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#because he is not interested in assassination attempts
tamaha · 2 days
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The Prince Emrys Disguise
BBC Merlin AU where Merlin didn't go to Camelot but a different Kingdom where he also pretty quickly became servant in the royal household and is send with the prince (younger brother of the current king) and a knight and an advisor on a diplomatic mission to keep the peace with Camelot and discuss trading business.
Unfortunately, they have a quarrel with some bandits and the prince dies. In order to not upset the Camelot Kingdom by delaying the visit they make Merlin pretend to be the prince because the Pendragons know the knight and advisor from a previous trip with the prince's older brother before he became king.
Fortunately, Prince Emrys was known to be a smart, witted scholar instead of a brute with a sword. And had a similar body size to Merlin so even the clothes fit almost perfectly.
When they are in Camelot Merlin walks the city by himself in his normal peasant outfit, gets into a row with Arthur, he throws him into the dungeon. An hour later Merlin is set free and brought to the throne room where Arthur has to apologies to Prince Emrys in front of the whole court and delegation.
Apparently, the late prince also was known for wandering his city in peasant clothes.
The advisor is most involved with the treaty about peace and trading and the prince is just there to set his signature on the document.
Prince Emrys is witnessing the feast where Lady Helen sings and almost murders Arthur, but Merlin intervenes there as well as in the tourney in which Vailant is cheating, and when so many people get ill by the Afanc.
The treaty can't be finalized because one of the Prince's knight tries to kill Prince Emrys. The assassination is stopped and upon questioning it turns out that Prince Emrys Brother, the King, wanted him to die in Camelot to have reason for a war. So the late Prince dying on the road was too early.
The assassin knight tells everyone that Merlin isn't the prince but just a peasant and a sorcerer (he figured it out when the assasination attempt failed) but Uther wouldn't believe him. The advisor died in the assassination instead.
So, in order to not admit that he is a sorcerer Merlin has to keep pretending that he is the prince.
Uther sends a message to the other Kingdom that the advisor was killed by the knight and the knight died when he treid to escape. Also, Prince Emrys would stay in Camelot for an unknown time and be an advisor in the Camelot Court. Mostly in how to defeat the magic threats. It's a paid job, as a thank you for saving Arthur and the whole of Camelot before.
No war, but also no peace with that kingdom, also no trading.
Soon after that Lancelot comes to Camelot to become a Knight but couldn't because he's no Noble man. But since Merlin is now assumed royalty he makes him his knight. Of course Lancelot quickly figures that Merlin is a sorcerer but keeps quiet.
Arthur and Merlin need some time to get along but eventually see each other as equals.
Uther is always interested in Merlin's opinion for some reason.
Morgana notes Merlin isn't quite against magic as some others are.
Gwen likes him a lot because Merlin is kind to the other servants and does't mind giving a hand himself.
Gaius had figured out Merlin on day one when he accidentally said that he's from Ealdor.
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muffinlance · 1 year
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Zuko, banished, no crew, no uncle, no quest for the avatar. Says "fuck this" aka, if I can get back to caldera maybe I can convince my dad to take me back. Horribly wounded thirteen year old finds dragons, starts a civil war by accident
Zuko didn’t think he was still delirious. The Sun Warrior’s healer hadn’t wanted him to leave yet, but—
But he’s standing here, back in the throne room, and the room is set up again for another war meeting so maybe he should have waited before coming in. But the guards hadn’t even asked him—or anyone inside—before they’d thrown the double doors open, so. He’d thought father wasn’t busy.
The general he thought he was going to fight at the Agni Kai is here, and so are all the others, even uncle. And father, at the head of the table, standing.
Father is the only one standing. Everyone else is... They’re kneeling. 
When he’d come back to the palace, the servants in the courtyard he’d landed in had hurried to open the doors for him, all the way here. And the guards had let him in. And now the whole room is kneeling except for father who—
He doesn’t look like he did on the Agni Kai field. Father had been… he’d been so calm, then. He’d been doing what he had to do, to instruct Zuko, to correct him. 
Now he just looks angry. 
So. So Zuko is screwing this up, too. He practiced his speech the whole way home, it was a good speech, he’d based it on the one the Stone Prince made to his father the Mountain Emperor when he’d come home to beg forgiveness, bringing the treasures of the Ice Spirit with him as tribute. But Zuko doesn’t remember how he was going to start. And the flames behind father are getting higher, and hotter, and Zuko is okay now with flames that flicker with purples and golds and greens, but red flame is—
It’s so hot against his face—
“Father,” he croaks. “Father, I’ve returned. With dragons.” 
He is so, so stupid. Ran and Shaw have flanked him from the courtyard, have wound through hallways paralleling his path, are snaking between the pillars of the room until coils of red and blue dwarf everything here. Ran breathes her own flames out, and the fires before the throne shift from Ozai’s reds to the shimmering rainbow-sparks of dragonfire.
“A sign from Agni,” Uncle Iroh says. He’s bowed like the rest, but Zuko can see his eyes, and there’s the same glimmer there that father and Azula get before they do something Zuko should have seen coming.
“You dare,” father says, and Zuko isn’t sure if it’s him or uncle he’s talking to. But when he takes a step forward it’s towards Zuko and when he raises a fist it’s towards Zuko and when he makes the fire it’s towards Zuko and—
(And Zuko cowered the first time the dragons tried to show him their flames. It was all around him, swirling, and he hit his knees and shoved his face against his arms because he’d learned better than to look up. 
The fire stopped, and a whiskered nose nudged him, and then there was a huge scaly coil loosely wound around him until he was done crying, so at least the Sun Warriors below hadn’t seen how pathetic he was.
After that, it was… they made it a game. Little puffs of flames, the kind of sparks he used to make to keep Azula from getting fussy in her crib, until she was old enough to climb out and go exploring with him instead. 
He flinched at first, a lot, but they didn’t hurt. Didn’t even hit him. And then it really was a game, where he would spin their colors in with his own flames, and send them back, and they’d keep playing as the flames got bigger and bigger but somehow they never got scary again. 
When he’d stopped flinching at all, when he wasn’t a coward around his own element, he knew he was ready to return home. Grandfather had once welcomed uncle home with honors for killing dragons. So father would accept his apologies if he brought home two live dragons, right? Making friends with dragons had to be harder than killing them.)
Father’s flames were… they were just red. Zuko didn’t realize what he was doing until the war ministers were gasping. By then he was already spinning father’s flames with his own, mixing in all the colors father’s had lacked, and.
And sending them back.
(Batting fire around with dragons had not given Zuko a realistic grasp on the heat tolerance of the average abusive father.)
Uncle was not the first to bow, when Zuko had first entered. This time, he is.
“Fire Lord Zuko,” he says.
The war ministers are not prepared to countermand the Dragon of the West. Or literal dragons. They never left their knees, and they don’t start now. Foreheads touch the ground.
Zuko… Fire Lord Zuko’s first order is to take his father to the healers. He’ll let him stay there, longer than Ozai let Zuko.
(You can read this and other prompts at AO3. And longer stories, too. <3)
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zoestorm · 6 months
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The manga: a college guy meets his childhood friend, who was formerly a boy but is now a woman, and has run away from home after an unspecified disagreement with her family which has left her with a significant amount of trauma; it's implied she was bullied heavily in the time since they've last seen each other.
But don't worry, she's not trans! She just got an illness which turned her into a woman!
The manga: a high school boy with an interest in make-up uses his gloomy, depressed (male) childhood friend as a model to improve his skills. This causes said friend to have an "awakening" and start dressing as a woman, and to overall be a much happier, brighter, outgoing person.
But don't worry, the friend is not trans! He's just a boy who crossdresses because his childhood friend likes him better that way!
The manga: a high school boy joins a club where the members can turn into magical girls, which in his case involves physically transforming into a girl. When in girlmode, he's much happier and enjoys his life much more, and overall prefers staying in girl mode; when the ability to transform is temporarily taken away from him, he sinks into a deep depressive episode.
But don't worry, he's not trans! He's just a boy who enjoys being a girl!
The manga: a college student loses a bet and has to crossdress for a night out on the town, and meets and hooks up with a butch girl; they fall in love and start dating. The boy always crossdressed when they meet, and starts enjoying being "treated like a girl" in the relationship and starts crossdressing even when he doesn't have to meet his girlfriend and enjoys activities such as clothes shopping and make-up and putting on nail polish.
But don't worry, he's not trans! He's just a boy who crossdresses to please his butch girlfriend!
The manga: a guy is magically turned into a girl as a result of saving his best friend, the crown prince, from an assassination attempt. The prince decides that he has to take responsibility, and asks the new girl to marry him; despite being smitten she refuses, wanting to date first. She is later offered a way to go back to being a man, but when she does turn back she's disgusted by her own appearance and depressed all the time, ultimately deciding to stay a girl.
But don't worry, she's not trans! She's just a boy who's been magically turned into a woman! And decides not to turn back when she can! Because she's not trans! Somehow!
"But we can't write trans women in manga! It's just not something that you do!"
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[Image description: A one-comic panel. Gengar is glaring at a crowd of faceless characters; from the crowd, a speech balloon emerges, saying "You could if you weren't a fucking coward". End ID.]
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yuri-is-online · 3 months
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Why So Rude? (Or Yuu's BF Asks Crewel for their Hand in Marriage and What Happens Next Will Shock You)
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For legal reasons, this is a joke. I have been dealing with a health issue of sorts (i am not dying so no worrying ok? just v annoyed) so writing longer stuff is escaping me at the moment, enjoy some crack while I take a breather. More can be found on my masterlist here.
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NO (FLOYD, Rook, and Malleus)
Crewel has been in denial about this "relationship" since it started. Not that his disapproval is really going to stop Floyd, but Crewel 100% refers to him as "Yuu's ex boyfriend" much to the confusion of... everyone who hears that. They do find some common ground in their shared interest in fashion, but Crewel has never forgiven him for his behavior in his class OR his "stealing" Yuu's heart.
Rook on the other hand he didn't have too much of an issue with until he realized just how familiar he seemed to be with his home for someone who had supposedly only been there to visit you. The twenty page letter he wrote to confess his feelings to you didn't help either once he saw the few lines where Rook wrote about the beauty of your finger prints, but he knows his disapproval means very little to someone as obsessed with romance as Rook.
Malleus... is the King of a country genuinely hostile to humans and Crewel thinks he is a little too obsessed with Yuu for his own good. He is also not a fan of how condescending Malleus is towards his disapproval, but it's an issue that will be worked out eventually. They are fighting out of love for the same person, your safety and happiness is all they really care about at the end of the day.
No, but as a joke (Sebek and Jack)
I don't think he has anything against him really, he just wants to see how important tradition and the opinion of his elders actually is to him. When Sebek begins to plead his case because he does not wish to put a wedge between Yuu and their father figure, but cannot deny his feelings for Yuu Crewel's more than happy to "change his mind." He knows you will be happy and well looked after.
Jack is a solid partner, and he is a wolf beastman who speaks of Yuu as his soulmate, his one and only, his eternal life partner and- well. Crewel just can't resist a bit of teasing, he's always been so serious and easy to fluster about these sort of things. The sheepish look on his face when he realizes Crewel has been teasing him makes it very worth it.
I can't stop you can I... (Leona, Kalim, and Rollo)
While Crewel has faith that Leona has what it takes to save his home- he lives in the Sunset Savannah. That is really far away from the Queendom of Roses ( ; ω ; ) have some pity on your poor father he can't travel that far all the time it's bad for his skin. The pressures of being the partner of royalty is something he worries over, but a smug promise from Leona to protect you soothes his worries somewhat.
The flippant way Kalim talks about the assassination attempts is not the way Crewel wants to hear about attempts on your life or heaven forbid your death. Kalim is very sympathetic to this, he has no real argument against how ignorant he was in the past, but he isn't a child anymore. Just filled with a childlike love for the world and determination to make it better. It is hard to say no to that.
Rollo is too much like Trein. His request for your hand in marriage feels like something that the old man would cry tears of genuine joy over, so of course he hates it. Unfortunately he also knows how much this teen grandfather matters to you or whatever so the answer will be yes. At least he has an excuse to visit Fleur City more now.
Give me one good reason. (Azul, Jade, Idia, and Lilia)
Azul was such a good student that he should have zero complaints that you started dating. But he also isn't blind and dislikes being pandered to, which is very much what Azul is doing here. He does wonder briefly if this is a cultural thing and he is being insensitive, but he is still exasperated enough to not immediately say yes. The strange twinkle that comes to Azul's eyes at the prospect of negotiations makes him wish he had though.
Speaking of not being blind, what does the Leech family do and is it legal? Survey says probably yes, but Crewel remembers dealing with Jade's parents while he was in school and has no desire to feed his child to the shar- err eels. Jade immediately begins to sniffle, oh how could Crewel say such bad things about him? A poor innocent eel and blah blah blah. If Jade wasn't such a good partner he'd be cooked.
Crewel understands and appreciates the effort Idia has put in to his personal growth and he has no desire to shit on that... but S.T.Y.X. and the secrecy around it is no joke. He wants to continue having a relationship with Yuu and as soon as Idia reassures him of that he has no more objections.
Lilia is an old man, a war criminal, and a father. Of course Crewel has seen how he was able to live as a student while at NRC but his own credit as a father would be under fire if he didn't object mildly. Lilia has some fun with it and has a bit more respect for him for objecting. So long as the eventual answer is yes.
Yes (Riddle, Trey, Cater, Ruggie, Jamil, and Epel)
While Crewel does have some red flag concerns concerning Riddle's mother, he has no real objections to Riddle himself. He is a perfect gentlemen and the correct amount of nervous to be asking the question. He gets full marks, as if there would ever be any other outcome.
Trey is that sort of solid option that parents really love, but he also has that tight personal relationship with Crewel from his Science Club days. He lives in the Queendom and is tight with his own family there are few better places for Yuu to be.
While Cater isn't Crewel's favorite student, he doesn't hate him or the Shaftlands. He is also not entirely unconvinced that him asking is for a magicam trend but! He has no real major objections. He is more than ready to have two kids, as soon as Cater is willing to admit he could use a stable father figure.
I don't think that Ruggie would even suggest marrige unless he's obtained that stable, high paying job he so baldy wants and has moved his Granny out of the slums. It's the perfect time to ask for permission to propose, and while the Savannah is still super far away (r.i.p. Crewel's skin) he is much more supportive of the two of you and how far you've come.
Similarly to Ruggie, I don't think Jamil would propose to Yuu unless his personal issues with Kalim and his position with the Asim's had been sorted. He wants to actually travel on his honeymoon, and Crewel is very willing to suggest the Queendom of Roses. Jamil's ego is absolutely stroked by how Crewel had zero objections but your adoptive dad doesn't get to see how smug it makes him, Jamil saves the smirks for when you say yes.
I think that Crewel seems to like all of the first years, and Epel is no exception. Sure, his request starts out well put together and polite but devolves into a dialect that leaves Crewel with no idea of what he's saying, but he has a general idea. Of course Epel has his blessing, Harveston sounds like a lovely place for Yuu to live their life in Twisted Wonderland and Epel a perfect person to keep them safe and happy.
He already planned the wedding (Ace, Deuce, Silver and Vil)
I know what you're saying. Crewel approving of Ace? Of course he does! He was in his homeroom class, and Crewel has a soft spot for trouble makers from the Queendom, he was one after all! Sure he might have had some problems with him when you first started dating, but now, when he is deathly serious saying he wants to spend the rest of his life with you? Crewel has been waiting for this since he fist saw carrot head yanking your chain.
Deuce is a much easier sell, Crewel was always a bit harsh on his intelligence, but only because he ran a tight ship and wanted him to reach for the stars. Well he has, and he has you to support him through it, Crewel is so proud of both. He and Dilla have absolutely been hypothetically planning this for years.
While Silver's curse did not endear him to Crewel for his first two years of schooling, he really grew on him when you started going out. He's glad that you've found someone who loves you as much as Silver does, really he is. Unfortunately this means he has to plan a wedding with Lilia, something they both have been doing since you started going out and never talked about. Don't worry! They only intend to fight a lot little bit.
The instant you started dating Vil Crewel entered his mother of the bride era. The permission asking was less Vil wanting to be polite and more him coming up with a way to distract him and convince him to focus on designing the clothes. Thankfully it works and no one other than his dogs have to know just how insane the prospect of his two favorite students marrying made him.
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DPXDC Prompt. Dead on main with priest Jason: Father Todd brings the Ghost King’s cult into the World of the Living.
So, when Jason dies and returns, the League of Assassins fails to hold him for long because spirits from Far Frozen pick him up after seeing teen through the Lazarus pit.
Jason quickly realizes that, well, they’re kinda obsessed with their cult of the Great One. And yeah the cult of the ruling Ghost King was very popular during the reign of the Pariah Dark but back then the rituals were carried out more out of fear. Now things are different. The population of the Ghost Zone has become interested in the activities of Frostbite and his loyal spirits because of an attempt to understand what kind of ghost the new ruler is and how best to thank and appease him. So Jason had no shortage of stories about the teenager's deeds.
~~~~
Jason to Frostbite: Well, you guys and your lil hobby are nice but I don't understand at all what's so cool about this guy, even if he defeated Pariah Dark and gets along with most of the Ancients…
Danny: *comes to visit Frostbite*, *slips and falls three times, sets the kitchen on fire in an attempt to make coffee then sheepishly smiles at Jason*.
Jason to Frostbite: ... Okay, Understandable, I Hope Danny Has a Nice Day and Some Sleep.
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Tucker: Congratulations, you've acquired another Paulina. Great job. Danny: I'd rather he just asked me out instead of worshipping me. What the hell? I'm just a semi-ghost.
Tucker: Maybe things would be easier if you just gave him your phone number, you know? Danny: But he didn't ask. Tucker: Why didn't you ask? Danny: I couldn't! He's Robin himself, you know? Tucker: Well, good luck to you idiots to grow old alone near the altars of each other's name. Danny: Actually lil altar in his honor is not such a bad idea. Maybe this way he'll understand that I like him too.. Tucker: Danny, no!
~~~~
New in Gotham robbers break into Jason's place: Hey, father, God ordered you to share with your neighbors, so bring us some money or we.. Jason, who is talking on the phone with Danny: In fact, he just said that if you don't get out of here now, he will turn a blind eye to the fact that I will use my guns.
Danny*screams internally*: Oh Ancients, he's sooo cool!
Pandora: Honey, we're happy for you but stop flooding us with spam. You have already told 5 times during prayer how good his abs and chest look and how perfect Todd is when he reads aloud. We get it, okay? Clockwork: Well, I actually enjoy it. It's so much more interesting to watch while listening to the internal dialogue. Show must go on~ Danny: ...Get out of my mind! Nocturn: Thou shalt not take the name of the Lords in vain if you don't want to share with us, lil blob. So rude.
~~~Team Song: You Are My Religion · Firehouse~~~~
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marvellous1917 · 7 months
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Icarus Falling Far.
(Part 3)
Pairing: mob!bucky x tattoo artist!female!reader
Summary: it’s the day after giving the dangerous mobster his first tattoo, and he hasn’t contacted you yet. What a dick.
Warnings: cursing, crime, mentions of guns, stalking/harassment (brief), think that’s it.
Word count: 3.6k ish
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A/N: i had no plan to make this story into a mini-series, so if this seems a little unplanned… it is. Anyway, hope you like it my loves 😘
(This is not beta’s so any mistakes are my own)
Part 2 ⬇️:
———————
Bold is readers thoughts
Italics is Bucky's thoughts
This starts in Bucky’s POV.
———————
His home office was always the place he went to feel at peace. Ironic really, considering the dealings done within the room. The walls had seen him order his men to assassinate his rivals, to eliminate anybody that got in their way. The desk had felt the tip of the pen write extortionate contracts, sent silently to some of the cities most powerful people, the non-explicit threat sent with photos of their family’s, to reminds them what they were risking if they refused to comply. The window that felt the full strength of his prosthetic too many times to count. The hole in the floor after one of his employees managed to literally shoot himself in the foot. {guess who}
But his peace was teetering on a cliffs edge. His hands were woven into his hair, pulling to try and alleviate the headache forming. Elbows resting on his desk as his eyes stayed staring at one specific groove in the wood.
A knock at the door broke his trance and he sighed. It was a rule in the Compound that if the boss was in his office and the door was closed, you do not interrupt or enter unless there was an emergency. Only one man was brave enough to completely disregard Bucky’s rule, which had led to some… interesting situations when Bucky had girls in there with him.
“Come in,” he called, knowing the longer he waited to respond, the louder and more incessant the knocking would become.
The door opened and there was Bucky’s very own personal dumbass: Steve Rogers. The man had been a part of Bucky’s life since as long as he could remember, if-fact some of his earliest memories were with Steve; young boys playing cops and robbers together, attempting to protect Steve when he picked a fight he had no business being in- which had led to Bucky getting his ass beat as well, and scheming together about how to make sure that Simon Justin never played baseball again after pulling his sisters hair on the playground.
“Fuck me Buck, I’m not sure if today could have been anymore fucked,” Steve stated as he collapsed on to the couch, flinging his legs over one arm and resting his head in the other.
Today was a stressful fucking day.
It was the day that Bucky was making all necessary moves. Why all the problems had to pop up now, he wasn’t sure. And the kicker to this awful day? He had no time to talk to you, the girl he could not get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. You’d managed to flood his mind, memories of the kiss you shared playing over and over again.
“Did you close the door?” Bucky asked, not moving an inch.
“Yeah.”
“Good because I do not need anyone else talking to me right now,” Bucky said, his voice low and quiet, an air of danger ever-present in his tone.
“C’mon Buck, y’know you love them,” Steve responds with a dopey little smirk on his face, and he tilts his head to make eye contact with the man he calls his brother.
I hate that fuckin smile.
He softly hums his agreement and returns to inspecting the groove on his desk.
“We just gotta talk it out, figure out what the fuck is going on, then plan our next moves accordingly,” Steve says, swinging his legs back to the floor, hands clasped together, his arms leaning on his knees.
“Yeah thanks man, I didn’t think about figuring everything out, maybe I’ll give that a go now” Bucky retorts with weak sarcasm, mind too busy, replaying the events of the day.
“I can leave you alone to get lost in your head, or we can figure this shit out together. It’s your call jerk.” Steve says, tilting his head down to catch Bucky’s eye.
“Alright.”
“Stop pulling your hair jackass.” He adds.
I hate it when you do that.
Bucky drops his hands to the desk and says, “Ok let’s start this debrief with Walker.”
“Nat’s got his ass tied up in the basement for ya, he’s ready when you are.”
“Anybody looking for him?”
“One frustratingly loyal friend, but he has no idea that Johnny-boy is with us. The rest of his little fan club have no idea he’s even missing.”
“Ok, one problem down. Rumlow?” It’s the question he doesn’t want the answer to. He’d much rather spend his time thinking about you. His history with Brock Rumlow was bloody and painful, for both of them. There was only one person from his past that Bucky hadn’t dealt with, and here he was, coming back to ruin the name Bucky had made for himself.
Rumlow knew things about Bucky’s past that made him a a high security threat, but after he failed to blow himself up in an attempt to kill Bucky, he had disappeared. Bucky thought it was finally over, but the asshole popped back up about a year ago, with more power than before, making himself seemingly untouchable by Bucky’s hand.
“Currently moving like he has been, not causing too much trouble for us, though his crew are getting closer and closer to our dealings at the port.” Steve said, a slight look of digits on his face.
“Put extra hands down there for the next couple weeks, see if we can’t scare them off a little.”
“Yes boss. I’ll let them know after this.”
“The commissioner’s dealt with?” Buck asks, remembering the deviation the man had decided to make.
“Yep, send him that gift basket. He called Sam this morning and agreed to our terms.”
“Good. How’s Barton?” He asks, moving into what they class as ‘personal business’.
“Pissed, man. He wants blood for what happened, we all do.” Steve answers, the memory of seeing Clint covered in blood and bruised made his blood simmer.
“We sure it wasn’t Rumlows’ lot, or fuck even Walker?
“Walkers’ fanclub do not have the brain cells, the power, or the information to organise an attack like that, and Parker tracked Rumlow and his men, all are accounted for and have alibis. This is someone new.”
Oh for fuck’s sake. Isn’t two power hungry assholes enough.
“We haven’t found anything? No security cameras, no cell tower pings?” Bucky asks, leaning back in his chair, resting his head on the back.
“Actually, I sent Scott there this morning to check out if there was anything left there and he found something.” Steve responds, some apprehension creeping into his voice.
That got Bucky’s attention. His head snapped back up and locked eyes with Steve who now stood in-front of his desk, pacing back and forth slightly.
“Care to share with the class Rogers?” His voice was hard now, his extreme dislike of not knowing all the information shining through.
Steve exhales sharply, biting his tongue to not retort and piss Bucky off more.
“He found a package tucked behind a dumpster addressed to ‘Bucky Barnes’ that had a memory stick-“
“Like a USB?” Bucky interrupted.
“- Yeah a USB-“ he gets cut off again.
“Then just say USB, calling it a ‘memory stick’ makes you sound 100 years old.”
“-oh dear god, you gonna let me finish?” Steve responds.
Bucky waved his hand at him, a sign for him to continue.
“Scott found a package addressed to you with a USB inside, we gave it to Stark ‘cos Parker was busy tracking down Rumlows crew, and he checked it out and told us it was completely normal, no virus or anything bad in it.”
“Was there anything on it?” Bucky asks, his brow furrowed.
“It..uh..has two pictures on it.” Steve said lowly.
“…of?”
“It’s probably better if I just show you.” Steve said, his tone of voice made Bucky a little nervous.
Steve took out his phone, tapped a couple of time before turning it around to give to Bucky. As soon as the latter had ahold of the phone, Steve took a full step back, which caused Bucky to raise his eyebrows in question.
“Just look.” He says in response to Bucky’s unasked question.
He looked down at the screen and almost immediately removed his left hand as to not break the phone.
Fuck. Shit.
The first picture was of the night he met you. It was taken through the window for you apartment, and clearly showed both you and Bucky, stood side by side, looking through your flash book.
“What the fuck is this?” He pushes out through gritted teeth.
“I assuming that’s the tattoo artist you told me about, the one you got a thing for?” Steve says.
The one I’m obsessed with.
When Bucky gives him a sharp nod, Steve just drops his head, suddenly fascinated with his shoes.
“Shit.” He says under his breath.
“What?” Bucky’s voice was louder now.
“Look at the next picture.” Steve says while avoiding eye contact.
Bucky looks down, his finger swiping to the next picture before he can think about it.
No. No no fuck. Not her.
The next photo was taken from inside the apartment. Inside your bedroom. It’s of you. Asleep. Completely unaware of the danger stood at the foot of your bed.
Bucky couldn’t look away, he was frozen staring at the picture. Your shorts and oversized tee had both ridden up slightly, showing how truly vulnerable you are. The clock on your table showed the time as 3:54 and showed the date.
“…this was taken this morning.”
“..yeah.”
fuck.
———————
Fuck Bucky Barnes.
The bastard hadn’t contacted you since the shop.
Bitch ass told me to keep my phone on so I wouldn’t miss his message, kept me glued to my phone like a weirdo waiting for him to call… and he didn’t. Dick.
Despite the annoyance at the very very attractive mobster, you couldn’t help wonder how he was, what he was doing, if he was thinking about you too.
You’re overthinking about Bucky was interrupted by a knock at your door.
“One sec!” You shout to whoever’s there, getting up and walking to the door. The second you undo the lock, the door is being pushed into your face with a chorus of greetings.
“Come in I guess,” you say to the three who just walked in.
“Well thanks darlin, you got food?” Billy responds, already making his way to the fridge.
“Don’t fucking eat my pizza Bill, I swear I’ll kill you,” you answer, giving both Frank and Curtis a hug, letting the door close behind them.
He laughs off your threat as the others take a seat on your couch.
“Not that I don’t love you guys, but why the fuck are you here?” You ask, moving back to the arm chair in the corner and taking a seat, your phone pinging in the back ground.
“What, we can’t pop in on you whenever we want?” Frank says, leaning back in the arm of the couch, moving to put his feet in the coffee table.
“Frankie if you put your feet on my table, I’m gonna beat you with a spoon.” You call at him.
He freezes and slowly lowers his feet back to the floor.
“We just wanted to come see how you were…Frank told us about Barnes.” Curtis says, cutting into the conversation and completely dampening the mood.
God-fucking-dammit Frank.
Oh fuck do I tell them that he’s not an issue and I actually quite like him.
“Yeah are you ok sweetheart?” Billy asks and he collapses on the couch in the middle of the other boys.
“I’m fine guys, I swear, like I told Frank he’s actually not bad,” you answer, shifting uncomfortable lay in your seat due to the indecision of how much to tell them, “He was nice, polite and kind of…charming, I guess-”
“Is that why you kissed him?” Frank interrupts.
Shit, how does he know?
“-what?”
“You kissed him. Or rather he kissed you but you seemed to enjoy it.” Billy says with an annoying smirk on his face.
“How do you know that?” You ask, shock still written all over your face.
“..the security cameras, kid. You forget about those?”
Ahh fuck.
“Ahh fuck,” you say out loud.
“What the hell are you doing making out with a mobster, Y/N?” Curtis responds, looking at you with those eyes of his that show he’s not judging, just trying to understand.
“I..uh..I wasn’t-really-thinking.” You put you hands on your head, even though Curtis wasn’t judging you, the other two definitely were.
“Obviously you weren’t, he’s a goddam mobster Y/N-” Billy starts, anger in his voice, but you cut him off.
“I know that Bill, ok, I do,” you say, shifting to place your feet on the floor, “but he’s not the animal you think he is, he’s kind and considerate and he makes me feel…” happy. you cut off before the last word, wanting to keep that realisation to yourself for a little longer.
“Plus you bastards can’t be judging me for meeting the guy twice, only yourselves and the devil knows what fucked shit you three have been up to.” You almost shout.
“The fuck does that mean?” Frank answers.
“C’mon Frank I’m not stupid, you three have some shady shit in your pasts. I mean you were goddam military for fucks sake, and don’t think I don’t see the fake payments on the books at the shop-“
“Stop Y/N.” Billy cuts you off. “Stop it now.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving yours.
You were about to respond to his demand, when a knock sounded at the door.
“Told you to keep you phone on.” A dark voice calls through the door.
Oh shit. No no no not now please not now.
“Who the fuck is that?” Frank asks, suddenly sitting up straight, eyes pinned on the door. Both Billy and Curtis stand, facing the door as if waiting for it to bust off it’s hinges.
“Please all of you, shut the fuck up and don’t do anything dumb,” you answer, moving towards the door.
“Is that him?” Curtis asks.
“Didn’t I just say shut the fuck up,” you retort a little snappier, opening the door slightly.
He cut his hair, it’s looks good on him.
Bucky lowers his arm from his thwarted attempt at a second knock and says, “Is your phone broken or are you ignoring me?” The smirk on his face made your heart beat a little faster.
“Neither, I just missed your text because I have some friends over right now,” you say.
“Is that why you’re not opening the door properly? I can barley see you,” he says with a grin.
“…kinda? Ok wait..” you exit your apartment, pulling the door closed fully behind you, “long story short, they know about the k.. uh about what happened at the shop, and they know who you are and they are not happy about it.”
His eyes darken and his smirk grows wider at the almost mention of the kiss. He shifts until he’s leaning his shoulder on the wall by your door.
“Oh yeah? Doesn’t really matter what they think though, does it doll? Both you and I know how much you enjoyed it.” He says, mouth forming a cheeky grin.
Oh my god.
“Me? You’re the one who started it Bucky, seemed you enjoyed it more,” you respond, having no idea where the confidence came from.
He hums at your statement and says “Well I can admit that I did enjoy our kiss sweetheart, but I may need a little reminder of how it went, it’s been a long day you see.”
“Bucky-” you’re cut of by him stepping closer until your chests are barley touching, the new position making you tilt your head back to see him better.
“What darlin? You ok with this?” He asks slowly, tilting his head to the side slightly, looking into your eyes for any sign of discomfort.
Why does he have to be so sweet.
You nod in answer to his question and he smiles. Not the terrifying grin or the cheeky smirk, but a genuine smile - one that makes him even more beautiful. Bucky raises his right arm, dragging his thumb over your lips and cupping your cheek while you stare up at him, his other hand sneaks around your back, pulling you flush to him.
“You have no idea what to do to me, do ya?” He mumbles, probably not intending for you to respond as he’s closing the gap between you. The kiss is harsh and a little messy, shocking you slightly with his apparent desperation, hands holding you tightly. He takes advantage of your shock, tracing your lips with his tongue and pushing past to deepen the kiss.
His hand drops from you face to your waist, gripping so tightly, you’re sure he’ll have left a bruise. That thought got you’re heart pumping faster, the idea that an imprint of his hands, his fingers would be left on your skin. It felt right. Bucky pushes you until your back hits the wall, hips fitting against yours almost perfectly, one leg sneaking between yours as you let a light whimper escape.
You break the kiss to get some air, leaning your forehead against his, both of you catching your breath.
“Bucky, I mis-”, you didn’t get to finish the sentence before your door opens and you’re suddenly faced with three pissed off ex-marines.
-(Bucky’s P.O.V)
Bucky immediately steps back, releasing you, and straightens his posture. He looks at the men, quietly analysing them. He can tell that they either are or were military, and definitely care immensely about you, probably to the point of beating the crap out of anyone that hurt you.
The one in the middle is a frightening creature , he thinks, but the wedding band means he has something to loose, he should be less quick to anger, in theory.
The one on the right with the short buzz cut and the tense muscles reminds him of Clint, he’s ready to fight at the drop of a hat, and by the look on his face, I’m gonna be his next target.
The man on the left intrigued Bucky the most. His face is blank, showing nothing. He’s favouring one of his legs, and the other shows a bulky piece of metal at the bottom. Wonder if that’s an old military injury.
“Guys, what are you doing?” You ask, apprehension in your voice. Bucky wonders if you’re scared for them or for him.
“Oh we are gonna head out, let you have some time to really think about what we talked about.” The man in the middle says, putting emphasis on the word really.
“Frank please-”
“No it’s ok sweetheart,” Bucky bristles at the pet name the Clint wannabe says, “we’ll see you later.”
“Billy-”
“Shit, I left my phone on your table, could you get it for me?” The other says to you, cutting off your words, smiling at you to calm the stressed look on your face.
“Of course Cutis, one sec,” you respond, Turing to Bucky at the end of your sentence with a look at says please don��t make this worse.
You pass by the men and let the door fall closed behind you.
The silence is tense as the men all stare at each-other.
“So…how’s your man doing? Y’know the one that got jumped,” Billy says, smirking at Bucky.
“How do you know that?” Bucky asks as his muscles tense.
“…Y/N told us, obviously,” Billy says.
The pause was intentional, she didn’t tell them that.
“He’s fine, thanks.” Bucky responds shortly, all to aware of the lie he was just told.
The door opens just before Billy can respond, all four men going silent again.
“Here it is Curtis, guess I’ll see you guys later then,” you say, before hugging each man.
The three shoulder past Bucky as if he was just a man on the street, no care in the world that he could have them killed for that disrespect. But he lets this one slide, for her, as they’re her friends.
“Did you tell them about Clint?” He knows it was a lie but he needs to make sure his cynical brain isn’t marking it up.
“No? Why?” You answer, unaware of the turmoil occurring in Bucky’s head.
Then how the fuck do they know.
“Give me one minute doll, I forgot something at the car,” he says, “go on inside I’ll be back soon.”
“Uh.. okay.” You answer, walking back into the apartment.
He watches the door and as soon as it closes he is moving back down the stairs, hoping to catch and ask the men how they knew about Clint. Bucky normally has an reasonable explanation for everything, but this time he was stumped. He catches them outside the front door to the building, the three of them stood leaning against their car, watching the door, waiting for him to come out.
“How do you know?” He repeats his question from before, voice lower and more dangerous now.
“Y’know…that bastard has a solid right hook.” Billy says. The sentence sends red hot anger through Bucky’s blood.
It was them. But that means…
“Did you get our package?” The big one in the middle asks, Frank, she called him.
Fuck. The anger that has been burning in his veins since the second he saw those photos of you pours out of him and he immediately pulls a gun on Frank.
“Hey now that’s not smart, is it?” Curtis asks in a placating tone.
“Don’t forget about our girl up there. What’s she gonna think if you shoot me for no reason?” Frank says, unflinching staring down the barrel of Bucky’s gun.
Fuck. Fuck. These bastard are the ones threatening everything, they jumped Clint and are using you to get to him. They’re your friends and you? You have absolutely no idea.
————
Yo this took so long to do!! Hope you like my lil twisty turn at the end there 😈.
Lemme know what u think 😘
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scintillyyy · 3 months
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the steph brown conundrum aka the problem with steph being a character with hugely divergent doylist and watsonian readings
okay, so like. there is always a part of me that feels that to this day, didio kind of won when it came to the destruction of steph's character. like she wasn't a toxic character like he thought before he got his hands on her, but since he did & there was fallout from it, it has completely destroyed dc's desire to do anything potentially interesting with her, even as they've brought her back. like. she will always just kind of be a shell of her former self, doomed to stay uncontroversial and in the background. because when it comes to steph, and the problem with utilizing steph as a character now, you have to acknowledge two things
steph from an editorial and out of universe perspective was treated horrifically. the nonsensical and terrible things they made her do to move along the plot of post-crisis are awful and excessively reckless to the point of intentional character assassination & it was all done to justify her fridging for bruce's (and tim's) manpain which is awful
but the things that steph did as a result of the above are extremely load-bearing and important on plot and character dynamics and motivations from war games all the way to reborn era & to try and remove or minimize things that happened as a result of those actions just because they were arguably out of character from her has the unfortunate result of completely and intentionally warping the characterization of everyone who interacts with her to the point where it negatively affects almost every single other character instead.
so in order to show this we need to start at war games, talk about what happened, & go into how this affects things & why her character assassination is not as easy to fix as cass's or leslie's
so war games. ah war games. you know, having recently reread it, war games is frustrating because it's arguably a semi good event for most everyone except steph and leslie (especially leslie--now that was character assassination.). so let's get into the bare bones of what exactly happens in war games (war games being the three main events of this time: war drums (the prequal), war games proper, & war crimes (the follow up & worst part of the event)) (and i'm not saying i necessarily agree with this, just. this is what we have to consider.)
war drums:
this event has two main stories - the bruce & leslie story and the steph becomes robin story
in the bruce & leslie story (which is definitely racist), we have a young teenage pregnant girl who shows up at leslie's clinic having been shot. leslie attempts to save the girl and baby, but is left in a precarious situation where only one can be saved. she reluctantly calls bruce for help finding the girl's family, who finds out that the girl in question is popstar l'shea's sister--the popstar and her entourage in question kidnap leslie & the girl & bruce finds them, where it's revealed the girl is actually l'shea's daughter (like i said. racist.). l'shea makes the decision to save the baby, which kills the girl. leslie tries to get bruce to see that he can't save everyone, and ultimately gets upset about the cycle of violence she feels he perpetuates when he goes to take mr. freeze back in. she later comes to talk to bruce & it ends on a positive note fairly consistent with the bruce & leslie relationship--one in which leslie wishes he could devote himself to saving lives nonviolently & hoping he could see her as an example. my only quibble is that bruce responds as "ha-ha" leslie when if you compare to the batman chronicles #18, bruce absolutely counts on her to challenge his worldview & be a shining example of what he cannot be.
we do start to see the seeds of character assassination for leslie here imo, though this part is the best understanding of her by far--she's always been a foil to bruce as far as her pacifism and her determination to try and show him that there are other ways than his crusade, but traditionally she's always been defined as well by her immense love for him & he for her. she fundamentally disagrees with his crusade, but she's going to be there for him because she knows there's good in him that's worth saving--because to leslie, every life, including bruce's, is worth saving. anyways, read the batman chronicles #18, where she's determined to use O- blood on zsasz because of her firm commitment to the belief that every life is precious & she and bruce talk about their differences in opinion but how she's determined to keep showing him there's another way & he wants her to do so. this leslie who has, up until this event, been troubled by his crusade--but has decided it's tireless, but worth it to show him the good in people, suddenly seems a lot more, hm. overtly hateful of how batman operates & the fact that he puts criminals back in prison just for them to break out and the cycle to continue & has a sudden desire to not work with him if at all possible because of her total disagreement with his methods. which is. hm. somewhat but not entirely consistent with leslie's motivation. leslie would have no problem asking bruce for help if it meant saving an innocent & the fact that he believes in the redemption of criminals is something she inherently believes in. anyways i digress-
the other main story is, as we all know, the steph becomes robin story. and while you do not have to agree with how it is written wrt stephanie, the barebones of what exactly transpires is thus: tim has quit robin for his dad. he is attempting to live a normal life--go to school, hang out with friends, & not do the vigilante thing even when he sees people in need. he meets up with steph, who tells him of her determination to return to spoiler now that her broken leg has healed & he tells her that it's very hard for him to leave the house on account of jack always being suspicious that he's going out to be robin & be involved in anything vigilante again (it is implied that this is the first time he had been able to get out in a while because of his dad, as he didn't know she got her cast off). one day, when tim is at school, darla aquista, who has a crush on him, kisses him out of the blue. this happens to be seen by steph, who is now officially active again & chooses to be active during the day as a result of wanting to avoid batman as she doesn't have his approval, has gone over to tim's school to check on him because she's suspicious he's hiding something from her other than he's basically under house arrest from his dad atm since it had been so long since she had seen him. it, of course, looks terrible to her and she flounces off--deciding that she's going to become robin. bruce agrees, which everyone--alfred, barbara, eventually tim, etc completely understands to be a scheme to lure tim back. steph proceeds to completely ghost tim for the next two months--he calls and leaves messages, and she never calls back or comes to see him at all--she is completely radio silent & avoiding him and he doesn't know why but he is worried. bruce tells stephanie that she will not be privy to any secrets & the minute she disobeys an order she's out (a double standard, yes, but completely consistent in that he, again, is using her basically only to lure tim back). meanwhile, scarab is hunting tim, killing boys in his age range with dark hair and their families in an attempt to kill robin as there is a contract out for his life. tim then finds out through the newspaper that the reason steph has been avoiding him is because she became robin & calls the batcave to finally talk to steph & ask her to meet so they can finally talk in perso. about what exactly happened and how on earth steph became robin. cassandra comes instead--steph doesn't show up because batman and robin are busy hunting scarab who is trying to kill tim/previous robin & tim needs to be put under protection. steph gets a tracking device on scarab. day 49, bruce and steph go to get scarab, bruce goes in while steph is let behind for support in the batplane, bruce gets blinded, steph disobeys bruce and comes in to help, steph gets caught by scarab, scarab gets away in the batplane because steph forgot to arm the security system. steph officially gets fired 3 weeks later for disobeying an order on day 71.
yea, it's something. but it is what it is.
war games:
so we get to war games proper. overnight, a gang war has erupted & set the city ablaze and into chaos after a letter was sent out calling all the crime bosses to the harbor where a firefight breaks out on account of the main player who was supposed to be there if those letters were sent out, matches malone, not showing up. since tensions are high, it's easy for then to start shooting and killing each other & in doing so creates an immediate and widespread vacuum of power in the criminal underworld of gotham that people leap to try to fill & wipe out their competition in the meantime. innocent people are caught in the crosshairs.
nightwing (who is already having a terrible time) shows up to help (with tarantula) & is personally dealing with the emotional fallout of letting tarantula kill blockbuster amongst other things.
barbara is doing her best to help out and triage people to help, but there's really only batman, batgirl, nightwing, tarantula, & orpheus against a whole city. and at this point, tarantula has taken over a gang under batman's command to try and control things and can't overtly help & orpheus was already in control of a gang under batman's command in an attempt to protect women & children and exert some control over the criminal underbelly of gotham and also cannot overtly help out.
stuff with hush is happening in gotham knights but i don't care aj lieberman, by god, i do not care.
tim is doing his best to go about his day and keep his promise to his dad and not go out to help despite the fact that the city is falling apart. this becomes harder when a rival gang comes to kill his friend darla aquista at their high school, on account of her father being a mob boss. the kids are panicked and run into the school for sanctuary and safety, but are followed in and darla is shot.
what happens next is that tim's school is taken over by gangsters--the ones who came to kill darla, and the ones who see the opportunity to kill the ones who are trying to kill darla--and the kids are trapped in there with them, doing their best to hide, but some are taken hostage & are at the mercy of their captives (kids are killed). tim shelters in the nurses's office & does his best to go out and help who he can bring to safety, alone with getting a lay of the school (which gang is where).
meanwhile, bruce, cass, & dick have been informed that tim's school is taken over and kids are dying. along with all their other current trauma, they have to go find tim in an active shooter zone where he could very well be dead. dick gets to be the one who finds him (such a traumatic time for dick btw), and he's thankfully okay. they get control back of the school and free the kids. batman comes out on live television holding darla's body--she's not dead yet, but she's close.
we find out where steph is. selina finds her and we finally find out why this happened: upset at getting fired and frustrated that she's never been able to truly land their approval, steph lashed out & stole a plan designed to unite the crime families in gotham under batman's control hoping that if she was able to set off a plan for batman & it worked he would take her back and she'd finally have his approval. however, the main man didn't show up and it fell to pieces--doomed to fail. and the reason that this all happened is because steph was never told that batman is matches malone. there's actually a ton of 'bruce what have you done' here. catwoman shelters steph & tells her to stay put. steph does not do so, she leaves so she can try to find orpheus & help get the situation under control because she knows he's key to the plan.
tim, unable to stand by any longer despite his promise to his dad after the thing at the school, returns to the manor where he is greeted by alfred & returns to being robin.
batman finally also realizes that what happened is his war game contigency plan/hypothetical/thought experiment just as a citywide blackout hits--a plan he never intended to implement, it was one of his hypotheticals. & they also start looking for orpheus, as he's the key because they need to keep him alive as the plan was for the criminal underworld to reform united under his, and therefore batman's, rule.. steph finds him first, just in time to see his throat slit--by black mask.
steph gets into a one v one altercation with black mask and is overpowered and at his mercy. he tortures her. it's gross, we all know.
tim tells his dad he's returned to being robin. we get what is probably some of the best jack drake charactetization. tim meets jack and dana so they can go help out at leslie's clinic to help the injured.
steph, eventually, after being tortured, finally tells black mask that the plan required orpheus and is now obsolete because orpheus is dead.
cass is looking for steph because she's probably the only one aware that steph is out as spoiler & she knows that the last time she saw steph steph was lying to her about something
leslie is currently acting extremely out of character. and she's kind of a jerk to cass when cass comes looking for steph & is downright hateful about his mission. (which. is ooc for leslie--while she's never agreed with bruce's mission she's always, always, loved and respected them all--consider her in NML vs here. she wants to end his crusade and him to do something better, but she's always looking to be a beacon of hope that there is another way. every disagreement should be steeped in her love for them).
hush is still here for some reason and will tell black mask where the batcave is
catwoman is concerned about steph--who has passed out from the torture--calling her "the kid you messed up so badly she started this whole mess"
batman takes over oracle's & the police's system by force. we're really in it now. steph wakes up, determined to get to batman to tell him about orpheus's death.
black mask, however, has taken over orpheus's identity and is contacting batman, ostensibly to continue the "plan". and darla officially dies, meaning her father is out for revenge and wants everyone killed.
batman meets up with black mask as orpheus & figures out spoiler was there, but he assumes she fought zeiss. he leaves, black mask is planning...something as orpheus.
batman has barbara take over the police waves once more. barbara is getting really sick if this shit.
gotham city is starting to rail against vigilantes as a result of the widespread chaos of war games, calling for them to turn themselves in.
batman has orpheus call a grand meeting. ostensibly to end things and ensure peace in gotham with everything unified under orpheus's commands. orpheus is, however, dead. black mask uses the meeting to set everything ablaze again & barbaba has to call off the vigilantes from helping to protect the gcpd to go help batman--this is the straw that breaks the camel's back of this causes an official break in the uneasy alliance between vigilante & gcpd and comissioner akins gives the order to shoot to kill vigilantes on sight (as also, as a result of the plan failing due to orpheus's murder it seems as if batman et al are on the side of the villains causing mayhem)
at this point the game it out of control & they have to focus on stopping it. cass finally has a chance to talk to batman and tell him her suspicions that steph was the one who set the entire thing into motion, which he has now figured out (on account of him finding traces of spoilers's at orpheus's)
dick gets shot in the leg by the police while fighting firefly
tim meanwhile is happy to return to robin, and actually has bunch of nice things to say about steph's time as robin--that she kept things light for bruce, that he's not too proud to learn from her--even if he did admittedly resent her a little bit for how it all went down. he's also currently in the middle of a breakdown over darla's death and is pretending everything's okay by just go go going.
steph has freed herself from her bonds and gets into it with black mask, finally overpowering him when she realizes "this isn't a game". she gets a gun to his head & wants to pull the trigger and end him for good, but can't--as that would mean betraying everything she's been taught. the hesitation costs her and black mask gets the gun and shoots her in the shoulder & kicks her down the stairs & leaves
she manages to get herself up despite her extensive injuries and escapes by rooftop, where she's finally found by batman, who brings her to leslie and begs her to save steph. he then tells her she did good & that she did everything she could & that the city owes her after everything she went through.
and black mask is still causing trouble--hush supposedly told him the location of the batcave & he plans to solidify his reign as the undisputed crime lord of gotham by sending everyone there--it's not the batcave, however--it's the clocktower. all the criminals are now converging on and headed for directly for barbara. they get in and make it past all her defenses and invade her safe space, black mask making it to her control room & taking her hostage. the gcpd also descend upon the clocktower.
batman goes ham and almost kills black mask, saying it'd be worth it to end everything that's transpired. tim creates a diversion by lying saying they'll turn themselves into the police. barbara blows up her clocktower so that bruce has to make the decision between saving her & killing black mask. bruce chooses to save her & it's over. bruce gets called to leslie's clinic, where it turns out steph had too much internal damage to save her. steph tells him that she started it all, and bruce says he knows but that they took care of it. he tells her that tim isn't mad at her and that the baby she had won't want for anything ever. he lies and says that taking her on as robin wasn't just to bring tim back, that she was really robin & that he'll be watching over her. she dies. black mask takes over as the new criminal overlord of gotham city.
as a result of all of the above, we get the following: gotham is no longer safe for vigilantes to operate. tim has been set in motion on the path of loss from darla to steph to his dad in another event that will eventually lead him to the mental space he needs to be in to become red robin and leaves for bludhaven. cass follows in her grief of all that transpired. dick is out of commission due to his gunshot wound & dealing with the fallout of working with bruce while feeling like he doesn't deserve to, but is also the only one left to work with bruce. barbara, whose safe haven was trampled upon and destroyed, feels gotham to go be with the birds of prey in another city. bruce is operating all but alone, save for a couple of other distant vigilantes.
we find out that bruce didn't--couldn't--tell tim steph had died until hours after the fact, and that's when tim was finally able to hear the whole story as to how steph became robin all the way to how the gang war got started. this is also when dick finds out the whole story as well.
and thus, war games ends
war crimes:
so we make our way to the epilogue of this storyline. the very aptly named war crimes
the public is still railing against vigilantes. it comes out publicly that stephanie brown was spoiler, then robin, and that her injuries were not thus that should have killed her. batman finds out and goes to leslie's to find out who leaked stephanie's information, only to find out leslie has resigned and her chief resident left with her. batman finds the resident, murdered in a clear attempt to set batman up. (it's black mask setting him up). a man named aaron black is railing against black mask, batman, & the gcpd for the gang war
we find out that treatment was deliberately withheld from stephanie and she was purposely left to die. we find out aaron black is the not so dead arthur brown. & we find out that crystal knows something and is prepared to spill it all. black mask comes dressed as batman to attack crystal brown on live tv. we find out the joker is after black mask for killing robin. the joker gets arrested, black mask gets arrested (and escapes), a tv reporter gets indicted, the leader of the odessa mob gets indicted, commissioner akins and athur brown don't get indicted, and batman has finally figured out who killed stephanie and goes to africa where she fled to.
in, quite possibly, the greatest moment of character assassination in this entire gd event we find out it was leslie who let stephanie die because she was tired of batman's crusade, destroying everything she once stood for just to prove a point to bruce about the senselessness of it all and to try and put an end to it. congrats to dc for this horrific epilogue.
so there it is--the entire event. it certainly is a thing that happened. and that's the problem--it happened. and it was very, very much intended as a personal fuck you and goodbye to the characters of stephanie brown and leslie thompkins. and that's terrible on so many levels. but unfortunately the fact of the matter is, despite that and regardless of any personal feelings about it, war games became a load-bearing event to batman canon.
because war games had so much influence on fundamentally upheaving and changing the status quo of the characters involved and storylines following this could not happen without war ganes existing. without war games, tim does not become the tim that will eventually become red robin. without war games, dick is not injured and out of commission and does not flee to new york and the mob, leaving bludhaven for tim and cass and on his passively suicidal mission that will eventually lead to infinite crisis and the one year boat ride. without war games, barbara does not leave gotham because she needs to leave it behind, only to return during the reborn era & all the tension that entails. without war games, bruce doesn't end up alone & isolated as needed for the red hood storyline. without war games, stephanie is not killed and thus can't be evolved into batgirl as an apology for the way she was treated. the dynamics caused by war games are essential to the stories that come after it. and then you're left with two very, very uncomfortable truths:
one, war games was a horrific fuck you and. fridging to a female character solely because of the evil sexism present at dc editorial at the time and of course you want to delete anything that had such awful intentions behind it
two, war games happening is essential to the trajectory of every single bat characters' story that comes after it including hers. and so it had to happen. and the thing with war games is that steph, while not completely to blame for it transpiring, was humongous part of it transpiring no matter what. because we end up with what it seems to me, the grand circle of blame. it goes as follows: war games never would have happened if bruce hadn't made his contingency plan to begin with -> yes, but. even if it is one of bruce's toxic traits to do that, he never intended for the contingency to go into effect and it was more of a hypothetical than anything and the only reason it ever saw the light of day was because steph stole it and put it into action -> yes, but. if bruce had been less of an asshole and told steph the basic information of matches malone is batman she wouldn't have made the mistake -> yes, but. to completely blame bruce is to remove any and all agency from steph, because nobody put a gun to her head and forced her to implement the plan, that was entirely her decision. and as much as we would have liked her to have decided she no longer needed batman's approval, the fact of the matter is she did want it and she did make the decision to send those letters -> yes but, if bruce hadn't had a contigency to begin with she wouldn't have had such an awful plan to steal -> yes, but having contigencies for plans that will never come to fruition is honestly a normal thing for them and bruce planning out a hypothetical is just another tuesday, and it was steph who set it into motion -> yes, but... and so on and so forth endlessly until the end of time. like, whether things were out of character or whatnot is a valid discussion (though all comics characters are doomed for stories where they're out of character), but putting that aside: the fact is, for every character's trajectory into the reborn era, war games had to happen. and for war games to have ever seen the light of day and happened, steph had to make the decision to send those letters.
and so we're left with this. steph made those decisions because of horrificly sexist behind the scenes decisions. if steph didn't make those decisions, then no other character trajectory makes sense. and that's how we end up with a steph conundrum that is so much harder to fix than any other character assasination of the time. because cass's was easy to retcon as brainwashing, it makes sense for slade being involved. leslie was easy to retcon as faking steph's death, that removes her intent to kill a child and restores her original characterization of every life is sacrosanct. but war games? war games does not and can not happen unless stephanie decides to send those letters. things with tim and barbara and cass and even through steph becoming batgirl don't happen unless steph sends those letters. and when she sends those letters, hundreds of innocent people die and even though bruce is largely to blame (and is blamed, by the narrative), there is a culpability of steph's active decision in the entire mess that exists.
and if that culpability exists, if she sent those letters and war games happened, and innocent people died and barbara had to blow up her home and tim had to do cpr with darla's blood pouring over his hands and dick got shot in the knee and had to find tim in an active massacre, and cass lost herself to grief, then from an in-universe perspective while it's easy to for them to blame bruce for the majority of it, it also is true that every single one of those people has the right to question whether she is capable of making good judgements because of the extremely bad one she made that had so many in-universe consequences & they were all victims of it. from an out of universe perspective, it is so, so, so hard to put that kind of culpability on her, though, because of the sexism involved in deciding to make her make those decisions.
(as an aside. you also get this same issue that occurs as a part of the last arc of the robin series--wherein in order to justify steph no longer being spoiler and graduate her to batgirl, they need her to make a mistake so bad it would justify the idea that spoiler is a tainted mantle & she can't go back to it--so they decide that she needs to hire assassins to try and kill tim under batman's orders. now this is stupid & nonsensical, and she makes a mistake like that due to writer sexism thinking that that was the way to go. but her making that mistake and hiring those assassins is essential to the overall self isolation of tim & him being unable to trust her amongst everyone else that he needs to be in the headspace to kick of red robin & steph needs to have made a mistake that taints the spoiler mantle & makes people not want her to be it otherwise why would she become batgirl... it's messy. very messy.)
but because of all the horrific sexism out of universe behind the decision to write her to do these things, you're left with. hm. it is hard to want to make her have any culpability because that would just be entrenching the sexist writing she's had & she was the biggest victim, but to just completely throw it out is to make every other character appear completely irrational and unreasonable when it comes to dealing with steph. and that's truly hard for dc--who, once they make her a headlining character in her own right as batgirl, now has to be a lot more careful when dealing with steph. because if any other character does have reasonable concerns about steph continuing to exist as a vigilante after the decisions she made that sparked off war games, or hire assassins for tim, or etc etc etc then you risk people being like "no, maybe these people have a point. maybe these people shouldn't have to work with her if they feel at all uncomfortable by decisions she made that resulted in truly terrible times for them."
so you end up. dc finally has to do something grand, something triumphant for stephanie's character to make up for the completely atrocious way she was treated before. and you get batgirl 2009, which is a triumph for her character, it's the approval she's always deserved but never given, she finally gets to show all her naysayers that she's worth it--that they were all wrong about her and she deserves to be there just as much as them. and she does deserve a big doylist apology--she was treated terribly & cruelly & it wasn't right for dc editorial to do so. but you run into. hm. this problem of in order to make this big doylist apology work, you need everything that came before it to have happened. because it's a big doylist apology you can't actually have it that those things to have happened because if steph has to prove herself to the naysayers, the naysayers have to be completely wrong about her.
and that's hard given we're in reborn era and bruce is "dead". because in that case, steph's naysayers have to be barbara, tim, & dick. and while steph shouldn't have to prostrate herself for forgiveness & they shouldn't blame her for everything ever (they've all had their own issues where they've made mistakes, some with tragic consequences, and therefore can't call the kettle black), the problem with having to make them her naysayers is that you have to make them unreasonable about her & that's hard to do when they were all victims of something that occurred in part due to a decision she made. you have barbara, who should be able to have reasonable concerns about whether steph is fit for the job because she had to blow up her own sace space because steph sent those letters. but you can't acknowledge that because that would be entrenching the sexism behind that decision. so you make it so barbara is the one in the wrong about her. you have dick, who should not be able to look at stephanie without remembering his little brother calling him, wanting to commit suicide over everything that's happened, without remembering the tim at the edge of the pit, without remembering getting the call-code 619-and realizing that tim's at the site of a massacre occurring at his school and could be dead, and he gets to realize he was completely wrong about her with no consideration to what complicated personal feelings he may have about her on account of his own most precious relationships. you have tim, who does have things to apologize to her about, to be sure, but has to be cast as completely in the wrong despite the things she did having to have happened such as hire assassins & everything he had to endure as a result of her sending those letters. and that's not to say that any of this means that she shouldn't be a vigilante of course, you can't have a double standard where male characters are allowed to make mistakes and continue on regardless of mistakes made and not afford that same grace to female characters. but at the same time, it's uncomfortable to cast barbaba, dick, and tim in the role of naysayers to be overcome because that erases their victimization by the events that had to have happened in order to make it to this point. and again, they don't have to blame her to feel like it's her fault to have reasonable discomfort because discomfort =/= blame, necessarily.
and you get into this entire mess solely because of the decisions didio made because he hated her character and was determined to destroy it. and it's gross! we hate didio! but like. way back to my original thought, in a way, he did succeed a little. because of the horrific things that happened to her due to cruel and gross out of universe editorial decisions, you do have to be extra delicate with the character. you've lost the ability to show steph making any sort of mistake that has significant ramifications because to do so is to go back to war games & all the baggage that that entails. you need to play it incredibly safe with her. she can't be shown to be in the wrong because of the horrific way she was treated. at the same time, you need things to have happened, but you need things to not have happened. it's just a lot of baggage for a character, and there's probably a reason why they still play it safe by sticking her with tim (until they broke up) and now cass. it's uncontroversial after everything she's been put through. idk. i think current continuity is the best chance to finally really do something interesting with her again given that the mistakes of the past are so softened and don't need to be forefront to the character anymore because we are in an era ripe for things happened but they didn't happen, but will they? i don't know.
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cryptidclaw · 5 months
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Star Tigerclaw
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Design Notes:
Here he is!!! Tigerclaw based on a white tiger!!! love this design so much ??? omggg
he has his mother Snowstorm's blue colorpoint gene , but he has dark black stripes like his dad Thistleclaw!
Character Bio:
Star Tigerclaw
Straight; Cis Tom; he/him
Age as of 1st arc's beginning: 4 cycles, 4 moons; ~33 Hyrs
Title meaning: -claw =  a cat who is very skilled in battle; they fight ferociously with their claws; may have distinctive claws, most likely extra large or sharp.
Warrior -> Guard Charge -> Second of Thunder Order; he was in line due to being Star Bluefrost's nephew. He was banished for murder and an attempted takeover of the Order.
Leader of Shadow Order; was in no way in line for Shadow leadership, he convinced the Order that he would be their best choice for leadership, as he came from a long line of powerful leaders and he would keep the Order strong after their many recent losses.
Second: Vulturemask; was in line and should have been leader due to being the previous Shadow Leader (Star Brokentail)'s Second and mate.
Mentor: Star Sunfall
Mother: Snowstorm
Father: Thistleclaw
Siblings: Sky; Shine; Shimmer; Lynxstorm
Ex-Mates: Goldenflower; Star Leopardpelt (Political marriage, ended when Tiger died)
Kits: Swift; Brambleflower; Star Tawnyclaw; Mothwing; Tadpolefrog; Star Hawkfrost
Grandkits: Falconclaw; Jaywing; Dove; Dawnpelt; Goldenheart; Flamespirit; Dovesong; Ivythorn; Junipersnow; Dandeliondust
Other notable kin: Star Pineheart (grandfather); Leopardfoot (Grandmother); Sootfur (nephew); Sorreltail (niece); Rainwhisker (nephew)
Character notes: Tigerclaw actually did truly love Goldenflower, and he was actually a pretty good mate and father before this betrayal was revealed. Golden cat divorced him during his banishment and Tiger chose to become mates with Star Leopardpelt soon after as a political marriage, this relationship was loveless and only for political gain and a continuation of their bloodline through their kits.
Character Backstory:
Tigerclaw and Lynxstorm were Thistleclaw and Snowstorm's second litter, their first was one of three kits which all tragically passed due to a premature birth (their names, Sky, Shine and Shimmer were given in reference to the Stars, as they joined them almost as soon as they were born).
Thistleclaw took great interest in Tigerclaw, as he was the strongest, and most alike him out of the pair of brothers. Due to this Tiger was greatly influenced by Thistle, with his father trying to pass on as much of his ideals and attitude as possible. The tom often gave Tiger extra training sessions in the dark forest, or during the night, sometimes White would be included as well though he never went to the Dark Forest (Thistle knew that White would tell on them).
Snowstorm died early on into her sons' apprenticeships and as a result Thistle became even more rash and cruel which only increased the extreme extra training Thistle put Tiger, and sometimes Lynx under. Thistleclaw's cruelty and actions made his sons hate him (they had also noticed how cruel he could be to their mother before her death as well, and hated him even more for it), White stayed away from his father all together, however Tiger wanted to continue training with him to increase his power and skill.
Despite hating his father and denying that he would ever become a cat like him, Tiger took on much of Thistle's teachings, the tom is adamantly anti-outsider and codebreaking and is very bloodthirsty just like his father. Though maybe Tigerclaw never fully believed the anti mixed blood, outsider and adamant code following ideals, maybe deep down he just liked them because it gave him power over other cats, and a seemingly "devout" and "loyal" exterior.
The first cat Tiger ever killed was Thistleclaw, after Thistle's grooming of Spotted was revealed Tiger joined Bluefrost, Lynxstorm and Redtail in assassinating Thistleclaw. Tiger hated his father and despite him agreeing with many of his views, he was horrified by his actions towards Spotted. He had other motives as well, Thistle was a high ranking warrior who used his power to control Tiger for his own gain, Tiger did not want to be anyone's pawn, he wanted the power for himself. After killing his father Tiger realized how much he liked the power in killing a cat, which wasn't all to surprising, but it was all the more reason he was so willing to kill later in his life.
Despite being an obviously bloodthirsty and increasingly cruel cat, Bluefrost refused to believe that her nephew was anything like his father. She desperately wanted to trust her sister's kits, and Tigerclaw was apprenticed to Blue's pseudo father Star Sunfall who Blue was certain would counteract any of Thistle's impact on Tiger. Of course Blue didn't know about Tiger's extra training, nor did she know about his secret lust for power.
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plutogist · 5 months
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HANG OUT WITH THEM
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i. part two: hang out with these characters (part one)
ii. gender neutral. reader | unedited version (lmk if I used any gendered terms!)
iii. cw: spoilers in manga (chrollo's part), mentions of death, massacre/slaughter, torture, trauma, and violence. stealing, fluff & semi-angst (?)
iv. characters: gon freecs, killua zoldyck, kurapika kurta, chrollo lucilfer, feitan portor.
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GON FREECS
You hang out with the boy a lot as the two of you develop a rapport with one another and grow closer. The two of you would often be perched on top of a tree branch as he casts his fishing line into the middle of a swamp. He would ask you questions about your past, how you lived in YorkNew City, and even about yourself constantly while he was fishing.
Talking to Gon is comforting, although he is extremely enthusiastic. You might find yourself baffled as to how he appears to be fulfilled while not harboring any unwelcome feelings or thoughts. But naturally, that wasn't the only thing. He would take you around the town's outskirts. And to pass the time if you were in his place, you two would play a variety of board games.
KILLUA ZOLDYCK
When Gon wasn't allowed to practice Nen for two months because of his injudicious decision of fighting Gido, you and Killua trained together without Nen because Killua don't want Gon to be left behind. Since neither of you was particularly talkative throughout your training session-unlike Gon, who frequently emits a lot of commotion when the three of you are together-it was really awkward and silent.
You're just reluctant to approach him because you two weren't really close. But even so, he would give you advice on how to grow more powerful and tell you about what you should concentrate on. As an outcome, the more you two trained together over the course of the two months, the closer you two grew.
The two of you are hardly alone together unless it involves training, combat, etc. The three of you traveled to Whale Island after leaving Heaven's Arena to meet Mito Freecs, Gon's aunt, and Abe, his great-grandmother. They were quite friendly to you, and his great-grandmother told you and Killua plenty of stories about Gon. Gon once left the two of you because his aunt asked him to go get some supplies she needed to prepare later.
You offered your assistance to Aunt Mito with the laundry. Killua was watching you as you washed the clothes since he isn't really sure how he can help you or do things like that. He would speak about his experiences and escapades as an experienced assassin, a member of the notorious Zoldyck family, and the future heir to the family to keep you entertained. However, it wasn't all that entertaining to hear about how he was actually tortured as a baby.
You also shared your stories with him when you were younger. Being from your typical family, you didn't find it particularly interesting. To your surprise, Killua laughed and thought you were humorous when you were younger because of both your foolishness and your intrepid nature. You attempted tossing him your left slippers, but he deftly sidestepped it. Indeed, the day was enjoyable.
KURAPIKA KURTA
(Prior to the massacre of the Kurta Clan)
He would come and see you in your leisure time and encourage you to read in the neighborhood library with him. You would undoubtedly concur that it is Kurapika after all. You two would sit side by side on the couch in the serene library, and before starting a new book, he would offer that you execute an exchange. For instance, he may recommend a book to you and vice versa.
The majority of the novels he read are far more serious than you may think. He always recommends history or biographies of philosophers who lived a century ago, as well as crime, mystery, and science fiction, works. Despite how much you like it, you feel a little ashamed about the works you're recommending to him since they seem so plain to him. [Unless you have the same taste w/ him]
Most of your hangouts are just solitude and calm, but you like that tranquility. Along with Pairo, the three of you are going to stay in the forest as you three would for an adventurous hangout. You would capture fish or other creatures that are suitable for human consumption.
(After the massacre of the Kurta Clan)
You feel much closer to your childhood friend now that you've seen him again. He lost his positive outlook since, as you are aware, criminals killed the members of his clan. If you were in his position, you wouldn't have any optimism at all. Therefore, you are always at his side to lessen his sense of isolation and provide him with emotional support. A conversation with him may be quite intense and passionate. He would often speak to you late at night about his unsaid emotions, his grief, his trauma, his enmity, and the survivor's guilt.
He's still a huge book nerd, so you two would borrow books from the local library and read them together while relaxing in the calm setting. You are just brought back to the past by it.
CHROLLO LUCILFER
(When you were still living in Meteor City)
Chrollo introduced you to Father Lisores, the owner of the church that you saw. (First chapter) And now, you're affiliated with him because you look like you're on the verge of death and he pities you. In exchange for your assistance with his charitable endeavors and your assistance each time there is a mass for children and other Meteor City residents, he provides you with a place to live, food, and other requirements.
Furthermore, you got to know some of Chrollo's friends. They all treated you well, but Chrollo is the one you get along with the best. Despite the difficulties of his life, he is bursting with positive energy. He frequently stops by the church and enjoys bringing you unusual items.
Most of your time together would be spent in the church's rear chamber, where he would show you other items and instruct you in speaking Gelman. (In the universe of Hunter x Hunter, probably English). His discoveries and his astute thinking never fail to captivate you. He frequently blushes when you praise him, but in all honesty, he kind of craves it since he wants to impress you.
Chrollo requested you, Sarasa, and Pakunoda to voice dub a Mighty Sweepin' Power Cleaners VHS tape into your mother tongue so that the kids in Meteor City could watch and understand the episode. It gave you an immense thrill to voice-dub the role that was given to you, and it warmed your heart to see the children moved and enthralled.
(Phantom Troupe / After the slaughter of Kurta Clan)
After Sarasa's death, Phantom Troupe was established with the intention of exacting retribution. You presently hold the fourth rank and are a member of the Phantom Troupe, a group of malevolent thieves. You two don't spend much time together since Chrollo is so busy keeping up his leadership role, looking for items that can be of great use to the group, or if he wants to steal a particular item. In fact, it only happens once in a blue moon.
But you can't blame him after all. Though when all of you are gathered up for a meeting, he would give you pieces of jewelry, books, and others that you love, which you presumably think that he stole, it feels nice that he's thinking about you.
While waiting for the remainder of the members to arrive, you would speak with them about significant topics and share what you had learned from your mission. His responses to you are brief since he is still engaged with the book he is reading. You feel sort of sad about it but chose to not complain.
FEITAN PORTOR
While the troupe was in York New, he would pay you many visits at the gaming shop where you work, and would practically gaze at you as if you were a ghost or something - well, he's waiting for you to end your shift. You can't concentrate on your work due to his scary glances, and he physically stares at everyone that walks into the shop.
You would advise him to cease doing that after your shift, but he would act unaware even though he understood what you meant. You two would saunter through the Saloma Mall, only glancing at the merchandise in the storefront windows, not bothering to go inside because you're saving up your money.
But there was a time when you spotted a bracelet that piqued your curiosity, but it was so pricey that your wage wasn't sufficient to pay for it. Feitan was aware of this but remained silent. After dropping you off at your flat, he goes to the shop where you spotted the bracelet you like and snatches it violently.
He handed you the bracelet the next day. Unaware that he had stolen it, you were perplexed by how he was able to purchase it. When you questioned about how he was able to afford it, he just said that they were confidential.
Feitan isn't a particularly chatty person, and neither are you, but whenever he comes to see you while you're at work, you strike up a conversation with him, and honestly, talking to him is much more comfortable than talking to other people because he's direct and doesn't sugarcoat his words, which is what you like best.
He just listens to your rambling while paying attention to what you're saying, but he obviously won't be overt about it. The two of you would play video games in your flat after your shift. Because he has a strong sense of competition, he usually defeats you. He constantly invited Phinks and Shalnark as well.
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bsd-elle · 1 year
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Thoughts on Buddy Daddies Episode 9
I have so many thoughts about this episode and it all stems from P.A works' fantastic SUBTLE writing choices.
This episode, on paper, sounds like a pretty cliche sports day episode, but they somehow managed to show us the character progression and the relationship progression between the characters.
The biggest progress we can blatantly see is Rei taking an effort to help Kazuki more.
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And we can see that Kazuki reacts accordingly.
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Kazuki is surprised by this development, and voices his concern.
Rei was genuinely impacted by the events in episode 7, realizing that he was pretty 'useless' when it came to raising Miri, and has taken the initiative to give a helping hand.
And what I love about that is, we know that Rei had absolutely no clue how to work a microwave or any basic cooking, so for him to automatically suggest and start making onigiri shows that either he had previously asked Kazuki how to make simple items, or two, he was more observant when Kazuki was cooking, because he wanted to be able to do more, do anything to make his little girl smile.
And it's so wonderful to see them actually bring up this plot point and continue it, rather than letting it be a one-off plot point.
They pick up on his interest to be more involved and we see him actually trying.
Knowing the unfortunate circumstances of his childhood, it's not that Rei doesn't want to help out or get into Miri's activities, but rather that he simply doesn't KNOW what to do. Doesn't know what's right.
His hesitance throughout the Episode is evidence of that, his hesitance to give Miri his riceballs.
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He genuinely looks so sad, feeling like he can't compete with Kazuki's sheer talent with cooking.
His hesitance to even cheer for Miri.
Growing up in a family full of espionage and assassination, quietness and taking up little to no space must've been embedded into his system, into his psyche, and the fact that he's actively trying to be loud, to draw attention to himself, just shows the effort he's putting into taking care and raising Miri, something his father never attempted to try.
And both Kazuki and Miri appreciate his efforts.
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They understand that he's trying and are so enthusiastic and receptive to his attempts.
Which is why he takes it to heart that Miri fell down because he was 'loud'.
I think, in that moment, he thought that he failed, that failure is never acceptable.
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But, that final reassurance from Miri (in the cutest way possible), that he didn't fail, he didn't do anything wrong, and Miri considers them all to be a family, something he never had, something he's never known, that's all he needed to realize that, yes, maybe he'll fail, but at the end of the day, Miri is happy, and there's nothing else that matters.
The other one I wanted to talk about, which is definitely more subtle, but the progression of Kazuki and Rei's relationship is truly so beautiful.
Kazuki treasures the help Rei attempts and supports him in every way possible.
When Rei said that he wanted to make riceballs and was worried if Miri would like it, Kazuki instantly reassures him that Miri would love it.
In fact, he proudly proclaims to Miri that Rei would be making onigiri. And I'm sure that if he hadn't, there might be a chance that Miri wouldn't have been able to eat it, while Rei was clouded by his doubt.
When Miri says that she likes the onigiri and she thanks Rei, Kazuki immediately tells him, "hey, you did good, look our daughter agrees too. You're doing good and trying, and we both see that".
When Rei is drowning in his self-loathing about potentially causing Miri to lose the gold medal, Kazuki tries to reassure him and tell him that he didn't do anything wrong.
Finally, when they're walking back, Kazuki tells him that he's proud of him, that he worked hard, and you can tell that Rei really appreciated that, to know that his efforts were being accepted.
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And that's why their relationship grows in such an organic manner, Rei puts in the effort, tries his best to help out to the best of his abilities, and Kazuki reassures him, let's him know about things that he would have no idea about, and vocally supports him.
And Miri, my sweet angel, with her bright personality and even brighter smile, constantly comforts both Kazuki and Rei, that she's happy, that they ARE a family.
The reason they are a family is because each one of them helps each other, is an equal part in the group.
And at the end of the day, they're just all trying their best, taking one step at a time, while the others, cheer them on.
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(And this picture is the perfect symbolism of that sentiment, Rei awkwardly trying his best to smile, and Kazuki physically trying to bring him closer into the picture).
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lazyflower48 · 7 months
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Theory: Dazai's past
I was skimming through Fifteen, and I'm quite surprised that I don't see this part being brought up as often when talking about Dazai's past.
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Dazai was invited to join the Sheep. What exactly does this mean? Did he spend a part of life living out on the streets or in Suribachi City?
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It is stated here how Dazai isn't an orphan, nor was he related to the Mafia. He isn't an illegitimate child either. So this clears up a few things and provides a little hint about his past.
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One thing we've seen about Dazai is that even as a young teen, he used to dress quite formally i.e. wearing a suit most of the time. (It's interesting how he used to dress formally even when he wasn't officially a member of the PM- like when he was present for the previous boss' assassination or when he was talking to Mori at the beginning of Fifteen)
This kind of plays into my theory about him being from a wealthy or a powerful family. While reading No Longer Human, it became very obvious to me how Dazai's personality is somewhat based on Yozo's. Yozo was from a relatively affluent family and had several siblings while being the youngest one of them all. I wouldn't be too surprised if Asagiri decides to write a similar past for Dazai.
If that's the case, then I also believe that Dazai may have ran away from his home. (Maybe due to facing similar circumstances as Yozo- like being neglected, abuse, etc). After running away, he ended up in Suribachi City and that is how he got invited to join the Sheep to which he declined. Eventually, he tried to commit suicide which resulted in him getting recruited into the PM by Mori, who had saved him from his suicide attempt.
One thing that stuck out to me while reading Stormbringer was how he used to live in a shipping container.
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"It was a land completely forgotten by everybody"
"not even marked on a map"
These lines, in particular, caught my attention. There could be several reasons as to why he chose to live in a place like that, but for the sake of the theory- it makes me think that perhaps he was hiding from someone. At this point, he was still a child, so could it be that he was hiding from his own family? It ties back into the theory of how he may have ran away, and this is how he hid from his family.
So... That was my incoherent little theory about Dazai's past that I came up with at 2 am.
I would really like to know about his past because despite having the most material to work with, he still remains one of the most mysterious characters in BSD. Hopefully, Asagiri writes about it one day. (Please let it be soon)
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s3thwrit3sstuff · 8 months
Text
❝Oh, oh-oh❞
Konig x male!reader | nsfw, smut | sub. bttm. reader (AMAB) | wc: 3,747
warnings: public sex, crossdressing, feminization, anal fingering, blowjob, slight sexual humiliation towards reader, light degradation, dacryphilia
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in an attempt to win an argument with your boyfriend, you hit a few low blows but he bests you by bringing up how pathetic you were from a few nights ago.
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"God, it is freezing out there" A large hand brings you closer to Konig's side. He rubs your arm though the pressure is barely felt through the thick coat you wore but the gesture is sweet. "I thought the Earth was supposed to get warmer, you know I'm starting to believe that that's just a scam" Konig chuckles. "You are just not built for this weather, babe" He teases as he slings a heavy arm around your shoulder to reach towards your covered face. "Well, I'm sorry I'm not built to survive inhuman levels of temperature, I'm sorry only one of us can be an operator for a private military contractor — Mpfh!" The same gloved hand that offered you comfort mere seconds ago was now planted over your face, tugging your knitted cap down and over your eyes in the process. "Schatz", he warns. [Darling.] His tone is still light despite it. The streets were more or less bare due to the weather but the shops were still aglow with lights. Those poor, poor, retail workers. The only thing staving off feeling completely guilty for stepping into one of the shops and making the already miserable worker have to work in horrid weather was the fact that due to Konig's work relocating the both of you here, your wardrobes were in desperate need of attention. "Hey," He greets them with a nod, his eyes squishing in a façade of a grin. His face was hidden with a mask which he finds a lot of comfort in not only for the fact that he worries someone from work finds out about his face and finds him (or worse, you) but it was less straining to mask his expressions in a conversation.
You rip his hand away from your face with a huff, walking ahead of your boyfriend as a way to show your obvious displeasure. Konig just chuckles and follows along, grabbing a basket. The shop wasn't that big but the brand was a household favourite.
It was a little pricy but Konig had more money than he knew what to do with at times, he can indulge. Plus, the quality and longevity of the clothes were worth it — it was all ethically made as well! A win in both of your books. "Schatz, you can't be mad that I remind you not to speak of my work aloud" his accented voice chides as you look for the basics of a wardrobe. T-shirts in neutral colours, jeans, underwear, and a new winter jacket since yours was doing shit at keeping you warm. "Yeah, yeah, because secret service assassins are constantly listening to you" An arched brow is thrown your way as your larger-than-life boyfriend shadows you. A sigh escapes you and with a dramatic wave of your arm, you place the back of your hand on your forehead and bemoan; "You're so important, schnucki". [sweetie-pie] "A real James Bond, I'm so lucky to be with you". Konig bursts into laughter. The pop song playing on the speakers do little to cover how gleeful the sound was. You stubbornly look ahead, finding immense interest in the different shades of green the t-shirt was made in. He all but towers behind you as he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pressing his covered nose to the top of your head as his chest rumbled with amusement. "You're extremely silly, hübscher". [handsome] "Compared to you? Everyone is, obviously" his eyes gleam and his arm squeezes you closer. It makes you halt your movement. That familiar pressure against you, the aura of heaviness suddenly draping over you. Konig can't help but think of how truly lucky you are. How many soldiers, mercenaries, and lowly scum had he crushed with his bare hands just like this? Too many to even count. He preferred keeping his thoughts of work and you on very different sides of the fences but whenever you throw a silly fit he can't help but coo inwardly at it. The blood he's knee-deep in, the strength in his sinewy muscles, and the rank he's earned by his sheer brutality and determination all purr in delight at your stubbornness. At your brattiness. You feel something poking at your back. A feat only Konig's cock could manage despite the thick coat you're wearing. Well, this wasn't a complete shock. After his return, the two of you would spend hours annoying your neighbours, however, your upheaval from your last house was made in haste.
Konig managed to squeeze in some frottaging in the shower last night but jetlag won over. Perhaps that's why it took so little to rile Konig up. He sways and you do too. Konig eyes his peripherals, noting the workers were pretending to look busy reorganizing some jewellery on a gondola so he leans down to whisper in your ear.
"Let's look in a different section," he knows you're about to retort so he grabs your chin and tilts your head backwards that way he can leer down at you.
"Command, not suggestion". He enjoys the way your eyes scan his. The flicker of emotions, the way you wet your lips and a hint of your teeth brushing over your lower lips. He knows the blood pooling around your cheeks isn't just from the cold. Your eyes flutter close then open and he grins behind his mask as he releases your chin/neck.
Konig guides you towards the women's section with a steady gait. A worker gives an apprehensive glance but admittingly got far too embarrassed to stare once you stopped in front of the more...sexy bedroom set display.
Silk lingerie didn't last long in your bedroom sessions with Konig. He's gentle when he wants to be — those lazy morning sex with his tongue working you open and his hands stroking your dick to completion until you're limp and boneless was bliss — but his fetish for dressing you up in delicate lingerie sets always ends with your legs and hips needing a few days to recuperate. His size was another reason why sex with Konig was utterly satisfying and sore inducing but it's not like you dislike it (quite the opposite). "Which one, hm?" This time his arms are circling your waist. It was a shame that he was so covered up because the sight of his veins across the back of his scarred, calloused, hands always made you shiver. God, you can practically see the way his biceps are flexing as he continues to sway again. The silk clothes are all much too raunchy. Suddenly, it's too warm under your layers but that's not the exact reason you're squirming.
Most of them are cute. Feminine-cut clothes that would hang too low on your hips with thin straps that would slip down one shoulder. The ones that weren't cute were the classic lingerie dresses. Their length is so short you knew it would tickle the back of your thighs and hide nothing once bent over. The way it was tailored to hug just under the breasts was meant to give it definition but seeing as you were lacking in that department you'd think Konig wouldn't be a big fan? Wrong. He's as horny as an animal in heat when it came to you but he did have a thing for the way your "tits" couldn't fill out the certain clothes he got you. Maybe he just has a "thing" for you in general. He was insatiable. Konig stops swaying. You snap back into the present and furrow your brows. "Schatz", he purrs. "Yeah, yeah, I'm..." The black silk set catches your eye and you reach for it to feel the lace that lines the bottom hem. Pleased by your choice, Konig reaches for the hanger to pluck it from your hands and into the basket it goes. "Changing room...Mein König?" [My King?] His mask hides his sharp grin but his eyes darken from that warm coffee-coloured eyes to pools of sin.
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The changing room was foreign. New country, new city, new surroundings. A sense of relief washed over you as you noted the wooden doors, glad they weren't just curtains held together by some loose velcro straps or hooked onto the opposite wall. The changing room hallway was dimmer than usual but once Konig had opened the doors to the room, it was clear why. He let out a low whistle at the sight of the floor-to-ceiling mirrors backlit by LED strips. The dimension of the space was large enough to not feel too claustrophobic — those mirrors seemed to increase the space as well. You shed your jacket, spotting a stool in one corner of the room meant to be a place to put your clothes, bags, or perhaps someone's horny partner to sit on as they look at you expectantly. The sight of Konig sitting on the tiny seat was comical, you pursed your lips to stop laughing but it couldn't be helped. Konig took off his cap and mask, effortlessly reaching towards the hooks on the wall to hang them before he leans back and tilts his head at you. His long, toned, legs stretched out before him. It invades your space. Overwhelming the room with more of him until the giggles fade away. Unwilling to accept his silence, you prod further. "What? You look cute, okay. All awkward in the corner, is this how you were in high school? All limbs like a spider, bet you were an eye-catcher, baby" He doesn't seem phased by your teasing. With his mask off, you can now ogle his face. That scar on the bridge of his aquiline nose, those strong jaws and sunken eye-sockets that give his eyelid a more hooded look. His top lip is thinner than his bottom, with a prominent cupid bow. Feeling emboldened you shed your knitted cap then your jacket and let it drop to the floor. The scarf twirls around your wrist as you walk forward and bend over to level your eye line with Konig. His downward-facing lashes almost always tickle his cheek — well, when they haven't been burnt off from his close proximity to explosives and fire. Thankfully, they're intact this time and you brush your thumb across his cheek, admiring their length. "You're the cutest little boy, you know?" his eye twitches. Still, he does nothing. Konig simply keeps his eyes on your face. You lean in, breath ghosting along his lips while you grin. "Come on, nothing to say, Mein König? Usually, you're the one that's so fucking loud, whimpering, growling, grunting —" Konig jerks forward. You hold your ground. His silence was both nerve-wracking and gratifying. "Ausziehen. Na." [Strip. Now.] He knows you know what he's saying. There's recognition in those perfectly shaped eyes. Leaning back, he adjusts his broad shoulders and eyes those shapely legs impatiently. "Ich werde nicht zweimal fragen." [I will not ask twice.]
He likes this changing room. Not only could he see the expressions on your face as you strip, but he could also see the view from behind thanks to the mirrors. The lights cast you in an almost angelic glow, a rim lighting that makes your skin all but glimmer. You're bent over, pulling your pants down, when the sounds of your moans fill the room. You nearly split your skull open in your haste to grab the phone from Konig's hand. He lifts his leg and his boot pushes onto your stomach, knocking you back and making you stumble onto the floor. You're almost naked, completely defenceless. Konig does not stand. He simply sits and knocks the toe of his boot to your thigh and jerks his chin to the basket close to you. Meanwhile, your moans are still playing. The wet noises of skin slapping against skin, the mattress creaking and the headboard slamming on the wall. "Konig! That's way — That is way too loud!" He splits open your thighs with the same boot and you squeak as he applies pressure to your crotch. The icy coolness from the outside has you shivering as you clamp your thighs around his ankles but he simply presses. Your high-pitched moan elicits a chuckle from Konig. That motherfucker mimics your moan, his stoic face turning annoyingly expressive as he mocked yours. His giddiness is hard to contain. He turns the screen to you and keeps on echoing the noises you're making. "Oh, oh-oh! Oh fuck! Konig! Right there!"
"Point taken!" You plead, blindly reaching behind you to grab the silk dress. You hear the shuffle of feet in the changing room hallway, hushed whispers but Konig does not pause the video. He simply lets it play as you hurriedly slip on the outfit. What a sight you were.
On the floor, pathetically slipping on a raunchy outfit while your crotch was still being stepped on. The straps are falling off your shoulders and your flustered state does little to assist. Your hair is askew and your cheeks are warmer than the fucking sun. The video stops just as you reach your orgasm and Konig removes his boot. "Strip. Fully."
He tosses the phone on the floor and leans forward. His elbows are on his knees and he gazes down upon you like a hungry wolf. After an awkward shimmy, the only thing protecting you from the wooden floors of the changing room was the thin silk. Your cock was tenting the front and no amount of tugging the material down was going to help you. "I think I may have been gone for too long, yes? My slut is much too disobedient as of late and getting more and more perverse. You're so hard after letting everyone in the store hear how pathetic you are when you take my cock, have you no shame?" Konig clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth when you avert your gaze. When you meet eyes, he's unbuckling his belt with one hand. "Do you even deserve to see my cock?"
You shake your head. No, no, of course, you don't! You're just a whore, a perverted boy who belongs to be on the floor. Even the lingerie you wore was too modest for you. Konig could tell you were edging towards that cloudy state. His cheek twitches as he suppresses a knowing grin. "That's right. You don't. But I'm allowing you to" "Th-Thank you, Mein Konig" He spreads his legs and pats his inner thigh after he had unzipped and pulled his heavy cock out. You gulp at the sight of it. It was damn near monstrous — a cock a few people could only ever see in pornography. Crawling on all fours, you nuzzle his thigh as thanks before grabbing it by the base. God, it was so hefty. A delicious pink tip and a few delicate splatters of moles decorated Konig's cock. The mouthwatering veins were given kisses and yet Konig remains silent as he watches with rapt interest in how you worshipped his big dick. "Perk your ass out. More" You're confused as to what he intends to do. Perhaps he wanted to see your asshole winking back at him in the mirror while you suck him off? That seems likely. You spread your knees and arch your back as you suck on his tip, loosening your jaw and covering your teeth as you close your eyes. Konig removes his glove. It doesn't take long for you to start drooling. He swipes two fingers under his dick, around the ring of your mouth, then leans forward to slip them in. Your choked reply is ignored by Konig. It's hard to breathe. You can feel his fingers scissor your muscles open all while he envelops you in his scent, his warmth, his everything. You feel like he's consuming your every being. His cock is halfway in, your jaw is aching and anyone unlucky enough to walk into the changing area would most definitely hear you gagging on it. Your eyes are watering, huffing through your nose as you feel your hips jerk without any conscious thought behind it. He's fucking you open on his fingers and he knows where to aim to make you all but spineless. There's this distinct dick-shaped bump in your throat. Konig is silent. When he pulls out his fingers and cock you cough, cushioning your face on his thigh as you catch your breath. One of the straps is falling off your shoulder and the dress hangs off your chest in a whorish display thanks to your flat chest. Konig's breathing is faster than usual but he is wordless as he grabs your wet chin.
"Kuh...Konig — Ngh!" You're looking at your reflection. Legs as wobbly as a newborn fawn as he holds you up. The dress is bunched over the curve of your ass. You're jerked forward until you slam into the mirror. A pained whimper is replied with a harsh slap to the back of your thighs. He uses his boots again. This time to kick your ankles apart. The fingers on your chin force you to look forward as Konig's heavy cock is placed on your back.
His face places itself on the crook of your shoulder. Those dark eyes swallow the lights from the mirror as he takes pleasure from your melted expression. You still taste his precum on your tongue, jaws still slack and lungs still desperately trying to swallow air. His thumb on your hole can feel the way you clench around nothing and Konig finally breaks his silence. "You are so filthy" You don't deny him of this fact. His cock pushes on the tight ring of muscles and you moan, fogging up the glass as he pushes, pushes, and pushes until he's inside and oh fuck. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. He fills you up so well. Every inch violated, comforted, by him. The pressure is so overwhelming but so familiar and you're getting on the tip of your toes to perk your ass out more. He watches the way your ass swallows inch after meaty inch. "Mein Süßer" [My sweet one] Konig groans into your ear. He's gripping onto your waist so tightly you know bruises will bloom and that thought alone makes you press your cheek on the mirror so you can look at him from over your shoulder. "Mein Konig, please...please, please, please" He's been far too mean and you're begging so sweetly. Konig thrusts in and out of you so harshly that your breath is being knocked out of you. He's kissing you, you're barely there to reciprocate. It's messy, it's hot, it's too much. His hand thumps onto the mirror and the lights flicker but neither of you cares. He's fucking into you so good you can't think. Konig is mouthing your neck, one hand on your waist while the other is groping everywhere, anywhere — as long as it was you. That's all that mattered to Konig. You're being far too loud. Both of you. There's no way no one knows what you're getting up to. Your breaths are fogging up the mirror and there's a ripping sound as Konig tugs on the strap too harshly. "Buh-Baby!" he shushes you. "I'll pay, fuck, I'll pay for anything you want, this boypussy is worth it. So fucking good, so tight " he snaps his hips into you and you choke out a cry at his name. "Fühlt sich gut an, nicht wahr?" [Feels good, doesn't it?] Your chest is now in full view and so Konig grabs at it, twisting your nipples harshly. You're sobbing, tossing your head back as plead for him to slow down. Tears are now streaming down your face, lashes clumping together as you groan out, hand prints being left on the smooth surface as you desperately attempt to grasp at anything to ground yourself. "So sehe ich Dich gerne". [I like seeing you this way.]
Konig grins wickedly. He knows you're close, he can feel it in the way you're tightening up around his cock. He's not that far behind and he was determined for the two of you to cum at the same time. Thankfully, Konig knows just what to do to push you over the edge. Not that it would take much. All that foreplay, that humiliation, already made you a stroke away from jizzing on the floor. His sharp canines sink into the juncture of your shoulder and neck and you yelp as you paint the floor and mirror with your cum. "Ah, fuck!" you tightened around him like a vice and Konig stills as he empties his balls into you. His thighs twitch and his hips jerk a few times as he pants to catch his breath. "Woah!" Konig holds you up, laughing breathlessly as he hugs you. Your head is lolling to the side so he gently leans your head back, stroking your neck and chest until you're able to sharpen your eyes back into focus. "Are you alright, Schatz?" he's flattening his palm on your chest to feel the way your heart thuds against your ribcage. You nod, gulping and panting as you try to form sentences. He's patient as he carefully maneuverers you to lean fully against him. "Fuck, why'd you have to cum in my ass" Konig snorts as he lets you peel away to brace yourself on the mirror. He would say sorry but he's not. The sight of his cum dripping out of your hole has his cock twitching all over again. While you're catching your breath he reaches for his phone. The sound of his camera going off makes you roll your eyes. He's always taking pictures or videos. Says it keeps him occupied when he misses you a bit too much while he's deployed. Who are you to deny your boyfriend his needs? Wordlessly, you jut your hips back and spread your ass for him. He thanks you. It was silent as you both clean up (as much as you could) and when everyone was dressed you try not to limp on your way out. The workers all avoid looking in your direction and you groan as you hide your face in Konig's side. He simply tosses an arm around your shoulder, feeling smug despite the bashful blush under his facemask. "We can never shop here again" you mutter "There are more shops" Konig comforts.
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flowerandblood · 4 months
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The Man with the Deep Scar
[ Amor • Aemond x Psyche • female ]
[ warnings: mention and description of the murder of multiple people, descriptions of wounds, virgnity loss, smut, angst, violence, suicide attempt, trauma, mourning ]
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[ description: After she is attacked in a fair by a strange man and narrowly avoids death, her father the king decides that from now on she will be watched over by one of his ‘ghosts’, a assassin acting on his orders, wearing a black mask. The man follows her like a shadow, accompanied by their past, which keeps her awake at night. Gothic horror love story, angst, sexual tension, very dark Aemond. ]
This story is several requests combined into one: sworn protector x female; Amor x Psyche; Phantom of the Opera! Aemond x female. I took the liberty of creating a completely new story from this, having only elements of each of these requests.
Series & Characters Moodboard Lady Walford Moodboard Gothic & Horror Sensual Moodboard
Part 1 - The Man with the Black Mask | Part 2 - The Man with the Empty Heart | Part 3 - The Man with the Lost Soul | Part 4 - The Man with the Cold Mouth | Part 6 - The Man with the One Eye | Part 7 - The Man with the Golden Gift | Part 8 - The Man in the Black Crown | Part 9 - The Man with the Bloody Sword | Part 10 - The Man in the Black Gloves | Part 11 - The Man in the Death Cloak | Part 12 - The Man with the Pearly Hair | Part 13 - The Man with the Fiery Gaze
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
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For as long as he could remember, their father had taken no interest in them, preferring his first-born daughter to his second wife's children. He hated her with all his heart, jealous that although he read extensively and was so skilled in hand-to-hand combat, the king only focused his attention on her.
He lived in a constant conviction of defeat, his grandfather inciting his mother against his father by saying that if it went on like this it would be Rheanyra who would be chosen by him as heir to the throne, not Aegon, her first-born son.
The tension inside the fortress and their internal strife meant that they failed to see the threat that lurked outside. Discontent among their people was growing due to poor crops and famine, although the king showed concern about the whole situation, his grandfather, Otto reassured him that he had everything under control.
He only recognised how serious the situation was when it became apparent that an army was gathering near the city walls, the lords on whom gigantic taxes had been imposed demanded that the king abdicate and a new ruler be chosen from among the nobles.
House Targaryen had ruled the kingdom for centuries and his father had no intention of giving up the crown to anyone just because they willed it, and he called all the lords rising against him traitors, demanding their heads.
However, when it became apparent that the most powerful of the lords, his father's former ally and friend, Lord Walford had risen against them at the head of a rebellion, taking their stronghold by storm, all was lost.
Hearing the sounds of battle and screams he ran to his mother's chamber wanting to make sure she was safe. She was packing up in a hurry and when she saw him she grabbed him by his arms and shook him.
"There is a passage under my bed to an underground shelter. You must press with your little finger the mechanism which is hidden in a small hole under the wooden panels, you and Daeron are to hide there, go get him at once." She ordered in a trembling voice, sweat droplets on her face.
He wanted to defy her, horrified by her condition, feeling that even though he was only twelve years old he was already a man, that he would not hide like a coward but would fight to defend her.
However, he decided that it was indeed necessary to hide Daeron somewhere and was already about to leave her chamber when Lord Walfrod's soldiers suddenly rushed in, their armour and swords all filthy with blood.
He only had time to scream when the blade of one of them swung and drove into his face, he fell to the floor with a loud whine, catching himself on his cheek, completely losing sight of his left eye.
He began to waddle across the floor in front of him towards the bed, he heard his mother screaming but didn't turn to look at her, terrified, thinking only of the fact that he didn't want to die, that he was scared, that he wanted to hide, his heart pounding like mad.
He managed with a shaking hand to find the hole she was speaking about, when he slipped his little finger into it something clicked and the flap lifted, he crawled quickly down and closed it behind him, breathing loudly, panting all over, the voices above him muffled and indistinct.
The corridor he was in was very cramped, consisting only of a steep staircase leading down and walls all around him, with one hand he clutched at the painfully burning wound, feeling the warm blood run down his fingers, and with his other hand he began to slide down into complete darkness. He finally reached a sort of enclosed, stone-cold room.
He fell to his knees and wept loudly, his nose all stuffed up from tears, he felt sticky from his own wetness and blood, he was terrified, but most of all he could not forgive himself for running away like a coward, for leaving his beloved mother to die, Daeron and everyone else, for hiding instead of dying with them with honour.
He lay down on the stone floor and stayed like that, listening to the sounds of battle and screams, until there was complete, empty silence. The pain he felt on his left cheek was unbearable and he thought that although he had avoided a quick death, he would die here slowly, forgotten and abandoned.
He decided that he would rather bleed out or die of thirst and hunger than go out and give himself up to these traitors.
Staying in that dark, cold pit, he lost track of time, he didn't know if days or hours had passed, all he could think about was that the ache in his skull was unbearable, his wound oozed and smelled bad, his stomach twisted with pain, his lips dried with thirst.
He felt that he had fallen asleep only to wake up and cry loudly, wishing for nothing more than to find that his mother had survived, to return with his father and brother at the head of a great army and come to his aid.
He imagined that the wooden flap opened and his queen-mother appeared in it like an angel in a pillar of blinding light, that he threw himself into her arms with relief, hearing her tender reassurances that all was well now.
He shuddered when he heard the screech of wood and the sound of a trapdoor opening, the pillar of light coming from the side of the room almost blinding him and he had to take a few steps backwards, pushing against the wall, his heart pounding like mad.
"Is someone there? I can hear you crying. Let me help you, please, speak up." He heard a soft, feminine whisper echoing through the room, felt a tightness in his throat recognising instantly that it wasn't his mother's voice.
What if it was a trick?
If there were guards with her, if they were about to come down and kill him?
"I will spend tonight with the king in his chamber, I will order my guards to rest and not watch over my rooms. I will leave the flap open for you to leave, on my bed you will find a hooded cloak, a sack of food and coins. Leave the keep through the kitchen rooms in the cellars, my servant will be waiting for you and lead you out, she will hand you over to your mother's friend, Ser Criston."
She said quickly and closed the trapdoor with a quiet creak of wood, the room again surrounded by complete darkness. He breathed loudly, hearing only the rapid beating of his own heart.
Should he believe her or not?
What if she was lying?
What if they were going to torture him?
He clamped his eyelids shut, feeling a terrible pain in his skull and decided that he couldn't take it any longer, that he wanted it all to be over.
He walked back and forth across the dark room, feeling a sudden rush of energy and adrenaline, the blood bubbling strongly in his veins. He jumped back when he heard the creak of wood, followed by someone's footsteps and the sound of a door closing.
There was complete silence.
He swallowed loudly; over these few days his eyesight had completely adapted to the darkness, so he confidently found the steps of the stairs with his hands and slowly began to climb up. He slid out from under the bed and listened for any sounds, however, there seemed to be no one in the room.
He crawled out from under the bed and stood up on trembling legs, looking around quickly but saw no one, on the bedding in fact lay a small cloak, a pouch of coins and a little bag of apples and bread. He took it all, quickly putting the cloak on, pulling the hood over his head and left the chamber, looking around in a panic, his wound hurt more than usual, all swollen and throbbing.
He knew the map of the fortress by heart and indeed had not encountered any guards on his way, so he ran towards the kitchen rooms and stopped, frightened, when he came across a woman. She looked at him horrified and almost screamed seeing his face, turning her head quickly, disgust and disbelief in her gaze, he stood and shook in front of her wondering if she was going to start shouting.
"− gods, so it's true − poor child − come, we don't have much time −" She whispered looking around and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the servants' passage, they walked through the cramped, dark corridors, he could hear rats running past them, his heart pounding like mad.
After a while they reached a small wooden door, apparently intended for deliveries from merchants, the woman opened it and waved to a man dressed in a cloak, a hood over his head, he was standing next to a large cart harnessed to two horses, covered with a large sheet.
"− I got him − quickly −" She whispered to him, the man stepped forward to meet her, a sigh of disbelief escaping his lips when he recognised in him Ser Criston Cole, her mother's sworn protector.
"− thanks be to the gods − your merits will not be forgotten, woman − come, my prince, we have no time −" He said impatiently, and he moved swiftly after him, jumping on the cart, Criston covered him with a sheet and after a moment he felt a tug, they moved off and he drew a loud breath, laying down on the wood beneath his feet.
He had escaped.
This woman had really helped him.
When his emotions wore off he immediately devoured the piece of bread and apple that the woman had bagged for him, feeling immensely relieved, no longer even thinking about the pain, just that he had survived.
He hoped Criston would take him back to his family, to those who had survived the massacre, that he would see his mother again soon.
As they stopped he heard Criston's voice speaking to someone, and then the sheet lifted, Cole and a man who looked like a monk stared at him in disbelief.
"− good gods −" Muttered a plump priest in a grey habit girded with a simple rope. "− what have they done to him? −"
First they bathed him and changed him into new robes, and then they took him to the medic despite his pleas that he wanted to see his mother and siblings first. Cole stood over him as they waited for the monk to attend to his wound, his face pale.
"− I'm so sorry, my prince −" He said low, his voice trembling slightly, but he didn't need to say anything more. He felt a tightness in his throat, a burning wetness gathered under the eyelid of his healthy eye, he wept like a child even though he wanted to act like a man.
He thought that he had only survived because he was a coward.
When the medic arrived and saw the state he was in, he prayed first and said that it was a miracle that the infection had not killed him, that the wound needed to be decontaminated immediately and the eye had to be taken out.
A stick was placed in his mouth on which he was told to bite his teeth, having previously been given a huge amount of poppy milk and spirit to ease the pain, however, what he felt when his blade penetrated his skin and began to burn and cut away the dead, rotting tissue seemed like pure hell to him.
He fainted after a few minutes of writhing like an animal and muffled screaming, Criston was unable to look at it and walked out. He was left alone and thought that this was his punishment that was waiting for him from now on, punishment for his cowardice, punishment for not being able to behave like a man.
Darkness and loneliness.
He would not allow anyone to light the candles in his cell, which had previously belonged to some other monk, feeling wonderfully invisible there.
When he covered the small window at night with a thick black cloth he was once again in complete darkness, just as he had been when he had spent those few days that seemed to last indefinitely under his mother's chamber.
Criston had told him that his mother had died after several swords had repeatedly pierced her body, his father old and infirm to the point that he, like Aegon, Helaena and Daeron, had had their throats cut in their beds.
The whole attack had been premeditated, Lord Walford had pretended to be a friend of his father-king to the end, and now, from what he understood, he had been chosen from among these fucking traitors to be king and take his place on the throne.
Cole assured him that there were still individuals in the realm and lords who remained loyal to him, who wanted justice and the return of House Targaryen to the throne, who would support him if he wished to regain the crown.
He practised hand-to-hand combat with him every day in the great vaults of the men's monastery. Even though the new king's soldiers repeatedly searched the entire building, thinking rightly that they might have been hiding the prince out of sheer compassion, each time the monks warned them off and gave them time to find another refuge quickly.
He lived only for the thought of doing to the family of the new king what he had done to him.
He knew that he had time, that he could not rush, that this matter had to be carefully considered.
They met in secret in one of the strongholds of his father's former vassal, Lord Malet, who received him with great honours, gathering all his supporters there.
They discussed what to do, having an army smaller and less well supplied than the royal one, unable to act openly, treating the news that the prince was alive as something that could not come to light.
"I have my man in the king's closest guard; he is one of his ghosts. I pay him fairly for any information, he could bring someone else in there, some spy. We would set up an ambush on one of the already existing ones, similar in size and weight, they wear the same clothes, if his behaviour did not arouse anyone's suspicion, no one would know." He said with conviction, and he licked his lower lip at the thought that popped into his head.
"I'll take his place." He said coolly, looking at the map of the fortress spread out before him on the large table, the lords looked at each other in surprise.
"What do you mean, my prince? It's dangerous, it puts our whole plan in danger!" Exclaimed one of them, clearly horrified by his proposal, he chuckled under his breath, several of the men swallowing loudly, apparently wondering if he was still remaining in his senses.
"I am very familiar with this fortress and its customs, I will be able to keep up with what is going on there. When what we're speaking about becomes a reality, I need to be on the ground, taking charge and the throne right away." Said matter-of-factly, Criston grunted, looking at him uncertainly.
"This plan has some chance of success, but it would be best if you were not in front of the king himself, as he might order you to remove your mask in his presence. We cannot allow that to happen. It would be best if you served his son or daughter." He said looking around at the assembled crowd, the men looked at each other.
"We can arrange to ambush her at the fair. My ghost told me that she often sneaks past her guards without their knowledge. If someone attacks her, the king will reinforce her guard, perhaps appointing one of his ghosts to the task. When we find out whom, my man will kill him, and you, my prince, will take his place."
He recognised that, although it was madness, it had a chance of success, and nothing pleased his heart more than the thought that he would be able to take the life of the man who had destroyed his family with his own hands when the time was right.
To his delight, it turned out that the lord's plan had worked and he had indeed appointed one of his closest guards as her protector. The man was killed later that evening, and he and Criston, under cover of darkness, made their way to the fortress from the side of a forgotten passageway that led out into the woods which had once been used to return from hunting.
One of the ghosts, with the help of a servant who was also involved in their conspiracy, dragged the murdered man out of the castle, and he immediately changed into his clothes.
Although they were a tad too tight, when he put on his mask he felt wonderfully peaceful, the darkness and silence that enveloped him made him feel again as he did when only blackness surrounded him.
Solitude.
The ghost explained the exact rules to him again and informed him where there was a place where he could sleep and rest, although, he said, he didn't think he would ever have the opportunity to use it - they only ate at night and usually slept standing or sitting up.
They parted in one of the passageways, and he moved with a confident stride down the corridor he knew well towards the chamber that had once belonged to his sister, and in which now slept this little whore. He saw the disturbed looks of the guards from afar and smiled at the thought that he would soon kill them all.
They needed to smuggle as many of their men and as many weapons into the fortress as possible.
"You may leave. From now on, the princess is under my protection." He said coldly, one of the men snorted loudly, angry, he could smell the strong odour of alcohol from him.
"You are not a king, by what right do you command us?" He asked resentfully and he chuckled with amusement, he saw that the man looked at him uncertainly, with fear from which he felt pleasure and heat in his chest.
"Shall I inform the king that not only are you incapable of guarding his daughter, but you refuse to obey his orders?"
The man growled something under his breath, speaking of his insolence, walking away with his companion with a loud clang of their armour.
He hummed under his breath as he stepped against the wall facing her door, the door to his sister's chamber, and thought of Helaena, of how gentle and sensitive a person she was, of how she despaired even when one of them accidentally trampled a spider or a slug.
He thought of how she lay alone, terrified, dying slowly, coughing up her own blood, and felt a tightening in his heart, swallowing loudly, his heart pounding hard.
He was comforted when the torches around him burned out and he was left at last in complete darkness, he closed his eyes and decided to rest, work out his plan in his head and wait patiently.
He shuddered and opened his eyelids, startled when he heard the loud creak of a door, a figure appeared in it illuminated only by the soft light of a candle, her large eyes looking at him with uncertainty and terror.
His jaw clenched in rage when he involuntarily thought she was beautiful, though he wished she would turn out to be a disgusting, ugly girl that no one would ever want.
However, he could not say anything about her appearance other than that her face was pleasantly fair, smooth and slender, her nose shapely and slightly rounded, her eyes sparkling, surrounded by a veil of long lashes, her long, slightly wavy hair and eyebrows seemed to him as dark as the night itself.
They stared at each other for a long moment without speaking.
"What's your name?" She asked suddenly, uncertainly, softly, with a kind of innocent curiosity from which he felt like laughing.
He didn't answer.
You are a mere whore, he thought with amusement, who wallows in riches filthy from my sister's blood.
"How am I supposed to address you if I don't know what your name is?" She asked, surprised by his lack of answer, but he just looked at her, wondering how she was going to force him to speak to her at all.
Ghosts could only speak with the king.
"Should I complain to the king about you not answering my questions?" She asked with a note of threat in her voice from which he clenched his teeth, letting the air out loudly through his nose, trying to calm himself, thinking only of the fact that meeting the king was the last thing he wanted.
He couldn't allow himself to order him to take off his mask.
"Call me any name you see fit." He answered her coolly, tired of her refusing to leave him alone. She shook her head as if she didn't understand the meaning of the words he spoke to her.
"Shall I name you?" She muttered in disbelief and he turned his head to the side, rolling his eyes, feeling that he was losing patience.
"Yes. My Princess." He said roughly and coolly, adding the last two words quickly, reminding himself that he had to title her in that disgusting way.
For now.
She stared at him for a long moment with those big eyes of hers and swallowed loudly, something on her face that looked like she had made her decision.
"Vhagar."
He felt a shudder when she said this, remembered a book he had read when he was a small child about a great, terrible dragon that devoured people and burned entire cities.
Could it be that she had read it too?
"I will always treat you with respect and I will never make you do anything to humiliate you or offend your good name." She said with some kind of pain and regret, as if she sympathised with him, he felt his jaw clench tightly, felt for some reason a tightness in his throat at her words.
After a moment, the door closed behind her and he let out a loud breath, swallowing hard, wondering how he was going to stand it all.
However, it turned out that his suffering was rewarded, because already at dinner the next day he heard some interesting information about where they were looking for his body, that the case had still not been abandoned.
He wrote a letter to Criston later that night informing him to leave some false trail in the city's vaults, his old child's robes or anything that would help them think they were on the right trail, which he passed on to a trusted servant aware of everything.
Everything was going according to plan until that little whore took him to see her mother.
As soon as he crossed the threshold of her chamber and heard her voice he recognised her and felt a tightness in his throat, standing at the door, not knowing where to look, his heart pounding like mad.
The new king had locked his wife in the tower like some kind of animal.
He shuddered when he felt her gaze on him, her lips slightly parted, as if she really had seen a ghost.
"The gods are gracious." She whispered in a trembling voice, he felt a sting in his heart at the thought that he was only alive because of her.
"What?" Her daughter asked quietly, as if she didn't understand what her mother had just said, but she wasn't listening, staring at him with a mixture of disbelief and relief.
"You came for me like a death? Have you come to relieve my suffering at last?" She asked in a trembling voice shivering all over, she was pale and thin, he felt his lips involuntarily clench, his eyebrows twisted in pain, his heart pounding like mad.
"Mother, he is a guardian, he will not hurt you. He will protect us."
"Don't take her away. Have mercy on her and my son, they didn't know." She whispered pleadingly and he clenched his eyelids, thinking with rage and despair that Daeron and Helaena were innocent too.
"Stop, please. Please. You need to rest, mother. You need to eat and rest. I'll bring you some new books next time, all right?"
As they walked back downstairs he was completely immersed in his thoughts and wondered how it was possible that she recognised him. He shuddered, coming back down to earth when he heard her daughter's voice, she was leaning against a pillar with no strength, as if she was about to collapse to the ground.
"Kill me."
His healthy eye looked at her open wide in complete shock, he couldn't believe she had said that out loud.
Did she really mean it?
Involuntarily, his hand slid down to the dagger he had hidden under his cloak, he tightened his fingers on its hilt.
"Please, kill me." She whispered, he could feel his hand clamped on the weapon trembling all over, his jaw clenched so tight he thought his bones would break, his heart pounding like mad.
Don't take her away.
Have mercy on her and my son.
He swallowed loudly, thinking with pain that he would be just.
One mercy for one mercy.
His hand let go of the hilt, and she moved abruptly ahead, as if awakened from sleep, and spoke no more to him.
As soon as the door to his sister's chamber closed behind her, one of the ghosts came up to him and told him that he would replace him because the king wanted to speak to him. He nodded his head, tense, praying to the gods not to make him take off his mask.
He would have to kill him then, and he wanted to wait a little while, until they were better prepared.
He repeated to himself that he had to be patient.
That since he had endured so many years, he would endure a few more weeks as well.
He entered the chamber that had belonged to his father, originally in Targaryen red, now all in shades of blue, Lord Walford looked up at him from the book he had just read.
"Come closer." He said coldly, and he wordlessly obeyed his order, looking ahead indifferently with his hands clasped behind him.
"Did my daughter visit her mother today?" He asked, flipping the page with an aggressive, quick gesture that he noticed out of the corner of his eye.
"Yes."
The king hummed under his breath, stretching out comfortably in his richly decorated wooden chair.
"What were they speaking about?" She asked lowly, and he licked his lips, wondering what he should say.
There were guards all around them, they could overhear their conversation, he couldn't come off as a liar in front of him.
He had to stick to his role.
"The Queen expressed disappointment that the young prince was not visiting her. She also raised concerns that I was the personification of death, had come to bring her relief and take her life. She told me to spare her daughter and son because they did not know anything." He recited in a cold, dispassionate tone, the king sighed heavily, running his hand over his face.
"She has completely lost her mind. She keeps poisoning my poor daughter's head." He muttered, looking ahead with indifferent, enraged gaze.
"Take care of her."
He looked at him in disbelief, unsure if he had understood correctly what he expected of him.
"What do you mean, my king?" He asked lowly, uttering the last words with great difficulty. The man looked at him and licked his lower lip with impatience.
"It should look like suicide. Preferably a hanging. That will look the most natural. As long as she lives, our family will never move on."
Walking down the corridor towards the staircase to the chamber in which the queen was being held, he took two ampoules from his pocket, which he had kept for himself in case of need.
He walked all the way up, noticing that there were no guards or servants around, the door to her chamber open, she was sitting on her bed with her hands in her lap and looking towards him smiling, as if waiting for him.
"At last." She said softly, her skinny face as if it had taken on a flush. "I was hoping to see you one day. Believe me, there has not been a day in which I have not prayed for you."
He looked at her impassively feeling a tightness in his throat, playing between his fingers with the glass little bottle he held in his hand.
"You know what I came for." He said matter-of-factly, and she nodded and laughed lightly.
"I've waited a long time for this. For freedom." She replied, suddenly it seemed to him that she was completely sober and awake, that she had known perfectly well all this time what was happening to her.
She was waiting for him to come back and kill her.
He thought with surprise that something moved him at that thought.
"I have a proposition for you, my lady." He said finally, she looked at him sleepily, wrinkling her brows.
"I will spare your daughter and your son if I gain your family's support in taking the throne." He said lowly, raising a hand with a small vial in front of him, waving it in front of her.
"Black tears. That is the name of what I now hold in my hands. A few drops are enough to fall into a deep sleep, a person's heart beats slower, their pulse cannot be felt. However, if one drinks too much, one may not wake up again. Do you understand?" He asked coldly, she looked at the liquid and then at him, disbelief in her gaze.
"I'll help you escape."
When it was all over he informed the king that according to his will his spouse was dead. He came to her in his own person and sat down beside her on the bed, touching her cheek.
"Did she suffer?" He asked as if in pain, thought for a moment that he regretted his decision.
"No. She just fell asleep."
The king ordered that her body be prepared respectfully for burial and that he contact the prior of the monastery on his behalf to conduct the ceremony.
This is what he had been waiting for.
"She is alive. Move her to the monastery and inform her family what her king-husband wanted to do. Criston will give her an infusion that will wake her up. It is best if she vomits a few times, she may also have a fever and be weakened." He said to the man who had been like a second father to him during his years of solitude.
The monk looked at him in horror, both of them standing over her body in the small castle chapel that had once belonged to his mother.
"− you risk a lot −" He said, afraid to use his title aloud, he hummed under his breath, looking at her indifferently.
"− I am paying my debt − you always told me that a good king must be merciful − did you not? −" He asked coldly, the man swallowed loudly and looked again at the body of the sleeping queen.
"We must change the body and put it in the coffin at once. Tell the king that there are nasty marks on the queen's body, probably indicative of the injection of poison. He will then not allow the lid to be opened and will order a burial as soon as possible." He said indifferently and walked away, leaving the monk with his words.
When he returned he headed for the king's chamber and announced to him that everything was ready for a quick, trouble-free burial. The king showed satisfaction at the speed of his work and praised his organisational skills, glad that his face was obscured by a mask so that he could not see how wide his smile was.
Your end is coming, he thought with amusement.
"Summon my daughter." He said, putting a bite of roast into his mouth.
He wasn't surprised by the princess's reaction to what her father had said, he wasn't surprised that she didn't believe it, that she ran in despair towards the chamber where she had spoken to her mother only hours before.
He moved quickly after her, seeing that she was in complete hysterics, and thought that she looked just like he had when her father's soldiers had entered his mother's chamber.
"You fucking bastard!" She shouted wrestling with him desperately, trying to hit him with a candlestick, but he caught her easily, her wrists slender and petite, he thought if he put any more strength into his grip he would break her bones.
"− tell me where she is − please −" She mumbled looking at him pleadingly, the candlestick fell out of her hand with a loud crash of metal against the stone floor.
She was despairing, her face all red from tears, her lips puffed up and glistening, he thought there was something beautiful, noble in her suffering.
"− please, please, Vhagar, I don't want her to be alone −" She whined, and he swallowed loudly at the thought that her father hadn't told her everything, that she thought her mother was still alive.
"It's too late. She didn’t suffer."
She spilled into his hands, what he had told her was too much for her mind and heart, she fainted from grief and pain and he caught her in his arms at the last moment.
He picked her up and started down the stairs with her, her head resting against his chest, he thought she was incredibly light and soft, her pleasant scent filling his entire lungs.
He carried her to her chamber and laid her limp body on her bed. He sat down in the chair beside her, spreading himself out comfortably, taking satisfaction for some reason that he could shamelessly look at her from so close.
Her shoulders were bare, her gown slipped off one of them, exposing her skin in a way that was inappropriate to say the least.
He had spent eight years of his life within the walls of a men's monastery, devoting himself to training, reading and prayer, the last thing he thought about when dreaming of reclaiming his rightful throne were women and the frailties of the human body.
He shuddered when her body moved, her eyelids parted suddenly, her vision hazy and dreamy, the darkness clearly startling her and it took her a moment to realise where she was and what had happened.
Her face finally turned towards him and she froze, her eyes opened wide in horror, her lips began to tremble, he felt like he saw a flash of a tear run down her cheeks.
"You were supposed to protect her." She uttered in pain, he looked at her with an indifferent expression on his face wondering if she would have thrown herself at his neck if she had found out he had helped her mother escape.
"I did." He saw that she furrowed her brow, furious, so he continued, wanting her to understand exactly what order her father had given him.
"I showed her mercy. Your father the king wanted me to make it look like she committed suicide. I gave her poison, after which she just fell asleep, although he suggested hanging. He thought it would look more...natural."
He saw that her eyebrows arched in pain and despair, she pressed her lips together and closed her eyelids, turning on her side, curling up like a small child and huddling in her furs, seeking refuge in the warm fabric.
"When will it be made official?" She asked trying to feign calm, her voice trembling however, betraying her pain and suffering.
"Tomorrow morning the king will convene a gathering and announce the sorrowful news."
She raised her gaze to him, he felt something change in the expression on her face, she was thinking hard about something.
"Do you still have that poison?" She whispered and he felt his heart begin to pump the blood faster through his veins, he pressed his lips together and swallowed loudly, wondering if she was really planning to do what he suspected her of doing.
"…yes."
He looked at her in disbelief as she held out her slim, delicate hand to him, trembling slightly, hanging in the air.
"Have mercy on me too." She said softly, pleadingly, warmly, he felt a tightening in his throat and hesitated, unsure of what he should do.
He had promised her mother he wouldn't kill her with his own hands, but he hadn't said he would stop her from committing suicide.
He got up slowly from his seat with a loud creak of the old wood and pulled out a small vial of leftover poison, enough to kill her. He walked over to her and handed it to her, looking at her with some kind of wide-eyed excitement, wondering what she would do.
He thought she was only pretending, that she wanted to arouse his pity, that she hoped he would stop her at the last moment.
"Is it going to be painful?" She asked in a trembling voice, looking at him helplessly, his heart pounding like mad, he could feel the cold sweat running down the back of his neck.
"No. You'll just fall asleep." He replied softly, and she sighed quietly, as if relieved, startling him when she opened the vial in a perfectly confident motion and immediately tilted its entire contents down her throat.
She swallowed loudly and looked at him with big eyes, horrified as he was by what she had done, by the knowledge that she was going to die, and lay back, tears of sadness, grief and fear streaming down the sides of her face.
She looked like a small child.
"Will you stay with me?" She asked in a trembling voice filled with despair and sorrow, he felt his heart sting, only realising a moment later that he was breathing heavily through his mouth.
"Yes." He whispered, noticed how involuntarily her head slowly slid to the side, her eyelids closed, her lips slightly parted.
She did it.
She couldn't take it and took her own life.
He went to her, pulling the black leather glove from his hand and touched her neck. He pressed his lips together, still sensing her pulse, wondering strenuously whether to let her die.
If it turned out that the king's daughter on his watch had committed suicide, he would have to kill him outright.
They weren't ready yet, they needed the support of her mother's family.
He clamped his eyelids shut and sighed heavily, taking her hair from her face with his fingers and swallowed loudly at the thought that her skin was incredibly warm and soft, he ran his fingertips over it for a moment as if it were a sheet of water before he reached into his coat pocket and took out a second vial.
He took the cork out of it, caught her cheeks in his hand and poured its contents down her throat, lifting her so that she didn't suffocate, her body began to shake.
She snorted loudly and squeezed him tightly, he reached quickly for the bowl of fruit standing next to her bed and dumped it on the stone floor, placing it under her mouth before her body shook with convulsions.
"Come on, you have to get it out of your body. Yes, there we go." He whispered as she began to vomit, looked at her and thought with surprise that for some reason he felt relieved.
She was merely a tool in her father's hands, just like him, surrounded only by a terrifying, cruel, cold darkness.
He thought with some kind of pain, watching her as she fell asleep, shivering with fever and fatigue, that she was as alone as he was. He covered her with thick furs and lasted by her side all night without a wink, wanting to be sure she was still alive.
He was shocked to see that the next day, despite her fever, she got up as if nothing had happened, ordered her servants to help her dress in a black gown even though her father had not yet declared mourning.
Her expression of defiance, her expression of strength.
She was so pale that when he saw her walking in a small procession behind the coffin, he thought she really did look like a ghost, he had the feeling she was about to collapse, yet she walked ahead, her gaze distant, cool and empty.
He watched as she smiled at her father, as she pretended in front of him only to see complete emptiness appear on her face when he disappeared from her sight, a coldness in her gaze from which for some reason he felt a pleasant tickle in his fingertips.
"It's time to go back." He said finally snapping her out of her lethargy. She walked over to the grave where she believed her mother rested and placed her hand on it, tired and filled with pain.
"No. I won't leave her alone this time."
He looked at her impassively, for some reason feeling that he understood her, that like him she blamed herself for not protecting her mother.
They had both lost them at the hands of the same man.
"She's free now." He said calmly.
It wasn't a lie.
He had never lied to her.
She looked at him in a way that made him lift his chin higher, challenging her. She approached him slowly, her face enveloped in a black veil seemed even more mysterious and disturbingly beautiful to him, as if she were not human, her shape seemed slightly blurred to him, as if she did not really exist.
He drew in a loud breath when he felt her hand on his chest, her lips placing a kiss on the cold mask that covered his face in the place below where his cheek had been. He looked at her in disbelief as her hand stroked his mask, smelling the pleasant scent of her skin, a mixture of lavender and chamomile.
"This is my expression of gratitude for your dedication to the affairs of our family." She said with feigned tenderness, her lips slightly parted, her gaze indifferent, sharp, dark. He felt a throbbing inside his breeches and swallowed loudly, embarrassed and horrified by his body's reaction.
He thought, following her back towards the keep, that they were the same.
That as king he would need a queen, a woman who would give him offspring and extend his line.
What would unite the realm more than the marriage of two conflicted sides, bringing peace and order at last?
He thought about it watching her while she was bathing, when she let him stay, saying he could watch, he was completely hard at the thought that when it was all over he would take her for himself, that this warm, soft body with pleasant, girlish shapes that peered through from under her wet chemise would be his alone.
He thought of this only to clench his hands around her neck a moment later, watching her terrified face trying helplessly to catch its breath after thinking horrified that she had ruined everything.
She had found the passage.
Why, why couldn't she just leave it all?
Why was she forcing him to do this when only he could give her freedom of life or death?
He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead against hers, let out a growl of rage and let her go, heard her draw in the air loudly as she looked at him with a gaze full of terror, despair, disbelief, her lips swollen and red from the blood that, through the adrenaline, flowed quickly through her veins.
She was beautiful.
He sighed heavily, involuntarily clinging to her, she trembled all over trying to push him away but he was stronger than her. He began to rub against her body and parted his lips, feeling his manhood respond with a strong pulsing, wave after wave of hot, tickling pleasure flowed through his lower abdomen.
"You are my curse. My ruin." He exhaled, looking closely at her face, her dark, wonderfully long eyelashes surrounded her eyes, staring at him with disbelief, fear and something that made him hot, her eyebrows arched in indecision, her full, moist lips parted slightly, he thought he would have killed for the chance to taste them. "My doom."
He shuddered and lost his breath for a moment when he felt her hands let go of his chest and slide down to his hips, her thighs spread out in front of him, her fingers tightening on his flesh, pressing him tighter against her, she sighed quietly beneath him, breathing louder and louder.
"− destroy me − leave me with nothing −" She whispered, he felt a powerful shudder run through him and he thought it was over, that he had to do it, that he had to feel her.
He didn't believe it when he felt her own hands help him untie and slide down his breeches, he didn't care if she changed her mind, he wanted her and took her, he forced his way inside her with difficulty, her walls clenching against him, resisting him, a whimper of discomfort escaping her lips.
He was panting and moaning along with her, sliding into her with effort all the way in, with a natural, subconscious movement beginning to root into her, delighted at how tight and warm she was, how with each thrust of his hips he slid into her with increasing ease, his movements accompanied by the loud click of her moisture.
She was wet.
"− good gods, you are fucking enjoying this −" He muttered with a sneer and groaned low, feeling her clench tightly around his manhood, he began to thrust into her harder and faster, feeling that something was happening to him, some kind of tension was rising and rising, he felt like his cock was about to explode.
And then it happened.
He came inside her, for the first time in his life he experienced fulfilment and it was so stupefying and pleasurable that for a moment he was just panting with his eyes closed, rooting into her again and again, trying to prolong it, listening to her mewling of pleasure, her cheeks wonderfully pink, her gaze misty, her lips parted sweetly.
He stared at her thinking about the fact that he had filled her to the brim with his seed, that he felt fulfilled as a man, as a lover, as a husband, as a king, as anyone he wanted to be.
He had taken for himself the woman he desired and filled her with himself.
Was there anything more natural?
However, he quickly regained his sobriety of mind as did she, they pulled away from each other terrified, he slid out of her and she moved away quickly, covering her thighs, panting loudly, looking at him in horror, clearly thinking he was still going to try to kill her.
He reached up quickly and tied his breeches, looking at her in disbelief, his manhood still all wet from her juices, from what had flowed out of her after she had reached her peak with him deep inside her.
He looked at her and thought only of the fact that he had never experienced something so pleasurable before in his life.
That through his seed she could soon carry his child in her womb.
That she would become his queen.
_____
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tanadrin · 5 months
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This series of four videos on Ukraine and the Russia-Ukraine conflict is very interesting. The first is basically just a narrative political history of Ukraine from about 2000 to 2014, talking about different political factions that were relevant in the country in the period, and how different internal and external pressures shaped politics. It's very helpful for understanding the Ukrainian political context, including just how recent and just how shallow the supposed tensions between monolingual Russian and bilingual Ukrainian-Russian speakers was in 2014.
The second video is an overview of the Donbass war from 2014-2022, which you might have been vaguely paying attention to at the time. But it's very helpful to have it all laid out in chronological order with the benefit of hindsight, especially due to the obfuscation of Russian operations at the time that made it hard to work out what, exactly, was going on. It's a combination of a good old 19th century-style filibuster (the military expedition, not the parliamentary maneuver), Fox News-style propaganda, and some (rather badly failed) attempts at astroturfing civil unrest--why Russia thought that would work becomes important in Part 4.
Part 3 is just an extended argument that NATO expansion is not relevant to the 2022 invasion of Ukraine, and while I already agreed with that assessment, it's nice to have it laid out in detail. The very very short version is that by NATO's own public criteria, Ukraine was simply not a candidate to join NATO, and had given up on joining NATO, and that had been painfully obvious since at least the Obama administration. Even more frustratingly, there were multiple points where Russia had an offramp to escalation, where it had gotten everything it could have possibly wanted from the conflict in Donbass, and it refused them all.
Part 4 is the author's attempt to explain why it refused them. The very short explanation is that Russia's government is led by idiots, who are very enamored of a flavor of conspiracy theory that has its origins in the LaRouche movement, and which has been bubbling in both left-wing and right-wing circles since 2000. In this worldview, the US government acting through the CIA (or the British royal family, or George Soros, or Jewish bankers, or whoever your bogeyman of choice is) has an almost supernatural ability to overthrow any government on earth by funding performance art groups (seriously), civil society NGOs, and protestors, and that almost every revolution, actual or so-called, since 1989 has been their direct work, from the post-Soviet revolutions, to Euromaidan, to the Arab Spring.
This belief, in its more overt or fragmentary forms, is incredibly popular, spurred on no doubt by historical instances of CIA malfeasance and actual aggressive wars waged by the Bush administration. But the problem is, it's bunk. During Russia's initial moves against Ukraine in 2014, they tried essentially the same playbook in the Donbass, and of course it failed miserably--you cannot actually astroturf a popular uprising. (The CIA has preferred to stage coups and assassinations, which are a different animal from color revolutions.) The separatists in the Donbass eventually had to be supported by a few thousand Russian troops and direct military aid.
But Putin, driven by his own paranoid misunderstanding of world events, the clique of yes-men he has embedded himself in, and his fear of gay Nazi Jewish CIA agents, simply got Russia in over its head. There is no offramp because Russia cannot articulate what its goals are, and because "stop trying to use George Soros to overthrow the Russian government" is not something the US can agree to, since they are not doing it. The only thing that might have prevented Putin fucking with Ukraine in the first place was maybe if rigging the parliamentary election in 2011 hadn't resulted in protests, in which Putin saw the specter of the hand of the CIA--but of course the US and NATO and the EU had nothing to do with that!
And to cap it all off, since the 2010s the LaRouche movement and its theory of color revolutions has been making inroads in China, so we have that to look forward to in coming decades.
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sam24 · 3 months
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Metal Arm Cupid
Summary: Bucky didn't know what to expect in the 21st century. But he definitely didn't expect cute girls to barge into meeting rooms and beat people up.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader
*****
Bucky made no attempt to stifle his yawn as he pretended to listen to the debrief (that was looking more like an argument to him) that was going on way too long for his liking, earning a sharp glare from Steve, but Bucky could tell that deep down, Steve wanted to hightail outta there too.
“Stop taking all the credit, Josh. I was the one who stabbed him. You just sat there and watched like an obese cow.”
Josh (Bucky thought his name was Jack until now) scoffed. “That’s Agent 16 to you, Avery.”
“It’s actually Avril, you little-”
“Agents, you better stop this instantly.” Fury narrowed his eyes at the bickering partners.
“Stop embarrassing me in front of the Avengers, Evelyn, and let me do the talking. Clearly you can’t because of those oversized donkey teeth of yours.” Josh paid no heed to Fury.
The girl (Avril?) gasped and her hand instinctively flew to cover her mouth. “Why you-”
“Okay, that’s enough.” A dangerously calm voice rang through the room.
All eyes flew towards Natasha, you looked like she was going to murder the next person who opened their mouth.
“This is why I don’t go on missions with sensitive baby agents.” She muttered in Russian.
Bucky cracked a smile.
“How come no one listens to me?” Fury grumbled.
“Probably because you aren’t a trained assassin with 20 different weapons hidden on your body, and I bet you also don’t know 5 different ways to kill someone with an oven mitt.” Clint whispered in Fury’s ear.
“It doesn’t matter who stabbed who, it matters what happened in the end. And in the end, I was the one you saved your ungrateful asses, so you can stop arguing like toddlers now.” Natasha growled.
Her eyes narrowed specifically at Josh.
Nobody spoke. Probably because no sane person wanted a bullet from Natasha’s gun in their head.
“You seriously couldn’t have done that 20 minutes ago?”
Of course, though, Tony Stark was far from sane.
“Shut up, Tony.” At least 5 different people said at the same time.
Josh cleared his throat, recovering from his mini paralysis stroke.
“No offense, but-”
Before Josh could get himself killed, loud voices outside of the door made everyone turn.
Honestly, they all probably would’ve turned even to watch a fly so they could ignore Josh’s excuses.
“Miss, I can’t let you-”
“I really don’t care, so move. Now.”
Bruce immediately sat up. “Is that Ace?”
“Oh, thank god.” Tony let out a dramatic sigh of relief. “I’m so bored right now, maybe she’ll make this actually interesting.”
Even though Bucky’s stay at the compound started recently, he had heard plenty of stories about you, the infamous ‘Ace’. To what he’d heard, you worked at the lab with Bruce and Tony, like a daughter to them both. You were an ‘intellectual sage’ (described by Barton), hence the nickname, Ace.
“I said, MOVE!”
“Banner, what is the meaning of this?” Fury ordered.
Bruce furrowed his eyebrows and completely ignored him. “What in the world is she doing?”
“Banner!”
“I SAID MOVE, DAMNIT.” A loud thud followed closely and the door was flung open so hard it practically ripped off of its hinges.
“Lord have mercy.” Bruce buried his face into his hands as you barged into the room, pulling along a terrified looking girl behind you.
Bucky’s eyebrows raised with interest as he took in your purple highlights, Converse High-Tops, and Gravity Falls shirt peeking out from under your lab coat.
“Look, missy, in case you haven’t noticed, this is a private meeting. I’m going to give you 5 seconds to leave before I have you escorted out instantly.” Fury demanded.
“Yeah, that’s cool, Patchy the Pirate, just give me a minute.” You weren’t even looking at Fury as you scanned the room.
“Ha! Patchy the Pirate! Laura’s gonna love this!” Clint smacked his hand on the table and leaned his chair back (and almost fell backwards if Steve didn’t catch it, but that’s not the point).
Fury looked like he was seriously contemplating life as you still didn’t spare him a glance, and your narrowed hawk eyes landed on someone behind Bucky.
He followed your gaze to meet Josh, who had raised two fingers in the air cockily to greet you and the girl behind you.
“Josh, you mother fucker.”
And before Steve could say ‘language!’ (yes, Bucky had caught on pretty quickly after Tony would say it every other sentence), you had crossed the room in what felt like just two strides and socked Josh right in the jaw.
The room erupted in chaos.
“Whoa whoa whoa!” Steve was up on his feet in a millisecond, his Captain America side taking over.
“That’s it, honey! Do it again!” Tony cheered.
“Is this some kind of Midgardian greeting that I have not yet been informed of?”
“Someone tell me what the hell is going on in my own meeting!”
“That was the best thing I’ve seen in my whole life.” Avril grinned.
Natasha didn’t say anything, but her face clearly said ‘girl, me too’.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.” Sam chuckled from next to Bucky.
“Same.” Bucky muttered under his breath.
“Whoa hold up, did you just agree with me??”
“Shut up, pigeon brain.”
“Excu-”
The only thing that stopped Sam and Bucky’s cat fight was another punch to Josh’s precious face, this time right in the nose.
Bruce tried to reason with you from across the whole ass room, practically shouting over all the commotion as Steve tried to pull you away from Josh.
“Ace, sweetheart, why don’t you talk it out instead of going straight to violence? Doesn’t that sound like a better idea?”
“Sounds great, Bruce, but that’s not an option anymore!” You shouted back over your shoulder.
“Look, champ, it’s not right to randomly punch people like that!” Steve was still trying to pry you away from Josh.
“Look, Pops,” You mocked. “It’s also not right to cheat on your girlfriend with some random chick you ran into at a bar!”
Everything stopped.
Except Josh’s struggling from your grasp.
“He cheated on you?” Tony broke the silence, looking like he was going to blast Josh into outer space. “Wait, when were you guys even together? And why in the goddamn world would you date that guy?”
“Not me, dimwit, her.” You point your free hand that was not gripped on Josh’s collar at the girl behind you, looking ready to sprint out of there when all eyes landed on her.
“Just leave it, ma moitié, it’s not worth it.” She said quietly, her words coated in a thick french accent.
Bucky recognized her as the nice agent who gave him a coffee last week after Sam ‘accidentally’ knocked over Bucky’s.
“Just leave it? Absolutely not, hun!”
“Listen to her, Ace.” Bruce pleaded.
“No! This sleazy bastard cheated on my best friend! No fucking way! Literally, who the hell would cheat on a cute french girl?”
“Ace, violence isn’t the right way to-”
“Excuse me?” Josh’s voice rang out, sounding like someone was holding his nose closed shut. “Can someone get me an ice pack?”
You whipped around towards him.
“You. Want. An. Ice pack.” You restated, shooting daggers- no, 7 inch sharp kitchen knives at him.
“My nose hurts.” Josh rolled his eyes. “Y’know, after you turned all Crazy Psycho Lady on me and broke it.”
“You know what?” Your smile dripped with bitterness and sarcasm. “How about I punch it again so it’ll go numb and it won’t hurt anymore?”
You reached your arm backwards to land another punch, but Steve rushed to grab you again, and the chaos resumed.
Tony was instructing you to “kick Steve in the balls and resume beating the shit out of Josh”, while Bruce was very strongly vetoing the idea.
Sam and Clint, meanwhile, were placing bets on how much the medical bill was gonna be.
Suddenly, Bruce rushed over to Bucky.
“Look, man, you gotta help me.”
Bucky looked at Bruce with wide eyes. “Me?”
“Yeah! If you tell her to stop, she would in a heartbeat!”
“Why?” Bucky knew where this was going.
“Because of your metal arm!”
Bucky’s heart sank. Of course you were scared of it. Everyone was. They thought it made him a monster.
So did he.
Even though he was so, so grateful to Shuri for trying to help him feel like a new person with a new arm that wasn’t associated with HYDRA, that bloody ruthless murderer that they made him into never seemed to leave.
He would always be him.
No matter how hard he tried, the memories followed him like a lost puppy, attacking at night when he was trying to sleep.
No matter how hard he tried, he could never shake off the imprint HYDRA had left on him.
No matter how hard he tried or how much Steve told him otherwise, Bucky was still a monster.
A cruel, cold-hearted, evil monster who killed the innocent.
Who killed innocent men, women, and children who didn’t deserve to be killed.
He was the one who deserved to be killed.
“She’s absolutely obsessed with it!”
Bucky choked on his spit.
“Wha-w-what?”
“She adores it.” Bruce rushed. “She says it’s, and I quote, the most beautiful and extraordinary thing to ever be made in history.”
Okay, so apparently Bucky did not know where that was going.
“Still not convinced?” Bruce groaned. “She thinks it’s the most amazing thing in the galaxy. She says it’s the ‘peak of engineering’. You can ask Tony if you still don’t believe me.”
Tony wasn’t extremely fond of Bucky, and neither was Bucky of him, so he decided to take Bruce’s word for it, no matter how much it shocked him.
She likes my arm?
Just because she likes your arm doesn’t mean she likes you, idiot.
“Uh, okay? So, um, what do I do?”
“Tell her to stop!” Bruce lightly shoved Bucky forward when he slowly got up out of his seat.
Bucky hesitantly took a step forward, his mind still trying to process everything.
Bucky maneuvered around Steve, tapping you - who was still out to get it for Josh- on the shoulder after a moment of hesitation.
“Bruce, I already told you, it’s too late-” You spun out of Steve’s grip, but your mouth dropped open when you realized it was not Bruce.
You stared at Bucky with wide eyes. But not out of fear.
Out of adoration.
He was struck with a sudden flash of nostalgia of how his mom looked at him when he gave her a card for Mother’s Day when he was 6.
"Oh, Jamie, I love it.” She had said as she read it with a soft smile.
And that same smile was on your face. “Um, hi there.”
He smiled back.
But not one of those fake smiles he put on to make Steve happy. An actual genuine smile.
And it felt good.
You smoothed out your coat, taking in a breath. “Can I help you?”
Steve stared at the two of you, a grin spreading onto his face.
“I’m not surprised. Those psychos are perfect for each other.” Josh rolled his eyes.
Neither of you heard him.
“Hi, I’m Bucky.”
“She knows.” Tony groaned.
“Shut up, Tony.” Your eyes never left Bucky’s. “Hi Bucky.”
He saw your eyes light up as they made their way to look at his metal arm.
Bruce cleared his throat loudly.
“So, um, Ace. The arm has been giving me a bit of trouble recently. I was wondering if you could maybe take a look at it?” Bucky glanced at Bruce before looking back at you.
“He means now.” Bruce added.
You looked like you were going to faint out of excitement.
“Y-yeah, of course.”
Bruce let out a loud sigh of relief.
“Um, actually.” Bucky started.
Bruce’s head shot up and started mouthing something to Bucky - probably something along the lines of ‘No! Get her out of here before she kills him!’- but he was busy looking at you.
“Maybe you wanna grab a coffee first?”
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Text
Apple Merchant [BOTW!Link x Isekai!Reader] (Part 4)
Link learns some things. And so do you.
Yet another for the ever growing pile of self-indulgent garbage refuse. Enjoy the process of decomposition with me for a while.
Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4
Masterlist
TW: Choosing not to display warnings. Read at your own discretion.
Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise.
---
The yiga. A faction of Ganon worshipping traitors formerly of the Sheikah clan, whose main objective is to kill the Hero known as Link (in other words, himself). Known for their distinctive red body suits and white masks. And, strangely enough, their love of bananas.
They were also currently at the very top of Link's (until recently non-existent) shit list, because AM had deemed their threat level too great to allow them to meet each other freely. As Blue had told him, AM's profession placed them at greater danger than the average citizen to the assassins' blades. What that profession was, Link was not told (despite his pleading and intense stares and even one memorable attempt to bargain for the information), but it was deemed necessary to maintain distance because of this.
There were plenty of other useful things in the book too. Not a letter or a note or even a small bundle of documents. A book. An honest to Goddess book. Because there was nothing else the ridiculously thick, neatly piled collection of leather bound miscellaneous papers, maps, diagrams, notes and documents could be. It was the thickness of Link's hand for goodness sakes.
Thankfully, Blue had taken mercy on him (and his desire to get moving as soon as possible) and bookmarked the pages and maps that would be most useful to him. All while giving him that bland, graceful smile of hers and explaining that AM was a very proactive information gatherer, but that they didn't always consider that not everyone wanted to know the exact region Sneaky snails bred in or where the highest priced wheat could be found.
Link very deliberately didn't tell her that he did, in fact, find those very interesting topics to learn about (and that he would be reading through the entire book when he got the chance. later). Because he was still stung that she'd given him a condescending little smile (smirk, it was a damned smirk and Link knew it) when he'd tried to bargain with her for more information on AM.
In total, he'd spent three days in Hateno, gathering information (as though the book wasn't enough), gathering supplies (because as many as were in the slate, it didn't have everything a warrior would need to maintain his gear. Blue's words, not his) and getting to know the people around the area.
Also, armor. Costume fitted (Link didn't think too hard about how Blue had gotten his measurements) as to AM's specifications before they'd left town. The order arrived a little later due to his (apparently) small size causing complications with some of the straps.
Honestly, it felt good. It felt familiar with a hazy kind of comfort that spoke of his body's remembrance of such armor resting upon it often. And suddenly, in that moment, the thought that he had once been a knight didn't feel so far off, despite having no memory of it and very little desire to become as such again.
Ready to go (finally) he put on his boots, tightened the straps of his new (fitted. maybe he'd see about getting his Sheikah armor fitted as well if he was in the area) hyrulian armor set, and took one last shot before departing.
"Where can I get more bananas?" Link tried, going for casual but coming off far too intense for it to be anything but prying. "For the Yiga problem."
Blue just smiled (small and condescending, and so frustrating) before replying evenly. "AM has that well in hand I'd imagine." The knowing glint in Blue's eyes put a pout on Link's face. "It's best you focus on your mission, Courageous One." Then she smiled genuinely. Just a bit, but enough to ease Link's heart as she continued. "Fear naught for your beloved AM. No harm shall befall them while my sister haunts their shadow."
Link believed her. And with that little bit of reassurance, the Hero of Hyrule set out into the world once more. With courage in his heart and his goal ever at the forefront of his mind.
Defeat the Calamity guy. Meet AM. Travel this vast, wondrous world with them for the rest of their days. Or, maybe one day settle down more permanently in Hateno and open a food stand.
Anywhere life took them. Whatever you wanted. This was the beginning of his new life after all, and he was so eager to spend it with you.
---
You stared up at the quickly growing pile of bright yellow fruit with something like regret stabbing at your heart. Just thinking about how much rupees you were about to drop on this one purchase alone was enough to put a hitch in your throat. It was enough to have you contemplating a long walk off that equally long (absurdly long) wooden bridge just next to the stable.
When you'd stopped at Lakeside Stable for the night and told Adino you'd pay him market price for any bananas he brought back to you before you left. You hadn't expected him to take that as a challenge. You hadn't expected Skims to get involved in it as well. And you most certainly had not expected Red to show up out of nowhere with a pile rivaling (and maybe even surpassing) Adino's.
And thus, within the span of a few short hours, you were suddenly several thousand rupees poorer (not that that pantry amount even scratched the surface of your accumulated wealth, but you digress) and many, many bananas richer.
At least they tasted good.
"Not that I'm against your presence. But why are you here, Red?" You asked the red clad woman after (with a heavy heart) passing out everyone's pay for the bananas they'd brought you. (Skims and Red didn't even have the grace to look ashamed for muscling in on the quick profit either, the jerks.)
She didn't even pause from where she'd been fingering through her newly acquired (ill gotten) gains when she hummed playfully. "Oh. Gran thought it'd be wise to send along a little extra protection to ensure The Hero's benefactor remained unmolested during these most crucial of times."
The look on your face must have been confused enough to spur Red to explain. "Gran told us to keep you in the dark about our motivations, but I like you. So I'll tell you the truth, since you seem like the reasonable sort." She finally put the rupees down and turned to face you, eyes hardening into a serious shade of near black as she explained.
"The Hero is without his memory, and until recently, was without motivation to see his mission through with the urgency it requires. Had he been as he was before, just the mention of the Princess would have been enough to send the guy running, if you believe the rambling of nostalgic old gossip crows." Her lips twisted into something too complicated to decipher before it was neutral again.
"But he's not the man he used to be. He's not the princess's knight anymore for all his destiny would push him to be. And so, he needed a new motivation to get him moving." She gave you a smile, but it wasn't a nice one (it was one full of spite and pity, though only the pitying part was directed at you). "That's you. The guy loves you already. Call it situational stockholm or just that damned knightly instincts of his, but you are the apple of his eye." She tried to soften her smile into something humorous, but it fell short.
"Bottom line. You're the replacement motivation. Just until he gets enough of his memories back to get invested in the Princess' wellbeing." She flicked a rupee off the stump she'd gathered them on, expression very closed off as she continued.
"Whenever Mr. hero gets a little too comfortable playing house, we're supposed to dangle you in his face and get him interested again. That you seem invested in his success was just a bonus. Be it the Will of Hylia or just simple coincidence, doesn't matter. You're useful, and if it gets the Princess out of that Hell, we're willing to use that."
Another smile, sharp but honest. "It's our duty after all, to serve the royal family. I'm sure you understand." Despite the way the information settled sourly in your stomach you nodded, keeping your expression as even as possible.
She noticed though, and suddenly her hand was on yours (you hadn't noticed it tightening into a fist). "Don't fret, Apples." She smiled again, softer this time. Eyes lighted with a compassion that held such raw honesty despite her earlier words. "My sister and I are not going to let the elders use you like that. You might have asked yourself why Bluey isn't here instead, since, you know-" She smirked, side-eyeing Adino who'd gone some distance off to try to find more bananas (to take more of your rupees, the little bastard).
"We will fulfill our duties. For the protection of Hyrule and everything we love. But not at your's or your dear Hero's expense. At least, not like that. You see, Bluey has something I do not, and that is a gentle touch. She'll take care of the Hero in the way he needs, not the way that'll get the fastest results." Her smirk widened. "And she's got more of a rebellious streak than me too. Trust in her. She'll protect your dear Hero. Even if she has to spit in the elders' eyes to do it. She never could put her heart aside for the sake of duty."
You were silent for a time, digesting her words with the weight and attention they deserved, before looking back to her. A smile on your lips, and your hand out before her in the gesture of a shake.
"I look forward to doing business with you then, Red." You began, letting the edge of your resolve sharpen your eyes and embolden your words. "Let's do our best to protect Link and save Zelda. We'll give it everything we've got."
Red grinned, full and bright and smug (so unbearably smug, like she had won the lottery. which they didn't have here, and you were not interested in introducing any time soon either). "I knew you were gonna understand. The Goddess wouldn't choose just anyone to guard her chosen's heart."
You blinked. "What?"
Red picked up another rupee, flicking it at you. "What~?"
---
Now, off to work! And then the shadows to rest.
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