” she says to Cassian. “Your abs scared her away.”

“But I didn’t do anything—”

She shuts the door behind her as she follows Gwyn outside, barefoot and all. She barely notices the freezing cold air or the awful press of damp grass beneath her feet as she catches up to Gwyn and grabs her elbow. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Gwyn jerks suddenly, yanking out of Nesta’s hold. Her breathing seems a little shallow, and she looks even more embarrassed for it. “It’s nothing. I just didn’t know you had someone over.”

“Cassian? He’s cool, you don’t need to be weird about him,” she tries to reassure Gwyn. “Though I did use to tell him that not everybody wants to see him shirtless all the time.”

“It’s not that,” Gwyn says, waving her off.

Nesta gestures to the apartment. “Do you want to come back inside, then? I’m sure he has clothes on by now.”

Gwyn clears her throat uncomfortably and looks down. “I’d rather not. I’m—I don’t like being around men.”

Nesta pauses, not sure if she heard right. “Like, in a ‘check the backseat of your car before getting in’ way, or…?”

“No, like I can’t be alone in a room with a man without feeling sick. It activates my fight or flight, it’s weird.” She’s carefully stiff, like she’s ready to be met with humiliation.

Nesta remembers that Gwyn has never told her about her therapy sessions before, but she knows they’re more intensive than her own weekly conversations with Lana.

“Not that I think your boyfriend is a bad person,” Gwyn adds when Nesta doesn’t respond. “He looks really nice. He sounds nice, too.”

But Nesta doesn’t care about any of that. Unsure of what to do next, she reaches out and awkwardly pats Gwyn on the arm. “Good thing you’ve never been to the cabin, then. Cassian’s brother is staying…” She trails off when she realizes none of this is relevant. “Why are you here so early?” she asks instead.

Gwyn eases up a little at the change in subject. “I missed you. We’ve barely talked since Christmas.”

Nesta didn’t realize people would take such notice to her absence. “Yeah.” She flushes. “I do that sometimes. I’ll send a message next time I go into hibernation, though.”

“You’re freezing,” Gwyn suddenly scolds, noticing how Nesta’s goosebumped arms are wrapped tightly around herself. She unzips her red hoodie and shrugs it off. “Go back inside and get dressed.” She flings the hoodie around Nesta’s shoulders before Nesta can protest. “Meet me at my car. We’re hanging out.”

Nesta knows that a last minute change of events is not the end of the world, even if it sometimes feels like it. For Gwyn and Emerie, she can bear the discomfort of unexpected plans, same as she does for Cassian. But she at least has to know: “How long will we be out?”

“You can come home after lunch.” At Nesta’s face, Gwyn adds, “Lunch will be at two and shouldn’t take more than an hour.”

Looking her friend up and down, someone who has such an easy time understanding her, Nesta nods in satisfaction. She turns around to go back inside.

***

They end up at the library where Gwyn works, in the stacks of the long-abandoned encyclopedia section.

Emerie takes a loud sip from the huge McDonald’s soda she snuck in. “So all this show was because Gwyn didn’t want to work her shift alone?”

“I just have some last minute cleanup to do,” she hisses for the third time, shoving an old book back where it belongs. “Go to the porn section if you’re so bored here.”

“Oh, I definitely will,” Emerie says. “But I’m glad that we’re congregating now, even if it’s in the most depressing part of the library. I have a present for you girls.” She hands Nesta her drink so she can dig around in her purse.

Nesta personally has no complaints. The library is quiet, it smells of paper and old ink, and it holds all her favorite books. It’s almost better than staying in.

Emerie successfully pulls out a handful of folded and wrinkled papers from her bag, smoothing them out as best she can. “One for each of us,” she says, passing the papers around.

Nesta takes her paper and stares at the header. Gwyn is the first to speak. “Pole dancing classes?”

“Why?” Nesta says.

“Well, I originally offered them to Justinian and Isaac but they said no—”

“It’s really not for me,” Gwyn interrupts, trying to pass the registration form back to Emerie. “Sorry.”

Nesta doesn’t give her form back.

“Look,” Emerie says. “I get the hesitation. We’re a handful of boring bitches who hate having fun. But don’t you think that has to change at some point?”

“I’ve known you guys a month,” Gwyn retorts. “We’ve only been boring bitches for a month. This is too much.” She turns to Nesta for help.

Nesta is still staring at the paper. Dancing—on a pole, yes, but it’s still dancing. “I’ll do it,” she says.

Gwyn looks betrayed and Emerie looks elated. “Really?” She hops up and down. “That’s two against one, Gwyn. You have to do it, too.”

Gwyn’s cheeks are turning red in frustration. “You can’t just force this on me—”

“Gwyneth,” a sharp voice interrupts their conversation. Nesta spins around to find a young woman with dark skin and bleached white curls heading in their direction, a stack of books in her arms.

She halts before Nesta and glares. “No food or drink in the library.” She looks pointedly at the 32-ounce in her hand.

“It’s not mine.” Nesta shoves the drink back to Emerie.

But the librarian has turned to Gwyn, who hides the dance class form behind her back. “And what are you doing here?” she demands.

“Just putting up a few books, Merrill,” Gwyn answers quickly.

“While socializing?” the woman named Merrill sneers.

“We were just asking for help finding the romance section. Is that a problem?” Emerie crosses her arms and steps forward, letting a little of her beautiful deadliness slip into her stance. It’s the deadliness of someone at the top of her law class, someone who will graduate in a few months with all the power she could want in the palm of her hand. Nesta gets a rush from playing the lawyer game, too, but she’s never had the kind of ambition that Emerie has. Emerie is a shark sitting around in a small pond.

Merrill is not impressed. She snatches the styrofoam cup dangling from Emerie’s hand and tosses it in the nearby trash can. She turns back to Gwyn. “Hand your badge over and clock out.”

“But I’m not done yet—”

“Now.”

“Okay,” she squeaks. She pulls her ID badge off her neck and hands it to Merrill.

Nesta gapes in disbelief. Before she can speak up, Merrill says, “No loitering in the library. If you don’t have anything you need to check out, leave.” With one final judgmental look, she turns down an aisle of dusty books and disappears.

Gwyn makes a face at her back.

“That woman is not old enough to be acting that misanthropic,” Emerie says after Merrill is gone.

“Whatever,” Gwyn mutters. The registration form is still in her hand. She crumples it into a ball and throws it into the trash. “Let’s get out of here.”

Nesta stares at the trash as Gwyn turns to leave. “Coward,” she says.

Gwyn’s head snaps toward Nesta, her auburn hair swinging. “Excuse me?”

She shrugs. “You heard me.” Emerie’s eyes bounce back and forth between the girls.

“I did,” Gwyn says. “I was just making sure this wasn’t coming from the woman who would sooner bite someone’s head off than do something she doesn’t want to.”

“Girls,” Emerie snaps before Nesta can bite back. “It’s just a stupid dance class. I thought it would be fun to do together, but it doesn’t matter anymore.” Taking Gwyn by one arm and Nesta by the other, she starts steering them out of the stacks like a stern mother. “Now let’s go eat. I’m fucking hungry.”

Gwyn’s mood from the library doesn’t recover, even as they sit down for lunch at the local diner. Nesta thinks Gwyn might actually be sick when the male waiter winks at her while taking her order, and it’s not until long after he’s gone that color returns to her face. When their food arrives, Gwyn only picks at her plate.

“What’s wrong?” Nesta finally has to ask bluntly. “You look pukey.” Did the coward comment affect Gwyn more than she let on, or was it Merrill’s attitude that threw her off?

At Nesta’s words, Gwyn becomes even more pallid. “I just don’t feel great today,” she murmurs, looking around like she’s seeking a way out of the diner. “Sorry guys, I didn’t mean to be such a buzzkill. Maybe I should go home early.”

“Absolutely not,” Emerie says. “If you’re going home, we’re going home with you.”

Gwyn bites her lip, trying to decide if she wants that or not. But something about her antsy demeanor is too familiar to Nesta, because she says, “If you really want to be alone, do you mind driving me home first? Emerie’s car is a mess.”

“You just need to move around a few papers,” Emerie protests.

But Gwyn nods distractedly, already gathering her things. “Sure, no problem.” They pay the bill and go their separate ways.

During the ride home, the sky that’s been gray all day finally breaks open, unleashing a spattering of rain over the town. Nesta watches it sprinkle while Gwyn drives in silence.

“Why are you scared of Merrill?” she eventually asks. “She doesn’t look much older than you.”

Gwyn snorts, but there isn’t much heart to it. “Merrill is my superior, but I can handle her on most days.”

“Just not today?”

Gwyn eyes Nesta warily from the corner of her eye. “No, not today. Or this week.”

Nesta chooses not to push. The dull metal of the cars surrounding them glints under the rain, and they arrive at a red light.

After a minute, she takes a breath and blurts, “I’m not always like that around guys, you know.”

Nesta watches her closely, remembering how ghostly she seemed around Cassian, then the waiter. “Keep going.”

Gwyn stares straight at the traffic ahead, her fingers turning bone white on the steering wheel. “I’m just going through a hard period. Everything upsets me and I don’t know how to think straight. It’s like my brain accidentally traveled to the past and now it’s stuck there.” She sounds shaky, breathless, and it makes Nesta wonder what exactly her mind is experiencing.

Nesta knows what it’s like to be unable to move on. Her own brain has only recently started looking toward the future. “Where are you stuck, specifically?” she asks hesitantly. Maybe she can help Gwyn navigate her way out.

Gwyn’s chin quivers. “In a dark room.” Her lips form a tight line. “Being held down. I’m outnumbered.”

Nesta’s stomach turns. “How far back is it?”

“Two years,” Gwyn whispers. “Lately I can’t even look at anything without—remembering it. Thinking about it. Every time I feel like I’m moving past it, I end up being wrong.”

The light turns green, and Nesta puts a hand on Gwyn’s knee in an attempt to ground her. “Drive,” she commands softly.

Gwyn presses down on the accelerator, but Nesta can feel her leg trembling beneath her hand. She squeezes her knee hard. Even with the dark parts of her own past, Nesta has never felt what Gwyn is feeling right now. So she tries to stick to what she knows.

“It’s like you said,” she says carefully. “You’re going through a period where your brain isn’t being friendly to you. It’s horrible, but you can live with the knowledge that it’ll be over eventually.”

Gwyn shakes her head, holding back tears. “It doesn’t work like that. Once it goes away, it’ll just come back again. And it’ll be like that for the rest of my life.”

“You’re right.” Nesta doesn’t have a solution for that, and she hates it. “You’ll never forget. You can be at the peak of your life and still remember all of it. But,” she says slowly, “whether you reach a point where it barely fazes you, or if you keep crippling under the weight of it decades later, you’ll still be normal. You’ll be a perfectly normal human.”

Gwyn lets out a tearful laugh at that. “What does that even mean?”

Shit. “It means…” Nesta tries to explain herself better. “In case you’re worried that there’s something very wrong with you, I’m here telling you that there’s not. There will never be anything wrong with you.”

Gwyn eyes her skeptically as they turn onto a residential road. “Even if I never get past one nightmare I lived years ago? Even if that nightmare defines me until the day I die?”

“That won’t happen.” Nesta’s tone is simple, factual. “But yes, even then.”

“Really? You’re not gonna tell me to live for the better days or whatever?”

“Does that sound like something that would help you? Because I can say it if it does.”

Gwyn snorts. “No.” But her limbs are steady and her eyes are clear on the road. She clears her throat. “Thank you for listening. I think I might feel a little better now.”

“Was it because of what I said?” Nesta tries not to be too hopeful.

“I wouldn’t give you that much credit,” Gwyn says, crushing her hope. “But I’m glad I told you. It makes things…a lot easier for me.” She exhales deeply.

“You know my plate is mostly empty these days.” Nesta pats her knee. “That means I’ll always have room to help carry your shit.”

They pull up to Nesta’s apartment, and Gwyn parks at the curb. “Give me your dance class thing,” she says suddenly.

Frowning, Nesta pulls the wrinkled paper out of her purse and hands it to Gwyn.

Gwyn smooths it out on the steering wheel and grabs a pen from a cupholder, clicking it. “If you’re going to help carry my shit, I guess I have time for pole dancing now.”

“But that’s mine,” Nesta protests as Gwyn starts filling out the form.

“It can be both of ours,” she says, writing Nesta’s name under hers.

“Really?” Nesta grins with an excitement that she doesn’t easily feel. “You’re going to do it with us?”

“Why would I let you do it without me? So I can become the third wheel in our girl group?” She gives Nesta a look that says No way in hell.

Nesta rolls her eyes. “That would never happen to you.”

“Sure,” Gwyn drawls. She finishes the form and folds it in half before pocketing it. “I’ll give this to Emerie as a gift.” She leans over to peck Nesta on the cheek. “Now get home. Love you.”

Nesta turns red at the words and coughs. “Thanks for the ride,” she responds, getting out of the car.

“Say it back!” Gwyn calls after her. But Nesta shuts the door in her face and waves, pretending she can’t hear her. Gwyn mock-scowls at her through the window, but lets her off easy and drives away.

That’s enough feelings for today, Nesta decides. Even if her chest is swelling with emotion for her friend. It’s a sweet hurt that lingers long after she returns to her empty apartment.

***

a/n: i’m back in my no plot, just vibes era

taglist: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #ncssianwrites #a favor #nessian fic #nessian au

[syndianites]

A Queen Serves and Protects

Chapter One

Current --> Next Chapter!

Summary: Post-Style Queen, Pre-Queen Wasp.

Chloe finds the Bee Miraculous, but instead of finding an obliging, subservient Kwami, she finds the Kwami of Order and Subjugation, and Pollen is not about to let herself be used like Nooroo was.

Granted, the only danger in a teenage girl is the damage she poses to herself. Can Pollen shape Chloe into a hero? Or will she stubbornly refuse to change and remain the bitter, harsh person the city has long since known?

[My take on how Chloe's character could have developed]

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The tap tap tap of nails on a desk was all Chloe could think about as she blankly stared at the board in front of her. This all was tiring. Notes were tiring. School was tiring. English was tiring. How could someone be expected to sit still and pay attention to something so boring for hours on end?

Movement in her purse reminded her that it was what good students do. Sit and pay attention. Do their own work. Put in their own effort.

Chloe grit her teeth.

Well it was too hard! Being a better person shouldn’t mean taking notes and being studious in class! It should mean saving people from getting hit by a car, or stopping people from kicking puppies, or having people look to her for inspiration! Not this boring shit.

Surreptitiously, she took a deep breath.

It was all going to be worth it, she reminded herself. If she had to sit still and be a good student and do all her work herself, it would be nothing compared to being a superheroine.

But as she grew more restless, her mind wandered towards what got her into this situation in the first place....

///////

One might have called it a stroke of luck to find a magical item on the sidewalk. Of course, after a day as shitty as that, anything positive would be considered lucky.  Such was not the case for Chloe.

She didn’t know what it was at first and had almost passed it by when she second guessed herself. It looked old, but well cared for. Most of all, the box looked priceless and a quick peek into the box showed a luxurious comb.

Her mom had walked away with a dismissive ‘Come along, Cassandra,’ which had her shutting the box and hurrying to not be left behind.

A limo ride later and she found herself back in her room, ignored by her mother and forgotten by her father as he fussed over Audrey. Typical. But sure, her mom furiously turns her dearest Adrien into a gold statue, then does the same to Chloe when she tries to help him!

Chloe pursed her lips. It’s not like Audrey would have remembered how close she was to Adrien after being away for so long. If she had, surely she would have spared poor Adrikins? Her hands tightened into fists.

Except, she was still holding something. 

The box with the comb. It had slipped her mind as she’d arrived home. Barely made a dent against the sickening feeling that curled up in her stomach as her mother hemmed and hawed, not sparing even a glance at her daughter she’d betrayed.

Which was fine. She’d been akumatized. Surely the stress and aftermath of being taken into Hawkmoth’s fold would cause her to forget about her beloved daughter. Later, when Audrey had properly taken her wrath out onto the proper people, she would come up and fuss over Chloe and ensure she was alright.

Or she’d send her daddy to do it. 

Returning her attention back to the box, she lifted the lid once more. It was a lovely shade of golden yellow, with black detailing. Upon closer look, taking in the fine detail of what seemed to be insect wings, Chloe realized that she was looking at a beautifully crafted bee comb.

She ran a delicate finger on the edge of the comb only to be met with blinding light. Cringing away, she brought her hand up to shield her eyes. When the light dissipated, she glanced up.

The box and comb clattered to the floor.

A bee was floating in front of her.

A bee with a big head, and big eyes, and arms, and a big stinger, and Oh. My. God.

She screamed.

///////

Eyes flicked towards the window to catch the dying rays of dusk. A trembling hand brought a delicate porcelain mug up to a man’s face. He finished off the now lukewarm tea and let it sit for a moment. 

Peering into the remains, he observed the major remnants of the tea leaves. Lazy, wavy lines dominated the cup, with a scattering of imperfect triangles. Finally, a grouping of mountains to one side.

Master Fu hummed in thought.

“What do you think of the fate of the Bee, Master?” Wayzz spoke up from where he sipped his own drink. 

Turning back to the nearly navy darkness of the sky, Fu replied, “We will have to see, my friend. Only time will tell us now.”

///////

“Please calm down My Queen. Surely Ladybug informed you of what you needed to know?” Pollen reassured quickly. Except, the small being felt something was off. She was floating safely in an apartment with a girl she’d never seen before, no akuma in sight or mind. Her Chosen was clearly surprised to see her.

And there was no Ladybug in sight.

Still, she kept a smile on her face.

“What are you! What do you mean Ladybug told me what I need to know? Wait,” Chloe broke off with a gasp, “Are you how Ladybug gets her powers?”

Ah, a red flag. 

Pollen was plenty aware that Ladybug had chosen her to assist in an akuma fight. If she had not been delivered by Ladybug then something must be amiss. For now, she would watch her words carefully.

“No, My Queen. But I am an ally of Ladybug,” Pollen continued. “I am here to help grant another the power to assist Ladybug and Chat Noir in their quest to defeat akumas and stop Hawkmoth.”

The girl’s eyes lit up. “Does this mean I get to be a superheroine? I knew it! I knew Ladybug would see she needed my help!”

Pollen stopped her there, “On the contrary, My Queen. With Ladybug absent it is my duty to uphold order and ensure you are a good fit to be bestowed my power. Since there is no immediate threat, I see fit to judge your character as you go about your day.”

“What!” The girl griped at her, “Clearly Ladybug knew what she was doing. If you can make me become a superhero I demand you do it!.”

There was a harsh pull in her gut and Pollen fought to bite her words back. She knew she had to obey her holder, but she also knew enough to pull through some loopholes. Poor Nooroo has been stuck in a terrible enslavement for far too long for the rest of the kwami to not prepare for such an occasion.

“You must be a good person to be a superhero, first.” The pull in her gut lessened, but remained. “If you can prove to me you are worthy of holding my power, I will make you a superhero.”

Pollen received a scoff in reply. “I am a good person! Just ask anyone at all. My daddykins always tells me I’m doing good, so why wouldn’t I be?”

The pull began to intensify again. Worry started to drum through her. If Pollen couldn’t convince this person to let her check her history first, she wouldn’t have time to find and return to Ladybug- or, at least, inform Ladybug who possessed her Miraculous.

A low, angry buzz started in her chest. A Queen never let her hive be hurt by her own actions. If she did not stop this girl now, she could harm the rest of her kind, as well as Ladybug and Chat Noir.

And, well, who was she to let that happen.

She faked a sigh, “Yes, of course My Queen. Now listen closely.” Pollen risked floating closer to the girl, who leaned in in response. For a moment, she felt bad. The girl seemed earnest enough, if conceited and arrogant. A good Queen would have these traits in modesty, just enough to benefit and little enough to avoid harm. Then the pull in her gut worsened and she chose to make her move. 

With a sweet smile, Pollen leaned forward slowly. Then she turned in a swift movement and struck the poor girl in the junction between her left arm and shoulder. The girl let out a choked screech before her body came to a full stop, paralyzed. 

Floating back so that she could be seen in full view, Pollen gave a more genuine smile. “That, my Queen, is one of my powers. Immobilization. Now,” she paused, watching the girl’s eye twitch for a split second. “You will listen to me. My first loyalty is to Ladybug. If you are not fit to be her ally, I will not allow you to use my Miraculous. From what I can tell, you stumbled upon my Miraculous by chance.”

A quiet part of her whispered that Master Fu could have had a hand in this, but she dismissed it.

“Ladybug chose me to help her with the latest akuma, and they are gone. However, I am willing to give you a chance. While I serve both my Master and Ladybug, I am my own being. If you can prove you are good enough to help Ladybug and Chat Noir, I will grant you my power to help them. If not, I will reclaim my Miraculous and return to Ladybug, telling her that you are not fit to wield any such Miraculous.”

Pollen clasped her hands behind her back and puffed up her chest, portraying an image of regality in such a small body. “So I will offer you a deal. You will not ask me to make you into a hero. You will not order me to do anything. Most importantly, you will not reveal me or my Miraculous to anyone other than Ladybug or Chat Noir, or my Master. In return, I will spend time with you to decide whether you are fit to be my holder- and if you are, I will see to it that you are trained and informed as much as I can do for you before you go into the fight with Ladybug and Chat Noir. If at any point you break this deal I will immediately take my Miraculous back and you will never be allowed to see it again.”

She lowered her eyes to look down upon the still frozen girl. “Do you accept the terms of the deal?”

The girl, for her part, didn’t move. Rather, her anger and impetulant thoughts swirled in her head. While Pollen was no Kwami of Emotion or Mind, she could feel her inner chaos. As the girl realized that she would not be set free unless she made the deal, her fire wore down.

Pollen broke out into a smile. She floated forward, ready to let her free of her grasp. This was a risk. If she didn’t accept the deal, this girl could turn the tides on her in an instant. If the girl realized she could command her to do whatever she wanted, it would be over. Just under her display of confidence, fear swam in her stomach.

But she was nothing if not determined. With a tap to the young lady’s face, she was unfrozen.

For a moment, the girl fumbled over her words,” I- you- how did you- how dare you!”

When Pollen pointedly swept down to pick up her Miraculous and floated back, the girl stopped.

In her head, her mind ran on the idea of being a hero. Being beside Ladybug. Being loved by all of Paris. Being good enough for her Mother to remember her name. This was her chance! Her chance to change everything! To prove herself! If she just said yes and passed the stupid little test, she would get to be a hero.

Besides, she could bend and break the deal if she needed to.

Brushing down her capris, the girl stood up straight. With all the dignity she learned from being the child of the mayor, she calmly spoke, “I accept your deal.”

Pollen fought down a crushing smile. Instead, she reached a paw forward to shake on it. The girl, to her credit, only eyed her a moment before giving a finger to shake.

“Excellent. My name is Pollen. For the next twenty-four hours I will be watching you go about your life as normal to determine if you are deserving of my power.”

“Well, Pollen, I am Chloe Bourgeois, Ladybug’s closest ally, I can assure you that you will find nothing but good things about me!”

////////

Above the Dupain-Cheng Bakery, a sleep-deprived girl sat up hastily working through homework as the night ticked on. Perhaps from the late hour, or her finally caving under all the stress of her life, she felt like laughing. Giggles escaped her to the alarm of a sleepy Tikki beside her.

“Marianette, are you okay?” The kwami asked in concern.

“Yeah,” Marianette stifled a laugh. “I just suddenly had the thought that something super funny happened.”

Tikki shook her head disapprovingly. “You need to sleep. Staying up this late is not good for you.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she sighed, “It has been way too long a day after losing the Bee miraculous.”

Tikki patted her shoulder in sympathy as Marianette got up and began her bed routine.

A long day indeed.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #chloe bourgeois #pollen (ladybug) #ml fanfic #ml

[darkacademicfrom2021]

The Dark Team (part 7)

<<Previous part Masterlist   Next part>>

Join the taglist in here (Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87, @the-departed-potato, @jesuswasnotawhiteman)

Warnings: mentions of suicide and murder, awfully cheesy petnames (yes I have to put a warning on that).

The streets were so cold you had to rub your hands to your neck as you walked. You had only one piece of information that could’ve been possibly linked to that murder, and therefore that stick.

Saying you weren’t worried about being very undercover was a lie; an almost seven feet tall “man” that dressed like a millionaire, and a man with a metal prosthesis and abnormal sized muscles were not exactly the definition of discrete, much less once they were being categorized as “wanted”.

“Are you sure it’s this way?” asked Loki impatiently.

“No”.

“And why…?”.

“Stop torturing me with questions you know the answer of. Shut it and let me do my thing”.

“What is exactly your thing?”.

“Trying to not stab you in the balls, if you keep being this annoying”.

“Alright, guys, keep it down”, mediated Bucky. His role in the team was starting to be more and more like a third wheel in a car that’s trying to break down purposely, and he hated every second of it. “Can’t wait for this mission to be over”.

“Talking about that, we still have a game of cards on hold”.

“We could never play that with Loki, he has mind powers or some shit like that. He’d cheat”.

“Me?” he held a hand to his chest dramatically, “I would never cheat on a cards game. That is dishonest and I would never do such mischievous thing”.

Your phone beeped and the address changed suddenly. You stopped dead on your tracks and both Loki and Bucky, who were walking in line behind you, stumped with each other and almost made you trip.

“Careful, guys”.

“Are you fucking…”.

“Leave it there, Barnes”.

“What happened?”.

“I don’t know, the address suddenly changed. This isn’t supposed to happen”, you hit a few times your phone after it froze, and realized it wouldn’t work anymore. “Well, we’re gonna have to do this the old fashioned way”.

“And how’s that?”.

“How am I supposed to know? You’re the one that's a thousand years old and he’s a hundred and six. I’m barely around the two decades”.

“I’m beginning to think maybe you’re not one for this job. Aren’t you the one in charge of the planning? How did you even get to this Stank Internship in the first place?”.

“Hey, don’t be mean to them. They’ll cry”.

You rolled your eyes and ignored them. Meanwhile, you looked around. You had to find this person. A person who saw the “death” of the man with the pendrive, but the only one who said nothing about it. Only thing you knew was that he was a worker in a coffee shop. Which coffee shop, you’d ask? Well, that’s a good question.

It had to be in the neighborhood, that was for sure. You looked around a bit more, trying to drink in all the information the streets and its habitants could give you.

“The man was killed being thrown off that building. They said it was suicide. It was not”, you finally said out loud, pointing at the direction of one of the tallest buildings of the city. You were too concentrated to even realize you had stopped talking again.

The man you were looking for had to have a full view of the window the guy was thrown off from, so it would be in… that direction. A reasonable distance to see both guys would be less than two blocks. And it happened in an unreasonable hour for a work break, so… it had to be… alright. I think I got it.

“What are we looking for, then?”.

“There has to be a coffee shop maximum two blocks away from one of these three streets, the counter of the bar has to be near the window (or showcase) and the showcase should be tall enough to see the high part of the building, so I’d say at least three meters tall. I assume the man we’re looking for is old and introverted, quiet, not very friendly. Not less than fifty years old”.

“Alright Sherlock”, said Bucky, patting your back. “I’ll write down not to mock your intellect. Now you don’t have to pretend like you just figure that out all by yourself”.

“Okay”, you said, not paying any attention to his words. You were still juicing all the information you could.

“I got lost in the description of the man, how did you reach that conclusion?”, asked Loki, who apparently was reading your mind, following your thought process.

“Well, he’s the only one who didn’t testify at all. The witnesses in this sort of cases go through a polygraph. If all he saw was a suicide, then he wouldn’t be lying, he’d go through the lie detector and go out as if anything happened. Since he saw more, and didn’t say anything, it’s probably because he wanted to protect himself against the law, or just too lazy to go into all the bureaucracy it’d imply”, you explained. Loki had a full blown smile across his face, not even hiding it. “What are you smiling at?”.

“Nothing”, he brushed it off and pretended to fix his tie.

“No, please, do give me your input”.

“I can’t read whether you’re being sarcastic or not”.

“Wanna find out, dear?”.

“Hey, the aggressive pet names are my thing. Get your own passive-aggressive mechanism”.

“Can you concen…? You know what? Whatever. I’m going there”, cut Bucky. He was so done.

You walked as fast as you could down the nearest street out of the three possible ones, and kept rubbing your (now almost numb) cold fingers.

“Buck, do you have a gun with you?”.

“I don’t think this is the best moment to kill yourself. Let us finish the mission first”.

“Though, honestly, I think it could speed things up a little”, added Loki.

“Wow, you guys are especially mean today. We might need something to threaten the guy with”.

“Just a pocket knife. Do you think it could help at all?”, he searched for more weapons in his pockets, but found none. Going undercover, you all had to leave your suits and armor in the hotel room. Loki cleared suggestively his throat and you gasped.

“Really? You can make it out of nowhere?”.

“No, but give me a weird shaped branch or anything similar and I can transform it. Transfigurations have been my specialty lately, though”.

“I love you wholeheartedly”.

“I’d literally marry you on the spot”.

“In fact, I think I might kiss you right now”.

“You guys have no idea how glad I am to know you’re lying”, said Loki, patting Bucky’s back.

To find the place was way easier than you had anticipated. Firstly, because it matched every single aspect you had predicted. Secondly, because it was the only coffee shop in the whole place.

The clicking bell filled the silent place as the scent of fresh coffee and baked goods infested your noses. There was only an old lady reading a paper and the fifty year old you were looking for. Bucky sat down on a table near the counter and you and Loki greeted the man.

“Hi, how are you?” you said with a fake warmth that would assure you his confidence. “We would like a black coffee…”, you looked at Loki, still acting, and he reached your thoughts telepathically to hear your “act, dude; you’re frowning”. He immediately softened up his expressions. “What would you like to drink, dear?”.

“Same as you, darling”, he smiled even faker than you. “So are we pretending to be a couple, now?”.

“Alright, two blacks, please”, you went back to the barista. “Yes, old people get all softies for young couples. Just follow me, we need him to like us”. “And a strawberry milkshake with extra cream and a cherry on top, for the gentleman on the table”.

“Going right up”, said the old man.

“Do you ever take vacations on mocking people?”.

“Never. It’s a true blessing”.

“So, what’s the plan?”.

“Same as it was before, except we can’t actually cause any harm while threatening him, if we do”.

“Why?”.

“Old lady at twelve o’clock?? Man, you really lack any empathy for innocent civilians, don’t you?”.

“Only with mortals. Don’t really care for them”.

“You’re probably lying. I know behind that shell there must be a big soft heart longing for...”.

“Alright, shut up, here comes our order”.

“Thank you, ah, wonderful”, you said, grabbing the cups. You pretended to just notice the news behind the counter, and Loki made the illusion of a highly realistic periodistic note on the suicide of the man with the stick. “Oh my… is that what I think it is?”.

The old man raised his eyebrows, intrigued.

“Uh, is just… don’t watch that, darling. It’ll make you feel sick”, said Loki tenderly, caressing your shoulder. “We sort of saw that… happening, you know?” he explained the old man.

“Oh, really?”.

“Yes, it was really close from here. Oh God, we saw it all happen, this poor man”.

“Very disturbing. Never seen such a gruesome situation in my short, very, very, very short life”, added Loki.

“Alright, we get it, humans live short lives”. “Believe me, you’re so lucky you didn’t have to see that”.

“Really?”, said again the barista, visibly nervous. “That terrible?”.

“Well, it’s a common tragedy, to be honest. But, you know, the cops and investigators were on our backs all night long”.

“Finally free now”, added Loki, still with his arm protectively wrapped around your shoulders. “You’re truly lucky to miss it”.

“Oh, yes. Sounds terrible. Glad didn’t see it, then”, he lied. And he was a bad liar. You didn’t even need Loki to tell you what you could so clearly see.

“And you know… I didn’t think it’d work, but we…” you chuckled innocently, as a kid telling their devilry to a friend, “we sort of lied to the lie detector, and it worked”.

“Love!”, gasped Loki, and lowered his voice “we shouldn’t be telling this to anyone. What if it spreads around?”.

“But, honey, have you seen this man? Why would you think he could wrong us?” you pointed at him and he, as you predicted, blushed with a smile.

“What did you lie about, if I may ask?”. He fell into the trap. You bent over the counter and lowered your voice.

“We saw it was not a suicide”.

Your expressions drew all seriousness and a terrifying look on your eyes gave the man the trust that you were being honest with him. He bent down on the counter too.

“What do you mean?”.

“We saw… oh God”, you started saying, but your eyes watered and Loki didn’t hesitate to hold your head to his chest, comforting you while you sobbed.

“I know, sweetheart, it’s terrible. I know”, he cooed. “We don’t know what to do with this piece of information. The man was thrown off violently, and the things they did to him before…” Loki hinted. The man swallowed hard and started sweating. Loki muttered nonsense, and you continued his empty explanation with sobs that sounded like words but nobody could actually figure out what you meant.

“That sounds awful, wow”, said the man, pretending he heard. Truth was, he didn’t need to insensitively ask for you to repeat yourself. He knew what had happened.

“We wonder what kind of deals could be behind all that, you know?”.

“Yes, very strange, to try to strip the man like that” started saying the old man, too affected by the situation to actually notice he was spilling the true tea. “It sounds like all a very weird business”.

“And that thing they pulled out of him!”.

“Ah… yes”.

You and Loki had started to lose your patience, and figured the man would be harder to interrogate like this than you’d expected. Loki squeezed your shoulder.

“My love, we should get going, don’t you think?”. And with get going he meant knocking the guy off and getting into his memories through Loki’s magic.

“No, my dearest, let’s stay here”, you insisted, without wanting to cause the fuss this was going to make. Ever since you came into the coffee shop, three other family groups had entered and were waiting for their order.

“But, sweet pie… I think we’re shocking the man enough”.

“Oh, please, I just want a normal day, honey bunny. Let’s stay and drink a cuppa here”.

Bucky chuckled at the pet name war you two were having, and the old man looked at you suspiciously. You sighed.

“Alright. Fuck it”.

“You’re cops, aren’t you?”, asked the old man. You fell off your character.

“No… but sorry anyways”, you said, kicking him on the face and smashing his head against the counter, leaving him unconscious.

“That was unnecessarily violent, I could’ve made him sleep with seiðr”, stated Loki, watching the man drip blood from his nose.

“Guys'', said Bucky, watching how all the clients were running away in fear, “I thought we said ‘keep it low, threaten discreetly’. What happened?”.

“For Fuck’s sake, just get into his head already, sweet muffin”.

“Hold his head, baby cakes”.

#loki #loki x reader #loki headcanon #loki laufeyson #loki x gender neutral reader #loki fanfic #loki fic #bucky barnes #bucky #james buchanan barnes #loki odinson #barnes #avengers #marvel #mcu loki #loki mcu

[salemwritesxx]

our days together

↳ paraplegic Bakugou x hero Reader

summary: Snippets of Bakugou’s and Y/n’s lives, including a proposal.

w.count: 2.5k

content warning: fluff, baku in a wheelchair

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 “Oi!”, you called out and laughed, “You cheater!”

“Phh, yeah right, not my fault you’re so slow.”, Katsuki also laughed as he rolled across the field and threw the basketball – getting it in effortlessly and with that, winning the little game.

Turning around with his wheelchair, a big smirk on his lips, he approached you, who was sitting on the ground and panted, and then stopped in front of you.

“You know, I know I’m like… really fucking hot, but like, you cannot always collapse whenever you see me.”, he teased you with this shit-eating grin on his lips that made you snort and roll your eyes in a playful way.

“Okay, how about this? One more? And the loser has to cook dinner?”, you asked and stood up, immediately meeting Katsuki’s ruby eyes staring at you with that glint in them.

“Okay. But don’t cry into my chest when you lose, okay?”, he grinned and rolled away to get the basketball, your “Yeah, yeah, you and your big mouth, be cautious or I’ll roll you off a hill.” making him laugh.

If anyone would have listened, maybe they would have been a little taken aback by how you talked to each other, but the truth was, it was harmless bickering and teasing. Never would you have hurt your boyfriend in any way, shape or form and both of you knew.

“Hah, fat chance.”, was the last thing he said before throwing the ball into the air for one last game.

--

Rolling through the big, automatic doors, Katsuki was gasping a bit as he had rushed into the hospital as fast as he could with his wheelchair, until he finally reached the information table and he could ask for “L/n Y/n” completely out of breath.

“May I ask who you are?”, the nurse asked back, since she didn’t want any stranger into a hero’s room and even though Katsuki wanted to snap and growl at her, he gulped down his rage and took a deep breath before he said, “Bakugou Katsuki. Y/n is my boyfriend.”

“Ah.”, she then said and smiled, “Yes, yes, L/n-san had mentioned you briefly before they had to bring him into the surgery room.”

“Surgery?”, he barely croaked.

“Yes, he needed surgery as both of his bones in his arms were broken. He is already in room 193 and should be awake.”, she said as if she was talking about the weather, even though it sounded horrible that both your bones were broken to the point you needed surgery.

Thus, he only nodded and with a quick “Thank you.” he rolled away and into the next elevator.

Bakugou had found out barely an hour ago. You had your night patrol, hence why you were admitted to the hospital at around 4 a.m. while Katsuki was asleep at home in the warm bed. To say he felt awful was an understatement. He was sleeping soundly at home, he literally had to pee at around 7 a.m. and being in a wheelchair, he was definitely awake enough to notice his phone vigorously blinking, but instead he chose to ignore it and went back to bed. All while his phone was silently going crazy from the texts and phone calls your friend, that was on the patrol with you, had left with your phone on Katsuki’s.

And now it was 11 a.m., because he was stupid and a lazy ass and he hated himself for sleeping in. Hence, when he had looked at his messages and the voice notes that were left on his phone, he panicked. Bakugou called his mother right then and there to come pick him up, not caring if she had to work, because this was an emergency and he didn’t have a car, let alone a driver’s license. He had never needed one until this day.

Once the ping signaled him he was on the right floor, he rolled outside and looked around to search for the rooms 160 to 200 and in the end, even after asking a nurse because my God that hospital was just way too big and confusing, Katsuki found room 193.

As he opened the door after knocking, you sat there, one arm in a cast and staring at the TV, looking bored and a little uncomfortable, however, the moment you saw him, your face lit up, “Katsuki!”

The two other patients in the room also turned their heads to see who was intruding.

Thankfully, you were on the bed closest to the door, hence he only pushed himself a little further until he faced your bed sideways and he could put his breaks on to scoot a little closer to the edge of the wheelchair so he could lean on your bed.

“Y/n, I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t come sooner.”, he immediately grabbed your free hand to squeeze it, ruby eyes lightly shimmering.

Though you simply shook your head and leaned in to rest your forehead against your boyfriend’s.

“It’s okay. I even told them to not contact you because I wanted to call you myself. I’m sorry they made you panic.”, you also apologized, thumb soothingly drawing on the back of his hand.

“No, you don’t understand!”, he barely whispered, “I was awake at 7 because I had to piss. I could have been here … far sooner, instead. My fucking sleep was more important, I didn’t even look at my phone, even though I knew you were out on a patrol, I should have… I should have looked. It was going off like crazy, but I just turned it around… What if it would have been more serious? What if… you were on the brink of death and instead of coming here as quickly as possible, I just slept at home and I wouldn’t have been able to say goodbye?”, he deeply sighed, feeling awful and just… terrible for being such a shitty boyfriend.

However, once more, you shook your head and then let go of his hand to bury it in his hair instead, softly massaging his scalp and pulling him in for a soft kiss, just to mumble against his lips, “It’s okay. Don’t think about the “what if”, Baby. I am here. And I only had a broken arm. And you are here now too, so… isn’t that the most important thing?”

And slowly, Bakugou nodded and wrapped his arms around your neck.

“I’m just so… so fucking relieved you’re okay.”, and with that, he leaned in to connect your lips.

“My, my, young love.”, made both of you however wince and turn around to look at the elderly woman who was snickering behind her hand and looking at the TV again, both of you then blushing lightly but also smiling at each other.

“Ah!”, when he suddenly heard a small sound from his pocket, Katsuki pulled his phone out. “Oh shit.”

“What?”

“It’s Mom. She says if I don’t come down immediately she is going to rip the nurse to pieces because she won’t tell her your room number for security reasons.”, which made him playfully grin again and you snicker.

“Then you should better go and help her confirm she is welcomed. I don’t want Mom to rip the staff to shreds.”, you snorted and giggled, once more showing how close Katsuki’s family was to your heart since, after so many years, it was natural to call Mitsuki and Masaru Mom and Dad as well.

“But… don’t you think she can wait juuust a little bit longer?”, Bakugou grinned and put the phone onto your bed, before pulling you back in for another kiss, letting Mitsuki wait for just a few moments longer while he was simply relieved you didn’t have a horrifying accident while out on patrol like he once had.

--

“Seriously, where are we going?”, Bakugou asked once again when you opened the car door, his eyes blindfolded.

“Shh, will you shut up already?”, you giggled and leaned in to peck his lips, making him wince, then grin a little. “It’s a surprise, you don’t want to spoil your surprise, right?”, you softly took his arms and positioned them around your shoulders.

“But I don’t feel so good when I can’t see. I feel like a doll being dragged around.”, he then sighed when you picked him up and carried him over to the wheelchair, this time letting you handle everything in order to not ruin the surprise.

“I know, Baby. I promise, it’s over soon, just this once, let me surprise you. Trust me, okay?”, you gently squeezed his hands and then placed them into his lap.

“You know I trust you with my life. As if I would let anyone else blindfold and carry me around.”, and even though it was true (he did trust you with his life) Katsuki’s heart was still hammering wildly in his chest, being a bit nervous, but also excited. He didn’t like being so helpless, since he wasn’t. He could very well take care of himself, though Bakugou was also okay with letting you lead him this time even if he was a bit uncomfortable, he wanted to be surprised by you.

Another soft peck against his lips later, he heard you shutting the car door and then, he felt a soft push, telling him you were now starting to walk.

“You can probably already tell where we are, right?”, you snickered and Katsuki frowned for a bit as he took in the surroundings, smelling the salty air and hearing seagulls and waves in the background.

“The ocean? You don’t want to drown me, do you?”, he snorted and laughed, which only got him a soft flick against the back of his head as you said, “Don’t say that. If anything were to happen to you, I would go crazy.”, which successfully made him close his mouth and blush a little.

For a few moments, you walked in silence and pushed him along, Bakugou waiting in anticipation, wondering what you were going to show him. A sunset?

“Okay… We’re here.”, you put his breaks on and then walked around his wheelchair to kneel down in front of him, “I’m going to take off the blindfold, okay?”, and once he nodded, you reached out your hands.

Once the fabric wrapped around his head was loose and gone, Katsuki blinked a few times before looking around, a soft smile immediately sneaking onto his lips as he watched a beautiful sunset and the waves and ocean glistening.

“What do you think?”, you asked with a hushed voice while gently taking his hands and squeezing them, still kneeling.

Slowly, he turned his head, ruby eyes sparkling as he gifted you one of his rare smiles whilst quietly saying, “It’s beautiful. But that’s not everything you wanted to show me, right?”

“Haha, how did you know?”, you shyly chuckled, though Katsuki simply squeezed your hands and said, “Your hands are shaking.”

And even though he didn’t want to think about, Bakugou has always been a pessimist, looking at the worst case scenario, which could be you bringing him to a beautiful spot to watch the ocean just to break up and softly tell him you couldn’t be together. Though, even he knew that would be a bit of a reach and yet, when he could feel your hands shaking, he inevitably got a little anxious himself.

After a few seconds of silence, you then looked up, your e/c eyes shimmering a little and a soft smile on your lips as you whispered, “You know I love you, right?”, Katsuki immediately nodding and welcoming your lips as you had leaned in to kiss him, just to mumble an “I do. And I love you, too.” back.

Letting go of one of his hands, Bakugou watched when you pulled something out of your pocket, just to feel his heartbeat increase when it was a small jewelry box, his mind racing.

“We have been together for almost 6 years at this point.”, you then started and looked at him again, “I love you. And with every passing day I love you more. Back then, I was just barely out of High School when we met, my friends had urged me to not see you again, because they were embarrassed on my behalf that you were in a wheelchair.”

“Fucking asshats.”, he growled and clenched his teeth.

“Ha, you can say that again. Safe to say I ignored them and looked for new friends afterwards. Because if I would have ever listened to them, I would have never got to know you. I would have not been so happy. I know you sometimes feel like a burden to me, even if you try to conceal it by joking.”, and that was certainly true as Katsuki instantly blushed a bit and glanced to the side, feeling called out.

“But, Baby. I hope you know I have never once thought you were a burden. I love you. And if you ever need me, I will help you, even though I know you can handle yourself all alone, because you are so amazing and strong, you can count on me – always. And…”, then you finally opened the little jewelry box, his eyes already dangerously glazed, “if you let me, I want to be there for you for our whole lives. As your husband and best friend. I want to make many more memories, I want to experience growing old only with you, that’s why… Will you marry me, Katsuki?”

Gulping lightly, he had to look to the side for a few seconds, before turning back, a small tear already dripping from his eyes, hence why he quickly wiped them away, chuckling an “Oh fuck!” in embarrassment and to hide his feelings, just to nod and whisper, “I will.”

“Katsu…”, smiling brightly and with your own little tears shimmering in your eyes, you took the ring out of the little box and slipped it onto his ring finger, fitting perfectly, thus you wrapped your arms around him, Bakugou’s arms also immediately slung around your shoulders as you hugged and kissed him.

“I love you. I love you so much.”, mumbling it against his lips, he chuckled and held on even tighter, whispering sweet nothings back, only to softly gasp when you suddenly grabbed him around his hips and pulled him up, almost looking like you were both standing, though you were holding his weight securely.

“Oh fuck, don’t let me fall.”, he croaked under tears yet still with a joking undertone, though you very seriously answered him as you pecked his lips and quietly muttered, “I would never. I am here to catch you, always.”, which made him tear up again as he teasingly punched your shoulder and mumbled a “So cheesy.” though capturing your lips in the sweetest kiss afterwards while the sun had completely disappeared behind the horizon eventually.

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@salemwritesxx || do not repost, edit, modify or translate my works

writer’s note: a very sad headcanon of mine is that Bakugou, barely 2 years into his hero career, gets paralyzed due to a villain attack and is bound to a wheelchair ever since. i don’t use this headcanon often cuz well, it’s just really sad :( but for today, i thought my headcanon’ed paraplegic baku deserves a little happiness <3

#salemswriting. #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x male reader #bnha x male reader #bottom bakugou #bakugou x you #paraplegic bakugou

[aelingalathyniusrailme]

If you find me on the edge, we’ll jump together.

Pirate au pt 4

azriel was so insanely close to sucker punching berdara. but unfortunately the bargain forbid him from hurting her until after they found the huge hall

he was heading towards his own ship when gwyneth stopped him. “pick your best men I can fit 5 maximum of you on my ship” 

“and why exactly are we taking your ship” 

“and why are you determined to be difficult” he nearly laughed at that, him difficult when she had spent the last 10 minutes toying with him at every chance. 

“I am determined to be fair, we’ll play for it” 

that peaked her interest as her eyes went wide “sword fighting, combat, cards, good old fashioned fists?!?” what was with this girl and fighting.

“uh no I was going to suggest rock paper scissors.” 

“who hurt you to make you so damn boring” 

“who made you a masochist” 

gwyneth didn’t falter for a second “wouldn’t you like to know” she said with a lazy grin

“so majesty are we going to play or not?” 

“best of three”

she put her fist up in answer. 

once again I’ll cut to the chase, after many rounds and accused cheatings azriel won 

“Oh fuck off” she grumbled while he smirked triumphantly 

“that’s not very nice gwyneth” obviously her response was to give him the finger

“bite me” 

“don’t give me any ideas” 

“do what you need to do we leave at dawn” 

“you’re going to be a delight on my ship aren’t you” 

“always am” with that they went back to their respective crews and ships to prepare. 

now that she had left to her own ship azriel thought over what had just happened. he wasn’t so much of a fool that he couldn’t admit she was  beautiful, with hair of flaming locks and a slightly insane look in her eye. there was something about her that despite being incredibly violent she radiated a certain amount of joy. every insult, every quip was said with a bright smile on her face. and she had pinned him with an alarming amount of ease but he wouldn’t let that happen a second time

and fucking hell he had made a bargain. well he knew for sure this journey was going to be something else alright 

on the shadowsinger azriel made an announcement to his crew “everyone sit your asses down and listen up. 5 ladies from the silver majesty are coming aboard our ship to assist us in our search for the huge hall. I am under bargain that no harm will come to any of them, so by affiliation every person aboard the shadowsinger is under the same bargain. you have any questions, take it up with rhys and cassian. I have shit to do in preparation for this voyage and to make sure our other ‘business partners’ stay up and running in our absence. do not bother me” 

about an hour later he was once again alone in his chambers with his first mate and quartermaster. 

“so you really believe they can lead us to it” cassian asked

“I believe that she made a bargain and knows the severity of a bargain.” 

“you bound yourself to the captain of our biggest rival, who you currently want to murder, captain I trust you with my life but I hope you know what you’ve gotten us into” rhys ever the strategist 

I hope so to he thought instead he said “I have thought over every possible outcome and we will come out of this with the huge hall and their heads strung up like trophies nailed to the wall.” 

————— gwyn’s pov at the same moment—————

alright crew fortunately the shadowsinger is on board, pun not intended, unfortunately I lost rock paper scissors and now I will be choosing 5 of us to join them in our hunt for the huge hall. so Em, archeron, VIv, and cressieda you guys are coming with me, bring only as many weapons as you can fit on your person. nuala cerridwen you guys are in charge. if everything is not in order by the time I get back I will start slitting throats. there are instructions in my chambers. so fuck, drink, steal, kill you guys know the drill.” 

gwyn sat with nesta and emerie strategizing 

“how do you see this playing out” nesta asked 

“oh we are going to walk away from this bleeding money with the shadowsinger kneeling at our feet” 

------------------------back to azriel’s pov------------------------

azriel watched as for the first time since he had become a pirate, there were women on his ship indefinitely. to gwyneth’s right stood a tall slender women, with her hair in a simple braid, she was assessing his ship with eyes that looked far too old for her age

to berdara’s left was a thin women with eyes that cut through him, they were sharp and very resentful. she was devastatingly beautiful with two katanas at her hips. behind them were two women with white hair but their differences lay in their skin tone. one had the fair skin of the winter court while the other had dark skin that contrasted her hair marking her as from the summer court. 

azriel looked over to his own crew. cassian was starring at the female with the swords practically drooling over himself while rhys looked indifferent. 

lucien was also starring at the women to gwyneth’s left but he looked at her like he recognized her rather then whatever the fuck cassian was doing 

the women noticed cassian and immediately threw a dagger at his head. it didn’t miss by much. 

“hey!” cassian shouted. “if you had chopped off my hair I swear to fucking god I will rip out your throat like its nothing” 

the girl looked him up and down and ignored him. “really you could have killed me”

so obviously she threw another one. it fell right between his arm and ribs

“berdara can I have a word please?”

“of course”

“rhys please make sure they don’t kill each other” 

“no promises” he replied not looking up

gwyn followed him into his room. 

“so shadowsinger, what do you want to talk about?” she gave him a light punch on the shoulder. he glared at her

“what do I want to talk about? hmm how about that girl just threw a dagger at my quartermaster. twice!”

“ok 1 that girls name is nesta and 2 if she wanted him dead he would be. so I consider that a great success” gwyn smiled earnestly. 

“are you forgetting the bargain we just made?”

“clearly threats were not taking off the table or have you forgotten ‘i will dump you in the river’ or ‘i’m going to shoot you in the head’ or ‘i will leave your guts across the 7 courts’ etc. hers was just a little more physical thats all.” 

“well can you try to control your crew” cheap shot but worth it, until gwyn broke out into a fit of laughter.

“me? control nesta? I thought you said you’ve heard the stories, you must have heard about the time she climbed 6 mountains in 5 different courts to find a man who ripped her off by 2 coppers. coppers! and I was all ‘that’s my girl’  because if there was one thing I’ve learned in this business it would be that men will take every single opportunity to tear you down but they can’t do that if they don’t have limbs.” 

“great so your entire crew is just as insane as you are”

“we maybe insane but at least we aren’t crying over every dagger that comes within an inch of our hearts.” 

“yes I’m sorry we would rather not fucking die”

“oh poor you, you must be a truly terrible pirate if death doesn’t stop at your door every once in a while.” 

“you know I am very much regretting working with you at this moment”

“wait you aren’t in love with me? shocker.” gwyn’s whole demeanor changed and she brightened as if some realization struck. “but that reminds me I was told I need your help to find the treasure and I certainly don’t need more man power so how will you be contributing?”

“I had thought about that and I was think about something you-”

“aww you think about me?” azriel rolled his eyes

“I was thinking about something you said and I would like you to elaborate on the blank map.”

“no please?”

“please” he forced out 

“well my informant who found me the map has never been wrong before and my witch says it reeks of magic.” 

“you think its spelled.” 

“I do”

“and you think I am going to help you uncover the magic?”

“indubitably” azriel was kind of impressed by her certainty

“aren’t you?”

“yes” he grumbled

“thought so, I’m smart like that.” 

“of course you are perfect in every way possible” 

“look any other day I would love for you to shower me in accurate compliments but we are kind of on a time crunch” 

“yes majesty”

“you know what its kind of growing on me, I too consider myself a queen” 

az ignored that and went to his closet. he opened the doors and unlocked the safe taking out the only thing in there. it was a small vile that contained a vibrant blue liquid. he gently carried it over to gwyn

“this is the last liquid fashioned by the last pheonix to ever exist”

“oh my fucking god you have pheonix piss” gwyn was practically jumping with glee. 

“I mean I wouldn’t exactly put it that way but yes, the liquid of the pheonix was said to act as a serum to reveal ones truth. it should be powerful enough to break through any ward or spell. and while mostly used on people it should work on objects too.”

“wait wait wait, that could get you millions and you’re going to use it on this??”

“who’s drooling now? yes it could but this hall could get me more and I’d prefer it not in the hands of certain people.”  

“alright I mean not really how I operate but it’s yours so you can do whatever you want with it.” “glad you approve, map?” gwyn cautiously pulled out the blank map and set it down on the table. 

he opened the vile and began to pour it over the map, praying that this would not be in vain. the vile had cost him greatly. he looked down and gwyn stole the words from his mouth “holy fucking shit.”

#gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel #pirate au #acosf #my babies #I do be lacking the motivation to write so part 5 might be in a while