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writersblog20 · 1 year

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A Christmas break🎄

Jamie Campbell Bower x reader

Credits to gif maker and the picture

Summary: Jamie comes home for a Christmas break. You spent Christmas eve together and with your family. You never liked Christmas but maybe Jamie will change that….

Warnings: pure fluff!

Words: 3,4K

A/N: I’m going to make a follow-up to this story but can be read separately. Since this is someone new I write for, I’m not tagging the people that wants to be tagged in stories with other celebrities. If you do want to be tagged in my Jamie stories than you can hit me up and I’ll add you : )

A Christmas break

Finally Jamie had a break between Christmas and New Year. You were esthetic to say the least because Jamie would finally come to you. You would take him home and to your family. It would be the first time that he would actually see your family in real life. I mean, they already met but through facetime and now they would actually meet.

You were never a big fan of Christmas and New Year’s eve but now you couldn’t be more excited now that you have Jamie by your side. Besides that, you couldn’t wait to spend some alone time with him and Jamie was just as excited as you were, hyping each other up.

You waited impatiently at the airport for Jamie. You were shuffling around a little while the excitement creeped up in your belly which doubled when you saw a familiar hat coming through the gates. You immediately smiled as you saw Jamie pushing his card out of the gates. He looked around but he found you quickly and when he saw you, his eyes started to sparkle and he got a big smile. He opened his arms and you ran to him, throwing your arms around his shoulders. He picked you up and twirled you around. “God how I’ve missed you, darling.” He told you and placed multiple kisses on your head until you looked up and closed the gap between the two of you in a quick but nevertheless, passionate kiss.

You parted and looked at him with a big smile, which he replicated. “I’ve missed you too!” you told him and wrapped your arms around his waist again. He placed his arm around you and hugged you close to his body. “Let’s go home.” You told him, looking up with sparks in your eyes. You couldn’t wait to show him around in the town that you grew up and do all the fun, traditional things with him. He smiled brighter and pulled you in for a kiss again. “Let’s do that, love.” He told you and took your chin between his fingers, giving you another kiss. He got the trolly and pushed it forward, you by his side.

You chatted a bit about his flight and his last convention until you reached your car. You put everything in the back and drove home. Jamie placed his hand on your thigh while you drove off. You felt the butterflies creep up on you again. You’ve never had a healthier relationship than this one and he never failed to make you feel special and loved.

The ride home didn’t take long and you helped Jamie, get everything out of the car. He took a lot of stuff with him, like a lot! He saw you looking and Jamie smirked. He put the luggage down for a minute and turned around towards you with a smirk. His fingers found your chin again and you were forced to look up. “You don’t think I forgot about the presents do you?” he asked you teasingly and giving you clarity about why he had so much with him. You could feel yourself melt underneath his touch and sweet gesture, making you feel shy and flustered again. He chuckled and let go of your cheek before he gave you a kiss on your forehead.

You helped getting everything inside and helped him unpack. You placed his clothes in your closet. Jamie placed his arms around you all of a sudden and pulled you against his body in a hug. “I have missed you so much sweetheart.” You smiled and nuzzled into his shoulder. “I’ve missed you too, you have no idea.” You murmured, enjoying the contact you had right now. He got out of the hug and cupped your cheeks so he could give you a passionate kiss. “I think we’re done here right?” he asked you as he broke from the kiss and looked at his empty suitcase. You nodded and smiled. “Let’s get something to drink and cuddle before we have to leave to my mom.” You suggested and Jamie smiled, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “That sounds great, darling.” You loved how clingy Jamie could get because you would be the same.

You took his hand in yours and let him down the stairs. You made some tea while Jamie placed his arms around your waist and let his head rest on your shoulder. While you waited for the water to boil, you jumped on the counter, putting your arms around Jamie’s shoulders, hugging him. “I want to give you something. I didn’t bought it for Christmas so I want to give it to you now.” he told you with a smile. Jamie had brought a big box with him and you were wondering what was in it from the moment you saw it being placed in your car.

Jamie let go off you and walked to the big box and looking back at you as a hint for you to come to him. It was wrapped in Christmas paper and a big red bow. You chuckled and Jamie immediately smiled brightly when he heard your giggle. You looked at Jamie again and he nodded, encouraging you to open it. You smiled and unwrapped the box before opening it. There was a big, like really big teddy bear completely pushed into the box. You chuckled and got it out, realizing how big it actually was. You couldn’t stop giggling. Jamie knew how much you loved teddy bears or plushies in general and you both joked about the plushies that they were never big enough.

“Is this one big enough, darling?” he asked you, chuckling himself. You nodded and threw your arms around him. “Thank you so much!” he chuckled and kissed your head. “Go look what he is wearing.” Jamie whispered in your ear. You let go of Jamie and inspected the teddy. He was wearing a big Stranger Things sweater that you pointed out a couple of weeks ago. “Oh my god Jamie. I love it! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he chuckled, seeing your eyes sparkle at the gift. “I’m glad you like it love.” He told you and kissed your lips.

You both struggled to get the sweater of the huge teddy bear, both laughing in the process. The bear was almost the same length as you were and you loved it. You finally got the sweater of the teddy and you immediately put it on. It was even some extra sizes bigger because Jamie knew you like your sweater a couple sizes bigger. The sweater smelled familiar and you looked at Jamie. “I put some of my cologne on it so it smells like me.” he told you and you could almost feel your heart burst. You just hugged him and he smiled softly, knowing you were happy with his gift.

You both drank some tea and cuddled on the couch until it was time to get dressed. Your mom said that tonight it would be casual so the smell of food wouldn’t get into your clothes. You put on your outfit that was inspired by Wednesday Addams. The turtle neck with the spencer in black and white. You were absolutely in love with your outfit. Jamie wore his hereditary shirt and lied down on your bed while you were doing your make-up. He held his head up by his hands, elbows on the bed while he stared lovingly at you, snapping a quick pic of you.

“I really love your outfit darling. It suits you.” he told you adoringly. You smiled and felt flustered. You were done and walked to Jamie, who pulled you down on your bed and attacked you with kisses, making you giggle. “Jamieeee….. We’re going to be late.” You whined but your chuckles gave you away. Jamie laid down on his back, his arm stretched out on the bed as he sight dramatically, making you chuckle. You hang above him, surprising him. You smiled and kissed him. “There is that better?” you asked him with a chuckle. “Much better, love.” He told you and got up from the bed with a smile. “Let’s go than.”

You packed your car with all the presents and drinks. You looked at all the presents and chuckled. “We both really went shopping didn’t we…” you chuckled as Jamie stood next to you, looking at the presents as well and chuckled. “I think we did….” Jamie laughed. He reached for your hand and held it. “But I wanted to spoil you.” you felt your cheeks heat up. “I did too.” Jamie smiled and kissed the back of your hand. “Shall we go than princess?” he smirked, knowing the effect it had on you with the pet names. You felt your cheeks heat up and nodded. “Let me drive this time sweetheart.” He told you. You agreed and sat in the passengers seat. Jamie’s hand was resting on your thigh again as he drove to your mom’s house and her boyfriends while you both sang your heart out when running up that hill came up the radio. Your heart was already filled with so much joy that you felt all fuzzy inside.

You arrived at your mom’s place and her boyfriend helped you both getting everything out of the car after Jamie introduced himself to him. You smiled softly at the interaction as you both walked in. You greeted both of the dogs happily before going to your mom, who was in the kitchen preparing food. “Hi mom” You greeted her and gave her a hug, which she returned. When you got out of the hug you looked at Jamie who smiled and reached out his hand so he could properly introduce himself but your mom already pulled him into a hug. “Come on now, we’ve spoke before!” your mom teased.

Jamie was nervous, you could tell but when your mom hugged him, he started to feel more relaxed and welcome. You all decided to get a drink before getting back to the food after you put all the presents around the tree and where there was still some place because it was a lot. You all chatted and laughed while drinking some alcoholic beverage. You held Jamie’s hand underneath the table as you thumb softly rubbed the back of his hand for comfort. His nerves hadn’t left completely so you wanted to make sure he knew that he was welcome here.

After a drink, Jamie chatted with your mom’s boyfriend as you helped your mom in the kitchen with the food. You looked over at Jamie and he looked back at you, giving you a soft wink to let you know that everything was okay. You smiled softly and your mom noticed. “You guys are a good fit. I really like him.” she told you and you felt flustered again. “Yeah, he’s really great.” You told her with a smile. “So.. You think he’s the one?” she asked you and you smiled. “I know he’s the one.” You told her as you looked at Jamie but you noticed that he heard you as he got one of the biggest smiles and you saw him blush, getting shy and flustered himself.

You felt flustered, knowing he heard you. You tried to focus back on the food until the son of your mom's boyfriend came out of hiding from his room. You greeted him and Jamie did too. When the food was ready, you all gathered around the table, you sitting next to Jamie obviously.

After dinner, you all chilled for a bit until dessert and after some more relaxing. The tv was on with a radio station where they play songs that are in the top. They would end it on New Year's Eve and it was very much a tradition in your country to listen to it. After dessert, you slowly started giving the presents to each other. It was mostly small things but you loved every one of the gifts. You made Jamie a t-shirt which you designed. You were a graphic designer and he loved your work so you made him something unique and he absolutely loved it. You got some perfume, things for in the bath, a blanket which you could put your arms through, a very big onesie from Jamie as a care bear. You chuckled and immediately gave Jamie his other present. You giggled, knowing what was already in it.

He eyed you with a smirk and opened the present, seeing it was a onesie from one of the care bears as well. You all laughed and Jamie pulled you against him kissing the side of your head. “I love you, darling.” He whispered. You felt fuzzy inside by the way he looked at you. “I love you too Jamie.” You unwrapped more presents (god you all went really out this year with the gifts.) You gave Jamie concert tickets for the two of you, you got a lot of chocolate and small stuff. You felt so content and happy right here in this moment, you couldn’t remember when you were this happy on Christmas eve or day.

After all the presents, you all had a drink before heading home. You hugged everyone, just like Jamie and packed everything in the car. Jamie wanted to drive again so you sat next to him. He held your hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. “I really enjoyed this.” you told him and he looked over at you. “I’m glad you did. I know how you can feel about Christmas and I wanted to give you the best one.” Your heart was melting at the sweet gesture. “You did. This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had and not because of the presents but because of you.” Jamie couldn’t stop smiling and kissed your hand again.

When you arrived home, you were both exhausted. You put the presents on the table for a minute, not having the energy to unpack it right now. You both headed upstairs to put your matching Christmas pajamas on, which Jamie gave you. You both stood in front of the long mirror. Jamie had his arm around you as he pulled you closer to his body. “Let’s make a Christmas photo.” Jamie suggested and you laughed, finding it a great idea. “By the Christmas tree?” you asked carefully, making Jamie smile adoringly at you, his eyes radiating nothing but love. “By the Christmas tree.” He repeated you, making you smile shyly.

You both walked downstairs and placed the phone down for the picture. You took multiple pictures until you both got into a laughing fit. When you were done, you both looked at the pictures that had been taken. “I love them!” you told him as you scrolled through the pictures. You chose the one where you both laughed hysterically and the one where you looked into the camera and Jamie looking lovingly at you and the third where Jamie gives you a kiss on your cheek.

Jamie and you posted them on Instagram before you went to the kitchen to make some tea. Jamie walked up behind you. “Darling? I have one more present for you…” he told you and you turned around a bit surprised. “Oh Jamie, you didn’t have to….” Jamie smiled and shook his head. He gave you a perfectly wrapped box to you that he held behind his back. You looked up at him still a bit surprised. “Open it” he told you encouraging you again. You carefully unwrapped the present and you saw the box. Your mouth fell slightly open, not believing what he actually got you.

You got the paper completely away and held the box in your arms. It was a camera. Not just a camera but the one you were saving your money for. You were saving this for over a year and a half now and Jamie just gave it to you. you couldn’t believe it and felt tears prickle in your eyes. Jamie smiled lovingly at you, his eyes radiating nothing but love. “Now you’re not limited anymore. You can show the world your talents. I believe in you darling.” The tears slipped. ( you were a concert photographer and was stressing about the pictures because it was a basic camera, not really doing well in low light situations which caused you so much stress). You threw your arms around Jamie and cried. You never really cried about a present but this meant so much to you and Jamie knew that “Jamie….. I…. I don’t know what to say….. Thank you so much! I can’t thank you enough.”

Jamie chuckled and held your chin between his fingers again. “Darling… seeing you smile like this is already enough for me. You deserve it! You’re so talented but were limited by your other camera. Now you are limitless and I know you’ll be great. Big even!” he told you and placed a kiss on your lips before softly wiping away the tears on your cheeks. You chuckled emotionally and cupped his cheeks, pulling him back in a passionate kiss.

You both were exhausted and plopped on the couch with the tea. You put the grinch on while Jamie started reading the book you gave him, which was your favorite. You laid stretched out on the couch while Jamie let his head rest on your stomach as you went softly through his hair with your fingers. You forgot about the movie and stared at Jamie who got a grin, noticing you were staring. “You’re staring darling.” He told you with a smirk but his eyes never leaving the book. You felt flustered but didn’t stop looking. “I’ve never felt more complete than I do now.” you told him honestly.

Jamie looked at you and placed the book away, turning on his side with his head still resting on your stomach, looking at you with a loving smile. “I believe you’re the one as well, love.” He told you, making you smile. “I’ve never felt this for someone. My love grows with the minute and it’s never been this strong for you my love.” You felt shyly. Jamie cupped your jaw with his hand, his thumb softly rubbing your cheek. You both just stared at each other lovingly, enjoying the intimate moment the two of you shared.

“Let’s go to bed, princess.” He told you and helped you up from the couch. You both got ready and plopped in your bed. Jamie rested his head by your shoulder, his finger slowly tracing your arm and drawing invisible patterns. You turned around so you could face Jamie. Your fingers softly tracing the features on his face before you both lazily made out. “Merry Christmas darling.” He whispered softly. “Merry Christmas Jamie.” You smiled. You snuggled closer to Jamie before falling into a deep, peaceful sleep, happy that Jamie was by your side again.

~Next morning~

You slowly woke up, blinking your eyes a few times while you were still wrapped in Jamie’s arms. You lifted your head up a little bit and could see that it was snowing through the blinds. You smiled, feeling once again all fuzzy and content as the warmth hugged your heart. You looked at Jamie who was peacefully sleeping and quickly snapped a pic. You couldn’t let this perfect moment go uncaptured.

Once you did that, you felt Jamie pulling you back in your place, right in his arms as he murmured. “Let’s stay like this for a while, my love.” You smiled and snuggled closer into the warmth from his body. “I’d like that.” You whispered back as he kissed the top of your head. Jamie pulled the covers more up as you closed your eyes again, enjoying this perfect morning on Christmas day.

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nat-seal-well · 9 months

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It's Saturday, which means it's my Friday! I'm going to a little expo/convention/thingy at the fairgrounds tomorrow to look at dead things (i.e., taxidermy stuff and fun spooky things) and it's been a very long week, so I'm posting an(other) unasked-for snippet from a fluffy one-shot I started last night.

Felix grabbed Marin by the hand to drag them away. When Ava asked where they were going, he told the rest of the unit to go on without them. They would “catch up.” There was still work to be done before either of them would be ready, and it would look bad if all of Unit Bravo was late, wouldn’t it?

Even Ava couldn’t argue with that, in the end. Nat pressed a kiss to Marin’s cheek and promised to see them later, and then they were hauled off against their will by an overeager vampire.

That was the last time Nat saw either of them, until five minutes ago.

When they walked in, Felix went on ahead. He spotted Nat immediately, and gave her a bright grin and two thumbs-up before vanishing into the crowd. At least, as much as one can while wearing a bright yellow hat and scarf to match, over his formal suit.

Marin was left standing at the door. Nat moved to join them, but was stopped only a second later by the agent she hasn’t been able to shake since. Polite brush-offs, Nat’s greatest weapon, have done nothing to get him to look for another conversation partner. She fears she may have to stoop to flat-out curtness. Nat hasn’t had to use that in years.

“You’re a linguist, right?” the agent is saying. She thinks he’s human.

His eyes haven’t strayed from her bare shoulders since he sidled his way up to her. Or her neck line.

Across the room, Marin presses themself into the corner as much as they can. Someone handed them a glass of champagne at one point, but it’s gone untouched, and they seem to be using it more as a prop than anything else. They’re avoiding eye contact by watching the bubbles in the glass.

Nat thinks they look miserable.

“I took some German courses in college, you know…”

Manners be damned, she thinks, with increasing frustration. When niceties don’t do the job, there isn’t much left for her to use. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

“I’m afraid I have to leave,” Nat says, cutting him off with as she forces a smile on her face. “Immediately.”

The human agent blinks. “I’m sorry?”

Yes, you should be, though you don’t know it. “My partner is looking for me. I’d rather not leave them alone.”

“Your partner.” A look of disappointment crosses the man’s face, but he stops, and it grants Nat the freedom she needs to make a run for it. Well, not run. A quick, smooth glide across the shining marble tile.

The venue is a hotel ballroom that’s been rented out for the night in the city, something huge and grand and “fancy”, as Marin would put it. There is music, and food and drink, and an open bar, and people who aren’t dancing cluster to talk amongst themselves. She hears her name more than once in the gossip and conversation as she walks past people who spot her, but ignores them. None of the strangers are the one guest she wants.

#sealy rambles

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fishmongeringstudies · 2 years

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sad pelvis story (it’ll get better after you give up!)

the remarkable thing about pelvic bone separation is that according to the internet and every medical health professional I have spoken to so far it only really happens to pregnant people, so if you look up care and recovery options the only thing they’ll say is: it’ll get better after you give birth! Well Then, I say, shaking webMD lookalike number seventeen by the collar of their stupid starched shirt, shaking them so hard their neck snaps off and they die right there in my goddamn arms, what about the rest of us? What if there isn’t a baby splitting your pelvis in half like a chainsaw? What then?

it’s hard to talk about my pelvis without talking about the evil secondary school dance club and the eight-year-long mental health crisis and the remarkable PAP-endorsed notion of pushing through and overcoming and fucking annihilating adversity. They’re all tied up in each other, like headphone cords in a backpack, or five gymnasts in a game of Twister, or a DND fantasy-themed orgy. It’s not, as I was cautioned against yesterday, that I went and based all my personal worth and value as a person on dance. In fact, one might argue that that would be an easier string to untangle. You’d just have to cut it in half and yank the two ends apart and then boom— no more Liya; an endless world of possibility.

the problem is I picked happiness. So I’d still be a person if you took the dance away from me, you see, I’d just be miserable.

circles in the water. Shark circles. Finger circles, finger rings, rings of people trapping me in the middle of the circus, muttering to themselves about fire.

yesterday I went to dance class (my most recent mistake) and we flung objects around like sweaters and broomsticks and yoga blocks and then it ended and my pelvis went YAHOOBA and while I was lying on the floor contemplating the inherent fragility of man my professor came over and said you have to stop dancing for at least a week and I cried and my friend wandered back in and was like are you okay and I cried a little more and in the evening I called my girlfriend and cried again, cried into my cereal, cried into my nice Fruit Of The Loom (1871) shirt, cried in the bathroom with the cracked-open window. I cried to every single person who asked me if I was okay and then I did it all over again. What else is there to say? Take this lump in my throat and cook it. Throw it in the fire.

one time last semester a friend and I were hanging out in the weed dorm (my Humble Abode in sophomore year) and after we finished trading life updates she was like (a little incredulously, with feeling) damn bro, you are Doing Well. I tried to explain that the fact of my wellness was less a given and more of a series of lucky coincidences that had subsequently gotten tired and sat down for long enough for me to achieve personhood for the first time in my life and I don’t think she really believed me. I don’t think anyone really believed me when I said I was a clown in a fursuit at a furry convention doing cowboy moves and that if someone took off my cowboy hat I would immediately dissolve into a pile of fur, that I was grotesquely aware of how easily all of the good things could slip out of my grasp and that was why I was on anxiety medication, but maybe now they will. Which is a terrible thing. When one dons a clown suit your greatest nightmare is falling. Because falling means the end of the dream. And the end of the dream means no one will want to look at you anymore.

rest is good for you (even for a clown!). Given the fact that we live in a society, which involves, you know, capitalism, complete dissolving of work life balance, et cetera, rest almost has a patina of subversion to it, a sense of you’ve done something that you weren’t supposed to, a quiet roar of fury. Unfortunately, this means nothing to the Singaporean work ethic. In fact the Singapore education system is so uniquely constructed that at every juncture in the road anyone who isn’t thriving at full capacity gets quietly yoinked and is never spoken about ever again.

which, like, injury and mental health aren’t remotely the same thing. But they sure can affect each other and make out vigorously and fuck each other in the ass. My broken pelvis has fucked me in the ass. Like an earthworm hanging out. With itself. At six a.m. in the morning.

a list of absurd things:

one— cows have an ambiguous number of udders. They definitely have multiple nipples and my friend and I thought about it and generally agreed that each nipple probably leads to a separate store of milk but is there one udder or are there four? Six? Nineteen? People have boobs. But cows aren’t people. We spent five minutes looking at photos of cow boobs and concluded, quite gravely, that there are some things in the world we will simply never understand.

two— among the activities not recommended for people whose pelvic bones have separated are the remarkably high-exertion activities “sitting” and “standing”. I was so stunned by this discovery in my English class surrounded by people who were also not answering the poor discussion leaders’ questions that I almost fell out of my chair. Which would have been better for me than sitting in it, apparently. Which would have been ridiculous. I can’t slide around my college campus like a fucking worm. I know I said I was a fucking worm earlier and I was going to fuck another worm but this is different. This is going up to a dung beetle and asking it to sing, to dance, to do calculus. This would kill a worm. If I were a worm, I’d be dead.

three— I emailed my school’s international student center telling them how fucked up everything was and they were like you should consider taking medical leave. All right, Karen, so tell me: if I leave, where the fuck am I supposed to go? There is no place on this continent that even vaguely resembles home and I can’t just buy a thousand dollar ticket back to Singapore out of the fucking blue because I’m not rich, I’m not well-adjusted and well-supported and happily connected to my large family of rich doctors and lawyers, I’m a college student and a dancer and an ex-depressed person who needs to not go back into that dark, airless hole, I’m scared to death of what the next five weeks will look like, I’m fucking

miserable. Didn’t go to dance this morning and I was miserable. Skipped taiko this evening and I was miserable. Sat in the new dining hall and chewed on cherry tomatoes and I was miserable, miserable, miserable. Crying’s off the agenda now because I’m tired but it fucking sucks, you know? Being injured is embarrassing (my most recent problematic thought). Not being able to do the things that spark joy in my life is embarrassing. Like I finally found a way to make myself not want to eject my body into outer space and now my pelvic bones have fucking separated. Google keeps screaming at me about pregnancy and my dance friends keep on going to their dance classes and I just sit here with my sad angry bones and my angry lonely heart, hurting and hurting and hurting, and I write. I write about how pelvic bone separation occurs in between 1 in 300 and 1 in 300,000 vaginal deliveries. I write about how I am not part of this statistic. I write about what it’s like to love yourself in a way that finally makes sense to you, and then have that wrenched away.

I write my sad pelvis story, because I can’t go over there and tell you about it. I write an email to my professor. I write a hundred apologies.

I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time.

10.27.22

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fizzyxcustard · 2 years

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An Unlikely Pirate. (Armitage Summer Splash. Day 30)

As part of @lathalea and I’s Armitage Summer Splash, I present to you, day 30.

Masterlist of fics for Summer Splash

Prompts: “It meant nothing to me.“ / Pirates trope.

Fandom: North and South (AU)

Pairings: John Thornton x Fem!Reader (hint)

Warnings: Angst, turning down marriage proposal.

Summary: You had always loved John Thornton, but through your insecurity, you turned down his marriage proposal. Five years later, after he mysteriously disappeared from Milton, you hear some quite shocking news that sends you on a long journey in search of Captain Thornton.

Comments/Notes: If anyone would like to be added to or removed from my tag list, please say. Thank you to everyone who has made the Armitage Summer Splash possible. I have enjoyed every day, even though it's been quite tough at times and a challenge. Thank you! And this character choice was chosen by a sweet anon. :)

Whenever anyone brought up the subject of John Thornton, your response was always the same. "It meant nothing to me." But it did. Oh, it did. That had been the day in which your mind turned on you, telling you that John would never truly love you. All he saw was that you were a good match in society; both of you from money and of a middle class stock.

That was five years ago. Every day since and you had regretted your decision. Suitors had still tried to attract your attention; none of them were John. He had that spark which only took a switch to flick on. Whenever the two of you had conversed, the etiquette had told you to remain apart, not to touch (unless shaking hands) and not to stare. John watched you plenty, and you him. It was impossible to ignore. There was something in his eyes, a passion which lay undisturbed. And you wanted that.

Word had come to you that John Thornton had disappeared from conventional society and turned to a life of piracy. Your best friend's husband, Harry, had associates who worked at the docks in Ipswich. A man matching John Thornton's description had been seen regularly, coming into port to make exchanges, some of them legal and some not so legal. His movements were now showing a pattern; he always came on the last Sunday of the month.

That was how you knew where John would be. You left your parents' house, taking only the essentials and began your journey from Milton up in the north west, and travelled south east down to Ipswich. Train. Carriages.

On the last Sunday of May, you checked in to a small hotel. It was half a mile away from the pub which John was often seen in when he docked. You checked over your letter which Harry had received for you, highlighting all the important information. The Spread Eagle. 7pm. Last Sunday of every month. That was where John Thornton always went to carry out his business.

Quarter to seven came and you walked into the smokey pub, dressed in a large hat which covered much of your face, boots and a white shirt. You kept your head low, not wanting to gain too much attention. Patrons did look at you, their eyes studying you before they walked away, losing interest.

"What can I get ya, ma'am?" the bartender asked.

You coughed, taken off guard by the fact he had immediately recognised your gender. "Um, whiskey, please."

The bartender raised his eyebrow and turned to the bottles behind him to grab the whiskey.

The place was beginning to fill with customers. Some of them were already drunk, some part way there, and some beginning their attempts at becoming inebriated.

7pm, bang on time, the door opened. You looked across the heaving room from your seat at the very back corner, and even from that distance, there was no way you could mistake that face. The long nose, cold, yet passionate eyes, thin lips, raven black hair.

"Captain Thornton. What will you be havin'?" the bartender asked, still wiping some wet glasses with an old cloth.

"Usual, please, Jim."

The voice. It sent shivers down your spine. It made you melt and unlocked everything that you had tried so hard to repress. Even now that he made his money from illegal activities, he was still polite. An unlikely candidate to be a pirate.

However, you noticed his clothing was still fairly modest. Knee high boots with brown trousers tucked in and an open neck black tunic. He certainly didn't have the familiar look of a pirate that had become so well known in the newspapers. If anything, he could have just been mistaken for a fisherman.

John leaned against the bar and began to feel a stare. Someone was watching him. But then again, weren't they always? Being watched was something that he'd become so used to now. Tittle tattle and spies were always against him, but he had grown to know all the ways to avoid the law.

He picked up the glass of whiskey that had been prepared for him. But the voice that wafted over his shoulder made him stop, and the glass hovered inches from his lips.

"It's been a while, Mr. Thornton."

***

Follow Forever tag list: @lathalea @i-did-not-mean-to @xxbyimm @linasofia @middleearthpixie @meganlpie @guardianofrivendell @knitastically @sketch-and-write-lover @asgardianhobbit98 @spidergirla5 @rachel1959 @msjava1972 @medusas-hairband @lilacpulse @luna-xial @enchantzz @sunflwrnsunnieshine

Richard Armitage tag list: @cryptichobbit @eunoiaastralwings

#North and South #John Thornton #Richard Armitage #Armitage Summer Splash #John Thornton x Reader #Pirate John Thornton #Pirate AU

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dumb-hat · 1 year

Text

Tagged!

@thefreelanceangel smacked me with this thing, and I happen to be sitting here, looking at it, right at the moment when I'm both restless and bored and can't think of anything to read or do, so... yeah, okay, why not? Been a bit since I've done one of these things.

1. Are you named after anyone?

Kinda.

So, the original plan was to name me after my father, but it turns out there was another guy in town with his name, and Dad, like... he hated that guy, and the thought that people might meet little baby me and think that I was that guy's kid just grated on him, so they named me after his best friend, but gave me Dad's middle name.

2. When was the last time you cried?

I don't remember the last time I did a whole-ass, full-on cry, but I probably furrowed my brow and tried to stoically choke down a swell of tearful emotion while watching fucking Ted Lasso yesterday.

Same thing with Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 3 the other day.

It used to be that like, I'd get fairly emotional about real life stuff, but not so much with media. Sure, it would have an effect on me, but that effect just didn't, like... go anywhere, if that makes sense. These days though, if I'm being honest? I will almost cry at the drop of a hat.

3. Do you have kids?

Nah. The cats are enough.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

I think I use, like, a normal amount of sarcasm, whatever that is.

I really appreciate sarcasm, especially well-crafted sarcasm. It doesn't take much to just, I dunno, meanly say the opposite of how you actually feel about something, but good sarcasm can be an absolute delight.

When I was younger, I did an awful lot of the former, all the while confusing it for the latter. I won't say I always get it right now, but I try to do it less as a knee-jerk reaction, especially around people who might not know me as well... But I can't help it, and sometimes I show my ass.

If anything, I'm more likely to lapse into bathos than sarcasm.

5. What sports do you play/have you played?

Tee ball and coach pitch when I was a little, tiny kid. I was really bad at it, but Dad wanted me to do it, and it meant I got to hang out with him, even if I was terrified the entire time I was out there.

That's it, unless you want to count a few summers during/right after high school where my friends and I got really into Ultimate frisbee and started a league with teams and shirts and everything.

I, uh... I for one would rather not count that, if that's alright.

6. What is the first thing you notice about other people?

Honestly, it really just depends on how I meet them, you know? Is it an online thing? An in-person thing? A party? A concert? A convention? Work?

I guess I could say that I get a pretty strong gut reaction to people right off the bat, no matter the context. I'm pretty good about giving myself room to adjust how I feel, but there's definitely a quiet, ongoing vibe check that I notice first thing, if that counts.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

This feels like a false dichotomy.

For years, I thought I didn't like horror, but then I realized that I had just been convinced that I didn't like horror. Turns out, I really like it, I'm just kind of specific about it.

I like happy endings, but sometimes I'm put off when things are just a little too pat, you know?

So, uh, yeah. I like both. This doesn't feel like an either/or for me.

8. Any special talents?

I kinda wanna say 'no,' but that's not really a fun answer, is it?

So, okay. Here's a fun one: One day when I was like, 17 or 18, I was sitting at my grandparents' computer, waiting on something to download for a class project, I saw one of those... Oh, I don't know what they're called, like... one those, uh, letter spikes? You know, it's a spike that sits upright on a desk and you impale letters on it?

Yeah. One of those.

Anyway, I saw it there, and I still don't know why I did this—chalk it up to that ADHD impulsiveness, I suppose—but I took the thing and just, like, slid it into my nostril. I expected resistance, but didn't really find any, so I just kinda, you know, kept going.

I slid the thing in—straight back, mind you! Not up!—until I felt it touch the back of my sinus cavity. It wasn't long before I was showing this off to anyone I could, using progressively more impressive-looking nails. I started keeping a nose nail handy just so I could do the impromptu human blockhead thing on demand at parties and stuff.

Uh, does that count?

9. Where were you born?

Nowhere good, I tell you what.

10. Do you have any hobbies?

I do a lot of tabletop RPG stuff. I'm coming up on session 8 of an Exalted game, which is a lot of fun. I ran tons of it back in the day, but I haven't touched it since like, '11, but it feels good to be running it again. Feels kinda like home.

I play some video games, too. I find that the interest is always there, but the actual doing of it waxes and wanes, and boy, is there a lot of waxing right now. Just... a lot of fun stuff coming out. Lots I want to play.

I, uh... should probably log into FFXIV sometime soon. Get caught up. Take screenshots. Roleplay. Sort inventory. Manage retainers. Anything, really.

Honestly though, I really love making terrariums. I always thought it was kind of neat, but I started watching terrarium videos on YouTube as kind of a Bob-Ross-Moment-of-Zen-Unwind-and-Destress kind of thing while I was working a super-stressful job, and then it just kind of turned into my pandemic hobby. I love it, but I haven't made anything in a while, since I'm low on a few supplies. This is a good reminder to change that, though!

11. Do you have any pets?

I do! Two cats and a leopard gecko. The cats are 17 and 11. The leopard gecko is... at least 16, but could be years older than that, as he was kind of a rescue situation. He's slowing down a lot and getting really fussy, so I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit worried about him, but I reckon he's had a good run.

12. How tall are you?

5'10? 5'11? Depends on my posture, I guess.

13. Favorite Subject in School:

Depends on what kind of school we're talking about.

In grade school, it was usually science, sometimes social studies.

In high school, I took whatever *-as-literature classes I could, but my favorite classes were probably actually World Cultures and Sociology.

In college, I double majored in Anthropology and Linguistics. My favorite class was probably Sociolinguistics, but I was pretty good at Phonetics and the Anthropology of Science Fiction course I took as an undergrad was a ton of fun.

Okay, I guess it doesn't actually depend. Most of that can be boiled down to "I like people, and I like words, and I like what people do with words."

14. Dream job?

As much as I'd love to be pithy and say something like "I don't dream of labor," Baldwin said it better than I could ever hope to.

I don't think I have a dream job. I just kinda wanna do stuff and then have time to, like, not do stuff, you know?

That said, as I get older, I do find myself daydreaming about all kinds of things that feel like they'd be fulfilling now, but didn't even cross my mind when I was in a better position to do something about it more easily.

For all the time I spent staring at the architectural mock-ups in the halls at college, I could have at least taken an intro class, right?

I spent a large chunk of my life thinking I had no interest in making things or putting things together before realizing how much I loved the thin line between frustration and cursing, and elation and satisfaction that comes with repairing something, just because I was told that wasn't the kind of thing guys like me did. Also, uh... Having a half—or even quarter!—decent set of tools (rather than whatever you can find around the house) really, really helps.

So, yeah. I dunno. I'm getting older and still figuring out what I want to do, which is kind of a pain in the ass for an old guy that's long past all the college and "What do you wanna do when you grow up?" part, but I guess that's alright.

Wait. No. I wanna be a garden hermit. Surely, that's still a thing somewhere, right?

15. Eye Color?

Blue.

I'm not tagging anyone because... I dunno, I don't wanna. But hey, feel free to steal this and do it and tag me back so I can see it. That sounds like fun.

I've got an OOC blog over at @justlikethefish. In theory, that's where I talk about stuff like this. In practice, it's mostly like, cats and memes, and the occasional two-sentence post about whatever tabletop game I'm running, or whatever. Oh, and just about every Calvin & Hobbes post I come across.

#Tagged #OOC

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raenparade · 2 years

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A Question of Research #1 – What in God’s name is going on.

When I applied to do my Masters, I did so with the knowledge that more would be expected of me when it came to independent research and learning. That’s fine, I thought. Until I got to my first ‘A Question of Research’ lecture. Genuinely, what in the fresh Hell was going on. I couldn’t say.

For some context, the question I have chosen is:

“In what ways can subversion develop creativity in relation to practice?”

To quote my good friend Kel: ‘My eyes literally slip right off that sentence, they slide right off it.’ And I couldn’t agree with him more. I know the questions must be left intentionally vague to include all the courses on this module AND they have to be academically charged enough to work for a Masters, but I still feel like I’m back in nursery.

Basically, I did not know what was happening and still don’t! But I am going to try and dissect everything a little bit. I tried this not long after the first lesson, and this can be seen in the notes I have posted here - but right now I am going to try and be a bit more succinct.

Despite the dictionary definition of ‘subversion’ in both English and American dictionaries, I’ve only ever heard of the term in relation to things like media consumption or creation. A lot of the media I consume is subversive but to different degrees. I really like the idea of taking pre-established conventions and adding a slight spin on them, it makes something that was previously rather samely and freshens it up a bit. I suppose it speaks to my character to rehash things I am already familiar with and try to remix it as opposed to consuming a lot of new media, which I tend to find pretty tedious at best.

I feel like in the modern, digital age subversion is really concentrated in smaller spaces and spread out a lot more across others. My perspective is from both a consumer and creator – whether it’s through social media or releases by big studios. For example, Disney, which is basically all media at this point is really good at picking an old I.P out of a hat and pouring millions of dollars into making it ‘live action’ (despite most of it being animated!) and releasing it into the masses.

I say all this with only the intention to highlight the seeming lack of originality in big releases nowadays. This isn’t limited to Disney either, earlier this year Warner Bros and Discovery merged which caused one of the biggest fumbles of any bag seen in recent memory. Whole movies were cancelled, such as the upcoming Batgirl movie and thousands of animators, showrunners and production teams found out about their redundancies mostly through reports on websites or through Twitter. Not only that, but in the age of streaming, where most shows or movies fail to see physical releases, (unless you decide to don an eyepatch and do it yourself) when a show is wiped from a platform with little to no notice it has a strong chance of becoming lost. This happened to over a dozen animated TV shows on HBO Max, with some showrunners, such as Infinity Train’s creator Owen Dennis initially encouraging those to pirate his show if they wanted to continue to enjoy it for themselves.

It really does seem like those who wish to create original concepts and are really successful at it are the ones having to pay the prices. Warner Bros reportedly took a lot of their shows away for tax cuts, which also further hurts any chance of these shows being revisited or revived in the future. It eventually had a massive blowback, which their stock tanking and them losing billions on top of trying to save what they could.

Not everything is all doom and gloom though. With the rise of social media in the last few decades fan creations are at an all-time high and don’t appear to be slowing down anytime soon. We’re starting to see shows and things that were made in the early 2000’s come full circle and those who were inspired by them as kids help influence the way they resurface now. It’s not only in an entirely professional setting, either. Graphic Novels, Webcomics and the like enable a single person to broadcast their stories to thousands or millions of people. The ways people do this also have their downsides, but this blog post is already starting to turn into a small essay.

Suffice to say, I think I already have more of an idea of the direction I could take my research in and I know it’s working because I’ve ignored half the notes I made before typing this all up! I think subversion in relation to fan creations/fandom spaces and how that can influence the media it’s referencing is really interesting, good or bad.

I don’t really have a good way to end these things yet, since it’s more of a thought-dump than anything else. So I just hope this made some sense to whoever has decided to read it!

#a question of research #ma illustration

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

aquarium | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You thought you and Jeon Jungkook would be last forever, but you had to read the ending yourself, in the form of typed words. When it arrived, you went to the blue sea. The grey sky would come and the black storm would appear.

warnings: cheating in established relationship; (very sad) angst; language; ambiguous ending; non-idol!AU; video game streamer!Jungkook x reader; ft. kind garden-loving landlord!Taehyung

now playing – trauma (aquarium) by ONEWE

this place has been transformed into something unknown i’m trapped alone in an aquarium

You could see the ending.

At first it was the little things. He held your hand a little less, stood a little further from you when you two walked side by side. Stared at his phone a lot. Didn’t share his snacks as often. Spent all his time on his computer, streaming video games for longer and longer hours.

You had nothing to say. It was his job, after all.

You made his meals, washed his dishes. Changed his water bottles, gave him a kiss for the camera. Felt a little part of you die inside each time you went to bed alone, only to hear him slip under the blankets, hours after you. You went to work for longer and longer hours. There was no reason to go home. He ordered take-out for dinner every night.

Being Jeon Jungkook’s girlfriend was supposed to be fun.

And it was fun, at first. At first, he spent all this time with you. At first, he was always with you, by your side. He only streamed a little back then. It was a slow, gradual growth, and, like all parasites, it took over every aspect of your life. From your nights, to your days, to your time – making meals, cleaning up after him, doing all the laundry.

You could tolerate it. He made a lot of money. He was having fun. He was smiling. You would do anything for Jeon Jungkook. He dragged you into his sea and you swam in it happily. Until you realized you were stuck and alone, glass walls all around you, keeping you away from him. Seeing him, and yet not being able to touch him, kept away from his heart.

Caught in an aquarium.

He would give you kisses and tell you he wanted to get married.

He would say he loved you, but it was all a lie.

You weren’t in his Instagram photos. You weren’t part of his Twitter bio anymore. You weren’t listed in his phone with a little purple heart next to your name. Even that, you wouldn’t mind. He told you he didn’t want you to get harassed by trolls. He told you that he wasn’t ashamed of you, that you were the most beautiful woman in the world.

But.

Then again.

He told every girl in his DMs that.

You stared at them that faithful night, unable to sleep, reading them all. Jungkook was asleep beside you, snoring away, and you read every single one. The WhatsApp messages were worse. They were so much worse. More sexual, detailing what he wanted to do to other people. Not you. Not you, the love of his life. Not you, the one by his side.

You knew how to backtrack and retrace your steps. Make it seem like you were never there. Placed his phone on his side of the bed and went to sleep. He held you that night. Turned around in his sleep and wrapped his arms around you.

Inside, you drowned.

When he told you that he was going to a gaming convention, he was very excited. Grinning his beautiful grin, snacking on shrimp chips as you washed the dishes. It was only the weekend, only two days. He wasn’t going to go for the Friday or Monday, so he could spend time with you.

“I would totally invite you, but you said you have to work that weekend.”

You said apologetically. “I know. I’m sorry. But I have to be there for my co-workers.”

He frowned and nudged you. “You work too much. You know you don’t have to. We can just live off my streaming money. I can buy you nice things.”

“I would feel bad for leaving them. I’ve worked at that office for seven years.”

He smirked, elbowing you a little. “Cheating on me with all the cute guys?”

You carefully wiped down the glass, placing it back in the cabinet, smile plastered to your face.

“No guy is cuter than you, Jungkook.”

That was the weekend you left.

You went to work, confirmed your month-long vacation of all the hours you’ve collected over the years, and packed every belonging you owned in that apartment. To be honest, there wasn’t very much. Anything Jungkook had ever bought you, you left behind.

There was no reason to hold onto it.

For a long moment, you stared at the photos, the stack of photos of you and him. Your smile, his smile, the places you’ve been, the things you’ve seen with him. Then you placed them on the bed, scattering them, spreading them all over the blankets.

You left it like that.

You went to the ocean.

You dropped the boxes at a storage unit in the city. Took only a carry-on bag of clothes and took a train to the coast. You left your phone in the storage unit too, telling your parents you were going on vacation to the sea. Didn’t say where, only mentioned you wanted to unplug, unwind, disconnect.

Disconnect.

The cottage you rented was cared for by a nice young man with dark brown hair and tan skin. He said it was his parents’ and that he was renting it out for them. If you needed anything, you could contact him and he wouldn’t hesitate to help. He had a bright, boxy smile and a cheerful tone. You thanked him for being so considerate.

You sat on the edge of the cliff, legs dangling over the side.

Your pink flats were right beside you, and your arms were resting on the wooden fence. The ocean breeze was strong here, salty and cold. You were in a long-sleeved white dress that was going to get dirt and grass stains on it, but that sort of thing didn’t matter now.

Clothes could be replaced.

The garden rock in your hand spun round and round, dancing between your deft fingers. Your left hand. The hand that held his when you two walked side by side, fitting in his right covered in small tattoos. He had a king’s crown tattoo on his ring finger and asked you if you would get a queen’s crown tattoo someday. It didn’t have to be on your hand. Anywhere was fine.

You looked at your left hand then, the hand that was holding his, and then it didn’t.

And then it didn’t.

You stared down into the crashing waves and jagged rocks under you. It was cold here. How far down was that? White forth slammed against eroding stone. Even mountains weren’t forever. Even something as solid as rock could be ground down into nothing with water.

Your eyes shifted to the shimmering sea, the endless blue, sun reflecting harshly off it. It didn’t matter how beautiful the water was or how many extraordinary creatures were under the surface. The deep sea hid all the worst creatures, all the terrible monsters. Not even science could go that far and discover all those horrors.

You pulled your arm back and threw the rock as far as you could. You couldn’t even see where it landed. The seawater was too rough and wild.

“Why would you throw my garden stone into the ocean?”

You started, turning around sharply to the heavy, baritone voice of your landlord. He was wearing a white sunhat, a beige shirt and pants, clutching a pair of dirty and worn brown gardening gloves. He frowned at you, staring into the ocean.

“What did my rock ever do to you?”

You looked back to the choppy waves and then faced him again, ashamed.

“Well, come. You will have to help with the garden to repay for that. I’m harvesting winter squash.”

“You can cook.”

You nodded to Kim Taehyung, the young man who was caring for the sea cottage. He was tasting some of your winter squash and fresh bamboo combination after he asked if you could do something with the two. You had added garlic, ginger, and made a light white sauce as you sautéed it all together.

“I got this bamboo from a friend who lives in the mountains. I can’t cook very well though. Can you?”

You two ate in steady silence, listening to the sounds of nature and waves crashing into shore. He had made rice while you cooked the vegetables.

“The only thing I can make, really,” he had chuckled.

You chewed, listening to Taehyung mix the leftover sauce with the rice and slurp it up.

“The world is quiet here,” you said softly.

He nodded; mouth full. His brown eyes shifted to the overhanging cliff as he swallowed.

“It is.��

You tended the garden with him.

You hadn’t even realized all the greenery around the cottage was a giant garden. To you, they were just pretty plants. Taehyung taught you all about the plants, which ones he was growing, which ones the season was already over, which ones he was trying to grow next season. Some were flower bushes he was trying to learn, but you learned that they were finnicky and not as hardy as the vegetables.

“I don’t even like vegetables that much,” he laughed, rich, full, heedless. “But they’re easy to care for, so they make me the happiest.”

He had tried fruits, but the wild animals always got to them despite his best efforts.

“I must share with nature, I suppose.”

Sometimes, you missed the internet. You missed the distractions, the games you played, the ability to like random thoughts on someone’s Twitter. In those times, you would stare at the never-ending blue ocean and then Taehyung would tap you with the rake and tell you that you needed to help him loosen the soil.

“We need all of nature’s nutrients.”

You stared out to the blue ocean, wearing a large straw hat and a navy dress. You weren’t at the cliff this time, but farther back. The breeze was softer at this moment. Taehyung had given you the hat a while ago, telling you it was better than the white scarf you wore around your hair. It did provide better sun protection for your face.

The cobalt sea was violent today, sky grey and dark. Taehyung told you it might rain, so the garden could be skipped today.

You held your hat and looked up.

“Me too, sky. Me too,” you murmured quietly.

You wondered when the feeling would disappear. It would probably be gradual, silently vanishing as each day was replaced, memories fading into the vast abyss of thoughts, mixing with fantasy so that you wouldn’t be able to know the difference between what was real and what was fake. That’s why eyewitness accounts were never trustworthy.

That’s how all memories were.

You let go of your hat for only a second. It flew off your head and you spun around, surprised at the strong ocean breeze.

Taehyung caught it with one hand, standing a few meters behind you.

Your lips parted at how easily he was able to catch it. He was wearing a yellow raincoat and brown pants with his usual brown gardening boots. He smiled, walking up to you and putting the straw hat back on your head.

“I warned you that you might lose it if you stand too close to the ocean.”

You hand came up and brushed against his fingers as he retreated his. He looked away quickly, into the stormy blue sea threatened by grey clouds.

“What have you lost to be looking so sad?” Taehyung asked gently.

You followed his gaze.

“Memories.” The water churned, smacking against the cliffside. “A whole book of them.”

“What do you mean?”

You turned back to Taehyung, who was now watching you curiously. You held onto your straw hat, not wanting it to blow away again.

“I left all the photos, so I wouldn’t have to see them again.” You sighed. “Pictures of moments, years etched out visually. I was going to make a memories photo book when we got married.”

You looked back to the ocean, seeing the sky darken ever more.

“And now we won’t.”

There was a loud clap of thunder. Your eyes searched for the lightning.

And then your name, shouted across the grass, harsh and angry like the thunder.

At first, you didn’t hear it. You were distracted by the sky, waiting for the rain. But Taehyung snapped his head around, startled. You noticed his movement and turned around too. A figure in black jumped over the fence, yelling your name on the top of his lungs.

The glass walls came up inside you, trying to protect you from the stumbling, turbulent sea that was Jeon Jungkook.

Taehyung frowned. “Who the fuck is that?”

“Who the fuck are you?” Jungkook spat, glaring at him and his yellow raincoat. He called you again, sharply, stomping over. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? When I came home from the convention and you were just gone? No note, nothing, only to find you running off with some random guy!”

The thunder sounded again, but there was no lightning yet.

“I called everyone! Your work, your friends, your family, your phone! You wouldn’t even answer your fucking phone. I had to find out from your work that you were on vacation,” Jungkook hissed, glaring at you. “Vacation from our relationship that is, fucking cheating on me.”

Taehyung glared back. “Dude, it’s not like that at all. I’m just the landlord of the cottage she rented–”

“Shut up. I’m not talking to you.”

You stared at Jungkook, his dark brows and wild black hair, so angry at you that he was cursing. The irony was not lost on you. You held onto the straw hat.

“Is that all it was?” you said quietly. “You were upset that I would find affection in someone else?”

“Of course, I was! You’re the love of my life!”

You smiled gently. “Is that what you tell them all?” Your navy dress fluttered in the harsh ocean breeze.

Jungkook scowled. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

You looked down to your pink flats, dirty and grass-stained now from running around the cottage garden. Taehyung had teased you, telling you they weren’t good gardening shoes, but you hadn’t brought any other shoes with you. Everything else Jungkook had bought you, with his money.

“Even now, you pretend, Jungkook.” Your hair tangled in the wind, salty and tousled from the sea. You looked back up at him and his expression was changing now. “I remember asking you once, should you comment like that on other people’s Instagram posts?” The thunder was louder now, sky ripping apart with flashing light. “You said, everyone is like that. It’s part of the business.” The color was draining out of Jungkook’s face. “Were the DMs only for show too? What about the WhatsApp messages? The things you wanted to do to them? The ones you wanted to shove your dick into?”

“That’s fucked up,” Taehyung muttered next to you.

“That… That wasn’t…” Jungkook struggled for words. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You nodded. You felt it first, the fat drop on the hand holding your hat.

“I know you didn’t. Everything was for fun. Everything.”

Smile plastered to your face, because what could you do now?

“Even me. Even I was for fun.”

You inhaled a deep breath. You had cried for many nights when you crawled into that unfamiliar bed upstairs. For hours, long after Taehyung was gone. Drowning in your own endless sea, filling your glass aquarium. Cried yourself out, and now you let the sea cry for you when you watched it every day, while you worked on the garden with Taehyung.

The rain began to fall.

You looked back to Jungkook, torn, guilty, exposed.

“You should come in and wait for the rain to subside before going home. Your viewers will miss you.”

Taehyung pulled his hood over his head. “Do you want me to stay?” he asked you, voice sharp. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

The way he said it implied in more ways than just physical pain. But it was a little late for that.

“I think I will be okay, Taehyung,” you said, water seeping through your hat, rain drenching your dress., turning you into a soaked doll. “Nature has taught me to keep growing.”

He bit his lip, still frowning, but bowed. “Alright.”

And then you watched him go, back to his car, hurrying along. You went in the opposite direction, to the cottage. You had one more week in your hideaway. Rainwater seeped into your flats as you stepped into the grass, soaking your feet. But somehow, it was nice. It was nice to feel the sky cry on you, because then you didn’t have to. You made your way to the covered porch, wringing out your dress the best you could. Took off your hat, opened the door.

Heard heavy black boots in your wake.

“You… left all the pictures.”

The choked, sorrowful voice of Jeon Jungkook behind you.

“I did.”

You stepped inside the cottage. Placed your hat on the hook, dripping wet. Stepped out of your drenched pink flats. Didn’t wait for him. Just went upstairs to the bathroom, trailing rainwater, locking the door behind you. You turned on the water, plugging the drain. Ran a bath and sank into your own hot aquarium.

You heard the heavy fall against the door. Your name, softly spoken through the door.

“I’m sorry.”

You sank further into the water.

“No apology will ever fix what you have done to me.”

The water was cloudy and milky with whatever bath salts Taehyung had provided with the other personal goods.

“I can prove it to you.”

You felt the tears come now, the anger, the sadness. You submerged your head underwater, blocking out all the sound, blocking out your own thoughts. Your hair floated around you, washing out the salt of the blue sea. You waited, waited until your lungs screamed, and still you waited until your vision was fading to grey before you resurfaced, taking a shuddering breath, surprisingly calm.

“The trauma has already spread, Jungkook.”

You heard a slight sob at the tone you used to say his name, cold and unfeeling.

“I really didn’t mean it, I swear.”

You took a deep breath and dove into your man-made aquarium once again.

part ii

masterpost

extended playlist blue & grey by BTS 기억 세탁소 (eraser) by ONEWE 기억 속 한 권의 책 (a book in memory) by ONEWE

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic

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walviemort · 3 years

Text

Fairy Godfather, part 1

Summary: The fairies have asked a monumental favor of Killian: be the surrogate for their babies—all nine of them. He's been pregnant before, but this? This is a whole other level. What has he gotten himself into? And just how big will he get?

A/N: As usual, the muse has gone off and done whatever it wants to do, rather than, y'know, work on a WIP. Alas. The idea for this came about when I sent @sancocnutclub this picture of a woman who was supposedly pregnant with 10 babies; it has since come out as a hoax, but dang—her BUMP. Subsequent doodling and headcanoning brought about this story (also partly inspired by a conversation with SherlockianWhovian a while back), and here we are! I should note that this also takes place after a couple of past one-shots, which can be found here and here. Hope you like it!

rated T / 3k words / AO3

Of all the requests put in front of Killian in his long life, this was by far the oddest.

“You want me...to carry babies...for how many of you?” he asked, trying to wrap his head around the query.

“Nine,” Blue answered matter-of-factly. “Normally, it wouldn’t be so many, but we’re past due for a brood. There was just no one around who we thought could handle it.”

“And he can?” Emma was at his side in the booth at Granny’s, where Blue and Tink had requested to meet with them. Their daughter, Hope, was sitting in the high chair at the end of the table, making a mess of some oatmeal.

“It helps if they’ve given birth before,” Tink replied. Well, he had done that—not intentionally, but he had been the one to carry and birth Hope, who was 10 months old now.

And while it had ended up being a beautiful experience, he obviously had reservations. “Yes, but that was only one baby—and you genuinely think I can handle nine?”

“We do,” Blue confirmed. “And we’d obviously provide as much help as we can.”

“It also wouldn’t be like a normal human pregnancy,” Tink added. “No morning sickness or cravings, or anything like that.”

“No, I’d just be massive,” he sighed; memories of his own perceived whale-like proportions toward the end of his pregnancy with Hope were still fresh; this had potential to put that to shame.

“Well, fairy newborns are smaller than the average human infant—less than 4 pounds. But yes, you would go full term.” Blue was awfully clinical in her statements.

Killian glanced down at his midsection, which had yet to fully regain its previous flatness, and he doubted it ever would. Especially not if he agreed to this. “I’m really your only option?” he asked again. “What about David?”

“It’s too soon,” Blue answered. David gave birth a couple months prior to their daughter Ruth, and as promised, Killian was at his side. However, he’d had to have a C-section, which slowed his recovery a bit compared to Killian’s. “And it must be done at the upcoming winter solstice, or we’ll have to wait another few years.”

Killian was about to suggest that until Tink jumped in. “Plus, you kind of still owe us for the whole hat thing.”

“That was the Dark One and you know it,” Emma snapped back, but they both knew Killian still harbored a fair amount of guilt over that. It was a low blow on their part, but not undeserved.

She most likely saw the acceptance in his eyes when they exchanged a glance, but he also saw she wasn’t quite there. “Does it really have to be a guy?” she enquired, turning back to the fairies. “I mean, there are lots of women here who meet your criteria, too.”

“It does,” they said simultaneously, though Tink at least looked somewhat apologetic.

Emma was ready to protest again, but he put his hand over hers on the table and told her with a look that it was okay. She reclined in her seat while he turned back to the pair. “I’ll agree, but with one condition: you’ll have to help pick up my slack—around town and at home,” he said evenly. He was sure he’d get to a point when it wasn’t feasible for him to continue as deputy, or at the library, or even keep up with Hope, who was dangerously close to walking.

“Actually, one more,” Emma added. “He’s not on the hook for any, like, actual fatherhood, right? You won’t be coming after him for child support or anything?”

“No, he's simply the surrogate,” Blue confirmed.

“And we’ll definitely help out—whatever you need,” Tink added.

Emma gave him a tentative but supportive look. “Then I’ll do it,” he told them.

“Excellent,” Blue stated with less enthusiasm than he expected. “We’ll send you more information soon, but the most important thing is to be at the convent next Saturday. Green,” she then turned to Tink, “come; we have much to do to prepare.” (Which was a polite way of asking her to slide out of the booth first.)

Tink rolled her eyes and stood up. “I’ll text you,” she said, and the two flitted out of the diner.

Killian and Emma were silent for a long moment after they left, other than making sure some oatmeal actually ended up in Hope’s mouth.

Emma started to clean up the baby and then said, “I know it’s too late now, but are you sure about this?”

“Not entirely,” he confessed, “but they were right—I do owe them.”

“You don’t,” Emma said matter-of-factly, “even though I know you think you do.” She wiped the mess off Hope’s face. “But if this will finally relieve some of that guilt, then I get it, and I’ll support you.”

“Thank you, love,” he sighed, and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’m going to need it, I think.”

“Oh, you are,” she said wryly. “And you should probably start planning how you’ll tell my dad.”

“Bloody hell,” he cursed, then dragged a hand down his face. “He’s going to be relentless.” What had been playful ribbing during their respective pregnancies was likely about to be amplified.

“Maybe you can talk to Belle? See if she knows anything on what to expect? Pun not intended.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” he agreed, then followed Emma as she slipped out of the booth. He pulled Hope from the high chair and settled her in his left arm, then grabbed her diaper bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Guess we’ll pick her brain now. See you later.” They kissed farewell and headed off to their respective jobs that day—Emma at the station, Killian at the library, where he’d taken something of an assistant librarian position (and could keep an eye on Hope and her “cousin” Gideon in between reshelving and assisting patrons).

Belle was surprised when he told him about the morning’s turn of events, but then got an almost academic excitement. “I can’t say I know much about their physiology, and I didn’t know this about their reproduction, but let’s see if we have anything.”

She dove into research while he took care of normal library functions, but by midday, didn’t have much to show for it.

“They’re so secretive! Obviously their existence is documented, and there’s mention of someone other than Blue being in charge at some point in the past, and that their young mature faster than average, but that’s it. What did they tell you?”

“Not much,” he answered, relaying what little he’d been told. “But they did call it a ‘brood’, so it sounds like multiples are common. Just not quite so many.”

“Do you think they’d let me take notes?” she wondered. “It’s not like there's any research journals on magical beings I could submit a paper to, but more for my own study.”

“If they don’t let you, I won’t do it,” he commented. “Do you still have everything from last time?” She’d done quite a bit of documentation on his first pregnancy, considering it was the product of a misunderstood spell.

“Of course; David’s, too.” Then she laughed. “Of all the things I imagined becoming an expert in, magical male pregnancy was not one of them.”

“Someone had to,” he countered.

“That’s true!”

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The rest of the week was fairly uneventful, save for a text from Tink telling them when to arrive at the convent, and to make sure he ate lots of greens and wore something comfortable (which he took to mean stretchy). And they assented to Belle’s presence, too, which didn’t change anything but did make him feel more at ease.

David was something between amused and horrified about what Killian had agreed to, but ultimately glad they hadn’t asked him.

The afternoon of the solstice, before they headed to the convent, Belle took some notes and measurements of Killian as a baseline for her study—and honestly, he was kind of glad, if the proportions on this were going to be as overlarge as he expected. “How big do they make those maternity pants?” he asked Emma as Belle was making note of his waist size (not significantly larger than it used to be, he was at least proud to say).

Emma’s eyes grew large. “I don’t know; I think the fairies are gonna have to help with that one.”

“Let’s hope that’s a ways off, then,” he settled.

They dropped Hope off at Snow and David’s on their way to the convent, where they were greeted by Blue herself. She ushered them in without a word, and a couple other fairies were there to gather their belongings, before Blue guided them further into the building. Killian was both surprised and not to see that they were all in their traditional attire, though he was a bit shocked that they were all still large and not the miniscule size they were known for. Belle had had a similar question a few days ago; they’d ask at some point.

They were led into a large, candlelit room, where Tink suddenly appeared in front of him. “Drink this,” she commanded, holding a mug of steaming liquid, “and take off your shirt.”

“Is that necessary?” he asked as he took the mug.

“I mean, I already know what’s under there, so I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t,” she countered with a wink.

He complied with a sigh. The drink was a potion of some sort, he gathered almost immediately; a warm, tingly feeling took over his body as he drank it, eventually settling in his stomach, which made sense. Weirdly, though, when he removed his tshirt, there was a slight glow under the skin of his abdomen. (Belle was off to the side, furiously taking notes; Emma was next to her, trying to keep a straight face and surreptitiously taking pictures.)

Blue was watching a clock, and when it struck a seemingly random time—the peak of the solstice—she began chanting in a tongue he didn’t quite recognize, with others gradually joining in and forming a circle around him. The glow under his skin got brighter, especially in his midsection, although he didn’t feel any different—yet.

“Human,” Blue finally addressed him. “You have agreed to be the vessel for our young. Do you promise to protect them with your life, and care for them until they are ready to join our world?”

“I...yes,” he answered, as confidently as he could manage. “I will.”

Blue continued briefly in the foreign tongue, as did the others. “Now, let the gravidation commence.”

One of the fairies approached him with her hands cupped as the rest continued to chant; she was dressed all in pink, and he thought he’d seen her spending time with Grumpy on occasion. As she got closer, he saw a small ball of pink light pulsing her palm that she was murmuring to, until she was close enough to touch him.

And she did, guiding the ball of light toward his navel and then—it disappeared inside him as she pressed her hands against his stomach. He felt a small twinge inside as it settled within, but no pain—just a spark. The glow from his midsection briefly took on a pinkish hue, but then returned to the white color it had been emanating.

Each of the nine fairies did the same thing, one by one. He did wonder how it was decided who would be reproducing, given that there were far more than nine fairies present, but that was another question for a later date. They appeared before him in all colors of the spectrum—purple, seafoam, navy, yellow, fuschia—and then Tiger Lily’s deep orange joined the array of hues, followed by Tink’s bright green.

Blue was the last to approach, and her orb seemed to be the biggest of them all, which he supposed was no surprise. However, her hands lingered on his abdomen and she continued to chant, the intensity and volume increasing as everyone’s voices joined in.

He suddenly felt a slight cramp within—still nothing painful, but like his insides were being gently rearranged, which they probably were. Then his stomach glowed brighter, casting all the colors of the fairies whose offspring he was now carrying around the room.

“Gods above, watch over this man; let he be exalted among the fairies, and let no harm befall him nor our bairns,” Blue called out with a sense of finality.

The glow grew brighter, until it was too bright for him to look at, but then was gone in a flash. The fairies gave a collective hum that seemed to resolve the ceremony, and then began to file out of the room, although Tink approached and wrapped him in a soft robe.

He felt...he wasn’t sure. Content, at the very least, but also like he might float away were it not for the sensation of a weight within him holding him down. His hand drifted to his midsection, and if he wasn’t mistaken, it was ever so slightly rounder than it was before he arrived; with nine babies in there, he supposed that made sense. He couldn’t feel any sensations of kicking yet, but it was probably too early—and honestly, he still kind of tingled all over. The analytical side of him wondered where they would be considered in their development relative to a human fetus—and if they’d even show up on an ultrasound.

“How are you doing, Captain?” Blue was still in front of him, but in the afterglow (literally) of the spell, he’d lost sense of anything else around him.

“I’m good,” he answered. “Possibly too good.”

Blue gave a small, knowing smile. “That tends to happen. Come, let’s sit; you must have more questions.” She gestured toward the door the fairies had exited out of and then moved toward it herself, expecting him to follow.

Emma was suddenly at his side, and Belle not far behind. “You okay?” she asked, brow furrowed in concern.

“I seem to be,” he replied. “Have I ever told you how bloody beautiful you are?”

She grinned, amused. “Many times. What was in that cup?”

“Potion of some sort,” he shrugged as she started pushing him in the direction of the door. “Why?”

“Seemed like some really potent potables,” she quipped. Yeah, he did feel a little drunk.

He somehow ended up on a very plush couch, with Emma on one side and Belle on the other, sitting across from Blue, Tink, and Tiger Lily. Someone gave him a glass of water, and there was food on a coffee table, but he wasn’t much hungry.

Honestly, he was mostly fascinated with the stained glass windows in the room, and with inspecting whatever was going on in his stomach, until he did hear Belle ask a pertinent question:

“So why men?”

“Well, we’re all women,” Blue answered. “It does take two.”

“But I thought you said he was just a surrogate,” Emma countered. “Are these actually his babies? Because we didn’t agree to that.”

“No, they’re not; I suppose in modern terms, you’d say that we reproduce asexually. But nature still seems to demand the involvement of a man and a woman. So that’s why a willing male carries the brood.”

“Are there always so many?” Belle asked.

“No; usually only 4 or 5. But no one was available at the last solstice.”

Killian didn’t really pay attention to the next several questions regarding fairy reproduction—he’d read Belle’s notes later when he was a bit more focused—but he did eventually get to interject one of his own: “Why are you big right now, though? And why aren’t the babies going to be tiny?”

The fairies chuckled—he supposed his statement wasn’t as coherent as it sounded in his head—but still replied. “Shrinking is an acquired skill,” Tink said. “That’s why we weren’t small when we didn’t have our powers,” she explained, nodding at Tiger Lily.

“But once we learn, it’s our preferred size,” Blue added. “It’s easier to do our job then.”

That made sense.

“So, what else can he expect,” Emma asked. “I know you said it’d be different, but how much?”

“Well, the size, obviously—and you will still gain weight to support that,” Blue explained. “Increased appetite is to be expected, but no cravings or anything like that.”

“Your hormones will be altered, similar to a normal pregnancy,” Tiger Lily added. “But that just helps the body prepare for birth.”

“Bloody hell, what will that be like?” he wondered aloud.

“Nowhere near as difficult,” Blue laughed.

“Wait—if my hormones are affected…” He trailed off, remembering how much those threw him for a loop last time—particularly, certain desires. “I can still have sex, right?”

Emma covered her face with her hands at his blunt question, but it was important.

“Of course,” Blue said plainly. “Do whatever you need to—within reason, of course.”

“Although, don’t forget—you’ll be at least twice as big as last time,” Tink reminded. “At least. That might make it harder.”

More difficult, maybe, but it hadn’t altered either person’s desires the last time around. He turned to give Emma (what he thought was) a salacious look, but she just burst into giggles.

“Just—listen to your body,” Blue finally said. “For everything: rest, food, activity. The spell you drank will last the whole pregnancy and keep things going. We trust you, though.”

“I’ll guard them with my life,” he said, suddenly emotional, covering his stomach with his hand.

“Aaaand there’s the hormones,” Emma commented. “Come on; let’s get you home.”

He was suddenly very sleepy. “Aye; that’s a good idea.”

“Yes, he’s going to be tired the next couple of days,” Blue added. “But otherwise—see you in 40 weeks.”

Emma wrapped her arm around him, said goodbye, and poofed them straight back to their bedroom. He was nearly asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, but had one last thing to ask Emma.

“You’ll still find me sexy when I’ve got a big, huge belly, right?”

She kissed his forehead. “Incredibly so. Sleep tight.”

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thanks for reading! tagging @wyntereyez @jennjenn615 @superadam54 @ashley-knightingale @justsomewhump @teamhook (let me know if you want a tag!)

#cs ff #killian mpreg #fairy godfather #my ff

42 notes · View notes

lilacs-fandom-garden · 3 years

Text

Incorrect Quotes 4

Ships:

Errorink (lol I dont have much Errorink in my posts still, sorry)

Kreme/Driller

Crossmare

Dustberry

Horrorlust

Scifell

Afterdeath

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Geno, to Ink: I dare you to—

Dream: Ink isn’t allowed to accept dares.

Ink: Apparently I have ”no regard for my personal safety”

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Dust: Do you miss the imagination of childhood?

Cross: I never had one.

Dust: An imagination or a childhood?

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Horror: *accidentally hits Error in the face*

Horror: *trying to decide between saying “I’m fucking sorry” and “are you okay?”

Horror: ARE YOU FUCKING SORRY?!

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Killer: Do you like my outfit?

Dream: Not as much as I like what's underneath it.

Killer, blushing: I- Dre-

Dream: I need your chair. Get up.

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Horror: Do you know when you know someone, and you see that they have another, like, life away from you and it feels weird?

Dust: Like when you see your teacher in the grocery store weird, or like when someone you’ve known for a long time starts wearing a cowboy hat weird?

Horror: The… The first thing weird

Dust: Oh, that’s good, ‘Cause I was thinking about getting a cowboy hat

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Cross: You read my diary?!

Dream: At first, I didn’t know it was your diary. I thought it was a very sad handwritten book.

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Lust: Sorry, but you're under arrest for robbery.

Horror: What did I steal?

Lust, trying not to cry: My heart

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Dream: Killer and I were crossing the street, and this dude drove by and honked at us

Cross: *Sighing* What did Killer do?

Dream: They chased him to the next red light, then reached into his window and...

Killer: Who wants a steering wheel?

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Dream: *holding a bottle* Is this whiskey or perfume?

Killer: *chugs entire bottle*

Killer: It’s perfume.

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Killer, watching the news: Someone tried to fight a squid at the aquarium today.

Dream: *walks in covered with ink* Well, maybe the squid was being a jerk!

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Killer, tending to Dream's wounds: How would you rate your pain?

Dream: Zero stars. Would NOT recommend.

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Killer: You know, I'm starting to regret showing you how that blender works.

Horror, drinking toast: Why do you say that?

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Dust: Lol heads up if you try to make a candle with food coloring, the food coloring will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food coloring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you'll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food coloring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter. Please take my word on this lmfao

Horror: What did you do!?

Dust: A MISTAKE

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Dust, addressing the squad: And if you have any suggestions feel free to put them in the suggestion box.

Horror: But – that’s just a trash can.

Dust: It sure is!

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Dream: With great power comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later.

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Fell: I want to wake up with you every day for the rest of our lives

Sci: I wake up at 4:30 AM

Fell:

Fell: I want to see you at some point every day for the rest of our lives

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Sci: If you were to vacuum up jello through a metal tube, well I think that’d be a neat noise

Fell: I beg to differ

Sci: Then Beg

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Dust: You’re a lying, cheating, piece of shit! You’re not the person I married!

Blue: Fine then! We’re getting a divorce! And i’m taking the kids!

Dream, pushing the monopoly board away from them: …maybe we should stop playing…

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Dream: I relate to Belle because she loves books and likes people for who they are!

Ink: I relate to Tinkerbell because she needs attention or she dies.

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Killer: *dials 911*

Killer: hey i hate to be “that guy” but i glued myself to the ceiling again

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Ink: Things have actually been going really well with Error. Our friendship is in a really good place.

Ink: Last week I said, “Did you know the weiner dog is neither a weiner nor a dog?” Instead of saying, “Shut up, Ink,” they said, “Okay.”

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Lust: *signs a legal document with a glitter gel pen*

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Horror, dumping out a shopping bag full of Lunchables onto the table: Tonight, we feast.

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Error or Nightmare: *kicks “G” off Graveyard sign*

Error or Nightmare: Let’s get this party started.

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Reaper: Did Geno just tell me they loved me for the first time?

Cross: Yeah.

Reaper: And did I do finger guns back?

Cross: Yeah, you did.

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Sci: Name one time I haven’t acted professional

Geno: You’re holding a juice box right now

Sci: It’s to stop me from spilling my juice.

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*The Bad Sanses response to I love you*

Killer: Thanks fam!

Horror: oh no

Dust: *cries* I love you too

Cross: Sounds fake but okay

Error: *A flustered mess*

Nightmare: can i get a refund

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Sci: If you bite it and you die, it’s poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it’s venomous.

Blue: What if it bites me and it dies!?

Sci: Then you’re poisonous.

Dream: What if it bites itself and I die?

Sci: That’s voodoo.

Error: What if it bites me and someone else dies?

Sci: That’s correlation, not causation.

Horror: What if we bite each other, and neither of us die?

Ink & Killer at the same time: That’s kinky.

Sci: Oh my God.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blue: Truth or dare?

Lust: Dare

Blue: I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room

Lust: Hey Ink.

Ink: Yeah?

Lust: Could you move? I’m trying to get to Geno.

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Killer: Let me show you a picture from last night that really upset me

Horror: Okay, but in my defense, Dust bet me 50 cents I couldn’t drink all that shampoo.

Killer: That’s not what I wanted to- you drank SHAMPOO?!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*The group is getting into the car*

Lust: I’m driving.

Geno, out of view: Shotgun!

Sci, turning to face Geno: Aww! But you had it on the way here-

Everyone except Geno: WOAH-

Geno, holding a shotgun: No! I found a shotgun! And I want the front seat! *Pumps gun*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A random stranger: Go to Hell

Nightmare, tearing up: I wish I could

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Error: Dear friends, your Christmas gift this year… is me. That’s right, another year of friendship. Your membership has been renewed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blue: I’m going to defeat you with the power of friendship! ... And this knife I found.

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Dust: My life isn’t as glamorous as my wanted poster makes it look like.

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Killer: You know how I roll.

Killer: And I’m not talking about that time I fell into a pile of dung at the foot of a hill.

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Dream: Physically, yes, I could fight a bird. But emotionally? Imagine the toll.

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Killer: You seem familiar, have I threatened you before?

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Blue: Look. I may not be a saint, but it's not like I’ve killed anybody. I’m not an arsonist. I’ve never found a wallet outside of an IHOP and thought about returning it but saw the owner lived out of state so just took the cash and dropped the wallet back on the ground.

Fell: Okay, that's really specific, and that makes me think that you definitely did do that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Horror: Man, I only ever see you awake, do you ever shut down or stop running?

Dust: Oh, I’m always running

Dust: The question is from what

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Blue: WHAT’S YOUR TYPE

Fell: Anything, honestly, but nerds especially

Blue, desperately, as Fell bleeds out: YOUR BLOOD TYPE

Fell: Oh! B positive.

Blue: DONT TRY TO CHEER ME UP JUST TELL ME YOUR BLOOD TYPE

Fell:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Horror: So what’s for dinner?

Dust, staring at the food they just burnt: Regret.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nightmare: Hey, you want some leftovers?

Cross: What's that?

Nightmare: You've never had leftovers???

Cross: No, because I'm not a quitter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nightmare: You often use humor to deflect trauma

Cross: Thank you

Nightmare: I didn't say that was a good thing

Cross: What I'm hearing is, you think I'm funny

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Sci, pointing: May I sit there?

Fell: That's my lap

Sci: That doesn't answer my question, Fell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blue: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life

Dream: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?

Blue: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.

Ink: edible

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'Can I copy the homework?'

Horror: I can help you with it!

Killer: Yeah, sure.

Dust: Bold of you to assume I did the homework.

Error: lol nope.

Cross: Wait, we had homework?!?!?!

Nightmare: *Read 5:55pm*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nightmare: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat?

Horror: >:O language

Dust: Yeah watch your fucking language

Cross: OKAY WHO TAUGHT DUST THE FUCK WORD?

Error: 'The fuck word'.

Killer: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time

Dust: Oh my god they censored it

Error: Say fuck, Killer.

Dust: Do it, Killer. Say fuck.

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Killer: Croissants: dropped

Horror: Road: works ahead

Dust: BBQ sauce: on my titties

Cross: Shavacado: fre

Error: Miss Keisha: fuckin dead

Nightmare:

Nightmare, grumpy: I didn’t understand a single word of that and I hate every single one of you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nightmare: Everytime I hear someone talking about updog, I’m torn between not wanting to fall for it and wanting to help them complete their joke.

Horror: Okay, but what is updog?

Dust: Updog is a long sausage in a bun, often served with ketchup, mustard, onions, and/or relish.

Cross: Not, that’s a hot dog. An updog is when a new version or patch of an application is released.

Error: No, that's an update. You’re thinking of the fourth largest city in Sweden.

Killer: Surely, that’s Uppsala, where’s updog is the giant spider in Harry Potter.

Nightmare: That’s Aragog. Updog is a symbol conventionally used for an arbitrarily small number in analysis proofs.

Cross: You’re thinking of epsilon. Updog is an upward-moving air current.

Dust: No, that’s an updraft. An updog is the modern version of a henway.

Horror: What’s a henway??

Nightmare: Oh, about five pounds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killer: Dumbest scar stories, go!

Horror: I burned my tongue once drinking tea.

Error: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and burned it.

Cross: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade.

Dust: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it on my hand and I got a really bad burn.

Nightmare:

Nightmare: I have emotional scars.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killer: *Posts a super low-quality image to the group chat*

Horror: If I had a dollar for every pixel in this image, I’d have 15 cents

Killer: If I had a dollar for every ounce of rage I felt in my body after I read this text, I would have enough money to buy a cannon to fire at you

Error: Actually I did the math, Horror would have $225, not $0.15.

Horror: Fam I’m right here....

Cross: If I had a dollar I would buy a can of soda :)

Killer: while you’re there could you buy me an apply juice please?

Cross: Sorry I only have a dollar

Killer: :(

Error: Hey I just realized my friend is right, Horror would have $22,500 because it's a dollar for every pixel, not a cent

Cross: If I had $22,500 I would buy a can of soda and an apply juice

Error: You can buy anything you want with $22,500

Dust: Yeah and they want soda and apply juice

Error: Apply juice to what

Nightmare: Directly to the forehead

Horror: Great chat everyone

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killer: There are seven chairs and ten kids. What do you do?

Horror: Have everyone stand.

Cross: Bring three more chairs.

Error: The most important ones can sit down.

Dust: Kill three.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killer: You're a loose cannon, Horror.

Horror: No, I'm not. I'm a cannon maybe, but a loose cannon? Is that what you think of me?

Error: I think you play by your own rules.

Cross: No way, they think rules were made to be broken.

Killer: Those are all attributes of a loose cannon.

Horror: No, I'm just a reckless renegade. Dust is a loose cannon.

Dust: *smashes a chair*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cross: Are we really going to let Error keep Horror?

Killer: We kept Dust.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killer: Good morning.

Horror: Good morning.

Error: Good morning.

Cross: You all sound like robots, try spicing it up a bit.

Dust: MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killer: What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything?

Horror: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies

Dust: Socks are Feetie Heaties

Cross: Forks are Stabby Grabbies

Horror: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties

Dust: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies

Cross: Stamps are Lickie Stickies

Error, annoyed: You are disappointments

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dust: What’s something you guys are better than Killer at?

Error: Mario Kart.

Cross: Yeah, video games.

Horror: Emotional vulnerability.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dust: Poison is a magic transmutation potion that turns people into corpses.

Horror: This knife is actually a magic wand.

Cross: Meet me in the Denny’s parking lot for a wizard duel.

Killer: *cocks gun* Magic missile.

Error: What the fuck is wrong with you people.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lust: If I die, my funeral is going to be the biggest party ever and you’re all invited

Geno: If?

Sci: Great, the only party I’ve ever been invited to and he might not even die.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lust, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him

Geno: You did WHAT–

Sci: William Snakepeare

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lust: Fitness tip: never stop pushing yourself. Some say 8 hours of sleep is enough. Why not keep going? Why not 9? Why not 10? Strive for greatness.

Geno: Next time you’re working out do 15 push ups instead of 10. Run 3 miles instead of 2. Eat a whole cake instead of just a slice. Burn your ex’s house down. You can do it. I believe in you.

Sci: There were so many mixed messages in that I can’t-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lust: I can’t believe you live nearby, and you won’t let anyone crash at your place.

Geno: You people already know too much about me.

Sci: I know exactly three facts about you, and one of them is that you won’t let any of us crash at your place.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lust: Would you stab your best friend in the leg for 10 million gold?

Geno: You stab me, and then when my leg gets better, we buy a big-ass house.

Sci: You can stab me too, then we'll have 20 million.

Geno: Good thinking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lust: 'Person of interest' is almost too flattering.

Lust: Like, if the police were to pound on my door and go, 'A man has been murdered in your building and you are a person of interest,' I'd be like, 'Moi? Oh, do go on.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

230 notes · View notes

wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Stark Spangled Rebirth

Chapter 3: You Look Taller

Summary: Steve is transformed into the world’s first Super Soldier, but after a bomb is detonated in the SSR lab, he is soon putting his new found strength to the test.

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Word Count- 7.5k ish

A/N: I might have taken a few liberties here with the way things worked in the Army in the 40s but, let’s face it, no more than the MCU did! Any mistakes are my own. I’ll probably spot them once posted but, whatever!

This series is my contribution of sorts to the CATF 10 Year Anniversary Challenge.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

SSR Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 2

Steve didn’t sleep a wink that night. His mind was in overdrive, his body spiking with just about as many contrasting emotions one could possibly feel all at once. Excitement, fear, pride, concern, uncertainty, determination…and then there were his thoughts about Katie and what they’d done last night. He was conflicted about that as well. On the one hand it had been so wrong, to have rubbed one another to release through their clothes, without even courting so to speak. It went against everything his Ma had taught him about treating a dame with respect, instead he’d gone head and behaved just like Bucky normally did when he paraded around in his uniform, using it to pick up any woman he could.

But on the other, nothing had ever felt so damned right to him before in his life.

He still couldn’t quite believe it, although the evidence it had happened was plain to see in his pants which he’d hastily changed and hidden in the bottom of his trunk. What he was having trouble processing was why. Why a dame like that had picked a guy like him. He still wasn’t completely convinced she wasn’t acting out of pity. Pity that he was about to undergo some transformation and had never been touched that way before.

But then she’d admitted that she hadn’t either. “What was it you said about waiting for the right partner?”

Maybe she did actually feel something for him. And whilst it hadn’t been the most conventional beginning, perhaps it might morph into something else?

With a groan he shook his head, who was he kidding? It was June, 1943 and they were in the middle of a war. He was about to be injected with some kind of serum that was either going to turn him into a soldier with enhanced capabilities or…well, he didn’t want to think about the 'or'. Either way, he knew what should be at the forefront of his mind, and a relationship with Katie Stark was not it.

He went about his morning routine as normal. Thanks to the SSR’s programme being covert, most people on the base completely ignored him as usual, which suited him fine. The last thing he wanted was people asking him questions about how he was feeling, because he simply didn’t know. This time, once he was dressed he ensured all his belongings were packed ready to be taken to his new barracks, wherever they were going to be and no sooner had he done that the door opened and he snapped to attention, saluting the soldier that had arrived along with Agent Carter.

“Hello Steve," she smiled at him.

“Good morning, Ma’am.” He said, his hand, dropping to his side and he relaxed as she instructed him to be at ease.

“Are you ready?” She asked.

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Good, follow me then.”

Grabbing his hat he headed after her, walking in silence through the camp, his eyes focussed directly ahead. Eventually he was led around to the main office buildings, outside of which a car was waiting. Peggy walked around one side where the driver opened the door for her and Steve snapped himself out of his thoughts and climbed into the other side, shutting the door behind him.

The two or so hour drive from New Jersey to their destination was quiet. Agent Carter made a little small talk, but for the most she was silent or conversing with the driver. That said, it seemed to fly by in comparison to when he had taken the trip the other way a little under a week ago. As he glanced at the buildings passing them by, one by one they started to get familiar.

“I know this neighborhood," Steve said absentmindedly as he looked out of the window. “I got beat up in that alley.” He continued watching his finger pointing out of the window, his eyebrows raised as he spotted another familiar landmark, “and that parking lot.” Another pause as his head dropped slightly, eyes on his hands which were clasped on his lap, “and behind that diner.”

“Did you have something against running away?” Peggy asked and Steve took a deep breath, shaking his head as he remembered his Ma’s words to him.

“You start running they’ll never let you stop.” He explained, once more glancing out of the window, “You stand up, push back. Can’t say no forever, right?” He gave a shrug and once more his eyes fell to his hands. He stared at them, and the longer he stared the more he thought back.

Hands that had last night traced the soft curves of Agent Stark’s hips, breasts. The vision coming in so clear, nearly like a picture show and it caused him to swallow a little, his throat and mouth feeling dry and he couldn’t help but wish that it was Katie in the car with him, not Agent Carter. Whilst the pretty, British woman sat on the seat beside him had always been pleasant enough to him, there was something about Katie that just kept him grounded if there ever were a word to describe the way she made him feel. He never once felt jittery in her presence yet now, as he sat there being quizzed on something that was actually quite personal, he was starting to feel a little angsty.

“I know a little of what that’s like. To have every door shut in your face.” Peggy spoke gently as she looked at him and Steve met her gaze for a second before she looked forward once more, and his mind strayed back to something Katie had said last night.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He looked down at his hands. “Katie…I mean Agent Stark told me about how people weren’t exactly open to the pair of you joining the SSR or the Army.”

“She did?” Agent Carter looked at him, her brown drawing ever so slightly into a frown.

Steve nodded, “last night.” And no sooner had the words left his mouth his eyes widened as he realised he’d outed the fact Katie had come to his barracks. Peggy looked at him, an immaculately shaped brow arched slightly, rouged lips curling up into a smirk at one side as Steve began to babble out an excuse. “She came to check on me, along with Dr Erskine. I mean, well, just as he was leaving that is. There was…we just…”

“You don’t need to explain. What you and Agent Stark do is nothing to do with me,” Peggy shook her head, the corner of her lips twitching as Steve hastily looked away, out of the window, his cheeks burning. “I do know one thing though...."

“What’s that?” Steve’s head whipped round to look at her.

“She’s soft on you.” Peggy replied simply “That’s why she’s been torn ever since you got picked to be our candidate.”

“Torn?”

“In case it goes wrong.” Peggy shrugged, "Or you change in more ways than physically which means you’re no longer the man she…” Peggy trailed off, licking her lips taking a deep breath before she continued “…the man she clearly cares for.”

Steve met her eyes for a second before he looked away, his stomach now twisting in knots that had nothing to do with the procedure he was about to undergo. But the warmth and excitement he had initially felt at what Peggy had said died all too fast because of course it would be just his luck to finally meet a gal that enjoyed his company, liked him for who he was, a gal who he felt comfortable with and attracted to, just as he was about to undergo whatever the hell this procedure entailed before he shipped off to goodness knows where.

Fate was a cruel mistress sometimes.

The rest of the journey passed in silence, and it wasn’t long before the car pulled up at the side of a fairly busy street and Steve frowned, following Agent Carter’s lead, climbing out of the vehicle. He took a quick look around. There were plenty of people on the sidewalks in the summer sun, going about their everyday business, none paying him any attention.

“This way.” Agent Carter spoke and he spun to follow her, taking a look up at the fairly non-descript shop called ‘Brooklyn Antiques’ which she was leading him towards.

“What are we doing here?” he asked.

“Follow me.” Peggy completely ignored his question and instead walked into the shop, Steve behind her, placing his hat on his head. The bell above the door rang as Peggy pushed it open, Steve pausing to shut it behind him as Agent Carter strolled into the dimly lit, crowded shop. It smelt of old leather, wax and furniture polish and was crammed full of all sorts of intriguing items that Steve would normally have found fascinating.

But as it stood he was just plain confused.

Peggy stopped still as an old woman with grey hair, clad in a floaty dress and a pink cardigan emerged through a set of heavy drapes and stopped, smiling at them both. “Wonderful Weather this morning, aint it?” she spoke.

“Yes, but I always carry an umbrella.” Peggy replied.

At her words the woman gave an almost in perceptible nod and moved to the desk which held the cash register. Steve heard a faint buzz and then Peggy gently gestured once more for him to follow her. He did so as she walked through the drapes the woman had emerged from into a crowded store room of sorts which held photos, heavy gilded frames, basically everything his Ma would have labelled junk. He stopped besides Peggy as she looked at a huge book shelf which covered nearly the entire back wall and then to his absolute astonishment the book shelf simply opened towards him revealing that it was actually a set of solid steel doors.

Steve’s mouth dropped open as he was now facing a huge corridor which was in use by a number of military and medical staff walking by. Agent Carter stepped in and he did the same, following her down, glancing every so often to his side at the Military Police Officers and soldiers, trying to figure out how the hell all of this was hidden from public sight on the outside. Eventually they reached a set of double doors which were pulled open and Steve found himself on the mezzanine balcony of a huge circular room filled with machinery, some kind of pod in the middle of the chamber he was looking over. It was full of doctors and technicians, all dressed in white lab coats and the entire room fell silent as everyone looked up at him. He immediately spotted Katie, stood by Dr Erskine. His eyes locked onto hers and even from the distance he was away he could see they were shining in the light of the lab.

Agent Carter took a deep breath and tuned to her right, Steve hastily following her down the metal steps to the lower part of the chamber. He strode over to where Dr Erskine was waiting, file in hand besides Katie who smiled at him.

“Hi.” She said gently and he smiled back at her, swallowing a little as his attention turned to Dr Erskine as the doctor spoke.

“Good morning.” He smiled, shaking Steve’s hand when suddenly a camera flashed as a photographer who Steve hadn’t noticed snapped a shot, causing Steve to blink a little. “Please, not now.” Erskine protested and the photographer made a hasty retreat, ushered away by Peggy as she followed him from the chamber, directing him away from the equipment and up the stairs to the side.

Steve turned to his right, looking at the pod, his eyes roving all the dials and the various components, his chest expanding as he took a deep breath.

“Are you ready?” Katie asked softly and Steve nodded his head, turning back to her.

“Good.” Erskine spoke. “Take off your shirt, your tie and your hat.”

“Maybe the hat first.” Katie quipped, pointing out the order Erskine had said the clothing items in was a little awry and Erskine looked at her, sarcastically. She met his stare with an equally sassy one of her own, a cheeky grin on her face as she shrugged.

Steve did as he was told, handing his items of clothing off to a nurse who smiled, taking it away before Erskine directed Steve up the steps to the left of the pod. He climbed up, shuffled around slightly as Katie watched him lay down, his head on the leather headrest at the top.

“Comfortable?” Katie asked him.

“It’s a little big.” Steve joked, smiling and she gave a soft chuckle, reaching out to touch his arm. Her hand was surprisingly warm and she left it there for just long enough before she pulled back as Erskine appeared by her side, smiling. “You save me any of that schnapps?” Steve looked at him.

“Not as much as I should have.” Erskine almost grimaced, “sorry. Next time” at that he stepped back. “Mr. Stark, how are your levels?”

Steve glanced to his left and for the first time caught a glimpse of Katie’s brother up close as he strode towards them, clad in a smart pair of slacks, white shirt, tie and waistcoat.

“Levels at 100%.” Howard replied as he stopped besides his sister, taking a look at Steve. Now they were side by side, the resemblance between the two was clear to see. Same nose, cheekbones, but Katie’s hair was a lighter shade, her eyes a warm, striking green where Howard’s were a deep brown.

“Good.” Erskine turned away as Howards eyes roved over Steve a little.

“We may dim half the lights in Brooklyn, but we are ready,” Howard smiled, “as we’ll ever be.”

“He’s not a damned fish in a bowl, Howie.” Katie nudged her brother as he was still staring at Steve. Howard turned to face her, his eyebrow arched, before he gave Steve one last look and headed off towards some kind of machine in the far corner of the room.

“Ass.” Katie shook her head before she glanced at Steve. “Are you sure you wanna do this?” She dropped her voice, “If you’re having any…” “I’m not.” Steve shook his head.

“Okay.” She took a deep breath, and for a second looked as though she was going to say something else but she was interrupted by Erskine.

“Agent Stark? Don’t you think you would be more comfortable in the booth?”

“Oh, erm, yeah, of course. Sorry.” She nodded and turned once more to look back at Steve. Again, she made to say something, but clearly decided against it. Instead she reached out, gave his hand a soft squeeze before she walked away. Steve watched her go and, as she approached the stairs, she stopped and looked back at him, her face softening once more into an almost shy little smile before she turned away again.

Steve’s head rolled back round, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. His heart was racing now, and he wasn’t quite sure whether that was all down to the procedure or the fact that her hand on his had jolted another memory of their time together the previous night. Luckily, before he had time to dwell on it too much, there was a loud booming noise as Erskine loudly tapped a microphone.

“Do you hear me? Is this on?” Satisfied that it was, the doctor turned and looked up at the small group gathered to watch in the glass walled room on the level above the atrium. “Ladies and gentlemen, today we take not another step towards annihilation, but the first step on the path to peace.”

As Erskine spoke two nurses pulled down the large rectangular shaped pads at either side of the chamber, laying them flush to Steve’s chest.

“We begin with a series of micro injections into the subjects major muscle groups. The serum infusion will cause immediate cellular change.” Erskine continued as the nurses retrieved the vials of blue coloured liquid, slotting them into the appropriate receptacles along the side of the chamber by Steve’s hips. “And then to stimulate growth, the subject will be saturated with Vita-Rays.”

Erskine walked back to Steve’s side as a nurse approached him with a syringe. She inserted it into Steve’s shoulder and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as she pulled the needle out of his skin.

“That wasn’t so bad.” Steve spoke, pleasantly surprised at how easy that had been. He wasn’t a huge fan of needles, having spent most of his childhood one way or another being stabbed by them for his various ailments, but he’d learned to cope with them.

However, his relief was short lived.

“That was penicillin.” Erskine looked at him and Steve felt not only apprehension creeping back into his system, but a deep embarrassment at being so dumb as to think it would be that simple.

Erskine then cleared his throat and spoke once more to the others in the room. “Serum infusion beginning in five, four…” at that two further pads like the one on his chest lowered, cuffing his arms a little “…three, two…” Erskine gently patted Steve’s shoulder “…one.”

Steve felt the sharp cone-like spikes of the pads attached to his body piercing his skin and he could actually feel the serum as it flowed into his body. It was cold, like he’d dipped each limb into an icy lake, and the shock of it forced his eyes wide open.

“Now, Mr. Stark,” he heard Erskine say and, after a second or two he felt the pod move into an upright positions, the sides and top parts enclosing him inside. He gave a snort as he realised that the glass screen at the front, designed for whoever was in here to be able to see out of was a good 6 inches too high.

Steve took a deep breath and then there was a little knock on the outside of the capsule.

“Steven, can you hear me?” Erskine asked.

“It’s probably too late to go to the bathroom, right?” Steve joked, making light of what was happening, the sweat already beading on his brow. And, if he was honest, he probably could have happily peed right then, more out of nerves than anything else.

“We will proceed.” Steve heard Erskine say and then a few seconds later the capsule he was in was flooded with a warm light, as the Vita Rays were turned on.

“That’s ten percent.” Steve could hear Howard’s voice. “Twenty percent. Thirty…that’s forty percent.”

As the count increased so did the intensity of the light and heat. What started off feeling like a pleasant dose of summer sun was rapidly becoming unbearable. Even the brightest sunlight he’d ever been in on Coney Island during the summer was nothing compared to this. He skin felt like it was on fire.

“That’s fifty percent. Sixty. Seventy.”

Despite his best attempts, the burning was simply too much and Steve couldn’t keep the yell of pain from bursting out of his mouth any longer as the vita rays washed over him. He was hot, hotter than he had ever been before. His skin was bubbling almost as if his blood was boiling similar to a kettle of water. He was vaguely aware of voices outside the chamber and herd Katie’s loud yell as it rang around the air.

“Shut it down.”

Erskine’s voice hit his ears as the doctor banged on the chamber he was in “Steven!”

“You heard her, shut it down!” Agent Carter’s voice was clear and then he heard Erskine once more as the Doctor frantically shouted.

“Kill the reactor, Mr. Stark! Turn it off! Kill it! Kill the reactor!”

“No, don’t!” Steve yelled back, finally finding his voice. There was no way he was quitting, not after he’d come this far. He could take this. Pain was nothing, he felt it every day of his damned life. “I can do this!”

Famous last words. The heat increased, the pain increased, it was too much. Every muscle in his body was searing in agony and it felt like someone was lancing him with red hot needles over and over again…

But then suddenly it went dark. The pain was gone, the heat was gone and all Steve could feel now was an overwhelming sense of calm and tiredness even, like he’d just been on another one of those damned runs with the unit. His chest was heaving as he gulped in air, his head falling to the side as panted, waiting for his body to recover. After waiting, for what seemed like forever but was in reality mere seconds, he heard Erskine call out to Howard again and then the doors to the pod opened, the cool air hitting Steve’s perspiring skin.

He stumbled out of the pod supported by two people, he had no idea who, as his eyes were screwed shut, his head bowed as he took deep gulps of air. His legs felt heavy and he was a little unbalanced, as if his centre of gravity had changed somewhat, but as he took a shaky step forward he noticed how clear his chest was. His breathing wasn’t wheezy in the slightest and with every breath he took he felt stronger, less lightheaded. All in all, despite feeling completely overwhelmed he felt good.

“I did it.” He panted a little, his eyes still closed as he took a shaky step forward.

“Yeah, yeah. I think we did it.” Erskine’s voice came from his right, followed by Howard’s from his left which was laced with pride.

“We actually did it.”

“How do you feel?” Another familiar voice spoke and with a deep breath he straightened up and looked down at Katie before he glanced around the chamber and realised that for the first time in his life he was looking down at people.

“Taller.” He answered a little facetiously, glancing at Katie as she reached out to touch his chest, swallowing a little as she hastily withdrew her hand.

“You look taller.” She handed him a T-shirt she took off another member of the nursing staff. Steve took it with a thanks and moved to pull it over his head, his breathing finally evening out and he turned to face a doctor who approached him a little nervously.

“Mr. Rogers, we just need to-“

But whatever it was that they needed Steve never found out as at that point there was a loud explosion from the room over the atrium, showering them in glass. Instinctively, Steve pulled Katie towards him, curling his body around hers to shield her from the debris before he stood up tall as he heard Erskine yelling.

“Stop him!”

Then there was a gun shot and, as he wheeled round, he saw Erksine drop to the floor. Katie pushed past Steve whipping a gun from her hip taking aim as the culprit ran up the stairs with the two female agents in persuit.

Steve knelt beside Erskine, his eyes locking onto the doctor's as he struggled for air. Erskine opened his mouth, but shut it again, and Steve realised from the blood that was pooling around the doctors body, there was nothing he could do. Erskine raised his right hand, and simply prodded Steve’s chest gently, right above his heart, similar to the way he’d pointed at him the night before.

“Not a perfect soldier, but a good man…”

The words echoed in Steve’s brain as he watched Erskine’s eyes close as his head rolled to the right, his breathing stopped. Steve took a deep breath of his own and felt another heat radiating through his body, this one out and out anger as he raised his head slowly to look at the stairs the suspect had run up mere moments ago. His jaw clenching he sprang to his feet and ran off, taking the steps two at a time.

As he sprinted through the facility he could hear gunshots and explosions from the street and as he emerged into the street he saw the woman from earlier led on the floor, not moving, a wound to her chest. Vaulting over her he saw Katie to his left tending to someone who was down on the sidewalk, whilst Agent Carter was stood in the road, un-moving, arm raised as she shot at a Yellow Taxi which was driving straight for them. He threw himself at Peggy, taking her out of the path of danger as the car sped past

“I had him!” Agent Carter said with an air of annoyance as they both climbed to their feet.

“Sorry!” Steve yelled as he started to run after the car, surprised momentarily at the way his legs just seemed to move with little or no effort, covering far more ground than he was used to. He picked up the pace, tracking the car as he went, taking a short cut down a road to his left. But he was going too fast and, as he rounded a corner, he lost control over his new power and crashed straight through the window of a Bridal Wear store, taking out the display. He jumped back up, straight onto the street, tossing another apology over his shoulder as he cut down a narrow alleyway with a chainmail fence at the bottom.

The fence was ten feet tall, easily, and Steve picked up speed a little more with the aim of jumping as high up it as he could get before scrambling over the top, but as he took off from the floor he realised that he was going to clear it. He was going to clear a ten foot fucking fence.

Tucking his legs up, he landed easily and ran out onto a street full of cars, his hands held up, protests of “woah, whoa, whoa” slipping form his mouth automatically as they all skidded to a stop trying to avoid him. He spun to his left, spotted the cab and continued his chase as it weaved itself in and out of the traffic.

He was gaining on it now and he dug a little deeper, realising he had a lot more energy in his tank, his bare feet slapping the wet concrete of the ground. As he drew closer to the car he knew that the only way to get the vehicle to stop was by getting inside it, and to do that he needed to physically get hold of it first of all. An idea suddenly came to him as he saw a car in front of him and he approached he hopped up onto the trunk then the roof, and then to the car in front before jumping onto the back of a truck. With a final leap he flung himself at the yellow taxi landing flat on the roof, his hands gripping either side of the sills above the doors as it began to sharply weave side to side. It took a sharp turn to the left, then right, then left again, forcing Steve to adjust his hold as it tore down a narrow street before emerging on the road which led to the pier. This gave Steve a little time to steady himself and he rose tentatively onto his hands and knees before there was a loud bang and a bullet shot through the roof of the car. Another few shots came, Steve dodging them all as he slid down the side of the car, wrenching the passenger door open. But before he could climb in, the man shot at him, meaning Steve had to let go with his right arm to avoid taking the bullet straight in the chest, but by shooting at him, his target had taken his eyes off the road, meaning he hadn’t noticed the two trucks emerging in front of him. The taxi crashed straight into them and flipped over sideways, beginning to roll and Steve let go, tumbling forward onto the floor before he came to a stop.

Steve rose to his feet and headed forwards as his target crawled from the car. He watched as the man stood, pointing his gun towards Steve and shot, missing him, the various people screaming as the gun went off. Steve picked up the door of the car which was lying in the road and held it in front of him as the man shot twice, the second bullet coming through the door and grazing the left hand side of Steve’s abdomen. As he peered round the side of the door he noticed that the man had now taken a young boy hostage, his arm pinned around his chest as he dragged him backwards, the boy’s mother screaming and begging for him to stop. Steve tossed the door to the side, following him, his right hand clutching at the wound to his left.

“Get back!” The man warned with the boy dangling in his arms as he backed away. Steve dodged another bullet, flattening himself against the wall. The man ran off towards the dockside and Steve followed using a large iron buoy as shield from another incoming shot. He hastily followed, keeping his back to the damp brick of the shipping company building, and as he peered round the arch he saw the man raise his gun and press the barrel to the boys head.

Steve’s blood ran cold, “wait, don’t! Don’t!” He protested, approaching with his arms up. At that the man pointed the gun at Steve and pulled the trigger, Steve automatically flinching as he awaited the shot that never came because the gun was empty. As he had nothing else to do, the hostile dragged the boy towards the side of the docks and Steve realised what he was intending to do.

“No! Don’t!”, but it was too late. With a shove the kid went flying into the water and the man turned, sprinting away. Steve ran to the edge to see the kid treading water, looking up at him.

“Go get him! I can swim!”

Decision made, Steve sprinted after his target who had disappeared, but as he ran he noticed to the right in the water some kind of sleek, black submarine pulling away. With a spring off the edge Steve dove into the icy, cold water, swimming in the vessel's slipstream. Whether the sub wasn’t going that fast, or if it was his ability to simply swim faster, Steve had no idea, but he caught it easily, punching straight through into the cockpit, flooding it with water. He then wrenched the canopy open and pulled the man sharply upwards sending him flying straight out of the surface and onto the cold stone of the dockside where he landed with a thud.

Steve followed quickly, climbing a set of steps out of the water and as the man got up, Steve saw the flash of a blade in his hand. With a reflex that was purely automatic, he dodged out of the way aiming a kick to the man’s chin which sent him sprawling backwards. The knife flew from his hand, but so did a familiar vial which Steve suddenly realised was full of Erskine’s serum. It shattered on the floor, the blue liquid pooling on the damp cobbles as Steve gripped the lapels of the man’s jacket, pulling him harshly forwards.

“Who the hell are you?” He demanded.

“The first of many," the man spoke in a thick accent. “Cut off one head-” at that he popped a tooth loose and swallowed it, looking at Steve, his jaw set, “-two more shall take its place.”

Steve frowned, perplexed as none of that made any sense, until he spoke again, through the foam that had now started to bubble from his mouth.

“Hail HYDRA!”

With that the man gave a little grunt, his pupils completely dilated as he grew heavy and limp in Steve’s grip. Steve let go, the body falling to the ground as he straightened up, his chest heaving as he stared at the dead man on the floor.

Steve couldn’t help the disappointment flooding his system at the fact he hadn’t managed to capture him alive. But that said, whilst he hadn’t managed to find out who he was exactly, he now knew who he was working for and at least they’d managed to stop the serum from falling into the wrong hands.

The serum.

At that Steve glanced down at his hands, which were both significantly larger, then to his forearms where the muscles flexed as he opened and closed his fists. With everything that had happened he hadn’t had chance to appreciate the extent to which the procedure had actually enhanced him. He’d run with a speed he had never thought possible, his lungs had stretched to a capacity that now, he thought about it, stunned him, his ability to swim the way he had, leap, the pure athleticism he had displayed in that short ten minute chase was astonishing.

His hands flew to his stomach to find a hard set of abs, his fingers tracing the definition of the planes of muscle under the wet t-shirt which clung to his body. His hands moved upwards almost tentatively, reaching the hard curve of his pecs and it was at that point a voiced broke through his stunned thoughts.

“Steve!”

He looked up to see Agent Stark running towards him. Behind her, Agent Carter and a few other soldiers and police officers were working to keep the now assembled crowd on the pier back. “Are you okay? You’re bleeding.”

Steve glanced down at his shirt and noticed for the first time the blood on the white material. He shook his head.

“He shot me but it's just a graze, I’m fine.” He jerked his head towards the guy on the ground by his feet. “More than can be said for him…”

She glanced down at the body on the floor, blinking as if she was seeing the dead man for the first time before she dropped to her knees, her fingers pressing into his neck checking for a pulse.

“Did he drown?”

“No.” Steve said, and he quickly explained about the submarine and pulling the man from the water. As he explained about the vial of serum, he saw Katie’s eyes flick to the broken glass on the floor before her face darted back to Steve as he told her about the man having loosened his tooth and bit something. “I’m not sure what it was but…”

“He bit something?” Katie’s entire face changed into a look of shock, her eyes darting side to side as she wrenched the guys mouth open, her fingers jamming straight inside.

Steve grimaced. “What…”

“Son of a bitch.” she pulled her hand back and knelt back on her heels, wiping her hands very ungracefully on the side of her skirt.

“I’m not…”

“Cyanide capsule.” She sighed, “a lot of the intelligence organisations provide them to their undercover agents and they keep them hidden in a false tooth. If you’re caught, you can effectively kill yourself before you’re taken and, well…”

“Tortured?” Steve finished for her. Katie took a deep breath and shrugged.

“Questioned was the word I was going to use but…” she shrugged, looking around. “He was clearly a Nazi Spy.”

Steve looked at her, nodding. “He was HYDRA.”

“HYDRA?”

“Heil HYDRA.” Steve looked down at the dead man, “last thing he said before he died.”

Katie bit her lip, “fuck,” she mumbled, before she looked up at Steve. “Sorry, just, well Erskine warned Phillips not to be complacent about Schmidt but Phillips was adamant that Hitler was the big threat.” She bowed her head a little, her shoulders slumping and Steve took a deep breath as he realised that the Doctor was no longer with them having died in his arms little over ten minutes ago. It left him feeling hollow, sick even and from the looks of it Katie was feeling just as bad.

But now wasn’t the time.

“I err…” Steve cleared his throat a little, composing himself. “I’m not following? Why did Erskine differentiate? I mean, I thought HYDRA were Hitler’s deep science organisation?”

Katie glanced down once more before she turned her pretty face back to Steve, “Yes, they are. But Erskine always said Schmidt had ambitions beyond Hitler’s. Something Peggy backed up from her time undercover.”

At that point she made to stand and automatically Steve offered her his hand. She took it and he made to pull her up, but with his new strength he was far more forceful than he had meant to be and she gave a little yelp of surprise as she was jerked straight into his chest.

“Easy Soldier.” She gasped, her hands falling to his biceps as she steadied herself.

“Sorry," he hastily apologised, his own hands settling gently on either side of her ribcage, the rough tweed of her uniform jacket prickly under the pads of his fingers. “I’m not used to…” He trailed off as he realised that not only was he looking down at her now, but his new large frame completely dwarfed hers.

“Don’t worry about it.” Her voice was equally breathy as his, her eyes still on his face and she gave him a little smile before she moved one hand upwards, gently cupping his cheek, almost as if she was checking something, which to be fair, she might have been. Steve had no idea what he looked like, he hadn’t seen a mirror yet. The only parts of him he’d managed to get a glimpse at so far were his arms and legs.

What he did know was that her touch was blazing on his skin, more than it had been the night before. He could hear her breathing too, and he could see every single detail on her face and her eyes. Not only were they green, but they were the most gorgeous shade of green he had ever seen in his life. He could see the dots of brown speckled throughout and the slight ring of amber surrounding her irises, reminding him of the sun. Full of warmth and power….

“Hey, you okay?” Katie frowned.

“Yeah, erm, I just, I can see better.” Steve replied simply, as her hand gently curled in on itself as she dropped it to her side. “Has it…” he began to ask and Katie smiled, shaking her head.

“Still handsome.” She smiled, and Steve felt his neck flush with heat again before a voice cut through their moment.

“Did you get it?” Colonel Phillips was striding towards them. Katie moved back from Steve, turning towards her Superior, steeling her composure.

“No,” she shook her head, before gesturing to the shattered vial on the floor.

“Shit.” Phillips exclaimed with a groan.

“But neither did they.” Katie looked at him, before she turned to look at Steve once more, “And there is one upside to all this…”

“Don’t you dare tell me to look on the Brightside, Stark.” Phillips glared at her as she took a deep breath, realising her head, chin jutting defiantly towards him.

“At least we know it works," she said simply.

Phillips looked at her, then to Steve, before he gave a snort. “One isn’t enough.”

Steve inhaled deeply, his frustration mounting but it was Agent Stark that spoke next.

“Well, one is all you’ve got. I suggest you start treating him with a little more respect seeing as he just chased down a damned HYDRA operative through twelve blocks of Brooklyn, pulled him out of some underwater craft and took a bullet for his troubles.”

Phillips’ jaw twitched at the way he was being spoken to and Steve grimaced slightly in anticipation of the incoming dressing down Katie was going to get, but it never arrived.

“HYDRA?” Phillips blinked and Kate nodded.

“Yes, Sir.”

The man took a deep breath and then turned to Steve, his eyes travelling up and down his body “Rogers, you hurt?”

“No, Sir.”

Philips inhaled again and then turned to Peggy “Agent Carter, I want a recovery unit down here for this so called underwater craft. You two…” he spun back to face Steve and Katie, “back to the lab so the Medical Team can assess you. If you are truly the only super soldier I’m getting, then the last thing I want is you to drop dead of complications.”

“That means he cares," Katie looked up at Steve who glanced at her as he saw a smile tug at her lips.

“You’re gettin’ on my nerves,” Phillips pointed at her, before he gave her a filthy look and turned to leave.

“Is it authority in general you got a problem with or just him?” Steve asked after a moment or two and Katie let out a little chuckle.

“Believe it or not I actually like Chester.” She smiled, “I just enjoy irritating him more. Come on, we’re attracting a bit of a crowd so…” She gently squeezed his hand before she began walking the same way Colonel Philips had done a few moments before, Steve following, pausing slightly as he felt a tug on the side of his T-shirt. He stopped and turned to find the kid who he’d last seen bobbing up and down in the muggy water of the docks grinning up at him.

“That was swell!” The kid laughed and Steve raised his eyebrows.

“That’s not exactly the word I would use…”

“No, but the way you ran and jumped in and then threw him outta the water like BAM!” The kid smirked and Steve felt his neck growing warm at the praise, raising a hand to rub at the back of his neck. “What’s your name, Mister?”

“Err Steve.”

“Marty!” A voiced called and the boy turned, Steve following his gaze to see a woman who had been stood talking to a police officer, hastily making her way over. “Come on.”

“Ma’am.” Steve greeted her as she stopped in front of him, taking a breath.

“You saved him.” She said, her voice cracking.

“Oh, no, I…”

“Thank you,” she stood on her toes and kissed Steve’s cheek before she dropped an arm round her son’s shoulders and turned him away, gently talking to him.

Steve stood stock still for a moment, swallowing, before he turned to see Katie watching him, her eyebrow arched a little, smile spread across her pretty face.

“A regular superhero,” she teased and Steve rolled his eyes at her as he fell into step besides her.

“Hardly.” He scoffed, “I’m just a kid from Brooklyn.”

Katie stopped and turned to face him, shaking her head, “you still don’t get it do you?”

“Get what?” He frowned as she began to walk again.

“How many other kids from Brooklyn do you know that would have just done what you did?”

“Well its hardly a fair comparison is it?” Steve pointed out as they walked down the side of the building, Katie nodding to Agent Carter as they passed “How many others do you know that just got converted into…well, a Super Soldier or whatever the hell they’re calling me?”

“You had no idea what that serum had done, other than make you taller,” Katie shot back as they moved back towards the entrance of the pier. “But you took off after that guy, without so much as a second thought for your safety.”

“I just did what anyone would have done.” He sighed, a little uncomfortable at her praise.

She stopped at the side of a black car and turned to face him, her face soft, “no, you did what that kid from Brooklyn would have done.” Her eyes remained locked onto his before they were interrupted by an Army official who handed Steve a blanket. He took it with a thanks, wrapping it around his shoulders, despite the fact that he didn’t feel cold in the slightest, in fact he felt a pretty strong sense of warmth.

And as he watched Katie climb into the car he was pretty sure that wasn’t solely attributable to Erskine’s serum which was now coursing through his veins.

**** Chapter 4

#Stark Spangled Rebirth #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #Katie Stark #mcu #mcu fanfic #CATFA 10th anniversary challenge #chris evans #chris evans characters

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homeformyheart · 3 years

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Oh gosh the "A whisper in the ear" for Mason and Brooks pleeaase? 💕💕

thank you soso! this came together so fast 🥰 I really do love their dynamic. there are a couple small callbacks to things that happened in my others fics with these two: menage and dinner date.

author’s note: these prompts are so cute and thank you for requesting! this might be my favorite mason that I’ve written thus far. hope you all enjoy! copyright: all characters, except the oc detective, are owned by mishka jenkins @seraphinitegames. series/pairing: the wayhaven chronicles – mason x nb!detective (brooklyn kingston) rating/warnings: 16+; swearing based on/prompt: The way you said “I love you.” // 14. A whisper in the ear word count: 1.2k summary: mason willingly accompanies brooklyn to a sci-fi convention.

where to?

a sci-fi convention was the last fucking place mason wanted to be. bright lights, noisy gadgets, weird music, and the smell of humans and supernaturals crowding every one of his senses. it was far too easy to forget that they were walking around in one of the largest spaces available in the city. with only three exits. and no windows.

exactly the opposite of the kind of environment mason enjoyed.

he shuffled closer to brooklyn, her proximity dulling the raging headache pounding in his skull by more than a fraction. even surrounded by sensory overload, his fingers didn’t twitch for a cigarette. brooklyn’s scent and occasional touch was enough. he had stopped wondering why a long time ago – who was he to complain about something that provided him relief?

he glanced sideways at brooklyn, who was currently smiling ear-to-ear and practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her this excited. he noticed the bizarre, disorienting lights from the neighboring booths dancing around in her eyes, a soft blush on her cheeks, a thin sheen of sweat mottling wisps of hair against her forehead underneath a ridiculous baseball hat.

the hat in question said “police ‘public call’ box” but brooks had told him it didn’t have anything to do with her job but was referencing a show about… time travel, was it?

he couldn’t remember the specifics, but he did know that he’d never seen brooks wear a baseball cap in the two years that he’s known her. although, he supposes he never thought he’d be walking around a crowded space like this of his own volition. maybe he should’ve let nat come to this thing with brooklyn.

a few weeks earlier

brooklyn sped into the living room at a pace very unlike her usual poised, professional demeanor. “nat, the sci-fi convention i told you about will take place in the city! i was able to get two passes, would you like to come?”

before nat could respond, mason had slinked over to the two of them. “why wouldn’t you ask me to go, sweetheart?”

felix slowly glanced back and forth between them. “are you… volunteering to go to a very crowded and noisy event?”

mason ignored felix’s bait as brooklyn turned to him, stunned. they had gotten a lot closer over the past two years – at least, she’d like to think so judging by the amount of time they spent together without mason making sexual advances – but she would never have predicted he’d willingly subject himself to sensory overload.

“there’s going to be thousands of people there. it’ll be loud and i didn’t think it’d be your scene,” she said softly.

the knowing and understanding look on her face made his chest itch and he scratched at it absentmindedly. “what do i keep telling you?”

her smile brightened in a way that lit up the rest of her face and made that itch from before start to sting. “right. you go where i go.”

“you will be on-duty to protect the detective, mason. this is not a vacation. remember that,” ava warned.

mason had just given ava a look – not even bothering to retort with one of his remarks about how he can protect the detective and have fun with them too. he hadn’t had the urge to make those types of comments regarding brooklyn in a very long time.

his brow furrowed in thought, but whatever it was flit away quickly as the line seemed to move and brooklyn stepped eagerly forward, creating a small gap between them. he glared at the unacceptable amount of space between them. he stepped up next to her and slid an arm around her back, resting his hand on her hip and gently stroking the fabric of her shirt with his thumb.

“what can i do for you, little lady?” the person behind the booth – a forgettable face, in mason’s opinion – asked.

the frowns on both their faces appeared simultaneously.

“i may be ‘little,’ but i’m not a lady,” brooklyn said bluntly. mason noticed she was holding a small booklet in her hands with illustrations of superheroes or supernaturals or something like that on the cover.

“sure, whatever you say,” the man said quickly, but the flick of their eyes upward in a half-roll indicated otherwise. mason heard him mutter “fucking millennials” before plastering on a fake smile and turning back to brooklyn.

“what would you like? an autograph? a picture?”

“um,” brooklyn hesitated before answering, her voice unusually meek. her arms had already begun the motion of handing him her comic before she pulled them back. “a picture? if that’s okay.”

she moved to the other side of the booth after handing her phone to mason to stand next to the asshole, who very quickly wrapped his arm around brooklyn’s shoulder and pulled her in. mason raised the phone and took a few pictures quickly, but knew the smile on brooklyn’s face was forced and the excitement from before was nowhere to be seen.

she thanked the man and quickly walked over to where mason was standing off to the side, tucking her phone immediately away when he handed it to her.

“you okay?” he asked quietly.

“they do say that you should never meet your idols,” she chuckled, but the sound was hollow. “i’m sorry, i know this is all too much for you. we should just go.”

“come with me,” he said brusquely, grabbing her hand and heading back to where the asshole was currently taking pictures with a group of fans.

he reached for the comic in her hands and slammed it on the table loud enough that the man flinched in surprise.

“hey asshole. when someone asks you not to call them something, they’re asking for the bare minimum as a person and you will fucking respect that, got it?”

the man’s eyes widened and he swallowed nervously before nodding.

“good, you owe her an autograph.” mason pushed the comic toward him and glared as the man quickly signed it.

he didn’t see the awed look on brooklyn’s face as he handed her the signed comic and ushered her away from the booth. she took his hand and led him to the next aisle over, where the booths at the end seemed to have the least number of people.

it was still way too many for his taste, but he kept that to himself. holding her hand helped.

she looked up at him searchingly, eyes hopeful as she raised a hand to his cheek. he raised an eyebrow at her quizzically, whether it was at her behavior or at how his heartbeat seemed to suddenly quicken, he wasn’t sure.

she leaned in and mason stayed perfectly still. it didn’t seem like she was going in for a kiss – and he wasn’t going to presume – she was on her tiptoes and moving toward his ear. the softest whisper breezed past his ear, goosebumps gently rippling down his arms at the bit of sunshine she breathed out before settling back down on her feet.

he heard her. he always did.

she didn’t need him to say anything back because he was going to need time and space to figure things out. but she was still smiling at him like he was the fucking moon on a dark night guiding her way home.

he felt himself return her smile – the muscle movement clunky and unfamiliar – and hers grew even bigger.

“where to next, sweetheart?”

* * * * * taglist: @kelseaaa; @kat-tia801; @anotherbeingsworld; @crackerdumortain; @gloynporslen; @writer-ish; @sosolenoo; @alyssalauren; @fhauvilles; @wayhavenots; @gingerbreton; @takemyopenheart; @pearlsandsteel; one-off: @honourlight; @tpcignits

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felassan · 3 years

Text

Dragon Age Library Edition Volume 1 annotations & additional pages/art compilation

Dragon Age Library Edition Volume 1 is a hardcover collection of some pre-existing Dragon Age comics that was released in 2014. It comprises of all issues of The Silent Grove, Those Who Speak and Until We Sleep. In places, it includes additional annotations/commentaries by the illustrators and authors, as well as a few additional pages with additional art. iirc these additional annotations and pages/art aren’t featured or available anywhere else (in the franchise I mean; other people have probably put them online at some point I’m sure).

From what I can see at least, Library Edition Volume 1 is no longer in print, and as such listings for it on resale sites etc are.. price-inflated & prohibitively expensive (~£100+, which I’m sure we can all agree is just not reasonable or accessible to most people). Due to this, I’ve compiled the additional annotations and pages here in this post. Thank you and credit to @artevalentinapaz, who kindly shared the material with me. This post has been made with their permission. The rest of this post is under a cut due to length.

These commentaries are in the context of The Silent Grove, Those Who Speak and Until We Sleep. If you notice any errors or annotations missing, or need anything clarified, just let me know. I think the annotations are in chronological order. In places I elaborated in square brackets to help explain which part of the comics an annotation is referring to. A note before you proceed further: some of the topics referenced in the annotations/additional pages are heavy or uncomfortable. The quotes here are word-for-word transcriptions of dev/creator commentaries, not my personal opinions or phrasings.

(Also, I do recommend always supporting comic creators by purchasing their comics legitimately. I own each issue of these comics having bought other editions of them all legitimately. The reason I put this post together is because this specific Library Edition volume has been discontinued and the consequently-inflated cost is so high, rendering the additional material inaccessible to most.)

-----

The Silent Grove annotations

Illustrator Chad Hardin: “I used to be an environmental artist for video games, so I built a 3-D model of Antiva City using the program Silo. Many of the buildings are simple cubes, but a few are more detailed. Overall, I spent the better part of a day building it, but I used it again and again throughout The Silent Grove to maintain continuity in the backgrounds.”

Script Writer Alexander Freed: “Even working with David Gaider, it took me several drafts to find Alistair’s voice. His narrative had to convey his humor and self-doubt from Dragon Age: Origins while suggesting a newfound weariness earned during his years on the throne. For readers familiar with the character, he needed to seem like a changed Alistair - but Alistair nonetheless.”

Chad Hardin: “If you read a lot of comics, you might wonder why the majority of the heroes wear skin-tight suits. Well, I can tell you: they are easy and quick to draw. In video games, you build the model once and then animate it, so details don’t slow you down. In comics, everything has to be rendered by hand. Varric and Alistair’s outfits were quite detailed. It took me a long time to get used to them, and even longer to memorize the designs until drawing them was second nature - Varric’s knee armor in particular! Oy vey!”

David Gaider: “One of my favorite scenes in the entire series [when Varric and Isabela are disarming traps and picking locks together while Alistair looks on]. Isabela and Varric, doing what rogues do. I had a suggestion for how to put it together, but Alex managed to make it fit and did a great job with it.”

Chad Hardin: “I never used to keep any of the artwork I created for comics. I would just hand the pages over to my agent to sell. This page [when Alistair, Varric and Isabela are in a tavern together, with hookah in the foreground] I kept for myself. I love the hookah-smoking elves in the second panel and Isabela’s face in the last panel. I rendered the first four chapters of The Silent Grove in grayscale using ink washes, gouache and Copie markers.”

David Gaider: “For a little while, Varric [in these comic stories] was supposed to be Zevran from Dragon Age: Origins, which would have made sense, Zevran being Antivan and all. I know that some fans would have loved to see him, but the dynamics of the group just didn’t work as well. Then a planned cameo later had to be cut for space. Ah well, Zev, another time.”

Alexander Freed: “Isabela at her most dangerous [climbing up the side of the cliff]. This scene - featuring a scantily clad, dripping-wet woman who tends to flaunt her sexuality - could easily have come across as exploitative, but Chad did a lovely drop portraying Isabela as purely focused and deadly.”

Chad Hardin: “Isabela rising out of the water and scaling the cliff with the knife in her mouth is one of my favorite parts of The Silent Grove. It is one of those moments where the writing really inspired the art. Hats off to Alex and David. This is another page I kept for myself.”

Colorist Michael Atiyeh: “This is one of my favorite Dragon Age pages. Chad is such an amazing artist; I feel very fortunate to have had the opportunity to work with him.”

Chad Hardin: “I love that this page [when a guard spots Varric and shouts ‘Intruder!’] made it in uncensored. So many times in comics, I draw something and some stuffy lawyers come out of the woodwork and tell me to tone it down. Dark Horse and BioWare always let me have fun, and this turned out to be one of my favorite pages with Varric and Bianca. Any guesses to which word he is mouthing in the second panel?”

Alexander Freed: “Note the simple decency of Alistair as he gives his cloak, without comment, to Isabela. For all his flaws, he’s genuinely kind at heart - a rare enough trait in Isabela’s world that I think it’s much of what she values in him.”

Chad Hardin: “I love the opening panel to this chapter [the opening panels to Chapter 3, when the team are on a ship at sea]. It’s the image I use on the homepage of my website. This page was a gift to my cousin Wendy, who loves pirates. Seascapes with sailing ships might be clichéd in fine art, but for me it was a first.”

David Gaider: “I wanted to have this story center on the group travelling to a Witch of the Wilds other than Flemeth, and originally I had set it somewhere else - until I remembered a Codex entry from Dragon: Age Origins that offhandedly mentioned a witch in the Tellari Swamps. Brilliant! It’d look like I planned it all along. I didn’t.”

Michael Atiyeh: “I love opportunities where I can show a change in the time of day as you move from panel to panel [when the ship heads towards and the team arrive in the Tellari Swamps]. I feel the palette of each panel is very distinct and beautiful.”

Alexander Freed: “Why did Alistair choose two people he barely knows to be his companions on this quest? We never make this explicit, but of course Varric is on the right track. Alistair wants to surround himself with people who don’t know him and won’t judge him, yet it’s Alistair’s idealism that Isabela and Varric work to preserve.”

Chad Hardin: “Another page where the writing inspired the art [when the group suddenly encounter a dragon]. I love the dragon bursting onto the scene and Isabela’s stare. Some writers will try to cram six or seven panels on a page like this and the pacing just doesn’t allow the artist to give each moment the right punch. Can you imagine if the first panel was crammed into a single square inch?”

Chad Hardin: “Yavana was one of the only characters that we did no preliminary sketches for. I don’t know how that happened, but thankfully it worked out.”

David Gaider: “I love how Yavana looks like a cross between Flemeth and Morrigan. Flemmigan? She’s totally Chad’s design, and it’s great. Typical for these witches, she never says things straight. In my mind, this Alistair is the one who did the Dark Ritual in Dragon Age: Origins - and I was half-tempted to have him lose his cool in this first scene [opening panels of Chapter 4] with her. Too early, though.”

Alexander Freed: “Through this whole sequence [the page when Varric aims Bianca at Yavana], Yavana is dropping cryptic hints and Alistair is refusing to play along. He’s met Flemeth and Morrigan - he knows Yavana won’t give him a straight answer, and he won’t give her the satisfaction of asking needlessly.”

Michael Atiyeh: “Sometimes it’s the little things on a page that spark my interest. Here [when the team navigate vines and mud to get to the temple], the sunset panel came out great and the mud looks really thick and gooey. It’s fun to focus on these details and make them stand out.”

Chad Hardin: “I hated drawing this scene [when Isabela gets kicked] where Isabela gets the boot to the face. Call me old fashioned, but I was raised to believe that only a coward would ever hit a woman (even a battle-hardened pirate adventurer). I draw at home, and my girls often watch me work in my studio. This was a page I didn’t want them watching me draw. I do like, though, that Isabela gets up, yanks the arrow out, and then soldiers on (and later extracts brutal revenge).”

Michael Atiyeh: “Poor Isabela. It seems I gave her more bruises and black eyes than any of the other characters. [when Isabela is yanking the arrow out]”

Chad Hardin: “It’s always interesting to go back and look at artwork because it reminds me of what was going on in my life at the time. I inked this page [opening panels of Chapter 5] at a ‘draw night’ session at an anime convention in St. George, Utah. I was one of the special guests, but I missed the first day because I was at my grandfather’s funeral in Las Vegas, Nevada. Seeing this page brought back those memories.”

David Gaider: “‘Bianca says hello.’ [quoting the panels being referenced] I adore Varric. I was tempted to have him narrate the entire series [in reference to these three comics], but then again I liked the idea of having each series center on one of the trio’s viewpoints. This book belongs to Alistair, but that doesn’t stop Varric from getting all the best lines.”

Alexander Freed: “Claudio, of course, is not a terribly sympathetic figure. But I wanted to emphasize that he takes this fight as personally as Isabela - he sincerely loved Luis and blames Isabela for the man’s death. I think it’s important to give every character, even the most loathsome, some dignity. [when Isabela and Claudio are fighting]”

Chad Hardin: “Payback! Here is where Isabela extracts her revenge on Claudio [when Isabela stabs Claudio]. I never enjoyed killing off a character so much. I particularly enjoyed putting the look of shock in his eyes. He had it coming. There is something satisfying about killing a ‘made man’.”

Chad Hardin: “Every now and then when drawing comics, I wish I could animate some panels and watch them as a cartoon. It would be great to see this sequence [when Yavana catches Claudio’s soul] in full motion as Yavana snatches Claudio’s soul, makes it reenter his corpse and then extracts information from him until he bursts into flame. It was a very Hellboy-ish moment. I enjoyed the movie that played in my mind while drawing this scene. Hope everyone liked the result.”

Chad Hardin: “As I mentioned on page 17, I rendered the first four chapters in grayscale, which made the black-and-white art look great, but had a neutralizing effect when it came to colors. By the time I drew chapter 4, I had seen the effect it was having and decided to stop using the grayscale so the colors would pop. When I saw this page [when Alistair says to Yavana ‘And we helped you find it’] in print, it confirmed to me that I made the right decision. I honestly feel this art was the best of The Silent Grove.”

Chad Hardin: “I practically painted these pages [when Yavana says ‘It is permitted. Tonight and only tonight’] in thumbnails hoping it would help me choose how to render them in ink. It is so hard trying to figure out how to get a full range of value out of just black and white. There are some artists and inkers that make this look easy. Mark Schultz comes to mind. Michael saved my bacon. Colorists really do so much work when it comes to rendering; this page came out awesome because of him.”

David Gaider: “Here we reveal the existence of Great Dragons (as opposed to High Dragons), and also that Yavana was the source of the return of dragons to Thedas after their departure for so many centuries. But why? There’s the rub, and not even Alistair can trust that she’s telling him the truth.”

David Gaider: “Here’s the controversial scene [Alistair killing Yavana]. I think some fans don’t like that Alistair did this, and have said they consider it out of character. I don’t. From his perspective, Flemeth and her daughters have been toying with the world for reasons that can’t be trusted. They dragged Maric away from his family, from him. One might think his judgement foolish, but considering what Alistair was capable of deciding even back in Dragon Age: Origins, it’s certainly not out of character.”

Chad Hardin: “[same scene as above] This was a controversial page, and there were a lot of people who thought it was out of character for Alistair to kill Yavana (I didn’t see it coming - I mean, you just don’t kill a Witch of the Wild), but here is the thing: this page is Alistair acting as a king. Yavana has been manipulating him, trying to play him like a pawn, and he just can’t allow that. There’s too much at stake, for himself and for his subjects.”

Alexander Freed: “The end? An end, at least [the trio walking off into the distance]. The series needed a note of closure while leading into Those Who Speak (which wouldn’t arrive until many months later). David tweaked the ending in the outline several times, and I did my best to balance resolving Alistair’s emotional journey without resolving the quest. It’s not as clean as I’d have liked, but fortunately, now it’s all in one volume...”

Those Who Speak annotations

Alexander Freed: “Capturing Isabela’s narrative voice was much easier for me than capturing Alistair’s - partly because I’d already written The Silent Grove, and partly because of my own writing proclivities. Rereading now, I wonder if I laid on the (mild) profanity a bit too thick. I’ll leave you to judge.”

David Gaider: “I like the additional detail Alex and Chad put in, letting us see more of Qarinus and more of Isabela’s crew. Alex wanted to give her crew more of a presence, and let her first mate have some face time, so they weren’t just parts of the scenery. Good call on his part.”

David Gaider: “I’m really fond of the formal getups Chad made for the party. Isabela’s actually comes from a concept we didn’t use from the cancelled Dragon Age 2 expansion, if I remember right. And Maevaris came from me asking for ‘someone who looks like Mae West’ - with the wonderful outfit all Chad’s doing.

Chad Hardin: “Maevaris. I love Mae. When David and Dragon Age art director Matthew Goldman spoke to me about designing Mae, they wanted her to be fully female with the exception of her biology. They told me to think ‘Mae West’. Well, when I think of Mae West, I think of her... womanly shape. So, drawing Maevaris was always walking a fine line between portraying Mae’s identity and her biology. The process endeared her to me.”

Michael Atiyeh: “Just like in The Silent Grove, we are introduced to another gentleman from Isabela’s past [when the team meet Lord Devon and Isabela threatens him]. As was the case with Claudio, he will meet his fate at her hands.”

Chad Hardin: “When I was drawing Titus, my kids asked me why I was drawing ‘angry Jesus’ or ‘evil Jesus’. I can’t remember which term they used exactly, but it made me chuckle. I was going for a mix of Rapustin and Joe Stalin, but ‘evil Jesus’ would do.”

David Gaider: “I’m not sure it’s apparent here [when Alistair says ‘I’d really rather not’], but Alistair was supposed to be using one of his Templar powers on Titus (that’s why Titus recognizes what he is on the next page) and disrupting his magic.”

Alexander Freed: “Isabela is witty and charming enough that it can be easy to forget that she’s not, in fact, a nice person. Even after finishing the outline, David was concerned about making her too unsympathetic - but I loved his approach in this series. The dark deeds Isabela commits - this murder included [Isabela killing Lord Devon] - are what make her guilt tangible and no easy matter to overcome.”

Alexander Freed: “I thought the notions of Isabela’s pride in her captaincy and dedication to her crew were some of the most interesting aspects of her character in David’s story. In scenes here [when Isabela is on her ship saying ‘Keep them focused and keep them sober’] and elsewhere, I did my best to emphasize their place at the core of Isabela’s world.”

Chad Hardin: “Most of the time I draw from imagination, but because of the complexity of this page [Qunari trying to board Isabela’s ship] I decided it would work better if I had photo reference. On this page are my nephews Jared (Varric) and Adam, my niece Melissa, my kids Erica, Tasey Michaela (Isabela) and Chad (Alistair), my friend’s daughter Amy, my wife Joy, and the neighborhood kids as Isabela’s pirate crew. (The crew member mooning the Qunari is out of my ol’ noodle.) I paid their modelling fee in pizza and root beer. Also, I had originally drawn cannons on Isabela’s ship, so if there are parts of it that look slightly wonky, chances are there was a cannon there.”

David Gaider: “Ever since the BioWare artists finally did a concept for female Qunari, I’ve been itching to include one in the game. It’s always slipped through my fingers, so I was going to be damned if I’d have a Qunari plot in a comic - without the same technical limitations - and not have one present.

Chad Hardin: “I had no idea this was the first time anyone outside of BioWare had seen a female Qunari.”

Michael Atiyeh: “I really like the lighting in this sequence [Isabela in her cell thinking ‘I haven’t eaten in days’], especially the strong white light and the characters in shadow.”

David Gaider: “The entire sequence of Rasaan interrogating Isabela was something I plotted out in detail when this series began. Here they discuss names - something treated in a manner peculiar to the Qunari, considering how much importance they apply to what things are called (and not called), because it forms the core of their identity. Isabela brushes it off, but as we find out later it’s also at the core of her identity. I liked that parallel.”

Alexander Freed: “To balance out the relatively static talking pages elsewhere in the issue, I hoped to make the interrogation and flashback sequences beautiful and full of information. I proposed an approach to Chad, and he wisely reshaped it into what you see here [the page with the scene where Isabela says ‘I’ve made a lot of stupid mistakes’]. Anything that succeeds on these pages should be credited to him; anything that fails is my fault.”

Chad Hardin: “Probably the most challenging spread I have ever done. My friend Stacie Pitt was the model for Isabela on this page, and my wife Joy was Rasaan. I saved these pages [around the scene when Rasaan says ‘Mistakes can be corrected’] for myself.”

David Gaider: “Sten from Dragon Age: Origins becoming the new Arishok of the Qunari was something we'd planned even during Dragon Age 2. This was a great opportunity to show that, and also to show that Sten didn’t acquire horns even despite the makeover the Qunari received in DA2. Hornless Qunari are considered special, and Sten is no exception.”

Michael Atiyeh: “I think that David, Alex and Chad handled Isabela’s flashback [to when she was sold by her mother] in an interesting way, and it created a nice flow to the story.”

David Gaider: “This was a controversial scene [what happened to the slaves Isabela was transporting], the end result of a lot of discussions between me and Isabela’s original writer on the team, and it went through a lot of revisions over that time. It needed to fit with the story Isabela told the player in DA2, but fill in the blanks of what she didn’t tell. We didn’t want Isabela to be someone who became who she is because she was ‘broken’ but instead as a result of her own actions - yet also not be completely beyond redemption.”

Chad Hardin: “These were hard pages [as above] to draw. It was difficult knowing that events such as this are part of human history, such as the Zong massacre in 1781, where the British courts ordered the insurers to reimburse the crew of the Zong for financial losses caused by throwing slaves overboard when faced with a lack of water. Horrifying beyond words.”

Michael Atiyeh: “Here, Isabela visits here crew, and I wanted to play up that she was in the light and they were in a dark cell. The light streaming through the bars gave me the opportunity to highlight Brand, who also had dialogue in the scene.”

Alexander Freed: “I struggled to find a way for Varric to contribute to victory without distracting from Alistair and Sten’s big fight. I’m happy with the solution: a brazen lie seemed appropriate to the character without taking away from the main show.”

David Gaider: “I believe my original plan had Isabela’s and Alistair’s fight scenes happening separately, but I like how Alex intertwined them in the script and I especially like how this ends up highlighting the differences between their characters when their fights are resolved. Isabela is defiant, revealing her name not because Rasaan demands it but because it’s her choice. In both cases, mercy is strength.”

Michael Atiyeh: “The brush I created for the clouds really gave them a nice watercolor effect here [on the deck of the ship, Sten calling Alistair ‘kadan’]. That brush has become a staple in my toolbox.”

Alexander Freed: “With the strong theme of names running through these issues, I liked the notion that Isabela had outgrown being, well, ‘Isabela’. When her name comes up in Until We Sleep, it’s largely played with ambiguity.”

Until We Sleep annotations

Alexander Freed: “The story of ‘Arthur’ is one of my favorite minor sequences [Varric infiltrating and fighting his way into the fortress]. It tells us something about Varric and it delivers plot information - and it’s also a reminder that our heroes kill an awful lot of people during these series and cope with it in their own ways. In general, writing Varric let me skirt the edge of metacommentary, which I greatly enjoyed.”

David Gaider: “Varric, as always, is my ‘voice of the narrator’. Here he’s expressing some of my own amusement at Alistair’s growing list of peculiarities [‘Your majesty is quite the special snowflake’]. To think, back at the beginning of Dragon Age: Origins he was just the player’s goofy sidekick who grew up in a barn.”

Michael Atiyeh: “By the third series, Until We Sleep, I really started to have a complete feel for what I wanted the final art to look like. As an artist, it’s important to continue to evolve and grow. The close-up of Sten’s face [same page as above] is a perfect example of how I wanted the rendering on the characters to look.”

Alexander Freed: “David’s outline called for a short, somber reveal of the Calenhad story by Sten. Fueled by my desire to avoid ‘talking heads’ sequences, I scripted it as a full-on storytelling flashback. David made sure the history worked (at least from the Qunari point of view), and Chad did a beautiful job handling it in a mere two pages.”

David Gaider: “Blood is important in Dragon Age, as a theme. Here we tie in the dragon blood that was mentioned all the way back in The Silent Grove and explain what it means at last. I was a bit hesitant to tarnish the legend of Calenhad the Great in this way, but I comfort myself with the knowledge this tale is but a viewpoint and not necessarily the entire truth.”

Michael Atiyeh: “Titus melting the attacker is a great example of classic comicbook storytelling and exactly what made me fall in love with the medium.”

David Gaider: “I was really happy with how Chad handled the reveal of Mae as transgender [the scene with Mae in the cell]. My worry was that Varric finding her disrobed might be potentially titillating, but I think he handled it nicely. I only wish there was more time to have Mae properly respond to being exposed in this manner, even to a friend.”

Chad Hardin: “I originally drew Mae as female [same scene as above], then changed her anatomy, so the psychological violation and humiliation she felt would be the focus. Hope that came across.”

Chad Hardin: “When in doubt, have Bianca shoot it [Varric shooting the artifact].”

David Gaider: “This scene [Varric and Bianca the dwarf] with Varric was one I wanted to do for a very long time. We’ve hinted that Varric’s crossbow was named after a real person, someone he never wants to talk about. Now I finally had the chance to show why.”

Chad Hardin: “Of all my Dragon Age pages, this scene was hands down my favorite, because Varric is my favorite. It was awesome to get to draw Bianca in her dwarven form. These scenes give you a glimpse of the love Varric and Bianca shared. It doesn’t tell you the whole story, but you can assume plenty from what is shown. You get to see Varric mostly naked (you’re welcome), but most of all you witness Varric’s heartbreak. I felt privileged to draw it. I got so obsessed with drawing this page I did an entire watercolor painting based on the last panel [Varric gets up to leave, ‘This isn’t right’ - ? or perhaps the scene where he opens the door to leave].”

Alexander Freed: “Unreliable narrators are always tricky - done wrong, they can just confuse the reader. But I’m fairly happy with Varric’s lies throughout this series, most of which are used to downplay the emotional cost of events rather than whitewash the events themselves.”

Michael Atiyeh: “This palette worked perfectly [Varric standing in front of the doorway/portal in the Fade proper], but I can’t take all the credit because BioWare provided reference for the Fade. I added the hot orange energy for the doorway, which looks great with the sickly green sky.”

David Gaider: “This scene [Isabela’s Fade nightmare] was actually inspired by a fan named Allegra who did a cosplay as a Qunari version of Isabela. I knew I wanted something like this for Isabela’s Fade section of the comic, but it didn’t really solidify until I saw the cosplay.”

Chad Hardin: “Isabela is more affected by her encounter with Rasaan than we were led to believe. A portent of things to come?”

Michael Atiyeh: “I love this shot of Mae in the fourth panel [on the page where Isabela is affected by vines]. I would be remiss if I didn’t mention what a great character she is in the series, and Chad captures her beautifully in this shot.”

Alexander Freed: “I saw this issue as a sort of downbeat victory lap. Over the course of the previous series, our protagonists largely came to terms with the inner demons the Fade confronts them with here. The fact they’ve come so far lets them win this last battle... but they still have scars that will never completely disappear.”

David Gaider: “Maric was in the first two novels I wrote for Dragon Age. Seeing Chad’s rendering of him as a regal, grown-up version of Alistair made me incredibly nostalgic. Some characters you just never let go of.”

Alexander Freed: “I feel Varric’s lines (‘tell yourself the stories you need to tell’ but ‘never live your own lies’) are the natural endpoint of all the exchanges he’s had with Alistair, starting from the end of Chapter 1 of The Silent Grove. And of course it plays off the story of ‘Arthur’, as well.’’

Chad Hardin: “I’m happy with the way Titus came off in these pages [Titus attacking and saying ‘The last magisters of Tevinter were so close’]. He looks threatening and powerful when fighting Alistair, Isabela and Varric, but genuinely confused by his inability to defeat Maric. Bye-bye, evil Jesus.”

Alexander Freed: “I can’t help but feel for Titus. He was unthinkably corrupt, but I see him as genuinely motivated by Tevinter’s glory. (The fact Alistair reads zealous ideology as a lust for power says a lot about both characters.)”

Michael Atiyeh: “I love the seamless transition of color from Titus’ magic to the dragon breath and then back into the orange remnants of his magic in the smoke. This was a really fun panel to color [Titus saying ‘Die by what wrought you’].”

David Gaider: “‘You are not the dreamer here. I am.’ I always have a scene or a line that’s in my head when I begin a tale, and this line of Maric’s was one I wanted all the way back when I started working on The Silent Grove.”

Chad Hardin: “I love this page [Maric and Alistair clasping hands]; Mike’s colors are spot on. We get to see all our heroes in an ideal state for the last time. This is the last Dragon Age page I saved for myself.”

David Gaider: “This scene kills me [Alistair destroying the Magrallen]. I knew it needed to happen; I knew I wanted it to happen even back when I began the story. Alistair lets Maric remain in the Fade rather than dragging him back to a world which has moved on. Alistair’s ready to move on, but forcing him to give up that hope... it makes me feel like a bad person.”

Chad Hardin: “Heartbreak for Alistair as he realizes that once again, as a king, he must kill: this time, his own father (granted, the Magrallen did most of the work). I really like how Maric crumbles away in the end. This was my last page, and the emotions on the page and in my studio were very final. Altogether, this was a year of my life in the making. On my last page, I wrote a thank you to everyone involved, the crew at Dark Horse and the crew at BioWare. I’d like to take this opportunity to thank them again. It was a thrill. Finally, a huge thank-you to the Dragon Age fan community, whose support was overwhelmingly awesome.”

Michael Atiyeh: “As the story came to an end, I knew I was going to miss these characters. Writing these annotations reinforces the fact that I hope to work with this great creative team again one day. Many thanks to Dark Horse and BioWare for the opportunity to work on Dragon Age.”

Alexander Freed: “The tension between the art and the narration on this page [the one with Alistair sitting on his throne while nobles argue] is something you can only pull off in comics. Neither tells the full, bittersweet story alone. Similarly, these issues wouldn’t have been possible without everyone on the team; thanks to David, Chad, Michael, and everyone I lack space to list!”

Additional pages / art

Library Edition Volume 1 also came with some additional pages, with additional art and commentary. These are as follows (I’m including them for the sake of completion, click the links to see):

1. Alistair and dragon concepts

2. Rasaan and Maevaris concepts

3. Sten, Titus and Yavana concepts

4. A series of cover pages 1

5. A series of cover pages 2

In case anyone has trouble reading the notes that accompany these images, I’ve transcribed them below:

1. Dragon Age Sketch Book

Alistair Concept

Dragon Age / Dark Horse

Chad Hardin: “The headshot of Alistair is from a finished sketch with a rejected armor design. In order to save time, the redrawing was completed on the computer, where tweaks and changes are quick and easy, if somewhat less glorious.”

[Dragon] Head #1 / Head #2

Chad Hardin: “Everyone liked this dragon sketch so much that Dark Horse printed it for signings at conventions. You can see I did multiple proposals for the dragon’s head. It was more effective than drawing the body over and over.”

2. [arrow pointing to Mae’s sleeve] concealed [I think that’s what it says anyway] daggers / shurikens?

Chad Hardin: “When designing Rasaan and Maevaris, I wasn’t exactly sure how their roles would play out in the series. Maevaris’ outfit was inspired by brothel madams of the Wild West. I thought it would be cool to have some weapons concealed in the formal wear. These never came into play in the series, but they were there in my mind.”

3. Chad Hardin: “Although we only see Titus in his battle garb in one issue, I really liked the design of his armor. The sketch of Yavana was done on the fly and served as both a rough preliminary sketch and as a panel layout. You have to work hard and smart in comics to keep up with the deadlines.”

4. Cover Artist Anthony Palumbo: “This was my first assignment for Dark Horse, and I was both excited and nervous. I drew pencil sketches of the main characters, scanned them and played with different arrangements, poses and color schemes in Photoshop.”

5. Anthony Palumbo: “Fellow illustrator Winona Nelson helped me by sitting for photo reference. I created the mock-jewelry with gold-painted Sculpey. That’s a quick photo of my own gaping maw, to help with the image of Varric.”

#dragon age #bioware #video games #artevalentinapaz #alistair theirin #fav warden #morrigan #queen of my heart #long post #longpost

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mudhorn-djarin19 · 3 years

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Mission: I Do - Chp. 3 (Agent Whiskey x f!reader)

Summary: A new mission has come up and you are sent off on it with Agent Whiskey as your partner. However, you have to go undercover as his fiancee. What will this mission mean for you and your harboring crush on him? This chapter is the set up to the mission. This chapter is fairly long. Makes up for the shorter and kind of lacking content in the last chapter. Hope ya enjoy ;) Rating: Explicit Warnings: mutual pining, language, hangover mention, poisioning, fighting violence, bomb mention, protected sex, and fingering (let me know if I missed any) AO3 Link | Masterlist | Join my taglist via here! Chp 1 | Chp 2 | More chapters to come!

You awake the next morning to hear Jack talking. You roll over, cracking an eye open and see Jack sitting up on the edge of the bed, glasses on his face. You make out in your hungover state that he is going over the mission with who you assume is Champ.

“Yes sir. I will inform her. She’s asleep still but she’ll understand and be okay. I’ve got her. Thank you.” He says, hanging up the call and placing the glasses back down on the nightstand. He turns around and sees you looking at him through half open eyes.

“That was Champ. I’ll tell you what he said once you are awake more. You look pretty hungover and I figured you’d be so I already ordered us breakfast in. Make sure you take the meds I left on your nightstand too for we have a big day ahead of us.” He says as he rubs a hand gently on your cheek. “You know for working at Statesman I figured you’d be able to hold your liquor better.” He teases, getting an eye roll out of you.

About half an hour passes and breakfast has finally arrived. You two sit at the table eating, your hungover state slowly going away. Thank god for the medicine, good warm food and water Jack provided to you.

“Okay so Champ got the information I sent over to him last night after you passed out. He said we’ve done good so far. Just need to use the poison he has given us to take the rest of them out. He said there shouldn’t be many more. Hopefully some of them will be at the club again tonight. Kind of hard to do at the convention. He did say that the restaurant we are to go to today for dinner has been found to be the local headquarters for the crew. We need to take anyone there out and prevent an explosion from happening since a lot of couples are going there for a special banquet meal today.” He says. “He wanted me to inform you that he knows you are new to being an agent on the field. You’re used to being behind the sense as a tech agent but, he knows you are strong with a gun and knife. So he knows you can fight. I’ll be there right beside you though to help if any trouble arises.”

You nod. You’ve only been an agent for about a year and have yet had to do any actually fighting thankfully but you trained a lot. Having an experienced agent like Jack though by your side helped you feel a lot more calm about the situation.

You two finished up eating breakfast and going over the plan for the day. By the time all of that was over you were feeling a lot better and your hangover had passed. Jack was in the shower while you stayed in the room to get dressed. Since you were just going to be attending the convention and restaurant for the day until later this evening you decided to stick with another casual look. A simple t-shirt, skirt and some boots to match with Jack’s. You were all set and ready to go aside from makeup and hair which you needed the bathroom for. You were about to knock on the bathroom door when it swung open and Jack stood there in front of you. He was shirtless but had a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Uh sorry.” He says scooting aside to let you into the bathroom. “Forgot my clothes out here.”

“I- it’s okay.” You say trying to avert your eyes. “I need the bathroom anyways for my hair and makeup. We can trade.”

God why does he have to look so good shirtless. You saw him that way at night and during missions when requiring medical attention but, seeing him now glistening from the water of his shower and wearing nothing but a towel had your heart doing back flips and your core warming. You quickly rushed into the bathroom to avoid making yourself feel anymore flustered, shutting the door behind you so he can have some privacy.

You two had made it through the convention again but found no sign of anyone new, hoping to find someone at either the restaurant or club this evening.

You made your way into the restaurant which was supposed to be the headquarters of the crew you were to take down. You stayed close to Jack, a bit worried about having to fight for the first time, and not knowing when it may happen. The host seats you at your table and presents you your menus to get started for the banquet. Jack looked over his menu while you listened to the lady talk about wedding planning and looked around the venue for anyone.

You tap Jack’s hand once the host leaves. “Over there.” Nodding your head in the direction of a crewmate going into the kitchen.

He nods, standing and follows your lead. You both sneak into the kitchen, and see 10 crewmates standing around, all have either a knife or gun on them.

“Oh sorry… thought this was the bathroom.” Jack laughs. “Just kidding.”

And on that last statement he pulls his whip out of his belt knocking two out immediately with impact. You draw your gun out shooting down and chucking your knife into another chest. Thank god your guns have silencers on them so no one out in the banquet room can hear the battle going down. You turn to shoot the other two Jack had knocked out with the whip for good measures. Okay 4 down 6 to go. You go to pull your knife from one's body when a crewmate starts to sneak up on you. Jack soon snatches his lasso out, sending the electricity flying through it and cutting the guy in half. You nod to Jack as a thank you, grabbing your knife and sinking it into another crewmate's chest. 6 down 4 to go. Jack in the meantime had already knocked 2 of the 4 left to go out with his whip. You quickly toss your gun to him for him to take them out fully while fighting one who had grabbed onto your back off. The final one comes running towards your front but you quickly take him out by sinking your knife in one final time for the fight. You struggle to get the guy on your back off but he quickly releases you after Jack shoots him down. You look down at all the bodies and sigh. You didn’t do bad for your first time really fighting. Jack took down the majority but you did take down a few and you were proud of your work. Now for the hard part. To find the device and quickly deactivate it. You two look around the kitchen until Jack finally exclaims he found a bag. You rush over and look into it and sure enough, there it is.

“This is too high tech for me. That’s your department.” He nods.

You look over the device and notice a lot of wires, you ask Jack for a knife and he gladly hands you over his pocket knife. You start cutting at wires, pushing some buttons as the time ticks down slowly. You still have a good amount of time left but, any wrong move and it could go off any moment now. After a bit of a fuss with it the timer finally disappears.

“Done!” You say, wiping your forehead and handing Jack his pocket knife back.

“How you techies figure this shit out I will never know.” He chuckles. “Well, objective one done. Champ says there is a chance of another this weekend so we have to keep our eye out. He’ll send us more information as he finds out. But we still need to find and see if we can take out the boss. Chances are we can catch him at the club tonight. If not him at least more of his damn goonies.”

You nod. “I’ll meet you back at the table. Going to clean up before going back out there.”

Jack nods in response and heads back out to the banquet room, acting as if nothing just happened. You return soon after, from fixing your hair and cleaning up any wounds.

You two were sat at a large table with some other couples, you make conversation with some and find out that a few of them surprisingly were crewmates, dropping some of the poison provided you slipped it to them when they weren’t looking and took note of who they said would be at the club tonight aside from them. You eye Jack to make sure he heard so you two can be sure to attend tonight after finishing up the dinner. Once you see the poison take it's work on the crewmates you and Jack inform those who were attendees just like you of the danger and help guide them out to safety.

Once again you are back at the club hoping to catch the boss or anymore of his crewmates. Jack once again finds himself a comfortable spot at a table while you go mingle around the dance floor to see if you can find anyone. You didn’t have as much luck tonight finding anyone like last night but, you glance over at Jack to see he has managed to grab the attention of the two men who are now sitting at the table with him. You give him some time to pick their brains before heading back over. You don’t want to disturb them and scare them off before he can get any information, assuming they are crewmates. Once you see it’s clear and he is left alone again you make your way back over to him. But as you are making your way back over you are nearly stopped in your tracks with anger.

Jack sits at the table you left him at, back turned towards you and you see a random girl walk over to him and plop herself right down onto his lap. You stay a far enough distance to watch and listen but close enough to step in soon if need be.

“Hey cowboy.” The girl winks at Jack as she wraps her arms around his neck, removing his hat to place it on her own head. “You look pretty lonely here. Need some company?” She asks and she wiggles in his lap.

You figure by now as much of a flirt Jack is he’s giving into her, not gonna let her go and will probably find some way to have some fun with her. Ruining a big part of the damn cover for the mission. But next thing you know Jack is unhooking her arms from around his neck, grabbing her by the waist to lift her off up him and set her down on the table in front of him.

“Don’t think my fiancee would much appreciate that now girl.” He says sternly. “Now go on. Get.”

“Pfft. What fiancee? I see no one around.” She snaps back irritatedly.

You then approach and set the drink you had ordered next to her, plopping your ass right down on Jack’s lap sideways, grinding down a little bit to where he audibly groans for not only you to hear but the girl as well.

“This fiancee.” You say, grabbing his hat back off her head, placing it on your own and flashing the fake ring at her. You then plant a kiss on Jack’s jawline, working your way over to his lips, capturing his between yours. You two kiss each other for a few seconds before you turn your head back to the girl still sitting there. “You heard him. Go on. Get.” You say repeating Jack’s words.

She huffs and leaves in irritation. You smirk at your work, damn proud you not only scared some random chick off from touching your “man” but also getting a little bit of a rile out of Jack when you sat on his lap. You turn back to Jack’s face who also wears a smirk.

“Well well… Look at you takin’ charge.” He chuckles, taking his hat back from your head.

You smile as a blush crosses over your face, his hand cupping your cheek and bringing your lips back to his once again. You two continue to kiss for a few minutes when Jack chuckles again. You pull away from the kiss to see he has his phone out, camera open and facing you both.

“Jack!” You blush

“What? I promise I was trying to get the crewmates I had spoken to in the shot there in the back.” He says zooming in, them obviously not being in the frame much at all due to you two taking up most of the photo. “Think we should send this one off to Champ?” He winks.

You blush and roll your eyes at his comment.

“Say… why don’t we get out of here?” He nudges you.

“But what about…?” You start to question.

“I got any information I need from the guys. Seems they are the only ones here tonight and they’ve been dropped the poison like the last few. Their boss isn't here. We’ll have to catch him at the event or his business. We don’t need to be here anymore tonight.” He states.

The walk from the club back to the hotel was short but quiet. You two didn’t say much but he noticed you shiver from the slight chill the night gave you so he had draped his jacket over your shoulders and kept his pace in line with yours, keeping a hand on the small of your back.

You arrive back to your room shortly after and as soon as you are in and shut the door, Jack grabs your torso and pulls your back against him.

“That was some good actin’ you put on back there with that little bit of jealousy and showin’ off to scare that girl. And why’d you have to go and get a rile out of me? Hm?” He whispers into your ear.

“I…um . Acting yea...” You say nervously.

Jack raises an eyebrow even though you can’t see it.

“Are you tellin’ me that wasn’t actin’ back there?” He asks

You’re too scared to speak so you just shake your head responding that no it wasn’t acting. Jack moves his hands to your hips, gripping you a bit tighter. He brushes his nose against your ear, mustache tickling your neck.

“So you mean to tell me you were actually jealous and trying to get a bit of a rile out me darlin’? He whispers into your ear.

You gulp and nod, still staying silent from nerves. You hear Jack chuckle softly before placing a kiss to your neck.

“So when were you going to tell me this? Or were you just going to keep it hidden forever?” He asks.

“Hidden…” You finally manage to say.

“Now, that’s no fun. Why would you do that?”

“I… I don’t know. I guess… I’m scared. You’re such a big shot at work. Figured you’d never be into someone as new and low level or not as much of a big shot…” You say.

Jack laughs and it takes you by surprise. He turns you around to face him. “Darlin’ you make me laugh. I’ve had my sights set on you since day one. I’ve never seen such a damn beauty until you walked through the doors at HQ on your first day. Seeing you filled the empty hole in my heart.”

You lightly smile at him and then ask. “So if you like me back why didn’t you also say something?”

“Well, same as you. Scared I guess. When you joined 2 years ago I didn’t know if you had someone. And then at the office you always seem to be annoyed by me so I had the impression you hated my guts.” He replies.

“I don’t hate you. That was just putting up a hard front to hide my true feelings. Which is that I really like you. And maybe a bit of jealousy irritation...” You blush as you say.

Jack pushes your hair behind your ear and cups your check. “Well then, I guess since we both feel the same you won’t mind if I do this.”

As he says that he crashes his lips onto yours, running his tongue along your bottom lip and dipping it into your mouth when you slightly open it. Your tongue finds his bottom lip, running over the edge before dipping it into his mouth in return. Your hands slide up into his hair, grabbing his hat and tossing it onto the nearby chair. You comb your fingers through his hair, getting a soft groan from him into your mouth. He cups the back of your neck with one hand, the other laying against the small of your back, pushing you further into him. Jack steps towards you causing you two to walk backwards until the back of your knees are hitting the edge of the bed. You topple backwards onto the bed, Jack following with but careful not to crush you. His one hand slides down from your hip to your thigh, bringing your leg to wrap around his waist. Your hands slide down from his neck to his chest, working at the buttons on his shirt when he suddenly pulls away a bit.

“Wait, darlin’ I don’t want to do anything too far unless you really want to. I mean… I’d love to. However, I don’t want to push you.” He says

“Oh shut up Jack.” You smile as you bring his lips back to yours, letting him take the hint that you want this.

He smiles back into the kiss, his hands find the zipper of your dress and starts to undo it, while you finish undoing the buttons on his shirt. You push the shirt back from his shoulders, he releases you long enough to shimmy it the rest of the way off his arms before coming back to you, pulling the straps of your dress off your upper body. His hand snakes up and squeezes one of your breasts.

“Mhm, no bra?” He sighs into your mouth.

“Can’t with this dress. It’d show because the thin straps and low cut back.” You sigh back.

“I like it.” He says as he rubs his thumb over your nipple, sending a shiver down your spine.

You lift your hips as he shimmies the rest of it off of you, discarding it at your feet. Thank god you wore slip on heels, making them easy to kick off. Jack stands and works at removing his belt, pants and boots while you crawl further back onto the bed. He crawls back onto the bed, left now in nothing but his underwear much like you and crawls over top of you. Kissing up your torso, neck and eventually lips. His one hand holds your hip while the other finds your breasts again. You snake your hand down between your bodies and cup him, feeling his rather large erection against your palm. He groans at your touch and grinds down into your hand.

“Don’t tease me darlin’” He speaks into your ear.

You smirk and grab him a bit more firm this time, getting him to grind into your hand again.

“So we’re gonna play this game huh?” He chuckles.

He pulls away from you, sits straddling your knees before he rubs a finger ever so gently at your heat, causing you to squirm.

“Damn, wet for me already?” He asks.

You have no words to say but buck you hips up at him, asking for his touch once more. He hooks his fingers into your panties and slowly works at pulling them down, leaving you fully bare before him. He whistles in response.

“Darlin’, I knew you were gorgeous before but… damn.” He says.

He leans down and presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh as he slowly sneaks a finger into your folds. You buck your hips in reply, craving more of him inside you.

“Jack, please.” You whine.

He doesn’t answer but instead sinks another finger into your folds. Filling you up even more now. He works his fingers in and out of you slowly, he brings his thumb in and starts rubbing at your clit, getting all your senses working.

“Oh god… Jack stop. If you keep going for much longer I might…” You cut yourself off with a moan

“Precisely darlin’. Just let go, it’s okay.” He smirks, picking up his pace.

He adds a third finger and continues at the faster pace for a while until you start to twitch under him. He slows as he feels you tighten and come undone around his fingers, coaxing you down from your high. He pulls his fingers out from you and licks your juices off of them.

“Sweet as a damn peach.” He says.

“Jack please.” You say, pulling at the waist line of his boxers, trying to bring him closer to you. “I want you.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” He asks, leaning down to kiss you.

“Yes. I’ve never been more sure in my life. Now please stop asking.” You chuckle into the kiss.

He leans back up and slides his boxers off, his erection springing forth. You figured he was packing but damn, you never knew he’d be packing this much. He moves and lays down next to you, leaving you looking at him confused. He then pats his thighs telling you to come and straddle him. You do as you are told. Sitting on his thighs, your folds just mere inches from his erection, aching for contact.

“Ah shit, darlin’ do me a favor and hand me my wallet? In the back pocket of my jeans.” He says.

You crawl off his lap, hopping off of the bed and grab his jeans, pulling out his wallet and returning to your spot with it in hand. He opens it and pulls out a square shiny wrapped package. He brings it up to his mouth and rips it open with his teeth, chucking the packaging and wallet to the floor. You scoot back a bit to give him some room and he pulls the condom down his length.

“Alright.” He states.

You sit back up on his thighs and smirk, running your hands up his torso.

“Are you ready?” He asks, grabbing your hips.

You nod and slide forward, straddling over him. He lines himself up with you and slowly helps you lower yourself down onto him. He takes his time pushing into you, allowing you to adjust to his length and girth. Both of you filling the room with your groans and sighs. Once he bottoms out inside of you, you two sit there for a moment, taking in one another and adjusting to the sensations. After a few moments he grabs your hips and helps by lifting you up from himself, but not fully before you are pulling yourself back down onto his length. With every thrust back down onto him it sends a wave of sensations through you as he hits that spot deep inside of you. You start at a slow pace, slowly working up to a faster pace. You feel another high rising inside of you.

“Fuck… Jack… I'm going to…” You groan through each thrust.

He glides a finger down between you two and works at your clit, rubbing fast circles. His other free hand moving to squeeze at your breasts.

“Go on darlin’, come undone around me.” He says, continuing his pace.

You start to twitch and soon you're body tenses as you come undone for Jacks twice in one night. Letting your juices soak him. As you come down from your high Jack slows his pace and then groans as he senses he is close to his high as well.

“Shit.” He curses. “I’m close…darlin’”

You continue to ride him for a bit when you feel his muscles tense up. He holds you still on him as he comes undone, groaning with every strain that releases. His grip on you loosens as he comes down from his high, you stretch your arms and hands out across his chest, leaning up to give him a kiss. He rolls you both over onto your sides, pulling out of you. You whine at the loss of contact.

“I’ll be right back, hold tight.” He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead before jumping up to go to the bathroom to throw away the now used condom and grab a washcloth.

He returns after a minute with the washcloth which is warm, pulling your thighs apart as he cleans any leftover mess up, same for himself. He chucks the washcloth to the floor and crawls back in bed beside you, laying on his back. You crawl over next to him, laying your head on his chest and entangling your legs with his.

“That was… really nice.” He says, stroking your hair.

“Mhmm.” You smile as you trace a finger on his chest.

Jack chuckles and kisses your head. You two lay in silence for a bit, enjoying the comfort of being close to one another.

“Jack?” You ask, looking up at him a bit. “What does this mean for us?”

“What do you mean?” He says, rubbing your shoulder.

“Well… I mean what are we? What are we going to do? We confessed to each other we’ve got feelings for each other and now we’ve screwed…” You say.

Jack chuckles and pulls you closer to him in a slight squeezing hug.

“Are we…? I mean… I don’t want to assume or if you don’t want to…” You say worriedly

Jack chuckles again and pulls your lips up to his, then speaks against your lips. “Well, I’d say we both know the answer to what you’re asking now. Hm?” He presses a kiss to your lips. “Yes. We are.”

You smile and kiss him back, snuggling into his chest farther. You two stay cuddled together enjoying the silence and each other's presence when Jack’s phone buzzes with a text message. He groans and reaches over to grab it, seeing it’s Ginger who wants to have a quick meeting.

“Shit. Ginger’s wanting to meet… must want to go over today’s report.” He says, grabbing his glasses and yours.

“Shit.” You respond, noticing how you are both still naked and cozied up to one another. “Uhh… hold on lemme just…” You say as you adjust your position a bit so the covers are covering you up to your chin, no skin showing and lay your head on Jack’s shoulder instead now.

Jack finger combs his hair a bit to make sure it’s not out of place, same for yours before you both slide your glasses on and press the button to activate the hologram call.

“Good evening…?” Ginger says slowly and questionably.

“Hey Ging, what’s up?” You respond quickly.

“Uh… well I was calling to go over your reports from today.” She says, pushing her confusion back. She’d question you later you know.

“We found more of the crewmates, took down a large chunk of em tonight at the restaurant. That’s definitely their local headquarters but I don’t think it’s the main one. I do believe the venue we got information on from the main boss is it. We’ll head over to view it in person in person this weekend, I’ll call tomorrow to book it. See what we can do. Seems anyone who uses a company one of his crewmates work for or anyone who uses his venue is those being targeted.” Jack says filling Ginger in.

“Mhm. We found the main boss at a venue booth, and a crewmate at a dress booth. No others yet at booths but there’s got to be some. We will look some more. However like Jack, I mean Whiskey said we found some others and took them out between the club and restaurant.” You add in.

Ginger raises an eyebrow at you calling Whiskey by his first name. You guys at Statesman rarely call each other by your actual first names.

“Sounds good. Keep your eyes peeled. There’s still a few out there I know and of course the main boss. Good work so far guys. Make sure to send me any pictures and information you have over whenever you can.” She smiles.

You nod and jump a little when Jack teasingly squeezes your butt under the covers to see if you reacted and Ginger noticed. And of course she did. She’s not only a smart woman who always has an eye out but your best friend.

You clear your throat. “Of course Ginger. We will do so in the morning. I’m going to go back to sleep now.” Using that as your cover to why acting so strange.

“Alright… um. Have a good night guys. Talk to you later.” She says, ending the call.

You sigh and push the covers back from your chin some, no longer having to hide. That was a close one you start to think when your phone dings. You roll off Jack’s shoulder to your side of the bed, toss your glasses down and grab your phone to see a text from no one other than… Ginger.

*Girl, I know you too well enough to know you two were definitely acting suspicious…* Her text says.

“Everything alright?” Jack asks, rolling over to his side to face you.

You crawl back over and lay on your back next to him, reading over Ginger’s message.

“Yea, just Ginger being suspicious. As one of my best friends she knows me too well to know something is up. But I’m not telling her right away, let’s see how long it takes her.” You chuckle

*What are you talking about?* You reply back

*Girl, you were all cozied up to Whiskey and acting strange. Don't think I didn’t notice… want to tell me something? ;)* She replies back. She had known about your crush on Whiskey for a while so she of course had to be the first to know if anything happened and would pretty much read you like a book.

*I just rolled over to join the call, We only have one bed here. I’m not sure what you’re talking about.* Your message says.

*Stop messin’ with me girl and fess up lol* She snarks back.

You look at Jack, for confirmation that you telling her is okay. He smirks and shrugs his shoulders in a I don’t care way.

*What if… I told you something did happen?* You hit send on the message.

*Tell me now and stop playing!* Ginger’s response read

“Send her this.” Jack smirks forwarding you the photo from the club earlier of you two kissing.

You forward the message to her with no context and immediately get a response.

*Was this for a part of the mission or for real?!* her message questions.

*Have fun figuring it out. I’ll let you know in the morning. I want to go back to be snuggled now ;)* You hit send and put your phone back on the nightstand.

You roll back over to face Jack, both chuckling at the interaction and snuggle up in his arms before dozing off for the night.

Taglist:

@sarahjkl82-blog @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @blackberries45 @hailmary-yramliah @prideandpascal @parkjammys

#agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels x you #agent whiskey #jack daniels #kingsman #kingsman golden circle #fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “Comic-con.”

You guys wanted something fluffier and lighthearted, so I took a suggestion from a group of the Discord server, and did this with it I hope you guys like, and thank you for the suggestions. “Where are you taking me? And why am I wearing this?”

Adam frowned at her, “Don’t be such a party pooper, I took you to watch MMA last week, and now its my turn to pick the fun activity.”

Sunny held up the glowing weapon --of facsimile of a weapon--, “What is this called again.”

“It’s an energy sword, from a really REALLY old video game.”

“And what are you supposed to be.”

Adam turned to look at her, shaking his head in disappointment, “Sometimes, I am sad for your lack of pop culture education.”

“And whose fault is it for my lack of pop culture education?”

He tapped his chin, “I suppose that is true.”

“To be fair the pop culture you subscribe to is like two thousand years old.” She looked him up and down. He was wearing a spacesuit and a jetpack. This might have been normal for him were it not for the painstaking hours that he had spent painting the thing and applying decals.

Where the standard issue UNSC space - suit ranged anywhere from white to silver to dark blue, this one was in a gaudy combination of white with green and purple highlights with a blue decal on the front embossed with the outline of stylized white wings. Under that, he had taken the time to dye one of the old undersuits purple, and was now wearing the hood to complete ‘the affect’

“Seriously though. What are You?”

He turned to look at her grinning and patted her on the shoulder, “Just wait.”

She sighed and did as told following him out of the underground parking lot and up into the sun. She threw her hand over her face as they came up into the sun, and when she withdrew her hand, she found herself surrounded by hundreds of humans all walking towards the same destination, and all of them were dressed, strangely… she couldn’t tell which ones for sure, because humans always seemed to dress strangely, but something bout this gave her the feeling that these ones were doing it on purpose..

At her side, Adam was grinning.

Following the line of people her eyes traced up to the large, and spacious building just up ahead. The walls were made out of metal and glass paneling, and across their surface scrolling scenes from movies and comic strips flashed.

Off to her side, a man in a blue and red suit, with a big yellow S on the front went floating past, his hover boots giving him the effect as if he were flying, red cape billowing out behind him.

Someone else to their side was walking a rather large brown dog towards the building. It had a teel collar and a couple of painted on black spots, while he was wearing a green shirt and brown pants. He looked like he really needed a haircut.

Sunny tilted her head to better read the letters on the building before her.

J. HAIL CONVENTION HALL

They were just outside the doors when someone ran up to them. THey looked younger, maybe in their teens, dressed with an elaborately colored wig, and strange colorful clothes, “Holy Shit! Your costumes are awesome, Can I get a picture?”

“Hell yeah.” Adam motioned the kid closer, pulling Sunny down beside them so the kid could grab a picture and then turn to look at Sunny, “How did you make it look so real. You look just like the Drev from that movie.”

She stared at him before looking down at herself.

Adam laughed, “It looks real because it IS real.”

The kid stared at them in disbelief, “No way.”

“Yeah she's a real life actual alien.”

Eyes went even wider, I...w...wow.”

Sunny shrugged and waved one of her arms to the kid as Adam dragged her further up the line.

“Here, hold out your hand.” She did as told and he wrapped a small plastic bracelet around her wrist. The letters on the band read VIP

Walking over to the doors they were stopped by a group of people holding up their hands. One of them walked around them, and pointed at Adam’s jetpack, “YOu have a licence for that?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

He reached into one of the pockets on his suit and pulled it out to show them. THey looked it over and then nodded, and he grinned. Tey read off some rules before they were suddenly interrupted.

Voices behind them, and Sunny turned.

A group of people walked up, one of them was dressed like a cowboy with a yellow shirt and blue pants, with a brown hat.

Another human in a blow up dinosaur costume pointed at Adam’s uniform,

“And what does that button do.”

Adam grinned, and Sunny watched him with a fond shake of her head as he approached them, putting on some sort of character voice.

“Ill show you.” Looking around to make sure that everyone was clear, he deployed the wings of the jetpack, striped in red and white.

The group oohed and ahhed.

THe cowboy moved forward, “Oh what, these are plastic, he can’t fly.”

“They are a trillium carbonic alloy and I CAN fly.”

“No you can’t”

“Yes I can.”

“Can’t.”

“CAN.”

“Can’t Can’t Can’t.”

“I could fly around this convention center with my eyes closed.”

Sunny just stood there watching them nervously shifting back and forth. She had a feeling that they were arguing, but it also felt very scripted, though how it could be scripted, she didn’t know. They had never seen these people as far as she was concerned.

The other man moved very close, “Ok then my light beer, prove it.”

“Alright then, I will.”

He held out his hands voice growing a bit more serious as he did, “Everyone step back.”

They did as told, and the cowboy was smiling now instead of frowning.

“Adam, is this legal.” Sunny wondered.

He turned to look at her, “Yes, the convention center has its own airspace just for this. I had to sign a waver.” He turned back to the others and ignited the engin on the jetpack kicking off the ground.

His flight was far more controlled than his original flight, and he flew in a fast circle around the area, dropping in with a flip to land before them to the cheering of an amassed crowd.

He pointed at the cowboy, “CAN.”

“That wasn’t flying, that was falling with style.” The man protested though he was grinning even as he walked over to take a picture with Adam.

“Pretty sure that made my day, your costume is awesome. Is this a real spacesuit.”

“You bet it is.”

“Where did you get your hands on one.”

“Oh I have my sources. Did you make your costume?”

“Sewed it myself. The hat and boots I bought though.”

They parted ways with Adam’s new friend and stepped inside the convention center scanning their bracelets as they went in.

“Welcome, Sunny to the biggest nerd convention ever conceived of by man...ComicCon.”

She turned in a wide circle eyes wide at thousands of booths, thousands of people all talking and laughing. He grabbed her hand and dragged hr further inside, “IF your good, I’ll buy you a sword.”

“Nerds want swords?”

He raised an eyebrow at her, “Of course nerds want swords. Here, lets start over there and movie this way, through the art section first.”

Sunny did as told, following after him.

She never knew Adam being one to spend a lot of money, he had no reason too, but after the first ten minutes she figured out that he was a little bit of a spender when it came to nerdy things. Posters and drawings and other related items.

However, she was surprised to find that they did have leather workers and blacksmiths as they were called, and she did…. In fact… get herself a sword which she recognized from the lord of the rings movie he had made her watch. It was a pretty good sword all things considered as if whoever made it actually knew how to make swords.

They were coming around a corner when they almost ran into another group of people. Adam dropped one of his bags and the other reached down to pick it up. When he stood, Sunny's eyes widened. Blond hair green eyes and an eyepatch, “Sweet Costume!”

She shook herself thinking she had bumped her head or something and was seeing double, but no, when she looked closer she realised that this person couldnt have been more than fifteen or sixteen…. And dressed like Adam.

She looked over at Adam who was standing mouth open eyes wide.

“Can I get a picture!”

Sunny just nodded her head as the kid jumped over next to her and had his friend take it before running off yelling back at her about her amazing costume.

Adam turned to look at Sunny, “Did I just>”

“I think you did.”

He shook himself, “Wow.”

She nodded

After that it started happening more and more.

Adam was everywhere, in all stages of life. They had recreated his uniforms, his flight suits, his space suits. They brought their dogs. There were even gender bent versions of him, blond women wearing eyepatches, brown jackets and jeans making it very clear who they were .

It got even more weird when Sunny started seeing herself.

Small children in costumes made of foam.

People wearing onesies that sort of looked like her, and even one costume that had a woman on stilts for her legs, and a complex system of homemade mechanics to allow her to move around.

Adam stood there mouth open just staring at them.

Sunny laughed at the irony.

He was here as a guest, and no one knew.

If only they had any idea that the real deal was here and dressed like a space ranger from a two thousand year old cartoon.

Sunny tilted her head listening to the announcements which said there would be a “Adam Vir look alike contest going on on the other side of the convention.

She turned to look at Adam and they both began to laugh hysterically. She grabbed his arm. We have to see this.

They wandered over just as the others were filtering in. And there were TONS of them, all dressed like Adam. One stopped next to him, spiky blond hair, clearly dyed for the occasion, wearing a flight suit and aviators.

Adam Tried to avoid eye contact with anyone as they sat down to watch, however no one recognized him, not even close.

They sat, watching the judging.

An adorable little boy with blond hair and a NASA T-shirt won for the younger age bracket.

The jumpsuit wearing kid to their right won for his teenage years.

At the end it was up between two men, one in casual wearing and one in a uniform. The one wearing the uniform had a similar lopsided grin as Adam and she would have chosen him as a dead ringer, and was almost put off when they chose the other man, who was, on the other hand, roguishly handsome.

She snorted, “He looks nothing like you.”

“But he does look like Keith Jenning who played me, so I guess people sort of conflate us as being the same person.”

“This is so unreal.”

They laughed again as they walked away sunny pointing out he probably would have lost the contest if he had tried to enter, and he laughed along with her.

THey were perusing through a booth with a bunch of old vintage movies when another announcement came over the intercom, saying that the cast of Adam’s movie was going to be speaking.”

Adam’s eyes widened, and together they made their way wanting to see what all the fuss was about. There were hundreds of people packed into the large room, and they were only able to get space just along one wall.

Up at the table, he recognized Keith Jenning, Rita. Ortiz, and Adler Handen, the voice actor for Krill and the woman who played Sunny.

Adam leaned back against the wall to watch.

Keith didn’t look anything like Adam at this moment, his hair back to brown like it usually was.

Hands raised in the crowd as questions were shot out, “What was the hardest part of playing Adam Vir?”

Keith laughed and then paused, “I think it might have been the eyepatch. I stubbed my toe like…. What was it Rita, we kept track on set.”

“About 456 times during the course of filming.” She added, and the group of them laughed.

“How accurate is the story to what actually happened?” Someone called out

Adler Handen leaned forward, “You know it was actually pretty accurate because Adam Vir was actually consulting through the whole process, though I think it is glammed up to make him look maybe a little more….”

“Poised.” Rita added, “Ellis gave him a bit of an action hero spin.”

“What is he actually like?”

Keith smiled as did Rita, “He’s hilarious, and kind, and a bit of a clutz I would say.”

Rita laughed, “That is one part of the movie that is inaccurate. I think they should have put it in, but he was like the last man to step onto Proxima B, and when he did he says he actually fell out of the shuttle and landed on his face.”

There was laughter from the crowd.

“Honestly a really modest guy all told.

“He has the personality of a golden retriever…. In a good way obviously.” Rita said

Keith had stood up from his palace at the table and was looking around the crowd for more questions, when his eyes fell on Adam and Sunny not a few rows away leaning against the wall.

The recognition was instantaneous, despite them not having seen for a long time. He pointed his eyes wide, “Adam…. Adam is that you. Sunny?”

The entire crowd turned and thousands of eyes fell on them.

Adam was stuck like a deer in the headlights hands held up.

“No way It IS YOU. Someone grab a chair and get him up here.”

Rita stood in her seat and waved.

Now people were standing to get a good look at them as two security people motioned them up.

Adam was bright red in the face as he was pushed to come on stage. The people looked confused, but when Adam pulled off his hood, and pulled on his eyepatch the entire convention center began cheering.

“Yeah give the man a round of applause.” Keith said pulling out a chair for him to sit on while Rita did the same for Sunny.

Adam shifted awkwardly in his seat.

“Nice costume, is that from Toy story?”

Adam shrugged, ‘Yeah, or the Tv show I guess.”

Someone hurried over with another microphone as the crowd below continued to babble and point.

Keith leaned forward, “Did I mention he was a raging nerd. Did you wear the costume to hide or….”

Adam shook his head, “No, I've been coming to the convention since I was a kid.”

There was cheering in the crowd.

Hands were raised high into the air for questions, and Adam blinked a bit red in the face still.

“Is it true what they said about Proxima B?”

Adam smiled, “uh yeah I fell flat on my face, right out the door. You see the movie had a ramp, but a ot of our ships don’t have ramps, they have doors because it would kind of be…. Impractical to have a whole ramp opening up into an airlock. So instead it had a door and stairs. And I got so excited that I missed the second stair and just fell.

“How accurate is the rest of the movie?”

He shrugged, still blushing, “They did make me look a little more… heroic, than I actually am. I mean there is a little known fact among members of the UNSC that doing a warp without a warp dampener like we did on the Enterprise was…. How shall we say… extremely hard on the body. About fifty percent of the men on the bridge peed themselves and passed out.”

There was laugher from the crowd.

“Were you part of the fifty percent?”

He snorted, “ I was nineteen of COURSE I was part of the fifty percent. Captain Kelly had a bladder of Iron though.”

More laughter.

“And when it came to meeting with aliens for the first time, I was so excited that I ran after them right….. Well as it turns out, to the aliens it looked really, really bad. Like they thought I was going to eat them.” More laughter, “We are still trying to repair human/Bran relations five years later because of me.”