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iiseor · 7 hours

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puppy | E.W

first time writing full smut . . so be gracious pls. i don't rmb ib . . so tag if u do lol — cw: sub!ellie, loser!ellie, fem reader, both afab, sex (duh), slight dacryphilia, fingering, cunnilingus, mommy kink, scissoring, cum eating, dom!reader, lol lol okay . . think thats all 🐈‍⬛ UNEDITED so ignore errors ty

"I need her so bad.” you say as you drag a cigarette between your lips, digging through your pockets in search of a lighter. The evening was loud, you and Dina has stepped out of the house to break from the over crowded party — the whether damp and gloomy making it look like midnight already. You groaned as dina took the cigarette out of your mouth, lighting it as she grew impatient waiting for you to finish digging through your pockets. "Did you even hear me?" You scoffed standing up to grab the now lit cigarette from her hands. Dina rolled her eyes at you, slightly laughing at what she thought, was your stupidity. "Shes to innocent for you babe" she replied after blowing out the smoke. "Yea? I'm sure nobody's that innocent. ." You replied taking another inhale from the cigarette. “You remember when i had to tutor her on sex ed?!" Dina laughed louder though her words, you scoff “that means nothing, maybe she needed help finding-" Dina cut you off with an even louder laugh, you rolled your eyes once again and shoved past her — stomping on the cigarette as you walked back into the house.

It was your sophomore year of college, at first — you were dreading moving back into your dorm the moment you found out you would have to move into a double this semester. Lucky for you, that all changed the moment you realize who your roomate was. Ellie. . the girl you've been practically obsessed with for as long as you can remember. God was she a fucking loser—but you loved it. The way she subtly watched you in admiration thinking you never noticed, the way she'd follow you around like a lost puppy whenever you hanged out in large groups . . She was an addiction to you — and you needed more. With her bed right across from yours, your mind spiraled with the ideas of her every time the sun set. When you finally fell asleep, all you could dream about was the way she’d sound underneath your grip . . fuck it killed you. You knew ellie was inexperienced, definitely not innocent like dina described it . . but she had never been with a girl the way you had been with a girl — you hated it, but we're also obsessed with the idea of being her first full body.

standing in front of the door to your dorm, Dina scoffed before you turned around to face her. "Suddenly you're nervous?" She questioned looking at you with an attitude, "I'm not . . fuck off dina" you responded. It was midnight now, actually midnight, and the two of you finally made it back to campus. Clothes drenched by the sudden storm — you turned away from the black haired girl and pulled out your dorm key. "I'll be praying for you, but i still don't think you have a chance!" Dina said, walking off before you could respond. You sighed heavily leaning your head back before you fully unlocked the door walked inside shaking your head. You hang up your soaked jacket and lift off your T-shirt leaving a tank top underneath. Throwing the wet t-shirt into your laundry hamper, you're caught off gaurd by the sounds of groans.

"Els?" You question walking into kitchen, making her jump. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you . . But you're really loud" you laughed. Ellie sighs through a laugh and turns back to her papers placing her pencil down on the counter. You walked closer to her, studying her expressions in an attempt to read her feelings. Watching her for a few moments in silence, you view her furrowed eyebrows as she chews on the eraser of her pencil. Moving even closer to lean over her shoulder, your breathe against her skin catches her off gaurd. "Need any help?" You question, slightly dragging your fingers up and down her exposed arms. Ellie smiled to herself before responding, "like you could help me" she scoffed sarcastically and you frowned "what is that supposed to mean?" You questioned, and ellie turned around to face you, you — backing up slightly so your eyes could meet once she's adjusted in her chair. "I just mean . . you know, I'm smart. . It's okay" her words made you laugh, "oh I know you're smart baby, but you look so stressed" you said patting her head, nearly petting her as she blushed at your response. "so pathetic" you thought in your head, your

teasing was ever so slightly, yet just enough to make her a re mess. Standing just above her, Ellie's eyes uncontrollably meet your chest — staring for a moment before she catches herself and looks away. You giggle as you watch her, causing sudden embarrassment to flush over her. "My eyes are up here" you said lifting her chin to face you, "i wasn-" Ellie's voice was shaky as she met your eyes again — nearly trembling over how close you two were. "I'm sorry" she barely gets out through a voice crack. You bite your lips hiding a smile as you look down at her, caressing her cheeks with your thumb. You hummed, pulling your body on top of hers in a straddle position—ellie's body slightly shocked by the sudden contact. "Look at me" you said as she tried to look in any other direction, before obeying your words and looking up at you. "have you done this before?" you questioned her remaining eye contact, your softer now — somewhat soothing her firing anxiety. Ellie shook her head, staring at you like a deer caught in the headlights. You chuckled, still soothing her cheeks with free hand — the other one caressing her thigh. "Have you thought about it?" You asked her bluntly, your voice just barely above a whisper as your faces were now closer than ever — lips Barry just brushing over eachother as ellie did nothing but whine in response. "use ur words baby . ." You responded, using your free hand to grab her jaw, forcing eye contact. "Yes" she stuttered through her response and you smirked, her breathe heavily filling the room already. "Tell me then . . . have you thought about?" You whispered again, eyes now on her lips.

"you . . I've thought about you" she blurted out, your eyes dragging up from her lips and onto hers. those words was all it took for you to pull her up, making her stand with you as you dragged her over to the living room and onto the couch. obediently, she sits down on the cushions as you tower over her — watching her fidget in her seat before you move to straddle her again. holding her chin with your hand, you pull her lips into yours aggressively — guiding her hands onto your waist. Ellie grips your sides as you slightly grind yourself against her — the small friction sending her into a trance. struggling to focus on your lips, distracted by her desperate attempts to feel you — you pull away from the kiss giving her a moment to breathe. "What do you want me to do?” you whisper, your breathe brushing her lips. Ellie whines and you grip her chin harder, "use your words . ." You add onto your words, causing her to whine again and choke out a response. "please . . touch me" she says softly — you smiling at her words.

pushing her down onto the couch, your mouth is on her lips again — even more aggressive then before, and Ellie wines as you make your way down her body. Dragging down her bottoms, you gently brush your hand over her boxers — ellies breath growing heavier with every touch. slowly enough to make her whine, you pull down hee boxers and push your hand up her body before dragging it back down. "

“You’re so pretty” You whisper, ellies eyes fluttering as her face grew red. "has anyone else ever seen you like this?" you questioned with your hand caressing her thigh again, your eyes watching it before you move them to look at her. ellie shakes her head before letting out a quiet "no", her response making you smile as you dragged your hand from her thigh onto her cunt, a moan escaping her lips in response to the sudden pleasure. Her desperation has you over the edge. She's a mess as you continue to rub her clit before bring your mouth down. your tongue gently moving up and down causes desperate 'pleases' to escape her mouth. Looking up at her with your head still between her legs, you move your down to her entrance. Without warning, you push two fingers into her cunt slowly — the suddenness causing a loud "fuck" to come out of her mouth.

"so perfect" you whine out, leaning down to latch your mouth into her clot — sucking onto it as you speed up your pace. fingers pumping in and out of her, ellies moans filled your ears — causing your own pleasure to form below. "f-feels so good. ." She whines out, her voice breaking as she attempts to hide her moans. Her words spark something within your body, making you increase your pace — the wetness between your mouth still sucking on her clit, and the juices spilling from ber cunt, causing you to moan into her. "I'm gonna-" she attempts to speak but cuts herself off with another loud moan.

"Not yet baby . . wanna hear you" you breathe out louder than before, removing your mouth for a slight moment to speak before pushing yourself back into her. she was an addiction, her sweet taste making it nearly impossible for you to stop. Tears spilled from ellies eyes as she attempted to obey your commands, grinding her hips into your face and fingers — she was entirely overwhelmed. "p-please, please let me cum.” She cries, her new tone causing you to smile to yourself.

Removing your mouth from her, your fingers still at a steady pace, you lean over her and use your free hand to grab her face harshly. "Say it again" you instructed her, her eyes still filled with tears as she practically yelled out her response. "Please- please mommy, please I need it.” Her words sending electricity throughout your body and you grow needy. With your own wet spot grown on your shorts, you remove your fingers from inside her causing her to whine loudly. Moving the fabric aside, you push your body onto hers. Careful not to waste time, you alone your clit with hers — holding her body down just enough for you to aggressively grind against her. The two of you moaning loud enough for whoever might be walking by the rooms to hear, shamelessly shes yelling your name as you fuck her ruthlessly. "it's . . Too much please, please y/n" she whimpered out, you aggressively pushing yourself down onto her harder, "take it baby . . you're doing so good. ." You responded, your tone sympathetic to her cries. ellie attempts to grind herself against you, desperate to put work in. "I need to cum, please let me cum, it- y-you f-feel so fucking good" she cries out louder than ever and you can feel your own release coming on with every grind against her soaking clit. "Cum with me baby . . . cum with mommy" you ordered in a husky tone, your voice alone being enough for her orgasm to come over her.

Before she could come down from her climax, you lifted yourself off of her — a string of your releases trailing off of your clit as you shifted your body down once again, pushing your mouth into her cum filled cunt. Ellie whimpered as you took her in, savouring her taste and sucking on her ever so slightly — being cautious of her sensitivity. Releasing your mouth from her body, you looked up at her — her hair a mess and her eyes still watery as she attempted to catch her breathe. You began kissing up her body until you reached her face, caressing her body up and down gently, she did the same with what strength she had left in her. "such a good girl" you whispered out, your eyes meeting her reddened face causing you to smile. "mmmm . ." You moaned into her lips as you pulled her in for a more gentle and passionate kiss.

"you did so good baby" you said barely moved away from her lips, "so so good" you added on, caressing her blushed face as her eyes — still dampened from her heavy tears, fluttered tiredly in response to your praises.

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strawberries-and-summer-days · 2 days

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ITS NOT MIDNIGHT ANYMORE . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

pairing: Show!Luke Castellan x apollo!fem!reader!

warnings: swearing + derogatory names i think thats about it

a/n: alrighty!! we're here for the final round of this whole part series thingamajig. i kinda put this off cause i know luke's gotta make a whole oscar worthy speech and i was worried my writing wouldn't cut it lol. but anyhoo i hope you enjoy!!

part one: midnight troubles | part two: meet me at midnight

what.

the.

fuck?

wait... no yeah, what the fuck?

"what?" your voice is quiet and you turn around slowly, your eyes narrowed.

"...because, i- i love you,"

"you're telling me that you don't want to be friends... because you love me?" you eye luke. "you think you can just say you love me and i'll throw myself at your feet and all with be right again?" you take a menacing step forward. "you think you can tell me a lie and get out of this?"

luke's eyes shine with an unrestrained emotion you can't quiet place. "you think i'm lying?"

another step forward. "yes."

luke takes a hesitant step forward. "im not," his voice is soft.

"you are."

"i'm not."

"bullshit."

the look in luke's eyes cause you to hesitate for a moment. is he actually being serious right now?

"then what the fuck luke?" your arms fly out and you drop them. "what in the ever-loving-actual-fuck is wrong with you?" you shake your head and try to repress the anger bubbling beneath your skin. "you think you can just throw this shit in my face? i've been in love with you for years. years. do you see me acting like the worlds biggest asshole? no! do you see me freezing up when someone calls my best friend a slut or a whore? no! do you see my trying to get out of this whole fucked up situation by telling my best friend that i don't want to be their friend and that i'm in love with them? NO!" you heave you breath coming out harshly.

"w-what?"

"i-i'm just done luke," you say quickly barely even noting you'd just told him you love him in your anger.

"y/n-"

"i'm done!" you snap stepping back from him. "i'm giving you until tomorrow afternoon to sort your shit out, and work out whatever the fuck you want to say or do. but after that, we're done. this-" you motion between the two of you- "is done. luke and y/n? over. we're fucking done. you've got," you look down at your watch. "like eighteen hours, and considering how long it takes you to answer, you better get cracking." you roll your eyes and walk away from the twinkling glow of the fairy lights. not even caring when you step in a puddle from percy's shenanigans earlier today. not even caring that it's dark.

your world has been dark for a week.

~~~

everyone in camp could tell you and luke had some sort of falling out. it was obvious when you didn't sing this morning, it was obvious when you didn't come and watch him train, it was obvious when you had brushed past him and he had looked torn, it was most definitely obvious when luke had somehow managed to be bested during sword sparring.

and that was what had set campers off.

sides had started to be chosen and feuds had started to form.

chaos was brewing already and it had only been a day. rumours about what happened - curtesy of the grape bitch, you wanna say phyllis..? - had formed and spread like wildfire.

it was almost scary how much unknown power you both had over campers.

so now you're sitting on the beach watching as the waves lap against the shore contemplating if you should just hunt luke down and smack him instead of talking - it seems really reasonable you guys.

"hey..." a deep voice comes from behind you.

"hello."

luke's warm presence appears behind you and it takes everything in you to not lean into it.

"so..." you start, hoping luke gets the idea.

"so yeah..." luke sighs. "y/n, please, listen to me- no hear me out okay? just let me get this all out and then you can yell at me." he takes a deep breath and lets it all out in one go.

"i love you. i've loved you since the day you showed up at camp all grumpy and refusing to socialise with anyone except me. i love the way your singing can create immense peace, i love the way you scrunch your nose whenever you get embarrassed. i love the way your face lights up when campers come and talk to you. you're a star in the night sky, shining brighter everyday. you're my best friend and im hopelessly- desperately in love with you. i have been since forever. and i'm the world biggest asshole for letting the shit that went down last week happen. please, please, forgive me. i'll do anything."

your heart burns with every word he says. luke's eyes shine with barely unrestrained emotion and his face is the epitome of adoration.

you're both so wrapped up in his words that you don't notice the small gathering of campers at the edge of the sand watching the two of you. each of them, though they've chosen sides luke or y/n, they all hope for the same thing.

luke lifts his hand and gently tucks a stray curl behind your ear. "please say something."

"um..." you breathe, struggling to find the right words to say. "wow."

luke looks at you so earnestly it hurts your heart.

"luke... i love you. i. love. you. do you get that? i've been practically obsessed with you since i showed up at camp. and you fucking hurt me last week, some big speech isn't going to change that."

"y/n," luke starts.

"luke listen to me please." you breathe out shakily. "i don't want to lose you, but i can't- i just can't-" you're cut off when luke's soft lips press onto yours.

the kiss is soft, searching, hopeful. you lean into it slightly and the campers watching nearby silently start to celebrate.

but then you come to your senses.

pulling away, you look at luke with tears in your eyes. "no luke, no. you can't kiss me and make it all go away. you cant just kiss your way out of this. i love you and its tearing me apart."

"y/n," his voice is filled with anguish.

"its physically hurting me luke. it hurts." tears are freely streaming down your face now. "it hurts so fucking much that the one person i trusted to stand up for me, the one person i trusted with my whole being can't even defend me in a petty situation like that. how am i supposed to move on from this knowing my best friend in everything can't even stand up for me?"

tears shine in luke's eyes.

"so no luke. no. i don't care what you have to say anymore. this-" you motion between the two of you. "is done. im done. i love you but i love myself more."

you stand up then, tears falling down your face like waterfalls. "see ya round lukey."

two broken words a wrenched from luke's throat then. "no. please."

"i'm sorry..."

a/n pt2: ummm soo im very sorry for that yeah.... sorry about that ending of the series (if its wanted enough i'll make another part maybe possibly)

TAGLIST: @iammightsadyall, @y0urm0m12, @just35yrsandtrying, @kaceyh24, @dancing-inasnowglobe, @purplerose291, @shoyofroyoyoyo, @purple-imaginess, @spqrkles, @itz-lilywelch, @d1lf-loverrr, @cassiopeia-core

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan fic #luke castellan pjo #luke x reader #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson fic #fanfic #fanfiction #emma writes ₊˚⊹⋆

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scrollonso · 2 days

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Hi I’d actually LOVE to hear more about the way you view Strollonso dynamic because a) the way you write about them makes ME feel insane and b) I am also attempting to write fic of these two and require all the references I can so I can feel at least marginally confident dipping my toes in rpf

Anyway keep being amazing and being awesome with your writings!! I hope we can all survive our parasocial relationship with this 20something rich white boy!!!

i have SO MUCH to say.

okay lets start off with their different instagram useage. lance hardly ever posts (averaging like 1 post a month) but nando on the other hand... (like 4 posts a week) so with this difference we get fernando mentioning and talking about and posting and praising lance and its so sweet because hes not doing it for lance to see hes doing it because he MEANS it.

then the fact that theyre so touchy for literally no reason and this isnt even new in 2017 (i believe) fernando was touching all up on lance after he got a podium and now that theyre teammates theres always some kind of contact going on (nando grabbing lances neck, arm, hands, hugging, etc.)

and yk i cant NOT mention the "happy you are not in alpine?" video because HELLO. the way lance walks over and grabs him straight away with a "yes, man" then when nando realizes its lance his whole face lights up. UGH. then when they hugged they were so close, lances lips practically against fernandos skin as he spoke like god get a rooommmmm... AND NANDOS HAND ON LANCES FACE? like he full on cupped lances cheek and the eye contact and smiles?? u dont do all this with a teammate u dont want to fuck.

then when nando won "overtake of the month" and told the woman interviewing him that he didnt vote for himself but for "this guy" (lance) like in what world are you VOTING for your TEAMMATE who in most cases is your biggest competition??

and back to their hugs, any time they hug its never a half assed side hug its always both arms tightly around eachother smiling talking chests pressed together like U DONT HUG JUST ANYONE THAT CLOSELY??

then when lance got p5 and nando got p3 (dont remember what race) and while celebrating with the team nando put a hand on his face again and one on his waist?? and people say they have a "father son dynamic" 😣

i posted abt this a while ago but them walking together is like my favourite thing ever because theyre so close and aware of eachother its like theyre two teenagers with a crush 😭 then ofc that video of nando waiting for lance because he was walking slow like ugh theyre so sweet

then we know lance obvi doesnt enjoy media much and usually has a poker face or is showing the person talking to him that he isnt enjoying the conversation but as soon as he sees fernando or he gets involved he has the biggest toothy grin on his face like i know your cheeks hurt after geeking over this man so much

and we're all aware that nando is practically known for being evil and mean and having big rivalries with his teammates (besides carlo they're my babies) but thats never been a problem with lance theyve genuinely always been just love and had this sweet bond and dynamic since before nando and lance even thought of joining aston and its beautiful

also i adore how they basically refuse to fight eachother or risk their relationship its so sweet and its a very unique thing to see because this is a sport and thats the whole point. from lance saying he wasnt going to fight because it was fernando and nando giving lance his brake information because he knew it would help it really shows just how mature they are and how in the end they value their relationship and their teams performance as a whole so they put that above fighting eachother.

#kat talks #this is more rambling #but u get it #im so normal about them #f1 #formula 1 #lance stroll #fernando alonso #aston martin #ls18 #strollonso #fa14 #1418 #i love them #my babies #old man x twink #the best dynamic

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celestie0 · 3 days

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🪷 CTFUUUUUU your gojo and reader sex tape post was so hilarious omg. Ngl to me they don't give the vibes of a couple that make one (I don't mean this as an insult omfg now that I wrote it it sounds rude as hell) but the type who are professional phone fuckers.

Doja cat's Cyber sex is their national anthem I just know it I had a little locker room talk with reader she told me 😙. And yeah what you said abt gojo's schedule being all over the place as a player I'd thought that too, which is why phone sex is 🔛🔝 for these two. Just two freaky frogs omg I know that dude sluts her out bad and she doesn't want it any other way

He's a player (the *other* type of player) too so ofc he'd have expertise in the area of tasteful nudes but reader's learning curve will be so exponential gojo would be left in the dust in a short amount of time😁 RIP BOZO‼️

Imagine a little roleplay scenario where reader dresses up as a cheerleader for gojo after he returns from winning some final match as a victory treat. That dong goes up at an angle of elevation so steep you could make a mean trigonometric question off of it. I need him BAD I need him esp when he's sweaty after a gym or practice session I'd climb that man like jack was climbing that beanstalk.

Anyway I hope you've been doing well sweets! Thanks for being so nice to me in your last ask and I cannot wait to see what you have in store for us I wanna see that horndog be his authentic slutty self around reader finally 🗣️🗣️

Imagine a little roleplay scenario where reader dresses up as a cheerleader for gojo after he returns from winning some final match as a victory treat.

oh dear sweet baby jesus the scream i SCRUMPT AT THIS…HOW HAVE I NEVER THOUGHT OF THAT oh mygooodd that’d be so fuckin hot 😩😩😩 i ran to add that to my notes LOL my head is in my hands i need to write that so fucking bad. HIM RAILING HER WHILE SHE’s WEARING A SKIMPY LIL CHEERLEADER COSTUME AFTER HE JUST PLAYED AN INTENSE GAME babe u cooked w this ty

HAHAHA i feel like they would make a sex tape but they obv wouldnt post it or anything lol it’d just be something they’d do when they’re both drunk asf while on vacation in their hotel room n then they freak out once they get home n realize they lost the flashdrive n someone out there in barcelona is now jerking off to their amateur avante garde porno

And yeah what you said abt gojo's schedule being all over the place as a player I'd thought that too, which is why phone sex is 🔛🔝 for these two. Just two freaky frogs omg I know that dude sluts her out bad and she doesn't want it any other way

okay you’re so right ab cyber sex being (at least post grad) kickoff couple’s anthem 🤧 that “i wish u were here rn” yup. but also LMFAO THATS SO TRUE AB THE SLUTTIN HER OUT he’d have her so downbad she’s flashing her titties at the webcam just cuz she wants to see him cum all over his stomach while he’s jerking himself off to her pixels ✋🏼😩 i was not anticipating to start this day off so horny LOL

idk i like to think all the nudes kickoff gojo has received in his life have been raunchy asf so when he’s so desperate to get a glimpse of kickoff reader while he’s away for work n is like “babe send me a pic please” for the first time n she sends something that’s genuinely really tasteful n artistic n subtle but sexy n leaves a bit to the imagination i feel like that wld drive him more insane than any explicit nude ever would HAHAHAHA

THE DONG GOIN UP YOU COULD PERFORM TRIG ON IT IM CRYING babe i wish to be half as funny as you are some day 🤣🤣

thanks my lovee omg im so happy you’re looking forward to it :””) 💕 you’re my honeybunch sugarplum pumpyumpyumpkin i love yaaa

- ellie 🐸

#cannot stop thinkin ab that cheerleader roleplay #hhhhhhhhh #i genuinely think he’d lose his mind LMFAO #he’d get down on one knee #kickoff #asks #🪷 anon

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hailsatanacab · 5 months

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Family Dinners - dpxdc

"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.

The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.

"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.

"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.

"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.

Ancients, that's so weird!

The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.

Wait. Family dinners?

He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.

"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.

From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.

"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"

"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"

"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."

"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.

Come on, Danny, recover!

"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."

"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?

"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."

"Costume? What do you mean?"

Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.

"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!

"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.

"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.

His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.

Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"

"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"

"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.

It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.

It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.

Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.

"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."

Once again, the whole table falls into silence.

"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"

"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"

"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."

Danny's grin freezes in place.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."

"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"

Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.

"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.

"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."

An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.

"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."

"What did happen?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."

"How long in the future was it?"

"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.

Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"

"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."

"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."

"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"

"What?"

"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."

Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.

"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.

"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."

"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"

"Damian, stop—"

"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."

"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."

"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.

"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."

"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."

"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."

"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #batpham #hailsatanacrab🦀🦀writes #look. this has been in my mind for so long guys so long - and idk if its canon that the batfam have codes for time travel situations or what #but i feel like ive seen it before and if its not canon it should be #so here - how i think that would be funny to go down #i have so many thoughts about TUE and its place in a dpxdc crossover like holy shit there's so many ways it can go!!#i have another wip in the works thats kinda similar to this but with superman and i cannot wait to work on it again #there are so many ways i wanted this to go but i just couldnt get there - i wanted to keep it on the shorter side but like #perhaps ill have to expand #i just love the idea that like. theres a stranger at your table who knows you and knows you well. who knows the secret that youd die to keep #there's a stranger at your table and he says something and you know he's family. you know you're strangers but now...#now you have to be something more #oh man theres so many juicy ways it can go and I KNOW I DID NONE OF THEM #i want to write this whole plot again and make it angstier #(me with everything)#anyway! sorry love you all hope you enjoy it!!

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cheeriochat · 20 days

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Hmmmm DMC headcannons 3!!!!

This one's a bit wordy

☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆•☆

• Dante and Vergil are the type of twins that when they are close by, are touching in any way possible. Sitting together? Dante is leaning on Vergil. Standing together? Vergil has his arm resting on Dantes shoulder. Walking together? They keep bashing into eachothers side. They can spend time apart (obviously) but when they are close there is always some form of contact.

• Nero felt phantom pains where his hand used to be, but when his arm grew back they kind of just became ordinary pains. He wasn't sure if it was a side affect of growing a whole ass arm back or something but he was happy when they went away.

• I kind of think Kyrie would have depression. I mean she went through a lot and lost her parents and brother but she lived, so I feel like she would have survivors guilt but due to constantly being busy she wouldn't really have the time to process it. It's a sad headcannon but I feel like it just seems right :(((

• On a bit of a lighter note, I feel like Kyrie would have a good support system though. I mean she has Nero obviously, but also I think she would have Lady, Trish and Dante there for her and eventually Vergil too.

• Talking about Trish, Lady and Dante. I feel like Lady and Trish would go shopping Bayonetta 2 style, and have Dante carry all their stuff around. (He gets compensated for his work when they stop at a Cafe and he gets a parfait, although he doesnt mind helping his friends)

• Nero has a huge sweet tooth, but because of the kids, he can't keep anything to satisfy his need for sugar around long enough. Vergil likes to buy him sweet stuff though as a form of peace offering. He's found Nero likes Lemon Sherbets, Sour patch kids, and controversially, Liquorice.

• Vergil likes Hotpot and Shabu Shabu. I don't know, I just feel this in my soul.

• Dante is jealous that Vergil gets a tail and he doesn't. Vergil is jealous Dante's horns are fancier than his. They are both content with the wings that they have. (Also vergil has long skinny fangs with sharp teeth and Dante has wider, stubbier (but still as equally sharp) fangs with more "human" teeth)

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icewindandboringhorror · 1 year

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Just curious what the average level of personal investment in these sorts of things is. Like, how much do people usually get into silly stuff like this their friends ask of them? etc. etc. Which I know, only surveying a small sample on a very specific website means I'm not getting an exact average idea lol, but.. curious nonetheless .. Maybe reblog for bigger sample size but also this is not very serious at all/not worth a call to action gbhjbhjb

#which I know this could be context dependent like.. maybe you'd normally dress up but on a week that #you feel sick you wouldn't or etc. etc. - but I mean.. GENERALLY. in the most general average scenario #where you have the average amount of health and free time that you always do. etc. just based on your personality #and level of investment in these things - what on AVERAGE are you most inclined to do #also of course assume they communicate with you ahead of time and are not like planning a part last minute #like 'throw together costume in 5 hours and show up tonight randomly' or etc. I would hope that if we're going with the #AVERAGE of things - most people's friends have better communication skills than springing entire parties #on people last minute lol #assume you have like.. a few days-a week or so to prepare. however ealrly people usually start talking about #birthdays. In my experience it's usually one or two weeks ahead of time. Like 'oh next weekend' or 'oh two weeks from now' etc.#ANYWAY.. feeling a little Sick again of course but still trying to get some photos or something posted #AGAIN i promise I am not going to exlcusively post polls and ntohing else forever hgkjgnekj #I just really really love the ability to post polls and have always my whole life been obsessed with surveying people #I used to think I wanted to do that as a career somehow like.. be one of the people that does psychological interviews #or produce interview asessments for a company or etc. etc. I am always the one friend in the group thats giving out custom made #surveys or asking for other simialr stuff (did you ever take an mbti quiz? how about enneagra #m?? oh yeah I know they're not really scientifically valid or antyhing but like... DID you take them?? huh?? did you??please?? ghjj)#I simply cannot resist.. posting a little poll every once in a while.. as a treat #whilst I still fall behind on like actual content and costumes and stuff gbjhbjh #New poll adventure should be not as much of a wait as the last one was though since I already have the writing #for it really. I just have to do the ms paint sketch. hopefully no unexpected other health issues will get in the way #*** *** ***#< (anytime I do these three star patterns it is an ocd compulsion not me bleeping out words or something just ignore it lol)#(it means something secret in my evil brain just pretend you do not see it. significant only to me)#BUT YEAH.. ... poll... what type of costume party atendee are you?#:0c

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skunkes · 3 months

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another thing i love about dungeon meshi along with how theres adequate time given to every character that matters! Is that like. Along with no "every single character in supporting cast gets put on the backburner in favor of MC / other character development" is that theres also no "god these characters are all so boring except that one guy who is tragic and compelling" bc they all have the same capacity for compelling tragedy (and such).

And it also doesn't feel like when ppl tack on as much Bad Things onto a characters life just to emphasize tragedy or hardship... Theres a good balance in each of em. The recent leaked izutsumi dark lore implication drop wasn't even in the main story and it doesnt feel like that quirky "i love torturing my ocs! 🤪🤪🤪🤪 (Literally just throwing everything into one pot)" sentiment i see here often if that makes sense. It doesn't feel Edgy ykwim

#i cld never do this. fully balancing individual characters alone is hard enough #but padding out individual characters with hardships that can sometimes parallel each other #or make you have to Think about it further in a show not tell way #WITHOUT also making you roll your eyes because of how edgy it is but instead giving enough for adequate enjoyment #regardless of which character u fixate on. is really good #that was my point ykwim. im here fixated on thistles tragedy because well. but its not bc he's my only option #i guess thats also the wonder of it like I can really only write from what I know (or experience thru others experiences)#so having a variety of characters #that draw in intrigue from different people in the same cast is so #i hope that makes sense?#OH WAIT MY TAGS CUT OFF #its so amazing like theres smthng there for everyone #talkys

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demodraws0606 · 1 month

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You know I think there is something interesting to say in terms of where the fuck WxS is going because like

I think WxS is the only unit where the end goal or overall progression is probably the most unknown out of all of them ???

MMJ and VBS are extremely obvious, they both have the most explicit goals that are said to us in a straightforward way

25-ji, in the end we know the main goal at the end will be for all of the characters to go over their hurdles with Mafuyu finally being able to find herself and move forward

Leo/need is probably the closest in terms of vagueness but we know the end goal is clear for them to grow as a band, probably ending in a big concert or something along those lines

But with WxS...like I guess the closest thing I can see to an end goal is all of WxS preparing a show together with everyone playing their part but that definitely doesn't feel like something you'd build up for an entire arc and definitely not something that feels fitting after the emotional turmoil that was the disbandement arc ???

In terms of physical achievements as well they literally revived an entire parc through one gigantic show, so it just comes into question what they can do now.

Then you look at their first few event for this arc considering usually the first event kinda set up what will be planned for the future but it's...weird.

Yeah, Tsukasa and Rui's events set up they're inexperienced and how they will grow in the future but also there is this weird feeling of something feeling off ?

The plays/scripts all are strangely depressing, the play in Tsukasa's event being about a failed writer planning to drown himself (which I believe is one of the only undeniable explicit description of suicide ever in the game?????) and the second being someone whose given up on life meeting their estranged sister only for her to become ill.

We even have Emu's side story in Rui's event where they watched the movie Rin was watching during the event made by the same producer and Emu herself note how depressing the story is (meanwhile the main character of the movie clearly parallels Rui)

We don't see the conclusion of these in-game stories as well, lingering on their worst moment never really seeing the presumably happy conclusion.

THEN we also have Emukasa fes which....again strangely different in tone from what you'd expect a WxS fes card, they're not really all that conclusive either. Tsukasa never aknowledges how he relates to the brother in the story and Emu doesn't really get a conclusion on her grief.

Then we also have Rui's entire fuckign event with the cards and his cyberpunk deadbo-YOU SEE WHAT IM SAYING

The closest we fucking have to knowing what WxS's fucking endgoal towards the story is, is fucking WL which....TELLS US NOTHING

At least with VBS we know that they're goal is to go even further beyond and conquer the whole world, that is a developpement of their goal.

What I'm saying is I don't know what the fuck colorpalet is cooking wiht WxS but I feel like i'm a fucking twilight zone reading the way they're writing WxS now because I can't be the only one feeling insane at how weird all of this is

#wxs #wonderlandxshowtime #project sekai #pjsk #prsk #wxs prsk #wxs pjsk #reading this fucking unit feels like i'm stuck in a strange hell dimension where everything just feels like foreshadowing or some kind of #fucking wink colorpalet is oding at me like it's not the first time they've done insane foreshadowing with wxs #in fact its the norm #i wish i could know what goes on in their head when they write these clowns cos i swear i can't understand what the fuck they're doing #like with other units i can geyt like a general idea #but like WxS ????#they could go literally anywhere with them #i guess going to broadway could be like a huge goal but like ?????#it doesn't FEEL WxS yknow ?#especially after the disbandement arc which we technically haven't gotten really a conclusion for because...Emu's still gonna come back ??#So like what do we do when Emu comes back to Pheonix Wonderland ?????????????#Cos I do think WxS would want to come back to perform but ESPECIALLY nene's dreams are kind of incompatible with that #cos we know she wants to perform all over the world like her idol #It's just #I guess I'm waiting to see what kind of unholy bullshit colorpalet has for us after the pain that was the disbandement arc #i was also tired while writing this so if this seems extremely rambly thats why #i'm just losing my mind

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wrylu · 3 months

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idk why i'm so moody these days but i find my despair funny

aka my average day as of now

#1. impulsive silly thoughts #2. STOP FORGETTING TO EAT!!!!!!!!!!!!1 please :3 (note for myself me myself and i)#3. i get sad 🥱#4. tired #(tumblr deleted half of my tags. isnt that nice though you wont have to listen to my essay of vents nobody wanted to hear that)#vent art #wrylu #lu's canvas #negative thoughts below :) have some flowers 💐#sometimes i feel like i should get up more and spend time with my family i miss how it used to be #but you know what i suck and im practically glued to my chair and im lazy like if i was one of the 7 deadly sins i would be sloth #im surprised im not dead yet #this is purely for myself to speak my poor mind #no i actually hate this #i wanna die #i wish i was dead #not really #but still #i wish time just stopped so i can re evaluate my life #and whoa damn dysphoria makes an appearance ever #i wish i had a schlong (funny)#this is awful #sometimes i feel manipulative like i switch my emotions and personalities so hard #am i manipulating you guys??#i feel like im being sad for attention #ugh i hate that the internet is my comfort #thats bad isnt it #i feel like an attention seeker #why am i even writing this 🥱🥱#i cant wait to fall asleep forever

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whollyjoly · 20 days

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for some reason i can't explain i know saint peter won't call my name

nothing that lives, lives forever - an immortal soldier!alton more au

(1.1k of snippets from my old guard(ish) au where alton more is old, too old, and has been living and fighting far longer than anyone should. full description/other thoughts at the bottom. tw: blood, violence, mentions of death)

Alton clicked the lighter closed, running a thumb over the silver case. The night was warm, sticky in a way that he never could get used to. He sucked in a breath from the cheap cigarette, letting his head fall back against the rough side of the barracks.

It was quiet. Typically, there would be no end to the commotion coming from the small building, one of many that littered Camp Toccoa. The wall of sound was ever-present, no matter if it was shouting or laughing or snoring. But whatever the cause, there was always noise.

No matter if it was a blanket of noise he knew well, unchanging except for the language and the scenery. Soldiers are soldiers, and some things are a constant. It could almost be comforting, if it didn’t also mean that the need for soldiers was a constant as well.

However, tonight was a Saturday, and it was one of the few weekends that Sobel had allowed Easy the use of their weekend passes. Almost every man in the company had jumped at the chance to get off base, to travel home if they could and spend time with loved ones. The ones with farther-flung hometowns had spirited off to Atlanta, happy to spend their time drinking and dancing and fucking instead of slogging through another run, three miles up, three miles down.

Normally, Alton would have joined them in their carousing - it was easier to pass the time with the effortless camaraderie built during a training camp than bored and alone.

But today had been a bad day. The sound of swords and the shift of sand beneath his feet followed him out of his nightmares, the humid summer of Georgia morphing itself into the baking, dry heat of the desert.

His shouts must have been real, because when a hand came to shake him out of his dream, the first face he saw was not that of a grouchy NCO, but of a blood-caked Saracen, eyes alight with righteous fury.

Alton didn’t think. He had grabbed the knife from under his pillow, an old thing that had been sharpened more times than he could begin to count, and was on the man in less than a breath, pressing the blade into the side of his neck. The familiar thrum of blood beat against his fingertips, the grit of sand scratched his gums. He knew what he had to do, had done it a thousand times, a thousand thousand times, what was a little more bloodshed spilled across his feet-

Alton had blinked, and came to himself in a rush.

Instead of an unnamed Saracen, the ashen face of Johnny Martin stared up at him, eyes wide behind the knife.

Alton drew back his hand, retreating almost as quick as he had lunged earlier. He mumbled a quick curse and apology as he stepped out of arm’s reach from the man. It wasn’t until Martin’s eyes widened even farther that Alton realized his tongue was slipping out Arabic of all things.

Usually, Alton was better about remembering himself, who he was almost as important as where he was. But for whatever reason, his demons had decided to catch up with him that night.

After a quick smile and some quip about the Krauts in his dreams, he managed to wave an only-slightly-mollified Martin off. The shorter man apparently hadn’t forgotten it though, if his watchful eyes during chow that morning were anything to go by.

Alton was just glad that no one else was awake to see it, at least. That was the last thing he needed.

And so, instead of joining in on a weekend of broads and booze, Alton found himself waving away the invitation by an eager Smokey and bemused Alley. When the horde made their way out of the barracks, fantasizing in bawdy terms about their planned misadventures, he felt like he could breathe easy.

Fucking finally.

Alton took another drag from the cigarette. He watched the smoke curl, up and up until it faded into nothing amongst the darkening sky.

The lighter was a welcome weight in his hand, grounding him to this time, this life.

The design was worn by now, details barely visible after a half century of worrying. It still managed to amaze him, sometimes, what people could do with the smallest of canvases. Alton didn’t feel the same wonder however, wasn’t as mesmerized by the beauty man could create as he once was.

But in the quiet moments, he could still appreciate the time some French craftsman took to transform a hunk of metal into a small token carried around by a dead man.

Luz had spied the lighter one weekend, and laughed at him for using something so old-fashioned. Alton just shrugged, not caring to admit that he was still getting used to having a light at his fingertips. It wasn’t all that long ago when he was still lighting a pipe with a flintlock pistol, and not so long before that when he would carry around a flint and steel.

Time was passing all the more quickly these days, technologies changing and advancing, and everyone was obsessed with needing things to be quicker, cheaper, simpler. Alton scoffed. He could hardly find it in him to care.

He glanced down at the lighter in his hand, shifting it back and forth in a practiced motion and watched as the light skittered across the sides.

It had shown flowers, once. A veritable garden of carnations, daffodils, and lilies of the valley, with leaves spilling across the front panel onto the back. They represent good fortune, he was told. Good fortune, luck, and hope.

When the merchant described it to him, eyes ablaze with a passion known only to those with wares to sell, Alton didn’t try to hide the snort that escaped his throat.

Fortune and Luck had abandoned him long ago, and hadn’t returned since waking up in a battlefield abandoned by all but the dead, sword in his chest and blood in his mouth.

And what the fuck was Alton supposed to do with hope?

It was the quote on the back that had caught his eye, all those years ago in a street market in Reims. The beveled edges had faded with time, the familiar letters Alton traced were more memory by now than any physical mark. Une vie honorable est une vie éternelle.

An honorable life is an eternal life.

Alton couldn’t help but stare at the message, both then and now. He hated that goddamn word. Immortal. Unending. Eternal.

They were such flowery words, used by people who craved what they couldn’t have, what they shouldn’t. The romanticized idea of the everlasting, the fountain of youth, the gift of life! Alton was sick of it.

This wasn’t life. He was a fucking dead man walking. And he sure as hell didn’t do anything honorable to deserve it.

months ago, while thinking about the absolute insanity of the almost...cavalier? attitude we see alton more have over the course of the series, an idea hit my brain: what if there was a reason nothing seemed to phase him - not panzers, not being a breath away from a car wreck, not bastogne, not speirs? what if this wasn't his first war? that thought spiraled me into a minor insanity that is this: my immortal soldier!alton more au, loosely inspired by the movie the old guard (2020). the idea is that, once upon a time, there was a soldier in a land many centuries ago. one day, he died in battle. and then, he woke up. and then he died. and then he woke up. over, and over. drawn to countless battles, conflicts, and wars, each one etching itself into the core of his soul. a never-ending cycle...until one sweltering summer, where he found himself at a training camp at the foot of a mountain. anyways. at some point, i plan on writing this as a full story, but that is admittedly a long ways away. however, in celebration of alton more's birthday today, i wanted to post my favorite scene that i've written for this au! it's set sometime at the beginning of the story, in the early days of camp toccoa. mostly, it's just a character study of this version of alton more. hope you enjoyed! and of course - happy birthday alton more!

(song insp.)

taglist: @sweetxvanixlla @coco-bean-1218 @bucky32557038ww2 @georgieluz @samwinchesterslostshoe @xxluckystrike @next-autopsy @ronald-speirs @land-sh @ronsparky @panzershrike-pretz @theredrenard @kyellin

#happy alton more day!#holy shit im actually posting this...i've been sitting on it for MONTHS #but YEAH its just...the gothic romanticism about the physical embodiment of war and soldiers and the concept of death you know??#what it means to feel and to live and to connect to those around you when it all feels so fleeting #fleeting not just due to the nature of war but also the nature of immortality #or something #...look i have a lot of thoughts about this story okay #it kills me #its also known in my brain as the “how immortal soldier!alton more made friends” story #because literally thats it thats the plot #OH WAIT did i forget to mention that speirs is also an immortal soldier in this story??#oh yeah thats the best fucking bit - they met like centuries and centuries ago on the wrong ends of one of the various punic wars #(where speirs was known back then as...wait for it...TERTIUS)#its good goddamn shit okay #also explains why alton is so fucking unflinching towards speirs at any given point and why they were so petty about the photo albums #ANYWAYS if anyone wants to hear more about this!! come stop on by!!!#also yes the title is a reference to the old guard #as is the reference to the siege of jerusalem which is where joe and nicky met #immortal soldier!alton more #alton more #easy company #band of brothers fic #mine #band of brothers #bofb #hbowar #em's moodboards #em writes #jesus christ i guess that's a tag now #alright here we go out into the void

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skitskatdacat63 · 9 months

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This is my personal crossover event of the century

#one of my favorite actors and one of my favorite drivers interacting??? what???#alright whos gonna be the brave soldier and write the matt damon × mark webber rpf fic-#(i read a fic w james bond/seb so imo it really wouldnt be too far off to write Linus Caldwell/Mark LMAO)#ive known abt this event practically since i got into f1 but i feel like my thoughts abt it keep developing every time i look at them again #first time: huh okay wow brad pitt & matt damon taking w mark thats really wild. f1 drivers really do be meeting w high level celebs #after i watched fight club: wow wow!! i cant believe theres pics of brad pitt with mark thats crazy!#after i watched oceans 11: omg wait oh yeah! when mark was in jaguar he was sponsored by oceans 12!!! thats sick!!!#and then recently w my increasing love for Matt Damon: WAIT OH MY GOD MARK HAS INTERACTED WITH MATT!!!! (two worlds colliding feel ig)#but i was watching some interview w matt where they referenced this happening so its relevant in my brain again so i had to post abt it #but of course in the vid the specific pic on screen was him and mark interacting and i died. like seriously i can never escape f1 and mark #mostly im freaking out bcs its truly the crossover event of all time concerning my interests specifically #but the lore behind this is genuinely really really interesting #the fact that theyre promoting a heist movie specifically and then they put a $300k diamond in the nose of the Jaguar #and then the Jaguar crashed during the race and the diamond disappeared?????? cmon literally itself could be the plot to an Oceans movie #RBR/teams sponsored by RB were so much fun back in the day!!#they had several back to back movie promotions which all were pretty fun! just a shame neither team was good back then #it was Oceans 12->SW:ROTS->Superman right? i can't remember if there was another #such a shame that neither mark nor seb were in RBR in 2005 when RBR was promoting ROTS #i think i actually wouldve exploded if there were pics of them w hayden or ewan(my prev fandom haha)#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #mark webber #matt damon

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whumble-beeee · 3 months

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A New Enemy Has Entered The Arena

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping | Cont'd from Part 6

Content: disabled whumpee, trans whumpee, tied up/handcuffs, (brief) dissociation, noncon partial undressing, noncon touch, attempted noncon

* * * * * * * *

Except from: The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping; a self-help guide for villains and bounty-hunters Dr. Vaughn Verhulst

["Make them fear the wrath of god, then remind them the only god they should fear is you."]

* * * * * * * *

“So, this is the capture, huh?” The new voice drawled. Despite the exhaustion and the agony lacing throughout every part of his body, Stan's managed a look up at the new situation. Directly into a pair of steel blue eyes that made his breath stutter. “Not much to look at, huh?”

Stan scooted backward, but Deeby seemed to beat him to the same idea, stepping in front of the man and completely blocking him from view.

“There's no way you're the one doing the pickup. What are you doing here?”

The new man tried to side-step Deeby. “Don't worry, I'm not trying to interrupt your smooch-fest, just wanna make sure you aren't breaking our new toy–”

Deeby stepped in front of the man again, the man barely stopping short of crashing directly into him, just long enough for Stan to gather his scattered bearings and realize there was a new person here and all the distinct possibilities of what that meant for him.

And suddenly he felt lightheaded again.

“Dude…”

“What.” Deeby insisted slowly. “Are you doing here?”

This new guy… honestly, not much to look at himself, from what Stan saw. He couldn't have been too much older than Stan, fluffy light brown hair, an accent he couldn't quite place, but… probably European? He also wasn't wearing any sort of mask or anything to hide his face, which was only vaguely concerning, Stan decided to believe. Not to mention, this new guy had been wearing a knit sweater vest? It looked soft. Stan almost had to remind himself that the guy must be a threat, just like Deeby, or why would he even be here?

He just looked so corporate.

“I told you, checking on the capture, getting some intel. Making sure you didn't crap up the very simple plan, or kill him. It’s a real concern with you, I'm sure you understand.”

The man tried to side-step Deeby once again, and once again the mercenary blocked him. Stan started to scoot back away from the two, his ankle chain softly clanking as it dragged across the floor. Whatever was going on between them, he wanted no part of it.

“He's secure. And alive. Not fatally wounded, and will continue to stay that way.” Deeby stated. “You can leave now.”

Sweater-vest ventured an exaggerated glance over Deeby's shoulder, just barely giving Stan another view of his steel-colored eyes. Something about them made his heart skip a beat.

“You sure about that, big man? Kid doesn't seem to be doing so hot.

“Yup.” Deeby didn't even entertain a glance back. “Buh-bye now.”

Stan could practically hear the eye-roll that accompanied the groan that Sweater-vest let out. “Well excuse me for not trusting you as far as I can throw you. Look, I'm not just here to mess with you, I'm here on Lana's orders. She wants you to call her.”

Stan stopped scooting dead, an icy coldness surging through his chest, a sudden darkness swirling around his head. Lana. That sounded like a real name. Why was this man using real names? Deeby didn't use a real name, he was very dead set on that! Why was this new man using real names?! Real names were bad why was he using real names–?!

Deeby also stiffened at the name. He hand clenched for just a fraction of a second. Then he shook his head and brought his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Why didn't she just call me instead of sending your sorry ass to deliver the message?” Deeby finally seemed to settle on.

Sweater-vest's eyes flicked over Deeby, up and down, before an unnerving grin spread across his face. “I know something you don't know~” he sang slowly, like some sort of horror movie villain.

“You planning on telling me? Or you just gonna stand there like a skin-walker.” Deeby look just about ready to blow.

“Soon as I verify the little super lives up to our wildest hopes and dreams.”

“Y’know, technically we’re supposed to be on the same side.”

The man sidestepped Deeby one last time, and this time, the mercenary just let him pass by. Stan shrank back as the piercing gaze of Sweater-vest appraised him, looking him up and down as he slowly walked closer.

“A bit worse for wear, no?” Sweater-vest noted, almost to himself.

“Yeah, little shit tried to escape. Got pretty far too, he's stronger than I thought. Got me right–” Then he noticed Stan had backed up halfway across the room instead of stayingin place on the floor right behind him. And sighed. “Kinda a wuss though…”

“Die.” Stan growled, scowling at the mercenary even as he clutched his knees to his chest.

“Oooooh” Sweater-vest cooed, and Stan nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized how close the man had gotten to him. “Feisty little guy, huh?”

Stan kicked out at him and skittered back, only to realize he was almost out of room to skitter. So he reluctantly stood his ground. Well, sat his ground. “Get away from me!”

“He's mostly talk,” Deeby called again. “Mostly…”

Stan barely even registered what Deeby said. His vision completely tunneled on Sweater-vest as he slowly advanced on Stan, like a predator stalking its prey.

“Dang, Dick Biscuits, you really got a handle of him, don’t you?” Sweater-vest's eyes never once left Stan's. “Leashed and collared, like a little puppy dog… “

Stans cheeks turned a bright red. He glared at the man as hard as he could, jaw clenched so hard it could have broken, because honestly, how dare he?!

Deeby sighed, like he'd rather be anywhere but where he was now. Stan could relate.

“Yeah… It's necessary.”

“Oh, I agree wholeheartedly.”

The man crouched directly in front of the trembling Stan. “Hi,” he said softly, disarmingly, giving Stan just the slightest tilt of the head. “My name's Vaughn, its–”

“Christ man, would you cut it out with the names!” Deeby yelled, causing the both of the smaller men to jump as he marched over. Stan reflexively curled up into a little ball, gut swirling with a new and terrifying form of dread and suddenly very aware of his restraints once more, while Sweater-vest–... Vaughn… sprung up to face down Deeby.

As much as Stan was absolutely terrified of Deeby, he had to admit he agreed with the bounty hunter on this one. The way Sweater-vest threw out names like that felt… Dangerous. On a visceral level. He hugged his legs closer to his chest.

“Why?” Sweater-vest taunted. “It's not like he's gonna live to tell anyone.”

“Nothing's ever 100% with these things,” he growled. “Unless you want to get fifty to life here as well. You'd be doing me a huge favor, honestly, and bring Lana down with you while you’re at it. But leave me out of it.”

Sweater-vest hummed, considering. Glanced Deeby up and down. Then scoffed. “Don't you have an important phone call to get to, Deeby? I’d hate to have to tell Lana that her least favorite ex disobeyed her direct orders and needs to be dealt with.”

The mercenary stared down Sweater-vest. The intensity of it almost entranced Stan, it seemed to go on for an eternity. Then, finally, Deeby let out a small grunt, and took a slow, deep breath.

“Stan!” he yelled. Stan nearly yelped. “If he tries anything, kill him, he deserves it. And you.” he turned his attention right back to Sweater-vest before Stan could stutter out some sort of question or affirmation. “Don't fuck with him.”

“Aw, so protective, falling in love already?”

“I'll be back in a few, don't try anything!” He yelled as he made his way toward the door. Then, only slightly under his breath, “Pinche pendejo.”

The smile on Sweater-vest's face immediately dropped and he whirled around.

“Krijg de tering, vuile teringleier!”

The door slammed shut, the crack of metal against metal deafening in the sudden silence. And they were alone. Together.

Stan stared at the floor and clenched his fists, trying to calm his racing nerves. Did his best to keep his breathing even. Be still, not show weakness while also not challenging the man he was now alone with. He never thought he would ever actually miss Deeby's presence. But here they were.

“Brute.” Sweater-vest seethed under his breath as he sauntered back over to Stan. “Should've just put him out of his misery years ago, swear to God.”

Then his demeanor completely shifted once more as he stood over Stan. More professional, more cold, more demanding.

“Anyway, stand up, let me get a look at you.”

“Are you ‘The Guy?’” Stan blurted out before he had time to even realize he was doing it. Anything to break the sudden unbearable tension.

Sweater-vest tilted his head with a raised eyebrow and a small laugh. “The Guy?”

“Yeah…” Wow, suddenly he wished he never said anything. “The uh, the guy. You know the guy…” Stan's voice wavered as the man scrunch his nose at him. As if Stan was speaking an entirely different language. “Like. Like the guy. The guy who, uh, who…”

He took a deep breath, and blurted out “The boss guy who had me kidnapped!”

A brief pause. The man stared at him.

“No,” he snorted. “No, I'm not ‘the guy’, as you so eloquently put it. And your ‘guy’ is actually a lady, the lovely Ms. Lana who I mentioned earlier. And I'm Dr. Vaughn Verhulst, you can call me Vaughn. Pleasure to meet you.”

Stan shrank into himself slightly. “Oh…”

Again with the names. They made his skin crawl, like tiny ants crawling up and down his arms. The full name this time too, Dr. Verhulst. And Lana. Where had he heard that name before? Lana...

Stan didn't have time to ponder the question, though, as the man surged forward and reached down toward Stan's vulnerable neck, and Stan screeched and jolted back trying to get away.

But the man was surprisingly fast for a guy who could be mistaken for an office drone.

“Alright now, stand up.”

Then suddenly Stan was choking as the two fingers looped under his collar and dragged him upward, squeezing Stan's windpipe fully shut with Stan gasping and clutching at the collar trying to free himself and allow his body the sweet air it so desperately begged for the whole short distance up. And when he was finally standing and the collar loosened just slightly, Stan coughed and wheezed and tried to double over on himself to lessen the pain, if only the man wasn't still holding him straight up by the collar. He finally managed to get his own fingers under the collar just enough to pull it away from flush against his throat, his body shifting from world-shaking coughs and gasps for air to shuddering wheezes and shivers, and only then did he realize that Vaughn’s other hand wasn't just sitting idly by. No, instead it settled on his arms and ribcage, pressing into the tender bruised flesh that marred his entire body.

He felt a sudden sharp pain at his side and twitched away from it, only for a steadying hand to fall on straight onto another bruise on his waist and press in, clutch at it, holding him in place and sending jolts throughout his entire body that made him dizzy. All the breath left his body. He froze.

“What– What're you–?... Stop, let go…” It felt almost taboo to break the sudden stillness. He tried to pull away, but the grip on his collar just tightened, knuckles pressing harder into his neck as Sweater-vest continued to press into his side.

“Shhhhhh, dropje. Just let me do my work.”

“Your work?...” The hand pressed into his broken rib, and Stan yelped out and shoved the offending hand away from the tender area.

“STOP! Stop touching me! Stop!” Stan cried. This was too much. What was even happening here?

Vaughn's dark gaze fixed on the place that had made Stan cry out, calculating, jaw set. Stan withdrew into himself sightly before he remembered himself, and stared defiantly right back. Then the gaze drifted slightly lower, softening with an almost mischievous smile and a low hum before he finally, finally, looked Stan square in the eyes.

“Take your shirt off.”

Stan's heart turned to ice.

“WHAT?! No! You’re insane!”

Stan managed to rip free of his grip and launch backwards, only for his back to slam directly into the wall. Damn it. He saw stars, and the world rocked around him.

He pressed into it regardless, held his cuffed hands up in front of his torso as some sort of measly defense. “Get– Get away from me! I'm not taking my shirt off! You're crazy, get away!”

He scowled, then reached into his pocket with a deep sigh. A glint of steel gleamed in the light as Vaughn pull out a pair of very sharp-looking scissors and waved them lazily at Stan's chest.

“You are.” Sweater-vest stated simply. “I'm a doctor, dropje, I have to take a look at your body, make sure that ass didn't leave any lasting damage. You worry too much.”

Sweater-vest suddenly went to reach around his arms and get at the top button of his shirt, and Stan slapped them away, earning himself a glare from the man as he stepped closer once more and boxed him in completely.

“Stan… Schatje…” he spoke lowly, voice sickeningly sweet. The scissors drifted so close to his throat. “I'm going to make this so simple for you, yeah? I'm cutting your shirt off now. If you make things difficult, then your shirt won't be the only thing cut, got it?”

Stan squeezed his eyes shut and tried to become so small. Small enough that the threat wouldn't see him anymore and he could run away and never have to deal with it again. This was insane. This was insane, right? This guy was insane!

“No, no, no, no, no, don't, get away from me, get away from me.” He tried to inject as much hissing venom as possible into the words, but they still didn't come out much above a squeaking, shaky whisper.

Vaughn reached for his top button, and though Stan pressed into the wall as much as he could, arms up and ready to strike at any moment, this time his fingers weren't stopped from undoing the top button. Then continuing down from there. Then he gently grabbed Stan's wrists and moved them downward and continued unfastening, all the way down until the front of his shirt was completely open, the cool air giving Stan goosebumps.

“Oh.” Vaughn said, almost to himself, running his finger over the strap of Stan's chest binder. “I didn't realize you were transgender, Stan.”

The swirling mass of thoughts in Stan’s head finally meet the one overwhelming his gut and crashing down upon him, breaking the fragile spell keeping him paralyzed.

“DEEBY! HELP!!” Stan cried out, loud as he possibly could. As if Deeby would ever help him. As if he would save him. All Stan knew was that in that very moment, he would prefer the physically abusive mercenary a hundred times over this guy, the guy who looked at him like a lion at an antelope, the man who feigned kindness, whose smile seemed just a bit too perfect, who made weird cryptic comments and who threw names around as if it didn't matter whether or not Stan knew them. As if Stan would never live to escape. As if the horrors Stan would endure were cursed to echo the walls in which they occurred, never to be heard by another soul.

“Oh calm down, Stanny, he's not going to come save you.” Vaughn dismissed, quickly pulling down the sleeve of his shirt and cutting it open down the seam, the quick repetitive snip snip snip of the scissors filling the room completely. Stan's weak attempts to slap away the scissors or otherwise stop his disrobing were all but brushed off by the ‘doctor.’ A quick but very intentional blade to the neck was all he needed to freeze Stan up and allow him to continue.

Very soon, Vaughn had the shredded fabric that used to make up Stan's shirt sprawled across the floor at their feet. Stan didn't even feel the coolness of the room goosebumping his skin anymore, not with the burning red in his cheeks and the again wandering hands of Sweater-vest to keep him unbearably warm.

He could scarcely breathe. His brain started to feel farther and farther away from his body. His hair was standing on end, shivers running throughout his entire body making him twitch. And he wondered if he should even put in the effort to ground himself. Maybe it would be easier if he was far, far away for all of this anyway.

“It's not like I care, Stan. It doesn't matter to me. I'll even let you keep your chest binder thing on, if that’d make you more comfortable... Hey.”

He snapped a few times in front of Stan's eyes, and Stan despairingly snapped back to reality. So close too. Just for Sweater-vest to smile his weird creepy smile at him. There was no way to misconstrue the malicious gleam in his eyes, the one that made Stan's own eyes go wide and his breath halt entirely as he stared into them. His other hand was on Stan's back now. He was practically holding Stan in a facsimile of a hug. Pressing in his lower back. Lower. Just a bit too low for comfort.

“I'm serious, I can work with that,” he reassured, hand now dipping under Stan's waistband, and before Stan could react, he pulled the captive in close to him, pressing his pelvis securely into Stan's lower stomach while brushing to closed blades of the scissors along Stan's jawline and up his cheek. “It's not what I was expecting, but it doesn't change what I'm going to do to you.”

And that's when Stan pulled back and punched him square in the jaw.

* * * * * * * *

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy | @pirefyrelight | @cakeinthevoid

22 notes · View notes

youngpettyqueen · 2 months

Note

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

oh my god I finally fucking finished it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It really just hasn’t been a great week.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry about your shirt.” She cracks weakly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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