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yelena-bellova · 3 years

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Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter Ten

chapter nine - Chapter Ten: Heroes - chapter eleven

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n, Sam and Bucky make one final effort to stop the Flag Smashers.

Warnings: spoilers for episode.6, violence, character death (major), wounds, blood, ANGST ANGST ANGST, Bucky and Y/n are a badass couple, Sam and Y/n are a badass sibling duo, everybody’s a badass, inaccurate medical care (unless you consider google legit then it’s for real lol)

Word Count: 8.6k

A/N: GUYS. SECOND TO LAST CHAPTER. HOW DID WE GET HERE?!?! This one was challenging to write because I wanted to still make it mainly focus on Sam and not detract from his story while incorporating another one, hopefully I did it justice. Smaller amount of Bucky Y/n fluff purely because of plot. Imma shut up now and let you guys judge it for yourselves, hopefully you enjoy ☺️

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I’d always wanted to visit New York, I just never thought that the circumstances in which I’d come would be so dire.

Surprisingly, flying from Delacroix to the city hadn’t been as draining as I’d thought, the adrenaline rushing through me was enough to keep my stamina up. Once I got into the state I shot up higher, the only way to pinpoint the city’s location was by sight alone. The mass of flashing red, white and blue lights served as a literal guiding light and I followed it till my feet made contact with the ground. I landed in between two buildings, a safe distance away from the commotion but close enough that I could intervene if needed. Sam had told me to go ahead of him and meet up with Bucky, the two of us would be on the ground while Sam took care of business with the senators. “Something’s different…” the voice I’d gone days without hearing announced from behind me, “New haircut?” I smirked and turned to face Bucky, “Do you get bulletproof suits for all the girls that catch your eye?” “Only the ones I really like,” he smiled, cradling my cheek in his hand and giving me an overdue kiss before pulling back to admire the suit, “Looks good on you.” The suit that Bucky had the Wakandans design for me was made almost entirely of Vibranium. It was sapphire blue, the same color of my energy with accent lines of silver running through it to define the shape. It clung tight to my body without showing off too much, the v neckline ended just below my collarbone. Hidden behind Bucky’s note in the case had also been a note from Shuri, the princess of Wakanda, listing that the suit was bullet proof and should I choose to channel my energy through a specific part of my body, the Vibranium would absorb and redistribute it to amplify my strike. The whole ensemble made me feel an official member of whatever club I’d decided to join.

I opened my fingerless glove adorned palm out to Bucky, offering him one of the comms Sam had given me and placing the other in my ear. “Ready?” he asked.

For once, I could answer feeling fully confidant in my capabilities. I reached out and squeezed Bucky’s hand, giving a single nod, “Ready.”

The two of us made our way out from between the buildings and headed into the heart of the chaos. There were news crews, police officers, soldiers and SWAT teams while innocent bystanders quickly fled the scene.

“Sam, where you at?” I said into my comm.

“I’m almost there,” he replied.

“What’s the plan?” Bucky asked from beside me.

“Karli’s gotta be close, keep your eyes open.” “Well, it could be anybody…” Bucky said quietly as we passed by a group of officers.

We headed for the building in which the senators were being held, the SWAT team immediately parting to allow Sergeant Barnes and myself to enter. Whether or not he was paying attention to anything other than finding Karli, I wasn’t sure, but I smiled internally at the fact that they’d recognized him for what he should have been recognized for all this time.

“Oh, we also called in some backup,” I relayed to Bucky.

“Excuse me, sir, ma’am,” we turned to see a man in a beanie following us, “Are you supposed to be here?” Bucky looked stunned and slightly concerned while I stayed calm, recognizing the signal. Immediately, Sharon ripped off the technologically advanced mask that concealed her identity. “It’s me.” “Sharon, what the hell are you doing here?” Bucky asked.

I gestured to the woman, “Backing us up…” “Relax, no one’s looking for me here,” she said, pulling on Bucky’s arm in an effort to get us away from the crowd. “Is that Sharon?” Sam asked over the comms.

“Unfortunately,” Bucky answered, earning a light, disapproving smack from me to his chest.

“Hey, Sam, I thought I’d get the band back together,” Sharon said into her earpiece.

“Thank you, you’re risking a lot coming here.” I took a step forward towards the blonde, “If you want me to fly you out of here, now’s the time.”

She gave a little shrug, “I hear pardons aren’t all they’re cracked up to be anyway.”

“Depends on the therapist,” Bucky grumbled.

“They’re gonna move on the building soon. Be ready,” Sam’s voice flowed into my ear.

“Same goes for you,” I replied, trying to compartmentalize the constant anxiety that ran through me in regards to my brother’s safety. Though knowing he wore vibranium wings now did help ease my fears a little. I turned my attention back to Sharon and Bucky, “Let’s split up and do a perimeter check. Front’s clear so I’ll take the back, you two take the sides.” “Wow,” Sharon smirked, “Give you a suit and suddenly you’re Miss Take Charge.” I shot her smirk right back at her as she headed down her side of the building while Bucky and I went around the other way. “Somethin’ changed while I was gone,” he observed as we walked. “You made amends,” I replied, flashing back to my visit to the graveyard, “I made peace.” I expelled energy from my fingertips to float above him and fly to the back of the building, not a soul in sight.

“Y/n, Sharon, Bucky, what’s going on on your end?” Sam asked.

“Nothing, all quiet,” Bucky answered. “Same here,” I said, taking another look around me to be sure,

“No one’s moving toward the building,” Sharon added.

“Karli’s not coming in. She’s trying to force everybody out,” Sam said, “It’s a misdirect, we gotta keep everybody inside.”

I levitated once again and headed to the front of the building, finding Bucky and Sharon waiting for me. Once I landed, we entered through the glass doors. “You guys are gonna have to do something,” Sam panted through the comm, “Don’t let ‘em out of the building.”

We passed through the building’s metal detectors one by one with no issue, till the alarm sounded off on Sharon. “Oops,” she muttered unconvincingly. “Here’s one of them,” Bucky said, gesturing towards a man in a security uniform, a Flag Smasher, “We’ll get the evac.” Bucky and I winded around the halls but didn’t get far before a woman came walking towards us with a phone extended out in her palm, “Mr. Barnes, Miss. Y/l/n, it’s Karli.” How she knew my name baffled me, Bucky reached for the phone regardless and took note of the orange handprint projected on the screen. He placed the call on speaker, “Karli?”

“Aren’t you two tired of fighting for the wrong side?” the young girl asked.

Bucky scoffed as we stepped down a staircase, “I’ve done this before, kid. I know how it ends.”

“It doesn’t matter if I don’t survive this,” she replied, “I’m fighting for something bigger than myself. With all the bodies you’ve collected, have you been able to say the same?”

“You don’t think I ever fought for something bigger than myself?” Bucky asked, “That’s all I ever tried to do. And I failed twice.” I tugged Bucky’s arm so the phone was in front of me, “Karli, all I’ve ever wanted was to use my powers for good. I respect the fight you’re fighting but this isn’t the way to win it.” “Believe me, I know all about your father’s crimes,” she spoke back, “I looked you up after meeting you in Riga, and trust me, the side you’re on is no better than the one your dad was one.” My heart clenched at her words, I knew that she was a black and white person who only dealt in absolutes, but it didn’t mean hearing it didn’t hurt. “If you wanted to do any real good, you’d have joined us,” Karli continued, “You’d have needed to get your hands dirty, but you’d have made an actual difference.” “You think your cause justifies all this death,” Bucky stepped in and took the wheel, “But in the end, the nightmares won’t go away. You’re gonna remember all the ones you killed. Trust me. Don’t do this. Don’t go down this path.”

There was a hopeful pause over the line, followed by a disappointing response. “If that’s how the both of you feel, you should sit this one out.” I glanced over at Bucky, sharing the same tired, yet determined look I was displaying. “That’s not gonna happen.” “Well, thank you,” Karlie replied, “I’m glad you took my call, you’ve been a big help.” She hung up then, the realization hitting me immediately as to why she’d called us. “The evac,” I breathed, “It was a deterrence.”

“Damn it,” Bucky growled with a clenched jaw, “Come on!”

We raced through across the floor of the building, making for the winding staircase lit up with flashing emergency lights that would lead us to the parking lot. Since we were the only two fleeing the building that particular way, it was a safe bet to make that the hostages had already been evacuated. Once we were in the parking lot, Bucky took the lead and led me to a parked row of motorcycles, quickly hot-wiring one.

“Seriously, guys, you had one job,” Sharon popped out from behind a pillar to critique us.

“You worry about your guy,” Bucky grumbled as he swung his leg over to straddle the vehicle, I promptly did the same, “Good?” Locking my arms around his torso and scooching forward so my Vibranium chest was pressed against his back, I nodded. “Good.” Bucky floored the gas pedal and we rode off with an echoing screech, finding our way through the garage’s exit. A blockade of soldiers yelled at us as we quickly approached them, shooting through the gap between barriers and whipping around the street corner. On any other occasion I’d have enjoyed clinging tight to Bucky’s body as we rode through the cool New York evening air. Sadly, there was no time to savor the moment.

“That’s one down,” Sharon’s voice came through my comm. “How’d you manage that?” Sam joined in. “Mercury vapor, amongst other things.” Bucky made a sharp turn down one of the streets causing me to clutch his middle tighter, “Any idea where they’ll be headed?” “I thought you were the one in charge,” Bucky retorted over the engine’s noise. “You better speed things up, Sam,” Sharon said, “The chopper’s about to take off.” “Bucky, Y/n,” Sam called, grunts following directly after. Bucky halted at a light, determining the rest of our course. “I don’t fly, man, that’s your guys’ thing.” He revved the bike and turned down a different street.

I pressed a hand to my ear, “Meet you there.” Placing a reassuring hand on Bucky’s shoulder, I levitated off the motorcycle and watched him continue on his path while I turned in the opposite direction and headed back through the city. From across the way, I could see the silhouette of Sam’s wings as he jumped off of the building after the helicopter. The chopper had taken a nose dive and was headed for the street, pulling up just before it hit the overpass. I quickened the speed in which I was flying over the bay, catching up to Sam soon enough. He flew lower than me, his new wings dipping into the waters before he shot back up.

“Plan?” I called into the comms as I kept close to the rear of the chopper. “We gotta take out the pilot,” Sam answered, “Take the left side.” I flew to my designated spot and reached out a hand to grasp onto one of the bars of the plane. Reabsorbing my energy, I put full faith in my grip as I dangled off of the helicopter in mid flight. I poked my head out to the window on the pilot’s side only to be given a front row seat to his attempt to kill Sam, firing a machine gun till my brother was forced to pull back and off the chopper. The pilot whipped his head around to lay eyes on me, aiming his gun. Lightning fast, I let go of the bar and narrowly escaped the shots fired, throwing my hands out and expelling energy to resume my flight. Sam wasn’t far behind, we took off in tandem with one another with him sending Redwing ahead to see if any of the hostages had flight training. As the chopper plunged towards the water, we moved in synch with it, just a few hundred feet behind in a dance of sorts. In the distance, I could barely make out the shape of an almost identical vehicle headed towards the one we were tailing, this one bearing the logo of the NYPD. Our chopper rammed itself into the front of the police copter, sending it spinning in a spiral of smoke and fire. If we didn’t get there in time, it would crash into one of the skyscrapers or worse. Sam and I changed course and made a beeline for it. “Get the co-pilot,” Sam yelled as he swerved to my left.

I flew up to the side window and shot an energy blast towards it, smashing the glass and startling the co-pilot. I then levitated him out of the chopper and flew the two of us down to the bridge below us, Sam was right behind me with the pilot. The plane was losing altitude fast and was headed straight for our rescue party. Before I could even think to build a force field, Sam shoved me and the pilots down and shielded us with his wings. I felt the Vibranium shake as the plane bounced off of us and over the edge of the bridge. Sam retracted his wings and the two of us rose to our full heights, him in all his red, white and blue glory.

“Go, I got this,” he instructed, taking off into the skies before I could put up a fight.

I levitated high above the bridge to get a birds eye view of the city, “Bucky, where are you?”

“42nd Street, heading west,” he answered

“I’m a tourist, those words mean nothing to me.”

“I’m passing a building with white and red lights,” he modified his answer. My eyes searched for the building he was talking about, spotting it quickly and taking off toward it. I looked below me to see two humvees and multiple bodies running around them. “Found them, they’re trying to build a-“ “I see ‘em, coming in hot,” Bucky interrupted, I could see his motorcycle speeding down the street and toward the barricade the Flag Smashers had arranged. Taking a leap, or rather a fall of faith, I absorbed my energy and free fell, throwing my hands out and releasing it just before my feet hit the ground. Bucky wasn’t far behind, leaping off his motorcycle and diving forward to tackle one of the Flag Smashers. The man jumped to his feet and Bucky engaged him in combat, the two exchanging punches with Bucky having more favor. In a split second of separation between the two I shot a blast of energy at the man that sent him flying backwards into the side of a truck, creating a super soldier shaped dent in the car. A sudden explosion sounded off nearby, I turned to see that one of the humvees had been set ablaze. Bucky and I ran to the vehicle, I sent an energy blast towards the high tech lock that had been placed on the back doors. It did absolutely nothing.

“Hold on,” Bucky shouted to the screaming hostages as he used his Vibranium arm to pull on the door handle. Even he couldn’t get it open. “Help me!”

I focused all my energy on the lock, sending unsuccessful blast after unsuccessful blast. Letting out a frustrated cry, I backed away giving Bucky another chance to try. He began throwing a stream of relentless punches, his determination growing with each hit. Eventually he’d done enough damage that he switched to pulling at the door’s bar. The pain on his face as he pulled was heartbreaking, the tendons and muscles where his prosthetic met his flesh stretching to too great a length. Making one last ditch effort, I extended my energy towards the handle to help him in his efforts. Together, we strained and struggled until the lock finally broke and the doors opened. While Bucky kept his footing, I fell backwards doing a very ungraceful somersault and landed on my side. What I saw happening in front of me was almost too shocking to believe, and yet not at all.

John Walker was getting his ass kicked by the Flag Smashers.

With a replica of the iconic shield that was definitely not made of Vibranium and his suit, he was lying on the ground being pummeled by the super soldiers. With the vigor in which they were attacking him, I knew that the metal wouldn’t protect him forever. The man that I hated, who had tried to kill me, Sam and Bucky, who had shed innocent blood on Steve’s legacy…I could have let them kill him and I should have wanted to.

But even in my hatred, I couldn’t let a man die.

I rose to my feet and sent a stream of energy towards two of them, knocking them a few feet away from Walker. The third who I deduced to be Karli, came charging at me. I threw up a force field to act as a shield and met each one of her punches with the energy. She let out grunts of frustration, going for a roundhouse kick but giving me just enough time to drop the field and levitate her into the air. I held her there a second, watching her flail about trying to escape before tossing her several hundred feet away from us towards the end of the street. The two Flag Smashers that I’d knocked over came charging back toward me, it was time to test out just what the suit could do…

I focused my energy out through my elbow and hit one of them square in the jaw, the energy sending him rolling down the road far greater a distance that I’d have been able to cause without the Vibranium amplifying it. I turned around to the other one, dodging a quick punch before sending my energy down to my foot, landing a kick my attacker’s stomach that caused him to go airborne and land on top of one of the trucks. Unfortunately, the first guy didn’t stay down as long as I needed him to and came up from behind me and landed a kick to my back. I fell to the road with a groan, felt the burn of the asphalt as it shredded my cheek. I heard the man rip something metal followed by the sound of his thick boots coming my way, undoubtably he’d grabbed something to use as a weapon. As I rose to take another stand, I saw Bucky come running past me and turned to watch him knock the Flag Smasher over, the man dropping the toll meter he’d been holding as a bat over me. Bucky strode forward and they began fighting one another with punches and kicks while I looked around to see Karli welding the unattended meter. She swung it towards Bucky, his avoidance of the hit and my creation of a force field around him totally in synch. Karli took another swing at him and met resistance, unable to move the weapon as I froze it in place with my energy.

“You don’t have to do this,” I urged her.

With a yell she let go of the weapon and dove for me, being hit in the face with a chain that Bucky had picked up. Before I could stop it, the Flag Smasher who had originally intended to hit me with the toll meter landed a kick that sent Bucky flying backwards. His metal hand scraping the asphalt as he desperately tried to hold on before going over the edge of the nearby construction site. “BUCKY!” I cried as he screamed into the night air just before Karli kicked me down herself, and landed a punch to my abdomen. The Vibranium, while giving me protection, still allowed some of the blow to reach me and I was in just enough pain that I couldn’t go after the Flag Smasher that leapt down into the construction hole Bucky had landed in. I sent a blast of energy at Karli, throwing her back and allowing me the time to stand up and regain my footing. At the same time I rose, so did Walker, the two of us sharing eye contact that was oceans away from the last time we’d met on the battlefield. Separating once again, he turned to lift one of the Flag Smashers up by her throat while I landed a punch on one that was coming for me. The second van of hostages was brimming with horrified screams, both my and Walker’s attention being redirected to them. Karli, who stood a few feet away from us, made a run for the humvee and Walker and I chased after her. Walker braced himself with the shield and the two of them came face to face with one another. Giving another insignificant try, I sent a stream of energy towards the lock in an attempt to break it but couldn’t without Bucky’s brute strength. Behind me, I could hear the grunts and groans of Walker and Karli moving around as they fought one another. When the noises got too distant to still be close by, I knew I needed to go back Walker up.

I looked through the everything-proof glass window to the terrified faces of the senators. “We’ll get you out, I promise,” I yelled, taking off towards the fight.

Karli came running out from where they’d disappeared behind, I sent another blast her way that she dodged. She leapt into the air with a cry and raised a fist, I threw up a force field that she bounced off of and rolled to the ground. “This isn’t change, Karli,” I spoke up over the noise of the fire, “It’s murder.” The only response I got was another yell, Karli came charging towards me forcing me to throw up another shield to deflect her punches and kicks. I didn’t want to hurt her, I didn’t even want to fight her. It was different than with Walker where there was a mutual disliking of one another since almost the very beginning, she was just a kid looking to fight anyone who got in her way. Her cause was even something I agreed with, but I couldn’t stand by her taking innocent lives in the process.

Karli caught my exposed neck, gripping my neck tightly and holding me in the air. The bruises from Walker’s assault hadn’t fully healed and Karli was squeezing far tighter than he had. Thinking quickly, I swung my legs around to the back of her knees and forced my energy out of my feet as I slammed into her legs. The two of us fell in a heap, Karli on top of me with her grip loose enough on my throat that I could get out of it and flip her over. I pinned her hands to the asphalt on either side of her head using my energy, “You can stop all of this right now,” I urged over her furious cries, “Karli, please.”

Karli snarled at me before moving her knees to hit me in my back, throwing me off balance and giving her the perfect opportunity to launch me down the same hole Bucky had fallen down. I caught myself mid air and looked down to see Bucky and one of the Flag Smashers fighting with a metal beam, Bucky gaining the upper hand. I dropped to the ground and ran to him as he landed a final strike against the man, knocking him to the ground. As my hand reached out for his arm, there was a violent crash above us. We looked up to see that the humvee filled with the hostages had been driven off the road and was balancing on top of the construction. It teetered on the edge, ready to slip at any moment and finish Karli’s plan. I extended my energy to steady the vehicle, I wasn’t sure what made me think I could keep a couple thousand pound vehicle suspended in midair but the fact that I’d never used my powers like this didn’t matter. I had to try. As it rocked back and forth against my energy, I took a stance and dug my heels in the ground, sending up the steady streams I’d recently discovered I could produce. They curved around the front of the vehicle, protecting it from falling any further. The screams of terror from the hostages were my motivation to keep going, to do everything in my power that I could do save who I could.

After a few seconds of bearing my teeth and groaning in struggle, the load lessened slightly. I opened one of my eyes that had been squeezed shut in concentration to see Walker’s homemade shield near my feet, the decommissioned captain above me pulling the truck from the back. For once, we were working as a cohesive unit. Who would have thought…

All was short lived though as the second we were making progress on getting the humvee away from the edge, Karli and two other Flag Smashers jumped Walker and attacked him. Unable to hold them off, they toppled over and fell into the pit alongside Bucky and I. I cried out as the full weight of the humvee became mine to bear once again, fighting harder than ever to keep it from falling. Every muscle in my body clenched as I kept the streams flowing while also slowly rising off the ground, wondering if it was possible for my body to run out of energy with how much I was throwing into my stand. I had to save them, so long as I was able to fight, I wouldn’t allow any more innocent bloodshed. My hands shook, causing my streams to shake and I groaned as my body sent every signal that it couldn’t continue on.

As I started to falter, I felt something come up beside me and some of the heaviness was taken away. Looking to my left, Sam was in the air bracing the weight of the truck alongside me. I felt renewed with his help to rise with him as we used our combined strength to steadily raise the humvee back onto the beams of the construction site. Once it was secured, Sam and I both landed on either side of the truck and faced the crowd. I made the easy decision to fly back down into the pit, the moment belonged to Sam and no one else. Bucky was at my side at once, his hands on my arms and a careful set of eyes watching to make sure I was okay. I rested my forehead on his shoulder for a too brief second and nodded through my heavy breathing.

From in front of us, Karli launched a spear towards Bucky’s head that he easily got throwing it to the side as he stared her down. Sam’s shield came flying out of nowhere, hitting Karli and rebounding off of the other Flag Smasher before landing back on Sam’s wrist. Karli shed her mask, looking at him with disgust and shock. “You of all people bought into that bullshit?” she asked, examining his patriotic suit from a distance.

“I’m trying something different,” Sam answered, his voice steely, “Maybe you should do the same.”

A sudden explosion was set off, a grenade landing at our feet setting off smoke that blinded us. I quickly covered Sam, Walker, Bucky and myself in a large force field, as my eyes tried to make out Karli’s figure. “This way,” Sam directed, using the tech in his goggles to spot them. I dropped the shield and followed him, the only person I could make out semi-clearly in the haze. We ran down and through a nearby tunnel, weaving down underground hallways in search of the remainders of the group. “Hey Sharon,” Bucky said into his comm, “We’re underground. We entered the tunnel on William. Heading south.”

“Looks like they split up,” Sam announced, he pointed down a corridor, “Here.” Walker took off without a second thought, while Bucky paused in front of Sam and I. “I got it,” he pointed to my brother, brushing his fingers against mine before heading down the hall. Sam and I both watched them leave, my anxiety rising with each step Bucky took away from me. Shaking myself out of the spiral I knew I’d go down if I gave it any more thought, I followed Sam’s lead as we continued on our way. The sound of the Flag Smasher’s signature whistle echoed off the walls causing Sam and I to freeze, he determined where it may have come from and motioned for me to come forward.

“If something happens, you get the hell out of here, got it?” Sam whispered. “Nice try,” I replied, having flashbacks to the various times in the past week or so that we’d had conversations like this, “I’m not leaving you.” Suddenly, two shots were fired nearby. Sam and I bolted in the general direction that the sound had come from, fear flooding my body at the thought of Bucky being on the receiving end of one of the bullets. The worry caused me to run faster. We made it into a wider room, Karli standing in the middle with a gun aimed at a helpless Sharon, laying on the ground with a hand over her abdomen. I spotted the blood staining her shirt and threw a force field around her as Sam clipped his shield to his back. “Sam, stay back,” Karli warned, her eyes flicking to him briefly before landing back on Sharon.

“So, what’s next, huh?” Sam asked, taking careful steps toward her, “You kill ten this time, then, what, a hundred? Where does it end? Please,” he lowered his tone, “Let me help you.” “Don’t try and manipulate me,” Karli replied, looking between the blue barrier I shielded Sharon with and me. She twisted her body to aimed her gun at me, my resolve to protect Sharon stronger than protecting myself.

“Karli, don’t!” Sharon cried.

Sam dove forward and tackled the girl to the floor, somersaulting away from her as Karli raised a piece of cinderblock. She launched it at Sam who deflected the makeshift weapon with his shield. Karli swung at him and Sam jumped on top of a small staircase, his shield in front of him at all times. “I’m not gonna fight you!” he yelled, leaping off the stairs.

Karli continued her attack, Sam dug the tips of his wings into the concrete and met her fist with the shield. “Karli…” he urged just before she ripped the shield away and walked him backwards, Sam completing a series of jumps and flips. Karli grabbed a metal pipe and swung it at Sam, knocking him to the ground. “Stay down!” she growled.

Every instinct I had told me to go after the person who was endangering Sam’s life, anybody’s would be. But I knew that it was pointless to fight her, it was only giving her what she wanted. The serum enhanced people’s personalities, Karli had always been a fighter but now, she was looking to fight anything and anyone and would do it ruthlessly. I couldn’t buy into it.

I retracted the shield I’d built around Sharon and flew around Karli, placing myself between her and Sam. “Karli, the fight is over,” I breathed.

“No!” she shrieked, barely giving me enough time to throw up an energy shield before she threw a punch. Her fist bouncing off of it only angered her more and she began a relentless attack, banging her hands against the force field, taking swipes anywhere she could. I levitated over her head and landed a few feet away, luring her away from Sam. Karli was furious at the fact that she couldn’t touch me or get me to try and battle her. It didn’t take long for Sam to spring to his feet, throwing his shield out in between Karli and I. Karli focused her efforts on Sam then, punching the shield relentlessly as Sam walked her away from me. “Fight back!” she screamed in my brother’s face.

I extended my energy and pulled her away from Sam, throwing her a few feet away from us. Karli let out a battle cry and leapt forward, Sam and I coming side by side and holding up our respective shields. Karli’s fist rebounded off of my energy and spun around to hit Sam’s shield, he then grabbed her by the waist and turned on his thrusters, flying them across to room to slam Karli into a beam. “Stop it,” he ordered, gripping her by the lapels of her jacket. Karli replied by throwing him above her head into the ceiling, I used my energy to yank her away from Sam and in front of me.

“Listen to me, Karli,” I urged, earning a super-soldier shiner to my cheek, “We’re not your enemies.” Karli dropped me to the ground like I weighed nothing, the vibranium suit creating a dent in the flooring. I let out a groan at the shock and she ran off to deal with Sam. “Fight me!” she screamed as she clawed at the shield, “Fight back!” She flipped him over.

He fell.

The shield fell out of his reach.

Karli picked up the gun and aimed it at Sam.

He rose, accepting his fate.

Gathering the strength I had left, I got to my feet.

With trembling hands, knowing what I was about to do, I levitated and landed in front of Sam.

Karli’s face shifted, though I couldn’t read it as my emotions overwhelmed me.

A supercut ran through my mind.

Sam.

Sarah.

AJ and Cass.

Mel.

My mom.

My father.

A legacy rewritten.

Bucky.

Would he forgive me for what I was about to do? I hoped so.

“Go ahead,” I whispered, staring Karli down and blinking away the tears before she could see them, “Do it.” Karli’s face scrunched up as her finger prepared to pull the trigger when suddenly, three gunshots went off from nearby, hitting her. The gun fell to the ground and so did she. My eyes flew to where the bullets had come from, the sight of Sharon holding the smoking gun awaiting me. Sam dropped to his knees to cradle Karli’s head, the young girl staring up at him wide eyed and afraid. I knelt down on the other side of her, slipping her still warm hand into mine and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, staring up at Sam before looking to me. The only thought that ran through my mind was she’s just a girl, she’s just a girl…As I watched the tears well in her eyes before the life drained from them and they shut, the sudden innocence overwhelmed me. She was just a girl…

I didn’t let go of her hand even when it went limp, holding it to my heart as I wept over her. Sam cradled her cheek as we sat quietly, the only sounds were my soft sobs and Sharon’s labored breathing. I couldn’t face her right now, my feelings were too mixed about the way she had saved my life.

Eventually, once an undetermined amount of minutes had passed, Sam lifted Karli into his arms and the two of us rose to leave. When I turned to tell Sharon to come with us, she was already gone, probably having slipped out a back hallway. Sam carried Karli’s body the entire way out of the building, I hardly registered when we made it outside in the night air.

“I’ll clear the way for you,” I mumbled, extending my energy and shooting into the air, Sam not far behind me. The wind blowing against my dried my tears off of my cheeks as I flew toward the glow of ambulance lights outside the building we’d started the night at. There were crowds of news crews, there were the senators we’d saved and officers cleaning up the wreckage that had been left behind. They all noticed as I flew up, landing in the midst of it all and scanning the crowd for Bucky. Once I spotted him and Walker towards the very back near the ambulances, I ignored the reporters asking me questions as I weaved through the chaos. Bucky strode forward as I neared and wrapped me in his arms, I let go of the breath I’d been holding in my chest as soon as our bodies met. He was okay. My hands held the back of his neck as I dug my face into his shoulder. He tapped my waist and I turned to see Sam flying in, resembling the an angel with his outstretched wings as he landed. He carefully passed off Karli’s body to the paramedics who placed the girl on a stretcher, carrying her off to who knows where.

Sam walked towards the crowd, doing the same as me and ignoring the reporters flooding him with unimportant questions. He had flown in carrying the dead body of a kid and here they were, asking him if they should refer to him as Captain Falcon. He stopped in front of the senators who were busy thanking him for dealing with what I heard one refer to as ‘terrorists.’

“Are you still going forward with resetting the borders?” Sam asked.

They answered, and while I couldn’t hear their words, I could read Sam’s face well enough to know it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“You have to stop calling them terrorists…” “What else would we call them?” one of the senators asked. “Your peacekeeping troops carrying weapons are forcing millions of people into settlements around the word, right?” Sam continued, “What do you think those people are going to call you? These labels, terrorists, refugees, thug. They’re often used to get around the question ‘why.’

“Those settlements that happened five years ago, do you think it is fair for governments to have to support them?” another senator asked. “Yes,” Sam said plainly.

“And the people who reappeared only to find someone else living in their family home, they just end up homeless?” the bearded senator pushed back, “Look, I get it. But you have no idea how complicated this situation is.”

Just as he prepared to walk away, Sam spoke up. “You know what, you’re right, and that’s a good thing. We finally have a common struggle now. Think about that. For once, all the people who’ve been begging and, I mean, literally begging for you to feel how hard any given day is, now you know. How did it feel to be helpless? Now if you can remember what it was like to be helpless and face a force so powerful, it could erase half the planet. You would know that you were about to have the exact same impact. This isn’t about easy decisions. Senator.”

“You just don’t understand,” the senator replied, probably the most ignorant response I’d ever heard.

Sam scoffed, “I’m a black man, carrying the stars and strips. What don’t I understand? Every time I pick this thing up, I know there are millions of people out there who are going to hate me for it. Even now, here. I feel it. The stares, the judgment, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. Yet I’m still here. No super serum. No blonde hair or blue eyes. The only power I have is that I believe we can do better.”

Holding onto Bucky a little tighter, the tears that I shed had morphed to those of joy. There my brother stood, in front of the government and the entire country saying what we all needed to hear. He spoke without reserve, unapologetic in his stance, and I had never been prouder of him.

“We can’t demand that people step up if we don’t meet them halfway,” Sam’s voice rose with passion, “Look, you control the banks. Shit, You can move borders. You can knock down a forest with an email. You can feed a million people with a phone call. But the question is, who’s in the room with you when you’re making those decisions? Hmm? Is it the people you’re gonna impact? Or is it just more people like you?” he paused, collecting himself before gesturing to where Karli’s body lay in the ambulance, “I mean, this girl died trying to stop you. And no one has stopped for one second to ask why. You’ve got to do better, Senator, you’ve got to step up because if you don’t, the next Karli will. And you don’t want to see 2.0. People believed in her cause so much that they helped her defy the strongest governments in the world. Why do you think that is? Look, you people have just as much power as an insane god,” Sam’s voice broke for only a second, “Or a misguided teenager. The question you have to ask yourself is how are you going to use it?”

With that, he walked away from the crowd that had been watching him so intently and made his way towards us. He stopped in front of Walker, the two of them sharing a look before nodding to one another, a non-verbal truce being declared. Walker also turned to me, in the end he had stepped up and done the right thing, but I knew that the two of us would never be on good terms. I’d never forget his tightening grip around my throat, nor would he forget that I wasn’t afraid of him and would tear him apart if he ever tried anything like he had in the warehouse again. But I had saved the guy’s life and because of that, his stare softened for only a second as he nodded his thanks to me. I watched as he disappeared into the crowd, off to whatever his next mission may be…

“Sorry, I was, uh, I was texting and so, all I heard was, um, “a black guy in stars and stripes,” Bucky broke the tension of the moment as Sam approached us.

The three of us shared a chuckle before Sam and I locked eyes, not having spoken a word yet about what had happened underground. I threw my arms around his neck as he wrapped his around my shoulders, sharing probably the best hug we’d ever had. Our shared goal of keeping one another alive had been achieved. “Love you,” I whispered in his ear. “Love you too,” he replied, a hint of emotion choking him up. He squeezed a little tighter before releasing me, the three of us walking off together.

“Nice job, Cap,” Bucky said, patting Sam’s back that displayed the shield before sliding his hand back around my waist. A few feet away, hidden behind one of the ambulances and leaned up against the car was a familiar blonde figure.

“Sharon?” Sam called.

“Blocking my light,” she retorted, holding a gauze pad to the gunshot wound on her abdomen. “We need to get you to a hospital,” I strode forward, examining her injury as best I could.

“She’s not gonna listen,” Bucky grumbled as he looked over his shoulder to make sure nobody was following us. Sharon panted as she shrugged, “Hey, it’s not the worst thing that’s happened to me all week.”

“Told you…” Bucky said at my side. “Yeah, I don’t care,” I shook my head, “We’re take care of this.” “Uh, Cap?” an interruption came, the senator that had been on the receiving end of most of Sam’s impassioned speech. “I think he’s talking to you,” Sharon said before turning to both Sam and I, “Look, I’m sorry for how things ended down there. For what it’s worth,” she looked Sam up and down and genuinely smiled, “Suit looks good on you.”

Sam chuckled, “Thanks.”

Bucky nodded along, humoring the conversation for as long as he could. “All right, look, can we get out of here, please?” he asked, placing a hand on Sharon’s back to urge her forward. Giving up, she allowed him to lead her away.

“I didn’t forget my promise,” Sam called to Sharon, referring to the pardon I hoped he could secure for her.

I turned to my brother, “Meet you back home?”

He gave a long sigh, his eyes flitting between Bucky’s departing figure and me, “Why don’t you stay here a couple days?” I knew what he was offering and how hard it was for him to say the words, he was trying to give me time with Bucky. I did my best to conceal my smile, “Are you sure?” “You risked your life all week, you almost died trying to protect us,” he stated with a scoff, “I think you deserve a little time off. Now go,” he looked back to Bucky and scrunched his face up a little, “Before I change my mind.” Unable to hide my grin any longer, I reached out and clasped hands with him, bringing each other in for another hug. ��Go get ‘em, Cap.”

The two of us let each other go, off to tend to our business before eventually reuniting back in the house we’d grown up in. It was crazy to think that I owed almost every great thing in my life to the boy who’d sat next to the lonely girl in first grade. Now here we were, dressed in Vibranium off saving the world, or at least doing what we could to make it a better one.

——

“Superhero, nurse…you’re full of surprises, Y/l/n,” Sharon commented before sucking in a sharp breath as I placed another suture.

I laughed softly, concentrating on my work, “I took a first aid class a couple years ago. When you’re living with two boys, trust me, it comes in handy a little too often. But I’ve never had to remove a bullet.” We were seated on the floor of Bucky’s Brooklyn apartment with me tending to Sharon’s wound using his first aid kit. Bucky was waiting in his bedroom to give us privacy, Sharon had her shirt pulled up and her pants unbuttoned to give me full access to her stomach. I’d had to place sutures once when Sarah had accidentally sliced her finger open with a knife, pulling out a lodged bullet was entirely new to me.

“I saw you tonight, with the truck,” she said as she watched me work, “You did good.”

I supposed now that I had shown my powers to the world, I’d have to get used to people paying me compliments but for now, I still didn’t know how to take them. “So are you gonna stick with it? The hero thing?” Sharon asked.

I tied another suture, closing the sterilized hole in her abdomen. “I think so. Captain America needs a right hand man, why not have it be his sister?” Sharon hummed in agreement, a beat of silence passing. “You don’t think you’ll strike out on your own? You seem a little too independent to follow orders.” “Yeah, well,” I started working on the last stitch, “Sam and I work better together than I would with anyone else. Maybe one day I’ll do my own thing but for now, I’m fine where I’m at.” “Well, I guess you’re finally in a position to do all that good you said you wanted to,” she sighed, “Just don’t forget to keep your eyes open, opportunity’s everywhere.” “Alright, Miss Madripoor,” I chuckled, sterilizing the wound one more time with an alcohol wipe, “Your hustler side is showing.”

Sharon shrugged and gave a little smirk, “All I’m saying is there’s a lot of ways to effect change, but I’m sure you’ll find that out.” Storing her advice away in my head for a later time, I placed a gauze pad on her abdomen and secured it. “Alright, you should be good. Just promise me that you’ll actually get checked by an actual doctor or whatever you have in High Town?” “Sure thing, Doc,” she replied with a smile as she adjusted her clothes again and rose to her feet, “You’re good, Barnes!” Bucky stepped back out into the room, peering around the corner carefully before entering fully. Despite the fact that he was in his own apartment, he still hadn’t changed out of what he’d worn to the fight. “What happens now?” I asked, looking to Sharon, “Hotel? Hidden apartment in some dodgy part of the city?” Sharon chortled at my suggestions, “I’ve got a plane waiting to take me back to Madripoor. The longer I stay here, the more of a chance they’ll find me,” she gave a small smile, “It was good seeing you guys again.” “It won’t be the last,” I confirmed, placing a hand on her shoulder, “Sam’ll get that pardon, you’ll be back before you know it.” “That’d be nice,” she sighed longingly, clearly thinking about all the freedom that would come with coming back home. Coming back to the conversation, she patted my arm and regained her full voice, “But until then, keep them in check. God knows they need it.” “The hell does that mean?” Bucky grumbled from his position outside his bedroom, leaving Sharon and I to share a laugh before she walked to the front door. “I’ll do my best, and hey, thank you for what you did for me...” I called out just before she shot us one last knowing smile and left, the door shutting behind her. While I wanted to worry about her walking the streets of New York and possibly getting caught, I’d seen enough of her in action to know that she could handle whatever came her way.

Bucky slowly made his way to the door, locking it and turning around to face me. It was the first time of the night we’d been completely alone. Our eyes met, tired and traumatized but still alert and seeking one another out. Bucky crossed the room in a few long strides, taking his time in approaching me as if he was savoring the moment. I reached out once he was close enough and interlocked my hand with his, tugging him close to me. He dragged two featherlight fingers over the nasty bruise that Karli had given me, his brow furrowing as he examined the side of my face. I ran my thumb over the long red bruise across the side of his forehead, the pressure increasing when he leaned into my touch.

The night could have ended so differently. If Karli had pulled the trigger, if Bucky hadn’t fought on such high alert, we could have ended in tragedy. Such thoughts were better buried away and not thought of, but I couldn’t help it. Lucky, blessed, whatever word you wanted to use…we were it. With no battles on the horizon to fight, we could focus on figuring out just what spark there was between us.

No words needed to be spoken, not for now at least. Tonight, all I needed was to hold Bucky in my arms and remember that despite every odd and every trouble thrown our way, we were alive. And as he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine in a tender but still passionate kiss, I had never felt more alive.

----

A/N: Oh, but we’re not done yet...We still have some time off and a cookout to attend 😉 I really can’t thank you all enough for sticking with this series the past few weeks, it means the world to me that I’ve been able to bring a little joy to people’s days. Let me know what you thought and if you’d like to be tagged for the LAST CHAPTER.

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale @wanniiieeee @asoftie4bucky @edencherries @i-reblog-fics-i-like @ttalisa @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess @rinaispunk @weirdowithnobeardo @felicityofbakerstreet @godlyhufflepuff @eternalharry @voguesir @mizz-kraziii @okayline @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories @nicklet94 @intricate-melody @aesthethickks @stumbleonmywords @simplybarnes @21bruhs @lostinwonderland314 @superbookishhufflepuff @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @zozebo @fandomxreaders @kittengirl998 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @i-know-i-can @x-judyjude-x @thebi-valkyrieofvalhalla @buckverse @living-that-best-life @haphazardhufflepuff @citlalireedus @lindseyrae20 @missstef23 @qhbr2013 @sebby-stann @bluemoon-icecream @iixbella @lets-love-little-me @abitofeverythinggg @itsnottilly @sltwins @mads-weasley @hart-failure @natdrunk @nctma15 @obsessedwithjustaboutanything @patdsinner33

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x platonic!reader #marvel imagine

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potatoes-is-are-food · 3 years

Text

Made For Each Other [Part 1]

~4500 words (I may have gone a little overboard I just really love poly erasermic)

Yandere erasermic x reader / soulmate au

| NSFW warnings: noncon, threesome, vague threats of violence

I’m gonna be putting this into parts (I’m thinking around 3?)

The first few weeks had been especially bad. Waking up with a chain connecting you to the floor in a bed that wasn’t yours in clothes that weren’t yours had been terrifying. You’d been scared of your captor, Shota Aizawa, to the point of tears at first, but now you were sitting on a barstool in his kitchen watching him make dinner.

“Hizashi is coming back tomorrow. You’ll have to get used to him being around, too,” he said, capturing your attention away from the book he’d given you, “He’s loud and excited to see you, but I’ll try to keep him calm.” You nodded when he looked at you, turning back to adjust something on the stove. You weren’t allowed all the way in the kitchen yet, but he said if you behaved you’d be able to soon.

“Wait, Present Mic? Why is he coming here?” You asked when he didn’t elaborate.

“He’s my husband,” he answered flatly. You furrowed your brow, but didn’t question it out of politeness. You nearly laughed at yourself aloud, worrying about being polite to someone who literally kidnapped you.

It had been on your way home from work. You got off the train at your usual station but much later than usual, having to stay late that day. Walking home didn’t seem too dangerous since you lived in a safe area, but that had been a terrible decision. Before you could process what was happening someone had come up behind you, dragged you into an alley while you kicked and attempted to scream, and been shoved to the pavement.

You’d taken some hard hits from your assailant when Eraserhead saved you, tying the guy who attacked you to the dumpster and scooping you up just as you lost consciousness. The newspaper you’d seen the other day said you were missing and there were no leads. There was a separate article about how a vigilante had tied some petty criminal to a dumpster but he still died from his injuries. How convenient.

Realizing you’d been staring at the same page for several minutes, you sighed and closed your book. You set it on the counter and leaned back, boredly swinging your legs and listening to the music Shota had put on. You didn’t recognize it, but every now and then he would hum along for a second.

He set a plate in front of you and handed you a glass of water, watching you carry both to the couch and taking his own to join you. It had become a routine in the last week that you’d both sit on the couch together and he’d put on something to watch while you ate. It was an unspoken agreement that you’d talk to him if he wanted and he wouldn’t touch you or stare you down.

You glanced at him, settling into the cushions and trying to relax. He still made you nervous, but he hadn’t done anything to hurt you, just threatened to chain you up again if you tried to get away, which you hadn’t. He scared you way too much to try before you knew you could get away with absolute certainty.

He settled on some sit-com you knew he didn’t care about, signaling he’d want to talk today. You moved your food around with a spoon (he wasn’t allowing forks or knives yet but also used a spoon in solidarity), waiting for him to say something. He didn’t.

“It’s good,” you said softly, fidgeting a bit awkwardly. His intimidating presence chilled you, making you want to subdue anger he probably didn’t even have. You quickly added, “Thank you.” He grunted in response, shuffling slightly closer to you.

“Y/n, eat all of that and drink all your water. I’ve been lenient until now but you’re going to have to eat more and stay hydrated now. You’re going to have rules now,” he said sternly, sliding your glass a little closer to you. Obediently you took a sip and another bite of your food, letting him continue as you chewed,

“You’re sleeping in my bed from now on,” he took a sip of his drink nonchalantly as you looked away, feeling blood rush into your face. The most he’d touched you was to pat your head a few days ago and that had made you jump. He continued, unaffected by your flustered disposition,

“I wanted to give you more time first so I won’t get mad if you slip up, but ‘Zashi coming home sooner than planned changes things,” he explained softly, bringing his hand up to stroke your hair. Your breathing sped up and you resisted the urge to get up and run.

“Why…” you breathed, finally looking at him with tear-filled eyes. One spilled down your cheek and his finger gently caught it, wiping it away.

“You can’t see it, but I’ve got a red string on my wrist attached to you and Hizashi. And he had our names on his arm. Didn’t you notice yours before now?” He arched a brow at you, watching as your eyes widened almost comically.

“I…” you thought back to when you first could see colors. You’d been young, only 12 when you’d been saved by Present Mic, but in all the chaos of the villain attack you couldn’t tell who was the cause and you were too young for it to matter. Your second mark was on the back of your neck, a timer counting down to when you’d meet your other soulmate. Since you couldn’t see it and had been preoccupied the past several weeks, you’d forgotten how close it was to hitting zero.

“We’re all made for each other, kitten,” his face had been slowly approaching yours as you’d had your epiphany, now centimeters away. More tears fell down your face, too shocked to move as he kissed them away. You couldn’t deny the pull you felt toward him, unconsciously leaning into his touch. He placed another kiss to the very edge of your lips and a final one to your forehead before leaning back, taking the plate you were very close to dropping and setting it on the coffee table.

“B-but then why-” your voice trembled and caught in your throat. You choked back a sob, clenching your hands in your lap. You felt sick, the dinner your soulmate had made threatening to come back up. Your head felt fuzzy, like you’d been drinking.

“We had to, sweetheart,” he cooed, wrapping an arm gently around your tense form, “you thought it was a good idea to walk home alone at night, your job was stressing you out, and you wrecked your car not too long ago. You need us to take care of you and getting attacked was the perfect opportunity,” he pushed some of your hair out of your face.

You crumbled, sobbing and letting him hold you, so desperate for comfort that you actually clung to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and crying into his neck. You couldn’t see it, of course, but he was smiling as he swiped his fingers soothingly along the timer on the back of your neck that would be at 00:00 forever.

When you calmed down he handed you your water, rubbing your back as you finished it and leaving you on the couch to take the dishes away. You sniffled and let him pick you up, carrying you into the bathroom and getting ready for bed together in a daze. You even let him change your clothes, settling into bed pliantly as you figured out that he probably put sedatives in the food.

The next morning you woke to Shota’s warmth pressed against your back, an arm slung around your waist. You sat up, nearly falling over again groggily. You turned to look at him and saw his eyes open, locking onto you instantly.

“Hey there,” he husked, his morning voice catching you off guard. You pursed your lips, scooting away from him slightly,

“Did you drug me, Aizawa?” You crossed your arms, moving to sit on top of the covers and create some distance. He groaned softly, sitting up,

“Don’t call me Aizawa.” His reminder made your face heat up. He’d let you get by with awkward “hey”s and tapping his shoulder, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t be doing that anymore.

“Did you?” You press, voice a little softer in an attempt to accommodate him. He blinked at you, waiting. You relented, “...Shota?” His expression softened.

“I couldn’t have you running off. Besides, you needed a good night’s sleep. I know you’ve been tossing and turning,” he shrugged, stretching and standing up. You took his hand when he extended it to you, still a little “softened” by whatever he’d dosed you with.

He lead you into the bathroom he’d been having you use, completely idiot-proofed with no way to hurt yourself or anyone else or an escape route. And with all that he still made you keep the door open, doing stuff on his phone while you did whatever you had to do. You saw him pull up a messaging app as you entered, running the shower and stripping, shyly glancing at him often to reassure yourself he wasn’t watching.

When you got out he gave you something new to wear, an actual dress instead of one of their shirts. You didn’t question where he’d gotten it, simply thanking him quietly and putting it on when he turned around to give you the illusion of privacy. He hadn’t given you anything to wear under it, though.

“Um, Shota?” You called, looking everywhere but directly at him. He turned around, looking you over and giving your head a pat. You shuffled your bare feet awkwardly, “Can I have something to wear under it?” His hand rested on your waist lightly, eyes roaming your figure leisurely.

“I’ll have to go out and buy you some. Hizashi bought this a while ago when we figured out your identity,” he smiled, probably recalling a fond memory with his husband. Your other soulmate. You really didn’t want to admit it, but it felt nice that someone had been so excited to meet you that they’d gotten you a gift.

He made breakfast, insisting for the first time that you sit on his lap to eat. The day was mostly uneventful, you read and Shota let you make tea while he supervised. By six you were sitting at the bar in front of the kitchen, watching him chop vegetables.

You almost jumped out of your skin when you heard the door open, Shota eyeing you to make sure you wouldn’t try to run.

“Babe?” You heard Hizashi call, recognizing his voice easily from all the times you’d listened to him since you’d been there and even before.

“In here,” Shota called back, still tending to dinner. You looked at him for direction but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care to give it. Footsteps sounded behind you and you spun in your stool, facing your other soulmate for the first time since he’d saved you as a child. He dropped his bags, keys, and a water bottle he’d been holding, jaw dropping as he stared at you.

“Sho you didn’t,” he breathed, and for the briefest of moments you thought he’d be against this and rescue you again, but that was not the case.

“Happy anniversary,” Shota appeared, pulling the blonde in for a kiss. Hizashi tore his eyes from you and cupped the other man’s face as he repeated the expression. They really looked in love.

“She’s even more beautiful in person!” He beamed, closing the distance between you so fast if you’d blinked it would have seemed like he teleported. He immediately pressed his lips to yours, holding you tightly as you weakly struggled, tugging his sleeves and making muffled protests against his mouth.

“’Zashi, calm down, I haven’t trained her and I’ve barely touched her,” Shota placed a hand on his shoulder and he pulled away, leaving you panting and slightly panicked in his grasp.

“Aw, come on, Sho,” he whined, continuing to hold you against him, “She seems like a good girl she probably barely needs any training,” his hand stroked your hair and he pressed his cheek against the top of your head. You gave Shota a wide eyed look,

“Trained?” You asked nervously, squirming a little in Hizashi’s arms. Shota’s tired expression morphed into something more devious, the corner of his lips twitching up,

“We need to be sure you’re not gonna run off on us, kitty,” he cooed, “We need to…” he paused, searching for the right word, “house train you, so to speak.” His tone made you nervous, shrinking into the arms holding you.

Shota pecked your cheek and returned to the stove, giving the food a stir and asking about Hizashi’s trip so casually you’d think he hadn’t just implied something sinister. Hizashi picked you up, sitting in your stool and pulling you into his lap as he chatted with his husband. You fiddled with the hem of your dress and vaguely wondered if they intended on getting a special license to add you into the marriage as they did for people with multiple soulmates. You really hoped things wouldn’t get that far.

A hand trailed along your thigh, massaging the soft flesh and making your dress ride up a bit. You shifted, pressing your knees tightly together and making sure it didn’t go too high as another settled on your waist, gently rubbing up and down, dangerously close to your breast. You were suddenly very aware of your lack of underwear, nipples pebbling and sticking out against the fabric. You shuddered.

“I picked this out for you, doll,” he said quietly, breath tickling your ear before he stooped and planted several light kisses on your neck, “Do you like it?” You writhed slightly, but stopped immediately when you heard his breath hitch and felt something stir under you.

“Please…” you whispered, trying to plead with him the way you had Shota, whose head snapped around to send you a look that had tears instantly welling in your eyes.

“Y’n,” he said, staring you down. You sniffled, brows knitting together as you fought a sob.

“It’s fine, Sho,” Hizashi said calmly, stroking your shoulder and kissing the top of your head, “sweet little girl just needs some guidance, isn’t that right?” his voice dripped condescension and he pinched your cheeks, chuckling lightly as his had whetted with tears.

Shota sighed, “Tell ‘Zashi you liked the dress,” he started plating the food, leaving Hizashi to comfort you. He seemed to enjoy the task, wiping your face and kissing your temple. You told him you liked the dress.

You let him dote on you, clamming up when his hands wandered to uninvited places. You were seated in his lap again in the dining room as you all ate, the two men making light conversation and Shota telling his husband how he’d kidnapped you and your progress from terrified mute to scared yet willing to seek comfort from your captors.

“She’s done well, overall. I think once we solidify things it’ll go even faster. We could probably start making wedding preparations by October,” Shota discussed you casually, like he was telling Hizashi about the weather. Like you weren’t there.

“Wedding...preparations?” You asked nervously, picking at your food with a fork for the first time since you’d been stripped of freedom.

“Of course,” he continued, giving you a slight smile, “you’re our soulmate.” They discussed plans to get you more clothes, making you tense as taking your measurements was discussed. When you finished dinner, Shota cleared the table and tended to the dishes, leaving you alone with Hizashi for some bonding time.

“And if you want, we could do a destination honeymoon,” he rambled, ignoring your borderline catatonic state as you stared off into space, sinking further and further into a mental space you didn’t understand. Wedding? Honeymoon? How long would it be before you’d be able to escape?

“You’re gonna overwhelm her,” Shota’s soothing voice came from behind. He patted your head when you turned to look at him, taking note of the way your eyes looked a little glossier than usual, “Come on, we should head to bed. You must be tired.”

Hizashi grabbed his bags, following as Shota took your hand and lead you back into the bedroom. You sat on the bed, yawning as you realized constantly being made to go to bed so early had you tired already. You expected them to toss you another big t shirt and a pair of sweats too tall for you, but instead Shota pulled you up so you were standing in front of them.

“Are we going to bed?” You eyed the dresser, unsure if they wanted you to choose or something. Hizashi snorted, working the buttons of his shirt open as Shota turned you around to unzip the back of your dress. He ran his hand down the bare skin of your back, sliding the fabric forward off your shoulders.

Your hands shot up, pinning the covering to your chest as your breathing sped up,

“Shota?” you looked back at him over your shoulder as he rubbed along your skin. He didn’t answer, pressing his lips to your shoulder and gently coaxing the dress down until it bunched around your ankles on the floor. Your lip trembled as you tried to cover yourself with your hands, arms crossing your chest.

“So pretty,” he murmured against your shoulder, sliding his hands up your sides and gently tugging at your arms. Tears spilled onto your cheeks as Hizashi joined, stripped to his boxer briefs, dropping to his knees in front of you. He kissed the center of your chest just below your breasts, hands settling on your hips. You shook your head,

“Please don’t,” you whimpered, “d-don’t look,” you crossed your legs, arms locked against your chest as Shota rubbed them, attempting to get you to drop them yourself.

“But you’re so beautiful, angel,” Hizashi spoke softly, trailing kisses down your stomach while Shota wiped your tears away and pulled you gently into a kiss. It was the first time you’d kissed him properly, and the sense of fulfillment that settled into your chest made you both gasp against each other, making you melt a little.

Hizashi’s lips trailed along your hips, not wanting to distract you from kissing Shota. When your mouths parted you felt warm, nearly sinking into his adoring gaze before remembering how he’d kept you chained, cold and alone as you screamed and cried in that room. He must have sensed your conflict, kissing you again before trailing down your neck and giving Hizashi’s jaw a little tap.

Lips departed your hips as the blonde stood, leaning down to kiss both your tear-stained cheeks and then your lips, the jolt from him significantly less intense thanks to him pouncing on you earlier. It still felt good, though, as much as you hated to admit it. His hands cupped your face and without thinking you placed yours over them. You felt Shota move lower, caressing your hips and kissing along your back, lingering where it dipped at your waist.

You squeaked, flinching away from Hizashi as you felt Shota’s hands kneading your ass, spreading and squeezing your cheeks. Your arms wrapped around Hizashi’s neck as you tried to wriggle out of the other man’s grasp. He chuckled, holding your hips still for his partner rather than helping. You whined, burying your face in his neck as fresh tears fell onto his skin. He rubbed a hand soothingly along your back as Shota continued, kissing and then biting the flesh.

You sniffled, breathing shakily and hard into Hizashi’s neck, fingers tangling in his loose hair. He shushed you like a child, hugging you close and nearly groaning at your breasts being pressed flush against his chest.

“Maybe we should’ve given her wine at dinner, Sho,” he said softly, brows furrowed as you sobbed softly on him, “She’s nervous, aren’t you love?” Gently, he pried your arms from around him, leaning back to look at you.

“She’ll be fine, taking both of us so close together will probably help a lot,” Shota stood, sweeping your legs and making you fall into his arms. He deposited you onto the bed, licking his lips and kissing you heatedly, lapping at the inside of your mouth. You groaned against him, holding onto his shoulders in an attempt to ground yourself.

Hizashi tugged at Shota’s shirt, making him break your kiss to let him remove it. He straddled you, pressing his bare chest to yours and resuming his tongue’s exploration of your mouth. You whimpered, feeling him shifting atop you as Hizashi rid him of his clothes, placing a playful smack to his ass once it was bare. You felt his cock, hot and heavy, tap against your thighs, making you clench them together and sob against Shota’s lips.

He leaned back, wiping the trail of saliva that followed away, and crawled off of you. Settling behind you, he pulled you up into a sitting position so you rested against his chest, instantly grabbing and pinning your arms as you tried to cover yourself. He kissed your head, murmuring little praises as his husband pried your legs apart, settling between them to take in the view as close as possible. You writhed, Hizashi pinning your legs as you struggled, openly sobbing,

“Please don’t do this,” his face as he gazed at your twitching, wet pussy looked euphoric. He inhaled deeply, eyes rolling back at your scent.

“Sho, she smells good enough to eat. And she’s wet,” he smirked, swiping his finger along your slit and holding up the glistening digit for his accomplice. Shota groaned in your ear, trapping both your wrists in one hand and kneading at your breast with the other.

“Eat her, then,” he growled, husky voice making your back arched a little involuntarily.

Your soulmate obliged, not needing to be told twice as he closed the distance, flattening his tongue and smearing your juices up to your clit. You cried out, trying to wriggle away as he circled his tongue around the little bud. It was like he already knew how to make you tick, flicking his wet appendage along every spot that made you squirm and hitting your sweet spot the second his fingers penetrated you. In seconds you were moaning, tears drying on your face as you bucked your hips against him.

Shota flicked and toyed with your nipples, leaving your hands free. You reached up, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging it as the pleasure continued to build. You groaned his name and then Hizashi’s, occasionally still babbling for them to stop. Your orgasm sent waves of the most intense pleasure you’d ever felt jolting through your body, making you writhe and cry out as your soulmate lapped up your fluids.

You started to cry again as he continued past the point of pleasure and into painful territory, fingers leaving black locks to pull at blonde ones. He groaned, pumping his fingers faster and harder into your throbbing heat and flicking his tongue harshly against your overstimulated nub. You came again, muttering incoherently as he slowed to a stop, leaning back and wiping his face with a satisfied grin.

“She’s so cute,” his hand trailed up your thigh, “You should try,” he told Shota, watching your cunt twitch and chest heave.

“Later,” you looked up to see him licking his lips and watching you heatedly. You shuddered, sniffling as he wiped away a stray tear. Noticing Hizashi watching, you closed your legs, sitting up and bringing your knees to your chest.

“Are we done?” Your voice came out quiet and coarse, a little shaky as your eyes continued to flood. You bit your lip, looking between the men.

“Not quite, kitten,” Shota’s lips pressed to your back, working up between your shoulder blades and sucking when he reached your neck. He left several bites and hickeys as his husband cupped your face, kissing you softly and slipping his tongue past your lips. You whimpered against him as Shota abused the sweet spot on your collarbone, one hand on your thigh and the other in Hizashi’s hair.

He broke the kiss, planting another soft one on your forehead, “How did you hold back so long, Sho?” he breathed, nuzzling his face against your hair and sighing happily as Shota pecked his lips.

“Wanted to let you go first,” he murmured, kissing him again before readjusting you to the same position as before, resting against his chest with your wrists in his hands, “go ahead.”

Hizashi pulled your hips forward a touch, spreading your legs with his knee and spreading his pre against your weeping slit. His tip against your clit made you twitch, back arching as he toyed with the sensitive nerves. When he’d finished he lined up with your entrance, pressing in slowly to avoid overwhelming you.

Your mouth opened and your eyes clenched shut, head falling back against Shota as he pushed in, inch by inch sliding in until he was buried to the hilt and his hair pressed against you. He groaned sinfully, humping shallowly as you got used to his size. A choked sob left your throat as he started thrusting, pulling out nearly all the way and sliding back in as gently as he could manage when your cries made you pulse around him.

“You feel so good,” he panted, “Good girl,” his thrusts got rougher as he leaned forward, tongue slipping into your open mouth and swallowing your half-pained half-pleasurable moans. Shota let go of your wrists, stroking your hair as well as Hizashi’s as he took in the sight. With your arms free you desperately clung to the man pounding you into his husband, crying against his lips and swirling your tongue against his in a bizarre attempt at seeking comfort from him.

Shota’s fingers intruded on your kiss, collecting saliva from both of you and making it drip down your chins before moving the slicked digits to roll circles into your puffy clit. You gasped at the contact, eyes opening and rolling back into your head as the blonde broke the kiss, licking up the tears lingering on your cheeks. His hips sputtered, lewd squelching noises reverberating through the room as Shota continued his assault on your abused bead.

You came first, back arching, tongue flopped out of your mouth, eyes half-lidded and rolled up into your skull, head braced back against Shota’s chest as you spasmed, clenching around Hizashi’s cock and milking him for all he was worth. He released deep inside, cumming directly against your cervix and rolling his hips to hump against you, riding out both your orgasms. As it subsided, you fell limply against your dark-haired soulmate, completely spent and feeling as though you were floating, disconnected from reality. You felt hands caressing your thighs, hips, and gently pushing sweaty strands of hair from your face.

“...re so good for us,” you focused enough to take in their praises, still shaking as your cunt twitched and drooled Hizashi’s seed. You blinked a couple of times and saw him staring at it, reaching down to collect what was dripping and push it back in, making you whimper weakly. He licked his fingers clean and crawled over you to kiss Shota, both men shifting and gently readjusting you until you were pressed back against Hizashi’s chest. Shota settled between your legs, thumbs spreading your pussy apart for his inspection.

You felt fresh tears stinging your eyes, “Please… please no more,” you croaked, weakly squirming. He leaned down, kissing your inner thigh and inching closer to your fucked out hole.

“Shhh, kitten,” he gently licked up your folds, smearing Hizashi’s cum across your skin and making you flinch when the muscle flicked your overstimulated clit, “You can handle a little more for daddy, right?”

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mcheang · 3 years

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A fashionable costume

This is a draft

For a Halloween Party, DC will be holding a masque and finally unveiling herself. Whoever guesses her in her costume will get a free commission.

Celebrities are invited, especially Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, and Audrey Bourgeois, the only people who knows her identity.

Regular invited clients of DC include Diana Prince, Tim Drake-Wayne, and Lois Lane.

Lila is thrilled to be attending the Halloween masquerade. She preens and pretends to be nice to Marinette, offering to mention her name to DC.

Marinette scowls at Lila and curtly declines.

Alya thinks Marinette is jealous that Lila will get to attend and she doesn’t. She suggests a girls’ night watching the Halloween masque on tv. But Marinette refuses.

DC wears a mummy dress.

Lila knows better than to pretend to be the star designer of the party but that doesn’t stop her from trying to schmoozing up to the celebrities.

Lila tries to tell Lois Lane about the Ladyblog, knowing that her own interviews are there. But while Lois admires Alya’s ability to capture footage, she is dismissive of anything that actually tries to identify the heroine’s identity. Not only is it dangerous to the hero, but the Ladyblogger doesn’t really think things through when digging into Ladybug’s private life. She believed Chloé was Ladybug, of all people. Unless there was actual proof, it was best to take the Ladyblog with a grain of salt.

Clara is easily identifiable with her rhymes and constant motion. She exudes excitement and joy over DC’s unmasking because she is such a darling girl to work with. Lila tries to claim she knows DC too but Audrey overhears and scorns that DC would never tell such a chatterbox with bad hair. Considering she is masked, Lila accuses Audrey of being jealous.

Audrey: me, jealous of the likes of you? Haha! I have never heard anything so ridiculous in my life. Such utter ridiculousness! Haha!

Lila is now praying Audrey doesn’t recognise her and tells Gabriel to fire her.

Diana and Tim have already identified Lila as a lying wannabe and decide to ignore her if she decides to talk to them. Luckily she doesn’t recognise them and chooses not to.

Adrien is happy Kagami is present and has a friend to talk to instead of being stuck with Lila. Kagami admits her own surprise at the invite despite having ordered some clothes from DC before.

Time for the unmasking.

As everyone takes off their masks, their eyes are fixed on the mummy girl onstage. Seriously that dress could be worn outside of Halloween too!

Marinette smiles at the crowd, her blue hair held back with a gold crown. She thanks them all for their support.

As Lois starts the questions, the girls from class are gaping at their tv screen. Ok, so maybe Marinette wasn’t jealous after all.

Lois: How did you get to where you are now?

Marinette: i have Jagged to thank for that. He kept recommending me to his friends. And when Clara told Audrey I had designed her tour costumes, she asked me to be her apprentice in Paris. I said yes. Audrey Bourgeois has been such a great mentor. She doesn’t cut corners and gets right down to the heart of the matter. And of course it helps to have such loyal clients.

Lois: Why all the secrecy?

Marinette: let’s just say I know a girl who likes to lie and make herself look good. We don’t get along and she likes to frame me for things I didn’t do. I would not put it past her to try to sabotage my career before it even started.

Lois: Frame you?

Marinette took this chance to clear her name, knowing some people in school were still suspicious about her. Honestly they had a grand parade for her expulsion but her réadmission was practically hush hush.

Marinette: yes, apparently I cheated on a test because the answer key was stolen right after I handed my test sheet in. A necklace planted in my unlocked locker automatically means that I had stolen it. And of course, I pushed the liar down the stairs when she has absolute no bruises or scars.

Lois paused. “People actually believed her?”

Marinette: they’ll believe her if she tells them Jagged has a kitten and a napkin ball can gouge out an eye.

Jagged: wait, seriously, they believed that?

Marinette: apparently you wrote a song in gratitude for saving your kitten at the airport tarmac.

Jagged: but I don’t even own a cat.

Marinette: i know, right?

Diana: where did you get your inspiration for your designs.

Marinette: all around me. I once got an idea for a recyclable paper gown from my own notebook.

Tim: what will you do now that you have unmasked yourself?

Marinette: I’m still going to take things slow. I’m still in school after all. But you can expect to see my next line at Fashion week!

Excited murmurs ripple through the crowd.

As Adrien and Kagami congratulate Marinette, Lila is seething. She was outed on television. Sure Marinette didn’t mention her name but everyone in school would know she was referring to Lila.

But what to do? Causing a scene would be a bad idea. Especially with celebrities like Audrey and Jagged on her side.

Hope for an akuma? Not enough negative emotion apparently.

In private, Nathalie fired Lila. Apparently her guile was exaggerated if her classmates were just gullible.

Lila was furious enough to attract an akuma. Unfortunately Chat Noir and Ladybug were expecting that.

Adrien spotted the akuma first. Kagami swiftly threw a cup over the butterfly, trapping it. Security took the butterfly away.

Great, now Hawkmoth can’t akumatize someone until this akuma was freed or killed or purified.

Oh and soon after the unmasking, Diana was announced the winner of the contest. She had quickly recognized the aura of Tikki around DC. Diana asked why Marinette chose to expose her nemesis in public like that.

Marinette: because people need to wake up to the truth, your highness. You of all people should know that. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t tried to expose her dozens of times before or gave any names to the media.

And wake up they certainly did. The live broadcast of the defects of Dupont set the school board on Damocles and Bustier. A public apology was given to Marinette.

While the class were not publicly outed for their gullibility, they certainly felt the shame of it. How could they be so easily fooled?

Lila was expelled from Dupont and curious DC fans also blamed her mother for being ignorant of Paris heroes.

#miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug fic #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #ml fic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #I just wanted a chance to use Cleo’s dress!#lila is exposed #lila gets exposed #ml salt fic #salty Marinette #post ladybug episode #post episode ladybug

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i-dreamed-i-had-a-son · 3 years

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Alright so I've seen a lot of opinions floating around and now it's time to add my two cents: the show's Loki is both similar to and distinct from the Loki we remember, and that is, or at least can be, a good thing

We have this idea of the "Loki we know," and we're frustrated that he's not being adapted faithfully--and to a degree, this is correct. Marvel very intentionally chose 2012 Loki as the version to resurrect, because that is when Loki was at the height of his popularity. By doing this, they could get the fanbase that Loki has always had to watch the show, while also avoiding much of the character distortion that came after TDW. A great idea! But then, instead of bringing this character into the show and authentically representing him, they smashed him up with Ragnarok Loki's portrayal. This was mostly done to engage general viewers and to maintain a slightly lighter tone, but both of these are mistakes: first of all, the general viewership has never been Loki's core, active fanbase. But I get it--you want to make money. The second, more egregious mistake, is that you absolutely could have kept a lighter tone with 2012's Loki, and then easily adapted him from there. At the end of Avengers, he's making jokes, and we see even more of these in Endgame. That's humor that's authentic to the character, and doesn't feel disrespectful like Ragnarok was. When we see the Ragnarok style of humor popping up, we immediately get defensive because of how that movie treated him, and we say, "This isn't the Loki we know." But the Loki we know is, to a degree...wrong.

This might seem a bit harsh at first, but I think the fandom as a whole is unwilling to let go of a slightly distorted version of Loki, and that's coloring the fan response to the show. Because we've spent so long with a character that has had relatively few instances of development or even screen time, we've become attached to the version of the character we think we know, sometimes without realizing that collective memory has shifted our perception of him slightly. We're unwilling to let the character change at all, even if at points this growth could be done well--and even if the character was faithfully adapted, he would be met with criticism because he wouldn't be "what we know"; he couldn't be, because we as a fandom created that character, over time and without really recognizing it. To a degree, that kind of misplaced criticism is mixing with the legitimate critiques of the series. It makes us unwilling to look at the good things that are present, even among the flaws.

As an example, let's talk about Loki as a planner, and how his actions in the series compare to those in the earlier movies. A common sentiment I've heard is that throughout episode two (and to a degree, episode one) Loki is just kind of going along with everything. He doesn't seem to have a plan, and this makes people uncomfortable, since the "Loki we know" was a great planner. Wasn't he?

Most of the basis for the "Loki we know," comes from Thor and Thor: the Dark World, so I'll be using those as my "proof texts," so to speak. In those two movies, we see plenty of examples of Loki making spur-of-the-moment decisions to take advantage of a situation; he's a very flexible, adaptable character by nature (as I've discussed before), so this makes sense. The trouble is, I think the fandom memory of Loki has shifted enough that we forget exactly why and how he makes these decisions, and how they turn out. In contrast to what those films actually show us, we tend to think of Loki as a very strategic character, who is too clever to be caught off-guard. That's not the case.

Loki, in those films, has very little grasp or consideration of the consequences of his actions, because his emotions cloud his judgement; because of this, his plans (which are created responsively), and even actions he does not plan, fall apart disastrously. In Thor, when Thor is banished from Asgard, Loki sees an opportunity to step into the role his brother had filled. Then he discovers he is actually Laufey's son, and in response to this news and Odin's falling into Odinsleep, Loki plans to double-cross Laufey and kill him to prove his loyalty, taking the throne in the interim. He does have a plan, but it's one that he developed rather spontaneously based on the circumstances--he didn't plan for Odin to fall asleep so that he could assume the throne, that just...happened, and Loki forms a plan to adapt to it. But when he hears that Thor is trying to return to Asgard, all of his insecurities, compounded by having just discovered that he's actually a Jotun, come back full force; desperate to keep the small bit of identity he thinks he's managed to find, Loki sends an Automaton to kill Thor--whom he loves, and has even said so several times in the film--and then tries to destroy the Bifrost to keep Thor from coming back. These are decisions Loki hasn't truly evaluated; if he had, he wouldn't have made them, because they don't line up with his actual goal, as we see when Thor arrives. When Thor confronts him, Loki essentially has a breakdown, admitting in tears that his real motivation for all of this was just to be considered Thor's equal. He didn't hate Thor, he didn't hate Odin, he didn't even want to be king--he just wanted to be loved as much as his brother. But along the way, his real goal was clouded by his emotional state, and he stopped thinking clearly, instead just lashing out in a desperate bid to protect himself from more pain.

We see something similar occur in Thor: TDW. When Loki sends the guards "up the stairs to the left," he's not thinking about who they might find--he's just lashing out because he's been abandoned by his family, and he wants to exert whatever influence he can over the situation. He wants to do something, especially if it causes problems for Odin and Thor, and he thinks the opportunity has just landed in his lap. He hardly planned for it, but he's not going to pass it up. So he takes it unhesitatingly--and his mother dies. (Coincidentally, after both his father's rejection and his mother's death, Loki nearly dies himself, and at least one of those instances was deliberate. Hmmm...Loki doesn't want to live with the consequences of his actions? It's too painful for him to face what he's done?? Hmm??? But that's beside the point.) Once again, Loki's goals are unclear, and things go wrong because he's just acting on emotion.

All this to say, for Loki, plans are very flexible things that are basically defined as "whatever works best to get what I want," so to say that Loki is just going along with things in the series, and is thus out-of-character, is a bit of an unfair criticism; despite our misremembering, he is, as he's always done, very much acting as a reactive planner. As I've spelled out before, when Loki is thrown into the new environment of the TVA, he immediately starts gathering information, and shaping his responses based off of what he finds. He takes the chances he has to feel things out (at the Renaissance fair, for example), but mostly he bides his time and actively observes until an opportunity arises. This is standard for him, but viewers haven't really been receptive to it, because it isn't what we're expecting.

Now, Loki claims to have a larger plan (something that we think we remember being common), but that's not actually the case. When speaking to Lady Loki/(Enchantress??), he says his ultimate goal is to overthrow the TVA--but he also framed his supposed overall plan as "get an audience with the Time Keepers" when speaking to Mobius. Neither of these are true. In order to more effectively manipulate others, he pretends to have large-scale motivations: with Lady Loki/Enchantress, he knows she will likely only respect him if he claims to have an endgame, since she so clearly does herself, so he manufactures one she likely wouldn't oppose. Mobius, on the other hand, would likely be suspicious without the red-herring Loki throws him; since Mobius believes Loki's trying to get an audience with the Time Keepers, he doesn't become suspicious about how quickly Loki becomes eager to catch the other variant, which would otherwise have been an appropriately huge red flag. But these are just misdirections, further things that Loki is doing to keep himself in the best position possible. That's why his claims of a grand plan (particularly to Lady Loki/Enchantress) sound sudden or unrealistic: they are. But because we think we remember Loki being someone who would have a larger plan, we aren't able to see that he doesn't need to.

This time, unlike in Thor and TDW, Loki's immediate goals are clear: escape the TVA. Be free. Despite Mobius' attempts to get him into a hyper-emotional, and thus, less careful, state of mind, Loki keeps his wits about him. He's intentional with his decisions. He's not lashing out. For once, he's aware of and considers the consequences of his actions--we see him weighing the options as he stands in front of the portal--and he makes the right decisions because his goal is clear in his mind. And this makes all the difference. Loki plays the game expertly, and for the first time, he wins--he escapes.

And I think this is an excellent development, one that deserves more appreciation than we're giving it. It's a good thing that he's not behaving how we think we remember him, as some master planner--that would be being unfaithful to his character. Loki isn't the same as Lady Loki/Enchantress. He doesn't have a grand plan. He just, finally, knows what he really wants. That shows growth, and that is the kind of change we have to want to see, and be willing to accept; so in that regard, it's even good that this Loki is different than he actually was. The Loki we see in Thor and TDW is a highly emotional, and very broken, character, who reacts to his environment often without thinking of the potential consequences; the Loki we're being shown here is still emotional, still clearly affected by what he's gone through, but is now able--or is now being allowed!--to demonstrate his actual capabilities. He ACTUALLY GETS WHAT HE WANTS. That's the first time that's happened, the first time his attempts to protect himself or outsmart someone have actually ended in success instead of disaster. And that's exactly what you should do with a character.

Now, a valid quibble with Loki's characterization is that these things are not obvious, and that is a very legitimate criticism. It's hard to see that Loki is manipulating Mobius by pretending to be helpful, because the show seems to be framing it in a way that encourages us to take Loki at face value. Loki's behavior is an intentional obfuscation, but it can be hard to realize that if it seems like that's what the show is telling us Loki really is. Personally, I justify this by saying that the show is showing us Loki as he wants to be perceived--when Loki is bluffing in episode one, he seems cartoonish and over the top, but certainly nothing like he actually is, and this is what he intends. When he seems too jovial and trusting in episode two, that's because that's what he's presenting to Mobius. It's about whether we buy into the act as much as the other characters do--which is why Loki's most in-character scenes come when he's alone. When he has no one to perform for, he stops performing for us, too, and we see the genuine presentation. But, I could be wrong--maybe this isn't intentional at all. Maybe the writers really are just trying to revamp a character from 2012 and are doing it clumsily, and that's why he seems out of character in moments like those. It's too early to say, and honestly, we may never be sure.

But there are real, valid, and undeniable moments of positive development, the likes of which Loki has never had the space to experience before. They are present if you are willing to look--but they are much less obvious to people who don't want to see them. I agree, they are hard to see, and if I'm being honest, I haven't loved the show anywhere near as much as I would have liked to so far. But I think the fandom as a whole is so caught up in this idea of the "Loki we know" that they don't see the Loki we have for what he is--people are too attached to a misremembering of Loki's previous actions to realize that the change in his behavior isn't a regression or a flaw in his writing but a sign of growth. We're too attached to his brokenness and weakness to let him become strong.

We are defensive about Loki's character because of how it's been mishandled in the past, but if you actually look, you'll find that there is actually a lot of good in what we're being given. I'd agree that the show has to get better about making that obvious if it wants to succeed. But I think some of the harsh criticism the show has been receiving is unwarranted. It might not be perfect, and some of these decisions on the parts of the writers might not be intentional, but Loki has always been a character we've had to think about in order to understand him. Just like this show, there is much good about him beneath the surface. And for as much trouble as it causes sometimes--I'm glad that isn't changing.

#loki #loki series #loki series spoilers #meta #marvel #my meta posts #i just want us to give it a chance ok? if we give it a chance and think about it who knows--maybe it will surprise us just like loki does #and i do think that we have grown so attached to 'our' version of loki that we haven't realized it isn't truly attainable #we've had nothing for so long that we've formed this idealized image of the character that no portrayal can ever live up to #and while this is a natural consequence of how marvel has handled things i don't believe it's fair to judge it so quickly #we should keep an open mind is how i see it. who knows? maybe things will change.#and i have a feeling that that openness to change will be a major theme of the show #loki as a character is finding himself and perhaps we can find him along with him #because some change is necessary to bring him successfully into the present mcu. and they can handle it better--but so can we #this might be a hot take? idk i just have a lot of thoughts #but please no discourse! discussion is encouraged and i know emotions run high bc loki is very important to us but let's be kind ❤️#kay has a party in the tags #kay can i just catch my breath for a second #quality meta seal of approval #not to hype my own post up i just put that on all meta posts so that i can find them

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hotchley · 3 years

Text

balls fair in love and war

So... this is the fic inspired by the AU in this post. Umm... it's a shambles, I low-key hate parts of it, the ending is rushed, but we're going with it before my laptop dies </3

Ignore any and all medical inaccuracies. I did a bit of research, but a lot of it confused me, so... this is not an accurate representation of a concussion. Like seriously. Also ignore any ethical issues, they're just... it's fine. As usual no proofreading. Umm.... don't ask where Rossi is. I don't know.

Taglist (I guess? I don't actually have one, it's just for this lol): @eldrai @willlemonheadsupremacy @shmaptainhotchnersmain @sarcvstiel @unionjackpillow @katytheinspiredworkaholic (you said you would read it so... is that okay?)

A very big and grateful thank you to @aaron-hotchner187 for giving me a title!! And to everyone else that gave suggestions, you are also much loved <3

Also, the way Hotch acts as a teacher is inspired by the way I think @ellyhotchner will be when they become a teacher <3 and everyone go and tell @whump-town thank you because she: told me about penlights, gave me the easy tiger line and is just overall a good person.

Trigger Warnings: concussions, fear of brain hemorrhages, hospitals, self-blame

read on ao3!

Like most things that went wrong in Aaron Hotchner’s life, his current predicament could be blamed on Emily Prentiss. He would not hear otherwise. And he didn’t think he should be forced to hear otherwise, given he was the one sitting on a hospital bed in a thin gown that did nothing to keep him warm, whilst she got to sit outside with a cup of coffee.

She had, admittedly, looked absolutely horrified when the accident occured, and had spent the whole journey to the hospital apologising again and again. He’s pretty sure she offered up her first-born child to him at some point as a form of penance. As well as her apartment. And he definitely remembers hearing something about grading his papers for him.

So whilst he may not want to be anywhere near her offspring- especially if they’re like her- and whilst he may definitely not want her apartment- he doesn’t care what she says, it is haunted- he will be taking her up on that last offer. Did he feel suitably appeased by her squirming the whole time, and by the fact that she was the one that had to explain to the principal why there were two classes screaming, crying and a teacher on the floor?

Yes, but there was no harm in milking it.

If he’s being completely honest, he felt like he was taking advantage of a hospital bed. He was sure he was fine. Yes, it hurts to move his head and he feels dizzy, and he probably has all the symptoms of a minor concussion, but he just really doesn’t want to be in the hospital.

Besides, he needs to make sure the kids aren't traumatised. It can’t have been easy for them, watching him just fall to the ground and hit his head hard enough for there to be blood. Emily could be traumatised, he didn’t care. But their students? Absolutely not.

He sighs. He wants to hand in his resignation now. Going back is going to be so embarrassing.

“I don’t think you understand. He is my best friend, and if he doesn’t get this blanket, he will- Spencer, what will he do if he doesn’t get this blanket?” A voice says from outside.

Aaron closes his eyes. He wants the ground to swallow him up. Forget returning to school, the next few minutes of his life are going to be even more embarrassing than the time Emily tricked him into being part of the Christmas pantomime. Haley hadn’t been offended, thank goodness, but still. It took him three months to be able to meet her eyes.

“He’ll- he’ll- I can’t even say it, it’s just so upsetting,” Spencer lies.

“Ma’am, sir, if you would let me speak for two seconds. Miss Prentiss said that some of her colleagues would be coming with Mr Hotchner’s things. All I am asking for is proof of identity,” the floor receptionist says.

The apologies immediately start to pour from the mouth of Penelope Garcia, whilst Spencer Reid just takes out both their driver's licences. The receptionist clearly approves, because before Aaron knows what’s happening, he’s being embraced by someone who smells like roses, and his favourite blanket is being draped over him.

“Oh my goodness, you don’t know how grateful I am that you’re alive,” Penelope says.

Aaron gives her a slight smile. Penelope is one of his favourite people, despite all their differences. And he likes to think he’s one of her favourites. He wouldn’t be thinking wrong.

“Penelope, I’m fine. Seriously. This is just a precaution. I promise it isn’t that bad,” he says, even though the light is starting to hurt his eyes.

“Isn’t that bad? I saw you and Emily taking your classes outside, which was weird to begin with because you both have classes that don’t require being outside, what were you doing? And then, I’m watching because the class can be trusted to sketch without my guidance and I’m curious. But then I turn my back for three seconds to help someone, and everyone is screaming, and you’re on the floor, and there’s blood everywhere and- it was scary!” she says.

“I’m so sorry,” Aaron says, for lack of anything else to say.

“I don’t want you to be sorry! I want you to stop getting hurt!” Penelope exclaims, whacking him in the shoulder.

“I don’t want you to be sorry either. It was hilarious to watch, my students were in hysterics,” Spencer adds. Penelope glares.

Aaron isn’t surprised. Him and Spencer get on- they even have shared interests- but they also have some of the same classes. And as a result of the different subjects and ways they teach, it seems to them that it is impossible for their students to like them both.

“So, not that I don’t appreciate it, but why are you here?” He asks.

Spencer and Penelope glance at each other, and Hotch feels like he’s dealing with two students that have tried to set up two of his friends.

“Garcia. Reid,” he says. In the same tone he uses when dealing with two students that have tried to set up two of his friends.

“We thought that if we came, JJ wouldn’t, but uhh-” Spencer starts.

JJ bursts into the room before he can finish. “”Hotch! What happened? I mean, I’ve heard what happened because Strauss came and told me the basics, but still. Why were the two of you in the playground? Are you okay? Let me see that bump on your head. I also brought your lunch in case you were peckish.”

“Well basically-”

“Why does Emily look like she’s about to start crying?” Haley asks, entering.

Everyone but JJ turns and stares at her with a slight look of horror. Aaron slides down the bed slightly, hoping the blanket can cover the furious blush that he just knows stains his cheeks. Him and Haley went on a date once, after he asked her in a moment of impulsivity. It was the worst thing he’d ever done, for both of them.

“Oh come on guys, we’re professionals. JJ asked me to come because apparently, Aaron listens to me? I said he’s just too afraid of me to disobey. Which, I meant as a joke, but you do know that I don’t hate you right? Sure, the date was a disaster, but you do know we can still be friends?”

“I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me,” he confesses.

“That’s why I brought her with me. To prove you wrong,” JJ says. “But yes, why is Emily so upset?”

“Because I almost killed my best friend and traumatised our students and I’ve ruined his life and our careers and he can get me fired and press charges, but all I wanted to do was make him laugh, and this is the first place where I’ve felt appreciated, and I’m going to lose it all,” Emily sobs from outside.

“Can you bring her in?” He asks Penelope.

She obliges, and Hotch pats the area next to him. Emily sits beside him, wiping her eyes on the corner of the extra blanket they brought.

“You didn’t almost kill me, it’s a mild concussion at most. Our students have seen worse, and they will be fine. My life is not ruined because you will be doing my grading. I’m not going to get you fired or press charges, and you’re not about to lose any of this. Okay?”

“You always know what to say,” she says.

He ruffles her hair.

“Love you. Platonically,” he tells her.

She gives him a bright smile, and he can feel himself smiling back, less embarrassed about everything.

And then she starts laughing hysterically, and deliberately shoves him, causing him to almost fall out of the bed, only stopped by Haley and Dave each grabbing one of his arms and pushing him back up. Of course, Emily just looks at him like she hasn’t done anything wrong.

“I cannot believe you fell for that. As if I would ever be that upset. Honestly. Haley, maybe I should replace you as drama teacher!”

Haley raises an eyebrow. “Ah yes, because the last time you got others involved in theatre, it ended so well.”

Emily has nothing to say.

Aaron does. He turns and swears in French.

“Naughty boy. Don’t let anyone else hear you. Especially not my class, I told them what that meant after you said it when I stole your stapler and then told you I’d given it to Miss Brooks.”

He pales.

“Speaking of your classes, how did this happen?” Haley asks, clearly sensing the need for a change in topic.

Emily looks at Aaron.

“It was your fault!” he says.

“Well it was your idea!” she counters.

He sighs. “So what happened was…”

Hotch and Emily’s classrooms are next to each other. To Hotch, this is both a blessing and a curse. It means he could keep an eye on her. It also means he had to keep an eye on her. See, Emily isn't irresponsible, and she would never actually endanger her students, but sometimes, she leans towards danger.

How, when she teaches modern languages, is beyond Hotch, but regardless. Strauss had actually hired Emily, not just for her abilities, but because she believed someone needed to keep an eye on Hotch. How the times have changed.

Hotch is on break duty, and he can't see anyone from his class. Which is weird. He tries to keep their lives as stress-free as possible, and he was always willing to help anyone that needs it, but certain assessments could not be avoided. But still, he expects to see at least one of them outside, if only to get a few minutes of fresh air.

Emily smiles at him sympathetically before she walks into her classroom. It is like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over him. Sympathy from Emily isn't comforting. Not when it was aimed at him. If anything, it just makes him more scared. The last time she had looked at him like that, he had explained how his date with Haley had gone from one disaster to another.

And then she laughed.

So he pushes the door open, stepping back in case something fell on him. It wouldn't have been the first time. But nothing does. So he steps into his classroom, expecting to see his eleventh grade literature class doing something suspicious.

They aren't, and suddenly he understands exactly why Emily had looked at him like that.

Because his class has never looked so upset or defeated. And his heart breaks for all of them. It has been a while since he was fifteen, but he wouldn't ever forget the feeling of helplessness that seemed to define his existence. Nor would he forget how everything felt like too much and not enough.

"What happened?" He asks them gently.

Violet, a quiet girl that always tells him what Miss Prentiss had said about him, burst into tears. One of her friends patted her back, but it's clear they didn't quite know what they were doing. Neither does Hotch, but goddammit, these are his kids. Nobody is going to hurt them.

"Hey, it's okay. Do you want to go somewhere else?" He asks her.

She shakes her head. "I just- I want all of this to be over, but then I don't because it means going to college and leaving here and having to grow up, but I just- I have no fucking idea what I'm doing and it's all too much."

He winces at the use of swear words, because he is still a teacher, but that also means he feels a sense of pride that she's able to voice what it is. Because now, he may not be able to fix the situation, but he can help.

"I know. That's okay. That's normal. And you'll work it out. You know, I almost became a lawyer."

She looks up, her eyes red, but starting to sparkle again. "A lawyer."

"Yep, I almost also applied to the FBI Academy. It was actually Miss Prentiss that talked me out of that one. Well, it wasn't really talking but the true story is a little too… inappropriate for school."

"I can't imagine you doing either of those. You'd get bored as a lawyer, and you would never smile as an FBI agent," Clarissa says.

Hotch blinks.

She shrugs like it's the most obvious thing in the world. And then she offers him a piece of candyfloss, which he rejects.

He checks his lesson plan. And then his planner. And then the calendar he keeps on his table. Emily always makes fun of him for being so organised, but Spencer admires it, and that makes him feel cool, so he focuses on that instead.

"I have a compromise. We don't need to do a lesson today, we have more than enough time to cover everything because we're already ahead. I let you do whatever you want for the remainder of the lesson- whether that's colouring or crying or dancing. But you have to do it outside. I didn't see any of you at break."

"Really?" Violet asks.

He nods. "Of course."

Everyone cheers, and grabs their bags, clearly ready to not use their brains for a bit. Aaron gives them the most warm smile he can manage, but he can't help the small surge of guilt that accompanies his lack of realisation.

As his class exits, happily chattering away to each other, Emily pokes her head out the door.

"Mr Hotch, what are you doing, and can I join?"

Immediately, all eyes are on him.

"Please?" Violet asks.

Clarissa pulls out the puppy eyes.

Thomas falls to his knees.

"Oh my god, yes fine, okay, just- everyone be quiet before Strauss finds out and shouts at me," he says.

Emily runs back inside, and soon, they're all just milling about and having fun on the playground. It's nice, both for the students, and the teachers, to have a bit of a break from the world, and to spend a few moments away from it all. Some of them are running around, playing a game of tag, some of them are simply sitting around, and a few are colouring.

"Do you still like playing catch?" Emily asks him.

"What?"

"Catch. Remember, you used to play it with Sean all the time when we were in college."

"I mean yeah, I would probably get involved, but I'm not quite sure-"

"Think fast!" She shouts, and she lobs a netball at him.

The last thing he thinks, moments before his head meets the ground with a large amount of force- enough for there to be a small amount of blood- is: how is it always her? Every single time he gets into a situation, it's her that causes it. That has to be statistically impossible. Maybe he should ask Spencer…

"So yeah! And now I'm here!" He shoves Emily, who has the audacity to look offended.

Penelope kisses his forehead. Haley laughs a little, but Reid just blinks like he can't quite believe how stupid his co-workers are.

"Well. From what I've heard, it was a pretty good shot," JJ comments.

Haley turns to her. "From everything we've just been told, that's what you choose to pick out?"

"I'm a gym teacher, can you really blame me?"

Emily mutters something.

"You were what?" Garcia asks.

"I was aiming for his leg," she repeats.

"Emily. I know you teach languages, not biology, but look at me. Head," Hotch says, pointing at the bump he's not going to cover up, "Leg." He points at his ankle.

"It's always lovely when people know their anatomy. Saves me a lot of time," a new voice says.

Hotch turns in the direction of it, ready to make a snarky comment, but whatever words he had thought of die on his lips as he suddenly feels like he's been transported into a medical drama full of unrealistically attractive protagonists.

Because the doctor who has just walked in is the most handsome man he has ever seen. His smile is easy and genuine, and his eyes seem to twinkle with mischief. And his arms, oh god his arms seem like the safest place to exist. Aaron can't help but wonder what it would be like to have those arms wrapped around him-

His cheeks warm. No.

"Hi, I'm Dr Morgan. But you can all call me Derek. I'm here for Aaron Hotchner. Who I am going to assume, is you," he says, looking straight at Hotch.

"I- yes. How did you know?"

Dr Morgan- Derek- somehow smiles even more. "Well, even though there are far too many people in here- did all of you somehow miss the two people at one time sign- you are the only one in a hospital bed wearing a hospital gown, so. I'm no profiler, but it was pretty easy."

If it's even possible, his cheeks flush more. But one word sticks out to him. "Wait, profiler?"

"You got me. Crime procedurals are my guilty pleasure. I always said that if I joined the FBI, I would become a profiler. Obviously, I went down a very different route."

"Obviously. Wait, too many people? Oh god, I'm so, so sorry, if you need them to leave, they can. In fact, I also feel a lot better, so if you would like me to also go, I really, it's no trouble."

Because he is an idiot- there really is no other justification for this- he tries to stand up. And he does. He also gets a few steps in before the world starts spinning and he almost loses his balance. Derek somehow moves fast enough to guide him back to the bed. Aaron tries and fails to ignore how warm he is.

"Thanks," he whispers, slightly breathless. And not just from almost hurting himself again.

"It's not a problem Aaron. Both things. Your friends can stay, we're just doing some simple checks," Derek says.

"Oh everyone calls him Hotch," Penelope says.

"Aaron is fine. Really." Because he likes Derek calling him Aaron. He wants Derek to call him Aaron.

And then he meets Emily's eyes and he realises his mistake. There's a common denominator that exists with everyone that he tells to call him Aaron, and he knows that she knows what it is. He's fucked.

"Okay then. Well, can you explain to me what happened?"

Aaron is mesmerised by Derek's eyes. So mesmerised that he forgets to answer. "Sorry, what?"

There's a flash of concern, replaced by a smile. "Can you tell me how you ended up here?"

"Oh yes. So, I'm a teacher- so is everyone here. And I- I was outside, with my- my students when Emily- that one there- she, look, it's a really mild concussion, can I just be discharged? I'm sure my students are very, uhh, very scared," he stutters. Why can he never function when he likes someone? It's mortifying.

"I'm sure it is, but you can't blame me for doing my job. I'm going to take your heart rate now, okay? The stethoscope will be cold, but it'll warm up eventually," Derek says.

Aaron nods, and barely flinches when it touches him. If anything, he's more concerned by how close Derek seems to be. Not in a malicious way, but he's always had this deeply irrational fear that if someone got too close to him, they'd be able to read his thoughts. Which would mean Derek can hear both the fact that he has a crush and that he has this fear.

Derek pulls away, and Aaron exhales.

"Your heart rate is unusually fast. Normally that wouldn't be too concerning, because we expect that when patients seem anxious, but you've seemed pretty calm, up till this moment," Derek says, noting how Aaron tenses.

"Is he going to be okay?" Penelope asks.

Derek turns to her. "Of course he is. He's in good hands."

Aaron needs to get his mind out the gutter before his cheeks explode. Or before Emily opens her mouth.

"Aaron, I know you think the concussion is mild, but this is still a requirement. I'm going to turn on this penlight, and I'm going to ask you to follow it with your eyes okay? Follow the light," Derek explains.

He nods, and Derek turns the penlight on. Aaron flinches at the brightness of it, then tenses in slight fear that his lovely doctor is going to be annoyed at him or call him difficult, or sigh and say he needs to stop acting like a child. It wouldn't be the first time,

But Derek doesn't do any of those things. He does something very different.

He places his hand on Aaron's thigh. "Easy tiger. I won't hurt you," he says.

Aaron melts. His eyes drop down to where Derek's hand is warming his skin. He thinks Derek says his name, but he's too busy having a crush to hear him. And then suddenly, his thigh is cold, but Derek is touching his shoulder and he should be shying away from the light being shone in his eyes. But he isn't because he's too busy looking at Derek and his beautiful eyes to even pay attention.

Rather late, he remembers that there is a reason for Derek to be looking at him the way he is, and he tries to follow the light. But the headache he's had since he came around is only getting worse, and the light isn't helping.

Derek isn't smiling anymore.

"Aaron. Be very honest with me. You've displayed difficulty with coordination, memory and speech. If I asked you whether or not you felt sick or nauseous, what would your answer be?"

Normally, he would just under exaggerate, but Derek seems to genuinely care. So he chooses to be honest.

"Yes?"

Derek's eyes widen. "Aaron, I don't want to alarm you, but I like to keep my patients informed. You're going to have a CT scan done immediately, and there's a chance you may be rushed into emergency surgery."

Everyone, including Emily, starts to panic, but Derek leaves the room to grab a nurse to help, and to tell someone else to make sure there's a clear room. Aaron isn't completely sure what's happening, but his head is killing him, so he lays down again. It only helps a small amount.

For Aaron, the CT scan isn't too bad. If he knew the reason it was being done, and that it wasn't a routine procedure, he would probably have spent the whole time panicking. But he doesn't, and so he sits there- well lies there- with a slight smile on his face. The migraine he's had has been getting worse, so keeping his eyes closed for such an extended period of time is actually quite enjoyable.

It is far less enjoyable for everyone that is upstairs, waiting to find out whether or not their friend has a brain hemorrhage. That's what Derek told them after Aaron was carted away, still seeming very out of it. They needed to test him for a brain bleed. And if he had one, then it would just be a case of waiting to see whether they could treat him. And even if they could treat him, it wasn't guaranteed that he would get back to normal.

Emily, in spite of all of her teasing comments, isn't coping. Because it's still early, the floor is relatively quiet, and Derek is technically on his lunch break, so he's sitting with them in an attempt to provide them with some sort of comfort. He's not sure where this emotional attachment to these random people has come from, but it's formed itself and now he's determined to provide some comfort.

"I really was aiming for his leg," Emily whispers.

"Hmm?" Derek asks, not quite following.

"When I threw the ball, I really was aiming for his leg. He had lost consciousness by this point, but I started crying when he hit the ground. He forgave me. He told me he loved me, platonically that is, and I laughed at him. He's going to die, and he isn't going to know how much he meant to me."

"He's not going to die. He may not even have a brain bleed. But if he does, we're going to save him, and you're going to be able to spend the rest of your life telling him how much he means to you. I promise," Derek says.

Even though there are tears in her eyes, Emily turns to him and smiles. "You're a good man, Dr Morgan."

"That's all I've ever wanted, Miss Prentiss. So thank you. It means a lot to me." And it does. He replays the moment as he goes over to Spencer and Penelope, who he feels a strange sense of protection over. Like he needs to protect them from everything, which is weird, because once Aaron is discharged, he'll probably never see them again.

That shouldn't make him sad, but it does.

"Mr Hotchner's CT scan came back normal. There's no sign of a brain bleed," the nurse tells them, what feels like a lifetime later.

There's a collective sigh of relief, and when he's wheeled back in, looking tired but alive, Emily throws her arms around her best friend, who lets out a soft sound of surprise. Like he's not quite used to the fact that people love him. Derek smiles. His patient will be in good hands when he gets discharged.

"Wait, so what caused all of those problems?" Spencer asks.

The nurse shrugs. "It's probably as simple as: his concussion was more severe than we initially thought, but not as bad as we feared."

"Oh."

"And on that note, Aaron, we're keeping you overnight for observation. It's just to be safe. We can't be too careful. You gave everyone a very big scare when you got sent out," Derek says.

Aaron cannot, and will not, confess. Does he feel guilty? Yes. But he can live with the guilt. He cannot live with the all-encompassing shame that will come with explaining that actually, the reason he was stuttering and failing the penlight test was because of a silly little crush.

"Okay," he says, determined to be as compliant as possible.

"One- and only one- of you is welcome to stay with him, if you'd like," Derek adds.

Haley's eyes light up. "I'll do it! Jessica can bring me my things, and maybe you'll be able to look at me after we've spent another night together. Only this time, nobody's getting pneumonia. I hope so, at least. You're not cold are you?"

Aaron shakes his head. "But you really don't need to stay. I'll be fine on my own. Seriously."

"I know, but I want to. Believe it or not, I do actually enjoy your company."

He smiles.

"We should all be getting a move on. Jason and Erin will want updates, and I have lots of marking," JJ says. She kisses Hotch on the forehead before walking to the door, smiling at Derek for looking after her friend so well.

Spencer waves from where he's standing and Penelope showers him with affection. Emily is the only one that seems hesitant to leave.

"Can I stay till visiting hours end?" She asks.

"Do you feel like you can keep up with these two lovely ladies Aaron?" Derek asks.

Aaron has never enjoyed the sound of his name as much as he does when it comes from the doctor. "I- sure," he stutters, and he just knows his cheeks are a stupid colour. Emily frowns, as though she finds something suspicious.

Derek smiles. "Good man. I'll be back in a few hours to run the same tests as before. For now, take it easy."

Derek doesn't come back a few hours later, because he has other patients. It's a different doctor, and Aaron is both relieved and disappointed. Because on the one hand, he's not going to create another medical crisis, on the other, he wants to see Derek again.

Maybe he can get Emily to knock him out again…

"Your heart rate seems completely normal. And you followed the penlight exceptionally well, so I believe we have nothing to fear. Of course, you'll stay overnight, and we'll run these tests once more before you're discharged tomorrow, but I think we're out of the woods now," they say.

Emily gasps, and Aaron knows he's screwed. Luckily, both the doctor and Haley seem to not have heard, and she leaves with the doctor, so Aaron doesn't have to know right at that moment whether his suspicions are correct.

"Night Hotchner," Haley says a few minutes later.

Hotch is already asleep.

The entire team comes and collects him from the hospital.

Aaron is just grateful they're sending him home with a pack of all the things he now needs to do, because he spent the whole lecture admiring how handsome Derek looks with sun shining down on him that he didn't take any of it in. It's also Derek's signature on the discharge papers. He's reminded of high school, when he and his friends would make fake marriage certificates. Not that he's going to do that.

"Bye Aaron. I don't want to see you here any time soon, okay?" Derek teases.

"I won't make any promises," he replies, just relieved he does it without stuttering or blushing.

Derek smiles, and the twinkle in his eyes seems even more mischievous. "Miss Prentiss," he says, spotting Emily.

"Dr Morgan," she responds. She's smirking.

When Aaron asks her what was going on, she doesn't answer. Haley says it's probably linked to the emotions of the previous day, and she's usually good at reading these situations, so he doesn't push any further. Besides, he's too busy catching up with the meetings he missed, and the antics of his students, because a lot happened in the three days he was off, to give it much thought.

Two weeks pass, and the incident is almost completely forgotten.

But then he walks back into his classroom, having just finished a meeting, and he finds flowers on his desk. Tulips. His favourite. He immediately pulls the note out, and when he opens it, he almost wonders if he's concussed it.

Because he knows that signature. He's been staring at it for fourteen days. It's Derek's.

"Surprise. Aaron," a voice says for the doorway.

"How- what- I- what?"

Derek Morgan, still in scrubs and a white coat, smiles at him. "Want to pick a question I can actually answer?"

"How did you- what are you doing here? And why?"

"Well, you should thank Emily. After the other doctor took your heart rate, she came and told me her suspicion. Apparently, you always say you're Hotch. Even the students call you Mr Hotch. Which is strange, because I call you Aaron. And, you shouldn't have done the penlight flawlessly if you had a more severe concussion. So she thinks you have a crush. I didn't want to be unethical, so those flowers can simply mean: I hope you're coping. If you don't have a crush that is."

"What if I do?" Aaron asks, surprised at his own boldness.

"Then I would ask if I could kiss you before I take you out to dinner," Derek says, not missing a beat.

"And if I said yes?"

Derek takes three long strides, and he kisses Aaron like it's something he was made to do. Aaron melts against him, trying to memorise him as quickly as he can, before he realises he has all the time in the world to do that. Because Derek is going to take him out to dinner. Derek, who brought him flowers.

"That was- wow. Wait. You have a crush on me too!" Aaron exclaims with a grin.

"Of course I do," Derek says.

That stuns Aaron back into silence. "Wow," he whispers to himself.

Derek hugs him, and being in his arms is everything- no more- than Aaron imagined it to be. "I'm glad you're okay," he says.

"I'm glad you don't hate me," Aaron says, because he really doesn't know what else to say.

Derek laughs, and Aaron can't wait to find all the ways he can make that happen.

"We should say thank you to Emily at some point. If she didn't know you as well as she does, she wouldn't have realised you had a crush. And if she wasn't so terrifying when she wants something good for her friends, I wouldn't have sent the flowers."

"Can we say thank you later? I want to stay like this for a few moments," Aaron whispers, snuggling closer to his new boyfriend.

"Of course we can," Derek says, kissing his forehead.

When they eventually make it to Derek's car- Aaron can come back tomorrow and get his, it'll be fine, Aaron realises he has one more thing to say.

"Derek?"

"Yes, sweetness?"

Well. That makes him feel things he won't confess too, because he needs something to make him seem the slightest bit cool.

"I'm really sorry I made you think I had a brain hemorrhage."

Derek's laughter is so real that Aaron can't help but join in, and they end up not starting the car for five minutes because it would be irresponsible to drive in that state. And it's only when they're pulling out that they both realise something: Derek gets to see Aaron's family again, and Emily didn't need to hit him in the head again for him to get to see Derek again.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #hotchgan #mortch #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #tw concussion #tw brain hemorrhages #tw hospitals #tw self blame

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floralovebot · 3 years

Note

what are ur thoughts... on helia's relationship with masculinity? his earlier wardrobe was softer colors and peasant blouses and his (beautiful, beautiful T^T) hair was kept long. obviously we know that shit slapped even if the show wont acknowledge it now. his look always made him super distinct from the rest of the guys, but i feel like that may have also been an alienizing factor? red fountain is a military school and i promise im not asking for your take on gender roles or toxic masculinity of the entire magic dimension or to write helia a planet and culture and backstory from scratch (unless? 👀, bc your takes are always fascinating), but do you think he was ever taken with that, or felt subject to other's opinions on that sort of thing? has he always been comfortable with his presentation, or did he have any clumsy teenage overcompensating? if the latter, would you say leaving red fountain helped him come to terms with that or reinvent himself to his tastes? or maybe had him overcorrecting in the opposite direction, to distance himself from the red fountain lifestyle as well as account for his two haircuts and more traditionally masculine style later on?

anon i'm in love with you.

I have so many thoughts about Helia's overall aesthetic (and some about his concept designs heheh) but I won't get into all of them since that would make this way too long. To be honest, within canon we don't know a lot about Helia's personal thoughts about Red Fountain or the culture surrounding it and other military/paramilitary establishments. While this does make it harder for people to give him a solid characterization, it actually makes a lot of sense considering how quiet he is in terms of his own thoughts on things. We have random tidbits and rumors from other characters but almost nothing from him.

When it comes to his looks in canon, honestly I don't think it would ever be an issue. While long hair on men is stigmatized in real life, in Winx Club it's not that big of a deal, in fact, it's pretty normal. We see multiple male characters with long hair and not typically considered masculine wardrobes. Saladin, Palladium, Avalon, Valtor, and even background Specialists are just a few examples. Longer hair on men is a normal thing throughout all of the planets and only seems to be weird on Earth (ie Sky and Helia cutting their hair to blend in). While I do have a lot of thoughts on Helia's hair, I really doubt it was ever an issue in canon. It's only an area of topic in the fandom due to a couple of things that don't factor into canon (such as men having long hair being stigmatized in real life or the rumors that Helia was originally a female character [with absolutely no proof of that besides his long hair and slightly more feminine looking face]).

I think when it comes to Helia feeling out of place, it would likely have more to do with his personal interests, aka art, and not necessarily wanting to be a Specialist. Contrary to fanon, Helia likes being a Specialist and we know he respects Saladin and Red Fountain as a whole. Him leaving was largely due to being more interested in art than the "family business" so to speak. It's shown multiple times in canon that Helia feels a lot of pressure from being related to Saladin and that his own actions and opinions affect both Saladin and the school (which says a lot about how the Magix Dimension feels about families and relations). His back and forth between being a Specialist and being an artist have to do with him not wanting to disappoint Saladin or affect his image in a negative way.

We do know that other Specialists and people outside of the school have opinions about him and what he does but we don't actually know how he feels about that or how he deals with it. It gets brought up quite a few times; random people who aren't close to him talking shit for no reason (Brandon in ep.8, Riven multiple times in the comics, other random specialists, etc), and yet, Helia's own feelings about the matter never get revealed. Again, I think this plays into how quiet he is about his own emotions, not wanting to start shit or get into a fight that could later damage Red Fountain's image.

In that way, you could say Helia deals with some amount of rejecting masculinity, but personally, I think his actions have more to do with feeling like he needs to have a "good" image because of his familial relations. Helia doesn't start conflict, he doesn't push things or engage in arguments, he's extremely conscious about how his actions affect Saladin and the school (he even uses this to his advantage in the Shaab Stone arc). We don't know the extent of how much people talk about him, behind his back or to his face, and we don't the extent of how much it affects him.

Personally, I think Helia is conscious enough to have dealt with toxic masculinity, specifically trying to get away with it, earlier in his life. While Red Fountain is a paramilitary school, it's shown explicitly that they don't tolerate that attitude and try to knock it out of any boy that enters (aka don't start dumb fights, don't insult your teammates, don't do dumb shit to prove your worth, etc). The only reason the main boys managed to stay in the school is that they're canonically the best students and Codatorta believed in them (also cause yknow,, they're the love interests).

While the Magix Dimension definitely has some degree of toxic masculinity, Helia in particular mostly battles with toxic perfectionism and family legacy. He's not consciously or subconsciously trying to be the ideal version of a man nor does he base his life or opinions of himself on that. Helia tries to be the perfect Specialist and the perfect grandson. He tries to be the perfect student in a school that's largely associated with the best soldiers in the universe and that's also run by his grandpa, while also dealing with his own actions and opinions affecting the image of said grandpa and school. So honestly, no, I don't think Helia particularly gets affected by masculinity, toxic or otherwise, and I don't think any of his actions in canon could be led by it. However, I do think he's in an awkward situation and tries too hard to live up to other people's (and his own) expectations of him and that some of those expectations can run into the "ideal" version of masculinity (such as Brandon saying "he doesn't like to get his hands dirty" as an insult).

While I do love the idea of Helia going through a little teenage rebellion and him going to art school being a result of that, in canon, it's partially implied that he really didn't change. Saladin sees him as the same person and the specialists recognize who he is. There is no "whomst the fuck are you" kind of moment with any of the characters. This is more implied by canon than directly shown but, I do think that Helia was one of those people who had to mature quickly as a kid. And that him leaving Red Fountain multiple times is mostly him trying to get away from those expectations. We see this theme with multiple characters so I don't think it's a wild conclusion.

When it comes to his haircuts and different aesthetics, I think that's mainly Rainbow mucking things up. His aesthetic change in S4 is so they can blend in, it's not him being himself. Even when their identities get revealed and everyone knows they aren't from Earth, they're still trying to fit in and live within that Earth culture. His changes in the later seasons are largely due to Nickelodeon not understanding the characters and just wanting a group of masculine soldier dudes.

Unpopular opinion but: I think a better way of showing how out of their element the specialists were in S4, would actually be to cut Helia's hair super short, not just the uneven shreds he got, and then have him grow it out through the season (maybe even magically like they did with Musa) to show that they're chill on Earth and people aren't scared of them. Is this an excuse for me to imagine him with a wolf cut? Yes.

#anon.. i have Absolutely written an entire planet backstory and culture for him from scratch #all helia stans do that its the one thing we're good at #alhdglajdhgljad #but anyway.. this got really long sorry aljhgdaljdg #while it is implied that helia isnt fond of people talking about him (who is?)#its also shown that he doesnt let it affect his life or his decisions #him running away from rf is him trying to run away from those familial expectations (and to chase his love of art of course)#wait actually scratch the very last bit imagine riven with a wolf cut #see i like thinking about tecna with a wolf cut too...#at this rate im gonna imagine all of them with a wolf cut...#wolf cuts are too sexy for sky im gatekeeping them from him #aldhgadhglja #answered #anonymous #winx helia #mine.metas #yes this is going in the meta tag 😌

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bumackerman · 3 years

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DEAR ADULT READERS/CREATORS,

18+ (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

^ see that? there is absolutely no way you missed that disclaimer if you understand the proper way to read english. but, let’s say you did miss it... here’s this message;

if you are under the age of 18, do not interact with 18+ adult accounts, or content.

there. hopefully you got the memo. if not, then i guess, one day, you’ll have the great opportunity to be featured in this brand new series of exposing, purging, and reporting minors! i mean... yay you?

disclaimer!; do not send any unnecessary hate to any of these people! it does not solve anything, and it could get you in trouble. just report, and block. thanks.

featured today, we have (drumroll please)... @/matching-with-my-demons!

warning: this post is very long!

alright, so i don’t actually know for sure if he’s necessarily a minor, but i do know that he’s been lying his age, and many, many other details about his life, leading to him getting caught by yours truly.

from this point forward, i will be reciting a briefed account of what exactly happened from a collective point of view of all of the victims involved.

I. beginning.

so, (and i think all of the people involved can agree,) this person is a flirt. automatically. just giving everyone pet names, talking about doing stuff with us, role playing with us, you know. nothing too extreme. i wasn’t suspicious of him at this point. i mean, i was sure he was 18+. to be fair, he did mention that he was 21 turning 22. why wouldn’t we believe him? he was speaking like an adult.

II. little lies & suspicion.

now, i’m not saying that this is impossible, but at multiple times during our conversations, he’d mentioned that he was was fluent in seven languages. seven. it’s not entirely impossible, but you’d think that if english wasn’t someone’s first (of many) languages, they’d have some sort of accent, right?

not only that, but he stated that he was six years old when he moved to america from japan, and he hasn’t moved since. i know, i know, yeah, cool he knows a lot of languages, and he’s a foreigner. yadda, yadda. get to the point.

he said that he was of asian descent, and that his parents were both japanese, and they lived in japan their whole lives. where the hell is he learning all of these extra languages at the young age of 21?

if japanese is his first language, we can cut out the time needed to become fluent in it. next, i’m ignoring english, as he would’ve had from the age of 6 to 21 to become fluent in it, but somehow he claimed he wasn’t? (let’s not mention the obvious fake misspellings and misunderstandings of simple words.) how on earth would he have become fluent in (at least) five other languages in middle school-high school?

OTHER LITTLE LIES N DETAILS

- he claimed that he was a 6’7, 21 year old (cis) male.

- said he was a stripper, bartender, and a sex worker (we’ll come back to that later).

- sent a picture of “his” chest, but it was 100% from google or some shit.

- (not judging anyone who does) he said that his body count was 74, but literally no one asked?

- he texted us when he “got another body” tf? we don’t care. carry on, i guess. (said he went on for like 7 rounds but... what?)

- talked about getting a vibrator stuck in his ass n his roommate had to get it out for him, but once again, nobody asked. °-°

- said he could bench 200 lbs. not impressive, just thought it was worth mentioning.

- said he had the same birthday as bakugou, which, okay.. (4/20)

- he made multiple channels in the server where he could roleplay with certain people, which, i, and a couple other people never used.

III. the voice chat.

after a while of all of us messing around, the conversation started to get heated, and some of us were teasing him, including me. we decided to get on voice chat (his idea), and he started talking into the mic. all of us were very confused, as he did not at all sound like a giant of a grown man.

but, despite this, we all warily continued, until he left the call. when he left, everyone who was participating voiced their current concerns, and laughed out our nervousness. that is, until he re-joined and everyone muted. he continued doing what he was doing until he “broke character”, stating he was a voice actor and it was hard to keep up that voice because it hurt his throat. i would’ve believed him if he didn’t sound the exact same as he did when he was “in character”.

after that, we were a lot more concerned and on edge about his identity, and i started to focus more on the shit he was telling us, hoping to find out who the fuck this person really was. i stopped interacting with him in a nsfw way, and mostly observed what he was saying, just watching from the sidelines.

II. the pictures.

captions:

not only do the skin colors just not match up, the hands in each picture are totally different people. even if you take into account the lighting differences, the undertones should still be the same. these pictures are fake.

if you look at the fingers, you can see that the ones on the right are flatter, and shorter. if the hand on the left were to hold that phone, it would wrap all the way around the device.

from a common sense standpoint, we know that our palms are always lighter than our skin tone. the fact that the hand on the left is still darker, proves that these are different people. (not that we needed proof.)

also, if this guy is so muscular, why can he only bench 200lbs? and why is his wrist so skinny?

+ to me, the phone, (right image) and the quality of the picture, looks like a black iphone 4s. from what i can see, at least. meaning, if i’m correct, that picture is majorly outdated.

for both pictures, he flipped the image so that we wouldn’t be able to find it by just by reverse image searching. luckily, one of the people involved was able to figure that out, and told me immediately.

III. ID check.

like i said before, a lot of us were starting to get really suspicious, but at this point, i thought i was the only one that was sketched out, so i issued another ID check.

(be sure to click on the pictures. one of them is really long. also, when reading, read the date and times that messages are sent. i was trying to lighten the mood and be nice, but it was honestly so offensive that he thought i was legitimately dumb.)

so, obviously, these ID’s are fake. not only are the pictures the exact same, but the backgrounds are the same, the outfits are the same, the names are totally fake, and just, wow. i don’t really know how he thought that was gonna slip past me.

after i called both him, and @/yourmajesty-theking out, he went into his own discord and started ranting to some of the other people involved that he was freaking out because he didn’t have his ID.

remember how i said that he mentioned he was a stripper/bartender/sex worker? why the fuck don’t you have your ID on you if you claimed you were at work that day? you can’t get in without it. °-° just- everything he was saying didn’t come together cleanly. the timeline is all sorts of fucked up.

you can’t drive without an ID, how are you getting to work? you can’t get into a strip club without an ID, how are you getting in? you can’t serve alcohol without and ID, how are you a bartender? you can’t get an apartment without an ID, how are you living with a roommate?

he told us that he moved to america with his PARENTS, and somehow his grandmother is in america now? when did that happen? if you’re gonna lie, at least make it believable.

IV. conclusion.

anyway, do what you want with this information. the people in the discord all agreed that based off his voice and the evidence, that he couldn’t have been older than 15, and at most, 16.

though he hasn’t deactivated his account, the last time he was active was april 7, 2021 at 12:39am (EST) he claims he lives in cali, so i don’t know what time that is there.

thanks for reading. i’m sure i missed a lot of stuff, but for now, this is all i could put together. also, lmk if there are any spelling errors. i’m too tired to check.

like i said, if i get any hate for calling out a minor, you will be blocked/reported, and i will not hesitate to turn anons off for the time being. besides, saying dumb shit doesn’t affect me. just makes me laugh.

- bum <3

#18+ (mdni)#🍓. bum’s purge ࿐

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repentantsky · 3 years

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5 Companies That Have Too Much Hype Around Them

Look, we all love our favorite games with a passion, and to an extent that’s fine, but when that passion becomes obsession and that obsession becomes forgetting our own moral compass for the sake of entertainment, it does feel like it’s gone too far. It’s one thing to love what a company releases, it’s completely another to ignore every problem they’ve ever had. Not all of the companies on this list have done horribly un-ethical things, but they’ve at least been anti-consumer, and the fact that people don’t question that enough has led to them sometimes, making horrible mistakes. I am RepentantSky, I love making lists that trash on things that are popular, and these are 5 companies, that have too much hype around them.

5. Nintendo

Already I can hear people getting angry, and in a way I get it. Nintendo is for many people the place where they either begin to play games, or the place they go to keep on playing them when everything else let’s them down, and of course, they put an end to the flipping video game crash of 1983, and no one else will ever be able to claim that from them. That’s all wonderful, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be critical of them. I’ve talked about a number of things they’ve done wrong before, so let me quickly run down the list of some of their anti-consumer practices. They, charge too much for remasters and ports, they don’t drop prices in games, they used to charge for fixing Joy-Cons and now completely deny it’s a problem for legal reasons, despite everyone pretty much having experienced drift, they haven’t been good at getting stock for their items in at least 20 years, and oh yeah, they sell all the content for a remake for $115 on the 3DS, the system and the fans that helped them get by while the Wii U was massively underperforming, all while handing owners of the, at the time, unproven Switch, free content. Nintendo has a tendency to still think like a toy company, and they even used that idea to present the Nintendo Entertainment System as a toy instead of a console when they first game to the West with it, but they aren’t a toy company, their a gaming company that also sells toys, just like everyone else. I get they’ve done amazing things, I own over 150 physical handheld games from them, and a ton of digital games besides, but when they start charging twice what they are worth for SD cards, while releasing games that absolutely won’t fit on the limited space of the Switch, and they simply don’t care when costumers complain, it’s time to at least question their motives.

4. Bethesda

Boy I used to really rip on this company back when I posted lists on Facebook, but I haven’t done it in a while, so let’s do it again. Bethesda has absolutely spent at least the last 10 years lying to people, Todd Howard, has become famous for it, but I think I might have been the only person who wasn’t shocked when Fallout 76 was the disaster that it was. There were so many things wrong with that game, that I don’t even have time to go over every little thing, but lying, you know the thing that will get another company on this list very soon, was a big thing they did with the game. They promised at one point that they weren’t ever going to charge for items in the game that gave in-game benefits, and they did, allowing ammo and other items to be bought with real money for a time, they promised new, specialized servers if you paid for a yearly service that was way too expensive, and that wasn’t true because people found proof of things missing from what would have been a freshly made, private server, and there’s no excuse for that, games in early access do that correctly, and they aren’t, at least supposedly, even finished yet. I wish I could say that’s all they’ve done, but they also bullied an indie developer over their game Prey, a game they may have bullied the original developer for so they could get cheaper, but we’ll never know because they refused to comment on that when asked, they also refused to update their outdated game engine for years, which caused something they spent over a decade fixing, games releasing with glitches, some of them game breaking. Yet somehow, they have such a fan base that those who love their games will claim the glitches are just part of the charm. That kind of fierce loyalty led to Fallout 76, and even though we make jokes about it even now, the horse DLC from way back in the day, was an indication of everything they’ve done, including trying to charge for mods made for free, meant to be consumed for free, twice. Bethesda is a bad company and they do not care.

3. Activision/Blizzard

You know one of the worst things Nintendo does that I didn’t really mention directly in the first entry, is limit the amount of time a product is available, instead of just letting it be there for consumption as long as it’s selling (that was what the toy company reference was about if it wasn’t clear). However, Activision/Blizzard are the Kings of doing this, as they not only limited things while they were in control of Destiny 2 to the point where you pretty much had to use real money to get everything, and never mind everything else they did to it, because we’d be here all day going through it all, but they also don’t support games as a service titles long enough for dedicated fans. Crash Team Racing Nitro fueled, is a prime example of this. People weren’t done with that game, and when fans thought for even a split second that an update was going to come to fix an issue, their hype (mine to) was so explosive, it was almost like we were getting a new game, but then nothing happened, because they didn’t care. A lot of companies that do yearly release titles as a service have this problem and nothing exemplified that more for Activision, than Skylanders, a series originally made off the back of Spyro, who didn’t even wait for a year to release new games, as technically between October 21st and November 20th of the year the first game came out, they released three of them, and I’m not even kidding. Two of them, were mobile games! You might have thought I was going to go after Call of Duty, for this, but that horse has been beaten to ground, somehow, more than Skylanders was. They also, for whatever reason, released each expansion on different generations console generations, at different months throughout Fall, like somehow the season of Fall, they needed a release every month, if not two, and so off they went. I didn’t even get into Blizzard, but all I need to say is “Blitzchung” and all the memories will likely come flooding back. There’s also the fact that in two separate years, after gaining massive profits, they dropped hundreds of employees, and hired more than they’d let go, but I guess that doesn’t really matter to some of you, because when they did it this year, with so little warning, most employees found out via the news articles about it, but we all made such a little stink this time around, it didn’t create any media buzz, so I guess that doesn’t matter, you’d all rather play flipping World of Warcraft, like better MMO’s don’t exist.

2. CD Projekt Red

I know this one comes off a little more fresh in the mind, and they technically only lied about one game, but man, what a series of lies it was. Also, let’s be honest, one major game, does not a great developer always make. CDPR’s previous two Witcher games did exactly what the author of the books thought they would, and that was almost nothing in terms of making a serious impact, and the reason is, they are kind of bad. They aren’t the worst games out there, but there is a good reason why The Witcher 1 and 2 haven’t been ported and/or remastered, despite how important they are to the story of Witcher 3, and that’s because they both suck. Cyperpunk 2077, was in a lot of ways, them just going back to being the developer they were before, the BIG ONE happened. They lied about nearly everything in regards to the game, including how the main platforms where consumers were going to buy it, were actually running well. I made those references to Witcher 1 and 2 for a reason, although if I’m being honest, they actually look better than Cyberpunk did on day 0, and that’s completely unacceptable. The budget for CDPR was basically nothing for Witcher 1 and 2 combined to what Cyberpunk got, but they were so focused on the PC versions because PC ran the game better, somehow (like maybe because they didn’t try with consoles) and they missed glitches that were so bad, the game felt like it was still in beta, if not alpha upon release. The fact that they’ve only released eleven games in twenty-three years, and only two of them didn’t have The Witcher on them, should have told us all we need to know, and yet the game, even after returns, which was another massive screw-job that led to Cyberpunk being removed from the PlayStation store, still sold Sixteen million units, all because of hype, and because apparently, some people don’t care if they’re lied to. Do you want to know what the other game they released is besides a Witcher title? It was flipping Saints Row 2, a fun game, but also one that’s too goofy for it’s own good, and yet suddenly makes Cyberpunk’s release, make sense, because it was all a massive joke, and a parody of good, well running, open world games. CDPR needs to seriously do something, anything different, and never release a game in this poor of a state ever again.

1. Ubisoft

I put Ubisoft at number one for a damn good reason, and that reason is, that everyone seems to hate the company, but loves their games, and I don’t know why. They haven’t been the overall worst company on this list, although they are pretty bad, but the major problem they have, and have had for at least a decade is that none of their games have any identity, they are literally all the same game, with different coats of paint. Sure, an occasional gem sneaks through like Assassin’s Creed IV, but all of the rest of their games have the same visual style (although ACII does seem to be the base for which they create their art let’s be honest), the shooting mechanics they have in all the games that have guns, all feel exactly the same, which is something even Call of Duty manages to avoid most years (guess I took a shot at them anyways) and yet somehow, someway, I keep seeing people getting excited for their releases, and it doesn’t make any sense. Sure, they throw a celebrity actor in from time to time, and the artistic style they use does look pretty cool, but everything is always the same with them, every single time, no matter what it is, and they still keep making money. It doesn’t really make sense either, because a lot of developers do make games that are very similar feeling, see the Life is Strange team or much as well all loved them, Telltale Games, but at least those titles told extremely interesting stories, and developed their mechanics at least a little, which is something most companies do just on principal, but not Ubisoft. They throw out a few Tom Clancy games every time they talk about what their releasing, the Trials and AC games are still mostly a yearly experience, and I’ll say it again, their entire list of releases since at least 2013, the year the previous generation kicked off, have pretty much all been the same. It would be nice if they made more games like Child of Light, but despite the fact that their games will likely never be as popular as Call of Duty, they keep churning out same-y shooters hoping that one day, maybe just one day, they’ll create their own CoD, and it’s just not gonna happen. The saddest part of all is that when they announce something different, something fans have wanted for years, we get The Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time Remake, which was literally delayed because fans said they wouldn’t buy it unless some actual effort was put into making it, why is this company so popular that it can keep doing this, someone please explain it to me.

And that’s my list, can you think of any other companies that are too hyped? Let me know in the notes below, hit me up with a follow if you like my content, and give me a reblog, I’d really appreciate it. Have a wonderful life!

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feckin-zicons · 3 years

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that's why i hate larries, i hate them with all my heart. besides being boring they are hypocrites 🙄

Hey nonnie, sorry its taken me so long to reply but if you’re following me you know I’ve been travelling lately and have been more scatterbrained than usual. Not that I’m ever not scatterbrained, but its been just a little crazier than usual!

Now I wouldn’t go as far to say I hate Larries. After all their delusions can be pretty funny sometimes!

Joking aside, I don’t hate Larries, I love Larries, I’m a Larry, so I really hesitate to tarry the whole group with the same brush. However I do strongly agree with you that there are those who are complete hypocrites. Nothing annoys more more than when Larries ™ treat the other boys, other celebrities, their friends and even family as one more side character to the Larry Show.

In particular when Larries ™ flood comment sections asking or in some cases, ordering people to confirm rumors/the couple being together. The absolute fucking disrespect. Not just because they’re flooding comment sections in videos streams, tweets, what have you, that sometimes have nothing to do with the couple in question, but because its presumptuous and rude as fuck to think they’re owed a coming out- just because they’re fans of the boys.

Stop it. Thats fucking ugly as hell.

While I have no doubt all the boys will one day be out (as referenced by their continued efforts in fighting the closet. I don’t get the sense the boys will just stop at being freed from their contractual obligations). It should and will be on their own terms. Provided they’re not forcibly outed some other way.

Coming out is a deeply personal experience and no one, no one ever, has the right to out someone else. I’ll never not be absolutely furious at the Larries ™ who posted about having ‘receipts’ that would out the boys. Which… tbh weren’t receipts at all but thats a whole other story. I’m also still angry at the reactions after Liams Attitude spread that wouldn’t have been as bad if not for the entitled fandom that peddled ridiculous claims beforehand about Liam confirming Larry to be real.

I mean… What the actual fuck. Setting aside the fandom experience of the time, and boy was it an experience. What right would Liam have confirming Louis and Harry’s relationship? I mean, get some perspective? It doesn’t help that a lot of fandom adults were the ones coming up with, and reblogging those theories and the younger fans ate it up. It would have made more sense for Louis and Harry to do it but idk maybe I’m still out of touch for thinking so. I mean, it felt like every other week someone was talking about Larry coming out. It was such a shit storm oh my god.

Biggest issue I still have with them is that the entitled behaviour hasn’t stopped. For some it seems like, Larry coming out is it for them. Like pack it up, goodbye, shows over, Louis and Harry are gay and in a relationship and everything is rainbows, we get to see cute pictures of them and everyone lives happily ever after.

Yeah, no. Coming out, for anyone, is just the beginning, can’t even begin to imagine what its like for them. They’re still going to need everyones support, and it irritates me that for some fans it seems so fucking conditional.

Time and time again, I’ve seen tweets, and posts, and videos, whatever, going on about Larry coming out and it reads like a fucking wattpad story. Not just that but its always on the assumption by the poster, on the off chance they consider the other 3/5ths of the band and Ziam being a possibility, that Larry will come out first?

What?

I’m sorry but, what?

Everything I’ve seen from the boys tells me they’re all in this together, they support each other and are working through the bullshit as a team. We have all seen the No Judgement music video yes? The merch, posts, double speak etc referencing each other, yes?

I mean, I suppose if you only look at Louis and Harry, like so many do, sure. Only Larry matters, everyone else is a side character in their life.

(Lemme just, scream for a second).

However, that kind of thinking leads them to the wrong conclusions. Like… assuming the SBB/RBB countdown was attributed to nothing, when it counted down to Liam finally being free of Sophia. In the years since, I’ve seen Larries ™ backtrack on claiming the bears had anything to do with the boys, that they weren’t behind it at all, or that they were just trolling the fandom.

You know, despite all the proof otherwise, and some really, really good posts breaking down clues about what the boys were trying to tell us. The moment something might not actually be about Louis and Harry its like all their thinking shuts off. Its frustrating. Really fucking frustrating.

Seriously, fans of the other boys as individulas, not just Ziams, have been talking about the stunts too and how they fit together. Its why we tend to be right, because we’re considering the entire group. They’re still a group. They’re not free until all of them are free.

Just for that Nialls coming out first. Lmao. I’ll call it now. Lets go Niall, whens the baby coming. We all wanna know. Its been years.

Imagine, imagine! Acting like coming out is some race to be won. The fucking audacity.

Go outside and touch fucking grass you absoulte ninny.

I get it, you want to be vindicated, you want to be rewarded for putting your faith in two celebrities being together.

Newsflash you dandelionfluff, its not a race, Louis and Harry coming out isn’t a fucking prize. Thats not what supporting a relationship looks like.

Its worse when someone admits they don’t know much about Ziam or the possibility of Niall being LGBT+, and claim they’re open to it, but then immediately tweet or reblog or sub tweet or tag comment a post or answer an ask from another Larry ™ talking about how Larries ™ are the most marginalized and persecuted group.

???

In what fucking world?

IN WHAT FUCKING WORLD?

If we wanna play that game, boohoo, the media claims Louis and Harry aren’t friends anymore because of crazy shippers. Meanwhile Zayn publicly isn’t friend with anyone and “left” the band… despite the Ziam fandom calling the stunt about either Louis or Zayn “leaving” and getting it down to the exact week (the second article coming out a week before about the Ziam kiss pretty much cemented it for Zayn leaving. Which did a lot to fan the flames of the already rabid fanbase when Ziam got two articles confirming a Ziam kiss over the years and Larry got nada. Like that actually means anything).

Not to mention Larries ™ using the hetties and management tactics against the other parts of the fandom to silence them.

Who cares what the media says anyway! TPTB, 1DHQ, The Sun, The Mirror, Simon and his minions and their unpaid interns have used the media to split the fandom apart and it worked.

Who the fuck cares if the media calls the 1D stans delusional, you know the truth! The truth it out there and you’ve seen it! The truth is coming! Who gives a damn about what some two bit “journo” who failed out of their creative writing course writes? They get worse by the year. If it wasn’t so pathetic and hilarious I might actually feel embarrassed for them. They can’t even come up with new stories and have just taken to copying old articles, but you’re upset with them??? Give it a rest. Honestly.

The sense of disconnect, entitlement and victimhood of some Larries ™ is absolutely ridiculous.

Oh my god they’re Karens. I’m not trying to be insulting, but thats exactly who they remind me of.

I’m not going to say its a surprise to me that so many in the Ziam fandom are POC, LGBT+, and Neurodivergent and any combination of those, but I am going to say I’ve read a lot of Larry fics that just have Het sex made gay. Those in the Ziam fandom just tend to look at facts in a different way than Larries do due to their life experiences. A interfaith, interracial, relationship where one or both partners fall under the Bi umbrella (not saying Louis or Harry can’t be or aren’t Bi+ but rumors, and the way the fandom markets them, puts them firmly in the gay category) looks very, very different than gay or straight relationship. Both looking from outside and being in one. There’s just different dynamics at play that aren’t often realized or understood by the gays and hets.

Its not a bad thing. All relationships are different. The issue is that theres a lot of biphobia/racism/religious prejudice etc that arises from people being unwilling to understand the inherent differences.

Taking myself for example, I’m bi, like, bi as hell, and I don’t understand how gays and hets only like one gender. I just don’t. Can’t wrap my head around it. If someone asks me to choose one gender over the others to prefer I can’t. Its so stressful. My brain goes into panic mode and it feels like I’m being torn apart. My sense of identity is shaken- its a shit feeling. I just can’t lie to myself like that. If other people feel the same well, its no wonder bi+ have such high rates of depression and suicide. Its not about choosing who to like, there is no choice, I just feel attraction to everyone. Aces, I get. Its similar to being the opposite of what I feel, or not feeling an attraction to someone I’m not interested in. Easy. Gays and hets? I’m completely lost on.

Completely, and I know I’m not the only one who feels that way. But that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to try and understand where they’re coming from. Its alien to me, personally, but I’m not going to shut down the fact, that theres a fuck ton of people who only like one gender or try and make up reasons as to why they’re actually bi+

I digress, none of the boys fall neatly into the gay stereotypes, its just that parts of the Larry fandom have boxed Louis and Harry into certain roles to fit preconceived notions (likely do to them initially fitting in better with the white, sassy, somewhat effeminate twink thats been plastered all over Hollywood as their “LGBT+ representation” for years. Gag), they can understand better, and only look for proof to back up their theories but don’t look at things objectively.

They really need to get out more and make some LGBT+ friends that aren’t on the internet and talk to some gay elders. They need educating that’s not the often sanitized and insulting Hollywood version, that’s all I’m saying.

They made Louis and Harry more palatable for themselves and its… really gross.

I don’t know, I don’t get it.

Some Larries ™ turned the boys into their fandom and fanfiction stereotypes when they’re so much more than that. The Sony leaks should have been enough to dissuade the fandom, and prove that the brand sold to the broader audience is just that- a brand, and yet… Niall only talks about food and golf and Ireland and is only allowed to be straight or ace. If he exists at all its just to be Capt Niall. Liams slow and dumb and depending on the day he’s either Capt Liam or a horrific abusive homophobe. Zayns just The Worst, a unstable drug addict, and the boys hate each other, and they should have kicked him out of the band sooner because he never wanted to be part of them anyway, etc.

It drives me absolutely around the bend some days. They’re real people who don’t owe anyone anything, especially not coming out.

Yes, I think they will. But they’re not obligated to. They can change their minds, I’ll support them regardless of an “official” coming out or not.

Look, a part of me gets it. They wanna be right, they wanna prove the haters wrong, they want to be able to say I called it all along! The vindication will be sweet.

But like, it takes a quick look at someone other than Louis and Harry to realize theres something hinky going on with Liam, Zayn and Niall. Please listen to their fans who have spent just as much time as you have looking into Louis and Harry compiling together evidence.

It might take a weekend to watch the ILYSM and pterodactyl bros videos and a few more hours looking into some Niall blogs, which isn’t much compared to the hours I know they’ve spent looking into Larry. At least then they’ll have enough information to form an opinion on things.

I wonder, for some, what would happen if Larry didn’t come out, or didn’t come out first, or one of the other boys was outed against their will. Because… I don’t know. It seems like some would rather just be proven right at this point.

I get it. We’re tired. Its been eleven long years. But this isn’t a television show were everything can come to a head with a s3 or s4 cliff hanger and fixed in the series finale. Its real life, and they started off as boys trusting industry veterans who never had their best interests at heart.

Iduno. I just want some Larries ™ to take a step out of the echo chamber, realize life isn’t The Larry Show & co. And especially. ESPECIALLY, that every instance were someone, friends, family, co-works, industry peeps etc support the boys they are SUPPORTING THE BOYS, NOT THE FANDOM. They are not “confirming Larry for the fans” they’re doing it to support the couple, not to cater to the fandom. Please stop confusing the two. There’s a huge fucking difference. Learn it.

#Honestly it should be the Liam Payne the three guys who’ve had a crush on him and the one who married him.#aka the hill I'll die on #lmao #sorry not sorry #IM SORRY IT LOOKS LIKE I HAD A LOT MORE TO SAY ABOUT THIS THAN I THOUGHT I WOULD #ASDFGHJKL;#also please don't think I'm calling anyone out specifically #these are a lot of generalizations and trends I've noticed after being in fandom for nearly 11 years they pop up all the damn time #circles we're just going in circles #I've been following Ziam in particular since the Nov 2011 interview #but suspected Liam had a crush sometime before when I saw a gifset of him talking about Zayns birthday presentsbc he as acting the exact sa #e way I was when I was crushing on a girl I knew #I saw myself in him and ignored it for another day #lmaooo #ziam #larry tunnel vision #larry vs ziam #Larry vs Niall #fandom bs #ask

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scribble-blog · 4 years

Text

Soulmate AU part 14!!!

First • Previous • Here • Next

“We’ve got a few minutes,” Abeille said as they sat on the roof of a nearby building. “Let’s have some fun while we’re sitting here! I don’t know- swing around a few buildings. Beat up some thugs. Gotham’s gotta have a few of those snooping about.”

“No, Abeille.” Marinette shot the idea down immediately. “It’s our first impression with them. They need to see us as real heroes, not a bunch of kids fooling around.”

“You’re no fun ever since you got back from your date with Wayne,” Chloé pouted, igniting Marinette’s sigh of- “yeah, yeah, no identity stuff. But still. Go on one afternoon outing and now you’ve got just as much of a stick up your ass as he did.”

“Maybe they traded out.” Adrien grinned at her, cat eyes brilliant in the darkness. “Somewhere, Damian Wayne is being fun and happy and probably shocking everyone who knows him. And we got stuck with grumpy pants over here.”

Marinette groaned. “I just want this to go well, guys. I don’t think we’ll have a second shot at reaching out for help like this-“ she cut off as movement caught her eyes. The building she’d been watching now had three figures atop it, small but silhouetted against the night sky. Quickly, one vanished just as quickly into shadow again.

“I think we’re up,” Marinette breathed to the other two. “Chat, you’ve got Trixx?”

The Kwami poked his head out. “I’m ready. Just say when.”

“Now,” Marinette ordered, and with the kwami’s power Chat flickered invisible. With a look at Chloé and the count of three, they both leapt from the building, making their way to Wayne Enterprises. She could hear Chat’s movement if she tried, but she was looking for it. She just hoped their arrival would mask his, and that he could hide well enough that they wouldn’t see him immediately when the illusion ran out.

The Wayne Building was tall, and Marinette bounded up it, propelled by her super strength and the retracting of her yo-yo, wrapped around some jutting piece of architecture at the top. Chloé was right beside her as they vaulted the edge, landing neatly on the rooftop, and she just barely heard the soft landing that indicated Adrien had made it. In sync with them, it was unnoticeable.

There were two heroes waiting for them. Red Robin again, who looked almost- excited to see them. And the other had to be Robin, with the red-green-yellow ensemble. She assumed immediately that the third figure had been Batman himself- and that they had been trying to play the exact same game as them, in bringing a hidden extra party. She kept herself from smirking. Reputation or no, they had magic to hide Adrien. And she already knew someone else on their side was there.

“You must be Ladybug. And Reine Abeille.” Red Robin started, voice warm and welcoming. It set Marinette off immediately. “I’m glad Miss Dupain-Cheng was able to set up this meeting for you. From what I’ve gathered, there’s been some pretty terrible things going on in Paris.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow. He’d known absolutely nothing about it last night. So he must have been doing his research in the intervening hours. What all had he found?

“Then you know about the magical terrorists, Hawkmoth and Mayura,” Marinette let her inner Ladybug out, her voice commanding.

“Well, not so much,” Red Robin tilted his head, and Marinette suddenly pinned it in her mind: this was some sort of- gimmick. A test? They wanted to see how much she’d just go spilling to them. “There isn’t much that makes it onto accessible news sources. Everything I know comes straight from your LadyBugOut App.”

“Tt. The app barely tells us anything, Red Robin. For all we know, they could be playing us for fools.” Robin leaned away from his casual, dismissive stance on the wall, in towards them. “Why should we believe you when the only proof you have is your own word and videos that could have been created and edited by you?”

As he stood up and walked closer, Marinette felt anger thrumming in her veins. So this was their strategy- one of them open and ready to listen and believe, the other derogatory and making them angry so they revealed more than they wanted to. “I suppose when you put it like that, the evidence doesn’t hold up,” She said coldly. “But if you wish, I also suppose I could bring you back to Paris and wait a bit. Proof comes just about once a day now, and the last akuma was almost twenty hours ago.”

The boy didn’t answer her, but under his mask she could practically feel the weight of his disinterest and disbelief, whether or not it was an act to pry information from her.

“No need for anything like that,” Red Robin soothed.

“No,” Abeille cut him off. “I think there is a need. We didn’t come here to be baited for information by you. If you want to know something, ask. But don’t play games and don’t try to trick us. We’ll pull our third out of hiding, if you want to bring your other two members up here and actually talk to us.”

“Two?” Red Robin gaped. “But-“

Marinette gazed at him coolly as he floundered. If Chloé was bluffing, she’d bluffed wrong. But both her senses and Chat’s were a bit higher strung than hers...

She said, “Chat?” And out of the darkness her partner sprang, vaulting off the roof and returning half a moment later with Red Hood clutched beside. As he did so, Batman slunk out of whatever corner of shadow he’d hidden in, and immediately Chat separated himself.

“That’s what I thought,” Chloé smirked, and Marinette turned back to Red Robin, who’s face was open and bemused, and Robin, whose face didn’t give nearly so much away. But all of the hostility that had been there before had melted away, so she felt it prudent to stop glaring.

“Now, if we could all behave like adults and actually discuss the situation in Paris,” Chat Noir dusted himself off. “It’s getting late, and this cat has a nap he’d like to get back to.”

“Late?” Red Hood looked up at the sky, which had only just lost the last color from dusk. There weren’t any stars.

“In Paris,” Marinette said dryly. “We’re a bit ahead of you.”

“Tell us about Hawkmoth,” Batman ordered, and she felt herself almost snap to attention. The man had a voice that made you want to listen, funnily enough for his seemingly reclusive nature as a vigilante.

“We’ve been fighting him for four years now,” Marinette started. “Our abilities are powered by the jewelry we wear- called the Miraculous- and Hawkmoth has two that we believe were stolen at least ten years ago, but it is quite possible that he has possessed them for longer. The Butterfly Broach gives him the ability to find people with large amounts of emotion- he generally targets those who are sad or angry- and he turns them into monstrous versions of the victims called Akuma. His partner, Mayura, uses the Peacock broach. It grants a similar ability, but it is able to transform items and not people into Sentimonsters that usually assist the Akumas Hawkmoth creates. She appears much less frequently, and her monsters are less reliable- they’ll disappear before battles are over, without warning.”

“And what do they want?” Robin asked, face hard.

She faced him again. “Hawkmoth’s ultimate goal is to claim both mine and Chat Noir’s Miraculous. They grant us, individually, the powers of Destruction and Creation. With the two combined, he would be able to rewrite the world in any way his heart desires- which is terrible enough, but each wish also comes with a severe price. The kind of price that once started the Black Plague, or sank Atlantis into the Sea.”

“He could rewrite history, crown himself King of everything, and then the world might split in two to balance it out or something?” Red Hood chuckled. “Kid, pull the other one.”

He was met with three faces of stone.

“We have watched Paris burn.” Chat said coldly, voice like ice. “We have watched it’s people drown. The whole city, reduced to rubble, people enslaved by the whims of this madman. Maybe, at the beginning, we laughed it off like you did. But this- monster- has attacked people for years, with no repercussions, and it is only by the grace of my Lady’s Miraculous Cure that Paris still exists.”

“Each time he does this- each time someone dies in battle, each time the Eiffel Tower is obliterated, each time we have to usher our people into safe houses and subways so they don’t have to see the bodies and the destruction-“ Abeille shook her head. “Each time could be the time he wins. Each time could be the time Ladybug can’t cast the Cure. Each time is another layer of proof that no matter what he wishes for, Hawkmoth could never wish for anything that wouldn’t be hurting someone, in some way, that he would never care or even think about.”

“And the Wish itself, Monsieur Hood,” Marinette took up, “is as ruthless as it is fair. Balance between luck and misfortune, between good and bad, between creation and destruction is the balance the fate of our world relies on. One man’s wish for a successful harvest after several lean years resulted in the eruption of Vesuvius and the destruction of Pompeii. With what Hawkmoth has shown he is willing to do- I would not trust him with these jewels if he were the last living hands on earth to place them into.”

The three heroes watched, silent, as their words sank in to the stunned vigilantes of Gotham.

TAGLIST:

@the-fusionist @rebecarojas07 @lowandco @kotaleartzu @resignedcatservant @alenee13 @mystery-5-5 @ladybug-182 @actual-disaster-human @loysydark @rumbelle18 @magic-miraculous @vixen-uchiha @athena452 @mochegato @ash-amg @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @thestressmademedoit @sassakitty @doriebell @toodaloo-kangaroo @myazael @theatreandcomicfreak @mer-mel @dahjokester @northernbluetongue @abrx2002 @area51qt @jessigurl-design @renscorpio @cici-schnee @multplelifes @redscarlet95 @razzledazzle247 @rosep16 @emotionalsupportginger @kceedraws @tired-butterfly @kuroko26 @catthhay @moonystars14 @shamefullove @shreky-boi @imanerddealwith @chaosace @captainmac6 @purple-people-eaters-productions @crazylittlemunchkin @weird-pale-blonde-person @bigpicklebananatree

#maribat #daminette #daminette soulmates #soulmate au #fanfic

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cherrywoes · 3 years

Text

i. the girl in the foxes’ den.

chapter one. queen of shiratorizawa.

a/n: dedicated to @godjo because reasons :’)

WHALE BONE HUGGED TIGHTLY at your ribcage, the silk ribbons of your corset pinching and pulling all of your body’s fat into your waist to the point where you could barely breathe past the stays. Bent over your vanity, fingers gripping the painted wood so firmly that your knuckles went white, you exhaled a shaky breath and pushed all of the air from your lungs as the maid pulled a final time. Tears squeezed past your lashes when she finished, adding an additional jerk to knot the bow tightly. You remained over the vanity even when she departed to your closet to retrieve a dress for you to wear for the evening, your breaths shallow and uneven. With each tiny inhale, you watched your chest—pushed past decent and bordering on obscene with the aid of extra fabric—rise and fall, and felt a red flush creep up your neck from the exertion.

“Your Highness, your dress for the morning.” You watched the maid lay a gorgeous gown upon the crushed velvet duvet on your bed through the mirror, the rich purple appearing like ripples of waves under the rays of sunlight peeking through your window. She patted it down and turned to face you, hands clasped primly in front of her like all the maids were taught, docile as if she hadn’t just forced you into a corset that was a few sizes too small for you. She’d dug that monstrosity out from your prepubescent teenage years and insisted you would fit into it. “You will be meeting with Sister Yui to discuss the rising number of—”

“I’m aware of what my schedule is,” you interrupted her, struggling to straighten your shoulders out to their fullest potential. There was an odd stiffness in your spine from the corset and you tried to appear as natural as possible, relaxing your abdominal muscles against the tight space. “What I want to know is news from my brother. Has there been any word from either he or Tendou?”

The maid had the nerve to shake her head and look disappointed for you rather than at you. You were offended that she had the gall to do it in front of you as well. “I’m afraid not, my lady. None of the messengers have been moved since yesterday.”

You stared at your face in the mirror and patted delicately at the perspiration dotting your forehead with a silk handkerchief. The room was hot—perhaps it was just you—and you were irritated. First with the maid, who had some spine on her to pity you, and now with your brother’s apparent lack of communication with the messengers. If Wakatoshi wasn’t seriously hurt, you were going to rip him a new one for ignoring all of your letters and indirectly putting you in charge of managing his affairs while he was away.

“Very well then.” Squinting in the mirror, you plucked at a stray hair near your eyebrow and fueled all of your inner rage into a placid mask of complacency and politeness. They should bow down on the ground and worship you for the effort it took to deal with the foolish people milling about you like clockwork. It certainly was an exhausting endeavor on its own. “And the harpies that are eating my breakfast on the veranda?”

The maid looked at you with quick, wide eyes. You just barely caught it in the mirror, loosely plucking at hairs that weren’t there, and lowered your hand to the vanity with a smug smile. You’d thought as much; it was far too quiet inside the palace for it to be just you and the staff present. There was someone else here, a multitude of someones, ones you hadn’t invited yourself. No, it was more likely that the woman who envisioned herself as Wakatoshi’s future Queen had invited herself and her entourage and simultaneously manipulated the entire staff into serving her as if she was the Queen. You could see the truth of it in the maid’s face.

You sighed and set down the tweezers in your hand, drumming your fingers against the vanity. Since you were already in a corset, there was no reason for you to make the torture you’d gone through worthless in the end, so you couldn’t wear one of the foreign dresses with gaping slashes from neck to navel just to shock them, but you had another plan in mind, one that would be equally as shocking, especially for a princess of your renown. You just had to show that try-hard Duke’s daughter what she would be competing against for the rest of her life: you.

For it to work, though… Your eyes went to the maid through the mirror again, contemplative, and she squirmed under your gaze. You needed the trust of the staff, which was obviously being swindled in that Duke’s daughter’s favor—they were all stupidly gullible when someone turned on the water works and begged for their help. No, you needed to get rid of her and do this on your own, or else they would warn them in advance.

“Leave,” you said airily, waving your hand towards the door and picking up a livid red shade of lipstick. The gold, spherical case cast your reflection back at you, as pristine as the day it had been gifted to you by the heir of the Haiba family, a famous producer of cosmetics among royalty. You were sure that Lev wouldn’t mind if you used his precious formula to put a gold digger in her place.

“I’m sorry?” The maid squeaked, then amended,”Your Highness?”

You turned around and raised your eyebrows, lipstick in one hand and the other pointing to the door. She just indirectly proved that she was obeying that bitch’s orders and not yours. “I told you to leave. Do I really need to repeat myself?”

“M-My Lady—”

“I said go,” you repeated, sauntering over to your fireplace and removing the sword mounted over it. It had been a gift from Wakatoshi, as avid a swordsman as ever, and still had a sharp edge to its blade. You had used it to cut off greedy fingers on more than one occasion and you had no issue with using it on a disrespectful maid’s face for questioning you.

She was gone before you even fully turned around. You heard her footsteps thumping against the marble floor in your room and outside the door, then down the hall, presumably to report to her new mistress how awful you were. Of course, your reputation as a meek, docile, and pacifistic woman was indestructible—no one would believe her even if she had solid proof. You and Wakatoshi had spread that little rumor yourselves, backed it up in public and in private, so no one would think twice about it, especially coming from a maid who had a lot to gain from slandering nobles.

This was how you worked. This was how Wakatoshi wanted you to work—to protect yourself from anyone who might wish to harm you or the kingdom. One wrong move and you could drag them down to the darkest pits of hell with no way to get out, wishing they were dead but completely at your mercy. You were Shiratorizawa’s trump card, their magnum opus; one wrong move against you was one wrong move against the entire kingdom.

And Kurotsuchi Yui had just made one disastrous move against you.

You had to admit, your plan would certainly raise eyebrows, but you were highly known for your adventures into fashion—it was all you wanted to do besides crush your enemies into smithereens—and, well, it wasn’t as if there weren’t more progressive kingdoms who wore equally as daring clothing in their day to day life. Shiratorizawa wasn’t one of them, but if you set your mind to it… It may just play a double edged sword.

Your plan cemented in your mind, you skipped over to your closet and immediately sought out your riding pants in the mess of silk, chiffon, and muslin. They were high quality, form hugging, and absolutely impolite to wear in normal company if you weren’t riding for the day, but it wasn’t as if you weren’t riding later on; you’d just have to ride your own horse to the orphanage instead of taking a carriage. It wasn’t something to complain about, your muscles needed the workout anyways. Desk work was so gentle on the body, Wakatoshi complained, and you seconded that thought.

Your riding pants secured, you scoured your closet for that one blouse you had been gifted by a notorious lingerie designer down in the red district during your routine checks to make sure everyone was abiding by the new tax laws in place. It had been so scandalous that you had tossed it in your trunk without a second thought, face flaming red (this was also when you were younger, you would have never been so ashamed if it were recent). But now, you were going to put it to good use, and you prayed it still looked like it would fit.

Pulling it out from the almost back of your closet, hidden behind absolute mammoth dresses from a time of ballgowns and petticoats, you grinned at your triumphant discovery, marveling in the delicate lace hem and high collar. It was as gorgeous as you remembered it and the perfect weapon to teach Yui a lesson.

Only… You stared at the collar of the shirt and the deep identical slashes in the arms to expose your shoulders, as well as cutouts in the sides to flash your hips to the world. Isn’t it a little too revealing?

It was too late now to back out of your plan, however. You had at least another twenty minutes before breakfast was over and the women scattered to various parts of the castle to conduct their own little ‘tours’ as if they were supposed to be there. You left your hair alone, as it was fine after running a brush through it, and only wore the smallest amount of makeup because you had an impression to make. Wakatoshi had told you that you looked intimidating when you wore a full face of make-up and wondered what your eagle form would be if you ever got it.

As you got dressed, you had to wonder if you would ever get your eagle form at all. Wakatoshi had gotten his at an early age, but that was typical for the men in your family. The women got theirs around eighteen or so, but you had yet to get yours, already in your twenties. You’d always wanted to experience the joy of flying, hearing stories from soldiers about how it felt to soar through the skies, and while Wakatoshi was more than happy to take you flying, it just wasn’t the same. It was your only disappointment to your mother in your entire life, one she never got over even on her deathbed. Your father was more considerate about it, having been born outside of Shiratorizawa, and treated you like he treated Wakatoshi: like his child. Your mother was not so kind.

You tugged the shirt over your head and let it settle over your body in a rush of fabric. It was tight and form fitting, not what you had expected from it off of the hanger, and somehow held the high collar in place. You couldn’t actually see the corset through it or the gaps in the sides, but you could tell you were wearing one by the way your chest was supported. Overall, it looked new, like you’d intended, and the complete opposite of the trends going on at the moment. If you could turn the tides, that would be just another thing to rub in Yui’s face.

Content with your choice, you tugged on your riding boots and strode out the door, snatching up your riding crop and leather gloves on the way out. You pulled your gloves on as you walked down the hall, clenching and unclenching your fists to break in the slightly new leather. There were no guards or maids in sight as you sauntered down the hallways; you could make out the faint laughter coming from the veranda, each high pitched cackle sounding suspiciously like Yui. Her laugh reminded you of a duck; cuck, cuck, cuck in the back of her throat, never from her chest, and it irritated both you and Wakatoshi whenever you heard it in polite company.

When you stepped out onto the veranda, you realized where all of your guards and maids had vanished to. They stood catering Kurotsuchi Yui and her group of crones, guarding them as if there was some threat to be had against their person, the only one of which was you if you could get your hands around one of their pretty little necks.

“And then I—Oh!” Yui noticed you as she was doing a cursory sweep of the women to make sure they were laughing along with her. The slight trepidation that crept in her voice had you smiling internally; you were the one in charge with Wakatoshi gone. “[Name], I didn’t think you were going to join us. I thought you had joined King Ushijima on his scouting retinue.”

That was an awful excuse and she knew it. There was always an Ushijima at Shiratorizawa when one was away, even a fool knew that. She was digging for crumbs of a reason and failing.

“Of course I wasn’t,” you blinked innocently. You took the only empty chair at the other end of the table, across from Yui at the head, and crossed your legs to rest your riding crop over your knee. “I don’t know where you got that idea from. I also don’t know where you got the idea that you’re welcome here.”

The girls sitting around Yui squirmed in their seats while Yui herself fumed.

“I’m the future Queen,” she informed, red flushing into her cheeks. “Everyone says so.”

“Do they really?” You deadpanned, reaching over and snatching up a piece of fruit from a platter. It was from the royal garden, an even greater offense; she was being served like a royal in the family. Your mother was rolling over in her grave at the slight. “It makes no difference to me because in the end, you’ll never be queen if I have a say in it. And you know I do, Yui.”

She was completely silent, glowering at you from across the table because she knew you were right.

“Anyway.” You tilted a glass of wine around, watching the dark red liquid swirl against the sides. “All of the maids who are here, you’re fired. Gather your things immediately and make your way to the royal gold minister and get your last pay. Knights, return to the barracks and switch out with the Elite Knights under the conception of manipulation.”

With that, you had effectively upped the rigidity of the palace and simultaneously stripped Yui of all of her support and backing in one fell swoop, just like an Ushijima should. She was shaking with anger when the maids and knights began their melancholy walk back inside the palace to make their way to their respective areas.

“It was nice seeing you, Yui.” You stood up and smiled, gathering your riding crop and turning towards the building where your horse was being housed. “Hopefully I don’t have to see you again.”

The threat underlying it went unsaid: you would do worse next time.

Laughter bubbling up in your throat, you bit your lips and made your way to the stalls, the stablehand saddling up your gorgeous Perlino mare that Wakatoshi had gotten you for your fifteenth birthday. She was vicious and maternal and the best friend a girl could ask for; she had a slight biting issue with men, but that wasn’t something you felt like fixing. If anything, you encouraged it, relishing in the shocked expressions of the men who tried to impress you by showing you how to ‘handle’ a horse. It was the highlight of your day.

As you were riding towards the orphanage, a pair of Elite Knights at your side, you looked up in the sky and spotted an unusual number of eagle shifters soaring through the clouds at a breakneck pace. Assuming it was just Wakatoshi returning from his trip, you looked back down and focused on heading to the orphanage, unaware of the world shattering news that they carried with them…

And the announcement of the new Queen of Shiratorizawa.

MASTERLIST.

< PROLOGUE | TWO >

#miya atsumu x reader x miya osamu #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x female reader #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x female reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyū!!

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