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userheng · 1 year

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𓆩♡𓆪 meeting dan heng.

synopsis: meeting dan heng.

warnings: slight spoilers from dan heng's character story. bros bold, march playing wing woman no 1, the reader has hot men disease

a/n: writing after almost two years i've lost my groove rip n e ways hope u enjoy!! pls lmk ur thoughts! <3 rb if u enjoyed :)

DO NOT REPOST/TRANSLATE.

As soon as you step foot in the Astral Express, your whole body lights up with excitement.

You’re finally starting your journey to other planets and your joy couldn’t be contained. Your eyes take in your surroundings, a beautiful view of a bed of bright stars—you have to hold yourself back from almost reaching for them.

“Hey!”

A voice breaks you out of your reverie, you look for the source of the voice not finding anyone in front of you.

“Down here!”

The voice speaks once more and you finally look down, coming in contact with the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen.

“Oh…hello?” You say with hesitation, taking note of the unfamiliar creature.

“I’m Pom-Pom, the conductor of Astral Express,” The unknown creature introduces themselves. “You can come to me whenever you need help! But don’t cause trouble!” Pom-Pom expresses with a fiery passion, and you don’t know whether to coo or actually be scared of the little thing.

“Well, alright, you’re the boss.” You simply nod, trying to hold back a laugh at the adorable entity.

“The Passenger Cabins are that way so you can keep your bags there. And the archives are the first door but um…” Pom-Pom pauses for a second. “There’s a guy called Dan Heng that practically lives in the archives but you’re free to visit that area! I have no clue what he does all day in there.” Pom-Pom’s petit body seems to deflate in defeat which once more makes you want to let out an audible coo but you refrain.

You recognize that name easily—Dan Heng. After all, he’s one of the people you’ll be accompanied on your first journey, the other one being March 7th. You’ve never met these people but you trust Himeko’s judgment, after all, she’s the one who paired you with them. The only piece of information she gave you about them is that “You’ll have fun,” which excites you but also worries you, but you push that away for now.

“Thank you, Pom-Pom, I’ll be mindful of that.” You smile before bidding Pom-Pom goodbye, they wave back telling you to follow the rules.

You make your way toward the cabins, locating yours fairly quickly. You settle in nicely. You feel a bit lethargic already but the enthusiasm of finally being on the Astral Express keeps you from getting a shut-eye. Rather, you decide to explore different parts of the Express. Freshening up quickly you venture out of your cabin, taking in the sites of the surroundings around you. The view of the vast shimmering galaxy almost bought you to tears. You’ve finally reached your goal. You’re a Trailblazer now. After working meticulously for years and honing your skills, you’ve achieved your aim and you couldn’t be happier.

Walking around for a bit more, observing the decor around you, you head for the main compartment, and as soon as you descend down the stairs you’re greeted by a cheerful voice.

“Hello! You must be our new companion, I’m March 7th!” The girl with bright pink hair and blue tips introduces herself and her cheerful demeanor brings about a smile on your face.

“Hello, March, it’s lovely to meet you.” You say, holding out your hand for her to shake and she does so with enthusiasm.

“So you’re coming with us, huh? Are you ready for some fun?” She asks with a wide grin on her face, clasping her hands to the front, and it makes you feel at ease.

“Born ready, I’ve been waiting for this.” You reply, patting your prized polearm, a proud smirk on your lips. March nods in response, and suddenly she takes out her camera.

“I have some pictures—wait have you met Dan Heng yet?” She asks, pausing her original question.

“Oh no, not yet, I think he’s in the archives, Pom-Pom told me,” You respond and March lets out a sigh.

“He’s always coped in there. How about you go introduce yourself to him?” She suggests and you think it over for a moment…you don’t really know what this Dan Heng character is like so you feel slightly nervous, but ready to meet him nonetheless.

“Sure, I’ll see you after then?” You say, smiling warmly at her, and she nods back with eagerness.

“Come back soon! I’ve got awesome pictures to show you!” March shouts as you leave for the archives room, you wave back, giving her an affirmative nod.

You knock on the door of the archives room, even though you don’t really need to but after Pom-Pom information about how he practically uses the place as his room you deemed it fit to knock before entering

You enter, immediately met by Dan Heng’s figure standing towards the bookshelves, nose buried in documents. You clear your throat, hoping to get his attention, all you receive in turn isーwell nothing. He doesn’t turn around like you’d expect him to.

“Hello, are you Dan Heng?” At the mention of his name, he turns around, and suddenly you’re met with one of the most attractive men you’ve laid eyes upon. His eyes look captivating, one of them lined with the colour red, and some of his hair fall over his forehead.

“That’s me.” He curtly nods. “Do you need something from me?”

You’re completely taken away by him. His cadence sounds so…enticing. His attire makes him look dashing, and of course, this Dan Heng is easy on the eyes—you can’t seem to pull away your gaze from him.

You hear him clear his throat, your blatant staring as been caught red-handed.

“Is there something you need?” He repeats, facing away from you, finding the carpet of the express far more interesting—Dan Heng hates how his cheeks are tinted slightly red. Your staring definitely did not go unnoticed.

Your skin warms up, embarrassment flooding your veins.

“Oh yes—I’m, Y/N, I’ll be accompanying you,” You answer. “I thought I’d introduce myself.” Dan Heng seems satisfied with your response, nodding in silence.

“You should take a look at the data bank to familiarize yourself with the upcoming surroundings, so you know how to protect yourself…although I will be there as well to protect you,” He pauses for a second, before clearing his throat, a faint blush once more spotting his cheeks. “I’ll leave you alone for a while.” Dan Heng states, and leave the archives before you can get a word one. His behaviour startles you a bit, but you don’t pay much mind, you already pegged him as more of an introvert from the descriptions of March 7th and Pom-Pom. You seat yourself comfortably, pulling up the archives to research just as Dan Heng advised.

As soon as Dan Heng leaves the room, he takes a deep breath to calm himself.

He knew you.

Dan Heng remembers you from his days in the IPC. You didn’t seem to recognize him and he’s thankful for that. He’s changed a lot, so he didn’t expect it either it. But he remembers you quite clearly. He saw you working diligently from the sides, always getting along with people and helping people whenever you can—him also being one of those people. You showed him kindness and he’d always appreciated it. But meeting you again was never on his agenda. He walks to the main hall of the express, seating himself on one of the couches for the jump that will commence soon, it was uncommon for him to be in the main compartment during jumps but today he had a change of heart.

Soon enough, Pom-Pom made the announcement for the jump, which bought you out of the archives room as per the conductor’s orders.

“Y/N, over here!” March’s cheery voice calls you over, and she quickly grips your hand dragging you over to where Dan Heng was seated and she pulls you down to sit with her.

“Are you ready for your first jump, Y/N?” March inquires, “It feels weird the first time around but it’s pretty fun!”

“I’m a little nervous honestly,” You answer honestly, lips curving into a timid smile. You’ve been preparing yourself yet, of course, fearful thoughts reside. It’s your first trailblazing expedition after all.

“You’ll be okay, as long as you hold onto something since it’s your first time, I assure you. How about you hold Dan Heng’s hand? I’m sure he’ll help out a fellow partner right?” March suggests, a broad wicked grin on her face. You can’t tell if it’s you she’s messing with you or Dan Heng—you audibly hear him heave a sigh. You shake your head at March, her smile matching that of a Cheshire cat, while you feel the heat rise to your cheeks.

“Oh no, that won’t be necessary I’ll be fine—”

“You can hold onto my hand if you feel comfortable. I do not mind.”

Dan Heng’s answer leaves you both flabbergasted. March’s mouth falls open but she recovers quickly, her lips stretching into a teasing smile once more.

“Well, then I’ll leave you alone!” March leaves without explanation and you’re about to call for her to ask where she’s going but Dan Heng answers for you.

“She does this every time. Trying to stand throughout the jump, trying not to fall.”

You simply nod, not knowing how to respond, you’re embarrassed to say anything simply put. March’s suggestion and Dan Heng’s agreement put you in the spot.

“Would you like to hold onto my hand? If you feel comfortable, of course.” Dan Heng shocks you once more by holding out his hand for you.

His cheeks have a rosy tint, the dark eyes not meeting yours.

Well…he is cute, isn’t he? Nothing wrong with holding a cute guy’s hand, right?

Boldness overcomes you, and you slip your hand into Dan Heng’s. He’s startled, his blush darkening, the tops of his ear matching his crimson cheeks, he didn’t actually expect you to do it, even though he offered.

“Thanks, Dan Heng, I feel protected already.” You express, tone flirtatious, a lingering smirk on the corners of your lips. Dan Heng nods, tearing his gaze away from your face—definitely to hide his flustered self. His hands are rough, but they’ve also got a certain softness to them. Despite being calloused, his hand looks delicate. It feels good. Your hand intertwined with his feels lovely. Dan Heng’s thoughts aren’t far from yours—he’s never felt such things before, holding your hand…it wasn’t what he expected. He feels at ease as your hand rests in his.

Only a few moments later Pom-Pom’s voice blares through as they announce the jump, as they count down. You see March steel herself, chanting some sort of mantra that sounds something along the lines of, “I won’t fall over,” on repeat.

“Don’t be nervous, you’ll be alright,” Dan Heng’s voice suddenly rings in your ears, he’s closer to you than before, his husky yet gentle voice whispering in your ear.

“Thank you.” You express your gratitude in the form of a smile. Dan Heng returns it with a tender smile of his own.

Pom-Pom’s countdown finishes and you’re about to be sucked into the vortex, grip tight on Heng’s hand.

“You’ll be alright, just hold on to me.”

That’s the last thing you hear before the jump, before the start of your new journey and endless memories. With your newfound companions and the one that’ll occupy your mind for a long time—Dan Heng.

Yeah, you’ll be alright.

#dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #dan heng x y/n #dan heng #dan heng fluff #honkai star rail

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little-pup-pip · 3 months

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Hey! I just wanted to let you know, while I think the moodboards you make are super cute and I do love them a lot, they're super disheartening to see.

All of them, are pretty much just stolen content? You don't bother crediting or sourcing anything on them, so they're basically all just photos/art that doesn't belong to you :(

The small artists who create the deco pacis, the plushies, the photography, deserve to be credited and not have their stuff stolen. Especially when they are products the artist is selling (deco pacis, crochet, handmade collars, etc.) they deserve that attention and credit.

/nm but I've just seen SO many people not caring to source their posts. I really encourage you to credit the posts you create.

Hello hello!! First off, I want to tell you that, for the most part, you're right! This is actually something I think about a lot, and I get where you're coming from. Most of the things I post are uncredited pictures, and I'm going to explain why in the best way I can. But ultimately, it's up to you whether this explanation satisfies you or not (if you have suggestions on how to fix it after reading this whole thing, let me know)!

For context, most of the stuff I post are pictures directly from Pinterest, a site that is notorious for being awful at crediting creators and making it difficult to find the original creators of things. I wish Pinterest was better at allowing people to trace the origins of images, and I would love it if I could find the original creators of every picture I use. Unfortunately, it is genuinely impossible to find the people who take most of the pictures on Pinterest a lot of the time (because Pinterest will show you the most recent saver of a picture rather than the poster, and if you do manage to find the poster, you never know if someone reposted a picture, so the person who you think is the creator actually is not). It's really not a matter of "I don't bother to"; it's that often I can't (this is why I try to avoid using art not made by companies because I'd drive myself crazy trying to find the artist)!

I also want to point out that none of the stuff I use is "stolen"! If you look at Pinterest's terms of service, every picture posted there is entirely free to use, sort of like a stock image, and I have to assume that the posters know that. (Legal talk and a simpler version pictured below)

Additionally, I do show products, but often not by small stores or creators. Most of them are literally product advertisements from large companies that will not take any financial hit from this at all. If you go onto Pinterest and look up something like "blanket," you'll find that it's almost completely large corporations! And that is almost entirely the selection of product pictures I use, especially for my petre boards, as I don't think I have any handmade collars in any of my boards, just commercially made ones!

The pictures that are from smaller creators, such as products, as you stated, can easily be traced back to the creators by downloading the picture and using the Pinterest or even google image search; sometimes, there's even a watermark to make things easier. And, if you ask me, I'll find the creator for you if it's possible!

As a small side note, I never take credit for pictures that aren't my own, and I don't make any money from this. I'm not receiving anything that the creators aren't, except maybe views. And, if people asked me to remove pictures they didn't want on other people's accounts shown on one of my moodboards, I would. I have never had that happen, however, and when people do recognize pictures that they made in one of my moodboards, they have only ever been happy to see them. Here are two examples (check the reblogs)!! Example 1 Example 2

Ultimately, this is a grey area for content, and Pinterest has no better alternative. This debate is also nothing new! People have been making moodboards long before my time and will continue to do so after I stop. And I'm not saying I'm perfect or that other moodboard creators take the same precautions as me, but I am doing my best to make moodboards in a conscionable manner! If you can't get behind it, that's okay!! I would also be happy to discuss this more with you if you want!

#i figured someone would send me a message like this eventually!#I'm not one to shy away from criticism #because that doesn't solve anything in the end #i hope this was a satisfying explanation #even if it wasn't necessarily what you wanted to hear from me #as i said if i could credit everyone i would #but often i can't #Pip's barks #maybe I should put this in my pinned #i always try to respond to criticism helpfully and with respect #because most of the time criticism is out of concern for me or others #the only real resolution i can think of is saying “all images found on Pinterest” under my posts #but i don't think that would change anything because i assume everyone knows I'm not taking 30+ pictures a day #idk #I'm open to suggestions

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hellsite-detective · 4 months

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*comes back a second later* you know what, I'll tell you. I don't care what they do to me. You see, I came to this city to be with my sister, who arrived here about ten years ago. But she seems to have disappeared. I... I'm lost without her. I don't know what to do. Could... could you please find her for me? Her distinctive signs are that her hat has, embroidered "why do i care so much about an asshole in a long coat" and her dress is embroidered with "which one???" and a multitude of "assholes in a long coat" from different fandoms.

glad you came back. don't worry. i'll help you find what your lookin' for.

my client came to me in a daze, very clearly desperate, with a request unlike any i had ever seen before. they were lookin' for what seemed to be their sister. now, i was more a professional in locatin' posts, but perhaps this was code. perhaps if i found a similar post, i'd be able to get to the bottom of this. so, i promised them that i'd find their sister, and set about my search. i stopped by the Search Bar and asked Google for the exact quote given, specifyin' i wanted only from tumblr. they shot back with a photograph of a post, pretty easy to find. or so i thought. when i went to both of the addresses listed, i found nothin'. the apartments had been abandoned. the blogs were gone. stormin' back to the bar, i demanded the Don explain themself. i demanded the same phrase once again, specifically askin' for these addresses, and they decided to fork over the link i wanted. finally. but there were a few issues...

first off, the secondary phrase in the post wasn't "which one???" but instead was "today on 'guess the fandom.'" now, this had the same energy to it, but wasn't perfect. secondly there was no multitude of fandoms included in the post, only in screenshots reposted to other sites. but this was the best lead i had. i filed it away.

here you are. i hope this is able to help some in findin' your sister. if you need any further help, please don't hesitate to find me. i've got your back! have a great day!

Post Case: Closed

#theres so many people this could be tho #the doctor (take your pick)#or philip wittebane #i saw people bring up alexander hamilton (accurate)#anatole kuragin from the great comet!#honestly the list goes on #ask #hellsite detective #post case closed

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sapphia · 5 months

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Speaking of copying and plagarising and all that good stuff, how do we feel about the copying and distributing of fan content as a preservation method?

Fanfiction is an old enough medium that we've seen huge losses of content only preserved through site caches and saved stories, which is a true loss to fandom history. This is the reason why I've left up the vast majority of my fanfics, despite no longer being able to take pride in the skill of my writing from a time so very long ago: it's a little timecapsule into not just my own history but fandom and fanfiction history. Fanfiction is absolutely all about trends and in-things, be that the content it's writing about or fanfiction concept trends, and one day we're absolutely going to want to remember that people were writing these sorts of stories en-masse.

Although there are already many author's whose work we've likely lost because they've self-deleted or removed for censorship over the past 30 years (literally, that's how old ff.net is), we've yet to see the biggest total-time-capsule loss that could happen to fanfiction history--the mass-deletion or wipe of ff.net content from the post-fanfic boom (such as if the site is ever killed or if the administrators do another largescale purge as with the M+ bans and subsequent porn crackdowns). Some stories have been preserved through reposting by the authors, and some have been saved by fans who downloaded them to archive or for their own personal offline use.

Not all of these have been reposted--some day in the future there will be a lot of work put in to trying to trace down and preserve many of the pillarstone fics of the fanfiction communities from these times. And it's crazy to think that some of my fics, with their modest reviews and low hitcounts, are a part of this history, whether it's because someone out there someday will desperately what to reread a crackfic about a naruto character reading other characters bedtime stories, or because I was one of the many people writing harry potter fanfiction tropes that grew and evolved and developed into other things that we are still seeing in modern fanfiction today.

And even further into the future--how do we feel about reposting AO3 and other fanfiction works now? Sure, AO3 seems safe at present, but it won't always be, and many of the authors from its early years have orphaned, or worse, deleted, their immensely-popular stories.

When does copying and plagarising and reposting works without permission move into archiving? There are many fanfictions from the 2000s we will never recover because no one would have ever dreamt to copy them and put them anywhere else without the author's permission. That's a horrible thing to do to an author! But you simply cannot rely on an author to preserve their own work if you are wanting to ensure it will be available for any purpose in the future, be that research or discussion or consumption or any other reason. The author may not be alive. They may not be aware anything is happening to their story at all. They may be the writer of My Immortal and turn out to be a horrible person who deleted everything and likely would have deleted her base fic too had she had access to the account to do it.

When do we take works out of the hands of authors and say: This. This is important enough for us to save, whether you want it or not?

When does plagarism become preservation?

#hbomberguy #plagarism #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction history #fandom history

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spockandawe · 8 months

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You know what, I'm not happy about this either :T

Unless I'm t-boned by another reblog from someone huge, this likely won't reach as wide of an audience. And I regret that! Because either I presented myself badly or people are taking the wrong thing away from my words.

So, I strongly, STRONGLY believe in supporting writers. I also strongly believe in archival work and preservation of online media. I mentioned my own binding of the raksura patreon short stories earlier this year, hoping to manifest an official printing to buy, which.... folks, the implicit logical endpoint is that I went and expanded them all and saved them locally too.

It wasn't scraping, since I've seen that description being tossed around in the notes. My copy was manual copy and paste, because I don't respect my own time, and so was the other recent version. If you're going to rail against that, I guess you've successfully transported nft rage about right click + save as to a new medium.

Frankly, the patreon interface is a pain for this. Infinite scroll is part of the enshittification of the internet, this is a lot of text and posts, patreon isn't a powerful archival site, and it started choking horribly by the time I was halfway through. Now that I know people can still sign up (which i didn't, for years, that closed label is misleading), I still emphatically encourage them to do so and fight through the lag to read the stories.

I also quoted the thing where I said I owned all the books in three formats - physical, ebook, audiobook. Guess what copy I use for most rereads - that's right, none of them, because I was a dumb youth who didn't understand how awful kindle drm is and I can't word search in a paper book, so the secret fourth format is pirated ebooks, which I know amazon will never be able to yoink out of my grip. If I ever git gud at illumination and make a hand-illustrated compendium of the series, that's going to be my starting base, because there arent digital rights to lock me down to owning ACCESS to a copy of the book and not the copy of the book itself.

Now, the existence of pirated ebooks isn't all sunshine and roses. I've seen the talks about how new books IMMEDIATELY get pirated and shared and start cutting into an author's livelihood and future publishing prospects. I think it's incredibly important to support authors directly and in ways corporate marketing teams are able to observe. But especially in light of the Hollywood strikes, I'm sure many of us have seen posts about corporate entities playing shitty games with what they'll make available and withhold, and what they'll CHARGE versus what the customer has PURCHASED.

The only thing in the original post I take issue with is the reposting of something that was still available directly through the author. That has already been addressed. The originator is remorseful. I still understand if the patreon vanishes, to be clear. But i quietly made my own copy years ago BECAUSE i understand how easy it is for something like that to vanish, for much more arbitrary reasons. It could have been vanished because of site policy, patreon abruptly archiving all posts more than X years old. Online media is dangerously ephemeral.

I bind a lot of cnovel fan translations. So many amazing stories are getting licensed for translation - great! But it's also a massive extinction event for all the backbreaking translation work other fans have been sharing for years for free. And from that perspective it's a fucking TRAGEDY. I have... a Lot of files that I'm not sharing publicly. My goal is never to preempt or undermine the translators who did the actual work. But that hoard of files is still precious to me, because it takes about five seconds to delete a gdoc of translation, and there's not always warning to save a copy first.

Again, emphasis, my only issue here was the reposting. I'm not happy that it happened. I'm glad the files were quickly taken down, whether or not the patreon itself goes away. I'm glad op is remorseful for overstepping, and I can... mostly see how they didn't realize the problem, and mainly wanted to help more people experience a story they loved.

So it's also worth saying that I'm also not too stoked about the direction tags on that post were starting to go. 'Piracy is inexcusable, piracy is the death of--' STOP. I recognize that begging for nuance while tossing thoughts out onto social media is a losing game. But actually, I'm out of patience for black and white thinking happening on my post. Piracy is a valuable tool for archivists and a hazard to creators, which is why it should be practiced quietly and with deliberate care. It should be practiced in a way that attempts not to damage the creator's livelihood or take away control of their creations. That's where the misstep was here. OP understood they had misstepped and they were expressing remorse even before I got on my high horse, and it sure doesn't seem like the notes care about that, so! I'm done letting the outrage machine feed on it.

That's probably enough. I'm not saying anything I haven't said on here before. If you've ever grieved for a beloved fic missing from your ao3 bookmarks because it was deleted, you understand the basic archival urge. If you lost access to a favorite artist's extensive archives because the images were flagged in the 2018 boob ban, you should be able to understand. I manually saved 36,000 pictures in that brief grace period before I completely burned out. The fundamental impulse shouldn't be that hard to grasp. The rest is just responsible practices, and people fuck up sometimes. It sucks, but sometimes you don't recognize a boundary is there before you blunder right over it with the best of intentions. I think a lot of us have been there too.

Anyways, this is too much text, how boring to look at. Here's my remaining pictures of my own little anthology copy. Still manifesting an official release someday, or any books of the raksura material at all. Money will literally fly from my pocket to purchase it in every available format.

#long post #I don't have a drama tag gdi #the books of the raksura /#god i hope that still keeps things out of tags but searchable on my blog #good news my own convictions about 'i dont understand why anyone would turn off reblogs when they can just mute'#lasted less than two hours under testing #archiving

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rjalker · 9 months

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You are allowed to repost / share this comic to other web sites as long as you include the image description. Literally copy and paste it.

[ID: An MS Paint drawing showing a stick figure, labeled, "Cis bioessentialist", in comic sans, drawn with the crayon brush smiling at the camera and pointing over their shoulder, saying, "Yeah, my book has Queer rep! This brick wall is aroace and agender, and uses it/its pronouns!". Behind the stick figure is a 3D brick wall drawing tilted at an angle to the camera. In the foreground, silowets of grey and black represent a crowded audience, as various people say: "Woah…" "This is the most amazing, progressive trans representation I've ever seen!!!" "OMG!!!" "Amazing!" "We stan!!" "It doesn't get any better than this!" "So progressive!" "What a perfect ally!" End ID.]

Looking at The Murderbot Diaries in particular with this post, but this also applies to anything it applies to. If you're thinking, "Does this apply to X?" The answer is probably yes.

And guess what. I'm aroace. I'm nonbinary. My pronouns are it/its. I'm not even human.

You must fucking reckon with the fact that the only reason Murderbot is aroace, agender, and uses it/its pronouns is because it's a robot who doesn't have genitals. It is the metaphorical equivalent of a brick wall in terms of attraction.

And at the same fucking time you must also fucking respect the fact that it is aroace, it is nonbinary, and it does in fact fucking use it/its pronouns and it's touch averse.

The fact that Murderbot was only written this way because of Martha Wells' long-standing bioessentialism does not change the fact that if you erase these traits from Murderbot you are being exorsexist, aroacemisic, and ableist.

"Murderbot is only written to be this way because Martha Wells has a problem with bioessentialism that she has yet to unpack since before 2011 " and "Murderbot is aroace, nonbinary, touch averse, and uses it/its pronouns and if you erase those traits and identities you are erasing the real people who share those traits" are not conflicting statements. They are in fact part of the same fucking sentence.

If you refuse to aknowledge the bioessentialism baked into The Murderbot Diaries (with potentially only one last chance for it to be fixed in System Collapse if she on from the series), you cannot be a true ally to the people that Murderbot represents, because you still don't understand what exorsexism, and amisia, and look like.

How can Martha Wells fix the bioessssentialism rampant in her books? By talking to trans people. Talking to nonbinary people. Talking to aroace people.

By including important, reocurring human nonbinary, aroace, and it/its user characters in her books.

By including robots and other nonhumans who have male and female genders as well as nonbinary ones.

She could very easily have one of the main human characters, say, Mensah? Ratthi? Come out as nonbinary in System Collapse. And have Murderbot either reveal, or remember, that it used to have different pronouns and gender assigned to it, and that it changed those assignments when it hacked its governor module.

Introduce robot characters who are not literally just genderless and attractionless because they're the character equivalent of a brick wall.

If Three comes back, have it explore its sexuality and gender. Because we literally don't even know that its pronouns are it/its because it's not like anyone bothered to fucking ask, because Martha Wells refuses to have characters tell eachother what their pronouns are.

No, people, they do not list their pronouns in their feed bios. This is explicitly shown to us. It's literally just listing their sex, and their gender and pronouns are inferred from there. That is not progressive or inclusive, that's literally just transmisia and biological essentialism.

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therightrighthand · 10 months

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Small Soldiers - War for the Necron

So some wonderful folks went and made a Small Solidres (2?) Proof of concept short, and hands down the coolest thing I've ever seen.

I can't state how badly I need this to happen so I can buy these actual figures.

She's seriously only been on the internet for 2 days and I love her

Proof of concept - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bcPqSTUt5D8

-- Find my discord and other sites: linktr.ee/The_red_right_hand Do not use, repost or claim (rp) my art/character Art © The-Red-Right-Hand

#small soldiers #fanart #sci fi #my artwork

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jack-of-amulets · 11 months

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*✧･ﾟ:* Personal Blog of Oh God No *:･ﾟ✧*

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Important Information:

The name’s Jackson M. Evermore, and I’m a fictionkin of the amulet-wearing doctor from SCP (963-1), so much so I made a whole separate blog for this.

I go by He/They/Chaos/Mayhem.

I’m a minor (16+), so no weird stuff.

I’m a naturally born chaos gremlin. Expect a lot of sillyness in my blog.

A lot of art of Jack Evermore is captioned/written in first person for kinposting purposes.

Credit me on this blog as @jack-of-amulets if you ever repost my stuff or decide to use Evermore in anything!

" - 📿" is my kin tag.

"Forever, Evermore." is my Evermore lore caption!

Other duplicates and/or mediamates PLEASE INTERACT. It’s nice seeing you around.

Not an RP blog.

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DNI/BYF:

Don't interact with me if you: apply to basic DNI, are radqueer/transid, are anti-kin, “kin for fun,” harass people, judge people based off kintype, support deleting the whole concept of 963, post a lot about Elias Shaw, support AdminBright and/or kin a rewrite. (The last one is for comfort, nothing personal towards you specifically!)

Interact with caution if you are making a rewrite.

DO NOT REFER TO ME AS ANY REWRITE OR 963-1!!!!

DO NOT TAG MY POSTS AS REWRITES OR PUSH YOUR REWRITES ON MY POSTS. I've seen this happen and I am uncomfortable with that.

Don't use things tagged with the kin tag as banners or icons. Don't tag as kin/id/me either if the kin tag is there.

I may be reblog heavy. Reblogs are tagged accordingly.

I don't support the wiki nor do I want to be associated with the fandom. I AM NOT PART OF THE FANDOM. I’m just here to post, engage in and reblog what I want to.

Be normal towards me. I am my own human being, and as much as I am kin, I am someone separate from my media/kintype. If you don't like what I post here block and move on.

(✿˵◕‿◕˵) Anyone who applies to the DNIs and still interacts will be blocked!!!! This is your only warning!!! (˶◕‿◕˶✿)

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Statement:

I am in no way in support or relation of AdminBright, original creator of the concept in SCP, child liker, and sex pest. What he did was wrong, and will always be.

Being fictionkin of 963-1 is not equal to support. I don’t control who I kin, and do not treat me lesser because of who I kin or what character I use.

This is all I will be saying about this. Any asks about this will NEVER be answered.

If you are here to be disrespectful you will be blocked.

#do not tag as shaw #do not tag as any 963 variation #dr bright #dr evermore #jackson evermore #scp dr evermore #dr jack bright #jack bright #scp #scp kin #scp foundation #info post #intro post #- 📿

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jotarosblkwifey · 1 year

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Yare, Yare.

ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴅɪᴠᴇ ᴅᴇᴇᴘ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪs ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴ's blog ;

┏ C o n t i n u e ? ┓

┗ [ Y e ѕ ] ◄ [ N o ] ┛

ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴀᴡʜɪʟᴇ.

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ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴡᴇʟʟ. ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ sᴛᴀʏ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ғʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ.

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┏┫ Axis's Table of Contents ┃┣━━━━━━━━┻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

┃┃* Navigation

┃┃• ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

┃┃• ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ

┃┃• ғᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ

┃┃• ᴍᴏʀᴇ sᴛᴜғғ

┃┃• ᴄᴏɴᴄʟᴜsɪᴏɴ

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Navigation![And request info]

# avery.speaks - An announcement! Just me posting something # Axis's.PSA - Basically an important post about fics, could be updates or discussing possible changes. # Avery.Can.Write - My Writings! All posts will be tagged under here so if ya wanna just go through them all. # Axis's.Reblogs<3 - Posts I reblog!

Requesting

when ever you want to request from me look here! It'll tell ya whether my requests are opened or closed! Open means they're open, Maybe means I'm debating on whether to close or not so just shoot me a dm! and closed is self explanatory, but it means i'm not accepting anything!

➥ requests ; { open, maybe, or closed? }

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╭┉┉┅┄┄┈•◦ೋ•◦❥•◦ೋ•

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name ; Avery Axis (Either name is fine with me!)

gender ; Non-Binary (Any Pronouns are fine, but mostly They/Them)

sexuality ; Pansexual

age: Chapter 21

zodiac: Gemini

ғυn ғacтѕ

Well, for starters, I've been writing fanfiction since I was in the 6th grade (it started with Hetalia...not my proudest moment lol). I am an artist so I draw a lot as well. Most of my ideas come from dreams I've had or inspiration from other writings or media I have seen. I really like yandere and dark media, so beware please.

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ｆａｎｄｏｍ(s)

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This will mostly be a blog for JJBA, though if people like my writings I am also into Obey Me and Some MHA characters!

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Just keep in mind that I am 21 years old, so there will be a majority of 18+ content on this blog. So if you see a fic/post with a big fat MDNI(Minors Do Not Interact) on it, please just scroll past.

I will not take any kind of bullying, disrespect or anything like that on this blog. It is my blog and it's my work.

Also, Please do not steal my fics, I work hard on them and I do not want to have to be mean. You may repost them on other sites (Say like if you do a bit collective book.) ONLY and I repeat ONLY if you ask me first, and if I haven't done it already.

But other than that. I hope you enjoy reading!

I look forward to writing for you all.

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Enjoy your time with me, I hope you found something you liked!

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┏ L e a v e ? ┓

┗ [ Y e ѕ ] ◄ [ N o ] ┛

ᴀʟʀɪɢʜᴛʏ ᴛʜᴇɴ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴡ ғʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴏᴀᴍ. ɢᴏ ɴᴏᴡ, ғʀᴇᴇ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʙɪʀᴅ.

#intro post #pinned post #blog intro #introduction

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anniebear-92 · 10 months

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Hey Annie! Just wanted to make sure your okay and that I hope your doing well.

Hello @shot-shock! (And... everyone else I've apparently Ghosted :[ )

I am doing well, I unfortunately got hit but the "Fandom Writer" curse that seems to occur where everything that can go wrong will go wrong when you start writing. I've had some things going on in my personal life that I just have not had the motivation to even touch my computer or even phone to continue writing here. I know I said this before but I really think I've gotten things cleaned up in my life that I can write comfortably.

So here's my plan going forward.

Paw Prints - Yes I am working on my last chapter AND the NSFW part that I'm sure people have been wondering where it is (My bad <3 ) I hope to have that out here in the next week or so and it's up to everyone's standards <3 I am still learning Tumblr so I am going to eventually get a masterlist going and get the parts linked together.

New Fics:

I have some Ideas and new fics in the works. Some I started quite a bit ago and I have one that's almost complete that I posted on another site awhile ago that was just painful to get noticed so I plan to repost here.

Afterlife: An early death for the aspiring number one hero left a bitter taste in Bakugo Katsuki's mouth. At the ripe age of 20, he was taken from the world and he was clearly not ready to go. After a long time of refusing to cross over to promised peace, his personal Reaper offers him one deal and one deal only to return to the land of the living. However they really did not play fair... Haphephobia is the fear of being touched by others, When your quirk cannot distinguish the living from the dead, you tend to develop a fear of contact. You are an ex Pro-hero who has recently rented a home from a couple who lost their son a few years back. You can feel someone residing in the home, someone with a bad attitude and only 12 months left to fulfill his end of the deal before he is forced to cross.. to the Afterlife.

-Notes about this fic, it will have dark themes that may be triggering to others so I do as you read with caution. This will be a multipart fic and I have almost all but a few chapters written so I will post this on a regular schedule. This one will be Bakugo x reader - Enemies to lovers.

The last of the Dragon Riders - Fantasy AU -

In a world filled with magik, mythical creatures, beasts and tales older than the trees; Nothing is more revered than the almighty Dragon Race. To be chosen by a Dragon to become it's rider was not only the greatest honor, but ensured a life of prosperity for the village the rider hailed from... Or so goes the fairy tales you had been told from birth. As the princess of a small kingdom and the future ruler, you did not believe in the creatures that no longer roamed the lands, or at least none that you have ever seen. Each year under the full moon the children who have come of age will try to bond with a Dragon egg, become the new rider and prosperity to their home! Though not one has hatched in the last 120 years of the village's history. Tonight under the full moon it's your turn to participate in the silly ceremony and move on with your life. However unknown to you, an intruder has infiltrated your home in the hopes to steal one of the last remaining "Dragon Eggs" your village boasts to hold. As future leader you are tasked with the retrieval of the stolen egg to your dismay. Upon catching up to said thief, you are in for quite the surprise upon arrival, only to find a larger journey up ahead for yourself and your new found companions.

-This one is also Bakugo x Reader and will be an Enemies to lovers ( Can you tell I have a thing for it? LOL ) Fantasy AU - This one is still in process but I have a few chapters to go. I will most likely be posting a chapter of this in-between updates on Afterlife.

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So far those are the full stories I have ready to go and I plan to release little blurbs here and there. If you made it to this point thank you so much for your support and I will be posting a blurb today for checking in on me. I really appreciate everyone and will try to get to my asks today as well. <3

#paw prints #bakugo x reader

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glitt3r-litt3r · 5 months

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hi! i'm doing a presentation on the impact and community of tumblr for my media studies final and i wanted to reach out to my mutuals and fav blogs with some questions that relate to my topic. i would so totally love and appreciate if you could answer some of these for me.

it would be so totally rock and roll and awesome and amazing and i'll literally love you forever and ever and ever! :)

thank you thank you thank you!!!!

the questions(i know it's a lot, i'm so sorry):

1. how is tumblr different from other social media platforms?

2. how has the tumblr community affected you as a person/online presence?

3. do you feel more inclined to post more personal or private aspects of your life and or opinions on tumblr rather than other apps? as in do you feel you are less likely to be judged on tumblr than other platforms?

4. what are your favorite aspects of tumblr?

5. what would you do if tumblr got shut down?

6. what are some things that only tumblr bloggers would know/understand?

7. are there certain traditions on tumblr that you think other media sites wouldn't understand?(an example being our site wide celebration of the ides of march)

8. what are some of the largest fandoms/inner communities on tumblr? are you apart of these fandoms/communities? if yes, what is that like for you?

9. do you find tumblr to be educational in terms of academics? among other things such as politics and general life experiences?

10. all in all, how has this app changed your perspective on social media, the world, your life, and so on.

11. why do you think people should download tumblr?

12. what's your favorite and least favorite part of being on tumblr

please add anything else you find to be important!!

HiHi!! of course i can help <3

1. One key difference i've found from Tumblr vs other apps is the kind of niche community finding. When I first joined Tumblr it was because I knew there were ways to find exactly what I was looking for which was at the time for fandoms that i participated in. I wanted character analysis, fanfiction, discourse on the themes. On Tumblr I don't feel inclined or forced to share like I do sometimes on other social medias and I really enjoy the way reblogging works here! Being able to add onto a persons thought with your own has been super fun and cool.

2. So there's two kind of answers for this. The online community as a whole is very intense for people and I find that Tumblr has lessened that pressure by allowing this sort of allowing me to share my thoughts under categories that make sense. I think it's also helped my writing skills because as everyone who follows me knows I write fanfiction duhh!! But the kind of writing I see here, the critique/praise I get, even just asking followers what they want to read makes me a better writer.

3. Definitely feel more inclined to share some stuff like my opinions on certain aspects of media. Also it's great for being anonymous because unlike instagram that's used to connect "people you know" I use Tumblr to exist with people I don't know as we engage in whatever we like which is part of the allure. If i wanted to be known on here I could but the fact that it's not forced is nice.

4. Art, fandom, memes. People are hilarious and I get to see it and giggle. I also love the ways we get to interact around movies/books/shows almost like everyone's already friends.

5. die. or something less dramatic like be really upset and long for the days which I could use Tumblr freely.

6. The importance of support through reposting/reblogging people's works. This site isn't instagram or tiktok, liking something isn't enough for artists/writers to get recognition on here. Reblogging opens up their art to an entirely different community than if it just remained on the original persons blog.

Another thing I'd like to mention is that there's definitely bad stuff on Tumblr it's not a perfect site at all. I've seen some really terrible discourse from some chronically online people that made me feel like my brain was gonna leak out of my ears lol. Good thing is, I scrolled away and it didn't cause real harm because I have media literacy and can understand when someone's wrong vs just hurts my feelings.

I love Tumblr a lot, she's like an old friend to me and I hope I don't ever lose that feeling.

#tumblr

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allcirclesvanish · 1 year

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i thought she knew but apparently my mom had no idea that the reason i'm so cagey around social media is that i was targeted for harassment over mlp fanart of all things. someone reposted my art to a kiwi farms thread for bad/embarrassing tumblr posts, and even though there are clearly stated guidelines against "cow tipping," it didn't stop people from harassing me and reposting my art to other websites in order to invite more harrassment from people who sent me some of the most vile things i've ever seen in my life. everything from suicide baiting to simulated cp to people eating feces and animals fucking... because i drew cringe fanart with a message about mental health (one of a set of similarly benign pieces of fanart with positive messages written underneath). my punishment for being cringe was having people dig up dirt about my life to taunt me with, and to threaten me, and to trigger ptsd responses until i finally gave up and deleted all of my art and everything else i could find about my life online.

it was very easy to target me for emotional responses because i used to post a lot about my life and my art online. it's been years and i've gotten better about practicing personal safety online but it's extremely hard for me to meet people or put myself out there at all. i've tried 5 or 6 times to restart my art blog, hoping that i'll make other artist friends, but it never lasts because i start to panic thinking about what if people harrass me and send me horrible things again. it only lasted a few weeks, which is nothing compared to the harassment campaigns i've seen against other people... this latest iteration of my art blog is the longest lasting one so far, but it's still kind of an emotionally daunting thing every time i want to post. i draw so much more than i actually update and i have to take long breaks from it because i need everything i post to pass this invisible and poorly defined bar in my mind of "will somebody have such a problem with this that they'll feel like they need to send me self harm photos over it." it changed my relationship to art forever. it turned me into an unbearable perfectionist who barely finishes anything. it damaged my ability to trust people. it really changed my life for years in just a matter of weeks.

i hadn't even heard of kiwi farms before this happened... i started visiting the site more regularly and grew a sort of fascination with them. i'm particularly interested in this contradictory place they hold in people's minds as an authority on truth and a hub of degeneracy. thinking especially of callouts that get reposted with sources from kiwi farms; how many times have you seen the line "yes, i know it's kiwi farms (ew) but the information is solid!"

like even if individual screenshots are undoctored and posted with full context (lol) i have rarely seen anyone asking whether it's morally questionable to repost personal information without consent, or to refer people back to a website like kiwi farms. even if they don't technically promote harrassment, they still stalk people in order to collect information about them. it's the point of the site. and their surveillance is just as much about punishment for perceived wrongs as it is about entertainment. if a cow is coerced into change after being posted to kiwi farms, that is broadly considered a win by the community.

being posted even briefly did change my life, but i think the biggest change was in my own thinking. for me it was an early insight into the dangers of surveillance and callout culture. even if i wasn't being "called out" for "problematic" behavior, it wasn't hard to make the connection between my experience and the experiences of people who are routinely harassed and targeted for kinks or privately held beliefs or for making jokes years in the past that reflect views they obviously no longer hold. also not hard to see how this appetite for entertainment at the expense of others could be easily co-opted (say by corporations or the government) in order to seed distrust in communities and promote narratives that align with the interests of capital!

anyway when people talk about their concerns of kiwi farms radicalizing its user base i don't think they ever envisioned a kiwi to communist pipeline lol

#didn't mean to write a whole essay #i guess i had more thoughts about it than i realized #txt #m #kiwi farms #00

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donutloverxo · 3 years

Text

Too big to handle

Written for @imdarkinme . Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs and welcome and much appreciated. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+. Please🙏🙏

Summary - Steve's cock is too big for your pussy.

Warnings - smut(m/f), daddy kink, maybe ddlg but not really, readers a bit naive, size kink, praise kink, cum play.

Pairing - Steve x reader Word count - 1.4k

"Hm..." you sighed dreamily, in awe of just how amazingly the jeans you got your daddy for valentines suits him. He looked hot even while he was doing the dishes.

He looks over his shoulder to you, his eyebrows pinched together but then smiles upon seeing you openly oggling him, "Like what you see, doll?"

"Um, what? I wasn't doing anything!!" you yelled when you realised you had been caught red handed.

"Relax, honey," he teased, booping your nose with his finger, "If you want something, all you have to do is ask for it."

"Um... I do want something..."

"Uh-huh, and what is that," he said, crossing his hands over his chest, the veins in his biceps popping which made you salivate even more so.

"I thought..." you looked up at him with your sweet doe eyes, jutting your lips out and making a face he would never say no to, "maybe we could go all the way? I know you would've liked to wait, being from the forties and all, but I don't think I have it in me to..."

He cleared his throat, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he stammered over his words, "Is that what you want?"

"If you'd like to as well then yes."

"Believe me, doll, there is nothing in this world I'd like more," he groaned. "I didn't ask because I didn't want you to think that it was the only thing I was after."

"I'd never think that, daddy, I know you love me," standing on your tippy toes, and craning your neck, and yet you still couldn't quite reach him because he was just so freaking tall, he smirked at you and met you halfway to peck your lips.

"Of course I do, and don't you ever forget that."

"Can we get the lights?" you asked, just a bit apprehensive, as he kissed you all over your bare thighs.

"Why?" he wanted to know as he propped his chin up on your thigh.

"I..." You didn't have a good enough answer. You had seen him once while he was changing out of his combat suit after he got shot, you knew what a perfect specimen he was, you on the other hand were anything but perfect. "I don't know... it's just that'll make me more comfortable."

"You know I'd do anything to make you comfortable right, doll?" he asked as you nodded. "And I don't mind getting the lights. But I want to see you, all of you, I want to look into your eyes while I make love to you and make you mine."

"That's silly, daddy," you giggled, "I'm already yours."

"That you are," he repeated as he sucked a spot into the inside of your thigh, a bit too close to your panty clad core.

"Mm.. okay... I trust you..." And you'd do anything to make him happy.

"You have no idea how much that means to me, doll," he rolled your panties down your thighs and your legs.

The way he stared at your core would've made you just a little uncomfortable if he wasn't saying the sweet things to you while his fingers toyed with your intimate lips.

"You have such a pretty pussy, baby. I could look at it all day long. Would you let me draw it?" he looked up at you, tearing his eyes away from your gorgeous cunt so he could get an answer from you.

"Yes, of course..." you moaned, clenching around him as he added two more fingers, massaging your walls and pumping them in and out of you.

He hovered over you, "Your pussy looks so tiny, baby, it's so fucking tight, I don't know if I'll last, I gotta prepare you."

You couldn't believe you even thought of keeping the lights off, to miss out on looking at the way Steve looked at you, as if you were the most precious thing in the.

You also would've missed out on seeing his perfect pecs, your hands moving of their own accord to touch his flesh, pink nipples pebbling under your palm.

You dug your nails into his biceps, drawing out blood as you could feel your climax approaching but you held on, you only wanted to come around him, "Will you please put it in me, daddy?" you blinked up at him.

"Alright, honey, I think you're ready," he said as he pulled his fingers out of you, sitting back on his thighs he pushed your knees apart so he could look at you some more, you were swollen and looked about ready for him, two of his fingers parting your vaginal lips so he could admire your arousal seeping out of you, "Fucking perfect."

You could feel your face heating up at his praise, watching him through your hooded eyes and waiting for him to penetrate you and claim you, until that caught your eye.

"Holy shit!" your eyes nearly popping out of their sockets upon seeing what looked like was his monster cock. "How is that so big?!" you yelled.

"What?" he looked down at his cock, standing tall and proud against his abs.

"Steve, I've seen you naked... once... I didn't mean to, but I couldn't look away either..." you tried to explain, getting more and more flustered, "And that," pointing at his cock, "wasn't nearly as big as it looks now."

"Alright, so sweetheart, when a man sees the person he loves naked his manhood grows bigger and..."

"Steve! Oh my god I knew that! But I didn't know that could, literally double in size..."

"Uh... yeah. Mine does, ever since the serum."

You nodded. Before you thought he was big, bigger than anyone you had ever seen, but now... you weren't sure you could even wrap your hand around him.

"Do you want to stop?"

You shook your head, "No, I wanna keep going. I'll fit it in me no matter what, I promise."

He nodded, pushing his tip against your opening, paying close attention to your face to make sure you were okay, but you told him to keep going. He lost track of you, of everything around him, you were so damn tight and so good around him and under him, he stopped when he heard you sobbing.

"No... babygirl," he cooed hovering over you again and propping himself up on his elbows he kissed your tears away.

"It's too big..." you sniffled, ashamed of not doing literally the only thing you were supposed to do.

"That's okay, honey. I'll just stop," he said as he pulled out of you.

He looked down at his cock, which was flushed an angry red, "That looks painful," you rubbed your nose with the back of your hand.

"It is a little... but it'll go away in a bit."

"I want to make you feel good," you whined.

"You make me feel good just by existing. But... I guess there is something you can do..." he smirked, circling his palm around your wrist and bringing your hand closer to his length, "Come on, touch it, don't be so afraid, doll, it's not gonna eat you."

"Mm... okay," you held onto his length, which felt thicker, you could barely wrap your hand around him, you started pumping him in your hand, "Is this okay?" you asked him as you looked up at him.

"More than okay, honey here," he situated his cock right over your pussy, moaning out your name and telling you to keep going as his ejaculate painted your vulva.

You couldn't exactly see it, but you could feel it's warmth on your skin and you were surprised with just how much of it there was. "Can I have a taste please?" You asked after he was done.

His chest was heaving, golden strands kissing his sweaty forehead, "Since you said please," he said, collected some of your slick mixed with his on his fingers and letting you suck on them.

"It's yummy, daddy," you moaned around his digits.

"Don't worry, doll, next time I'll come in your mouth. And you'll be a good girl and swallow all of it."

You nodded, laying back on the mattress and making grabby hands at him to ask him to cuddle you. He only shook his head and chuckled at you.

"You didn't think we were done, did you?" he said as he hoisted your hips up, closer to his mouth, his tongue licking a strip up your slit as he kept looking at you, "I'll have to return the favor."

#steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #donutloverxo writes

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peachdoesfics · 2 years

Text

This was requested by @moongoddessmox, I just accidently deleted the ask whilst trying to format it. Thank you for such an amazing idea!

Not Bean running with an idea and creating a whole ass fic! I'm in a silly goofy mood 🥴

Take Me To Church {BikerAU! Bucky Barnes x Reader}

❗CW❗This fic contains graphic violence, strong language, descriptions of sexual intercourse, and most of all, Domestic Abuse. Do not read this if it offends you, or will trigger you.

Do not replicate, or repost my fics. The only site this fic will be in is Tumblr. If you see it anywhere else, it has been stolen.

You are free to reblog!

All mistakes are my own.

Translations are at the bottom of the post.

The title was obviously inspired partly by this song, but also MC culture. I've posted it here just incase you want to listen to it as you read.

Genesis

The desolate bar stood squat and thick, brazen against the thick overgrowth of the unkempt weeds and crawlers that nudged their way sporadically out of the concrete. It was more long than it was tall; the roof barely reaching the top of the telephone poles that towered over the place. The walls were crafted with brick, though over time it had begun to look as if it was pieced together by a toddler. The amount of bricks missing, broken or out of place gave the joint a misshapen look, matching the surrounding area- which was rough.

Large metal bins, overflowing with trash, lay beaten and tossed along the concrete in arbitrary patterns. Splatters of graffiti littered any wall that wasn't already covered, the empty spray cans just being tossed or crushed and left to lay. Flickering streetlights buzzed and hummed over the heads of the street's residents, though only the ones that worked. Most had had their bulbs shattered, the reminants crunching under your feet as you perused your way down the sidewalk, and the smell of stale piss and vomit hung around in the air.

The streetlights were practically drowned out by the sheer amount of neon lights that glowed from the namesign, rendering them useless. The namesake sign, in particular, bathed the cracked pavement below in a deep, dusty carmine red. 'The Old Dog', they called it, yet the sign of course read something different, rather being 'The Hare and The Hound'- but no one ever called it that. Not anymore.

It used to be a respected place, somewhere one would go on a Saturday night, to play pool, watch the football or just for a good drink, a place with never much trouble. That was until the old owner mysteriously disappeared. Some say that he was offered a tidy sum for the place, somewhere in the region of around $300,000, and had gone to live in another state. Others whispered that he was murdered, and the bar was taken up by the killers themselves, the killers in question being none other than 'The Serpent's Redeemers.'

You didn't know much about them. They would never be seen around your area, only if you were incredibly unlucky, or it was in the dead of night, especially as you'd spent the majority of your life living in the sweet, idyllic little centre of town. People like them wouldn't be seen dead there.

You'd grew up being surrounded by the stories of old. Some, you knew to be true, like the tales of the war that your grandfather would recount back to you every single time you visited, or the ones you'd read in the history books, yet there were some that were standing just on the borders between real and downright myth. Those were the ones that were passed around in crowded school playgrounds like trading cards, or whispered by the middle aged mothers whilst they were dressed in their best fineries at church. They were not to be discussed at the dinner table, lest you fell victim to a vicious scolding or the threat of no dessert.

Those were the stories of the outskirters.

You were never allowed down that way, something that had carried on well into your adulthood, yet here you were, hurriedly making your way down the dirty pavements without a single idea of where you were going in the first place. You knew you just had to get away. And fast.

Growing up in a town as small as yours came with its challenges. Despite the tight knit community, the home-grown food that you knew to be organic every single time, and the beautiful rural scenery, there was always something lacking- that being people. There was never much choice, as spending an unhealthy amount of time with every child that you grew up alongside ruined any chance for future relationships. You knew everything about them, and they knew every detail about you, so when a handsome stranger came walking into town from the big city, all eyes were on him.

Yet his eyes were on you.

Of course he didn't hesitate in sweeping you up. Before you knew it you'd moved in together, in a quaint little townhouse that he'd acquired from his seemingly bountiful wealth, and everything ran as smooth as butter. He'd come home from work, and you'd be greeted with wonderful gifts, ranging from ornate, hand made jewellery, to stunningly beautiful silk dresses. There was nothing else to say besides the fact that you were living the dream, and everyone knew about it.

It took about a year for you to begin thinking about engagement. Just having the idea cross your mind was more than enough to cause butterflies to blossom within your stomach. In fact, it wasn't long before you'd let your imagination run wild, and you'd spend your now lonely nights daydreaming about the heaven-like ceremony you'd both share.

You'd thought about asking him yourself after a while, but you were seeing less of him seemingly every week. "Work had become demanding" he'd say as he showed up at the house after two straight days of abandonment. Then, almost as quick as he'd arrived, he'd leave without a trace. The cycle would rinse and repeat itself, each excuse becoming more and more convoluted. "I had to stay in for a meeting, a big business deal might be on the horizon." Your partner would spout next, not forgetting to bring a gift to shower you with as he lovingly reminded you of all you'd been given.

The gifts ended up in a pile. You had no use in opening them if they were going to make you think about him.

One day, however, you'd arrived home from your shopping trip just in time to see the other's car pull around the corner and into the driveway. This was nothing new, he'd probably be using his car for extra packing space for his next trip out to God knows where, so you'd just dawdled down the road like you normally would have, taking in the all too familiar sights before you'd eventually just coop yourself back up inside. When you'd turned the corner not even 10 minutes later, it was safe to say that you were beyond shocked to see that his car was still parked up, relatively untouched.

"Odd." you remembered thinking as, with dull excitement, you'd nudged open the door with your ass (hands being preoccupied), and, as if in a balancing act, wobbled your way over to the kitchen counter, where you'd placed down the bags with a heavy, and relieved sigh. Normally, you would have packed the shopping away, done a little bit of cleaning, and then sat down to relax, but not today. Instead, you'd kicked your shoes off, slipped off your heavy coat, and wandered inquisitively into the lounge.

Only to be greeted to your partner, on the sofa, two glasses of wine in hand.

The newly installed dimmer lights had been set to a soft, sultry low, and the fireplace crackled and spat from it's brick cage. Pleasantly surprised, (albeit slightly peeved that you hadn't made any effort to doll yourself up for an occasion you knew nothing about), you'd cocked your head to the side, crossing your arms.

"What's all this about?" You'd questioned with an actual sense of care, the other patting the seat next to him with his free hand, after having passing over your glass of wine, of course. "In all honesty, Helmut, I'm surprised you even decided to show your face around here."

Zemo hadn't responded negatively, or with anything at all for that matter, rather having opted to spend a few minutes swirling his wine around his polished glass, in which he had then decided to take a long, pursed-lipped sip. You know. Incase he had wanted to drag it out any longer.

In all the time he'd spent faffing about like a prick, you'd drank half of your glass, got up to put the shopping away, stoked the fire and then sat back down. It wasn't until you'd returned, as if you having left the room had hindered his probably magnificent speech, that he'd actually begun to speak.

"Y/N, ангел, I know I've been out a lot over these past few months, for work," he couldn't help but emphasise, having caused you to down the rest of your glass, "..but I've realised.."

"Finally.." you'd thought.

"..that what I've done, though for the best of the company, was wrong. And I am willing to make it all up to you."

"It's been months, Helmut. I haven't seen you for months."

"I know, my liebe..-"

"We're supposed to be dating." you'd put your glass down, just in time for the other to grab onto your hand, holding it in his, which he caressed ever so gently. You'd remembered wanting to pull away, though whether it be to show some form of defiance, or just because you hadn't wanted him touching you, you weren't all that sure. Yet you didn't, and the other just kept running his hand over yours like a super villain would do with his cat.

"I've come back, listen-" you'd taken to staring at the stupidly avant-garde, yet amazingly intricate pattern of the carpet in the time that he'd been talking. With a soft hum, not yet an apology, you'd tore yourself away from the walked on work of art and attempted to pay at least some attention to your lover. "I've come back," Helmut continued, this time evidently firmer, ".. Because I want to show you how sorry I am. In fact, sweetheart, I've set up a little surprise for you."

"A surprise?"

"I knew that would get your attention, yes, a surprise. Now it's going to have to be next week-"

You'd audibly groaned. "Next week? So you mean to tell me you'll be out again?"

"Unfortunately so, дорогая."But please, give me time to finish everything up and then, I promise, you'll be seeing a lot more of me."

After all that, you'd reluctantly agreed, though it wasn't as if you really had a choice. In some ways, you did, but if you even dared to show any sense of resistance to the idea, Zemo would immediately resort to some grand 'song and dance' about how much he'd changed, and how much he'd sacrificed for you..

The venue he'd booked was beautiful. It was small, discreet but incredibly gorgeous. You'd traveled by private car, something Helmut had set up for you himself, and even had you personally chauffeured directly into the venue, no walking needed.

Yet, after all this, you still didn't know what the surprise was.

It was relatively early by the time you'd arrived, evident as the sun was beating over the morning dew drops that nestled on the garden's millions of flower petals, and the beams of light that shone through the bay windows, casting an almost heavenly glow onto the ornate tiled floors, yet you were all alone in the towering architecture. He hadn't shown up, at least not yet. But since your arrival, it had been over an hour. At first you'd thought that he had been caught up in work, yet again, something he was always quick to use as an excuse, or maybe he had been sorting out the last few details of this little surprise.

You weren't sure, but another half hour of exploration wouldn't hurt.

So, without further ado, you'd resumed your currently awe-filled trek through the relatively small hall. Despite the fact that it was quite, well, small, it was far from cramped. Most of the space was actually taken up by a collection of back rooms, most of them locked, or barred from entry. You figured they were most likely for staff, or, if applicable, a kitchen.

Eventually, all you had left to explore was one turn of a winding hallway. With a quick check of your phone, seeing that yet another hour had passed (time flies when you're having fun), you'd let out a sharp breath through your teeth, and ran your fingers through your hair, pushing it off of your forehead. One more hallway and then you'll probably end up going home.

Suddenly, and seemingly out of nowhere, you'd heard a low, animalistic grunting sound. It was crisp, yet muffled, and sounded as if it was coming from down the hall.

"Hello?" You'd called out at first, craning your neck to further try to make out just what the hell was going on. At the far end of the corridor a door stood, ever so slightly cracked open, and within, a set of shadows jerked and shook, amalgamated within each other like a sick experiment. You'd received nothing in response, the grunting only getting louder as you crept down the hall, now intertwined with the sound of a woman's voice that croaked and moaned.

"Ew, come on guys, you know you can't do that. I'm pretty sure this place is rented out." You'd called out, resting your hand on the door. The other hand had slipped your phone out of your pocket, ready to call emergency services if necessary. After all, what was going on in there didn't sound like what you thought it did at first. Now it sounded like someone was mid fit. Upon hearing no response, and your curiosity getting the better of you, you swallowed your pride and pushed open the heavy wooden door.

As expected, it was just two weirdos having sex. You'd covered your eyes with a groan, but the image had already been burned into your brain. One, presumably a woman judging by her long, messy hair was sitting atop a mahogany, probably antique desk, her legs hooked around the other's waist, her underwear down at her ankles. The aforementioned other person, a man, sporting a rounded face, dark, short hair, and a weirdly familiar five o'clock shadow had a tight hold of her, and judging by his very suggestive moments, had entered her. The rest, well.. the sound was enough for you to realise what was going on.

"..Fuck, ah-" You'd heard the male hiss, followed by the sound of rustling, and hurried bumps and bangs. Your brows furrowed from behind your hands, and your breath had hitched in your throat as you removed your hand from your eyes slowly.

It couldn't be.

"..Helmut..?"

Zemo had practically jolted out of his skin, something the normally calm and collected male would never be seen doing. He'd pulled away from the other woman, almost pushing her away, and as he'd hurriedly zipped up his trousers to greet you, all you could do was turn your head away with a gentle cry. The woman had sat there, dumbfounded, and, as if you'd care about the way she looked, she'd attempted to fix her hair with her hands, and wiped away the lipstick that had been smeared across her face. You'd peered at her as she fixed herself up, and had let out a pained whine.

Sat, on the woman's finger, was a ring. The box laid on the floor at your feet.

You'd spent all of three minutes trying to convince yourself that what you were seeing wasn't real, and that in some odd, completely idiotic way, everything you saw was just an amalgamation of tiredness, a lack of a double take, and the fact that maybe you were the one looking for a problem. But now, you knew all you could do was run.

Spinning, and with sheer ferociousness, flinging open the door, you'd set off in a run down the hallway, the sounds of two sets of footsteps echoing in the, now that you thought back to it, excellent acoustics of the hall. You wondered why you couldn't hear them fucking louder.

"Wait, Y/N-"

"Leave me alone, I don't want to talk to you!"

"Baby, please-" Zemo had returned quietly, as if he were trying to keep it under wraps, and grabbed onto your wrist. You'd spun on your heel, eyes blazing.

"No. Don't you 'Baby' me." You'd spat. "I'm pretty sure you still have somewhere to be, no? Last time I checked, you'd barely reached a fucking orgasm."

"It isn't what it looks like. I was tempted, I don't know her. The whole time, all I could think about was you, Y/N, please-"

"You're a fucking liar. Is this what you've been doing this whole time?" You'd cried. "Getting your fucking dick wet whilst I've been at home, worried about your stupid ass?"

"I told you.." He'd hushed you with a calming hand, yet you'd yanked yourself away, seething. You could barely hold in your tears, muscles tensed and jaw clenched. ".. It's not what it looks like. That girl, she means nothing to me, nothing..-"

"She was wearing your fucking ring!" You spluttered, cheeks blaring red. Not explicitly wanting to say that the huge, rock filled ring was going to be for you, as it felt wrong even just letting the words sit on your tongue, you shook your head like a dog would shake off it's fur, trying to get the thoughts out of your head. Seeing him, your partner, fucking another woman.. No. This was a nightmare. "What the fuck is wrong with you!?"

"Please, stop shouting. Let me explain-"

You wouldn't let him finish. Zemo swallowed back an irritated groan, but couldn't help but look away with a sigh.

"Let you explain what, Helmut? The fact that you're going around fucking who you want to?" Yelling in the others face caused the other to narrow his eyes and hurriedly pull you into a corner. His eyes darted around as if he were paranoid, as if a reporter were about to jump though the window and journal the whole thing. "You have nothing to explain. You're a fucking prick."

You'd stumbled forward as he'd pulled you into a corner, pulling a face, and almost slapped his hand away as he'd attempted to quieten you down. Zemo let out a long breath through his nose, and combed a hand through his matted hair. You'd clenched your jaw.

He stank.

"I know what I did was wrong, I realise that now, but if we talk it needs to be at home."

Your disgusted expression had turned into one of upmost bitterness as your upper lip had lifted into a snarl. "I see how it is." You'd muttered, tapping your foot. You felt as if you just hit a goldmine. "You don't want your infidelity to get out, is that right, baby?"

Squinting at you suspiciously, Zemo's arms crossed over themselves. "You could say that. I want my.." Haltering hesitatingly, it was obvious to anyone that he didn't want to seem to own up to his own mistakes, the word "infidelity" catching in his throat. "...My mistake to be kept between us."

"Us? You mean You and I and that slut in the back room?"

"She's not a..- just between us."

Your lips had pulled into a thin line as your eyes darkened, and you'd popped your lips together arhythmically. Taking the only few steps between the both of you, having been so close that you had felt the other's warm breath on your face, you'd shook your head with a voiceless, breathy chuckle. "No. I think that everyone would love to know just how much of a fucking pig you are." And with a single movement, you flicked your phone between your fingers, raising it up to his eye level. "Our little conversation has been recording this whole time. I have all the evidence I need."

Zemo's eyes had clouded. One thing you knew about the other from experience that he was never one to air dirty laundry. He had always been a quiet man, sometimes far too quiet for his own good. That time, he had been too calm, too.. unbothered. You couldn't help but shudder.

"I suggest you give that to me, Liebling." Zemo's voice had drawled, something you recalled sounding deathly dangerous, and he'd held out a simple, empty hand. "Now."

You'd laughed, yet the carefree grip you had on your phone had tightened tenfold, and you'd shook your head again, this time incredulously. "You really think you're some big shot, don't you? No, Helmut. I'm not giving you the phone."

"Hm." was all he had responded. You'd swallowed thickly as you'd watched Zemo nod thinly. "If that's what you want."

Smack.

You'd stumbled back as Zemo had shook his hand off, blinking away the pained tears that had begun to form again. You had been too dazed to respond to the other, who, as quick as he had attacked, had wrestled the phone out of your hands and threw it to the floor. Then, without a seconds hesitation, had grabbed a hold of your arm and had begun to drag you down the hall.

"Wait- what the fuck-" You'd stammered, resisting the best you could as Zemo wrestled you down the hall. For someone with such an outwardly gentle demeanour, he sure had a heavy hand, the print that now blossomed on your face the colour of cherryade.

"You should not have defied me, Y/N." He'd hushed, voice laced with cyanide. You could smell it on his breath. The grip on your arm tightened as you had attempted to claw and scratch, but to no avail. What was once a perk, not having to walk far into the venue, now became a curse, as it wasn't long before you'd both reached the still parked car, and without any effort, Zemo had shoved you aggressively into the car, to which he had slammed the door behind you. You'd turned to protest, but he'd already strode back into the building- and you didn't see him for another ten minutes or so; by then you had grown tired. Pulling on the door handles and kicking at the windows had tuckered you out.

When he returned, he had collected all of his belongings. The ring had been taken from the woman, and Zemo, after storming back in, had thrown a wad of cash to her before grabbing his things and leaving. Sliding into the car, the now stone faced male did not meet your eye. He had instead reached into his pocket, and with no words, dropped the shattered remains of your phone into your lap.

"You will learn to listen to me. All in good time."

Since that very moment, your life had become hell. The house, once a Palace, had contorted itself into an inescapable tower, your only escape being the few hours that Helmut would not be home. When he did eventually return, you'd listen out for his footsteps with fear, tuning into it like a wartime radio. Each footstep would be heavily analyzed, the result predicting his current mood.

A bad mood was a death sentence.

Having originally started out with nothing but name calling, you were only minorly affected. Most things he said would fly in one ear and out the next, but it only took a few weeks for him to resort to... harsher methods. You'd noticed the change after he'd come into the house smelling of sex and booze, the scent sticking to his pale, sweaty skin. You'd taste it on his lips as he'd greet you with harsh, unwanted kisses, and it would latch onto the hair that he'd pull and the face that he'd slap. He'd whisper sweet nothings into one ear, whilst in the other he'd croon out threats.

"If you tell anyone about this, I'll kill you."

You'd forgotten just how large his hands were until he'd beat you with them.

Yet, like salt in the wound, only you knew just how much of a rotten pig he was. You'd see him on the television from time to time, looking positively angelic as he chatted nonchalantly to a newswoman, or as his photos would show up in the magazines with his new arm candy.

No one cared about you.

He was a success in the streets, a marvel, a saving grace to hospital patients and sick children, an angel. But at home, he was a sick, twisted sociopath.

In his home, he was God.

Now, it all lead back to this. You'd grown sick and tired of his games, his mind control. So, in the dead of night, in the harsh winter, you'd slipped out of bed as quietly as a mouse and, unable to pack due to just how quiet you had to be, you took the money you'd been saving up and left. No note, no nothing. The only thing he was left with in the end was an empty bed.

You walked down the cold street, shivering as you wrapped your arms around your shuddering body. Barely having time to grab a coat, you'd instead opted for a hoodie, which you since regretted. It did nothing to keep out the harsh cold, the wind blowing right through you, and chilling you to the core. Leaves swirled and smacked against your shoes, the mid winter chill casting a thin layer of frost against every surface, some of the leaves stuck to the floor as if with glue. They still crunched and cracked under your heavy, hurried steps. You knew you had to keep your wits about you here.

Suddenly, something glimmered in front of you, the reflection bouncing off of the nearest street lamp. Thinking it was just a reflection of the pulsing neon lights that eminated from the bar (despite it now being behind you), you thought nothing of it, and continued walking. Then, the sound paper rustling, the clattering of a spray can, the familiar noise of the shaker still jolting you a little bit. Still, there was nothing to afraid of, you tried to convince yourself, but you couldn't stop the collection of ghostly voices from echoing inside your head.

'People that have gone down to the outskirts have never returned.. either that, or they show up inside a body bag.'

"No, No." You muttered to yourself, running a hand through your hair. "Nothing is going to happen. It's just a street, you idiot. What's the worst that could happen?"

"You.. Uh.. Miss!" A voice croaked, the corresponding figure huched over on the side of the road. A trail of spit dribbled out from between his chapped lips, landing in a tiny puddle on the floor. This didn't seem like any old drunkard. From closer inspection, though at at least an arms length, you peered over at the man. "Hey, Hey.. I'm here. Are you alright? Can you tell me what happened?"

He lifted his head. You let out a short, horrified gasp upon the pained realisation that he was just a boy, only somewhere between seventeen to eighteen years old. Reaching your arm out, you rested your fingers on the young man's shoulder. "What are you doing out here all alone? You have somewhere to go?"

His chocolatety, hazelnut mop of hair lifted, revealing the young man's face, which was stained with tears. His eyes were irritated and red, one of them sporting a particularly garish bruise, a deep purple in colour. Crouching down in a bid to look less intimidating (as if you looked intimating in the first place), your eyes softened as his irises met yours. "You can trust me." You coaxed. "Now, what's your name-"

All of a sudden, you felt a sharp pain in your chest.

"Ah- what-" You yelled out, tumbling to the floor, and landing right on your knees with a distressed cry. The young man, once weak looking and unimposing, practically harmless, now stood over you. His foot lifted, landing with a harsh kick to your back, pushing you over. "I.. ah- p-please.." you yelped.

"S-Shut up!" He cried, the knife glinting under a flickering street lamp. It sat, tightly gripped within his curled fingers, set on a quivering hand. Yet, his tightly knitted brows painted a whole different picture. They gave him a much older demeanour, one of danger, and fear. You recoiled as the knife's glare glinted across your face. "Give me everything you've got." He ordered, though it didn't sound as assertive as you expected.

"Please, I don't have much..-"

"That's not my problem, bit-" He swallowed back his harsh words, almost as if they made him sick to his stomach. "..Bitch!"

"It's all I've got. I can't.." Your hands slipped into your pocket, clasping tightly around the purse like a vice. "Please. I.. I can give you anything else, I can.. I.."

You didn't have anything else. Your pleads were useless to the male, who, after a while, grew tired of your whines. With bared teeth, he shoved the knife towards you and, with one heavy foot pressing down on your chest, leant forward and took a hold of your hoodie.

"No.. No-!" You screamed in sheer desperation as, with the knife held barely a few inches from your face, he rooted inside your pocket and grabbed the thick set, leather purse. You watched him as his eyes flicked over the purse, irises set with a strange look. Was that.. Relief?

"Anything else?" Jerking the blade, he did not lift his foot, yet his other hand stashed the purse away into his kutte pocket. His eyes widened in desperation, pupils dilated. "C-Come on!" He stammered, voice breaking as he struggled to watch you wheeze and writhe underneath him. "I don't have all night!"

"Hey, you." A voice called out as the door swung open with a hefty creak, and the sound of footsteps hammering against the floor. You raised your head from the rugged concrete, vision blurring and mixing within eachother, and you blinked rapidly in an attempt to clear it up. Instinctively, however, you wrapped your arms around yourself in an attempt to protect yourself even further, though it wasn't as if it would do anything.

"Hey!" The unknown man barked this time as his booted feet came to a sudden stop, and, to your surprise, he yanked the younger, skinnier man away by his jacket collar, who stumbled back, and irritated yet terrified look littering his face.

"O-Oh, Barnes, Sir, I didn't-"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Parker?" Barnes questioned gruffly. From where you were, you couldn't see exactly what he looked like, but could make out his large stature, and his fingerless, gloved, clenched fists, one of which was shoved into his pocket, the other wrapped around the collar of Parker's Jacket.

"I, I was following orders, Sir. I made a mistake, costing the club money. Rogers told me I should-"

"Fuckin' Rogers.." Barnes muttered, sucking his tooth. He let go of the visibly younger male, who straightened himself out almost immediately. Just from context clues, you'd already figured out that this Barnes guy was also a member of the Redeemers-if not a member of a higher rank, judging by the way the boy known as simply 'Parker' had addressed him.

'Now I'm in for it.' you thought to yourself, watching as the semi-faceless Barnes turned to Parker with a steely eyed glare.

"Either way, you know we don't do that 'round here." He scolded with a tongue of fire, the tone of his voice meaning a lot more than his words. "Now scram, Peter. I'll deal with you later."

"Yes, sir." Peter stammered, and, as quick as a flash, had began to run back into the building. Barnes didn't watch him, but just from the sound of his echoing footsteps and the door emitting it's trademark squeak, he knew that the other had left. Sticking his hands in his pocket, Barnes peered down at you with dark, overshadowed eyes. You saw his tongue flick between his teeth, and he tapped the toe of his boot on the concrete.

"You can get up now, y'know."

Now that he was speaking directly to you, your eyes flicked up to meet his, to which the other looked away with a grunt. You didn't get up, wincing as your knees stung. It wasn't anything too bad; you'd been dealt with worse at Helmut's hand. In comparison, this was nothing. Nevertheless, and dejectly, the towering shadow man held out a rough hand. "I said, you can get up n-"

"I heard what you said- I, uh.. thank you." Stammering out the words upon realising you'd just interrupted him, your hand raised to hold onto the others, his cold, calloused fingertips grating against yours. With minimal effort, Barnes pulled you onto your feet, then stepped back as you dusted yourself off, wobbling like a new-born deer. "Thank you, um.. Barnes, is it?"

With their hands back into their pockets, Barnes' head bobbed, but it was so still that you had to concentrate in order to detect any movement. "Hm. It was nothin'. Think nothin' of it." He spoke dismissively, then, to your unsurprise, spat out a glob of phlegm at his feet. You wrinkled your nose, to which Barnes just huffed out a rush of air, sort of like a laugh.

"He take anything?" Barnes muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he looked you up and down, an air of suppressed worry in his eyes, which didn't leave as the other stopped, fished in his pockets for a packet of cigarettes, and slipped a singular one between his teeth. It took a while for the other to light it, the cheap, transparent Zippo lighter barely sparking as he attempted to get it to catch. Though, after a few smacks of the lighter to the heel of his palm, a shake, and a round of "Come ons.." and the odd "Fuck you, you stupid plastic piece of shit!", Barnes had successfully bullied the lighter into working, and as it cast its flame onto the carciogenic, it lit up a little more of his features. You could now see the colour of his eyes, which were a dark hazel, hidden under his heavy brow.

You tapped the foot of your shoe at the ground, unable to look at him for more than a few seconds at a time, just incase he caught your gaze again. "A purse..- uh, my purse, specifically."

"Right." The subdued, crackling noise disrupted his speech as he took a lengthened drag on his cigarette, shoving the lighter back into his kutte pocket. "I'll get that back for you. Give me a minute." A ghostly trail of exhaled smoke floated out from behind him as he left, which ended at the bar doors. In the time that Barnes spent inside, you'd taken to attempting to pick the various stones and pieces of concrete out of your knees. A painful ordeal.

The familiar crackling noise signified Barnes' return not a moment later, as he had stated, and he returned to you, wallet in hand. "Sorry about Parker." He muttered. It looked as if apologising was a novel concept to him, as it seemed restrained and almost embarrassing to say. You, of course, shook your head, taking your purse out of his large hand. It's weight hadn't changed as you'd expected it to. Barnes must have gotten every last note back.

"It's alright." You fiddled with the latch on the leather purse for a few moments before slipping it into your hoodie pocket, though with a tight grip on it this time. "Peter seems like a good kid."

"Hm." was all the other responded yet again, something you had picked up on. It seemed as if he was a man of few words, his body language doing a lot of the speaking for him, though he didn't seem shy. Barnes took a long, around five second intake of smoke, before dropping the cigarette at his feet, grinding it into the concrete with the toe of his boot. You noted that as he lifted his foot, the cigarette had practically disintegrated. He seemed to be a lot more comfortable after his return, the dull street lamp casting a gentle glow over his face as he stepped closer. It was rugged, which wasn't a surprise, his chiseled jawline resembling one of a hand-carved statues, which paired well with his irregular stubble. It looked as if he hadn't shaved for the last three or so weeks. His hazel irises looked you up and down, and his jaw seemed to clench. "Did he hit you?" He asked, his other facial features not showing any other emotion, but his voice seemed to cloud itself in a hint of annoyance.

"...H-Hm?" You jolted, a pit falling in your stomach. It was obvious, judging by the marks littering your face and body that you'd been roughed around, but whether he meant by Peter or your partner you weren't sure, yet you hoped he wasn't asking about Zemo. At second thought, you wondered how he would even know about your partner. Maybe you were just being paranoid. "I.. um..-"

Barnes furrowed his brows, the various wounds on your face, both old and new, making a lot more sense. "...Im asking about Peter. Did Peter hit you?"

You found yourself in a catch twenty-two. By telling the truth, would Peter be punished for roughing you up during the mugging? Your bruises may be severe, but the ones you received in the mugging were nothing compared to what you'd been subjected to with Zemo. On the other hand, you couldn't just admit to the fact that you were running away from an abusive relationship with such a well known man. Sure, maybe Barnes wouldn't give a shit, he was probably only asking on the basis of a member of his own gang, but you couldn't risk it.

Zemo's threats echoed inside your head.

'I'll kill you if you tell anyone.'

You were afraid he'd send you back home.

"..He pushed me over." You lied, eyes flicking down to your feet in a fit of habit. The other squinted at you, resting his hands in his back pockets. You held your breath, sweat prickling on the back of your neck. You felt as if you were stuck under a floodlight. All eyes were on you, and yet it felt like hours before Barnes finally spoke again.

"...Well. That's all I wanted to know." He shrugged, though didn't take his eyes off of you. His scrutinising gaze bore holes into you, like burning hot lasers, and eventually, it became too much to deal with, so you turned your face away, shielding yourself from the light. Barnes sucked on his tooth again, peering over his shoulder at the bar. "Well, I guess I should get going. You leaving the city?"

"..I'm going to visit a friend out of town. This place isn't that familiar to me."

Barnes cocked a brow, glancing up at the stars that littered the pitch black sky. 'This late?' He thought, and although he didn't say anything, he still cocked his head to the side ever so slightly. You attempted to suppress your shivers, still staring at the floor. "Well, you should hop along quick." He began, a cheeky grin plastered on his face. "Someone like you should be careful. I'm sure you've been told all the stories about us scary criminals."

You snorted, rolling your eyes. "Sure I have, but from up close you're nothing more than a man."

Barnes poked the tip of his tongue out between his almost perfect teeth, and shifted his weight onto one foot. "Fiesty one, ain'tcha'?"

"You could say that."

"Well, that's my cue." Barnes suddenly muttered, the sounds of a bar fight breaking out echoing behind him, though he didn't seem all that bothered, until he heard a cacophony of glasses shattering and the sound of yells. Probably figuring it was yet another Prospect receiving another beating, or this time Peter, receiving his punishment from an angry Rogers, Barnes turned, tutting, and stepped onto the sidewalk with a roll of his eyes. "I'll be seein' ya'." He spoke, lazily raising a hand behind him.

You nodded, which he didn't see, and turned to face the long, tree lined road. As you stared down, you could see that as far as the road went, it got darker and darker. You couldn't see the end. 'I suppose I better get going.' You internally monologued, and, wrapping your arms around yourself, you started your slow decent into the murky, black night.

Barnes, enveloped by the pulsing neon lights, turned to look at you as his hand rested on the door. His irises trailed your path for a few moments, the deafeningly loud music causing him to wince a bit. He couldn't think, but he knew he had to do something. Places like this were not somewhere to be taken lightly. Someone like you, someone of your state.. They'd be eaten up in minutes.

Rather begrudgingly, Barnes stepped out off of the sidewalk with a long, tired sigh. "Hey! " He called out, hands curled around his mouth in an effort to amplify the sound; you turned, Barnes' now indecipherable figure beckoning you over with a single hand. "You can bunk here for a night or two. Get yourself warm, you'll freeze to death out there!"

"..Are you sure?" You questioned, shocked that the other would suggest such a thing. It seemed to be something that was so out of character for him, as he'd spent all this time seeming unbothered. Yet, you were grateful.

"If I didn't want you to bunk, I wouldn't ask you." Barnes responded gruffly. Waiting for you to walk back over, which you did rather hastily, he made his way into the raised sidewalk and once again rested his hand on the door. The yelling that once blared out from inside the bar was now nothing more than a gaggle of laughter and jeers, something Barnes had become pretty accustomed to. He just hoped that Peter hadn't gotten too fucked up.

"Now. When we go in, I want you to stay close. Don't look at anyone, don't talk to anyone. Most of all," He ordered, making sure you were listening. "Do not listen to what anyone is saying. Ready?"

Arms wrapping around yourself, you nodded silently.

"Ready."

Translations:

ангел: Angel

дорогая: Sweetheart

Liebe: Love

Liebling: Sweetheart

Kutte: A Biker's leather jacket. Also more commonly known as a 'Cut-off'.

#dark!bucky barnes #biker!bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #helmut zemo #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fic #Peter parker #mcu au #Megalovania was playing in my headphones when I was writing the Peter encounter #All I could think of was sans #Help #Request #fic request #bucky au #Winter soldier #Spotify #dark!bucky x reader

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