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mrwinterr · 4 years

Text

Happy

Pairing: Rockstar!Bucky Barnes AU x Female Reader

Summary: You meet your favorite artist and get more than what you bargained for.

Warnings: Smut 18+ (consensual and protected sex, oral [male and female receiving], vaginal fingering, belly bulge, light degradation) dirty talk/language and recording. Mentions of drugs and alcohol and a tiny bit of angst.

Disclaimer: I don’t smoke regularly, so anything that has to do with drugs mentioned are techniques I’ve outweighed based on what I’ve been taught by different people. I don’t know which method works best nor am I encouraging the activity. It just came with this fic’s territory. It’s not that deep. You do you, boo.

Title Inspiration: “Happy” by The Maine

A/N: I might or might not have based some of this on true events. All I can say is, life is short, shoot your shot! Enjoy!

A/N #2: There’s a Part 2 now!

“You owe me.” Your friend next to you said for probably the third time this hour. You learned earlier in the day to tune her out. She had been saying that since you persuaded her to accompany you on the weekend long road trip to the neighboring state just so you could see your favorite band…again.

Growing up your parents thought this was just another phase, but as your teenaged years passed on by and you’re now well into adulthood, you’re still a bigger stan for The Avengers as ever.

The Avengers consisted of three members: Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. Everyone had their take on each of the guys, Steve was the nice one, Sam was the goofy one and Bucky was the bad one. It was silly. They weren’t *NSYNC or The Backstreet Boys, but the fangirls will be fangirls.

Their music wasn’t exactly mainstream, but they did very well within in their genre’s scene. They graced the covers of a couple of magazines, garnered thousands, close to millions, of views and streams online, were featured on TV every now and then, toured around the globe, sold a bunch of records, even independently, but despite all that notoriety, they stayed true to their sound and that’s what kept you around as a fan.

That and the band’s front man Bucky Barnes.

He was hot – plain and simple. Ok, maybe he was just that to most, including your friend who couldn’t deny it, but you didn’t want to objectify the man. What their music had done to get you through the years, they were more than that. There was a level of respect there. You also didn’t buy into the “bad boy” gimmick the fans have dubbed for him. They were human beings just like the rest of us. Imagine being called something like that by the public? They just so happened to be fortunate enough to share their talent to the rest of the world.

“You’ve already seen them. I don’t know why you think you need to for what a tenth time?” She clearly wasn’t amused by your infatuation with the band, but she was still your friend and she would always be by your side through thick and thin even if she didn’t have the same taste in music as you. You loved her for that. Who else would stand for hours in a dark room full of loud, sweaty, smelly, rude even, and sometimes drunk people with no self-control for you? She really was the real MVP.

And she was right though. You’ve already seen The Avengers perform. It was probably more, but you’ve lost count. Whenever they’re in your city or two to four hours in the next one over, you loved this band alright!

You both were polar opposites standing next to each other in line waiting for the venue doors to open. She was calm and still, arms crossed with an unamused look on her face – she could almost play as the “mom that tagged along and didn’t want to be there” – but you knew she wasn’t really mad. There was a bar inside she could occupy herself at. You on the other hand were trying to contain your excitement. You tried your best to not fidget around in anticipation so much. You didn’t want to sweat off your makeup that you managed to apply on point or get an embarrassing stain on your clothes.

“It doesn’t matter,” was always the response you gave her, “their music means everything to me. I’ll always come out to support them.”

She playfully rolled her eyes and scoffed a bit at that. She wasn’t trying to knock you down. She knew you deeply liked the band, but she also knew another side of you, and she liked to pick at it. “Yeah that and you’re into Bucky,” she said and just flat out poked at the side of your breasts. The bra that you chose to purposely wear tonight gave your boobs an extra push and it didn’t go unnoticed by her. They were out there, tastefully, since you were hardly the flashy type.

“Okay, but who isn’t?” You flare back swatting her hand away and trying to shut her down. You didn’t need to have this conversation with her while other fans were around. You didn’t want to sound like a fangirl. You weren’t 13 anymore.

“Chill.” She said raising her hands up in surrender. She wasn’t going to fight you on this one again.

When the top of the hour hit, the roar of the crowd signaled the doors had opened. Once inside, you hit the line to the bathroom considering you’d been outside for a few hours. You didn’t just have to pee, but you needed to freshen up. Your cheeks were a bit flushed from standing in the heat. You dabbed lightly at your face with a small blotting sheet, sprayed a bit of body spray and finished putting every hair back into place before finding your friend, who was already at the bar.

You sported a 21 and up paper wristband that was handed at the entrance, however you weren’t planning on drinking. Usually you had one or two drinks at most, but you were assuming you would be the designated driver tonight. You just always flashed your ID to the bouncer for the wristband to emphasize that you were of age. Unfortunately, some bands have had a bad reputation of fooling around with underaged girls, who lied about it.

She held up her drink to you with a smile on her face. Yeah, you were going to be the one driving back to the hotel, but at least she’s happy. She tried to coax you into ordering a drink of your own, but you only shook your head at her nonsense and stood away from the crowd.

As an avid concert goer, you’ve been to enough shows that you’d been in every section of the crowd. Hell, you’ve even gone crowd surfing before! Plus, you couldn’t hang with those vicious and hormonal fans in the crowd anymore, so you learned to enjoy the show from the back with a full view.

The opening bands were decent. You’d never heard of them, one was probably local, but you always believed live music was just as good, if not, better than opposed to being recorded and remastered at a studio.

During their sets, you caved and bought a drink from the bar, hoping it’d help to pass the time before the headliners came on. Your friend was seemingly on her phone when a random guy approached you asking if he could buy you a drink. The house lights were on. Did he not see the can of beer in your hands? You politely declined his offer and further advances until he gave up and walked away.

“Girl. He was cute!” Your friend said shoving you lightly.

“I wasn’t interested,” you shrug and taking a swig of your drink.

“You’re not being fair,” she started and seeing that you weren’t catching on continued, “you can’t wait around hoping that one day Bucky will notice you. Honey, he came here to play a show and make money not look for a girlfriend.” Okay, maybe that was a bit harsh, bursting your bubble like that and all, but her intentions were good. Bucky Barnes just set the standards too high.

She wasn’t wrong. Guys like Bucky meet new people every day, met girls probably way prettier than you. The majority of their fans were female because let’s face it, the guys had sex appeal and you know what they say…sex sells.

Looking around the venue, you took in the kinds of girls you were going up against. There was a mixture of women of different backgrounds and sizes decked out in different styles, but the ones who won most of the time were the ones that looked good dressed in risqué clothing and heels. Some of them probably even wore less make-up than you or none at all. You couldn’t understand how it was effortless for some people.

It wasn’t that you had low self-esteem. You had your fair share of internal struggle, so sometimes your insecurity played its part. You had your good days and you had your bad days.

You decided upon wearing something simple that you would be comfortable in while still serving a look. And the only other significant thing you did to your make-up was add in a little more shimmer. Yeah you wanted to impress, not sell your soul to the devil.

“Okay, but I just really wasn’t interested,” you said again hoping she’d understand. She did, aware you wrestled with that demon in your head always taunting and ridiculing you that you could look better when you’re perfect just the way you are. With an added bonus of telling you that Bucky was missing out if he hasn’t noticed you already, she ordered another drink in time before the lights dimmed and ear-piercing screams erupted to alert that The Avengers finally took the stage to headline the show.

Like each of the shows you’d previously attended, they were amazing. They poured their hearts out with each beat and belt. Every lyric resonated with you so deeply. There was just so much raw emotion packed into their performance. The beauty of concerts was that they were designed to let you forget about all the bullshit happening in the world for a few hours. They were therapeutic for you.

If you hadn’t known any better, you’d say your friend secretly liked The Avengers’ music because she broke you out of your shell and had you swaying along with her to their songs…that or it was the alcohol taking over her. You didn’t fight it and you allowed yourself to let loose.

You tried to give each member equal attention, watching them as they played, but you couldn’t help but keep your eyes on Bucky the most. They were just trained on him. His cheeky smile and onstage presence were electric. The mere sight of him, all sweaty as his clothes stuck to his skin accentuating his toned body so well, all but had you shuffling trying to ease your body’s frustration and mind.

The only time you looked away was when you swore you thought he looked at you. Making eye contact with someone on stage was kind of awkward sometimes, but with him it was almost intimidating. Believing he was probably staring at the girl behind you, you downed the rest of your drink, pushed that thought away and tried to enjoy the rest of the show.

A full set of songs that showcased their albums and a two-song encore later, you were driving yourself and your buzzed friend back to your hotel room. It wasn’t that far from the venue, electing to stay within its vicinity. Upon entering the room, you tossed the shirt you bought at the merch booth on your bed before removing your leather jacket while she face-planted down on her bed, arms wide open, letting out an exaggerated sigh of relief. You couldn’t blame her. It felt great to rest right after standing on your feet for hours.

Your back rested against the headboard, you knocked your boots and socks off a while ago and had your bare feet up on your bed. You hadn’t changed out of the rest of your clothes or even wiped off your make-up yet. Instead, you sat there skimming through the timelines of your social media accounts while you waited for your friend to get out of the shower.

You had posted a few photos and videos of the night to your story, like your outfit, a few of you and your friend sightseeing, and of The Avengers’ set. You refreshed your timeline and noticed Bucky’s account pop up before everyone else that you followed. It’s no surprise that you were following them on social media. You liked seeing them share the personal moments of their lives. They used to be interactive with their fans. Bucky had even once commented on the old photo you had with the band years ago.

You met them after a show when they were just starting out with their first full-length album debuting that summer. Now, they hardly came out because all it took was one crazed fan to ruin it for everyone else. Their popularity sometimes deemed it unsafe for venues to let them stick around so late, restricting them from meeting their fans.

You click on Bucky’s account and go through his story. There was one of a view of the open road from their tour bus, a clip of a song he liked, a cryptic quote with a deep underlying meaning to it, him getting ready to go on stage and then of the show.

He had taken a photo of the crowd towards the end of the set, asked fans to tag themselves if they could, because the crowd was amazing…as if they didn’t say that in every town they played in.

His caption read: “Awesome crowd tonight! Probably our best show yet!” topped with how much he loved the city. Sometimes you wanted to reply to his posts like he was one of your friends, but then you second guessed yourself knowing he’d never see the message, or he would and just ignore it because he was busy. You knew it was a long shot, but what did you have to lose and what is it that they said these days? Shoot your shot.

You didn’t linger on the body of the message for too long, settling with a “Great show tonight! You guys were amazing as always! :)” hitting send and closing out the app thinking it would conceal any embarrassment that might come out of it. It was a ridiculous thought.

After surfing through the channels of the TV and picking at the food you had delivered to your room, your phone pinged. You saw that it was a notification from your social media account, but once your face unlocked the phone and the subject appeared, you nearly choked on the drink you were sipping on.

Bucky Barnes sent you a message.

Your heart pathetically started beating really fast. The phone almost slipped from your hands as you opened up the toxic app again to read what he said. He probably just sent you an emoji or something.

“Thanks for coming out.”

That was it. Okay, what did you except? A proposal. That was a fair response. He probably had some downtime and was able to reply to people. You couldn’t be that special…but thinking you could strike gold again, you started typing up a response.

“Of course! Will always be out there to support you guys! Hope the city treats you well and have a safe rest of the tour.” Yeah, that was a good one. You say to yourself thinking that would be the end of it…except it wasn’t.

“Appreciate it. You know of any good spots around here?”

Nope. You did not. Do you look up some recommendations for him? No, that’s too much. Great, you’re having a conversation with him through DMs and you can’t even genuinely contribute enough to hold it down.

“No, not really. I’m not from here actually. My friend and I drove here just to catch the show. Maybe YELP?” Shit. You just might’ve effectively got rid of him with turning him to the Internet instead.

“No way! That’s love. Good thinking.” They came through in separate text bubbles.

Why were guys so short? You couldn’t work with that. You thought about it for a while but came up with nothing, so you sent the sassy ‘girl sticking her hand out’ emoji as a reply. Damn, you were really bad at this.

Several minutes passed by and thinking you were really done with him; you got another message. It was Bucky again and he sent you a photo. It was from your own feed; the group photo of you and his band mates all those years ago.

“I thought I recognized you.” You sat up straight as you read that message over and over, eyes bugging. Thankful your friend was taking her sweet time in the bathroom, so she wouldn’t see you all strung up.

What? There’s no way. That was a long time ago. Your thoughts spiraled at his words that had you blushing. He’s pulling your chain.

“Impossible. That was forever ago!” I guess two could play this game then.

“I swear. You tripped and fell into my arms that night.”

What the hell? He actually remembered that? Yeah, that did indeed happen. You had been waiting outside surrounded by a bunch of other chatty girls, pushing and shoving their way to get to Bucky first. By the time he turned to you and you stepped forward, you lost your footing and fell straight onto him. He played it cool, but then you heard Sam, who was trapped in his own circle of girls, signing and taking pictures away, that Bucky has girls falling for him all the time.

“OMG. That was so embarrassing, and I was so awkward!” You couldn’t even speak to him when you managed to hold your own ground. You were young then, you thought you effectively put that behind you.

“You weren’t awkward! You were cute and that’s what has stuck with me since. One of the most memorable moments.”

Yup, he was definitely pulling your chain. While you were ecstatic that you were interacting with your favorite artist, you couldn’t help but wonder why you. He was a public figure and you were just a fan.

“Is this weird?” Came through as his next message after your silence.

Oh, no. I hope I didn’t offend him. You might as well tell it like it is and get it off your chest.

“I don’t know...just a bit. Probably because I’m just a fan? I feel like you should be careful. I mean I should be too…” You really did wonder though. How was it that people of his status were willing and freely open to people they barely knew only to get threatened of being leaked and blackmailed by their own nudes or messages? What made them trust the other party so easily with that kind of stuff? They couldn’t be that dumb. Well, you got your answer.

“I don’t think of you or anyone as just a fan, but you are right…at the same time I feel that you’re grounded enough and a good person that we can trust each other. If that makes sense.”

You weren’t sure if it did. He still didn’t really know you.

“Awe, well that’s really flattering. I totally understand that because that’s how I feel.” Did you? There was a pause between that message and the next that would come.

“What’s your cell?”

Really? It was just that easy? Oh, okay then. Nonetheless, you still gave him your number. The DMs stopped and transferred over to text messages. You have Bucky Barnes’ phone number. What fan fic were you living in? Shit like this doesn’t just happen, does it?

The texts between you and Bucky went back and forth, some playful and some slightly suggestive, but you were completely oblivious to them thinking that was just in his nature. You found out the band was staying in for the night before heading back out on the road tomorrow afternoon off to the next city. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath when you stared at his most recent text asking if you wanted to hang out. It was kind of late, but you didn’t get a guy like Bucky Barnes asking you to hang out on the regular.

“Are you alright?” Your friend questioned breaking your train of thoughts. You could see her from your peripheral that she was towel drying the ends of her hair even though you’re still staring at your phone.

“Bucky sent me a DM inviting me to his hotel room.” You answered in a stoic demeanor, but it felt really strange coming out of your mouth.

“Okay. How long was I in the shower?” Your friend asked with her hands on her hips wanting an explanation.

You recount the details and show her the messages you and Bucky had been sending to each other. She scrolled through each of them and you could see the look of apprehension forming on her face.

“I don’t know,” she said her words trailing before giving you a worried look, “shouldn’t you be the slightest bit concerned?”

“About?” You ask taking your phone back from her.

“All of this!” She exclaimed her arms outstretched in exasperation and not understanding why you were so blinded by Bucky. “You briefly met the guy, years ago might I add, and you decide it’s okay to meet him at his hotel room in a city you don’t even live in?”

Alright, it did raise a couple of red flags, but you were a consenting adult and you lived a life of being cautious and in fear a little too much you wanted to be reckless for at least one night.

“I know you’re only looking after me, but I got to go for it. You know I like him! Sure, I may not know him on a personal level, but I’m allowed to have some fun, right?” You try reasoning with her. Just how different was all this compared to what people around the world were already doing with each other anyways?

She was a bit skeptic before reluctantly agreeing and letting you go but with the promise from you to be careful, share your location and his room number with her just in case she needed to save you or come after him. You thanked her for understanding and assured her that you’d be back before check-out in the morning.

On the drive to his hotel room, you thought about how you always imagined the different scenarios of what it’d be like when you’d ever meet Bucky again. What things you’d do differently or say. How you’d make sure to not trip or do something to embarrass yourself the next time. How you’d be more confident.

Parking was a pain in any city’s downtown, you ended up having to pay for parking twice in one night. Not surprising to you, they stayed in a nice hotel. It wasn’t over-the-top nor was it fancy, but it was definitely clean and a slight step up than of what was in your budget for booking a room.

When you’re finally at his door, you wonder if you were going to be catfished. Were there other people in his room? Were you really that special? Fuck it. Was the final thought, putting an end to the rest, and knocked at his door.

You hear a click and sliding of the chain door unlock, then you’re face-to-face with Bucky. He’s dressed down in sweats and a zip-up hoodie. He shoots you a smile and steps aside for you to come inside, there wasn’t much light offered to illuminate the room other than the ones the lamps attached on the wall between the beds and what little the TV could provide.

“Oh, thank God. You’re real.” Motherfucker. Did you really just say that?

Bucky laughed at that and you explained, honest with him, that this whole thing just felt surreal. He nodded in agreement, offering to take your jacket from you and a drink. It was alcoholic. Not denying him, you accepted it and waited to see what he would do next.

You watch him sit down on the king-sized bed with his feet up, one foot over the other. You’re standing there next to the dresser that also served as a stand for the TV he was watching a random show on. Not sure what to do, you set the drink aside, kick off your boots, leaving them next to the luggage rack, and sit on the spot next to him with a considerable amount of distance between your bodies.

It’s quiet and you’re trying to hush the voices in your head. Did he really invite you to just watch TV with him? Is this awkward for him? Oh, no. He’s going to realize I’m boring.

You feel the bed shift and you see Bucky is leaning over, opposite of you, to grab something from the nightstand. You don’t see much of what he’s doing as your view was blocked by his large back. When he changes positions, a brief spark of a flame emits from his hands. Your eyes trail up from his hands to his lips and notice it was a blunt. You were pretty sure this was a non-smoking room, but it wasn’t under your name, so it didn’t really matter in the end.

Of course, he did that kind of stuff. It was part of the lifestyle to be exposed to it. He took a steady hit and you watched as he exhaled slowly, a cloud of smoke disappearing into the air in front of him.

“Want a hit?” He asked passing and offering you the blunt.

It’d been a while since you last smoked anything. You tried it a few times and even then, you didn’t think you did it right. You stare at the neatly rolled blunt in between his thumb and forefinger, but not too long as to not let it go to waste and ash up all over the bed.

You steadily take it from him and carefully attempt to take a puff. Wrong. That puff was anything but steady. Not realizing how close you were actually sitting next to Bucky, when you tried to exhale you ended up coughing – terribly. Bucky’s face scrunches up as he braces for the impact of white smoke to hit his face.

“Oh my God,” you say covering your mouth in disbelief, but it was a bad idea because your body didn’t like that, and you ended up coughing even harder.

“I’m so sorry,” you manage to get out in between your coughing fit while passing him back the blunt and trying your best to waft at the smoke. Well, if you thought your first encounter with Bucky was embarrassing. This had to take the cake. It wasn’t proper etiquette to blow smoke in the other person’s face.

He waves it off letting you know that it wasn’t a big deal before taking another hit. He even begins to give you a few pointers to inhale in increments, until you get used to the smoke. You don’t even notice the long looks Bucky gives you hit after hit. You take a second to let the smoke stay in your mouth before you give it a second inhale, letting it process through your system before gently exhaling. It was a lot of fucking steps to remember.

“Don’t try to put too much emphasis into the exhalation,” he said as he watches you take another hit, almost perfecting it and with each puff and pass being deeper and longer than the previous, “see, you’re getting the hang of it!” He whimsically lifts his hand up for a high-five that you softly pat in return, but he seizes that moment to hold your hand instead, intertwining his fingers with yours.

The more you breathed in the more your body started to relax. All the edge was taken off and you felt good. You and Bucky continued to pass the blunt, smoking whatever was left of it and what he had with him, as you told random bits of information about yourselves to one another. By now, you and Bucky were leaning on each other, backs against the headboard, the TV barely audible as it continued to play a rerun of whatever that was on earlier.

“You know I really do remember you?” He says causing you to turn your head to look down at him. He has his gaze fixed on your hands, his thumb barely grazing the back of your hand. He’d been playing with your hand, drawing random shapes on it.

“That’s hard for me to believe,” you answer back truthfully.

“Why?” Bucky questions while looking up at you. He was in a slouched position, his hoodie and shirt rising up, allowing you a thin glimpse of his skin, while you sat a little higher up than him.

You admired his handsome face, the crease lines in his forehead, the faint and not so faint marks scattered all around it, his wet lips that shone when he ran his tongue over them and the stubble that surrounded it all down to his adorable nose. Then there were those blue eyes that once put you in an overawe of intimidation, were now a bit alarming in a new sense. They were swirling and growing darker.

“You meet new people every day, Bucky. There’s no way that I could’ve been that unforgettable to you.” You just couldn’t wrap your mind around that. Staring at him, you tried to read him, but you were too faded to concentrate.

“But you were,” he tells you in a low voice just before you notice his eyes shut and he leans in to place an experimenting kiss to your lips. He pulls back to quietly study your expression, and when you don’t show any sign of disapproval, he goes in for another.

This time with added pressure, more emotion, Bucky pulls you down by the back of your neck and casually slips his tongue in your mouth the moment your lips parted. Your heart started racing when you reciprocated his kiss, trying to keep up with him. He definitely liked to dominate. You could even slightly taste the blunt you both shared moments ago as his tongue tangled with yours.

He slips off his hoodie leaving him in a dark gray shirt. Navigating his body over yours, he pulls you down into a more comfortable position. He’s cradling the side of your face as your lips continue to move one another, getting hungrier and hungrier.

The movements cause your top to ride up, exposing your midriff. His hands wander down to caress your skin before you feel his fingers grip at the waistline of your jeans. You instantly grab his hand and stop him. This was moving all too fast for you.

Bucky didn’t press on it for too long and slipped his fingers out, running his hand back up your side and this time underneath what your tank top was covering left of your upper body. His hand snuck back out and started tugging at the material bunched underneath your breasts. When your top was finally discarded to reveal your red bra, he latched onto your neck, kissing up along your jawline and nipping at your ear, the sound of his harsh breathing sent a tingle at the contact and shivers through your entire body.

You winced when you suddenly felt one of his hands at the back of your head, yanking a handful of your hair causing your head to snap back. It gave him more access and you closed your eyes letting the sharp pain run its course and turn into something pleasurable as he practically devoured your neck. You could feel him inhale deeply, getting high on you, and possibly the lingering aroma of the drugs, and sucking tiny splotches onto your skin then licking to soothe them.

He pushed aside the straps of your bra as his lips travelled down your shoulder before stopping at the curve of your breasts. You briefly opened your eyes to see him fixated on your chest. He uses both hands to grope them.

“You think I didn’t notice these from the stage?” He asks now looking at you, squeezing and releasing them before pulling your bra down, your breasts spilling out of the cups. He instantly latches his mouth onto a nipple, while the other hand digs in between the mattress and your back to unclasp the bra. His tongue swirled around the nub, teeth lightly grazing and sucking at the skin around it.

You run a hand through his hair, it was a little sweaty and you couldn’t blame him. It was getting hot; you could feel the heat radiating off of him. It became even more apparent after he got rid of his shirt and you feel his clammy skin on yours.

He pulls back, straddling your waist, most of his body weight falling on his knees, careful to not to crush you. Your hands cascaded down his chest and rested at his thighs. You gave them a shy squeeze, something you’ve always dreamed of doing and you were only slightly satisfied.

Bucky flashes you another smile before he braces one hand next to your head and leans back over to fish something off the nightstand. When he pulls his other hand back you notice he’s going through something on his phone. Curious, you look at his face trying to get another read at him, but this whole night was just full of surprises. He finally looks at you before speaking.

“Can I ask you something and you promise not to freak out?”

It depends.

“Yeah…” Who were you kidding? You’d gladly get on your knees for this man. He swooped in for another hard kiss, your mind turning into mush just before you could get anything else out.

“I think it’d be so hot if we recorded ourselves,” his face was so close to yours making sure that your focus was on his and only his. He must’ve felt you shift because he allowed more of his weight to drop; he was closing in on you and it was like you almost had no chance of escape. You weren’t going to lie. The way his weight was crushing you and sinking you deeper into the bed felt really nice. You were speechless. He wanted to record a sex tape with you.

“I travel so much,” he starts listing off reasons why while still cradling the side of your face again, your hand bracing his forearm, and starts kissing your face, “it gets really lonely being on the road.” At this point, he’s probably kissed every inch, “I’d love to have this...it’d be so much easier for me to come thinking about you.”

Motherfucker. His dreamy voice speaking those words into you did one hell of a number because you were aching down there plus the way his hips dragged at your still jean-clad lower region didn’t offer much relief.

“I-I don’t know,” you hesitate for a bit. What if his phone got hacked and the footage leaked?

“It’s just for me, baby. I swear,” he asks with hopeful eyes.

Sure, you could’ve had the strength to say no, but you were more than willing to be everything he desired. With your consent, he sealed it with another wild kiss. The magnitude of it setting you ablaze.

Bucky sets his phone back on the nightstand, propping it upright, camera on front face mode to display the both of you on its screen, and at the perfect angle he hits the red record button.

It’s showtime.

He revisits the mission of removing your pants and is this time successful. If you both weren’t so faded, he’d probably have an easier time taking them off, but they were tight, and you were grateful he didn’t clumsily break your ankles in the process. Chucking them somewhere off to the side, with his fingers, he traces the top pattern of the matching red lace panties you had on.

He let out a faint chuckle commenting on how red is his favorite color. Oh, you knew. You precisely chose this set just in case you got lucky. He plants kisses to your hip bones, his lips evading the area that cried out for his attention the most, and slithered down the bed, so he had your calves now placed over his shoulders.

Bucky laid gentle pecks on them and came back up to start nipping at your inner thighs, most likely leaving his mark there also, until you felt the tip of his nose hit your center. Your panties were definitely a deeper shade of red at this point. He pushed your panties to the side enough to get started.

You feel the pads of his fingers begin to rub circular motions at your clit. The first wave causing your hips to jolt involuntarily. You feel the smirk that formed on his face against your thigh at your body’s response.

“So sensitive,” he says pushing your hips back down to continue his task at hand, “and so wet,” he added while pulling his fingers away to examine your arousal that coated his long digits. You don’t take your eyes off him and you almost forget how to breathe when you watch his lips wrap around his fingers, noting his eyes closed and how his cheekbones become more prominent on an already perfect jawline as he sucked them off clean.

When Bucky opens his eyes, they’re darker than before, clouded with lust. He roughly yanked at your panties, still in his other hand, effectively tearing the overpriced garment. After giving it a few more tugs, it was long gone. Headfirst in between your legs, Bucky craved for more of you. He licked a broad strip, down up, to your clit. His tongue teased your folds before dipping inside you, the intrusion causing you to gasp. Your body withered around desperately searching for a path to release. Bucky kept at it, his nose nudging your clit with each plunge his tongue made.

Not denying you of a finish, he adds his fingers into the mix, curling them to find that spot. Noting that your eyes had closed sometime during the act, he stills, and you whine at the sudden halt. Your hand aimlessly reaches out to his face. When you find it, you open your eyes and pick your head up to find out why he had stopped. Bucky offers one of his hands for you to hold on to before speaking.

“Baby keep your eyes on me,” he orders, and his eyes don’t leave yours as his head lowers back down to your pulsing heat. You struggle to keep your eyes open and head from lolling back in ecstasy because you desperately wanted to come. Fuck, he was so talented.

The noises as a result of his onslaught were downright sinful. Bucky’s hips started to ground into the bed trying to relieve some friction of his own. His moans tremble across your entire body. There’s no warning when you come, and you don’t even give him a chance to escape your thighs that clamp around face. Not that Bucky minded, feeling you clench around his fingers as he drank in more of what your body had to offer. Bucky only then emerges when your legs fall limp against the bed.

He plops back down next to you, but as he does so, he pulls you on top of him. Your lips reattach themselves with his and the raw nature of tasting yourself on his lips drive you both mad. He hadn’t even wiped around his face, so you feel the wetness on his chin scrape across yours, staining you with your own arousal.

Your hands moved on their own from planting themselves on his firm chest then working their way down the ripples of his abs, through the trail of hair leading to the top of the waistband of his sweats. You tauntingly pulled the drawstring to loosen it before letting it go and instead grip him through the soft material. Bucky grumbled at your actions, but let you carry on.

You palmed him, getting a feel of how thick and long he was. Bucky was growing whiny with each passing move your hand made, he took matters into his own and grabbed your hand, shoving it into his pants. Your hand instinctively wraps around his hard cock and you give it a light squeeze and a few strokes, generating long drawn out moans to spew from Bucky’s mouth.

His cock felt even better with nothing separating you two. Bucky’s pants and boxers easily slide down his muscular legs, which spread apart to give you room. You maneuver south to lie on your stomach, still in between his legs, and grab his member that was curved resting at his stomach and bring it your face.

“Wait,” he says almost breathlessly. Your mouth is only inches away from the head already weeping profusely. He sits up to rest on his elbows and retrieves his phone from the nightstand. Oh.

“Okay, smile for me,” he directs, and you follow his lead before your tongue darts out at his slit and follow the ring around the tip of his cock. You pull back to savor his taste for a moment, your hands spreading the pre-cum around his shaft. Your strokes are then accompanied by the long licks you give at the sides and to his balls that your other hand had been playing with. Bucky’s head rests on his pillow so his other hand could rest on the back of your head and guide you down his length. Your mouth immediately started to water, but it made it easier for you to bob up and down. He let you move at your own pace for the most part. Bucky pushed your hair off to the side, away from your face to get a better view of the outline of his cock poking at the inside of your mouth. You let his cock drag across the inside of your cheeks a few times until it audibly popped out of your mouth.

“Fuck me. I knew you’d be perfect.” His words mixed with his incessant moans were like honey pouring into your ears. He loved the way your eyes looked directly at him through the camera lens when you come up with a long tantalizing lick to the underside of his cock and crawling back up to straddle him.

Bucky gets a good shot of your flushed face and breasts that had some of your drool combined with his pre-cum running down your body before dropping his phone beside him. He sits up causing you to fall back down at the other end of the bed. He picks out a condom from the nightstand and you watch as it rolls down the length of his cock. You bite your lip watching it twitch.

He’s on his knees, but sitting on the balls of his feet, you are lying down patiently waiting for him. He swipes his cock through the wetness of your pussy, prepping himself to slide in. He’s watching your reaction with each pass his dick makes. Your body is yearning for him to be inside of you, to hit that fucking spot over and over.

Just when you think he’s about to do it, he’s reaching over for that damn phone again. Out of habit, you cover your face with your hands. Not only showing the last shred of humility you had left, but also because you probably looked like a fucking bitch in heat.

Bucky pulls your hands away, he still has the phone in his hands, and he’s got it angled to playback from his point of view before he finally pushes into you. He’s big, much bigger than what you’ve experienced, you think you need a moment to adjust, but he never gives you that opportunity and you find that it doesn’t matter when he feels so good. Too good that you find it hard to breathe with each thrust he’s making because he’s hitting it so deep. You push your hands out in front of you to his lower abdomen and attempt to slow him down. Bucky shakes his head and knocks your hands out of the way.

You let out an abrupt yelp at his retaliation to your failed efforts in trying to stop him with a particularly harder and much forceful thrust. Instead, your hands grab fistfuls of the hotel bed’s white blankets and just let him have his way.

“So beautiful,” he says spreading you further then coming down on you to reclaim your lips with his. He rips your hands from their tight grips on the bed sheets to pin them down next to the sides of your head. You don’t care where his phone went, just happy to have both his hands on you. The skin-to-skin contact just hit different sometimes.

The kisses become so feral you start to feel a burn around your mouth from his stubble. Bucky rolls his hips into yours deliciously, a damn true artist, the rhythm he’s got going sends you just about over but never fully beyond the edge to prolong the climax.

Much to your dismay, Bucky withdraws away from you again, back into his previous position, a new idea popping into his wicked mind. With his hard cock still inside you, he slides his hands under your hips and hoists your lower half up towards him, resting your ass on his thighs, effectively bottoming out. You don’t hold back at the way that made you feel and let out an embarrassingly loud moan. He holds still for a second and you’re not quite sure why. You try to move by wiggling your hips, but he holds you still.

He’s staring at how close your bodies are, connected, he moves just the slightest. It causes your pussy to contract and your stomach to tighten up. He does it again in different intervals, his eyes surveying the entire thing. The next push is a little harder and when you see the devious smile breakthrough his face, he does it even more. The thrusts are much sharper and almost painful, but it quickly subsides when you feel the head of his cock probe at the right spot.

Bucky lifts your hips up higher, your back arching in bridge fashion you weren’t aware you could even do until he resumes his new pattern of thrusts again. This new position aided his cock in hitting your sweet spot a little better. He’s filming you again and resting one of his palms on your stomach. He’s not only watching, but he’s feeling the bulge in your belly from the distension caused by the jabs of his cock.

“That’s my girl,” he praised, continuing to pound into you, “you take this cock so well.” The sight boosts Bucky’s ego and for you it actually probably wasn’t a good thing, but you’d be damned the angle did so many wonders to you right now.

“You love watching your cock go deeper and deeper inside me, Bucky?” You ask trying to look up at him from that position. Where did that come from? Your words cause him to freeze momentarily, but you could still feel his cock throbbing inside of you. He liked that.

Another impish thought running through his head, Bucky pulls out, picking you up so you’re also knee-height with him, giving you another searing kiss, then he’s behind you. He gently pushes you down, you on your elbows, Bucky leans over behind you, his soaked cock sliding up your ass resting on the small of your back as he places his phone back on the nightstand in the same position it had been in the beginning.

You don’t dare look at the screen in front of you, so you look down until you feel Bucky enter your pussy once more from behind. Your head rises and it wasn’t due to the surging pleasure, but because Bucky uses your hair as a rope to bring your body upright with his.

He thrusts up into you while he mutters incoherent slurs and lewd noises into your ear. He peppers the side of your face with wet and uncalculated kisses, his hands massaging your breasts before one of them migrates down to cup your pussy. His fingers dip in and starts another assault to your clit. You’re already tethering off the edge and on the brink of succumbing to him, but he just knew when to let up and keep you starved for more.

“Look at you,” he says, using his other hand to turn your head to face the small screen, the numbers continuing to go up. “You’re such a fucking slut for my cock,” you don’t argue with him and instead moan his name. “You like watching yourself fuck this huge cock, don’t you?” You couldn’t lie to yourself anymore; watching the two of you was hot. Your uncontrollable moans now muffled into Bucky’s palm. And he just kept egging you on, “I know I do. It’s gonna remind me just how tight this fucking pussy is.” Damn him.

“You want to come, baby?” He asks, the speed of his fingers picking up a notch.

You pull down Bucky’s hand to respond, “Mmm, yes. Fuck! Please let me come, Bucky,” you don’t know what has possessed you, but it spurs the both of you on even more. Your next words do it for Bucky, “I want to come all over your cock,” and he’s immediately coming and spilling into the condom, still inside you, you feel his release pump through him. He’s biting your shoulder, some of his weight coming down on you, his thrusts becoming erratic, but one did the trick for you and you finally let go.

And what drives Bucky even more wild, is that you don’t stop. You keep rolling your hips into him, riding it all the way out. Bucky’s trying to hold on, with a bruising grip on your waist, his forehead resting on your back; the aftershock of his release proving too much. Your release pours out freely, you feel some of it slide down the inside of your thighs mixed with sweat.

You sag against Bucky, each of your body weight balancing against the other. You feel him scatter lazy kisses up your back and pull your face towards him to press one against your lips, moaning in satisfaction. He slowly pulls out of you with a low groan, your body feeling numb when you fall forward to lie down on the bed. Bucky discards of the condom and shuts his phone off before settling next to you.

He pushes the hair out of your face, and you, facedown, peek an eye open. He has a more than content look on his face, you notice his eyes were back to their normal color. He allows some time to pass for you both to calm down. Sleep wants to overcome your body, but it doesn’t when Bucky’s touch puts you on notice again. He runs his hand up and down your back. He’s insatiable, but he didn’t anticipate your comeback in the end and put him in a daze. He could get addicted to you.

“Is it weird if I fly you out to Brooklyn?” He said out of nowhere. Brooklyn was thousands of miles away from where you lived. He wanted to pay your way to see him again. It was such an outlandish request. You’re starting to regain a more balanced sense of perception and thought, and you ponder on this for a few seconds. “Never mind. You think it’s weird,” he says lifting the blanket over his head turning his back to you. You could tell he was just trying to be cute.

“Oh, come on! You caught me off guard. You can’t blame me!” You respond, but he doesn’t budge. You muster up enough strength to sit up to lean over the side of his body, resting your chin on the top of his shoulder, and try to grab at the blanket. You pull it over his head and see the lazy smile etched across his pretty face. All you do is return the smile and close your eyes, basking in the post-coital bliss.

“Stay for the night,” came as his last request and turning to lie on his back, wrapping his arms around you.

You don’t think about your car, that’s still parked nearby or care if the parking rate is probably going up by the hour and start eating at your bank account. You don’t think about how pissed your friend would be when she wakes up in the morning and you’re still not back in time. You just think about how tomorrow he’d be far away. You scoot up to give him one more kiss before laying your head to rest on him and make the best out of the present. Happy that you went with your gut on this one.

A/N: This could flop. At first, it was easy to write, but then the ending tripped me up. & while I have your attention, please let me know, anonymously or not, if there’s an interest in a Chase Collins fic? Charles Blackwood smut, anyone? Anyway, I hope this delivered! Thanks for reading!

#mrwinterr writes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #marvel fic #rockstar!bucky barnes #rockstar!bucky #rockstar!au #happy

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another-sonic-blog · 4 years

Note

Here's a request! Whats your list of personal/what you think are the best shadamy fics to read? And your reasonings why? Again love your work! ♡ (i literally redownloaded wattpad after 5 years of staying away just to read your ff 😳😅)

Thank you so much! I am really happy that you like my work, I am honored ... Thank you!

Alright before I start this list, I will be making a few disclaimers.

I. Honestly, I don't have a favorite ShadAmy fanfiction. I've read a lot of it but I usually drop the story for the following reasons. (Opinion based)

-The story plot is the same as other fics. (Ex. Amy gets lost after chasing Sonic and rejecting her, Shadow gets there. He saves her, Amy dates Shadow. Sonic is jealous and loves Amy and blah blah blah)

-They depict Sonic as a jerk.

It's ok to have a different interpretation of a character, but it really gets uncomfortable when a friendly character like Sonic starts screaming and even punching Amy.

-Over-sexualization of characters. It's ok if there's sexual tension, it's normal in teens. However, explicitly writing sex scenes with characters that are made for kids it's a no for me.

-Writing Amy as suicidal. This one just hits home too much. It makes me uncomfortable sometimes to read about a character I relate to being depressed and suicidal because it reminds me of dark times in my life.

-Shadow being a complete jerk and having an abusive relationship with Amy. This is a big NO for me. Romanticizing toxic relationships is wrong and shouldn't be accepted.

-There is more I don’t like. Shadow bullying Amy or Shadow keeping Amy as captive. Shadow being abusive towards Amy and her falling in love with him even when Shadow keeps mistreating her. And other cliches in the ShadAmy fanfiction I don't like.

II. I am a fanfic writer. However, the one criticizing the following works would be me, as a reader. If I say any 'negative' comments, it doesn't mean I do it better nor it means I am better than them. The one analyzing their work is the reader, the one who consumes their content.

And because I don't really have a lot of fics to share with you, I will be sharing a few comics I enjoyed reading a lot!

Let's start!

3.Scripted Romance by BitterKiss

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13210221/1/Scripted-Romance

Alright, this story is good maybe because I have something for comedy romance. This story is a Sonic Boom!AU where our main cast are actors for the Sonic Boom TV series. There is a heavy tension between Amy and Shadow where everyone notices but them. Amy and Shadow have a pretty good friendship and chemistry which is refreshing. Shadow likes Amy and its fun to read how he fails every time he attempts to get closer to her. I can't honestly say much about the story because although the writing it's good, there are only five chapters and there's not much to criticize nor analyze. (Which is not a bad thing, every writer has the time to take the time they need to write.)

2.One Hundred Moments by Laineybug04

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13153102/1/One-Hundred-Moments

This story makes me sad but not in a bad way. Ten good written chapters with good quality and extremely good character development. Some stories have the mistake of rushing relationships but in this story, they take it nice and slow. Not so slow that there is no development and not so rushed that their relationship looks fake. The story has a Romeo and Juliet premise. Two hedgehogs who want to be together but can't because their friends think they will betray their own responsibilities. It's really good to see Shadow doing things he wouldn't normally do just to please Amy. It's great to see Amy being vulnerable with Shadow. Not only that but it's great to see how other characters react to their friendship. Rouge may be a bit too overwhelming since at this point she is the main one who tries to separate them. Although I think her reasons may not be the most valid, they are reasonable. This story is beyond entertaining and in only ten chapters, the writer was able to create a growing friendship and romance that will leave you wanting to read more!

1.Team Dark's Rose by Nothin’Fancy

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13221856/1/Team-Dark-s-Rose

Uff.

What can I say? There are only two 'negative’ things I can say about this story.

One. Rouge and especially Shadow may be too mean to Amy. However, everyone has their own character interpretation. The writer is free to do whatever they want to do with such character as long as that leads to development.

There is a fine line between a character teasing, showing they dislike another character and being abusive.

The writer does not cross this line and I am sure they are aware of the difference.

I honestly can't wait to see how the writer develops Team Dark and how they start to open up to Amy. It's going to be really nice to see the characters realizing their mistakes and misjudgment towards Amy.

Second, the story only has seven chapters so far.

Seven chapters filled with character analyzation and world-building.

The premise of this story is "What if Amy joined Team Dark?" Although it sounds simple, it's far from that. The writer really takes the time to develop each character and explain the reasons behind their actions. Each character is equally important. Although the protagonist of this story is Amy; the story, in reality, is about Team Dark trying to accept Amy.

There are two main conflicts in the story. External and internal conflicts and to create a good story, you need both. In this story it goes like this. External: GU.N.'s discrimination towards Team Dark. Internal: Team Dark's denial of accepting Amy. Of their disliking and even jealousy towards her.

The ShadAmy is there but right now it's slowly developing. If you want a story that it's more focused on their relationship then I recommend reading the first two stories I mentioned earlier.

Comics:

Damn, I write too much, the reviews for the following comics will be shorter.

3.Love & Life by Cardonanavas.

Link: https://www.deviantart.com/cardonanavas/art/L-L-Family-page-1-279994522

Have you ever wonder what would be the life of Shadow and Amy as a family?

The story develops after 'Just a ShadAmy comic' (Which I recommend as well, but in my opinion, the sequel is better than the first comic)

Here we see the still developing relationship of Shadow and Amy. After three years of dating, Amy is ready to take the next step as she feels like her time is running out (Because she is sick) Shadow, however, doesn't like the idea of having a baby of his own with the thought he might become a weapon. Shadow is unaware of Amy's sickness until one day ...

Shadow will go the impossible to have a normal life with Amy but the story is not only about that. It's much more! Drama, mystery, comedy. It's everything!

Right now, the comic is in progress but still, it's totally worth a read!

2.ShadAmy comic by Zketcherz

Link: https://www.deviantart.com/zketcherz/art/Shadamy-comic-pg-1-717180957

This comic is in progress but it's still extremely good! Amy and Shadow are relatable characters and they are slowly developing. So far, there's not much ShadAmy but the interactions they have are really good and they are not over the top. There are no overly convenient romance cliches and the situations they are put in are realistic and they react well according to it.

I can argue, however, that I don't agree with how Shadow reacts later on the story. I can't say much about this simply because that would be spoiling you an important part of the plot.

1.Shadow the Hedgehog by 0Carkki0

Link: https://www.deviantart.com/0carkki0/art/Shadow-The-Hedgehog-25822745

I have nothing to say about this. The only bad thing about this comic is that it's incomplete and it will probably never be finished. However ... there are 208 pages! 208 pages filled with greatness. There is no 'love' but there is a lot of teasing and kissing.

I won't say anything about the plot, do yourself a favor and just read!

With this, I conclude my list. I hope you enjoyed it! Once again, thank you so much for reading my stories and I hope I gave you other stories you can enjoy as well. Sorry if my answer is too long, but believe me this is the shortest I could do. These stories are great and I strongly recommend reading them!

#shadamy au #shadamy #shadow and amy #shadowxamy #shadow the hedgehog #Amy Rose #amyrose #shadow x amy #shadow #sonic fanfiction #sonic fanfic #romance #recommended

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digifangirl97 · 5 years

Text

New to the Family

Ok sooo uhhh I don’t know how this happened, but I wrote a fanfic?? It’s based on the Decent Lawbros AU that got made over on my friend @ren-amamiyaa’s blog so credits to them and their followers for the AU, I really love this AU and had been thinking about it a lot lately and I guess I got inspired cuz this happened and I’m still trying to process the fact that I finished it?? I’ve tried to make fanfics before (*side eyes the unfinished Pegoryu fic that has been sitting in my laptop since 2018*) but it’s never gone anywhere, well uhhh enjoy my first ever (finished) fanfic, I guess? I really hope it doesn’t suck and if it does, I’m sorry I don’t know what I’m doing ;__;

It’s summer, the sun was beating down hard, bugs were buzzing, children were playing, Akechi watched all this through the car window as he was being driven to his new home in the country town of Inaba which was quite far from Tokyo, he was still wondering if that was a good thing or not, he didn’t miss Tokyo, but he did miss his friends, they promised they’d visit but he still had a hard time believing that, he knows he should have more faith in them but...

The car came to a sudden stop which snapped Akechi back into reality “All right we’re here.” said his new guardian as he unbuckled his seat belt and opened the drivers door and once out walked to the other side of the car to open Akechi’s.

His new guardian, Ryotaro Dojima, was a detective just like Akechi, well it was still up in the air if he would still pursue that career path or not but he’d rather not dwell on it. “Well, you coming?” said Dojima with a chuckle while holding the car door open for him, “Ah! Y-Yes sir!!” that made Dojima laugh more “No need to be so formal, we are family after all.”

“Right....family...” He was still having trouble processing the fact he had family that wasn’t dead or that man, it was unfamiliar and he didn’t know how to handle it, it seemed way too good to be true.

The Dojima Residence was far from the biggest house he’d ever seen, it looked old and empty, around the house there was a small garden in a lot to the side which seemed to be growing some vegetables and a Scooter parked out front, “Our place isn’t much but I you like it here.” said Dojima in a calm and welcoming tone as got out the key to the front door, “It should just be Nanako who’s home right now, I still have to pick up your brother from Junes.” he placed the key in the lock and twisted it, “I see...” his brother, Yu Narukami, or more accurately his half brother, they didn’t share the same mother but unfortunately shared the same father.

Akechi met Narukami in Tokyo when he moved there and ended up working for their bastard father Masayoshi Shido, Shido was fully aware that Narukami was his son and vice versa and seemed to treat him well which was something Akechi envied, although Akechi was on Shido’s good side at the time so he couldn’t let his envy show in fear of pissing Shido off and ruining everything he worked for those passed few years.

Narukami did simple things for Shido such as run errands for him or, if deemed necessary, asked his opinion on certain issues only to end up half listening to Narukami’s advice if at all, he couldn’t tell if that annoyed Narukami or not, he either didn’t care that Shido ignored his advice or was really good at hiding how he felt, later Akechi would learn that it was most likely the latter. Akechi however was stuck with Shido’s dirty work which only he could do since Narukami knew nothing about the Metaverse or Shadows, so it was something only Akechi could do and he took some pride in the fact he could do something for Shido that Narukami couldn’t, but it didn’t seem to phase Narukami and even seemed supportive of him despite not know what the task was much to Akechi’s annoyance.

Although Narukami seemed like a good person and would probably hate what Akechi was doing for Shido just as much as he did, he was prideful that he had something over Narukami but he wasn’t proud of what it was and he would never tell Narumaki either.

“I’m back!” said Dojima as he slid the door open.

“Welcome home!!” called a young chipper voice from the living room.

The inside of the house was also unimpressive but something about it did make Akechi feel at home, the kitchen was small but cluttered like it had been used recently, the living room was spacious and had a kotatsu in the middle which Akechi could see himself enjoying, and the TV seemed to be playing the news which Akechi was sick of.

“Um...”

“Hm?” Akechi looked down to find a young girl looking up at him from the kotatsu “Oh! Uhh hello there.” the girl had caught him by surprise and it seemed the same could be said for her.

“This is Goro Akechi, Yu’s half brother, he’ll be living with as from now on so make sure he feels welcome ok?” Dojima turned to Akechi “And this is my daughter Nanako, I hope you two get along.”

“Um it’s nice to meet you Nanako-san.”

“U-Uhhh...”

“C’mon Nanako he’s Yu’s brother, so he’s practicality your brother too, so introduce to your new brother!” said Dojima in a playful tone which only caused Nanako to shoot him a look to which he laughed.

“Well, anyway, I should go and pick up Yu from Junes now, I still don’t know why he needs to buy so much stuff that he needs the car to bring it all home.” Dojima turned to the door and said “You two look after each other now, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Ok...” said Nanako in a disappointed tone, Akechi simply nodded, watching as the door shut and the rumbling of the car soon following.

Now he was alone with Nanako and he was at a loss at what to say or do but could just keep standing there so he took a seat at the kotatsu and watched the TV which Nanako also seemed to be doing.

“This is boring...” Nanako then proceed to change the channel which Akechi silently thanked her for, he was so sick of the news more specifically he was sick of being on it and having to put up with news reporters and their fake personalities so he felt blessed he didn’t have to listen to their fake chipper voices right now.

Nanako changed the channel to what seemed to be a quiz show “Hmm...”

“Do you like this show Nanako-san?” said Akechi in an attempt to make conversation since the silence was eating him alive, Nanako glanced at him with a shy look and said “Yeah but I don’t feel like watching it right now” she continued to flip thought channels to find something else when Akechi heard a song he was all too familiar with accompanied by an excited gasp from Nanako.

Go! Go! Let’s go!! Phoenix Ranger Featherman!!!

The campy theme song played throughout the house accompanied by Nanako singing along as Akechi just sat there staring at the TV as the show from his childhood played in front of him, he missed this show which surprised him, he thought he would have outgrown it but he found himself loving it just as much as he did when he was younger and unable to take his eyes off the screen.

“Um...”

“Hm?” Akechi snapped back to reality to find Nanako staring at him once again this time with a look of curiosity, Akechi quickly leaned back realising he had been subconsciously leading forward to get a closer look at the TV.

“S-Sorry! I um!”

“No, no, it’s ok! Umm do you like Featherman Akechi-san?”

“Um y-yes I do.” Akechi’s face went pink at admitting it but he couldn’t exactly say no after staring at the screen like he did.

“Who’s your favorite Ranger?”

Akechi looked down at his lap “Pink Argus...” he could feel his cheeks go from pink to red as he said it.

“She’s my favorite too!!” Nanako had a bright look on her face, it was almost as if the shy girl from earlier had disappeared completely. Then with a look on her face as if she remembered something she stood up and said “Hold on! I’ll be right back!!” and proceed to run upstairs, Akechi could hear the shuffling of what he figured to be boxes and toys so she seemed to have gone to her room, when she found what she was looking for she came back and sat down right next to Akechi and placed a shoe box on the kotatsu.

“Open it!!” she said with an exited giggle, to which Akechi complied and lifted the lid of the box only to be greeted by several Featherman figures, Akechi just stared at them wide eyed as Nanako reached in and handed him the Pink Argus one.

“Here!”

“Ah! T-Thank you.” she then took out the Blue Swan figure and held it in the air.

“My Big Bro got these for me! Let’s play with em!!”

“Really?”

“Yeah!!”

“Ok.”

Akechi and Nanako played with the Featherman figures and took turns playing the villain since Nanako didn’t own any figures of them, and Nanako insisted they hit eachother with the figures to show the Rangers were attacking, Akechi simply tapped Nanako when she was the villain meanwhile Nanako showed no mercy and Akechi could swear one of her hits was going to leave a bruise on his back but he couldn’t complain he was having a lot of fun and did eventually tell Nanako to be gentler to which she apologized.

Soon both of them became hungry and stopped to eat some snacks while still talking about Featherman, the show in question continued to play on the TV as background noise.

Akechi found himself scratching his arm, it seemed the fabric the hoodie that Yu had lent him back in Tokyo was made of didn’t agree with his skin and kinda itchy, Nanako proved to be more observant than Akechi first thought as she exused herself and went upstairs once again only to return with a Phoenix Ranger Featherman shirt.

“Here.”

“For me?”

“Yeah! I use it as a night shirt but you can have it!!” she smiled at him holding the shirt in front of her.

“Thank you Nanako-san.”

“Hehe you’re welcome!”

Akechi took off the hoodie which he wasn’t wearing anything under and put on the Featherman shirt.

“Did your Big Bro get you this too Nanako-san?”

“No, my dad did! Isn’t it cool!!”

“Yes, very cool.” Akechi looked down at the shirt with a smile on his face.

“Oh! By the way you don’t have to be so formal.”

“Hm?”

“You keep calling me ‘Nanako-san’, you don’t have to do that! You can just call me Nanako-chan!!” she gave Akechi a bright smile and he could feel his cheeks go pink once again.

“I-If you say so Nanako-chan.”

“And can I call you Goro?”

Akechi looked at her surprised and then smiled “Sure, Naruka- I mean Yu does that already so I don’t see why you can’t.”

“Yay!!”

Both of them continued to smile and then heard the sound of a car outside.

Nanako let out a gasp as she said “Dad and Big Bro are back!!” and got up grabbing Goro’s hand and dragging him to his feet barely giving him any time to compose himself as she dragged him outside to the car.

“Dad!! Big Bro!! Welcome home!!!”

“Oh well hi there you two!” there stood Yu Narukami holding several Junes bags as Dojima got some out from the other side, “How are you Goro? You think you’ll like it here yet?”

Goro was actually quite happy to see Yu and smiled as he said “It’ll take some getting used to but” he looked down at Nanako who was still holding his hand as she stared excitedly at Yu “yes I think I’ll love it here.”

“That’s good.” Yu said with a calm smile.

“Hey do you mind helping us? Your brother got too much crap at Junes!!” said Dojima with a playful face and an obviously fake angry voice.

“Ok!” said Goro and Nanako in unison, Nanako picked up as many bags as she could carry, while Goro picked up quite a few causing the Dojima family, his family, to marvel at strong he was despite how scrawny he was.

Once all the bags were inside Goro finally asked “What’s all this stuff for?” the bags were filled with either food, ingredients to be made into food which Goro and Yu were taking out of the bags, or clothes.

“Yes Yu I’m sure we’d all like to know” jabbed Dojima from the living room spending time watching TV with Nanako, Yu only rolled his eyes with a smile in response to Dojima, “Well...it’s all for you Goro!”

“Huh?”

“I thought we could hold a party to celebrate your arrival! At least if that’s ok with you?”

Akechi just stood there, he didn’t know what to say, he’d never thought they’d want to celebrate his arrival, “Are you ok?” said Yu with a slightly worried look.

“Huh?! Oh!! Uhhh yeah I’m fine and uhh no I don’t mind having a party.”

“Good cause I already invited my friends and they’ll be here any minute.”

“And when did you plan on telling me this?” said Dojima turning his head to the kitchen, “Uhhh eventually.” was the only thing Yu said in response “Uh huh, sure.” laughed Dojima.

They then heard the ring of the doorbell “Oh well speak of the devil!” Yu went to open the door and Goro could hear a wave of warm greetings when it opened, Goro looked to the living as Nanako jumped up and ran to the door to greet Yu’s friends, Goro had gained not only a brother but also a sister and for the first time in a long, long time he truly felt at home, earlier he told Yu the truth, he was going to love it here.

#persona 5 #goro akechi #persona 4 #ryotaro dojima #nanako dojima #yu narukami #my post #my fic

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fangirlunderground-blog · 6 years

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Meta Monday

I just started volunteering for @zinedom, a project dedicated to helping fanzine authors bring their fanfiction online to the next generation of fans. If you’re interested in helping to preserve fandom history, or to read the fics they’ve digitized, please check them out!

Naturally, with fandom history my mind, this week's meta recommendations had to be about Star Trek and "the premise”; the Kirk/Spock premise, that is. Enjoy! There’s something here for you whether you’re a reboot fan new to the original series or a lifelong Trekkie. 🖖

Star Trek - Kirk/Spock

#that’s not friendship spock that’s a boner by @aldora89-blog, Okay, so there are a couple different levels to this (yes I am seriously turning a joke tag into meta). (Mirror Link)

[VIDEO] Are They Gay? Kirk and Spock by AreTheyGay, A video series tackling the one question facing many same-sex couples throughout history: Are They Gay? In this episode we explore the relationship between Kirk and Spock, a subject of much debate. Do you think they're gay?

The Conscience of the King by @1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt, Or as I like to call it, jealous Spock, jealous Spock, holy fucking jealous Spock. That’s gonna be my focus, so turn back now while you can. This is a God damn behemoth. I can’t take it back now. I am frothing at the mouth here. I am gargling on my oatmeal with how possessive Spock is throughout this whole episode. (Mirror Link)

“Hamlet” in Space, & How It Proves K/S by @capt-sulu, “The Conscience of the King” is a Season One TOS episode based on Shakespeare’s Hamlet, best known for being the Tarsus IV episode. In it, Jim Kirk is forced to confront a face from his past, Kodos the Executioner, who executed half of the colony Tarsus IV due to a famine that threatened the entirety. (Mirror Link)

He Looks at Him Like He Holds His Whole Damn Universe (He Is His Whole Universe) - Part 1 & Part 2 by @picturelyuniverse, For purely scientific reasons, I will now endeavour to compile a set of photos detailing Jim’s Gaze of Love™ directed at *drumrolls please* Spock throughout the course of just one movie, ST: The Voyage Home (mostly also because if I were to include the original TV series and other movies, this post would probably implode). (Mirror Links 1 + 2)

How to upset Gene Roddenberry & This is a personal story about Gene Roddenberry by @spockslash*, [...] Didn’t bat an eye at a fairly graphic description of Jim and Spock having sex — but boy was he upset about those buttons! (Mirror Links 1 + 2)

Kirk/Spock Moments List by @winnifredburkle, An incomplete list of Jim Kirk and Spock being totally Extra with each other. (Mirror Link)

[VIDEO] Kirk & Spock Fandoms’ First Couple? by Shippers Guide to the Galaxy, Kirk and Spock are two of the most iconic characters out there, and their presence in fandom has had lasting impacts on modern fan culture. Just what is it about these two that led fans to pair them in droves from the 60s onwards? Dive into ShippersGuideToTheGalaxy and get to know the ship known as K/S.

This Simple Feeling by @spockfallsinlove, Ok maybe I’m reaching here but you know how V’ger was looking for that meaning beyond knowledge, was doing that whole trip through space to figure it out and then Spock, after that epic mind-meld, is like ‘oh yeah it can’t find an answer because it doesn’t comprehend this simple feeling’ while clutching James T 'Ripped Shirt' Kirk’s hand? (Mirror Link)

Vulcan Mind Meld - Analysis Parts 1 – 5 & Conclusion by @pywren, Fellow Trekkies who got to know me a bit are very aware that I’m fascinated by the way the Vulcan mind works. Especially the way temporary links and more permanent bonds are created. Thus it should surprise no one that I am obsessed with the mind link between Jim and Spock that, thanks to Gene Roddenberry, is very much canon (more about that later). Because of this I’ve decided to take a closer look at the times Spock melded with his captain throughout the five year mission. (Mirror Links 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6)

What is, in your opinion, the episode where Spock and Kirk show the most concern about one another? by @plaidshirtjimkirk, I’m unfit to answer this question because this is a thing that happens constantly and it’s all so meaningful and I. Okay. Okay fine. Here’s some evidence, which isn’t even all of it. You decide. (Mirror Link)

*Dee, also known as Fandom Grandma, passed away this past February. If you weren’t familiar with her blogs, you owe it to yourself to browse for a while. They’re wonderful archives of fandom history, stories, and some amazing NSFW art. I’m in no way exaggerating or joking when I say literally goals.

#meta #spirk #spock #james kirk #star trek #star trek: the original series #m/m #meta monday #fangirlrecs #mm29

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psychic-refugee · 6 years

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Real Person Fanfiction (”RPFs”)

I have mixed feelings about RPFs. On one hand, everyone has fantasies about being famous and falling in love with x celebrity. I totally support writing out your fantasies or starting out with fantasies to practice writing. All writing is generally good practice writing. And most fics based on movies/tv are using the actor/actress in mind so how much of a difference is there? On the other, if I were said celebrity I’d be so creeped out by some of the smut written about me. Some don’t care and are like, “keep it coming! lol” Others are super creeped out about it and people do NOT RESPECT boundaries. Like I’ve heard stories where members of One Direction would be SENT NSFW fan creations, even after explicitly stating they don’t want it and in any other situation/work place that would be considered sexual harassment.

Honestly, it is sexual harassment and no one (famous or not) deserves that. Just because a person is a movie/music/whatever star does not mean they give up the right to feel safe. It also doesn’t give everyone else free reign to sexualize them in public.

Don’t even get me started if said celebrity is under age. Like honestly if there is a god and we’re smote tomorrow solely based on the fact that humans would sexualize kids, I’d be like “You know what? We deserve it. Humans are trash. Smite away.”

Like I can’t even imagine the complete utter lack of social graces or awareness you’d have to have in order to think in any universe that it’d be ok to directly send a celebrity explicit content that you created unprompted. It literally boggles my mind and I legit think these people give fans a bad name and I would never want to be associated with anyone like that. For the most part I think most fans and fanfic writers know this portion of the social contract and are fine. It’s the minority that don’t that cause problems and why RPFs get banned.

Like if people knew how to behave, then maybe it wouldn’t be such a big deal and ff.net would allow it. But I totally understand banning it.

So I have written “adult” scenes that feature characters from movies and therefore used the actors/actresses’ likeness. The movie came out before the books and I haven’t read them either. So there’s no doubt that when I’m writing, I’m using their likeness in mind. So I would say my writing, and Descendant’s/movie/tv show fanfiction in general, is not that far off from RPFs. I also would never SEND my fic to Booboo Stewart, Dove Cameron, Cameron Boyce, or Sophia Carson. I’m under the assumption that they would never read the fic and basically no harm no foul. I’d probably die of embarrassment if they ever did. Like I would literally make the news: “Local citizen dies of the first case of fatal embarrassment. More at 11.”

So I think that’s the standard everyone should work under. Let your creative juices fly, even if it takes you to some freaky deaky place. BUT DON’T SEND IT TO WHOM IT’S WRITTEN ABOUT.

I think it’s rare that a celebrity asks for smut in any form. If they have, fine. Send away and lets hope they know what they got themselves into it. Some have admitted to searching for it on their own volition. Again, hope they know what they’re getting themselves into. I know I’ve wanted to see stuff but regretted what I found. I think we’ve all gone too far down the rabbit hole and wished we could un-see things.

And even if they did ask for stuff, they also have the right to change their mind or put caveats on what is sent. “When I asked for sexy stuff, I thought it would be naked drawings of me with 8 pack abs and a huge wang doodle, was not expecting to see myself fuck Sonic the Hedgehog while riding Rainbow Dash in Narnia while a night elf watched and whacks off to the side.”

And I know they know this stuff exists. And being famous and attractive, it’s almost guaranteed content will be created around you. With that comes explicit content. Porn has been around since forever, it’s basically human nature. Most adult celebrities know that sex sells. But celebrities have the choice and the right to not see it.

I would never force any story I made on whomever it’s written about, adult content or not. I think that’s an important distinction.

Given all that, if anyone from Descendant’s was like, “You know what Psych? I’m not comfortable with those scenes.” I would totally delete them, assuming I can muster it before I die of embarrassment. I feel like my story could totally stand on its own sans adult scenes. Super not a big deal to me, and that’s how everyone should operate. Like these are not our characters and we don’t have an unencumbered right to their likenesses, even if we write original stuff.

So with RPFs, please don’t be weird and send it to them. Otherwise, happy writing. Please tag so I can read it too.

#fanfiction #opinion

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lusilly · 7 years

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teenaged athena

title from Cold Calls (War Music, Continued)

i have finally fucking finished jordan aguilar (sometimes called jordan joyce) aka jabberwock’s Origin Story. jordan is here portrayed as a trans girl but will eventually figure out xe is nonbinary and switch from she/her to xe/xyr pronouns. you can read a ton more about xyr in wheel in the sky.

long story short, xe is the child of athena. when athena shows up like HEY lol there was a prophecy u can be wonder girl now if you want, jordan is like, what the fuck? you abandoned me when i was a baby and now u want me on ur side? Lol ok. athena in this fic is largely inspired by how she was in grucka’s run

also, an encouraging thing to all writers: i started this fic in 2014, wrote a wee bit more in 2015, and am now finally finishing it in 2017. it can be done

March was coming to an end, and although the snow had completely disappeared from Gotham streets, a cold wind still blew in from across the water, chilling the city streets.

There was something eerily quiet about this time of year; not yet blooming with the life of spring, nor lazy with the heat of the summer or early fall, but without the gentle, icy kindness of snow – the end of winter could freeze a body overnight, but provided no relief for the harsh, dangerous edges of the urban landscape. This was, so Jordan had been told, a cape’s favorite time of year. Too cold for crime, too clear, the air too fresh and sharp. A wave of vague disgust washed over Jordan, hanging above the city, crouched on the edge of a sloping roof. Without the snow, people always thought they could manage outside for a night, if they didn’t have anywhere to go. The tail end of wintertime found the city quiet with crime, but all the same lined with bodies in the alleys and silent backstreets.

A voice crackled to life in Jordan’s ear, and she flinched slightly, grimacing. On the line, someone said her name. “Jordan. Where are you? We’re on a schedule and-”

She plucked the tiny machine from her ear, held it in front of her between her thumb and forefinger. She closed her eyes.

The second she began to focus, a flood of sound crashed into her: she heard Niloufar’s voice, from the commlink clear as day, even though she held it before her. She also heard the cars speeding on the streets below her, and the trucks honking as they crossed the bridges out of the city; she heard the TV in the apartment below her, and in the building across from her, she heard a couples’ spat, two people arguing in a tone that caused an ache in her beating heart. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, and she heard a gentle buzzing she was unfamiliar with, something that normal human ears could not pick up, and she could hear dogs barking, people weeping, the bangs of pots and pans and a cat screeching somewhere in the distance, and her head shook, reverberating with sound as she heard Niloufar’s voice not only from the commlink before her, but faintly and far away, from their base underground.

Jordan listened to Niloufar’s voice and her voice alone. She concentrated on that one sound, edging out the people and animals and noises of the city, until all she could hear was Niloufar’s irritated, impatient voice, filling her ears and head.

She squeezed her thumb and forefinger together, crushing the tiny machine. She dropped the remnants into the street before her.

“You shouldn’t do that.” Jordan did not immediately reply. When it became clear he would say no more, she turned slightly and asked, a challenge in her voice: “Why? You can’t afford to replace them?”

Robin’s expression did not flicker. “Your teammate was trying to contact you.”

“I can hear her without it.”

“But you can’t respond.”

She bristled slightly, but said nothing.

Robin followed her gaze, staring out at the city. His hood was drawn up over his head, obscuring his face in shadows. “Batman doesn’t want you out here.”

“I don’t care what Batman wants.”

“Fine,” said Robin coolly. “But this is his city, and even if you don’t care, there are consequences for ignoring his wishes.”

“I’d like to see him try,” muttered Jordan. “I bet he couldn’t touch me.”

Dryly, Robin asked, “Do you?”

Wordlessly, Jordan looked at Robin, then she stood up. She put one foot out beyond the edge of the roof and stepped out into the sky. Slowly, she hovered in the air before Robin, glaring at him. “Batman couldn’t touch me,” she repeated. “He may think Gotham belongs to him, but the guy’s only human, after all.”

“How do you know that?” asked Robin, unfazed by her flight.

“I’ve seen him,” answered Jordan steadily. “I’ve seen his DNA. I can see-” she stopped abruptly, narrowing her eyes, focusing her vision, staring at Robin’s shadowy face. Softly, she said, “I can see everything.”

There was a silence between them. And then, still unmoved, Robin continued, “Batman doesn’t want to fight you. We just need to learn more about your abilities before we allow you to-”

“You don’t allow me to do anything.”

“Yes, we do,” said Robin bluntly. “You don’t think Batman could stop you from working here? Fine, maybe not. I’m sure Superman could.”

Jordan watched Robin, and for the first time, a hint of uncertainty crossed her face. “You’re gonna call Superman,” she asked doubtfully, “on a teenager?”

“A teenager with flight, augmented strength and senses, and superspeed? Absolutely.”

“What’s he gonna do? Wave kryptonite in my face?”

“No,” said Robin patiently. “If that worked, Batman would’ve done it already.”

“Then what-?”

“Your other option,” said Robin, “is to come to our headquarters and let us test you. But you’d have to be unconscious for that. And it could be painful.”

Jordan narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “I’m not some guinea pig,” she said, and there was something like a threat in her voice. “You don’t get to do that shit to me. I don’t know why this is happening, it’s not like you can punish me for something I didn’t even want.”

“That’s our point,” said Robin, and there was no trace of aggression or disdain in his voice anymore. “Don’t you want to know what’s happening to you? And why? You could have powers far beyond those you’re consciously aware of. Jordan – Ms. Aguilar – believe me when I say, we don’t want to take anything away from you. We want to help you. We want you on our side.”

At first, Jordan still hesitated, hovering before him, although the anger had all but melted off her face, leaving a slight hint of fear, but no indignity. Unlike anything else Robin had said, this seemed to get to her, digging at her deep inside, and finally, she nodded, just barely.

“Jabberwock,” she said.

Robin blinked, watching her. He noticed, for the first time, that she was hanging slightly above him, and he had to look up to see her face.

“That’s my codename,” she said. “Jabberwock. Like the-”

“Poem. ‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves.” He paused, then added, “Carroll fan?”

“Not really,” replied Jordan. “But it was better than Azathoth. Or-”

“Cthulhu. Appropriate. And impressive. I was under the impression your entire team was uncultured and uninspired.”

Jordan smiled, but it was more like she was bearing her teeth towards him. “If you ever talk about my friends like that again,” she said, “I’ll rip out your spleen.” The moonlight lit up half of his face, and he looked uncertain. She shrugged, her grin wide and stiff. “Talk shit, get hit, Robin.”

With a certain degree of uncharacteristic awkwardness, Robin lowered his hood, and then he said, “Superman will be here tomorrow night. Will you be able to find us?”

“Yeah,” said Jordan. “You aren’t gonna strap me down and cut me open, are you?”

“No,” answered Robin. “Superman has slightly more finesse than that.”

“Good,” said Jordan. Holding up her arm, she explained, “’Cause I’m pretty sure not even diamonds could cut through this shit.”

Robin bowed his head in a half-nod. Jordan watched him.

Then she said, “See you then, kiddo,” and with a glinting flash, she disappeared.

----

“You’ve got a visual?” asked Niloufar.

“Yep! They’re across from me. Superman can probably see me – I mean, probably hear me too, right? Oh, man, that’ll be kind of awkward, if they ask why you came with-”

“This is Batman we’re dealing with, Spoiler,” interrupted another voice. “He’d be disappointed if we weren’t all here.”

“Well, we’re not all here,” said Spoiler pointedly. “Colin and Lucas-”

“Nell!” said Ellen, sounding upset. “Codenames!”

“Sorry!” replied Nell. “I keep forgetting!”

“Ember, you can see them too?” Niloufar asked.

“Perfectly,” Ellen replied. “I’m a minute or so away, if you need backup.”

“Thanks, Ellen,” said Niloufar. She glanced at Jordan, who was staring straight ahead, unseeing. Niloufar glanced down at the controls, then turned off the feed, so Ellen and Nell could not hear them. She watched Jordan for a second, then, quietly, she asked, “Are you ready?”

“No,” replied Jordan, without hesitation, although she did not shift her steady gaze. “Dammit. No.”

She didn’t say any more for a moment, but Niloufar did not push her, only watched her silently.

With a frustrated, contained sigh, Jordan pulled her hair out of her face, tying it loosely at the nape of her neck. Then she pulled the tie off, shaking her long, dark hair back into her face, running her fingers through it. Niloufar reached out, her fingernails tickling along Jordan’s wrist, then taking her hand.

Jordan pulled her hand away. “This is crazy,” she said, under her breath. “This is Superman.”

“So?” asked Niloufar. “You’re practically Superwoman, Jordan. I bet you could hold your own against him, if you needed to.”

Jordan’s eyes flashed slightly, glancing at Niloufar. “Do you think I’ll need to?”

“No,” said Niloufar firmly. “Of course not. You just said it yourself – this is Superman. He’s not going to hurt you.”

Drumming her fingers against her side, Jordan nodded. “We should’ve brought Lucas, huh?”

“No,” said Niloufar. “We’re fine.”

“But if things go downhill.”

“They won’t.”

“But-”

“Jordan, they won’t.”

“I know!” said Jordan loudly, without looking at the other woman. “God dammit, Niloufar, I know nothing’s gonna go wrong and I won’t have to run or anything, but.” She stopped abruptly. Lowering her voice, she continued, “I just need a way out. Just in case.”

Niloufar watched her carefully, concern on her face, then said, “Ellen just said she’s a minute away. She’s due north of you, the roof on the corner of Kane. The rooftop. Nell’s the opposite direction, street-level. I’ll be here. If you need to, you can always go up. Race Superman into space.” A small smile appeared on her face. “That would be a sight to see.”

Pointedly, Jordan said, “We don’t even know if I could breathe in space.”

“Well,” replied Niloufar reasonably, “you certainly couldn’t breathe, so I think the question becomes whether or not you need to breathe at all.”

There was a short pause. Jordan looked down at Niloufar with her dark, oily black eyes, then leaned down, pressing her lips to Niloufar’s. Quietly, she asked, “Come with me?”

Niloufar blinked. “With you?”

The self-consciousness in Jordan’s eyes, the way she was searching for something on Niloufar’s face, was so foreign that Niloufar felt it like a physical blow, and she was breathless for a moment, then reached out, brushed her fingers along Jordan’s shoulders.

“Yes,” said Niloufar. “OK, yes.” She smiled at Jordan. “Let’s not make them wait any longer, then.”

A moment later, Jordan alit on the rooftop before three men; holding Niloufar bridal-style, she lowered her to the ground, glanced at her, then at the men. Superman stood beside Batman, both huge and intimidating, but Superman markedly more huge and markedly less intimidating, with his bright colors, blue eyes that seemed to shine even in the darkness, and the curl in the center of his forehead. Batman hovered slightly behind him, just as dark and brooding as usual. Robin stood beside them; when Jordan appeared, he stepped forward.

“Jabberwock,” he said, “this is Superman.”

“Yeah,” said Jordan, instantly, “I could tell.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss,” said Superman; his voice seemed inexplicably loud, although he spoke in a low, rumbling tone. His eyes flickered noticeably towards Niloufar, and Jordan spoke.

“This is – Seraph,” she said.

“Hafaza,” corrected Niloufar. At Jordan’s withering look, she added, “Although, I mean, Seraph is OK too.”

Superman nodded, and then began, “Thank you for meeting with us. I’m always pleased to meet a young person dedicating their special gifts to the cause. This shouldn’t take long.”

“What exactly is this?” asked Jordan cautiously. “I’m not gonna be some lab experiment.”

“What?” asked Superman, blinking. “No! This is nothing like that. Didn’t Batman tell you-” he glanced over at Batman, who didn’t move. Looking back to Jordan, he continued kindly, “I’m here because I’m always interested to meet young people with powers such as yours, and because Batman wants to know – as I’m sure you do as well – how you got these powers.”

Her eyes lit up slightly. “Do you know?”

“No,” answered Superman. “My initial impression – that you might be somehow Kryptonian – seems incorrect.”

“Yeah,” said Jordan. “I knew that. I’m not an alien.”

“No,” agreed Superman. “You certainly are not. I would say you are very much a part of this Earth.”

Jordan watched him. “What does that mean?”

“I think,” said Superman, “I’ll let the expert explain.” He glanced up into the sky, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Just in time.”

Behind her, Jordan heard Niloufar let out a slight gasp; she also heard Nell echo the gasp, adding an emphatic, “Holy shit!” which only those with super-hearing could have heard. Her heart heavy, anxiety knotting in her stomach, slowly, Jordan turned around.

The woman’s landing on the roof was far more graceful than Jordan’s had been. Every minute movement seemed elegant and deliberate, and she was all but glowing with power. After a split second, Jordan realized she was gaping, and shut her mouth, self-consciousness washing over her.

“My apologies,” said Wonder Woman, striding across the rooftop. “I would have been here earlier, but there was an emergency in New York.” Jordan was frozen, unable to even think of anything to say. When Wonder Woman approached her, she had to pull her eyes away, her body tensing, anticipating the woman’s penetrating gaze. Silently, she tried to shrink, make herself invisible, something, because she could not bear to see the look on Wonder Woman’s face.

“Miss Aguilar,” said Wonder Woman kindly. “May I call you Jordan? Or would you prefer your codename?”

Jordan glanced up at the woman. Her eyes were a piercing gray, different from Superman’s light, shining gaze – her eyes were deep, like the oceans, like they went on forever. And they were focused solely on Jordan’s own. She did not glance up and down Jordan’s body, she had no suspicion nor judgment on her face, just a simple, open invitation. She offered her hand.

Slowly, Jordan took her hand. “Jordan is OK,” she said, her voice far stronger than she felt.

“It is a great honor to meet you, Jordan,” said Wonder Woman. She shifted her hand up Jordan’s arm, to encircle her forearm. “For my people,” she said, “this is our greeting. To indicate that we are unarmed, and thus come in friendship and peace.” She peered into Jordan’s apprehensive eyes. “As I do for you.”

“For me?” repeated Jordan. She glanced back at Robin, who hardly moved, except for a barely imperceptible nod. Looking once again at Wonder Woman, she said, “Look, I don’t know what this is about, but – I thought you were just gonna, I don’t know, tell me I have a metagene, or something-”

“That’s the thing, Miss Aguilar,” said Superman. “You don’t.”

Jordan stared at all of them, then looked back at Wonder Woman. Her heart seemed to go still in her chest. Wonder Woman did not look away, but only watched her with the most wise, serene expression on her face. Jordan asked her, voice hushed, “What am I?”

“You,” said Wonder Woman gently, pride shining in her eyes, “are a princess.”

-----

“Oh, wow,” said Nell. “Wow, wow, wow. What do I even pack? Do you think they’ll have clothes for us there?”

“I’m sure they do,” answered Niloufar matter-of-factly. “They’re practically ancient Greeks. I doubt they’ll want us wearing modern-day clothes.”

“Great,” said Jordan, her voice a little sigh. “Togas.”

“Actually,” said Nell, going through her cabinets. “I think they’re chitons, in Greece.”

“She’s right,” added Niloufar. “I’ve heard about the libraries on Themyscira. Serious scholars go there for hands-on research about ancient customs. I’m sure things aren’t exactly historically accurate, considering Themyscira is more, you know, kind of fantastical, than ancient times really were-”

“How do you know that?” murmured Jordan. “Maybe everybody was super-strong and could fly, back in the good old days.”

“The Amazons can’t even do that, though,” Niloufar pointed out. “That’s just Wonder Woman.”

“And me,” said Jordan.

Niloufar nodded. “Yes. And you.”

Nell chattered on happily, zipping up her backpack. Jordan and Niloufar met one another’s gaze and did not look away, sharing something silently; Ellen saw this, and chose to say nothing, gently acknowledging Nell’s excitement.

Ellen left soon after that; Jordan offered to walk her home, but she declined. They knew she preferred the solitary darkness of the night, the city air clearing her head, the streetlights and stars lighting up her way home. And they knew, of course, that Ellen could take care of herself.

Jordan’s apartment was in the same building as Nell’s, so it was late by the time she and Niloufar left. Although they offered to stay until Nell’s mother got home – on weekends she worked nights – Nell insisted that they go home and sleep. It would be a big day tomorrow.

Niloufar walked Jordan up to her apartment, holding hands. They stopped outside the door like something out of a teen movie, fingers intertwining, holding their hands up together. Niloufar looked into the other girl’s dark, expressionless eyes.

“Are you OK?” she asked.

“I’ll live,” replied Jordan lowly. “It would take more than a little anxiety to kill me, that’s for sure.”

Niloufar stared into her eyes searchingly, hungrily. “This is it,” she said quietly. “This is the answer to who you are. To why you’re who you are. This is everything.”

Jordan let go of Niloufar’s hands, pulling away slightly. She almost laughed. “I don’t think this’ll give me all the answers,” she said. “Probably just give me more questions. Like, what the fuck is an Amazon doing in Gotham City in the first place.” She laughed, and Niloufar joined her. “But. You know. We’ll see.”

There was a silence. Niloufar leaned up, onto her tip-toes, and gently pressed her lips against Jordan’s. Then she pulled back and said, “I can stay with you tonight, if you want.”

“No. That’s OK. I’m gonna spend some time with Maya, I guess.”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

There was silence. Niloufar reached up and pushed a long strand of hair out of Jordan’s eyes. Jordan took her hand, closing her eyes gently, pressing the other girl’s hand to her lips. Niloufar just watched Jordan silently, vulnerability she was unused to in her eyes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” said Jordan, letting go of Niloufar’s hand.

“Are you excited?” asked Niloufar.

Jordan shrugged. “I would be,” she said, “if I weren’t so fucking terrified.” She grinned easily at Niloufar, then took out her keys, unlocking the door. “’Night, Niloufar.”

“Goodnight, Jordan.”

Jordan slipped into the small apartment, Niloufar returning to the street, where her motorcycle was parked. It was dark in the apartment, and Jordan tried to move silently towards her bedroom. Then a light flickered on, and Maya came into the room, holding the baby in her arms.

“It’s fine,” she said. “Q’s not asleep yet.”

The baby squirmed in her arms slightly, her tiny hands reaching up towards her mother’s face. Jordan didn’t say anything, watching her sister warily.

Maya nodded towards the couch before the small TV. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah,” said Jordan, but she didn’t move.

With a nearly inaudible sigh, Maya moved to sit down, crossing her legs, the baby in her lap, leaning against her stomach. Jordan watched her sister for a moment, then reluctantly moved to the couch as well, sitting beside her. The baby gurgled slightly, looking around at Jordan, who smiled at her. She reached her hands out, scooting closer to Maya to allow the baby to wrap her little hands around one of Jordan’s fingers.

She cooed at the baby, making a funny face. And then, without looking up, she asked, “Did you know?”

Maya held the baby’s tiny body, and let out a little noise, in between a sigh and a groan. “Did I know?” she repeated, sounding tired. “I don’t know. Maybe. I knew something. I mean, Jordan.” She let out a little, harsh laugh. “There was a lot to ‘know’ about you, kiddo.”

“I mean, about this. You know I mean about this.”

“Yeah, I do,” said Maya. “But…I don’t know what to tell you. No, I didn’t know you were, like, Wonder Woman’s little sister. I didn’t know that.”

“I’m not,” said Jordan. “She just said that I’m one of them. I’m not, like, literally related to her.” Maya didn’t say anything. Her eyes were still on the baby, even as Jordan glanced up to look at her. When Maya did not return her gaze, Jordan looked back to the baby again, who resisted slightly against her mother’s touch; Maya gently scooped her up and handed her to Jordan, who held her, rocking the child gently. Quietly, she asked, “Did you know my mother?”

Maya shook her head. “No,” she said, leaning against the back of the couch. “I didn’t know her at all. I think I might’ve seen her once in my whole life.” She was silent. She watched Jordan playing with the little baby. Then she said, “Dad wasn’t expecting you.” A pause. “Mom even less so.”

“I know that,” said Jordan, annoyance flashing on her face, although it was mixed with something like shame. ��I’ve lived in this place eighteen years and you don’t think I know that?”

There was silence.

Then Maya said, quietly, “You were a tough kid, when you were growing up.”

“I know that too.”

The baby made a little sound, as if trying to laugh. Maya watched the child’s face, the corners of her lips just barely turned down. She said, “That didn’t matter, though. It didn’t matter whose kid you were. Mom and Dad loved you. And you’re still my sister. My sister. When Q gets old enough, she’s gonna start calling you Auntie Jordan. How cute is that gonna be?”

Jordan smiled bitterly, playing with the child.

“What I can’t understand,” Maya continued, “is who would have possibly left you.”

“Oh, great,” said Jordan, pretending to roll her eyes. “Cue the whole Now that I’m a mother speech.”

“No,” said Maya, an odd expression of distress and disturbance flickering across her features. “Kind of, I guess, but.” She paused abruptly, then began again: “There are a lot of reasons why a woman wouldn’t be able to take care of her baby. I get that. Of course I do.” She paused, as if thinking about her words. “But what I don’t get is why a woman who’s – why a woman like you, with what you can do – would have to give up a child. What’s crime and hunger and poverty to someone like you?”

“I don’t know,” said Jordan. “Those always seemed pretty important in my life.”

Maya hesitated, there. “I mean, someone like-”

“I know what you mean,” said Jordan, glancing at her sister. “And, look. Wonder Woman thinks that stuff’s pretty important too, you know. She spends her whole life trying to help people.”

“Yeah, OK,” said Maya fairly, “but I really don’t think Wonder Woman’s ever had to hold three jobs to pay rent. Or spent a night on the streets.”

There was a short little silence. Jordan said, “She’s still a good person.”

“She’s a great person. I didn’t say she wasn’t. She’ll be a good mentor for you.”

“You could come and meet her.”

Maya didn’t say anything. The baby opened her mouth wide, looking around at Jordan. Then Maya said, “I don’t really want to. She’s cool, but…Paradise Island is far away from home, in a lot of different ways.”

Slowly, the child’s face turned from an open-mouthed smile into a frown, and immediately Maya leaned forward, taking the baby from Jordan’s hands.

“Now,” she said, “if you could get me in with Batman. That I might do.” She stood up. “Lemme put her to bed.”

“Batman?” called Jordan from the couch, as Maya went into her room, rocked the crying baby, then laid her down. After a few minutes, she came back out, very softly closing the door behind her. She went back to the couch, leaning in towards Jordan, lowering her voice.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice low. “Batman I would do.”

Amusement edging into her voice, Jordan said, “You’ve seen Batman before.” “Sure, I’ve seen him,” said Maya, shrugging. “You know, he’s helped me out a coupla times. But I’ve never met the guy. You know?”

There was a silence. Then Jordan said, “I could probably do that.”

Maya laughed, but quietly, not to disturb the baby.

“I mean, if Robin would help me out. I know him better.”

“Oh, Jordan,” said Maya, standing up, letting out a little breath, then reaching down to pat the top of her sister’s head affectionately. “You have said a lot of things in the past couple years that I never could’ve expected.” She smiled slightly, shaking her head. “But that? Kinda takes the cake.”

She left, heading to the room where the baby slept. “G’night. I’ll be up to say bye, probably.”

“If you’re not?”

“Then let me sleep. Get some rest. You need to be top of your game tomorrow.”

“Right. ‘Night.”

Maya disappeared into the room, flicking the light of the room off as she did so, and Jordan was left there alone. In the darkness, she could hear the baby’s gentle snores, as well as Maya’s movements in the other room. She heard her pad across the carpet to where the baby slept. The sound of a kiss, Maya’s lips on her daughter’s forehead. Even in the blackness of the apartment, Jordan could see nearly perfectly, which was always disconcerting. It was never quite dark anymore, not unless she closed her eyes. And then – if she forgot – then all the noises of the night would flood into her ears. She had powers, yes. But she did not know how to use them. She hardly knew how to control them.

Jordan went to her room, collapsing in her bed, searching for silence, and finding sound and noise where there should have been nothing.

-----

It turned out (Nell was disappointed to know) that the invisible jet is only invisible sometimes, and so they boarded it with no problem. Troia, tall and strong and wondrous in her glorious beauty, assured them that the ride would not be long. Jordan didn’t mind. Her stomach was in knots, roiling deep in her belly.

Her sister had seen her off in the morning. “Bye-bye, Jordan!” she had said, waving the baby’s little hand. “Say bye-bye to Aunt Jordan, Q!”

Q didn’t talk yet, but Jordan had kissed the baby goodbye, and then she’d promised Maya she’d be back safely in a day or two, and then she had gone. And now she was on a jet with Donna Troy – Wonder Woman, it seemed, had other duties – and she was stunned and honored and at the same time she really, really, really didn’t want to be there.

Another Amazon had come with Troia to pick them up; Niloufar was talking to her excitedly, asking her all kinds of questions about the island, trying to learn some ancient Greek, the native language on Themyscira. Nell and Ellen listened in earnest. Jordan had wandered away, peering out at the sky disappearing behind them. She was in the front part of the main cabin, where, at the front, Donna Troy was steering the jet. She seemed to be on the line with someone.

“I don’t think it’s likely,” she said, easily controlling the jet simultaneously, “but you should remind him to keep an eye on them. Maybe stay in Gotham for a while.” A pause. “Yes, but I don’t think it’ll take that long. Kara was different. She was a special case.”

A little, tinkling laugh.

“Yeah, you could say that.” Jordan took an uncertain step backwards, to leave Donna to her conversation; but the woman glanced behind her, then said, “I’ll let you know when I do. I have to go.” And then she took something out of her ear and called, “Jordan? Would you like to join me?”

Jordan’s stomach clenched slightly. “Uh, I didn’t want to interrupt or anything-”

Donna laughed again, that beautiful, perfect laugh which instantly made Jordan feel a little less scared. “You aren’t. I could drive this thing with my eyes closed.” She glanced back at Jordan, with clear blue eyes. “And, to be honest, I was looking for a way out of that conversation anyway.”

Jordan hesitated for a second, then moved forward, taking a tentative seat next to Troia. “Who were you talking to?” She did not answer right away, as if considering the question. And then Donna answered, “Nightwing. He’s in Gotham right now. Have you ever worked with him?”

“No,” answered Jordan. “We don’t really work with anyone outside of Robin.”

“Ah,” said Donna. “And how is he?”

“Annoying,” replied Jordan. “But he gets shit done, so.”

Donna actually laughed at that, heartier and more sincere than her earlier laughs. Less for Jordan’s benefit, and more out of real amusement. “A very valuable trait,” she said. “Nightwing insists he’s a good kid.”

“He is, I guess.”

“That’s good.”

There was a short silence. They both stared out at the vast expanse of sky before them.

Jordan said, “I’m not going to fit in right.”

Donna glanced at Jordan. “What do you mean?” she asked. “On Themyscira?”

Jordan nodded, miserably.

“A lot of us think that a lot of the time, and we’re usually wrong.” When Jordan didn’t reply to this, Donna continued, “The Amazons – my sisters – are better than you give them credit for. They’re not going to hurt you, not with their weapons or their words or anything. You are our sister now, and they will all respect that.”

Jordan looked away. Then she began, “I didn’t mean…”

She trailed off. Donna waited patiently.

Beginning again, Jordan said, “I don’t mean that they’ll make me feel unwelcome. Wonder Woman, you know, she came and got me. Personally. So they’re bound to like me, or something, I guess. But.” She hesitated, glancing at Jordan. “I don’t know. I don’t care what other people are like. But. I feel it sometimes, inside myself. Like I don’t belong. Like I’m not really there.”

Donna listened to this all, but she did not look away from the sky before her. “Like you’re not there?”

“Yeah,” answered Jordan. “Like not me. Somebody else, in my head, but…” she trailed off. Quietly, she said, “I don’t always feel like me.”

There was an aching in Donna’s heart for this girl. She could almost feel the sweet softness of her soul, and yet she was boxed in with ragged edges and sharp corners she’d set up a long time ago, to prevent herself from being hurt by other people. Jordan was anxious, and viscerally afraid, and there was so little Donna could do to alleviate her fear. Jordan did not trust easily.

“Jordan,” said Donna, simple kindness laid out in her voice, “there isn’t anything I can do about that part of you. But you should know that there is no reason for shame or for fear or embarrassment, where you’re going. When I say that you are our sister, I mean it in a very sacred, very ancient way.” She glanced at Jordan finally, flashing her a sincere smile. “We have a bond now, you and I. Inextricable. And it is built from love and compassion, not some poison loyalty we’ll use against you. We – Themyscira – the Amazons – we should not be a ball and chain for you. I hope that when you get there, you see that the only thing we want for you is to realize yourself in the fullest way imaginable.”

“Realize myself?”

“And I don’t mean just your powers. Although we will teach you how to wield your gifts, I also hope we can help you find yourself.”

There was a pause. Jordan watched Donna. “What does that mean?” she asked. “Find myself. You mean on the island?”

“Well,” said Donna fairly, “maybe. Maybe far beyond the island.”

She looked at Jordan, who was still staring at her questioningly.

“You can’t be who you were meant to be,” continued Donna firmly, “you cannot fulfill the destiny that was written for you long ago…if you don’t know who you are.”

She smiled at Jordan kindly.

“On Themyscira,” she said, “I hope, if nothing else, you find a place of belonging, of identity. I hope that we can provide that for you, in whatever shape or form you need.” She chuckled slightly. “I know you come from Gotham,” said Donna, “so this might be a foreign concept to you, but we are a society founded on the laws of friendship, empathy, and mutual trust.”

“Yeah,” said Jordan. “And fighting and being warriors and general badassery.”

Donna’s laugh was loud, then. “And that too,” she admitted. “But all that is tied up with love, as well. We are fierce, this much is true. But more often than not, we’re being fiercely protective of our sisters.” She paused. She glanced at Jordan, who was now staring blankly forward, out at the sky. “Of you, now.”

There was a long quiet. Donna fell into it comfortably, watching over the ship.

And then Jordan said, quickly, “Wonder Woman knows, right?”

Donna glanced at her. “Knows what?”

“You know,” said Jordan, sounding uncomfortable. “About me. I mean, she picked me anyway, right?”

“I don’t think Diana picked you. You were already chosen.”

“Yeah, OK, but, um, Miss Troy-”

“Call me Donna.”

“OK. I mean. You know, right?”

Donna said, “I know you feel like you have a lot to prove-”

“I wasn’t always a girl,” said Jordan, bluntly. “You know that’s what I’m talking about. It’s gonna drive me crazy if everyone pretends they don’t know.” She fell silent. Then, quieter, she repeated, “I wasn’t always how I am now. I don’t even… Sometimes I’m not even sure…”

For a long moment, Donna considered this. And then, slowly, she began to speak: “Yes, Jordan. I knew that. And so does Diana. But – if I may say so – while you may not have always felt a woman complete…” her eyes slid across to rest on Jordan for just a moment, to take in the fear on the girl’s face, the wide vulnerability in her eyes, “…you have always been a woman, where it really matters.”

The younger girl’s head dropped slightly. “That’s easy to say,” she murmured.

“Yes,” said Donna. “It is. But – as I’ve said – I can’t do anything to ease this for you. You will go on your own journey of discovery, and you will define yourself in your own terms. This is something many women struggle with, and we sisters try to help each other through it. You have been doing it on your own for years.”

Jordan said nothing.

“I hope that Themyscira will be a place for you to find security and peace,” she said. “That’s what it’s always been for me, and I don’t quite belong there either. You’ll do well there. Just give it a chance.”

Still, silence.

Donna reached up and flipped a few switches, fiddled with some dials. “We’re almost there,” she said. “Go tell everyone to settle down, we’ll be landing in ten minutes.”

Jordan didn’t move for a second, then she stood up. “OK,” she said. “Donna…thanks.”

Donna nodded, only glancing at Jordan. “Anytime.”

Landing was less intimidating than Jordan had thought. There were only a few Amazons in their reception party, led by Diana. Around them, on the landing bay, women scrambled around, wearing little, their bodies tall and strong and muscled and perfect, managing the equipment. It was extremely intimidating for Jordan, who felt suddenly like a specimen under a microscope, as if everyone was glancing at her when she wasn’t looking, sizing her up. Even if no one was actually doing this, it didn’t feel right. It made Jordan self-conscious and uncomfortable.

Diana welcomed the four of them – Jordan, Niloufar, Ellen, and Nell – and then showed them to their rooms. The rest of the island’s women seemed to disperse, returning to whatever it was they were doing. There seemed to be very little urgency: women gathered in the halls to speak to one another, made their way to sparring and training sessions, carried on making food, tending to the forge. The busiest part of the main palace, where they were led, seemed to be the entrance to the library, thrown open and inviting.

Nighttime begun to leach the light from the sky. After Niloufar and the others fell asleep and the island became quiet, Jordan stepped outside their quarters. She looked up at the sky above them, where every single star shone with a brightness Jordan had never seen, which was indiscernible in Gotham City. The Milky Way gently made its path across the inky black sky, unobscured by smog or cloud cover. Without noticing it, Jordan’s feet lifted off the ground and she rose into the air in the grace of flight.

“Jordan,” called a voice from the ground.

Caught by surprise, Jordan tumbled a little in air, losing her balance and flipping around so she hung upside-down before the person who stood waiting for her on the ground. “Oh,” said Jordan, as Donna Troy smiled up at her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” said Donna, with a little wave. “Someone’s here who wants to see you.”

Jordan righted herself, then alit back on the ground. Cautiously, she asked, “Am I in trouble?”

Instantly, Donna shook her head. “Not at all. It’s just that you look like you’re having trouble sleeping, and she got here early.”

Still suspicious, Jordan asked, “Who got here?”

Donna pointed towards the center of the island. “Pallas Athene,” she said.

Jordan stared at her. “Pallas who?”

“Athene,” repeated Donna. “The goddess. She’s in the keep.”

“The what now?”

“The temple keep,” said Donna, with no hint of impatience. “She’s waiting for you.”

Finding herself a little speechless, Jordan spluttered, “Waiting for me? Why’s she waiting for me?”

Donna only watched Jordan. In the dark night, her gray eyes seemed see-through and spooky. “Jordan,” she began, her voice level, “…that’s why you’re here.”

She took flight after that. Jordan followed her, a little slower and less steady, as they headed towards the highest part of the island, where a beautiful marble and gold building faced the east, as if in anticipation of the rising sun. Donna landed on the edge of the cliff, then headed towards the temple doors, where Diana waited.

Uncertainly, Jordan followed Donna. “What’s going on?” she asked Diana, unable to mask the fear in her voice.

For a moment, Wonder Woman regarded Jordan thoughtfully.

Then she said, “The goddess has requested your presence, Jordan Aguilar. If I’m not mistaken, she has something to tell you.”

“What is it?” Diana shook her head. “It is not my place to divulge a secret that belongs to a god.” “You’re Wonder Woman,” Jordan said, convincingly. “Who cares what the gods say?” With a generous smile, Diana reached out and placed a hand on Jordan’s shoulder. “Athena,” she began, “and the other gods, have granted me my gifts, Jordan. If I am beholden to any laws, it is theirs. You, on the other hand.” Her grip at Jordan’s shoulder tightened slightly, as if indicating urgency. Her smile flattened slightly, became tighter. “You are not.”

Jordan didn’t understand what this meant, but Diana had already removed her hand. She removed something from her belt.

“Take this,” she said, holding out the Lasso of Truth towards Jordan. “Not for the goddess, but for you. I know that it can sometimes be difficult to find our own truth, to examine our own feelings and admit what we truly want, both to ourselves and to others. I hope that the lasso will make that easier on you.”

Now Jordan was scared. “What’s happening?” she asked, refusing to take the lasso. Diana reached out and took her hand, gently placing the lasso in her grip. “What could like, the goddess of wisdom and war and whatever want with me?”

From behind her, Donna spoke. “You aren’t an Amazon, Jordan.”

Jordan turned around, confused. “What?” she asked. Her stomach felt sick. “Then – what am I?”

The doors to the temple swung open. In their wake they revealed a woman, framed in light bright as day spilling out from the temple behind her. Pallas Athena was dressed in a pantsuit, her hair cropped into a neat pixie cut.

“A god,” said Athena, simply.

She offered her hand to Jordan. Donna and Diana both watched Jordan, not the goddess at the temple doors. Glancing between the two of them, Jordan held tightly onto the lasso with both hands. She offered neither of hers to Athena.

Athena shrugged. “Come,” she said, beckoning inwards. She turned and headed into the temple. Nervously, Jordan glanced at Donna, who nodded encouragingly. It took her a few moments, but she managed to pull herself together enough to move forward. Clutching the lasso, she entered the temple.

Inside it appeared to open up into an exterior courtyard, though sunlight lit up the courtyard above blue skies. Jordan knew this was impossible: it was the middle of the night. Cautiously, curiously, she moved forward. Behind her, the doors of the temple swung close.

Athena headed confidently towards a fountain in the middle of the courtyard. Slowly, Jordan started to follow her. She pointed up at the sky. “Why is it daytime?” she asked, raising her voice slightly as Athena’s back was turned towards her.

The goddess glanced around. “It’s always daytime in the temple of the gods,” she said simply. “Themyscira has been blessed by many gods. This was that of my brother, Apollo. Eternal sunlight.” When she reached the fountain, she stopped and turned around, smiling at Jordan. “His twin sister didn’t think it was such a hot idea, but she gave the Amazons many other gifts. I think he felt he had to keep up.”

Jordan stood awkwardly by the edge of the courtyard. Athena took a seat on the side of the fountain, then patted the stone beside her. “Come. Sit with me.”

“Why?” asked Jordan bluntly.

“Because,” answered Athena smoothly, without skipping a beat, “there is something you need to know.”

“I don’t want to play a game,” Jordan told her, feeling a strange surge of confidence. In her hands, the lasso grew warm. “Don’t make me wait. If there’s something you gotta tell me, tell me first. Then I decide if I want to sit with you.”

Athena gave Jordan a small smile. She gestured at the water of the fountain. “It’s a visual,” she said.

“I’m not even gonna glance in your fucking wishing well before you tell me why I’m here.”

From the back of her throat, Athena made a small, approving sound. “Pugnacious,” she said. “Quick to quarrel. I see you take after your mother, Jordan.”

Jordan’s pulse quickened. She took a step forward. “You know who she is?” she asked, her brow knit. “Is she on the island?” That smile never flickered. Athena nodded.

There was a beat of silence, and then Jordan strode forward, lasso in hand. When she reached the fountain Athena held out her hands, and Jordan wrapped the lasso around the goddess’s wrists. “Tell me,” Jordan demanded, her eyes hard. “Who is my mother?”

Athena watched her. Those steely gray eyes pierced her heart.

“I am,” she said.

For a moment, nothing happened. It was as if all things big and small went silent across the world, as if the island froze in time for a moment as Jordan’s heart stopped and then restarted, as if the even the sky above grew suddenly cold, leaving Jordan feeling like her blood was made of ice.

She pulled the lasso away from Athena’s wrists.

“I don’t understand,” she began bluntly, and Athena gestured once more to the stone beside her.

“Please,” said Athena. “Sit with me. I’ll explain everything.” “Everything?”

She bowed her head in a nod. “Everything. I promise you, Jordan.” There was a pause. Jordan didn’t move. “Let’s start from the beginning. Yes?”

Though Jordan did not answer, Athena turned to the fountain.

“A long time ago,” she said simply, “there lived a woman with the most unfortunate gift of Sight. Men kept her in temples, fed her offerings. They worshipped and feared her words.” The reflection in the water of the fountain stirred slightly, something appearing like shining glitter from its depths. Despite herself, Jordan leaned forward, craning her neck to see it. The shadowy figure of a woman appeared there.

Athena watched Jordan. Gesturing with one hand at the water, she said, “The Oracle.”

“Oracle?” echoed Jordan, glancing at Athena. She considered this, then made a face. “I know Oracle,” she said. She pointed at the reflection in the water. “And that’s no Oracle.”

A slight smile tugged on the corners of Athena’s lips. “Of course. I’m happy to see the tradition continues, albeit in whatever shape is necessary for a changing world. But the Oracle of my age used to make prophecies, Jordan. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. That’s what this all is about.” She watched Jordan, who still held the lasso tightly, peering down at the water. “One of her prophecies was about you.”

Jordan looked at the goddess. “Are you serious?” “Very much so,” Athena answered. “As it happens, you take after me that way. A thousand thousand years ago, there was a prophecy about my birth, too. The Oracle told my father that after I was born, another child would be born after me. She told him that this child would be more powerful than he was, and would one day overthrow him to rule Olympus.” She gave Jordan a wry grin. “She was a bit off, though. In time, with my champion’s help, I came to rule Olympus in his stead.” The grin faded slightly, replaced with steely nothingness. “Though the prophecy of the second child remains.”

“You just said I was your daughter,” Jordan pointed out, “not your sister.”

“In my family tree, one can be both,” Athena told her shortly. When Jordan looked alarmed, she reassured her, “But don’t worry. To the other gods of Olympus I am known as Athena Parthenos, the Virgin.”

Skeptically, Jordan said, “I thought Artemis was supposed to be the virgin goddess.” Athena’s eyebrows raised approvingly. “Ah,�� she said, crossing her legs. “So you know more about your heritage than I thought.” “Not really,” responded Jordan, with some belligerence. “I skimmed through Wikipedia a little but that’s it.”

Waving this away with one hand, Athena continued, “A lot of us were virgin goddesses back then. It was a convenient way for our worshippers to think of us, because otherwise we became mothers or harpies or whores. My sister and I didn’t have much choice in the matter. But it was only a title,” she added, leaning in slightly. “Not necessarily true in practice, as evidenced by your existence.”

Jordan looked away from the fountain, back up at Athena. There was a frown on her face. “Why my dad?” she asked.

It looked for a moment like Athena was not going to answer this question. And then she shook her head, looking finally away from Jordan’s face.

“I don’t know,” said Athena honestly. “If I wanted to, I could tell you that the stories told of a man with jet-black hair from beyond the southern reaches who was fated to bring me joy and grant me with a child. But that would place too much stock in fate I think. The truth is that I hardly knew your father, Jordan. I don’t think that’s so bad.”

“It’s not,” Jordan said stonily. “But forgetting to stick around to raise the kid you popped out kind of is.”

In the silence that followed this, an owl hooted. It flew to Athena’s shoulder, but she shooed it away.

“Half-bloods cannot live in Olympus,” she told Jordan shortly. “I had no other option.”

“That’s bullshit,” said Jordan, rolling her eyes and shouldering the lasso. “But OK.”

“I want you to hear the prophecy,” Athena said, with some urgency, like a plea. “Just listen to what it says. Then we can talk.”

“Were we not already talking?” asked Jordan doubtfully. “Is that not what we’re doing right now?”

Ignoring this, Athena turned back to the fountain. She trailed the tips of her fingers along the surface of the water, and a woman’s figure appeared once more, shadowy and indistinct. From nowhere and everywhere at once, a voice came rising up, as if whispering directly into Jordan’s ear, resounding in her head of its own accord.

A girl-child arrives underneath the summer sun, begot of a mortal man and the Virgin Goddess… The aegis-inheritor comes crowned with a wreath of spears and armor gifted by the gods, a hero to inherit Olympus, a daughter of the Amazons and of the goddess herself, forged in fire, tempered by the flames… And the daughter will serve her liege as champion as no champion has served before, and be rewarded with every honor the gods can bestow… A girl-child arrived underneath the summer sun, begot of a mortal man…

As the figure in the fountain began to repeat her prophecy, Athena once more trailed her fingers across the water. The sight dissipated. Athena watched her daughter.

“That girl-child,” she said, “is you.” Jordan stared at Athena, trying to take all of that in. And the daughter will serve her liege as champion…

“You didn’t even know I was a girl-child,” said Jordan.

Athena didn’t deny this. “Not until recently, no.”

“You just, like. Lost track of me in the meantime, is that it?” “I have lived millennia, Jordan,” Athena told her, sounding almost bored. “Forgive me if I had duties which outweighed watching a baby grow up.”

Jordan realized she was clenching her teeth. She thought about Q, her sister’s baby, about how she was probably sleeping soundly somewhere in Gotham right now. Suddenly, Jordan missed her terribly.

“That’s bullshit,” said Jordan simply.

This did not immediately appear to faze Athena. “Is it?” “You didn’t want me,” continued Jordan, hot anger gathering in her belly, “until you realized that I might be the stupid kid from your stupid prophecy. Until I realized I might be able to help you out in whatever you’re trying to do here. I don’t know what the fuck you need a champion for and I don’t know why the fuck your old ones weren’t good enough, but you can bet I’m not going to get down on my knees and thank you for whatever honors you try bestowing on me just ‘cause you suddenly realized you wanted me. No,” she said firmly, clutching the lasso tightly. Gently, it glowed. “You left me with my dad and didn’t give a shit until today. I don’t care what that stupid prophecy says. I’m not your daughter, and I’m not your champion. I’m not your anything.”

There was a long, painful pause.

Athena nodded. “Your resentment and your pain is fair,” she said coolly, as if Jordan hadn’t just basically told her to go fuck herself. “I have no objection to that. I have no excuses to give you, because it is as it seems. I didn’t realize how important you were until I saw how the prophecy was already being fulfilled. Jordan, my last champion was Princess Diana, your Wonder Woman. Even she did not possess all the gifts you have.”

“No,” said Jordan again, resolute. “I don’t give a shit.”

“I’m not asking you to immediately pledge your fealty to me,” Athena continued, pleading. She reached out and took hold of Jordan’s hands, but Jordan pulled them away. “What I want to do for you, now, is to give you the opportunity to serve a higher purpose. To honor your true calling. I do not know if you ever met my sister, Cassandra Sandsmark, daughter of Zeus-”

“Nope,” said Jordan, arms crossed.

“Well, she was once known as Wonder Girl. She no longer holds that title.” Athena watched Jordan. “It’s no Olympus,” she told her, sympathetically, “but I would like to offer you Themyscira, if you’ll accept. Come train with the Amazons, your sisters. They will teach you everything they know. They’ll make you the greatest warrior this world has ever seen. You could be so strong, daughter,” said Athena urgently. She stood, reaching out to take Jordan’s shoulders. Jordan was almost taller than she was. “So brave. So wise. Let me teach you.”

“Don’t touch me,” Jordan said, jerking herself away from Athena’s touch. “When you thought I was a boy you were happy to abandon me and never look back. You aren’t allowed to start caring for me the second I start being what you wanted.”

“Jordan-”

“No,” repeated Jordan. She took a few steps back, then shook her head. “I shouldn’t have even fucking come here to begin with,” she said aloud, to no one in particular. “But I guess Niloufar liked the fucking library. So.”

Jordan turned away from a goddess, and she headed straight back to the doors of the temples. Though they groaned when she opened them, open they did, and she found Donna and Diana waiting for her on the other side. “Jordan,” said Donna immediately, in surprise. “How – did it go?”

The doors swung shut behind her, plunging them back into moonlight. Uncertain how to answer this, Jordan took the lasso off her shoulder and handed it back to Diana.

Eventually, glancing between the two women, she admitted: “Not great.”

Donna looked slightly stricken, but Diana just gave a little laugh. “It’s all right,” she said, to both Jordan and Donna. “I could describe plenty of encounters with Athena similarly. She may be the Goddess of Wisdom, but she can be a bit thick sometimes.” Jordan gave an uncomfortable smile.

It was Donna who asked. “Alright,” she began. “Well, Jordan. I understand the goddess had a kind of proposition for you. And as the original bearer of that name, the first Wonder Girl, I’d like to have the honor to pass down the legacy-”

“Oh,” said Jordan. “I’m not doing that.”

There was an awkward pause. Donna glanced at Diana, who asked kindly, “Not doing what?”

“Wonder Girl,” answered Jordan, glancing around as if unsure why this was a big deal. “I kind of don’t like the name. Really gendered, you know? I think I’m gonna stick with Jabberwock.”

Though both women seemed ever so slightly taken aback, Diana recovered first. “Of course,” she said. “It suits you. Should you desire any training, we are completely at your service.”

“Honestly?” said Jordan, making a face. “I think I want to go home. I’m kind of pissed off by this whole thing and it’d be great to just kind of go and see my sister and her baby right now.”

Donna blinked. “Now?”

Jordan shrugged. “I guess in the morning is OK.”

Again, there was a short silence where Donna and Diana exchanged glances. And then Diana rose gracefully into the air. “Certainly,” she said, hovering above the cliff side. “We will return you and your friends home to Gotham when morning comes, unless you decide otherwise.”

“Thanks,” said Jordan.

Donna reached out, gently placing a hand on her arm. “Do you need anything?” she asked. “Do you want to talk?”

Jordan, too, rose into the air. “No thanks,” she said. “I’ll be OK. It’ll buff out.” She lifted up to Diana’s side, then punched her in the shoulder. “Hey, thanks for everything,” she said. “This may have sucked, but it’s good to finally know. Right?”

Then she flashed a winning grin at both Donna and Diana, and she headed back across the island towards her quarters.

------

When they took off in the morning, Niloufar was not happy. “You’re welcome to visit the island whenever,” Diana told her, piloting the jet. “That goes for all of you. Allow it to be your second home.”

Even Ellen peered wistfully out the windows as the plane lifted into the air, but Jordan didn’t regret it. She wanted to be far from this place and far from that dumb prophecy and from the smiling woman she now knew to be her mother.

Disembarking in Gotham – Batman had provided a landing dock somewhere slightly outside of Gotham – Diana took Jordan aside before she let her go off with the others.

She removed something from her forehead, and held it out to Jordan.

“I want you to have this,” she said, quietly.

Brow knit in confusion, Jordan looked up at Diana. “What?” she asked. “No. I can’t take that.”

“Yes,” answered Diana patiently. “You can.”

“Why would I?” asked Jordan skeptically. Behind them, the others talked and laughed, curiously relieved to be back home. “I told Athena I didn’t want to be a part of your whole thing. I don’t need Wonder Woman’s tiara.”

“It’s not a tiara,” said Diana.

“Yeah, it is,” replied Jordan bluntly, pointing at the thing. “I’m looking at it right now, that shit’s a tiara.”

Still, Diana held it out, but gave a conciliatory nod of her head. “Tiara it may be,” she admitted, “but it’s forged from Athena’s aegis. That means it belongs to you, aegis-inheritor.”

Jordan wasn’t even sure she really knew what an aegis was, but all she could do was hold up her hand, refusing it. “No,” she said again. “I don’t want her aegis thingy. I don’t want to owe her anything, not even kooky magical protection.”

“It’s not her aegis thingy,” Diana told Jordan plainly. “It’s mine. The gods granted me with it years ago. I want you to have it.”

Jordan stared at her. “Me?” she asked doubtfully. “I just totally rejected your whole thing. I’m not exactly a Wonder-fan. I’m sure a lot of people would lose their shit about that aegis, but – like, it’s OK. Keep it.”

Diana’s hand did not move. “You’re not taking it because you don’t want it, Jordan,” she said. “You’re taking it because you don’t think you deserve it.”

For a full half a minute, Jordan stared at Diana’s face.

And then she snatched the tiara out of her hand. She placed it askew on the top of her head then stood up straight, displaying it proudly.

“Fuck off, Wonder Woman,” she said, though it was with little venom in her voice. “Nobody tells me what I think I deserve except for me.”

She turned and stalked away, back towards Niloufar and the others, leaving a little smile tugging at the corners of Diana’s lips.

#jordan joyce #sog2 #wonder woman #donna troy #niloufar ghorbani #ellen nayar #nell little #damian wayne #those last 3 are more like cameos but Yeah here u go #earth 28

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