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sashaisready · 5 months

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Chapter Eighteen - Weakness

Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader

You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again

Warning: Dark - Kidnapping and false imprisonment, threats with a gun, threats of violence/sexual assault, references to murder, rough handling of reader

18+ - see Masterlist for full list of warnings

Chapter 19

Series Masterlist

You briefly allow yourself to hope that this is Bucky and his men. That he's doing this as some sort of twisted punishment for what you said. Yes, that would be a super fucked up thing to hope for, but at least you'd stand a chance of getting out of this alive.

As time goes on it becomes clear that this isn't Bucky, though. You don't recognise any of their voices. You have no idea who these men are.

This is bad. Really bad.

You do your best to stay calm, knowing panicking will mean you won't have your wits about you. You need to stay focused, do everything you can to stay alive.

Finally, after a very bumpy car ride as you laid on the floor of the vehicle, you get to wherever you're going. The journey was about forty minutes you think, maybe an hour, you try and work out how far that might be out of the city, but to no avail. They park up and you hear people step out to talk. You strain to hear what they're saying through whatever fabric is over your head - there are at least two of them, maybe three. They don't use names and don't give anything away about who they might be or what they're doing with you. They just mutter about the boss, and everything being in place for something. You can't make out the rest.

Suddenly the door is wrenched open, you are tugged up to your feet and snatched roughly out of the vehicle. It hurts and you know you'll likely have bruises up your arms from where they've manhandled you. You're standing outside again when the gun impatiently taps on the back of your head and you take that as indication to walk. You can't see so you have no idea where you're going, a firm hand on your shoulder is guiding you to walk in the direction they want you in. You clomp awkwardly in your date night heels.

"Please..." you murmur quietly from under the hood. "If you want money I can get you my savings and everything from my job's safe...I don't have much but-".

The gun digs hard into your skull again and you shut up suddenly, not stupid enough to continue.

You're lead into some sort of building, trying to count the number of turns and doors you take, doing your best to form a mental picture of the layout. You can feel voices on either side of you and know multiple sets of eyes are on you as you pass by even though you can't see them. Eventually you are pushed down into a rigid chair and the hood is torn from your head.

Your eyes strain under the bright lights after being in the darkness for so long and you do your best to adjust to where you are. The lights are lurid and unflattering, adding a disorientating edge to the already stark space.

You peer across the room as you blink and get your bearings. You're in a warehouse or factory it seems, rusting machinery surrounds you and everything looks decayed and far beyond its best days. The air smells of rusty water and damp mould.

Soon your eyes find your captors, standing ten or so feet away. There's a group of them dressed in combat gear. They all have various weapons strapped to them – sat in holsters, slung over their shoulders, tucked carefully into their palms. Ammo clips are affixed to belts draped around their waists, bandoliers rest threateningly across their torsos. You shudder at the sight. There are more of them than you realised.

A muscular dark haired man stares back at you hungrily and you flinch instinctively at his gaze.

An older man in a dark suit and tie smiles kindly as he heads towards you, his professional attire a jarring contrast to the others in their almost-military like get up. He seems warmer than his 'colleagues' and you can tell he was a handsome man in his younger days.

You begin to panic, the reality of seeing your kidnappers in front of you with all of their weaponry suddenly triggering your flight or fight response. You squirm in your restraints, head jerking side to side as you hunt for anything or anyone that might help you. You feel exposed too, still wearing your tight evening dress from your date. Your body is on show more than you'd like – not that there's an optimum outfit for this type of scenario. You've also managed to lose a shoe somewhere on the walk from the car to here. You're vulnerable, weak. They all know that too.

"Please..." you plead weakly. "I don't know why I'm here".

"I know it must be scary, honey. But try not to panic. We aren't going to hurt you" says the suited man, his voice low and soothing.

"Speak for yourself" laughs the dark haired man, and the rest of the group laugh coldly with him.

The suited man shoots them a look and they all shut up instantly. He must be their leader, you understand. The 'boss' they mentioned.

"Like I said. Nobody is going to hurt you sweetie, as long as you behave yourself. Alright? Can you do that for me?" He coos at you as he comes closer.

You nod rapidly, your eyes widening. You have no interest in finding out what happens if you don't behave.

"Smart girl. But I should've guessed. Barnes isn't gonna pick himself a dummy is he?" He laughs.

Your eyes narrow at the mention of Bucky's name. "Barnes...?" you mumble as things finally start to fall into place.

"Uh huh" the man continues. "The man himself. We know you're well acquainted".

Your throat suddenly feels very dry. "I think y-you have the wrong girl" you stammer. "We aren't together, me and him."

The man smiles, his sweet tone never faltering.

"Well, are you sure about that sweetie? Maybe think about it again. We know he was outside of your apartment when we picked you up. We know he sent a huge order of balloons to your workplace. We know you spent the night with him at his house after some canoodling in a nightclub. We know he sends his men to follow you around town. And he's always in that cute little bakery of yours, isn't he? Seems like pretty damning evidence to me, sweetheart".

You internally admit that you see their logic.

You nearly vomit as you begin to understand just how long they have been following you. Bucky too. Did he know they were following him? How could his surveillance team miss them??

You choke out a sound which is a mix between a laugh and a sob.

"No no...you gotta believe me. We did spend the night together yes, but that's it. He follows me because he likes to torture me. He doesn't really want me. I'm just a... a plaything to him. He's been making my life a misery. He doesn't care, not really. Please...you've gotta believe me..." you're practically begging now.

The men all laugh like you've told a great joke and the suited one speaks again.

"Lovers' quarrel huh sweetie? We've all been there. But listen, you don't know him like we do - he's always been a hump and dump kinda guy. Been that way since he discovered his pecker. Trust me, he used to work for me back in the day and he was the same way then, too. He doesn't keep them around, but he keeps you around. That's no accident."

You almost laugh at the ridiculousness of this terrifying thug validating your relationship with Bucky. This was the last way you ever thought you'd receive reassurance about how Bucky feels about you.

"He used to work for you?" you ask quietly.

The man nods, a hint of a smile lurking on his solemn face.

"A long time ago. We taught him everything he knows. He'd be nothing if I didn't take him under my wing. Oh - where are my manners? My name is Alexander Pierce. This fine gentleman is Brock Rumlow" he gestures to the dark haired man who sneers back at you.

You instinctively know Rumlow was the one from the car with the gun pressed into your spine. You feel like a strong hatred for him like you've never felt for a stranger before. You just know in your gut that he's a bad man. A dangerous man.

That they all are.

Pierce introduces some of the other men who all share the same identical snarl on their faces. In your peripheral vision you see more figures at the side of the warehouse, weaving in and out of the doors. There are more of them here than you initially thought. The place is swarming with them.

You scan the room again and take in more of the layout. There are the big double doors you came through on one side, that's where the hub of activity seems to be with people coming and going. A lot of old machinery is dotted across the wide room, each in varying states of disrepair. There's a raised mezzanine level running across one side which seems to be accessed by ladders but it doesn't seem to go anywhere. And then finally in the far corner you spot a solitary door. Fire exit, maybe?

Pierce stands in front of you as your attention snaps back to him. He begins to talk, seemingly relishing your fear.

"You may know us as HYDRA. We knew Barnes as the Winter Soldier. He was the deadliest assassin on the east coast, maybe the country" continues Pierce. "He could put a bullet between anyone's eyes before they'd even noticed him. We recruited him when he was very young, he took to training like a duck to water. It was all very innate, you know the type. Very valuable to our little organisation, as you can imagine".

Pierce mimes a gun action with his hand, his mouth imitating blowing a gun barrel with his finger.

You swallow nervously as you listen. HYDRA rings a bell, you've heard of them – maybe seen a headline or two - knew they were bad men involved with organised crime and terrorist activity, but you couldn't recall much else. You knew Bucky was capable of awful things, and you knew deep down he would've killed somewhere along the way, but hearing it like this from Pierce chilled you to the bone. Bucky was scary. You cringed thinking about all the times you'd berated or challenged him. How lucky you'd been to not push him too far...

"But being just a hitman wasn't enough for him" Pierce continued. "So he broke away from us and started his own organisation, using everything he learned from his time here. Teamed up with some old military buddies of his and built themselves from the ground up, using all the connections and knowledge he learned from us".

Steve and Sam.

"They took out nearly 80% of our numbers after they surprised us one evening, an evening not unlike this one actually. A total massacre. Barnes was like a terminator that night, sweetie, I have never seen anything like it. He just kept coming. Kept mowing people down. The few who managed to survive still have nightmares about him. And now he's on top, and he's been hunting the rest of us ever since..." smiled Pierce forlornly.

"And now he's mostly legit, filing his taxes and all that boring civilian stuff. He's still terrorising the city, but in a different way. We've been trying to find a weakness of his for years but nothing ever came up. Until now that is..." he explained, grinning at you devilishly.

You shrink slightly in your chair. "Weakness...?" you ask in a small voice.

"That's where you come in, sweetheart. You're our bait. You're going to help lure Barnes out here and we are finally going to take care of him, once and for all - and then we can get back on top where we belong".

You begin to panic, eyes widening as you shake your head. You feel sick thinking about Bucky coming out here, as desperate as you also are for him to save you. There are just so many of them. He and his men would be wiped out.

"You don't understand...." you whimper. "It's like I said. We aren't an item. This evening I called him a sociopath and threatened to rat him out to the feds. He...he isn't coming to help me if I ask".

The group laugh, amused by your story. Pierce grins from ear to ear as he leans towards you, pulling up another chair and sitting opposite you.

"If that's true and he doesn't come - no big deal, we'll just shoot you any way sweetheart. No skin off our noses. Annoying to waste a night, but we'll just regroup and come up with something else. Get him some other time. Besides, the boys here will enjoy taking their time with you".

The room echoes with the gang's skin-crawling laughter and you gasp, squeezing your eyes shut as fear grips you and sits on your chest like a boulder.

"And...and if he does come?" you manage to croak out. "What happens to me after...well...after you've dealt with him?"

Pierce grins and the other men titter behind him.

"Well, we haven't decided yet, honey. But if you're good, maybe we'll keep you around. We could use a feminine presence around the place. And we can help you get over your boyfriend".

You don't want to think about what that might entail. It seems whatever happens tonight, this doesn't end well for you.

You're not naïve. You know Bucky isn't going to risk his life, or the lives of his friends and men, to come save the person who screamed at him just a couple of hours before. A woman he'd fucked once when you'd drunkenly stumbled around his nightclub. There'd be no sentimentality solely because she used to package up his doughnuts.

You were on your own.

You had to save yourself.

Pierce smiles as he holds up your phone, wriggling it in his hand.

"Let's drop lover boy a line, shall we?" he tells you ominously.

#mob bucky barnes #mob bucky x reader #bucky barnes #mob bucky au #mob bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #sweet and sour fic

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presidenthades · 4 months

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Once again, I am doing a series of my behind-the-scenes thoughts for The Golds while I do light edits for formatting, typos, and continuity. Here’s Chapter 6!

For this chapter’s title, I chose to reference the Stranger because of the fear for Jace’s life throughout the chapter. But there are no lyrics for the Stranger in “The Song of the Seven” because, as Sam Tarly says in ASOIAF, “no one sings of the Stranger.” Hence the placeholder: (The Stranger has no songs). And, at the end of the chapter, Jace tells Aegon that she wants no more songs.

Like Chapter 3, this chapter has no scene breaks since it is essentially one long scene during one day. In Chapter 3, there’s a mystery while Jace is trying to figure out what Aegon has been up to, then in Chapter 4 we find out the truth. Here it’s reversed: we already know from Chapter 5 what happened to Jace, but now we’re following Aegon as he tries to figure out where she is.

The chapter starts with Aegon having a normal morning. We see he’s developed the habit of helping his wife dress, and his knowledge of her gown, shoes, and hairpin is useful in his investigation later.

The irony of Aegon and Jace’s last dialogue before they separate! Turns out it’s not Aegon we have to worry about missing the lunch meeting 😢.

Aegon is of the opinion there’s nothing wrong with a little brawl between boys (he and Aemond still brawl on occasion). TBH he probably would’ve kept moving if he didn’t know any of the boys, but because he knows Ronnel, he intervenes. Also, since Aegon pays Gyles, Gyles and Ronnel are part of Aegon’s household (although Gyles makes pies for pretty much everyone who asks), so there’s some of that feudal responsibility where a lord takes care of his people.

Ronnel is basically the new kid at school, and the other servant boys don’t like him because they perceive favoritism from Aegon (which there is). I’m sure the castle staff have some kind of hierarchy that factors in things like tenure, and suddenly Ronnel and his dad show up going “milord Aegon” in what the others deem an overly familiar way. Gyles’s pies are very in demand among other highborns at the castle, which means Gyles’s standing quickly rises (and Ronnel by proxy), so the boys are envious of Ronnel’s good fortune. And most of the servants are from the Crownlands, so the boys are quick to pick on Ronnel’s Vale background.

Gyles is around 30 (Aegon is 18) and from a very different background, so it would be difficult for them to be true friends in a society that places so much emphasis on class and wealth. But they’re at least friendly because they’ve known each other for so long, and Aegon has been thinking a lot more about fatherhood. Gyles is one of the few men he personally knows who seems to have a healthy relationship with his son, so I feel like Aegon has asked Gyles a few questions about fatherhood prior to this chat in Chapter 6. The convo about Gyles’s wife foreshadows some of the issues Jace wrestles with in the coming chapters (although she has a much happier resolution), and it’s definitely on Aegon’s mind while he helps her through the aftermath.

Aegon’s little detective business just kind of happened. Probably started with one of the former captives at the warehouse asking for help related to the Tyroshi, and it snowballed from there as word spread around the city that “hey, if you have a problem, Prince Aegon might help you out.” Of course Aegon would prefer not to get the boring problems (I keep imagining BBC’s Sherlock only taking interesting cases), but he puts up with them because the smallfolk are very enthusiastic with their gratitude—and Jace likes it when he helps people, which is probably the bigger incentive.

The innkeeper disapproving of his daughter’s elopement is supposed to parallel Daemon disapproving of Jace’s elopement, so Aegon is inclined to sympathize with the young couple instead of the father (again, the theme of smallfolk and highborns being essentially the same, just with more or less money). AND the daughter is pregnant, so Aegon is envisioning what he and Jace would want in that scenario. Also, Aegon specifically buys a goat as a wedding present because it’s just about one of the most useful things a peasant could have. The goat is relatively inexpensive to maintain and feed, and it provides milk and some wool. And it can be marked with ownership, so it’s harder for a jealous neighbor to steal than a sack of coins. (This is my amateur understanding of goats, I know very little about goat husbandry.)

I’m probably going to write a chapter from Liane’s POV in my smallfolk anthology. She’s a very smart girl who was born into poverty, can’t read (hence the X she signs on the contract) but has a good head for business. For a poor prostitute in this society, the most common career paths are either a) keep being a prostitute forever, b) repent and join the Faith as a septa, or c) become a brothel owner. Liane has been working on option C for a while, and she sees the opportunity to buy the building she works in when Aegon shows no interest in the Garden. He also doesn’t take a cut of their earnings, so she’s able to save up faster the next few months. I like to think that because she’s worked side by side with the other girls so long, she’ll be a good manager to them rather than let the authority go to her head. And the influx of money that Aegon sends them after they help Jace significantly improves living conditions, to the point that Liane might even be able to change it from a brothel to a different establishment.

But the most important point of the scene: Aegon sows good karma by selling the Garden to Liane for dirt cheap (1 groat = 4 pennies), and it pays dividends that very day when Jace needs help.

Rhaenyra mentions in the Handbook that Luce had quite a few childhood fears, including storms, which she still secretly has. I gave this fear to Luce because I was thinking about the canonical Storm’s End chase scene and how that would be even more harrowing with a fear of storms. Now I also realize there’s some symbolism because Cassandra Baratheon is one of the Four Storms ⛈️.

In Chapter 4, Aegon is quick to distract himself when he starts thinking about the baby and being a father. Here, he purposefully lingers on thoughts about fatherhood as he observes Daemon interacting with Alyssa; Aegon is making progress coming to terms with being a father.

Sorry not sorry but I love the imagery of short Lucera wearing Aemond’s big coat 🥰. She’s soaked after flying on Arrax in the rain, and he probably makes some snarky comments about how unkempt she looks while he wraps the coat around her. (Meanwhile Rhaenys is off to the side like “OK ignore me, I’m just an old lady, thanks.”)

There is some irony that Aegon sneaks out alone to the city all the time and deliberately gets in trouble but is always fine, while the one time Jace leaves the castle during her pregnancy, the worst happens.

Aemond thinks Aegon is being panicked and reckless (which he is), but Aemond follows him anyway because a) that’s his brother even if he’s kind of a dumbass sometimes and b) Aemond knows he’s the only person who can keep up with Aegon right now 🥲.

Bethany is in a heckload of pain right now, and it would be her right to demand a maester’s attention before her own wounds worsen/get infected, but she cares about Floris so she makes sure Floris isn’t alone at the end 😢.

Aegon’s threat to feed the madam’s brother to Sunfyre and make her watch is indeed a reference to a certain canon event… 👀

Aegon has definitely done his homework on the Tyroshi since he spent a while trying to catch him. I might flesh out the guy’s backstory in a future fic, but I imagine him to be from one of Tyrosh’s ruling families (the archon is chosen from a conclave of the richest families in Tyrosh). I had to make up a name based on the naming patterns of other Tyroshi characters GRRM created.

Throughout this chapter, Aemond serves as the voice of reason and is able to quickly refute many of Aegon’s arguments because he knows how Aegon thinks. Admittedly, Aemond would act a lot like Aegon right now if Luce were the one in trouble—but then Aegon would be the one knocking sense into Aemond into that scenario. The brothers are more similar than they like to admit.

Bethany is very angry at Elinor, understandably so. Bethany did her duty and came to Jace’s defense, and she almost died for it—plus she’s aware that her face is never going to look the same again. Meanwhile Elinor abandoned their mistress and did absolutely nothing to help anybody, and she’s perfectly fine (for now). I don’t think Elinor was thinking at all about her crush on Aegon at the time, but Bethany really wants to make her words hurt and ensure that Elinor doesn’t come away completely unscathed. Definitely not friends anymore.

As I’ve said before, book!Aegon has excellent zingers, and TGC says Aegon has an eye for people’s weak spots. Here, Aegon deliberately says one of the most hurtful things he could possibly say to a girl who likes him: “you’re worse than a dog.” 💀 (I can’t blame him though.)

Despite the circumstances, Westerosi values are pretty engrained into Aegon, so he feels like he can’t lay hands on a highborn girl like Elinor, whereas he wouldn’t hesitate to beat a man into a pulp. So he hands (pun not intended) Elinor to Rhaenyra, because the optics of a mother/another woman punishing Elinor are much less bad, and he’s confident Rhaenyra will make it hurt. (And he forces Elinor to personally tell Rhaenyra what she did. Oof!)

Book!Aegon is capable of immense cruelty, especially after he’s been wronged (I’m hoping we see that in S2). I wanted to channel that here when he punishes Edwyn Pyle. First he unofficially puts Edwyn on trial, with Aegon as judge and jury, and makes Edwyn sweat as he confesses everything he did wrong. Of course Aegon deems him guilty, and part of him would like to kill Edwyn personally. But Aegon also thinks the other guards need to be punished for blindly obeying orders (we can argue whether this is fair to the guards, but Aegon doesn’t care about being fair right now), so he includes them in Edwyn’s punishment. I was inspired by the Roman practice of decimation, where if an entire group of soldiers (usually groups of 10) needs to be punished, one of them is randomly selected and the others beat him to death. Aegon makes the other guards take turns beating Edwyn so they never forget their failure (and if they mess up again, next time it might be them being beaten to death), and it adds extra burn to Edwyn’s death because he’s being beaten by the very men he was ordering around. (And yes, Edwyn does end up dying after 12 hours of this.)

Although I just said Aegon is capable of immense cruelty, he is arguably “nicer” than Aemond 😅. In F&B, Aegon shows mercy to Gaemon Palehair and agrees to knight Trystane Truefyre before execution, neither of which he needed to do. Compare to Aemond, who slaughters all of House Strong including the toddlers and burns tf out of the Riverlands 😐. Neither of them is really nice though, let’s be real.

A younger Daemon would’ve been out searching on the streets too, but he is sadly no longer a young man. Instead he’s been playing spymaster at the Red Keep, and it pays off. The old man who has info about the hay wagon goes to a brothel in Mysaria’s network, and she sends word to Daemon. The show has made Mysaria a populist, so I think she approves of Jace’s attempts to help the people of KL. And I’m sure Mysaria has heard about Aegon’s detective services, so overall she’s inclined to help find Jace.

A wagon, two mules, and pile of good hay are worth way more than a little rowboat, hence the old man’s eagerness to trade and disinclination to ask too many questions.

Kites have been used in warfare for many centuries. When you have dragonriders, you need to be able to signal them somehow, and I feel like kites would be a pretty good solution for that. Now that there are so many adult dragonriders in KL, someone (probably Corlys or Daemon) suggested incorporating the kite system for emergencies such as this. The gold cloaks were notably incompetent during Chapter 4, but I think the Targs have whipped them back into shape during the last few months.

Luce is honestly not in much danger at all on dragonback, with only one “enemy” on the ground. But Aemond worries anyway 😛. (Aegon’s been in a state all day, some of it probably wore off on Aemond.)

When Aegon asks “where is she,” the Tyroshi realizes they haven’t found Jace. He knows there’s no way he’s escaping now, so he decides to drag out Aegon’s torment as much as he can before he’s inevitably executed.

Aemond reacts very strongly to Aegon digging into the Tyroshi’s mutilated eye because…uh…well, the eye thing 👁️👄⚫️. Aemond has zero sympathy for the guy but he’s probably getting some secondhand pain watching it happen.

I actually do think Jace saw Arrax while Luce was flying out, but she had no way of signaling Arrax, and it was too dark/high for Luce to spot Jace in the trees 🙁. Jace probably thought about trying to follow Arrax, but she had no idea when/where Arrax would land (and a dragon is much faster than her on foot), so she continued onward to the city.

Contrary to common belief, House Hightower’s sigil colors do NOT include green! It’s a white tower with orange flames on a gray field. That’s why Alicent’s necklace is white gold and amber. I imagine it as a necklace from when she was a girl (long before her green era), and she gave it to Jace shortly after the elopement.

The guards who refused to listen to Liane are probably due for some very arduous training drills once the Targs have the bandwidth to pay attention to them 😬.

The Liane chapter I mentioned above will probably cover in more detail what happens when Jace shows up at the Garden. I imagine that once the girls realize Jace is in fact the missing princess, they kick out all their customers so they can focus on her.

Jace has a big problem with people touching her in the next chapter, but right now she’s still in shock, so she lets one of the girls comb her hair. The Garden girls have never interacted with anyone as high society as Jace before, but they’re offering the best hospitality they can: dragging out a clean mattress and blankets, building the fire as hot as they can (firewood ain’t free), giving her clothes (they don’t have much that’ll fit a heavily pregnant woman but they try), scrubbing Jace’s muddy shift.

Jace being soundly refused help from the other shopkeepers shocks and hurts her a lot. She’s spent her entire life being recognized instantly because she’s a princess. But the smallfolk have only ever seen her from a distance, if at all, and she would’ve been dressed in royal finery, like during her wedding day. Now she’s only wearing her shift and one shoe, and her hair (which is black instead of a distinctive Valyrian silver) is a mess. Usually the only people who walk around in public in their smallclothes are whores, so the shopkeepers take one look at her and assume she’s a whore. Meanwhile the girls at the Garden are at the bottom of society, so they know what it’s like to need help but be scorned by everyone else. They don’t believe Jace’s identity at first, but she’s a pregnant woman in desperate need of help, so they let her inside because they’ve been in similar straits before.

This is a turning point in Aegon’s journey to fatherhood. His concern most of the day was about Jace, but when he feels Cheeseball move for the first time, it suddenly strikes him that the baby is not just an extension of Jace, as he’s been thinking so far. This is the moment when Aegon realizes he loves the baby because it’s his child, not just because it’s part of Jace.

Luce has been away for six months, but she grew up with Jace. She immediately clocks that Jace isn’t going to be entirely OK. Aegon also knows this deep down, but he’s desperately hoping for the best so he’s acting like it’s only a physical thing.

Rhaenyra picked a very poetic punishment for Elinor. Elinor loses her dominant hand, which she used to push Jace, but it’s also the hand that made her excel as a LIW because many of Elinor’s talents, like hairstyling, lay in the dexterous use of her hands. But even if Elinor were ever welcome at court again, she wouldn’t be able to reclaim a similar position. The loss of her hand also takes down her marriageability a lot, if the dishonor weren’t enough. I also imagine Aunt Elinda had a lot to say to Elinor 😬.

Alicent doesn’t know how to comfort Aegon (and he probably doesn’t want it right now), so she defaults into “hostess” mode (the queen is basically hostess of the entire castle/court) by making sure he and Jace have their physical needs taken care of.

Jace spent many hours alone in the woods, so she had a lot of time to think about what happened that day. She’s already begun internalizing her guilt about her ladies’ deaths, and how her pregnancy led to them being in the Sept. She feels like she shouldn’t celebrate the baby when her ladies/friends have died because of it. And the Tyroshi talked about how people sing about Jace and Aegon, hence Jace’s temporary aversion to songs. So Aegon’s first attempt at helping her back to “normalcy” fails—but as we see in future chapters, he figures out another way.

#my writing #meta #house of the dragon meta #hotd meta #fanfic meta #aegon ii targaryen #female jacaerys velaryon #the golds

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heavenforblog1111 · 14 days

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Low Life is a song by the American rapper Future featuring The Weeknd released on 1st March 2016 as the lead single from Future's 4th studio album 'Evol'. Song Review and Meaning Future and The Weeknd might come off as different personalities. However, they are both more or less the same when it comes to their lifestyle. In the song, both artists talk about their hedonistic lifestyle which includes dr*gs, sex, squandering lavish amounts of money. They have no remorse behind the selfish actions they take which can hurt others and have found some sort of solace in living the 'low life'. The term 'low life' is used as it describes their immoral practices. It is not referring to their wealth status as we know that they have plenty. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K_9tX4eHztY Personally, I am fond of beats and instrumentals in Future as well as The Weeknd's songs. This song definitely lived up to my expectations. The background instrumentals are absolute fire. In terms of rhythm I feel like it is one of the best songs I've come across. I like the music video as well. The setting of the music video is mostly in a dark warehouse with a little bit of lighting where Future and The Weeknd rap about their hedonistic lifestyle in the presence of a few chicks that will keep the attention of the male audience. We also see them driving around a desert area with a little bit of construction in a custom vehicle which is armed with a gun in front. I really like the song. Let me know what you guys think of the song.

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angelholme · 1 year

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V, V, V — Day 5 : Charm

So this might get posted a little late, due to being distracted, but I am writing it on the fifth.

There are a lot of worlds in the world of fiction — Middle Earth, Narnia, Terabithia and so on — and there are also a great deal of fictional versions of our world.

Versions of our world where some things are different — World War Two didn’t happen, World War Two was won by The Nazis, JFK didn’t die, Hiroshima didn’t happen, the earth was knocked off its axis and is now spinning through the galaxy………..

Well — you get the idea.

However the fictional version of our world I seem to spend most time in is the world of Harry Potter. A world created by a woman who, at the time, was living on benefits, and in creating the world and publishing the first book took her from that to a multi-millionaire and beyond.

But then…….. well you probably know all about that and I have no real desire to get into any of it here, other than to say I tend not to write her name any more, unless it is absolutely necessary (I tend to refer to her as “the author” or “the creator of the world”) and to say that there was a quote from “Warehouse 13” that aptly describes the situation. And oddly enough it is a quote said by the same actor who talked about “smelly books” in Buffy (although he was playing a different character obviously).

The thing is — while the creator of the world of Harry Potter has become……… well a whacked out nutjob who I really have no respect for, and who, quite frankly, should fuck off and enjoy her wealth without feeling that she should talk about shit she doesn’t understand anything about, the world she created has continued to flourish and grow, cared for by the loving hands of people who actually appear to care, love and understand the original message that she put into it.

It is a world of magic, of charms, hexes, jinxes and curses. It is a world of dark versus light, of good versus evil.

And the best part of the world of Harry Potter — at least for me — is the open ended nature of it. Which, okay, might be because there are parts of it that are not written all that……… strongly, but also because the characters are written with open ended motivations.

Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, Cornelius Fudge, Dolores Umbridge, Bellatrix Lestrange, Barty Crouch Jr, Gilderoy Lockhart — they are all characters who have dubious motivations for what they do. And I know that — for people who understand the stories — it might seem odd to group all these people together into a single group, but they all have both dark and (surprisingly in some cases) light sides to their characters. Light, in the sense, that they have character traits you would associate with “good guys” as opposed to “bad guys”

But I am not going to go into a big, in depth character study of all the Potter characters, because that would not be the point of this. It’s supposed to be about me, not about Bellatrix and Lockhart (which, by the way, would be an excellent name for a Jewellers).

The point is that I like the world of Potter because despite being a children’s story, it is morally grey. (Grey — e because it is English. Gray — a, because it is American). And while I am generally someone who likes moral certainty in their stories, I like worlds where you can tell morally grey stories.

Because there is nothing more fun than taking a character who is beloved and making them truly evil, or taking a character who is truly evil, and making them beloved.

It is what the term “chaotic good” is designed for — if I can’t make Dolores Umbridge a hero who saves the life of Hermione and Harry, then what is the point of writing a story? And if I can’t have Hermione torturing Luna (for reasons other than foreplay) then again — why bother putting pen to paper?

#v v v #may myself and i #day 5 #charm #harry potter

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a-gal-with-taste · 2 years

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Of Opposites

Original Request

Warnings: SFW but potentially triggering. Violence, near-death experience (drowning) implied panic-attack/claustrophobia, disorientation, medical usage/needles mentioned

(Pre-Slash) Silco X GN!Reader

Wordcount: 3.3K

Note: Requested anonymously, this is probably my favorite work yet. I do honestly apologize for the wait for Timer (Pt 3), but I loved this concept so much that it needed it's own full day of recognition. Hope you enjoy as much as I did.

Someone out there would surely congratulate you.

Might even earn you a medal, or at least a free, one-way ticket to Topside so the Piltover Council could shake your hand in-person. Bless you for a job well done, a true thank you at your non-actions sparing them from the bane of their existance.

You shouldn't be joking, not when the last pocket of air you have is brushing dangerously against your chin, splashing the disgusting water up to your lips even as you tilt your head back to suck in as much air left as possible. And certainly not when your boss has still yet to resurface.

But your racing, panicking mind just can't seem to shake the idea of it, a part of you musing coldly, clinically at the idea of just... letting it happen.

Letting the Eye of Zaun simply... stay down in this flooded basement.

Letting Silco... drown.

You suspect the Firelights, when the building above the two of you shook, and the glass window burst open with the strain of the dark water it peered out into. Sevika had left to grab the carriage for a ride back to base, leaving you and Silco alone in the basement of the warehouse. A bit awkward, for you at least, as you were still relatively fresh in his gang, and he had to made note of it.

"Rookie still, aren't you?" You were wise enough to not jump at the sudden question as he held out a fresh-clipped cigar, patiently waiting without look at you. You didn't smoke yourself, but the first tip you'd been given was to always have a light on you, and soon the man was pulling a small, shallow drag into his mouth. "You're still quiet. Keep to yourself, stick to the sidelines. Unless you're just being pitifully shy."

The mild mock in his tone was not missed, but you nodded casually, giving a small shrug, "Seems like the best course to survive, boss. Just keep my head down and do my job."

"Huh." The sound he makes after exhaling a mouthful of smoke is unimpressed. His steps are slow, deliberate and yet still carefree. The confidence in his smooth swagger is immeasurable, and yet totally unsurprising. "That's a flimsy answer. You could do that anywhere in the world, yet you come to the lowest of low, the darkest depths... the place where monsters are born, and get to play freely." He turns back to you, and even though he's now several feet away, you can feel the intimidation as if he were breathing the dark smoke directly into your face as he spoke. "So. Why did you pick to work here?"

"... You seemed like the best option." A brow raises; waiting for you to continue. "I mean... you've got a plan, other than the typical 'don't die' most fissure-folk have around here-" "Zaunites." Your confused blink is met with a small sigh and shake of his head, as Silco shortly comments, "You're new still... fissure-folk is to one day be a term of the past, in our nation of Zaun. The least you could do is show some confidence in what we'll be building, in refraining from referring to our brothers and sisters in Topsider terms."

He looks unimpressed as you answer him with a show blink, "What.... 'we'll' build, sir...?" The look only deepens. "Yes. As my subordinate, you'll have some impact and handling in the goals of my empire... don't flatter or delude yourself by thinking you'll be directly linked into the progress." The murmured apology escapes your lips as you glance away from that piercing red-eye, face burning slightly at your misunderstanding.

Had this been anyone else, you would've promptly told him to piss-off, storm back up to groundfloor and head home for the night.

But you had had a front-row seat to what he'd done to others for even smaller insults, so you wisely kept yourself quiet as the man sighed again, bringing the cigar back to his mouth for another inhale after tapping out the ashes. "... Deckard. You heard the story?" One of the first, of course. Veterans in the gang seemed to fall over each other in the effort to be the first to tell it, equal parts smug at watching your face pale with all the details, and equally unnerved by the story they were telling.

"Tell me." You let out a silent breath at the cool order, tapping fingers quietly along the seams of your pants-pockets. "Deckard was... an old lacky of yours, from before you got to the top. Talked big, got into trouble, that kind of thing..."

"They spared you the gory details?"

Your mouth growing dry, you give a hesitant nod. He smiles without his teeth, and the red-eye seems to glow brighter. He answers correctly for you. "No. They didn't."

"He was already a monster; there isn't one alive who isn't." The exhale slips out as soon as he turns his gaze away, once more walking with measured steps over towards the window, outlooks into the darkness of open-water. There is no storm this night but the basement lights give a trembling flicker every few moments, signs of disuse in one of these older, lessused warehouses. "I simply coaxed it out. Honed it, harnessed it, let him truly come to know himself as what truly he was, and what was created to be, on the inside... a monster."

Another slow drag, and smoke smudges the window before him as he exhales. "And it ate him alive. But it impressed me, the eagerness, the drive... the will one has, to let their inner-demon consume them. Light every nerve with the will to fight, thrash and battle against that part of you that remains human... the part of you that overshadows what you truly are."

You should keep your mouth shut. You open it anyways, quiet but might as well be shouting with how loud your voice is in this quiet room, "But... he still died." There's a scoff, as if it was an obvious observation, which it was. "He died long before Vander killed him, and that was his choice. What impressed me isn't that he died a monster, no... he allowed a part of him to die in order to become one."

Silco turned, and the shadows of the room outlined his inperturbable face, the eye of darkness and hellfire glowing in the dark as the lights flicker again from above you. "Sevika did the same, accepting the possibility of death to save me. She's now my second. Jinx did the same, and is now stronger than ever because of it."

Slow, slow steps. Until you're merely a foot away from the man, and his bored gaze remains on your eyes as he pulls another mouthful in, slim and scarred cheek puffing out with his fill of smoke. It curls and coils through the air to your face as he muses, faint dark-clouds still dripping on his teeth and tongue, "Those are the three that impressed me. And they rose higher than ever for it."

"Except Deckard," You point out, managing not to cough or flinch from the face-full of smoke. Silco merely smiles again, without teeth, and still manages to look like a shark. "Two out of three isn't so terrible."

His eyes spoke the rest, looking upon you with such disregard, such boredom. Your method of survival, to follow the lead of the deadliest and most dangerous, was not a gamble he admired. No, Silco looked at you like he would all the rest beneath him, unless you gave him something to work with.

Unless you proved willing to sacrifice something for him, those eyes would only ever look through you with complete, utter disregard as if you were any other lacky. Which, because you were, the thought shouldn't sting as much as it did. And yet, the sting persisted.

Seemingly done with the conversation, he turned on a heel, glancing back to the side as he brought the cigar back to his mouth for another inhale, and you opened your mouth to, probably stupidly, ask that he not blow it in your eyes this time.

You never got the chance. The two of you felt the the thud, before hearing the distant boom and the cigar went crashing to the ground as a seafoam eye widened, bracing his legs under the sudden shaking of the building. You were not so lucky, losing your balance and stumbling back steps until you slammed beside the closed metal-doorway. A large crackling sound cut through the room, lights faltering entirely for several, painfully long beats, the only light being the dying embers of Silco's abandoned smoke on the ground.

When they sputtered back on, Silco had taken a knee, and immediately fixed his gaze on you with gritted teeth, as if it were somehow your fault. Any assurances from you that it wasn't, or any barked orders from him, died as soon as the heart-stopping crackle in the air.

The crackle of breaking glass.

Silco didn't even manage to turn in time, but you lunged forward anyway in an attempt to do something, anything, as the window behind him shattered open, and sent the dark waves of the harbor flooding into the basement room.

As one can imagine, things became complicated, and the world moved very, very fast after that.

You felt your bosses body slam into you from the force of the roaring water, and by the time you had both righted already-soaked bodies, you needed to be swimming. Lights faltered for longer than a few seconds, and stayed for only heartbeats, discombobulating as you moved in tandem, angling up to the uppermost corner of the room with your twin panting swallowing and sucking in as much air as possible.

Obviously, with the water rushing in too-fast and too-harsh, swimming out via the dismantled window was no good idea, as you'd only succeed in tiring yourselves out with swimming against the current. The sole exit before the break, the door, was your only solution, and Silco realized that too. In the split-second cuts of darkness and light, you felt leather and fabric being abandoned as he tore his now heavy coat from his shoulders, and a final, haggard intake of breath before you were alone, bobbing in the corner of the room while you forced your racing chest to be still, taking your time filling your lungs.

The water now up to your chest, with your hair brushing the ceiling top, you were quick to realize that single breath the crimelord had taken was simply not going to be enough. And with the door only being able to open inward to the basement, he would certainly be receiving a pummeling from the ruthless current of the flood, trying to open a door pressurized into remaining closed.

It would be a nearly hopeless effort, one that, you realized, he could be losing this very second.

Silco could die right here in this flooded room, while you waded and took slow, somehow measured breaths in order to calm your racing thoughts.

Silco could die.

And with that, you closed your eyes, took the deepest inhale you possibly could with water lapping greedily at your chin as they thieved at your air pocket, before diving under.

Light flashed, and you found him immediately, the current doing half the work for you as found yourself tossed beside him at the doorway. Again the lights flickered, and the pure, animalistic drive in every swing of his knife at the hinges of the door was, though not literally, breathtaking.

And horrid, sole-green eye stretched wide in pure apoplecticness, as if the fact that he was stuck in this situation was a personal, grave insult on his very being. Red streaked through the water where he'd mindlessly sliced too the hand he had braced against the door as he hacked at the single hedge that would free into the stairway, to air that he was so desperately running out of...

Because even in the cuts of black, you could see the slowing of bubbles. The way his wide-swings were beginning to grow sluggish, like wading through increasingly thicker and thicker mud.

He realized it too, because you saw that fury, that hunger for survival, begin to show traces of true, honest to the gods, terror.

Seeing his mouth open, bubbles escaping into the water with his unheard, instinctive roar, and you didn't think.

You just acted, surging forward to grasp his chin, nails biting harsh into his cheek as you drew him forward to firmly slam your open-wide mouth into his.

You knew, in that exact instant, that you surely just signed your death-warrent.

The raw pain of the knife, now turned on you in what he surely thought of as an attack, sliced across your cheek as a fist curled instantly onto your throat. But you didn't dare pull back or allow him to shove away, nails digging into his chin and surely leaving bruises as you pushed your air into his mouth, forcing as much as you could flowing through the salty water and into his lungs.

Granted a split-second of light, you ignored the flash in the seafoam and red an inch from your own gaze, hand reaching out, wrapping a steel-muscled hand around the loosening grip on the knife, raised your joined grip, and struck hard on the hedge to your freedom.

An unheard thud in the water, but you both felt the ripple of the force race up your interlocked grip, and the feel of the door faintly jerk, weakened from the current water battering against it with your two forms.

Another raise, this one strengthened as life begins to return to him with the sweet air you forced into his mouth, had the door jerking again.

Blackness started to ebb at your vision between the light, and this time the one frantic, you brought the grip of the knife between you up, and crashing against that one damn joint keeping you from freedom, from life...

Lungs were on fire now, a fire that raced through your body with every downward motion of the knife you jammed into that juncture. His grip had strengthened, given life with the one you were giving, and for a moment, you really, really hoped this bid had worked.

Then your palm gripped his chin even tighter, hand releasing the knife he had a secure grip on to grab his shirt-lapel, before you forcibly shut his mouth closed as you pulled your airless-mouth off of his.

Silco's free hand released your throat, now gripped at your shirt-collar as static started entering through the total-silence of water. Water raced down into your lungs, and only a small, handful of bubbles appeared in your vision before your body became spasmodic as your lungs filled with the harbor.

A wild jerk of your body as you saw darkness truly leech your vision, eyes rolling back as legs uselessly jolted out. Strands of red cut during the instances of light from the slice along your cheek, the last true color you knew not to be a figment of your drowning mind, before colorful spots began dancing in front of your eyes. Even in the dying light around you, you kept your grip tight on Silco's collar, a lifeline as you feel life draining...

A flash, cutting though your dying mind and dragging out a memory, and you feel a parents soft touch.

thunk

Another, a warm summer's night as you gazed over the roofs and the bridge to a city of brightness and hope, still with dreams in your head

thunk

Flash; drunken laughter and warm bitters dripping down your throat, filling your body with the warmth of alcohol.

Thunk

Music. Loud, heavy and body-pumping, the green icon of an eye embedded in your memory as you cut through a crowd-

THUD

The last thing you are aware of, in the split-second of lights around you before your eyes roll back, and your clawed fingers begin to loosen and drag down from your death-grip on fabric, is seafoam and a haunting, glaring fiery red cutting into you from the depths of a dark you believe you won't be freed from...

The last sensation you feel, before you are truly lost, is the feel of a door giving into to the pressure, and coming crashing down.

"Story of opposites... I truly thought I fully appreciated what that meant a long, long time ago."

Awareness. Hell has a strange sense of humor, for the first thing your bleary eyes come to, is your boss, standing over you with a lighter and no cigar.

It's a rather strange image of Silco.

The seafoam and red remained locked on you as he mindlessly flicks the lighter wheel. He swallows, subtly; the dark bruises in the shape of your fingers along his jaw still ripple with the faint reaction.

"The need to fight. The thing lighting your senses with the urge of survival... I never could figure out the name for it. Never... not until I saw it face to face..."

If this is hell, it's very comfortable. The surface beneath you would be hard, if not for a soft cover over it, and another one over your body. The underworld of mortality isn't the boiling you thought it would be, but certainly warmer than the waters you had died in.

"Not until I saw it in your face." The lighter clicks on, and the overlord of the undercity finally managed to pull his gaze from yours, watching the flame dance on the tip of the lighter. "... Fire. That light in your eye, that demand, the rage and the madness in a fight for life, survival... all ignited. All howling. All-consuming... beautiful, really, in the death-defying way it glowed like magma in your eyes."

The gaze returns, and if you were able to move a single muscle in your body, you would've flinched at the intensity of his unyielding gaze.

"We will never have enough, will we?" He asks softly, a question only you and he could ever truly understand. For you, it will take time to answer, as you can barely hold your eyes open. Silco smiles, and this time, you see teeth. It's somehow less-sharp than those he previously gave you. "Fire in water... truly, of opposites. Thank you..." You blink, feeling a burst of shock under that cloak of numbness at the thought of Silco showing you any sight of gratefulness.

Your eyes falter as you feel the brush on your cheek. Eyes lightly closed, he runs a careful thumb over the slice he left behind on your skin, growing ever darker by the passing days as you recovered.

"Thank you..." Silco murmurs again, your eyes cracking open to see his thoughtful expression as he gazes down on you. Indecipherable now, but you imagine you would struggle to put a definition on the way he looks at you, even if you were at full awareness. "... thank you for showing me."

The thumb tracing over your new scar pulls away, and he glances at something just out of the corner of your vision, intangible in your current state. "Put them back under," He orders, quiet as if not to startle, before his eyes drop back to you. You're lost in the green and red again, numb to the prick of the sedative, infused with barely-traceable specks of purple, being carefully jabbed into your veins.

Your vision begins to melt into blacks, but the green and the glowing red stay locked onto you. Before, disinterest was the sole thing you saw in them, and now, as one of the last things your mind is aware of as you drift back into the void, you see emotions that you have no hope of reading right now.

"Oh. And before I forget..."

Eyes slip closed, the final half of his sentence growing distant, but words still smooth and unyielding on the attention it has on your hearing before you are again lost once more...

"Congradulations. You impressed me."

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whumpzone · 3 years

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Tomas and Rowe - Part 18

Masterpost

@sola-whumping @just-another-whumper @misspelledwitch @looptheloup @briars7 @black-polarf @zipadeedooda-drabbles @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @rosesareviolentlyread @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jazz-0307 @kestrelsparverius @whumpsy-daisies @whumpersworld @memoriesneverforget @sky-or-something-idfk @cupcakes-and-pain @frankieswhump @ihaventwritteninsolong @mybrokenlittletoy @kiretto-laorentze @morelikepainsley @lavmars @tears-and-lilies @whump-me-all-night-long @newbornwhumperfly @itaina-anta @whump-it @haro-whumps @simplygrimly @alex-ember @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @mnmlover2002 @jordanstrophe @princessofonward @xmonster-under-the-bed @as-a-matter-of-whump @5boys1house @crystalrainwing @starnight-whump @chifechi @unicornscotty @penny-for-your-whump @getyourwhumphere @likeit-or-whumpit @jasm0307 @lightdrinker @hurting-fictional-people @captainseconds @glamrockgregory

CW: recovering pet whumpee, environmental whump, references to an amputated finger, paranoia/hallucinations

As he turned to lock the final door behind him, Rowe could see that he had been in a warehouse, evidently a rarely-used one. A single floodlight was on, illuminating nothing but a bare wall and the road leading up to it. Rowe had been correct- it was night. The open air was a thousand blessings as he breathed it in. His eyes felt clean, he could stand up properly, he wasn’t wearing that fucking collar anymore.

The happiness was short-lived, but he let himself have it. He was free. He just had to get home, now.

Rowe would have panicked, at that moment, but instead his heart toughened, because Kasia hadn’t been able to break him down. He was missing a finger, and the throbbing pain made sure he wouldn’t forget in a hurry, but he was still there, still himself. His nightmares would probably take a new form, and he wondered if he’d ever be able to sleep alone again, but he was fine. He was a Pet. He was a person. Surviving was a skill of his.

He rested a hand on the wall, making sure he was hidden in shadow, and let himself take some of the weight off his scarred leg. Burnt, smashed, sewn up and burnt again. He would be limping, by the time he got home. But get home he would, and in some way, it was thanks to his leg. He had been sat on his bed, back when he couldn’t walk, looking for something to distract him from the feelings of anger and uselessness and what if he throws me out?

So he’d looked down and practised his reading. He remembered it perfectly. Tomas G…Grz…. something… 12 h-a-r-t… Hartland Road… your Pet… s-p-l-i-n-t…. bed rest for up to one week…

Rowe had read the address, and perhaps even then he’d known he might one day need it. It didn’t solve the problem of knowing whereHartland Road was, or whether he’d make it there without being stolen or beaten up or killed, but he had to try.

Kidnapped, he thought. You’d only say stolen for a piece of property.

The warehouse was evidently on the outskirts of town. Was it the right town? Rowe thought so, as he studied the lights shining down the road. Several of the shapes were familiar to him. The colourful string bulbs that were hung up along the shopping streets, the glow from the theatre on the hill, the dark spot where the graveyard sat. From his bedroom window he had to crane to get a good look, but he could see it well from the office. He ached to be back there. In the warmth and familiarity of it. Back with- Master? The word sounded strange now. Especially since- since Rowe felt like he understood him now. Understood his intentions.

He started to walk. Kasia’s jacket rested on his shoulders, and he couldn’t bear to put his arms in. The idea alone made him feel trapped. The thing smelt distinctly of the bastard, but Rowe knew it was preferable to the cold of a dead night. He found a main road soon enough, built up above the rest of the grassy flatland, so he gingerly climbed down the hill and walked alongside. He would be hidden from passing cars well enough, but his bare feet soon began to take the brunt of the choice of rough land over tarmac. Stones, sticks, was that roadkill, oh, god, all were littered through his journey which was only sparsely lit by the occasional road light. After a particularly sharp stone, or possibly even a discarded glass bottle, Rowe knew his foot was bleeding. He ground his teeth together. It wasn’t real if he couldn’t see it. And right now, he couldn’t see his own hand in front of him.

He kept his eyes on the lights from the town before him, slowly drawing closer.

He thought he heard footsteps behind him, running closer with horrifying speed. As they drew near he could hear Kasia screaming at him.

You think you can fucking get away from me? You think you locked that collar? You really think I won’t come back?

He kept his eyes fixed on the town. “It-it-it’s n-not real,” he whispered past the lump in his throat. He was trembling with fear. “It’s not real, I locked him up, I st-stopped him, it’s not real, it’s not.”

The paranoia wouldn’t leave him, though. Every passing car, though they were few and far between, made him jump and crouch down, hands clamped over his mouth. He couldn’t shake the fear that it was Kasia after him, out searching for the rotten escaped Pet. His leg burst with pain every time, making him whimper and cry when he tried to stand back up.

The sounds of footsteps gradually stopped, and Kasia’s voice faded, but Rowe could still feel his hands clawing at him. His back tingled with the overwhelming sensation that someone was behind him, creeping up and reaching out to grab-

Against his better judgement, he turned back. Darkness there, and nothing more. “Fuck, f-fuck, keep it together,” he muttered.

Just up ahead, he could see streetlamps. Proper ones, glowing a gentle orange. He went as far as he could along the grass, then climbed up, wetting his hands in the dew. He checked for cars, and seeing none, scrambled fully onto the road.

He realised he couldn’t run anymore- his leg would give out, or he wouldn’t be able to contain a howl of pain- so he limped as quickly as he could towards the next patch of shadow, over and over.

Eventually he came upon a sign: Welcome to….

It was half shadowed, but it was a map. He pushed himself up on his tip-toes, eyes scanning the jumble of letters and lines and symbols. Eventually he spotted it. Hartland Road. He traced the direction in his head, making sure it was committed to memory, although he knew he wouldn’t forget it even if someone tried to beat it out of him. And then, he started walking.

He couldn’t tell exactly what time it was, but he would have guessed around three or four in the morning. The pub, as he passed it, was quiet, although he still kept his distance, hugging the shadows.

He soon reached the base of the hill he knew he’d have to climb. As he started to ascend, he saw the Pet hospital in the distance. Oh god, would he have to go back there to get his finger treated? He pushed the question to the back of his mind. If he did, there wasn’t anything he could do.

A few cars drove by, as he walked. He wanted to duck into one of the smaller streets that branched off, but he had only memorised one route home, and he didn’t trust himself to improvise in the dark. So instead he squared his shoulders, stopped hunching, tried his best to look like a person walking home in his heavy jacket, not afraid, not prey. It didn’t feel quite right, but it was easier than he’d expected. And it worked- no cars stopped, no one seemed to give him a second glance.

He finally reached the street, the name lit up. Hartland Road. The sign was scuffed, like kids had popped the cap off their beers along its edge. It was fixed to the wall of a garden, weeds poking out through the bricks, a flyer from the council tied at eye-level to the neck of the streetlamp. Rowe took everything in as he walked. The bicycle clipped to a fence, the parked cars, the black bins left out for collection. Before, he never would have taken notice. None of it had mattered. But now, Rowe felt as if he had a new connection to the world around him. He could interact with it. He wasn’t leashed or under the watchful eye of an owner, he wasn’t crawling or blindfolded in the boot of a car. He was in pain, yes, but he was always in pain, so constantly that it hardly registered anymore. He was free.

Rowe didn’t recognise the house itself. The only times he’d ever left it, he’d been unconscious, or practically so.

But when he turned around, he saw the same view he’d had from his bedroom window every morning and night. He was home.

He remembered Kasia’s key, but it no longer fit into the front door. The lock must have been changed. Rowe hated that the alternative was to make a loud noise, at this hour, but perhaps that was the smarter way than simply slipping inside like- like Kasia. So he hesitantly pressed down on the doorbell, hitting his fist against the wood as well. He waited. He thought about how he’d never rung a doorbell before in his life.

Silence. Rowe wasn’t exactly surprised, but his heart still tightened. Suddenly the fresh air didn’t feel freeing, it felt exposed. He rang again, knocking harder, not giving up. Surely he would know it was urgent? Surely he would come down, and Rowe would get to see his face again?

Faintly, he heard the creaking of the stairs. “I-I-It’s me!” he said, hushed. “It’s me, I…”

His words died as the door slowly opened. Half a face, an eye framed by blond curls peered out, full of apprehension. In a heartbeat it landed on Rowe and widened, and the door flew open.

“Tomas,” Rowe said, loving how it felt to say his name, loving him, loving everything. “I’m back, I, I’m back, I’m back.”

Tomas raised a hand over his mouth, and for once he was the one shaking. “Oh my god… oh my god.”

And then he was reaching both arms out for Rowe with a sob. Rowe threw the horrible jacket to the ground and fell into him, wrapping his arms around his waist and holding on tight. He couldn’t have known whose knees failed first, but suddenly they had collapsed on the floor, clinging onto each other, not leaving a shred of space between as they both cried. Soaked in the orange light that pooled through the still-open front door.

#tomas and rowe #pet whump #whump fic #deconditioning #mine #my thoughts while writing this: i love my boy i love my boy i love my boy

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marvelmusing · 3 years

Text

HYDRA Hunter

Helmut Zemo x Reader

Part 1

You worked at SHIELD for your entire life, inspired by the likes of Peggy Carter and Captain America, wanting to do the right thing and protect people.

You worked hard, rising up through the ranks. Becoming a Colonel. Spending your time ensuring that you could help people.

Then SHIELD falls, along with HYDRA. And you find out that the organisation you’ve dedicated your life work to was not what you thought it was.

You spend the years after the fall of SHIELD finding old HYDRA bases and employees and ensuring they’re brought to justice.

This has caused you to bump into the Avengers quite often. Steve Rogers often asks for your help with intel.

You earn the quite the reputation as you track down a large number of old HYDRA operatives.

You’re soon known as the HYDRA Hunter. A name you aren’t too happy with but it seems to have stuck with you.

One day Steve asks you to help him and Sam with their search for Steve’s friend, Bucky Barnes. The former Winter Soldier. You agree to help them.

Although, now that you’re occupied by your search for Bucky you don’t notice there’s another person hunting HYDRA’s people.

You don’t notice when Vasily Karpov, the Winter Soldier’s handler, is found dead.

You don’t notice that a certain red notebook has been stolen.

Then Vienna happens.

And the entire world has joined in with your search for Bucky Barnes.

And that grainy photograph is plastered across every newspaper, news show, social media site. It’s everywhere.

You can’t it out of your head. That the ghost of HYDRA could be so obviously spotted like that.

So you go back to your research. Noting down as many HYDRA names as you can find. Then you spot one. Vasily Karpov. And his obituary.

You read the police report. That he was hung by his ankles over his sink and drowned.

Someone else was after the Winter Soldier.

Your discovery is too late though. Steve, Sam, and Bucky are missing by the time you’re in Berlin.

Then Tony sends you some files. The reported death of the UN psychologist sent to assess Bucky. And the identity of the man who impersonated him. The man who found the Winter Soldier.

Baron Colonel Helmut Zemo.

If you weren’t so frustrated that you missed this you would have been impressed with his work.

In the aftermath of the Avengers splitting up you’re busy trying to stay under the government’s radar.

Then Thanos happens, and you’re dusted away. Only to return five years later.

After the final battle you stay in touch with Sam and Bucky, you’d helped Sam out during the years he was on the run.

So when he gives you a call after Bucky’s arrest you offer to help with the Flag Smashers.

Then Bucky suggests visiting Zemo.

“He knows all of HYDRA’s secrets.” Bucky reasons. Sam immediately gestures to you. You nod, agreeing with him.

“I’m literally right here, Buck.” He sighs.

“Do you have any idea where the serum’s coming from?” He’s got you there.

“Not entirely. After a couple of days of digging I might find something?”

The three of you exchange looks. You don’t have a couple of days to spare for a maybe.

“Okay. Let’s go see Zemo.” Sam says.

Then you’re in a maximum security prison in Berlin. Bucky went in to see Zemo alone, which puts you on edge.

You know the trigger words don’t work anymore. You’re not afraid of the Winter Soldier. You’re afraid that Zemo will manipulate Bucky into doing something he doesn’t want to do.

Bucky seems fine when he returns. You and Sam follow him as he leads you to a large warehouse.

“Where are we, man?” Sam asks. Bucky doesn’t answer, instead walking you through a ‘hypothetical’ jailbreak scenario.

You’re beginning to doubt how hypothetical this situation is.

Then Zemo steps into the room.

“What did you do?” Sam stares at Bucky. Though it’s pretty obvious what Bucky’s done.

“We need him Sam.” Bucky reasons.

“You’re going back to prison!” Sam demands, pointing at Zemo.

“If I may?” Zemo begins.

“NO!” Sam and Bucky yell at him. You hear Zemo mumble an apology as Sam turns to you,

“[Y/N]?” He prompts, hoping you’ll back him up. You sigh a little, considering your options,

“HYDRA was never able to successfully recreate the super soldier serum, excluding Bucky. That’s why they had to steal Howard Stark’s test serum for the Winter Soldier program. Whatever lead he has, it’s better than anything I’ve got.” Sam sighs,

“You don’t make a move, without our permission.” He warns Zemo. Zemo nods,

“Fair.” He then turns his attention to you, “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” Zemo’s eyes are fixed on yours as he inclines his head.

“[Y/N] [Y/L/N]. You must be Baron Zemo.”

“Baron?” You hear Sam question from behind you. You keep your eyes on Zemo.

“Or do you prefer Colonel? Some people value their military achievements over inherited titles.” You’re letting know you’ve done your research.

“Just Zemo will suffice.” You nod. Sam turns to him,

“Alright Zemo, where do we start?” Zemo heads to one side of the room, turning on the power. The lights flicker on, revealing a large collection of cars. “So our first move is grand theft auto?” Sam jokes.

“These are mine. Collected by family over the generations.” He opens the trunk of one of the cars. You glance inside, noticing the array of weaponry stored. “I spent years hunting people HYDRA recruited to recreate the serum, because once it’s out there,” he bends to reach inside another car. “Someone can create an army of people, like the Avengers.” He gives Sam a pointed look. “I ended the Winter Soldier program once before. I have no intention to leave my work unfinished.” Sam turns to you,

“So you two haven’t met?” You look away from him. Even after all these years, you’re still a little unsettled by how good Zemo was. That you never saw him coming. Zemo frowns,

“Should I know you?” You shake your head,

“Sam’s joking.” You dismiss.

“Sounds like he was doing your job for you.” Sam adds. You sigh before explaining to Zemo.

“I’ve been tracking down HYDRA personnel for the last few years. So Sam’s surprised we’ve never crossed paths.” Zemo nods, considering your explanation.

“Are you surprised?” You tilt your head at him. “That we never crossed paths?” Yes, absolutely. It still annoys you to this day. You shrug casually,

“The world’s a big place. It’s not too surprising.” Zemo looks at you, not buying how casual you are. He thankfully changes the subject,

“To do this, we’ll have to scale a ladder of low lives.”

“Well join the party, we’ve already started.” Sam tells him. Zemo heads off, his stride determined, as he calls back to the three of you,

“First stop is a woman named Selby. Mid-level fence, I still have a line on. From there we climb.” The three of you follow Zemo as he heads towards the exit.

He asks for a moment to change his clothes. Bucky paces outside the bathroom as Zemo changes.

When he emerges he’s dressed in a turtleneck, with dress trousers and shoes. He pulls a long coat with a fur collar onto his shoulders. You notice he’s also fresh faced, he must have shaved.

There’s a small walk to a local airfield where a large jet is waiting.

“So all this time you’ve been rich?” Sam gestures to the jet.

“Like [Y/N] said, I’m a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty before your friends destroyed my country.” You wince at the thought of Sokovia. What happened there is one of your biggest regrets.

There’s an old man stood at the stairs into the jet. Zemo greets him in Sokovian, kissing each of his cheeks affectionately. He welcomes the three of you and you reply with a polite,

“Thank you, sir,” in Sokovian. Zemo glances at you for a moment, no doubt surprised that you speak Sokovian.

The four of you get comfortable on the plane. You’re sat opposite Zemo, with Bucky next to you.

The atmosphere is rather tense, particularly after Zemo stole Bucky’s notebook, causing Bucky to threaten Zemo.

Then Zemo tells you where you’re going.

Madripoor. That’s just great.

As the plane gets close to Madripoor, Zemo suggests that the three of you should change your clothes. He explains each of your roles. You roll your eyes when he tells you that you’d be playing the part of his lover.

You head to the room at the back of the plane with you bag in hand. The outfit Zemo’s bough you is lying on the bed.

You close the door and get changed into your tact gear. People in Madripoor know you, they know there’s no change of you dating a Baron. You push open the door as you finish getting changed. You’re busy securing your weapons when you hear Zemo approach,

“Is my selection not to your liking?” he asks. You look up at him. He doesn’t seem mad that you’re refusing his gift, just curious.

You glance down at the outfit. No doubt it was expensive, and it’s very tasteful.

“No offence intended, Baron. But if we’re going to Madripoor I’m going as myself, not as your arm candy.”

“You couldn’t be both?” He asks. You stop and look back up at him, he returns your gaze, his thoughts a mystery to you. Then Sam interrupts,

“Damn, you think you’ve over done that a little?” He asks you, gesturing to the array of knives along your belt, and the holsters across your thighs and calves. You laugh a little,

“Walking into Madripoor unarmed is pretty unconventional. You three will stick out without any noticeable weapons.”

“You’re forgetting, we have one of HYDRA’s most notable weapons.” Zemo nods his head towards the other end of the plane. No doubt referring to Bucky. You’re quick to press a knife to his throat,

“Refer to him as a weapon again, Baron, and I will ensure you regret allowing me on your plane.” You trail the knife along his jawline, watching it trace against his skin. “Understood?” His gaze doesn’t stray from your face, but he swallows hard and provides a minute nod.

“Of course, Colonel.” You tilt your head aside. He knows more than he lets on. You pull away from him, feeling suddenly aware of how close the two of you are.

Bucky leans his head though the doorway,

“We’re landing.”

A/N: This is a lot longer than I thought it was going to be so there’s going to be a few more parts to this.

If you’d like to be tagged for this series just let me know!!

#zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #baron zemo x y/n #baron zemo #helmut zemo #baron helmut zemo #tfatws #tv: fatws #fatws #zemo x you #zemo headcanons #zemo x y/n #zemo fanfic #zemo imagine

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ghostbustermelanieking · 3 years

Note

Number 17 (kissing to hide from bad guys) for the fic prompts? Bonus points if it's from one of the earlier seasons (maybe when they're still actively researching statements?) but the choice is entirely yours

so this is set in s3, sometime after 102. (possibly an au... who's to say!!) as such, warning for references to jon's kidnapping in 101, and scenes of people think they might be taken/killed/etc.

17. Needing to kiss to hide from bad guys

" Here, " Jon whispers in a panic in Martin's ear, and pulls him abruptly towards a shadowy spot in an alley. Martin goes along immediately, pressing towards the wall while also trying to push himself in front of Jon. Jon's breathing is sharp and frantic, his hand tight where it's clutching at Martin's arm, and the footsteps of their pursuers are still echoing slowly down the street.

This was meant to be a work trip—or whatever passes for that these days. Another attempt to locate the ritual site for the Unknowing. Elias had suggested Jon go, and Martin hadn't wanted him to go alone. That's the last thing Jon needs, after everything, after being held captive for a month… Martin hadn't been willing to risk it, the possibility of Jon being taken again.

It wasn't supposed to be dangerous, Elias had said. Just a simple scouting, it probably wasn't the site in the first place, the Stranger might not even be there, surely the fact that Jon had escaped so easily meant they wouldn't come after him again…

This is clearly not true. They'd been spotted, inside the warehouse where they'd been searching. Martin can remember the moment with a shocking clarity: Jon's sharp intake of breath as he'd reached out to grab Martin's arm, his nails digging frantically into Martin's skin, the slow way Martin had looked up and seen it. Them. Things that looked wrong, inhuman, in a way that Martin can't even describe.

They've come after them. Followed them out of the warehouse, onto the street, and of course no one is around to see them, and Martin knows they should've gone for the rental car, should've immediately gone for the rental car, but they'd taken some wrong turns, frantic to get away from the blank-faced figures (the cheery voice calling for the Archivist and asking about his skin, and Martin is going to throw up). And now they're here, hiding in some alley while these things pretending to be human are searching for them, coming for Jon all over again.

Jon's breathing has gone shaky. He's pulling at Martin's arm like they can get any further into the wall. Martin's got an arm in front of Jon, like they're in a car about to crash, and he's staring out at the alley, waiting for those things to catch up, and he says the first thing he can think of, in a whisper: "I-I won't let them take you again."

Jon's breathing goes tighter somehow. "Martin, you can't… "

"I'm not going to let them take you, Jon!" Martin hisses, his voice pitching too high for a moment. Jon squeezes his arm frantically and he backtracks, quieter: " Sorry, sorry, it's just… I'm not letting that happen to you again!"

"They'd kill you," Jon whispers. "They wouldn't hesitate , Martin, and I am not… I am not losing anyone else!"

The footsteps echo closer; the echoing sing-song-y voice comes again, calling for Jon. Panic slices through Martin like a knife and he presses closer, as if physically shielding Jon will do a damn thing. (Maybe it will. You never know; maybe it will.) "W-we should run for the car," he says. (Although at the moment he has absolutely no idea where they parked it.)

"We'll never make it," Jon murmurs. Martin turns a little in time to see Jon, who's staring off into the distance with wide, haunted eyes. "We need to hide. "

Martin looks back towards the street, at the approaching shadows. "I'll distract them," he says—one last ditch effort to at least get Jon to safety. "A-and you run."

"What? No. Martin." Jon's voice is pressing now; his hand slips from Martin's arm down to Martin's hand, intertwining their fingers. Martin looks back, startled, and finds Jon staring at him nervously. "Martin, do you trust me?" he says, voice wavering.

Martin blinks a few rapid times. "Wh-what?" he says, caught off guard; he holds tighter to Jon's hand, suddenly worried that Jon is going to run out and distract them so Martin won't have to.

Jon exhales frustratedly. "It's just that… I have an idea of how we could hide, and i-it's a little unusual, and stupid, a-and so I wanted your… to make sure you are all right with it first…"

The voice is getting closer. Panic snaps through Martin, and he hisses frantically, "Yes, whatever, it's fine, j-just do it before…"

Jon lets go of Martin's hand and moves, in a flash, to cup the side of his face, both hands, and Martin only has a moment to wonder what the hell is going on before Jon rises on tiptoes, pulls Martin down a bit, and kisses him.

Martin's brain shorts out for a moment—stuck between the marvel of him kissing Jon, Jon kissing him—and the panic of the fact that they're being chased by mannequin-things that will probably skin them. He makes a muffled, startled sound into Jon's mouth. Jon's hands are trembling on his face.

Then the pieces start to slide together—Jon's doing that movie bit, where you kiss to hide from the bad guys. Quite possibly ridiculous, but it's something, something more than one of them being bait. (And to be entirely ridiculous for a moment… if they're both about to die, Martin's glad he's gotten to kiss Jon before he's done it.) So Martin plays along. He leans down and turns them a bit, so Jon's in the corner between the Dumpster and the wall, and his back is blocking the both of them from view; he'll look more inconspicuous than Jon will.

And then he kisses Jon back. Tentatively, at first (just because you kiss someone to hide from monsters or whatever doesn't mean you actually want to kiss them), and then a little deeper. The way he's wanted to kiss Jon this whole time, as long as he's ever thought about it. He brings a hand to Jon's face, too, thinking to hide it from the Stranger. Pushes a little bit of hair behind Jon's ear. Jon leans into the touch; his right thumb moves, slowly, over Martin's cheek, and Martin has to hold back something that might be a sob. He leans closer, their foreheads almost touching, trying to focus on the fact that there are things trying to kill them, and not just on the fast that he is kissing Jon…

Jon breaks away abruptly. Pulls back just far enough that their mouths aren't touching anymore—his hands still on Martin's face—and says, "I… Martin, I-I think they're gone now." He is breathing hard, his eyes darting over Martin's shoulder and then back.

Martin is probably breathing hard too. He is drawing a blank; his hand is still in Jon's hair. "They're… they're gone?" he says, still in a whisper. His voice is shaking, he thinks.

"Yes… yes, they're gone now." Jon looks right at him, his dark eyes huge in the dim light of the alley. "Martin… Martin, I am so… "

"Car," says Martin. It is the first word he comes up with—they need to go, there are still things trying to kill them, and they can't just stand around talking when… He grabs Jon's hand where it's lowering, somewhere around his neck, and squeezes urgently. "Jon, car, we need to go… "

" Christ, I forgot, I…" Jon shakes his head hard and moves with Martin towards the opposite end of the alley. He doesn't let go of Martin's hand, all the way to the car, where they've left it two blocks away. Martin climbs immediately in the driver's seat, and turns the key, and drives off without hesitation, too fast to even buckle his seatbelt.

There is silence in the car for a moment, as they drive away. Martin grips the wheel hard and stares straight out of the front window, unsure of what the hell to say. (Unsure whether to say Thank you for coming up with a plan to save our lives, or You just kissed me in an alley, maybe we should talk about this? or I've been in love with you for about a year now, and I guess you beat me to the punch, except I don't know if you actually MEANT it. ) But in the end, it's Jon who breaks the silence—to say, in a tight, rigid voice, "Martin, I am so sorry."

Martin's hands actually tighten around the wheel somehow. "Wh-what?" he says, uncertain. "What do you mean… Jon, you saved us."

"Th-that was entirely unprofessional, I… I shouldn't have kissed you like that, I just… I-I was afraid they'd find us, and it was all I could think of, and I just…" Jon's blushing. Martin can see it out of the corner of his eye. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

Martin takes a shaky breath. He must be blushing, too, he thinks; his face and neck feel like they're on fire. He says, "You don't have to be sorry," just as Jon says, "I-I didn't want to go back." Martin's mouth shuts like a trap as Jon keeps talking: "I… if I went back, I think they would have… and I didn't want… and I thought if they took you… th-they would've killed you, Martin, and I wouldn't… I didn't…"

"It's okay , Jon," Martin blurts, and as soon as he says it, he finds he means it. "It is. I… I was scared, too."

"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have brought you, Martin, I should've left you at home…"

"Did you forget the part where I insisted on coming?" Martin laughs a little. "I… I'm glad you weren't here alone, Jon. I didn't want them to take you again. I…" He swallows hard, stares out at the road in front of him. One of his hands falls away from the wheel, towards the center console. "Please don't say you wish I hadn't been here. Please."

Jon's quiet for a moment. The only sound is the tires chewing up the road beneath them, before he finally says, "Still. I-I never should have kissed you, Martin. I am so… "

"Jon, you don't… y-you don't need to apologize, okay? You don't, " says Martin. "It's okay, it's fine, it was… I-I didn't mind, all right? You don't need to apologize."

"I… I should have clarified. I didn't really ask before I…"

" Jon. Please, it's okay. " Martin reaches for something else to say, and all he can come up with is: "I have had much worse kisses, okay? Much worse."

Jon laughs, a laugh sharp with surprise. After a moment, Martin laughs, too. This whole night has been so absurd. They were chased by some mannequins or whatever, they had to run for their lives, and Jon kissed him, and he kissed Jon, and they're alive. It's pretty hilarious, if you think about it for more than five minutes. It's about as absurd as anything else they've been through in the past year. He'd take this all over being trapped by worms.

"I… I have, too, actually," says Jon, finally, after they've stopped laughing. " Much worse. You're not…" He stops, makes a strangled noise like he's embarrassed or something, before going on. "Th-thank you, Martin. Really."

Martin chews at his lower lip. "Thank you, " he says. "For… for getting us out of there."

Jon takes a shaky breath. His fingers brush over Martin's free hand, where it's resting over the center console; Martin tenses all over, automatically, but Jon doesn't take it. Just brushes his fingers there. Martin thinks of Jon's expression before he leaned up to kiss him, Jon's fingers against his cheeks.

"I… I should've left you at home," Jon says, almost reluctantly. "But I'm… glad you came with me, Martin. I'm glad you're with me."

Martin swallows hard. Bites back a small smile. He'd meant it, when he kissed Jon back; he wishes he could tell Jon he meant it. (He could, he supposes. Nothing stopping him. He wonders what Jon would say back.)

But what he says is, "I am, too," because it's a sort of a confession, and he means it, too, as much as the kiss. Even with the almost dying, with all of it, he's glad, somehow, he was here.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jon smile, just a little. Martin smiles, too.

#i sort of envisioned this taking place in the au where jon stays w martin in 102. but whos to say!!!#tma fic #jonmartin #the magnus archives #i wrote this

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translightyagami · 3 years

Text

James “translightyagami/avoidfilledwithcelluloid” Death Note Fic Masterlist

Hello to all you guys out there. Here is my full masterlist of allllll the Death Note fanfic I’ve written: There are over 120 fics contained within this entire list. I’m going to split it up by chapter fics, one-shot fics, short fic compilations, and gift fics I’ve done for fandom exchanges. The descriptions will tell you what the pairings are (mostly Lawlight, but there’s other stuff too). There are several posts of mine that are loosely defined fic, but I won’t be adding those in this post as they are just … hard to organize lol.

Fics are marked with E if they have explicit content and T if there are textual references to transgender characters. Chapter fics are marked as either complete or currently incomplete. Okay! Here we go!

[UPDATED 11/20/2021]

CHAPTER FICS

sit and stay awhile https://archiveofourown.org/works/31032719 complete Light has a fantasy of sitting in L’s lap, and he’s got a plan to make that a reality.

the art of ink and flowers https://archiveofourown.org/works/35106943 currently incomplete, E, T Light needs an apprentice and thinks he's found the perfect one in young firecracker Mello. Now to deal with Mello's uncle, the strange, mysterious, and - oops! - super hot florist Ryuzaki, who doesn't want his nephew near a tattoo parlor. What could possibly go wrong?

i could write it (better than you ever felt it) https://archiveofourown.org/works/13913043 currently incomplete Light works in the To-Oh university library, where he meets his favorite romantic mystery author, Eraldo Coil, who later reveals himself to be the great detective L. Through the course of their working together to solve a crime, Light finds he might have feelings for L and those feelings might be shared by the detective novelist.

your heart is an empty cup https://archiveofourown.org/works/13027707 currently incomplete Light is the assistant manager of a Starbucks in NYC, and L is one of his most annoying customers. When L accuses Light (correctly) of being Kira, as well as mysteriously asking for his help on a different case, the barista has to decide if he’s ready to get in bed with the enemy – maybe even literally.

the forest holds strange creatures https://archiveofourown.org/works/16442660 complete, E, T Light, a paranormal research grad student, comes to a small town trying to find a mysterious cryptid. He finds L, a 10-foot-tall tree creature, who helps Light discover the greatest cryptid of all: love. The only reason this one is in the chapter fic section is because it includes a Halloween special chapter with the intro of Beyond Birthday into the cryptid AU.

At Your Service https://archiveofourown.org/works/19229524 complete, E, T The Yagami family owns the sprawling, exclusive Hotel Kitsune where all sorts of international espionage agents make their temporary home. That includes the great detective L, whose romantic tension with Light comes to a boiling point when he comes to stay after a long absence.

best practices https://archiveofourown.org/works/21113519 complete, E, T Light has been working his way to the top of the corporate ladder thanks to his own hard work, and his more-than-close relationship with L, the company CEO and founder’s son. Their relationship comes to a head when L challenges Light to open himself up, making him vulnerable to showing the true depth of what he feels for L and his own desire to explore sexual power dynamics.

ONE-SHOT FICS

tell me the truth https://archiveofourown.org/works/12592320 E, T Light and Matsuda hit up a bar after work, and then Light hits up Matsuda for sex, praise, and a distraction from the deep emptiness inside him.

constricting https://archiveofourown.org/works/13721580 E, T Light breaks L’s favorite tea cup in their kitchen, and L eats him out because he loves his husband so much.

tell me I’m good https://archiveofourown.org/works/13986861 E In the middle of the night, L receives a drunk call from Light, hiding in the bathroom at a party. The call, turning from desperate to horny, reveals more about Light than L wanted to know.

if at first you don’t succeed https://archiveofourown.org/works/15119816 E, T Light gave his first blow job and accidentally bit L on the dick. He tries to make up for his mistake by trying again.

let me work on you https://archiveofourown.org/works/15884799 E, T As the result of losing bet to him, Light has to be L’s computer desk – naked and laying over his boyfriend’s lap. Of course, when L gives him another sexy challenge, Light can’t help but rise to the occasion.

alterations https://archiveofourown.org/works/17945957 E, T Light comes to visit his boyfriend Mikami at his fancy law office and suggests they have sex there. When Mikami reacts unfavorably, Light has to do damage control, and it smarts a lot more than he expected.

lizard https://archiveofourown.org/works/18552499 E, T Light meets a beefcake guy at a bar on the anniversary of L’s death, and lets him take him home (Lizard is my death note OC, and the fic was a wonderful commission from @queerical)

Buried Alive https://archiveofourown.org/works/19705540 L and Light live together in L’s underground bunker after the apocalypse scorches the Earth. They watch some VHS tapes and do some gardening.

Our Little Secret https://archiveofourown.org/works/23822881 E After getting his memories, his freedom, back, Light wants to give L a gift: Kira tied up at his mercy. But L isn’t so sure if that gift is the one he really wants.

The Light of the Moon https://archiveofourown.org/works/25052722 E, T L is a vampire and accidentally bites Light, who is haunted by dreams that make him question why he wants L to bite him again (and maybe … something more …)

little animals https://archiveofourown.org/works/26829778 E Light and his werewolf boyfriend L fuck in their backyard garden.

Change OR the one where L and Light get married https://archiveofourown.org/works/27748159 E, T A gift/commish fic for @ohgodplsdontlook. Six years after the Kira case closes, L and Light go have a wedding in the mansion where L spent his childhood summers. They bring the Yagami family, their baggage, and vows to share each other’s secrets.

a divine power https://archiveofourown.org/works/28018197 E L has a particular power that has helped him get confessions from even the most hardened, tight-lipped criminals, and he offers to use this power on Light to get an honest answer to the question "Are You Kira?" Not really believing L's power is real (and also smelling an easy way to lie his way out of being caught) Light agrees to submit to this bizarre investigative power - not realizing that L is about to make him a *very* honest man. (TL;DR, L has a Magic Cock That Makes Anyone He Fucks Fall in Love With Him AU.)

Possession https://archiveofourown.org/works/29232294 E After being killed by his family for being Kira, Light makes a deal with the demon L to get back to the mortal realm - a very, very sexy deal.

24-Hour Gym https://archiveofourown.org/works/29415480 After the yellow warehouse goes (mortally) in their favor, Light and Mikami frequent the same 24-hour gym. Eventually, after seeing all his work out skills, Light asks Mikami if he can bench press *Kira*.

Fantasy of a Fantasy https://archiveofourown.org/works/29729685 E, T While monitoring the Yagami family home for suspicious activity, L catches Light getting off to a dirty magazine and projects what he thinks his main suspect's fantasies might be.

the chains that bind us https://archiveofourown.org/works/32051299 E, T Obligatory post-Yotsuba arc fic where Light is released from the handcuffs, and wants desperately to be back in bondage with L. Features a very creative use of the handcuff chain.

Kept https://archiveofourown.org/works/33334282 E, T Omegaverse AU where Light cooks up a horny evil scheme so that L won’t throw him in jail, and also lets him get that alpha lovin’ he so desires.

so glad you’re home https://archiveofourown.org/works/33977605 E, T L returns from a solo case and he and Light have a purr-fect homecoming together - including some spanking, cat ears, and a shower of sappy affection.

SHORT FIC COMPLIATIONS

hand in unlovable hand https://archiveofourown.org/works/15025058 E Okay so I’ve been answering Tumblr askbox prompts for over 2 years now, and this? This is ALL of the Lawlight fics. There are over 70 Lawlight fics in this compilation, with all the nsfw fics marked as such. Here are somethings you’ll find in this horde: an AU where L is fat; dirty talk; ghost sex; phone calls about buying a house; early morning tea; kissing; spanking; bondage; L’s hair being brushed; and much, much more. If you have wished for a particular type of Lawlight fic, it is probably in this bunch.

Containing Multitudes https://archiveofourown.org/works/17570645 E Like i said, I’ve been answering all types of Tumblr prompts. These are all the multi-pairing fics that are not Lawlight. In over 20 fics, you’ll find Mikalight, Light/Misa, Misa/Takada, Misa/Rem, Light/Namikawa, Beyond/Light, Light/Matsuda, and even a few ones with Light and my DN OC Lizard. All nsfw fics are marked as such.

hereditary https://archiveofourown.org/works/17159354 All the Tumblr prompt fics I wrote specifically about the Yagami Family. About 4 fics long, includes a really nice couple of Sayu and Light sibling sadness fics.

bottom shelf erotica https://archiveofourown.org/works/20899706 E These are the 5 fics that I wrote to fill Death Note kinkmeme prompts. They are few frills, dirty, sloppy, all bottom Light smut fics. Also, since I didn’t want to give myself away on kinkmeme they’re all cis stuff. (because really who else would have been throwing trans smut up there?)

something between us (anyway) https://archiveofourown.org/works/30304620 T, E a slowly updating collection of 10 tumblr fic requests I received for the pairings of lawlight and (my DN OC) lizard/light, covering prompts including omegaverse, coffee shop AU, sexy lingerie, and much, much more.

kinktober 2021 https://archiveofourown.org/works/34235686 E, T updated each saturday of Oct. 2021, these five fics all revolve around lawlight and specific kinky prompts.

GIFT EXCHANGE FICS

your father’s son https://archiveofourown.org/works/15115568 T A Secret Shinigami 2018 gift for AbbodonAbandon. Light and Soichiro have a talk about why Light quit the tennis team. Lots of trans shit in here.

in your shoes https://archiveofourown.org/works/22405516 E A Sexy Enquirer 2019 gift for @pashmina-dhaage. L is a professor who is having a quiet relationship with one of his grad students, Light. When he sees Light through his office window stepping in mud, L rushes to give him the shoes off his feet.

wash it out https://archiveofourown.org/works/22405648 A Sexy Enquirer 2019 gift for @complicatedmerary. Mikami and Light, a pianist and violinist respectively with the same opera company, are carrying on a passionate affair while Light remains married to the opera’s soprano, Misa.

Thank you for Reading, Commenting, and Being Nice to Me About My Silly Fic!

#me me me #subtextual #death note #lawlight #my fic #death note fanfiction #woof! okay!#i know i'm posting at the worst time #but i'm gonna pin this so everyone can see

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tiny-maus-boots · 3 years

Text

Queen of Hearts pt 14

A/N: thank you as always to @chloes-yellow-cup for being my bestie and still doing all the things i hate to do. and a big thanks to @kimmania for your constant encouragement and supply of Legos. i love you awesome nerds.

14.

“Hit me with your best shot…”

Aubrey’s long arm stretched out along the back of the dark leather of the modern style sofa she was settled on. For the most part she could tune out the dry croak from the desk, but…

“Why don’t you hit me with your best shot.”

This was the sixth time in an hour that she was hearing the song. She was going to have to remind Lilly to remove it from the jukebox after tonight.

“Hit me with your best shot…”

The rough warble across from her died down and she thought for a moment that the singer had finally drifted off asleep. Aubrey’s head turned to the screen that showed a live feed of the cameras around The Dirty Bird. Movement flickered though them as Stacie and the Doc walked between the tables and around the bar toward the back office. She turned her head to check on the figure standing but slumped over her desk only to find dark blue eyes watching and waiting for her attention. The small woman raised herself to her elbows from her slouch and belted out just as the door opened.

“FIRE AWAAAAYYYYY!!! Pew pew pew.”

Aubrey sighed as Detective Mitchell’s finger guns gave out on the click of her tongue and she collapsed back over the desk to cradle a half empty bottle of grappa, ass up where she stood. Stacie’s wide eyes panned slowly toward her, body bouncing lightly with barely restrained glee.

“Oh my God….” Chloe took one look at the Detective and pinned Aubrey with a glare. “How drunk is she?”

The blonde raised a shoulder as she considered. “She’s been worse.”

“Doc. Doooooocccc….I hurt. Right. Here.” Beca raised a hand and brought it back to point at her butt. Her finger wavered as she tried to locate the exact spot which caused the most pain and then pointed for emphasis with a little too much enthusiasm. “Right. OW. Here. OWIE.”

Stacie eased onto the sofa and settled in comfortably in Aubrey’s lap to watch Doc Beale work. The redhead moved behind Beca and settled her bag on the desk. She took a great steadying breath before wrestling away the grappa from the prone detective and snapping on a pair of gloves. Aubrey admired the way Doc Beale efficiently and deftly managed to get Beca’s jeans over her hips and halfway down her legs with practiced ease. Beca seemed to admire it too because she stirred enough to look blearily over her shoulder with a smile.

“If you wanted to check out my assetsssss Doc, you didn’t have to wait til I got stabbeded in it. Right. There. Ow.”

“Yes, I see. Please stop poking the wound in your ass cheek. How even….?”

“I was tailing my guy. My big fish. Fishy fishy fishy. That’s a fun word to say.” Chloe muttered something Aubrey couldn’t hear over Stacie’s soft chuckling. “I heard that! Plenty of people would be DE-FUCKING-lighted to spend their date night starin’ at a little of this action.”

Aubrey bit her lip to keep the laugh from breaking free as the detective wiggled her ass unmindful of the tight skinny jeans trapping her legs and toppled into a slide nearly off the desk before Chloe managed to grab and right her teetering form.

“Head down, ass up. Now tell me again how you managed to get stabbed in the butt cheek with glass?”

“You said that like you’re used to giving that order. I might be down for that, just be gentle with me.”

Beca gave her a leer that the doctor promptly ignored as she prepped her tools.

“Detective, remember that I have some very sharp instruments here that I am excellent with.”

Beca gave her a dubious look but obediently turned and bent over the desk again so the other woman could examine the wound. Chloe was utterly focused on the task of cleaning and debriding the punctures in a circular pattern. Aubrey had been sure it was going to require at least a few stitches from what she saw before she called for real medical help.

“I told you. I was following the big fish.”

“And you followed him into a bar I’m guessing.”

“Right, rule numero dos of detectivering. Don’t stick out like a sore thumb.”

Chloe blinked and looked up from her work to focus on Beca. “What’s numero uno?”

“That’s not a real number, Doc.”

“Solid rebuttal.”

“Did…did you just make pun of my rump? Oh my God I’m in love. I’d get down on one knee right now and propose. Except you’re feeling up my butt right now and that’s kinda nice.”

The doctor’s bright blue eyes narrowed and she jabbed the needle into the hunk of flesh she had just grabbed in preparation for the injection. She depressed the plunger quickly as her patient yelped and attempted to squirm away.

“HEATHEN! Oh God. I’m dying. Help. I’m dying, Dr. Kevorkian is killing me….my vision…I can’t see.”

“Open your eyes, idiot. That was just an antibiotic booster. Have you had a tetanus shot recently?”

“Pretend I said whatever answer will prevent you from being a literal pain in my ass.”

It was too much for Stacie and she turned her head to bury her laughter in Aubrey’s neck. The blonde tightened her grip on her fiancée and enjoyed a satisfying laugh at the detective’s expense. She hadn’t known what she’d find when she had gotten Beca’s distress call. They had all been on high alert since coming back to Los Angeles, trying to close ranks as best they could without being obvious about it. She had been waiting for an attack to come and her first thought when she had gotten the call was that it had finally begun. Each moment waiting in her office while Lilly retrieved the Detective from her hiding place in an abandoned warehouse building down at the port had been like a stone on her chest. She had needed this humor to ease the cold grip of fear on her heart.

Aubrey’s line of business didn’t lend itself to close relationships with members of law enforcement, at least not for long. What she and the Detective had was something altogether different than any of the other criminal-cop business agreements she had formed during her career. Beca was someone she trusted at her side, more…trusted at her back. The idea that someone would try to take her out was sobering and her laughter faded. Stacie sensed the change in her and cupped Aubrey’s face gently to bring their foreheads together. Words weren’t necessary for Stacie to understand what she was thinking and feeling. The blonde took a deep breath and straightened her spine. One hand came up to adjust and smooth her tie. If it had started…she wanted to know who was coming for her people.

“So, who’s the fish?”

Beca lifted her head from the desk and struggled to focus on Aubrey. It took her a few seconds to process the question. She seemed to have forgotten the conversation while Chloe worked silently to finish working on her wound.

“A security guard. He’s got bad taste in bars and also what I would loosely refer to as ladies.”

She couldn’t imagine where a security guard would fit in with Alice’s plans and frowned. Maybe this wasn’t about her. Beca had other cases she was working, maybe this was just another Tuesday night for the cop.

“A security guard? Sounds kind of small time for you.”

Denim blue eyes flashed to hers, some of the haze of alcohol burned away by intensity of her drive. The small brunette’s lips quirked into a smirk. Aubrey was suddenly very sure that nothing Beca did was small time or without a very good reason.

“It only takes a small stone in the right place to make a rockslide.”

Chloe slowed her movements as she finished her work. Something about what Beca said must have been interesting to the doctor because she kept her attention on the detective while she cleaned up the trash and peeled her gloves off to toss in the black plastic trash bag left there for that purpose. Aubrey guessed she was re-evaluating her previous estimations of the foul mouthed, perpetually smug, woman.

“You’re not wrong, Bec. So, what’s this small stone guarding?”

“Not what. Where. Dude works at the port.” She grunted and stood gingerly with a backward glance at her own butt. “Hm. Nice, think chicks will dig the scar?”

If Chloe had been considering there may be more to Beca than outrageous flirtation it was only a brief passing fantasy. She sighed and rolled her eyes then glared at Aubrey.

“18, Aubrey.” It was almost enough to make her face split into a grin and she had to turn her chuckle into a soft cough. Chloe tied up the bag and dropped it in the trashcan sure that it would be disposed of carefully. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to patch one of them up, they knew the drill by now. “You owe me so big.”

“I’m good for it. So, Detective, what about this dock rat?”

Beca stopped checking herself out long enough to pull her pants up and wink at Chloe before answering. Doc pretended not to notice but Aubrey could see her watching Beca from the corner of her eye while she played around with the tools in her bag.

“When I figure how he connects to Richie Rich, I’ll let you know.”

Stacie’s body tensed in her arms and Aubrey glanced at her curiously. Her girl chewed her lower lip in thought, a habit that Aubrey found adorable. “Something on your mind, Stace?”

“It’s probably nothing. Just something Edith said about someone I went to prom with. His dad got him a job down at the docks.” Stacie shrugged it off but Aubrey could tell she was still chewing on it. “Probably just coincidence.”

Aubrey and Beca exchanged a look. After a lifetime of double crosses and plot twists, neither of them believed in coincidences. The detective dug around in her pocket for her phone. She wasn’t quite sober yet but a hell of a lot steadier than a few moments ago. Aubrey snatched the phone easily out of the air when it was tossed her way and glanced at the screen.

It was a video and she angled it so Stacie could see too. Her fiancée pressed play and sighed. Beca could be heard in the background giving a lot of very specific direction to the two women practically fucking on a pool table in a disgusting looking rathole of a bar. Aubrey was pretty sure the women were hookers and the corner of her mouth quirked in amusement. Stacie took the phone out of her hand turned it to face back to the detective.

“Really Beca?”

“I thought it was pretty good for my directorial debut. But your gutter brain is making you miss the real show.”

Aubrey took the phone back and focused on the whole scene. Behind the women in a shadowed booth two men were clearly having an animated discussion. One was further into the shadow than the other but his gestures were strong and decisive. She watched as the other, younger seeming, man’s gestures became conciliatory and submissive the longer the conversation went on. In the foreground a flurry of noise and activity caused the camera to shake and wildly as if it were being swung around. There were glimpses of rough faces and snatches of shouts and curses. At one point there was a good stretch of scuffed flooring where she assumed Beca had been crawling away from the obvious brawl happening around her.

The camera came up again in time to catch the men leaving their booth in a hurry. Each of them caught in the neon blue glow from beer signs on the walls. Stacie snatched the phone out of her hand and hit pause. Long legs dropped down to the floor from the sofa and she stood in shock.

“Bree…this is Senator Grant. The guy he’s with is his son Kodie, we went to high school...Jesus Christ…”

“You know him?”

“Weston stole his money.”

They looked at each other then turned twin green-eyed gazes on Detective Mitchell. The small woman’s brow was furrowed in thought, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she worried it.

“The kid is on the videos.”

Mitchell didn’t have to say which videos, they all knew. Even Doc Beale. Stacie looked away from them, uncomfortable with the knowledge that she had been in some of those videos. Aubrey let out a long settling breath and stood. She gently took the phone from Stacie’s shaking hand and brought it to lips to brush a soft kiss over Stacie’s wrist. It gave her a wan smile but it was something. Stacie would be okay. Aubrey looked down at the phone and watched the video again. And again. And once more. She studied every gesture, every twitch of posture, every unconscious expression she could make out.

“I want the kid. He’s the weak link.”

Beca grunted and limped around the desk to grab her keys and helmet, ready to go back to work with a hole in her ass nearly as big as the one in her pants. It wasn’t going to happen that way and Aubrey reached out to snag both items from the sidebar and hand them to Stacie who easily placed them on a shelf far too high for Detective Mitchell to reach without finding a stand on.

“White she devil.”

“Sorry, Bec. Can’t have you half-assing anything.”

She didn’t like it and Aubrey could tell but Beca sighed and grunted. “Solid burn.”

Aubrey gave her a quick grin then turned to eye the Doctor who was watching them all curiously. Her gaze met Aubrey’s and a brow went up. Honestly, she almost felt a little bad about needing to have the Doc take Beca somewhere safe. She didn’t ask, she didn’t need to. Chloe knew what she was thinking and started to shake her head no until Beca tried to drag a chair over to the get her stuff.

“I really hate you, Aubrey Posen.”

“No, you don’t, Doc.”

“You WILL be making a very large donation to St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital.”

“Absolutely.”

“And vacation for my office girls. Two weeks!”

“I’ll buy the plane tickets myself.”

“And if she pisses me off just once I will trank her and leave her on a park bench.”

The last was a bluff but Aubrey treated the threat seriously. “Understood. Anything else?”

“….I’ll think of something!” Aubrey bit back another grin and nodded seriously. She slipped her hands into her pockets as the doctor steeled herself mentally to take on Beca. “Come one Detective, as much as this pains me to say…you’re coming home with me.”

Beca dropped the helmet she had finally just retrieved on the ground and left it like discarded trash to limp over to Chloe. “Okay.”

“God…you’re so easy.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Doc.”

Chloe gave her a final glare and slung the detective’s arms over her shoulder to help her limp out of the office. Stacie settled the length of her body along Aubrey’s back, hands coming up to finger the buttons of her vest.

“How well do you know this Kodie, joker?”

Stacie hmmm thoughtfully. “Not as well as I did in high school. Edith told me he got caught up in some trouble recently. I think I know how we can get to him though.”

“How?”

“He likes cocaine and paying for his um let’s call them dates. I had Happy make some calls for you.”

The smile came to her face easily and she leaned into Stacie’s embrace. This wasn’t anything like what her mom and dad had. Her mother had never been this involved in what her father did for work. She had kept as distant from it as she could, turning her nose up at the family that protected them, running from the darkness of the business. Stacie would never do that to her. She knew it all way down to the bottom of soul. Aubrey turned in her arms and brought their heads together.

“You got more cards up your sleeve than a Vegas croupier, you know that?”

“Hmm. I learned from the best.”

Aubrey closed the distance, her brushing softly over Stacie’s. There were a lot of words she could say about how she felt about the woman in her arms. She could probably write pages on it, but words didn’t matter half as much as action did. She was going to marry this woman and spend her life giving her the best of everything. They were going to be happy and she didn’t care who she had to kill to make it happen.

“Let me take you home?”

“Aubrey…in your arms? I’m already there.”

#queen of hearts #staubrey #pitch perfect au #the debt collector series

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ethanredotter · 3 years

Text

My ideas for Zootopia 2

Ah, Zootopia. It broke the record for the biggest opening weekend for an animated film, went on to be Disney Animation’s third most profitable film ever, became the second highest grossing original film of all time, and was nominated for and won innumerable awards including many for best animated picture, and rightfully so. It introduced us to a beautiful, creative, and lovable world populated by amazing characters, and had a poignant message that was conveyed, in my humble opinion, in the best possible way. I liked it a lot when it first came out, but after recently getting into stuff with a similar concept (Beastars), and being subsequently recommended various fan content on YT (Savage Company, Return to Zootopia), I got back into the film again and absolutely fell in love with it to the point that it’s joined my top three films alongside Coco, and The Land Before Time.

Which is why I am really, really craving a followup of some kind.

Seriously, of all of Disney Animation’s recent films (or heck, films in general), I feel like this one has the greatest potential for a sequel. The setting oozes creativity from its every pore, has so many nooks and crannies that we didn’t manage to explore in the film, its two main leads were perfect and I really feel still have plenty of room to grow, and there are still so many ideas old and new that can be explored. So far we’ve received a few tie-in books, a hidden object game which is no longer available, a few comics, including a series about stories from Nick and Judy’s childhoods, a very large and intricate land expansion under construction in Shanghai Disneyland and a game starring Nick and Judy in Epcot, and a Disney+ original series focusing on various characters from around the city. All of these are fantastic, but four years after the film’s release, we’ve received no official confirmation of a proper continuation to Nick and Judy’s story like a sequel or TV series, just a few rumors here and there.

We’ll get some kind of proper followup eventually, that’s for sure, but what could it do? What kinds of places could they take us to? What ideas could it explore? What could happen to our leads, and what kinds of new characters could they befriend or combat? Well, I’m gonna give my ideas right here; buckle up, because I have a lot.

The City

Let me start off with the City itself. I mean… It’s marvelous. The architecture, like the Oasis Casino, central station, first precinct, the various neighborhoods. The accommodations like the sprinklers, water tubes, Little Rodentia, and the climate wall! The city of Zootopia is a star in and of itself with just how much care, attention, and creativity was put into its every crevice, and we barely got to see half of what it has to offer, as we only got a proper look at five of its twelve districts. They’ve revealed a few other districts via some maps and books (Meadowlands, Outback Island, Canal District) but there are a bunch of others yet to be revealed, and plenty unexplored.

Let’s start with what could be done with the ones already revealed. The Canal District could accommodate the city’s highly aquatic residents like hippos, otters, muskrats, beavers and manatees, and also be one of the city’s primary trade hubs. In terms of layout, it could be like Venice meets the Mekong Delta on steroids where the citizens live and make their living either in boats, or in buildings whose entrances are right on the water. There could be some walkways for less aquatic animals, but most of the transportation is through the water; either via swimming, or via motorboats, riverboats, jet skis, and ferries. And indeed, this is possibly what they had in mind judging by the concept art of the canals. I hope to see them implement something like this in the future; this stuff is just insanely cool! In terms of infrastructure, alongside the various docks and warehouses, I’m thinking that it could be a place for aquaculture where all manner of freshwater seafood are raised, as well as plenty of touristy stuff like river cruises. Maybe we could have a boat chase here, or perhaps just a relaxing moment between our leads, or maybe both.

The meadowlands would be a place for more temperate grazers like sheep, horses, bison, and various kinds of deer. It could be akin to a massive park district with plenty of recreation and places to enjoy a bit of fresh air, and its buildings could possibly be like hobbit holes and built into the hills. I’m thinking it could also be a place with a lot of mills to process both food and textiles, and its overall atmosphere could be quite agricultural and country while being in the middle of a city and not having much in the way of crops.

Now on to potential districts

Credit to @florenze

The one that I and many others have thought of the most is a nocturnal cave district. This would be located beneath the rest of the city, and would, of course, have little to no light in order to accommodate its main inhabitants such as moles, mole rats, and bats. This place could have homes on the ceiling and walls for the bats, with various cranes and elevators for the non-bats to get around both to visit, and do maintenance. I imagine bat homes could be quite atypical compared to other species since they’d likely sleep upside down and crawl on walls a fair bit, and if they need to get anywhere they can just fly, so much like the canals, they might not have much in the way of front yards and instead just have elevators and sheer drops on their front doors. Likewise, the less residential buildings could have entrances at higher floors for the bats as well. Entrances to the district could be drive-in cave mouths, as well as big openings for the bats to just fly straight out of to see the other districts at night.

As an opposite to that, I was thinking that a central mountain district would also be cool to see. This would accommodate mountain sheep and goats, takins, pikas, llamas, as well as snow leopards, brown bears, and other mammals who like high and rocky locales. This place could be even more vertical than the cave district, and require either elevators, stairways, or surefootedness to get around, as well as perhaps some oxygen tanks depending on how high it goes. Therefore, cars would be nowhere to be seen, and if anyone wants to get in, they’ll need to park outside, or better yet just take public transportation to allow room for residents’ vehicles. Buildings could possibly be carved out from the stone, and the overall atmosphere could be a mix of the Himalayas and the Andes, and also a bit of the Rockies and Urals.

Regardless of what districts they show us, I would like to see a few more angles to the city than just a bright and clean middle class. Show off its dirty underbelly too, and I don’t just mean more of the street hustlers and thieves like Nick, Finnick, and Weaselton. The first film did an excellent job of showing us that Zootopia wasn’t some perfect society with its discrimination and criminals, and while we did get a nice glimpse of its dirtier side, I want to see more of the run down neighborhoods and their residents. Heck, maybe make poverty an aspect of the plot and a motivator for the villain. Although, they also could also easily cover it with Nick due to the fact that his family was struggling back in the day. Alongside that, I’d like to see high society too, especially the oasis casino that they really wanted to show off, but couldn't find a way to. Show us just how both lavish and run down this city can be.

New Characters

Of all the things I love the film for, its characters and their arcs are probably the biggest things, especially those of the leads. This film has a very diverse cast from a big old cape buffalo to a tiny little fennec fox, and they’re all quite memorable and fun. Now I know what some of you are thinking, “why are you covering new characters before the old ones”? Mostly because I have fewer ideas, but also because the ideas I have for some of the old characters are quite big.

Firstly, I’d like to talk about Nick’s family, starting with his mother. Yes, Mrs. Wilde is already an established character, but I’m still putting her in here since I want to talk about Nick’s family in the same section, and she’s gotten very little characterization; heck, we don't even know her name. She seems like a very nice and supportive vixen from what we saw from the flashback, there was a tweet from Rich Moore that we can infer a fair bit from, and the end of a comic that showed her being a very nice mother and a massive fan of a rock band made of rabbits. Nick is seemingly an only child since no siblings are mentioned anywhere, and they certainly seemed to be financially struggling at some point since he said that his mom “scraped up” the money for the scout uniform, and in the comics he was always extremely short on money and didn’t even have an allowance. Rich referring to her as “Mrs. Wilde” as opposed to “Ms. Wilde” shows that she was/is married and that the husband was probably Nick’s father. The last line of the tweet highly indicates that she and Nick are in contact and on speaking terms (although it really begs the question of where she was during his graduation as there’s not a fox in sight (although there were plenty of seats out of sight and obscured)), and also potentially hints at, uh… Things we’ll get to later. Unfortunately, we don’t know anything more about her. Did she know about Nick’s bad behavior? Did Nick even tell her about the incident with the scouts? Was she ever estranged from him? I’d like for it to be talked about, preferably with her present. I don’t want her to just show up in a call or something, I want her to actually have a scene with her son, and I’d love for her to meet Judy as well.

At least we know a thing or two about her, but we don’t know a thing about Nick’s father that has been confirmed. In one of the original cuts of the film, Mr. Wilde was a tailor who wanted to start up a company with his son called Wilde and Son’s Suitopia and give his kit the best future he could possibly have. Unfortunately, after many attempts at getting a loan to start it up, Nick tried to stop some lemming bankers from denying their loan by trying to grab the stamp from them, was spotted by a guard, and was forcibly and permanently separated from his dad because the city in that cut was was a horrible place full of horrible prey who thought that predators were nothing but horrible monsters ready to blow at any time to the point that they were forced to wear shock collars that would zap them whenever they got even remotely excited. Seriously, screw this setting, it made Beastars look like a freaking paradise. Anyway, back on track. Nick only mentions his mom, so where is his dad? Again, a fair bit can be inferred from the sources on his mother. The simple fact that he wasn’t mentioned in the flashback or the comics seems to indicate that he was out of their lives at that point in Nick’s childhood. Go figure, fans have gone nuts with the possibilities. I’ve seen depictions of him ranging from dead, to estranged, to a genuinely good dad who’s back in their lives now, and a psychotic criminal mastermind who wants Nick to be his heir… Yeah. Out of all those depictions, the loving father one is my favorite. Sure, Rich didn’t mention him in the tweet, but that could have been a simple omission since the question was about Mrs. Wilde. I’ll be honest, my perfect version of this idea is from the fan comic It Should Have Been Me, in which which his backstory and character is almost exactly what it was in the original cut: he was a fabric worker who moved to Zootopia with his wife and son in order to make it big on a tailor business, as he strongly believed in the ideals of the city and wanted to show Nick what a fox could become. He was repeatedly denied a loan, and eventually his obsession with making the business made his wife leave with Nick. After some time, he finally realized that being a role model was not the same as being a father and returned to them. I adore this interpretation for how it shows a family that struggled to stay together for reasons mostly within their control, but still managed to, and are now seemingly happier than ever, something I can’t recall seeing at all in any of Disney Animation’s films (if you know any examples, please list them), and also the fact that Mr. Wilde is a great, likable, and kind of complex character here who is a good man who just messed up as opposed to a simple deadbeat dad I've often seen him depicted as. I want to see something like this out of his father in an official follow-up, but even if he is still separated from his wife, I’d like to see him, and if he’s dead, still give us something; I want to know who this guy is and where he is now, and if there’s anyone else in the Wilde family, I’d love to meet them too, and I want to know how they feel about Nick turning his life around and bucking expectations and stereotypes. His mother is probably exceedingly proud of him, and his dad probably is too if my preferred version is used. Either way, give us a lovely father, mother and son scene (or just mother and son scene, because you know, she’s the only one confirmed to still be around).

On to the villain! The villain should be as opposite to Bellwether as possible; big, male, predator, and not trying to fool anyone into believing that he’s not the mastermind behind anything. We’ll know, at least partially, who this guy is from the moment he’s introduced and what his motivations are early on. Unlike Bellwether, we’ll dive into his character more and more as the film goes on and see what makes him tick. So, what could he want? The idea I’ve conjured up was that he could be a segregationist extremist who sees the founding principles of Zootopia as foolish, believes that this all mammal society is unsustainable, and that all species should completely separate from each other. Perhaps he just wants to get back at the city that he believes wronged him and/or his kind, or perhaps he wants to go back to the wild square one where it’s every species for themselves, and perhaps he thinks that will genuinely be better for everyone. Regardless, I think that this idea would be an interesting continuation of the first film’s ideas of prejudice and living in peace with your neighbor, where this villain would want to bring down the city because he hates prejudice, wants to bring down what he sees as a hypocritical city, and wants mammals to be better off by being separate and under harm. Also, unlike Bellwether who was a power hungry sociopath, this guy will be far more genuine in his pursuit and see himself as a liberator. But as I said, he could very well just be using it all as an excuse for petty vengeance and lashing out at the world in a spiteful rage.

Despite what I said before, I do think that there should be an air of mystery around him. Since he’ll see himself as a demagogue for all animal’s “liberation”, he could conceal himself in shadows during his broadcasts, and also cover himself from head to toe in feature hiding clothes such as a helmet/mask, and specially designed gloves and shoes that hide what his hands and feet look like in order to not show off what species he is. Basically, he could be a twist on the twist villain; he’ll be all mysterious and some could think that he may be a character that we’ve met, but in reality he’s the same character we’ve known all along. As for what species he could be, I was thinking that he could be a less looked at member of a well known family of animals. My best bet would be a smaller and less predatory species of bear like an American black bear, sloth bear, or a sun bear since we saw so many brown and polar bears in the film, and while he’d be small by bear standards, he’d still be quite large, and heck, maybe they could make him particularly large and scary for his species of bear. Also, since he would be a kind of bear whose protein historically consisted entirely of insects (especially in the case of the latter two), he could have extra reason to be angry with society since his kind never wronged prey (although again not quite the case with American black bears since they will sometimes eat fawns and even fully grown deer), but yet he was lumped in with the brown and polar bears. Of the three species I listed, I think the sloth bear would work the best since their protein entirely consists of insects, but, despite their small size and goofy appearance, they’re one of the most aggressive species of bear and have been known to charge at elephants and rhinos at the drop of a hat, and this could play into his characterization as bear Kratos. I think there could be some hints to his species throughout the story, despite how well he may try to hide it. For instance, American black bears when scared tend to do things such as pulsing and clapping their jaws together, while the south Asian bears tend to rear up and stretch their chests out to expose their white stripe. Perhaps he could unconsciously do things like that when particularly agitated or under pressure.

What exactly could make him want all of this? I was thinking that much like our favorite fox cop, he could have experienced much discrimination throughout his life, only far worse, and been downright spiteful instead of rolling with the punches like Nick did. And again, it could have been more pronounced on him since the discrimination was due to “Sins of the cousins” and his kind had nothing to do with any of what they accused him of. A tipping point could have been the Night Howler Crisis, which could have either personally affected him, or just confirmed his beliefs and made him want to go through with his plans to try and tear Zootopia down, and now, about a year or so after that Crisis, his plans can finally go into motion. As for how he’ll go about things, well, he’d go for the hearts, minds and the infrastructure of the city. Perhaps he could broadcast all over to spread his propaganda and instill doubts in in the population (notably in his fellow preds by reminding them what happened not long ago), and also strike fear in those who oppose him. Other than that, he’ll of course go straight for the city’s infrastructure via sabotage and kidnappings. One victim could be the mayor, who this time could actually be a good person and politician, or, as one official comic showed, Lionheart again… Was this an error, or was he seriously canonically reinstated after the shady crap he got up to!?

Anyway, expanding on the idea of the concealing outfit, I’m thinking that his followers (who I’ll just call The Cell for now) could do the same thing with tail hiders, stilts, and padding which would be especially effective for bigger animals to possibly lean over and look like something shorter and fatter in order to make themselves appear roughly the same as to make themselves not see each other as another species for the duration of this insane operation (it also has the added effect of making them harder to differentiate and track). This will eventually be their downfall for reasons you may have surmised, but I’ll explain that later.

Speaking of more villainous characters, I'd like to see a bit more of the criminal syndicates and mobs throughout the city. I'd like to learn who rules what parts of the city, how far their reach goes, and how they operate. Although, we’ll probably only get a glimpse in the film, but we could see the criminal organizations focused on more in a TV series or official comic book, because I think a film would be about a much larger and complex threat that could change the city and characters as we know them.

What about more heroic characters? Well, perhaps we could see the return of concepts from the original pitch of the film like secret agents. Considering that the villain’s plot could be citywide and insidious, I think it would make sense. It could be cool to see conceptual characters such as Skye developed and implemented, and have them helping our leads with the case (or perhaps they could just be a cameo in a movie theater, I dunno, they had a billion other ideas when conceptualizing). I’d like to see her come back because she seemed like quite an interesting concept of a mechanic and badass secret agent (Also, look at that concept art; she's flipping adorable). Perhaps she could be undercover in The Cell, and Nick and Judy could meet her after being ambushed by them. As they’re driving away, Nick gets shot in the shoulder with a dart, but when they reach safety, he realizes that he’s fine. He pulls the dart out and finds that it’s hollow and clear and has a note inside it. They read the note and it includes an apology and directions to a garage in the meadowlands. Later they go to the address and find a light tan fox working on a car. She introduces herself, apologizes further to Nick for shooting him, and then brings them into a safehouse where she gives them vital info on The Cell, and gives them a number to call her at and a few special signals and monikers to help out.

If I were to describe the character I imagine her having, it would be extremely enthusiastic, friendly, and possibly coming off as a little childish, but also intelligent, savvy, and consummately professional and well trained. Basically, a quintessential bunny ears lawyer.

Some people have wanted her to have some kind of past affiliation with Nick, but I’m not sure. I mean, it would be interesting and a good callback to the cut where she was his sidekick, but in this version him knowing someone who just so happens to also be a secret agent would seem a little odd. Then again, he knows everybody. Maybe she’s that mysterious Lady Friend mentioned by Finnick…? (she is a mechanic after all, and he loves his van).

Other than that, I’d love to see the ZPD itself expanded and characterized a heck of a lot more. Maybe we could actually get to know Nick and Judy’s fellow officers like McHorn, Pennington, and Wolfard, and finally see some actual detectives as opposed to just patrolmen, and also get to see the city’s other precincts. I’d love to see the folks at first precinct all working with and respecting our leads, and for all of their strengths to be shown to the max. As in, I want to see them in full SWAT gear conducting a raid; Bogo and the big boys breaching doors, the wolves and cats on marksman duty, and Nick and Judy doing infiltration.

Returning Characters

Let’s start with everyone’s favorite tiny fox, shall we? Finnick wasn’t in the film all that much and only said a total of 37 words (yes I counted), but despite this, he still left a shockingly large impact on audiences for his in your face attitude and vocal dissonance of being a little fennec fox played by a giant former pro wrestler, Tommy Lister Jr (may he rest in peace). And honestly, I flipping adored him too. The creators also liked him a lot and have featured him extensively in newer material such as Zootopia Crime Files, which had him heavily involved in a case and really managed to flesh out his character and specify what his relationship with Nick was like (which is to say, they are genuinely friends), and he even appears as a playable character in Disney Heroes: Battle Mode, and they have said that they wanted to feature him more in a sequel. So what could he do in a follow up? I’m thinking that he could become a major supporting character. I’d like to see him having some genuine friendly times and conversations with Nick and Judy such as going out to eat with them, and also get them out of some scrapes; perhaps by going nuts on a perp that’s threatening them and/or driving them out of a sticky situation. Perhaps he could also help the investigation by acting like an informant or mole (but as I said, in this cut that could already be taken by someone else). Or perhaps he’s gone or will go relatively straight and operate a totally legitimate ice cream shop instead of running a complex hustle. Perhaps he could also act as a shippe- again something we’ll get to later. I’d also like to learn more about him as a person; did he get into the hustling life because of some kind of discrimination like Nick, or is he just a roughhouser who genuinely likes what he does and wouldn’t have it any other way? Who’s this lady friend he mentions? Does he harbor any resentment for Nick for getting off the street and into the force? Obviously it’s not too strong if he’s still giving him Pawpcicles and interacting with him in a cordial way, but is there any there? I’d really like to see. Also, what's his real name? The directors said that Finnick isn't his real name, so what is it? Maybe tell us, maybe don't. As for who could replace Zeus, I’m thinking Kevin Michael Richardson. Whoever they get, I hope he does him justice.

Leave Bellwether out of this; she's served her purpose.

I wouldn’t be mad at seeing Mr. Big return, but I don’t really have any ideas for him. That said, I think that Fru-Fru could be a nice inclusion as a good friend of Judy. Perhaps Judy could hang out with her and do a few things like a little bit of Godmothering for the little shrew bearing her name.

Flash… If he shows up at all, make it a minor appearance, maybe even a cameo.

Bogo was technically the tritagonist of the last film, and I’d like him to remain in a prominent role. I loved his character and evolution in the last film; he starts off barely giving Judy the time of day and repeatedly gets really pissed off at her antics, and also blows off Nick on the simple basis of him being a fox. But he’s an extremely principled and just fellow, and in my opinion, an example of what a good police chief should be, especially since he gets over his prejudices and comes to respect our leads as much as his other officers (which is to say, a LOT). And it’s that respect that I really want to see in a follow up. I want him to send Nick and Judy out on important missions, I want him to trust them with their conduct and intel, and most of all, I want him to protect them and treat them like valuable members of the force. For instance we could see him chew out another officer for talking badly of them, and also risk his life to keep them alive. Speaking of, I also want to see him in action, not just in his office playing with apps (although I certainly wouldn’t complain if we saw him messing around) or showing up after the fact to arrest a perp; I want to see this big bull kicking tail and taking names. Again that prospective swat raid. Other than that, I’d like to learn a bit more about him as a person outside his job, and maybe get a full name.

Benjamin Clawhauser… I don’t have much in the way of new ideas for him other than seeing him interact with Nick. I and many others think that the two of them would be great friends with some awesome banter (and in the Tame Collar cut he was supposed to be one of Nick’s employees at Wilde Times, so they’ve got some of their dynamic figured out already). If I were to imagine Nick's nickname (or I guess we could say Nick Name) for him, it may be Chomps. Other than that, for the third time, flesh him and his backstory out a bit more; he’s a likable guy and I’d like to know more about him. I also absolutely think that he’d be yet another shi- Oh yeah, the main characters!

Nick and Judy

And finally, the part that I’ve wanted to talk about the most; Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps. These two are incredible. I know I’ve already gushed about every last little thing this film has done even remotely right, but these two are genuinely just plain perfection. They’re my favorite cinematic duo ever, and some of my favorite fictional characters ever. Their dynamic, their chemistry, their dedication and adoration of each other, the way they grow because of each other, it’s all just wonderful. If you want more details as to why they’re so wonderful (especially together), check out @beastars-takes post on their relationship and why it’s so darn awesome; there is not an off word in there, offers a lot of insight into the hidden depths that you may not have noticed, and helped me understand these two and the film all the better and gave me the intense love I have for it. Buckle up, these two are the longest part of the essay, because they were the best and biggest part of the movie, and thus I’ve got the most to say.

Honestly, my favorite parts with them were in the last 20 minutes of the film where they are just a perfect buddy cop duo (and ironically enough, weren’t even cops at this point) who clearly had an unbelievable amount of love for each other and even faith in each other while kicking serious butt, and seeing Nick give off that extremely genuine smile upon finally being able to live up to the oath he made as a kid at his graduation was absolutely heartwarming. I want to see more of THIS duo in the next film; a duo of true companions absolutely brimming with charm and endearment who you want to be on screen as much as possible. These two had such good chemistry by the end of the film that many people wondered whether there was something more between them than mere friendship. Were they… Romantically involved? If not, should they be in the future? Many people have been against this idea because they either don’t interpret their relationship that way, and/or they feel that a romance would be cliched and/or forced. What’s my opinion on this whole thing? We’ll get to that soon, for now, let's talk about character focus and development!

I think that Nick should be in the protagonist seat this time, and Judy should be switched to deuteragonist, although she’ll be more in focus than Nick was last time. I want to see how Nick feels about his new life as an officer, his past and connections, his home (does he live in a leaky pipe ridden apartment and sleep in a drawer like in this concept art, or does he live in a better place?), him kicking but with his new training, and as said previously, his family. I want to see him being truly happy and fulfilled for the first time in his adult life, and how it affects him. I want to see the full weight of everything that he’s gained and will continue to have at the forefront of his story arc, and likewise with Judy. I want to see him open up to people more, and I want to see him continue to prove to the world that a fox can be more than a shyster, and heck, maybe he and Judy are becoming something of celebrities from their adventures and maybe the two of them are using their status to help their communities in ways other than police work. Maybe the two of them will visit schools, more run down neighborhoods and communities of stereotyped animals to tell their story and show them what they can become if they believe in themselves and in others. I also want a big emotional scene from him, or at least an adult big emotional scene. While we did see plenty of big emotional scenes from him and certainly saw the depths of what he’s been through, it was Judy who really brought out the most emotion. This time around, I want to see Nick carry the most emotional scene, tears and all. My choice would be him realizing the weight of what he has gained and how much he doesn’t want to lose it. For instance, perhaps they could have a party at the station in honor of their promotions (I'd guess detective given their skill sets) with him, his fellow officers, his parents, and even his and her civilian friends such as Finnick. He’ll sit down next to Judy and his folks with a plate and a cup, and they’ll start conversing. Suddenly, officer McHorn comes up and commends him and Judy for their great work in their short time on the force, and how they deserve to be detectives after all the cases big and small that they've solved. Nick will look at him with a smile as he’s talking, and then notice something: all of the most important people in his world are right there in that room, and each and every one loves, respects, and appreciates him. His parents, his friends, and most importantly his brothers in arms, and especially the one who brought him into the fold and changed his life forever. The realization that he’s achieved the camaraderie he wanted and fulfilled the promise he made in his youth, how he's made people see him for who he is and not what he is, and how whole his life has become from this job and how it will get even better from this promotion hit him like a train and he starts shedding tears. His parents, Judy and McHorn notice. He tries to play it off initially, but he realizes that he has nothing to hide anymore and explains everything. McHorn says he really meant what he said and that he’s an integral part of the PD, and Judy and his folks begin comforting him and eventually Judy says “Oh you foxes, you're so emotional”. Nick gets a big smile on his face and gives her a tight hug, and then chooses to get up on a table and say a big speech of thanks and cheers to his family, friends, his fellow officers, and especially to the greatest gal he’s ever known.

Speaking of the sly bunny, I want to see how the events of the last film have affected her and have shaped her into a wiser person and more effective officer. Much like with Nick, I want to see her continue to buck other’s expectations of her and prove that rabbits can be far more than just meek farmers. I want to see her grow even more street smart, wise, and a better problem solver from seeing all that Zootopia has to offer and from her proximity with Nick. I want her to see more of the world’s complicated problems and for her to start to understand the bad parts of it even more, but at the same time continuing to see plenty of good as well (sometimes, a bit of both). Also, there’s a lot of Zootopia as a city that she still hasn’t seen; species, districts, holidays, you name it. I want a big part of her story to also be her experiencing everything the city has to offer, preferably with Nick at her side, and the wonder on her face. That said, I want the wonder to be shared. I want to see Nick enjoying this city like never before since he can look at it in a whole new light, and do so with the one who made it all possible. And likewise, Judy would feel the same in regards to being able to explore it with the one who changed her for the better, helped her keep her career, learn more about herself, and has continued to be there for her. And again like Nick, I want her to really feel what she’s gained: a great career, comrades who respect her, the ability to help others, and fulfillment of the dream she’s wanted since childhood, and an amazing partner who helped her achieve it all and got all the same things because of her.

And all that of course brings us to the big question. How should their relationship evolve? Well, uh… I think… You see, I… I uh… Well...

This is on the bookshelf in my room

And this is one of my most viewed images on furaffinity (credit to RelaxableFur)

Of important note; I’m not someone who casually ships characters. I may consider the idea of them being a couple when they’re together on screen and have good chemistry, but I’m never like “Oh my god, they need to get together!” (in fact, I was neutral about the idea of WildeHopps until last year when I dived back into the movie), and I’m especially not one of those people who ships characters who obviously have no chance in hell of being romantically involved. I only really get on a ship if I think there’s a strong precedent for it in terms of character plausibility and storytelling potential (and it also helps if they’re absolutely adorable on screen). And in the case of these two, I absolutely think that they hit all three categories.

Now, let’s get into details. Do I think they’re just friends at the end of the film? Not necessarily. Do I think they’re romantically involved? Again, not necessarily. I think their relationship is complicated. As I said, they trust, respect, and care for each other to such an incredible degree that they were willing to do THIS all for the sake of milking the scene and keeping up appearances to keep the bad guy talking (and as you may or may not have noticed, Judy’s nose didn’t move even a bit during the entire act until Nick was right on top of her, whereas before at even the slightest sign of distress it would twitch like crazy), and then just casually laugh about the whole thing while holding each other. Speaking of which, they are clearly very comfortable with physical contact; Judy comforts Nick with some arm caresses

Nick let Judy cry into him and wrapped his tail around her when making up (how else would she step on it)

The two of them share the aforementioned very nice embrace when gloating to Bellwether (yes, Judy had a wounded leg, but the way they’re holding each other and how comfortable they are indicates way more than just physical support)

And there was also this part in the concert…

Y’all thought that was just a hip check, didn’t you!?

There’s also the fact that, while it’s obviously a rather playful exchange, they just casually threw the big, big L out there in their last conversation, and not only that, but the whole thing is delivered in a kind of longing fashion, and depending on the translation the wording gets either more or less explicitly romantic.

As myself and Beastars Takes have stated, they are perfect kindred spirits who have irrevocably changed each other’s lives for the better, and they believed in each other when no one else would. For those reasons they have grown closer to each other than anyone else and can’t get enough of each other. They made each other’s dreams come true, they’re the greatest things that have happened to each other, and they will continue to be so, especially now that they’re together nearly every day of the year since they’re now on the job together. To me, that’s not a will they get together, that’s a when will they get together, and I’d find it more forced if they didn’t become an item (unless their sexualities don’t match, but I doubt that, because again all of their dialogue and physical closeness)

And this officially licensed merch…

And these park character interactions.

And honestly, I think that many mammals will probably think the same way. As I almost said throughout, I think plenty of folks like Clawhauser and Finnick will see the spark between them and be Shippers on Deck. I could imagine Finnick teasing their obvious affection for each other, and Clawhauser could just be his usual self and just make little squees and mental notes whenever he sees them interacting, and there could be a few rumors about them floating around the PD.

So how should their romance develop, and how should their couple dynamic be? Subtly, and not too much of a change from how they already are, respectively. As I said, these two already think the world of and can’t get enough of each other, and I really think that there’s already a romantic spark between them that they just need to think through and expose. I give them half a year on the force before they’re all over each other, a year at most. I don’t think that they’ll even have to make any real confession of love to each other, I think they’ll just have to have the right moment to properly figure out that their relationship already is romantic and/or that it really would be able to work out between them, and actually cement it right there and then. That said, don’t drag the hookup out. Don’t have their entire arc be about them getting together. Don’t have them magically be together at the start of the story, but certainly don’t drag for the whole time. Give us time for them to be the slightly better than best friends we saw at the end of the last film while building up some extra tension, and then have them properly hook up in the second act. But as I said, their dynamic shouldn’t change too much. Again, it’d be more of a realization than a decision since they already have an unbelievably high opinion of and affection towards each other (and they seemingly already know that there’s something between them), and it’d be an enhancement of what they already have as opposed to a change; they’ll continue to be the best friends that they’ve been, just with an extra openly romantic component. Have them be even more willing to show affection both physical (hand holding, cuddling, and kissing) and verbal (more flirtation, and some I love yous). I want this romance to be sweet and unique with a lot more friendly banter, discussion and enjoying more platonic fun stuff (like playing games and joking together), and way less lubby dubby crap. I want their trust and love and respect for each other to be extremely apparent; continue to have it be clear that they think the world of each other and show the reasons for it, and don’t have them be too doting, or at least not that often. That said, absolutely feature some powerful romantic moments like a little dance, or the hookup stated before.

As I said before, I also really get on to a ship if I believe that it can add to the story, and in this case, I really do think it can. I think that their relationship could bring up and/or amplify a lot of strong themes that would complement the first film’s message perfectly. For instance, friendship, love and family not knowing the boundaries of species.

Now, it’s clear that interspecies relationships and marriages are a thing in this city: the directors talked a bit about how society could see their relationship and how Zootopia is probably open to the idea; the first couple that Judy meets in Zootopia are her neighbors Bucky and Pronk Oryx-Antlerson, who are a greater kudu and a gemsbok (they’re also same sex, so that indicates even more societal openness)

There was also an official comic about Flash trying to ask Priscilla out on a date to a movie, but he was too slow and lost out to a Hyena, so that indicates that even predator-prey relationships aren’t widely looked down upon.

However, as the first film showed, Zootopia’s not a perfect society, so they absolutely could receive some nasty stares and insults in the city, and Bunnyburrow Seems to be less open on the whole. Yes, I’m bringing up the ever so popular “Nick meets Judy’s parents after their hookup” idea that hundreds of people have written stories about, but I genuinely think it’s a fun idea, and I’d like to see their reaction to Nick if he’s romantically involved with their daughter, and Nick trying to get used to country life and bonding with a new family. We saw in the last film that Bonnie and Stu are opening up to foxes, and I would imagine that they met Nick around the time of the concert in the credits, but how could they feel about their daughter being with a non-bunny? That could be a fantastic storyline to cover, and it could be a fantastic way to explore that theme of interspecies bonds, and also of families being built on love. That being said, them visiting Bunnyburrow (AKA my hometown in upstate NY: we seem to have an infestation of rabbits here), would be best for a TV series arc or a comic as opposed to a theatrical release, but they could still have the Hopps family visit Zootopia in the film and have many similar things go down. Another scenario could be from Nick’s family. Remember what Rich said about his mother waiting for a grandkit? Does this mean that she actually wants him to continue the family line, or does it mean that she just wants another little tyke to help raise? Either way, she could be an interesting addition to this idea since the creators have specified that they normally fall back on what is scientifically plausible for the film, meaning that Nick and Judy probably wouldn't be able to conceive a child, so they could introduce some hesitance or vice versa into the story through her.

With my previous villain idea, the theme of bonds beyond species could come up quite often. Nick and Judy could become targets of The Cell from the beginning for their friendship, but they could perhaps become more of targets once it becomes clearer to The Cell that they may be more (and because they’re likely foiling their plans). If the villain actually saw proof up close that they were together, he could absolutely lose it and just try to tear them limb from limb. But of course, their bond could also be used to their advantage alongside the villains’ hypocrisy and foolishness. For instance, in a final confrontation. Here’s my prospective scene: Nick, Judy and possibly other characters are surrounded by Cell members who are armed to the teeth and pointing all they have right at them. Everyone in the room is weary from all that’s happened over the course of the film, and are hesitant to start fighting again. Then, Nick speaks up and asks The Cell why they’re still fighting. He brings up the fact that they’re all fighting for the downfall of Zootopia and the separation of all species since they believe that animals only see each other for what they are and are cruel because of it, and that they’re going as far as to hide their species from their comrades to not see each other as separate, but only until the job is done, and then they'll go their separate ways. Of course, why should they see each other as one only for now? They’ve all bonded and seen each other as comrades all this time while not knowing each other’s species; why should knowing what they are be any different? This would result in some taking the plunge and removing their helmets, which would then result in the others seeing what they are. Our leads would tell them that they have not known each other's species this long and yet they’ve bonded together as brothers in arms; why would they want to break that because of stupid differences, and why would they want to use those differences to separate themselves? Some folks can tear and digest meat, some can clip and digest grass; what difference should that make? If they want things to be better, then they must be better, and show those who hate them that things can be better (and for extra effect, Nick and Judy could show off the bond that they’ve gained despite being not just two different species, but predator and prey). One member throws his mask out, then another, and another. More and more continue to throw away their masks and even suits, either because they were convinced or because they see the cause as hopeless, and within a minute the floor is littered with masks and discarded body suits, and the members of the once mighty Cell walk out of the room, many with their arms around one another, and some holding hands, and soon it’s just the leader and the officers alone.

Conclusion

So those were my ideas for a Zootopia sequel. To recap, I want to see even more of the city’s districts and more of its socio-economic angles. I want to see new characters both brand new and from old drafts, and I want an interesting and fresh villain who we can gain a bit of sympathy for. I want to see all of our favorite supporting characters from the first film continue to be great and have expanded roles. And above all, I want our leads to continue to grow themselves and their bond into something even more wonderful. I want to see Nick grow as a person and officer, and I want to see Judy grow alongside him. I want to see Nick’s family and connections, I want how his new life is affecting him, and I want to see him open up emotionally with himself and with those he loves, and I want Judy to continue to grow wiser about the world and everything ugly and beautiful about it, and how being on the force, and with the one she cares about most no less, shapes her into an even more effective problem solver.

So when could we see a sequel? Well, we may have to wait a while longer. While it’s very clear that the franchise isn’t dead, we’ve heard absolutely nothing official on a sequel, and current events at Disney Animation Studios are making it seem like we may have to wait more for one to come. The director and mastermind behind the film, Byron Howard, and the co-director and screenwriter, Jared Bush, are currently working on a musical film currently called Encanto which is set to release in November. Why did they do this instead of going straight for Zootopia 2? Rich Moore, the other head director, had to scramble back to work on Ralph Breaks The Internet after leaving it for a year and a half, and that pretty much left the team in pieces. Considering how much he seemed to want to be a part of the development of a sequel and how they said that they didn’t want to rush it, the other guys seem to have started Encanto to do something new while Rich was busy, and of course shake up their creative juices. However, Rich left the studio in 2019 to join Sony Animation, although he said he left the studio in good hands, and I certainly hope that’s true. Considering that Disney tends to announce films around two years before release, and also tends to have directors work on films released two years apart, 2023 seems like a likely release year, but 2024 would work better for getting a bit more development time into it, get some test screening done and to iron out any possible issues.

That said, the extra year may not be totally necessary. Considering how well developed the first film’s world and characters were, and how much they conceptualized during its production, I don’t think they’ll have to conceptualize quite as hard, and most of what they’ll have to create from scratch will be storylines, themes, character development, and brand new characters, as well as possibly a few districts and species designs. But again, there was so much that they have already made that they just need to show us, as well as so many concepts to fall back on with developing brand new content that even in the conceptual stage that it may have be in they’ll have a relatively easy time coming up with incredible new content; unlike Frozen II & Ralph Breaks the Internet where they had to make up totally new locations, concepts, and everything in between. I’m of the opinion that with all the time that it’s likely been in partial production that the relatively little new stuff that they've had to come up with has probably already been quite refined, and by the time Encanto is done, they may well have something extremely robust and just need to refine it, and then make models and animate it, and give us Disney Animation's best sequel ever. But then again, that extra year may be good for it. But then again, I'm not a filmmaker, so I don't know crap.

And after that, we could end up getting a TV series with further adventures of Nick and Judy, and also flesh out the world even more by showing us districts, criminal groups, precincts, and all manner of other things. Perhaps it could be a police procedural with our leads taking on whatever the city has to offer as well as de showing off more about them and other characters than the films could, and also potentially be a bit of a Segway into the next film (why yes, I think a Zootopia trilogy could be amazing). Thankfully the majority of the cast is made up of accomplished TV actors, so they’ll probably be able to get almost everyone back (but I am hoping for Jason Bateman the most since he IS Nick Wilde and no one can replace him (the same applies to Ginnifer Goodwin with Judy to a very slightly lesser extent)). My hope is that it'll be a D+ original, and thus have an extra good budget that'll hopefully bring in a great cast, and excellent animation and writing.

But anyway, thanks for reading! I hope you all enjoyed my ideas. Was there anything you'd like to add, or anything you didn't quite agree with (or any mistakes I didn't notice while proofreading)? Well then please do discuss them. Until next time, may your battles be won and your day be blessed, and may you be excellent to all those you meet!

#zootopia #zootopia 2 #nick wilde #judy hopps #clawhauser #benjamin clawhauser #finnick #chief bogo #film speculation #film theorizing #disney #disney animation #walt disney animation #wdas #movie essay #wildehopps

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scapegrace74-blog · 3 years

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Ginger Snap, Chapter 5

A/N Know what this fic needs? More Geillis. No really, I think you guys are going to like where I’m going with this. Just bear with me. Only one more chapter to go after this one, plus an epilogue. Thanks for coming on the journey with me! With due credit to Sia, this chapter’s title is Fire, Meet Gasoline.

Previous chapters are best enjoyed on my AO3 page, because I have a bad habit of going back and editing them after they’ve been posted.

Geillis Duncan drove much the way she approached life, which was to say without much regard for rules and at white-knuckle speed. I gripped her Range Rover’s leather cushion and swallowed any exclamations of dismay as we ricocheted through Edinburgh’s late afternoon traffic. When we finally slid into an underground parking spot and emerged into the bustling festivity of the Princes Street Christmas Market, I felt the tension of imminent disaster abandon my shoulders.

“Where to first, then?” Geillis asked, looking far too animated by the prospect of accompanying someone while they did their Christmas shopping.

Geillis and I had kept in touch and met for coffee a few times over the past months. When I explained that I wouldn’t be taking any more cooking classes at Ginger Snap because Jamie was giving me at-home lessons, her reaction was a moonbeam grin.

“Look at ye, wee vixen! I ne’er wouldha thought ye had it in ya, Claire. Tho I canna say as I blame ye.”

No matter how much I protested that I was together with Frank and that my relationship with Jamie was purely professional, she refused to believe me. The ongoing absence of a ring from my left hand didn’t help.

“Now,” Geillis exclaimed once we’d taken in the sights and sounds of the market, “let’s have a keek at yer list. Where should we start?”

I pulled out my phone and opened the Notes app. As she read, my friend’s nose wrinkled in confusion.

“Trouser socks, shoe stays, Moleskine notebook, Rive Gauche... who are ye shopping for, yer grandparents?”

“No,” I protested. “The first three are for Frank. The perfume is for me.”

When I explained that Frank had made a list of the items he would like to give me for Christmas, Geillis grew incensed.

“Ye mean he has ye doin’ his gift buying fer him? Tha’s the least romantic thing I’ve e’er heard. Do ye even like Rive Gauche, Claire? And dinna lie tae me, fer I can read yer feelings all o’er yer face.”

Truthfully, I didn’t much care for the flowery scent. My personal taste ran more towards woodsy or herbaceous aromas. But it was Frank’s favourite, and it pleased me to please him. Or it had. I was beginning to wonder when it would be my turn to please myself.

“Right,” Geillis interrupted my thoughts. “Marks and Sparks will do jes fine for yer wee granny list. And then you and I are going shopping fer yer real gift.”

Geillis was a force to be reckoned with in a retail environment. She navigated like a guided missile from one department to the next. Twenty minutes later, we were back on the pavement, which glistened with the colourful reflections of decorations strung above.

“Your car is the other way,” I explained as Geillis turned left.

“Aye, tis, but our destination is right o’er here. House of Fraser. See? Tis practically calling yer name, Claire.”

Inside the venerable old building was an astonishing multi-tiered arcade reaching over five stories to a massive skylit ceiling. The central space was dominated by a fifteen metre-high Christmas tree (a Fraser fir, of course) and every archway of every arcade was dripping with lights. The impression was like stepping into a Fabergé egg.

Geillis dragged me, slack-jawed, towards the ladies’ wear section. Circling the racks like a hawk on the wind, she eyed my body, sizing me up quite literally, then thrust several pieces into my hands.

“Geillis,” I hissed, wary of the sales staff hovering nearby, no doubt smelling an excessive commission in the offing. “I don’t need a new outfit. And I certainly don’t need,” I shook the garments in question, “something like this. Wherever would I wear it?”

“Well, fer starters, ye’d wear it tae dinner t’night. I dinna wish tae offend ye, Claire, but I canna in good conscience allow ye tae set foot in the Timberyard dressed fer a job interview as a primary school teacher.”

With that she shoved me in the direction of the changing rooms. Deciding to humour her, I was unbuttoning my top when two lacy bits of nothing came flying over the door.

“Start wi’ these. And dinna think I willna notice if ye’re no’ wearing them!”

I stripped down to my panties, bemusedly wondering how she knew my exact bra size.

Upon seeing me exit the dressing room in her choice of clothing, Geillis let out a squeal of delight. She insisted I rip out the tags and leave the store wearing my new outfit, declaring it was her Christmas gift to me.

I felt tremendously self-conscious as we walked towards the restaurant. The aubergine velvet jeans clung to my legs in an unfamiliar way and the black turtleneck, while technically not revealing, hinted at kink with its many heavy zippers and fastenings. Together with my unruly hair, unstraightened for once, I felt like another woman entirely. I didn’t recognize her, but I felt like she might be someone I’d like to get to know.

The Timberyard was a modern restaurant in a rugged old warehouse, not far from the farmer’s market I’d visited with Jamie. We were joined there by several of Geillis’ friends, and we ate, drank and laughed until my sides were sore.

As I wobbled to the loo, I noticed the bartender following me with an appreciative gaze. It had been a long time since a man had looked at me that way, and it gave me a guilty thrill.

We left the restaurant just before midnight. I pulled Geillis into an impulsive hug.

“Wha’ was that for, hen?” she asked.

“Nothing. Everything. Just, thank you for being you, Geil.”

“Och, tis my pleasure, lass. I only want tae see ye happy. Now, what do ye say to a digestif?”

After only a slight protest on my part, the two of us piled into an Uber. Our destination was another restaurant, this time in a converted whisky warehouse by the harbour in Leith. It was well past last sitting, but when I mentioned this to Geillis she explained away my concern.

“I ken the owner, who’s also the chef. Tis a popular spot fer locals in the restaurant scene tae meet after they close up fer a few drinks afore heading home tae their beds.”

Inside, the walls were rough stone, supported in places by industrial metal beams. The kitchen was open to the main dining area, and I grinned as I thought of Frank’s strong opinion on the matter. Near the back of the room, lit by dim naked bulbs and the glow from several open fireplaces, was a huge square table surrounded by nearly twenty chairs upholstered in bright yellow plaid. Around the table was gathered a motley assortment of men and women, all talking and laughing and sipping on a variety of drinks. And in their midst, his copper hair shining in the firelight, sat Jamie.

A shout went up from the table as Geillis approached. I hung back, tugging at the hem of my new turtleneck as though I could stretch it to cover my arse. Besides Jamie, I recognized Jenny, Angus and Murtagh, but I only had eyes for the big ginger chef. He sat at one corner, probably in deference to his long legs which were stretched out before him, wrapped in black denim. A black leather jacket hung over the chair behind him. He looked dangerous. It was a very good look for him.

Dragging me by the elbow, Geillis nudged and bumped Angus to one side despite his vulgar protests, then practically pushed me down into the chair directly next to the chef. With a smug smile of satisfaction, she then retired to the opposite side of the table.

I looked anywhere but directly at Jamie, but I could feel his butane eyes on me. I was certain he would scorch right through my outer layers and down to where Geillis’ choice in lingerie burned against my tender skin. The noise from the rest of the table faded away.

“Ye look bonnie t’night, Arsonist.” His voice was low and gruff and it sent a quickening through my veins.

“Thank you, Jamie. It was Geillis’ Christmas gift to me, and I feel, well... let’s just say it isn’t my usual look.”

“It suits ye, I think.” He reached out and lightly touched the silver tab of a zipper that ended near my wrist, setting it swinging. I swallowed and looked frantically around. Several open bottles of liquor stood nearby. Grabbing the nearest one, I poured myself a generous serving and knocked it back, all in one go. I tried to steady my breathing.

“Look, Jamie...”

Just then a blond man in chef’s whites called to Jamie from across the table. An exchange involving a lot of Scottish cursing and an off-colour reference to someone’s lobster pot ensued. I tried to convince myself I needed to leave. It was late, I was half-drunk, and whatever I intended to say to Jamie should definitely wait for another moment. Maybe never.

A hand on my thigh broke my preoccupation.

“Sorry, Arsonist, ye were sayin’ something?”

I wet my lips, frantically trying to recall anything but the feeling of Jamie’s strong fingers, stroking me through the velvet of my jeans.

“I...”

At that moment, the woman on Jamie’s far side broke into song. The rest of the table cheered and clapped along, and it was impossible to hear anything except the concussive pounding of my heart against my eardrums.

Jamie grabbed my clammy hand.

“Come wi’ me,” he instructed, grabbing our outerwear and pulling me towards the door. Geillis watched our departure with all the excitement of a child on Christmas morning.

Outside the air was dense and cold, a briny slap after the stuffy warmth of the restaurant. Jamie obviously had a destination in mind, and we walked hand-in-hand along the cobbled streets for several minutes before finally emerging at the port. A jetty struck out into the inky sea, and it was there that we ended up. Besides a few gulls and the winking of a nearby lighthouse, we were all alone. The sodium street lights caught Jamie’s curls and made them burn.

“Forgive me, Arsonist. I couldna hear myself think in there. Tho, come tae think of it, tis no’ much better now.” Rather than release me, as he spoke Jamie stroked my hand, running calloused fingers over each vein and every knuckle. I don’t think he even realized he was doing it, but it stole every thought from my head.

“No ring,” he remarked, stroking the finger in question.

“No,” I whispered in response.

And then it burst out of me, like a tidal wave of feeling that I never saw coming. I told him everything. My childhood roaming the globe with my uncle, pre-occupied and rootless, dreaming of stability. Meeting Frank at Harvard, and realizing that he represented all the things that my life to date had lacked: structure, security, a solid foundation, a home. And how it took moving to Scotland and coming into contact with a group of near-strangers to make me realize that the price I had paid for that stability was higher than I’d ever imagined. I’d given up my dream of becoming a doctor. I’d become so lost in Frank’s vision of who I should be that I’d almost lost sight of who I actually was.

By the time the flood of words left me, I was in Jamie’s arms, crying into his leather jacket. He hushed me with quiet murmurs and languorous stroking of my hair, as one would a child who has woken from a nightmare.

I stepped out of his embrace and rubbed my sleeve across my face. I must have looked an absolute mess, but he still watched me with those earnest, patient eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I began, “I don’t know what...”

“Claire,” he interrupted. I’d never before realized just how many consonants were in my given name. “Ye dinna need tae apologize tae me. But ye may want tae consider an apology tae yerself.” At my raised eyebrow, he continued.

“I’m no’ the kind of man tae tell another what they should and shouldna do. But ye strike me as someone who’s made decisions fer the right reasons, yet ended up in the wrong place.” Here he paused, as though carefully weighing his words. “There’s no sin in changin’ yer mind, Arsonist. Tis very well tae be hungry, so long as ye ken what ye hunger for.”

“And what do you hunger for, James Fraser?” The provocative words had left my lips before I had the chance to censor them. His answer came in the form of a blistering look that left no doubt as to its meaning. Then he gathered himself, banking the fire I’d unconsciously ignited.

“Many things. Regular, ordinary things, mostly. My family’s health and happiness. A faster bike. My own restaurant.”

“Like Tom’s there?” I asked, gesturing towards the harbour.

“Och, Tom is a braw chef, and worthy o’ every accolade tha’s been showered upon him. But the hospitality scene in Edinburgh is cut-throat, an’ suitable locations cost a fortune. Nah, Jenny and I want tae buy back our childhood home in the Highlands. Tis called Lallybroch, and when our Da passed, our Mam sold it tae her brother. We’d turn it inta a country inn, wi’ Jenny running the lodging side o’ things and I the dining. Tha’s the dream anyway,” he ended with a shrug.

I rested my hand on his forearm. “That sounds like a wonderful plan, Jamie.”

Before he could reply, an enormous yawn burst from my lungs.

“Time tae get ye home tae yer bed, Arsonist,” Jamie grinned. “Come, I’ll give ye a ride.”

“Wait, haven’t you been drinking?” I inquired as we walked back down the jetty.

“Three years sober,” he explained with no hint of embarrassment. “I went somewhere pretty dark after my Mam died, an’ it took a near-fatal crash tae scare me straight.” His eyes squinted in a poor approximation of a wink as he added, “Besides, there are better ways tae chase a rush than in the bottom of a bottle.”

“Such as?” I asked brazenly.

Which was how I found myself on the back on a black motorcycle, my arms twined around Jamie’s waist. Rather than take me directly home, he steered us north, following the coast. It was very late, with hardly another vehicle about. We merged onto the motorway, and Jamie picked up speed. My thighs tightened around his lean hips, the vibration of the motor beneath us shivering up my spine. As we emerged beneath the hastate lights of the Queensferry Bridge, I stretched my arms wide, icy air ripping against the sleeves of my jacket. I laughed, although no-one could hear me. I yelled, and only the wind yelled back. I was flying.

***

It was nearly dawn when Jamie pulled up in front of my flat. My legs thrummed, my eyes were dry with fatigue, and my heart ached, but I felt better than I could ever remember. I handed Jamie back his spare helmet and shook out my curls. He watched me in that half-sleepy, half-vigilant way of his that I now recognized as desire.

“I don’t know what I could ever say to thank you, Jamie.”

“Ye needn’t say anything at all, Arsonist. Nae matter what ye decide, it has been my very great honour tae get tae know you.”

Without another word, he kick-started the engine and drove off into the early morning mist.

“Goodbye,” I whispered to his vanishing shadow.

***

The lamp above the couch was lit, and Frank lay still beneath its glow. I realized he had fallen asleep waiting for me to come home. Instead of regret, what I felt in that moment was pity.

The sound of my jacket being unzipped woke him. He blinked in confusion and then in shock.

“I’m very sorry if you were worried,” I began.

“Worried? Do you have any idea what time it is? My God, Claire, I don’t know what to make of you these days. You’ve never behaved irresponsibly before, and now you’re out at all hours and you’re wearing,” he gestured wildly with his hand at my new outfit which I had, quite honestly, forgotten I was wearing. “And your hair, Claire!” he finished, as though the manic state of my curls was definitive evidence of my fall from grace. Despite my exhaustion, I stood tall.

“Frank, we need to talk.”

#my writing #outlander #ginger snap

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beigehearts · 3 years

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The Price of Self Respect

Please refer to my master list for the other chapters! There will be ten parts in total, so only four more after this

PART VI

CW: alcohol consumption, mentions of drugs, murder

1,656 words

____________________________________________

You've gotten to drinking with Uvogin and Shalnark, they somehow provide you a sense of comfort in this weird world you're trapped in. It takes half a bottle of vodka and a few shots until you feel that incessant buzz that ravages your body. The three of you sit around the couch area- playing a game of doubt with just the three of you. Yours and Uvogin's laugh rings loudly through the inn- the owner and son not caring since you guys are the only customers at the moment. Your laughter covers up the cough that Chrollo sounds, trying to get your guy's attention.

When he stands next to the table with cards littered around it, you finally notice him. He examines all of the alcohol paraphernalia and clicks his tongue, "So have you been having fun y/n?" He asks loudly, as if you can't hear him over the sound of your inebriation.

You look at him out of the corner of your eye, having a newfound hatred for him, which is quite a change from before. "Yes."

Shalnark speaks up, "She's a lot of fun Chrollo, I'm glad you brought her here." He looks down at his cards, "And she's really good at cards." He sighs, realizing his chances of winning the game are low.

Chrollo seems to have enough of this conversation, eyeing Uvogin sitting way too close to you. So close that your thighs are touching. "Come on, let's go to bed, you must be tired."

"Actually." You say, "I'm not, so I think I'll finish my game." The alcohol seems to be speaking louder than your voice is.

Without even arguing or protesting, Chrollo grabs you by your bicep, pulling you out of your seat. "It's time for bed." He drags you from the common area with you slurring curses at him. You can hear Uvogin and Shalnark booing him from the other room. Once you reach your room, he slides the door open, and drops you on the tatami mat. You drunkenly groan at the short fall, and crawl towards the futon, pulling the blanket back and trying to maneuver yourself inside of the bed.

"You made friends pretty quickly- especially with the troupe that broke your leg." He taps his foot against the mat, watching you struggle to get under the blankets.

"Yes, they're quite nice, and very informative." Your words blend in with one another and Chrollo strains his ear to discern each word. "I even learned that you're more of a stalker than I thought." Finally you settle into the bed, turning on your side, getting ready to fall asleep.

"Excuse me?" He asks.

"I don't appreciate you trying to seduce me after having kept notes on me for almost two years." You sigh, closing your eyes to go to sleep.

You quickly notice the anger in his voice, he's not able to hide it. "I don't appreciate you hanging all over Uvogin either." He sits down cross legged next to you, "Honestly I don't appreciate you flirting with other men."

You take your chance to get under his skin, "It's easier to connect with people who don't know every detail about you."

"You're upset because I love you?"

You open one eye, looking up at him, "You have a twisted view on love."

You don't remember much of the end of the conversation, falling asleep during what you think was an argument. You rise with the sun, it blinding you in the early morning. Strong arms hold you close, too tightly to even move your hips in his grasp. A dull pain pulses through your head, with an endless sense of nausea to accompany it. The night before was fun- though you're not sure that the hangover is worth it. You tap your hand against Chrollo's and speak lightly, "Let me go, I need to shower." As if clockwork, he lets go and flips on his other side.

Before you go to the shared showers, you stand on the deck outside of your room, admiring the authentic rock garden, the water glistening and wind temporarily relieving your headache.

The shower's are nice, towels, robes, and indoor slippers are provided. You undress, dropping your clothes next to one of the stalls. Stepping into the warm water you let out a sigh of relief, thanking life for this sweet relief.

The door opens and you hear another person repeating the routine you've already performed. When you step out after finishing scrubbing your body, a woman steps out of her stall simultaneously. Her hair is in a short black bob, and has a towel wrapped around her bust, hanging just below her waist. You recognize her, you must have seen her last night. Ah that's right, she came into the common room late in the night, and Shalnark introduced her.

"Hi Shizuku." She nods at you, not bothering to speak.

The both of you stand in front of the lockers, putting on the complimentary robes and slippers.

Before you leave the room she clears her throat, "Would you like medicine for your hangover?" She asks.

You send a smile her way and nod.

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

With a cup of hot tea in your hand, you watch the sunrise from the deck of your room, a slight drizzle misting and blurring your view. You can see the sun peeking through the clouds, providing little light. You don't flinch when Chrollo sits down next to you, grabbing the other cup and pouring himself a cup of tea.

"Good morning y/n." He says with a smile, and the plants a kiss on your cheek as if you didn't fight and he didn't threaten to kill his troupe members and blame it on you last night.

You hum in response and continue gazing out at the rock garden, admiring the koi fish and seeing the steam just past the garden, indicating where the hot springs are. Maybe you should sit in the springs, it might make you feel better.

"Last night, I'm sorry for getting so angry." Chrollo breaks the silence. "But don't ever be so friendly with another man. Ever." His jealousy is practically seeping through his every pore, and you know when he says not to be friendly he means it. You know he's not bluffing about hurting someone for being so kind to you.

"You're ridiculous." His eyebrows are enough to show his intrigue in your statement, "You watch me for so long, noting my every move, until you kidnap me. You seduce me and then get upset when I'm angry after finding out about this." You look his way, "You really expect me to return your affection?"

He doesn't respond to your question- knowing it is rhetorical. You're right. And you don't even know about half the things he's done for you- so imagine how you would react if you found out about that. Not well that's for sure. He takes time to process your words, swirling them around in his head so he can bend them to fit his reality he's made.

Dropping the subject completely he states, "We're leaving in twenty minutes, we have a van to fit all of us. We have a mission nearby, I'm going to need your help."

"Why should I help you?"

He frowns, "I can take your nen ability instead if you wish. "

That shuts you up, standing up and heading to grab something to eat from the continental breakfast before you go anywhere.

Fitting all of you into the van is difficult to say the least. Fitting Uvogin, Nobunaga, and Franklin in is practically a miracle. They are definitely going to have back pain once you get out of the van. Chrollo drives and you sit in the back with Machi and Shizuku. You aren't sure exactly of what you're needed for but you'll do whatever is asked of you in order to keep your nen to yourself.

Two hours of laughter and griping from the large men, you all finally stumble out of the van and onto the pavement. There's a large warehouse, and it reeks of marijuana. It must be a dispensary.

"Y/n you need to draw a key that can fit to any lock. I would have the door broken down but there's no physical way of doing that and it's loud. And it's not digital locking so Shalnark can't get us through it."

On command you conjure a pencil, sketching out a key with a malleable end. It begins materializing and everyone watches as it turns from pencil sketches in the air into a real gold key. Only you can use it since it's built from your nen, so Chrollo leads you to a heavy duty door. You put the key into one of the locks, forcing the key to bend and then harden into the shape of the lock. You repeat this three more times and watch as the troupe goes ahead. When you step into the building Chrollo stops you and points to the van.

"Make sure no one comes out, and if they do, eliminate them." You nod hesitantly, and head back to the van, hopping into the driver's seat. You hear gun shots, screaming, and pleas from inside but you have no choice but to listen to the genocide that's being put into play by the man who kidnapped you and claims to love you.

Thoughts of driving away, escaping, and running off enter your brain, but it's not like it would mean anything. They could find you in a matter of seconds if you did.

You come up with a plan on having Chrollo and the troupe trust you and maybe even willingly give you your freedom. You will just have to reciprocate his love until he thinks you love him. But the problem is that you already have feelings for him, maybe Stockholm syndrome will catch up with you first.

#hunterxhunter #hxh #chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo #chrollo x reader #yandere

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Text

Paul Higgs: Baby Daze

Tomorrow I will return you to your regularly scheduled whump programming. Today... this is what wanted to be written.

CW: Teen pregnancy, some crass language surrounding said pregnancy, brief gun reference, some organized crime references

Approximately eighteen years before Tristan Higgs became another casualty of WRU…

"Well, look who’s here! Billy Higgs’s boy, come to see us after school, then?" Sean Malley claps him on the back and Paul nearly stumbles forward, just barely catching himself as he crosses the threshold from the sun-warmed walkway with straggly weeds growing stubbornly up through the cracks into the chilly shadowed warehouse. His sneakers scrape along the ground, but he stays standing.

He's hardly even as big as a stick compared to his dad's work buddies, all older guys with thick muscled forearms and sleeves rolled up to their elbows. He’s never had much muscle on him at all, but then his dad didn’t have much in old photos either. Maybe he’d get some as he got older, if he worked here. If they let him. "How’s things, hm? Keeping your grades up?”

Paul smiles, a slightly strained expression. The smile is automatic, it’s what everyone expects with small talk. At school he mostly doesn’t even bother with it, but with his dad’s friends… well, a smile’s polite. Right? Friendly.

He tries to look more friendly. He needs them to say yes to what he’s about to ask for.

“They’re fine,” He says, squinting as his eyes adjust to the change in light. “Same as always, A’s and B’s.”

Mostly B’s, but they don’t need to know that.

“Good, good.” Sean slides an arm around his shoulders, jovial as always. Paul tries not to be visibly uncomfortable at the touch. Everyone is always touchy, in the world, and he’s never liked it much. Except with Ronnie, but… that’s different. “So, talk to us, Paulie. What's got Billy’s boy mucking around here at the Garden with the old-timers?"

It's not actually much of a garden, unless you count the dandelions in the sidewalks and the bits of scraggly grass along the edges of the pavement as your rows of plants. Instead, the big warehouse stretches wider than two Walmarts, chopped off into pieces by the standalone temporary walls inside that don't reach the ceiling.

The ‘Garden’ is a place where things happen that no one with a badge is ever supposed to see. There's shouting, good-natured calling out of sums and figures and code words Paul doesn't know, bouncing and echoing in a constant chaos of sound. Metal scrapes, an odd clicking Paul vaguely recognizes but can’t quite place until he thinks of his dad cleaning his guns now and then at night, carefully putting them back together once he’s done.

All that noise lays heavy like a blanket over his skin. He pushes past it - he's got a reason to be here, and he won't let Ronnie down. He can’t let her down.

"I'm here to work," He says, going for strong and loud. He doesn't change expression when the men around him laugh.

He doesn't think their laughter is meant to be unkind, and besides, he doesn't really care if it is. These men have all known him since he was born - if anyone’s going to give him what he needs, it’ll be them. "My dad told me I could pick up some shifts this weekend as a lookout, that you pay cash at the end of the shift, right away. That I could get a couple hundred if I’m good at it, maybe five if I do some running, too.”

"Oh he said that, did he?" Sean meets eyes with Cilly, whose real name Paul has never learned. He isn’t entirely sure anyone here has ever given him their real legal name. Not even Sean. "Will might've let the family know first before he sent his boy here, hm?

"Well, it's. It's important I get cash. Um. Fast. I just spoke to him, probably he'll call you in a bit thinking he's giving you a warning." Paul tries for another smile, and hopes it's warm enough. A bit of coppery strawberry blond hair falls over his green eyes as he looks hopefully from man to man.

He's not even eighteen yet, but really, isn't that even better for a lookout? He knows where they do their business, he knows who to watch for, and he doesn’t look like he’s one of them at all. He's paid attention, sat up at night making maps of where they work and what they do. He knows they’ve gotten into business with WRU, even, the big Facility up in Berras has been sending people down here now and then. He’s good at this sort of thing. He knows he can do this. He’s going to make a living at this one day, and everyone starts somewhere.

He just… has to convince them. These men aren't unreasonable, and they're family. Well, sort of. In a way. In that they all commit crimes with his dad. And some of them actually are real family, although he’s not always sure exactly who.

"What d'you need cash for that can't wait for your parents to come back from Florida, then?" That's Cilly, scratching idly at a red spot on his face, sipping a mug of hot tea like they're at a kitchen counter and not a fold-out table by a warehouse door. The others all have takeout coffee cups, but not Cilly.

Paul's mom buys him new mugs on all her vacations. A gentleman among thieves, she said once.

Nah, Paul's dad had said. Just a thief. But he puts on airs for you.

All the more reason to show him my appreciation, Bill.

The mug he’s drinking from now was one of Paul’s mom’s presents to him. It has a little palmetto tree on the side and Nothin’ Could Be Finer written in swirling script. It came from a trip to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina when Paul was seven.

He hated that trip. He never liked sand. Or the ocean. Or the noise of all the people everywhere in the street. He would have been happy with a book on the couch in the condo if they’d have let him stay there.

"They're not in-"

"Think they're in Georgia," Conor pipes up, the oldest with hair gone nearly gray, cousins to the real boss, a man Paul has met maybe three times and knows only as Mr. Sondheim - which isn’t even a little bit his actual name.

Conor makes Paul’s skin prickle, the way he thinks maybe a cat feels when it sees a mean-looking dog across the street. Paul's dad came home once with blood he had to wash off his hands and a shirt he had to throw out. When Paul asked, he said only, Conor's temper is going to get someone who matters killed one day. Too bad his grandson's as bad as he is. "Aren't they?"

"Nah," Sean says, shaking his head. "Florida. Definitely Florida."

"Actually," Paul starts. "They're in-"

"I thought Texas," Cilly says, almost thoughtful. He interrupts Paul thoughtlessly, and Paul’s face colors a little with embarrassment. He feels like the odd man out in a conversation meant to be about him.

"They went to Alabama," Paul finally says, soft. Thinking no one’s listening, but they all look at him then. That's worse than when they weren't paying attention at all. He never meets any one person's eyes, instead focusing on Sean Malley's forehead, a spot that'll look like eye contact without having to be it. He's never liked having to look too many people in the eye.

Or anyone, actually.

"Ah, all right then. Alabama. Well. What couldn't wait for them to get back from Alabama, Paulie-Wol?"

No one's called him Paulie-Wol since he was eleven - and he hated it then. He blushes even darker. He's always been easy to make blush, and they laugh again. It's a little meaner this time. He has to not care. It’s important not to care, so they’ll let him work.

Paul Higgs straightens his narrow shoulders and pulls a crumpled but of paper, shiny on one side, out from his back pocket. "This is why. I need money. Fast. For this."

He can't help how his voice dips, hushed, almost in awe. Sean is the first to take the little piece of paper, eyes widening in surprise at what he sees, before he hands it to Conor, who whistles through his teeth. Cilly takes it next, with a soft exhalation that's either curse or prayer.

With this group, it could be either. Or both. Paul’s dad always says God doesn’t care overmuch about the difference.

"You're a bit young, aren't you? To need money for this?" Sean asks, and he's… concerned, Paul thinks, and he tries to square himself up even taller. “What’re you, Paulie, fifteen?”

"S-seventeen. It’s-... we didn’t plan on it, Sean, it just happened." This time when his face stays red, heat burning under the smattering of freckles across his cheeks and nose, they don't laugh. All their smiles are gone, too.

They've gone serious, these men who aren't quite blood but might as well be. They aren't laughing at or with or because of him. They look worried about him.

"Paulie," Conor says, shaking his head. "Paulie, you know better than this. Don't they teach you how to make sure this shit don't just happen? Thought we’d stop having teenagers knocking each other up once we got past the eighties.”

"They did. I had a whole health class where we-... but it doesn’t matter, it still. Happened, okay?" The absolute last thing he wants to do is talk to these old guys about Ronnie, and why, and when. If they ask him he’ll melt into the floor, and die, and just be dead right here and now.

“So, when you say you need money… Are you looking to drive her up to Berras?”

“No, that’s not... We talked about it, but she said she already thought about it and made her decision. This isn’t… Don’t look at me like that. I like her decision. I’m happy.”

“You are?” Sean blinks, surprised.

“Yes! I'm happy, so don't tell me I fucked up, because I did. I know I did, but… but I talked to Ronnie, and we have a whole plan and I need money for my plan. And just. Look at it.”

Sean glances back down, taking the paper back, smoothing it out. Shiny on one side, it's a printed black and white image, a smeary blur of monochrome shades. Unmistakable in its center, more or less, is a gently rounded blob of white, topped with another and with other little blobs coming off its sides. Labeled along the top is Baby Botham, 14 weeks 3 days.

“Botham?” Sean asks, head cocked to one side.

“That’s… that’s Ronnie’s last name. She, uh. She didn’t tell them… Because we’re not married.” Paul squares himself up again. “Yet. We’re not married yet.”

He tries not to think about Ronnie crying on his shoulder about how her parents and her sister had screamed at her when she told them, that no one was talking to her and they might throw her out, like this. His throat will close up if he does, in hurt for her, and in anger.

His own parents he’d just told on the phone today, heard the long silence on the other end. Whispers that didn’t quite carry through the line. Then his mother had said, brisk and no-nonsense as always, So what does Ronnie want to do? We’ll help however we can. Will she need somewhere to stay?

“You’re not married yet,” Cilly repeats, not with derision, just with a kind of flat uncertainty. “You’re seventeen, Paulie. Little young to be talking marriage, don’t you think?”

“Well, we’re talking it, anyway,” Paul says firmly. “And don’t tell me it’s stupid. We already made our minds up.”

“Well, far be it for me to question your judgement,” Sean deadpans. “Since you’re clearly making excellent decisions already-”

“I got married at sixteen,” Conor points out. “Wife and I been married forty-two years this December, too. Sometimes it works out.”

“Different world, different times,” Cilly counters, and Conor has to nod in agreement to that. “Lots of those didn’t work out either, now did they? Besides, kids got options now we didn’t have back then.”

“Ronnie doesn’t want those other options,” Paul says, forcing his voice to be loud enough to carry, surprising all three men, who give him a new kind of look. Maybe even seeing him as nearly a man and not a kid, just for the moment. “She doesn’t. I never told her to do or not do anything, we talked about it, and she knows what she wants to do, and I agree with her. Ronnie and I want to get married, and we’ll need somewhere we can live when-... when the baby comes. So I need to start making money. And I want-... I need some fast, this weekend.”

Cilly’s expression goes cold. “Don’t tell me your folks are making you find a place that fast. I’ll take Billy to the woodshed myself if he’d be such a bastard to his own kid when things get tough-”

“He’s not,” Paul says quickly. “They’re not. Mom and Dad aren’t-... but they get it, they’re helping us. It’s not for an apartment, not yet. It’s so I can buy her some stuff.”

"This is a serious thing," Sean says, and he rubs his thumb over what Paul is pretty sure is his baby's head. The blobs are all sort of odd to look at, but… he's pretty sure that one's the head. It’s where he would put the head, if he were designing a person, anyway. "But I can see you’re quite the serious young man, now. What sort of stuff are you lookin’ to buy, Paulie?"

Paul swallows, nervously rubbing his palms along the seems on the outside of his pants. “I… I don’t know. What do you buy someone who’s pregnant? I thought, like, baby clothes? Or a crib?”

“No, no, no.” Sean shakes his head. “You can’t just get her baby stuff, not this early. You are not starting with a crib, Paulie. You got nowhere to even put one yet.”

“Then… what do I buy?” Paul looks from man to man. “I’ve never known a pregnant person before, not anyone I cared about.”

“You were around for my wife’s last pregnancy,” Sean says, mildly offended.

Paul shrugs.

The three older men look at each other, and then sigh nearly as one. Someone pushes out the fourth chair from the fold-up table and Paul sits, each of the other men sitting in turn. Sean picks up his phone and dials. “Hey, Don. Let everybody know we’re off-limits for the next couple hours, ‘til lunch. Yeah, Billy Higgs’s boy stopped by. He’s sniffing around for some lookout work this weekend. Find him some decent jobs for me, will you?”

Paul starts to smile, and it’s genuine this time. Sean hands him back the little picture of the blob that will become a baby, his and Ronnie’s baby, and he tries not to crumble it fully in his hands, worried his sweat will smear the ink. She’ll get another one in a few weeks, said her doctor told her it’ll look more like a person, then. Less like a weird frog. Or like a really, really bad painting.

“Thanks, I’ll owe you.” Sean hangs up the phone and grins, leaning on his elbows on the wobbly little table. The sun shines warmly through the open warehouse doors on Paul’s back. “All right. Between the three of us, we’ve got, what, ten kids?”

“Yeah, but five of those are all Cilly’s,” Conor points out. “And mine stopped bein’ kids decades ago.”

“Yeah, but babies don’t change, and they don’t need much. You need a pen and paper to write things down, Paulie?”

“Write… write what down?”

“What you’re gonna spend your money on, for your girlfriend. You don’t just show up with baby clothes, kid, you gotta go all out. Let’s talk date, let’s talk gifts for this Ronnie, let’s talk it all out.”

“What to Expect When You’re Expecting,” Cilly says. “They all get that book, right? Isn’t that the one?”

Sean snorts, derisive. “Don’t get her that, not this early. That damn book had my wife in fucking tears telling her everything that could go wrong. We need to think of a happier book than that.”

“Well, call your wife and ask her what she’d want, then.”

“Maybe I will.”

“You should!”

“She’s liable to start planning a damn baby shower if I do. You know how Christa is about little ones.”

Cilly grins. “Think she’ll make those deviled eggs I like for the shower?”

“Cilly, for God’s sake, we found out about this five minutes ago.”

“Right, but... deviled eggs.”

Paul takes a deep breath, and sits back in his chair. “I’ll remember, whatever you say. I promise. I don’t need to write it down. Just tell me what I should get her, what I should do.”

“Right. Well, then.” Sean spreads his hands. “Let’s talk gifts.”

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump , @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @vickytokio @whumpiary @orchidscript @moose-teeth @nonsensical-whump

#original fiction #chris the strawberry blond romantic #paul higgs #ronnie higgs #the past #a very special flashback episode #teen pregnancy tw #mob stuff #brief gun reference #fluff #honestly I just wanted to explore Paul as a character because you don't see much inside his head or get much of a feel for him #writing #writeblr #whumpblr #bbu #box boy universe

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