#its literally my first draft

[wierdshenanigans]

IDK man just a marauders prank I've had in my drafts for too long

THWACK

"Remus!" James shouted mid-laugh as the snowball hit Sirius's back.

The snow had come early that year at Hogwarts and four second-years decided it would be a good idea to wake up early on a sunday morning because of that.

"All I did was ask you to help me with the snowman here, Rem." Sirius frowned, brushing off the snow.

"Fuck off." He replied, still sleepy, "I wish I could just lie down and get some damn sleep."

"This was your idea, mate." Pete reminded, shaping a snowball for the head.

It turned out Pete was the best at making snowmen. Sirius gave up and laid down in the snow after his first attempt went awry, and Remus joined him soon after.

"Come on, you're both a bunch of bores." James tried to drag them back in, but neither would budge.

"We're the ones casting the enchantment anyway. Unless you want a mound of snow throwing around another mound of snow, let me be." Sirius said, still lying down as James tried to lift up his head.

"Why do we have to make so many? Can't we just make one and take a nap?" Lupin asked sleepily.

"Don't fall asleep here!" James yelped.

Professor McGonagall walked by and frowned as she saw the troublemakers yelling and laughing in the courtyard. It was common for students to play in the snow but something about these four made her skeptical.

Her attention was, however, captured by a group of sixth-year boys getting a wee bit too aggressive in their snowball fight not far from her.

She sighed as she turned towards them to break up the fight, she was just here for a stroll.

--

"There! There, look! A couple of students are walking nearby!" Sirius excitedly pointed.

"Don't point! They'll notice!" James reprimanded. They weren't far from the place the four of them were 'hanging out', they'd notice something was wrong.

"Are you sure the enchantments worked? Even some fifth-years can't cast them..." Pete turned to Lupin and Black.

"I'm sure, Peter. They'll work." Remus assured, leaning forward in anticipation.

The students were a bunch around their age. They were all laughing and chatting as they walked. The marauders held their breathe as they walked near the snowmen.

Three. Two. One.

THWACK!

The four cheered quietly as the snowmen picked up snowballs and meticulously aimed for the kids.

The students all scattered in shock at the sight. The snowmen threw snowballs until the kids were out of reach and then went back to being normal, not-alive snowmen.

"We did it. We're geniuses." Remus whispered.

They had successfully enchanted the snowmen to throw snowballs at others.

The rest of the day was spent in glee, watching Snivellus get piled was a highlight, so was watching a certain black-haired boy in Slytherin too. Sirius laughed but brought the first-year to safety and apologized.

"Mr. Black, Mr. Potter, Mr. Lupin and Mr. Pettigrew. I have received a complaint from multiple students that snowmen in the school courtyard were attacking students. I believe I saw you four making said snowmen?" A firm voice came from behind them.

"Good morning to you too, Professor" James said weakly.

She stared at them, with just a fraction of a smile lining her face for a millionth of a second. "Magic is not allowed outside of classes for second-years, I believe you are all well aware of that?"

#sirius black #harry potter #marauders #hp #sirius orion black #hp marauders #remus lupin #james potter #peter pettigrew #marauders fanfiction #hp marauders era #hp fandom #harry potter marauders #harry potter fanfiction #marauders era #the marauders #the marauders era #marauders fic #its a bit cringe because i kinda gave up and procrastinated writing it #its literally my first draft #idgaf like it or dont i dont like it much either fam #padfoot #moony #james & peter & remus & sirius #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #wormtaiil #remus john lupin #wormtail #prongs #james fleamont potter

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

i... wrote a smol fic (っ´▽`*)っ

also!!!!! If you haven't seen it - shoutout to first ever published fic in Ninja Showdown/My Immortal Soul tags - Lustrous Red by @missadmyre !!!

#ninja showdown #my immortal soul #first ninja x chase young #rc9gn first ninja #first ninja #rc9gn #chase young #xiaolin showdown #randy cunningham 9th grade ninja #rc9gn plop plop #well i say smol fic.... but those 4k words felt very long. #i did say i was going to direct my energy into writing >.> and now look at me ive gone insane #no actually dont look at me im just gonna go cry over my 20k words of rough drafts for like dozen ideas that are now going #to haunt my every waking moment like JESUS i woke up today and literally wrote out 1k words of an idea for a modern au for those two TToTT #its literally an au where its a meet cute turned meet violent and first is randy's sorta dad and chase wants to adopt omi #not to mention a different AU where its an epic mystery adventure AAAAAAA someone heeeelppppp meeeee #also. its been a month but im still staring so intently at missadmyre's fic hoping for another crumb. like thank you sm for the food!!!! #ive literally been rereading it several times after i went insane about it on my main blog and im still slurping at it like a starved perso #Ive been collecting my ideas like a dragon but after reading that fic i was like: I WANT TO READ MORE FICS ABOUT THEM #but i dont wanna be a whiny baby&beg others and be annoying about it. So i put on my big person pants and was like f it WE R WRITINg NOW #so i dont care how bad my writing will be. we gonna be balling on those ideas and YES it doesnt make sense im just v rambly rn

[glass-oranges]

Hiiii I made a core picrew if u wanna check that out I think that would be super cool <3

#i spent way longer than i thought i would on this #turns out making your picrew lineless brings up a lot more problems than you'd think #i am open to suggestions on this btw!!! if u make anything with this i would love to see it if u want also : ) #the color palette may be a bit wack bc its my first time making something like this but!! it was fun!! #its been in my drafts for a few months and then suddenly motivation showed up at my door and i finished the rest of it in two days #thanks adhd very cool can you do this for my school work instead actually please (I'm literally procrastinating while writing this) #<- (its not happening) #portal #portal 2 #picrew #im gonna finally let myself make a self reblog sometime later #i should probably reblog this onto my reblog account maybe #can u tell i really want people to see it bc im very happy with the result :3!!!!!

[mishy-mashy]

En was killed by being cut in half by AFO. It wasn't that he couldn't handle OFA, but that AFO just decided to nuke him

All Might says using One For All with an untrained body would make your limbs fly off. But

This isn't his limbs? Yes, that's his arm, but that's HALF OF HIS BODY

Yes, there's also the argument he could've used it on his whole body and that's the consequence but there is a small cut on his thumb. It matches the line in which he was cut in half, and blood spurts from his hand.

The translation hides it, but his thumb got cut too from the slice. His thumb wasn't the focus, but still got hit. It at least shows when En passes on OFA to Nana

Since Banjo's arms got wrecked by using OFA, maybe En used it in one leg and that's why his leg is differently-colored and looks more beat up. En probably couldn't handle the Quirk either.

This means that En was being logical and saw OFA as a tool, and only used it in a leg so he could run.

All Might specifically says an unprepared vessel's limbs will fly off. Even if En used it on his whole body, that means only his arms and legs; but that's his torso. His leg didn't go flying either; at least until they both went flying cuz he was severed.

#i hc en died at 19 #en lived at the same time as nana banjo gran torino and shinomori. all might probably too #and since banjo having OFA would be around the time society is picking itself up and creating rules (18 years after kudo and bruce) #i think of en as being in one of the first ever batches of Pro Heroes #and Banjo being a vigilante who then became one of the very few allowed to be a Pro Hero #which is why En is his junior (Banjo refers to him as his kouhai) #UA existed when All Might was 15 so its not much of a stretch to think En couldve been a hero course student #gran torino was a vigilante who became a hero just to teach All Might. he literally says this too #or maybe banjo never became a pro hero #which is more fun: law-breaking vigilante mentor and law-abiding pro hero mentee #en tayutai #banjo daigoro #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #spoilers #ofa #one for all #an older draft #clearin my drafts so some stuff is queued up like this

[cohlumbo]

Rust 'Dead Daughter' Cohle continues to have a normal one while working as Crash

#i won't tag w/ the show bc it's so out of context but <3 my mutuals & rust girlies in his tag know what's in my heart and soul i hope ♡ #🧃 #something about working and living and impersonating a criminal in a place that routinely spits out women tail-first #when you are not only a person that feels things to a destabilizing profound degree. but also every woman is your daughter #every woman is the image of what you couldn't save #of course he has no choice but justify it. of course death is the better hand to him because this is how the world treats the living #you heard of 'whats better to live as a monster or to die as a good man' #its more like. 'whats better to die as a two year old or to live as a woman in rustin cohle's world' #rust cohle #h #😵‍💫💫🌀 #if i don't get this fic out by the end of the week i'll literally have to give my password over to someone that can mass-post the drafts

[icewindandboringhorror]

boy in silly sitting positions compilation

#cats #I especially like the last one where he just has one single paw poking out of that box for some reason lol #I still have costumes to post and like a billion other things.... grr... constantly failing at staying active on social media aughh #I think because currently my Main Focus is on trying to get my game done and stuff.. which basically just means sitting and writing all day #so there's not much to post about. Though I know the Good At Social Media thing to do would be to post about the #writing and share progress and talk about the game and characters or whatever to try to build interest or something but that is SOOO weird #to me.. I could maybe get it if it was like a tiny tiny discord groupchat of playtesters with like 5 people in #it.. But something about talking openly about things before they happen is weird to me?? Like presumptuous feeling or something #''oooo guess whats gonna happen LATER!!!'' like.. how do you know.. what if it doesnt. what if you dont finish it. what if its not the way #you think it's going to be. what if something changes. etc. Like I literally avoid movie trailers and game trailers for the same reason ghj #Even if it's not ME doing it it just feels... weird.. Maybe it has to do with my OCD and how I just don't like talking about ''future'' #things in Certain Terms. Like if I was going to say ''Oh yeah sure. come over to my house in a few months''. I would have to follow it up #with like ''HOPEFULLY you can come over to my house in a few months'' or 'They'll come over in a few months MOST LIKELY''. Because just #stating that something will happen matter of factly takes for granted like.. what if somehting horrible happens and I DONT have a house #in a few months? or what if something bad happens to me. or to the person coming over? I can't ever DEFINITELY say with 100% certainty #that one could ACTUALLY come to my house in a few months. anything could change. So I have to allot for that in my phrasing. hbjjkn #There are a lot of situations where you're expected to just Assume Things but for some reason that bothers me. My brain literally does not #even Assume the most basic things.. like how do *I* know that just because it's someones birthday that they want to be wished a happy #birthday? what if they dont? everyone is different and has different preferences. I should check with them first. or wait until they public #ly announce that theyre accepting birthday wishes. I have to allot for all 5034859069 rare possibilities at any given time and never take #anything for certain. etc. ghjbjhbh.... ANYWAY.. I have been feeling a bit sick lately as usual.. but still slowly making progress on some #things. Moslty I need to edit costume photos. make sculptures. and work on the game. Going back reading some of the old writing from like #2018 and suprisingly I don't have to change that much of it? In fact I like it mostly. so that's good. I would be very interested if I were #playing the game myself. Though that doesnt mean much since my tastes are so niche lol.. #Still really want to clear some of my million tumblr drafts as well... alas and aughh and ooughh and so on and so forth. Between all of my #evil appointments other such things...why cant I have one billion dollar to retire into relaxed hermit artist life of no stressors.. bleas

[gallifreyanhotfive]

Ngl with my watching the show fic I have spent every other moment for the last several months wishing I had added some classic who companions to the chaos lol.

Especially Tegan, Nyssa, and Ace.

And now especially given what I'm doing after The Giggle.

Might throw them in there after The Giggle concludes right in time for the interlude, unless y'all think that's a shite idea.

#its a long character list but i pride myself on my ability to balance them out #and ill also ask this question in the authors note of the next chapter for those not on my tumblr #but ive been tossing this idea in my head since i first posted it #literally the first draft HAD them in it but i changed it because i struggled to scientifically rationalize why they specifically were there #anyway #if you have thoughts lemme know #im itching for tegan and ace and nyssa and classic companions #especially for those stories #but if yall hate that idea i wont #doctor who #dw #dr who #classic who #new who #watching the show fic #watching the show #fanfic #fanfiction #tegan jovanka #nyssa #ace mcshane #the giggle

[incorrect-riordanverse]

im so mad that this is a side blog account and not a main account. i started this blog when i was still relatively new to tumblr and i think i was… like. fourteen years old or something. i never thought i would continue for this long, and i never knew so many people would like the content i put out here (i have over 9k followers which is literally mind-blowing, like wow….).

because this isnt a main account, i cant respond to replies left on my posts, i cant really reply to anyone unless i reblog !! i cant even follow people with this blog, it just comes up as my main blog (which is not pjo-related… rip my failed attempts at organising my fandoms to different blogs). so my avenues of interaction with a lot of you are seriously impeded.

so i just want to say i am so thankful for all of you, i read every single person’s tags who reblog my stuff, i read all of your replies and every time im crying screaming rolling around on the ground in agony over the fact i CANT REPLY!!

i know my posts are super inconsistent these days, im glad so many are still here! i think i may change some of my content eventually (never gonna get rid of the incorrect quote stuff, i’ll just be adding some other things like pjo headcanons or analyses or something), just to spice some stuff up on here.

#also! im currently writing a fantasy book rn and have been so stressed over the fact that authors are expected to have a following before— #—reaching out to agencies with a manuscript. and i seriously stress about creating a following. #so my backup plan is literally you guys. my four year old pjo account on tumblr with its silly little quotes 😭😭 #and like. if that works. could you imagine. that you guys may actually save my future ??? like?? i love you guys for just following me bc ?? #YOU MAY SAVE ME FROM THE CAPITALIST PRESSURES OF SENSATIONALISING ONES OWN ART FOR INVESTED SUCCESS YAYYYYYY #anyways im not going to promote it now bc its still in the first draft area. not near for me to even go thru revisions yet. i may never- #-promote it on here. i dont want to annoy people with suddenly changing tracks. and i def wont transform this blog into a self promo for me- #-thats never going to happen! i would make another blog for it but for now everything’s just an idea! #i just wanted to say thank you because this has been giving me so much anxiety especially since graduating high school. the problems of— #—trying to be an author have become more pressing and immediate for me. i hope it will happen one day but who knows #you guys give me confidence though. and i literally cannot thank u guys enough (I HATEEEEE THE CAREER ANXIETY) #not riordanverse #not incorrect either #for followers #rewriting #sorry for the whole essay in the tags ☠️

[good-beanswrites]

My translyrics for Salamander, written out under the cut :D

This one was much more difficult than the last, but I'm still very satisfied with it! 😤 I'm both sad that my version lost a lot of the fun soundplay of the original, and also waaay more impressed with the lyrics and vocals after digging it like this! I tried to keep it balanced between the original and Fuuta's version, though maybe it ended up leaning more toward the cover, idk. Leaving my specific notes in the tags 👍

Salamander~ Hot's nice, don't you agree? This pa- passion's fine, see?

"But" isn't what I wanna hear, so say "more" loud and clear.

It's heating up all through my mind when I'm with you.

I want a taste, but all this spice may prove more than I can take, (eh?)

Something's on your mind. So spit it out and tell me, don't waste my time, kay?

I'm hooked on this, pass me a dish.

The way I'm starving here without you -- it's a crime

A spicy treat, put on repeat,

Can I get seconds with the same heat? One more time!

Salamander~ Hot's nice, don't you agree? This pa- passion's fine, see?

"But" isn't what I wanna hear, so say "more" loud and clear.

It's heating up all through my mind when I'm with you.

I can't stop anything, although I wouldn't want to stop, oh no --

Take a breath, it's best to cool down or you earn yourself a burn.

I want a bite, I can't help giving in to this new appetite.

Again, again, I want to be on fire when I get to the end.

We live too fast, we burn to ash,

I never handled spices well and it's a crime.

A spicy treat, put on repeat,

Can I get seconds with the same heat? One more time!

I want to burn bright red

I want to burn bright red

Salamander~ Hot's nice, don't you agree? This pa- passion's fine, see?

"But" isn't what I wanna hear, so say "more" loud and clear.

Tell me I'm not alone in my mind!

Salamander~ Look what's happened to me. This pa- passion's crazy

Tell me I'm not delirious, I'm being serious.

It's heating up all through my mind when I'm with you.

I can't stop anything, although I wouldn't want to stop, oh no --

Take a breath, it's best to cool down or you earn yourself a burn.

I want to leave I want to go, but I can never stop, oh no --

Take a breath, it's best to cool down or you earn yourself a burn.

#milgram #fuuta kajiyama #deco*27 #this time i can confidently say this is my fav milgram song lmao #literally the hardest line of the whole song was the very first one #still not 100% satisfied but compared to my dozens of draft lines its pretty good #i really wanted the 'po's to be within a word like the original and went digging through so many words with the sound in the middle LMAO #i wanted something focused more on heat/spice but alas it had to be passion -_- #there was very little space to get across the idea of 'its not a big deal right?' so i hope 'fine' conveys what i want it to hmm... #forever missing the sound of 'ripiccha itai/ piriccha itai' but the treat/repeat lines still worked out well! #so mad english doesnt have a nice onomatopoeia like 'fuu' :( #i needed to keep the long u to finish of the first stanza the long o in a few lines -- i absolutely love how arthur lounsbery sings those #my ace ass appreciates his commitment to singing such a steamy song so harsh and turning the seductive whispers into angry grumbling 😂 #me too man #the struggle of trying to write fun food lines and going 'oh NO that sounds even dirtier now' 😭😭😭 #i actually did record myself singing and i knew it was gonna be bad but it was Really Awful adsfdsfd so sorry #just take my word for it!!! it all works perfectly!!! #(once again if anyone wants to cover it hmu hehe :3) #oops spelled delirious wrong in my chart shhhhhh #lyrics

[whumble-beeee]

What's In a Name?

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping | Cont'd from Part 8

Content: mentioned past attempted noncon, hysterical whumpee/nervous breakdown (seriously yall, it gets bad), disabled whumpee, trans whumpee, tied up/handcuffs, noncon unshirtening, past captivity references

* * * * * * * *

Excerpt from: The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping; a self-help guide for villains and bounty-hunters

[While following this guide, as well as generally while playing the wonderful game that is villainy, you will find that the advice can rarely be fitted to every specific scenario. But one piece of advice is universal: If you value your freedom, your loved ones, and your life, you must never reveal your secret identity to your captured hero. As soon as you do, there is no more facade. Villainy is no longer a game. It is your life. And heroes will not hesitate to destroy your life if it means they can win the game. 

If a hero (or ANY untrusted party) ever happens upon your secret identity, it is your responsibility, as a villain and as a human being, to accept the end of your life as you know it…

Or to ensure that the hero can never tell another living soul.]

* * * * * * * *

“See you soon?” Deeby repeated Sweater-vest’s last words incredulously. “See you soon?! Christ, and you know he knows– god, he just needs to stop being such un pendejo and shut the hell up, stop making everything about his goddamn god complex and shoving it en las caras de todos–”

The sudden anger from the usually cool and smug Deeby did not help the apparent panic attack seeping ever so quickly into Stan’s consciousness, especially with said seething bounty hunter circling around the room like an angry shark as he muttered to himself and gesticulated wildly. 

Stan cowered to hide his shirtlessness from said angry shark. His chest and limbs started to buzz from all the excess oxygen entering his system as he took in heavy breaths, his head spinning, dizzy, hurting, every muscle clenching.

“--y quién se cree ese cabrón para venir a joderme MI TRABAJO?” 

He was so angry. So loud, talking so fast, and what the hell was he even saying?! It was too much, too much.

 “Y la puta Lana no puede ni aparecer para decirme que me está jodiendo la vida OTRA VEZ porque es lo único que le encanta hacer, joderme TODO lo que–”

Stop it stop it stay calm stay calm please not now please please please not now you can’t show weakness like this in front of your kidnapper you can’t stop it STOP IT–

He took in an involuntary loud heaving breath. Then fell into a stuttering slew of smaller breaths as he tried to keep quiet, and Deeby finally took notice of the state of his captive. 

Stan squeaked and pulled the jacket around himself tighter. He was small, he was silent, he was invisible. 

Then he gasped in another desperate heaving breath with an involuntary cry of panic when he suddenly ran out of air. He’d stopped breathing entirely with all his efforts.

“Stan? Qué es–... Ah, you good?”

Stan nodded quickly, shaking. “F-fine, fine.”

Deeby raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t lie to me. What is this, you having a panic attack?”

He couldn’t get his eyes to focus, but he shook his head fervently. Then reeled as it made the dizziness and headache so much worse.

“Stan, talk to me, chiquito. If he actually did something to you, tell me. I need a good reason to kill him, you’d be helping me out a lot.”

He didn't actually even hurt me, did he? 

“No–! I-I u-uh-uh yes-s-s, but– but–” 

I don't WANT to ‘help you out’! I don't want to talk about it! ESPECIALLY not with you. 

He let out a whine and failed to swallow the giant knot forming in his throat.

“Alright, is this about the shirt then? Or the uh, the chest thing? Is that why you went from colonizer white to ghost white when you thought I was gonna make you strip earlier?” He walked over to the tattered shirt and scooped it up. “Because if that's what got you, I can assure you I don’t give a single crap what you’ve–... got in your...”

Deeby trailed off as he held up the grey strips of fabric that used to be Stan's button-down. 

And just stared.

Stan gawked at the unrecognizable shredded fabric hanging in the bounty hunter's hands. His breath caught in his throat. He hadn't realized how utterly destroyed his beloved shirt was. What was he supposed to wear now?

“That… Motherfucker…” Deeby muttered, almost as as aghast as Stan. “Christ, I knew he'd pull some grade-A bullshit, but this–”

“Y-you KNEW?!” Stan gasped out, surprising himself with the volume of his outburst. “You– You knew he was gonna– gonna try to...”

Deeby didn't look up from the tatters in his hands. “Yeah. He's predictable, if nothing else.”

Stan's entire body felt like it was full of angry bees. “You–... You left me-e alone with ‘im. On pu-urpose.”

“And everything turned out fine, you're fine. Look runt, we need to have a little talk about what–”

“NO!” Stan cried, ignoring the drop in his stomach when Deeby's eyes took on a slight challenging glint at the interruption. “No, don’t change the subject! You left me alone with him! You knew he was gonna try to– to rape me and you left me alone with him! Handcuffed, chained to the floor, powerless, immobile, beat up to hell and– a-and unable to defend myself and you-you left me alone with him!”

The floodgates were opening. The stifling sense of justice suffocating Stan from the inside out wouldn’t let the injustices go unsaid any longer, crashing through his body and just about ready to make him burst. Ironic, given the everything.

Deeby’s jaw set. “Stan. I wouldn’t have left that shit-for-brains alone with anyone if I didn’t have to.”

“Oh, but you– you had to?” Stan taunted, hoping the sarcasm came through in his voice even with the stuttering and heaving breaths. “What, Dee-deeby the great bounty hunter actually answers to someone? Enough to put the uh, the bounty in danger? Or are you just scared of him, wanted to get away?!” 

Deeby snorted.

“Hell yeah, I'll do whatever if the buyer asks it,” he proclaimed. "And I'm not scared of that human cringe-fail. The day I'm scared of him is the day I'm dragged away screaming and turned into… well, you, basically. But I mean, that's when he's actually dangerous…" 

He seemed to think on it for a moment. Then crouched down in front of Stan, smug grin replaced with something like the look a friend gives when they think you're about to ruin your life with a single dumb decision.

“Honesty, bud… I wouldn't be so tough around a guy like that if I were a guy like you. Best to just fuel his ego.”

Stan physically recoiled. “Don't tell me what–! Who-wh–…”

That insult sounded way too genuine. Since when was the mercenary genuine?

“Wait, wait, you'd…” Stan shook his head, trying to untangle his thoughts from the spaghetti of his mind. This concussion was killing him. He could barely think. “If you were… Who even was th-that?”

Another chuckle. “What, Tweedy? That was Vaughn. He said that earlier, though I applaud your ability to block him out. Wish I could do that.”

Then again, the hunter was most likely just trying to psych him out. Get him to behave again. Stan wouldn't fall for something like that.

“No, idiot, I mean–... I meant who is he? Why is he going to-to see me soon?… And– and for that matter, are you working together? Because it seems like you hate each other.”

Deeby let out a huff of air. “Look, bud, we need to talk about that phone call I had to take, the boss–”

“You're avoiding the question.”

“Well frankly, there's more important things to talk about,” Deeby dismissed quickly. “So I was talking with the boss-lady on the phone while you were–”

“I don’t care about what that Lana person has to say!” Stan said, slamming his hands on the floor for effect, a breath-stealing pang running through his ribs at the jostling. “Jus– Just tell me who you guys are, tell me why I’m here, tell me why I should be scared of ‘a guy like that’! Who ARE you?!”

Deeby narrowed his eyes slightly. “We need to talk about what's going to happen to you next. And you're gonna listen to that. Not yell demands at me like some asshole 6-year-old, because you already know I don't deal with all that ‘who am I, secret identity’ crap, so you're not getting those answers.”

Well actually, judging by the horrible sticky weight that slammed Stan in the gut when Deeby said that, he didn't want to know what horrors awaited him next. So next best thing? Keep being an asshole 6-year-old.

“Why?”

“Anonymity is the most valuable tool you can have in this game.” Deeby recited it like a script, exaggerating a monotone boredom. “Also I'm not an idiot, it's protocol that's saved me before, it helps me do my job without getting invested… take your pick.”

“You're not even wearing your mask any more!” Stan cried. “So much for secret identity!”

“I think what you're meaning to say is ‘thank you for rushing to save my damsel-in-distress ass from some twink with scissors when you heard me screaming for help even though you were dealing with a really important phone call from the worst person ever’. And you're very welcome. Now we need to talk about what I found out in that dumbass phone call and what it means for you.”

He always had an answer for everything, huh? Always another quip.

Stan's blood started to boil, and he may have actually, genuinely growled a little. 

“S-so-so so what, you are scared of her, then? You're scared of her and that's why you left me with that monster?!” He tried, spitting back as much smug asshole-ness as Deeby had been throwing at him. “Is that why you hate them, you’re just their damn lackey doing whatever they tell you to do?! Just a puppet for them to guide around, running around capturing supers and serving them up on a silver platter like a good little servant?!”

Deeby stared at him, genuinely stunned by the sudden venom in the captive's words. His fists clenched by his side.

 Hm. Stan may have gone too far.

“Look, McKellen,” Deeby spat as he took an authoritative step forward, voice slow, low and dark. “There are things at play here that you can’t know about–”

“Why not?!” Stan felt like he was losing it, voice creaky and high and hoarse. “Obviously I’m gonna be trapped here with you assholes for the rest of my short life until you kill me with some new form of torture experiment bullshit! Why not tell me everything?! Why not do whatever you want with me?! Just tell me! Please!!”

Stan glared desperately at the bounty hunter. He knew he wasn’t even just crossing the line at this point; he was sprinting over the line and stomping on it repeatedly in a panic-fueled frenzy, kicking at it and letting out his full fury as if the line itself had done this to him, as if absolutely decimating the line would somehow fix everything.

Way deep down, almost too far down to admit to himself, he almost hoped the mercenary would see through the insults and the fighting to see the pleading, hurt, scared man underneath. And then take pity. Just let him have this one thing, before he broke entirely.

But the bounty hunter glared right back at him.

“No.” He stated venomously. “Right now, you're going to shut up. And listen.”

As if Stan would ever listen to the orders of his kidnapper. Of a villain.

A small laugh, just a little chuckle, took root his chest. A disbelieving smile cracked across his face.

The absence of the signature unbothered grin, the absence of the mask, the deathly seriousness? Not to mention the gun, the knives, the chains, the handcuffs, the power suppressing collar, no cane or crutch or any viable mobility aid in sight, and beaten so hard multiple times that he probably couldn't run properly anyway even if he did have a knee that actually worked…

This really was hopeless, wasn't it? 

He could rage against the dying of the light all he wanted. Scream and shout and cry and fight and say witty things to hide the excruciating, never-ending pain. 

But the light would still die all the same.

He clutched Deeby's very own stupid cowboy-ass jacket around his shoulders. He couldn't even defend himself from getting his shirt ripped to shreds right off his body!

And this bitch–

“You– you don't think…” he had to pause to let out a barrage of inappropriate giggles, then shoved up shakily to his feet, back braced against the wall. “You don't still think I'm gonna– that, that I'm gonna escape, do you?!”

Deeby gave pause, eyeing Stan up and down. Really thinking about it. He took a deep breath. A low grumble emanated from the base of his throat.

“No. I don't.”

Stan laughed out again, full force this time. Desperate. Tearful.

“Then just–... just TELL ME!! IT DOESN'T MATTER!! IT DOESN'T!! IT'LL DIE WITH ME!!”

The mercenary's mouth pressed into a thin line. Was that confusion etched into his features? Or worry? Maybe anger…

“It does matter,” He growled through gritted teeth. “It's probably the most important thing you could know, who I am. Who we are.”

Stan let out a loud cry of anguish, screeching out every single frustration at the unfairness of the world, at this situation, at Deeby and Vaughn and whoever Lana was, at the collar and the chains and the cut and bruises and broken bones and his broken, useless knee into a single, guttural sound. 

“WHY WON'T YOU TELL ME ANYTIN-GAH-AH!!”

Very, very suddenly, the lapels of Deeby's loosely draped jacket tightened around his body and slammed him back into the wall, the fleece-lined collar of the jacket twisting and pulling on the power-suppressing strap clamped around his neck, contracting it, choking him just as the slam forced all the breath out of his lungs. 

Stan clawed back against the force, only managing to grasp at Deeby’s forearms uselessly as they twisted the jacket ever tighter around him. Pinning his arms. Trapping him. He had to heave in and out gasping breaths just to get enough air to breath through his half obstructed airways.

“Look at me, chiquito,” the bounty hunter snarled. “Look me in the eye!”

Stan's panicked eyes paused their sporadic dance around the room. They locked dead onto the mercenary's fiery gaze.

“Did you break your damn brain in the 3 minutes I was gone?” Deeby hissed into his ear. Stan almost screeched in terror. “I don't know what sort of fuckery your mind has been conjuring up that you can't get this very simple concept without going insane,” he jolted Stan and dragged out an involuntary whimper from his throat. 

“But whatever it is, shut it down. Now. I'm gonna tell you the bare minimum of what you need to know, and you're gonna sit there and listen or else I won't tell you jack shit and knock you unconscious so I don't have to deal with your bullshit. Agreed?!” 

“I– Ah, a-ah, I– No, I- I, no-no no No-o–”

He couldn't get his thoughts to line up properly. They swarmed around his head like locusts in a dust bowl, bouncing into each other, frenzied, an indecipherable cloud of fear and frustration that his horrible attempt at defiance, futile as it may have been, always just made everything worse.

He could never stop himself.

Angry tears rimmed at Stan's eyes. His body hurt. His brain pounded in his skull. His ribs cried out in protest as they pressed into the wall. The various bruises and their dull, throbbing aches, the cuts and bleeding wounds and their sharp, searing screeches, the sticky and caked on dried blood, so familiar now it was almost a second skin, Deeby's weight pinning him to the wall, so similar and yet so different to the way Vaughn had done the same.

No. No, no, no, no.

He squeezed his eyes shut, tears finally falling in hot, fat drops down his cheeks. The bounty hunter was so close, too close. Stan tried to pull away, and he just leaned on him harder, their faces barely inches apart.

“Agreed, chiquito?” The voice rumbled through his entire body, sending shivers up and down his spine.

No no no no no no no he needed to get away, get away now, please please that's all he needed he couldn't get away he couldn't even move his arms he could barely breathe–

“WHY DON'T YOU JUST RAPE ME ALREADY?!” Stan screamed into the endless cacophonous void.

And silence.

And the entire world went still.

Deeby’s mouth fell literally agape.

His grip on Stan loosened considerably. Not out of pity or any other considerate emotion. Just shock.

At least Stan could finally breathe again. Not that he took a single breath in the silence.

“I–...” Deeby finally choked out. “I-I beg you finest fucking what?!”

“Just fucking do it,” Stan hissed, gasping. “We both know you could. I couldn't even stop Vaughn, you think I could stop you?!”

The words spewed out of his mouth faster than he could stop them, like a volcano that had finally exploded its top off in a fiery glory. And the way Deeby looked at him, as if his features were having an all out war over shock, horror, or honestly very justified anger? Oh, that did nothing but fan the flames of Stan's sorrow-filed hysteria.

“Tall ass muscle-bound freak with an actual gun that captured me and beat me up again and again then left me to die?! I don't even know who you are! You can do whatever you want and I can't do jack shit to stop you! Just do it, hurt me, rape me, it doesn't matter! Vaughn knew that, you can too!” Stan attempted to shove the bounty hunter off, but he still didn't move. 

“Please, please, I'm begging you, is that what you want?! I'll get on my knees!”

Stan collapsed against Deeby's hold, and to his surprise, Deeby finally let him. Well, not ‘let him,’ more like ‘recoiled and jumped back when he felt Stan collapsing in his grasp'. 

All the same.

“Chiquito,” Deeby rasped. “I'm– not exactly sure what or why you're demanding, but I'm not going to–”

“Why not?! It doesn't matter!” Stan assured, holding his arms out to fully present himself now, shedding the jacket onto the floor behind him and taking a daring scoot forward. “I bet you just kicked Vaughn out because you wanted me all to yourself! I bet you just love seeing me scared and helpless and half naked in your stupid fucking yee-yee jacket–”

“Alright, Stan, enough!”

“AT LEAST VAUGHN had the decency to not pretend like he was a decent fucking person like you!” Stan yelled. “We both know you're not above it, fucking professional kidnapper and torturer! So just do it! Like Vaughn wanted to, like he tried to! Finish what he started, you have me all to yourself now! DO IT! DO IT I DARE–”

“The name's Declan.”

The statement was a whisper in the storm. Stan almost missed it. But the resolute certainty of the southern twang stopped him dead in his tracks.

“What–… What did you just–?”

It was astounding how quickly his voice had turned meek from the cacophony of chaos mere seconds before. Dark freckles stood out against an even starker white face than usual.

“It's Declan,” the mercenary stated once more. “My name. My name’s Declan. You wanted t’know who we are, who I am? Fine then, I'm Declan. Want the last name too?”

“I– wait–!”

“It's Cansano. Declan Cansano.”

Stan was shaking, a million thoughts crashing down upon him like a tidal wave. If he weren't already on his knees, surely he would have collapsed. 

He hadn't actually… meant any of that. No. Had he? No. He couldn't have. He didn't want to know who the mercenary was. No, he didn't. He didn't, not really! He would never want that! Never!

“That’s not… Wh-why would you…?”

The bounty hunter shrugged. “You wanted to know who I am. You asked, you screamed, you insulted me and you went fuckin’ nuts over it.” His thunder-filled eyes betrayed his completely relaxed demeanor. “Declan Cansano. Don't forget‘t.”

“I just– That's not what– Wait, Deeby, you– Where are you going?!”

Deeby was already halfway to the door when he swiftly spun around, fists clenched and any trace of the easy demeanor vanished in those bright blood-stained eyes. 

“I can't fuckin’ deal with you right now!”

Stan nearly launched himself back in fear, right back onto Deeby's stupid, soft jacket. He grasped it up as a barrier between him and the mercenary without even thinking. The mercenary's demeanor relaxed from absolutely terrifying to merely extremely angry at the sorry sight.

“I'm leaving for a bit.” He whipped around and grasped for the lapels of his jacket to yank it on, only for his grasp to come up empty. He whipped around a third time. “And I'll be expectin’ my coat back when I get back! You better've calmed the hell down by then, if you know what’s good for you.”

Wait, wait, he was leaving? No!

Stan tried to scramble after Deeby, but immediately fell to the agony of his knee and the length of his leash. 

“Don't go, please!” he pleaded.

Deeby didn’t stop. “Why?”

What if you come back with more torture tools? 

What if you don't come back at all? 

I still have more questions for you. 

You can't just leave me here, I'm hurt! 

I shouldn't be alone right now. I can't. I'm scared of what will happen, I'm going insane.

Even you are better than no one at all.

“What– what if Vaughn comes back?!”

Deeby scoffed. “I'm not going that far, damn. Eat some protein bars while I'm gone so you don't die, should help with the insanity. Back soon.”

And the door to the room closed shut behind him, the click echoing off the walls in the sudden unbearable silence. 

Stan collapsed to the floor, defeated.

He clutched the jacket closer. 

Pulled it tight around his shoulders, fingernails leaving small crescent-shaped indents on the well-worn hide. The cotton lining was so surprisingly soft against his skin. Hell, he could smell the dirt and musk that permeated the jacket from years of use, the smal signs that this jacket had seen the capture of dozens of supers.

Declan.

Declan Cansano.

Professional Superhero-Hunter.

Stan screamed into the endless abyss around him.

And this time, Declan didn’t come back to save him.

* * * * * * * *

Next

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy | @pirefyrelight | @cakeinthevoid | @painsandconfusion | @books-are-everything | @paperprinxe | @lovethiswriting

#whump #heroes and villains #whump writing #whumper #whumpee #hero whump #defiant whumpee #kidnapping whump #captivity whump #trans whumpee #disabled whumpee #(un)official guide #mentioned noncon #tw nervous breakdown #GOD this one took SO LONG TO EDIT #AND WRITE #its basically unrecogniseable from its first draft bc i just kept having new ideas that fit the themes better #and changing it to help make it make sense #usually it wouldnt be this bad but i wrote it over like 3 serperate weeks in short bursts #so i didnt have any of the usual writing fervor in it at first and the pacing was FUCKED lol #I FINALLY GOT IT THO #its still not perfect but its pretty good and i CANNOT work on this any longer #ALL OF THIS was done on my phone btw. horrible time #would not reccomend #use a computer if you can #anyway ive been thinking about this specific scenario literally since before i started writing the actual story down #it was one of the main story beats #a changing of the tides #theres gonna be a lot of those pretty soon actually

[youngpettyqueen]

for prompts, might I suggest a number 14 with Julian takin care of Kira, and a ‘it feels worse than it looks—no wait-‘ with Julian being a bad patient?

oh my god I finally fucking finished it.

I am SO SORRY this took so long I got hit with. the most violent writer's block ive had in a HOT minute and this had me fighting for my life. I dont even know how many times I wrote and rewrote this. I went through so many different ideas it was actually ridiculous. at one point I had something finished but it Was Not Good and I dont believe in posting writing I dont like so I scrapped it and started again

I keep waffling on whether or not I like this, but thats entirely because ive spent way too long staring at it. im sure in a few days ill actually really like it, cause I really like the dialogue, which was what I wrote out first. pulling myself out of my perfectionism, I do think I like this, and at the very least im proud of getting it down when it gave me so much trouble

again, im so sorry it took so long, but writer's block is a bitch and ive had a lot going on lately, so I hope you understand <3

for the readers- 14 on the list is "Stop pretending that any of this is ok. It's not." I did adjust that one a bit cause I was having trouble making it flow. but, without further ado, here's what I've got! 

Kira slides down with her back against the wall, grinding her teeth as she clutches at her wounded shoulder. The pain is still hot, the hole burned into her skin practically still smoking. She hisses as her palm makes contact with the sticky, raw flesh, but she still clamps down. 

“Anytime you wanna get over here, Julian!” She calls, her voice strained. 

“Doing my best, Major!” Julian calls from where he is, hunkered down behind some debris as a makeshift shield against the barrage of disruptor fire. 

This is, in eloquent terms, a right fucking mess. Getting into a fight with a bunch of Jem’Hadar soldiers is never a good thing, even when they’re prepared. When they’re not prepared, it’s even worse. And this time, they weren’t prepared. Because there weren’t supposed to be any Jem’Hadar on this planet. This was supposed to be a quick pit stop for the Defiant, replacing some whatsit that O’Brien said was damaged in their last firefight, but then there were Jem’Hadar soldiers and they’ve managed to land themselves in a whole different firefight. 

It really just hasn’t been a great week. 

Kira inches closer to the wall’s edge. Her grip on her phaser isn’t stable, but it’ll have to do. She takes a deep, steadying breath, and then she twists over so that she’s peering out from behind the corner. She spots the Jem’Hadar pinning them down, quick count tells here there’s 3 of them, and she snaps her phaser up to hit them with some fire of her own. The motion pulls at her injured shoulder in a way that makes her want to scream, but she bites down on it. 

Julian, bless him, takes the opportunity to lunge out from behind the debris. He scrambles across the gap, barely dodging the returning fire from the Jem’Hadar, and manages to throw himself down behind the security of the wall. He plasters himself up against the wall beside Kira, right as she ducks back behind cover as the Jem’Hadar’s fire intensifies. 

Kira looks at him. He looks at her. He’s breathing hard and heavy, his hair a mess and dirt and blood staining his face. She musters up a grin to tell him, “You’re late.”

Julian gives her a flat look as he turns to her. “Forgive me, it’s a bit difficult to make house calls in the middle of a battlefield,” He replies, sounding very, very tired. But then his eyes flick to her bloody hand, still clamped over her wounded shoulder, and she watches his expression shift as he clicks back into what’s affectionately referred to as doctor mode, “Let’s see that shoulder, then.” 

Kira moves her hand, letting Julian get a look at the wound. She winces as he pulls aside the burnt fabric, taking a deep breath in through her nose and resisting the reflex to jerk away. “How’s it look?” She asks, mostly just to distract herself. 

“Like it needs more than what I’ve got,” Julian replies, frowning, “The dermal regenerator I have will do for now, but this is deep. I’ll need to immobilize your arm,” He tells her, giving her an apologetic look, “If you move it too much, you’ll risk tearing it open again.”

“Just do what you have to,” Kira tells him, “Won’t be the first time I’ve had to shoot myself out with only one arm.” 

Julian nods, and returns his attention to her wound. “Right,” He pulls his kit up and rifles through it for a second. The first thing he pulls out is a hypospray, which he quickly sticks into her neck. Kira relaxes fractionally as the painkillers immediately start to work, dulling some of the burning in her shoulder. Then he’s pulling out the dermal regenerator, and bracing his hand against her shoulder again, “Try to hold still.” He advises.

Kira just gives a tight nod, already gritting her teeth and bracing herself. She feels the dermal regenerator start to work. The hypo helps, but it doesn’t take away that burning, itchy sort of feeling of muscle and nerves and skin stitching itself back together inch by inch. She clenches her fists tight, breathing hard through her nose as Julian works. 

“Sorry, I know this stings,” Julian says, “I’m doing the best I can. This regenerator wasn’t meant for a wound like this.” 

Kira grunts a wordless acknowledgement. If she says anything, it’s just going to be a string of curses. Instead, she focuses on keeping her ear on the sound of disruptor fire, making sure it isn’t getting closer. If the Jem’Hadar decide to come after them, she wants to be ready. 

“Done,” Julian pipes up. She looks over as he puts the regenerator back in his kit, taking the worst of the pain with it and leaving her with a dull ache, “That’s the hard part done. I’m going to move your arm now,” His hands are gentle, taking her arm and carefully easing it away from her side, “There we go. Alright, hold it there, please.” 

Kira does. Julian sits back, and unzips his jacket to get at his undershirt. “This will have to do,” He tells her, tearing a couple of strips from his undershirt, “These won’t be the most comfortable, but they’ll have to do. I’m out of bandages.” He leans back in, starting to bind her arm with the torn fabric.

“Sorry about your shirt.” She cracks weakly.

“I’ll get a new one.” He replies, without so much as a smile.

She hates how flat his voice is. Hates how… unlike him, it is. Quiet, with no bite. “C’mon, Julian, where’s that boyish optimism of yours?” She asks, “I could really use a hit of it right about now.”

Julian secures the bandage around her arm. “I must’ve dropped it when they started shooting at us,” He says, not meeting her eyes, “Do me a favour, Major. Don’t pretend any of this is ok,” He sits back again, still not meeting her eyes, all caught up in taking in his work, “Cause it’s really not.” He does look her in the eye, then. And he looks so… tired.

But then, he’s looked like that for a while, hasn’t he?

Kira gives him a smile. A sad, quiet little smile. “I never said any of this was ok,” She corrects, “I’m just… used to it, at this point.” Very, very used to it. Used to it in a way she hopes he never is. 

Julian considers that for a moment. His expression is hard to read- sad, maybe. Sympathetic. Then he sighs, and breaks eye contact. “Well, I suppose I’m getting used to it, too,” He scrubs a bloody hand through his hair, “We should get going. Can you walk?” He asks.

No time for sentiment, then. Kira nods. “It’s just the arm,” She assures him, “I can do a hell of a lot more than walk.”

“Good,” Julian starts to push himself up to stand, “Let’s-“ He doesn’t get far. He wobbles suddenly, his eyes widening slightly as he nearly topples right over. He barely manages to catch himself, bracing a hand against the wall before he can fall against it.

Kira quickly reaches out to steady him. “Julian?” She sits up, frowning, “What’s wrong?”

Julian frowns, confused. “I… don’t know,” He says, looking down, “I can’t feel my-“ He cuts off, suddenly, his eyes fixing on something, “Ah.”

Kira’s brow furrows. “Ah? What’s-“ She follows his gaze, and comes to the same abrupt halt as she sees just what he’s found, “Ah.” 

Julian has a substantial wound in his thigh. A chunk of his pant leg has been burned away, revealing a raw, painful-looking burn that’s steadily oozing blood down his leg. Kira’s eyes widen at the sight of it. That doesn’t look good. That really doesn’t look good.

“Well,” Julian says, “That’s not ideal.” And then he sways alarmingly, nearly crumpling right to the ground.

“Julian!” Kira lurches forward, manages to catch him by the arms. He grimaces as he eases himself down, taking his weight off his injured leg, “Damnit, Julian, what were you thinking ignoring this? Gimme that tricorder-“ She reaches for his medkit, not waiting for him as she rummages through it herself.

“I wasn’t ignoring it!” He exclaims, “I couldn’t feel it! Honest!” 

Kira finds the tricorder and pulls it out. “Don’t tell me they augmented the ability to feel pain out of you,” He shifts again, adjusting his position to give her a better angle to scan him, and it draws a painful hiss out of him, “Guess not.” She hums.

Julian manages a weak chuckle, the first one she’s gotten out of him all day. “Not as such,” He confirms, “I’ve just been- gah!” He grinds his molars as she pulls the burnt fabric away from the wound, “Preoccupied.” He growls.

Kira huffs softly as she reads the results on the tricorder. It’s not a fun wound. “So busy trying not to get shot that you didn’t realize you got shot?” She asks, arching a brow at him, “I’m almost impressed.”

“Only almost?” Julian asks, all mock indignation, “I’d hate to see what I’d have to do to actually impress you,” He mutters. His eyes drift down, then back up at her. He looks worried, “How bad is it?”

Kira puts the tricorder down. “How bad does it feel?” She dodges. 

“Pfft, this little thing?” He scoffs, gives a weak little wave that’s probably went to ‘wave off’ the pain, “It’s nothing. Just a scratch. It feels worse than it… no. No, wait, that’s not right,” He blinks, and she can almost see the gears in his head turning as he tries to figure out the order of the words, “I don’t mean to alarm you, Major, but I think the shock might be setting in.” He tells her.

Kira can’t help but roll her eyes. “No kidding,” She says, “This isn’t my first time, Julian. Hand me the regenerator, I’ll do what I can with it.” She holds her hand out expectantly.

Julian hands it over. “Now who’s being serious?” He asks.

Kira adjusts how she’s holding him, making sure she’s holding the burnt edges of his uniform away from his skin so that she doesn’t accidentally fuse any fabric to him. “Oh, so you can make jokes,” She takes the dermal regenerator and adjusts her hold on it, making sure it won’t slide out of her hand, which is slick with blood, “I thought you dropped that along with your optimism.” She gets the regenerator going, doing what she can with the wound.

Julian chuckles again, grins at her. “I told you, the shock’s setting in,” He replies, all charm, “I’ll say anything just to say anything. Apologies, but I’m going to be talking your ear off until we get out of here.” He warns.

Kira keeps her eyes on her work, keeps her hand braced on his thigh to hold him still. “As opposed to when you don’t talk my ear off.” She counters. After a few seconds, she can see that the burn’s healed as much as it’s going to. She switches the regenerator off and hands it back to him.

“Rude,” Julian huffs, taking the regenerator and putting it back in his medkit, “How’d the regenerator do? I don’t want to look.” He’s looking even as he says it, like he can’t help himself. 

“It’ll hold,” She tells him, not seeing any point in sugar-coating it. He would see right through her in a second, “For now. I’m gonna bandage it, just in case,” She adds. Now it’s her turn to get at her undershirt, tear it up for strips of fabric, “I liked this shirt, you know.” She informs him as she does.

“I suppose we’re even, then,” Julian cracks weakly, “Have I ever told you you’d make a great medic?” He asks.

There’s the Julian she knows. “Flattery will get you nowhere,” She tells him. Satisfied with her bandages, she gets them ready, “I do have one question for you, Doctor.” 

Julian frowns, confused. Yeah, the shock really has set in if he can’t see what she’s doing. “Go ahead.” He invites.

Kira starts wrapping his leg. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?” She asks.

He looks even more confused. “What are my-“ She yanks the bandages tight before he can finish, and he cuts off with a pitched yelp, “Fuck!”

Maybe it’s a bit mean to chuckle, but Kira can’t help it. She doesn’t often get to hear him curse. “Oh, language,” She tuts as she finishes tying the bandages off, “There. Nice and tight. That oughta hold you together till we get out of here.” She gives his knee a pat. 

Julian pouts at her. “You enjoyed that.” He accuses. 

“I did no such thing,” Kira replies smoothly as she pulls his medkit closer to her and starts rifling through it, not bothering to ask him, “Want a hypo?” She offers.

“No,” Julian shakes his head, making her stop short and give him an incredulous look, “I’ve only got the one left. Save it for someone who needs it.” He reasons. 

Her look quickly flattens. “Don’t start with the heroics, Julian,” She advises, “You’re not gonna be treating any patients until after you’ve been treated. On the Defiant.” She doubts he can even stand on his own, let alone treat people.

“I can hold out till then,” He insists, “Someone else might-“

“Julian,” Kira cuts in, not giving him any room to argue, “Take the fucking hypo.” 

Julian’s brows shoot up and he looks a little stunned. Just for a moment, though, before he huffs a bit of a laugh. “Now who needs to watch their language,” He says, his tone light and teasing, “Alright, go ahead.” He nods.

Kira takes the hypo out of his kit. “Oh, thank you,” She replies, making sure her own tone savours strongly of sarcasm, “You’re a terrible patient, you know that?” 

There’s that grin again. All charm. “So Nurse Jabara keeps telling me.” He replies, like the pain in the ass he is.

“You should listen to her. She’s always right,” Kira sticks the hypo in his neck, and watches his shoulders instantly sink down a notch. She didn’t even realize how tense he was, “Better?” She asks. 

Julian takes a deep breath. Probably the first one he’s taken all day. “…Much,” He admits, with the decency to look a little sheepish, “Thank you, Major.” His smile’s a bit less charm now, a bit more sincere.

Kira finds herself smiling back. “Anytime,” She says. She shoots a quick look around, regaining her bearings a bit now that they’re both taken care of. She can still hear blasters firing, but not as close. They might’ve moved off somewhere else. Or they could be waiting, “We should probably get moving.” She suggests.

“Probably,” Julian agrees, “Just one problem, though. I don’t think I can walk.” He tells her.

Kira figured. “Can you limp?” She asks, “I’ve still got two good shoulders, both perfectly good for leaning on.” She offers, patting her shoulder for emphasis.

There’s that glint in his eye. First time she’s seen it today- stubborn determination, or, in another word, cocky. “I think I can manage that.” He says.

Kira grins. “Great,” She ducks in and gets her arm around his waist, pulling him in snug against her as he wraps his arm around her shoulders, “Alright, lean on me. Steady. And…” She pushes herself up, and brings him with her. He leans heavy into her side, and she tightens her hold on him to keep him steady, “Up we go. Ready?” She asks.

Julian takes a moment to find his balance, shifting most of his weight off of his injured leg and compensating on Kira’s shoulder. “As I can be,” He tells her with a nod, “Let’s go.”

And they’re off. Making quite the sight as they hobble back into the action, pressed hip to hip and clinging tight to each other. But, hey, they’re still kicking, and they’ve still got their phasers, so they’ll make do. They always do. 

#fic bitching #star trek: ds9 #kira nerys #julian bashir #like I said I really like the diaogue #I had fun writing the dialogue #and it came to me pretty easily once I settled on what I wanted with the scene #this was originally. a bunch of things #my first idea was two separate scenes #and I drafted several versions of those #but they just wouldnt flow #even the one I had literally finished just. I did not like it #it was not good #and I dont say that to be hard on myself I know im a good writer and what I wrote wasn't good and thats fine! #they cant all be bangers #but I wasn't gonna post something i knew wasn't good #hopefully the wait was worth it cause like I said while I keep scowling at this #I know its cause im grumpy it took so long #and its cause ive stared at it for way too long so it was never gonna look right #until I posted it #anyways! thats enough tag rambling #I hope you enjoy! #I love Julian and Kira theyre besties in my brain

[starrysharks]

writing 5 page encyclopedias on my ocs and their stupid backstories is so fun but writing the story itself oooooh i can't stand the writing the story itself

#mantra of 'i'm cringe. i'm cringe. i'm cringe' playing in my head as i write reassass's 5th chapter 1 first draft #i would get my sister to read it and tell me if it really is cringe but its so cringe i cannot even show her #writing savory's factfile on why he's so fucking weird: haha! yeah! weird guy! #writing savory in the comic itself being fucking weird: why is he talking like that. why is he like that. this is cringe #dude you are literally the one who made the character #the thing with reassassination is that i want it to have edge like shadow the hedgehog ripoff oc type edge #cmon its about a girl who gets KILLED but COMES BACK and she KILLS PEOPLE and shes trying to find WHOEVER KILLED HER and KILL THEM BACK #i dont want to take myself too seriously here #but thats the hard part how much edge is too edge #how can the transition from edgy horror-comedy to serious horror-drama be executed in the most graceful way #AURRRRRRRRGGGHHHHHH #we're strong. and we're brave mate. we'll find a way #its only cringe if u make it cringe zeno..... go write your stupid comic....

[dayurno]

#i will warn you only once: tsc spoilers #literally just finished it as i am drafting this its 5am where i live #so you may be subjected to some nonsense #that all being said i have thoughts.and feelings #the kevin was lovely and tasted delicious! jean defending him at every turn even when he swears to hell and back he'll kick his ass #the kevjean was surprising i was only half expecting that #the dog metaphors i have to say i need this one cashed in. nora run me my check #im joking of course dont quote me on it #jean taking kevins promise to the end and living on it is seriously so. well. #'be careful with him' 'take kevin's name out of your ignorant mouth' 'you promised me' #also kevin getting called the court's queen had me tender and on my back oml #jean's relationship with the trojans is sweet and he is very interesting and complicated #a character with many moving parts im sure #there were a few things i did not care for #namely jeremy and the trojans felt remarkably flat to me bar lucas (by far the most interesting) and catalina on occasion #i didnt quite enjoy jeremy's pov and felt like he spent perhaps way too much time worrying over jean? if that makes sense #i wish he had some more complexity to him or really anything to catch a hook on #all we know is hes attractive and smiley and gets along terribly with his family #so much of his character is sucked out by jean he didnt feel like much more than a plot device to me #which i wouldnt mind if jeremy wasnt the literal main character alongside jean #i was living for everything jean thought but had to drag myself through jeremy's pov if im honest #uuuuh what else. neil! funny. deranged. i have to love him #andrew couldnt give less of a fuck about jean which is funny as all fuck #two bugs placed in the same habitat ignoring each other #the thing with elodie i thought was complicated. i wish we knew some more about her or that shed been mentioned a little earlier #but im assuming thats a topic to be revisited #uuuuuuuh yeah so thats most of it. i think my first thought and the one that sticked out the most to me is that the book felt remarkably #pedestrian #not necessarily in a bad way #it lacked to me one of the main appeals of aftg which were the numerous interesting side characters

[noahtally-famous]

not me popping back on here with a post after months of semi-inactivity (uni is being a bitch) just to reiterate how much i love writing the pahkitew island cast.

aside from sammy and amy (obviously), literally everyone else can be shipped with one another and it'd make sense to some degree, like it takes skill to create a group of people so inherently shippable (platonically and/or romantically) and ofc the writers didn't know it they just shoved a bunch of random ppl together and dusted their hands off on it but fr tho 😭

(yeah im planning out my leonave 'stranger things inspired' au, and the gears are turning, and i forgot just how much i love writing for this dumbass group)

(i swear im working on the next chapter of a guide to surviving the apocalypse too)

#no but i've way too many ideas lmaoo #i forgot ive a whole longass post in my drafts dedicated to ramblings abt this longfic and i came across it today ahaha #like amy leading a manhunt for leonard bc shes got everyone to think he killed her sister (who she didn't even like much smh) #and topher's one of the ppl involved and when shawn hears he's like “topher? yeah i can handle him dw” (possible tophawn minor pairing??) #and leonard's abt to get the equivalent of being burnt at the stake literally #when guess who shows up in a fucking mercedes of all cars #fucking dave #and he helps leonard escape narrowly by driving fast af and leonard's so confused bc like “i thought you'd be with those guys” #and get this: dave doesnt believe leonard killed sammy bc of his vehement belief that leonard doesn't know magic LMAOOO #and leonard doesnt know whether to be affronted or grudgingly thankful bc if it wasn't for dave's desire for everything to be normal #leonard would have been part of the witch trials 2.0 #and idk who's watched st but the plot is somewhat inspired by it #like shawn goes missing first and dave as his best friend is panicking abt it (in this one axel is shawns cousin???) #and then when they find him at last the weird deaths start leading to leonard finding sammy dead and this whole situation #and theres a whole different world underneath them and its up to leonard dave ella and sky to team up and prevent certain destruction #and theres slowburn leonave (with pining leonard and oblivious dave) #and leonard lives with his uncle whos understanding of his passions (unlike his dad who basically gave him away for the same reason) #and leonard's life is total opppsite from dave's #and they both know it #and omgggg this au has been a brainrot for so goddamn long #but idk why i just got a slew of ideas for it today #and like dave stays over at leonards at one point and leonard gives him his bed (like a gentleman) #and the next morning shawn barges in like “wheres my best friend” bc ever since he was taken he's been v paranoid abt losing the ppl he lov #and he hugs dave and daves like “how dirty are you rn” and shawns like “nothing yet i waited so that i can hug you when i see your dumb ass #and everyones like abt dave to leonard “idk if he's the right one for you” #but then later on dave saves his life by going a little bit unhinged classic dave-style #and ends up scaring a nurse and receptionist into retiring early #total drama #td leonard #td dave

[davidtennantpussytulpa]

i appreciate a quick response but it also scares the shit out of me how fast my PI responds. like FUCK!!! i wasnt prepared to deal further with this for at least a couple hours

#like when i first emailed him last summer to ask about joining his lab i expected a response within like maybe 3 days bc thats what im used #to with most academics and professionals but he literally responded in three MINUTES and i felt like shitting myself #like. when does this man sleep. bc im emailing him my draft at 10pm and get a response right away when i know hes also in the lab at the #first moment he can. i have no way of saying if he gets there earlier than 8 bc you know my ass is getting there at 9 but im pretty sure its #8 at the latest. AND he works out in the mornings. GIRL???? #hes like yeah during my phd i went to the gym at 5 was in the lab for 8 hours went home cooked dinner etc and would go to bed at midnight #so. he functioned on about 5 hours of sleep for at least 4 years and im pretty sure he still does. what fucking witchcraft is his body #chemistry doing in there. HES IN HIS 50S TOO

[wonder-worker]

A.J Pollard’s biography on Edward IV was so cringe lol (generic; minor but frustrating inaccuracies; intensely judgmental at times and oddly dismissive at others while never considering the broader context; entirely diminished and trivialized Elizabeth Woodville as both queen and wife of his main subject in the name of "defending" her; created a false dichotomy between Edward and Henry VII’s styles of ruling and lauded the latter at the former’s expense even though Henry literally followed Edward’s example for the very things Pollard was criticizing Edward for; had a downright nonsensical and thoroughly misleading conclusion about Edward’s legacy & Richard’s usurpation that was based entirely on hindsight, Pollard's own assumptions, and the complete downplaying Richard’s agency and actions to emphasize what Pollard wrongly and misleadingly claimed were Edward's so-called 'failings', etc, etc)

I wanted to buy his book on Henry V but after reading this shitshow and the synopsis of that book, im guessing it's going to be 10x worse, so...no thanks

#history media #this was written months ago im posting it to get it out of my drafts #it wasn't necessarily BAD. it was generic and readable. but it was very disappointing and misleading and its conclusion was just nonsense #listen I have no patience for the dumbfuck idea that edward somehow had the ultimate responsibility for his own son's deposition because #of his 'policies' during his reign. like I said it's based fully on hindsight and entirely devoid of actual context. it's bafflingly stupid #literally everyone expected Edward V to succeed his father and 'both hoped for and expected' (Croyland's own words) a successful reign #Edward V's deposition was richard and solely Richard's fault lol this should not be difficult to understand #the reason Richard's usurpation was possible in the first place was bcause everyone expected E5 to succeed and didn't expect Richard #do to what he did. nothing would have happened without his initiative and decisions. it had nothing to do with Edward's 'policies' #Edward's policies were fine. henry vii - who pollard vaunts to no end - literally *followed* them #and claiming that he failed to unite England under the Yorkist dynasty is just plain stupid #buddy if he truly failed at that then neither Richard III nor Henry VII would have thrones lol. both emphasized continuity with #him when aiming for the throne. like the whole point of 1483-85 was that it was a conflict WITHIN the 'Yorkist' dynasty #it was not an external threat against it. #'his legacy failed' his legacy didn't fail his brother destroyed it (while also presenting himself as his heir because logic what's logic?) #henry's victory was very much the triumph of his legacy (a claimant chosen by his supporters as the husband of his daughter) #like this is really not my interpretation it is literally what happened #i'm not trying to glorify e4 but his son did inherit the throne in a more advantageous circumstances than any other minor king of england #and frankly than most other adult kings. dumping blame on Edward's literal corpse rather than acknowledge Richard's agency is so tasteless #the problem isn't that edward made a mistake in trusting his brother. many other kings including Henry V also trusted theirs. #the problem is that his brother was willing to break that trust in a way that was unprecedented and broke all political norms of that age #ie: Richard's usurpation occurred because of Richard who re-ignited conflict to make himself king. please drill this into your head #also btw this illogical 'interpretation' is based entirely on Charles Ross' hatred and derision towards Elizabeth Woodville and her family #if you agree with this inteterpretation you agree with his vilification of them 🤷🏻‍♀️ #anyway if you want a better interpretation that's actually analytical and looks a relevant rather than a flawed retrospective perspective #i would recommend rosemary horrox's 'richard iii: a study of service' and david horspool's 'richard iii: a ruler and his reputation' #anyway one last time: STOP downplaying Richard's agency and actions. historians who do this are stupid and embarrassing. bye. #(i should really post horspool's glorious takedown of ross and Pollard huh? it was very entertaining to read)