#qsilva

[sunaddicted]

@gottaread2 thank you for the tag! This is going to be fun because I write long ass sentences 😬

Rules: share the first line of your most recent fanfics and then tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don't be shy and share anyway!

1. Gotham Blues (Nygmobblepot) - To say that Edward didn't remember the last time he had left Gotham would have been a lie; he didn't think there was anything in the whole universe that could make him forget watching the city disappear from sight, further and further away, swallowed by thick clouds as his plane climbed up in the sky, taking him all the way across the Atlantic where he alone would be privy to his ghosts and memories.

2. Cannibalized Hearts (Justice Lords Superbat) - In hindsight, Bruce should have known that the game he had been playing was one that he couldn't win; no matter how smart, how stealthy, how organized he was, in no universe he could have managed to aide the resistance when he was surrounded by super-powered beings that already kept him under tight surveillance, suspicious of his every move, well-aware that his heart just wasn't in the new Regime.

3. Valentine's Date Night (Superbat) - Bruce never had anything against Valentine's Day.

4. Curiosity (00Silva) - “So, who’s the new kid?”

5. Sweeter (Q&Silva) - “I’m telling you only one more time-”

6. Affinity (00Silva) - "Bond"

7. Dancing in Circles (00q) - Q didn't even raise his eyes from the monitor he was looking at when he heard the heavy noise of a package landing on his desk "Good morning to you too"

8. Of Scales and Feathers (Nygmobblepot) - Edward blinked slowly at the tank in front of him, one hand firmly wrapped around the handle of his gun and the other deliberately moving in front of the glass, trying to track its inhabitant's movements: it seemed lethargic enough - or maybe just disinterested in Edward, as long as he didn't reach inside of its enclosure.

9. Karaoke Nights (Nygmobblepot) - When Oswald had opened the Lounge, he had never imagined he would have to suffer through karaoke nights; they were the kind of tacky and cheap entertainment that didn't belong in a place as exclusive as his club, when rich Gothamites eagerly paid for watered-down and overpriced drinks just for the pleasure of rubbing shoulders with Gotham's Rogues.

10. Deluge (Nygmobblepot) - The rain wasn't exactly a stranger to Gotham but Oswald could barely remember the last time it had poured for so long - or better, he did remember but he had no desire to reminisce so, he just closed down the Iceberg Lounge when it became evident that not even Gothamites were willing to go out in such bad weather just for a drink, sent his employees home and went back to the manor, offering his driver a room for the night when the crack of thunder welcomed them to the Palisades: finding good and discrete drivers who could also handle themselves decently in a gun fight was a hassle and Oswald had no intentions of losing his when he had more than enough space to host him.

Tagging (no pressure!): @gwylliondream @irisbleufic @acapelladitty @spiritofcamelot @thegreenfairy13 @pamdizzle @gemenice @happygoloony @solarmorrigan @themuller13

[castillon02]

The Least Unacceptable Solution

Bond hadn’t come back from his outing with Severine. Instead, Severine had showed up at Q’s flat a few days later, a familiar gun in her hand that glowed green in her grip, suborned by Silva’s code. 

Q had swiftly discovered where Bond had been taken.

“You can save him,” Silva offered, his voice breathy in Q’s ear, his hand trailing down Q’s arm.

Across the room, Severine, her hands trembling, ran a knife down Bond’s abdomen and cut away a thin strip of skin that she set in a pile on the table next to Bond’s broken legs. She kept having to wipe away the blood from previous cuts so she could see what she was doing, and to wipe away her own tears for the same reason. She had streaks of Bond’s blood on her face. 

It was a small room. The coppery scent of Bond’s blood was inescapable. 

Q clenched his hands into fists. He had to restrain himself---they hadn’t done that for him. 

Silva had seemed amused when Q had pointed out that he could be a potential threat. “Oh, not to me, darling boy,” he had said, and he had laughed. 

“I’m not going to tell you anything,” Q said for the hundredth time, hoping that repetition would make it the truth. 

Silva laughed. “I don’t need information,” he said, chuckling. “I have that, silly boy.” He waited. 

Severine started another cut. 

Bond breathed hard through clenched teeth, his face twisted, a wretched sound rasping in the back of his throat. 

“What do you want?” Q asked. 

“I want you to join me,” Silva said, grinning fiercely. “And in return, I’ll let you put him out of his misery, merciful angel, the way nobody did to me. Come on, don’t be shy. Don’t you want to protect your agent, quartermaster? Help me build a world where they answer to someone who will kill them rather than leave them in agony.” 

Q looked at the half-healed bullet wound on Bond’s chest---maybe the least damaged part of him at the moment, but still scarred all to hell. Six had already disposed of Bond once. What was one more time? What was so wrong with burning it all to the ground and starting again? 

(Trapping people under fragmented concrete, no light in the dark but mobile screens, Q Branchers scurrying like rats through their broken tunnels---but hadn’t that old hack died too, and hadn’t Q, infinitely better at navigating the twenty-first century, replaced him? 

How long had Silva been planning to acquire him?)  

Silva withdrew the Walther from a holster under his pale coat and offered it to him. “One bullet left,” he said, abruptly serious. “Use it wisely.” 

Q gripped the gun. The light flashed green. His code, useless against Silva. His weapon, used against him. Against Bond. 

For Bond? For Silva?  

Q’s hands, which never betrayed him, stayed steady as he took aim and fired. 

[mi6-cafe]

It’s Supportive Sunday!

Supportive Sunday is a day when we encourage you to support someone in the fandom!

There are lots of ways to do that:

Kudos something you like

A short comment (“Loved this!” or “Extra kudos!”)

A more detailed comment (“X made me laugh out loud!”)

Make a rec post

Send a creator a short anon ask about their work! (“What inspired X?”)

Send a reader who’s commented a short anon ask showing your appreciation! (“Your comments make my day!”)

Reblog this post with a rec

As part of Supportive Sundays, we’re also highlighting some fancreations with few comments that may be overlooked.

Cold Heat, by tayryn. Summary: Sequel to Wolfsbride's 'Snowed In'. They're still in the safe house... and still generating heat. [James Bond/Dench!M] 

Tea Situation (fanart), by ladydoor. [00Q] 

I’m Sorry (Not Really), by runes01. Summary: “I’m sorry, James, though not really,” he murmurs as he gets up from his crouch. “It would have been nice to have gotten to know you better, but you simply had to ruin it by stabbing Silva in the back.” [Q/Silva] 

“I might just kiss you.”, by KittsFics. Summary: Q gestures at his desk which is covered in some small, twisted machinery fragments, and slowly drags himself to his feet, setting his laptop carefully aside. “I assume you’re here to add to that. Or has there been a miracle?” [00Q] 

AND IF YOU WANT NEW READING MATERIAL, YOU CAN ALSO CHECK OUT THE LAST WEEK OF LDWS DRABBLES AND VOTE!  

[sunaddicted]

bond prompts to pass the time: q in his fleabag era, confesses his love to bond during their last conversation in nttd "It'll pass." post nttd. q lied to bond about there being a cure. when he comes back for it, q tells the truth. every consequence you can think of would be better than canon. leiter doesn't convince bond to get back in the game. bond convinces leiter to leave it. they ditch that mormon at the club and retire into the sunset together. shipping or not idc. I think bond would love felix's family either way. any silvaq (qsilva) fic and/or ficlet ever: silva takes q hostage after his escape from mi6. anonymous cybersex turned irl date-from-hell. silva's the quartermaster and ben's a low-hanging q-branch employee under him. silva's taken in by bond, alive but paralyzed, and imprisoned by mi6 the same way blofeld was in nttd. he won't talk to anyone but q, because q reminds him of m (psychosexual obsession up to your interpretation.) silva tries to recruit q instead of bond. same island, same speech, same chair, different psychological evaluation results. NOT SUCH A CLEVER BOY backstory, because I think that dig was very stalkery and I'm almost sure you have theories. normal prompts to pass the time: q and eve making office small talk about their weekend plans, going to go see padington 2. q gets teased because he sounds like paddington. bond and eve give q's nttd date the shovel talk while they drink his wine and eat his food.

kind of a lot, so sorry but I couldn't pick one. I hope you think it's flattering because that's what I was going for! I really like your writing/meta/headcanons.

it's been ages since you've sent in this ask T.T - I'm so sorry, writer's block is not budging any time soon but I hope you these short fics for some of your prompts!

***

post nttd. q lied to bond about there being a cure. when he comes back for it, q tells the truth. every consequence you can think of would be better than canon.

This isn't a new fic (I wrote it after going to NTTD premiere) but I'm leaving it here, since it fits the prompt:

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

silva takes q hostage after his escape from mi6.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

silva's the quartermaster and ben's a low-hanging q-branch employee under him.

(I'm sorry, I'm pretty sure you wanted it to be Qsilva but this got away from me and became 00silva - I hope you enjoy it anyway!)

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[sunaddicted]

can I get some silvaq hcs, please? this day's been circus fire

I'm sorry this day has been a mess(TM), here some QSilva headcanons for you!

1. Raoul is very self-conscious about his prosthetic, to the point it takes him a long time before he even allows Q to kiss his cheek - let alone to allow himself to be seen without the prosthetic in place.

2. They never code together on the same project. The absurd perfectionism, the constant need to one up one another, the different coding style.. it all means that they would spend the entire time bickering rather than actually doing anything productive.

3. Every cool gun Q has tried to make for Raoul, while appreciated because a weapon is always handy, has never been as loved by the other man as the perfectly balanced throwing knife that Q has forged for him on MI6 dime while he was bored monitoring missions.

4. They are comfortable sharing silence while they pursue their own interests; it's not unusual for Q to be sprawled next to Raoul on the couch, sketching weapons and drinking tea, while the other man hacks his way into literally everywhere.

[sunaddicted]

This is a random snipped of something that one day might actually be a fully fledged fic. Maybe. I don't know. It just came out on its own lmao.

***

"I struggle to keep myself on the right path"

Raoul hummed, the quiet buzzing of the neon lights melting with his voice in the back of his throat as he stepped closer, careful not to breach the younger man's personal space - not yet.

Q looked down at his own hands, splayed on the keyboard like birds waiting to take flight "Sometimes I just wonder what would happen if I just… Snapped" the shame was almost unbearable, entwined along his spine together with the kind of sick and twisted excitement he would never admit to feeling - it was too akin to bleeding in the water, daydreaming of a shark tearing his body apart in the blue depths of the sea.

"One would argue you don't really need to wonder - or do you think that what happened to me wouldn't happen to you?"

Q swallowed, fingers trembling "Maybe"

Raoul stepped closer, hand closing around the other's wrist; he didn't need to squeeze to keep Q still: he knew perfectly well how easily he could snap the joint and make him useless "Not such a clever boy, after all"

"Bond-"

"Bond?"

The derision in Silva's voice stung even more than the knowledge that yes, Bond really wouldn't do anything to save him - that it was a stupid flight of fancy, the dream that the man would be on his side when Queen and Country were threatened.

"Your faith in the man is tragically misplaced"

Q swallowed the truth and turned his head to the side, trying not to startle as he realised just how close Silva was "Whereas I should trust you"

"We are more alike than you think" Raoul raised his other hand, finger tilting the younger man's chin up "I wouldn't let you burn"

[sunaddicted]

LDWS 2020, Week Four

Distraction

As a rule, Q always was rather suspicious of quiet - whether that was a side effect of working in espionage or just his nature, he wasn't particularly sure but he knew better than wasting too much brainpower on such considerations. Besides, a healthy dose of paranoia always paid off if the feeling was carefully kept on a leash.

Hand going to grab his taser, Q entered the bedroom and his eyes immediately zeroed in on his lovers "What are you doing?"

"Who - us?" James inquired with a shiteating grin, dramatically pointing at his own chest "Man of little faith"

Q gestured at Raoul, lounging against the bed post "At least he has the decency to not try to fool me" he pointed out as he relaxed in increments, tension gradually leaving his body as he made his way to the bed to sit at its foot "So?"

"What makes you think we are up to anything?"

The younger man batted James' hand away from his calf "You always are up to something when you're quiet: it's not like either of you"

Raoul's chuckle was satiny and dark - if Q hadn't found it ridiculous to compare a sound to food, his mind would have probably come up with some kind of stupid similitude involving a rich, dark chocolate cake "We aim to please, mi querido"

"That awfully sounds like an admission of guilt"

"Maybe" Raoul leaned over, finger tapping the point of the other's nose just to see the way it would scrunch up at the bothersome gesture "But who says I feel guilty about any of it?"

Taking advantage of Q's distraction, their lover clearly too busy - and failing at - glaring Raoul into properly confessing, James wrapped his hand around his ankle and tugged firmly, a delighted chuckle escaping his lips at the little shriek Q let out "Let's talk about it later" he murmured, bending down to brush their lips together "There's funnier things to do"

"Just tell me the place isn't gonna get swarmed by whatever international agency might be thirsting for our heads"

Raoul palmed his cheek, gently turning his head to meet his eyes "I promise"

Q sighed, eyes rolling even as he reached for the nape of the other's neck while he sneaked a foot between James' legs "Fine, but don't you think you can postpone this conversation for much longer"

"Wouldn't dream of it"

***

I want to thank all of you for reading and commenting for these drabbles even if I opted for not exactly popular ships - I hope you enjoyed reading the drabbles as much as I had fun writing them (I collected them all on ao3 for easier browsing!)

To my fellow writers, as usual it was an absolute pleasure to see what you came out with.

To the mods, I really fucking love you for making LDWS open to all ships this year lol

[sunaddicted]

Calming Influence (Q/Silva, crack)

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

James didn’t think he could be blamed for being suspicious of the way Raoul Silva buzzed around Q-Branch, flitting to computer to desk seemingly without any kind of supervision going on; it made something visceral inside of him twist and turn with the memory of the glass doors of MI6 effortlessly sliding open, as if they had been made for allowing an easy passage rather than restricting it - and all had been done remotely, from an apparently useless and damaged laptop. 

He didn’t want to know how much more damage the blonde could do if he ever got his fingertips on one of their computers keyboards, the little taste of hacking the man had given him while he had been tied up in his island-lair had been more than enough to make him healthily concerned of Silva’s capabilities: Q was good, undeniably so, but James had a feeling that the former Double-Oh was even better; he wasn’t an expert, he knew only basic hacking, but natural talent was only part of it - experience mattered and it was evident that Raoul Silva had had a lot of it.

Unrestrained too.

“How are you so nonchalant about the fact he’s roaming around as if he’s not a threat to national security?” James asked Q under the guise of getting the boffin a fresh cup of tea; nobody ever would find that suspicious, it was a well-known fact that the Quartermaster required a steady supply of tea throughout the day in order to function - he wasn’t sure about whether it was just a legend that had become fact or Q really was that dependent on caffeine.

“Would you believe me if I said he is a calming influence?”

“No”

“Well, he is”

James frowned, his eyes zapping from Q to Silva - still unnervingly too close for comfort to a computer that was hooked into the mainframe, if all the cables dangling from it were anything to go by - and back to the younger man, peacefully sipping from his mug, whole body relaxed against the edge of the desk he was leaning on.

It was kind of infuriating: here he was, worrying and vigilating like one was supposed to when a terrorist and murderer was in the room, and nobody seemed to give a shit.

“How so?”

Q shrugged “He keeps my temper in check” and whenever he hit a bug in his coding or a snag in his reasoning, it was refreshing and soothing being able to talk it out with someone who actually could follow him; R was good and talented but she just wasn’t at the same level, she couldn’t understand him as effortlessly as Silva did.

To be honest, Q was a little enamoured with the man.

He knew it was wrong , one just didn’t go and sprout a crush for a criminal mastermind that innumerable international agencies wanted to put their hands on so that they could permanently do away with him - but Q had always had a thing for smart and dangerous men who could make him sweat with a frisson of genuine fear; it wasn’t a part of his psyche he necessarily wanted to explore, he didn't really care about why he was attracted to the likes of Silva.

“You have a temper”

“Don’t sound so shocked”

“Well, I can’t help being surprised”

“Because I never murdered you for feeding the gun I slaved on to a Komodo dragon?”

Q was never going to let him live that down and James couldn’t really blame him for it: it hadn’t been his most thought out move, if he was honest with himself “Among other things” he conceded with a small nod, the corner of his eye constantly trained on Silva; every movement of the man made him tense, body getting ready for a fight seemingly out of its own volition - his reflexes acquired over years and years on the field came to life without James needing any kind of conscious effort on his part.

“Meditation works wonders, you should try it”

“If meditation works so well, why do you need that bastard around then?”

“Maybe I don’t mind the eye candy”

James didn’t splutter - he just did not . The noise that left his throat was… something that could go undescribed for the sake of his dignity “ Eye candy ?”

“You’re sounding a little hysteric”

“That’s Raoul Silva”

“And?”

“He blew up the old headquarters, almost killed me and killed M”

“Oh, shuck the holier than thou attitude: it’s not like you’ve never fucked someone who was on the other side of the chessboard, to put it metaphorically”

“You’ve fucked him?!” James hissed, crowding closer to Q in the hopes that feeling a little threatened would make the younger man change his version and say that he had just been joking, purposefully riling him up in an attempt at getting back at him for all the wasted and destroyed equipment.

He would even admit he deserved it, if that ended up being the truth.

“Bond-”

“Q”

Why did he never manage to keep his fucking mouth shut? The younger man stepped even closer, not wanting anyone to accidentally hear the conversation they were having; Q could already feel the blood rising to grace the tip of his ears and the apples of his cheeks, the telltale betrayal operated by his own body “ Yes - and you’ll keep your mouth shut about it if you ever want to go back out in the field with a functioning gun”