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andnofcksweregiven · 4 years ago

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Universal Rule

jeff wittek x reader

warnings: fluff , smut (i’m sorry if it isn’t super great first time writing it 😅)

synopsis: this anons request basically

There’s a universal rule that females and males can’t simply be friends. Where it came from- no one seems to know however, as much as we try and deny it, the realization that there’s harbored feelings hidden deep within you reels its ugly head around.

Jeff Wittek, a man who some may describe to be as gorgeous as a God but as charming as a devil. His natural allure but timidness factor to the ever growing attention of many women, ones he tries to politely reject with a signature giggle- a sign that, once again, he’ll be going home alone.

Except, he wasn’t truly alone as everyone believed. Jeff had a blossoming friendship with a neighbor, from the second he helped her with the last box on moving in day, to the next second everything fell through the bottom and all over his feet- a plethora of clothing ranging from heavy jeans to delicate red panties. For Jeff, it was like a nightmare, slight pink hue dusting his cheeks, that was until a fit of giggles erupted from his new neighbor's lips.

From that day on, Jeff and Y/N were inseparable. In their world, they were friends, ones without any ulterior motives in their hearts or heads, although- to someone looking in, Jeff and Y/N were a ticking time bomb. Either the final chapter to the romance part of their individual books, or the greatest heartbreak and tragedy since Romeo and Juliet.

Y/N was the first to realize and accept the fact that to her, Jeff was it. It tiptoed into her heart like a burglar, one who was preparing to wreak havoc on the one thing that no one had been able to possess in almost forever. It hit one evening, after Jeff was going on a rant about how there’s so much he has to do, and that even though he knows he’s working himself to the bone, he needs to make sure he’s growing. The vulnerability in his voice, the softness in his eyes melted Y/N- just like it had done to thousands of women before her.

For Jeff, it happened when Y/N had dragged him on a 2 am walk with Nerf after finding him slumped over his computer recording the same voice over for nearly 20 minutes- the food she had bought going cold besides him. Nerf was hopping up her ankles as they walked, an almost puppy like behavior, barking happily up at her. Jeff had stepped back to capture the moment as Y/N carried on going further- he had slowly lowered his phone as he gazed longingly at a girl who you could compare to Aphrodite.

The universe runs on minutes, hours, days, months and so on. A singular second could be a turbulent moment in ones life. Jeff and Y/N had so many stored seconds from meeting, to the realization that your friend holds more power over your existence then another soul. Those seconds, as heavy as they felt, had fleeted away like distance memories to reminisce on later. Nonetheless, the universe runs on seconds.

Jeff had been running late for a usual movie/ catch up night with Y/N, which led to her deciding to take a brisk shower to calm her ongoing nerves. To her dismay, her mind must have slipped up the tiny detail of letting Jeff know she was in the shower, let alone the fact that he had a spare key to her apartment.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I know I’m late but there was about 20 ninjas I had to fight off in the hallway an’ then a meteor was gunna come an’ hit-” Jeff voice slowly went quieter as he spun away from the front door, only to be met with an empty living room. “Huh, she must be running late as well” he thought.”fuuuuuck I need a piss, she wouldn’t care if I used her toilet”

He walked idly towards the bathroom, unaware to his surroundings as the only thought he was having was how much he was bursting. It wasn’t until a ear piercing shriek echoed off the walls as a naked Y/N stood stunned in the middle of the bathroom.

“Y/N!? HOLY FUCK I- I’M SO SORRY I-” spinning on his heel and running out the room as Y/N finally wrapped her towel securely round her.

“JEFF WHAT THE HELL?” she screamed at him once entering the living room, a pink faced Jeff sitting on the arm rest of her couch head in hands, from the sheer mortifying fact he had managed to see her whole bare silhouette.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I- I- I really needed the toilet...” a whisper that would’ve been hard to catch if the environment hadn’t been so silent.

“Oh, well go on then I’m done anyways” retreating back into her room to put some article of clothing and a shred of dignity that might have been left in her. Whilst Jeff hurried back into the steamed up room, the blush growing more prominent by every thought of that singular second.

It carried on through out the night, the tension thick in the air, as Jeff kept replaying the moment- he felt like he was being engulfed by the steam from how hot he was starting to feel. The beads of water cascading down your heaving chest, your pillowy lips slightly parted from shock as your sparkling eyes stared directly at him. The more he fantasized, the tighter his shorts got- he was trying his best not to let his mind wonder but having you pressed against his right side, your delicate hands grazing his upper left arm- sending electricity through out his veins- it was leaving him dissatisfied.

“Y/N?” his voiced wavered as he gazed downwards at the h/c haired girl,

“Yeah Jeff?”

“Can you look at me for a sec”

A slight giggle escaped your mouth, as you raised your head to stare longingly into his eyes. “Ok what do you want because this is a really good sce-”

A second.

A second was all it took before your lips collided into a passionate yet sensual kiss. A kiss that had left you breathless and almost bare once he pulled away. The empty space between your lips seeming never ending, suddenly you grasped at the collar of his shirt as you fell back on the couch, Jeff following as he slotted himself between your parting legs. His lips trailed towards your jaw and down your neck- sucking and biting, leaving something more then just a memory behind.

Hot breathes followed by sharp movements of clothes being ripped off, after months of hesitation and refusal of the cardinal need to be with one another.

Jeff's lips wrapped around the stiff peak of your right tit as his slightly rough textured hand, massaged the other one. To him, it felt like silk, soft and welcoming. He didn’t think he could feel better until he finally got a taste of you, a broad stripe up your slit, making you gasp and slightly arch your back off the couch as his forearm held your hips down. As he pulled his head back, the loss of contact had you whining until suddenly Jeff delved his head back in, sucking on your clit that a guttural moan escaped your bruised lips. Your eyes rolled back as you felt a tight coil in your lower abdomen as Jeff continued his attack in between your legs.

“Jeff I’m gunna, JEFF!”

You came all over his tongue as he carried on lapping away, the taste of you making his mind hazy. Finally, he pulled himself up towards your face, your eyes hooded as you tried to catch your breath.

He placed a light kiss to the top of your head has he stroked your hair backwards, whispering and “are you ok?” to your hairline.

He was going to ask if you wanted to go on before he felt your hand wrap itself around his dick, slowly moving your hand up and down as you placed the tip against your entrance. Looking into your eyes for any shred of hesitance, but being instead met with lust. He kept the eye contact as he pushed himself further inside, a sharp intake of breathe being held inside your lungs as your walls enveloped around him. He didn’t start moving until you let the breathe out, followed by a slight nod.

He built up his speed start slow and hard before hammering into you, the tip of his dick hitting the spot you needed him too. Both of your moans harmonizing as the air carried them in the room, along with skin slapping. Jeff was insatiable. To him, you were like a new vice, one that he intends on never dropping. The constrictions of your walls felt like heaven as you gripped onto his dick, your groans and breaths becoming shallow and shaky as you neared your peak. A final hip shattering thrust, made you coat Jeff’s dick as he slowed down, nearing his own finish as his breathing became ragged until, at last, he pulled out and released on your stomach.

He collapsed beside you as your labored breathing filled the silence- the movie long finished.

“Wow, I really wasn’t expecting that” you half heartedly chuckled, as you cuddled back into Jeff’s side, head resting on his chest.

Your head bounced as Jeff’s laugh echoed in his chest. “If I’m being honest y/n/n, neither did I”

“So what now Jeff? Can’t exactly pretend this didn’t happen” resting your chin on his chest, waiting to see his deep brown eyes that turned golden in the Sun light.

“Lets not then” he responded nonchalantly as your eyebrows crumpled together, his gaze averting away from the barren ceiling to yours, a smile gracing his lips as a deep emotion of love clouded his eyes “This is a second I never want to forget”

#jeff wittek #jeff wittek x reader #jeff wittek fanfiction #jeff wittek imagine #jeff wittek imagines #jeff wittek smut #jeffs barbershop

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6blackfilin9 · 3 years ago

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I love your Anko fanart! Tell me, what are your views/headcannons on Anko X Kazuku?

hThank you so much for the ask, finally I can answer it

here is my big thank you for the waitng

In a nutshell, the shipp was created by accident while me and my buddy were working on our first Naruto AU in 2019, where Kakuzu and Deidara survived their shitty plotholes end eventually ended up in Konoha

Yeah

so, the shipp’s birth date is july the 1, 2019

anything like classy, aristocracy kind of tension-filled passionate gothic romance with playful, psychological games & hurt/comfort vibes with slight scent of rivalry is KakuAnko

Basically, they are: a very, very old man with absolutely horrendous background who’s trying to finally have his mother*cking 10 or 30 years of peace, and a rather young lady with a rocky youth who’s being good & noble yet has very strong antihero tendencies

You know, I think they do have potential, since, in fact, they seem to be very similar, at the core

They are both very pragmatic realists, the people of logic and reason, yet if Kakuzu’s irritability doesn’t affect him a tiny bit due to his ideal self-control, Anko’s can lead her to quite bad places, sometimes. They put their interests in the first place, and even though she tries to attach them to Konoha’s, she still has ‘personal’ things (I’ll write ‘bout it lower*). Their mindsets are so complicatedly organized that, at some point & way, it prevents them from having many close people, and makes them very hard to see through and predict

Both of them are very flexible & adaptive, independent individuals with similar outlooks on plenty of things and high intellectual level. They clearly can find plenty of traits that they would highly respect and adore in each other

Here I will speak mostly for “why and how” kind of things, bc both of them are terribly tricky to accurately figure out. But there will be some headcanons too

So, there are still some odds about them, due to the strong difference in their occupation, like, in plenty of cases they are really tricky to be brought together, because:

- Of the job

In original, Anko is a Konoha’s special jounin, and she is very dedicated to serving the country. Independently of whether she likes her job or not (depends on the plot), she orienteers at the people, at society’s gain from her work. So, accordingly, in any other AU her job is somehow connected to civil service, whether it’s something police-like, connected to science, or something like CCG in Tokyo Ghoul

Kakuzu, on the other hand, is a hitman and a persona non grata in literally all the five big countries, Konoha too (which makes it barely possible to bring them together in the original universe without hard complications or heavy drama. But still possible). He orienteers on his own gain alone, but, depending on the job, it can include others’ gain, too.

This detail makes him a saint once he holds supervising position in some company or any high position in the government (the better the working conditions of the staff now- the more money in the prospective), and the sheer nightmare once he has it on the opposite side of the law. Him as a mob boss is a complete different topic for discussion, but to get the point, in this case, the trouble isn’t him increasing the level of criminality (its rather vice-versa), but taking hold of too much control in the high and underground structures. Even as an ordinary hitman he’s rather tricky, since everything depends on the case

In most of the stories, they come to some sort of compromise, and how hard it is to reach it depends on how shitty his job is and how attached they are to each other at the moment

Like, in the above mentioned Shippuden AU and Harry Potter AU (which I also wrote with my buddy) everything went like clockwork, because there they are both more or less on this side of the law, in Tokyo Ghoul AU (which I also wrote with my buddy) it is a bit more complicated, with her being in-law and him being very much outlaw, in the Avatar AU (which I also figured out with my buddy, but we never happened to write it) it is also pretty smooth, with both of them being outlaws and then jumping out to the glory after all the shit is done, but in another Shippuden AU of mine, this all would be just a motherfucking bloody disaster

- Kakuzu is actually a hard nut to get attached to anyone

He lived too long to be truly afraid of anything, though. Its mostly because he doesn’t really need to get attached to or become close with someone to satisfy his need for communication. The man can get along with anyone once he wishes to, he can have countless acquaintances and plenty of buddies, but he doesn’t have many comrades and barely can call anyone a friend. Because he is used to lose everything and everyone he ever had or happened to have, because of his inhumanly lengthened lifespan.

It requires time for him to get used to the person, and then, eventually, in some cases, spend plenty of it to get attached

Plus, for him, due to his profession, each close connection is a really great responsibility for him. In most cases, he’d think twice of weather he is ready to take it or not

Though it of course has the personal factor, too

In Anko’s case, she has a grand privilege by being a very intelligent and keen woman, not just in cognitive plane, but in emotional, too. High emotional intellect is actually a rare trait, so she automatically stands out of the crowd for him. Even though it won’t guarantee his alliance, it will grant her his high respect and some sort of sympathy

- Kakuzu is, technically, an asshole

He does have his moral compass, which includes a great amount of common social morality, but he also has that “I am working” state

Even though Kakusu has a set of professional principles, and he still acts accordingly to what he thinks is right, one and the very same situation can be solved diametrically different once the context changes from working to casual and vice versa

This, and him being very independent and quite antisocial, makes the degree of assholeness depend on various factors

This can lead to major conflicts of interests, and if they are possible to have any compromise or not is strongly attached to the circumstances. After all, both are very, very prideful and dignified people

- In other words, the only major issue for them would be morality questions. It’s possible to make the case acceptable for Anko, since both of them ain’t truly squeaky clean, along with Kakuzu being willing enough to watch his borders

- She is provident and doesn’t really need a lot of money on a daily basis, which is much of a joy to him lol

- *they both seek for the stable ground, first of all

Taking in consideration the life conditions Kakuzu had in his youth (despite war state, he still stably had family, friends, grand respect from everyone, home, warmth and food) and how terribly he was torn out of his secured social environment, I believe what he seeks through all his bounty hunt and other money-connected manipulations is stability. Sustainability he had back then. The only way to have it in the conditions of our existent world order is to have money (and a very good mind and luck)

Anko has indeed much more altruistic motives, yet it’s still not that simple. It seems to be, on the first sight, yet considering the “Orochimaru related cases” and her very wayward behavior toward them, it’s clear she keeps her own motives and needs in mind oh so well. The service she has is very well payed, it allows her to do what she likes or believes is right, and to have the living conditions she finds comfortable. And only here, relying on the made sustainable basis, she does what she does

- Thus, they both illustrate the principle “first help yourself, next help the other” just right

- She knows she can keep an eye on him, yet it’s clear for her that her influence isn’t borderless, as well as telling him off some stuff is kind of a not wise thing to do. So in the majority of cases, she never interferes

- This is not common, yet he can actually change some plans if the situation is serious and the compromise can’t be found. He is that kind of person who works on a further prospective, and in this context, this would be the relationship with his loved one

- While Kakuzu is quite conflicted and has very reserved controversial persona, Anko is both controversial, conflicted, and sort of two-faced, on top of that

She is a very sincere, cheerful and humbly honest human being, yet she has some darker natural traits of her character that became rather strong with age and traumatic experience. Cunningness, guile, ways-depend-on-the-case and a bit of ruthlessness, that is. Moreover, she has some unsolved personal issues, which makes her even more twisted.

Like, remember the time when she confronted Orochimaru during the exam? And Kabuto, on the war? Getting rid of them is indeed beneficial for Konoha, but it’s clear that for her it is personal vendetta in the first place. She wouldn’t have tried to do this alone, otherwise, because these two are rather dangerous ones, to say the least.

She uses greater good to cover her real motives (even though it is not truly complete bullshit), and seems to have a terrible habit to keep silence about really important things, which makes her quite prone to lying, in some cases

And sometimes it very badly pisses Kakuzu off, since it makes her prone to doing useless but dangerous shit too

Yet this not any kind of separate hidden side, it is integrated into her personality, and coexists with her bright one. That’s where her violent humour comes from, for example.

But Kakuzu, on the other side, is completely monolith individual, yet sometimes his mindset can create contradictions when it comes to something important to him. but it's another topic

And seeing these layered constructions, and motives, they can pretty finely predict each other’s behavior. Not super-neatly, but they for sure see the basis. This is what helps Kakuzu to prevent Anko from doing some stupid shit, sometimes

- Anko has a role of an indicator for the people who don’t understand and see the changes in Kakuzu’s mood sometimes, since she usually reacts quite openly. Yet, when she has the same unreadable mask of cold, or one of guile, it’s a nightmare for them

- They prefer the non-verbal way to show their feelings, even though Anko is obviously the more chatty one

- They don’t say things such as “I love you”, or other sensual stuff like that really often, believing it to be some sort of cherished words that shall not be spelled mindlessly

- Anko isn’t majorly into PDA, but she fancies it much more than Kakuzu does. She has her whole moments of studying something with her hands, whether it’s a hand, scar or face. He’s more into passive display of affection, like wrapping an arm over her waist or leaning to her or something of this kind; they can allow themselves to (not sexually) kiss in public though

- She knows he doesn’t like to walk hand in hand due to considering it a youthful thing, so there are times when she intentionally walks holding on to his sleeve; generally they walk separately in order not to bother each other, but sometimes they walk arm in arm (like an old Victorian couple lol)

- Being older and wiser, Kakuzu eventually upholds some kind of mentoring position, yet he never considers himself any kind of a teacher or master to Anko, believing her to have a good head of her own. He is just insightful enough to break something through to her or give a word of advise

- This, combined with his highly powerful demeanor, also makes him have the leading position in their relationship

- Anko respects him much enough to fortify this, entrusting with plenty of life questions (like organizing the family budget), even though they make the majority of decisions together. Mostly because he is truly wise and highly experienced individual.

- This makes him one of the very few people Anko would actually listen to and take their opinion in consideration

- So basically they have equal relationship with some tendency to patriarchal order

- And it is, really, mostly economically-based disbalance, with him earning much more than she does

- Yet they never have any financial-based issues, since both of them keep in mind and respect the contributions of each

- There is major power play here, too. He has the absolute might, she has seduction. Anko loves how he makes her want to submit to him, let him have all the power, so she likes provoking him. And she knows he adores it, loves the subtle control she has over him

- They don’t have conflicts in their everyday life. Each knows how to avoid pissing one another off

- He cherishes her playful demeanor, her intellect. Combined with her cunningness, it allows her to rival him, in social sphere. The way she constructs her phrases, the way she speaks, mimics, moves, how bewitchingly it suits her feminine snaky features makes his blood boil and heart melt

- Both of them, actually, have rather specific kind of dry, dark humour. Kakuzu’s is very cynical, satirical, quite often menacing and subtly demeaning; Anko’s is very sarcastic and quite dirty, even gruesome and rather violent

- Sometimes they “fight” verbally as a form of a play. In some circumstances they may sound pretty vile, so some unobservant people mistake this for display of hate

- In general, Anko is the one to heat things up with her playful demeanor, which can include provocation and rivalry, and Kakuzu is the one to keep this energy in borders, accumulating it up to much more intense states

- They both put the comfort in the first place when it comes to household. Everything must be cozy, useful, silent and super clean

- Yet they are both very unpretentious and modest, really

- She absolutely adores when he is showing his serious, severe side, or powerful demeanor. She finds it incredibly suitable for him. She also likes how his real age is sliding out in this or that way. Like, even though he has rather young face (that of 37-40 y.o.), his eyes give away that he’ve seen oh so much more than it seems; the grumpy noises and grunts he makes, the lazy attitude in movements and the way how rapidly he finds a comfy pose once he has a chance to take a seat

- They are both rather patriotic, yet while in the most stories Anko’s feelings mostly lay towards the country she lives in, Kakuzu’s more often lay towards some places, so called small motherland.

- Kakuzu actually could be a source of deep, strong admiration and delight for her, despite all of his bullshit. The unbreakable will he has, mighty burning heart, all the wisdom, talents and mind. Being sent to fight god damn Hashirama, clearly a genius of his times, financial & management genius at the least. And, still, after all the hard times he’ve been through, he maintained the very strong sense of dignity and nobility, even though slightly twisted due to the profession and abnormal lifespan

- And the very same things can serve as the source for her chagrin: with all those traits, he could have been so much more rather than a criminal. With all the gifts he’ve got, he could have been of great use to society. He’s much easier about this, since his prospective is much wider and embraces decades (and in some universes even centuries) instead of months & years, and he knows that he’d be switching sides throughout his life, being on this and that side of the law, yet he still is a bit uncomfortable once it’s brought up

- They are deeply into science, which makes them atheists. He’s into medicine and human biology, she’s into chemistry and reptilian biology; both of them are nuts for physics, history and psychology

- They solve complicated physical and mathematical problems together time to time. She is the first one to have tea-breaks due to losing her temper over it, he tries to figure things out right until you can sense the smoke coming off his head

- Actually, they do have a stumbling stone aside from job & morality complications. And this is Anko’s attitude towards Orochimaru

What she does is basically ruins her life very-very slowly, maintaining the issues she has and planning to make him pay for all he’s done

Kakuzu knows exactly what is really going on with this attitude and why, but he can’t really do anything about it. Like, he knows he can’t make her change her mind or put something into her head

All he can do is really nothing but try to explain how those things are working, and even this option is basically a landmine field for him. At some level she does understand that he could probably be right, yet she just refuses to go back on her mind. And this is actually really dangerous, so at some moments they can fight quite badly about it

- He’s scared shitless to lose her, though; especially like that, even though he knows clearly that he will, anyway, sooner or later

- he knows that losing loved ones ends up with sheer disaster for him, yet he isn’t afraid to pay such a high price for those six, five or four decades of being with her. Because these decades are that of a paradise ones for him. Wife and family, as well as stable job, incomes and life conditions, are some sort of physical definitions of sustainability he craves. Especially family, yet it’s far ahead to plan

- The fact that he will have to bury her one day makes her rather depressed, as well as the knowledge that the only thing she can really do about it is to try to bring him as much happiness and comfort as possible before she dies

thank you, i'd say more, but it's too much already

#my art #naruto #naruto shipuden #akatsuki #naruto akatsuki #akatsuki kakuzu #kakuzu #naruto anko #mitarashi anko #kakuanko #they are very entertaining disaster

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dawsons-justice · 4 years ago

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He Promised, You Trusted.

Part Two to “I Promise, You Trust”

A/N: Reader is between 14-17, so this is a Father Figure!Antonio x Reader. No romance, 100% platonic.

TW: Nothing horribly graphic, some mild angst, but mostly just to lead up to the fluff

Masterlist

It sure was cold outside. Chicago had been cold, but Minnesota somehow was colder. Your aunt had apologized she couldn't pick you up from school but it wasn't really her fault. She had to pick up some extra shifts to keep up with the bills. You're just glad she let you stay with her. 8 months ago, you really had no idea where you would end up.

8 months ago...

Detective Dawson ran off to make some calls, leaving you to your own thoughts. You noticed the worried glances of his coworkers watching you from the unit floor. You didn’t know any of them, they were all sorta intimidating in their own way, well, except for the woman with brown hair, she looked nice. It just felt better to block them out and focus on the mug in your hands. The hot chocolate had gotten cold in the time it took you to process everything and really you haven’t truly processed anything.

Dawson came back in the room, his face muddled with several emotions. There was some stress, determination and anger but you made out the sympathy on his features most of all. Most people don't want sympathy, but you were just glad someone was caring enough to do so. Trailing behind him was another cop, older, you'd seen him before, just didn't know his name.

"You got anyone we can call?" Antonio asks. you had to wrack your brain a bit. It hadn’t occurred to you that this would be important. "I have an aunt. I haven't talked to her in years. My dad and her don't get along."

The two men exchanged a glance. And you understood now. If you didn't find a home yourself, they'd have to put you in a group home. That was not good. You had heard stories, everyone has. Group homes only provide shelter to trouble. If you ended up there who knows what would happen to you after. You hadn’t thought this through, this was a bad idea. In some sort of a desperate plea, you grab the detective’s hand as he’s about the leave with the other guy.

"Wait no no... I can't live in a home. I can't. I'd rather go home to my dad. Please no." Panic evident in your voice. His face softens, kneeling down to your height. He was just going to try to comfort you. You forced yourself to remember whatever he says can’t change the truth. He isn’t the one making the rules. You’re not naive.

"Hey, hey kiddo. Not there yet, let's give your aunt a ring and see if we can get ahold of her. You got a name?" His voice calm, if he was worried you really couldn’t tell now, unlike when he first returned. You gave her name, not knowing anything besides she lived in St. Paul. But they were cops, you figured they could track her down.

The other guy, Voight, left, you heard him call out to someone named Halstead to run your aunt's name. Antonio didn’t move, just kept holding your hand looking around as if he wasn’t. The fact we seemed unbothered by the comforting gesture put you more at ease, yet you still were struggling with this.

"B-but what if she doesn't want me?"

There was a look of disbelief in his face, as if you were made of solid gold. It was fake and you knew it, still, it was comforting. "We're gonna figure it out, ok? I'll tell her myself what a great kid you are."

"I'm sorry."

The detective didn’t have to say anything, but you knew he deflected your apology. Somehow you just knew the minute you said it what his response was going to be. He didn’t feel bothered. And on top of this it was going to work out. He would make sure it worked out.

And it did. Given the explanation of the situation, your Aunt was happy to take you in. Antonio pulled some strings and you spent one night with his colleague Kim Burgess (the woman with the brown hair) before your aunt took over custody. In less than 48 hours you were on your way to Minnesota with a bag you packed and your dad had no clue. For once you knew there was at least one person who was worth trusting in this world.

The snow crunched below your feet. It was only another mile or so to your aunt’s place. The roads were pretty clear. Much of the snow had been packed down for days, but a recent heatwave melted and refroze the roads to solid ice. The deceiving snow was only an inch or two thick on top of the slick icy layer beneath. So, when you hear tires squeal, it is not in any way surprising. You were learning to drive yourself; ice roads were something that even your aunt had trouble managing let alone teach you how to navigate. You had respect for anyone who was able to successfully manage those roads in two-wheel drive. Whipping around, there’s not a two-ton car sliding towards you as you had expected, planning to dive roll into the snow. There’s a black van with a guy in a ski mask running towards you.

Crap.

Taking advantage of the ice, you threw your backpack at him, hoping he’d lose his balance and walk onto the more slippery road. Yet things do not go to plan as he easily recovers and continues to pursue you, reaching you and wrapping his arms around your waist. You fought. You screamed, wailed, bit, flailed, kicked and every other defensive action your subconscious could think of. It didn’t work, he was just too much bigger than you. You were thrown into the back of the van.

no no no no no this can’t be happening.

You considered yourself a calm person, but that was before you were tied and gagged in the back of a van. The darkness seemed to only escalate your fears as you had a blank canvas to imagine your worst nightmares becoming reality. "Please, just let me go” you must have said it 40 times before something heavy hit your head.

Things faded in and out. Darkness and light fought a battle, but you could never really tell if you could see or not, it was all just shadows. The nausea was also coming in waves, paired with the throbbing sensation on the back of your head. You had been pistol whipped. But of course, you didn’t know that. The sheer terror of the entire situation still had you disoriented. You couldn’t feel the time pass, most people know what a minute or five minutes feels like, but you couldn’t focus. It was all too much.

When the van doors slide open you hear the guy who grabbed you talk to whoever was driving. “I still can’t believe this guy.” His gruff voice scoffed, close by.

“Well, he had the money, who are we to judge.”

“Guy? Had someone hired them to take me? Was I about to be sold or something?”

You’re embarrassed to say the next voice you heard brought you half a millisecond of comfort, it was misplaced. “You had to put a sack over her head?” It was your dad. How? Better question why would he ask that question though he had no emotion in his voice.

The men and your dad talk as you wrestle with this entire shock. Suddenly someone picks you up and carries you over their shoulder. You figured it was guy who grabbed you, but feeling that whoever was holding you gently lowered you to the floor, you made the new assumption it was your dad. The blindfold and gag came off in a quick motion. You were met with the hollow face of your father in some sort of abandoned room. He gave a sickening smile, one that brought no relief with it. “I brought you back sugar!”

“Dad, let me go.”

He nodded and started to undo your restraints. It couldn’t be this easy. Taking a moment, he was preoccupied with removing the duct tape glue from your arms, as if he cared, you jumped up, running across the room to open the metal door, but it was locked.

“Open the door, dad.”

“Y-you’ll just leave.” He whimpered, face looking offended.

This wasn’t your dad. The eyes were too hopeful and the demeanor was too caring. This was you dad having some sort of a mental breakdown. The pieces came together as you watched the tremors in his hands. Not knowing the man in front of you felt more terrifying than the man you ran away from. Before, you knew somewhere buried deep in his subconscious he would never seriously harm you beyond some bruises. But you stared into eyes you didn’t recognize. It was entirely possible he was going to kill you. All of that mess 8 months ago just to end up dying in Chicago and nobody knows about it.

But that’s where you were wrong.

Within a 25 mile radius…

“Detective Dawson,”

The somewhat uncaring police deputy at St. Paul started running down the situation. There wasn’t much to tell. Your backpack was found in a snowbank near some blood in the snow with you nowhere to be found. Your aunt had been adamant that the deputy at the front desk reach Antonio. And of course, the detective roped his unit into the situation. Voight made it a priority. It didn’t take a psychologist to see that Antonio cared about you, he cared about all his teen CIs. They were his secondary kids. He would find you, even if he hadn’t promised you to do so. He promised himself. When word had come in that your dad had been behind the entire situation it was not much of a shock. A man with a past of petty crime and domestic abuse with mental health concerns did seem like a high probability suspect. He had also rented out a storage container on the industrial side of town. Antonio and his team suited up. He was going to end this situation here and now.

“CHICAGO PD OPEN THE DOOR”

In a frenzied craze, your father throws you to the floor. It would make sense for him to run, but logic wasn’t a key factor right now. His foot goes to your neck and the gun points to your head. The gun must have been on his back, you hadn’t seen it until now.

I don’t want to die.

Not like this.

Not here.

Please no.

Please.

Bursting through the door you make out several people with weapons drawn on your dad. Light floods the dark room leaving the two of you partially blind, yet the tension still filled the air.

“LET HER GO.” It wasn’t a request. It was an order. Regardless, your neck was still being crushed. Air was slowly waning from your lungs. And then it wasn’t. In an instant you felt his foot roll out from over you, giving you a chance to scramble away.

“Y/N, Y/N, it’s ok. We’re police.”

And that was likely the only time anyone from your side of town was happy to hear that phrase. But still, you couldn’t quite comprehend it. It was a full mess of tears, screaming, wailing and shaking. You had been mere seconds from death by gun or choking, you couldn’t just suck it up. Not even you were that badass. Nonetheless, the cops weren’t getting anywhere with calming you down.

“Call an ambo.” Calls another voice, a woman. “Tonio, you ok?”

“Yeah” And under normal circumstances you would have connected the dots, but as it has already been overly reiterated, you were not stable right now. The only thing you could register was the familiar hand on top of yours gently squeezing your arm below.

“Shhh shhh, it’s ok kiddo, we got you. He’s gone.”

Hold it, you know that voice.

And what would you know, you finally grasped it. Staring down at you is Detective Dawson, once again saving your neck, literally. It was probably against some rule, but you just buried your head in his shoulder trying to block out everything outside. He let it slide, just holding you there, seemingly not in any rush to move you till the paramedics arrived. In time you realized the other officer trying to calm you down had been Burgess, but you just hadn’t recognized her. You’re in pain, but not horrendous amounts, must be the adrenaline. Regardless, Antonio calls another officer, Atwater, to carry you outside to the ambulance. Before you know it, the ambo is driving away from the scene to Chicago Med, leaving the Intelligence Unit to deal with the aftermath including Dawson.

Sitting in the ER, you wait for test results to return on your head scan. More had happened in the last 12 hours than in the last 8 months. You realized how much you liked the simplicity and (relative) safety of Minnesota, but now you’d at least carry pepper spray. You’re pulled from your thoughts as you see Dawson peak from the side of the curtains. You had not felt too lonely or afraid before given the officers stationed outside your room, but seeing him made you feel better.

“Hey kiddo, how’s the neck?” he smiles, moving into the room slowly as if he was trying not to scare you.

You smile weakly, still exhausted. “Alright, considering.” You noticed tape on the base of his neck on one side extending underneath his shirt where you couldn’t see. “What happened?”

“I might be getting a little long in the tooth for tackling suspects.” And by suspects, you knew he meant your dad. He was the one who got him off you. “Are you ok?” You ask. “All good, just had to get my shoulder checked out.”

“Ok, glad you’re ok.” And you truly were. You would feel awful if you had been the reason he had been seriously injured, especially after you were supposed to be out of his hair.

He nods, fiddling with his hands on the rail at the end of your bed. “Hey, your aunt is on her way to get you, it’s gonna be awhile, but I talked to your doctor and they said they’ll keep you till she arrives to monitor your concussion.”

You nod. “My dad?”

“We got him, he’s going away for a long time.” You notice his lack of enthusiasm in that response, obviously thinking that justice had not been fully served.

“But not forever.” Your voice soft, barely over a whisper.

He shook his head. “Long enough you’re not going to need to worry about him.”

“But you’ll come rescue me again if he tries, right?” You cocked an eyebrow, knowing it wasn’t a promise he could make, but every reassuring thing he told you made you feel better anyways.

“As much as I love the job, I don’t know if I’m going to be on the force in 40 years.”

“Yeah, you might not be able to a shoot a gun while using a walker with tennis balls on the bottom.” The two of you laugh a bit at that visualization.

As you quiet down you notice he looks a bit more serious.“But yeah, I’ll get you.”

Once again, probably against some protocol, but you just had to reach out and hug him burying your face in his leather jacket. He leans forward to pull you in. Something about it was just natural, you knew he’d protect you, you knew that now.

“Thank you so much. I’d be dead.”

“Of course,” He pets your hair, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“T-thank you for caring.” He pulls back to look you in the eyes.

“I checked your record, no priors since you left. Thank you for being worth it.” He smiles.

The two of you sit there for a minute, staring at each other, his hand still the (good) side of your head. You’d never really had a dad moment like this, but if this was the first and last dad moment you ever had, you were ok with it. It was perfect. He stands up, stretching out his back as if he’s about to leave. But instead, he pulls up a chair.

“You don’t mind if I stick around till your aunt arrives do you?”

You gently shook your head. Truth was, you were too afraid to ask him to do so, but of course, somehow, he knew what you needed. So there the two of you sat. Talking about the extremely normal things you had been involved in back in Minnesota. You swear he kept a small smile on his face the entire time. Just happy to see you moving on. It was done.

When you turned 18, you reached out the Antonio again and asked if he would be willing to meet up for lunch, now that it was “legal” to do so. And now it has become an annual event with occasional bonus trips when you somehow wind up in the Windy City. Your lives may have grown apart in distance but something would always keep the two of you together. He’d always be there for you, and you needed that. Maybe not everyone needs a perfect father figure to survive in the world, but knowing a tough boxing detective would be by your side in one phone call gave you the freedom of safety. Your aunt is an amazing woman, but Antonio Dawson is really the one who you owe everything to.

He promised, you trusted, and it was the first decision of your life that truly mattered.

A/N: I know my presence on this account is sporadic, but I hope some people enjoy this. I’m going to dive into my drafts to work on some of the partially written responses I have for some old requests. (:

#antonio dawson #antonio dawson x reader #Chicago PD #one chicago #antonio dawson imagines #antonio dawson imagine #antonio dawson baby #fanfiction #fandom #fanfic

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slimepuparibaba · 4 years ago

Text

ChiLumi | Hidden Meaning

Okay, so, basically, this takes place in between the Archon missions and before Golden House.

I'm gonna leave bullet points just cuz it's easier that way and I'm so bad at writing. I might make a fic of it later though if enough people want me to XD

There might be some additional parts to this too cuz I wanna put in detail how the Golden House fight went down, how Childe's story mission worked, and every other ChiLumi headcanon after that so yeah.

They may be a bit OOC but this is how I imagine it playing out

So we're clear, Childe has used his charms to woo over many to gain information for the Fatui. He sees Lumine slightly falling for him so he decides to use this to his advantage no one tell the boy he is in love yet, he refuses to believe it

Childe invites Lumine out to run some errands around Liyue. His excuse? The group is running out of food and needs to cook up some more stuff for their future adventures.

His conditions? Everyone else must stay behind, including Paimon. Paimon says no to this, obviously, since she hasn't left Lumine's side.

Lumine, however, says yes.

Most of the team is heavily against this outing, but Kaeya, Barbara, Chongyun, and Xiangling seem to be on Lumine's side, letting her go and convince the rest to let Childe and Lumine do as they please. (Side note: Kaeya and Barbara are huge playing factors in this entire ChiLumi saga)

Childe and Lumine start wandering around Liyue and stop by the beach, where Lumine starts picking up some starconches behind Childe's back

She hands it over and says it's a gift for him. When he asks why, she says she wants to try and convince Childe to join them on their adventure.

Lumine isn't dumb; she knew Childe did this to try and squeeze info out of her, hence why she accepted. However, she decided that she wants to try and convince Childe to leave the Fatui and switch sides.

Childe isn't convinced, obviously, and says that he is her enemy--she can't expect him to switch sides that easily, could she? Especially not when he's made it clear that he, Tartaglia, the 11th Harbinger, wants to conquer the world!

Lumine, however, begs to differ

"How about we make a deal?" She asks. "I'll take you sightseeing around Liyue Harbor while we run errands. I want you to take a good look this time and see the people of Liyue not as people you collect debt from, not as people you need to defeat, nor as people you need to conquer. I want you to see the as people with families and lives, living their days out peacefully... as your average human being, like you or me. If you can do that, at least consider leaving the Fatui, okay?"

Childe scoffs, saying that he'll only take the deal because he knows it won't work. Lumine shoves the starconch into his hands and pulls him along, smiling sweetly. His heart slightly flutters but this stupid idiot thinks the world is black and white and he can't be in love with the enemy so he ignores it.

Lumine starts heading to some stalls and buying some food, sharing it with Childe. He states that he's already done this before, but she wants him to experience it from a different point of view. She leads him to Wanmin Restaraunt and the two feast.

Childe doesn't know why, but for some reason, the food tastes a bit better than when he tasted it the first time he came to Liyue. He looks to Lumine, who's enjoying every bite, and softly smiles.

After paying, she continues dragging him everywhere. To drink tea, to hear stories, or to even watch kids fly kites (and even convince him to fly a kite with her)

Then, they get to the middle of Yujing Terrace

Childe was having a great time so far and was almost forgetting that he was supposed to be dragging out information from her, but when they got to the scene where the Exuvia was supposed to be, where the crime scene had taken place days earlier, he remembered that he was a Fatui. What was he doing, having fun without getting his job done? He needed to get that Gnosis, after all, from Rex Lapis' corpse.

Lumine leads him to one of the altars and says that even if the Rite of Decension is no more, she still wants to make a wish with him. Childe is amused that she would do such a thing and agrees.

She lights the incense stick and lights the altar, making her wish. Childe starts to question her.

"Y'know... I would like to know what you wished for, Oujo-chan. Convince me that the Tsaritsa is wrong about this whole thing... that the world shouldn't be our enemy and that there's still hope."

Childe was expecting Lumine to turn him down, but she answered with her wish.

"...I want to be reunited with someone special to me. We were always attached to the hip whenever we traveled together, and even if we parted ways, I knew where to meet him. I knew where to go. But I lost him... and I'm so scared. I wake up in the middle of the night because I keep seeing nightmares where he walks away from me and I can never reach him."

She has a sad look in her eyes as she keeps continuing.

"If anything, I just want to see him again and know he's safe... and, along the way, maybe gather up more friends. I want to have the people of Teyvat united and happy together... if I can gather more people together, I'd like that... we can go hunt for treasure, solve puzzles, discover ruins, fight ruins... all while trying to find our own goals, we can come together, as a family."

Childe smiled at her answer, and when Lumine asked what he wished for, he hesitantly answered. He began to murmur, searching for the right words, but all he could come up with was the answer he knew all around him expected from him.

"...to become stronger and... conquer the world...?"

He sounded unsure, because he was. Lumine didn't pick up on that and just laughed, saying that sounded so like him. But, truth was, he was conflicted on his wish.

In truth, he wanted a resolve like Lumine.

He wished someone would tell him that he doesn't need to constantly fight and bring chaos.

He wished someone would treat him as a friend, or even as family, unlike the Fatui, who either despised him with their entire being or feared him, whether out of respect or their sheer will to survive in the Fatui.

He wished someone would tell him it's okay to feel vulnerable--that the world was okay, and that he can live as a person. Not as a Harbinger, not as a Fatui...

He wished someone would tell him that he can protect those he loves without constantly destroying others who are loved by their own families.

He looked to Lumine, who started gazing at the stars above and realized one thing and one thing only:

He wished that Lumine would tell him that he isn't alone anymore.

The next day, when Lumine woke up, Childe handed her a bouquet of Windwheel Asters.

When Lumine asked why, Childe brushed it off as telling her to get stronger for their upcoming battle.

Deep inside, though, those weren't Childe's true intentions. In fact, what he meant to say was this:

"When that fateful day comes, beat me... make me change sides. Become so strong that I have no choice but to listen to you."

"Prove to me that I'm a monster worth saving."

my heart aches for these two, because childe in this entire storyline is literally trying to convince himself that he can't switch sides and he's already gone too far deep to be saved

honey plz lumine is trying to show u that you're just like anyone else. you don't need to conquer the world to protect those you love oh my gOD

#chilumi #genshin impact #headcanon #genshin childe #childe #lumine #genshin traveler #genshin #angst #genshin angst #just pure and utter angst #childe for fucks sake please switch sides lumine didn't say it verbally but she loves you #yes lumine loves childe #she didn't say it verbally but she loves him #childe goddammit why are you so stuBBORN #plz excuse my bad writing hahahahahahaha #tartaglia

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madpanda75 · 5 years ago

Text

“Taking Chances Part Six: You’re Invited”

After busting the reader and Rafael, Sonny tries to take matters into his own hands.

Sonny sat at his desk, trying to finish up a police report, but instead all he could do was watch the cursor flash on his laptop screen. The usually happy-go-lucky detective had been in a bad mood all week. He couldn’t shake the thought of you and Rafael. Together. It was his idea of a living nightmare.

One thing Sonny had learned while working at SVU was to keep his work life and private life separate. He was close to his family. He was close to his squad. The last thing he needed was for those two groups to mingle. Working with special victims, it was hard not to bring your work home with you. Sonny knew Rafael struggled with that as well. He didn’t want that for you. He didn’t want you sitting alone at a table set for two while Rafael was working late on a case. He didn’t want you to deal with the nightmares, the horrific images, the scenes they witnessed everyday.

Sonny had seen firsthand how this job affected personal relationships. He saw it on the day Mike Dodds died. Mike’s fiancé, Alice, was heartbroken, having lost the love of her life. What if that was you? Rafael had made some powerful enemies and it wasn’t too long ago when the ADA had several threats made on his own life. What if something happened to Rafael and you were the one left alone or worse, what if something were to happen to you. Sonny would never forgive himself. You just didn’t understand. You couldn’t. Sonny had hidden that part of his life, wanting to protect you.

Amanda woke the detective up from his reverie, placing a macchiato on his desk after going out for a coffee run. “So you never told us what happened to your eye,” she teased while doling out the rest of the beverages. “Did Barba finally punch you cause he was getting tired of you asking to shadow him again?”

“Nothing happened. I ran into a glass window,” Sonny lied.

“Really? Cause it looks like you ran into someone’s fist.” Amanda got closer and inspected Sonny’s nose.

“Speaking of Barba,” Fin chimed in from his desk. “I saw him the other day. The man actually smiled at me and not one of those little half-ass grins of his, but an actual smile.”

“Yeah, I stopped by his office and caught him flirting on the phone with someone,” Amanda said.

Fin swiveled around in his chair, nearly choking on his frappuccino. “Flirting?!”

Amanda nodded and took a sip of her latte. “The minute he saw me. He started blushing and immediately hung up.” She leaned on Fin’s desk and lowered her voice. “And I could’ve sworn I saw a hickey peeking out from under his collar.”

Fin laughed and shook his head in disbelief. “Aw man, it’s official. Barba is definitely getting some.”

Sonny slammed his hands on the desk and stood up. “He isn’t getting anything! There is nothin’ to get! And even if there was, I would hope Barba would treat the woman like the queen she is!!”

Sonny blushed and looked around the room at everyone’s shocked faces. The bullpen was silent with the exception of the sound of Fin’s straw as he slurped his frothy coffee drink.

Having heard the commotion, Olivia came out of her office. “Something you care to share with the rest of us, Sonny?”

“It’s nothing,” Sonny mumbled and sat down, returning to his police report.

Olivia quirked a brow. “Well then since it’s nothing. Why don’t you head over to Barba’s office. He has our warrant for the DNA swabs.” Sonny didn’t budge, simply staring at his computer screen, his hands balled into fists at the mention of the ADA’s name. “That’s an order, detective,” she sternly said.

“Copy that, lieutenant.” Sonny replied, grabbing his coat and stomping away.

“What the hell was that all about?” Fin asked once Sonny had left.

Amanda shrugged. “Beats me, but it’s definitely not nothing.”

*****

Sonny steeled himself in front of Rafael’s door before delivering three sharp knocks.

“Come in,” he heard the ADA call out.

Rafael sat at his desk, furiously writing notes on a legal pad, barely glancing up as Sonny walked into his office. “What is it, Carisi?”

“Liv sent me over to pick up that warrant for the DNA swabs. Ya’ got it or not?” The clipped tone of Sonny’s voice caused Rafael to drop his pen. He glared at the detective and handed over the warrant before resuming his work.

Sonny stood there for a moment, tilting his head as he looked over Rafael. He had never noticed how old the ADA really was—the graying hair, the deep lines etched into his face. Were those crow’s feet around his eyes?

On top of all the reasons Sonny could think of as to why you and Rafael should not be together, the age factor was by far the biggest. You had just turned thirty and Rafael had to be in his mid to late forties. The detective knew that there was only one thing a man wanted from a woman who was about 15 years his junior .

Sensing eyes on him, Rafael glanced up from his work and caught Sonny observing him. “What?” He snapped.

“How old are ya’?”

Rafael huffed out a laugh. “I beg your pardon?”

“What like 46? 47?”

“You’re out of line, detective. I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” Rafael arched a brow, his already tested patience wearing thin.

Sonny scoffed and crossed his arms. “Actually, you’re seducing my baby sister, so technically it is.”

“Technically”—Rafael got up and walked around his desk to square off with Sonny, the two men standing toe to toe—“it’s between me and Y/N. She’s the one I’m in a relationship with, not you.”

“C’mon, Rafael. Look at you and look at her. Do ya’ really think you can make her happy?” Sonny shook his head in disgust. “All these years we’ve worked together. Never took ya’ for a cradle robber,” he sneered.

“Careful, Carisi,” Rafael growled with his jaw clenched, nostrils flaring out. “I punched you once. I can do it again.”

“I’d like to see ya’ try.” Sonny leaned in. “Hope the dry cleaners can get the blood out of your Zegna suit.”

Right before it came to blows, there was a soft knock on the door “Hey, Raf?” You poked your head into his office to find your brother and boyfriend. “Oh good, you’re both here.” You stepped inside, carrying two gift bags. “Is this a bad time?”

“No,” Rafael said.

“Yes,” Sonny said at the same time, his eyes never leaving the ADA.

“Ohhhhhkay,” you replied. The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“Come in, querida.” Rafael led you inside, your presence instantly calming him.

You gave your brother a hug before moving to Rafael, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He took you by surprise and cupped your face, deepening the kiss. Sonny awkwardly stood there, rolling his eyes while you both continued to play tonsil hockey.

You eventually pulled away, your cheeks flushed pink. “Wow,” you breathed, about to start kissing Rafael once more when Sonny cleared his throat to get your attention.

“Y/N, did ya’ need something? I have to get this warrant to my boss.”

You sighed. “Ma called me this morning and since someone”—you smacked your brother on the arm—“spilled the beans about me and Rafael. She invited us all over for church and then a big Carisi family lunch this Sunday.”

“Wait, we ALL have to go?!” Sonny groaned

“Yes and we’re ALL going to behave.” You shot both men a warning look.

Rafael’s pulse began to quicken. He knew that eventually he would have to meet your parents, he just didn’t expect it to be so soon. “Really, Y/N? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“It’s too late. Ma’s already trying to get tomatoes flown in from Naples for her marinara sauce. So as an incentive for you two to get along for one evening. I come bearing gifts.” You handed Rafael and Sonny each a gift bag.

Sonny eyed the bag suspiciously. “This feels like a bribe.”

“That’s because it is a bribe,” you replied with an innocent smile.

“Fine. I’ll see ya’ Sunday,” Sonny grumbled and gave you a hug.

“Mass starts at 10:30.” You straightened his jacket and waved goodbye as he was leaving.

Rafael leaned back against his desk and dangled the bag in front of you. “So do I get to open my present now or do I have to wait until Sunday?”

“Hmmmm.” You steepled your hands and rested them against your chin. “You can open it now, but it’s really only part of your gift.”

You watched him reach into the bag and pull out a box of cannolis from Antonio’s bakery.

“Thanks.” He took out a cannoli and a napkin. “Is coffee the next part of my gift?”

Your eyes widened and you smacked the Italian dessert out of Rafael’s hands. “Oh no, that’s the wrong present.” You grabbed the box and ran to catch up with your brother. “Sonny, wait! Don’t open the—”

Sonny was already there by the time you opened the door. His face beet red.

“Box,” you quietly said.

“Too late,” he muttered and swapped presents with you before storming off.

You cringed and quietly shut the door. “That was embarrassing.”

Rafael couldn’t help but chuckle at the look on Carisi’s face. “Must be one hell of a present.”

“I’ll let you be the judge of that.” With a nonchalant shrug, you walked back over to him. Placing the box on his desk, you gingerly opened it and pulled out a sheer black lace corset detailed with emerald green silk. “I just earned a big commission and decided to splurge at Bordelle. What do you think?” You held the lingerie up to your body. The corset complimented your curves and featured a plunging shelf bra that barely covered your breasts.

Rafael licked his lips, envisioning your hard nipples straining against the fabric. “Mierda. Eres una tremenda manguita,” he purred.

You gave yourself a mental high five for picking out the outfit. Apart from the occasional pet name, Rafael only spoke Spanish to you either when he was extremely turned on or whenever you were making love.

He reached out to touch you, only to have you slap his hand away. “Ah ah ah, not so fast, counselor. You only get this if you behave on Sunday. That means no punching my brother.”

Rafael nodded and circled you like a predator does his prey before stopping to face you, his nose barely brushing up against yours. “So just to be clear, if I’m good on Sunday. You’ll wear this.” He motioned towards the lingerie you had pressed up against you. “And as a reward I get to touch you here.” Brushing your hair back, he placed a kiss right below your ear.

“Y-Y-Yes,” you whispered in a shaky voice.

“Well, what about here.” He dropped another kiss on the hollow of your throat, grinning like the cat who ate the canary when he saw goosebumps begin to erupt on your skin.

“Mmmhmm.” You bit back a moan. The man had barely touched you and already a heat was beginning to pool between your legs. His lips on your flesh. The smell of his cologne. Your resolve was quickly wavering.

Glancing down at your cherry red pout, he ran his thumb across your bottom lip. “And what about”—his other hand skimmed under your skirt, dragging his fingertips up your inner thigh, tracing your slit with a single digit through your lace panties—“here.”

You gasped at his touch, allowing him the chance to kiss you hard, his tongue snaking into your mouth. Surrendering to the moment, you clutched his shirt as your mouth moved fervently over his, the corset falling to the floor. He stopped and looked down at the silk and lace at your feet before meeting your gaze. “Whoops, looks like you’re not wearing it anymore,” he said with a devious smirk.

“You’re terrible, counselor.” You ghosted your lips over his and arched your hips, pressing up against his growing erection.

His eyes darkened and a low growl rumbled from his chest. In an instant, he had you up on his desk and flat on your back. “I’ve been called much worse,” he teased in a husky voice and captured your mouth with his once more.

*****

With the correct present now in his hand, Sonny headed to the elevators only to stop in his tracks when he thought you may need a ride to the gallery. He walked back to Rafael’s office and froze when he heard your soft moans coming from the room followed by a muffled groan from Rafael.

Sonny made a face and quickly retreated back to the hallway. First the lingerie and then hearing his baby sister having sex again, he was in desperate need of a Silkwood shower and a stiff drink. To make matters worse, his plan of telling your parents about you and Rafael seemed to backfire. He was hoping they would freak out and call you to try to talk some sense into you. But instead, it looked like they were welcoming Rafael into the family with open arms. What was next? Picking out china patterns? His Ma giving you Nonna’s wedding dress to wear on the big day?

Sonny realized that he had to be the one to break you both up and he knew exactly how to do it. Pulling out his cell phone, he made a quick call. The phone rang for several seconds before a voice on the other end answered. “Sonny? You sonofabitch, how are ya’?”

“Hey Theo. I know it’s been awhile. Say, how would you like to come over on Sunday to my folks’ place for lunch. Y/N is gonna be there and I’d know she’d love to see ya’.” As Sonny continued to talk to your ex-fiancé, a wave of guilt washed over him, knowing that he shouldn’t be meddling in your love life. But he tried to suppress it, confident that you would thank him later.

@glimmerglittergirl @southern-magnolia @sweetcannolicarisi @delia26 @obfuscateyummy @sass-and-suspenders @eclecticminded @thatesqcrush @katmstanton @amirightcounsellor @beltzboys2015-blog @letty-o @sonnysdoll @lyssa1385 @sweetsummertime99 @burningsorr0ws @gibbs274 @izzythefanfreak @riodallas @babypink224221 @livxrafa @esparza-army @obsessionprofessional @ottosuricato @melsquared79 @dreila03 @frenchiefoxy @tropes-and-tales @thecraziestcrayon @goodluckfindingone @scarlettsoldier @amirightcounselor @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii @graniairish @ashley-chi @imjustreallynosy @lolacolaempath @cocomel0613

#rafael barba #rafael barba fanfic #rafael barba fic #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba fan fiction #barba #barba fanfic #barba fic #barba imagine #barba x reader #law and order svu fanfic #law and order svu imagine #taking chances

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thomasrekowicz · 4 years ago

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The Spirit - The Maw - Endgame

By the end of the game, we have a very loose interpretation of what happens to Thomas after his supposed face-off with the Maw. The end credits scene leads on the idea that Thomas is still well and alive within the spirit world--this could either be a reference to his actual form passing through to the other side in search of the Spirit, or the Spirit having survived enough to escape the interaction. I have a few thoughts wriggling about on the subject of Thomas and the Maw’s interactions as a whole, but for the sake of interactions I will be going with the possibility of the creature barely bothering with the Spirit to begin with.

Hypothesis: Disconnection

- To something as ravenous as the Maw, a Spirit without the connection to its host isn’t something that poses nearly as much a threat nor would it have quite as much sustainability as a full strength medium; when Henry cut the Spirit off from Thomas, he successfully suppressed a good amount of power from both sides. While the two may have had a turbulent relationship, they still had a heavy reliance on one another and found strength in their togetherness, no matter how much Thomas prefers to ignore that fact--the Spirit was what helped him through the laboratories and tests, it protected him and provided companionship where he could find nothing else for years, it showed Thomas something more than the tiny world he was trapped in. That, eventually leading to the manipulation of Thomas from his sense of survival and an on-and-off again utilization of the bond, formed a twisted sort of strength in one another.

Henry had trained himself enough to flip the script on a man so used to using someone’s own trauma and vulnerability to destroy them and effectively used the very same tactic on Thomas, but he didn’t have the ability to send off someone’s spirit wholly. When the Spirit was trapped, it was humbled. It got to experience the other side of the coin from Thomas’ perspective. Now he was in a place he couldn’t escape, but this time there was no Other to help--it was a fate designed to directly parallel what they had already experienced with the outcome that had always been the plan. Stuck. Used. Tormented. Alone. When the Spirit is free and can no longer feel Thomas in the real world, there’s dread and pain in that realization. While he still had the power of an otherworldly being, it had been that connection to Thomas that had been the motivational factor--it was his drive, his objective, his survival, his link to something other than the cold decay of the spirit realm. And, while he spoke of Thomas as his own being, there was still that kinship of intermingling emotion. If he could not exist for Thomas, he would for the next best thing--his kin.

Hypothesis : The Maw & Endgame (Continuation Inclined Ending)

- What use is a spirit without a host? It cannot be manipulated to reach the outside. It is little else than a husk, something to be consumed but already half rotten, ill sustaining and against what the Maw needs to survive on its already dwindling influence on the outside world. Why, then, would it bother to use precious reserves of energy to eliminate a smaller threat in the wake of something even more daunting: the possibility of an entire destruction of the self. The Spirit could send away Marianne to where she needed to be and provide a distraction, but channeling that energy without a steady foundation is draining enough on something already weakened. There is no doubt that he would have attempted impeding the Maw’s path to Marianne for as long as he could manage ( even at the cost of his existence ) but all the research in the world does not compare to an actual battle with something to powerful.

And, at the end of the day, no matter how evil and disturbed it is, and as much as it is something the Spirit would relish in the sheer amount of emotion it brings, it is connected to Lily. And, as was said, Thomas could never bring himself to harm his own daughter.

Ultimately, the Spirit did nothing. He made what distraction he could--likely blew a few fuses, blocked enough paths to cause issue for the Maw to have a clear shot to the lake, used what amount of energy could be spared to bother it enough to give chase, but the Spirit has only known survival, and those roots are hard to shake. Thomas thrived heavily on emotion and would give his life in an instant for his daughters. The Spirit, more reason inclined, knew he would be more useful alive. So he fought with as much as he could spare, and retreated when the damage began to grow too great.*

*I do not have a specific ‘canon’ ending that I will be basing interactions off of--the Spirit’s retreat (instead of a full commitment to self-sacrifice that the devs probably meant to be the case) is strictly for the sake of having something to work off of with writing. The same goes for the ambiguity of the ending as a whole. There will be three possibilities I will work off of with Thomas and any can be requested: Marianne chose herself, thus cutting off Maw’s ability to realize outside possession to escape. Marianne chose Lily, finally putting an end to a nightmare that had gone on for far too long, but at the sacrifice of the family she had only just found. Or, Thomas finally taking the bullet and fulfilling Lilianne’s desire himself thus sparing Marianne the agony of the decision/the possibility of more bloodshed at the hands of manifested evil, as agonized as the choice would leave him.

#the medium spoilers #spoilers #do not reblog #headcanons tag.#honestly i do think ST was willing to sacrifice everything for her but then what would i write smh

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pebblerage · 5 years ago

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Original Freddy & Remake Freddy: A Comparison (Sneak Peek)

So this is a little project I have wanted to do for quite a while now, and because it is the 10 year anniversary for the the NOES remake (kind of, it has two release dates for the US for some reason) I wanted to post something Elm Street related. I won’t be able to dedicate my time into completing this now because of school so this will most likely be done during summer when I am finally done with university (yay!). I hope you may find this interesting at least.

Just for your information this little comparison is DEFINITELY not finished and I expect you to find at least one error in this. But like I said this is just a little sneak peek that may or may not tickle your fancy. I chose the part where I list up points regarding their dreamworld powers and such because it was the most finished section, but in the final version other aspects of the two Freddies will be brought up - like backstory and personality.

I would be very happy if you guys have some suggestions on interviews that discusses either Freddy. I don’t tend to watch interviews very often so I’m not very good at scouting out ones that could be useful here. My main sources for this are the movies, scripts and interviews - but some other sources will also pop up like comics and such. I will go into a bit more detail on why I chose some sources over others in the final product. I am trying to be as objective as I can in this, but there is going to be some speculative parts as well.

Part 4: The Dreamworld & Powers

Acquiring of their power

Original

In part 6 of the original series, its revealed that Freddy met the so called “Dream Demons” as the parents were burning him alive. They offered him the chance to “be forever” which Freddy accepts and gives him his dream powers.

Remake

Its unknown if the Dream Demons exist in the remake continuity, leaving it ambiguous as to how exactly remake Freddy gains all of his dream-related abilities.

His power in Dead By Daylight is called “Dream Demon” however, which could indicate that the Dream Demons might still be involved. Or Freddy just became one on his own through sheer anger alone.

Power Sources

Original

Original Freddy seems to have three main sources of power:

People knowing about him

Fear

Souls

Knowing about him and fearing him seems to be what allows him to attack his victims, while souls are a power booster. The souls are stored in Freddy’s stomach which causes their faces to appear there.

Remake

Remake Freddy explicitly mentions to Nancy towards the end of the movie that “your memories are what fuels me”. It seems to be his equivalent to Original’s source of “knowing him” mentioned above. Its unknown if this is exclusive to the Badham kids’ memories or not.

Its unknown if Remake gains anything out of fear or if he can collect souls. Although him hanging his victims up on the walls as we see in Jesse’s dream might be his more realistic “equivalent” of soul collecting.

Amount of Power & Usage

Original

Ever since the first movie, Original has showcased that he likes to use his powers in imaginative ways to make his kills a bit more of a spectacle. His kills varies from regular slashing to transforming himself, the scenery or his current victim to squeeze out as much fun for himself and fear from the sufferer as possible. He usually prays on his victim’s fears or interests to get some inspiration.

Original was already a killer prior to death and was thus already familiar with the less fantastical methods of murder. This could have been a mild encouragement for him to start incorporating his abilities quicker to spice the kills up.

If he gets pulled out he looses most of his powers. In the first film seems to have lost all of them, while in part 6 he retains some like running on walls - a possible indicator of his accumulation of power over the course of the series.

His amount of powers does get quite chaotic in other media, like in Freddy’s Nightmares in which he basically becomes the god of Springwood.

Remake

Compared to Original, Remake Freddy is quite traditional when it comes down to killing tactics. Preferring to use his claws to draw blood instead of turning them into paper or a cockroach, causing a blood geyser or even extending his arms. At most he seems to change the scenery, like making it snow. The most “fantastical” he gets with his abilities is with his attack on Kris, making her flail around in the air akin to Tina in the original. Because of this, one might wonder if he has a lower amount of powers then original or if he just chooses not to use them.

Inexperience might be a factor. If one takes in the alternate opening into account it is shown that while Remake is burned during the 90s, he truly dies in the year 2010. This gives him less time to experiment with his abilities then original who had about a decade between his death and when the first movie starts.

Remake was also, as far as we know, not a killer prior to his death like original was. Because of this, killing was a new thing for him and was decently satisfying. Had he gotten the trilogy originally planed he might've gotten the idea to play around with his abilities during his kills like Original likes to do.

His lower usage of dream abilities might be a stylistic choice done to reflect the more serious, darker, realistic tone the remake was going for.

Like Original, he too looses his powers if pulled out of the dreamworld.

Range & Restrictions

Original

Original Freddy seems to has two main restrictions when it comes to his range. This means that he, under normal circumstances, can only attack individuals who are:

Related to his past (specifically the offspring of the parents that burned him)

Live in Springwood (can’t attack people outside of it)

Under movie 1,3 and in the beginning of 4 his main restriction is the former one. By killing Kristen he would’ve put himself in a corner had she not passed her “pull people into my dream” power over through Freddy to Alice. This gave him access to Alice and subsequently people she would pull into the dreamworld.

During part 5 Freddy also tries to use Alice’s unborn son’s dreams to attack others. He probably got to Jacob through his connection with Alice.

By the time of part 6, he has found a way to circumvent this restriction without Alice or Jacob. How he achieves this is unclear, but now the latter restriction is Freddy’s main limiter range-wise.

Other media, like comics, seems to usually ignore the former restriction and let Freddy attack anyone in Springwood, following the second restriction.

Remake

Remake Freddy definitely lacks the “Springwood-only” restriction, as we learn in the movie, all the Badham Kids who had moved away from Springwood had already been killed by the time Nancy tries to contact them. Some of them had even left the state of Ohio, like Lisa Harper who lived in Dallas, Texas and Marcus Yeon in New York. By the end Nancy and Quentin are the sole living Badham Kids.

The date of the article Nancy reads to learn about Lisa’s death says it was “published: 1 day ago”, which indicates that Remake Freddy was going after all the Badham kids around the same time, no matter where they lived.

It is possible that Remake might have a “ people related to his past” restriction like original as he’s never shown attacking anyone who lacks a relation to him. On the other hand, it might be a goal-related limitation rather then a power-related one. He is very focused on his revenge against the Badham Kids and might simply not care about attacking random people.

#A Nightmare on Elm Street #A Nightmare on Elm Street 2010 #Freddy Krueger #Robert Englund #Jackie Earle Haley #Sneak Peek #ANOES #Slasher stuff #Gee has it really been 10 years since the remake came out?

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slxyangel · 5 years ago

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You Knew (Nikki Sixx x Reader)

Summary: You feel the urge to save Nikki from one of his biggest demons. Or at least help him carry the weight.

Wordcount: 2.2 k.

Warnings: Angst, alcohol, nightmares, swearing (as always).

A/N: The Dirt setting. // @ohhludo deserves the entire world, but I'm only a fic writer so I provide the best I can, which is a personalized tag. Thanks for the support bby ♡

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

Masterlist: https://slxyangel.tumblr.com/post/189625800403/masterlist

You woke up to the sound of a closing door. Your mouth was dry, your stomach queasy and your mind numb thanks to the slumber and the hungover. Tour nights were horrible, but mornings were even worse. Well, better said, afternoons, because it was probably after five p.m. by now. With your eyes still closed you turned around in the hotel bed to place your right arm on Nikki's lap, but on his side of the mattress, instead of him, all you found was a bunch of wrinkled, still warm sheets.

You opened your eyes to confirm that, as you thought, your boyfriend was nowhere to be found. Sure, that must have been the closing door. With a resigned sigh you hug his pillow and inhaled his scent. If it didn't fully wake you up you would at least have something nice to cling to in your hangover-zombie phase.

You had spent almost two weeks tagging along he band on the american leg of their Theatre of Pain tour, right before Christmas break. You had showed up as a surprise the day after Nikki's 27th birthday and you guys were now in Florida for the last show of the year. After ten days of sheer whipping; concerts, flights, parties, drugs and general excess the guys were fresh as a daisy, but you felt destroyed. Anyway, you were aware that was the price to pay if you wanted to savor the last period with your boyfriend before he flew to Europe for almost two months.

With the sluggishness of a corpse, because that's basically what you were, you got up from the bed and went straight to the bathroom to wash your face. You were surprised that after a show night Nikki had woken up on his own, without Doc having to come and drag him out of the bedroom, but if he had done it, it was most likely to go to the buffet. You would never understand how, after downing gallons of alcohol, he was always that hungry.

Planning to join him in his breakfast session, you put on the first of his t-shirts you found and a pair of jeans you wore the day before. There was no point in searching for clean clothes; it was the last day of tour, so there probably weren't any. And if there were, you wouldn't find them in the middle of that mess. You went out to the corridor and walked towards the elevator, but right before stepping in you heard someone screaming in the hall downstairs, followed by the sound of broken glass.

Your blood froze in your veins.

The lift took its sweet time going down while the yelling became louder, and you were frantic. You would recognize that voice anywhere. As soon as you got off the elevator, which led straight to the hall, you came across a 50 year old skinny woman with copper hair and strangely familiar green eyes. She looked at you with a scared expression for less than a second. A few meters to your left, right next to the hotel's main door, Nikki's voice sounded crystal clear.

- … WHO WOULDN'T BE STANDING THERE RIGHT NOW UNLESS YOU WERE GETTING SOMETHING OUT OF IT, SO JUST FUCK OFF, DOC. YOU'RE FUCKING FIRED.

You broke the eye contact with that woman and stormed past her, running across the hall, chasing after Nikki who had just gone out, full on ballistic mode. Doc was standing there, looking half confused, half hurt. Without stopping in your tracks, you gave him a look that said “What the fuck is going on?”, but you already knew. You were achingly sure.

Once you were out in the street, you ran covering the 20 meters that separated you from your boyfriend. You reached him and, without saying a word nor stopping your steps, you held his left hand. He was visibly tense. Actually, he was fuming, so you knew better than to talk to him. In contact with your hand, he automatically pulled away his.

- Go away - he said, visibly altered.

- Nope - you answered firmly.

- I’m serious, Y/N, go the fuck away - you could tell he was actively trying to bite his tongue.

- I said no. I’m not leaving you alone, Nikki. I'm not going to touch you, I'm not going to talk to you, you're not even going to realize I am here, but I’m not leaving you alone. So keep walking.

And he did. He didn’t slow down, but he didn’t insist either. You were both pretty stubborn, and in your relationship he won some battles and you won some others. This was going to be one of the latter. He was really quiet, eyes fixed ahead, between a certain spot and no spot at all, clenched jaw and heavy breathing. You managed to keep up the pace, without touching him, without looking at him, without comforting him, as much as your guts were aching for it, because the last thing you wanted was to pull him further away. You restricted yourself to stayimg beside him for a long while, as you both walked aimlessly through the unknown streets of Florida.

You had been dating Nikki for nearly two years, you had been through ups and downs, through thick and thin, and you were the person he felt most comfortable with since long ago, he made sure to repeat that to you ad nauseam. He had told you practically everything about his life: you knew about his father, you knew about his grandparents, about his problems in school, about his endless move-ins, about why and under what circumstances he had arrived to Los Angeles, and you knew about his mother. You knew how much she had neglected him since he was a kid, how she prioritized random men who hit her son just because she felt lonely, you had seen with your own eyes the way that factor had conditioned his personality and how, more often than not, he woke up in the middle of the night sweating, screaming or crying thanks to it, and you were the one who always picked up the pieces. You had also seen the wall of disgust in his eyes everytime he talked about her, and you had learned to read behind it, only to come across a well of pain so deep that the only thought of it made you feel insanely sick.

So because of and apart from this, you knew about his issues with drugs. You had lived painfully close to them. Cocaine or pills were one thing, because they could do ugly things, and you’d be lying if you said you had never tried them, especially keeping in mind who your partner was, who he was surrounded by and what they did for a living. But heroine was an entirely different level. For some time now that had become routine; day by day he did it more frequently, day by day his body generated more tolerance so day by day he increased the dose. To be fair, he always tried not to do it near you so he didn't forcefully involve you, so he saved you certain trouble, so he didn't hurt you. But at this point you weren’t sure if you preferred it like this or either you were scared that he would take those moments as his “freedom” and things flew out of control. You had already tried to talk about it more than once but, although at first he only avoided the topic, now he got defensive and angry about it, so that approach was no longer an option, especially not in that very moment. Right then and there, you needed to be extra sly if you wanted to avoid rebound effect, but you were also certain that, if he injected heroin in such a nervous breakdown, which was precisely what he intended to do, it would be a massive catastrophe. Because of this and because you knew that, with you around, he would in no way shoot up, you decided to play that ace to your advantage and stick to his ass like a limpet; you weren’t willing to lament anything else.

After a couple of minutes, when the tightness in his shoulders and in his jaw had visibly relaxed and his breathing was even, you tried again to hold his hand, gently, just so he knew that you got him, that you were there, and this time he didn’t pull away. You kept walking for a while, more slowly now.

- Was that your mother? - you broke the silence that reigned between you two.

Nikki seemed to grow more tense for a moment, but it was such a subtle detail that, if you hadn’t known him so well, you would have thought it was all your imagination. He answered after a pause.

- Yes.

And another silence. His tight lips were drawing a thin line and his green eyes never stopped looking to the front. But damn if you weren't looking at him. His features sparkled with the golden light of the sun which, at that time, was already hiding behind the buildings. The sight was breathtaking. That “Yes” had sounded blunt, dry and sharp as the blade of a knife. More than “Yes” he had said “You promised to be quiet and fucking unnoticeable, so shut your mouth if you don’t want to be cold-bloodly murdered right here”. In fact, more than that, he had said “For God’s sake don’t make me go back into that matter, because I don’t know if I’m going to be able to come out again”. You couldn’t stand seeing him this upset, this disturbed. This was his tour, his moment, his dream, this was his last Christmas with you before flying to Europe, these were supposed to be his golden days, but instead she had to appear and turn them grey. You were infuriated.

- You know - you started talking almost before realizing it - I just find it funny how, after I-don’t-know-how-many years, she must have turned on her TV, seen her son giving an interview and signing autographs, and her vicious little mind has decided it was acceptable to show up with a Christmas sweater and a hug, as if that would redeem her. She can’t do that, that is simply not okay. What was she thinking? That setting a trap with your manager and appearing without a warning, without even making sure you were okay with that, thanks to some magical elves she was going to reunite the family for dinner? She has no, and I mean it, NO right at all. She doesn’t get to make that decision, that’s solely and exclusively on you. If you want to see her, if you want to talk to her then great, perfect, absolutely amazing. Actually, I’ll be the one knotting your tie and cooking stuffed turkey for the feast even if I have to learn the recipe and might end up setting the kitchen on fire, I don’t care, I’d be thrilled. But there lies the difference, you have to be the one who decides it, not her. She can’t impose that on you. So you have every right to be pissed, and I came to be pissed next to you.

Suddenly and for the first time since you left the hotel, Nikki stopped, so your hands separated. When you turned around to see him he looked surprised. His head, slightly turned to the right, was showing a confused but somehow funny expression. He looked like he didn’t know how to say what he wanted to say.

- What? - you couldn’t hide the traces of anger still dripping off of you after your speech.

- Wow - he stated. - When you came after me in the hotel I already visualized that you were going to lecture me. I don’t know, I thought you were, as always, coming to play the pacifier, to intercede for the sake of her or for the sake of how long it has been or for the sake of it being Christmas. I didn’t expect… this reaction.

Now it was you who looked at him with a funny expression. Smiling, you covered the few steps that separated you from him, held his hand again and you resumed your walk together.

- Then you barely even know me. - he snorted, subtly shaking his head for himself.

- Says the one who just hinted I, Nikki fucking Sixx, would wear a tie.

You were glad you had managed to make him laugh, and the fact that he was in the mood for jokes gave you hope. Then, as if the universe wanted to do you a favor, you saw an IHOP around the corner, and a lightbulb appeared in your mind.

- As I said, I came here to be pissed next to you. But let me tell you something: one can be perfectly pissed while having pancakes for breakfast. Or dinner. I don’t know what time it is, with this whole thing the clock was the last of my worries. What do you think?

As a response his stomach dedicated its most audible roar to you, so that was it. Like you deduced, Nikki hadn’t eaten a single thing since the day started, so his habitual post-party ferocious appetite was the weak spot that most easily would redirect him back to a better mindset. And that was the sight; outwards, you were a young couple holding hands and going for some pancakes in a Christmas afternoon, pretty idyllic, like an advertisement. And inwards… well, inwards you were exactly the same but with a hangover, mommy issues and pissed together.

#nikki x reader #nikki sixx x reader #nikkisixx #nikki sixx #thedirtmovie #the dirt motley crue #douglas booth #angst #motley crue imagine #imagine #motley crue #one shot #oneshot #fan fic

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nouru-vi · 5 years ago

Photo

Here’s the WIP first chapter of an Allods fic I started working on today - WIP because it lacks a proper intro that I may or may not add later. The fic will star my characters Istharnax (pictured) and Talsa, and will deal with a custom storyline that tells how these two characters met for the first time, as well as loosely tying into the whole canon dealio with the Architects. SCP-flavoured fantasy Sovietpunk horror ahead (though there are not many specifics in this chapter yet).

"This installation is clearly experiencing major and highly concerning issues. Why have you not informed your superiors immediately?" the woman inclined her head slightly to the side, which reminded the nervous supervisor of a predatory animal. It made him even more nervous, and thus it took him just a bit longer to respond than expected.

"We have ran into some unforeseen difficulties during the experiments, and it took all our manpower to... to identify a solution. These difficulties have also caused disturbances in the Astral around us, so we could not even send messages. I was going to file a report as soon as the situation was sta- dealt with! There was no need to send an inspector after us immediately." He managed to work himself up into sounding proper indignant, and he emphasized the word inspector with perceptible distaste. One of the guards standing behind the Arisen woman made a face, shifting his gaze to the side. His expression said, "You're in for it now, buddy." The supervisor caught it, and at long last and way too late, began slowly questioning his life choices.

Istharnax's head returned slowly to its default position from its little incline. There was silence for several seconds as the piercing green points of her gaze tracked the beads of sweat beginning to run down the supervisor's forehead. When she spoke next, it wasn't in her usual way – the words entered the man's brain directly instead.

Her mental voice was in very deep contrast to the reverberating, metallic tone of her vocabulator. It was a voice that, under other circumstances, would have turned this man's legs to jelly. It was a voice that, by sheer virtue of its pitch and timbre, promised to give one the time of their life and then some, making the hearer promptly forget any and all potential concerns about this voice belonging, in fact, to a six foot tall cybernetic undead. However, what this voice now actually said only achieved the effect of burning shame and pants-wetting terror on the supervisor.

"Listen here, you pompous, insolent halfwit. I am an Occultist. I am tuned into the emotions and thoughts of those around me at all times. The amount of raw terror billowing through this installation and unceasingly echoing off the walls is making my skin crawl. I know that something horrendous has transpired, and I know that the personnel have been stumbling over themselves to muster any sort of effective response to it, let alone an appropriate one. And you, my friend, have, for some reason, been more terrified of delivering news of this disaster that transpired under your command, than of what the event may have unleashed. I would like to suggest that you relay to me, in your own words, what has been happening, before I wring it out of your monocellular brain myself like one squeezes the juice out of a fresh, ripe orange."

Through her monologue, the supervisor gradually pursed his lips, his eyes going wide as saucers as he stared at her, transfixed. He was growing aware that the faint, fixed smile of Istharnax's mask and the light of the pair of green photoreceptors drilling right into the core of his guilty soul would most definitely haunt his nightmares. Provided he lives long enough to have any, his treacherous brain added. The Arisen had not moved at all while she spoke, but now she crossed her arms and started drumming her fingers – fingers with such sharp and painful-looking claws, the supervisor noticed – on her elbow joint, the metal on metal going clickity-click-click.

The supervisor leaned back, unable to endure Istharnax's gaze any further and shifting his own to the surface of his desk. One of his hands grabbed onto the other in his lap to stop their shaking, as he slowly began to speak. "I... as you have likely been briefed, our task here is to... explore the possibilities presented by a new avenue of magitechnology... exponential mana splicing. We have determined that it has great potential for energy generation, as well as for weaponisation – it makes for a spectacularly powerful operating principle for weapons of mass destruction, in particular. That is... that was the research team's consensus for months. We have been running experiments in order to measure its exact capabilities, to refine the related technologies... it had all gone wonderfully smoothly, as you surely also know from previous reports that I had been sending very diligently." At this, he lifted his eyes again for a moment to meet the inspector's gaze, clearly hoping to see whether she considered this a mitigating circumstance. If she did, she wasn't showing it, silent and motionless again with her arms still crossed. The man sighed and continued.

"Everything was fine until nine days ago. The experiment we ran that day... suddenly reached critical mass. The system was shut down immediately, we did all we could, but... there was no stopping, and no way to prepare for, what would happen. There was a massive implosion, immediately obliterating everything within the experimental chamber. An anomaly was created. Before we could study it or assess the situation, it started slowly expanding. It consumes everything it touches, and within a few minutes, before we could realise the fact that it expands, it extended to the wall of the observation room for the chamber. The researchers present were sucked into the anomaly."

He paused, taking a deep, shuddering breath. To his surprise and utter bewilderment, an impulse entered his mind, which could only have been sent, judging by process of elimination, by Istharnax. It featured no words – instead, it felt like suddenly standing in a patch of warm spring sunlight, reassuring him and calming him down. He gave the inspector an astonished look, but the woman still did not move or say anything. Eventually, he spoke again, pushing the words out with great effort.

"Those it swallowed did not die, or disappear... we saw them again soon, once the growing anomaly had eaten through the walls into a corridor. They did not die, but... they came out broken. Wrong. In the worst sense you can imagine. Actually, imagine the worst thing you can. Got it? Okay, now put that on a factor of 10."

He leaned forward slightly with an expression of wild horror, digging his nails into the edge of his desk. "This... thing, is a hole in reality. A bottomless hole, where even the most essential rules of our world break down. Imagine the effects of that on people. Most matter gets destroyed by this anomaly, but not living things, for some reason. It's not a pretty sight." He was talking fast now, as if to get all of this out of his system as quickly as possible. "And you know what's even worse? These.. things that these people have become... Once they get a hold of a normal living being, can spread this condition to it. They do it purposely. Our only saving grace is that they don't seem to possess much strength or other ability to affect normal space, so they can only roam as far as we let them... until the anomaly eats its way through our walls and defenses, that is."

He went silent, and his face looked so gray that Istharnax prepared to jump out of the way in case he throws up all over the desk. She observed him silently, and eventually spoke again, with her vocabulator, in a quiet, almost kindly tone. "Why did you not send a messenger as soon as possible?"

"I... I don't... I wasn't thinking straight, none of us were. And I was terrified, okay? That this would be blamed on me, all on me... I... I realise saying this will likely get me into even worse trouble, but at this point, what does it matter? So, you know what? It would not be the first time! Not the first time that the City Council has to place blame, so it makes an example of the most readily available hapless sod involved!" He cut off, breathing heavily, and somehow his face managed to turn even more gray from horror at what he had just said, and to whom. Both guards standing across from him gave him looks one would give to a soldier who's just been shot through the lung.

But the inspector, for the first time, stopped looking at him. Her head tilted downwards slightly as her gaze wandered to the desk, and she stayed motionless and silent for at least half a minute. Then she let out a long sigh, a very strange sound coming from someone who does not actually breathe and speaks via vocabulator.

"I... see." Her eyes met the supervisor's again, and, astonishingly, he felt that the faint but ever-present menace was now gone from them. "Guards. Take him into custody, but do not send him back to Nezebgrad until I say so... or until it's your last opportunity to do so." She stood up, unfolding her long metallic limbs in a way that reminded the supervisor of a strange, bipedal, metallic harvestman. "Do not worry," she addressed him again, "I will make sure you are treated fairly. And I don't mean the usual 'fair trial' bullshit." The swearword was so out of left field and so strange to hear from the mouth of this terrifying, looming undead beanpole that the supervisor almost laughed. "You will receive punishment for the grave error of sending no message, but I will not let the Council put the blame on you for all of this. You could not have known this would happen. I have yet to find out if any surviving specialist staff members could have known, but I doubt it."

With that, she turned and strode out of the room, the supervisor still sitting motionless and staring after her even as one of the guards approached to handcuff him. He only snapped out of his bewilderment once the guard started nudging him to make him stand up, and had to shout "T-thank you, Inspector! Thank you!" to make sure the woman can still hear him, the metallic clangs of her footsteps echoing down the hallway.

#allods online #fan fiction #allods online fan fiction #horror #sovietpunk #arisen #my characters #istharnax #my writing

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pixylate-archive2020 · 5 years ago

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The Mother of Valerie Mache

{ tw for talk of kidna.pping and chi.ld-abuse. }

Cadence Beaumont was raised in Kalos. Born with a silver spoon in her mouth, she never had to struggle when it came to much of anything. She was given everything she needed, wanted, and could ever want, by doting parents. Said parents also encouraged her to become a woman who would take whatever she desired from the world, as she deserved good things. Naturally, all of these factors allowed Cadence to grow into someone brimming with hubris.

(Said hubris led to her downfall.)

Faeries have always been known throughout Kalos for centuries through folktales and various legends, while some in the modern today have claimed to have seen or met one personally, surviving the encounters. Cadence herself was was interested in the existence of faeries for one reason and one reason only: they allegedly could give blessings. Though she already had a good life, things going for her that a lot of people dreamed of having, she wanted more. More wealth, more respect, more love.

When she heard someone claim that there was a faerie currently roaming Santalune Forest, she went to investigate. She brought along her team of Poison-type pokemon, just in case she would need them. She did eventually find the faerie, who stated Cadence had quite a lot of bravery, or foolishness, to approach her so brazenly. But, the faerie was in a particularly good mood, and was curious as to what Cadence wanted from her.

Cadence did end up gaining enough of the faerie’s favor to earn a blessing, though of course, they made a deal. Just as the faerie would give her what she wanted, Cadence would do a favor to repay the entity. However, Cadence chose to not hold up her end of the deal. She saw no reason to, as she got what she wished for, and looked down her nose at the fae, thinking she wouldn’t be able to do anything genuinely harmful.

By Cadence not fulfilling her end of the deal, the faerie was of course angered. Not only did she take away her gift, she seeked to make Cadence utterly miserable. Of all the things to not do to a faerie, disrespecting them is the biggest one. No one did such and got away with it, never in history, and the fae was determined to not let Cadence be the first.

Cadence soon realized the warnings and horror stories about faeries held water. Waking up with her skin mysteriously marred in various areas, her hair falling out, her money vanishing, the people who she felt were her friends turning their backs on her; her life gradually fell into shambles. After her mother and father suddenly deemed her a disgrace, and Cadence lost her only regular source of income, she saw it appropriate to try and flee Kalos in order to get away from the faerie she deceived.

She moved to Johto, as she has old family ties to it, and it was far enough away from Kalos to where she felt safe. Choosing to live in Goldenrod City, Cadence slowly adjusted to living in Johto over the span of 3 months, mentally frazzled but thankful she at least stopped waking up with her appearance falling apart. She gained a small job working in a flower shop, and while she hated having a job more fitting to a “peasant”, it was better than nothing.

One day, she met a man who came into the flower shop to buy a bouquet. He was attractive, sure, but she didn’t have much interest in him at first. It took multiple visits and he innocently commenting that she was pretty, for Cadence to “notice” him. Soon, they started going on dates, and over time, she found herself falling in love with him. The feeling was reciprocated.

After close to a year passed, they ended up getting married. Cadence moved into Tobias’ home in Ecruteak City to live with him. Life started looking great for her again, and for a while, she thought she would never have to deal with faeries & their wickedness ever again.

Eventually, Cadence Mache became pregnant. Both she and Tobias were excited to be first-time parents. The pregnancy went by without any unusual problems, and after about 9 months, Cadence gave birth to a girl. She was lovingly named “Valeria”, and taken home with Cadence when they were cleared from Ecruteak’s hospital. That night, the family all settled down within their home, with Cadence putting Valeria to rest in her crib.

Little was Cadence aware that her newborn was stolen as she and Tobias slept. Her nightmare wasn’t over; the faerie who she disrespected before was still bent on making Cadence suffer. The woman fleeing to a different region didn’t do anything but increase the faerie’s annoyance. What’s more, is that the faerie’s own lover joined her in this quest for revenge. They discovered Cadence was pregnant, and bided their time, waited for the child to be born. They easily entered the human’s domain, switching Valeria with their own faerie child.

Cadence discovered the following morning. She instantly knew the infant laying in her daughter’s crib was not her daughter, despite their appearances being identical...except for their eyes. This infant’s eyes were a startling silver, softly glowing like they contained the full moon within them. She knew this meant one thing: this baby was a faerie. A changeling.

Naturally, she was angered beyond belief. Knowing her firstborn was taken by a faerie, surely the one she upset long ago, filled her with a burning anger and suffocating grief. However, there was little she could do about it. Tobias had no idea she didn’t pay back a faerie what she owed them, and thus had them hunting her.

Tobias didn’t know that this Valeria was not the true one; picking her up from her crib and affectionately holding the thing close. He noted how her eyes seemed to have changed, but was strangely not concerned. Cadence knew this was the spell of a changeling at work; the magic making to where the parents (or in this case, one of the parents) would accept the fae despite however it differed from the original child.

To keep her husband ignorant of her past, and thus the fate of their child, Cadence kept the true nature of “Valeria” as a faerie secret. Unsure of what would occur, Cadence was too fearful that Tobias would be furious that his first child was taken away from him, because of her crime. Not wanting to lose him, not after she lost about all the other good things in her life, Cadence never uttered a word about it. Instand, she would play along with this twisted punishment, raising “Valeria”.

However, she never treated “Valeria” with love. Why would she, as not only was this creature a faerie, it dared to mimic her lost daughter’s appearance? Take her place? Brimming with rage and hatred, Cadence abused “Valeria” often, venting her her ill feelings through her actions.

She made sure to play nice when Tobias was present, but as he was out of town a lot for his job, that left she and “Valeria” home alone constantly. It didn’t matter that the faerie child herself was completely unknowing of her own nature and what her purpose was; Cadence took everything out on her. A defenseless child was the perfect punching bag, all the more better that she was a faerie on top of it all.

Cadence never took it too far though, not wanting “Valeria’s” injuries to be too severe and alarming to Tobias. Bruises, cuts, scrapes; those were all excused as the girl being careless outside and in the house. It helped that due to her faerie biology, “Valeria” healed from her injuries far more quickly compared to the average human being, and didn’t scar.

Years later, a school-aged “Valeria” was taken out of school by Tobias, when he learned she was being bullied by her peers. The children found her appearance creepy, and the majority of the teachers didn’t ever feel inclined to help her, as she unsettled them as well. Refusing to let his daughter be treated like that, he asked his wife to homeschool her, and she of course accepted. More opportunities to make the faerie suffer? Cadence couldn’t turn that down.

As “Valeria” grew older as time went on, Cadence made sure to make the child believe she was a horrible, flawed entity. She didn’t tell “Valeria” herself that she was a faerie, for two reasons. One, she didn’t want the information reaching her husband. Two, she wanted “Valeria” to believe she was being treated the way she was because she deserved it; plain and simple.

Cadence manipulated and psychologically abused "Valeria” in many ways: to think whatever she wanted her to think, to act however she wanted her to act, unless she wished to be punished more. "Valeria” was a mistake, a blemish on this good earth, and a complete waste of life; all things Cadence wanted to carve into the girl’s mind so she’ll know it forever.

However lovingly Tobias treated “Valeria” in contrast, Cadence countered it. To push it further, she made the constant threat of death to “Valeria”, if she tried to tell her father what she was doing.

For her 10th birthday, Tobias gave “Valeria” her very first pokemon: an Eevee. Cadence gave her permission for it, hiding her sheer displeasure, and told her husband that she would help their daughter care for the normal-type. She kept to her word...mostly. She never laid a hand on the Eevee, but if the pokemon made a mess in the house or misbehaved, she punished “Valeria” for her lack of diligence and forced her to clean up after him.

Some months after “Valeria’s” 13th birthday, Tobias revealed that he had to live in Kalos for business, but he didn’t know for how long. Cadence refused to go, claiming she didn’t want to leave Johto (though in reality, she didn’t want to go to Kalos ever again if she could help it). “Valeria” however wanted to go live with her father, so she could stay with him.

(She wanted to get away from Cadence, more than anything else.)

Cadence very well could’ve said no and kept “Valeria” home in Johto, but she allowed the girl to leave with Tobias. Frankly, she was sick of her. Not having to deal with her sounded like a blessing, one Cadence passionately believed she deserved. Bags were packed, farewells were said, and “Valeria” departed with her father to Kalos.

That day was the last day Cadence and “Valeria” (who mainly goes by Valerie now) saw and spoke to one another. Valerie never tried to contact her mother. After Valerie left her father’s home and traveled Kalos, she stopped being in touch with him for a multitude of reasons, thus cutting herself off from her known family completely.

While to this day, Valerie has no idea what her parents have been up to, some events have transpired. Years ago, Cadence and Tobias eventually divorced, when Tobias finally started to suspect that his wife wasn’t as good of a person as she seemed.

Cadence chose to take a “vacation” from Johto; traveling to Hoenn. During the process, she disappeared.

No one knows where she currently is, or if she’s alive for that matter.

#❥ NO‚ I DON'T THINK LIFE IS QUITE THAT SIMPLE || about & headcanons.#/ i finally finished thi sdhgsdgs \#/ i apologize in advance for any spelling errors n such \#abuse tw-#kidnapping tw-#long post

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hoodie-lover · 5 years ago

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My Multiverse Part 34

Classic was panicking. People he had literally tried to kill and vise versa were in his universe, and no one seemed to be in danger or hurt in any way. If he had even a touch more energy he would have blasted all the Dark Sanses to oblivion by now, but when he saw Blue, Sci, and Geno, his jaw only dropped more.

“What is going on here? Why are people who have tried to kill us here?” Classic asked and Blue bounced up, Classic only now realizing the short skeleton was very not ok.

“Ink is an asshole-” Blue said but was rudely interrupted.

“You just cursed...” Classic said, his shattered worldview now a fine powder.

”-with mind control powers who tortured Error and trying to RESET the multiverse so he can have infinite power and I only have partial immunity since I was left in the anti-void by the first people who tortured Error who are apparently having a civil war.” Blue summarized. “That explains the glitching and we do have a plan! Also since you are the original you and any alternate timelines that exist also have immunity, along with glitches but Ink got his hands on Error’s code but as long as he is not alone, he won’t be forced to betray us!” Blue finished and Classic somewhat understood.

“Blue, calm down. Sans just woke up, and it’s near the end of the day, so we can explain everything in detail later.” Undyne said as she stood by Classic.

“T-thanks Undyne.” Classic said, and Papyrus walked up to him.

“Brother, what do you remember? Just the big things like locations and any identifiers?” Classic thought and gave a quick response.

“It was a dark basement. Chains on the wall, and a large staircase leading to the floor on top. Until I was kidnapped, a week or so ago I’m not quite sure, I had never been there.” Classic said and he got very weird looks.

“It’s been less than a day since you went missing Sans.” Undyne said, and Geno had a simple answer.

“This AU, where Classic was held, seems to move at a faster rate than most of the universes, similar to the Doodlesphere, another one of Ink’s personal universes.” Though he remembered that the other originals don’t know what the Doodlesphere is. “The Doodlesphere is where Ink generally lives and anyone can access any AU.” And everyone who didn’t know nodded in understanding.

“Guys?” Sci asked, and every Sans in the room froze in sheer and utter terror. “I may or may not have called Alt in.” And they, except Classic, face palmed.

“Who’s Alt?” And Sci was ready with his explanation.

“Alternate multiverses exist. Predictable, and an unrelated project got turned into the plan to defeat this multiverse’s Ink.” Sci said and a small skeleton, around two feet tall sped past him.

“HI!” He said, he looked like Ink. But he was around a foot shorter and had long baggy brown pants that covered his feet, and a large rainbow sweater along with the signature brown scarf. His eyelights were also two light pink splotches, shifting and changing with time, and he had the same ink mark on his right cheek.

“This is your boyfriend?” Killer said and Sci screamed.

“NO! We’re just-” But he was interrupted.

“Trying to get him to confess his feelings to me.” Alt beamed as he looked at everyone and gasped when he saw Classic’s bandages.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t think about how this world’s me hurt you! I-I r-really am an idiot! I shouldn’t have run out like that!” Alt said as he began to cry, collapsing to the ground with a thud, his eye lights going out. “T-those i-injuries, i-it hurt s-so m-much...” he mumbled as Sci picked him up and held him.

“We dealt with a pure evil Nightmare. What Classic went through, his multiverse’s Nightmare put him through. And yes, he does have the mind control power, but he is terrible at using it, one of those migraines at most on a good day to an alternate Sans.” Sci explained as he shushed and bounced the small Ink as if he were a small toddler.

“Forget boyfriend. You’re his dad.” Flowey giggled and was almost reduced to compost with a small bone straight from Sci.

“Poor thing.” Asgore said as he saw Alt drift off to sleep.

“He normally cries a lot, a few times a day. He’s been doing better, crying at least once a day but not as often and with. I’m just doing my best when I can’t visit him every single day.” Sci said as he rubbed the back of Alt’s skull as the small skeleton cuddled into him.

“Guess he was out through a lot huh?” Horror said, and asked a question he knew he’d regret. “What about that’s world’s us? We haven’t asked you much about this other multiverse.” Sci sighed as he looked at Alt’s face.

“You guys never came back from insanity.” And silence rang. “He was hurt mostly by that world’s Nightmare, I saw some footage while I had to break him out, it made me sick.” Sci said as he patted Alt’s head softly, causing the smaller to purr slightly in his sleep.

“I can’t believe he’s an alternate Ink.” Killer said, looking at him.

“I couldn’t believe it either. He’s so cute!” Sci beamed as he adjusted Alt’s scarf, though he got many looks from his friends.

“Is it moral to date an alternate version of yourself?” Alphys pondered, and Blue took offense to that.

“I’m dating an alternate me!” He slapped his hands over his mouth as all the Sanses gave him very determined looks.

“WHO?!” They all screamed, getting close to his face as Classic snickered with glee.

“I’m not telling.” Blue huffed as he turned away.

“Please Blue? We all want to know. Some of these bets go up to 200g.” Classic said as he leaned towards Blue, stopped by the railing of the bed.

“Let me guess. Underfell!Sans, is it Red?” Horror asked and Blue instantly blushed the most vibrant cyan any of them had seen.

“You mentioned him when we were cooking.” Horror explained and Blue smacked him hard on the head.

“No wonder you’re a Dark Sans. That was an emotional moment and you use it to win a bet.” Blue said, still blushing.

“Ha! Swapfell owed me 250g!” Classic exclaimed and everyone looked at him like he was mad.

“I said some. Not all, also Red may or may not keep a very unprotected diary.” Classic said winking.

“Wow. I would never expect that of your brother.” Papyrus said, giving Classic a weird look.

“I don’t hold back, and I don’t need to worry about RESETs. On the latter factor alone I feel so much more free and relaxed, like I can do things for a change.” Classic said and Alt stirred.

“W-what happened?” He said and Sci put him on the ground, Alt stood for about five seconds before falling on his butt with a thud.

“Sorry Sci. Anyway, how’s the enhancer going?” And everyone that didn’t already know, shot a deathly glare at the scientist. Though Flowey merely cackled evilly to himself.

Characters belong to their respective owners

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solign0501 · 6 years ago

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Shall We Begin (Epilogue)

Part 26

Summary: As a SHIELD agent your work alongside the Avengers means you and Bucky start to get to know each other but then one day you are ordered to go under cover away from him. When the mission goes wrong, the Avengers are called in for a rescue.

Warnings: Reference to torture/violence/vague sexual references/references to blood/angst

A/N: Thank you all so much for your support and patience with this series, your love and feedback has been amazing! I can’t say how great it’s made me feel seeing all of your comments, likes and reblogs. I love each and every one of you!

You were exhausted but still you ran, ignoring the sound of the approaching voices behind you. There was no choice, you had to get away, you couldn’t go through that again. Spying an open doorway, you shot inside and pressed yourself up against the wall, clapping a hand over your mouth to stifle your laboured breathing and praying that your pounding heart wouldn’t give you away.

The footsteps stopped just a few feet away from the door.

“I could have sworn I saw her heading this way.” You listened, motionless. “Where could she have gone to?”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., where is she?” Natasha asked.

“Try looking in the room to your left, Miss Romanoff,” the A.I. said. You could have sworn there was a smirk in her artificial voice.

“Traitor,” you cursed, glaring at the ceiling as Nat and Wanda walked in. Nat folded her arms and looked levelly at you, tapping her foot. Wanda tried to copy her but didn’t quite look as intimidating... mainly due to the huge grin on her face.

“Why are you trying to hide Y/N? I thought you wanted to marry him.”

“I do!” you protested. “I just didn’t factor in the wedding planners from hell. I swear, between the three of you, you two and Tony are going to plan me to death!”

“Oh don’t worry,” Nat said, reaching out and holding your shoulder in a grip that you knew would hurt more to try and get out of. “Barnes is getting the same, if not worse.”

“That’s not as comforting as you seem to think,” you muttered.

She pulled you forward and together she and Wanda frog-marched you out of the room and down the hall towards the communal kitchen. Bucky was already sitting there waiting and he looked up at you as you walked in, giving an apologetic smile. Nat steered you towards the stool next to him and forced you down onto it before moving to the other side of the kitchen island as she and Wanda took their positions either side of Tony.

“Right,” Tony said decisively, looking pointedly at you. “Now that we’ve found you both, there’s a few more things we need to go through.” He picked up his phone and flicked his hand across the screen, sending the timetable to hover as a hologram between you all. You groaned inwardly at the sheer amount on it.

“Come on guys, can’t we just have something small and simple?” you begged. Bucky nodded in emphatic agreement. Tony gave you a look of pure pity, like a child who had said something silly.

“You two have been through so much, plus you’re Avengers. The world is going to want to be a part of this. Two heroes, both saved from the savage grip of Hydra and each snatched from the jaws of death. The exposés write themselves. Besides, you’re our friends... for the most part,” here he looked at Bucky. “We want to make sure you have the most memorable day ever. This is our wedding gift to you.”

You sighed deeply, realising he was right.

“Okay,” you said reluctantly. “But can we please at least have some time to ourselves? Just to catch our breath.” The planners all looked at each other and nodded, turning back to you both with a smile that was actually kind of sinister coming from the three of them at once.

“Agreed,” Tony said. “You can have some time now, we have the cake tasting in half an hour in the main canteen. We’ll go make sure everything is ready and then Wanda will come back and get you. In the meantime, try and figure out what you would want as the first dance.”

With that, they turned and left, leaving you and Bucky alone for what felt like the first time in ages. You folded your arms on the counter and put your head down on them, sighing dramatically.

“Wanna call the whole thing off, doll?” Bucky asked, rubbing your back lightly. Your head shot up and you looked at him in shock.

“No way!” He smiled warmly and leaned forward to kiss you.

“Good to know,” he whispered, resting his forehead on yours. “You know, it’s actually kind of sweet.”

“I’d agree with you, if it wasn’t so exhausting. Though I’m a little bit glad that they’re doing the planning and not us. I’m not sure I’d remember half of what we need!” Bucky murmured in agreement. “So, any thoughts on our first dance?” Bucky blushed a little and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I actually have a suggestion.” You motioned for him to go on. “I was talking to Steve about this the other day, because he said we should have dancing lessons.”

“I hope you told him you don’t need them?” you asked, knowing that his moves were one thing Hydra didn’t manage to wipe away.

“Absolutely. Best man or not, nobody questions my dancing doll.” He tipped you a wink and you felt the now familiar flush of warmth move through you. “He said it had to be a song that meant something to us, then he suggested Sweet Child O’ Mine.”

“Makes sense, it’s what we sing to each other when we have nightmares to calm us both.”

“Exactly,” Bucky said, leaning on the island and looking at you. “It’s our nightmare song. Besides, you only sang it to me in the first place because it’s something your father used to sing to you, so it’s already something special.” He chewed on his bottom lip, trying to think of how to phrase what he wanted to say.

“Okay...” you said slowly, waiting for him to say what was making him so nervous.

“Then I thought of another song, one that means something to both of us, from a film that also now means something to both of us. Whenever you hear it, you light up and I know it’s corny, but every time I see you smile like that I fall in love with you all over again.”

“You’re right, that is corny,” you joked, quirking an eyebrow at him. “So, what is this song that makes you oh so romantic?” Bucky stood and held his hand out to you.

“I’d rather show you.” You took his hand and he pulled you in to him, holding you close. You breathed in the familiar scent of his cologne and metal, everything else instantly melting away. “F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” he said softly, his voice still carrying so that AI could hear. “Play our song.”

“Certainly, Sergeant Barnes,” she said. As the music drifted all around you, Bucky started to move, taking you with him.

Tonight it’s very clear, as we’re both lying here

There’s so many things I wanna say.

I will always love you

I would never leave you alone

“Good choice?” he whispered in your ear as he swept you round.

“Perfect,” you breathed.

Here's a link to the song, so you can hear it and picture them dancing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yQHhqDRn4_c

@hillywooddestiel @imaginecrushes @thebookisbtr @fandomlover03 @rosep16 @marassberry @capandbuck @not-so-bad-ass @diinofayce @characterxreader @steverogersbish @rediscoveringdebbie84-deactivat @amor67figment-love @markusstraya @theglowstickofdestiny @littlerinoa @slowlybeingforgotten @captainwinterfalcon

#marvel #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #Bucky Barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #avenger reader #avenger you #natasha romanoff #Black Widow #tony stark #Iron Man #wanda maximoff #Scarlet Witch #shall we begin

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saintaugustinerp · 6 years ago

Photo

Congratulations Holly! You have been accepted for the role of The Golden Heir with the faceclaim Émile Woon. Please be sure to check out the accepted applicants checklist! Also be sure send us a link to your blog within the next twenty-four hours. Welcome to St. Augustine!

OUT OF CHARACTER

Name/alias: holly

Age (18+) : 21

Gender/Preferred pronouns: female, she/her

Timezone: pst

IN CHARACTER

Desired Skeleton: The Golden Heir Character Name: Julien Moreau

Age (18+): Twenty-one

Gender/Pronouns: Cismale, he/him

Hometown: Ottawa, Canada

Major: Political Science

Desired Faceclaim: Émile Woon

Character blurb:

He gingerly steps onto the platform, toting rosy cheeks and a practiced grace. This is understandable considering the lineage he stems from — a background that everyone who surrounds him is intimately aware of, including you. He is well-dressed, well-fed, well-loved, and all of these factors exude from every pore of his being. There is a faint glow that radiates from him; the aura of untouched naivety, of someone who lives blissfully free of worldly worries. He offers you a warm grin as he walks past, though it does not seem to reach his eyes. Still, you cannot help but smile back.

Developed Headcanons:

HISTORY: Julien’s father is the highly respected speaker for the Canadian parliament, and his mother runs a slew of non-profit foundations, and deems herself a socialite in her off hours (read: stay-at-home mom, without much of the mom part, and more of the thinly veiled alcoholism and marital problems). He has one sibling — a bratty younger sister, Anais — who he deeply cherishes. His family name is delicately braided into the foundations of the French and Canadian governments; information that is well-known to familial outsiders. All of them have established connections in high places, as their reputation and lineage overshadow any and all other personal details.

His childhood is etiquette classes, private tutors, lavish events, and the echoes of empty rooms in a house that is far too large. The essential fares of a lonely rich boy, though he doesn’t consider himself to be particularly lonesome. He is well-off and pampered, with parents who pay heaps of attention to him, despite being caught up in their own affairs. He is showered with near endless accolades throughout his youth, grooming a belief that the world is giving and kind, and the people who inhabit it are inherently good, keeping him trapped in a bubble of opulent warmth.

Though every moment is quietly controlled, and every action laced with the constant fear of mistake or failure, he is still — generally — quite contented with his life.

(Or at least, he can fake it enough to make everyone believe that, including himself.)

PERSONALITY: ( alignment — lawful neutral / mbti — esfj / zodiac — taurus )

His image is clean-cut and untarnished, making it easy for others to project whatever they desire onto him. Everyone who surrounds him views him differently — the golden child, the loving friend, the gifted student, the talented athlete. None of the interpretations ever seem to skew on the negative side, at least the ones he is aware of.

He was bred to hold a fear of negative emotions, and shown that the only viable option to stay above the heap is to project a very particular image. Those kinds of feelings are to be expressed only in private, only out of the public eye, if expressed at all. Interactions between his family unit are either unbearably positive in that ‘a very special episode’ sort of way, or heavily weighted periods of uncomfortable silence.This has contributed to a complete suppression of negative feelings, to the point that for a long while, it appeared they were going to exist in a permanent lock-down.

The events of the past year have proven to be an excellent lock-pick, as gradual cracks in the canvas have begun to form. Within, he is a deeply troubled kid. Worrying lack of sleep, poorly handled stress, a penchant for watching depressing foreign films alone at 4 AM — these are all signs of deeper problems that he tries to brush off as simple character quirks when questioned. This neuroticism has begun to peek through the holes in occasional blowout fits of rage and depression — the aftermath of which are always desperate apologies and sheer embarrassment. The last thing he desires is pity, or for any word of these growing issues to get out into the world. His feelings are for him to repress all by himself, thank you very much.

THE PARASITE: The beginnings of Julien’s relationship with The Parasite were primarily rooted in the image obsession he has been bred with, though it certainly has bloomed into true and deep affections. He has always been somewhat of a romantic; compelled toward soppy love stories and the concept of soulmates. That four letter word does hang unspoken on his lips, and was a mere fraction away from spilling until Frederick’s death. His head has been significantly more cloudy since — though he still considers The Parasite to be one of the few presences that can truly ground him. (Oh, poor naive soul.)

THE FALLEN ANGEL: There are not many freedoms offered to Julien in the way of natural youthful rebellion, as he had been directed onto a very particular path without much room for deviation. This factor led to the development of a deep jealousy toward his peers who were permitted to run freely, feel the wind in their hair and all that cliche ‘coming-of-age’ nonsense. This jealousy presents itself in his adult life as a sense of superiority over those who live recklessly, and of those who experience the consequences. If he is able to keep his head on straight, exist carefully between the lines, why should he be expected to sympathize with those who throw that all away?

The Fallen Angel’s fall from grace is tragic, yes, but in his mind, they are simply facing the heat for their actions. Julien harbors regret for how he has treated them, but he cannot be expected to throw his work, his reputation, his name into the flames to keep one person warm.

THE GOOD SAMARITAN: They were rugby teammates and friends, and though it’d be a stretch to say they were close, there was never any bad blood or tension between them — as two kindhearted and popular year twos, they got along quite well.

Frederick’s death has proven to be quite the blow to Julien’s mental state. He grew up incredibly sheltered from the pains of the world, outside of the charity balls his mother would throw for starving children or dying animals or whatever tragedy she chose to care about that month, so being personally involved in one has resulted in feelings he is unaccustomed to. He carries the thought that he could’ve done something, if only he hadn’t been so wrapped up in his own business. If he would’ve just been paying attention, he would’ve seen him wander off into the woods alone… he has been plagued by recurring nightmares about the bonfire in light of this guilt.

MAJOR: Political Science was not quite the major he would’ve chosen for himself, but it was essentially a base level expectation that he would follow in the footsteps of his family and pursue a career in the political world. He receives high marks, but has approximately zero passion for the work he is doing. He is still about a second away from switching to Philosophy or Literature or anything that would be more engaging.

INTERESTS: He has a frankly astounding addiction to caffeine. Seeing as he very rarely gets enough sleep — both due to his schedule being packed to the brim, and his own propensity for staying up for no reason — he relies on about five cups of coffee a day. (Or a noxious mix of random energy drinks and an assortment of painfully sugary candy, though that is a potion for only the most dire of occasions.)

As a pretentious child of wealth, offered private schools and personalized tutoring, it is only natural Julien adore reading as an adult. He was raised on the pompous classics, though his all time favorite book will forever be The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe.

Though he grew up in a house with maids, his mother always made certain that baked goods were personally prepared with her family recipes. And as a boy with a sweet tooth that will not quit, a blend of Malay and French desserts comprise the most nostalgic flavors of his childhood. In times of immense stress, he would sneak to their expansive kitchen in the middle of the night, hastily (and poorly) prepare a galette or a red bean kuih or whatever else his tongue was vying for, and scarf it down like a seasoned champ. Nowadays, he’s replaced this stress relief with a (decidedly worse) smoking habit. The lack of filling pastries with the addition of endless packs of cigs has contributed to bad breath and a stomach that is perpetually craving a sugar rush.

AESTHETIC: Decorative lattes, thick hardcover books, untouched piles of snow, cozy turtlenecks, rose bushes, the click of shoes on tiled floors, kiss-swollen lips, acoustics with loads of reverb, leather oxfords, a lightly floured cutting board, whiskey glasses, ugly babies from historical paintings, ashtrays, Baz Luhrman films, an icy rugby field, the drone of coffee-shop chatter, the moment of stillness before sunrise.

Writing Sample:

The gentle glow of soft orange light. The burn that builds in the pit of his belly, flooding his veins and tingling down into his toes. A warm and inviting hand, curled into his own. Eyes crinkling with a joke being told; a genuine smile that makes his cheeks hurt.

Snow falls from the heavens. The flakes that drift before his vision, that pile softly around his feet, are blood red. He looks up — the sky is a dark crimson. When his eyes drop, everyone around the fire has vanished, leaving Frederick alone, slumped unnaturally. He tries to call to him, but no sound comes out.

Frederick turns, and his eyes are pitch black.

Julien jolts up. His breathing is labored, erratic, and his hair lays flush against his forehead, glistened with a cold sweat. His heart is making it well known that it desires a very promptexit from his chest, banging wildly against the walls of his ribcage. He spares an errant glance at the clock at his bedside — 5:32 AM — an offers a heaving sigh. A half-hour of sleep feels hardly worth it, moreso considering his mind will need far longer to quiet down.

Thin legs swing from a cozy cocoon of three thick woven quilts, and goosebumps immediately take residence. He snatches a cigarette and a well-worn lighter from his side-table, delicately plodding toward the dorm window. Oh, if only his mother could see him now: up before sunrise, eyes weighed by bags so large they could declare themselves a sovereign nation, with the final cigarette from his pack held between deft fingers. Not to mention the sheer illegality of it all, what, with him lighting up in his room. A room that was the previous lodging of monks, no less. He figures recurring horrific nightmares about your dead friend are a sound enough excuse.

(He is, however, unsure if the monks would accept that.)

He props himself beside the window, eyes grazing the skyline. The view is less than engaging at this time of the morning — snow-capped roofs, flurried flakes, and an almost uncomfortable stillness. There are a few quiet flicks, before the flames spring to life in the darkness. The smoke comes soon after, wafting in a delicate stream up to the ceiling.

How long would it take to get over this? Another puff toward the ceiling. Months? Years? He was a friend, but their closeness was nothing to write home about, so how does it figure that he is still so hung up? He has always vied to befriend everyone in their year. He’s not sure how he’d react if this happened to anyone else. Would his brain plague him with countless dreams then?

Just my year, now, he thinks, after a moment. Another puff.

Maybe he would never be over it, cursed to exist obliviously warmed and content by the bonfire, Frederick’s blackened eyes forever on him.

Other: i created a mockblog right here that is available for perusal! also thank you for reading this gigantic wall!!!!!!! :^)

#rp #rpg #roleplay #golden heir #accepted

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