(continued) I damn near exploded with anger, but also was able to concede how someone could come to that conclusion.
Hmm. I hope you're being hyperbolic, Anon, I mean, I'm glad you didn't explode with anger on your friend, and I'm glad you conceded how someone might come to the conclusion that there is/are problematic content/elements in a gothic horror story/series. 😬
I don't think this was a question, more of a confession/comment? I censored it for reasons below*. Whether it's IWTV canon, the '94 movie, the 2022 TV show, etc... I would say that if you enjoy it, allow that your friend has made a comment and you can talk with them about why they think it's bad, that could be an interesting conversation if it's in good faith!
I can say that in general, these stories/characters/ships are not intended to appeal to everyone, I consider canon to be a buffet where I can pick and choose what I like and skip over what I don't!
TL;DR: Don’t Like, Don’t Read. Applies to you, your friend, etc. Hopefully it won't cost you your friendship, but if it does, well, life goes on. I am not comfortable discussing certain topics publicly because fandom is a hostile environment at this time, and I come here for a fun little escape from reality in my limited free time, not to police anyone or be policed myself.
[^X by @bluebellofbakerstreet)
Hit the jump for more, cut for length.
~~~
*So, I wanted to take this as quick opportunity to share some thoughts on answering asks like these, because there is some fresh blood in the fandom who may not be aware... Assuming Anon wanted to ask if I agreed with their friend or not, the question wasn't quite clear. In general:
I've been in fandom long enough that I can say that the intention for questions like these is sometimes good, to spark intriguing conversations about how ~X problematic thing~ applies to various ships, whether it's harmful to the characters or maybe just part of their nature as vampires, so it's normal for them (as an example, "Was Armand cutting off Nicki's hands an abusive act, or is that a standard punishment that a coven master would commonly do to aberrant vampires? He didn't gloat about it, and he did return/reattach them after all!"), etc.... in other times, this could be a chance for an intellectually stimulating conversation and I would have enjoyed unpacking it with ppl.
Other times, especially currently in 2024 (to timestamp this), these questions are often in bad faith as a means to provoke an unwinnable debate; pinning a fan of a piece of media (the target/person) into defensive position of ~X problematic thing~ in fiction, which often becomes a slippery slope to accuse that target/person of "promoting/endorsing/supporting ~X problematic thing~ in real life!" This is then used to vilify the target/person when they insist that "Fiction is not reality," "Depiction is not endorsement," etc. etc.. As the person continues to defend themselves the bad faith actors escalate their harassment, this is fun sport for them. This can lead to dogpiling on the target/person with hateanons, online character/reputation assassination, or even real life consequences including doxxing. All this over a piece of fiction. It's extremely risky, it's entrapment, I have seen it happen and been a mild target for it over the years, it's unpleasant at best and ruinous at worst.
And I’ll also quote the description from @ozhawkauthor of one of The 3 Laws of Fandom, which applies to canon, fanfic, adaptations, all fiction!:
The First Law of Fandom
Don’t Like; Don’t Read (DL;DR)
It is up to you what you see online. It is not anyone else’s place to tell you what you should or should not consume in terms of content; it is not up to anyone else to police the internet so that you do not see things you do not like. At the same time, it is not up to YOU to police fandom to protect yourself or anyone else, real or hypothetical.
There are tools out there to help protect you if you have triggers or squicks. Learn to use them, and to take care of your own mental health. If you are consuming fan-made content and you find that you are disliking it - STOP.
I used to wrap things up by saying smtg positive like "Let's all get along!" but that in itself was picked on for some reason, so I'll just end it here ✨
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Fanfic PSA: Bucky was a prisoner in Austria, not Azzano
So I didn't notice this myself until my OCD research style turned this up while I was working on a fic. In CA:FA, Bucky, Dugan and Gabe are captured after Hydra shows up where they were pinned down in Azzano, Italy.
They are then taken to a Hydra base where they are held prisoner and forced to work or, in Bucky’s case, experimented on. One thing that doesn't seem to be in a lot of fics, however, is that the Hydra base they are taken to isn't in Azzano. The base is actually in Austria.
When Steve goes to General Phillips to ask about Bucky, Phillips points out on a map where the base is (also helpfully labeled with a little "H" flag). The closest city/town to the base on the map is Kitzbühel, a small town in Western Austria.
So while Bucky’s trouble did technically start in Azzano, all the bad stuff really happened in Austria.
April 10 - “Just wait and see what I’m going to do to you once I get you alone.” Jemma Simmons/James "Bucky" Barnes, for @thestarfishdancer
By @ozhawkauthor
NSFW
Bucky had really never thought that his softly-spoken, sweet-faced, buttoned-up girlfriend would turn out to be such a goddamn tease. He’d recognized from the first moment the barely-contained passion simmering behind her cool, collected facade, and indeed took great pleasure in drawing it out of her - in the privacy of their bedroom. In public, however, she insisted on keeping him at arm’s length. Literally, today, since they were seated on opposite sides of the big conference table.
Where Jemma was driving him insane, fiddling with the buttons of her blouse, licking her pen in a way that made the blood roar in Bucky’s ears, and casting him long sultry looks from under her lashes that made him wonder why the hell he’d chosen pants this tight.
Wriggling uncomfortably, he eased his phone out of his pocket and typed a quick text message.
Just wait and see what I’m going to do to you once I get you alone
Jemma twitched slightly as her phone vibrated against her leg. Fishing it from her pocket, she glanced at the screen, a small smile appearing on her lips. Her fingers slid over the keys.
Promises, promises
I promise you’re not gonna be able to walk tomorrow
She smiled, bit her lip, cast another look at Bucky under her lashes. He was staring right at her from those impossibly intense blue eyes.
Then I guess it’s a good thing tomorrow is my day off
“Agent Simmons,” Hill’s voice said, decidedly frosty. “Is there something you would care to share with the rest of us?”
Damn it, why was Hill picking on her and not Bucky? Jemma flushed bright red. Bucky, mercifully, came to the rescue.
“My fault, Agent Hill,” he said smoothly. “I didn’t understand a technical term you used, and texted Agent Simmons to ask her help.”
Hill gave him a narrow-eyed look, before saying dryly “As long as it’s texting and not sexting, that’s fine, Barnes.”
Jemma didn’t think her face could get any redder.
The meeting seemed to go on forever, but at last Hill let them go. Bucky caught up to her outside, hooked an arm through hers and practically dragged her through the nearest door, which turned out to be a (fortunately unoccupied) office.
She unbuttoned her blouse herself to avoid him popping the buttons off as he ripped it; within moments they were both naked, Bucky hoisting her up against the door with his cybernetic hand under her ass to support her as he thrust deep inside her, hot mouth claiming hers in a passionate kiss. Which was fortunate, because that muffled the ecstatic shrieks Jemma couldn’t quite hold in.
Wash My Sins Away (an MCU crackship soulmate!AU fanfic)
(So I wrote this because of @ozhawkauthor's post about her upcoming birthday and, as I feel she has given so much to her followers/readers and the fandom in general via her incredible fanfics, I felt it only right that I give a little bit back and write a fic for her birthday featuring two characters that, as she herself has said, don’t get enough love.
This fic is also cross-posted to this collection on AO3)
* * * * *
It happened when Rogers decided to break his team out of the RAFT.
Jack Rollins wasn't quite certain what the man had done but one minute the alarms had been blaring, the cell doors all still locked tight and then they'd sprung open with a clang. Problem was it hadn't just been the three cells holding the former Avengers. Jack hadn't wasted time leaving his cell, clocking a panicking guard in the jaw on his way, snatching up the man's stun baton before the body even hit the floor. He had taken all of three steps towards the nearest door, thinking only of finding someway off the floating super-max, when a voice, cocky and familiar, called out to him from behind.
"Going somewhere?"
Jack went rigid, freezing mid step, and he nearly dropped the stun baton.
No.
Not now.
Not after all this damn time.
It couldn't possibly be.
His left arm suddenly felt like it was on fire. The words hidden beneath the sleeve of his shirt itching in a way it only would when said words had been spoken by his soulmate.
Slowly, moving with all the quiet, lethal grace of a large cat, he turned to face the man who had spoken.
Clint Barton was glaring daggers at him, looking ready for a fight, and Jack knew he should have given the archer that fight. Should have shoved the stun baton against the smaller man's ribs and gotten the hell out of dodge. Instead he found his mouth opening and words coming out despite his brain screaming that he just needed to get the hell out of there before Rogers showed up to back up his friends.
"Anywhere that isn't here."
The stillness that fell over Clint was familiar. Jack had experienced it moments earlier. But there was more than that. Shock danced over Clint's face and the archer's hand flew up, seemingly unbidden, a reflex, covering his collarbone.
They didn't move or speak.
Just stared at one another until, finally, the shock seemed to leave Clint, who sputtered for a moment before, just as Rogers appeared in the doorway, let out a snarl.
"Son of a bitch!"
* * * * *
Hours later Jack wasn't certain if he should count himself lucky or not.
Rogers, after Clint had spit out that Jack was his soulmate, hadn't left him in the RAFT. He hadn't been surprised that the heroes had split up after getting away from the RAFT. It made sense. Together they were a bigger target. Scattered to the winds they would be much harder for Ross and any of his agents, including Tony Stark, to hunt.
He had honestly expected Clint to kick him loose at the first opportunity but, surprisingly, the archer had told Rogers that he'd take Jack with him and Wanda.
Now he was sitting at the kitchen table in a large, old farmhouse, the adrenaline of the escape fading from his veins, leaving him feeling like he was about to crash. He nearly jumped out of his skin when someone unexpectedly brushed their fingers through his hair. Jerking sideways, nearly toppling himself from the chair, he looked up to find the woman who'd met them all at the front door when they'd first arrived standing there. He could have kicked himself for not noticing her approach. He was getting rusty it seemed.
Staring up at her he remembered Clint had introduced her as Laura. His other soulmate. Turned out the archer had been one of those rare people born with two separate marks. And Jack wasn't quite sure how he felt about having to share his soulmate with someone else because he and Laura were not fated. They each bore only one mark, Clint's mark, and when Clint had explained things to Jack the ex-HYDRA agent had just seen it as another reason to leave.
Clint didn't need him.
He had Laura. He had someone good. Someone who wasn't broken. Someone who didn't have blood staining their hands. Someone who hadn't ended countless lives thinking they were going to be making a difference in the world.
"You look ready to drop," Laura said unexpectedly, her fingers still brushing through his hair, her touch gentle. Almost soothing.
Jack merely grunted and looked away from her. She didn't deserve to have her life tainted by him any more than Clint did.
"I've always known I was going to have to share him, you know," she said softly, surprising him by being so open, so honest with him. "I prepared myself for that. Knowing one day he'd come home with you in tow. I used to think about what that would mean. For him. For me. For our lives. Drove myself sick over it so many times before I realized it didn't matter. That when Clint finally found you and brought you home it would just mean he was finally whole, that our family would finally be whole."
Jack grunted again and shook his head, pulling away from Laura's touch, slowly standing, legs shaking slightly as exhaustion threatened to drive him to the floor.
"You don't know who I am, what I was, or the things I've done in the name of...of saving the world." Jack shook his head and took a step away from Laura. "You..."
"Doesn't matter," Laura interjected quickly. "Clint brought you here. He wouldn't have done that if he didn't think you were more than your past."
"He..."
"Christ, Rollins, just listen to the lady," Clint's voice cut in and Jack jerked, surprising them all when he moved, putting his larger frame between Laura and the doorway Clint was standing in. "She's not wrong, you know? I wouldn't have brought you here if I thought, for a second, that you were beyond redemption."
Jack blinked, swaying slightly. "You..."
Clint was suddenly right there and, despite being shorter, smaller, looped an arm around him, letting Jack lean against him.
"Right now we're tucking you into a bed," the archer said, guiding Jack towards the door. "In the morning, after breakfast, you, Laura and I are going to sit down and have a proper conversation about all of this and then, if you stop acting like you've got your head shoved up your ass, you'll get to meet the kids."
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I made this a while ago for Oz as a thank you for all she did with the Christmas Anthology...I had meant to write something to go with it, but my muse has been so wonky lately with long fics, I figured the manip was better than nothing at all.
I will still probably write this, but it will be a while before it happens. So, I’ll go ahead and repost the six sentence ficlet I wrote for a prompt Oz gave me a while back. <3
Enjoy! :D
“PUT ME DOWN…YOU SCOUNDREL!” The blonde woman slung over his shoulder beat her fists at his back and kicked her legs to no avail.
“Now…ma’am…this is for your own good…” Frank began.
“MY OWN GOOD?!” She landed a smack square on the back of his head that rattled his teeth and he nearly dropped her on the beach right then and there. Let Fisk’s band of pirates do what they wanted with her.
He grit his teeth and hoisted her up higher on his shoulder. That weren’t a fate for anyone. No matter how…stubborn and ornery they were.
He plopped her in the row boat only to have to pluck her out of the water when she rolled out of it. Soaked to the skin and shivering, she finally quieted down enough for him to talk to her as he rowed towards his own ship. His crew was a skeleton one at best, and they weren’t gonna take kindly to him bringing another worthless mouth to feed on board, but he didn’t know what else to do.
Fisk’s men would have chewed her up, spit her out and left her for dead. And that was the nice way of puttin’ it. She was the only woman in that fort. She was lucky he found her first.
