#man the way thats going to be the extend of effort i have when it comes to promoing this damn thing

[commanderquinn]

Good Space Chapter 1: Flower

! i dont! keep these posts! updated! like i do! ao3!

that means you're going to find typos and shit (and possibly minor detail changes) that don't match the ao3 version! that's because im not going to bother fixing the tumblr posts until i finish good space as a whole. im only uploading them here as a backup tbh

—

master list / ao3 chapter link

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She’s the one good thing about trips to medical in the Avenger’s Tower.

Every other day, at her direct insistence, her lab is the only place in the entire wing that he’s willing to go to. It smells warm and safe, nothing like the antiseptic that makes him want to break a limb. For the first two weeks, he tries to tell her that she doesn’t have to do this. He’s been looking after the link from his arm to his brain for years. There’s never been a problem with it that he couldn’t handle, and he’ll come back if anything ever feels off. No matter how much Steve hovers, she doesn’t need to waste her time on this.

By the start of the third week, he can’t bring himself to suggest that anymore.

—

psa: there’s some gross ass (sometimes detailed) nazi medical shit all through this fic, so if lobotomy talk of any kind is a no for you, skim over any brain talk. your best bet is just to skip the lab scenes where you can ❤️

fic title is a song by skrillex! we needed bouncy shit that vague hinted at plot. the chapter title is a moby song to lay out the v i b e s 👾 im always going to list these, so y’all have a song to listen to while reading

all i can think that needs to be said for canon clarity (ill make it all clear over time dw) is post-WS buckaroo got picked up by steve and sam to be taken for a shower and therapy. no civil war, no age of ultron. we're taking parts of it and doing other shit, you'll see. fury’s publicly alive and director again, shield got flushed out because mmmmm i said so i guess. no red room here. its not about nat, the lack of consent history hanging between them isnt something i want with this. i want to focus on other parts of their trauma bond. alsomaybeishipnatwithsomeoneinthis.

im sorry, but i never started wanda content on my end, and AI jarvis is comfy nostalgia i want to play in, so likely not a lot for her here. yes, we will be having shuri bully bucky, ofc, she’s the pin that holds this whole plot together (what else is new)

oh and i treat bucky’s arm as more of an atompunk feel rather than “the nazi’s had bleeding edge limb tech in ww2 that only affects bucky’s arm, definitely not anything else”

other than that, we’re firmly in good ‘ol stark tech magic and too many open wiki pages for all my plot device needs

also my grammar aint the good. i write these mf's in my spare time while baked af, you're gonna have to give a bitch a break babes 👾

—

Febuary 17th, 2018

"That's not what I'm asking about."

Tony throws up his hands from the other side of the conference table, then lets them smack back down against the polished surface dramatically. "Illuminate me then, Rogers. I'm running out of ways to explain that she's the best I've got to offer for this."

Steve pushes a hand through his hair with a frustrated huff. "I'm not a brain surgeon." 

"No shit, that's what she's here for."

"I meant that I don't know what the fuck I'm looking at."

"Now I know you're worried if you're willing to," Tony clutches at the front of his shirt in mock horror, "swear in public." Pepper smacks his shoulder without even looking up from her tablet. The sight would make Steve smile under normal circumstances. 

"You can hand me any resume you want, Tony. I'm telling you that I won't be able to see a difference. I know you're giving me a team who can do the work; I'm asking if they can do it while it's Bucky."

"Are you worried about his safety or theirs?" Pepper asks, finally looking over. Her tone isn't judgemental. If anything, it's veering towards the gentleness it has when she's talking Tony down.

"I'm not worried about theirs. I will be there every time. Even if he has a bad day, I'll make sure that—look. Nothing's going to happen. It's just...." Steve flips open the folder he's been carrying for a week. The edges of it are starting to wear down at this point. Sighing, he slides his summary notes to their side of the table. "He still doesn't... he doesn't talk about the previous escapes. No matter what his therapist tries. He just can't bring himself to do it. But it's not hard to get a clear picture of what used to happen. He does this every time. He builds himself a strong house, then a fallback point, and then he goes to work trying to fix all the damage alone, which he'll never be able to do. No one could. And there's not going to be a goon squad rolling in to drag him back anymore, so he's just going to—"

"Yeah, yeah, push him to help him; I grasped the concept the first hundred times," Tony cuts in. If he weren't so damn anxious, Steve might honestly feel bad about being so far up everyone's ass over this. "You've got me on board. So, what's the concern here? Will she quit the first time he bites her head off? That's a pretty chauvinist perspective, especially coming from you."

"She's had to put up with Tony long enough to befriend him; that should be proof enough." Pepper smiles as the nightmare himself points toward her in silent agreement.

Steve raises his hands amicably. "I'm not trying to insult anyone's professionalism. I'm sure she's had more than her fair share of problem patients to get where she is today. I'm... I'm more asking if—Christ. I'm sorry in advance, alright? But... Tony, I need you to look me in the eye and tell me that you'd have trusted her to get you home."

A stiff, all-consuming silence falls over the spare meeting room. Pepper and Steve waiting on bated breath; Tony frozen as he looks back at him with an expressionless face. 

Steve despises himself for doing this to him. The knowledge of what happened in that cave is something the man is unimaginably protective over. It took years—and a night of blackout drinking on Tony's end—for the story to even slip out of him. Talking about Yinsen is the only time Steve's seen him cry that he can remember. It was just one overflow, barely even two tears that got scrubbed off his cheeks within the first minute, but it was there. It's the only way Steve knows to get his point across.

Tony looks down at the table and adjusts his posture. His head shifts and his lips purse in that signature move of his, the one that comes up when he's forced to be a person. With feelings. Pepper's arm moves, no doubt taking his hand under the table. 

He looks back up, meeting Steve's eyes as his posture relaxes. "I wish they could have met. I think Yin would have gotten a kick out of her fashion taste. I think she'd have gotten an even bigger one out of putting him in it."

It's the most ringing endorsement he's ever heard the man give. More importantly, Steve knows just how much weight sits behind the guarded words.

—

"I've got their personnel files if you want them. They all volunteered them to you willingly."

"I'm alright."

"Do you want their names ahead of time?"

"No."

"Not even their first ones?"

"They can tell them to me."

"Okay."

"...."

"...."

"...What are they?"

"The ones that'll be behind the glass are Hannah and Wyatt." Of course Steve knows to start there, where his nerves will fixate the most. Asshole. "You probably won't even talk to the two of them today, but your main doctor for this will definitely offer to let you. Her name is Ava. She's going to check in with you for confirmation on a lot of things before she does them. I shadowed her for over a week, asshole. It's not about you; she does it for everyone."

Bucky grunts. "I wouldn't have jumped on her for it."

"No, you'd have sat there brooding like a petulant jackass instead, probably making her feel bad." Steve pauses for a long moment, fiddling with the paper coffee cup in his hands. "You should read Hannah's file, Buck."

"Why?" He shouldn't ask. He can hear the motive sitting in his best friend's voice. It's a fucking trap, and he fucking knows it, but he also can't stop himself.

"Her last name is Schuster."

He absolutely despises the way the situation makes his gut clench. They're dead. They're all dead, and the ones in their place have been declawed for much longer than he's been off ice. He's probably not even going to talk to the woman, at least not today. He might catch the sight of a name on a coat, however. Or on a chart.

He wanted to do this without letting old habits in. He wanted to at least start this feeling like a person, not a weapon. But he gets why the dickhead is trying to baby-step him into it.

Bucky holds out his hand. Steve silently passes him the tablet he keeps. Neither of them says a word as he reads the SHEILD file to himself, line by line. Taking in a stranger's entire professional life. Her family, her known associates, every residence she's ever held. It takes a moment of hovering his finger over the subfolder with her medical records to talk himself down from opening it. Nothing is lingering in those shadows; Steve wouldn't allow it. That's not a line he needs to cross anymore. 

He hands it back when he's done. "The other two?"

"Nothing I could think of. Ava's seen your hard limit list—you remember I told you I was gonna give it to one of your—?"

"I remember. It's okay. That's why you have it."

"Yeah." Steve takes another long pause. "You remember that she knows—"

"I know."

"Good. The others don't. She says they don't need to for any of it, and it's never going on record again." He looks over out of the corner of his eye. "She's going to bring it up today."

"I had a hunch."

"I just wanted to make sure it didn't surprise you."

"I know."

"Good." Steve picks up his coffee to drain the last of it in one swig. He tosses the empty cup into a trashcan by the wall a few tables over before looking back at him. He extends his now-empty hand. "Ready?"

"Not in the fucking least." Bucky raises his hand to lock with his best friends momentarily. "Let's go."

There's no wing in this tower—and he's been through all of them by now—that he dislikes more than medical. The place makes his skin feel like a thousand goddamn spiders are crawling all over him, and the smell of it, fuck. It sits in his head like a fog while it burns up the inside of his nose, making him want to break anything touching any part of him. He'd make Steve be here with him no matter what; that's a given. But the fact that there's going to be a doctor poking at him today while he's trying to power through it all makes the guy's presence non-negotiable. Bucky needs the safety net for the good of everyone in that room.

Steve doesn't try for talking to distract him, mercifully enough. There are times when it helps. Today isn't going to be one of them. He doesn't even have to bring it up for Steve to know, and the reminder that he's understood helps his nerves. It's been an incredibly long time since he had an incident. He's proud of every last one of those days. He won't be upset with himself—well. He'll try not to be upset with himself if that streak ends. But he really, really wants that day not to be today.

Bucky treats it like a mission. He's braced and ready for the antiseptic when they first get through the entrance. He doesn't flinch or huff through his nose at the invasion, not even as they make their way to the specialized divisions. He's walked these hallways before; he's walked every single one in the tower. It was the only way he could get himself to sleep during his first week here. Aside from a few trips to the emergency intake, he hasn't had to force himself back. 

He's definitely never bothered with meeting the specialists themselves. It took long enough to convince himself not to memorize the names of every staff member in the tower. He doesn't need to do that anymore. That's what his therapist and the Star Spangled Spandex keep insisting, anyways.

The door Steve goes for sticks out against the sleek hallway long before they reach it. It's painted, and not just a solid color; it's covered with a garden scene done by several different hands, going by the skill variation. Bucky runs his thumb over one of the hundreds of flowers as they walk past it to feel how thick the tiny acrylic mountains are. One of the petals cracks under the light pressure of the move, making him frown. The mural's not sealed at all, despite being long dried. Not the kind of thing maintenance usually overlooks.

An absolute shock of color hits Bucky's eyes when he gets his first look at the neurosurgeon's office. The walls he can spot from this side of the entryway are lined with tie-dye hanging cloths, and the floor is covered in fluffed-up, vibrant rugs. There's not a hint of SHIELD regulation left in the architecture, with all the walls that aren't glass holding even more heavy paint globs. Some of the murals are more flowers, but a majority of them are space themed. 

The stench of antiseptic fades the farther into the room Bucky goes. By the time the door shuts behind him, it's entirely replaced with the warm aroma of apples and cinnamon. A long, curved desk is off to one corner, pushed against the glass wall overlooking the city and covered in picture frames. An arrangement of chairs piled with pillows matching the rest of the decor sits in the center. Each one of them is fucking massive.

The room itself is separated in half by a thick glass wall. He can spot two doctors sitting behind an array of equipment on the other, equally decorated side behind the glass. There isn't any creative paint in there from what he can spot. If it weren't for that, he could almost forget that he's standing in a medical lab. 

Almost.

"Hi there," comes a voice to his right. 

The woman it belongs to almost blends in with the office once Bucky turns his head to look at her. The lab coat that comes down to her knees is a solid blue rather than tye-dye, but it's covered in stitched designs. Most of them are shaped like bees. Bucky barely stops his eyebrows from raising at the sight of the outfit underneath. Loose cloth pants hanging low on her hips, with even more bees on them, and a hand-knit top that would have been called obscene during most of the decades he woke up in. The bun she's pulled her hair into must have been done this morning; more than a few bundles are hanging down haphazardly. Bucky hasn't met a lot of brain surgeons that he knows of, but he doesn't remember any of them having glasses as thick as hers. He's pretty sure that good vision is something most of them need for the job. Not that he's nervous.

She walks over with a warm smile, already extending a hand to him. She's a short, round little thing. Barely five feet, if his guess is accurate. It always is. "I'm Dr. Ryder. You can call me Ava. I'm told you're my newest patient."

He accepts the shake with a nod and tries not to think about how sweaty his hand might feel to her. Wiping it against his pants would have been too weird. "James."

"But you prefer Bucky, right?"

"Yes, ma'am. Ava," he corrects himself quickly.

"Oooh, someone's stepped on some toes in the new century." Her smile takes on a teasing edge. "I'm originally from Canada; you won't find me taking offense. Ingrained cultural manners are a bitch to hold back."

"Careful, they're the only manners he's got," Steve warns, already heading for one of the chairs. 

"Ignore him. I'm house-trained," Bucky assures her. Taking his hand back, he hikes a thumb over his shoulder, needing something to stall with. "You sure you don't want someone to give your door a few clear coats? It'd be a shame to see all that work chip off."

Ava waves dismissively. "We redo it a lot; it's a relaxation project around here. It'll look different pretty soon." She points toward the glass wall separating the two halves of the office. "I've got the rest of the team working on a project to give us some space, but I can bring them in for a minute if you'd like to meet them?"

"I'm... I'm alright for now, thanks. I can meet them—whenever."

She doesn't insist further or comment on the blatant nerves in his voice. Her hand waves at the arranged chairs as she moves to sit in one. "Take your pick of the lineup, then. Typically I'd offer to take you to the corner of the roof that we've claimed for ourselves as an alternative. But, I need to keep you in environmental controls for sanitation, at least for the initial visit."

Bucky nods a few times as he sits in the one next to Steve's. His ass sinks nearly a foot into nothing but pillows, and his spine goes rigid. "Here's fine." 

He'd have said no anyways, not that he'll mention that. Too many open sight lines with his anxiety on edge. He'll be revisiting the roof before his next appointment to familiarize himself, though, that's for sure. His last trip up there was long before she was even hired. The mental image of bead strings and tye-dye throw blankets on patio furniture flits through his head. If she decorates the same way everywhere, he's guessing it won't be all that hard to find the space. 

Ava pulls up a tablet from the coffee table to rest in the middle of her folded legs. He's guessing she's into yoga in her spare time. One of her eyebrows arches at them in amusement. "You know, I've never actually seen someone fill one of these before now." 

"The benefits of dosed living," Steve quips, his tone a little too positive. It makes Bucky's foot start to bounce silently against the floor on instinct.

If she notices, the doctor doesn't mention it as she focuses on Bucky. "Steve tells me you prefer when doctors keep things direct with you."

Bucky shifts his eyes over to the man in question, who busies himself with one of the pillows, picking at the hanging fringe. Fucker's going to be hearing about this later, that's for damn sure. 

He looks back at Ava. Time to get it over with, he encourages himself. "Yeah, if you don't mind."

"Not at all. I know Steve's already told you, but I want you to hear it from my mouth. I have The Soldier's activation memorized."

He can't stop the gut instinct to swallow over hearing the words, but he nods. "I'm okay with it."

"It's not in any of my notes; it never will be. My team understands that there is a specific trigger in place; they need to in order to do their job. But they have no indication of what it is. I'll never write the words out or speak them where they can be picked up. Steve helped me with the pronunciation and the order when he first gave me your records, but you have my word that I won't be repeating them."

"You should," Bucky insists immediately. "If anything happens, you should, and you shouldn't hesitate about it."

"She knows, Buck," Steve assures him with a murmur. "I took her through the worst case drill. She's got a panic button on her."

"Steve tells me that my reaction time is fast enough for working on your case safely." Ava's head tilts to the side slightly. "Your comfort is the priority here. We can always run through a silent drill together if you'd like the reassurance."

He thinks about it. Honest to god, he lets himself sit in the idea of putting Steve's training to the test for more than a few moments. Neither of them push him for an answer. "I might take you up on that at some point."

She nods, the hair hanging closest to her face bouncing slightly. "Whenever you want. That offer is permanent. I'm taking this case on because I want to help undo what's been done; I'm not here to let it be continued, not even in research." Her eyes shift to Steve, with a bitter defiance building in them. "I trust that'll be clarified to the director if our work here ever reaches his ears, captain."

Steve nods, finally looking up from where he's moved on to picking at the pillow's stitches. "There's no more mud in that water. Fury understands how far over the line we went."

Ava doesn't look convinced in the least. Bucky doesn't blame her, not with the scattered memories of his role in all of it sitting in his head. When she looks back at him, the distrust leaves her eyes. "I'd like to get a better idea of what we'll be working with. I know that's probably going to be one of the most difficult parts of this, so we can try to get through it now if you'd like. Or we can wait until you're feeling more comfortable. It's entirely up to you."

Shifting slightly to straighten out his shoulders, Bucky nods. "I'm ready now."

It's an outright lie, but that doesn't really matter anymore. There's never going to be a time when he is ready. He still needs to do this.

"I'm going to need to adjust your head a few times today," she tells him with a relaxed, melodic tone as she stands up. She lifts a black briefcase from the coffee table and brings it over to rest on the arm of his chair, where he can easily see it being handled. "Is there anywhere you'd prefer me putting my hands? Or anywhere specific you want me to avoid?"

Bucky sees Steve shift his head slightly in his peripheral and wants to roll his eyes. Asshole. He'd have made a joke at the most; he wouldn't have been insulted. Probably. "I can't think of anywhere to steer you away from. You're good to do whatever you need to do."

She doesn't take him into the other section of the room like he thought she would. She doesn't even make him stand back up. All it takes to get the nightmare he's been dreading for years started is Ava pulling a wired, plastic wreath from the briefcase to put over the top of his head. She doesn't push a cold faceplate over his eye and against his temples; no bite guard gets shoved in his mouth. There's no frigid metal probing into the top of his neck to make his teeth buzz until he wants to rip them out of his jaw. The air around him isn't humid and suffocating like it was in that bunker. He can't hear the hum of electric coils or the squeak of leather boots on linoleum. 

He's not in Siberia. He's in New York. This isn't a HYDRA agent strapping him down. This is a hippie, who definitely smoked pot this morning, putting a sensor on his head that barely has any weight. 

"Here, hold this for me," she tells him from behind his chair, offering her tablet over his shoulder. He takes it silently, bringing it to rest in both hands. A digital scan of his brain is already being mapped out on the screen. It's the first time he's seen the anchor that wraps around his brainstem since the X-rays HYDRA used to leave up like trophies. "We can get a look at this thing together."

Bucky takes a deep breath in. It's… not a pretty sight. Whatever they put in him isn't registering in the bright blue lights of the rest of his brain. They're all dark spots, primarily lines branching out from the anchor that might as well be a black hole. 

"You see that?" Ava leans forward to run her nail up the path of one of the lines. It starts at the anchor, and it's attached to another point further up, but that junction is the source of even more lines that go all over. There's a fucking mechanical spider web in his brain. "That's your motor cortex, and those links are tethered to your arm, starting there. That—the one right there—is what's making your cybernetics work."

"What's the rest of it?" There's a fucking lot of it, whatever it is. A lot more than he remembers being put in. 

"Considering the intent of the Nazis that had you, the end goal was probably total control." Her finger moves, tapping several things that look way too fucking important as she keeps talking. "All of those there are connected to your essential functions: breathing, heart rate, consciousness. From there, they branched out into trying for control over your limbs. Jesus." She leans further over his shoulder and pinches at the screen to zoom in. "It looks like they were already building into your entire cognitive process."

"What does that mean?" Steve asks, worry rising in his tone. 

"It means they were reckless on top of being cruel. And fucking stupid—pardon my French."

"You're talking to soldiers, doc," Bucky reminds her quietly, his brows drawn in as his eyes trace the black spots in his grey matter. 

"Right. In that case, fuck every last one of them and the horses they rode... into whichever circle of hell they're burning in, I guess." Bucky's lips twitch slightly as she zooms back out. "They were venturing into parts of the brain that haven't been studied enough for human testing, even by today's standards. Blindly poking just to see what worked; my guess is because they knew that you could survive it. You see that big scary thing under your hippocampus?"

Bucky nods as she taps at the anchor. "Yeah. Yeah, that was… that was the first part. That got put in, I mean." He clears his throat when it starts to scratch. "I'm. I'm pretty sure it was the first part." 

"Do you want to know why you don't feel sure?" she asks gently. Her voice has dropped to something much softer. It makes him sit back in the overly comfortable chair incrementally. 

"Yeah," he tells her quietly, honestly. He wouldn't have a year ago. 

Ava circles her finger around the center of his brain, where one of the more prominent lines from the anchor holds several thinner, black branches. "That's your limbic system. It controls emotion, memory, behavioral habits, that kind of thing. They fried it at some point trying to get to your memories, I assume. My team has the photograph from your HYDRA file, the one with the X-ray from your initial brain surgery. I've studied it with my own eyes. That serum in your bloodstream is the only thing that brought you back from being a vegetable. The salvaged notes from the initial facility they kept you in mention months of unresponsiveness and varying levels of brain activity. 

"There's a reason you can't remember who you were then, Bucky. They wiped you clean because they knew you, out of all their test subjects, could recover from it. There wasn't enough left of your mind to hold memories, much less any kind of higher will." He hears her clothes shuffle behind him and sees Steve turn his head to look back at her from the corner of his eye. "I'm more than willing to testify to that in any court on Earth, captain. So we're clear."

"Understood," Steve replies, his voice thick. "I appreciate that."

Fuck, so does Bucky. Too bad he can't get his throat to open back up at the moment. 

"Now, let's talk about the hard part." He hears Ava sigh. "From what I can see, there's no way we can remove any of this. Not by any standard that I'm willing to entertain, at least."

Bucky shakes his head and tries clearing his throat again. It doesn't feel anywhere near as successful this time around. "That's fine. I don't—I don't think I'd… I wouldn't be ready for that. I just want to know it's not…."

"Capable of being controlled remotely?" she offers when he trails off. 

"Yeah. Aside from the code. I don't—that's not a problem. They're dead. Anyone else that had it, I mean." Christ, his foot's going to bounce straight out of his boot, right through the leather. 

"I can't make any kind of assurances at this stage when it comes to that. But you have my word that it will be my team's primary focus." Her hand pulls back, and he feels four of her fingertips lightly rest on his shoulder. "I'd prefer to check that connection point they left over your spinal cord before you leave today, but the rest of what we need for diagnostics can wait until another time."

Bucky pulls in a heavy breath through his nose. "Yeah. I'm ready to do that."

"I need to get a few things for it and check in with my team." She taps at the side of the wreath lightly. "You don't have to keep looking at the scan, but you should leave this on while I'm gone so we can get some basic readings."

"You're the boss, doc." He tries not to make it look like he's in a hurry to get the thing out of his hand when he dumps the tablet on his leg. 

"I'll be back in just a bit," she tells them, calmly shuffling off into the other half of the office. The glass door hisses loudly as she goes through it, confirming it's a sterile lab. The wall frosts over shortly after with the privacy screen activating.

Neither of them says a word for the first few minutes.

"Well," Steve finally offers up, his voice still as thick as when he thanked the doctor. "There's the confirmation you've been waiting for."

"That's not what that was—"

"Alright, you know what? Fuck you very much, Buck—"

"Fuck me? Fuck me? Yeah, I guess that's how it works now, what with you making alll the fucking calls—"

Steve's finger comes sailing into his face. "This affects more than just—" He stops with a short, muted groan and yanks his hand back to shove through his hair. After a moment, he lets it fall to his thigh in a clenched fist. "You want to sit here blaming yourself for it all, fine. I've got no right to tell you to stop when I'm still doing the exact same thing. But I'm pulling you through this whether," his voice goes high and mocking as he turns to glare a hole into the side of Bucky's head, "yooou like it or not. I let you fall once; I'm not fucking doing it again, asshole."

Bucky stares down a lava lamp sitting on the coffee table for a long, silent moment, his face pinched. He counts the number of wiggling blobs floating from the top to the bottom. He takes in their shared color and picks as close to a stupid paint name for it as possible. One by one, his photographic memory goes down the list of stupid colors from that stupid swatch wall at the stupid art supply store that Steve takes him to when he can't sleep at three in fucking the morning. He decides on fuchsia because it sounds extra stupid. There're twelve in total, they're fuchsia, and his best friend is as stupid as the name of their color.

The anger eventually eases up. "You're the asshole."

Steve sits back in his chair with a sigh. "Love you, too."

It takes a long minute of grinding his teeth for Bucky to force out the question that won't stop echoing in his head. "She doesn't know about the others?"

"She knows there were other attempts, but no, I didn't tell her any of them were successful. I left my notes in her file on what's been held back from her, along with the things she knows that her team doesn't. You can tell her whatever you want; that's up to you. I really think you should read through all of their files."

"Yeah?" Bucky snaps mockingly. "I really think you should kiss my ass."

Steve reaches out to grab one of the magazines from a stack on the coffee table. His posture is resigned and absolutely screaming I know better than you right now, idiot. "You should grow the fuck up."

—

There's no way the notes from HYDRA cover all his surgeries, not with this much framework built up inside his brain.

Steve warned her to expect something like this. The bastards passed Bucky around like a science experiment over the decades. Whenever a station was compromised, all of its records were destroyed to safeguard HYDRA's critical secrets, the work and confirmed existence of the Winter Soldier being one of them. Only a handful were raided by SHEILD efficiently enough to prevent further loss of his medical history. What remains is the scattered works of solitary minds spanned across decades. 

In Ava's opinion, not one of those minds should have been granted the mercy of seeing daylight again after their senseless, abhorrent, despicable crimes against the sergeant. Never in her life has she been a violent woman, but given a blunt object and five minutes with the lot of them, she'd have been very tempted to rebalance nature with ruthless gusto. 

A hand nudges at her arm, pulling her from her distraction with a quick inhale. "Sorry, repeat that?"

Wyatt's eyebrows pull in sympathetically. "Y'can hand this part off to one of us, boss."

"You can hand it off to him," Hannah interrupts briskly, her eyes never moving from where they're pressed against a microscope. 

"Y'can hand it off to me," Wyatt rapidly corrects with a warm smile. He drums his stylus against his arm and leans against the lab's center console. The movable hologram program Tony gifted them is already building detail into one of the darkest acts in human history. Right there, in front of one of the most gentle souls Ava's ever met. The contrast makes her stomach drop. "I mean it; y'know me, I got a real sweet touch. Betch'a the sergeant wouldn't even know I'd been there til it was over."

"Don't make me say it, Combs." Hannah almost sounds bored. The former marine is in a good mood today.

Wyatt doesn't even bother with throwing a quip back at her. He's usually wise enough to know when he's in a losing battle. Reaching out, he gives Ava's shoulder a supportive bump. "You said so yourself; he's alright with meetin' us."

Ava shakes her head, bringing her hand up to rub at the bridge of her nose. Her eyes are stinging hard enough to make them water. She shouldn't have pulled an all-nighter before this; it definitely isn't helping her frustration. "He's okay with it; that doesn't mean he's ready for it. You should see the way he's practically vibrating in that chair. There's not one part of this he isn't forcing himself through. I want to try to limit contact until he feels like he's in control of the space around him."

"That won't take long," Hannah comments quietly, reaching for another slide. "There are certain habits infiltrators don't lose."

"Speakin' from your own experience on that one?" Wyatt asks, curiosity creeping into his tone. Their eternal beacon of southern sunshine has yet to give up chasing details about her, unlike everyone else who visits their little medical corner. 

"Infiltrator is not the classification I would have given myself. I was never very subtle in my old line of work."

"Yeah, 'cause subtle's definitely the word I'd pick for your blunt ass now." Wyatt rolls his eyes and extends his hand to rapidly spin the projection of Bucky's brain with the flick of a stubby finger. "Either'a you looked at these trenches much yet? There's different cablin' in every major section. None of it's got a set standard, far as I can tell."

"I don't think he ever had the same doctor for more than two surgeries." Ava leans heavily against the console with a sigh, trying not to let herself venture into the mindset of a terrified soldier. She has to stay detached, or this will eat her alive before they're even halfway done. The enlarged hologram already hurts to look at in more ways than one. "Steve confirmed that HYDRA intermittently lost sections of his records through the years. All of this could be fractured by the decades; we won't know until Paige starts getting a read on the programming behind that main port."

"How do you want us to handle data transfer?" Hannah asks.

"Let's keep this off our internal server as much as we can help it. Tony sectioned off a virtual instance that we can burn when needed, but the only time you should be using that is for his scans. Put everything else on an isolated hard copy here in the lab, wherever you can do it without hindering the work. I want the equipment analysis kept as off-record as possible. I don't want this being recreated. By anyone."

"Definitely agreein' with you on that one, boss." Wyatt pokes his finger into the projection's left frontal lobe, halting its slowing spin. "I know we said extraction ain't the goal here, but I'm gonna be runnin' some sims on that when I've got the time. I don't like the idea of leavin' any'a this shit in, even if we do get it identified and nuked."

Ava nods and reaches up to give his shoulder a warm squeeze. "Let me know what initial paths you route; we can build from there. I doubt he'll be ready for any extensive work for years to come, but the least we can do is present him with some options." She takes a deep breath through her nose as she looks over the port connection on the hologram. "Alright, I'll be back after I finish his consultation."

"Good luck, boss," Wyatt encourages with a smile. "Tell the sergeant we said hi."

She waves her hand over her shoulder with a hum and braces herself to face her latest patient again. 

The sergeant himself is sitting just as stiffly as he was when she left, but the captain has moved on to relaxing with a magazine in his hands. They both look up at the sound of the door opening, with a laid-back smile on Steve's face and a forced one on Bucky's. She almost wants to tell him that he doesn't have to make an attempt. 

"Sorry for the wait; needed a quick check-in with the brain trust." And to not want to throw something heavy through Tony's fancy glass walls. "They wanted me to pass along their hello's. Dr. Combs, in particular, is very excited to meet you."

Bucky huffs a silent laugh through his nose as she returns to stand at the side of his chair. She doesn't try to move behind him for the moment. "Yeah, I'm sure I'm real—"

"Buck," Steve cuts in softly with a side eye in his best friend's direction.

"Fascinating?" Bucky's eyes lift to Ava's at her teasing guess, and his responding nod is sheepish. She smiles at the attempted manners. "Your case is as interesting as it is horrific, that's for sure. Lucky for you, we're a morbid bunch, so you can go for the gallows humor whenever you want." She taps at Bucky's arm with the pad of her index finger, trying to warm him up to repeat physical contact. "However, I'm pretty sure Wyatt is looking forward to asking for your autograph above everything."

The sergeant's eyebrows rocket toward his hairline. "What's he looking for? Love, The Winter Soldier?"

"Bucky." Steve doesn't even look over this time; he just drops one side of the magazine to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

The sight of an exasperated Captain America sitting in her office makes Ava snort loudly. She doesn't miss the way it makes Bucky's lips raise at the corners. "He comes from a long line of history buffs who believe accurate preservation is the best tool to prevent it from repeating. The guy grew up with battle models and field testimonials from every major war. I'm guessing he had some Howling Commando envy as a kid, though he won't own up to that on his end."

"He knows I was one of them for all of five minutes, right?"

"None of us were Howlies for long," Steve forcefully insists, one foot coming over to kick Buckys. "But that doesn't change the good we did while we were."

"It also won't stop him from chewing your ear off about it if you let him." Ava crosses her arms over her chest in amusement. "My advice is to stop him early. Definitely before he starts asking what you remember about the maps. You've got a real Milo Thatch working on your brain now." Bucky looks up at her in confusion. "Haven't gotten around to Disney movies yet? Milo's a character from Atlantis, one of my personal favorites. He and Wyatt share a certain level of academic excitement."

"I'll add it to the watch list." A small smile comes up, making her wonder what his cheeks look like when he really lets it go. "And keep the point of no return in mind."

She stops herself from gushing about the beauty of the art behind the movie, wanting to honor his headfirst approach. "You ready to get the last part of today's visit over with?"

His shoulders rise with another resigned intake, making her want to be ferociously violent toward the closest available Nazi. "I'm ready when you are, doc."

"My go-to hardware specialist built a prototype connector based on the scans Tony got during your initial intake. It's only the first iteration for the sake of data extraction, so be sure to speak up if anything feels off. Anything at all, even if it's just minor discomfort. She can work on changing it for the next build. I'm sure Steve can attest to Paige's efficiency at her job by now."

The slightest hint of a blush comes over the captain's cheeks at the teasing mention of his numerous visits to the engineering department. "Ms. Findley—"

"Does she ask you to call her that?" Bucky jumps on his best friend with immediately. Ava would feel bad about chumming the waters, but the banter is making him relax against the chair. 

Steve shuts his mouth momentarily. The blush gets a shade darker before he opens it again. "Paige is a very dedicated worker. And a lovely conversationalist. How do you two know each other? Through Tony?"

Now Ava really does feel bad. She puts a hand on her hip and tries to keep her smile from growing. "No, I'm the one who introduced them. She's been my best friend for about fifteen years now."

Steve freezes, and Bucky's grin takes over the lower half of his face. The sergeant sits all the way back, with shoulders that are perfectly at ease. "Oh, good. If I think of anything later, I can just have Stevie drop it off for me. I'd hate to forget between appointments."

Ava pulls the wireless reader and its port connector from the briefcase on Bucky's chair. She steps up behind him and tries not to let her eyes linger on how his smile lights up his face or how it warms her chest to see. Her free hand comes to rest on his left shoulder, leaving the exit door in his right peripherals. "This shouldn't take more than a few minutes at most. Ready?"

"Hit me." It almost doesn't sound forced. 

She lifts his hair and runs her thumb over the port once to brace him for the new sensations before lining up the connector. As she'd explicitly requested of Paige, the mechanism doesn't snap into place when she locks it in, meaning there's no responding vibration to move through his skull. The notes from Bucky's therapist that were passed along didn't mention it, but they hardly mention anything at all. There's a lot he's holding back, there has to be, and she's been trying to preempt as much of it as she can. 

Bucky's nails dig into the arm of the chair, and he inhales sharply. After a moment, his fingers start to relax one by one. Ava watches them all, her eyes moving between his hands and neck repeatedly, while the reader begins its data harvest. She gives him long enough to get a few steady breaths in. 

"Have you started any animated movie binges?" she prods, wanting to stall for time to get a closer look at his implant. With him letting her hold up his hair like this, it might be her only chance for the foreseeable future. 

"Sam's gotten me to sit through a few of his picks," he replies tensely. 

"Mmm. I'm guessing Mister Feathers is a Pixar fan." 

"I know that's an animation studio, but that's the extent of my expertise on the subject. Are they the ones who made Lilo and Stitch?"

"He did not make you watch that one first."

"He did, but that's technically not my first animated movie. We had them back in the 30s, you know."

"Some of us still call it animation's golden age," Steve mutters in the most crotchety old artist fashion, his eyes back on the magazine in his lap.

"Take a look around this room, Rogers," Ava sasses. "Do I look like someone who'd argue with you about its significance?"

"Point taken." 

Her eyebrows pull in while she looks over just how much of Bucky's spinal cord is exposed to outside influence. She knows how far the port runs thanks to the scans, but now she's getting an eyeful of movable hatching and flesh that will never get the proper chance to heal. 

"How are you handling the daily care of this?" she asks, running her finger around one edge of the port.

"I do it," Bucky tells her simply.

Her eyes lock on the back of his head in disbelief. "You do… what, exactly?"

"I've got a morning routine for it. Clear the excess buildup, sterilize the whole area, work the skin, that kind of thing."

"You understand that this has direct access to your brainstem, right?"

"I know." He shifts his weight in the chair. "I'm careful."

"I have several medical degrees, one of which is entirely focused on the human brain, and even I would hesitate to approach this on my own body. If anything that can give you so much as a hundred-degree fever touches this, you're dead, Bucky." She lets the hand not holding up his hair come to rest on his shoulder. "I'm not trying to scare you with this, but as your doctor, I need to make sure you understand the severity here. I don't want you doing this yourself anymore; I want you to come to my office for it."

"That's not necessary—"

"What time do you want him here in the mornings?" Steve asks, ignoring Bucky entirely. 

"I don't need to come here in the mornings—"

"It doesn't have to be every morning," Ava offers, wanting to give him a compromise. She's definitely not letting him go back to doing it himself. "I can set up a stable cleaning routine every other day whenever you have the time to come in."

"I have it handled, really—"

"I wouldn't push it past three days, though."

"Every other morning," Steve agrees. "That's perfect. JARVIS can keep an eye on the schedules for him."

"I've got working fucking eyeballs," Bucky almost shouts, making Ava and Steve finally let up. 

She squeezes her hand on his shoulder, half in apology, half in sympathy. "Yes, you do. But they happen to be in the front of your head. My eyes can see the back of your neck without a mirror, and they've got a decade's worth of disgustingly thorough medical training behind them. You came here because you're ready for this to get done. Now you actually have to let me do it."

Bucky lifts a hand as if he's about to argue but then lowers it with a soft sigh. "Yeah... yeah, alright. But I'm not always going to be here in the mornings—"

"She said it doesn't have to be the mornings," Steve cuts in again.

"You know what I mean, jackass. I'm not always going to be here consistently. I have, you know, a job that you try to boss me around on—"

"We can make sure you've got a trained medic to help—"

"No, Grant."

The words are said softly, and it takes a moment for Ava to even remember that it's the captain's middle name, but something happens in the wake of them. Steve's relentless push stops on a dime, and the fight leaves Bucky's shoulders. The two of them relax marginally, and Steve nods once. "Okay. So, we establish the routine here. Get it ironed out; get you practiced with it. Then I'll clear you for doing it yourself on missions. But if you miss even one while you're here, so help me—"

"I got it, I got it."

Steve watches Bucky with a tightly held expression for another long moment. Then he looks up at Ava with a nod. "He'll be here, and I'll make sure he's not cleared for another mission until you two have a stable routine for taking care of this."

Ava gives Bucky's shoulder another light squeeze. "I promise it'll be quick every time. I'll work with Paige on making you a field kit. In the long run, this shouldn't interrupt your normal day-to-day much at all."

"Appreciate the effort, doc." Bucky gives a soft grunt. "Sorry for the. Y'know. Pushback."

"I think the world owes you a little more than patience as backpay, Sergeant. I'm happy to help where I can."

—

Febuary 19th 2018

"I can handle it if you want me to."

"No. No, I... I can do it."

"You're sure?"

"You think I can't?"

"I think you look like you're about to throw up on my shoes."

"I don't like the idea of... starting off like that."

"That's why I'm offering to do it."

"No. It should be me. There are things you won't be able to explain."

"You can always fill in the blanks when she shows up for Soldat training."

"What a great alternative first impression! Hello, ma'am, not only am I a complete jackass, but I also delegate my role as—"

"You're not delegating; you're assigning the right person to the job. And this takes away the need for you to be a jackass."

"Leaving you to be a confrontational bitch in someone's eyes?"

"What's the issue there?"

"That's not what you are, Nat."

"Says who?"

Steve reaches out to smack the side of her arm. "That's one of my closest friends you're ragging on."

"She can take it." Natasha looks over at him, a bored hike to one brow. "Let's stay focused on what the doctor can take. This won't be like the therapists. We can't put him through multiple doctors on this. We'll only get one or two tries before he draws the hard limit."

He nods, turning his eyes back to the closed elevator doors. "Right. Right, it's for a good reason. I can do it."

"You don't have to. I can handle it."

"I know. But it should be me." He knocks the side of his boot against hers. "Thank you."

"Always. Let me know how it goes."

Natasha's off the elevator before the doors are even finished opening, leaving Steve to collect himself alone. He pushes off the back railing with a heavy sigh. No part of this is going to be easy to stomach. He's accepted that. He exits the elevator with a resigned set to his shoulders.

The medical wing is dark this late into the day. JARVIS already confirmed that the doctor is still in the building. From the AI's reports, she pulls late nights like this regularly. It bodes well for what he'll have to ask of her and her team.

He stops to admire the heavy paint on the outside of the lab's door. There's days worth of work here, clearly a labor of love. It takes until he's admiring the fourth flower of his perusal to notice that it's not all the same artist. He scans it a bit quicker after that, trying to take a guess as to how many different hands took part. His best guess is four.

Accepting that he's been inadvertently stalling, Steve pushes it open roughly. He probably should have expected the onslaught of color in the room from seeing the door. It still hits him hard enough to make him do a double-take through his exaggerated annoyance. The doctor sitting on the other side of a very large desk nearly jumps out of her chair.

"Christ Al-fucking-mighty," she swears, one hand coming up to brace against her chest. Steve gets nailed with a furious glare. "Knock much?"

Well, that's one test passed. "Are you Dr. Ryder?"

"I am. Who the hell wants to—oh." Recognition dawns on her face as Steve gets close enough to be illuminated by her desk light. The fury in her shifts toward indignance. "I happen to hold a lot of respect for you, at least during normal business hours. So, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt here and let you have a moment to explain yourself, captain."

He almost starts with an apology, but he catches himself in time. "I've been told you're one of the best neurosurgeons we're in contact with—"

"No, you've been told I am the best." She crosses her arms over her chest and leans back in her chair. Her head inclines toward him. "You can continue."

Steve's reservations about her being able to handle Bucky are leaving rapidly. It almost makes him smile. He holds it together with his best captain voice. "I need your expertise on a consultation. A private consultation. Completely off SHEILD books."

"Am I being roped into the organization's second overhaul?" There's bitterness lingering in her tone. The kind Steve remembers feeling on his own end for months leading up to Fury's near-assassination.

"No. When I say private, I mean private. This isn't under SHIELD purview. I'll be expecting discretion if you think you're up to the case, so we're clear."

The doctor's eyebrows sail up, and her head moves back far enough to hit her chair. "I'll be expecting you to hand over some details before I agree to a damn thing. As a follow-up, you can provide me with an explanation as to why this needed to be done an hour before midnight, with no forewarning and definitely no respect. Otherwise, you can turn your happy ass back around and go find the other neurosurgeons you didn't feel like harassing first."

Damn. He really should have gotten Natasha to do this; she's faster with proper comebacks. "You'll be given information as you need to know it. First, I need to make sure that—"

"First, you can fuck off." Her head shifts to one side as he pauses. "I don't respond well to authority, captain. I'm sure whatever's going on is very important if it's got America's Sweetheart making an ass of himself in the middle of my office on a Monday night. But that's not really my problem. It could be, were I given a reason to care about it."

"Does rectifying war crimes warrant your valuable attention, doctor?" The words feel awful leaving his mouth; she doesn't deserve to get barked at like this. But he needs an honest indication of how she'll react to a bad day.

Ava watches him with a slightly open mouth for more than a few tense moments. Then recognition dawns for a second time, and her eyes roll dramatically. "Oh, for god's sweet sake. You could have just asked if I have experience with PTSD patients. Hell, you were clearly sent by Tony, and I met the man at a veteran's benefit, so you could have asked him. Barnes' presence on the Avenger's roster isn't exactly a secret these days."

Steve holds himself still, then shifts his weight to one foot. "You met at a veteran's benefit?"

She nods slowly, with a bit of mockery behind the motion. "Yes. Almost a decade ago. He funds most of my work with the VA."

That hadn't been included in her resume. He didn't want to invade her privacy by pulling her file until she agreed to it. Steve feels heat rise to his cheeks. Then the anger starts to surface. "You know, I'm not one hundred percent sure I was supposed to know that."

"You think?" The words are bone dry, and her posture is still defensive, but there's a smile working its way up from the corners of her lips.

"Look, I...." Steve raises a hand to the back of his neck sheepishly. "I apologize. I promise it's not about doubting your professionalism—"

"It's about protecting family, yeah, I get it." Her arms don't unfold from her chest. But her eyebrows do come back down.

"He's very important to me. I want to make sure he's in good hands, that's all."

"Well?"

Steve's brows draw in. "I wasn't trying to dump the case on you right now—"

"No, idiot." Her eyes roll again, with much less aggression. "I'm asking if I passed."

"Oh." He nods, his cheeks still feeling far too hot. "With flying colors, so far. There's still a lot more to cover before we get Bucky involved, but. Yes, ma'am. I think you'll handle him just fine."

With a sigh, her arms finally lower. She extends a hand out in his direction. "Ava Ryder. It's very nice to meet you, Captain Rogers."

He takes her hand with a firm shake, inclining his head apologetically. "It's very nice to meet you, as well, doctor. You can call me Steve."

"You can call me Ava. So can James whenever I'm finally graced with his presence."

Yeah. She'll do just fine. "He prefers Bucky. And I'm sure he'll provide you with a much more agreeable first impression. All that can wait until you don't look like you're going to fall asleep on your keyboard, though.

Ava smiles warmly at him, falling back against her chair as she takes back her hand. "I'm looking forward to it. You can send me the details on the case at a reasonable hour to make up for scaring the shit out of me."

"Yes, ma'am." He tips his head respectfully, already backing up from her desk. "Sorry for the scare. And for being so disrespectful. He really is—"

"Important to you." She waves her hand dismissively before reaching up to push at her glasses. "I get it, don't worry. I'd be twice as much of a wreck in your shoes. You're doing fine."

Sometimes, on the rarest of occasions, there are benefits to having the worst moments of his life in the history books. "I appreciate that, thank you. You have a good rest of your night, ma'am. I'll send—I'll have JARVIS send you his file—"

"Captain Rogers is unaware of how to forward SHEILD files, doctor," the AI cuts in gleefully.

"I had my suspicions, JARVIS; thanks." She waves her hand again, this time in goodbye, as she looks back at her computer screen. "Please don't trip on my carpet and bust your ass on the way out of my office."

Steve pointedly turns on his heel, glad for the excuse to hide his burning face. He all but races to the door. "I'll be in contact, doc."

"Mhmm."

When he pulls open the painted door, he's almost unsurprised to find Natasha leaning against the other side of the hallway. She doesn't move at all, but one side of her mouth lifts in a smirk.

Steve lets the door shut softly behind him before cocking his head to the side. "Very cute. You two in on it together?"

"No, but sniffing out Tony's bait didn't take long. You'd have noticed, too, if you weren't so far up Bucky's ass." Her head tilts in the opposite direction as his. "Feel better?"

He straightens up with a nod. The motion feels confident. "Much."

—author's end notes, yoinked straight from ao3—

“what’s paige like?” well. to put it simply. she is every last ounce of karma that steve has earned by lovingly terrorizing his best friend 😌

i feel like the overall theme got covered enough with this to tell if the plot is for you or not. flirting starts next, but isn't super blatant until chap 4. i am in zero rush and will have no problem with dedicating an entire chap to cuddling tbh, this is a comfort project im in for the long haul. check back later for * to get full smut taste, current (possibly changing) map has it in chap 9. OR you can check back for kinktober, i have all 31 days outlined for these idiots. i need starfield to be good so i can do smut for that too, bethesda pls

keep in mind this will get sci-fi weird at times, and loosely ref/revolve around greek myth tropes bc iiiii like ‘em ❤️ im a fandom ancient who takes no issue with cleaning out the dickhead comments 😌 also i might edit shit. im still not clear on what ao3 will email about a bookmark (god willing its not edits that dont include a new chapter) but just in case i figured id warn for anyone who doesn't want email spam

im gonna try to keep ava and paige as vague as possible, aside from a few scattered physical details so i have SOMETHING to write. my favorite bucky fic in existence is a reader!fic (safe with me is Ungodly levels of good, and i dont just say that as a fellow west wing addict. i constantly forget that his apartment in it isn't actually canon and there're no m&ms hiding for eternity somewhere) so you wont get any judgment from me on replacing both of them right down to their names, that’s how im writing them!! it just feels unfair to tag it a reader fic with them being given SUCH a heavy “presence" i guess

main pov's (the undated ones) will always flip between bucky and ava. the dated ones are other characters pov's OOOOOOR its a flashback in which case it could be the two of them, but ill always try to make it clear whose headspace is focused up front, so i dont think ive set up a hurdle there

thanks for reading ❤️ i love and appreciate feedback immensely ❤️ feeds the brain chemicals 😌 no worries abt spoilers, i feel like anyone looking there knows what theyre risking lmao

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #chapter update #man the way thats going to be the extend of effort i have when it comes to promoing this damn thing #truly astonishing how little fandom energy i have lmao #i sure as shit aint taggin the other ones with anything but my sorting tags lmao #i do not have the Energy #good space

[autumnfangirler]

3, 25, 31 for ocs of choice for the couple's meme 👀

Sure! you are witness to a rare occasion where i actually make a choice (and you get to see who my favourites are)

3. By contrast, what was the moment that first made their ~heart~ Soft for the other person? Not necessarily a concious realization of "I love this person," but a moment that had them like "Oh...I adore them..."

Caine- caine finds the most value in the small moments, little things they get to notice and appreciate about the people they love. for ortega, it was back in the sidestep days, after some big fight they won that had ortega smiling like the sun. they didnt realize it then, but he loved that smile, and subconciously started to help the rangers more often just to see it. as for chen, theres a line in the game that goes like "he sounds amused in the way he does when spoon does something funny. no intent hiding behind it". i think it was the first time that happened. caine rarely got to see chen without a layer of distance or suspicion, so the first time he truly got to see him happy without the mask, they couldnt help committing it to memory

Cyrus- thats so mushy and stupid. he's going to throw up on you. hes also pulling out an alphabetically arranged and growing list of tidbits about daniel he absolutely adores. i dont think there was a specific moment that made him develop his crush on herald, it was more things he noticed that built up over time. his determination for his cause, his soft yet firm insistence of what he sees in cyrus, and of course his sweet little smile all made cyrus fall for him. the moment he realized "oh shit im in love with him" though, was the regene reveal. being seen and accepted for what he was when he only expected condemnation was such a novel prospect to him he really went "well i cant NOT fall in love with him"

Cynthia- she's such a hopeless romantic, if you asked her when she fell in love with ortega, she's say the first time she saw her smile. in actuality, it would be at some point braiding her hair. cynthia and ortega would tend to talk to eachother while cynthia worked. sometimes itd be silly stupid banter, and other times itd be...heavier, but either way, she learned a lot of what she does about ortega this way. she also gets to see ortega relaxed and honest in a way she never is around the press or her team, and it makes her super soft to know thats a privilege that gets extended to her. its also part of the reason she was a little sad to see it gone after heartbreak (altho cynthia does have longer hair than she used to in her sidestep days, so role reversal is definetely possible 👀)

25. They accidentally hurt or upset their partner. What happened? How do they respond? What do they do to make their partner feel better?

oh man, what happened indeed. the answer drastically changes depending on whether its a reveal or if its a natural disagreement or such, but ill answer for both

Cyrus- if its being revealed as puppeteer? uh. doubling down 💀 sorry danny, but youre really slowing down the whole villain and being evil thing, so he might as well use this as an opportunity to cut the chord completely. in his head he probably sees this as a good thing for herald anyway, because he doesnt have to be bogged down by feelings for him. a clean cut for the both of them. if its a natural disagreement, its probably more along the lines of cyrus making fun of something daniel likes. hes used to teasing and making fun of things with ortega, i dont think hed account for the fact daniel might take it to heart. when he does realize it, i think hed take the time to sit down with him and apologize. hes not the best with emotions, so itd lean more to explaining his reasoning, but he does promise to take an effort not to do that again. he doesnt want to ruin anything over something as stupid as that

Cecilia- argent already knows shes the villain so that doesnt apply lmao. she'd get into an argument with argent, but over what im not sure. in any case, neither of them like backing down or admitting theyre wrong, so apologizing isnt exactly ceci's go to option for making up. she'd more likely go for the asian mom route and get her some snacks instead. use it as an opportunity to talk about what happened, and if she really thought she was in the wrong, apologize. if not, shed likely ask to mutually drop the topic, agree to disagree basically. it depends on what argent does after that, but even if she doesnt want to drop it i think ceci would be more for civilized conversation by that point

31. What little thing do they find incredibly (though harmlessly) annoying about their partner?

Cyrus- i have a personal hc that a lot of the rooms in daniels apartment are actually rather haphazardly arranged at best(yes this stems from the scene where chen complains about herald not doing the dishes). cyrus doesnt mind a mess, but he does mind it when the other person is an artist who happens to paint from time to time. hes probably ruined a lot of good clothes wandering around the rooms and accidentally stepping on/tripping over paint. it has been cause for many a complaint, but hes tolerating it because he likes watching daniel paint

#fhr #sidestep #cyrus becker #caine lynzal #cecilia rider #cynthia garcia #i have no favourites #im insulted youd imply i do #i love all my sidesteps equally #ask game

[maybeonedayillfindout]

As a former mcu fan, and as someone still partially invested in some characters, marvel's fall from grace is not so much funny as it would be to an outsider but it's just kinda frustrating and sad. like. they had this whole amazing concept, all these comics to go off of, and for a while they were really good at it. hate them or love them, marvel has produced some genuinely good content, especially in it's early run when quality still mattered. they had well developed characters and just generally a really cool universe where each of them got their own seperate plotlines but also it all connected and it was just. genuinely good.

in phase 1/2 even the worst movies had some good to them. thor 1 was kinda shitty but loki was an amazing character (don't get me started on him, holy shit im so mad about the tv show, yes half my most popular posts are about it) and it was a good introduction to the extended world. tom hiddleston and chris hemsworth had a great dynamic and both got to be invested in the characters they were playing and made them feel more human. it was a joint effort.

and then, things started to suck. producers stopped giving the actors any sort of creative license, and they started focusing on money, and phase four fucking sucks. i used to be obsessed with every new marvel movie, and now im shocked that there has been over a dozen new movies/shows released. i have watched five, and can only remember one with any sort of real fondness. Loki the tv show i outright hated and he was my favorite character. it was actually, no joke, sad to me.

and now everyone gets to laugh and be like "oh yeah we all knew this was coming" and the thing is that they're right. they're right. but that doesnt make it less frustrating because it could have been so good. it could have been great but now they're putting out products that are retroactively making everything before it suck and now the only watchable movies are the ones that have a real arc outside of the setup/payoff of other movies, and those are almost always the work of individual directors and actors. here are the movies/ tv shows i like and would rewatch, even with all this new shit: Thor Ragnarok, it is one of my favorite movies and i want to scream and laugh about how the new thor movie turned out; both Guardians of the galaxy's, james gunn is a genius and it was so much better when they were completely detached from the rest of the universe; no way home, the only new thing i have genuinely really enjoyed, but that was because of the amazing actors; Agent carter, in my opinion very underrated and i look back on it fondly, it is completely unattached to the rest of the universe; ant man i think was good but i cant remember. thats it. i have not watched moon night and i dont plan to but from what i've heard its pretty good.

the rest is just. completely spoiled by the other movies and it sucks. thor ragnarok should be ruined by its ending but i just. i love it too much to give it up. like it was good, it was genuinely good, and then they ruined it. fuck you corporations, go suck my dick

#mcu #marvel #thor ragnarok #gotg #agent carter

[somnambulants]

i love your writing!! could you maybe do something with exes to lovers with nat?

word count: 3.9K notes: thanks for the request! i’m glad you like my writing! i also may...have started thinking about writing a second part because im super attached to this fic. let me know if thats something you guys would be interested in!

“Barton, you’re such a –“

Your world stops turning at the sound of that voice, everything else becoming static. It doesn’t matter that you’re standing in a room full of people that you’re supposed to be impressing.

It’s been over ten years since you’d last heard that voice.

Vaguely, you know that Captain America is speaking to you but the only thing you can pay attention to is her.

You turn slowly, and the second you lay eyes on her you know for sure.

It’s definitely her.

You see it the second she spots you too.

In all the time you’d known her, she’d always been so much more proficient at hiding things than you but you still see the way her eyes widen as she takes you in and the way her face shifts into something that resembles shock before she manages to mask it.

“Nat!”

You startle a little, having now somehow completely forgotten that Captain America was next to you and that you were in the middle of a tour of your new workplace the second you’d landed eyes on her.

Oh god.Your new workplace.

Your new workplace that was also clearly her workplace.

As she approaches, you futilely look for every possible way you can escape. “This is Y/N. Fury’s informant while Agent Emery is on reconnaissance. Y/N this is Natasha Romanoff.”

Natasha? Romanoff? Absurdly, you have the sudden urge to laugh.

She really couldn’t have come up with a better name after fleeing the country all those years ago? It’s a surprise to you that you hadn’t heard about her sooner with that alias.

Pushing that thought away and hoping that your face shows the professionalism you’re trying to convey, you straighten your spine and clear your throat. “Nice to meet you.”

Captain America’s eyes flick between the both of you. Maybe you’re not doing as good a job as you’d thought.

Natalia-Natasha takes the hand you extend to her and shakes it. “Likewise,” she says, and you hate the way your body still reacts to her voice all these years later; hate the way her touch still makes you feel.

Even more so, you hate that you don’t know what it is you’re feeling more of as you look into her eyes: fury or heartbreak.

She makes a flimsy –well flimsy to you – excuse and leaves the conversation after that. You watch her walk away, clenching the hand she’d touched into a fist as you resist the urge to put it through the wall next to you.

Somehow you think you’d have a hard time explaining it to the man still standing next to you, who is now watching you with a thoughtfully puzzled but not suspicious expression.

Not yet, anyway.

--

Your dreams that night are fitful and full of her. The first time you’d met, you’d been nothing more than children.

There are no children in red room though. Only fighters and a fighter, she definitely was.

You? Not so much. You’d never been designed to last more than a day in that place and you wouldn’t have, if not for her.

Natalia throws you back against the mat, again and then again and again. Each time you stand up with more difficulty until eventually, she throws you down so hard your vision blurs for a second.

You never had a chance against her, something you knew before you even stepped foot into the room and you know they must have known that too when they set you up against the most experienced fighter here.

It’s abundantly clear you’ve been set up to fail.

The next time she hits you, your legs give out beneath you and you can’t bring yourself to get up this time, even though you know what’s going to happen to you if you don’t.

You know how this works.

Bracing yourself for impact, you close your eyes and wait. It’s pathetic. You know.

The final blow never comes. When you finally crack open an eye, you find Natalia, arms crossed, just gazing down at you.

It might have been your imagination but her eyes don’t seem quite as hard as they had been before.

She extends a hand after a second of her just watching you and you watching her. A little part of you is convinced it’s a trick; that the second you take her hand, you’re going to fail whatever test this is.

Still, against your better judgement you take her hand and, rather than the macabre images playing out in your mind, instead she actually helps you stand, surprisingly gentle as she does so.

She gives you a second to reorient yourself and then her whole demeanour changes, turning cold and stiff as she crouches down back into a fighting position.

“Try again.”

Just as abruptly, you’re thrown into another and another. Quick flashes of the past that still haunt you.

Natalia taking you on your first mission.

Natalia holding your hand as you cried over the body of the first man you’d killed.

Natalia lying beside you on your mattress, running her hands through your hair gently when your nightmares became so bad you’d go days without sleeping.

Years and years of training. Years of bruises and broken bones. Mission after mission. Somehow, it’s all maybe not-quite worth it but it almost is – almost – because of her.

When you kiss her for the first time, you think that might be the first time either of you has had any control over what you do with your bodies. 

You can't remember a time where you'd had something you'd ever wanted and you wanted her so badly.

You can’t get enough of it. Or her.

And then, one day, you wake up and she’s just... gone. 

--

The next morning, feeling irritable and exhausted from your disturbed sleep, you walk into the avengers training room and find the one person you’d been hoping wouldn’t be there.

Of course, your mind spitefully whispers because of course it wasn’t enough for the universe to thrust her back into your life but it had to throw her in your face too.

When you enter, she has her back to you but you know she knows you’re there by the way her back stiffens slightly.

You watch as she stands up straighter at the words you throw at her back, unable to help yourself: “What is this? Babysitting duty? I think we’re passed that, aren’t we?”

She turns to you. “I usually come here early,” is all she says. She doesn’t respond to the bite in your voice.

You make a non-committal sound and then just decide to ignore her, stomping past her to make your way to the far corner of the room. You work by yourself in peace for about ten minutes before you hear the sound of footsteps and all of a sudden she’s in front of you.

“I need a partner,” she says. 

You have the urge to laugh in her face, before it strikes you how cathartic it would be to punch her right now, no matter how childish it might be, so you stand, letting the weight you’d been holding drop back to the floor with a loud thud, and follow her across the room.

You both crouch down in anticipation and you take a second to really look at her.

Her expression is unreadable. The pang you feel when you realise that surprises you.

There had been a time when you’d known her like the back of your hand and now she's nothing more than a stranger standing in front of you.

It hurts a lot more than you’d thought it would.

--

This continues for weeks. You don’t know why you let it happen but you do. You get up early; you go to the gym; you spar with her and then you fulfil the duties you’d been hired to do.

It’s almost easy to slip back into that headspace of your whole life revolving around her. Because it does. All you do is think about her when you’re not around her.

Over those weeks, you still barely speak a word to her because at least if you don’t speak, you have some kind of power.

To your surprise, she lets you ignore her, lets you pretend you don’t hear her whenever she speaks and you resent her a little more for that. You’d rather she hated you as much as you want to hate her.

It would make it all so much easier.

--

Eventually, though, you break.

You’re not strong enough to ignore your desire to know everything; to know how she’d ended up here. And why she’d clearly cared enough to stick around and try and save the entire world when you, a single person, hadn’t even been worth enough for her to stay.

“Why,” you pant, mid spar one morning. She’s kicking your ass, as usual. “Why here? Why the avengers?”

You’d sworn to yourself you’d never ask her this question but the yearning to know has been burning inside you since you’d walked into this building over a month ago now.

Equally as breathless, Natasha drops the careful façade she’d had up and looks at you with those eyes; the ones that could have made you do anything at one point in time. You’re not convinced they still couldn’t. “I wanted to do better… be better than what we were…. Isn’t that why you’re here, too?”

That answer hurts you more than any of the hits she’s landed on you this morning. And there’s been a lot. She’s still the superior fighter, even if she had left so long before you.

God, those words hurt to hear. Especially to have you lumped in with the clearly bad part of her life, whether it was her intention or not.

Maybe that’s why you say what you say next. Maybe there’s a little part of you wishes this whole situation would hurt her as much as it hurts you.

“How… uncharacteristic of you,” you ignore the last part of her sentence because honestly: you don’t know why you’re here. You feel like you’ve been lost and drifting your whole life and the only thing that had ever made sense to you was her.

You know your bitterness has bled into your voice with your words but you don’t make any effort to mask it. And if you can hear it, she definitely can too.

In the blink of an eye, she stops sparring with you, straightening up quicker than even you can catch. You let out a breathless huff of air as she grabs the front of your shirt pulling it so you’re forced forward until you’re almost nose to nose with her.

You hate that for a split second, before you can control yourself, you lean in slightly. As much as your mind can’t stand her, your body has no such feelings and it still wants her. You know you have no hope of hiding it from her so you don’t even bother.

“You don’t know me,” she says. The words come out of her mouth fiercely but the look in her eyes is soft, beseeching, like she wants you to hear her. “I'm not that person anymore.”

Like it matters.

It’s like you’re suspended in time for a second, and all you can think of as you look into her eyes is of the woman you knew.

You hate that you still miss her.

There’s a flicker of something in her eyes that you want to believe mirrors the torrent of emotions currently taking over you – the sadness, the anger, the grief – but you know better than to have hope when it comes to her.

You know all too well how it ends. And you’ve had enough of false hope.

Typically, in a fight, you know Natasha would come out on top – has every time -- but she’s never had your anger directed at her the way it is now and she isn’t expecting the way you’re practically vibrating with it as you shove her away, so hard that she stumbles backwards, only just managing to stay on her feet.

“Clearly,” you spit at her as you straighten up, and start walking towards the exit.

You know she’s still just standing there in the same spot. You can feel her eyes on you.“Yeah, run away,” she mutters under her breath.

It’s the first time she’s shown you the attitude you’d been giving her for weeks and her reaction is justified, you can admit it, but you don’t care.

You spin around, fury overtaking you as you advance on her until you’re pinning her against the wall behind her. “Sorry,” you hiss, glaring into her eyes. “I forgot you’re the only one who can do that.”

“That was different.”

You laugh. It’s not a nice one. It sounds like an injured animal trying to claw it’s way out of your throat. 

“Why? Because it was you doing it? Excuse me for not being —“

All of a sudden, she’s kissing you. Or you’re kissing her.

Either way, you’re kissing and you don’t know how exactly it happened but you know that you can’t get enough of her; can’t get her close enough even though there’s no longer even an inch of space between you.

She flips your positions, tugging you closer, and you’re abruptly bathed in cool air as she rips your shirt off you, shoving you against the wall.

Your heart picks up rapidly as she kneels in front of you, easing the rest of your clothes off in one fluid moment.

“I hate you. So much,” you tell her as you step out of your pants and it’s not convincing even to you. Still, you repeat it again and again as she kisses down your body – so tenderly and gently that your voice starts to wobble.

You hate it. You hate her.

She looks up at you from in between your legs, now on her knees. It’s such a vulnerable position that you find you can’t look at her and you have to close your eyes. Natasha digs her nails into your thighs as she forces them apart.

“Look at me,” she demands. Her grip tightens until you obey; you know you’re going have crescent shaped bruises tomorrow. Her gaze is soft and tender and just all consuming. You know there’s no coming back from it. You’d never had a chance, even back when you didn’t mind not having one. “Don’t look away.”

You don’t, not even when she finally, finally, touches you and your head falls back against the wall. 

You hold her gaze the entire time knowing how incredibly stupid this is and not caring at all about how much you’ll regret it later when you’re thinking straight.

--

And regret it, you do.

You stop working out early. You walk the other way in the halls if you see her. You know people are catching on that something is going on between the both of you; have caught multiple avengers giving you quizzical looks whenever you’re in the same room and it makes you feel even worse than before.

You channel all that regret into something more meaningful and commit to doing a damn good job at what you were actually here for. And you do. You can admit you do a fantastic job.

Every time you hand a report in or come back from a mission, you swear see a glimmer of approval in Fury’s eyes. Something you’d heard was notoriously hard to come by.

You must have done something really shitty in a past life though because after weeks of throwing yourself into your temporary duties, you walk into your temporarily office and are immediately flagged down by Fury, who debriefs you on the details of a mission he’s sending you on.

You’re thrilled for about three seconds until you see the name of the person you’re going with.

Agent Natasha Romanoff.

Fury is looking at you with a scrutinising expression when you look up from the file. Every time he looks at you it’s like he can see inside your soul. “Is that a problem?”

You grit your teeth and force yourself to smile. “Of course not, sir.”

--

It is a problem. A big problem, in fact.

You don’t speak to her on the flight there. Even though it’s only the two of you confined in the aircraft. You don’t even so much let yourself look at her. You can feel her looking at you multiple times, though, even though she’s piloting and should only be looking at the course in front of you.

There are no words exchanged between you all day beyond the times you absolutely have to speak. 

At least not until you reach the tiny hotel room you’d been given.

The second the door closes behind you both, she turns to you and opens her mouth and maybe it’s cowardly but you cut her off before she even start speaking.

“I’m going to have a shower,” you say and flee the room with your entire carry-on, worried that if you pause to sift through your things, she’ll keep talking.

Still in the same spot, the look on Natasha’s face when you emerge from the bathroom is full of clear exhaustion. You hate the way it makes you feel. Empty. Sad. It’s exhausting for you trying to convince yourself you hate her.

“I’m sorry I left,” she says and you freeze. “I wanted to come back. Find you. I just didn’t know - i didn’t know if you even wanted me to.”

You’ve wanted to hear those words for so long. Now you have you don’t know what to do. “Why did you leave?”

She hesitates. The look in her eyes tells you you’re not going to get a full answer. That as open as she’s trying to be, you still don’t get to know why she abandoned you. “It’s a long story.”

The evasion stings. “An apology means nothing if you won’t tell me why.”

It’s an unfair thing to say. You know that but you don’t really feel like being fair right now.

You chance a look up when she doesn’t respond and find her looking down at the floor. It makes you wonder what — or who — she must still be protecting by not telling you. 

It becomes apparent that she’s not going to say anything else after the silence between you drags on long enough that the tension in the air becomes almost unbearable.

You don’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing the tears in your eyes so you flick the light off and turn the lamp on your shared nightstand off, throwing the both of you into immediate darkness. It’s definitely too early to be sleeping but you don’t care.

Eventually, after laying there rigidly for what feels like hours and listening to the sounds of Natasha tossing and turning in the other bed, you finally fall asleep and are immediately thrown into dream after dream that quickly turn into fitful nightmares.

Nightmares that may be more aptly called memories. After one particularly bad one that thrusts you back into consciousness, you bolt upwards, still half asleep. 

You only narrowly manage to avoid bumping straight into Natasha, who’s hovering above you, because of her hand on your shoulder holding you in place.

You flinch away from her instinctively and she backs up to give you a little space.

The only sound in the room is your heavy and desperate gasping for air. Natasha, now perched on the very edge of the bed, bites her lip, looking at you as if she knows exactly what you’d been dreaming about.

She probably does. It doesn’t take a genius to guess.

“Are you –"

“I’m fine,” you say flatly. You stare up at the ceiling, absently counting the tiles as you try to slow your breathing.

You’re hyperventilating, you know it, you just can’t get yourself to stop. You’re also sweating, it’s disgusting. You can feel how all of your clothes are stuck to you. Your hair flattened to your neck.

If you hadn’t been dealing with this for so long, you’re pretty sure that you’d think you were having a heart attack instead of a panic attack.

But you have. Been dealing with it. It’s just something you’ve come to expect now. You just never thought she’d be here to witness it.

All of a sudden, as you’re still trying to calm your breathing, the bed dips below you.

Your eyes fly open in shock to find Natasha sliding onto the mattress beside you, still on top of the covers.

Gingerly, she rests her head on the pillow next to your head and fixes her gaze on the ceiling.

It’s slight but her hand brushes against your own a few minutes later.

You suck in a breath between your teeth, but despite yourself, you let her move closer, until she’s so close you’re almost touching, and you can hear her quiet breathing.

Against your better judgement, you let your eyes slip closed again. Seeming to understand you’re not going to push her away, Natasha shifts closer, until you’re both shoulder to shoulder, the way she used to lay next to you when you had bad dreams when you were kids.

She grabs your hand, and slowly, hesitantly, she moves it to her chest where you can feel her heart thrumming rapidly under your fingertips. Surprisingly, it still works; you breathe in and out, in out in out, in time with her heartbeat.

You must at some point fall asleep because all of a sudden you can hear birds chirping outside the window and the sounds of people outside in the street.

When you open your eyes, you expect to find the spot next to you empty and the covers unruffled, as if she’d never been there at all but to your shock she’s still there beside you, awake and on top of the covers.

The circles under her eyes make you think she must not have slept at all.

You slide out of the bed and head towards the bathroom without saying a word, where you turn the shower on and just sit under the spray for what must be at least an hour, letting the water run over you and trying not to think.

This time when you return, she’s gone.

--

The rest of the mission goes smoothly. If nothing else, you both work well together as a team. You can still read her movements like a book, and she knows to anticipate what you’re doing before you even know yourself.

The days go fine. The nights not so much. You don’t speak about it but every night you’re woken up by the same dreams and every night you wake up to find her kneeling beside you.

If you were stronger willed, you would’ve shoved her away the first time, but you can’t bring yourself to. Maybe it’s a little selfish but you can’t find it in yourself to care. 

The last night of the mission is when you finally break, though. Something shifts in the air when you wake yourself up gasping and meet her eyes. The same eyes that had been blank and lifeless in your dream. 

You know she feels the shift as well by the way she’s looking at you, cautiously hopeful.

You don’t say anything though and neither does she. You just lay there, side by side, and watch each other carefully for what could be seconds, or it could be hours.

Her eyes are begging wordlessly: Truce?

Despite yourself, as you gaze back at her, you find yourself giving in. For tonight at least.

Truce.

#natasha romanoff x reader

[idiotwhotalkstoomuch]

I never expected you guys to like demon Senjuro so much lol I’m really happy to see that like it was such a random impulse thought but the au has a lot of room for growth

In this post Im gonna establish a few things about what happened to Senjuro and Kyojuro in the events between Senjuro’s “death” and the pillar meeting. I will only cover their relationship and a little bit of Senjuro’s relationship with Tanjiro. The others can come at a different post cause this post is gonna be long lol so I put it under cut cause no one really wants a post to flood their dash

TW: Mentions of death (some are children), mentions of cannibalism (If you’ve seen even the first episode of demon slayer and had no problem, you’re fine with this post. This post is slightly not anime only friendly as I make references to an upper moon and I show a manga only panel as of posting this) Shnjuro gets really depressed but luckily there is no attempted suicide

Senjuro Rengoku

- His class was at the bottom floor and they were cleaning the school (I heard thats a thing in Japan if someone has a better idea on what they’re doing feel free to shoot an ask) when they got attacked

- In canon we dont know his age but I’m gonna guess like 12-14 but in the au he is 13 so he was 12 when he became a demon. A rogue demon attacked Senjuro’s class and Senjuro ran to get help and was fatally injured but still managed run to get help as he was given a nichirin sword and even if it didnt change color he must have known breathing techniques at the very least on a basic level and the demon was too preoccupied with some of the teachers and others trying to kill the demon, of course unaware of what it was except for Senjuro

- Upper moon 4 was sneaking around when he saw the all but dead body of Senjuro and demons really dont have standards for turning people into demons so when he noticed he was alive, turned him into a demon mostly so that if he did find any “evil people” (demon slayers) he could use him as his meat shield alongside his personalities

- When Senjuro woke up as a demon (cause even if he was a breath user he was very inexperienced so Hantengu had no problem making him a demon), he had no memory of his life as a human and looked around trying to find a human to satiate his hunger and saw a human in the distance with someone and began to run to them to satiate his hunger when he felt himself being held back. 

- The spirit of Ruka Rengoku gently held her son back and instructed him to not eat humans as that’s not something he should do and even if Senjuro couldn’t recognize the woman holding him back, he found himself obeying her and running to go to a place to hide from the sun

- From that moment on for a few day he would hop from place to place whether underneath homes, in caves or any place he could find to avoid being seen and to be shielded from the sun and found himself growing sleepy so in the cave he hid in, far away from the place he was last in, he closed his eyes and fell asleep for a year

- When he woke up, he had unwittingly burnt away Muzan’s control of him and was unsure on what to do when Ruka’s spirit appeared again telling him that he needs to find his way home. Senjuro wasn’t actually listening to a lot of what she said except one thing stuck to him. 

- “Senjuro”, he didn’t know what his name was as a demon but the name seem to stick to him and he figured this must be his name (he would of course be correct)

- When he found himself staying with the Kamaboko squad, having been spared despite being a demon due to him not having any form of aggression to them (something they all noticed due to his general demeanor and their enhanced sense) and Tanjiro could smell he hadnt eaten one human and he invited him to join them. He joined Nezuko in her box (she can grow really really tiny if she wants or is tired)

Reference: 

Kny chapter 85

- He joined for two reasons: One, he was really scared of people and demon slayers especially so when Tanjiro offered him the chance to be able to be safe and hide he took it. Secondly, he wasn’t sure but the smile Tanjiro gave and his warm reassurance reminded of him of someone, when he thought hard he only saw blurry shadows and got a headache so didn’t try to push it

- Tanjiro did ask him in the wisteria house while Zenitsu was chatting with Nezuko and Inosuke was off being Inosuke about his past and Senjuro told him about his brief meetings with a woman with black hair and asks if they’ve met before as he feels familiar

- This is where he gets the idea that the woman with black hair (Ruka) is his mother and Tanjiro guesses that the person that he thinks is Tanjiro must be his father (right on the first part Tanjiro but wrong on the second lol, you tried)

- He wears a cyan yukata with a new hakama pants as the clothes he was previously wearing was the same bloodstained clothes he wore after turning into a demon and Tanjiro didnt want to leave him in that. Tanjiro thought to get him a gag but the idea made Senjuro uncomfortable so Tanjiro made him swear to never eat a single human

- In Mount Nagatumo, he was too scared to jump out to protect Tanjiro like Nezuko but when she gets sliced up he leaves the box to watch her while Tanjiro fights Rui, unfortunately he is caught in Rui’s webs like Nezuko and was saved from it by Nezuko flames (though it did burn him a fair bit, Nezuko would apologize to him for this later)

- Giyuu doesn’t kill Senjuro cause his resemblance to Kyojuro despite the different clothes and demon eyes is clear to anyone who can see and Shinobu also finds herself hesitating but shakes those feelings off as Kyojuro deserves better than to see his little brother as a demon. Luckily Giyuu stops him and Senjuro runs with Nezuko and Tanjiro but is later taken back to the demon slyer corps by a Kakushi who put him and Nezuko back in their box

- When Sanemi stabbed the box, he moved to try and protect Nezuko but the box was too cramped and they both got stabbed despite his efforts. Later when he tries to bait him with his marechi blood, he’s too focused on resisting the blood and on Nezuko who he had grown to see as a sister to care about the wide eyed looks the pillars were giving him.

Kyojuro Rengoku (I am so sorry in advance Kyojuro simps I put this man THROUGH IT)

- He had just finished a mission and was going to get another mission when a crow he hadn’t seen work in years came flying to him, obviously panicked telling him how Senjuro’s school was attacked and how no one can find Senjuro among the bodies. The crow was Shinjuro’s

- When he hears that, all the kakushi and other demon slayers present would say they had never seen the flame pillar run so frantically, he only stopped to apologize briefly if he bumped into someone while running but the only thing racing in his mind was his little brother who had no weapon to defend himself with. He forced the image of his brother being nothing but a corpse away only thinking about saving Senjuro

- When he reached the school, he forced himself to calm down. Panicking isn’t going to magically bring Senjuro to him so he needs to keep himself in check because with so many people dead, he’s not the only one concerned over the kids

- There were no survivors on the area that was attacked, the police were there investigating the deaths of the many children and teachers, Kyojuro had to spend time convincing the police he was with them and to be allowed to investigate as well

- With no survivors, he heard from the police that there was a blood trail when they got there and he went to find the trail, when he reached the end of it where there were no traces of Senjuro but since the people there were untrained civilians, Senjuro was the only possible person to have been there

- He spent multiple days searching, Mitsuri was at one point sent to check on him and it was clear he was pushing himself, as days passed by, his composure and bright demeanor were crumbling and he started latching onto any lead to at the very least find the body of Senjuro to take back home but it was becoming clear that he would never find it and a kakushi had to be the one to tell him that his body was likely eaten to the bone or eaten and discarded to either rot away or eaten by someone else

- Kyojuro took a week off, not just because of the grief he felt at that moment but because he needed to check on his father and make sure he would be okay, the man didn’t even face Kyojuro when he came in to visit, he forced himself to not cry in front of his father as he tried to talk to the man who couldn’t even say a word and just drank away even as his eldest son tried to talk to him

- Servants were hired to monitor Shinjuro by Kyojuro as he was concerned about his health both physically and mentally but he did notice how Shinjuro never resisted to being taken care of by the people he hired. They reported to him he could be heard muttering Senjuro’s name and even stares at his room for extended periods of time

- When he made his return, he apologized to the pillars for his behavior the past two weeks (even though no one blamed the man, some even said it was okay if he needed more time, they wouldn’t judge) but whenever he was told that he said he had to be strong to protect the weak so he could be someone that could stop families from ending up like his own

- He was far more determined in killing demons, demon attacks had become personal to him now, whenever he saw a demon eating people he found himself wondering what they must’ve thought in the afterlife as the demon desecrated their bodies

- In the pillar meeting, when he was informed of a swordsman who travelled with not one but two demons, he felt disgust as who knows how many humans they could eat. On the way to the meeting, he couldn’t help but notice Shinobu deliberately avoiding him a bit, Giyuu was doing the same but the man never really talked with them much to begin with

- When he saw Senjuro go out of the box with Nezuko, he felt the smile on his face drop and his heart practically sunk to the core of the earth as he saw the unmistakable hair of a Rengoku and the face was so clearly Senjuro’s despite his eyes having a black sclera and his iris and pupil becoming cat like, the pillars had all turned to see if the flame pillar was alright and he could hear Himejima mutter prayers and Mitsuri was on the verge of tears seeing Senjuro alive but as a demon

- He found himself going into denial until Tanjiro, who had been freed as Obanai left to comfort the distressed love pillar, ran and yelled Senjuro’s name and told him to resist his hunger

- “My sister and the other demon with us are different! They would never eat a human!”

- Senjuro was a good kid, he was innocent, kind and a bit on the timid side. He had helped raise him, he knew Senjuro would never want to harrm a fellow human even when threatened. 

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon senjuro au #senjuro rengoku #rengoku senjuro #rengoku senjurou #kyojuro rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku kyoujuro #senjurou rengoku #kyojurou rengoku #tanjiro kamado #tanjirou kamado #kamado tanjiro #kamado tanjirou #ruka rengoku #rengoku ruka #shinjuro rengoku #rengoku shinjuro #kyoujurou rengoku #rengoku kyoujurou

[egcdeath]

checkmate

summary: you’ve always refused to lose, and love was no exception. (gone girl-ish au)

pairing(s): ransom drysdale x dark!reader, a special mystery guest ;) 

word count: 3.7k

warnings: 18+ because of heavy themes! faked death, framing of crimes, manipulation, alluding to sex, alluding to cheating, terrible relationship dynamic, very loose usage of the word crazy/psychotic, implied mention of self harm, brief choking & slapping (in a non sexual way lol), pregnancy trapping (idk if thats the right term), the reader is a very bad human being, overuse of italics  *please let me know if i’m missing any warnings!

author’s note: this is my 2nd submission for @stargazingfangirl18’s 5k soft dark challenge, i decided to make the reader dark >:) but ransom is also not a good person. I used these prompts: “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” & The town golden *girl isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.

this is definitely the most unhinged thing i’ve ever written, but blame @literate-lamb for making me write this because when i pitched this to her and said that i’d probably never write it, she enabled me. 

okay that's enough from me. join my taglist if you want :D

“I know women whose entire personas are woven from a benign mediocrity. Their lives are a list of shortcomings: the unappreciative boyfriend, the extra ten pounds, the dismissive boss, the conniving sister, the straying husband. I've always hovered above their stories, nodding in sympathy and thinking how foolish they are, these women, to let these things happen, how undisciplined. And now to be one of them! One of the women with the endless stories that make people nod sympathetically and think: Poor dumb bitch.” Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl

Your whole life, you’d considered yourself a competitive person. Constantly overcompensating for one thing or another, whether it was the chronic desire to achieve perfection that had been installed in you since you were a little girl, or your persistent internalized sense of inadequacy. You realized early on that it was much better for you to win than for you to lose, no matter the physical, emotional, or mental cost of the prize of perfection.

For the most part, this mindset worked out for you. You graduated as Valedictorian from your high school, neared the top of your graduating class at Harvard. God knew you earned it, all those tears you shed into overpriced textbooks, all the popping of unprescribed Adderall, and robbing yourself of the parties and social events that the rest of your peers gladly indulged in. 

You were just different, which was why you gained a job nearly immediately after your exit from school, quickly climbing to the top at the Blood Like Wine publishing company after only a few years of being there. 

And one night, at the party celebrating the release of A Thousand Knives when you laid your eyes on Hugh Ransom Drysdale, the grandson of your boss, you knew that you needed to have him. Rich, hot, a bit of an asshole. You deserved to finally complete your image, and that socialite flavored eye candy seemed to fit the part perfectly. Luckily for you, he was desperate. It only took a few tugs on your dress’ V-line, and a number of knowing smirks to find yourself being finger-banged in his family manor’s bathroom.

From there, you wormed your way into his life. Leaving belongings at his place as an excuse to come back, and offering booty calls in the middle of the night. Ransom must’ve been much more desperate than you originally thought, as it really only seemed to take one night of stroking his hair while he vented about his family to make him want to be with you. Men with mommy issues were always so easy. 

Except, he wasn’t that easy. The longer you got to know Ransom, the more fucked up you realized he really was. He had no boundaries at all, became jealous and enraged at the drop of a pin, and occasionally told you things that made the hairs on your arms rise. 

This of course all came to a head after the night of Harlan’s 85th birthday party. When the news broke of his tragic death, you’d immediately known it was the works of your Hugh. If your intuition wasn’t enough, his confession in the shower, where he’d demanded you take off your clothes to display that you were without a bug, certainly was. 

You were completely devastated. The man that you’d invested so much into for years had thrown both his and your reputations down the drain in just a matter of hours. Of course, you felt bad for Harlan too. He was a good guy (when he wasn’t instigating a family fight).

Still, you showed up during the funeral in your best mourning clothes and dawning your biggest crocodile tears. You rubbed Linda’s back while she mourned the loss of her father, and the new truth about her husband. You played dumb when interrogated by some Southern private investigator, even giving Ransom an airtight alibi. You testified on his behalf in court with enough conviction to grant you an Emmy. 

You’d gotten so far, devoted so much energy into him, that you simply refused to lose now. 

To your friends, you’d seemed to lead a near perfect life. Dream job, dreamy boyfriend, dream bank account, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more, you just didn’t know what. 

It dawned on you while sipping mimosas at the country club, Ransom playing tennis with his friends just a few yards away from you while Danielle showed off her brand new engagement ring, a .59 Carat Asscher Diamond, that if you heard her speak of again, would probably make you lose your shit.

You zoned out as she droned on and on about the shape, and how Matt proposed to her in their own private room in one of the most exclusive Parisian restaurants, instead focusing on how you could find yourself in the same position as that airhead next to you. In all honesty, you couldn’t stand the idea that someone was doing better than you, let alone someone in your own social circle. Dani got all the bragging rights of being engaged to the heir of some tech giant, being the first in your friend group to get eloped, and worst of all, Matt wasn’t even making her sign a prenup. 

You blankly watched Ransom from afar, taking occasional sips from your sweet drink, while you thought of how you deserved all of that and more, and you were going to get it one way or another. 

——

It didn’t take much to come up with something, your first and most obvious plan being to simply ask Ransom when he was going to propose to you. Of course, this wasn’t the first time you’d tried to approach him about this subject, you just wondered if maybe this time things would be different.

Panting heavily after a rather rough night in bed, you rolled off of your boyfriend’s chest and gave him a messy, yet sincere kiss. You knew your man well, and if there was any time to pop the question, it was in his post-nut haze.

“Baby,” you said breathily, “I wanna ask you something.”

“Shoot,” he responded casually, glancing over at you. 

“When’re you gonna propose to me?” you hummed.

Ransom groaned and shook his head, rolling his eyes, “this is about Matt and Dani, huh?” he tutted, then extended a hand out to your warm cheeks so he could gently caress one with his thumb. “Thought we agreed marriage is just a piece of paper and it’s stupid.”

You huffed in response.

Of fucking course.

“I never said that,” you muttered, setting a hand on his broad chest. “Besides, it’ll be good if you get pissed and decide to like, kill your dad or something. Y’know, spouses don’t have to testify against each other in court.”

Ransom chuckled as if this whole thing was funny, like your feelings were some kind of sick joke to him. “You know my lawyers, babe. They could prove that bees don’t make honey. That bears don’t shit in the forest. I appreciate your attempt, though. This has been some really nice pillow talk.” 

“Whatever,” you muttered, pinching his nipple in retaliation before turning your back to him and yanking the blanket onto your side. 

You weren’t sure why you were so surprised that he was being stubborn, most of the time you felt like you were pulling teeth from the man. But that’s why you had a backup plan! You always had a backup plan. That’s what separated you from your boyfriend. Where Ransom was extemporized and impulsive, you were calculating and prudent. 

Although you devised your plan that very afternoon while watching your partner backhand small green balls, you were going to need some time to get everything in order, to prove Murphy and his stupid law wrong in making sure that everything that could go wrong wouldn’t. 

After all, love was a game. And you sure as hell weren’t losing to Hugh Drysdale. 

——

You sacrificed too much to have your plans ruined by some trust fund baby with impulsivity issues. You deserved your dream marriage, the stability you wished you had as a child. You wanted the white picket fence, and everything that came along with it. Your desire to be the best, to be perfect was what drove you to poke holes in every condom in the box, what led you to draw liters of your own blood in hopes of staging a fake crime scene, to buy a cheap getaway car and burner phone off of Craigslist, and reach out to a high school boyfriend who you knew was in a position as desperate as you. 

You planted seeds of doubt in your friends throughout the following weeks, feeding them lies about Ransom’s behavior, how you were afraid of telling him that you did in fact see two faint red lines on that damn plastic stick– only half of the statement truly being false–, telling them that he was behaving erratically lately.

It all was going without a hitch. Ransom didn’t seem to notice anything was off, despite your frequent visits to the bathroom and newfound affinity for true crime documentaries. 

You almost felt guilty, knowing the world of pain you were about to throw the man into. Granted, he deserved the pain. You were in a relationship with a genuinely terrible person, and that person had made a conscious effort not to commit to you. You tried to make this easy for him, give him a chance to say a few words to you and slide a ring on your finger, but no, he always seemed to take the hard route.

You slept like a baby the night before you were setting your plan in action. You made sure to uphold the facade of everything being fine, making Ransom a nice breakfast before sending him halfway across town to the hardware store with an oddly incriminating list.

Once he was out of the house, you hurried off to the fridge in the garage where you’d been keeping a small stash of your own blood. It wasn’t pretty, but it had to be done. You poured the blood throughout the kitchen, splattering bits of it on the counters and cupboards. You poorly cleaned the mess, just as he would.

You put your next move in motion, falsifying a home invasion. You tossed over a table and some chairs, throwing books and photos onto the floor, but left some aspects slightly untouched, like an upright picture frame to give yet another hint that things were not exactly what they appeared. 

You left a tiny blue post-it note on the nightstand of Ransom’s side of the bed, a quick and simple doodle of a ring along with the first initial of your name inked onto the tiny piece of paper. 

With that, you were off. Technically missing, soon-to-be presumed dead.

----

 The days following your disappearance had gone even better than you’d initially planned. Local news coverage had been all over you, search and rescue groups were assiduously looking for you, your parents had opened a tip line, and begged for you to get home safe on news segments. But the best part of it all was that Ransom had been briefly found himself in police custody, only to be released shortly thereafter. His past of an accused murder quickly made your disappearance even more of a national story, and you watched the whole thing unravel from the safety and comfort of your high school boyfriend, Andy Barber’s Newton home. 

Of course, you fed him the same lies you’d given to your friends, and seeing the rather lonely position he was in, he gladly let you stay with him. You were absolutely having a hay-day with it all, dedicating hours of your day to watching Ransom slowly unravel. Maybe it was a bit sadistic of you to enjoy torturing your partner so much, but he needed to learn his lesson. You deserved better. You needed Ransom to rise up to your level, allowing you to finally complete your image. To let you two appear to be the perfect couple. Really, this was all on him.

Andy, for the most part, had been a good host. He was gone for the majority of the day, dedicating himself to his work while you lounged around on his dangerously cozy couch. Around two weeks into your stay, you were sharing a box of pizza in the living room with your old lover when something interesting on the television caught your eye.

Ransom, broadcasted on CBS, being interviewed on your disappearance. 

You watched with wide eyes as Ransom begged for your return on national television. It was one thing seeing your mother plead for you to come back, the same woman who had installed such toxic behavior in you sob for your return, but Ransom. You’d never loved him more than in that moment.

“Hugh, if you could tell Y/N one thing, what would it be?” the interviewer asked.

Ransom turned, looking straight at the camera, directly into your soul, “Y/N, I love you so much. More than you’ll ever know. I need you to come back safely, to see you, to hold you again. I’d give anything in the world for that right now,” he looked down, a tear falling down his cheek. “I can’t live without you in my life, I-”

His sentence was cut off by Andy grabbing the remote, and turning off the TV. You turned your head and frowned deeply at him.

“Why’d you do that?” you asked with a bit of a pout.

“I just couldn’t stand listening to him talk about you like he hasn’t treated you like shit for the past few years. C’mon, let’s get ready for bed.”

Your blood boiled. Andy was once a means to an end, but now he was interfering. He was clearly much too selfish to see that you and Ransom were quite obviously soulmates. A match made in hell. 

You followed him to bed regardless, curling up on what had been your side of the bed for the past few days, and staring at the wall until Andy’s breaths moved from a soft and rhythmic pattern to loud snores. God, those snores were obnoxious. 

You slipped out of bed and to his dresser, grabbing two soft ties from the drawer, and daintily tying his wrists to each side of the bedpost.

“What‘re you doing?” he mumbled, instinctively yanking both of his wrists as he awoke.

“I’m going back home,” you whispered.

“You can’t be serious,” Andy huffed, tugging on the restraint attached to the headboard.

You shook your head, “I am.”

“I should’ve known. Why would you do something like this? Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in with the law?”

“Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in when the world finds out that you kidnapped me?” you retorted.

This threat seemed to wake him up right away, “what about this was kidnapping? I gave you a nice home, fed you, I didn’t even make a pass at you. I didn’t do shit to you,” he hissed. “You think I can’t prove that? I’m a lawyer, for god's sake!”

You nearly laughed, “Okay, Andy,” you paused for a moment, “As a lawyer, who do you think everyone’ll believe? Someone who the world was on a wild goose chase for in the last two weeks? Or the man with a family history of violence? Must I remind you that your father and your son have killed people?”

Andy shook his head, face pinched in sorrow at the mention of his deceased son, clearly a low blow. “You’re insane,” he muttered.

“Swear to god that you won’t tell a soul what happened here,” you leaned over him, getting right in his face. “Or I promise, Andrew Barber, I will ruin you. You’ll spend the rest of your life behind bars, or disbarred, or whatever the hell I decide to do with you. So keep your goddamn lips shut.” 

You pulled away and he solemnly nodded, not bothering to put up a fight. You loosened the fabric around his left wrist and walked out of the room. You picked up the keys to Andy’s Audi on your way out, checking the time as you adjusted the driver's seat. 

9:45 PM. Fatherhood really changed the man.

You pushed that thought aside and began your drive home, which turned out to be a surprisingly short trip. When you pulled up in front of your home, you were met with a slew of reporters outside of the house, along with a police car that seemed to be permanently camped there.

As you slowly got out of the car, a gasp, followed by a loud silence fell across the crowd. You limped for dramatic effect up the driveway as cameras followed you, and glanced back at them pathetically. From your peripheral view, you noticed the officers get out of their vehicle.

You finally got to your door, ringing the doorbell and waiting. You blinked harshly a few times, conjuring up the tears you needed to really make a spectacle of the event. After a few minutes, Ransom opened the door, eyes widening as he looked at you. He stepped out, and you wrapped him in as big of a hug as you could manage, genuinely missing his embrace. It was possible that you even let out a few real tears in the moment.

Your emotional embrace was interrupted by the man you recognized as Lieutenant Elliott, the same officer who’d been assigned to Harlan’s case. 

“Ma’am,” he began, only to be shut down by you. 

“Please, just let me be with my boyfriend,” you pleaded, crocodile tears streaming down your face as you spoke with the officer. You still needed time to get your story straight.

“Just give us the night, Lieutenant. We’ll come in first thing tomorrow morning,” Ransom added, furrowing his brows at the officer that he’d come into contact with far too many times. 

He looked to his partner, who shrugged, then to you, “enjoy your night.”

Cameras flashed around you as civilians, journalists, and newscasters alike attempted to catch your attention. You grabbed Ransom’s hand and dramatically pulled him inside, insincerely attempting to hide your face by ducking and covering half of your face with your arm. 

As soon as you were in the privacy of your own home, Ransom threw you against a wall. 

“Why. The fuck. Would you pull a stunt like that,” he hissed through gritted teeth, eyes wild, and a hand around your throat. 

You whimpered as he tightened his grip, rage clearly flowing through his system uncontrollably.

“Do you know what you did to me? You almost had me thrown in fucking jail. Do you understand that?”

You nodded weakly, “Ran,” you whispered, “the baby,” you glanced down at your stomach.

He paused, dropping his grip on your neck and staring at you in awe, “no…” 

You nodded again. 

“How…? You told me you were on the pill… You- you made me use protection…”

“Surprise?” you said weakly. 

“You’re a psychotic bitch.”

“I’m your psychotic bitch. And no child of mine will be born out of wedlock,” you taunted. 

“That’s what this is about?” Ransom laughed manically. “You did this all because I won’t fucking marry you?”

You didn’t even have to respond.

“I should send you to the loony bin right fucking now.”

“What happened to all those things you said to me on TV?”

“You’re fucking delusional. I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can. And you will. I’ve had to put up with you and your stupid little antics for way too long. How do you think I felt when you killed your own grandfather?”

Ransom scoffed, throwing his hands up in exasperation, “you are so fucked up.”

“I’m the fucked up one? You killed your own blood in cold blood! You’re unhinged!” 

“You faked your own death for attention, and got pregnant while doing it! Is that baby even mine?”

“The fuck are you trying to say, Hugh?”

“I asked if it’s even mine.”

“Really. You’re accusing me of cheating on you. That’s rich considering Mia, Layla, and whoever the fuck else. You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being ridiculous? You couldn’t have a normal adult conversation with me!”

“Are you kidding me? I asked you time after time to marry me and it was always some bullshit excuse!” you wagged a finger in his face as you spoke. “Oh, commitment scares me, oh, marriage is just a piece of paper, oh-“ you mocked his voice in a deeper tone before you were cut off by the sting of his hand against your cheek.

“Can you shut the hell up?” he growled at you as you held your own cheek, before you reached out and slapped him back, “I can’t believe that I’m stuck with such a deranged bitch for the rest of my life.”

“Maybe work on your vows a little, dear. I don’t think that those words are as charming to me as they’d be to the rest of our family and friends.”

“You can’t be serious,” he groaned.

“But I am,” you hummed, rubbing your cheek softly once again. “Look at how fast your life fell apart without me here. How quickly the public turned on you. Imagine how upset they’d be if you left me. I love you, Ran. I really do. You and I are perfect for each other, can’t you see that now?”

Ransom took a step away from you, pacing slowly in front of you. He ran a stressed hand through his hair, and took a long and drawn out breath, clearly at a loss for words.

“So when should we have the wedding? I’ve always wanted a Spring wedding, and I know it’s a little short notice, but I don’t want to be showing too much in my wedding dress,” you grabbed Ransom’s bicep gently, as if you were just having a regular old day with him, as if you hadn’t been choked and slapped moments ago. “But we can make it work. We always make it work, right?”

Your now fiancé stared vacantly at the wall ahead of him, giving you a slow, empty nod of agreement. 

“It’s settled then,” you smirked. “I’ll start looking at venues. You find me a nice ring, okay Honey? One that puts all those other bitches’ rings to shame,” you sighed pleasantly to yourself, “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before hurrying up the stairs and into your bedroom. You heard a distant shriek of  “fuck,” from Ransom, but you truly could not care less. 

You hopped into bed, grabbing your laptop from its charger and promptly opening it. You couldn’t help but to smile at your own reflection on the empty black screen. This wasn’t how you imagined your engagement, but you did the impossible. You tied yourself down to Hugh Ransom Drysdale, he went down kicking in screaming, and you were likely in for a lifetime of cheating and resentment, but you did it nonetheless. 

You finally won.  

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #dark!reader #ransom drysdale x dark!reader #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom thrombey x you #knives out #knives out fanfic #siris5ksoftdarkchallenge

[tonesplash]

edward x reader

a/n: this is my first time writing anything ever i just wanted to write about edward joking around, long the way i learned unmoving isnt a word, apparently.

warnings: smoochin, reader character is vaguely brown and a gamer ig, uuuh gta mention?? thats it 

(p/n) = parents name

"I could almost hear your hair breaking off from the driveway." You barely flinch when he suddenly appears behind you in the mirror, evidently back from his hunt.

"Is this you saying me being bald is going to be a problem? Or are you gonna let me do what I need to do?" you snark, leaned over a bowl of ammonia with tired arms and a tingly scalp.

Edward raises his hands and brows in mock surrender, lovingly watching you ruin your hair from the bathroom door.

"I'm just asking you to be a little more careful, chemical burns do bleed after all." the mental image that flashes is enough to make the both of you grimace.

"Thank you, for that visual." he frowns.

"Oh but I love to think about you going buck wild on my bleeding skull." you bite your lip in a show of faux arousal.

"Not funny." Edward huffs but smiles anyways as he takes a step and in a flash lifts the sloppily folded instructions off the counter, no doubt reading it all in less than a second.

"What would we tell my parents when I'm pasty as hell all of a sudden?" you finish applying the bleach paste to the piece you were on and move to give him space.

"Venom doesn't burn off melanin (y/n)" he laughs as he grabs the application brush from your extended hand, parting your curls to get at the back of your head.

"How would you know? There any brown girls running at the speed of sound across the united states to beat my ass that I should know about?"

He drops his head to your shoulder to laugh and his shoulders shake with the effort to hold it in.

"Have you picked a color yet?" Edward lifts his head, still smiling as he ignores your foolishness.

"Perhaps I have, but no peeking! It's a surprise!" you sing as you shimmy your shoulders and vogue at yourself in the mirror. His free hand comes down on your shoulder to steady you.

"Stay still, I'm trying to concentrate." The little crease between his perfect brows is enough evidence to prove so.

"Oooooh" you draw out the sound. "so like when you were trying to put the bag on my head inside out and I was a walking dollar store advert for three weeks?" you purse your lips and meet his golden pout in the mirror.

"As I recall, I had profusely apologized" he continues to evenly part and coats your hair, "and I bought you that hat you wanted to help cover it." You close your eyes in exaggerated exasperation, crossing your arms, ready to admonish this immortal man like the boy he acts like.

"Edward, wearing that beret to school every day, for that long, made (P/N) think I was manic." he dips the brush into the bowl one final time and begins gathering your hair to wrap for processing.

      "I thought it was very sweet how nice they were to me until you took it off." you finish tying the bag off as he wraps his arms around your waist to hook his chin over your shoulder.

    You twist to lean against the counter and throw your arms over his shoulders. You really did miss him this past week. He watches your expression carefully.

"Can I kiss you?"

    "I don’t see any issue, seeing as I can hardly smell you over the ammonia." You both share a smile at his dumb little joke.

But they fade as you both lean in, and he's lucky you're a big fan of slow burns because when your lips meet and his hands slowly slide up your back as he gently presses you into the counter, you're in heaven.

***

After an already irresponsibly long processing time and the urging of your justifiably concerned boyfriend, you close him out of your cluttered bathroom for rinsing and subsequent coloring.

You can hear him puttering about upstairs in your bedroom as you give yourself a cramp in the neck rinsing your head in the tub.

Once the tub is thoroughly stained and the water runs clear, you towel dry your hair, ready to show off the final results.

You make your way upstairs to find your door cracked open and your tv playing some classical music? Alright. You open the door and find Edward giving his damndest to parallel park a car in (insert video game).

You lean against the doorframe, watching for a moment before you identify what his problem is.

"That's not gonna end well man, you got the MadCatz."

"The what?" He says, looking away from the screen to watch you in the doorway. Your eyes stay fixed on the screen.

"MadCatz is the shitty controller brand I give to my little cousins when they come over so they think that they are playing the game. It hardly worked straight out of the box--- you're about to hit that lady."

In the two seconds he spent admiring your new hair, the virtual car had idled far enough to be dangerously close to a pedestrian who was cursing and gesturing wildly at the now unmoving car.

"How do I get her to move?"

"Don't worry about it, just go." You shrug, trying not to laugh. His choice of radio station is really not helping.

"But then the mirror would hit her!"

"Hit her then! She should've moved already!"

"(Y/N) I'm the one on the sidewalk!" he counters, almost genuinely frustrated.

"Just hand it to me." He relents and places the cheap hunk of plastic in your hand as you lay next to him on the bed, facing the tv. He begins to play with your damp hair, admiring the new color in the light from your window.

     But Edwards hands freeze in place when he idly tunes into your thoughts and faster than you have done anything in your entire life, you yank the controller under your chest and awkwardly crush your arms as the player character exits the car and pulls out a baseball bat.

"(Y/n), give me the controller." he's awkwardly hovering his hands around your body, considering the best plan of attack that doesn't involve intimate contact.

The angry woman stumbles back when she meets the player character's crazed glare, but continues yelling obscenities. And with one mighty swing, she is forcibly moved away from the car and collapses onto the curb.

You begin to cackle as you get back into the car and speed off down the road. Over the soaring orchestra on the radio and your own evil laughter, you fail to notice Edward has gone quiet beside you.

You park the car under a bridge as the cops begin their search and turn to hand back the now sweaty controller.

Only to be immediately tackled to your sheets.

His hands pin your wrists to the mattress as he hovers over you and your laughter dies down.

"You are ridiculous," he pauses to kiss the tip of your nose "but this color suits you. "

"Did you manage to set this up with Alice? This song is  pretty romantic."

And then he's kissing you with an almost reckless abandon, taking your already limited breath away almost instantly as you both get caught up in the motions of close contact.

Until a sharp pang and a flash from the television breaks your concentration and your lips with a sharp as you strain your neck to see what the issue is.

When your vision adjusts, Edward is already pressing his face into the mattress beside you in muffled laughter, and you can't help but join in along with him, even as the now dead man onscreen falls to the ground in slow motion gray-scale.

#twilight imagine #edward cullen x reader #reader insert #midnight sun #oneshot #fluff #edward x reader #forks #jasper x reader #mwahahaha #jasper hale x reader #my stuff

[cheesydoesitstevie]

Unlikely Trio

Summary: Reader ends up on an Elevator with Bucky and Sam. 

Warnings: none really. Maybe a little violence. Not sure what I was going for with this. Was inspired by an Asian ad. 

Something inside you was dying for some excitement, anything to break up this mundane routine you had fallen into. The bell dinged as the elevator stopped prematurely a few floors before the lobby. Calm classical sounding music played softly throughout the gold decorated elevator. The doors slides open and two large men stepped in. Both of them were dressed pretty casually yet they looked as if they were headed somewhere important. They seemed familiar, you weren’t quite sure where you had seen them before. They definitely weren’t movie stars. You needed a better look but didn’t want to be caught staring.

One quick glance wouldn’t hurt, study as much as you could within a few seconds. Your eyes lit up and something snapped in your brain. They were the Avengers. Well what was left. You remembered something about Sam Wilson aka the Falcon taking over as Captain America and his partner was Bucky more well known as The winter soldier. Sam nods at you and smiles awkwardly. You bit your lip turning to look down at the floor before a crazy thought pops into your head. You pull your hood up over your hair. Unsure of why this was essential to your idea. Timidly you turn towards Bucky, he looks you up and down while Sam’s face contorts displaying his confusion in his eyebrows.

“Can I join you guys?”

“Sure. Just follow my lead.” Bucky replied facing back towards the doors.

“Wait. No! Absolutely not!” Sam looks at Bucky like a parent silently scolding a child.

“What?” Bucky asks with a shrug his tone indicating that he doesn’t see what the big deal is.

“C’mon man. She’s a civilian.”

“I have pepper spray and a knife.” You hold out the knife as the pepper spray dangles from a keychain that’s wrapped around your wrist.

“See Sam, she has a knife.” Bucky holds his gloved hands out as if he’s showing off the knife in a showcase.

Sam quickly becomes more annoyed, not sure why Bucky is humoring this clearly insane young woman. He looks her over before shaking his head and trying to ignore his idiot partner. Through gritted teeth Sam tries to speak so that only Bucky hears him.

“Dude, we’re after Zemo right now. It’s not the time to play adopt a civilian.” Bucky pretended to ignore everything Sam said.

You hold the knife and various ways that you had seen on Tv, Bucky only encourages you more. He pulls out his own knife and begins to twirl it around. You watch in awe as he flips it up with his right hand before catching it in his left.

A gruff sigh of disapproval leaves Sam’s mouth as you and Bucky compare knives. He tries to teach the same twirling technique he just showed you. You drop the knife a few times, each time Bucky caught it mid air just before it hit the ground. The elevator slows and the number lights up. This is where the guys are getting off. Sam shoots Bucky one last warning glare before moving to exit the lift.

“It was nice to meet you...”

“Y/N.” You say extending your hand to Sam. He shakes it politely and then turns to leave.

You feel little pang of sadness strike your heart as you watch Bucky’s frame move through the doorway. Soon the doors will close and the most exciting moment in your life will be over. Bucky looks back and nods his head towards the hallway. The feeling of butterflies shoot through you. You struggle to contain the excitement that is surging through your veins.

“Stay behind me.” Bucky whispers pushing you gently behind him.

Sam walks a few feet a head. They’re closing in on the target. The hallway is long and with cheaply painted white walls. A few large windows cast a natural light on the eerily silent and empty hall. Its the middle of the day but suddenly the feeling of a dark and creepy abandoned building starts to creep up over skin. Pebbling it in goosebumps as the hair on the back of your neck starts to stand. You weren’t sure when Bucky had grabbed your hand, now that you were aware of it made you feel a little better. Your fingers lightly squeezed his hand feeling your own heart beat thump in your chest as the sound of blood rushed through your ears.

Bucky turned to side slightly glancing at you through his peripherals. He nodded and pulled you closer to his back. He used his other hand to put one finger over his lips. You understood the message and nodded. Swallowing quietly in anticipation about what was going to unravel here.

Sam paused outside of a door that read 201. He looked up signaling for Bucky to take the same position on the other side of the door. Sam made eye contact with you and his face flushed with anger. He cursed Bucky under his breath. Bucky seemed to be un-phased by anything going on with Sam.

Everyone grew quiet listening for life on the other side of the door. The news could be heard softly playing in the background. A mans voice muffled through the television murmured on about events going on in New York City. A clanking of dishes let Bucky know that Zemo was definitely home.

He nodded to Sam, letting go of your hand and slipping his gun from the back of his pants. Sam turned like he was about to kick the door in. You drastically yet silently shook your head no and both men paused to see what the problem was. Bucky was curious while Sam grew more and more impatient with whole charade.

Pulling yourself up on Tiptoes you whispered into Bucky’s ear. Bucky nodded agreeing that was a better idea. He waved the gun towards Sam indicating he wanted Sam to go back to his previous position. To everyone’s surprise Sam did and waited for his cue.

Bang. Bang.

The room behind the door fell silent and everyone seemed to hold their breath listening waiting for a response.

“Maintenance.” Bucky yelled through the door. There was a moment of silence everyone seemed to be holding their breath. 

“I didn’t call for anything.” A mans voice echoed from the other side of the door. He was close enough to be heard but not close enough to touch the door. Sam considered he might be armed and waiting for them to kick the door down.

“We’re checking all the units. Some of the pipes burst.” Bucky called out again. They were met with another long silence before the door lock clicked and slid out of place. Zemo peeked out behind the chain lock of the door.

Bucky gave minimal effort in kicking the door in. The chain snapped as if it were made of paper, pieces exploded everywhere as the door slammed Zemo backwards into the wall. His nose and head were bleeding now. He still tried to run but Sam was on him quickly knocking him to the ground.

You watched from the busted door frame as Sam pinned the man down. Bucky slapped some high tech looking cuffs on the man and pulled him to his feet. As they passed by Zemo gave you a quizzical look. It wasn’t out of place. You were the one in a situation you should of never been in. Unsure of what to do you followed them as they moved Zemo down the stairs.

They went down past the lobby and headed towards the floor that led to the parking garage. The car was red and fast, leaving minimal space in the back seat. Bucky stood holding onto Zemo looking at you and then at the back seat. Sam rolled his eyes gesturing that the obvious answer was to ditch you. Bucky figured out his own plan and unlocked the car. clicking the trunk open. Zemo tried to resist but Bucky easily shoved him into the trunk. 

Zemo’s complaints were muffled through the car yet the still echoed in the concrete garage. Bucky escorted you to the back seat while Sam gave him the death glare. 

“What the hell are you doing?” 

“Waiting to leave.” Bucky shrugged tossing Sam the keys before ducking into the drivers seat. 

“Where do you live?” Sam asked being done with the whole situation he was eager to get rid of you, so he could go home and be alone. 

“Oh, I live-” 

“She’s coming with us.” Bucky intervened knowing that you lived in the building that they had just plucked Zemo from. Sam let out a big sigh pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“You live on the upper floor of this apartment complex don’t you?” You said nothing and remained seated in the back.

“Fuck it!” Sam said throwing his hands in the air before he started the car and slid into reverse. 

“She’s your responsibility.” Sam warned Bucky he was not going to be liable for anything that happened to you. 

“She’s not a cat.” 

“Well you sure are treating her like one.”

“It’s just us at the Avengers complex we could use another person there.” 

“I kind of wish I was the only one there.” Sam and Bucky continued to fight like a married couple. You watched amused from the back having more fun than you thought you would going on this little adventure. 

The drive was long as you went from one side of New York out to the more rural part of New York. At some point you had dozed off in the back seat. You woke to Bucky gently shaking you awake from the open door. 

“We’re here doll.” You clumsily stepped out of the car, taking the hand that Bucky had offered you. 

The place was more stunning than you could have ever imagined. Never in your life had you seen such a high tech and expensive place. The design of the whole building was unique with the large Avengers symbol in front and a huge helicopter pad to your right. 

“We have to take Zemo somewhere. we will be back.” Bucky lead you into the building.

Bucky started to head back out. Thats when you realized you were standing in the middle of the Avenger’s living room. You sat down on the couch taking a deep breath in. How many times had they all sat here, laughing and talking. Did they watch movies or shows together? What is a show they would of all agreed on?

Silence filled the air and the place seemed unbelievably large. It would definitely be easy to get lost. You thought about how sad it might be for Bucky and Sam. Everyone they used to live with her was now gone. You heard the stories about Captain America, Ironman and Black widow. The thought of them all not being here now set a deepness in your heart.

You wondered where Wanda was, it would of made sense if she stayed here with them. Either way you wanted to take full advantage of being a guest here while it lasted. You decided to explore respectfully. Setting up simple rules for yourself. No searching any bedrooms and don’t touch anything in the labs, just look. That is if you could get in most places.

You had so many questions yet you didn’t want to bring up anything that would be a sensitive subject for Bucky or Sam.

#Bucky Barnes #sam wilson #Falcon and Winter soldier. #Sebastian Stan #anthony mackie #The Avengers #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson x reader

[worldsfirstgayknife]

HI YES I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR MORE ABOUT KNICKLE

christmas present to myself; infodumping about knickle

OK SO first of all their surface level dynamic of 'two gamer bros, one is grumpy and one is goofy' is already excellent. i can make so many gamer jokes. i can make so many bro jokes. its amazing.

but their FULL dynamic makes me go bonkers and become gay. 'two bros. one is an emotionally repressed jerk with a secret soft side thats trying to better himself. the other is a goofy and ditzy gamer whos mellowed out due to a traumatic experience and is trying to recover. the jerk cares about the gamer to a degree he hasn't shown to any other character on the show, and the gamer, due to the advice given to him by the jerk, has been able to make an effort towards moving on from his old friend that sent him into a depressive spiral. they also play video games together' like THATS SO GOOD *passes out*

i started liking knickle before episode 13 + 14 came out when the only meaningful connection they'd really had was the scene from episode 7. it was mostly me being like "knife was nice to him and seemed to genuinely care about helping him even though he usually doesn't do that. kinda gay ngl." which was pretty awesome of me. but now that knife berated taco about abandoning pickle and asked mic to say hi to pickle on his behalf... that scene was definitely not a one off thing of him doing a random act of kindness. he cares about the pickle and still thinks about him.

AND IT MAKES SENSE THAT HE DOES!! knife is the most critical of the show and takes the most note of the way that it affects people. and pickle is arguably the character that has undeservedly been hurt the most by the show. knife is like you deserve better than the world has given you bro. i love you bro. but even besides knowing and caring about what pickles going thru, given that they hung out together inbetween seasons and that he wanted to say hi to him, knife seems to just. genuinely like pickle and enjoy his company. which is probably more reason why he would care about helping him out. cries.

so besides the fact that knife genuinely cares about and wants to help pickle, he's also benefited from being so willing to do so. the episode 7 scene was the first time in the show he had extended kindness to anyone, and in the two other notable times he's extended kindness and given advice to people... id argue its because they reminded him of pickle?

my friend rib did a sick knife analysis which kinda goes over this but like. knife notices suitcase distressed over the way shes been treated by her alliance. kinda like pickle. and its even more more obvious with mic, he's more adamant about mic getting out of the alliance because he knows what SPECIFICALLY taco did to her last alliance member, and doesn't want her to do that again. but he can never seem to be as genuine as when he gave more direct advice (albeit as a metaphor) to pickle. his advice to suitcase is very vague (wtf does make your presence known even MEAN bro) and their conversation is more him pointing out the behavior of the alliance that he thought was apparent. and with mic, he sees his efforts as favors, and a combination of spiting taco and keeping mic from going thru what pickle did. pickle is where knife's advice character arc started, and pickle is where it's presumably ended (is that what you said to pickle, say hi to pickle for me). pickle makes knife want to be a better person. cries again.

and though theres less to say and analyze since he hasnt. had any frickign lines for 6 years (im so excited for letters to get a comic dub you have no idea), pickle has benefited from knife being there for him and giving him helpful advice. he replaced the photo of him and taco and has been more willing to forgive and trust, like with balloon, and if not for knife, there's... no telling if anyone would've noticed what he was going through and tried to help him, or if he'd be willing to open up to OJ after the events of episode 7 kept him from doing so. which makes me so frickin sad man.

and this is jsut me projecting and being soft. but. the thought of, after all the shit he went through on and after the show, after being pushed aside by everyone, pickle getting to be with someone that changed for the better and cares about him from a place of genuine compassion? as opposed to taco, who changed for the worse and only pretended to care about him for her own gain? holy moly im gay. pickle deserves a happy ending after being treated so badly, and knife deserves one too. and i think it would be so sweet if a happy ending for them meant they'd have it together.

THIS IS MOSTLY JSUT MY DUMB THOUGHTS ON THE CONTENT IN THE SHOW rather than like. headcanons like a normal person. oh god. basically despite them being apart they care about each other, make each other better people, and their relationship makes for plenty of fun and comedy as well as a lot of tenderness and mutual love + support.

also ive honestly? kinda come to terms with it maybe being harder to get into knickle due to the lack of content in the show. and its definitely my favorite partially because i love overanalyzing stuff and take a lot away from things that are implied or subtext. which is also partially why i love pickle, hes has a lot of cool emotional stuff goin on that hasn't really been explored and i find a lot of joy in thinkin about him!! anyways if you read all of this i am so sorry

#long post #knickle #my number one talent is overanalyzing media to make it gay . #theyre basically that one tiktok of those two guys watching the steve smash reveal and kissing when he breaks through the wall

[la-li-lu-le-lol]

okay would you be willing to rank the sneaking suits?

Yes, I would, a lot. This is gonna be image-heavy and will go under a cut because I want to at least try to appear dignified and normal on the surface.

In order of most to least favorite.

1. MGS2

This suit, yall. this fuckin suit. Jesus christ. I feel like it's meant to look good more than it's meant to be functional, and BOY HOWDY DOES IT DO A GOOD JOB OF LOOKING GOOD. I think we all know Kojima thinks tactical gear is hot, and that's all kind of here. But like, it doesn't look *trashy*. I'm into ladies too and tbh I don't really mind the whole bikini armor thing, but I will admit that bikini armor is annoying because it’s usually trashy-looking. It is much, much more attractive when someone's gear is sexy while still being tastefully subtle about it and thats what THIS is, on a man instead of a woman too, which gets it rarity bonus points.

Like. For real. and it just looks so GOOD on him too, you know? Combined with the long hair and bandana... /chin-hands/ perfect character design. hottest thing ever. eternal fangirl until I die.

(using a pic of this figma because it’s detailed in a way mgs2 isn’t) You know. It just kinda leads your eye around. There's a way in which his vest slopes down his back with the location of the drawstrings that makes it look like a corset. There's a way in which the straps on his legs extend downward from his vest that makes it look like garters. Like it's all there, and I'm 95.8276 percent sure it was deliberate.

If I can pull my head out of the gutter for a second. I also really like how this suit is kinda ambiguous blue-teal-grey colored. Mgs2 does an interesting thing with the lighting where the color of this suit kinda changes depending on the temperature of the lighting that is hitting it, whether it contains more cool or warm colors, the suit kinda shifts with it. I really like that detail because it feels tactically sound, like a precursor to the octocamo.

Anyway.

2. PO/PW/GZ

Woof woof bark bark. Sometimes I wish that the mgs2 suit was a lot darker in color because I think dark colors are sexy, and this suit takes care of all that for me while still having a bunch of tasty eye-leading design that differentiates it from everything else. The splash of color on the gold bands and green harness is a great touch and almost gives this a sort of "wetsuit" vibe? I also really like the drawstrings on the sides of the arms and legs. This design is super good. Big Boss more like Big Sigh while my eyes turn into hearts.

3. MGS1

The suit that started it all. This one definitely leans a lot more towards the "functional" rather than "sexy" side of the scale in part because of the elbow-knee pads and the thermal vest. TBH for a bit I didn't like this suit a whole lot because I always thought it fit him weird, mostly because the model in Twin Snakes was my only non-polygon reference for it and it just wasn't that good, imo. But then I saw this render...

and this figurine:

my opinion changed and now I love it, it's so COOL LOOKING. All it needs is a bit of a more modern render in order for you to fully appreciate it, imo!!

I think this suit is the most badass out of the bunch, kind of the most "I mean serious business" out of the bunch, and naturally, that = sexy. I think also that Snake having short hair with a bulkier suit is a great character design contrast, similiar to how in mgs2 he grew out his hair longer which contrasted with the sleeker mgs2 suit. Shinkawa knows what’s good.

4. MGS4

Old Snake's suit, oh, Old Snake's suit. MGS4 was the game where people really started noticing and talking about how much emphasis was placed on his ass, which looks fucking fantastic for his age might I add. Besides that, this suit design was always super interesting to me because of how it feels like an All-In-One sort of thing, and how its lines and such kind of mimic muscles and sinew.

(courtesy of our favorite mgs4 documentarian @youlltrytobreakmetoo) It seems like a very carefully-constructed suit with a ton of thought and effort put into its design. It is not as much to my personal taste like more traditional-looking gear is, but it's still very cool looking! The load-bearing vest up top isn't my favorite thing either but I appreciate it design-wise as a contrast in the silhouette. I also love the octo-camo. It's such a neat idea, and all the patterns look great. I particularly like the black Metals one and the really dark navy blue one.

5. MGSV

Venom Snake is a straight up hunky beefcake who will look great in anything you put on him. Absolute legend. I do personally prefer him in his usual outfit but he also looks real good in the sneaking suits. While the GZ suit is an option here, This entry is more about the black and grey sneaking suit that is an option in TPP, which I thiiiink is meant to be a rehash of the mgs1 suit?

(Oh god, that image is smaller than I thought, sorry for the blurriness.) I think it looks good on him but it, in my opinion, needs more color and distinguishing design features. It needs to be a little more design-y and a little less functional. But it doesn’t have anything that I hard dislike on it so it’s still not last.

6. MGS3 black sneaking suit

Unpopular opinion? maybe.

Not saying this doesn't look cool on Naked Snake. It does. It does!!!! But I really don't like the puffiness on the sleeves and legs. I know they were going for an astronaut vibe, but that just doesn’t tick any boxes for me. I think that the design also just feels a little out of place in mgs3 in general, I'm so used to Snake wearing his fatigues that him wearing anything else is just weird. The orange is a cool pop of color though, so it gets some style points. But lose the weird puffs pls, and lose the grey. Put this boy back in his fatigue suspenders, please, or stick him in the PW suit.

HONORABLE "WTF" MENTION: PW suit with the dick suspenders and these... grenade pattern... thigh high boots?! holy shit.

OKAY WHEW THAT TOOK ME FOREVER AND i HOPE SOMEONE BESIDES ME LIKES MY DUMB THOUGHT DUMPS. LOVE YALL, I NEED TO GO TO SLEEP NOW LMAO.

#metal gear solid #i know im missing a few but im tired. lmao.

[sunflowerandco]

After the Fact: Act IV - Resolve

Act I / Act II / Act III

Rating: M/T 

        Courtney put the finishing touches on her final history paper. She had spent the better half of her morning, not to mention the week, perfecting the last portion of her thesis statement equipped with a counterargument and conclusion to complete. With her last task being editing, she gave herself five minutes to look at her phone. She noticed an abundance of messages from an assumed-to-be-hungover Bridgette in the aftermath of her bachelorette party.

         thanks for taking me home court

         at least i assume u took me home

         i don't remember much haha

         Courtney chuckled as she read the amount of mind gymnastics Bridgette put herself through. The coffee she attempted to sip on was beyond cold at this point.

         Yes, that was me lol. Rest up for tomorrow's rehearsal dinner.

         She shifted her focus to her laptop again before she heard their bedroom door close, and footsteps grow closer. Duncan entered the living room with his flannel half-buttoned, and his hair still wet from the shower. She remembered his excitement from the other day about having two new clients book appointments at the tattoo shop for today, and figured he was getting ready to head out. "Morning, Princess. How's the paper going?" She responded with her eyes still on the screen, studying each sentence's legitimacy.

         "I'm done actually! Now all it needs is a little polishing."

         "Even after being partying all of last night?"

         "Luckily, I never get drunk to the point where I can't function the next day," Courtney stretched her arms out. "And can still tend to my maid of honor duties." Duncan caught her wrists by his hand in a flirtatious effort to get her attention, encouraging a longer break from her extensive work. She had been going at it for nearly four hours before he walked in. He had no intention of breaking her focus earlier, but this moment was an exception.

         Courtney looked at him over her shoulder signaling for him to let go and placed her fingers on the keyboard again. "What about you? Were you handling the 'best man' title properly?" Duncan smirked before teasing her. "I am. But I could hardly focus with all the attention I was getting last night." Courtney rolled her eyes while he added on. "How was the club last night?"

         Courtney played up her response to throw him off. "Oh, nothing. The usual strip club activities. Drinks flowing, ass and abs in your face," She turned to face him over her shoulder again. "Bridgette and the girls seemed to really enjoy themselves."

         Duncan hunched over to the level of her desk chair, placing his hands on her shoulders. "They can't do this though," he said softly in her ear. He kissed slowly down her neck and Courtney's head automatically tilted to the left to give him better access. She still tried to keep her eyes on her paper, but the lower his hands went down her arms, the more her concentration wavered. She inaudibly gasped when she felt his fingers cling to the hem of her shirt, his knuckles grazing her sides. His voice still rang softly in her ear. "Want me to stop?" Duncan faced her and waited for her answer.

         Courtney shook her head no, and Duncan's hands made their way underneath her shirt and lightly brushed up and down her waist. His lips traveled from her neck to her shoulder, and his hands brushed up once more before they cupped her breasts. She gasped lightly at the sensation the pattern of his thumbs circling gave. Every flick sent shocks down to her core. She could barely get his name out of her mouth.

         "Duncan..." She could feel him smirking against her neck, and she rolled her eyes.

         "Tell me what you want." His hands remained under the tight fabric of her shirt. Truth be told, he wanted her since last night. Being surrounded by other women just made him want Courtney even more. His mind filled with visuals of the two of them, and he couldn’t, would never complain.

         It increasingly became more prevalent to Duncan that he didn't want to see anyone else the way he saw Courtney. It had been that way for five years, and he couldn't see it changing at all.

         "Take me. On the couch."

         In one motion Duncan turned the chair on its wheels so that she was facing him. He wrapped one arm around her waist and one hand to the back of Courtney's thigh. Courtney was finally at eye level with him, and her hands cupped his face when she hungrily drew kisses on his lips, lightly tugging on his lower lip with her teeth. When she let go, he planted soft kisses on her inner thighs. Duncan had every intention to burn her tension away to construct new pressure by some incredibly desirable design. Courtney lied back when they heard her phone ring on the desk. Duncan sighed and loosened the grip he had on her thighs when her attention shifted.

         She reluctantly got up from the couch to see Bridgette's name flash across the screen, and she picked it up to answer. "Hello?" She was met with a panicked, hasty voice on the line. Bridgette's words seemed to all get launched into the air at the same time.

         "Courtney! I really need you! I woke up to go to the bathroom and I tried to take my ring off before going in the shower and it's not on my finger!" Courtney tried her best to calm her down and retrace her steps.

         "Okay, okay, Bridgette. Slow down. It could've fallen off somewhere in your place. Or in your bed?"

         "No I swear I looked everywhere! What if I l-left it at the club or something?"

         "Then, we'll look there. We'll look everywhere we can, okay? Do you need me to pick you up?"

         "Yes"

         "Okay, then I'll be there in twenty minutes. See you soon." Courtney set her phone down and took a deep breath. Duncan made his way to her to rub his hands along her arms. "Go ahead. You have maid of honor duties, and I have to go head to the shop." She gave him a peck before turning to their bedroom to get dressed.

         "Don't forget where we left off! And good luck today!" Duncan wouldn't forget feeling extremely lucky in their version of a predicament.

                                                         ***

         Courtney entered their apartment after having dropped off Bridgette once again from a panic-filled escapade that ended in good resolve. Her ring was found, back on her finger, and all each had to worry about was the rehearsal dinner happening on the next day. Courtney was more than prepared for the day.  She was already looking forward to a night on the couch before another eventful day.

         Courtney dumped her purse on the table in the hallway preceding the living room. She could make out that the lights were on, but it was eerily quiet. She called out for him.

         "Babe? Are you in there?"

         Duncan affirmed in a low voice. "Yeah. I'm in here."

         When she walked into the living room, she found Duncan sitting on the couch. His head was down, and he was covering one side of his face with his hand. She hastily walked up to him and gently lifted his head by his chin to see fresh, major discoloration around his right eye that extended down to his cheek. His bright teal eyes stared into Courtney's earnestly. She instinctively opened her mouth in shock.

         "What happened to you?" Courtney quickly turned on her heels. She grabbed an ice pack from the freezer and placed it above his cheek. He took hold of it before he started talking.

         His voice remained as low as possible. His explanation was simple, but he couldn't express it simply. His tone seethed with unresolved anger. "I got in a fight at the shop." He got up from the couch and his back toward Courtney.

         "A fight?! What the hell were you thinking?!" She followed behind him. "You could lose your job doing stuff like that!"

         He finally turned to her in disbelief. "Is that all you care about?!" Courtney couldn't help but feel misunderstood. She was angry at him for misinterpreting; she was angry at herself for her choice of words. It grew harder for her to control the volume of her voice.

         "No! Thats not the case. I just thought you'd learn not to risk good things for yourself and let your anger go for once!"

         They usually bickered. Got under each other’s skin as a way of flirting, but this time felt incredibly different from the others. They could see each other's upset, their words jumbled up and void of understanding for the other's point of view. A passionate need for one to grasp onto the other's words but failing in execution.

         Duncan's desire to explain himself diminished when he realized she already made her assumptions, but he still took offense to Courtney's words. "I’m not gonna be perfectly poised like you, so you can forget that Courtney." There wasn't much more she could say before he passed her to slam their bedroom door shut.

         Courtney got so worked up she holed herself into her studying nook. She read over passages in her textbook until she wasn't thinking about Duncan anymore. One, two, three hours would pass by before she realized midnight had rolled around, and she was five minutes away from falling asleep onto her textbook. She had to join him in bed eventually.

         She peered through the door. The light from the hallway highlighted the curves of Duncan under the comforter. She quietly lied on her side, but still faced the opposite way of him. It was the first and only time she ever felt cold under so many blankets. Courtney closed her eyes tightly and thought of every possible scenario she could imagine until her mind let her slip away.

                                                        ***

         Duncan's eyes fluttered open slowly when the morning sun beamed on his face through the window. He looked next to him to see the girl he pulled in every morning wasn't on her side of the bed. The gel pack he steadily held to his eye for most of the night landed off his body and onto the floor when he lifted the blankets. He left the room, and still no sign of Courtney. He assumed she already met with Bridgette to help prepare the rehearsal dinner.

        Duncan stepped into the bathroom and was reminded of incident that gave him this very bruise. The memory of the conversation before the incident rang in his mind repeatedly. He had followed all the guidelines taught to him by Anya, kept his cool to the best of his ability, and he still managed to fuck up. He managed to mess things up with Courtney.

        "I'm sorry, dude. You're way too drunk. I cannot give you a tattoo."

        Still, he was met with hostility. An angry drunk who wouldn't take no for an answer. He thought about her once.

        "Then what the fuck do you assholes get paid for?! Either you do what I ask, or I'll make you!"

         He was shoved. Punched. He thought about her once more. He knew what she'd say, and situations like these kept her voice in the back of his head. But Duncan had a difficult time facing the habit of establishing this desired image in a new public setting. It worked out for him at times in his youth; hurting before he could get hurt and maintaining the reputation that kept people out of his way. Yes, his job is still intact, and he could thank Anya for her judgement. However, all he saw in the mirror was a mark brought onto him that, in retrospect, wasn't even worth it. The ice prevented it from shutting his eye completely, and only gave his lid a grim, purple hue. All he saw in their room was the empty bed he fell asleep angry and woke up in.

                                                          ***

         Duncan pulled up to the old manor the wedding and dinner were taking place. He stopped short of the fountain that led to the path of the entrance for valet. He opened double doors and was swept into high ceilings, music relevant to the occasion, and too much dark wood. He was seen by a few members of the wedding party, Marie, Chet, and Betty, by the coat room. He gave an efficient wave before realizing why their mouths were agape.

         He gave up and instead walked down another hall, into another room, and there she was. The only woman that could catch his eye when he walked into a room. She had her back turned and was engaged in conversation with Bridgette and their high school classmate, LeShawna. She was wearing that red backless dress she brought home last week; her beautiful, warm skin uncovered. He knew he stared a little too long when Bridgette noticed him from across the room. Bridgette's halt in conversation made Courtney turn around. Their eyes automatically locked, and all the supposed anger expressed the night before didn't matter to him. He wanted to talk to her, to talk things out between them. He could admit they were both hurt in the process, and maturity begets resolve. But he was brought out of his thoughts when Geoff put a hand on his shoulder.

        "Dude! I was looking for you! I need to-" He was cut off when Duncan turned to face him, and his focus ceased. "What the hell happened to you?" Duncan brushed it off, shook his head, and deemed it not worth explaining.

        "Don't worry about it. What did you need?"

        "Last minute question that I totally forgot to ask you: steak or fish?"

        "Uh... steak?"

        "Okay, great! That's what I told the caterers." A voice projected over the loudspeaker.

        "Dinner is now served. Everyone can enter the dining room at this time."

                                                          ***

        After hours of preparation and arranging, Courtney and Bridgette were able to enjoy the venue they spent the entirety of their day in. Courtney stuck to the nervous bride's side throughout conversations she'd have with the wedding party. Of course, they were all people she grew close with over the years, but months of preparation would leave any bride fretful of failure. They were both truly able to relax when LeShawna arrived. They were free to talk and laugh about anything they wanted, and Courtney could take her mind off the one guy she looked around for every now and then. It was a special bond for those who've met in their youth could only describe.

        "Yes, he told me he loved me after throwing up on a Ferris wheel. Thing was going 5 miles per hour!"

        "He did not!" LeShawna said in between laughs. "Why am I just hearing about this now?"

        "To save him from total embarrassment, LeShawna. That's why!" LeShawna turned to Courtney this time.

        "What about you, Courtney? I think we all know Duncan said it first." Bridgette giggled as she added along.

        "Oh my gosh, yes! I remember the day you told me like it was yesterday." Bridgette's voice wavered towards the end of her recollection. "You were so freaked out..." Her eye contact came to a complete stop, and Courtney's curiosity made her head turn.

        That's when she saw him.

        She felt a warm wave flow through her when she noticed his gaze. All the fear that kept her from hopeful thinking vanished after her eyes locked with his in some natural happenstance. He was wearing the black suit jacket and tie they picked out together last week. She hated to admit it, but the bruised eye and darkened knuckles made him even more enticing. Seeing him look for her created this magnetic pull that she couldn't fight off. Both of her friends' comments fell into the background; the sound of their voices fading more and more.

        "His eye doesn't look too bad."

        "The look is actually very on-brand for Duncan."

        Their stare broke when Geoff appeared behind him, and he turned his head. She turned back to her friends slowly as well. She couldn't really say anything, nor did she want to talk about her problems on Bridgette's special weekend, so she just smiled half-heartedly. She had told Bridgette what happened before the guests arrived, but Courtney firmly restricted talking about it when the event started. She was spared of any questions when the loudspeaker ushered the wedding party into the dining room.

        Courtney and LeShawna looked for their name cards in front of seats at the table. They sat down next to each other when Duncan found his own seat across from Courtney at the table while Bridgette and Geoff entered together.

        "Hi everyone! I just wanted to thank all of you for coming tonight and taking on the task of becoming bridesmaids, groomsmen, best man, and maid of honor." Geoff continued this time. "We're really happy to share that my father, the host, has prepared a few words to say tonight." Bridgette sat down next to Courtney in the center, Geoff did the same across from her.

        He stood up from his chair, notecards in his hand, and Courtney gave him her full attention. "Good evening. I'm Daniel Patton, this is my wife, Donna, and we're so thankful you could join us on the eve of Geoff and Bridgette's wedding. I'm so honored to be speaking in front of you all for two people who are very special to me. Way back when my boy was twelve, I knew Geoff was head over heels for Bridgette. He'd never stop talking about her, and he started making changes about himself. I never complained about it because that just meant from now on, he'd shower every day." He paused for a moment while light chuckles filled the room. "If there's one thing you could take away from this lovely couple, it would be their unconditional love for each other." Daniel gestured to them before he continued. "Love, above all, is a choice you make every day when you wake up in the morning." Courtney stared down into her lap as she took in his words. She tried not to remember the flames of her anger that lead her and Duncan to the state of their relationship and couldn't help but blame herself. She felt a light tap on her leg coming from across the table and looked forward. She looked at him and she swore time stopped.

        He'd given her that look before. In times where she got so wrapped up in her own thoughts and couldn't think straight. She was brought back to her bedroom in her frantic search for their clothing and his incredulous ability to bring that sense of calm to her body with just his shirt and a look. She allowed herself to bore into his eyes for this moment as Daniel spoke words of guidance. She felt the dust of her dueling thoughts settle. "You choose the one you're in love with through life's trials and tribulations. Even in the midst of your anger, choose love. It's the ultimate test of strength. Choosing love is the reason I get welcome Bridgette to our family and celebrate the joining of two people who become better every day because of their union." Their exchange came to a halt when Daniel requested everyone to raise a toast to the bride and groom. Still, the feeling radiated in her chest knowing it would all be okay.

                                                          ***

        After the dinner came the afterparty, and as much as Courtney loved her friends, she admittedly needed a minute to give into her introverted nature. She spent the beginning of the event looking for Duncan to find her boyfriend getting swept up to party with the groomsmen. Courtney felt compelled to stop him. To get him to follow her. In an unusual feat, she snuck away to the second floor of the manor and found a balcony in one of the parlors looking over an abundance of mountains. She decided the houses on them always looked better far away. Courtney breathed in deeply and shut her eyes when a light breeze passed. Her head turned at the sound of the voice she wanted to hear all night.

       "Want company?"

        "Duncan, I-"

        "Wait," He pulled her into a warm embrace, buried his face into her neck, and his frame swallowed hers the tighter he held onto her. Courtney sighed mostly in relief, and all the words she suppressed years ago in his car came rushing to her. She needed him to know everything.

        "I'm sorry for the way I expressed my worry. I just saw the black eye and immediately thought about the past. I didn't even ask how it happened." By now they were face to face. "Losing your job is not what I care about most. It's losing you that scares me." She cursed herself when tears brimmed in her eyes. Duncan's hands traveled up to hold her face. "I-I love you so much, Duncan. You're the only person I see with me when I think of my future, and you're never this perfect version of yourself, and neither am I. We're just us, and it's enough." She didn't notice how heavy her breath felt until she let all the words out. He let her go before he started explaining himself.

        "In a way I knew what you meant. Sometimes I just go back to the past, too, knowing there were no real consequences for the shit I did. Detention, suspension, and sometimes juvie. I never really cared. But I've gained too much these past few years to let some loser take it away from me." Duncan could only lay himself bare this way to Courtney. He was always flirtatious, and he had no problem telling her exactly how he felt. "You save my life every time, Princess. If it's me who you want to ruin yours, then I'm your guy." Courtney playfully rolled her eyes at the comment.

        "Please ruin my life, Duncan." Courtney genuinely smiled knowing their lives could go back to how they love it. Duncan wasted no time to express the thought he'd been holding in since last night.

        "Don't have to tell me twice. Also, you can stop pretending my eye doesn't turn you on."

        "I have no idea what you're talking about."

        "Oh, come on, Courtney." Duncan slowly inched closer to her. "You're telling me you don't want me, right here, right now?" Courtney looked him up and down and turned her back on him as she held onto the railing of the balcony.

        She had to admit the clash of his formal wear with his bruises aroused her in every aspect. While her mind kept her too lost in thought to respond, Duncan hunched slightly over her, his hands on her shoulders, and left kisses down her neck with every statement.

        "I want you. I want to pick up where you told me not to forget, and you look incredibly sexy in this dress."

        She turned to face him and kissed him in an ardent haze. Every pattern they drew made her want to deepen the kiss. She ran her tongue lightly across his lower lip, and he parted his lips wider to give her enough space to pour all her love onto him.

        Courtney pulled him in close enough to have her back leaning on the balcony. Duncan had one hand in her hair and another hand on her bare back pressing her against him.

        Courtney stole a moment to look behind them to see no one outside currently. Duncan leaned in, and her hand stood on his chest to slow him down. Her mind jumped back and forth between chasing release in this setting, but she couldn't withstand the pull. "I can't believe I'm saying this... Did you bring protection?"

        "Always do."

        "I hate y- ah!" Courtney yelped as Duncan lifted her over his shoulder from the balcony to the parlor. When Duncan lied her down on the chaise lounge, Courtney sat up to kiss him again. Duncan used one hand to hold her back and the other to loosen his tie. In hushed exchanges and rushed session, Courtney contradicted her words over and over, and knew she would continue to do so for years to come.

A/N: I apologize if this was out of character as i'm still trying to determine their words/choice as adults this far in their relationship. ANYWAY i hope you liked. tell me what you think

#td courtney #duncney #duncney fic

[taechaos]

Idea series oc sneaking Tae in the house after he had big fight with his father about something (your choice if it's smutty or fluff or angsty) with a peek of a vurberable Tae? Honestly i think he would change the topic as soon as he started it and prob with sex.

Anyway I'm really interest in their family dynamic since I remember don't know if it was in part one or two that you mention they have really religious parents? And seeing how harsh their dad is with Taehyung it have me wondering how is his relationship with the mother and ocs with both parents, despite everything the seem really distant from their kids, maybe thats why Tae and YN find comfort in each other. OC is the first real bond Tae made with someone so maybe that's the reason of his fear of being replaced and his obsession with her, and ocs mother probably don't pay that much attention to her so that's why even after the incident she still want him to be there. At this point I'm just rambling I'm sorry. And this ask is all over the place, started with a request and ended questioning characters life 💀💀. Sorry hehe.

when i read this yesterday i was literally blown away by this like hOLY shit your analysis is so in-depth at first i was like damn do my characters have more than oNE DIMENSION?? WHICH IS RLY FLATTERING BUT I THINK ITS JUST UR WORDS THAT MADE ME SOUND SMART 💀💀💀 the ending is chef's kiss tho made me bust a lung SHFJJD thank you so much for taking the time to write this its honestly so fucking amazing. hopefully u can see more of their family dynamic in this drabble :)

Rays of sunlight slither through the cracks in the blinds of the living room, allowing Taehyung's father enough light to scan the newspaper he holds in his hand, with the musical, happy chirping of mockingbirds filling in the silence. All of these beautiful signs of nature and peaceful rotation of the earth makes Taehyung tense up even more.

The moment he got back home from buying drugs, his father greeted him in monotone with a, "would you sit with me for a moment?" and he hasn't spoken since. The zipperbag in his pocket crinkles every time he shifts in his seat, making him cringe momentarily before he starts nervously fidgeting again.

This is so awkward and yet equivalent to hearing: we need to talk. God, why is he so silent?

Clearing his throat, Taehyung stands just as his father flips a page with a lick of his thumb. "I'm going to my room really quick."

"No."

"Oh." When will his step-mother return? She's his only hope as he sits down while avoiding looking at his father, whose gaze is set on the black and white printed pages.

It's only a minute later when he talks without diverting his gaze.

"Your sister is in her room, researching her major to get a headstart on a typical syllabus."

"Smart," he comments with disinterest and nibbles on his upper lip.

"Taehyung, how was your attendance in college?" he folds the newspaper and curiously peeks at his son, who is doing a poor job at hiding his nerves.

"It was alright–"

"Lying is a sin, son," his movements are aristocratic when he leans his chin on his fist. "Don't lie."

"I'm not," he stammers and his eyes flicker, "it was bad at the beginning of the year, but I fixed it."

His father pinches the bridge of nose where his frames lie. "I love your sister, Taehyung," he sighs and takes off his glasses, "I want her to do well. I've given up on you, but her? She can accomplish great things if you're not there to influence her. You're a bad influence. Are you following me?"

Taehyung nods dumbly with a racing heart before registering his words and shaking his head. "What?" he blurts. "I used to help her with her homework all the time–"

"You were home once every month."

"Just because you didn't see me doesn't mean I didn't see her," he coldly says. That's not entirely accurate, but it is true that he saw you more than he saw his parents before he started living here again. For you.

His father is taken aback, offended as he scoffs, "You avoided me and your mother, and yet have the face to stay in our home?" He stands up and passes the coffee table that was Taehyung's only barrier to hover over him with distance. "I expected so much more from you, but you can't even do the bare minimum. An adult without a stable job, respectable girlfriend, and embarrassing grades. I'm ashamed to have raised such a boy, for I can't even call you a man."

Taehyung abruptly stands but he continues, "If you can't even pay rent, go back to that landfill you came from."

"I have to pay rent to live with my family?" He's livid and his hands shake by his sides; they're taking you away from him because what? He isn't the son they wanted him to be?

"You've made it clear that the only thing keeping you here is my daughter," he blindly points at the closed door of your room, "and you will have to try much harder to see her again. Get your life together, and you can come back."

Taehyung's face is heated with anger from the injustice. "What the fuck?! This is such bullshit; you're kicking me out?"

His father frowns at his language, growling, "Taehyung! I will not let you drag her down that path with you. When you stop destroying everything you touch, I'll gladly let you live here."

Destroy? He hasn't done any harm to anyone—especially not you. He knows he's self-destructive, but it doesn't extend to his environment. If he fails, it's his failure, but his father takes it personally instead of encouraging him to do better.

The importance of reputation and success in this family enrages him; he's aware that he's not much of an affectionate person either, but a little love wouldn't hurt to witness in the household.

Instead of defending himself or speaking his mind, he obliges bitterly.

"You need to get laid," are his last words before he slams the door and opens the zipper bag to pop a pill. Ecstasy isn't so fun when you're not around, but he can use the distraction. It's been a bad day.

He flips off a stray cat idling around the garden before casually leaving the property.

—————

Studying isn't fun for you, never has been, never will be. Though you hate every second of it, it does give you something to do to make time pass faster. You've been tutoring yourself about things you'll learn sooner or later anyway, but you guess it doesn't hurt to have to study less when the time comes.

You check the time. It's approaching night at 9 PM, and your father wouldn't protest against a break now, hopefully. He only suggested that you should start studying, but you know what his suggestions really mean.

Do it, or get shamed into doing it with subtle glances.

As if that isn't enough, he constantly checked up on you throughout the day. He wasn't exactly giving you a choice, which irks you.

But that's done and over with, and there's a more pressing matter at hand: where is Taehyung? You heard bits and pieces of the argument, but you couldn't get the whole scoop. You worry he's going to go back to his old habits of never being here, rarely seeing you. He would've been hanging out with you six hours ago out of routine... It can't just be you being clingy. Something happened.

You: are you coming home tonight?

The response takes a few minutes.

taehyung: nop

taehyung: but i am coming to ur room

taehyung: cuz ik u cant sleep without me 😖

You: actually the opposite but ok lol

You: when are you coming

taehyung: whenever u want uwu

You: uwu...?

You: just come before it gets too late

—————

So that was a lie. It's 1 AM and still no word from Taehyung. Okay, maybe you're just being clingy now, but it's unlike him not to be clingy. Maybe he wanted to cool off for a long time after his tak with your step-dad, or simply wanted to hang out with his friends after spending all of his time with you.

That makes sense. What doesn't is the slide of your window and shuffling of your curtains. You instantly sit up in your bed and clutch your blanket closer. You watch a silhouette enter your room as you pick up your limp, your tense muscles relaxing only when you recognize the intruder. You put down the lamp with a click of your tongue, ignoring the relief in your pounding heart.

"Hey," he stupidly grins at you. He looks disheveled, clothes untucked and wrinkled, and from the little light you have, you can see his redshot eyes.

"There's also the door," you remark sassily. "Are you um... high?"

He shrugs and crawls in your bed, dismissive as usual. You both make an effort to keep your voices quiet.

"I talked to mom earlier," you ease into the discussion until he butts in.

"That's great."

You roll your eyes and prop an elbow to look down at him. His head lies on his hands while staring at you, mood strangely upbeat. He's definitely high.

"She was a little sad about something, and I know it involves you. I heard you talking to–" You're interrupted with a lingering peck, a little rough in its force but not unwelcomed.

"I've missed kissing you. Shouldn't you be asleep, by the way?"

Recovering from the unexpected attack, you reply, "It's not that late. I don't have to wake up early."

"You shouldn't ruin your sleep schedule," he tucks a hair strand behind your ear without taking his eyes off of you. "Staying up is hard to stop once you start."

"Yeah, you're a great example," you joke with a quiet giggle. Whispering with him feels intimate in a heart fluttering way. His heart pangs with a feeling he can't put a finger on. "You didn't answer my question."

"Hm?"

"Don't play dumb, I'm really curious. What happened with dad?"

"A lot of things happen with dad," he shrugs, "sometimes we play catch–"

"Taehyung," you give him a pointed look, and he giggles.

"You're right, he'd never play catch with me." He groans as he stretches in your bed before trapping you with his arms on either side of you in one motion. You don't know what he's trying to do, but you watch him above you in amusement. "No offence, but when is your mom not sad when my dad is around?" he laughs with a huff.

"That's rude, Tae," you remark seriously, "she's happy when you're around."

Taehyung's smile falters like yours, his happy guise crumbling when he says, "Are you?"

"Pfft," you roll your eyes, "What do you think? I was up waiting for you."

Ah. That's not a very good influence.

"I'm here now," he whispers, "go to sleep. It's okay, I won't do anything, I know you worked hard today."

You agree with a yawn and nod. But even in your sleepy state, you can read the room—Taehyung is especially attentive of his tone and volume aside from being so tense. "Are you alright?"

"I'm in and on ecstasy," he falls back on his former spot, "I can't not be alright."

"Taehyung, I haven't seen you all day–"

"Yeah, because I didn't want to be here," he looks at you dead in the eye, "and I don't want you to be here."

You blink rapidly, slightly shaking your head in confusion, "What are you saying?"

"Move in with me."

He's met with cold silence, so he persuades persistently, "Don't you want to get away from here? You'll have so much more freedom with me, and I can help you with your assignments and everything. It'll be perfect."

"I— do you... Where?" Taehyung is high and he doesn't know what he's saying is what you believe because this is so out of the blue, so irrational, but he describes it like it's utopia; you are not completely against the idea.

"I have enough money from drug dealing to rent an apartment, and you can tell dad that you want to move out to be like an adult or whatever, that you have a stable job, without mentioning me," he rambles, and his dilated pupils are more noticeable up close; it slightly puts you off.

"Wh-what about mom?"

He scoffs, "If she wants out, she can get her second divorce. Don't worry about them; after all, they're apparently the only real adults here," he relates back to not being worthy of being called a man. You shift away from him little by little. "Just trust me."

The phrase is triggering for you, a reminder of the time you were tricked into trusting him moments before your trauma. "We'll talk about this when you're sober," you meekly say, avoiding eye contact.

A wicked smile grows on his face, "I can't wait, princess."

#idea tae #*cue big time rush theme* #just gotta say this one last time #the analysis was so well written #its honestly a sight for sore eyes 😫

[to00ch]

May I have a headcanon of the dorm leaders reacting to a male mc who told them about his past surgery that removed his lung due to his health issues. It happened after the dorm leaders noticed he's always out of breath during physical activities.

Hi anon yess i’ll try my best to do this gdhshs sorry if its not what you meant aaaa (´；ω；`)

Riddle rosehearts

he clenches his fists and scolds MC “you should’ve told us earlier >:(“

we’ve seen how he is when handling a sick friend

Worry wart, he immediately goes to find articles and journals on your condition so he can help you in any way

Always makes sure you don’t push yourself but tries to keep it as subtle as possible so you dont feel too uncomfortable

“Hey if you need me to slow down, just tell me okay? Don’t overdo it”

MC is like??? Riddle its okay I’m fine???

Post PE riddle will keep an eye on MC in case anything were to happen

Leona Kingscholar

yawns when you were telling him bout your condition but its not cause he’s bored, its cause hes sleepy!!

Tries not to care but couldn’t help himself from thinking bout it in his room

“He can’t use magic and now he’s pretty sick? Talk about bad luck man”

Asks ruggie if he can do anything bout it to which ruggie teases him for caring bout someone

Actually would go to PE cause he’s worried in case anything happens and he does things in a slow pace so he could still keep an eye on you

“Don’t get the wrong idea, I’m just lazy to put any effort in doing this thats why im at this pace”

Azul Ashengrotto

Has a “ah I see” look on his face

“Well if you want me to do something bout it I can, obviously for a price”

MC says can’t expect genuinely nice things from stingy tako huh

Secretly he’d ask his servants to keep an eye on you or else he’d extend their servings

Floyd and Jade pretty much become MC’s bodyguard (or babysitter whichever floats the boat)

“If you need any medication tell me, but you’ll have to pay me back”

No thanks stingy tako but gets shoved w necessary medications anyway

Kalim Al-Asim

“WH A T???? NoOOOO :(((“

Himb becomes the light of the situation and tells mc that he’d piggyback mc during PE

MC says i’ll end up piggybacking you, Kalim

Also offers to buy you an animal so you can ride it all the time

Jamil says no idiot that’s not allowed

Kalim is the biggest sweetheart there so he’ll constantly pamper mc to which mc tells him to stop cause its overwhelming and he’s okay as long as he doesn’t overdo it

“Okay! But if you ever need anything just say the word, I’ll become your genie”

Vil Schoenheit

“Goodness me! Dear, please make sure you get well rested”

I guess he’d nag mc a lot if he ever overdo himself

“Please prioritise your health, its part of your presentation too, are you aware of that?”

Cares a lot and showcases it by nagging, hes a mom

Idia Shroud

“F in the chat mc”

Persuades you to stay w him in dorms and not go to outdoor classes cause he Hates them

“You see this is why you shouldn’t go out”

Mc says idia that’s not a valid reason i can still manage myse-

“But what if you collapse? What if there’s suddenly so many people you become uncomfortable and overwhelmed and-“ he goes on non-stop

But if you manage to drag him out he will make an effort to actually do sports with you as much as he Hates it, but cause its mc and he cares bout him so he’d do it as much as he’d do something for ortho

Malleus Draconia

he’s not there when you told the dorm leaders

Mc says malleus remember when I told you bout my lung condition?

“Lung condition? When did you ever-“

Ah— you weren’t there sorry i forgot

Malleus sulks a lil while but upon finding out he orders faes and mythical beings to care for mc and look out for mc whenever he’s not around.

If mc gets stuck on a hospital bed again he’ll use magic to entertain mc

“Even if I can’t be there all the time or my presence is forever too strong for people to casually invite me, I’d still be there for you invited or not”

Mc says malleus that’s pretty sweet bro

#twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst #twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia

[arcticdementor]

Other possible Holocausts: why pro-lifers are lying to us, and why thats a good thing

…

Ive had a running argument over the past few years that the raw lack of anti-abortion terrorist action proves no one really thinks abortion is murder, ie. intentional 1st degree murder of a life equal to yours or mine.

Ive always gotten pushback to quote WillyWang:

The "revealed preference" of those that oppose abortion but don't firebomb clinics and kill doctors? It won't help, you'll be made an example of in the negative sense, and civilized norms are more important than a useless symbolic point. One clinic destroyed won't end abortion, after all.

From which this Effort-post got its Genesis:

Would you say the same about those who participated in the french resistance or Warsaw Ghetto rising to Nazi Germany?

Everyone of those claims applies there: they were likely to be made examples of, they were damaging civilized norms, and any given action had relatively little to no impact.

Yet the same people who insist abortion is murder, and thus that America is committing a holocaust, yet denounce any of the people who employed violence against abortion doctors or clinics, and can’t distance themselves fast enough from any call for violence... none of those people apply the same logic to the first holocaust. None of them say the frenchmen who bombed german police stations where dangerous terrorists who deserved their executions, none of them denounce the Warsaw ghetto rising as an attack on civilization.

…

If anti-abortion advocated genuinely believed a fetus was a equivalent human life to yours or mine or the little kids they see walk to school, and that this was an ongoing holocaust of American Children at a scale possibly 10x or more what was done to the jews... they wouldn’t need to come up with ad hoc reasons why they don’t resort to violence, their mind would be screaming at them to take bloody vengeance 24/7 in righteous outrage, demanding that oceans of blood and fire be unleashed that it might wash clean the horror, that nuclear fire would be be an acceptable emergency shut off to end such wanton and cruel slaughter... and if thinking through all the logic they concluded that no violence wouldn’t help and they must pursue some peaceful negotiation to stop the slaughter, then their minds recoil and call themselves cowards and the moment of coming to that conclusion would be an ongoing trauma they’d carry with them for the rest of their life, even if they knew they were 100% right. They would meet the “pro-choice” and barely be able to conceal their desire to see them dead or imprisoned... they would meet women who had had abortions and scream bloody murder at them and tell them they deserve the death penalty, the way many of the same people react when presented with women who’d murdered their children, but after their children had left the womb.

The people who were jailed for assassinating abortionists, or fire-bombing clinics would be folk heroes lionized in songs and crowd funded hagiographic documentaries and folk traditions, like John Brown, or John Wilkes Booth, or Louis Reil, or Saco and Vancety, or Huey Newton, or Malcolm X, or David Koresh, or Levoy Finecolm... or hell even just Jesse James, or Killdozer.

Americans abort on average 1 million plus babies a year... that means if abortion is murder and those are human lives, then the 50 years since Roe vs.Wade has been a worse crime than the holocaust, slavery, or the crimes of Stalin, and we’d have to consult a historian to see if they were worse than Mao (on a per capita basis, certainly)...

This would be the worse crime ever commited, the greatest mass slaughter ever perpetrated in human history, and 50 years later our society would remain committed to repeating it in the next 50 years.

If that does not demand violence, then nothing in human history ever has, no even defensive war has ever been justified, and only Jainists and Jehovah’s witnesses are morally acceptable actors. An extreme unexceedable pascifism we know the vast majority of anti-abortion advocates do not endorse, since they overwhelming supported or at-least did not conspicuously oppose the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan (over a mere 3000 Americans dead, and a less than a years abortions worth of Iraqis killed by Saddam) and continue to conspicuously “Support our troops” troops that exist to carry out violence, despite their moral commitments saying they can apparently never in human history be justified.

.

When i say this proves “Pro-lifers” clearly do not believe a fetus is an equal human life, thats me being incredibly charitable. That is me extending a overwhelming large olive branch, that is me expressing a stupendous care and concern and sympathy and brotherly love to rival the best 19th century dinner host, the dearest of friends, a benevolent older sibling, a lover, a parent, a mother who on hearing the taped confession of her son to serial murder, doesn’t hesitate once before screaming “you monsters you’ve drugged and tortured him! What threats have you made to my grandchild! He would only say such things to save his daughter’s life!”

My claiming they are full of shit and lying to themselves, to you, and to me, is an expression of love and faith in my fellow man which until now I did not realized I possessed nor was capable of...

Because if I merely took them at their word? If I believed that they believed what they say they believe? They would be monsters.

.

Lets play a game called “Other Possible Holocausts”. Approximately 800,000 babies where aborted this year.

Lets imagine the US government has just announced that crime has gotten to cumbersome and that over the next 3 years it plans to execute every single one of the 2.4 million people in US prisons jails and Jeuvenile detention centres.

Lets imagine that to reform education, the US resolves to kill the bottom 1% of all 80 million students in the country based on an age adjusted standardized test every year.

Lets imagine hatred of the obese takes off, and a policy is passed to resolve America’s 30% obesity rate by the mass instituting of bounties on hunting and killing the obese... that every year 800,000 to 1.5 million tags will be issued for a fee to allow the hunting of the obese in return for monetary rewards on successful hunts and getting to keep the carcasses for meat base animal foods and the manufacture of fuel, or fat based household products. These bounty hunters become known a “whalers”.

Lets imagine the US announces its done with African Americans... if the problem hasn’t been solved since 1619, its not going to be... and so they’re going to genocide all 40 million African Americans at a rate of 2% a year, for the next 50 years.

Lets imagine opposing extremists get in charge and decide the racists rednecks have to go, and so they’ll be forming death squads to roam the South, Appalachia, and the rust belt, with the objective of killing 800,000 poor whites a year, “until the problem is solved”... with many happily stating 50 years of this would be acceptable, while others state it’d be perfectly fine to renew it another 50 years after that.

…

These are all American lives, and according to pro-lifers of equal moral value to the babies aborted every day, no better, no worse.

By saying this and by saying violence is not and cannot be justified to resist it, they are saying that their reactions to any one of the above eventualities would be to continue to live their lives as they have lived the past 50 years.

I do not know how to respond to that. Even if Abortion is truly murder of an ensouled equal human life... The Pro-choicers committing the murders don’t think it is... hell the Nazis murdered 6 million jews and a further 5 million undesirables, but they didn’t think of them as human, they thought they were monstrous and “life unworthy of life”, like a burning man begging you to shoot him so he doesn’t suffer or hurt his fellows... a mercy in a way.

Pro-lifers on the other hand claim these are equal viable human lives of equal status to yours or mine or perhaps even greater.... They’re Children.

And their reaction to the greatest mass slaughter in human history, the reaction of almost half the electorate, who regularly talk about the need to resist tyrrany and defend the weak (as both left and right in the US do, in their way), their reaction is to vote every 4 years, and have it perhaps not even be the #1 issue if the economy seems bad, they have the opportunity to vote for the first black president, or the Orangeman says something crude about Mexicans... they won’t be single issue voters even when it comes to the greatest crime ever committed in human history?

.

I refuse to believe it. Even I, cynical as I am, have to believe we are not that far gone, and the age of men has not come crashing down... i would believe the US capable of such a crime, but to believe that a double digit percentage of Americans could look at that, recognize the victims as their fellow humans,recognize their state and society as committing mass murder of their neighbours, future friends, and relatives...to recognize that they have a moral imperative to act on this... and then just go “welp them’s the breaks, gotta be civilized” because 9 people in black robes said it wasn’t murder?

Holy fuck. No that is not how people work, that is not how humans behave, I cannot accept that, and leftists who spent the summer rioting in response to fewer than a thousand police killings of black men a year, who remember the civil rights and anti-war movements, who kinda vaguely recall that they’re supposed to remember Huey Newton, or Saco and Vanseti, or those Rossen...something people... who like to imagine they’d have been abolitionists in the 19th century. They’re right to call bullshit.

They’re right to call the pro-lifers liars who don’t believe their own messaging, and instead just want to control women’s bodies, after a lie like that to their face, they’re right to treat them with scorn.

…

Pro-life is rescuable as a sentiment and an activist movement...

But not while it claims a Holocaust is going on and somehow magically no violence could ever be justified to resist it, thus lining up all the arguments that will allow the next holocaust to be committed without resistance.

There have been a double digit, perhaps even a triple digit number of mass murders and genocides in the hundreds of thousands or millions of people, since the 20th century. America is enabling its ally Saudi Arabia to commit one against the Yemenis right fucking now.

We need to be very fucking clear about what it is justified to do to members of a regime that commits such a crime, and what it is definitely justified to do to the immediate perpetrators of the murder. And That we will back violent resistance to such a horrible crime by the state even if it serves only to make the resister a martyr we’ll praise, or it degrades “civilization” (what civilization could remain in such a regime?), or it ultimately has no effect (it is on the survivor to try harder)... The major members of the House of Saud deserve the Gallows under international law for what they’re doing in Yemen , as do their American attaches and core enablers... and if that comes from a Judge in the Hauge or from a convoy of irregulars in pickup trucks, or from lone assassins who manage to get through to them, It is justice, and i will praise it.

What we cannot do is pretend that genocides and mass slaughter on unconscionable scales are occurring and then come up with excuses for why we should do nothing and anyone who does resist is a criminal. Or else those excuses will be the ones that allow the next real genocide in the west or on US soil to actually happen.

If there is a genocide or democide or whatever you want to call mass slaughter. You must recognize the justice the violent resistance to it, even if you personally do not participate, or you must admit you were lying about there being such a crime... to say otherwise, to say a state can commit such a crime and still retain its right to your loyalty, to say a people up to and including its victims must obey such a thing, a creature made of bureaucracy that has set its sights on massacring humans by the thousands if not millions... it is to side against the human race in a war of extermination.

And as someone whose pro-choice as they come, I’d much rather, if the pro-lifers really believe its murder, I’d much rather they start a bloody civil war, than for it to become the norm that that is ethically acceptable.

#kulakrevolt #reddit #the motte #food for thought

[princeanxious]

A random logicality fic i didnt realize I wanted to write until just now, that i can't write out into an organized fic story atm but I can ramble about its whole world and character settup! So like. Take this as a massive bullet point fic if you will, but, yknow, minus the bullet point part..

[[MORE]]

Some background info: this is an omegaverse idea BUT it primarily focuses on the worldbuilding, character dynamics, and relationship dynamics and doesnt focus or even really mention nsft stuff. At least not in this post! Another fact abt this au is that there are no betas in this au, just alphas and omegas representing as the primary biological differences. Same general biology applies, and there is this worlds own version of the LGBTQ+ community as well, ect ect.

Logan is a highclass omega that lives on a large estate and is the only omega, let alone male omega(which is uncommon in this au), in his well known family's current generation. Hes got two other older alpha siblings Thomas and Deceit(named Dorian in this fic) and theyre all p close to eachother and wellknown to the public for being anti-classist despite the rest of their highclass family's history of being generally snooty and classist and not very family-oriented. They probably run a big entertainment company named after the family line and thats where most of their wealth comes from. Their family surname is probably Sanders. Logan is like, an inch above normal height for an omega and is sort of a frail, lanky, and uber pale man who doesn't eat well and doesnt exercise often and doesnt get enough sunlight and is often bored out of his mind, frankly.(all of this is due to his parent's terrible job of raising him, both from the servants (unhappily)following their orders for his care and from their blatant disregard for his health and happiness as a male omega. His brothers and the servants do the best they can to sneak around the rules, at least for food and sneaking Logan books and candles to entertain himself late at night or in his freetime when they arent hanging out together)

Patton, on the other hand, is a mid-high class Alpha in a little less well-known(in comparison to the Sanders family at least) but still well-respected family in a slightly smaller estate, known from their history of being a long line of hardworking successful people and being a very big and far reaching family. They probably breed a few prized mostly pure-bred and cross-bred horse breeds (the ethical way of course). And perhaps they(at least at Patton's estate specifically) also have their own fruit tree plantation that is known for selling its fruit as well as making said fruit into jams to be sold locally. Theyre family also has ties in helping many local businesses as well as a few larger companies ect. ect. The main family branch name is Crofters. ;p Patton is a v tall boi, and like his father, works hard around the estate just as much as any other worker. He helps harvest fruit from the plantation when its time and gets to help turn a good portion of the fruit into their famous crofters jam, and he helps tend to the stables and horses and chores all around the estate, does lots of heavy lifting ect.ect. So. Tall buff boi who's v suntanned and v freckled and made of friendliness and sunshine smiles yknow?? Hes an only child with just a father by the time hes 21 and a ton of extended family but he makes an effort to check in and make sure the local youth and elderly are well taken care of.

So in this fic, like, these things that are sort of like coming-of-age courting parties/festivals are held? It's a big cultural thing that happens each season to allow un-courted young adults a chance to meet and socialize with other un-courted young adults at their own leisure and pace rather than being subjected to family-directed arranged courtings(which are mostly a thing of the past at this point for their culture)

So like, p much Thomas and Dorian have to step in to help Logan persuade their parents into letting them take Logan to a local coming-of-age festival bc his parents are like this close to just making Logan go through w/ an arranged courting from some other highclass alpha, bc omega males aren't as 'prized'(to the highclass) or seen as desirable as omega females so getting Logan to marry into another wealthy family solely for maintaining status and making wealthy ties is the only use they see for him. Which of course,, his alpha siblings are having none of that if they have anything to say about it.(and they do. Logan deserves as much freedom as they do if not more, especially at this point in their lives. And Dorian spends the whole walk back to their bedrooms venting about the stupidity and blatant sexism of the fact that Dorian and Thomas are freely allowed to go wherever and do whatever they please because they're Alphas, "but Logan can't and has to be escorted everywhere that he is allowed to go if he wants to go anywhere as if he doesnt have his own autonomy! Why can Thomas and I go to the festival's without any fuss or escort but Logan is almost two steps from forbidden to even chose his own attire for the day? Highclass society is bullshit!")

So, with the eventual hard-won mutual agreement that Thomas and Dorian will be Logan's direct and only escorts to the festival who will not be left alone(they wouldnt leave him alone anyway, though not out of thinking that Logan is a dependent helpless omega that needs to be attended to and directed at all times, bc they dont believe that like their parents do, its out of the fact that theyre not about to leave their two years younger baby brother who has virtually no experience in socializing, let alone making friends, alone in a loud activity-filled festival w/ a large amount of varied attendance.) They head off during the winter festival season(as Logan's 21st birthday was in late autumn) to at least introduce their own friends that they've met over the years to Logan(who many of them have heard about but never met previously due to their parents toxic outdated mindsets on how omegas needed to remain shielded from the world and obediant, so Logans only friends for the longest time were his brothers themselves and that was it.).

So, the cast fic placements sorta go like this: Dorian has his intentions set on courting this very chaotic very non-conforming omega male named Remus(bc really, both of them just wanna say fuck you to the Sanders' parents' outdated ideals of societal conformity, really. However, Dorian pursuing Remus is like 5% driven by saying suck it to society, 15% spite towards his parents, and 80% because Remus stole his heart the first time they met by being unabashedly himself and being super interested and forward towards Dorian without being patronizing or disgusted with his birth scars and blind eye. Remus without prompting settles up against Dorian's blindside at all times when in public to work as a barrier to others sneaking up on the visually impaired alpha, all unprompted. Remus really really likes Dorian, and the feeling is mutual.) And! it works out bc even tho Remus is about as wild and as independant and inobedient and non-fragile and as far from the rest of the perfect omega stereotypes as they get, he's part of a family that is even higher in status than the Sanders family. Remus and his twin Roman are both male omegas born into a wealthy and publicly generous family that honestly is probably the most well known in the entertainment industry for its long line of professional actors, singers, and popular film/stage play writer and producers. Remus and Roman are naturally charismatic, Roman being a talented singer and trained actor while Remus dabbles in script writing and producing. Their mothers are respectively an omega and alpha and have their own accomplishments. And, are infact very progressive, and they plan to hand off the company to Roman and Remus to run when the twins are ready to, marriage not required. So, like. The Sanders parents cant exactly find a reason not to let Dorian pursue Remus without being openly obvious in their conservative views about omegas. (Which The Twins' parents already know about through Remus's recountings of Dorian's venting abt Logan's childhood mistreatment) so, safe to say, everyones in on pissing off the Sanders family in ways that they can't openly be mad about.

Anyways, to tie this all back in, the festivals mentioned above are both for meeting mutually un-courted young adults/adults and also for individuals to pursue courting who they want to court without family/class bias ect. (So like, un-courted/non-courting individuals dress/wear a main article in a certain color, while courted/courting individuals wear any other colors but that color, and said color depends on what season its in, and this coloring isn't something that varries from town to town, its universal in their culture. For Spring, un-courted individuals wear Green, in fall its Orange, in Summer its Yellow, and in Winter its Blue. And thats how you differentiate) so Thomas and Dee return to attend each of the seasonal festivals to court who theyre pursuing as a special time alone from either family watching as well as it being another way of meeting up with their friendgroup to have fun.

So, through Dorian, Logan finally meets Roman and Remus, and honestly its a real struggle for them to get along at first bc Roman and Remus are loud and brash and opinionated and independent, and rather unfiltered. And. Well, Logan grew up being trained to be the opposite, so he doesnt think they're compatible friends. But thats how he’s been raised to think. They lead and smother him in their conversation for a hot minute before realizing Logans just politely listening and not even attempting to join in, looking mildly uncomfy and out of his depth. And Romans a little offended before he remembers that what Remus relayed to him about Logan's uprising. So, Remus finds a way to get under Logans skin just enough to break down the polite walls that have been trained into him. Remus states stating false facts to Logan that he knows Logan knows are false and is able to get Logan just incredulous and heated enough to debate back. And Roman joins in just in time to change the subjects just a bit, and it takes some time but they get into a grove of getting Logan used to talking without being talked to, giving his own opinion on things without fear of repercussion and just generally conversating.(and they find, very smugly, that Logan can be just as loud and passionate about facts and his own thoughts and opinions if given the right outlet and the push to do it.) And it finally gets Logan to loosen up just a bit, to relax and smile and laugh(!!), and his brothers are just as excited for him bc Logan's finally getting to break out of his shell without the oppressive control of their parents directly looming over him.

So, okay okay, I'm getting to the logicality part, shhh, perfection takes time!! So, okay, I forgot to squeeze this in earlier but Thomas is courting Remy, whos a talented and smart as fuck, independent male omega from a family from their neighboring country. Remy has a big fam, but hes the head in charge out of all his siblings, ect ect. He’s an omega and the oldest, with three younger alpha siblings and one younger omega sibling. His parents are headstrong people who’ve raised a take-no-shit omega who will not be pushed around and will gladly do his own thing, thank you. If we’re being honest, its really Remy courting Thomas, whos a big-hearted softy introverted Alpha, like they are mutually interested in one another but Remy is a massive extrovert and theres no misunderstanding whose taking charge when theyre together. Remy’s existance alone is enough to Piss off the Sanders Family parents, especially after Remus enters the picture, however.. Remy takes it to the next level by being the more incharge, natural born leader, therefor flipping the old dominant alpha and obedient omega sterotype on its head. Thomas is happy to piss them off in doing it bc letting Remy take the lead makes Remy happy and keeps Remy from getting ansy and makes him happy bc he was never going to fully fit the dominant alpha sterotype anyways. Further still, out of the three siblings that are part of the Sanders family, only Thomas keeps the Sanders surname name in the end, as Dorian plans to take Remus’s and (future)Logan plans to take Patton’s surname. Which sets them up for: Remy chosing to take the Sanders Surname therefore becoming a direct part of the Sanders family name lineage, which the parents have no say over bc its technically up to Thomas by law, who gives Remy the option to chose on his own, ect.

Okay okay, w/ that set up, lets move forward.

Its p much a one-by-one meeting basis as Logan meets Dorian and Thomas’s partners and friends. So, Roman, Remus, and Remy all p much take Logan under their collective wing as soon-to-be omega brother-in-laws do. They all realize they’ve got a lot to teach Logan, and more importantly, kinda really need to get him courting soon bc Logan really needs to get out of that toxic household. They’re planning to keep it slowish bc Logan doesn’t know quite yet how to talk to people that arent his brothers, let alone have any knowhow on consentual courting?? But yeah, they’re keeping an protective eye out alongside Dorian and Thomas while still letting approaching un-courted alphas and omegas come close enough to interact/flirt w/ Logan. About mid-day Roman’s courting partner finally arrives:

A slightly withdrawn, tall and quiet Alpha who looks fairly intimidating until Logan realizes just how anxious the lanky Alpha is and how Roman is definately leading when he needs to to keep Virgil from overthinking. They end up hitting it off very well, unsurprisingly. Virgil doesn’t really know Logan’s whole story like Remus does bc Roman didn’t know to tell him in time so it takes some catching up and trading of their home lives to get to speaking terms but, Logan is soon to be the Twin’s brother in-law soo.. that p much makes Logan his family to be anyhow, so. Safe to say Virgil plays a minor part in warding off all too-cocky alphas thinking theyre about to find an easy catch in approaching Logan. Though, realistically, its the fact that a small group of courting young-adults are guiding and staying w/ said un-courted young-adult that keeps Logan from getting approached too much. It may not have allowed him to get the full festival experience, but, its likely Logan would not have been able to handle the Full Experience, especially not on his own.

Finally, incomes Patton. Patton, wearing blue just like Logan, stands out because he approaches the group fearlessly and full of sunshine, going through and greeting each familiar face before he realizes Logan is a new part of the group and politely and warmly introduces himself. Though well known to the group through being Virgil’s longstanding childhood bestfriend and part of a very openly interactive and helpful w/ everyone around them family, this is actually Patton’s first coming-of-age festival, as he’d just turned 21 two weeks prior. And hes very excited to meet new people, he always is! He’s quick to tell Virgil that the jam they’d made earlier in the fall(it was tradition at this point that Virgil helped Patton with the jam making process every year) had been successful in sales and smiles, and hes content to ramble to Virgil about the progress of the stables’ new foals. Logan would have thought Patton had out-right forgotten about him had Patton not begun turning to ask Logan an excited question every minute or so. And he always listened to Logan’s answers completely with rapt attention before asking or saying something further.

Niether of them know they’d both had the same thought when they’d first seen the other. A very sappy, very flustered thought of ‘Oh god, he’s cute.’ The moment they’d made eye-contact.

And, well, Logan is a tad overwhelmed, for many reasons. For one, Patton, on the very surface, is very attractive. Tall and well-built, sunkissed and freckled with curly blond hair and a dashing smile that lit up his entire expression, and Logan couldn’t help mirror Patton’s infectious smile with a shy one of his own. Another was that Patton’s voice was warm, not too loud though it carried well, it was welcoming and unashamedly happy. Patton was patient and kind and friendly, yet still felt reminiscent of an excited puppy. He was unabashedly himself in the nicest of ways, and Logan’s heart kept fluttering everytime their eyes met, everytime Patton asks him a question or answers his own. Patton leads the conversation, but leaves plenty room for Logan to take his own direction if he pleases. He’s considerate and thoughtful and actually treating Logan like a person, not some dependent omega or a possible mate. And it definately doesn’t go unnoticed that Logan’s blushing and slightly flustered, but Patton doesn’t push about it, he just lets the conversation stop and go as they please as the group wanders around and take part in the festivities.

And.. well, the group does take notice that Patton and Logan have started ignoring outside signals of omegas and alphas that wanna get close and interact with either one of them, but they don’t tell them about it. Logan and Patton are pretty obviously interested in each other, and honestly no ones gonna interrupt them while they figure things out. Patton is the only one who definately doesn’t know about Logan’s situation, but he picks up on it’s cues pretty quickly and treads carefully without prodding, though Logan is upfront about himself being raised under opressive conservative ideals so hes pretty new to everything, but he leaves it at that for their first interaction.

P much they spend the rest of the festival together, Dorian and Thomas directly checking in once or twice to confirm Logan is doing okay and happy. Thomas is met with a soft “yes.. Is this what romantic attention feels like?” And Dorian gets “Yes, though i’m not sure how long i’m going to be able to keep functioning if he keeps smiling at me with his handsomeface.” Which these things are said obviously w/ Patton out of earshot And both brothers have to keep themselves from cackling bc their brother is very gay for Patton. And Patton is very openly gay for Logan right back, not that Logan really knows how to read that yet tho.

By the end of the festival, Logan just decides that he wants to pursue courting Patton, h’s very sure of it especially after bringing it up with Dorian and Thomas and getting their approval. Then Logan brings it up with Patton directly and it goes something like this:

Logan shyly but determained asks Patton if he would consider courting Logan, and Patton just smiles warmly and leans down to take Logan’s hand and kisses it. Then says “I did consider it, Lolo, and I’d be more than blessed to get to court you.” And Logan just blushes so bright he has to hide his face and Patton just laughs and hugs him.

Skipping forward, Patton gets the Sanders families hesitant approval to let him directly court Patton, which involves them sending Logan over to spend periods of time at Pattons estate, and Patton coming to stay with Logan at the Sanders estate during the other half of the time. Cue Patton learning just how bad Logan’s home situation is and would be without his brothers there to buffer some of it, and Patton stepping up to curb it back as well while being non-aggressive about it.

Cue Patton taking Logan to meet riding horses directly for the first time, as well as meet baby horses. He eases Logan into the concept of being free to do almost whatever he pleases while staying at the Crofters estate, which is pretty mild for the longest time but watching Logan smile excitedly when he got a new book, or got to walk around town with Patton, or got to say yes or no just because he finally could? It means all the world to Patton. Cue the scene of them resting under a tree near the front of the estate during the day, easily seen and watched but relaxing and napping atop of one another all the same. Logan’s head against Patton’s board chest, listening to Patton’s heartbeat while patton runs his hand through Logan’s hair. Then, Logan tenatively asking about laying out front to stargaze in the evening, and honestly the night they finally get to stargaze for the first time a few days later is when the really fully fall in love.

Cue Virgil coming to visit with Roman in tow when its that time of the year to make the famous Crofters jam, and Logan is staying over at the estate at the time. And Logan finally tries Crofters jam for the first time, as he’d been putting it off before as not being a jelly person. And he just. Finds he really really likes it, probably an inproper amount. Patton takes notice, and doesn’t hesitate to spoil Logan with it every once in a while. Logan also learns how to make Crofters jam, and it was alot of fun to do! Hes tuckered out by the end of it, but thats not surprising.

And okay. Another major fun plot point is that during times that Patton and Logan are staying at the sanders estate, Dorian and Remus, Thomas and Remy, and Roman and Virgil also often are found staying at the large estate, and its no coincidence. Now that Logan is being directly courted(and its going very well), Logan’s autonomy now falls under Patton’s command, not Logan’s parents. And, well, Patton lets him make his own decisions as long as they stick together, as Pattons not comfy leaving Logan alone unless hes with one of his brothers or their omegan mates(bc at this point, Remus and Dorian finished their yearlong courting and married and are official mates, and same goes for Thomas and Remy. ) and well. My favorite concept is that Logan now has the guidance of 3 firely independant omegas to help him learn to strive for the independant mindset that had been robbed from him in his youth. Safe to say, Logan comes out just as stubborn and independant and passionate as the other three. He just tends to be the one out of the four who is the most content with their alpha being a bit more in the lead on a daily basis.

Didn’t really think abt an ending too much but like, Logan and Patton get married and become mates and move to Patton’s estate permanantly and just being so happy and inlove with Patton. And everythings?? Good?? So yeah.

#sanders sides #logicality #logan sanders #patton sanders #luka writes #romantic logicality #omegaverse #luka’s fics #luka’s aus #alpha!patton #omega!logan #long fic #tw long post #luka rambles #thomas x remy #demus #dukeceit #prinxiety #tw child neglect #tw childhood neglect

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Can you do a little text with your opinion about the Volturi members? What you like and dislike, they personality, they story... Would be interesting! Kissessss and have a great day! 💜

Imma have a little fun and throw the very young me into the mix to. Let's see child me vs adult me's opinions on the Volturiiii.

Fun fact: I wasn't team Volturi until I was like fifteen. Before that I was team edward... I don't want to talk about that 🤔😒

Also I'm a sucker for villains. If it isn't obvious already, I like the villains more than the heroes. (We all love a bad boy though, don't we?--- TIK TOK NOW IS NOT THE TIMEE.)

So everything i say is just my opinion and should be taken just as that.

Aro: Younger me was like "this...is a terrible person. There really is no need to expand on this." However adult me has been like "GUYS this guy is possibly the SCARIEST character. This man rips off heads AND SMILES ABOUT IT." He gives me child snatcher vibes (from the movies in particular). I thoroughly enjoy the power hungry persona. He's really fitting to be the puppeteer behind the Volturi. Even if he makes it seem it's a group effort with himself, Marcus and Caius. Realistically, Aro gets what he wants and isn't afraid to do what it takes to get it...sorry Didyme. What's even darker about it, WHICH I LOVE, is that he isn't heartless. Smeyer wrote that Aro genuinely loved his sister. It's all good to have a character that's a evil heartless monster but what's more terrifying to me is the ability for someone to do evil despite their love and emotions. It doesn't hold them back and that's what I find particularly frightening now that child me didn't comprehend. Micheal Sheen, from what I remember of his interview years ago, played on the idea that vampires of Aro's age kinda begin to lose their mind. Which, hell freaking yes. However there is one thing I hate for Aro's character that happened in the movies. Breaking dawn part 2. That fucking laugh. Don't get me wrong, hilarious. I can't not laugh but for his character I felt it was too 'hey hey I'm a crazy man hehe'. It was a but too much, even for an eccentric Aro. However, I'm not to mad at it because again, it was funny to watch. I thoroughly enjoy the ‘friendship’ Aro and Carlisle share and i love that it is ‘maintained’ throughout the books. I think it’s just a really nice detail. (I love lore. I am a sucker for it.) The one thing that didnt sit right with me is Aro marrying someone so that he wasnt the alone one whilst his co-leaders were very much in love? Was a little off for me but i suppose that just adds to the character.

Caius: child me would shrink into the seat because what did I do to this man? High key still think I wouldn't want to be Caius' child because imagine doing something wrong and you get that glare? No thank you! Scary angry man. As an adult... "He's an angry boi but...DAYUM WHY IS HE SUDDENLY SO HOT?" Just...don't get angry with me. You'll get annoying real quick and you're too pretty for that. I enjoy the taking-no-shit attitude he has but felt it could have been a little more prominent in BDP2 where Aro asks if Caius' is challenging him. I full believe Caius to an extend would be like "yes, yes I am. Don't be an idiot Aro. Use that braincell!" Which is why I adore the meme vibes I see every now and then of Caius hating Carlisle because why does Aro love that blonde so much? CAIUS HAS BEEN NOTHING BUT LOYAL-- Anyways, I can totally get why Aro wants him on his team. Caius is so angry and has so much hatred that he’s a good asset to the coven, even if not having a special ability.I do find it hard to imagine that Caius is a century older than Aro though. Although I cant picture him over forty years old lol. Although i do personally enjoy the whole Caius x Athenodora route. IT’S TRUE LOVE! Okay so maybe thats a little dramatic but its better than Aro’s lmao.

Marcus: movie Marcus is absolutely not nineteen years old and that's just a fact. If anything, he's the forty year old one lmao. Child me couldn't care about this man. He was the man who said nothing and slumped on a throne. That was Marcus. That was his character summed up. Then adult me rolled in and OMG NO DON'T DO THIS TO THIS SWEET MAN. LET HIM BE IN LOVE. As an adult i definitely became more attached. I feel like i was too young back then to get why Marcus was in the Volturi. He seemed very out of place and like a filler co-leader more than anything. However as i’ve gotten older (and written for him), I recognised that's the point. That’s Marcus’ evident grief. He isn’t there by choice and losing Didyme caused him to fall out of line with the coven. He’s lost point or purpose. Almost like its become meaningless because the love of his life was gone and he couldn't save her.So what was the aims of the Volturi to protect vampire kind when they couldn’t protect their own? He couldnt protect her. I had never heard of anything like bond identification and once i had- i was shook, like it became clear why he had been so necessary in the first place. That really is handy to understand everyones bonds in a coven, he could direct Chelsea and the two alone could destroy covens by bonds alone. Marcus makes the Volturi more realistic in a lot of ways. Like in a family, there is the happy times, goofy people like Felix, the twins representing a close bond. Afton and Chelsea, love that cant be divided. The list really goes on. Marcus represents love and heartbreak, pain, loss grief, the sad moments every family goes through. In that way he makes the coven seem less invincible, a group of people who at the end of the day, have their own weaknesses and immortality doesn’t mean a perfect existence. Especially when, in my opinion, Bella fantasized about immortality and how perfect it would be. Even after her change, she waited for her happy ending because that was somehow guaranteed in some level. Which in the end, she got but not everyone gets that happy ending we all want. I also personally think Marcus is the most feeling of the Volturi, despite being apathetic. A result of heartbreak. It’s shown he can still feel more in his own ways when he voted against Renesmee being destroyed. Furthermore, he advocated that vampire hybrids were a lot like vampires. He made that relation openly before anyone. Its almost as though losing Didyme helped him value a life?

Jane and Alec: Child me thought these two were  badass...and that still remains in my adult life. It’s always been uncomfortable to me that someone so young is so sadistic and powerful. Jane is the older twin with the ability of pain illusion...yikes. Her ability was evident in her human life along with Alec’s. His gift is sensory deprivation and these two were my favourites in the whole Saga. Still kind of are if im honest. I thoroughly enjoy the twins backstory. It has the most detail. I have a tag for the twins. Canon!twins is the tag for the twins in their book age. Unless this tag is present, the twins have been aged up :). They are very much canon but I put a bit more emphasis on tantrums. If they get angry, they both have tantrums. So whilst (unless tagged) they aren't children they can be very childish and these tantrums are pretty deadly. They’re also very possessive? I dont even know if thats the right word i’m looking for in all honesty. Lets say they get very attached if they like you. These two are probably the most secluded out of the whole Volturi.

Felix: Felix! High ranking guard due to strength and speed. I am a major supporter of Felix being a gladiator when he was human. He as a lighter grey cloak meaning he isn’t as high ranked but is so good at what he does that he’s been kept for centuries...and a lot of them. Personality? FINALLY, WE’VE GOT ONE WITH PERSONALITY!! (Im writing these out of order and i’ve just finished a chunk of Volturi members who have personalities as invisible as Afton.) Flirtatious and Light hearted, we love flirtatious and light hearted! Basically a comedian! Helllll yes, keep it going! Extremely vicious and highly aggressive? You know what? I still like it. He wouldn’t be a Volturi without a dark side. Cold blooded murderer. Yes. 10/10. Finally, someone Smeyer seems to actually care about. He flirted with Bella a couple of times in the books and i was FOR IT ALL THE WAY. I was very sad i saw none of it in the movies but im used to heartbreak by now. Im in this fandom after all. We were robbed of a lot. Strongest vampire in the world? I believe you, he’s also a hecking treeeeee. HE DO BE A TALL BOI. He actually makes Demetri look small and that’s still hilarious to me. Demetri is actually tall. However, if it isnt obvious we clearly traded backstory for personality. I cant get both smh. So...as i said before I fully believe Felix was a gladiator back in the day, hence his physique and height and excellent fighting abilities he has even as a vampire but then it kind of ends. I will say from the dawn of time, i don’t think Felix is the most academic man, just because of his era. I also think majority of the Volturi couldn’t read of write in their human lives and had to learn much older, most learning as vampires. Felix was one of these vampires, Although even now he isnt the most great at it. Then a wonderful writer known as @wallwriterstuff included it and now it’s canon in my eyes. I fully believe Felix is a slow reader and writing isn’t his strong suit either. Wallwriter also includes the possibility that Felix could be dyslexic which im all for too. For a very long time i’ve considered writing a dyslexic reader with the Volturi but have always hesitated because i don’t have it and wouldn’t want to upset someone for any misunderstandings or inaccuracies. However what i will say is that i think vampires would be the most understanding to humans with dyslexia. Learning things like that in later development or as an adult is difficult and they wouldnt think any less of you for struggling with reading, writing, numeracy- you name it. You’ll probably find they’re with you in the struggle at least half of the time. He’s also the goofball of the Volturi, even though he’s not really a goofball in our eyes, he’s the closest to a goofball out of the whole Volturi ...Emmett beats him in the Goofball wars.

Demetri: Oh yeah, it's Demetri's turn! So Demetri was previously in Amun's coven. When Chelsea gave him the old razzle dazzle...I've said Chelsea's gift so many times at this point it's getting old. I have two characters left after Demetri 😂😂 Anyway, with that Demetri was like "welp, I'm in the Volturi now." And now that they had a better tracker the previous one was kicked out. He isn’t much of a talker, polite and formal. He’s elegant (more graceful than i could ever be) and charming...yeah he is, you can say that AGAIN. He is also very calm, when next to Felix, i think everyone is calm but you know, we’ll say he’s a very calm person. I like how he was originally in the Egyptian coven with Amun. Given Amun’s goals this a pretty nice detail. NOW LETS GO TO MY VERSION. He’s very charming, calm, polite, formal and even a lil’ but quiet, i kept him pretty canon because he actually had a description to go on :))))))))))  Moving on. Demetri can be a very successful flirt when he wants to be and does have a Casanova reputation. However beyond the charming Volturi guard who has a brutal side like the rest of them, he has a chewy centre, deep down. I added that he had a child in his human life, one he doesn’t remember and very few people know about. He remembers that they died of an illness very young (around six?) but can’t remember what they look like. For that reason he doesn’t like talking about his child, he feels awful he doesn’t remember them and the loss still hits a pang in his chest. 

Heidi: Alright im ready for this one! Child me didn’t necessarily enjoy Heidi? I was rather passive about her. It was all ‘pretty vampire used for her looks’ in my eyes back then and i was never comfortable with that. I’ll get into my take on Heidi in a moment, roll on the backstory!  So Heidi knew Victoria as they used to be coven mates and we’re going to continue on as though Heidi didn’t care when she was killed? Like...its genuinely a burning question in my mind! If she didn't care, could that show the extent of Chelsea’s power in action!? (can we tell im enthusiastic about this coven yet?) It’s quite smart to have someone lure in prey. I wont lie, Heidi has quite the badass role in the coven. I wouldn't have thought about that I reckon. I’ve always thought that showed a kind of superiority. Oh you guys need to hunt your prey? pfft, ours literally comes to us. Her backstory really starts with Heidi being mistreated in her human life...a common theme Smeyer has. It can get old- i wont lie but when i give it some thought it kind of makes sense. Rosalie said it herself in eclipse, if any one of them had their happy ending, they’d be six feet under but i’d love a little bit more creativity. I could go on about how male vampires ended up being changed in comparison to female vampires but i’ll swiftly move on because that’s a whole other thing alone. Heidi was changed out of pity. (Which kinda infuriates me just to type, a pity change? Really? Really Hilda? we’ll see why it annoys me when i explain my take on Heidi.) Heidi was happy in her coven with Hilda, Victoria etc, which is hell yes. We love that. This is around the time she discovered her gift. Vampires were attracted to her and humans fell prey to her easily. Yup okay. I’ll take that. After a newborn vampire caused ‘too much attention’ Aro spared Heidi and Chelsea used her gift on Heidi. Nice, very nice aaaaand that’s where it stops and im left hanging.  Personality time with Smeyer! Lets goooo.  From what i remember and can find- she didn’t fucking have one. Apparently being pretty is enough for everyone.  Which in hindsight, fair enough on a human Bella’s perspective, its literally Heidi’s gift to lure you in no matter what. She could tell you she’s a serial killer (and technically is lmao) and is about to sell your kidneys on the black market as to which you’ll be like ‘sign me the fuck up, want my liver too? Here, let me lie on the table for you. I’m down.’ without even realising what just happened. But even beyond that...Heidi has no personality traits mentioned. In New Moon she appears to be a little flirty which im all for, why the hell not? But...thats it? Thats all I get? Then we get into fanfictions, because i read them growing up. Heidi was depicted as flirtatious, promiscuous and then it varied between manipulative or she wasnt very smart. Which i’m knocking absolutely no one for. I think you can get a badass character who is incredibly dumb. I think all characters are actually valid whether they’re a genius or flat out dumb. I love them all. However it never really sat with me. I was never quite satisfied which i was fine with until i started writing for myself. That’s when i knew i’d have to really think about what my version of Heidi would be or i’d never be happy with my work. That and you also begin to fill in the blanks? The more you write the more you flesh out a character for yourself and so that rolls into my version of Heidi! So for my Heidi, she often gets the same trope of ‘she’s pretty and rich, those types of girls have easy lives who always had everything given to them.’ Then when it’s discovered she didn’t have a good human life. It turns to the next assumption of ‘oh she’s pretty and stupid enough to be used and manipulated’. In a lot of ways, that’s what Heidi wants everyone to think. Underestimate her, please, its all the easier to manipulate you if you do.  She’s actually very smart and her rough human life made her more tough and intelligent. She’s very manipulative and yes she’s very flirty. You can look but you cant touch! She enjoys the attention her beauty gets her but if only these people would care more about what she’s like as a person. She’s not a barbie doll she will play you if she needs to. The only one who’s actually gotten far enough to sleep with Heidi is Demetri and even then the two don’t see each other romantically. They’re good friends who thinks the other is very attractive but that's where it ends. They’re basically friends with benefits some times lmao. However, Demetri got that far because he see’s the intellect Heidi actually has and acknowledges it. He thinks shes a queen who should be treated as such. She could take anything she wanted, a storm that people can only hope to survive in one piece.  Secretly she enjoys a family setting. Whilst she never really wanted children (especially when she was expected to when human), she couldn't help but melt inside seeing little human children with their loving parents. She wants that for all children. Whether that's because she lacked such affection growing up, no one knows. She’s also a really good friend, you bet she’ll have your back. Crappy ex? Well we’ll show them, wont we (Y/N)? She’ll be a bitch and enjoy every second of it. She also loves the single life, believe it or not, you’ll have more difficulty getting Heidi to settle down than you would Demetri which speaks volumes.  So yeah, move past her gift and really get to know her and you might have a very good friend.  I also don’t see Heidi having a preference between male or females and that’s in all honesty. Times have changed and if she is attracted to another female then she wont be ashamed of it. She never has been (Demetri was the first to figure that out, Felix may be the last.) Even when the times weren’t approving of different sexualities, she didn't care. She will flirt with you and find it ridiculously cute if you get flustered.

Sulpicia: Sulpicia was an orphan which i used to develop my own version of her. Sulpicia grew to love Aro which im on the fence about but yup, i’ll take it. You’ll see what happens with my version in a bit lmao. and that’s where it stops. I get no personality again but do you know what we do in this fandom? We create one and fill in the blanks baby! So i write Sulpicia very materialistic and vain, she’s most snobbish of the wives and due to the other two, also considered the meaner one. She didnt have such things as a child being an orphan so when she got the opportunity to have it-she jumped. She isnt easily impressed and married Aro not for love but for immortality, money and status. (He’s only married you for your money, princess Jasmine! HE ONLY MARRIED YOU FOR YOUR MONEY! Damn it tik tok, but make it princess Aro) Which works well, because Aro doesnt necessarily love her either, he just wanted a mate so he wasnt the odd one out.He literally created her because he was like “Yup, you’ll do.” The two recognised they made a great team and image so they kinda grew to love each other? A little bit? Sure we’ll say its love...sorta. ANYWAY, It’s a highlight to Sulpicia being locked in that tower where she doesnt need to see Aro every little moment, it’s better than having a husband who she’d need to see everyday. ...Yeah my Sulpicia is something else lmao.

Athenodora:  Athenodora is one of the oldest vampires in existence which kinda has me shook but I'll take it. She met Caius when he was fleeing from the Romanians, the two travelled together until they met Aro. Whilst on their nomadic travels they seemingly became mates. That's all we know about that. As to which the Volturi coven was made. Athenodora is completely loyal to Caius as well as highly dependent on him and I think that's very realistic given her circumstances. That's where their story ends...maybe for Smeyer but not for me! 😁 So I picture Caius and Athenodora being different sides of the same coin. Athenodora really mellows Caius, she is no where near is violent and sadistic as he is but due to her unwavering loyalty and dependency, she doesn't feel inclination to go against him...also because of Chelsea and Corin but I've said that so many times in this post I think we get the point. I think she's actually more gentle and soft spoken but that being said. She is very reserved and if she were to be angered she'd very much change. She could cut you down with words alone. Caius loves it. However beyond this is someone who is very maternal. Caius would appreciate it more if the two had children but instead it has created empathy. Caius doesn't want that when he can rip their head off. She struggles a little more with the 'no second chances' and that's another reason why Caius keeps her locked away and away from it. These two love each other more than words can describe. After being through so much with someone, the love can only grow. The two would happily risk their life for the other. Caius is saddened that he could never give her the family she wanted. He knows that to this day, Athenodora tries to reign in that side of her. He's a very supportive husband who's very different around his wife. He's much more tolerant, and angry. Simply more at ease. If anything happened to Athenodora, to put it simply...there would be hell to pay.

Didyme: Married to Marcus and Aro’s biological sister. Cute, me likely, keepy going. Her gift was happiness induction. VERY ADORABLE- Dont be as menacing as your brother...please. She was born several years after Aro and was changed by Aro ten and a half years after he was turned. (Dont tease me with all this lore Smeyer, I know what you’re gonna do) Aro was deeply disappointed her gift was just to make people happy- its okay Didyme, we love you. Aro is just...Aro. Her gift made many fall in love with her and its so freaking cute i CANT- but she only felt the same feelings for Marcus. MY HEART IS SO WARMMMM. Unfortunately they were so happy together that they lost interest in anything Volturi and were ready to leave. (Uh oh.) Aro, being the sneaky fellow he is, was like “I’m really happy for y’all of course you can leave. I love you my babies. My best friend and my sisterrrrrrr, I am the captain of this SHIP.” but was actually like “wait, no, no, no, not my Marcus. D-D-Did-Didyme I NEED him.” Think Sid the Sloth from ice age in the first movie when Sid really wants the baby. So this man is like...gonna have to do it to em and murder. He killed Didyme secretly (dunno how he pulled the secret part off- like i know how he did it but how did no one hear or see anything or even suspect anything IT WAS LITERAL FRIENDLY FIRE but we love the drama so continue.) Ironically enough she was very close with Aro and the two actually did love each other, Aro is just...murderous apparently, to the extent that even his sister isnt safe. And that’s it. That’s Didyme. Which im like...alright Smeyer i see you. I like this and expanded on this with my Didyme.  i get the vibes that Didyme is the most innocent and kind of all the Volturi. Losing her meant losing the consciousness within the Volturi making them all the more ruthless because there was no one to say. “Guys, maybe lets rethink this? and quickly because i cant get Caius to put down the torch thats currently on fire.” Losing Didyme made Marcus mostly become passive and would rarely stop anything that happened. I often wonder if that provoked a lot of guilt for Marcus later on. (However thats a spoiler for something im currently writing...;) ) I also think of her as a major daydreamer and the most soft, gentle person anyone will ever meet. Like its difficult not to like her despite being in the Volturi, even the Romanians would have struggled if they met her. So in the long run...i hate nothing about Didyme, only find more and more love lmao.

Corin: So im going to be honest and tell you i have no idea what Corin would look like. I’ve got nothing and when i was younger i wasnt even sure if Corin was male or female. Like a lot of these names, i had never heard of the name ‘Corin’. I dont write for her as of yet because im still trying to figure her out. I think she’s quite quiet, she lets her gift do most of the work for her in keeping the wives, Chelsea and Caius when he doesnt get to go on a rampage, content. She was brought in also after Didyme died but Marcus refused her gift.That’s all i’ve got for her. Her gift is amazing, pretty underrated in my personal opinion since like Chelsea, she really helps keep the Volturi unified but other than that, I dont have much to say about her. :(

Afton:  Another character i basically filled the blanks in for myself. So what we’re told is that he’s Chelsea’s mate and has the ability to disappear . Whilst thats a pretty cool trick...the volturi dont necessarily need it but they have to keep Chelsea happy and she demands that Afton stays so welcome to the family Afton! I also recently learned that if you hide behind Afton and he goes invisible infront of an opponent, you too will also be invisible. I figure that is until the opponent moves and basically changes their perspective but i could be wrong with that last part. That’s all we get so time for my unnecessary input!  SO AFTON IS A TOTAL SWEETHEART. He’s very shy but polite. This is a complete opposite to his mate Chelsea. It’s actually what she liked about him. At first is was just be flirtatious to the shy vampire but when she actually got to know him... she fell hard. It was also Chelsea who had made the first move since Afton was so shy. Of course she’d never say so and Afton would never want to embarrass her so that was never really disclosed to anyone who wasn’t around at that time. She brings Afton out of his shell a lot and it wasn’t long before the two were mates. Chelsea is the light of his life. Hands down. He puts up with a lot for her and is happy to do so. She could ask anything of him and he’d do it and she doesn’t even need to use her gift. He buys are anything she wants almost instantly. He cant help but adore her passionate personality, like how hooked she can get on era’s such as the 1920′s, her love for jazz music and her ability to gush on and on about anything. The two had what the other lacked and that made them an excellent team. I love their relationship. I cant help it. However, as i said before Afton is very shy and tends to keep to himself. Sadly that, paired with Chelsea’s demand to keep him in the Volturi has left Afton a little bit outcasted. All the other permanent guards were wanted and considered important whilst Afton...not so much. Although that isn’t to say the other guards are mean to him or anything. They aren’t! (Except the twins who are...the twins.) Felix and Demetri tried to include him a lot but it was very difficult to break him out of his shell. That doesn’t mean to say they wont invite Afton when he’s around. Chelsea always appreciates their efforts. Afton is notably good friends with Santiago, who often preferred solitude as well. 

(Guard to the left is who I imagine Afton is)

Chelsea: So supposedly Chelsea’s original name is Charmion? When i was younger i didnt really care much about her. I only really knew her gift and that she was the reason Afton was kept in the Volturi, since they were mates. From what im aware Chelsea basically wasnt in the movies/not identified. There wasnt much said about her in the books either. So since then i’ve kind of developed my own persona of Chelsea that could be completely inaccurate to canon but canon was my foundations with characters like these. She was always a red head in my eyes with ringlets, a copper kind of red head. I also pictured her to be small. However the newest addition to her character would have to be the mid-Atlantic accent. I blame Poppy Hill for this one. That character screamed Chelsea to me. She was very close to how i imagine Chelsea to be. So now Chelsea has an accent that i have no clue how she managed to maintain being in Italy so long and being born in Greece. LMAO. We’ll say she was very attached to that time. However, I think the time she joined the Volturi was actually very good for the story. She first came around just after Marcus had lost Didyme and Aro had her use her ability to keep Marcus in the coven. it’s really cool how she could really make or break the coven. Although, Aro was smart enough to not fully rely on her, using Corin’s ability on Chelsea to make sure she’d be happy and stay within the Volturi. Thats where the information on Chelsea really ends Over the years Chelsea has appeared in my writing and so beyond this point, Chelsea’s character is only my depiction.  I figure Chelsea is a talker, like she can talk her way in and out of situations with ease. She enjoys being manipulated and even more so, being needed.Much like her gift, she gets under people’s skin- not in terms that she’s annoying but more so she can figure out people very well. Her mate is the complete opposite and so she often speaks on the behalf of them. Chelsea is very social and charismatic. She along with Heidi are the only two Volturi members who will be out and interacting with humans if necessary. Heidi for her ability but Chelsea purely for her social skills. She’s also the most interested in human culture. She loves the parties- the 1920′s being her favourite era in terms of fashion. She has no issue changing her name and has done so multiple times when the names run out of fashion.It’s like playing dress up! I’d actually love to write more about her. I’ve really grown to love her character, even if i filled in some blanks for myself. I think she and Afton’s relationship is one of the best, up there with Carlisle and Esme- despite the two being very different. It’s a part of their dynamic!

(I always imagined Chelsea to be a red head but Poppy Hill from THOHH is a very close depiction to Chelsea in my eyes)

Renata: A stressed little bean that lives on stress. I remember thinking when i was younger she was the big threat since she was Aro’s shield but now that im older i see...a stressed little five foot bean. I have no idea what she looks like but always imagine her dark hair tied in a tight bun, looking almost painful. Another who wears heels, like Heidi but she is very rigid just as she has been described. Her uncle is a bit of an ass considering he begged her to go with the Volturi so there wouldn’t be a threat. Dude, can you not just...hand over your niece? At least hesitate! Just like that, thanks to Chelsea, she’d give her life to protect Aro and...I have nothing else. Yes it does drive me mad that there are two named guards i know next to nothing about.

Santiago:So what’s known about Santiago is that he doesn’t actually have an ability. He’s just very good at battle techniques and fighting which is why he’s kept around. If they need fighters, they’re top three are Felix, Demetri and Santiago...in that order. Santiago is also much faster than a regular vampire (as shown in breaking dawn part 2- he caught up to Jacob and Renesmee quite fast despite the two having a running start and wolves supposedly being very fast- much like a vampire) That’s all we know of him so then i got in there and this is how I write Santiago. I gave him the background of coming from a superstitious family. Like he would be told tales of demons and witches growing up as well as things like voodoo. He knew an awful lot of urban legends and whilst he stopped believing in the bad luck his family taught him, he still held interest and couldn’t help the instinct of unease when witnessing such things as rituals. It’s ironic really. However Santiago always deems that humans have it all wrong. These forces are beyond human understanding and shouldn’t be played with. In that way, perhaps Santiago still has some belief in things such as superstition. He’s very secretive about it and would never clarify it for you. Santiago keeps to himself and can be quite standoffish. He can also be blunt even if it’s insulting- he doesn’t tend to care. Although he and Afton became quite good friends since the Afton was an outcast and Santiago didn’t enjoy large groups, or most people in general.