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mdhwrites · 2 months ago

Note

Im sorry if im annoying, is just I really love Tmnt, specially Rise, and I also enjoy reading your analysis and stuff.

So, if is bothering you, you can delete this ask, is cool 👍

Now, my question is, character wise, like in a quick grande, idk if makes sense- IMPRESSIONS.

What would it be your first impression of the characters?

*bops you on the head* Stop apologizing. I've said before that if I had nothing to say, I'd just answer it privately. However, I LOVE discussions and I always appreciate asks so you're never annoying me with these. Please, don't worry about it so much.

As for the characters for Rise of the TMNT, I can't comment on everyone as I've only watched so much, like I have no real grasp on April yet besides liking her, but I actually want to start on the major thing that I think both allowed Rise to stand out and what made it so divisive at its inception, especially since talking about stuff like that is kind of going to bleed into what I think of the brothers. After all, I think whether you love the show or hate it, we all recognize that the brothers are very markedly different in this incarnation than literally any other, even if you can point to ones in the past for inspiration.

Most TMNT shows are MNT. Mutant. Ninja. Turtle. Those are the elements that they care about. Rise cares about TMT and goes about SHREDDING the fantasy that is the turtles as ninja. Not that they aren't ninja but like... What do ninja who TEENAGE MUTANT TURTLES like?

This actually even goes to Shredder's change which I'd never heard about before now: He's kind of a washed up loser. Again, I don't know everything but he's just as playful as the boys, he watches television, he goes on joyrides, he loses his mind when he's sick. He's not some grand wise mentor... And I get it. This is a man, going off normal canons, who lost his master, got thrown away, ended up halfway across the fucking globe and lives in a GOD DAMN SEWER. Not some pristine dojo. Not some high tech. Not even a cozy lair repurposed out of a sewer because none of that shit was around. All he had was a dank ass sewer. To say he hit rock bottom would be an understatement.

And mind you, it's not that her turned cruel because of this. He still passed on what culture he could but without stealing really expensive imports, what of his culture does he even have? He can't go to the library to check out books for the new family he wants to make. He can't buy home school programs to help him teach them. He has nothing. And he's old. He was already a man when shit went wrong for him in most canons so by the time the turtles are teenagers, he's at least fifty. Usually he's depicted as WAY older than that, like 70 or 80. Instead of that meaning he's some mystical figure, he's instead the cooky old dude who's maybe not all there all the time. That's a really neat reinterpretation of the character that's genuinely more realistic while befitting the tone of the TMNT franchise where yeah, it's still kind of cranked to eleven.

This is also your warning that I fucking love these characters.

So what about the brothers? If they aren't privileged but underground but instead genuinely stuck slumming it, what happened to them? Well, a core change seems to be not so much a want to belong, they actually don't seem that interested in being accepted by society, but a desire to covet society. To be able to watch and be a part of the concept of society. That's why they're totally at home watching a wrestling match. They aren't wishing they could be in the ring, they're just happy to be part of the crowd with the best seats in the house. They don't have to mind that they have to fight in costume, they're gonna rock it because they're in fucking costume and someone challenged you to a dance battle? You respond with a dance battle. They are MORE content with being outcasts than the turtles normally are because they live vicariously through media like many people do. This is with ONE exception that I'll get to.

I also like, just as a side note, that just because they are normal amongst mutants biologically, they still have no fucking clue what they're doing. They're genuinely caught between two worlds with double the naivety because of it and get screwed over by both halves because of it. Just a fun touch.

OKAY. Enough preamble. Let's actually go from the least to most bold changes of the brothers, at least from my perspective. I've never been huge into TMNT, just never really found a show I managed to watch consistently but I've liked most of what I've seen including the first Michael Bay Turtles movie, so I may not know how radical these alterations are or how safe they are except in a few small cases. For this though, the first one to talk about is pretty easy:

Michelangelo: *stares at how spellcheck just wrote that name* No wonder people fuck up mine. ANYWAYS, the reason I say he's the least bold is because adding artistic to your quirky, comedic heart of the group is not really so much a change as just a small pivot in trope. He's still more inclined towards recklessness, he's still the one who can broach the gaps between his brothers and he is the... Well, he is the one who is telling the most genuine jokes. Again, we'll get to him. But yeah, I like him but he's not actually that interesting to discuss, yet, for me because he is the one who is the most what you would expect.

Donatello: I bet some of you expected him to take the top slot but hear me out: I actually recently did a blog contrasting Big Bang and The Owl House for their depictions of nerds. The point of it was really to say that TOH tried to claim their nerds were some groundbreaking, brave representation but that they were 'good' nerds besides the one uncomfortable nerd who got in the way and that no one liked. The difference between a nerd who never brings up their interests at dinner unless prompted versus one who MIGHT ask "Hey, am I bothering you with this," thirty minutes into a rant about a niche issue with their favorite media that they brought up because you mentioned the wrong time. Say yes and you are going to be there the rest of the fucking night. THIS is what I see with Donatello. Donnie is usually just the tech dude and by that we mean he's conveniently the one who can spit technobabble out and fix things. He is nerdy but he'd never be someone you really question spending time with. This Donnie refuses to spend time with YOU and he will let you know it. He is the brutal honesty, amongst other things, of being autistic, alongside the fact that when they say he "Does machines" in the intro, I wouldn't be surprised if that wasn't foreshadowing him making himself a girlfriend out of his one true love. Now, that is going a little far. Donnie does love his brothers but of the three, he struggles the most to know how to deal with them in a human way, to the point where this is addressed very early on with him trying to fix what he finds most annoying about them and how that's wrong. This is not literally the opposite of normal, Mikey is usually the heart of the brothers after all, but Donnie usually gets along because he doesn't really have enough personality to clash. This Donnie has enough personality to perform a heel turn for someone taking shit from him. It's great. However, he is still the tech dude and still somewhat removed from his siblings, both of which are pretty normal even if the execution is different, so it's not as radical a change as the next two.

Now for the two that actually play into why I did all my preamble.

Raphael: I haven't gotten backstories yet but if it turns out Raph looked around himself as he was growing up and realized NO ONE was the adult, I wouldn't be surprised. He doesn't seem traumatized by this fact by any means but he does give the impression of having grown up faster than the rest. He's not just physically more than them, he's mentally more. He's taken a step they all will eventually need to follow him... But he's not going to drag them kicking and screaming with him unless they're being genuine dumbasses. I actually love EVERY part of how this comes to play out. Raph doesn't have his hotheadedness, he has something much closer to cold fury which implies he knows that he can't lose it the way old Raphs did but that anger is still there. He is the one who actually has plans and most often presents worry over how something might go wrong, or sees through the rouses set by his brothers, meaning that he's taken the role of guardian over them (which makes his power being a form of shields technically chef's kiss). HOWEVER, by contrast, he has what feels a bigger blindspot to people outside of his family when it comes to tricks, likely because he's been focused on his brothers for long enough that he has become more naive than even many of the others of the world outside their home. This is probably why he has some of the bigger hero worship amongst them, especially since he's trying to live up to nobler ideas, or at least more adult ideals. That's ironic due to-

Leonardo: The choice to give him the voice Randy Cunningham is pitch perfect casting. This is EASILY the biggest and most jarring change but for the me the most welcome. Leo was never really a straight man from what I could tell comedically, Raph or Donnie usually did more of that, but instead was meant to be the rock of the group. Instead, he just came off as many bad adventure leaders: No personality. He's a nice enough guy and he's good at what he does but that's what you say about your mailman, not the leader of your ensemble cast.

This Leo is anything but this. He does not covet society, he wishes for society to covet him. He has taken celebrity worship to its natural conclusion of wanting to be a celebrity at all costs. He sees himself as the hottest shit out there and you bet your buns he's going to let you know it. He will do anything for recognition which is hardly surprising for a kid who grew up in the sewers watching stuff like Kung Fu movies. He wants to be that level of awesome and you better believe he knows the phrase "Fake it till you make it." Of course, he doesn't think he's faking it which makes when he gets punched in the face all the more satisfying. But... This does come with some wrinkles. He does not look upon the world favorably. If Raph is too innocent, he's cynical. Everything is quid pro quo. If you show him why you're giving him praise, even if it's shallow or a lie, he'll believe you because he is easily manipulated but you show him nothing? You say you JUST want to help without even being family? Yeah that doesn't fly because it's not what he would do, often times even with his own family. It makes for an interesting version of awareness. All of this does beg a simple question though: Is there any connective tissue between old Leo and new one? Is this like Teen Titans Go where they entirely scrapped the old character just to make him some shit eating idiot?

Confidence, wit, and spirit. Raph's greatest problems as a leader is that he isn't quick on his feet, he can't get people to listen to him and when he does have a plan, he doesn't have as much confidence as he needs to make sure everyone follows it. Leo genuinely has everything and than what Raph has a leader. He is smart, that's why he's a snarky bastard. He's confident to an extreme fault but that means when he pitches you an idea, it sounds legit just because of how much he seems to believe in it. And hey, even after he gets punched, he gets back up. He will make you say he is the best or die trying (which from my understanding is essentially the fuck up he makes at the beginning of the movie but with nobler intentions). He is missing two key components from being a genuinely great leader and ninja. The ability to see outside of himself and maturity. He needs to grow up and remember there's no I in team. That it doesn't matter who got the final hit, what matters is that the job was accomplished at all. He needs to stop wanting to be a celebrity, an icon to worship and trudge behind, and instead be a leader who is shoulder to shoulder to you. Who says that anything he'd ask of you, he'd ask of himself.

That is a fucking INCREDIBLE pitch for your main character as a starting point. All the things he needs but a radical wake up call that will force some HARD change if he wants to realize his real potential. Even better, his real potential is what he wants to be seen as, just that so long as the image is what he cares about, he'll never be what he wants to be. It's pitch god damn perfect and the fact that he is a delightful asshole who gets everything he deserves coming to him, constantly, from all angles, while he works on himself makes for a very entertaining character even as you wait for this arc to potentially happen. He is a good cartoon character either way and not everyone call pull that off.

In fact, even the most shallow of them makes for someone who you know will at least make you smirk if you give them eleven minutes. To me, that's a pretty good sign for a good character if one of your main goals is to entertain. And man... These turtles are entertaining. See you next tale.

======++++++======

Also, small note: I finally hit 200 followers! And I'm announcing this on a blog most of them probably aren't going to read. XD

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rotmnt #Positive #Character analysis

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sailorsplatoon · 6 months ago

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It's Saturday! You know what that means? New dedfour chapter! I hope you all enjoy chapter two!

First (prologue)

Read it on ao3!

(fanfic under cut)

The world was blindingly bright, like someone had just turned fluorescent lights on in a room that had been dark for a very long time. And there was a loud ringing; there had been no noise at all and then suddenly an explosion of sound. Parallel Canon didn’t know where they were, they didn’t know why they were awake. As long as the mask stayed on, they shouldn’t have even needed to think. So the mask must have been off. Why was the mask off? They never took it off, so someone else must have. They knew that they were supposed to fight the person who did. But they were just so tired and everything was so bright that they could barely see and their ears hurt so bad.

As their eyes slowly adjusted, they began to notice the silhouettes of three octolings and a drone. They didn’t hear much of their conversation—the ringing in their ears would not stop— but they did pick up on the fact that they were supposed to climb to the top of the Spire of Order with a palette. They had their orders, now all they needed to do was carry them out. Normally following orders didn’t take this much thought. Normally it didn’t take any thought at all. Normally they didn’t even need to be conscious. But they would do what they were told nevertheless.

They made it to 1F and set the color chip into their palette. Something changed. A memory forced its way into the blissful emptiness of their mind.

“Hmm… the Octarians…” a woman dressed in a dark grey kimono with her tentacles up in a bow turned to face them. The memory faded before she said any more.

That was strange. They weren’t supposed to have any memories at all. It was probably just a glitch. It would be better to ignore it. They had orders to attend to. They went out onto the floor and completed it in just a few seconds.

Moments later, Parallel Canon had finished 5F. For every color chip they set into their palette, they got more memories back. It was torture.

“Why,” they groaned. They wanted to say “Why are you tormenting me?” But they could only make one word come out. That was not good. They weren’t supposed to talk at all. They’d broken so many rules. They’d destroyed the order. What would happen to them now?

It only got worse from there. After 10F, they started crying. They didn’t even know why, but they couldn’t stop. Everything hurt so much. At 15F they hunched down on the floor unable to control their heart rate or their breathing. They felt like they were having a heart attack and drowning at the same time. They were only halfway to the top, and they already felt so much pain. On the ride to 16F they were now fully aware of the other people in the elevator, though they didn’t know who any of them were.

“Am I real?” They didn’t mean to speak. They weren’t trying to. But their thoughts had become so loud that they ended up saying them.

“Yes, you never weren’t. Everything here might be digital but your mind is very real, and you have a physical body too,” said an octoling who was holding a laptop.

“What if I’m like this forever?” They’d started asking questions now, why not keep going? They had so many, and this one felt so important. They were tired of hurting. Everything felt wrong and they wanted it to stop.

“You won’t be, we’re gonna take you to the top of the Spire and you’ll be all better!” Now it was the drone who spoke. Would the pain really go away once they reached the top?

“How do I know who’s telling the truth?” The words of Order screamed in their mind, but someone else’s words screamed back, fighting against it. They didn’t know which was right anymore. They were afraid.

“We would never lie to you. We care about you,” another octoling stepped in, he seemed like he might start crying.

“It broke me.” They weren’t sure what they meant when they said that, but they knew they were broken.

“Me too.” The octoling who said this was green and did not look at anyone in the elevator as they spoke.

****

Parallel Canon was at 19F now, they set their chip into the palette and prepared for another memory to appear in their head. They weren’t sure how much they hated it anymore. It was almost nice having some of their memories back, having some of themself back. They knew they weren’t supposed to, but was breaking the rules really that bad? What were they saying, of course it was. Something was really wrong with them.

“Ahem… I need you to go get the Great Zapfish back from those slimy Octarians. What do you say? Are you in?” It was another memory of the woman in the kimono. Parallel Canon had learned by now that her name was Marie. “Soooooooo…” she continued. “I’ll take your awkward silence as a yes. Welcome aboard! You are now Agent 4 of the New Squidbeak Splatoon!”

That was it. Their name. They weren’t Parallel Canon. They were Agent 4.

“Agent 4? Yo, Agent 4? ‘Rina you sure they can hear me?”

“They should be able to. I don’t know, they’re supposed to be a lot better by now.”

“Why do you know my name… where am I?” Agent 4 looked around the elevator, disoriented. They felt like this was their first time being fully awake in their entire life.

“You’re in the elevator in the Spire of Order. In the Memverse. We know your name because we’re your friends. Are you okay?” The octoling with the laptop sounded concerned.

“I think so…? I don’t know. What happened to me?”

“You—” Laptop Octoling interrupted herself with a long sigh— “You were greyscaled by Order. You lost your memories, personality, all of what makes you who you are. I’m so sorry, this is all my fault. I created the Memverse, if I had put more time into making sure this didn’t happen maybe you wouldn’t have to go through all this. I am so so sorry, Agent 4.”

“Oh wow umm okay.” Four’s voice shook. They didn’t know what emotion they were feeling, but it certainly was’t a positive one. “I’m going to be honest I can’t really remember who any of you are right now. I’m sorry if I’m supposed to. I’m struggling remembering a lot.”

“Yeah, that’s totally okay. Normal for your situation, even. I’m Marina. This is Pearl, Eight, and Acht. We’re all going to help you ascend the Spire. The higher you go and the more color chips you collect, the more your memories will return.”

“Okay, that makes sense. So I should probably go complete this floor then.”

“Yeah, good idea. Good luck!”

With that, Agent 4 walked out onto the floor, now determined to climb as high up the spire as they could. They were already on floor 19 out of 30, so they were more than halfway there. This one gave them more difficulty than the others had, though that made sense since it was labeled rigorous. But something changed this time, they fought so much different than they normally did. Their movements were random and haphazard, almost chaotic. But that wasn’t possible. They were probably just over exaggerating.

They cleared the floor and moved on to the boss at 20F, it was Asynchronous Rondo. They knew the trick to beating this one. They’d never fought it themself, but they’d seen one of the octolings— Marina had introduced him as Eight— fighting it several times. They were nearly splatted, but they managed to pull through. Again, their fighting felt strange, wrong somehow. Marina said that they had been greyscaled and were still recovering, so it was probably because of that. But they still weren’t sure if they wanted to be fully cured or if they would rather to go back to the way they were.

21F offered them a vending machine corner. They took the opportunity for a break the instant they could. They sat there next to the machine, their head in their knees. They didn’t know how long they were there, just sitting with their thoughts.

All Parallel Canon wanted was to go back down the tower. To give up. To let the emptiness take them once more.

But all Agent 4 wanted was to keep going. Keep climbing. To remember who they were.

They thought they knew already, but maybe not.

Then they felt something cold around their shoulders, like someone’s arm but not warm enough to be a living person’s. They looked over to whoever had sat down next to them. It was Acht, the green octoling who operated the elevator. Them being there was somehow comforting. It felt good to have someone with them.

“I’m… not the greatest at this. Emotions aren’t really my thing. Yet, I guess. I don’t know.” They seemed anxious, like they weren’t used to talking about how they feel. Though, Four wasn’t sure if they were used to it either. “What I’m trying to say is, I’ve been where you are. It’s scary, I know. But if you let fear win then you’re not going to get any better. And sometimes it’s hard to know if you even want to get better. And it takes a long time, I’m still recovering, but you’ve made so much progress so fast and you can’t give up now. Please don’t give up now.”

Four wasn’t sure what to say. Did Acht really know what they were going through? If they had managed to survive it, maybe Four could too.

“I won’t. I promise. Thank you.”

#dedfour #acht x agent 4 #watch the sky with you #splatoon fanfiction #agent 4 #agent 4 side order #agent 4 splatoon #acht splatoon #dedf1sh #ahato mizuta #side order #this chapter is a little repetitive compared to chapter one but idc #I thought it was important to get this part from both of their POVs #the entire fanfic won't be like this tradeoff of POVs #it was just for these two chapters

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rogueshadeaux · 4 months ago

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Slllliiiiiides over here. Hi hello. I don't think I'll do a bad karma run (IM SORRY. IM SORRY!!) cause a) I'm a wimp and b) I need to get off videogames as soon as I'm done cause I've spent too much time playing lately lmao BUT I will be watching playthrougs cause I gotta know how fucked up he gets.... I gotta know...

To clarify i have a pre existing oc from a story that could be very easily flung into a vat of "au juice" because she's already halfway there in her own cannon LMAO we shall see, for now I have a huge list of things I want to draw for this game so I gotta finish 2 before I explode then I can unleash myself on art again. Gotta feed the discord now. I'm cooking for a crowd.

hi i've been dead for 8 days and recuperating for two lol I understand life stuff (and saw some references to it on your timeline, like the warhammer stuff and the tarot card thing??? bro that shit looks so good!!) as someone that literally shared your stuff and then got ripped away for my own life happenings lmfao. But if you get the chance in the future? Seriously, try an evil karma inF2 run. There's something about how they balanced the story that puts its predecessor AND sequel to shame. They're the same story, but different tales. They have the same goal, but different goalposts. SPP gives you a well-thought-out storyline that both is cohesive, but feels like your choices actually matter. It has none of the "I can help this old lady...or kick her fucking dog lol" of inFAMOUS 1, or the "I will fight for the tribe but literally do everything wrong. everywhere. because I'm a Bad Boy™" of inFAMOUS: Second Son. The choices feel real. They feel sound. They feel like the choices a man wronged by the world would make, if he decided to turn to his harbored resentment instead of his morality. And let's be honest, Cole also feels more morally gray in inF2 than 1 anyways, so seeing the path he takes is great because it genuinely feels like he's done with the accumulation of every shitty situation that has happened to him. And I'm sure you know how the story ends now, so...don't you wanna see what happens if he chose the other option? (pls tell me you haven't watched the playthrough yet lmfao)

Anyways yeah no I totally get life shit, it loves to pull you away from stuff, and also as someone only just now trying to do the bad options in Detroit: Become Human despite getting the game at launch because I need 6 years of preparation to be the bad guy, I understand the wimp bit too. It's hard to be mean sometimes. But with Cole's inF2 story, it doesn't feel mean. It feels like a desperate man, trying to fight for a future he's not convinced cares about him.

And yes oh my god please keep creating lmfao we all love your art so goddamn much. Don't leave this fandom you're now a very important asset. And it's always a good thing, throwing old friends into new situations! I love an OC in a wardrobe change. That's usually the best translation. Think a bit harder about forcing that OC into a new role. Shove her ass onto the stage. We'd all love her.

#infamous #infamous 2 #Cole MacGrath #bro i will scream about this fucking game from the rooftops nonstop it's the best one outta them all.#genuinely the only game i've ever played the bad guy in and went 'yeah okay i'd do that irl too'#versus vomitting when picking the asshole options in other games lmfao. i cannot be mean.#momma ain't raise no bitch but she DID raise an overthinking goody two shoes #seriously tho i love your art and pleASE keep at it. and good luck with the warhammer thing!! 32 minifigs is a LOT i do not envy you #will say you're the ONLY person I know who likes Kuo!! Which is so funny watching you integrate into the fandom talking so well about her #when I have like 3 friends I know that have made up instances in fics/hc just to kill her ass. everyone hates her lmfao #anyways you're aussie and i am an american about to sleep so. todaloo kangaroo.#also i do NOT have the inFAMOUS comics illegally on a google drive. How could you ask that? I know you wanted to read them but my god #I can't believe you'd think I have pirated material that I'd willingly distribute if you shot me a message (👀)

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saintatomique · 8 days ago

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Extended F.A.Q/Interview about 'Heroes Of Oblivion'

(The post below is related to the release of the visual novel 'Heroes Of Oblivion', which is out on itch.io now)

What is this game/What is it about?

This game is a retrofuturistic (40s-inspired) sci-fi and supernatural drama that revolves around a group of friends and touches important issues such as duty, maturity, morality, essence of what a hero is, and what is worth fighting for. I can call it a story about 'growing up', even though the characters are kids in it only for a short time. But they are and it's important. Imagine the worst possible time to grow up. The worst possible circumstance of growing up. Imagine the situation when this eternal optimism of youths that allows them to grow up is impossible. The only situation when closing yourself off to the world seems better than growing up. And you will already be halfway close to what the game is about.

What made you create it?

When I started this game, I was thinking of 'anti-horror', of turning a trope 'survival horror' on its head. Much like Undertale questioned the traditional RPG, I intended to question the traditonal horror and I hold the same disdain for typical horror as Toby Fox holds for traditional rpgs. I think disdain in general is a very powerful thing, especially against things that are perceived as 'heroic'. Tolkien hated power-hungry futurists, Miyazaki also hated them, and also hated the war. Authors seem to hate 'heroes' which aren't really heroes. I attempted to be like them by also questioning what being a hero means. My personal target is a 'James Bond' type of hero who always goes out of situations unscathed, who always has 'fun', this certain glorification of slipperiness, glorification of avoiding pain. At least those brutish cowboys and knights of the past weren't afraid of a couple of wounds and bruises. When they did wrong and acted like pigs, they paid for it - sometimes, with their lives. But modern life glorifies a different kind of hero - the one who is above any kind of consequence. This is what I am trying to dismantle.

Who do you think this story is for?

People who like to cry. I am only half joking.

I made this game to share the experiences of other people, some of them my ancestors. My own, too. This is the first time I am opening up about certain things that I personally experienced, actual conversations I had, almost word for word in certain cases. Many times, if not for all times, you will say 'That's fucked up' and you will be right. That's why I am writing about it. There are many controversial things about it. I find it a bit sad becasue I was simply writing down the conversations I had with people around me. My life is controversial, it seems. Well, someone has to do it!

One of the episodes has teens discussing sexual things, quite crassly, even jokingly describing their attraction to what is perceived as 'adults'. I am sure the community will label it unhealthy, even though that's what I am talking about - it IS unhealthy, not just unhealthy, way worse than that. But it's important to show those conversations I had with my friends exactly as they were. I am not writing an instruction manual for life. I am telling a story about terrible things I saw and since I am in my thirties and I expect my readers to be at least 20+, I will tell this story as it happened.

Who is your personal favorite character out of the game's characters?

Out of the four scientists, I'd say my favorite one is Credence, because he is very earnest underneath his very unpleasant exterior. But overall, I'd say my favorite character is still Mort.

At the end of the development recently, I realized how much I actually miss him. It was a real feeling of longing and deep gratitude. I am happy that we got to experience it together and I can honestly say that I will love him for the rest of my days.

What do you think a player will get out of your game?

A mountain of anguish and a broken heart. But it is by design. This is how it has to be if you love something sincerely.

#oc #art #vn #character #visual novel #game #gamedev #oc artwork #illustration #indiedev #screenshotsaturday #heroes of oblivion #indiegamedev

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starlitangels · 2 years ago

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“Last Night (Mistake)” Alternative Situations

I bungled some opportunities when I wrote “Last Night (Mistake)”. Allow me to fix that with a pair of different setups and a different opening

Assuming Blake and Elliott are around the same age, their senior year of high school was either 2012 or 2013 so that’s about when these take place

This is a lot of spice. No smut but Very Spicy. Don’t read it while you’re at work or in class

2.7k words

—

Alternative Situation #1

One of my many playlists thumping away its beat from my iPod Touch, I sat on one corner of Blake’s bed in his basement bedroom, him on the other end. I had my feet up on his leg and he was fiddling with the seam of my sock while reading his textbook. I had my review packet on my lap, but I’d glazed over trying to read it two songs ago. My eyes scanned the paragraphs of important information but the letters and words were all meaningless as my focus continued to dwindle.

“Blake?” I asked.

“Mm?”

“My brain is gonna melt out of my ears.”

“Sorry. Need a break?”

“Probably. Just stand up for a few minutes. Get some blood flow back to my brain or something.”

I moved to get my feet off of him, but he wrapped one hand around my ankle.

Before I could even ask what he was doing, he ran one fingertip up the sole of my foot.

I yelped and kicked. “Hey! No tickles!”

He smirked. His grip on my ankle tightened. He tickled with more fingers.

I squirmed and kicked harder. “Blake!” I reached behind me—my review packet falling to the ground, forgotten—and grabbed one of his pillows and bringing it around to whack him with it.

It hit him in the face with an “Oof!”

He cackled and tried to grab it from me, but I didn’t let it go and moved to whack him again. Not in the face this time.

He snatched it out of my hands with less difficulty and tossed it halfway across his room. “If you’re gonna hit me, be brave and just hit me,” he said with a smile.

I whacked him in the arm with the back of my hand. “No! I don’t actually want to hurt you,” I said.

He shrugged and grabbed my ankle again, moving as though to tickle my foot again.

“No!” I protested, kicking and actually releasing myself this time.

I drew my feet off his lap and folded them closer to me until I was sitting cross-legged. Biting his lip in concentration, Blake leaned over the bed toward me like he was going to try to tickle me again. I scrambled backward until my spine pressed against the headboard of his bed.

“No. No-no,” I said.

He paused and withdrew. “Do you really wanna stop? I-if you’re not comfortable... I mean, I thought we were just messing around. I meant to just be messing around. If that’s not how you see it and you want to stop I’m fine to.”

I gestured vaguely. “I’m just not a big fan of being tickled,” I said.

“So... what if I do... this?” He snapped his fingers—

And the pillow catapulted from the floor and hit me right in the head.

“You jerk!” I exclaimed through a laugh. “Oh, you are gonna get it now!” I grabbed the pillow and started hitting him with it. He laughed and lunged to grab his other pillow to fight back, but I blocked him. “Oh no you don’t!”

He grabbed my leg and yanked me away from his headboard so he could go over the top of me to grab at the pillow where I couldn’t block him. His fingertips dug into my inner thigh for a better grip—sending a thrill of sensitive sensation up my spine and making me go weak. I sucked in a deep breath, realizing how dry my mouth was.

Blake sensed the shift—

But didn’t let go of my leg. Didn’t loosen his grip. Just stayed where he was, above me, looking down. Pupils blown wide and eyes wider. His other hand was bracing into his pillow over my head where he’d grabbed at it, leaving him somewhat diagonal over me.

The playful mood was gone, leaving a charged atmosphere in its place.

“B... Blake...”

My voice was breathless. I didn’t even know what I was saying. Was I warning him off? Spurring him on?

He licked his lips and shifted his weight backward. Just enough to take pressure off his other hand.

He ran the backs of his fingers down my cheek, then my neck. At the curve where it met my shoulder, I gasped slightly at that thrill again. Every muscle in my back went slack and my eyelids fluttered. “Oh God...” I breathed.

Blake lifted his fingers off my neck, but the fingertips of his other hand tested their grip on the inside of my thigh, squeezing.

I bit back the little moan that rose, unbidden, to my throat. But some of the sound was still audible over the playlist continuing to play over Blake’s small set of speakers.

Slowly, he lowered himself down.

Delicately feather-light, he brushed his lips to mine.

Wound so tight, that gentle sensation made me snap. I grabbed at his head and held him close to me, kissing him harder.

He replied with equal enthusiasm. Massaging his hand against both of my inner thighs and scooping the noises I made from it out of my mouth with his tongue. Moaning into it himself.

His other hand darted under my shirt. “This okay?” he breathed.

I nodded. “Yes. Please. Keep going.”

He explored under my shirt. My back arched as he dug his fingers into the skin next to my spine as my eyelids fluttered closed.

“Can I take this off?” He tugged at my hem.

“Please.” I helped him get my shirt off. He stripped his own and threw it off to the side. It hit his bedroom door—that was closed. When had it closed? We usually studied with it open...

All thoughts slid out of my head like sand through a child’s fingers when his lips landed on the curve of my shoulder.

One of his hands was scrambling to unbuckle the belt of his shorts. I reached up and helped him, undoing the belt and popping open the button on his waistband while he handled the zipper. “Is this okay?” he asked. I nodded—over and over. “Use your words.”

“This is better than okay,” I said. “Keep going—oh God, please keep going.”

“Can I take yours off?”

“Please. Blake please.”

He pulled at the waistband of my shorts as he kicked his own off.

“Damn, you’re beautiful,” he whispered. “C’mere.”

He pulled me flush against him and kissed me hard. I met him with fervor.

—

Alternative Situation #2

“That man is playing Galaga! Thought we wouldn’t notice... but we did. How does Fury even see these?”

“He turns.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

Blake snorted. “You know, I gotta be honest, I didn’t think they were gonna be able to pull this off,” he whispered. Even though we were just on the couch of the basement of his parents’ house, he knew if he talked too loud through a movie I’d just shush him.

“Yeah, I agree,” I agreed. I offered him the popcorn bowl. He took a handful and chipped away at putting it in his mouth a few at a time. “I mean, when we saw this in the theaters I was just overwhelmed by the spectacle but this way... I’m still impressed.”

“There’s gonna be no way they’ll be able to keep this kind of quality up for the big team-ups. Hype and expectations will always exceed delivery,” he remarked.

“Mm. Probably,” I agreed. “Guess that depends on taste, too.”

“Mm. Yeah. True.”

I popped some of the popcorn in my mouth.

One of the engines blew up on the Helicarrier. I leaned forward, still enjoying the anticipation even though I already knew what was going to happen.

Blake put an arm around me and pulled me backward. “Hey. Down in front. You’re blocking my view of the TV with your big-ass cranium.”

I smacked him in the chest with the back of my hand. “Jerk,” I snapped.

He didn’t remove his arm from around me. Just laughed and gave me a squeeze. “You love me,” he said.

“Do I?”

“Yes—I’m your best friend. You have to.”

“My best friend who is a jerk to me,” I snapped playfully, smiling, giving him a gentle whack in the chest with the back of my hand again.

He chuckled again and gave me another squeeze. “Is it okay for me to leave my arm here?”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

At first, I didn’t think much of it. He’d put his arm around me before. Usually in public when he was trying not to lose me at school or the rare occasion we went to the mall with our friends. Or the local fan convention. It was always casual. Nothing behind it.

Slowly, I became very well aware that his hand was warm. I could feel its heat even though he wasn’t even touching me with it. It was just dangling in the air where his forearm was braced against my shoulder.

“Your hand’s gonna fall asleep,” I said after a while.

“It fell asleep a few minutes ago,” he replied. “It got better.”

“Wanna move it?”

“Sure.” He shuffled so he was even closer to me and his hand could rest against my side. “This okay?”

“Sure.”

His hand hadn’t been against my side for two minutes before his thumb started to rub back and forth against my shirt. The movement was comforting. I shuffled my position so my side was pressing into his hand. “Feel good?” he asked.

I nodded. “Can I... rest my head on your chest?”

He smiled at me. “Of course.”

I leaned so I could put my head between his shoulder and chest. I could still see the movie but I was snuggled up against him.

Blake started rubbing his whole hand up and down my side and arm. I smiled softly. “This okay?” he asked.

“Mmhmm.”

He kept at it. I wasn’t really paying attention to the movie anymore, and I doubted he was either. I was focused on his hand on my side and arm. Warm, slightly callused.

I gasped lightly when his rubbing of my side pulled up my shirt enough that when he went up again, he went under my shirt. My back tensed, arching slightly. His hand was really warm. And it felt really good. The touch was firm enough not to tickle, but gentle enough to slide easily.

“Is this okay?” he asked as his hand trailed higher up my side, fingers running over my ribs.

I nodded. “Yeah.” I sounded breathless to my own ears.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him grinning softly.

He started to trace his fingertips over my bare skin. Not just my side. Daring to delve across my torso. One of his fingers flicked a quick circle around the skin of my navel.

My breathing grew short when his thumb dug lightly into my side just under my lowest rib, coming in little gasps. The movie was still playing but I had no idea what was even going on in it anymore. Had the final fight started yet? Were the credits rolling? Who knew? Certainly not me. And not Blake either, judging by how he was looking at me when my eyes rolled back just enough to see him.

“Blake... w... wait...” I was even more breathless.

His hand disappeared from my skin—and goosebumps rose where it grew cold from the lack of contact.

I squirmed, body seeking that warmth of his hand.

“D... don’t stop,” I whispered. “Please.”

He looked down at me, lips slightly parted and eyebrows tilted. “Are you sure?”

I nodded. “Y-yeah.”

His hand found the bare skin of my torso again. I sighed and leaned into the touch, eyelids fluttering.

I craned my neck to look up at him, only to find him still staring at me.

Breath still coming in thrilled little gasps, I bit my lower lip lightly between my teeth.

His unnaturally vibrant teal eyes were nearly swallowed by the size of his pupils. Under my head, his chest moved with heavy breathing. He swallowed and kept staring at me. “Kiss me,” he breathed.

Everything had been driven out of my head. Anxieties, worries—all gone. Chased away by his touch on my skin.

I straightened up until we were level enough for me to kiss him, but hesitated before doing so.

“Please,” he whispered, the word cracking with desperation.

I reached around his head, sliding my fingers over his short, dark reddish-brown hair, and drew him closer to me.

The kiss was short. A gentle test.

I pulled away, eyes fluttering open to stare at him.

He stared at me too. We just looked into each other’s eyes for several long, breathless seconds.

Before Blake was grabbing at my shoulders and pulling me back in while I balled his tank top straps up into my fists to yank him closer. His tongue plunged into my mouth and I sucked on it.

His hands ran roughly down my back, one of them skirting over my backside to hook around my thigh farthest away from him. He pulled.

I figured out what he meant and shifted my position until I could swing my leg up and straddle his lap. He sighed out his nose, both of his hands holding the small of my back and digging slightly into the skin on either side of my spine.

I took a turn dipping my tongue into his mouth while my hand slid up his neck and over his short hair, scratching my nails into his scalp. He moaned quietly and held me closer.

My head was spinning but thoughts and worries weren’t among the chaos. All I was aware of was sensations. His warm hands. His soft mouth. His arousal forming in his lap.

I moved to pull myself back just enough to be respectful and not embarrass him, but he chased my retreating hips with his own, rocking up into me with a groan that was almost a whine. His hands slid from my back to my hips and pulled me down against him. “Don’t go,” he whispered, lips sloppy against mine.

I tilted my head for a better angle and pushed my tongue into his mouth. He sucked on it. “I’m not.”

His hands on my hips hooked his fingers over the waistband of my shorts. “Can I take these off?”

“If I can take yours off.”

“Please,” he begged. My breath shuddered in and out of my lungs as I found his belt and undid it. He sighed in relief as I popped the button on his waistband and pulled his shorts. We both adjusted our positions so the other could remove clothing. Our shirts quickly followed our shorts.

We were both breathing hard, sweat, saliva, and condensation gathering on our skin.

“Is this okay?” Blake asked.

“Yes. Please, Blake. Please don’t stop.”

His hands chased after sensitive spots all over my body, making me moan.

“Bedroom?” He glanced toward the door to his room.

I nodded frantically.

He hooked his hands under my thighs and stood, carrying me into his room and kicking the door shut behind us. We spilled onto the bed.

“C’mere, beautiful,” Blake breathed, drawing me closer into the heat of his bare skin.

—

Alternative Situation #3 (Different Opening)

With a deep breath, I returned to consciousness. My neck was aching a little bit and there was something thumping under my ear. Peeling my eyes open, I saw dark teal blackout curtains with weak morning sunlight trying to peer around them. I recognized them. Blake’s room. The clouds that matched the curtains on the duvet cover was draped over me.

Blake’s bed. I’d never slept in his bed before. The occasional nap on top of the covers, sure. But not in the bed.

I sighed slowly and blinked lethargically.

It wasn’t just my neck aching. My whole body was sore. I grimaced at the feeling of it. The flinch made me realize that I was entirely naked.

The fatigue vanished in a puff of smoke. Clarity came back.

I was lying on Blake’s bare chest. The thumping I heard was his heartbeat under my ear. His arm was around me, under my neck, holding me against his side. He was warm. A light sheen of sweat clung to both of us, sticking our skin together.

A tidal wave of memories crashed into me as I realized how I got here.

#Redacted ASMR #fic #??? i guess #Redacted Audio #Redacted Blake #Redacted Bestie #Starlit Fic #i guess. idk if this counts

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omensgate · 1 year ago

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fav campaign and why

oh god im no good at having feelings or opinions so ill just go down a list rattling off my experiences with the campaigns

for the record from the start ive been cheating, ive Never played this game blind. id consumed a lot of rain world playthrough medias before playing it (im not good at playing games in the sense that i simply do not experience them- im a speedrunner at heart... or not competitive or intelligent, im just walking fast paced from start to end...) and when i did play i always had a map and the wiki open which i think diminishes some of the feeling. but i still had fun moving from place to place

SURVIVOR: its classic. its sweet. its fun. i played about halfway through myself, but the second half i completed with my "Boyfriend" so i remember it as being very entertaining as we both fumbled around and learned together. it serves its purpose well and i think anything i enjoy about rain world can be seen in the survivor campaign at least to start off with... 10/10 nothing special but no loss by playing it yknow. ive also done an outer expanse + baby run (ftr if you want baby fast before going to outer expanse, live in industrial for a while. cannot compete with that pup spawn rate + you can easily make the rounds to check like 5 shelters a cycle before its anywhere near over) which yes -_- did make me cry.

MONK: i.. dont like playing monk. friendliness from other creatures does not mean much to me when actively hostile creatures are near impossible to kill because my spear can travel one (1) slugcats worth in distance so i would not play this with my fairly aggressive play style... i only played it for the short time itd take to get to outer expanse and. again. yes. i cried -_- i think its very sweet, and i am like. (clinically) psychotically attached to monk where its very important to my heart BUT Its not fun as a game experience to me

HUNTER: i tried to jolly co op cheat and play as arti to finish this as i find arti the easiest to play as but i kept crashing which is. you know. very bad for the single campaign where you want to be losing the least so ive never made much progress with this one and i genuinely dont want to open hunter back up because of the crashing. i THINK This was because i was playing w the sunhat mod because ive never experienced that magnitude of crashing constantly and uninstalled it after and have not experienced that again until... well youll read later

GOURMAND: i played this one from the start with my "Boyfriend" and so again it was fun from that, ESPECIALLY because he played as artificer and so was essentially my chariot throughout the campaign... easy way to beat gourmands exhaustion: make your partner carry you. shrimple. its SO fun to beat the shit out of creatures and i do like being forced to just take a moment and walk around slowly, i havent found his exhaustion toooo terrible if youre just patient except when youre fighting creatures that have health enough that you cant kill them in one hit. but being able to just slam something to death is SO satisfying, i enjoyed it. HOWEVER, ive never actually gotten to the END (Due to "Boyfriend" availability, we've stopped just outside the outer expanse gate). and of course, yes, every single fucking time i watch someone go into outer expanse i CRY LIKE A BABY. the first i think DOZEN times i watched people go through outer expanse, id start WAILING whenever i just saw slugcat npcs, it tugs and tears at my heart strings so badly. youre not alone. youve spent a campaign or two trudging through a wasteland empty of kind relatable figures but youre HOME now, just as you left it, and everyones so happy to see you back. im crying now . (do i just cry a lot? Maybe. im at an emotional point in my life... be nice.) 12/10 above survivor def, and gourmands my most favorite to play as in expedition- cant argue with that combat system + exhaustion isnt too bad for me + i love the variety of the world, its not impossibly difficult while not being easy.

ARTIFICER: ive never finished revenge route, ill be going to a different save file to try and it now, instead ive finished the ascension route. i know arti can be... extremely frustrating to play because its hitting a wall again and again and again but i really didnt have too much trouble approaching it knowing i had to be prepared to die + using my map a lot ("WTF this game is so unfair i cant see enemies about to shoot me!" Use Your Map. use your map and slug senses) + of course... ample map skills so im not ambling and getting like im getting lost and dying for nothing. though i will say, i did nearly give up at exactly the end- i think its the camera scroll mod but subterranean made the game near unplayable. like 0.5 frames per second, computer screaming, crashing i think a half dozen times again in an area where i NEEDED the karma to the point where i had to passage in place so i could ascend, and then crashing i think thrice while i was in the depths, including not allowing me to see the end cutscene... specifically that huge room with the big pit would grind the game to a halt i think because its so large and all the enemy AI, and all the spiders and centipedes are a nightmare and i just... hated it. every other leg of the game was fine, rewarding, heart touching but dear fucking lord, subterranean isnt more difficult or intriguing its just "the games not going to play smoothly at all and heres 5000000 ridiculously enemies". i WANT to love it, you know i love arti, but its just impossible to play if you want to ascend. and of course revenge route is crazy short which feels bad. removed from my experiences though, i think its beautiful with the one caveat that revenge route is TOO short. ive watched way too many people who were interested in the lore never get to even the third dream because theres just not enough shelters if you run straight to metropolis, which makes me sad. but the story generally is beautiful and i love it (and i could talk about it later, some of the things people say about arti makes me.. insane. either that shes totally righteous in her actions, or that her pups deaths are her fault)

SPEARMASTER: playing this one while cheating both using the map to plan exactly the route you need and to go through precipice as arti for the double jump + to swallow the pearl made it an absolute dream. yes the world is very scary but you can avoid a lot of the worst parts by simply not being there <3 one part: i did forget to change back to spearmaster before going to moon and she did crash my game so . remember to do that. very good campaign both for me to have played without doing anything as intended (never touched a broadcast), combat is fun, but also a very good story. i really like five pebbles and... i cannot get into the degree of five pebbles apologist i am i genuinely cant detail this without going off the rails. regardless; much 2 think about.

RIVULET: never played this one + not playing this one very scary looks bad dont want it. no rot no underwater sections no thank you. wont touch it. wont look at it. thank you

SAINT: hesitant to play this one due to the adventure aspect though i already got all echoes with arti so it cant be that bad- of course the story aspect of it all cannot be understated and it fully shattered my world view when i got into it. rain worlds live and die messaging has really helped me through suicidal and delusional periods and im very glad for what can be gleaned from saints story so i do like it a lot. as ive said before its also so amazing how a game with little to no tutorial text or cutscenes can have numerous jaw drop moments (with max karma reveal and descent into rubicon)

SOFANTHIEL: funny haha! (Jumps around

#ask #and you dont need to know why i keep referring to 'boyfriend'. thats for me to know ok ? <3

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elfdragon12 · 10 months ago

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TBH I was surprised when people kept saying that the skybound comic is really violent when IDW has a lot more gore and deaths, I don't even really read the IDW comics but from the panels and pages I sometimes see on Twitter and Tumblr its way more brutal in there especially in MTMTE and most body horror fanarts are from idw1 fans.

The only explanation I can think of why people see it as more violent is because DWJ's art has a somewhat messy style (where as most of the artist from idw have a more sleek and clean artstyle) and the bombastic fight choreography, to which no offense to the IDW artist cause I really love their art but comparing the fight scene between the two comics and its just obvious DWJ just have more experience in drawing and writing fight scenes.

Honestly and truly! There is so much body horror in IDW1! MTMTE has Ratchet as a head and spine! A Duobot is stuck halfway in a wall and *is still alive*! There are multiple scenes where a character's brain is exiting their body *through their mouth*! Getaway collecting spines/memory cores! Actual fan favorite character Chromedome frequently lobotomizes living people!

And, of course, we have Last Stand of the Wreckers that I read once and will never read again. Not because I think it's bad, but because it's so violent and mean-spirited that I do not feel well after reading it--not in a tummy way, but "my heart feels heavy" way.

Also the Kup spotlight that's a zombie story. Did not enjoy it as I was expecting a story that highlighted something important about Kup rather than a zombie survival story that happened to feature Kup.

That's just off the top of my head. IDW1 is rife with violence and gore and will not hesitate to show every second.

DWJ does such a good job with fight choreography! The fight scenes are so enjoyable and clear! The fact he's obviously a pro-wrestling fan and has clearly practiced drawing the moves really elevates the scenes! DWJ has also been more "artsy" and dramatic about the violence, note every time we see Starscream kill a human. It's the impact more than anything else.

I do see that as a pretty good explanation for why people *feel* like Skybound has been more violent when it really hasn't been. Like, we've finished issue 4 and the known death toll is still in the single digits.

Another is that IDW1 is in the rear view, so people are remembering what they liked from it, rather than remembering what it really was. IDW1 has been put on a pedestal, despite being just as flawed as every other continuity out there. (Prime example: the Lost Light's double ending that ruins every thinkpiece about Megatron's "redemption" because it turns out there's another version of him escaping all the consequences because JRo wants to have his cake and eat it too.)

The TFEU is not the most violent entry to the franchise nor is anywhere close to the top three. It's just new with a different art style with the key creator being very good at drawing dynamic and exciting fight scenes. (A new artist is joining the Transformers team. Don't know much about him, but I hope he keeps up the good work!)

#ask #anonymous #transformers #Energon Universe

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littlepadika · 4 years ago

Text

Calling Home (1) | Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You are a receptionist at the VA. Frankie Morales keeps calling. Yearning ensues...

Rating: M -> E in later chapters

Warnings: fem!reader, age gap (legal), praise kink, voice kink, discussion of addiction/PTSD/trauma, no use of y/n, no beta reader, reader is bad at Spanish, Frankie has a sexy voice 😩

Masterlist here

AN: My first fic. Pedro writers have inspired me to finally start writing again 🥺. Concept inspired by the movie RED. I hope you like it ❤️Set after triple frontier.

Chapter One

~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time he called was an ordinary Thursday.

“Veterans Affairs, how can I help you?”

You had been working at the VA office for about two weeks. Fresh out of college you felt lucky to have a job in the first place. You went to school to be a writer but your big idea for 'The Next Great American Novel' had yet to present itself. At least here you had access to the most inspiring stories and interesting people. Men and women who had seen more and done more than you probably would in your entire life. You loved talking to clients on the phone. It was weird but something about only being able to hear people’s voices excited you. You would sometimes write little stories in your head about the people you'd talk to, filling in the details that were unknown.

Your desk accessories reflected your love of books and writing. You had your growing collection of books sitting on your desk sandwiched between baby pink bookends. Next to them was a matching desk organizer filled with your favorite sparkly pens and sticky notes. You had decorated the plain cubicle walls with posters of quotes from your favorite books. You also brought your favorite candle from home. Even though you couldn’t light it you still liked to lift it to your nose once and a while and smell it between chapters. When you weren’t on the phone or scanning documents you would read. You finished To Kill A Mockingbird in your first week on the job and were now halfway through Murder on the Orient Express.

You were starting a new chapter when Frankie Morales called the first time.

You picked up the phone on the second ring already mustering your chipper 'customer service' voice. “Veterans affairs.” You stated your name. “How may I help you?”

“H-Hi. My name is Frankie- uh-Francisco Morales." A deep voice answered you. "I’m calling because I have gotten my benefits check yet. It’s been a month. I was hoping you could tell me if it got sent?”

“Okay Mr. Morales." You flipped on the computer. "Let me check. Can you spell your last name for me?”

“M-o-r-a-l-e-s”

“Okay... let's see.” You clicked on his account. You were momentarily distracted by his picture likely taken when he graduated basic if you had to guess based off the uniform. He looked sweet. Sharp nose and strong jaw balanced by kind eyes and a shy smile. You could imagine how age would continue to soften his expression making him even more handsome. The image was a strange juxtaposition to the voice you were hearing on the phone which was much deeper and rougher. His profile said he was special forces. A pilot. The rest of the information was blacked out. Something you were used to seeing on many people's accounts but even his years of service were redacted. He must have been involved in some dangerous stuff, you thought to yourself. The dates that were not redacted were mostly in Latin America. You clicked over to processing requests. “Looks like the check got sent one week ago.” You informed him.

"I'll look again but I haven't seen anything-" It sounded like he was apologizing when clearly it was not his fault.

"No no. It's probably a mistake on our end." You interrupted. With how shitty and outdated the payroll interface was you wouldn't be surprised if there was a mix up. "I’ll go ahead and let payroll know to send another."

"Great. Thanks." He replied sounding relieved. The roughness in his voice gave way to a smooth baritone.

“No problem. I'm sorry for any inconvenience it may have caused. We'll get it sent right away." You hoped he was not relying on this benefit check for anything important. While you could promise you'd fix the problem, the administration was notoriously slow. When he didn't respond you asked, "Is there anything else I can help you with today, Mr. Morales?”

“Uh-no" The roughness back in place. "Thank you." He paused before adding your name onto his thank you which made you smile. People usually never remembered your name.

“Alright. Have a nice day and thank you for your service.” You chirped before hanging up. The smile he put on your face lingered for a few minutes as you returned to your book.

The next time he called was exactly twelve days later.

“Veterans affairs” you answered, your routine greeting cut short as your eyes were still on your book.

“Hi- I’m calling because uh I still haven’t gotten my benefits check. This is Frankie Morales.”

“Oh Mr. Morales.” You recognized his voice even before he even said his name. You quickly shut your book, pushing your hair out of your face. Had you been thinking about him? No! Okay maybe you stared at his picture for a few minutes longer after he hung up. Yes, it was probably very unprofessional but you couldn't fight the curiosity. You were trying to rationalize the contrasting sharpness and softness of his features with his voice. How it all worked together. How one person's voice could change textures and colors so easily. You wondered what kind of things this man might have seen on the job. Most of the veterans you would help day to day did not have so many redacted missions and deployments. You were in the middle of Narcos season one so you immediately thought of drugs or something equally dangerous. After much pondering, you had come to the conclusion that Frankie Morales was both insanely attractive and insanely courageous. “Still no check, huh?”

“Nope.” He sighed the sound making the phone's shitty speaker crackle as you held it to your ear.

“Let me just check that it was approved...“ you found his profile again and scrolled to the status page. “Hmm... it says it was sent out last Friday after we spoke. That’s so weird...”

“Yeah. Really weird.” He echoed your frustration on the other end.

Typical payroll, you thought to yourself as you rolled your eyes. “I'll get another one sent to you right away. I'll see to it myself.” You tucked the phone under your chin and typed out a short email to Mary in payroll letting her know you'd be stopping by her office to explain the situation. You realized he hadn't hung up yet.

“Sorry for the back and forth.” You said, trying to fill the silence.

“It’s not your fault." The earlier irritation gone. "You’ve been really helpful.” His voice sounded warm and reassuring. Less gruff than it was last you spoke. Instead it was that rich baritone that you caught of glimpse of last time.

You feel your face warm at his compliment. It was this annoying reflex you had. Praise always made you blush no matter what context but it was worse when it came from a (you assume) gorgeous stranger.

“And just to verify that your address is correct- you’re on Maple Lane in Miami, Florida?”

“That’s right.” He confirmed.

“Okay. Sent!” You clicked send on the email, which caused the window to close and reveal Frankie’s profile page again. “I was curious-" You spoke before you really made the decision to speak. You didn’t want to overstep but once again your curiosity got the better of you. Honestly, you were just searching for a way to keep him on the phone. The day had been so boring.

“Your profile says you were stationed in Costa Rica.”

“For a bit.” He replied after a moment. He didn’t sound too defensive but there was definitely some tightness in his answer that made you feel bad for asking. Like you were scratching a wound.

“Did you like it? The country I mean.”

“Are you planning a trip?” He sounds a little amused.

“Yeah- well- kind of. It's more a trip in my head right now. I’d like to go there one day. It looks so beautiful.” You sighed closing your eyes trying to imagine the heat on your skin.

“It is." He agrees. "Really humid though.”

“Mm that sounds nice.” You would kill for some warm weather after such a long winter in DC.

“It was too muggy for me at times." He grumbled. "If you do go, stick to the costal areas where it’s more breezy or else you’ll just be sweating the whole time.”

“I don’t mind a little sweat” you shrugged, still thinking of the awful east coast winter you were currently suffering through. The sexual connotation of what you said hit you hard as soon as you heard the statement in its entirety. You felt your face flush again, though the man on the other end would never know.

“I’m learning Spanish!" You announced loudly trying to move the conversation past your awkwardness.

“Wow. Muy impressivo.”

“Si” you replied but after a moment you admit “I don’t really know what you said.”

Frankie laughed loudly on the other end and you couldn’t help but join in, drawing dirty looks from the elderly lady, Donna, working in the cubicle across from you. You ducked your head behind a stack of papers to avoid her glare.

“Fake it till you make it.” He chuckled.

“Maybe you should help me out.” You took on an indigent but still playful tone. “You sound better than duolingo” Your smile widened when he laughed again. His laugh was what you hoped it would be, by all your assumptions from his picture. It was an unencumbered, unburdened, rich sound with only a hit of roughness from the air behind it.

“Tell me you’re not using that dumb app to learn.” he scoffed, saying your name in an almost scolding tone.

“I’m got my thirty day streak today.” You boasted.

“You’ll be a total tourist if you go by duolingo.”

“But the owl is so cute every time I get something right!” You argued your voice taking on a more childish cadence.

“That’s how they trap you, silly girl.” He teased right back. Usually such a condescending nickname would piss you off but something about the affection behind him using it made you feel very differently. You felt warm like you were proud to be silly as long as it made him laugh.

“Then you saved me just in time, Mr. Morales.” You bit your lip. His scoffing and laughter died down on the other end.

“Frankie” He corrects you.

“Frankie…” You repeated it, smiling at how well the nick name suited the voice over the phone. Honest, sincere, and not pretentious at all. Way better than the pompous guys you know with equally stuffy names like “Edward” and “Christopher.”

“So what do you want to know?” Frankie interrupted your thoughts. “Dime”

You started asking him questions in Spanish to the best of your ability. Granted they weren't particularly probing questions. What is your name? What is your favorite color? What is your favorite animal? What's your favorite book? I am reading Gone Girl. He answered them all with patience and amusement, occasionally interrupting you to correct your pronunciation or explain what a word meant. Every time you’d repeat the word back correctly he would say something like “good” or “there you go” or “you got it”. You hated to admit that his kind words and his praise was doing something to you. You didn't even realize you were clenching your legs together unconsciously, almost in anticipation of his next correction or next answer. His low voice so sweet and encouraging against your ear, more tangible when he was speaking Spanish. You just wanted to hear more of it. Would it be this sweet in other situations? Would it get huskier or rougher? If you closed your eyes it was like he was sitting right next to you. It would be all too easy to slip into that daydream and escape the dull office.

Suddenly out of the corner of your drooping eyes you saw a flashing red light on the phone console meaning another caller was waiting.

“Shoot- i’m sorry, Frankie- I have to take this call.” You shot forward in your chair, legs uncrossing.

“Of-Of course. I should let you get back to work.” He sounded a little sad or so you hoped. You felt bad for interrupting him after you both were having so much fun. You wanted to say he could wait on hold but he killed that idea when he said, "I have work too. Technically I'm five minutes past my lunch break."

Your pout turned to a smile. He was spending his precious lunch break with you? Get a grip! you snapped at yourself.

“You’re welcome to call again if you want.” You threw out the offer in a small voice, scared you would be rejected. You peered over the cubicle wall to see if you were still being glared at. Thankfully Donna was away from her desk. Probably out for a smoke. “It’s really boring here and usually no one calls.”

“Maybe I will.” He replied and you could hear the smile behind those words. You felt your heart clench weirdly in your chest like it didn't know how to process the sudden spike in emotions.

“Bye, Frankie.” You beamed.

“Bye”

This time the smile on your face lasted for hours. Frankie’s laugh echoed around in your head, taunting you, sending your mind to the gutter. His voice went from grit to molasses on a dime. You wanted to be the one to bring out those sounds. You wanted to hear his voice bend and stretch and strain as you fucked him. What the hell is wrong with me? you screamed internally. You had never been so depraved and with a stranger no less! You clearly needed to get laid fast because this much yearning would not end well.

Frankie got the second VA check a few days later and this time he didn’t even feel bad about ripping it in half. He was already reaching for the phone to call you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags: Message to be added 💕 no minors please!

#frankie morales #francisco morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal x reader #frankie morales x you #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #frankie morales x y/n #catfish morales #calling home series #i would die for frankie #frankie morales has a sexy voice #daddy!frankie

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rainydaydream-gal18 · 3 years ago

Text

(TFATWS) Bucky x Reader: Protective- Part 1

(Author’s Note: I watched TFATWS and loved it. So here we are).

The tension had finally fizzled out an hour or so into the trip- at least for a little while.

Your consulting criminal, Zemo, made himself comfortable as soon as he set foot on the jet. He was leaning back in his seat across from you, looking very pleased as he read a book and took an occasional sip from his champagne glass. His contented demeanor had visibly affected both of your friends, Sam and Bucky, causing their irritation with him to skyrocket earlier. But after some of the confrontations concerning Bucky’s inherited notebook from Steve, Sam’s music, and Zemo’s observations of you, things had finally calmed down.

He was a crafty one. He knew how to push buttons, knew exactly what to say to trigger each individual’s weak points. Things had begun to escalate especially when Zemo turned his attention to you. His piercing gaze had you frozen in place as he made inquiries. While he didn’t ask anything outwardly uncomfortable, the probing questions about your life were starting to make you uneasy.

The other two males didn’t take too kindly to Zemo’s attempts at conversation with you. Bucky stared out the window with his jaw clenched. At one point, Sam let out an exasperated sigh, causing the criminal to halt mid-sentence. He leaned over to raise his brow at you diagonally across the aisle of the jet. “_________, is he bothering you?”

You didn’t have to speak: the look on your face said it all, and Sam shifted in his seat again to look over at Zemo. “Alright, that’s enough.” His tone was firm and leaving no room to question.

Directly across the aisle from you to your right, Bucky’s shoulders relaxed when Zemo followed Sam’s command. The jet had fallen silent except for the muffled whirring sounds of its mechanics.

You pretended to skim through a magazine that you’d found laying on a tray. With one hour down and twelve more to go on the flight, you felt the need to unwind a bit. Everything had happened so fast from the moment you agreed to go with your friends to Berlin to see Zemo. After Thanos’ horrible plan came to an end, things heated up when John Walker went public as “the new Captain America.” He’d even offered you a place working with him since you were part of Team Cap back in the day. You declined, of course, and found yourself even more determined to help Sam and Bucky.

You were happy for Steve. You were. It was still hard to have him gone. For years, ever since the Avengers broke apart over the Sokovia Accords and Bucky’s framing, you’d followed Steve. Even before then, when it was discovered that Hydra had been infiltrating SHIELD, you’d left the broken agency to join him as he continued his fight against threats to the world

You hadn’t imagined that you and the others would be left to keep fighting without him.

“You in the market for a new grill?”

You were drawn from your deep thought to a set of dark blue eyes that looked from you to the magazine page that you hadn’t turned in at least ten minutes. You chuckled and closed the magazine, playing along. “Yes, I figured with all this extra time, I’d do a little shopping.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitched up in a brief show of amusement. You rose from the seat to go to his side, kneeling down beside his chair.

“Why does he even have this?” You lowered your voice as you glanced at the eccentric baron, setting the magazine back down onto the tray. “You’d think there would be more European fashion magazines or something.”

Bucky’s eyes flickered to the man in question before leaning in to speak in an equally quiet tone. “I have to admit. We lucked out with him. Not only does he have a lead, but he’s got private transportation so we can stay under the radar.”

“I think we made the the right choice going to him,” you replied.

“We can only hope,” he muttered. “Seriously though, what were you thinking about when you zoned out?”

“Oh.” You averted your gaze, playing with the hem of your jacket. You didn’t want to delve into your train of thought. It was plain as day that Bucky and Sam were both dealing with Steve’s departure in their own ways, and you didn’t want to add to it or open up any healing wounds. So, you settled on being vague. “Just...everything.”

He seemed to know what you meant anyway. The silence that followed made guilt gnaw in your chest, but before you could say anything, Bucky spoke.

“Hey,” he nudged you with his shoulder, making you meet his gaze again. His eyes had softened significantly and forehead smoothed in absence of the lines caused by furrowed brows. It was a nice change from the scowl he had since the mission started. “Sorry we dragged you into this.”

You dismissed the apology with a casual wave of your hand. “You guys didn’t drag me into anything. I was along for the ride from the beginning.”

A comfortable silence fell between you then. He returned to gazing out the window while you stood up and headed back to your seat, sinking into it and letting your head tip forward. You figured that a cat nap was in order since you hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. All that business with an internationally-known criminal breaking out of prison had you on edge. With nothing but the sounds of occasional page-turning from Zemo’s book and Sam tapping his foot lightly to the beat of music he listened to on his phone with earbuds, sweet sleep claimed you in no time.

You were pulled from your dreamless slumber by voices, but your body wasn’t ready to respond just yet. The first thing you noticed was that you were leaning against something on your right side, your face resting on a soft material that held the scent of leather and cologne. Bucky’s scent. It must’ve been his jacket balled up to serve as a pillow. In fact, it was his voice rumbling closest to you.

“Stop looking at her like that.”

“Apologies, James, but I don’t know what you mean.” Zemo’s accented voice was quieter, but there was a sprinkle of amusement in his tone.

“You’re doing it right now.”

“Bucky, come on,” Sam interjected. “We managed to make it a few hours without killing the guy. Don’t let him get to you now.”

Zemo’s tone took on a new intensity, as if he was gripped by fascination. “You seem very protective of __________. The way you move around her is intriguing, as if prepared to defend her at a moment’s notice.”

“Don’t engage,” Sam warned in a low voice.

By now, you were almost fully awake. Despite the potentially awkward situation that Zemo was creating with the analysis of your friend, you figured it would be best to intervene. You shifted, blinking your eyes open.

“What’s going on?” you muttered, voice still a little rough from sleep. “It better be good because I haven’t slept that well in a while.” You lifted your head from Bucky’s jacket, eyes darting up to see him staring out the window again. “Sorry,” you muttered, brushing a bit of drool from his jacket before handing it back to him. He stole a glance in your direction again, not seeming to mind.

“No big deal. You needed the sleep.”

Bucky didn’t say another word, so you turned to Sam for answers. He shrugged with the shake of his head. “Zemo’s being... well, Zemo.”

You nodded in understanding, as if that simple phrase was all the explanation you needed. Zemo caught your gaze, the corners of his lips turning up a smile.

“As I mentioned before, we will have to go undercover to meet with Selby in Madripoor. I was merely thinking of disguises for you and Sam.”

He seemed like was telling the truth, but you didn’t doubt that he relished the added bonus of getting under Bucky’s skin in the process. While Bucky had been protective of you and those who chose to put themselves on the line to prove his innocence when it came to the UN bombing, you hadn’t expected him to be quite that defensive in this situation. As flattering as it was in some ways, it made you worry. Zemo knew what buttons to push. Would he eventually push a button to make things go his way? To forward some plan of his?

You got up to stretch and use the refresher. You took your time since there were still several hours left in the flight. Zemo had informed the group that upon landing, there would be limited window to get into costume and go over your characters before heading to Selby’s club.

- - - - - - -

“Only an American would assume that a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp,” Zemo complained. You stole a glance at your friend who gave his outfit another displeased look. “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.” He handed his phone over so Sam could get a look at his character’s picture.

“He even has a bad nickname. He does look like me, though.”

“And who am I supposed to be?” you asked, pulling the jacket over your form tighter. You wore a dark blue dress that went to your knees. The material was soft and had a subtle glimmer in the light, and the outfit was complete with a pair of black heels that clacked on the pavement with each step, a shiny silver bracelet, and the black jacket that you were glad to have in the chilly air. The group was walking to the halfway point of the bridge to be picked up.

“You will be my date,” Zemo replied casually.

You gave him an incredulous look. “Really? I’m just the date?”

He released a sigh before launching into explanation. “You don’t exactly resemble any crime bosses. Besides, it’s not uncommon for dates to come and go in this town. No one will be asking who you are. No one will expect what’s coming to them if we need to fight. You may have the greatest advantage out of all of us.”

As much as you hated to admit it, he had a point.

“Just remember to remain at my side at all times,” Zemo continued. “Make it look convincing that we are together.”

You refused to meet his amused look. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

A black car idled just ahead, and Zemo once more reiterated how important it was to stay in character. He told the group about High Town and Low Town, though you were a little distracted by the city lights reflecting off the water.

You squeezed into the backseat between Bucky and Sam. The ride was tense with only the sound of your breaths in the small space. Bucky stared straight ahead through the windshield even as motorcycles surrounded the car and escorted it the rest of the way. The car dropped you all off near the club, and Zemo held out his hand to help you out of the vehicle. He put an arm around your waist at a respectful level, but Bucky took one look and halted.

“Okay, this isn’t going to work,” Bucky snapped. Everyone’s eyes were on him.

Sincerity was written all over Zemo’s features as he responded. “I assure you, it will.” Suddenly, his eyes flickered with realization, though you glanced between the two men in confusion. “I know you don’t trust me, James, and I understand your discomfort. However, you are playing the part of the Winter Soldier. It is best if she remains inconspicuous as my date.”

“Wait, that’s what this is about?” Sam asked in disbelief. “Who ________ pretends to date?” Your eyes fell to the pavement. The situation was already unpleasant. The last thing you wanted was to bring confusing feelings into the mix while in the middle of an important mission.

Bucky began to protest. “No, I-”

“Relax,” Sam said, holding up his hands to show he meant no offense. “________, you can stay by me. Smiling Tiger can have a date, right?” He looked to Zemo for confirmation.

“Excellent idea.” He nodded in approval. “Just remember to stay in character. All of you.”

(Link to Part 2)

#the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #tfatws #tfatws bucky #tfatws bucky x reader #mcu bucky x reader #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes imagine #the falcon and the winter soldier reader insert #bucky fanfic #bucky

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teawaffles · 3 years ago

Text

Albert’s Drinking Contest: Chapter 3 / End

Note: Some language.

“G-Goddammit……”

“No way, how……?”

Roughly twenty minutes had passed.

And with their glasses in hand, Moran and Louis were both gasping in agony.

Once the match had resumed, the three participants had attacked their glasses, consuming drink after drink like a surging tide. Now that Louis had been saved the trouble of approaching the other two time and again to fill their glasses, the rate at which the wine now entered them had seen a remarkable jump.

Although Louis was not a strong drinker to begin with, his sheer determination to prevail had allowed him to keep pace with his veteran opponents: at this point, he’d already downed a comparable portion of wine.

However, even mental willpower had its limits. Back when he’d consumed his twentieth glass, the intoxication had hit Louis like a brick, and a wave of dizziness swamped him. From then on, Louis had placed his spectacles on the table, and repeatedly rubbed the inner corners of his eyes in a bid to chase away that sense of vertigo.

Now, Louis was attempting his thirtieth glass of wine since he’d entered the match. In other words, Moran and Albert had already drunk an astonishing 51 glasses.

Even as they moaned like spirits of the dead, both Louis and Moran tried to fill their glasses for the next round; but the hands that held those glasses kept trembling, and wine spilled onto the table many times over.

“——This is truly an excellent wine. With this flavour, I can enjoy myself twice as much.”

On the other hand, Albert was still in perfect shape.

Having long finished preparing his next glass, Albert looked at his two opponents, barely able to hold their own glasses, as if watching them from on high.

Despite having consumed an extraordinary quantity of alcohol, he was still unperturbed, and enjoying the taste of the wine. With unfocused eyes, Louis turned to look at his oldest brother.

“Ha, haha — as expected of you, nii-sama.”

In the face of this overwhelming presence, his own powerlessness seemed almost hilarious in comparison, and he chuckled as if he’d given up.

“This isn’t, the time to be, laughing, Louis……”

Moran thumped his back, in an effort to coax some life back into him. But that gesture was much too weak, and looked as though he was simply trying to soothe a badly drunk man.

Yet perhaps that move had worked, for then, Louis knocked back his entire glass. Following suit, both Moran and Albert drained their glasses too.

“Well then, we’ve finally reached the thirtieth glass.”

Watching the three of them, William announced the tally with dispassion. But at this point, it wasn’t clear if his voice had even reached Louis and Moran.

Having reached a nice round number, it seemed Louis was starting to loosen up. With the last ounces of his strength, he turned his head, and looked at Moran beside him.

“Mr Moran. My apologies, but it looks like, this is my end……”

“Wha…… Oi, hang in there, Louis!”

But his desperate plea went unanswered. The moment Louis uttered those final words, just like Fred, he slumped onto the table.

“L-Louis……”

Half-dazed, Moran mumbled the name of the fallen — and William swiftly appeared by his brother’s side.

“You’ll catch a cold if you fall asleep here, Louis.”

Gently, he tucked the blanket he’d prepared around Louis’s shoulders.

Albert looked on in concern.

“William, is Louis alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, it seems he’s just asleep for now.”

“…………”

The two brothers looked on at their youngest sibling, now keeled over; but even as Moran too fretted over his condition, a sense of admiration and gratitude towards the man had grown within him. Despite being drawn into the match, Louis had pressed on and fought alongside him to get this far. If Moran himself hadn’t been so sozzled, he would even have wanted to give the man a huge round of applause.

However, even those ardent emotions dwindled with time. For Moran was now back to square one — as the only player standing up to Albert — and that lonesome despair weighed heavily on his shoulders.

Here was an opponent so tough, that even someone who’d joined halfway had been no match for him.

That raw power sent a chill down Moran’s back. Desperately trying to hold his vision steady, he glared at Albert.

“……How the hell are you still alive?”

Through his hazy consciousness, Moran barely managed to utter that one phrase. Although it’d come from his own lips, to him, it sounded as if it’d been said by someone else far away.

Albert shifted his gaze from Louis to Moran.

“It’s not so surprising, is it? I just genuinely enjoy drinking wine, Colonel.”

“This is no longer in the realm of ‘enjoyment’, innit……”

Perhaps his inebriation had finally tipped over into delirium: at that moment, the sight of Albert lounging with a glass in hand looked almost like that of the devil.

And finally, that time had come.

“Oh, shit——”

In his final moments, with every last ounce of strength he had within him, Moran uttered that cheap curse.

And in an instant, as if someone had flipped a switch — he blacked out. Like a marionette whose strings had been cut, he collapsed onto the table in front of Albert, and began to snore loudly.

“Looks like…… it’s settled, then.”

Watching the sleeping figures of Fred, Louis, and now Moran, William announced the end of the match.

And thus, on this memorable night, the drinking contest had ended in complete victory for the preternaturally strong Albert.

“……Mm?”

Around thirty minutes after that, Fred — who’d been the first to drop out — opened his bleary eyes.

Blinking, he slowly sat up, and saw Moran and Louis fast asleep in a row beside him, with blankets wrapped around their shoulders. Why Louis too?, he thought; but seeing that sight before him, at the very least, he somehow understood that the match was over.

Perhaps it was inevitable, but it had ended in a crushing defeat for Moran, Louis and him.

“Good morning, Fred; though the sun hasn’t risen yet.”

Someone called out to him from the side — by reflex, Fred’s gaze snapped toward the voice, and he saw William smiling gently at him, seated in the same spot from earlier. Beside him was Albert.

“……How long has it been?”

Since he already knew how the match had turned out, for now, still a little groggy, Fred enquired as to how long he’d been unconscious.

“It’s been around thirty minutes since the end of the match. So that makes it around two hours since you passed out,” said William. “It’s past midnight now.”

That voice had a somewhat comforting note to it, as if he was worried for Fred, who’d just awakened from the depths of drunkenness.

Then Albert — who was still enjoying his wine — spoke up in concern.

“Still, the colonel has done this time and again without learning his lesson. Even though wine is a luxury to be savoured and enjoyed.”

“Although you’ve beaten him every time, it seems that argument has yet to persuade him otherwise.”

Looking at Albert, who seemed to be functioning perfectly despite everything, William shrugged in amazement.

Fred had no clue as to how exactly how much wine Albert had ended up drinking; but from the wryness of William’s smile, he could at least tell that it was an amount beyond an ordinary person’s imagination.

Once again, Fred reflected on how it’d been a mistake in itself to challenge this monster to a fight.

“Although Moran seems to have given it his all this time around, as I thought: he was no match for you, nii-san.”

As if narrating Fred’s thoughts, William looked back on the outcome of the battle. Then, Albert picked up a bottle that still contained some liquor.

“Won’t you join me for a bit, William? Just to enjoy the wine.”

Despite having consumed a copious amount of alcohol, Albert was still game for more. But William waved a hand in refusal.

“I won’t. Anyway, I already had my fill over dinner.”

“That’s a pity; now that it’s just the two of us, I’d wanted to discuss its flavour at length with you.”

Saying that, Albert tilted his glass, and gently brought it to his lips. That gesture looked almost as if it’d been calculated down to the millimetre — the atmosphere surrounding him truly befitted that of a British aristocrat.

“…………”

William, the pivotal intellect of their organisation, and Albert, who was speaking to him.

Gazing vacantly at the two men, a thought suddenly struck Fred.

——How did this man come to be what he was today?

Albert had been born and raised as a noble — in this stratified society, he was considered part of the upper class.

But despite the position bestowed upon him by his birth, he had not sunk into the degenerate practices of the nobility; instead, his heart ached for the twisted nature of their country, and he wished to overturn it from its very foundations.

And the catalyst for all that, had been the two brothers he’d picked up.

Rather than indulging in their social positions and means, the Moriarty brothers instead refined their intellect and abilities with unyielding force of will, thus turning themselves into the “Lord of Crime” — an existence working in the shadows of Britain’s underworld.

Fred looked at Louis, asleep to his side, and then at William and Albert, who were engaged in conversation.

It was almost as if they’d been destined to meet.

——Could I, too, get closer to them?

Despite not being related by blood, Albert saw William and Louis as his brothers — the bonds between them were strong. In that case, perhaps Fred’s relationship with them could become even closer than what it was now.

Secretly, that thought blossomed in Fred’s heart.

“Well then, it’s getting late, so we should call it a night. Seeing as they’re asleep, what should we do with Louis and the colonel?”

Paying no heed to Fred’s longing gaze, Albert drained the last of his wine, and calmly got to his feet. Remaining seated, William spoke.

“Since they’re so soundly asleep, I’d hate to rouse them; let’s leave them be a while longer.”

“I see. Then I shall remain as well.”

Listening in to their conversation, all of a sudden, Fred remembered the important agreement that’d been made at the start of the match.

Nervously, he asked after Albert.

“Um, since I’ve lost, I suppose the forfeit will fall on me too……?”

Simply owing to the fact that he’d participated in the drinking contest, as one of the defeated parties, Fred had resigned himself to accepting the loser’s penalty.

However, Albert smiled.

“Aah, no need to worry about that. As you know, this match is a personal matter between the colonel and myself; I’m sorry you got caught up in it.”

“N-no, you don’t have to apologise. Even though it was a rather sudden turn of events, it was still my own decision to participate.”

At that unexpected apology, Fred waved both hands weakly. But Albert kept up that elegant smile of his as he continued.

“You don’t have to concern yourself with the forfeit. Well, even if I were fine with him doing it, the colonel would just be a right bother; so I’d be grateful if you could just tidy up the glasses we’ve used tonight.”

“T-Thank you very much.”

Having expected a bigger penalty, Fred was grateful for Albert’s magnanimity. In his heart, he heaved a sigh of relief, and proceeded to clear the glasses.

As he did so, Albert turned to look at Louis, who was still fast asleep.

“And since Louis was also caught up in this, I’ll exempt him as well.”

Then his focus shifted to Moran, who was slumped beside Louis.

“……Instead, I suppose I’ll have to give the colonel a proper punishment.”

“…………”

Although his voice had been calm, a disquieting feeling lingered around those words. Hearing that, even the agile Fred had unwittingly stopped in his tracks.

In place of Fred, whose face had paled, William asked after Albert with a wry smile.

“Nii-san, exactly what kind of punishment will you be giving him?”

Albert’s tone remained calm as always.

“Let’s keep that a secret for now. But no matter what it’ll be, I’m sure all of you can look forward to it.”

Saying that, Albert smiled. It was elegant to a fault.

“…………”

As he took the empty glasses, Fred looked at the sleeping Moran.

He’d set up this contest of his own accord: he had it coming for him. And yet, as Fred thought about what lay in store tomorrow for the man he saw as an older brother, he couldn’t help but feel a little sorry.

Just like this, the night to commemorate the founding of MI6, had drawn to a close.

T/N: …Do I really want to know what Albert’s gonna make him do? (ohoho)

Translator’s notes

Drinking capacities

I thought I’d summarise their relative strengths at drinking :3 From weakest to strongest:

Fred (<20 glasses)

Louis (30)

Moran (52)

Albert (52, and then some)

Though William didn’t participate in the end (aww), I would think he’s on par with Louis, and maybe even a bit stronger too.

The illustration

The illustration shows Moran slumped on a tiny coffee table of sorts; but I’m wondering where Louis and Fred are, since they were described as being asleep on the table beside Moran... Perhaps this is an incongruity between the story and the illustration?

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #a study in scarlet #illustration insert

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chockfullofsecrets · 3 years ago

Text

Critical Role: The Importance of Timing, Ch 1

<<chapter navigation TBA>>

(Read on AO3)

Rating: Gen

Summary: Jester sobers quickly, though, pouting insistently down at them.“Four is pret-ty bad, you guys.”

Kingsley nods seriously. Thus validated, she starts bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. “I think we need to punish them, Fjord!”

Caleb and Essek make the mistake of overworking themselves right before the Mighty Nein are scheduled for a reunion. Lessons are learned.

Wordcount: 3.6k (yeah, this one’s going to take a while)

A/N: making some more progress on my backlog of prompts (this one happens to be both from the most recent vote and this lovely anon prompt)! cross your fingers that this is going to be my first finished chapter fic lol

---

Caleb hardly remembers it, later.

It was evening - not particularly late, but after three near-sleepless nights time stretched into its own kind of viscous liquidity. Like a soup.

He laughed to himself at the absurdity of it, too tired for more than the barest expense of breath. Essek would know better than he, of course - he turned to him, intending to share the thought, and found a sheaf of notes thrust mere inches from his face.

“Here,” Essek said brusquely. Exhaustion did not lend itself to the usual smoothness of his speech. “I think I have it, finally - if we engrave it this way, the spell will replenish itself without interrupting conversation, yes?”

“Oh.” He took the papers, looking them over blearily - his eyes widened, a brief rush of vigor returning. “Oh, this is - oh, this is good! Let me just fabricate the surface smooth again and we can try-”

There was a crash from a location beyond the lab and therefore currently unimportant. Neither of them looked up.

The interruption, then, arrived unexpectedly.

“Hel-loooo!”came a lilting Nicodranian accent from the hall. “We got here early and you didn’t answer your door so we used our super cool magic powers to come in, and we should to-tally make a hammock themed room in the mansion tonight because I think Fjord is kind of land sick - Caleb, look at me, why do you look so terrible?”

Caleb knew the consequences of ignoring that voice. He looked up.

After hours of gazing at runes, his eyes refused to fully adjust and take in the three figures in the doorway. He squinted and managed to make out a bit of blue. “Jester?”

“They look tired right out, the poor things,” a purple blob pronounced from Jester’s right. “We haven’t missed out on an adventure, have we?”

“No,” Jester said, “Essek would never go out with his hair looking like that. Right, Essek? Aren’t you, like, super embarrassed that your hair’s all floppy right now?”

Sitting shoulder to shoulder with the floppy-haired drow in question, Caleb could just barely hear him hiss in protest at the interruption. “Leave, then, if it disturbs you so.”

Caleb blinked, starting to fumble together a sentence to dull the reprimand, and suddenly the remaining green blob resolved into Fjord as he put a hand on Caleb’s forehead and crouched to look into his eyes. “All right, it’s bedtime for you two. Jes, can you get Essek?”

“Wait-” Caleb grabbed weakly for the table, for his notes at least, but he was already being swept up in Fjord’s arms and carried bodily from the room. Essek sounded much more awake - and irate, frankly - behind him, trying to explain something, but it had been far too long since he had been anywhere near horizontal - with his head pillowed against Fjord’s bicep, he was asleep before they reached the stairs.

---

Waking is a slow process.

He is not alone - there’s a weight to being tangled up in someone else, the warm scent of closeness, and even without his eidetic memory he does not think he can ever forget the stony, moon-soaked smell of having his face buried in the crook of Essek’s shoulder.

He yawns lazily. Essek must be very tired, if Caleb is awake and he is not, and he is the better cook of the two of them anyway - although of course neither of them have any comparison to Caduceus, or Yasha now that it’s been several months since her last poisoning incident. He presses a gentle kiss to Essek’s jaw and rolls out of bed to get started with breakfast.

Or tries to, at least. His top half makes it out of bed easily enough, but the rest of him does not seem inclined to follow.

Something clanks at the foot of the bed as he narrowly hauls himself up from a quick trip to the floor. He props himself up on an elbow, halfway through another yawn, and finds himself staring down a pair of manacles hooked around his ankles.

He kicks cautiously. The chain threaded through his bed posts clanks again.

Panic begins to stir low in his gut. “Essek!”

There’s a sleepy murmur next to him. He twists to find Essek blinking awake - there’s not much else he can do, with his arms shackled above his head and his legs chained below in similar fashion. The cuffs are padded at least, stuffed with what looks to be worn handkerchiefs, and they’re both fully dressed in sleep clothes - their captors don’t want to hurt them, then, not yet.

Caleb scans the room frantically. The book he has been reading is still propped open on the bedside table, the door knob Essek had pried from an Aeorian ruin after Caleb had commented on its sparkle still proudly adorns the bathroom door, Kingsley is still leaning against the window-

He grins smugly as Caleb’s gaze snaps back to him. “Oh, good, you’re both awake. Comfy watch, but it’s ever so much more boring without the-” He pulls his hands from his pockets and rocks them back and forth. “Oh, and also the fish folk trying to kill us, those are great.”

“Kingsley?” Caleb demands. Next to him, Essek makes a shocked sound as he presumably recognizes that he cannot move any of his limbs. “What is this?”

“Oh, I can’t rightly say.” Kingsley saunters over and swings himself neatly up onto the mattress, worming between him and Essek to sit cross-legged at the center of the bed. “Wasn’t my idea, at any rate-”

“Jester and Fjord were here too,” Essek interrupts. “Is this - this is a prank, is it not?”

“Hush, you,” Kingsley smirks. “All I’ve got is that I’m to ensure you don’t make your way free with any spellcasting before Fjord and Jester get back. And to that end…”

He breaks the pause with a dramatic flourish of his arms, spreading them wide before laying a palm down lightly on each of their bellies. “I’m told this should do just fine, if the two of you care to demonstrate?”

Caleb connects the dots just a moment too late to throw himself back off the edge of the bed. “Kingsley - wait - ah!”

There was a time when it would take minutes for his mind to link the intruding sensation of touch to anything but wariness. Now, the instant Kingsley’s fingers start scribbling he’s flat on his back, pushing weakly at the offending limb and doing his best not to collapse into hysterical snickering at how much it - it -

“Tickle, tickle, magic man,” Kingsley teases, pupilless eyes aflame with mischief. “No, no, don’t bother fighting it. I’ve heard tales about those ribs of yours, you know. Especially how much you love letting Jester play with them, hm?”

“N-nein, that’s not-” Caleb tries to protest, but he’s already giggling just at the thought - Fjord and Jester are here, and he’s stuck, and Kingsley won’t stop tickling him-

Kingsley’s grin grows another satisfied inch as he turns back to Essek. “And you, stubborn - oh, are you trying to cast something? Is that what that face means?”

Essek is struggling, jaw working and face scrunched as his entire body trembles in time with the claw vibrating its way into his belly. Caleb can practically see the Misty Step brewing on his tongue, just a few short words between him and freedom if only he can get them out without laughing.

Until Jester tracks him down, that is. He hasn’t - they’ve been apart, and then in Aeor, and then working on their big project for the past few weeks, and Caleb hasn’t exactly gotten around to admitting that he might like Essek to - admitting anything, really. Or telling Essek that now that Jester knows he’s ticklish and doesn’t entirely mind it, any attempt to escape will only end in more retribution.

An oversight, in retrospect.

Kingsley purrs, apparently entirely delighted with his victim’s predicament. “Oh, come on now, you can do it! It’s been a while since I’ve seen a good magic show.” Essek shakes his head frantically, lips pressed together even as his cheeks puff with repressed giggles, and Kingsley grins all the wider. “No? Let’s see how long you last when I really start pressing your buttons, then.”

On his side and snickering helplessly, Caleb cannot help but feel a little jealous as he watches Kingsley tug up Essek’s shirt and wait for his eyes to widen in terrible anticipation. “One last chance, then? Cause I think this is really going to tickle.”

Caleb wants him to succeed, really, he does - but watching Essek try as hard as he can to curl in on himself as a single fingertip starts to rub at his navel, squirming and squeezing his eyes shut and finally barking out the first two syllables of his incantation before the third succumbs to high, squeaking laughter holds its own considerable charm. “Ahahaaaa - nooo, hehe! - wh -” He laughs a little more, shoulders shaking, and barely manages to gasp out the words. “Fjord - Jester - where -”

“Couldn’t take it? Oh, you are a ticklish thing,” Kingsley tells him, laughing when Essek’s attempt at protesting collapses into a breathless snort. “You’re wondering where they are? Really, I couldn’t say. Maybe they’ll be gone for hours, and I’ll just have to keep tickling and tickling-”

He’s focused in on Essek now, taking his other hand off Caleb to wiggle it menacingly over a defenseless armpit - Essek takes one look at the new threat and screams. “Caleb!”

Kingsley’s replaced his hand with his tail squeezing around Caleb’s thigh, and it tickles so badly and unexpectedly that Caleb would like to curl up in a ball and do some screaming of his own, but with Essek pleading for his help there’s no other choice.

He pulls himself back onto his elbows and flops into Kingsley’s lap as best he can with his legs chained, reaching blindly for ticklish spots that used to belong to Mollymauk - gasping through a new wave of laughter as the spade of Kingsley’s tail starts to poke at the soft back of his knee, he crowds his fingernails against the small of Kingsley’s back and yelps in preemptive terror as Kingsley starts to laugh and reaches for him instead. “Fjord! Jester!” he shouts. “Help!”

“Gah - oh, fuck, thahat’s - haaaa-” Kingsley flails for a moment, legs kicking out as he tries to shimmy away, but in the next moment his fingers are tickling mercilessly under Caleb’s arms and Caleb can hardly breathe, let alone keep tickling him. He flails to escape, trying to wrap his arms around himself and use them to drag himself away at the same time, but really that just means that Kingsley’s hands are stuck in his armpits now and he’s going to die-

“Right, right, I’ve learned my lesson, no ganging up on our little star,” Kingsley grumbles. Caleb gasps in breathless relief as Kingsley works his hands free - he’s facedown on the mattress, but he hears Essek shout for Fjord and Jester too before dissolving into another fit of giggles. Presumably Kingsley’s putting his tail to good use somewhere.

A hand grabs his shoulder, and he’s rolled over onto his back with his legs untwisting beneath him. He blinks up into Kingsley’s gaze, eyebrows raised in apparent dudgeon. “You, on the other hand,” Kingsley growls, as if his lips weren’t curving up into a fanged smile already, “I am absolutely going to need both hands for what I’m about to do to your ribs.”

“Mist,” Caleb sputters reflexively, and then, louder, “Fjord! Jester! FJORD!”

Kingsley’s eyebrows rise even higher. “Oh, it’s sweet that you think they’re going to help you. Unless - oh, did you want more hands?”

Caleb hardly hears the approaching footsteps over his own anticipatory squeal as he watches Kingsley’s fingers start to wander back down towards his ribs. “Nein! - eheeheh, oh gods, nein-”

But then, suddenly, blessedly, the fingers ghost lightly over his ribs and settle for spidering across his tummy instead. He wheezes in relief - half of it comes out as giggles, his nerves still on high alert, but he fully intends to enjoy breathing while he can.

He flops tiredly back, eyes tracking to the doorway as Fjord and Jester stroll in. “Sorry for the wait,” Fjord says politely. “Jester and I were just finishing up lunch. Because it’s lunchtime.”

“No rush, Captain!” Kingsley practically chirps. “We’re having a wonderful time, aren’t we, boys?”

Fjord looks completely unsurprised to find the two of them in chains. Jester is practically bouncing beside him. Caleb imagines this does not bode well for them.

Essek pipes up from behind him, metal clanking as he tries to move to see around Kingsley. “Did - heh - did we oversleep? I think the shackles are a bit uncalled for-”

“Oh,” Fjord says, low and dangerous. He’s not smiling, not yet, but Caleb can see it in his eyes and that is even worse. “Don’t mind those. It would be a shame to let the two of you leave your bedroom so soon when you haven’t seen it in days and days, wouldn’t it?”

With Kingsley still tickling at his waist, Caleb can’t even begin to coax his stomach muscles to let him sit up as Fjord and Jester cross to the bed and loom over the both of them. Jester claps her hands together, looking dangerously pleased with herself. “Do you like them?” she enthuses. “We got them from a pirate raid, because someone put our other set on a fish person that jumped right back into the ocean.”

“They were getting rusted anyway - I don’t think we collected a single one of those at sea, they’re not even waterproofed.” Fjord grumbles amiably. “These, though-”

He hooks one finger delicately through the chain connecting Caleb’s ankles to the bedpost and tugs, dragging one helpless foot just close enough to scoop up in a waiting hand. “Now these are made for some real seafaring shit. Could hold a body for as long as you want, as long as they aren’t inclined to use any magic tricks.”

Caleb tries to yank his foot back. Fjord just chuckles and leans over to stare him down, his yellow eyes warm and amused. “Isn’t that right, Caleb.”

“No magic tricks,” he gasps out through another fit of giggles as Fjord rubs a warning thumb over his sole. It’s hardly a concession - between that and Kingsley, he hardly has the breath to try anything.

“Good,” Fjord says encouragingly. He puts Caleb’s foot gently down and turns to Essek. “Now you.”

Caleb turns to look at him - from what little of Essek’s body language he can read, he looks wholly confused. “You’re not going to let us go?”

Fjord crosses his arms. “Oh, I’m sure we can come to some kind of agreement. Just consider this a friendly reminder that Jester, Kingsley and I are quite capable of following any… magical exits.”

Essek visibly rallies at the mention of magic, quirking an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware you had learned how to Teleport.”

“Essek,” Caleb hisses. Fjord shushes him and stalks a single step forward, just close enough to start tickling lightly at the bottom of one purple foot.

Essek’s superior expression lasts all of a moment before his entire body starts flailing to escape the single point of contact. “Ah! No, nohoho, wahahait, I didn’t - ahaha, stop that!”

“You’re right, I can’t Teleport,” Fjord says conversationally. “Good catch, I’d kind of forgotten about that one. Jes, we’ve got some antimagic stuff on the ship, right?”

Jester interrupts herself from making increasingly dramatic faces at Essek to answer. “I think so? You know, just in case if we meet someone icky like you know who.”

“Perfect. Maybe you and Kingsley can keep Essek busy, and I’ll head back to the ship and root around for it?” He looks calmly down at Essek, kicking as frantically as he can with the few inches of leeway the shackles afford him and still completely unable to avoid Fjord’s fingers. “It’ll take a while, mind you.”

Jester perks up, dancing over and reaching for Essek’s other foot. “Yes! Kingsley, did you try his ears yet? They get all flappy and it’s really really-”

“No!” Essek rushes out, squeaking in harried protest when they still don’t stop tickling up his arches. “I - wait,” he pleads. “No! I won’t cast, I won’t!”

Fjord grins. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Alright, Kingsley, can we give them a moment?”

Kingsley removes his hands from both of them rather reluctantly. Fjord claps his shoulder in silent thanks. “Now, would either of you like to explain why we found the two of you half-dead from sleep deprivation?”

“Yeah, you guys, we were so worried!” Jester adds. “You can’t do that when we’re not around to take care of you! You guys haven’t been doing this all year, have you?”

“We’ve only met up in the last few months,” Caleb adds, wincing a little as their eyes turn to him. He sits up slowly, wincing apologetically in the direction of Essek’s wrist shackles. “But no, we have not, we are just working on this project - it is a real ficker, there are so many moving pieces - and we are nearly done, we meant to sleep last night.”

“How many days?” Fjord asks. “One? Two?”

When neither of them answer, sharing a silent look, he hovers a hand threateningly over each of their trapped feet. “Believe me, you really don’t want us to pick a number.”

“Four,” Essek says warily. “But Caleb slept for at least an hour each night, and I don’t need to-”

“Oh, four’s a lot,” Kingsley cuts in. “Did you not learn how to sleep in shifts, not being on the ocean, or do you just enjoy each other’s company that much?”

Essek turns bright red. Caleb’s pretty sure he turns even redder. Even Fjord looks a little embarrassed as Jester and Kingsley collapse into laughter.

Jester sobers quickly, though, pouting insistently down at them.“Four is pret-ty bad, you guys.”

Kingsley nods seriously. Thus validated, she starts bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. “I think we need to punish them, Fjord!”

Caleb can easily guess what this punishment will entail. “Wait a moment,” he says hastily, “we have not even told you about this project-”

“It will be worth it,” Essek adds. “If you would just let us-”

Fjord nods thoughtfully, ignoring their protests. “What do you say, a minute for each hour they should have been sleeping?”

“No-” Caleb starts.

“So that’s sixteen for Essek, and - Caleb’s been napping on and off, sounds like, so we’ll round it down to a neat half hour for him.”

Caleb gapes fearfully. A half hour of tickling, after months and months - he can admit to himself that he missed it a little, but- “That’s too much,” he blurts. “Bitte, you’ll kill me-”

“Really, this is unnecessary,” Essek adds, surprisingly dignified for the way he’s trying helplessly to press his feet against the bed. “Just - we are well rested now, we only need a few hours more to finish the project, there is no need!”

Jester pouts. “Oh, Essek, don’t you want to hang out with us?”

Essek flounders at that, and Caleb can’t help the soft smile that slips out of him. “I would like nothing more,” he assures her, “but being chained up and - and tortured - was not quite on my mind-”

“Well then, you shouldn’t have been so dumb, Essek,” she says cheerily. “Caleb, do you want me or Fjord to tickle you?”

His mouth goes dry. Jester will be - Fjord teases, but he is gentle at least, and Jester is - Jester-

He looks over at Essek, wide-eyed and eyes flicking between all of them in some strange combination of bewilderment and anticipation, and braces himself. “Jester.”

Kingsley laughs, delighted. “Oh, he must really love you,” he tells Essek. “He’s gone and given you the better option by far.”

Essek looks at Caleb, gaze softening. “Really?”

Caleb grimaces back at him, a little embarrassed by himself. “He’s exaggerating. And besides, I am not the one laid flat out here.”

Essek frowns. “Yes, about that.”

“Caleb doesn’t like having his wrists pinned down,” Jester says easily, scrambling up onto the bed and into Caleb’s lap. “Though you should know that already if you two are boning-”

“Jester,” Caleb pleads. Kingsley starts to laugh again.

She beams at him, darting in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Hi, Caleb!”

It’s impossible not to smile back. “Hallo, blueberry.”

He looks around her to see Fjord walk over and settle on Essek’s side of the bed, patting his shoulder companionably. “It’s good to see you two, really.”

Essek just sighs.

Kingsley prods at his belly, earning a hasty yelp. “He’s in a mood, it seems. You want some help with him?”

His stomach grumbles, just then, and Fjord laughs. “Why don’t you get some lunch instead,” he suggests. “We’d have brought something up, but the screaming sounded rather urgent.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” Kingsley cocks a loose salute and swings back off the bed with one more tickle under each of their arms, snorting in amusement as Caleb and Essek both squirm and protest. “The others should be arriving soon, I’ll keep a weather eye on the door.”

“Yes, do that,” Fjord says, waiting for him to round the corner and start down the stairs. “That guy is really into sea lingo.”

“Kingsley is great,” Jester enthuses. “Don’t you guys think he looks so much prettier now that he’s all tan?”

She’s not wrong. “Ja, sure.” Caleb says. “By the way, what exactly did the two of you tell him about-” He flushes. “About my ribs?”

“Oh, you know, just some stuff!” Jester says cheerfully. “Most of it is definitely not true by now, probably, since it’s been a super long time since we’ve seen you.”

She puts both of her hands on Caleb’s shoulders and presses, sending him flat on his back and leaning over with a mischievous smile. “Good thing we have a whole half hour to catch up, huh?”

Caleb gulps.

#tickling #critical role #shadowgast #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #kingsley tealeaf #fjord #jester lavorre #chocfic

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years ago

Text

Let Chaos Reign

Chapter 3- Don’t Provoke The Bear

Summary: After getting your shit rocked by the Avengers, you now wake up in a strange new place even more pissed off then you already were. Also that one pretty looking dark haired guy won’t leave you alone.

Warning: reader being chaotic, Bucky trying his best

Masterlist - Chapter 2

Eyes still closed you can feel a soft pressure holding you up, slowly parting your eyelids, you’re soon greeted by the sight of bright lights circling you overhead, though they remain unmoving. On further inspection, once you force yourself into a seated position, you take notice that you’re in some kind of flat spherical glass holding cell.

Blinking groggily, you look down to find your clothes are all still on your body, suddenly a pang of fear hits you at the thought of your mothers necklace. Reaching for it, you’re relieved to feel it’s still with you. Thanking whoever will listen for that bit of good fortune in this otherwise adverse predicament.

Shifting your gaze back to the current situation of the room, you’re able to see around to some sort of large cavernous lab area with a multitude of that armored man from earlier, though you can tell there is no vital life that stirs within them. Guards maybe? Decoys? You have no idea.

Suddenly your eyes catch movement from the left door, a dark skinned man in black clothing and a single patch over his left eye appears. “Good morning. I’m Director Fury.” He smiles with a friendly nod, arms clasped behind his back while he walks over to you, “Or should I say afternoon?”

Getting off the elevated bed, you wander towards the thick glass keeping you from him, “Where am I?”

Fury nods, “Better question you should be asking is how long you’ve been out for, cause damn, you can sleep.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

He chuckles knowingly, “I almost couldn’t believe it myself when the team told me. But wow, holding back both Vision and Wanda for as long as you did. I’m thoroughly impressed.” He boasts for you, genuinely fascinated by your daring feat.

Right, those two.

You frown, gaze hard set and intimidating, “Where the fuck am I?”

“Well for one, you’ve been out for a whole 15 hours since they found you unconscious but alive after getting blasted by Vision and Wanda. Weren’t sure if you were gonna make it, seems the universe has yet to take you out.”

Pursing your lips together in irritation, you glare through the glass at him, “Well I’m not exactly from here so....doesn’t matter. Tell me what this place is and where the fuck I am!”

He holds up his hands, “Alright no need to get heated.” Before clasping them behind his back as he begins pacing slowly back and forth in front of you, “You’ve created quit the stir since arriving in Ireland. My intelligence first received a message indicating a storm greater then a category four hurricane, which by our standards is pretty damn massive. Soon a fun little video of you throwing some busses around like rag dolls peaked my interest. And give or take a couple days, here you are.”

Giving him a deadpanned stare, you cross your arms, “The mystery of the century. Where am I?”

“Alright fine I won’t leave you in suspense, you’re in New York State. In a very secure and safe facility home to the Avengers. Nice place huh?” He smiles, dark eyes looking elsewhere as he gives a little once over of the room.

“I’m in a cell.”

“Yes. But it’s a clean cell.”

Suddenly you slam your left fist against the thick glass causing him to flinch, “You have no right to hold me here! Release me. Now.” You growl darkly, golden irises appearing to almost glow with your building vexation.

“Can’t do that.”

“Alright then, if that’s how it’s going to be. Then I’ll do it myself.”

A second later he’s genuinely startled as you cock your arm back before slamming it into the clear thick glass. With the power of bending the material and your people’s strength, the glass cracks into a fist sized area. Satisfied with this, you do it again and again before a voice startles you.

[Miss, please refrain from breaking that. Mr. Stark has requested that you stop immediately.]

“Agreed.” Says Fury as he hustles over to the far wall, bringing his arm up to his mouth, he speaks but you can’t tell what he’s saying. What nonsense is he even doing?

Ignoring both of them, you punch the glass a fourth time before the voice interrupts again. [Miss. Please suspend your advances. Mr. Stark is on his way.]

Halting your fist from punching a fifth time, you take a step back and bring yourself to the center. Positioning yourself in a fighters stance, legs slightly bent, arms held about 90 degrees; you thrust them forward causing the metal contraption to creak and whine in protest.

Holding your arms close to your body now, you make two tight fists before violently punching at the air; the metal holding in the glass slams forcefully against the far wall. Destroying a couple of those stoic armored sentinels in the process.

“What the fuck?!” Yelps Fury in surprise as he falls to the floor from the force of the impact, “Hey! You better stay right the fuck over there!” He warns while cowering in the corner, nothing to really threaten you with but his voice. That is until he pulls out a stunted black gun, like the ones you have seen on the Norwegian police. You ignore his threats anyways.

Taking your first steps out of the desolated cell feels almost euphoric, your body embraces how strong and dangerous you feel among this place and what has presented itself to you within her walls. A man and his words, a disembodied voice telling you to stop fighting your way to freedom. Ridiculous, they have no idea who you are.

You take a single step left when the man, Fury, shouts loudly, “Stay right there!” Your eyes find the gun held tightly within his grasp, “I will shoot!”

You don’t care for this shallow warning, there are things in this universe more important then a mortal mans fearful intimidation. Opening up your palm, the gun flies out of his hands while he gasps with a start, eyes wide and panicked as you turn the short nosed barrel towards him. Closing your fist, the gun combusts to nothing more then destroyed metal and hard plastic as it clatters to the floor.

He watches in disbelief as you then turn to your left before taking the first door that reads exit above it; you wander past a long hallway until you come across a door leading to a long flight of stairs to some floor with a sign reading - Parking Area - the door is obviously closed.

This is too easy, you think suspiciously, somethings not right.

Opening up the door, you’re greeted by a large cavernous glass and metal room holding a large black aircraft on the far end, a couple more vehicles parked in various areas spread about the place. And not a soul in sight.

Hustling along into the room, you’re able to reach the door on the other side, opening it, you cautiously stick your head out. Ahead of you is a large green yard stretching all the way back to a tree line with trees placed neatly along a road leading up to the facilities main entrance area.

To your far left is a large river, but still, you have no idea where New York is. This is all unfamiliar territory to you, so finding the Ancient One is going to be a tough fucking job.

Not seeing anyone, you take your first couple steps into the open. Soon you’ve made it halfway across the grass headed for the tree line before the sound of gravel crunching causes you to pause and turn around to face the intruder.

So close. The woods are right there.

Clenching your fists, you keep a defensive stance as you stare him down, this man is undoubtedly familiar. He’s dressed in boots, jeans, a pair of cloves for some reason, and a faded grey t-shirt that’s mostly covered by his forest green jacket, while his long dark hair is washed and sits handsomely around his face. Blue eyes staring at you apprehensively, “We’re not here to harm you.” Cautiously says the man in a soft tone of voice, hoping not to provoke you again.

“Then why was I just locked in a cell?”

He pauses for a moment, “Uh, okay, yeah that looks bad.”

“Precisely.

You turn to leave, yet his voice makes you stay, “You don’t have to be on your own you know. I don’t know what you’re looking for, or who....but doing it alone will only take longer. We could help you, if you want.” He suggests with the tiniest hint of a smile. You don’t trust him.

You look towards the lake before finding his gaze yet again, your golden eyes admittedly sadder as you softly answer him, “No one can help me.”

He takes a step forward, face softening, “I felt the same way once. Alone and confused, not sure where to go, no one to trust. Believe me, it sucked......so, I’m just hoping you’ll listen. That’s it.”

“Well, I don’t particularly like any of you. And so far you’ve all gotten in my way and fought me....I have no reason to trust a thing you say.”

He purses his lips together and nods, you’ve got him there, but nonetheless he takes another step forward, “Sorry about that.” He mutters while rubbing the back of his neck, “Uh, let me try and start over....I’m Bucky. And I am definitely not here to fight you. Promise.”

Eyeing him up suspiciously, you take a step back, “Y/N Lavpranthus..of Vanaheim.” You finally reveal, albeit with a smidge of apprehension, however you are not one to hold back your own name if someone is to speak freely theirs.

Bucky nods, incredibly grateful for your calm demeanor for the moment and this first bout of information given willingly by you, though he has not a single clue where Vanaheim is, this is progress. Good progress; perhaps the team was right to send him out first as their guinea pig against the big bad wolf.

Stupid in retrospect, but so far it’s appeared an effective strategy instead of Tony’s idea which was to have Vision and Wanda knock you out again. Not an efficient way to make friends who can throw busses around like its nothing but a bag of grapes...and all without even touching them.

Bucky reveals the flash of a smile as you slowly calm your once defensive stance, though you’re still wary of his true intentions, “Y/N.” Repeats Bucky with a genuine grin as he tests out your name on his tongue, “Never heard that one before, it’s beautiful.

Taken aback by his kindness and sincere compliment to your name, you finally let your guard down, “My mother gave that to me, it was her sisters name, though she died before I met her. Guess it doesn’t matter now...” He frowns as you share a dismal look with the ground, remembering the events that brought you here in the first place.

Family.

Soon your anger rises once more as you think of your brother, that conniving piece of shit, “Bucky....I-I can’t stay here. I have to go, you wouldn’t understand. And I don’t want you to be involved....fuck....he probably already has scouts hunting for me.”

Bucky’s brows furrow in confusion, who would you be talking about he has no idea, “Y/N, no one could hurt you here, alright. This place is pretty damn guarded. I mean, we are the Avengers.”

Shaking your head you take a step backwards, “No, none of you understand how dangerous he is, I’m lucky he didn’t kill me when he had the chance.”

“Who tried to kill you?”

Finding his worried gaze once more, you back closer towards the woods, a knowingly loathsome look crossing your features as you frown, “My brother.” And with that do you make a swift exit into the trees, out of sight in an instant.

Bucky takes a hasty step forward before looking back at the base where all of the Avengers are watching from the windows, they collectively make a go-get-her motion with their hands, indicating that Y/N is now his problem.

Fantastic, he thinks sarcastically, half the team can fly and I’m going after a demigod with family problems.

——

Jumping over fallen trees and ragged roots alike, you’re swifter then a young leopard under the treetops, it’s admittedly incredibly freeing that you almost get lost in the rush of it all as your boots pound against the leafy ground.

Arms pumping you quickly along while you run deeper into the woods, you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt so free, though your fun soon comes to an abrupt halt when something hard latches onto both of your legs, instantly you begin falling towards the quickly approaching earth.

With lightening reflexes, your hands are thrusted outwards while you emit a blast of air that saves you from suffering brain damage or a bruised face. The wind aids your body in stabilizing itself once again; now standing with your lower legs tied collectively by some metal clasp, you quickly clap your hands together before focusing your release.

The metal clamps rip apart from off of your legs, freeing you in an instant, “What the fuck was that about?” You mutter to yourself when what would you know it, there’s Bucky standing not even twenty feet from you, an apologetic look on his annoyingly handsome face.

He raises his gloved hands into the air, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how else to stop you...”

Shaking your head in disappointment, you take a step in his direction, “Bucky, you’re going to really wish you didn’t just do that.”

“Uh.” Is all he’s able to mutter before you send him flying backwards with the force of a small windstorm, you watch in amusement as he breaks some branches on his way to the ground.

“You really don’t like following orders now do you?” He hears you chuckle, “I like that. You’ve got a brave heart I’ll admit.” He watches as you walk into view, a knowing smirk adorning your beautiful otherworldly features, “Courage, it’s good. Even after what I did to you a couple days ago, you still came to speak with me when no one else dared, it’s valiant. You would be a noble warrior in my homeland.”

Bucky could have blushed if not for the stick poking uncomfortably into his back, “Thanks....you seem like...uh....an experienced...woman.” Mutters Bucky, mentally cringing at how unbelievably stupid that just sounded in comparison with how gloriously divine you are.

You snort, “Easy on the eyes and a skilled fighter. Guess conversation is too adept for even the likes of you.”

Bucky shows you a cheeky grin as he jumps to his feet, “Well....uh...you don’t really know me that well yet.”

You laugh at his weak flirting skills, “Too bad I’ve got elsewhere to be. I bet you’re fine company.”

“Right...right, yeah...” Mumbles Bucky with a nod, not really confident he’s gonna be able to sway you completely to his side, he just needs you to come back with him to the base. That’s it, well, in a calmly manner. “Uh...do you even know where you are?”

You open your mouth to speak but pause as you actually have not a single clue where you really are, brows furrowed you answer, “Upstate New York.” Your accent dripping strong with a tinge of uncertainty that greatly annoys you.

Bucky smiles, “Do you know where that is?”

“Well.....not completely but I’m willing to find out, elsewhere. I don’t need help, believe me.”

Bucky throws his hands up, “I believe you. It’s just....I don’t think you’re gonna find your brother without a little guidance here...”

“Don’t patronize me!” You snap angrily, eyes practically glowing gold as you fill with irritation; he’s trying to distract you from your goal, you don’t need any help from anyone. Your brother would never dare ask for such a thing if he was in your place, he probably would have killed this man in the facility yard without a second thought. “You’re all just prying little bastards, I have no business with any of you when my personal quandary is concerned!”

Clearly noticing he’s struck some kind of nerve, and remembering he’s been tasked with gathering as much information about you as possible while striving for the end goal of a truce. Bucky stupidly pressures you further, “Your brother can’t be that terrible, I mean.....what did he do?” Asks Bucky with a casual shrug, a sudden pang of fear flashing through his eyes as you send him a nasty glare.

You don’t even give him a moment to react before his forest green jacket is ablaze from your quick thrust of flame out of your fist, Bucky instantly yelps in surprise before swiftly throwing the burning fabric off of him before he catches fire himself. The jacket falls to a flaming heap on the forest floor, “What the hell?!” Yells Bucky, eyes wide at your incredibly abrupt act of hostility.

Whoosh!

And Bucky’s flat on his back with you right on top of him, kneeling down to meet his startled gaze, his breath hitches as you forcefully grab his stubbled jaw. Your eyes two golden coins of tempered rage, “You have no idea what he has done to me or my realm, you’re lucky I’m not like him or you’d be a burnt corpse adding to the ash of the universe. Pray you never meet him.” Your lip quivers in angered emotion as you lightly squeeze his jaw, “And if we meet again, I assure you someone will die.”

Bucky keeps still as stone as you finally release him from your admittedly powerful grasp, soon you rise to your full height, giving him one last conflicted look before sauntering off into the bushes.

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he had, chest rising heavily as the adrenaline rush of the fire and you touching him brings him back to reality. He’s on the ground in the woods and you’re absolutely no where to be seen. Soon he jumps to his feet and jogs in your direction until he reaches a gravel road leading back to the Avengers Facility.

You’re gone, just like a phantom in the shadows, gone.

Shaking his head in frustration, Bucky treks back to the base where Steve, Tony, and Natasha are waiting for him outside, all equally curious as to what the hell happened.

“Looks like you were unsuccessful, Barnes.” Quips Tony as Bucky throws him a dirty look.

“She’s...just.....complicated.” Mutters the tired Winter Soldier with a frown as they follow him to the front doors.

——

Bucky slouches comfortably into the back of the lounging rooms giant plush couch, a heating pad seated blissfully against his bruised back from all the times you knocked his ass to the ground today. Sam, Tony, Steve, and Natasha seated in various areas around the lounging room as they give him a break to rest.

Though the peace is soon broken by the sound of Tony’s irritating voice, “You at least get a name to hold against that psycho?”

Bucky throws him an annoyed glance, “She’s not a psycho, and her name is Y/N....I can’t remember her last name. It was something Middle Earth-like I don’t know.”

“Y/N?” Repeats Steve, “That’s different.”

Bucky’s face shifts to concentrated puzzlement, “Yeah, I know....it’s just, she said Y/N of Vanaheim or whatever that means....not sure but she’s definitely not from around here.”

“Really? What drew you to that final conclusion.” Jokes Sam as Bucky mutters an incomprehensible fuck off while the Falcon chuckles.

Natasha’s voice suddenly enters the conversation, “So she’s after her brother?”

Bucky nods, “Yep.”

“And doesn’t appear to know her way around this world either?”

“Yep.”

Natasha hums in thought as Sam speaks, “Damn. I wonder what happened to her before she got dumped into our world...”

Bucky suddenly sits up, “It’s just....she said some people are probably already after her, uh....her brothers guardsman I think?”

Steve takes a step forward, eye brows raised in interest, “Guardsmen?”

Tony nods, “Or are these some type of glorified assassins? I’m just putting this out there, but we really need to get this shit under control before she ends up destroying a building next. Or these, whoever is after her, decide to...oh I don’t know...kill some civilians while they’re at it.”

Bucky’s face shifts to puzzlement, “Dammit. It’s kinda my fault she ran off.” They all give him a varying amount of intrigued expressions as he sighs, “I was just trying to get more info out of her and then I talked about her brother and she set my jacket on fire, before throwing me to the ground and roughly grabbing my face to threaten me, she was really mad too.”

Sam smirks, “Did you enjoy it. Getting manhandled by a pretty lady in the woods?”

“Sam.” Mutters Steve like a disappointed father reprimanding his son.

“Come on Buck, it’s okay, you can tell us. Was it nice?”

Bucky throws him a deadly glare, “Actually it was, I felt very loved and comforted.” He quips, voice dripping in sarcasm before a more thoughtful expression crosses his features, “But she didn’t actually hurt me. I don’t know, she almost looked conflicted to leave....I don’t know it happened so fast.” He mumbles, closing his eyes as he falls back into the comfort of the couch.

“Well as much as I’m enjoying this time together with all of you...” Says Natasha, “We now have a person from an unknown world on the loose with incredible power and the means to use it as she wants. We all know where that can lead us.”

“With more collateral damage then what Ultron gave us.” Adds Tony, “Fortunately this time it won’t be my fault...like that makes a big difference I know. Still, she’s the Avengers newest problem now and we don’t have a damn clue where Miss. Anger Management is.”

“Uh, not exactly.” Starts Bucky as they all turn to look at him. Sam raises an intrigued brow, “What do you mean, not exactly?”

“I, well uh-when she was threatening me, well one of the times she was threatening me...I was able to plant a tracker on the inside of her one pocket. Then she pushed me into the grass and ran off into the woods, I couldn’t keep up even if I tried. She was just gone, but at least I was able to do that. It’s something.”

“Barnes.” Says Tony slowly, “And you’re just telling us this now? When we could have been sending some intelligence or agents or even ourselves out to find her.”

“Sorry but I was recovering from getting beaten up by a beautiful demigod to remember so soon,” Sasses Bucky, “but yeah, that aside, she’s got a tracker on her so all I’d need to do is pull it up on my phone and I’m good to go. Well, as long as she hasn’t found it yet.”

“If it’s just like that, you’re sharing with the rest of the class.” Says Tony while he wanders over to the television mounted upon the wall, “I’m gonna have you link with the tv, I don’t wanna miss a second.”

With a dramatic sigh does the Winter Soldier lean over to grab the thin metal device from off of the coffee table in front of him while Tony flicks on the large tv screen. Once all is set correctly and synched up, the others watch on in curiosity as he scrolls around a bit before finding the app and clicking on it, a couple passwords are sent in and accepted when the screen then shows one option labeled -Unite_1P - between two white bars within a sea of black.

He taps the label and the screen changes to a view of North America resembling that of google maps, but the screen soon shifts to zoom in on a moving pin point in red that’s traveling a couple miles far northeast of the Bronx, where it appears that Y/N happens to be trekking through some forest heading downwards towards that designated part of New York City.

Steve’s eyes trail over the red pin point, “So that’s where Y/N is going?”

“Seems like it. And she hasn’t a damn clue where she’s actually going either.”

Sam keeps his gaze locked onto the map as well, “And what does she want exactly?”

“She said something about finding her brother but that’s honestly it, I tried to help her but it was almost pointless. She’s on her own mission now, and no ones going to get in her way.”

Steve sighs, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“What?”

“Y/N. Someone getting in her way, someone just trying to lend a hand and she takes it the wrong way and then...”

“I know man, but I don’t think she’d do that to some innocent person. At least I don’t think she would.” Worries Bucky while everyone takes a moment to process and stare at the screen, red pin point still moving slowly towards New York City. The creak of wood is suddenly heard and all five Avengers turn their heads towards the abrupt noise of Director Fury who’s found himself a spot to stand in the large room.

“Unfortunately we don’t know that. And as the worlds mightiest heroes. It’s your collective duty to always assume the worst. She’s strong, has a goal, and appears able to get it if she tries hard enough. It’s admirable, and yes she’s no Loki...but she is a danger to Earth the less we know about her true intentions and the longer she’s out of our reach.” Explains Fury, “Barnes you’ve done incredibly well. But our apparent need for you has increased as well, so I suggest you smack on a band-aid because we’re going to have a nice civil conversation with her whether she wants it or not.”

“Me?”

“Yes you. You’re the only person she hasn’t tried to send a chunk of metal at, you got close, you got the information. We need you to do it again.”

Steve looks to Fury, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. What if she...”

“I’ll do it.....” They all give Bucky a collective array of questionable facial expressions as he shrugs, “What? I think she’ll listen, maybe, okay I’m not one hundred percent sure if Y/N will hear me out. But I gotta try right? She’s conflicted inside, she’s hurt and alone....if I just have a moment, another moment, I think I could get to her. I think she’ll listen.”

Fury smiles as Steve lowers his gaze, “That’s what I like to hear Mr. Barnes. And don’t none of you worry alright. We’ll be close, at a safer distance of course, but close in case anything goes south. Now the day is still young and we have a demigod to find, I assume you all know what to do.”

Steve looks to the array of assembled heroes, “Suite up..well actually...just Bucky.”

The designated man of the hour rolls his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, I’m going.”

Tagged: @buckylokisimp @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @bizarrebibitch @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @jmstz @thehornytitties @staygoldsquatchling02 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @mischiefmanaged71 @noragracebrewer @atomicpersonacheesecake @thescarlettvvitch @shawnartmendes

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #the winter soldier x you #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier #avengers imagine #marvel x reader #marvel x y/n #marvel x you #bucky barnes series #fanfiction #fanfic #series

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an-aro-without-an-ace · 4 years ago

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LTAI Part Three: Alloaro Allyship

Strap yourselves in lads, this is gonna be a long one. So, you want to be an alloaro ally, but you don't know how to start or what to avoid. Lets talk about it.

This post is going to be split up into two sections. Allyship for Alloromantic Allosexuals (Alloallo's) and Allyship for Fellow Aspecs (Aroaces, Alloaces, Non-Sam Aces, etc). This is also going to be a relatively long post so just keep that in mind. Anyway, lets get started.

Allyship For Alloallo's

So, you're someone who isn't a part of the aspec community looking to be an alloaro ally? Epic, lets get you started on the right track! Being an alloaro ally is pretty easy once you break things down, so here are some base level tips for you to consider.

Acknowledge Our Terminology

Yes, we do have terminology that should be used more often when refering to us. Its common for people to use "Non-Asexual Aromantic" when refering only to alloaros, and while that term is more inclusive of other identities such as Non-Sam aro's, its important to be mindful of when you are using it. If you are refering to Non-Sam, Neu, and Alloaros, the term is fine. If you are refering to Alloaros specifically, its better to use Allosexual Aromantic.

Include Us In General Pride

The aspec community is part of the LGBT community, no matter what some people may think. What this means, is that you need to include us in general pride activism. Simply having the asexual flag on a pride post and not an aromantic flag is not enough. It would be even better if you mentioned alloaro's in general pride post. We are here, and we are a part of the community, so if you are going to advocate for pride you need to advocate for us.

Combat Alloarophobia

Alloaro's are not predatory. Alloaro's are not players. We aren't out to manipulate people into having sex with us, and the idea that sexual attraction devoid of romantic attraction is somehow impure or wrong is extremely alloarophobic. Fight back against any sort of suggestions that alloaros are immoral or dirty or harmful to other LGBT members for their sexual attraction.

Listen To Alloaro Voices

If an alloaro calls you out on something thats made them uncomfortable, don't bite back like its an attack. Listen to us, and work with us on the issue. You might have meant well, but caused a simple misunderstanding, in which case this will be a learning experience. Just because we voice our opinions on representation and issues in our community, doesn't mean we are directly attacking you over something.

Allyship For Fellow Aspecs

So, you're part of the aspec community but not alloaro? Maybe you're Asexual, Alloace specifically? Or Aroace? No matter what you identify as, the next few sections are a good basis for you to start on your track to proper alloaro allyship. Alright, lets get started shall we?

Recognize Aspec Community Attitudes

Lets get the big one out of the way first. If you are going to be an alloaro ally you need to acknowledge the fact that a predominantly sex negative attitude in the aspec community is harmful to us. It should never be assumed that any aspec identity is going to relate to sex negativity or sex repulsion. Its extremely alienating when this attitude is the norm in our community. The best way to address this is to stop ignoring it like it doesn't exist. A good way to do that, is the next suggestion.

Tag Sex Negative Language

Just like how sex mentions are tagged so that sex negative and sex repulsed aspecs can filter them out, sex negative language should also be tagged. Imagine for a second that you're in the shoes of an alloaro. Seeing post after post about how sex is "gross" or bad can really start to make you feel like your attraction is invalid in your own community. Being able to filter out those kinds of discussions would greatly benifit alloaros who don't need to be constantly told that what they feel is somehow wrong or filthy.

Combat Predatory Claims

Just like with above, posts claiming that alloaro's are predatory or that anyone who feels sexual attraction is predatory are extremely harmful. Whenever you get the chance, combat those attitudes. If you see a post talking about how allosexuals are predatory or esspecially about how having alloaros in aspec spaces might be "uncomfortable" for aces or other aspecs, speak out against it immediately.

Include Us In Your Activitism

This seems obvious right? Well, unfortunately despite this being pretty straightforward, its not very common. Lets make this clear. If you are going to make a post about aromantic activism, you need to include alloaros. If you are going to make a post about aspec activism, you need to include alloaros. This doesn't just mean mentioning us either. It is not enough to have a mention of alloaros delivered by lets say, an aroace. You need to actively include us in your planning and leadership if you plan on advocating for us. End of story.

Acknowledge The Differences In Our Issues

If you are going to make a post about aromantic erasure in the community, make note of the differences between aroace and alloaro erasure. There are BIG differences between the two and its far to common to see other aspecs assume that general aromantic erasure is representative of all aromantic identities. If you are unsure of the differences, you can find out by ->

Meeting Us Halfway

We have resources out there. Sure they may be less organized then other aspec identities resources but they are out there. It extremely tiring having to constantly educate others on alloaro issues and terminology and thats something I am sure all aspecs can relate to. Do your research, browse the alloaro tag, TALK to us before you go around advocating for us and talking about alloaro issues.

#aromantic #alloaro #lgbt #arospec #aroallo #aspec #actually aromantic #aro allyship #LTAI #asexual #acespec #long post

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noritoshiikamo · 4 years ago

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game over

pairing: noritoshi kamo + fem!oc genre: angst tags//warning: established relationship, wild gojo appeared // blood, character death, emotion distress, mention of shibuya note: the obligatory trio of mine: not well edited, lowercase intended, english isnt my first language im sorry if i murder it. note that i put descriptions of the characters i write so it would be easier for me, you’re free to imagine the character the way you seem fits! okay listen imma be honest i dont like this part that much dhhdbdjksncjddiem and im sorry if it sucks bcs istg i cant compete to part 1 and 2 of it so IM SORRY tagging @unabashednightmarepizza @sassyeahhhh @dok-ja @sukirichi [bold means i cant tag u idky :( lemme know if wanna be tagged in the next part] read the first part | second part | third part | bonus

few years ago;

“you’re fucking ridiculous!”

“you’re injured, how the fuck is it me that’s being unreasonable?”

she contemplated stabbing him straight to his chest. “i’m fine, leave me alone,” she hissed, holding on to her arm as she tried to limp away. second year jujutsu student noritoshi kamo wondered how the hell one could be this stubborn. with blood caked up on the side of her face, lips busted and bruising in the corner, not to mention the broken arm and probably twisted ankle, he could not understand how one could be this reckless and stupid, it’s almost ridiculous.

but here she is standing in front of him.

“you could’ve let me handle it,” he said, coldly.

she never turned that fast in her life; her limping leg suddenly worked fine as she hauled her ass, throwing both fists to his chest. the force put was enough to threw him back a few steps, he caught her wrists holding her from falling down. “stop acting like i’m so fragile. i can exorcist the curse just fine. you make me hate you so much,” she spitted, pure rage etched on her face, “just because i’m a girl, because i’m your girl, i’m weak. please, i am as good as you are, kamo.”

their faces were so close, he could count the freckles spread on her nose and cheeks. he loves her eyes the very first time he caught glimpse of it; one is a dull brown while the other looks like it carries the secret of the bright blue sea. this time, the eyes he loves looked hopeless, lack of the burning spirit she carried with tears threatening to spill. letting go of a wrist, his trembling hand brushed the hair coated with the blood back, carefully not to hurt her. “i never said you are bad,” he clarified, fingers busy brushing the hair back. his sudden reaction surprised her, and her body betrayed her thoughts as she eased in his arms.

he tilted her chin, his head was panicking as he realised that his brain was no longer controlling his movement as he leaned down and kissed her.

she tasted like blood.

she winced, pain aching on the swollen part and he apologized so quietly as he deepened the kiss. “nori-” her voice croaked as she swallowed his moans. he hummed, satisfied by the kiss. their foreheads rest against each other, the tip of their noses touched as they struggled to catch breath.

“stop being stupid. let me help you okay?”

“okay.”

slipping his arm under hers, he helped her walk, leading them out of the abandoned building they managed to exorcist. nothing major, a couple of pestering level three and four curses that them both handled well but their supervisor missed to tell them about the hiding level two curse that took them by surprise. she had become the curse’s main target.

if she would’ve just listened to him and stay close. he sighed.

“ouch, ouch,” she cried, clutching on her left leg, forcing him to stop. impatient, he slipped his hand under her knees, lifting her up in his arms. she apologized profusely, embarrassed to be such a burden to him. he brushed it off immediately.

“did you call them? told them that we are done?”

she gasped, “wait, i thought they’ll wait for us.”

he huffed, “you’re not that important, y/n. give them a call, please. i want to go home.”

kicking the door open, the moonlight shone on them as he carried her down to the bottom stairs. settling her down on the steps, he sat beside her, letting a long sigh. he watched as she took the call, letting them know that she was slightly injured, and they need to go back asap. she was visibly tired, and he was the same too.

he couldn’t help but to sigh at the way the moonlight enveloped her. he had loved her from the very first moment he caught his eyes on her; she caught him staring, called him out publicly and ignored all his advances. it took him a lot to court her. she’s a gojo, she can have anything and everything with the sky is the limit.

but one thing money could never buy is affection.

it started with little stuffs; noritoshi waiting for her with her lunch readied every day. it annoyed her but momo (who was secretly rooting for him) forced her to just do it. “it’s just a lunch,” momo said sheepishly. noritoshi would have them paired all the time for the missions. she’d accepted it with open heart. noritoshi would also teach her how to weld a bow and shoot arrows. she promised that she would go out on date with him if he taught her.

by the end of their first year, they became inseparable.

the idea of being apart from her hurts him physically and mentally. she took a sharp breath when he laced his fingers between her own, quickly telling the other person on the phone that she was okay. “it was just noritoshi,” she replied with a small laugh. their hands fit each other; his skin contrasted her slightly tanned skin. while his hands were rough from welding the bow and he kept his nail short and clean, hers were slightly softer with her nails painted prettily. this month she had her nails painted in pastel. all the girls’ day out with momo and mai had proven its importance. he was happy to provide her with his black card despite her discontent.

“analysing my hands now?”

he smiled slightly, “it looks very pretty. i guess i got my money worth. are they coming?”

she leaned on his shoulder, his own wrapped around her as she closed her eyes, “they are around the corner. i would definitely need another round this week,” she teased. kissing her forehead gently, he didn’t mind that his uniform was stained with her blood; he was glad that she’s safe.

“i’ll happily take you there.”

few years later;

noritoshi kamo almost lost his mind. the stadium was half destroyed, huge craters on the pitch with the sight of his wife nowhere to be found. he looked up to the black pitch curtain encasing the stadium area from the sky, a curse escaped his lips.

“where the fuck are you?” he grunted, scanning the area.

she is gone, his stubborn little wife. she could’ve just wait but annoyed that their dinner date was interrupted and eager because this was their first mission together as a married couple; she escaped his supervision. as they were dealing with minor curses outside, she decided to head on forward, leaving him to deal with whatever is left. he beat himself inside for letting her come, he could easily do this himself and send her home safely, but she blinked her eyes and he was weak. she always has her way with him.

his step stopped when he realised there was a shadow ahead.

“she’s pretty,” the thing said.

his blood ran cold, “what did you do to my wife?”

the curse let out a laugh. it was sinister enough to send chills down his spine. especially when he realised the head it was stepping on was his wife. her eyes were fluttering back and forth, struggling to stay awake. a howl shocked him, shivers down his spine at the painful whimpers her shikigami making. cursed spirits were devouring it alive, overwhelming it and chewing every part of its body. his wife was too weak to dispel the shikigami; it’s dangerous as the devoured wolf shikigami will drain her cursed energy by a second.

all shikigami linked directly to the owner; everything inflected to the wolf, she could feel it too.

he needed a plan.

hidden in his wedding ring was a retractable knife. he rarely carries blood bags anymore as his power solidified itself. the older he got, the better he was at using and controlling a small steady flow of his own blood straight from the tap. with a clap of his hands, the knife cut his hand enough to send blood shooting like bullets. the blood hit the curses straight to its cores, died out instantly on impact, but the shikigami was beyond salvageable. it let out one last howl, one last goodbye before dropping to the ground, half of his snout gone. she will be devastated, it’s her only shikigami she managed to tame at such a young age, but at least it has stopped the shikigami from stripping his wife’s cursed energy to its core.

the fire burning in his eyes only made the curse laughed. he kicked her body away, spurting blood out of her mouth. she was halfway close to death’s doorstep.

“i will fucking murder you,” he hissed.

“my blood is my power. it’s supposed to rot human, stripping its meat from the bone like acid. however,” the curse nudged her body, “your wife didn’t. humour me, did your blood tainted hers? tell me, i’m curious how.”

“are you going to chit chat because i don’t have whole day.” his blood dripped on the pitch.

the curse grinned, shrugging his shoulder. he kneeled, running his bloody fingers on her cheeks leaving trails of flowers pattern that dissipated immediately, “i’m not here to fight. i’m here to serve a warning,” he looked up to the tensed sorcerer, “for gojo satoru. tell him, we’ll be waiting for him in shibuya.” noritoshi’s face scrunched in confusion.

“we have no business with the gojos.”

“but she is. she could change her name, married you, but it doesn’t erase the fact that she carried gojo’s blood in her vein. she’s the bridge to your two clans. i’m just killing two birds with one stone. ruin the kamo clan’s relationship with gojos and hurt gojo satoru. all thanks to her,” the curse turned his back on him, his laugh echoed as he walked away. the dark curtain disappeared slowly as the ground rumbled. a perfect chance for noritoshi to strike if it wasn’t because of the cursed spirit’s words gluing him to his spot, “oh, kamo, i believe a congratulation is overdue. let me know when’s the baby is due, i would love to drop by personally.”

the pillar holding on to the roof collapsed sending wave of dust all over the place. noritoshi covered his face, coughing as he sucked some in, removing his coat as a shield. the cursed spirit was no where to be found.

“the place is going to collapse! i’ll get the curse, you go get her!”

a voice echoed and he caught a glimpse of blond hair running past him and noritoshi didn’t think twice as he sprinted around the cracks and holes. who was that voice or who was the curse, he couldn’t give a single fuck, he just wants his wife back. he was shaking when he got to her, arms immediately scooped her up in his arms. her chest was raising slowly, blood dripping on the side of her lips as she struggled to exhale.

“you’re going to be okay,”

he told her, but he wasn’t sure if he will ever be.

“can you turn down the stupid light, it’s hurting my eyes.”

the voice laughed melodiously, the light moved to the other eye repeating the same thing.

“as you can see, she’s awake, slightly weak, but she should be okay.”

another voice interrupted, “are you sure?” she gasped, excited to hear a familiar voice. “nori?” she called out, unable to open her eyes, relying strictly to her hearing as she reached her shaky hands out for him. “her senses might be slightly off, just let her do it herself,” the woman’s voice noted, and she felt annoyed. how dare you underestimate me, her mind scoffed.

“my senses are fine. see?” she claimed as she held noritoshi’s hand up. he smiled, gently rubbing her hand with encouragement. “thanks, shoko, we are fine.”

“i’ll leave you be then. call me if you need anything.”

she listened to the clacking of shoko’s heels, followed by the door opening and slamming shut. she jumped, but he held her hand tighter, reassuring her that it’s alright. “so why can’t i see?” she asked, confident that they are alone now. she felt the bed sunk a little on the left side, “you were high on anesthesia, i’m surprise you could even move your jaw to speak.” she felt a finger brushed her hair aside, breath loomed on her face and she could feel her own face reddening up.

“are you going to kiss me or are you just going to tease me?” his heart swell up, despite her shaky voice almost made him laugh.

“do you trust me?” his hand cupped her cheek gently.

she nodded eagerly, “always.”

“good.”

his kiss hit her like a waft of fresh air. every kiss felt like a first kiss to her that she couldn’t help to react so eagerly to it. his tongue slipped through her defense, overwhelming her taste buds with such strong taste of iron. it didn’t stop her. she knew what he was doing from start. he peeked a little, didn’t stop a second from kissing her as he watched his blood marking appeared on her face. her hands went up around her neck pulling him closer and he obeyed, deepening the kiss.

heal; his mind commanded.

after a while, she pulled back, being the one to break apart from the kiss first, her chest raising up and down as she struggled to catch her breath. her eyes were wide open now, fluttering lazily as she leaned back on the propped-up pillow. he wiped the corner of his lips, eyes on her as he watched the open wound on her face and arms slowly closed leaving the fresh healed red marks behind. he relaxed when he heard a thank you coming from her, as she checked her healed arms.

“i’m disappointed with you,” he finally broke the silence.

“really?” she frowned. he always does this thing where he will immediately go into lecture mood every time she does something that pisses him off. it’s almost like a game to her as she waited for him to explode, “right now? not even going to wait until i’m discharged. this is a new record, toshi. like shoko said, i’m fine.” he shook his head, “it doesn’t make it right. you always disobeyed me. ignored my orders, going about with your goddamn big head, you could’ve been killed.”

she rolled her eyes, noritoshi is being noritoshi, what a drama queen, she mentally rolled her eyes, “but i’m not,” she pushed her hair back, twisting it easily into a simple loose knot, “i told you, i am not weak.”

“your shikigami was destroyed, your blood was poisoned, 70 percent was already circulating to every part of your vein, i had to beg for the higher up to help purify your blood,” her smile died down. this game no longer feels fun for her. noritoshi was really mad this time. “you think it’s fun and all game but game over, y/n. you need to stop doing this. if you can’t do it for me, do it for yourself.”

“leave me alone, nori, if you just going to nag, please i don’t want to hear it. i’m tired.”

it made him angry that she was taking his word lightly. running his hand in his messy hair, he felt like hauling his head to the wall.

“you don’t understand-”

she slammed her hand on the bed, interrupting his words, “no YOU don’t understand me, i’m tired of you babying me. i’m an adult, i am your wife, stop treating me like a fucking child! we have been married for months, but god you’re suffocating me.”

“i will when you stop endangering yourself. i will stop treating your like a child when you stop acting like one. you’re pregnant, for the love of god!” he threw his hand on the wall. the wall cracked from the force. “i’m what?” she felt the world stopped spinning. she was hundred percent sure that her ears and head were deceiving her. he removed his hand from the hole he made on the wall, his body shaking from the amount of anger building up.

“noritoshi, answer me! what do you mean- i’m not pregnant, i had my period this month.”

“you are,” he shrugged. he felt something hit him in the back; looking down he saw the fluffy white pillow sitting by his feet.

he pointed to the bedside table where a sonogram perched up against a tissue box. she was about to lose her mind. “this is not funny, if this is your mean way of fucking me up because i won’t listen to you then this is just fucking cruel.”

he marched towards him, his hand went down on his chin, forcing her eyes on him, “until you stop playing your stupid games, until you stop treating your life like it’s nothing, until you consider my feelings and my worries, as your husband is valid, i do not exist in your life,” tears fell down her cheeks, “like you, i’m tired too.

“nori i-“

he left her before she could say a word. she broke into sob; her chest was pounding so hard that the blood pressure monitor was beeping. the door burst opened but it was not the face she wanted to see. she was immediately hysterical. satoru managed to hold her wrist down before she ripped the tubes and needles off her arms. “no, no, i want nori. where is he!” she screamed as satoru held her down. “you need to calm down, it’s not good for the baby,” satoru cooed, but she was not having it. he turned to shoko, “her cursed energy is skyrocketing, she’s going hysterical, do something!”

“let me go!”

shoko held out a syringe, “hold her down.”

she screamed, thrashing so rough that she almost slipped out of the strongest sorcerer’s hands. she managed to get a needle out before she felt another sharp pain on her back. shoko pulled the empty needle out and they retreated away as she fell on her butt backward. she was reduced to a babbling mess, her eyes drooped as she struggled to fight the waves of sleepiness hitting her one after another.

“tell him i’m sorry,” she croaked out, before everything turned completely dark.

the blood pressure monitor returned back to normal.

three days later;

“are you still going to ignore her? it’s been 3 days.”

“she needs to learn her place.”

gojo satoru disagreed. he eyed the head of the clan, shaking his head before standing up. he thought he could convince noritoshi kamo to visit his wife, but the man was as stubborn as- huh, her.

“i think she have learned enough, she’s miserable. you’re miserable.”

the man glared at the blonde man child, raising the cup of tea up for a sip. the tea doesn’t taste as good as the way she made it. he left her for 3 days and he found himself struggling to do everything alone.

he, noritoshi kamo, 23 years old and the head of the kamo family, could not make a cup of fucking tea.

she always said that the best way to make tea depends on how long you let it steep. “too early and you won’t get the right amount of flavour,” she explained, her back facing him as he watched from the counter as she loomed over the stove, “but if you steep it way too long you going to burn the tea leaves and it will make everything taste bitter.” she turned around, a huge smile on her face that made his heart skipped a beat.

he frowned; the tea tasted bitter.

“she’s pregnant, she’s supposed to be crazy. you are supposed to be the wise one. she is going to carry your child for 9 long months, i can’t explain to you how long that’s going to be but she is allowed to be crazy.”

he dropped the cup on the floor when gojo’s hand grabbed him by his collar, pulling him up from his chair.

“now please, see your goddamn wife before i deck you in the mouth.”

“i will.”

satisfied with his answer, gojo’s demeanor changed and he was again the man child they all know of him. noritoshi could no longer focus on the report in front of him; not when his mind is full of her and only her.

would she forgive him? he wasn’t sure.

but he would spend his lifetime making up to her and the baby if that’s necessary.

#I FEEL LIKE THIS ONE IS JUST AINT IT AND I MIGHT REMOVE IT #jjk #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen #kamo noritoshi #noritoshi kamo #noritoshi x y/n #jjk y/n #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo satoru #wild gojo appeared #tw blood #noritoshi x reader #i already have part 3.5 have written tho loool #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #writing: fics

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