#BREAK HIS RIBCAGE WITH THAT POLE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

just-some-random-blogger · 2 years ago

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Maniac

Ex!Aemond Targaryen x Reader + Rebound!Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Not everyone can take the pressure of being involved with a Targaryen. Beyond the heat the media give the powerful family, there was the heat of those in power within the house that stood between everything. This is what lead to Aemond letting you go and Daemon swiping you up.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: modern au, fem!reader, mention/depiction of sex, old money!targaryren, smoking, drinking, eternally smug!daemon, eternally annoyed!aemond, typos, etc.

A/N: this is a poll decided pairing (: . idk i thought of this plot while vibing to maniac by conan gray Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui @lxdyred

"Hey puppy," I coo as I jog up to the door and cup Aemond's face. I pepper him with kisses before wrapping my arms around him, "how was work?" He looks at me, grabs my wrists, pulls my arms away, and speaks my name. I raise a brow, "Aemond?" "I'm breaking up with you."

The bass in the venue thumps in my ribcage. I hop around with the sea of people to the beat of some obscure EDM song. I throw my head back and cheer. I sway my hips after downing the contents of my cup.

I nearly gag as I burp. I wipe my lips as I still for a moment to get my bearings.

Fuck. If he knew, Aemond would be so-

I growl when I catch myself in the middle of that thought. I mess my already messed hair up and crush my plastic cup.

No, no. Fuck Aemond.

I shirk when the bodies around me begin to get too close for comfort. Time to get out of here.

I weave through the crowd, glad the sequins of my fitted red dress wasn't getting snagged into anyone's clothing. As I squeeze through a group of girls, I catch a face from the corner of my eye. His burning blonde hair looked pink under the lights; still, he was unmistakable, and it seemed so was I, judging by how he raises his glass to me after we lock eyes.

I look away. How dare he act so familiar?

I turn back to him. He beckons me over with a head tilt.

I scoff. Fuck you. How dare you tell me what to do after all the shit you put me though?

I take a split second to debate whether or not I want to deal with him tonight. It's probably going to be horrible if I do, and yet, my feet are taking me straight into the eye of the storm.

That was, until the bouncer in the VIP section blocks me.

I look up at him and blink, "hi."

"No sneaking in, love," he mutters.

"Let her through, Sandor," a voice calls, making the said man look over his shoulder and turn back to me. He steps away and unhinges the stanchion, motioning with his head.

I walk through, smile, and nod, "thank you, Sandor."

Sandor ignores me and goes back to his post.

"Hello, baby girl," the blonde says from the bar he's leaned on.

I sit down on the stool next to him and grimace, "hello, bastard."

He shifts on his elbow, "I'll have you know Rhaenyra's children have been legitimized following her marriage to Strong."

I pretend to hum in intrigue as I place my crushed cup next to his martini glass.

"But of course, you wouldn't know that because you were too sick to attend the wedding," he tilts his head, "or so Aemond says."

I shrug, "Aemond and I broke up."

"A mutual break up?" he quirks his brows, "I doubt that. What'd he do?"

I narrow my eyes at him, "what do you mean?"

"Oh come on," he waves a hand, "you wouldn't let me touch that kid with a 6 foot pole. What? Did he fuck your sister? Think it was you?"

I cringe, "that's something more on brand for you, Daemon."

"I'll have you know, I have perfect eyesight," he takes his glass, "my nephew however..."

I glare at him.

Daemon sniggers before he sips his drink, "see. Even now you're on his side."

I lick my lips in annoyance, "I'm not on his side."

"Worry not, darling," he turns and motions to the bartender, "the wraith is awfully attached to you." The bartender walks over. "You'll at least see him grovel and beg for you-- a cosmo," he turns to me, "right?"

I clench my jaw then shrug.

Daemon turns back to the bartender and nods. The bartender mutters 'you got it' before walking off.

"He broke up with me."

Daemon takes his glass but sets it down before he even takes a sip.

I look at him and feel irritation rise up my throat. I cough it out with a- "is that really so hard to imagine?"

He tilts his head, "I'm confused. You want me to think this makes sense?"

"I want you to remember how you laughed when Aemond's dad called me a bootlicking bimbo-"

Daemon chortles immediately.

"- and how you always remarked on the dresses I wore whenever I was around. Aemond's grandpa ended up giving me shit for it!"

"Woah," Daemon wheezes, "okay. Otto is a true cunt, to you especially, but can you blame me? You truly are distracting in those dresses, darling." He motions to my body.

I jump off my seat and shove his shoulder, "fuck you, Daemon. He called me a harlot when he thought I wasn't looking."

The next second, I'm walking away fuming, but the sniggering moron stands and grabs my arm, "look. It's funny because it's stupid."

I whip my head back and yank my arm away, "fuck you!"

"Why are you so bothered by what Viserys and that old fuck think anyway?" he gives a lopsided smile that didn't reach his eyes, "it's not-"

"Why would I care about what my boyfriend's father and grandfather think of me?!"

"Ex," Daemon shakes his head and rolls his eyes, "and you and I both know it's not true."

"It's true to them," I point to nowhere as I feel my eyes water at the memory.

"It's really not," he mutters, digging his hand in the inner pocket of his coat, " 's just some shit they said cos they're pissed."

I turn away from him and tilt my head back, fanning my face as I refused to shed a tear, especially in front of him.

Daemon watches and places a cigarette between his lips, "I know big brother didn't like the fact he couldn't find a reason to hate you."

I clench my jaw as I glare at Daemon.

He pulls out a lighter and opens it. The stick in the corner of his mouth wiggles as he speaks, "he had plans to match Aemond with a Baratheon girl."

A line forms between my brows.

He lights his stick and takes a deep swig of nicotine. Smoke comes out of his nose and mouth, making my face contort further. Daemon then swipes his thumb on the crinkle on my forehead, "trust me, Baratheons are boorish."

I feel my lips quiver.

Aemond told me not to worry about her.

I feel like my insides were being ripped out.

Don't you do it. Don't you dare fucking cry over-

"Baby girl-"

"Don't you fucking call me that, asshole," I hiss as saltwater begins to pour from my eyes.

Daemon feels immensely uncomfortable, "want a puff?"

I begin to feel my eyes burn because of my makeup.

I have to get out of here.

He sighs and rubs the tears off my skin before turning to the bar where the Cosmo was just placed. "If you're gonna cry over Targaryen," he mutters as he pulls out his wallet and settles his bill. He turns back to me, handing me he drink.

I do not get it from him and he sighs again as he places it down. I cringe at the smell of his smoke. He continues, "wouldn't it be better if it was because of my dick?"

My face contorts.

He draws in another deep breath and pulls the stick out of his mouth using two fingers.

"Fuck you, Daemon," I growl before turning away.

"My place then?" he follows after.

Daemon follows me outside.

I am booking a ride home on my phone

"Oh, don't be boring," he snatches the object and places it over his head.

"Daemon!"

"Don't worry," he looks up and cancels my order, "I already called one."

"Give it back!"

"Oh, come on, you want to wallow in your self-pity or have it fucked out of you?" he offers, "besides, the car will be here in five."

My eye twitches, "how is that even possible?!"

"Shortcuts, babes," he mutters as he bites his cigarette and adjusts it in his lips. He tilts his head, "you make a shortcut for a ride, put it on your homescreen, give it a push-- gods, maybe you are a bimbo."

I grunt and snatch his cigarette and put it out on his chest. He yelps and pulls back as it surely burned through his shirt.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I fake-pout, "I thought you were done with that."

Daemon glares at me as he brushes his shirt off, "oh, you want to mark me, do you, little girl?"

"I don't want-" the words retreat into my mouth when he marches over and I find myself pushed against the streetlight. His arms are on my sides, hands gripping the pole behind me.

"Don't want what?" Daemon leans in, close enough that I can smell the cigarette smoke and the cologne on him. It was an overpowering smell.

I feel my body warm as he laughs at my silence.

"You know, I always knew you'd burn Aemond's fingers. I just didn't know he'd pussy out and let go if you got too hot."

Daemon looks past me and leans back, taking my hand as a car pulls up, "I happen to bask in dragon fire."

"How original."

I let him drag me back to his place. I let him get under my skin, into me. The night was filled with spiteful remarks, mocking laughs, and rough kisses, but it was also surprisingly filled with whispered praises, reassuring touches, and unbroken promises of pleasure.

It was no competition though, and in the first place, I should not have been comparing one or the other. It was an unfortunate reflex as of late. And it was easy for my mind to think him when his uncle's hair fell on his face almost the same way his did.

Gods they even said the same shit, it was fucking with my head.

I ended up saying Aemond instead of Daemon at one point, and spent what felt like hours being punished for the mistake.

It was clear, twice that after it was rectified by Daemon, he wasn't Aemond. He was nothing like him. Daemon was a good fuck but we didn't do it in his bedroom. He didn't want to hold me after, nor did he make an effort to clean me (or himself) up. He called me good girl but didn't say I love you, for obvious reasons. He made my flesh sting but made no efforts to soothe. And when he marked my skin and called me his, I didn't feel like I belonged, I felt like I was owned.

He did leave me tired in his guestroom before getting up to sleep in his own bed. But I was not tired enough to resist the itch of getting on the internet the moment I woke up. I felt like I was on autopilot as my fingers moved.

I had to hold back a sound when I saw Floris Baratheon's post of her in the Targaryen estate's garden. I shudder at the caption. Luncheon date my ass.

Oh gods.

I could feel tears building up as I opened a browser and looked up Targaryen and Baratheon.

Relationship?

My heart was pounding. I sit up and push the sheets off me while I scroll through article after article.

"Oh, good," the door creaks, "you're up. Are you the one that's allergic to nuts or was that someone else entirely?"

I look up at Daemon as he peeks through the door of his guest room. His hair is damp, signifying a fresh shower. He walks in when I full on break into a sob. He curses then blurts, "does something hurt? Do you need something?"

"Aemond is with Floris?"

He stops in his tracks, "what?"

I drop my phone and retreat under the covers, "he told me he never even spoke to her, and now they're together?"

Daemon purses his lips then sucks in a breath, propping his hands right above the band of his red boxers, "right," he rubs his bare belly, "you want breakfast or not? Should I use almond milk? It's the only thing I got."

"FUCK YOU!" I growl and chuck a pillow at him.

The pillow misses Daemon by a mile and he stares at it as it flies off to the side. He turns back to me then wipes his nose, "fine. I'm putting the almond milk," he walks off, raising a finger, "also, I have work in an hour. If you stay, know your dress is on the couch. My cleaning lady might do something with it though."

Daemon's bare feet tingle against the cold tiles of the penthouse. He sniffles and turns on the fireplace with a remote before heading back to the kitchen.

One of the few things he could actually cook was oatmeal, and he was pretty good at it, if he did say so himself.

He furrows his brows when he hears the telltale button sounds of the front door. He turns to the digital clock on the wall and wonders if the cleaning lady was coming in early today.

Daemon is pulling out some fruit from the fridge when he hears a rather unwelcomed voice call out to him, "good morning, Uncle." Or should he say welcomed?

He looks at the him, unable to hold back his smirk, and sets down the things on the counter, "fancy a bowl of oats, Aemond?"

"Father instructed me to get the Harrenhal files from you."

Daemon chews on a raspberry as he mixes the pot of oats, "that's the longest no I've ever heard."

Aemond watches Daemon grab two bowls. He shakes his head, "I've already eaten."

" 'S not for you, darlin'," he retorts as he turns the stove off and pour the content.

In that moment, Aemond looks around and spots a glimmering dress on the couch. He involuntarily thinks it looks familiar but thinks little of it as he turns back to Daemon, "I didn't realize you had company."

Daemon snorts, "she's a feisty one. You'd know about that, right?"

Aemond does not react as his uncle grins.

He points to his chest, "burnt me with my own cigarette," he smirks, but it doesn't last. "Also, tell your old man if he asks the cleaning lady for my passcode again, I'm breaking his teeth."

"I'm just here for the Harrenhal files."

Daemon eyes Aemond before pouring the food into the bowl, "why? I'm coming to the meeting with it in an hour."

The latter tilts his head, "father mentioned you got into an argument and thought you might not show."

"So," the former puts the pot down with much more force than necessary, "he had his son break into my house?"

"I was going to wake you if you were asleep."

"And if I wasn't here?" Daemon leans on the counter.

Aemond shrugs, "I'd look for it myself."

Daemon is about to burst into a fit of High Valyrian curses up until his name is called out. Him and Aemond turn to the side.

"I showered in your bathroom and now I'm stealing your shit!" I call out as I rub my hair with a towel I found in his guestroom.

I look at my puffy eyes and purple neck marks in the mirror in his bedroom and hear Daemon call out, "what shit?!"

I go through his closet and grab a the first shirt I spot, "your watch!"

I vaguely hear him chuckle, "I don't have watches in my bedroom-

"Pity," I mutter under my breath.

"- but feel free to get whatever clothing you want!"

A generous statement, Aemond thinks. He used to watch his uncle bring back different women all the time when he still lived at the estate with them. He never once was like this though. He watches Daemon as he chuckles. He finds it immensely bizarre that his uncle seems so giddy. He's beckoned by him again, "sure you don't want a bowl, wraith?"

Aemond grumbles at the nickname, he always hated it, and merely clenches his jaw.

He shrugs, "suit yourself."

"Will you give me the files or not, Daemon?"

Daemon looks at him before grabbing two spoons from the drawer, "fine. Want them so bad? I'll give them to you."

"Thank you," he mutters in relief.

"Why don't you take a seat, scarecrow," Daemon adds, "you're going to spook the girl."

Aemond rolls his eyes as he moves over to the living space. He sits on the one sofa chair and eyes the red dress across him for a moment. He then looks out the window before pulling out his phone.

Daemon watches his nephew walk off. He holds back a laugh as he turns back to the oatmeal. He practically combusts with excitement when he hears shuffling from the left.

He looks up at me as I walk over to him.

"Morning, baby girl," Daemon coos and crosses his arms, "my stolen shirt suits you."

Aemond clears his throat involuntarily upon hearing this. He couldn't have whispered? He fishes for his earpods in his pocket and curses himself for not bringing it.

My eyes take in how Daemon's chest bulged. He takes in my puffy eyes as I retort, "want it back? You look cold."

Aemond finds himself eyeing the dress again after hearing that. Why does her voice sound like that?

Daemon lips quirk. He grabs the shirt I was wearing and pulls me toward him. I collide with his chest and his hand slips under the fabric, "naughty girl. You'd offer such a thing when you're not even wearing underwear?"

This is definitely not something Aemond signed up for.

I raise a brow at Daemon, "when did you become such a prude?"

He chuckles and places a hand on my shoulder. His thumb rubs the marks he left on my neck, "you want me to fuck you the counter?"

Right. Aemond stands from the couch and turns to Daemon, "just tell me where the file is and I'll get it myself."

I jolt and grab at Daemon upon hearing that.

Daemon breaks into a laugh.

I whisper-yell, "there's someone here?!"

Daemon pushes my hair back as he hears the sound of footsteps approaching. He looks over his shoulder, "actually, now that I think about it, I think the Harrenhal files are in the file cabinet in my office."

Aemond's fury blazes then dissipates in an instant. He is frozen in his spot when he locks eyes with me.

My body has a rather instant reaction to him. My mouth watered as though I was about to vomit. My hold on Daemon is released.

Aemond's mind was racing as he eyes my appearance. His throat constricts, eye almost flinching as he notices my pert nipples and the dark hues across my neck.

Daemon is the only one not petrified. He rubs my side before pulling away to get his bowl of oats. He eats a spoonful before muttering to Aemond, "it's in the bottom drawer, methinks."

Aemond completely ignores this, eyes fixed on me, "what the fuck are you doing here?"

Daemon raises a brow, "don't think that's any of your business."

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I rebut.

Aemond scoffs, "what am I doing in my uncle's home?"

I scoff too, "it's not like you two were ever close, Aemond."

Daemon looks between us as he eats, "this is really good."

"So what?!" Aemond barks, "you're fucking him to get back at me?! A rather pitiful play on revenge, don't you think?"

The ferocity of his tone stabs through my chest. He was never one to raise his voice, and hearing his voice was already painful as it is. I am glad I have the wits to snark back, "why would I need to get back at you? You've been nothing to me for the past two months. I'm doing this because I want to."

Daemon licks his lips as he unabashedly chuckles.

Aemond clenches his fists.

I begin to heave heavily.

The longest of moments pass.

Daemon catches the way I begin to falter. He pushes the other bowl of oatmeal towards me, "eat before it gets cold."

I turn to Daemon after grabbing the bowl. I immediately stuff my mouth. I meant to give a really exaggerated reaction, but I find myself momentarily distracted by how genuinely good the oatmeal tasted. I mumble, "... this is really good."

Daemon smiles, "it is, isn't it?"

I tense when Aemond calls out my name.

Daemon's smile disappears as he turns to his nephew.

"Let's talk about it outside," Aemond mutters.

Daemon scoffs, "if she wanted to talk to you outside, she'd have said so by now, don't you think?"

"This has nothing to do with you, Daemon," Aemond rebuts.

I flinch when Daemon drops his bowl carelessly on the counter and straightens up, "this has everything to do with me. She went home with me; she's in my house, wearing my shirt, being demanded things by my stupid nephew, who, by the way, is now leaving."

"She's my ex-girlfriend," Aemond's neck strains. He steps forward.

"Yes, she was your girlfriend and now she wants nothing to do with you-- get out!"

The decay of Daemon's loud voice merely intensifies the tension in the room. I cannot express the relief I felt at the sound of withdrawing footsteps. I let out a sigh when I hear the door bang shut and bury my face in my hands.

Daemon shifts in his place and looks down at me, "pretty satisfying, no?"

"WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T YOU TELL ME AEMOND WAS HERE?!" I explode and attack him with punches.

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bunji-enthusiast · 6 months ago

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Hello love, I was wondering if you could do a Tristan one shots with a female s/o, where Tristan gets protective and jealous of someone trying to take his s/o

Hello hello dear anon, here you go! I hope I did quite alright for this request of yours :)

"Hm." Straddled along the horses you were given, with a fellow body. You were able to make it to where you needed to go in no time, hopefully without complications in your journey. Which there was none so far, leaving you to breathe a sigh of relief each and every time at each potential mark of the road.

It was undeniably fierce, the rays of the sun beat down on the two of you hard. You had been sent down, and alongside you--at his insistence--Tristan. To which you had audibly sighed and rolled your eyes at when he had been very vocal about his disdain about you going alone to fend off the area of which the band of invaders were very unwelcoming in residing territory that belonged to the Kingdom Of Liones. You weren't sure about why he was being so quick to volunteer in coming along, or why his father complied with it in the first place either.

But nonetheless, what's done is done, and you couldn't really find it in yourself to stay mad at your boyfriend for long. He often times is far too kind and gentle, but firm when needed be, and you wished he was like that more often. Yet, he is fearful of his own power, and rather often this comes too light in many situations where Tristan is forced to resort to the use of his demonic abilities. The thought of the circling relations had confused you for a mere moment but you had steadied your busy mind.

"I think we're almost there." Tristan commented, snapping you out of your deep circle of thoughts. You turned your head, your gaze inquiring as he had immediately pointed ahead in the distance of which you had been needed to go. The end reach of your required destination. You nodded in return, and hurried along.

Tristan was surprised by your speed, but nonetheless decided to match your pace.

Each thudding of your footsteps, almost resounded harshly in the confines of your ribcage. The harsh thumping of your heartbeat, supposedly wrought a deafening feeling of something in the future that is possibly meant to be feared. You were readily reminded that your boyfriend was not far from you as you reached such a rabble of a building, which was lighted by torches and clear noises of busy bodies.

You let out a low groan -- mentally preparing yourself for the combat of reparations ahead.

"Okay, let's go." You said, nodding at Tristan as a means of reassurance. In return, he had done the same, steeling his nerves. Trodding your horses over, you went on down, and tied the rope which heeled your horse to a wooden pole. You began walking toward the entrance, almost crouching to conceal your presence, you casted a brief glance over at Tristan, who had mimicked your array of actions.

You wanted the assurance of surprise on the self-imposed band of invaders taking illegal residence inside the territory, you snuck by side the large doorway. You watched as Tristan went to the other other side, you murmured a small but surefire plan, enough to ensure that only Tristan had heard it. A small series of hand gestures accompanied your verbal plan, then with a small affirmation that he understood, you both nodded at each other. Which appeared to be a reoccurrence lately.

Jumping into action, you snuck around in the shadows. Picking off each bandit one by one, until you had been caught by one on pure accident.

"Hey you!" the bandit shouted, garnering the attention of the last few bandits left. "The hell you sneaking around here for little girl?"

Your blood had boiled at the man's insidious comment, but you were so desperately trying to break free. Even call on your abilities, yet, his grip was far too great.

'Tristan, please..' You thought to yourself, still trying with every inch of your being to get away from the bandit. Hearing a sharp skidding around the corner your head whipped around to notice the answer to your short-slighted prayer.

"Let go of her!" Tristan shouted, his hands laying on the hilt of his swords. The bandit laughed, leaving you to grimace at such a horrible one, you never wanted to hear it again.

"And what?" The man replied, "What can a little boy like you can do?"

Tristan didn't respond, closing his eyes and murmuring a silent prayer to himself. The man was about to ask what the hell he was doing, yet nothing came out, only sputters of blood spilling from his mouth. The gut feeling of which you did not want to look as the hand that held your arm so tightly had loosened, and then, fallen off with a hard thud.

You look around until you spotted Tristan, sheathing his swords with harsh, heavy breathing impounding the structure of his body. You noticed finally, that he had called on the use of his goddess powers. For the act of killing, you almost would've thought that he would've called on the use of his demonic side.

Yet it appeared, that his goddess side of which, still held such deadly results.

#Tristan liones #4kota tristan #tristan 4kota #tristan x you #tristan x reader

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mariyekos · 1 month ago

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Netflix Devil May Cry Opening Breakdown Part 1

I'm a month late, but I finally scrounged up the time to watch the Netflix DMC Anime Trailer. This breakdown goes frame by frame in a lot of places, connecting what I can to other DMC materials and occasionally rambling on about where I think the Anime might be going. Part 2 can be found here, and Part 3 can be found here.

youtube

First thing: Song's fun. I don't have much to say there. It fits the spirit well enough.

So, swords! I labeled them below. Note that for swords that appear in multiple games, I put the design they most resemble. For example, Rebellion in DMC5 puts the ribcage on the blade part of the sword rather than leaving the ribs on their own like they are in DMC3/4 and in this image, so I attributed it to DMC3 instead. Side Note: The background really reminds me of the Bloody Palace in DMC5. The arena changes a bit as you ascend the tower so I don't remember quite which level this resembles, but it's one of them. Makes me think of how Nero gets those breaks in between floor sets where he can choose his devil breaker...

Also it's interesting to me how only 3 swords get detail: Red Queen, Rebellion, and Alastor. Vendetta doesn't really have any good places to pop, but Agni and Rudra could (the heads). It could just be that they only wanted to do it with the front swords. It could be they're doing it because the closeup means you don't see blood coming from the front three as you do all the others.

Here's my best attempt at labeling them. All of these are Dante's, besides Red Queen which is Nero's, and Cutlaseer which is Lucia's. The question mark is there because it's a bit of a stretch; Lucia's swords are a bit more curved, and it's hard to get a good idea of the top of the swords with Alastor in the way. They're my best guess so, so that's the label they get.

Actually- they look less like Cutlaseer at this angle. I'm a bit stumped on these. They don't look like Lucifer either. Cutlaseer's my best guess. I think they were going for pretty much all of the playable character swords besides the Sparda and DSD.

From there, some flashing. First we get Dante's face in the background behind the swords, then the scene goes blue and changes scenery entirely, with the Yamato replacing Rebellion.

Note the tsuba/hand guard: it is neither round (DMC3, DMC4) nor pronged (DMC5). It's angular, which most resembles Yamato in DMC1. Now it could just be some artistic license being applied to DMC3 Yamato since many things in the Netflix anime have been pretty angular, but it's definitely not DMC5 Yamato.

As for scenery, the first thing that comes to mind is the scene in DMC5 where the bridge breaks under V in Mission 5. It could just be the city in DMC3 where the Temen-ni-gru emerges, with the bridge either being broken as a result of the Temen-ni-gru rising or because it's not a super nice place and it simply hasn't been repaired after other damage. But I think it's really interesting that Dante's background is the demonic one (Bloody Palace/strange curving protrusions) while Vergil's is human (a human city, complete with telephone pole). The colors also work very nicely as they encompass both the darker blue of Vergil's coat and the lighter blue of his demonic energy. I do really enjoy the flicker/glitch where Yamato turns into Rebellion and vice versa; it's not just one disappearing and the other takign its place, but more like a piece by piece replacement, or slurring/blurring of existence. The same thing happens with Dante himself.

What really fascinates me is the below, blink and you'll miss it:

Dante with a blue glow from his eyes. Some blue-green waves come over the screen for a frame or two during the flickering of his face before this, but it's the blue lightning that gets me because that's Nelo Angelo's thing. Nevan and Alastor both have purple lightning, and neither has a focus on Dante's eyes. Nelo Angelo doesn't get a zoom into his eyes while he's sparking blue, but he DOES have a few scenes where the camera zooms on his eyes, and he does spark blue when he fights against Mundus' influence! Lightning sound effects and everything. Yes there's the blue cloud too, but the lightning starts first before the blue cloud envelops him and he's transported.

And back to Dante, interesting choice for them to get rid of his pupils there... Is it to show power? To look cool? Or is it a reference to a son of Sparda whose pupils weren't visible during his possession/when he wasn't in control of himself...?

I'm going to go with it being meant to look cool. The blue could just be here for contrast. I like that when Dante swaps to the red skin here, the color starts gradually encroaching upon his cheek before he snaps to totally red. The black sclera makes me think they're taking from the way Dante and Vergil's sclera were drawn black in the manga when using certain demonic powers. They went red in one of the first trailers too, so I'd bet that's what this is supposed to be. If you want to see my comment on the Game Awards trailer, you can find it here.

Dante runs ahead with Rebellion (which he either rips out of the ground or has magically teleport into his hand in an animation error because the grip is not in his grip to start. I'm going to go with him ripping it out of the ground because the color scheme here matches that of when Rebellion was in the ground earlier), and out of the sky comes...

Cavaliere Angelo from DMC5! Which is interesting. But not completely unreasonable, given Trish was only there to power it, and the armor had already been made by Machiavelli if my memory serves. Point is, yes we the fans know it from DMC5, but it would've existed during DMC3 too. It would just need a different host/fuel.

Next we've got a Category 5 Bunny Warning. The White Rabbit from the DMC3 Manga. Sky portals are nothing new in DMC- we've got the portal to Hell in the sky of DMC3, and a bunch of flying demons come out of a red sky in the original DMC anime after Sid opens the portal to get to Abigail.

Takeout. The guns Dante's had so far haven't been Ebony and Ivory, but the ovals on these are giving me some pause. I don't see the inscriptions on them, and them being the same shade doesn't make them seem like Ebony and Ivory, but they have the right parts. I don't know gun anatomy so sorry for butchering this, but see the lines on the right edge of the below image? the little dip/opening on the left side? The uh. It's on the left of the above image in red, and it's there in the below but in gray/black. I'm going to stop embarrassing myself now and just say look at them and the important fact that both sets of guns have the oval portrait. I think it might be an inscriptionless Ebony & Ivory or a prototype made by Nell.

Moving on, we get a shot of the city and some action happening in Dante's silhouette.

I really like the bits of color in the moving section on the right, because to me, they represent the core of who Dante is: his hair (white, from his father), his amulet (red, from his mother), and his guns (his own choice). All three are inherited or gifts from others in some way, if we consider the guns a gift from Nell. Dante is who he is because of others. But he's also taken those things and made them his own! Every other part of him is obscured, and only those three things show.

Strawberry sundaes and Jackpot bullets I think speak for themselves. I will say it's a bit interesting Dante seems to have physical bullets here. Ebony and Ivory run off demonic energy, though if my memory serves the Coyote-A ejects shells. Could be that he hasn't figured out the demonic energy thing, could be that his demonic energy manifests in bullets which have Jackpot engraved on them (I'm split between whether he'd have customized his gun to engrave that or whether he'd use demonic energy to carve them even if the bullets themselves are physical/tangible objects), could it be the animators just skipped over that detail for the sake of something fun? Who knows. I think it's cute.

After that we get a shot of the city in blue, then this:

Which could be absolutely nothing. As in, maybe it's just some shapes made to look creepy and fill space in a transition for a handful of frames. But I feel like it should be something, I'm just not sure what.

Maybe it's this. The craggy pit Dante leaps into while lighting strikes in the sky. A descent into Hell if you ask me. That Hell is in the ground this time is a fun detail.

I'm going to end this post here as I'm pretty sure I'll hit the image limit sooner or later. I'll make another later today on the rest of the opening, starting with Lady's appearance a few frames after this!

#erurandomness #devil may cry #dmc #netflix dmc #netflix devil may cry #dmc anime #dmcn #what was my tag for the netflix anime.... nxdmc???#i don't remember #Youtube

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duckymcdoorknob · 1 year ago

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𝓣𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝓪𝔂 15: 𝓣𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓵𝓮 𝓕𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽

Closest gif I could get of the two together 😭😭

Happy tkember and almost tkcember, chat!

I am loving one piece so far and I’m gonna make it everyone’s problem.

I’m listening to Ado rn :)

I had to throw in a little bit of ler Zoro bc have you seen him.

—This do have tickles below the cut ngl—

Tags: @chrimsss @trrickytickle @trans-ace-lee @giggly-squiggily @switch-writer

“I’m boooooooooored!” Luffy whined, hanging upside down on the bow of the ship. “Someone come play a game with me.”

“Busy,” the long-nosed pirate murmured, tinkering with some kind of device.

“But Usoooooooopp!” The captain moaned in agony.

How was he supposed to survive in these conditions? God gives his toughest battles to his silliest soldiers…

A glint of joy sparkled in his eye in a moment’s notice. “Hey! Wanna have a tickle fight?!”

The gunner visibly tensed, clamping his arms down to his sides. “No way! I’m- I’m working on something!”

“But you’re so fun to play games with! And I have to know if you’re ticklish!!”

Growing more flustered and frustrated, Usopp barked out an absentminded response. “Come over and make me then!”

“Hehe, okay,” Luffy replied with a Cheshire grin. He stretched his arm out to grab the pole next to his crewmate, letting his body cling to said position.

A small squeak left the gunner as his eyes widened. “Uh… h-hi.”

“Hi!” The stretchy boy cooed, “betcha’ forgot I could do that, huh?”

Usopp did not like the menacing look that was glinting in his captain’s eyes. He shifted apprehensively as he slowly tried to step back. He looked for an exit, eyes darting drastically around the ship. He locked onto Sanji serving some kind of snack to Zoro and Nami, opting to break into a full sprint toward the three.

“SAVE MEEEE! SAAAAAVE MEEEE!!!!!”

Six concerned eyes snapped to the frantic Usopp, who was running from a sadistically smiling Luffy. The three relaxed, realizing that Usopp wasn’t actually in any real danger.

“Well, what did you do to piss him off?” Zoro asked as the curly-haired male jumped onto him. “H-Hey! What are you-“ Instinctively, his arms closed securely around his shipmate.

“Zoroooo, he’s gonna kill me!” Usopp cried, drastically hugging the burly man holding him.

“NUH UH!” The captain called after them, making his way over, “I told you, I just wanted to have a tickle fight!”

“And I said I was- HYEAH!”

The long-nosed pirate was cut off by sudden, repeated pinches to his hips, jumping a bit in the swordsman’s tight hold. “H-Hey- EEP! S-Stahap Zoro!”

“What? I’m not doin’ nothin’… Jeez…”

“B-Buhut you a-ahare!”

“Hey! No fair! I was supposed to tickle him!!” Luffy whined, pouting with his arms crossed.

“Oh yeah? Well-“ Zoro hooked his arms under the gunner’s biceps, causing the latter to kick his feet in defense. “Go for it, Captain.”

That glint of joy and menace found its way back, with Luffy settling in front of his shipmates and reaching up to wiggle his fingers at their gunner.

“Waitwaitwaitwait! Can’t we talk about this?!?! I’m sure we can make some kind of ar-ahahahangemehehent! Nohohoho!”

The captain giggled along with Usopp as he spidered his fingers along the long-nosed pirate’s sides.

“Luhuhuffyhyhy! Zohohohoro! Stahahap!”

“Stop? Already? But this is supposed to be a tickle fight!” Luffy cooed, squishing the soft torso of their gunner.

“Yohohou’rehehe uhuhunfahahair! Luhuhuhuffyhyhy!”

“Unfair?! You can get me back anytime you want; I’ll even tell you that I’m most ticklish on my ribs! Hey… speaking of which…”

Usopp’s eyes shot open as he felt Luffy’s fingers worm up onto his ribcage. He kicked his feet drastically, accidentally slamming his ankle down on his captain’s shoulder. “LUHUHUFFYHYHY! HYEAHAHAHAHA!”

“Yeowch… No need to get so violent with him, Usopp.” Zoro quipped, clamping his own arms to his sides and trapping the latter’s there. He spidered his fingers under both of the gunner’s arms, cracking an evil smile.

“NGHAHAHAHA! GUHUHUHUYS!” The curly-haired pirate squealed as he threw his head back onto Zoro’s shoulder.

“This tickle fight seems pretty one-sided to me,” Nami quipped, casually chewing on a piece of cheese.

“Just glad it isn’t me,” Sanji retorted quickly, shifting a bit.

The two locked eyes… oh shit.

“MEHEHEHRCYHYHY!! I CAHAHAHANT TAHAHAKE IHIHIHIT! TOO MUHUHUHUCH!!” Usopp cried, head unmoving from Zoro’s shoulder.

Zoro ceased his attack, freeing the long-nosed pirate’s arms.

“LUHUHUHUFFYHYHY PLEHEHEHEASE! M’GOHOHONNA DIHIHIHIE!”

“Hey, enough kid.” Zoro scooped up the winded Usopp, whisking him away to safety.

“Oh man! I didn’t know that you were so ticklish, Usopp! That was fun!”

“F-for YOU! I thought I was gonna die you motherf-“

Sanji whizzed past the three of them, Nami hot on their heels. “NAMI NO- WE CAN TALK ABOUT THIS!”

“You’d think with such long legs that you’d be able to outrun me, Sanji!” The orange-haired girl chimed as she tackled the chef, her fingers finding refuge squeezing at the blonde’s thighs.

“Heh, get his ass Nami!” Zoro called, still absentmindedly cradling Usopp in a safe embrace.

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

#t content #augtickletober2023 #one piece #one piece anime #luffy #monkey d luffy #Usopp #one piece usopp #one piece luffy #one piece tickle #lee!usopp #lee!luffy #ler!usopp #ler!luffy #tickletober #I am so late with these

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holly-louisexox · 10 months ago

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Ribcage X Andy Biersack- Part 20

Masterlist

"There's one thing you should know about me Delia Vincent, I don't date. Got no heart to break and emptiness is safe, keep it that way."

He was adamant in his choices…

…But then things changed.

"I'm giving you guys the all clear to go out tonight and celebrate after the show if you so wish to, it is important that you all stick together please. There is higher security in and around the venue, there will also be tighter security around you guys. Please do no feel threatened, they are simply there for your safety and the safety of the fans and nothing else. Any questions or concerns from any of you at any point do not hesitate to drop us a message."

—————————

"Seattle, how are we feeling tonight?" Andy asks into the microphone earning screams to fill the venue. "We're going to kill the vibe a little bit now, this is King of Pain."

Andy always used to hate singing this song live, he only did it for the fans, but note the word used. He would always filter his emotions as not to upset himself, but now, now all he could think about was how much he missed the attention of another. He almost craved the feeling of love again, but he didn't know how to show it, he had been wearing this mask for so long now that it was hard to remove it. He even wondered if he was confusing love with lust. Sure, he had slept around and found women who were insanely attractive and lust was in the moment, but this feeling lingered, it seemed strongest to him almost as if his body was screaming at him, as if his mind was begging for a release from all the pent up feelings and the pretending to be fine. It was almost as if he had a heart of fire that was burning for anyone to notice his cries. No, not just anyone, his heart was yearning for a specific someone.

"I cannot see what's become of life, it's all just passing by." Andy sings into the microphone. It was then he felt every emotion hit him. Every single thing he had kept locked away for so long came spilling out, he knew exactly why this was happening too. Looking up to where he knew Delia would be sitting he tried his hardest to continue the song and not let it show how much his body was begging for that emotional release, his body was close to betraying him, incredibly close, but he had to keep singing this last song before the encore. Despite how hard Andy tried to conceal every ounce of emotion he was feeling, Lonny saw right through the act; and recognised it as the same emotion Delia had poured out on him the night before. "So don't walk away, I'll keep you safe, forget promises that we made."

Delia noticed Andy looking at her again, she always did, but this time it felt different. Andy seemed vulnerable at this very moment, she could almost feel the sorrow radiating off him. The lyrics he was singing to her were different this time though. Normally, he would sing lyrics she guessed was him almost trying to steer her off track, this wasn't that though. It seemed he was almost trying to beg for forgiveness but Delia was not about to give him that, not after the way he had hurt her. Regardless, Delia could not get herself to look away from Andy, she felt as if something was pulling her towards him, she so desperately wanted to believe what he sang; she didn't want to walk away, she wanted nothing more than to be with him and feel safe in his arms, but with his unpredictable mood swings safe was one thing she'd never feel around Andy Biersack.

As the song comes to a close, Delia watches as Andy takes a deep breath, the tension in his shoulders evident, before raising his microphone to speak again "Thank You Seattle, you've been amazing!" The whole band are then running off stage.

————————

"Andy are you okay dude? You seem really on edge." Jinxx asks looking at his lead singer who looked slightly pale and was as stiff as a metal pole.

"I've made a mistake and I've been nothing but a dick. CC you were right, you were fucking right and I should have listened rather than let this fake ego of mine take over." Andy begins feeling the tears he was holding on to for so long start to fall down his face. "I slept with Delia, twice, and now... now I can't stop thinking about her. I think I've fallen for her."

"Andy, I'm... I'm so sorry. I didn't erm, I didn't actually want to be right man." CC trails off in both shock and sorrow whilst the rest of the band also stand there looking at Andy in shock.

"If you even want to stand a chance you've got one hell of an apology to make." Lonny starts "You hurt her a lot, I don't think she'll forgive that quickly, especially as she was growing very fond of you before you ruined it and went back to your ways by saying what you did the other night."

"I know, I know I've hurt her multiple times and each time it's killed me. I can't keep pretending like this." Andy sighs wiping under his eyes whilst trying to make sure he didn't ruin his stage make up "I'm gonna make it right though, I have to make it right."

"Well let's go smash out this encore then we work on that apology and get you and Delia your happy ending." CC smiles whilst patting Andy on the back which makes the singer nod.

——————————-

"We all survived lads!" CC screams as they approach the bar they were to go for a few drinks. No one felt comfortable with clubbing or drinking too much tonight but a few drinks would never hurt anyone.

"First round is on me, consider it your Christmas present from me!" Jake laughs as he walks over to the bar leaving the rest of the group to find a table.

The anxiety Andy was feeling was like nothing he had ever felt. Yes he had struggled with anxiety for a long time and the ADHD made it worst for him at moments but he had mostly had it all under control until now. It was almost as if he wanted to start bouncing off the walls or do anything to release this nervous energy.

Seeing Delia appear next to him very quickly and briefly made him want to just reach for her hand and hold it in his. To bring her close and just kiss her, right here in front of everyone. But he knew he couldn't do. He had fucked up possibility beyond repair. He had to repair this though.

Delia could feel the anxiety that Andy was experiencing. She wanted nothing more than to hug him and tell him it would all be okay and to try to bring the slightly older man some comfort. But he had hurt her, he made how he felt extremely clear to her so now she was left to try and pick up the pieces and get over him. Now she was left to try her hardest to ignore him for these last few hours she would be spending with him.

"So Delia, you got any nice plans for Christmas?" Lonny asks trying to start conversation at the table to make it less awkward, all the while everyone in the band were quickly passing glances to Andy to get him to talk to Delia.

"Not really, I'll just be going back to Ohio and staying with my parents. It's always just been the 3 of us." Delia smiles at the thought of seeing her parents again, she was definitely missing them despite having fun and enjoying every moment on this tour.

"I'm actually planning on visiting Ohio over Christmas, maybe we could meet up?" Andy suggests feeling his nerves intensify.

"I didn't think you had spoken to your parents in a while Andy?" Shevy asks in genuine curiosity.

"I haven't but I erm... I want to surprise them." He fakes a smile. He mostly wanted to see Delia if she'd let him but he supposed he should also see his parents again after cutting them off. It got to the point where they kept asking about Juliet and how he was doing and it became too much so he cut ties and didn't look back. Now he's realising the mistake in doing that.

"I feel like you'll be too busy with your parents to meet up with me by the sounds of it Andy." Delia shrugs slightly. The thought of Andy visiting her in Ohio made her stomach jump, but she couldn't allow that of him. She couldn't allow him to get close to her, not after how he's already hurt her.

"Delia, could we maybe talk to each other somewhere away from the group?" Andy suddenly asks, better to get it over with right? This sudden bold move from Andy shocked both Delia and Shevy whilst the band were sat there trying to hide their smiles that Andy was actually able to gain the courage.

"Sure." Delia nods standing up to follow him whilst mentally tying to put up her defences to prepare herself for whatever hurtful thing he was about to say. It not like she's see him again after tonight so it didn't really matter to her that much anymore. "What do you want Andy?"

"Look I've been a fucking dick and I know that and I'm so sorry. I know sorry doesn't cut it but honestly I really am." Andy is almost pleading Delia for forgiveness as he can feel his emotions coming through again, even Delia could see him becoming emotional but she wasn't about to let her guard down.

"Yeah, you're right, sorry doesn't cut it. You humiliated me Andy, saying what you said in front of the band made it pretty damn clear we had done something which, by the way, is the one thing you didn't want Lonny to spill yet you went and spilt it!" Delia growls slightly, she'd be damned if she were to forgive Andy after all the shit he'd put her through. "Honestly it was really a great act you put on. You made me think that you were actually starting to care for me and I like an idiot let you in, even Shevy and Lonny were convinced we could of had something but instead I'm the idiot sound tech woman who slept with the slutty lead singer and is left heartbroken."

"Delia, please understand, I never meant to hurt you, not like this." Andy pleads.

"Well you did!" Delia shouts back.

"Look Delia, I don't really know how else to say this." Andy sighs before placing a hand on Delia's arm gently.

"Get off me." Delia shrugs his hand off her. As much as she wanted to deny the frenzy her body felt from his touch she couldn't lean into it, she would not lean into it.

"The divorce with my ex wife fucked me up big time and I didn't want to get close to anyone, I didn't think I could deal with that heartbreak again so I turned off any emotions I may have had. But then you came along and it's like I forgot how to control my head. Suddenly it was you I thought about when I woke and when I went to sleep, it was you who flooded my every thought and being. The idea of never seeing you again after tonight hurts, it feels like my heart may burst from the pain of that thought." Andy confesses as he desperately wants to reach for Delia's hands but after how she shrugged his hand off her arm he knew that would not be a good idea.

"Yet you were the one who specifically said to me that you never wanted to see me again after tonight!" Delia uses his own words against him making Andy's heart shatter. He knew he fucked up but he didn't realise it was this bad.

"Delia, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that." Andy begs feeling tears fall down his face "I know I've fucked up and said some awful things but please give me a chance to prove myself to you. One chance I beg."

"You know what Andy? Fuck you!" Delia shouts before slapping him round the face with an open palm leaving him stood there with a look of pure hurt. Seeing him look like that broke her heart, especially knowing she caused it but she could not forgive him that easily after all the pain he caused her. Instead, she decided she needed to get away, especially when she saw Shevy come walking towards them. Delia needed to leave this building and leave it now.

"Delia! Delia, where are you going?" Shevy calls.

"I'm going to the hotel." Delia tries her best not to cry.

"I'll come with you, it's not safe!" Shevy states "stay here and let me grab my bag and we'll go."

"Shevy I'll be fine, I just, I need to be alone." Delia shakes her head feeling the tears start to fall. At that moment Delia doesn't hesitate to walk out of the bar, not even taking a second look back at Andy or any of the band.

"What the fuck did you do Andy? You know what, I don't want to know. I hope you're proud of yourself though because now you've really fucked up. You just love to go that extra step don't you?" Shevy shouts at Andy who just stands there with tears rolling down his face.

"Shevy, it wasn't like that. I apologised, I told her everything. I... I've fallen for her Shevy but now it's too late, she hates me and it's all my fault." Andy sobs just as the rest of the band start approaching Andy to try and comfort him.

"Andy... I'm so sorry." Shevy gasps.

————————

Walking out of the bar Delia is instantly met with the cold night air which, in this current moment, she embraced and found comfort in. Delia never expected to actually hear Andy Biersack open up to her, yet alone to say he had fallen for her the same way she had for him. Seeing his tears had upset her but she couldn't forget how he had made her feel. Maybe she was a little harsh? Maybe she should turn around and go back in there? Wrap her arms around him and kiss the tears away like you see in those cheesy movies. But this wasn't a cheesy rom com, this was real life. With how his mood swings were, who's to say that he won't change his mind and go back to upsetting her, who's to say this wasn't all part of the game.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry!" Delia suddenly heard a voice as she feels a body barge into hers nearly knocking her over.

"No no it's completely fine, I was standing in the way so it's likely my fault." Delia smiles turning around to see a tall blonde man standing and looking at her smiling.

"I wasn't looking where I was going I'm equally to blame." The blonde guy continues to smile at her. "I'm Sam. Can I buy you a drink as an apology?"

"Thanks but I was just leaving." Delia nods awkwardly looking down at her feet.

"Oh yeah, course. A pretty girl like you must have places to go." He nods understandably. "How about we just hug it out?"

"Erm... sure." Delia replies a little confused, strangers normally weren't this friendly, but they were at a bar so maybe he had just had a few drinks and was feeling generous.

Hugging this guy was nice, but nowhere near as nice as Andy felt. He didn't have the same warmth as Andy. No, Delia was determined to forget about Andy and his ways.

As Delia pulled away from the hug, she suddenly felt something cover her nose and mouth and just as quickly as it happened, she saw the world around her going fuzzy and black; the last thing she saw was Sam was the one holding the cover to her face and he was grinning wickedly at her.

#andy biersack #andy black #andy bvb #cc bvb #jake bvb #jake pitts #jinxx bvb #lonny bvb #lonny eagleton #black veil brides #bvb #black veil brides fanfic #bvb fanfic

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nrcsfavoriteshrimps · 6 months ago

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Mother Dearest: Final Stand

Ai Lian scoffs, “Typical. Fine then, I’ll teach you a lesson!”

She stomps on the ground, causing the earth below to break and rise into jagged spikes. Without batting an eye, Wuzhi leaps from platform to platform, using his new staff as a pole vault. He lands perfectly in front of the rocks, his staff returning to his hand like a boomerang. “My turn!”

Wuzhi hops up and swings his staff. Ai Lian tries to block it with a wall of stone, but his staff goes right through it!

“Wha—AGH—” She doesn’t get to finish her rage-filled shouts, the end of Wuzhi’s staff slamming into her ribcage. She swings her fist, only for Wuzhi to dodge by turning into a sparrow.

He reforms into himself behind her. “Missed me~!” He taunts, leaning back on his staff. He bounces off the ground using his tail as a spring, launching a water attack at Ai Lian.

Ai Lian reflects the attack with a powerful plant spell, sending Wuzhi flying back. This time, instead of slamming into the wall like before, he lands on his feet, pushing against the wall to swing at her yet again. She takes the hit, countering with another earth spell that launches rocks straight at him. He blocks each of them, deflecting each by swinging the staff like a baseball bat.

“Why are you being so DIFFICULT?!” Ai Lian shouts, sending a flurry of various spells in Wuzhi’s direction. Yet somehow, he comes out unscathed.

“Because you’re only family by blood!” He shouts back, pulling some hair from her head and blowing on it. This causes each strand to turn into a clone of Wuzhi, each floating around and surrounding Ai Lian. Each one of them speaks, their voices booming in the corridor, “I was never allowed to be who I wanted! I had to conform to your rules, to your perceptions! And when I went to war, you didn’t care! You’ve done nothing but hurt me! You’re not a mother, you’re a monster!”

“NOW LET ME GO!!!”

Every clone syncs its attacks, all leaping to land one final blow on Ai Lian.

Dust fills the room. Once it clears, Wuzhi is standing above the unconscious body of his ‘mother’. He pants as he catches his breath, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. The golden circlet fades from view as his eyes return to their usual cool brown…but the tail stays.

“Haah…” Wuzhi sighs, snapping their fingers. The crimson spider lilies burst into flames, returning the lost magic to everyone.

He falls to his knees, clutching the staff like a crutch.

“…I…I won…”

#nrcsfavoriteshrimp #twisted wonderland #twst rp #twisted wonderland rp #disney twisted wonderland #twst oc #ai wuzhi #ai wuzhi: mother dearest

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callmrmorrow · 1 month ago

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i see your collective hopes for this fic and i’ve taken them into account. sort of. from what i recall, i saw hurt/no comfort, hugs, multidimensional soulmates, more hugs, and giving mark the happiness and his break that he deserves. did i mention hugs?

with equal enjoyment and acknowledgement from every suggestion, i decided that the opening scene was going to include absolutely none of this.

i’m sure you were all secretly yearning for a slow-burn mark x reader where you are catapulted back in time to change things for the better, with only fleeting dreams and memories of what your world once was. i’m sure you were all hoping for a season one experience full of looking into nolan grayson’s eyes and feeling a cesspit of terror in your gut for no reason other than instinct and muddled nightmares (spoiler! he may or may not have killed you). i’m sure you were all hoping for a strangers-to-friends-to-enemies-to-lovers-to-embittered-rivals-to… you get the point. i’m sure we (yes, WE, as in ALL OF US) will enjoy the suffering i’ll put you and mark through when the inevitable question is brought to face: are you a hero or are you a human? what is heavier, the weight of the world or the weight of who you left behind to go and save it?

anyway. here’s the opening scene. tw: gore, death, all the shit that happens in invincible but i’d really rather be safe than sorry. bonus points if ur an avid comics fan who can pick up on the overarching plot of the story from this scene alone. i’m not so subtle.

CHICAGO’S BURNING.

These two words are the only ones you can string together over the widening gap between reality and impossibility. Smoke paints a sickly haze from the cracked concrete beneath you to the clouds overhead. Your eyelids flutter, irises flitting erratically, catching blurred glimpses of an upended subway car, and then another, and another. Red paints everything, almost blurring the details of arms, legs, torsos and heads flung about the station like dirty laundry.

Above you, concrete frames a milky blue patch, bleak sunlight breaching the grey. The skyline’s been shattered. Someone’s wailing off-set that of the police sirens — somebody please help — and with a sharp pain you remember to breathe.

It’s a wet inhale, choking on blood. Agony explodes out from your ribcage, and you glance down to see the bad end of a bright yellow pole sticking out where your stomach should be. Blood is still spurting from the entry point and pooling around you on uneven rubble. Your vision whites out at the sight, and a broken noise jumps from your lungs to your lips.

Memory, faint as your heartbeat, returns in throbbing pulses. Giving your seat to the elderly woman. Jostling the crowd for a handhold. Checking your phone for new messages. The sudden, metal-rending stop, everything splitting in two and a welter of voices, impatient shuffling, turning to screams and squelches. Packed in like canned fish.

“[Y/N]?”

You turn to the voice instinctively, and your vision whites out again as agony lances through your skull like electricity. Something warm trickles down your temple, as your cheek rests against a torn chunk of concrete. Your eyes refocus on the too-familiar form of your brother, one arm extended out towards you and the rest of his body crushed under a slab of cement. You can barely see him in its shadow, but a splotch of color draws your eye despite yourself. A ruined gift bag. Spilling out is a new sweater, one that would’ve been your favorite color if it wasn’t soaked crimson.

With every ounce of effort you reach out for him. “Hey, hey,” you manage, the pain not so overwhelming as the panic, the instinct of an older sister. “It’s okay, it’s gonna be—“

Something crushes the concrete slab above him. His extended arm goes limp, crushed from the elbow up. Everything else goes dark except for his twitching fingers, and your ears begin to ring.

It doesn’t feel real, because it can’t be real. He’s still alive because he has to be, and it couldn’t be all over just like that. You command your arm to move towards your brother’s, fingers brushing his as you try to grab on. The pole locks you in place and you let out a whimper as you try to move ever closer. “Come on, please, come on—“

Another voice breaks through the ringing in your ears. ”No, no, wait— wait!“

Pressure on the side of your head makes you freeze.

“What’re you gonna do, Mark?” A voice from overhead asks, uncannily familiar and inhumanly cold. “You can’t stop me. And you shouldn’t even want to. This world — everyone in it — is pathetic! You and I are so far beyond these insects.”

The pressure increases with no hesitation, and on nothing but instinct, your hand stops reaching for your brother and comes up to grip whatever is pushing you into the concrete. Your fingers scrabble to pull it off, but you’d have better luck lifting an entire building. It — you’re beginning to think it’s someone’s boot — drives its heel into the side of your face.

“Get off m—“

You don’t get to finish. A sickening pop dislocates your jaw, hanging loose off your face. You let out a gurgling shriek.

“Stop!” The second person yells, voice cracking in anguish. “Please, just— You don’t have to do this. You— you don’t think they’re pathetic. You…”

The voices continue on, and you wish more than anything that you could look over and see whoever was trying to save you from the literal hydraulic press over your head. But your vision’s blocked by a lattice of rebar and cement. The boot presses harder, and you can feel your bones straining, every nerve in your body shrieking. Your vision was going out — it seemed predisposed to doing that now — and white was encroaching on the edges of your sight. Your brother’s hand was beginning to distort itself, taking on a strange bluish-white glow.

Your hand slipped back towards him, giving up on stopping the inevitable, reaching out again. You found yourself thinking you’d feel much better if you could hold his hand one last time before it all went out.

The white light pouring from his fingertips latched onto yours, racing up your arm. Suddenly, all you heard was a voice. Not from the two men in the subway, killer and witness, but from all around you, within you, between and beyond everything.

Is this what you want?

Your response bypassed the strangeness of it all, the hallucinatory nature of what was happening. Maybe this was the path to the afterlife. If it was, you weren’t so ready to walk it.

No. God, no.

What would you give to fix it?

You heard something in your head crack like a whip — your skull, cracked like a melon. You were bleeding from the eyes now, you could feel the indomitable pressure popping them from their sockets. You weren’t even sure you were alive anymore, but you still found it within yourself to answer.

Everything.

i’ve seen a considerable amount of people yearning for a slow-burn mark grayson x reader

coincidentally i have a project on the back burner involving mark and a vigilante!reader with time-based powers

to anyone who sees this yall got any particular like… “tropes” (i hate to write on tropes but ykwim) or romantic plotlines that you’d find interesting? (i already have the character set up) if this gets no responses i’m going my own way and as someone who doesn’t have mark in my own top 5 it’s gonna involve a lot of hurt and not a lot of comfort

but if that’s what you like.

#invincible fanfic #mark grayson x reader #invincible x reader #📞 OUT OF TIME #i love time travel #mark grayson

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moodymisty · 2 years ago

Note

How does tech react to reader safewording out? Or just tech aftercare pls <33

Author's note: Yesss! I've been meaning to write about something like this, thanks for giving me the perfect segway.

Relationships: Tech/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Lewd but not full nsfw, Mentions of sex and bondage, Fluffy fluff, Some gentle aftercare,

With you’re with Tech, one becomes distinctly familiar with experimentation.

There’s so many times where Tech has come to you wishing to try something new; To see how either of you will react. You’ve cum so many times at this point you feel like an absolute mess, barely able to tell up from down. Your legs hurt, arms, wrists; From where he’d previously had you tied to the support pole of the Marauder’s bunk rack.

You still feel your heart racing, but it’s no longer trying to break from your ribcage the way it had been earlier.

Tech however, laying beside you is also out of breath, but no where to the degree you are. He brushes a hand over his hair, looking over you.

“Are you sufficiently satisfied?”

‘What a romantic way to word it’, you think, with all the fondness in the galaxy. It’s Tech; He speaks his own language and you love every word of it.

“You can only fuck my brains out so much, Tech.”

Damn clone libido… It finally caught up with you.

Tech however ignores your quip much to your surprise, and instead begins searching for the bottom half of his blacks through the crumbled blankets and various other clothing items. You’d both snuck out into the Marauder while everyone else was off elsewhere, leaving the two of you alone for at least a few hours.

Needless to say, you’d taken good advantage of the time.

Finally having found the bottom half of his blacks, he slips them on and slides off the bunk, telling you he’ll only be gone for a moment. He just snags some water for the both of you, and returns to see you using the top half of his blacks as a loose top, handing you the container of water as he gently takes your wrist and examines it. He brushes his thumb along our skin, from where he’d tied you up.

“Does this hurt in any way?” He presses softly against the inside of your wrist, as you shake your head and hum. Satisfied that you weren’t hurt in anyway, he softly returns your hand. “Do you require anything, love?”

“A soak in a nice bath would be the dream…” You say it overly wistfully, as Tech moves to slide onto the bunk right beside you as you take a drink.

“The Marauder can only do a short shower as of this moment unfortunately,” Tech mumbles the second half of his sentence largely to himself. “Though perhaps I could include upgrades to the refresher on my current list of tasks.” Leaning back enough that you can do so, you move to lay partly over his stomach, chin against his sternum. He takes a moment to gently brush his hand over your hair, his touch soft.

“Tech, don’t tell me you’re already brainstorming.” He just barely cracks a smile, feeling your hands on him. He secretly loves the way you look right now in his clothes, he considers not mentioning that he needs it back soon it in the hopes you’ll keep it and use it more often.

“Not quite. Though this rare amount of quiet would nice applicable for that sort of thing.” Laughing you crawl up just enough to give him a kiss on the lips, his hands resting on the small of your back. One does leave however, and gently grasps you hand once again. You roll your eyes.

“Tech, I told you it doesn’t hurt.” He lets go only once he’s satisfied.

“There is no harm in being sure.” You don’t know how long the two of you just lay back and relax, before the idea of cleaning up is a little bit too tempting to take advantage of. Especially when the ship is currently empty other than you two. Speaking up, Tech’s eyes perk up to look at you from where they’d been resting and taking in the entire scene.

“How about a shower?” Tech’s eyebrows raise, looking at you.

“Are you merely stating your current intent, or is that an invitation?” Sliding off of his chest you slowly move to get up, and Tech follows; Holding out a hand for you just in case.

“That’s up to you~”

#tech x reader #tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #Tech/Reader #the bad batch tech x reader #mywriting #reader insert #reader

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forever-rogue · 2 years ago

Note

Fluff idea: Eddie attempts to roller skate ?

AN | We have Eddie attempting to roller skate and fools in love! 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"This is absolutely ridiculous," it was a groan from the boy as he looked up at you from the ground. His plush pink lips were formed into a pout as you tried your best not to laugh at him. You held out your hand to help him up, but he shook his head and waved your hand away, "I can't do this."

“Of course you can,” a soft insistence followed by an even gentler smile as you crouched down so you were at eye-level with him, “it just takes practice and patience.”

“I’ve been doing the one and am running short on the other,” there was a boyish quality to his face as he slowly climbed and stumbled his way to his feet like a baby giraffe. He’d ignored your hand and chose instead to hang onto the nearby pole, “this is cursed! How can you do this so easily? Satan couldn’t do this so easily…you must be Satan! All wrapped up in a pretty, innocent package!”

“You better get on your knees and worship me then,” you teased and his cheeks went from a rosy pink to crimson red, “that’s what you do isn’t it?”

He almost fell again at your little wink as he murmured under his breath, “these things are coming off!”

“Calm down,” you giggled as you bent down to help him untie the laces to the roller skates, “wait - you think I’m pretty?”

“I…” oh shit. Eddie had meant it, he just hadn’t meant to say it out loud. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, gaping like a fish out of water. The little smile and those big doe eyes of yours was going to be the death of him, “I meant…ummm. I- ugh-”

“I’m just teasing Eddie,” you winked and loosened the skates on his feet. You hadn’t been teasing, you had wanted to know. That was the curse of being in unrequited love with your best friend; sometimes you couldn’t help but flirt. Then it came back without reciprocity and made you wish the ground would swallow you whole. But that didn’t happen so instead you focused on his feet, “alright, you should be able to step out of them now.”

You held out your arm for him to grasp so he wouldn’t fall, keeping your eyes away from his. You swore those pretty honeyed brown eyes could see right through you and he’d pick up on the fact that something was wrong. And Eddie being wonderful, loving, persistent Eddie, would never let it go.

His heart was raging in his chest, so loud and obvious to him that he was surprised you couldn’t hear it. He was even more surprised it didn’t crack and burst through his ribcage. His hold on your arm was so gentle and tender, his brain going into sensory overload at how impossibly soft your skin felt under his guitar string scarred and calloused fingertips, and it made him want to touch you all over, to map out every single curve and slope of your body.

He reminded himself that he was supposed to step out of the skates and pulled himself together just enough to do so, murmuring a soft thanks.

“I’m just glad I didn’t break an arm,” he joked, trying to force some semblance of normalcy back between the two of you, “couldn’t imagine not being able to shred for weeks.”

“I wouldn’t let anything happen,” you promised softly, skating over towards your shoes and tossing his sneakers over to him, “but if you don’t like skating, we don’t have to do it again. I-I dunno, it’s probably silly anyway…I just thought it would be fun to do together.”

His heart constricted at the way sadness colored your features. He hadn’t meant to make you feel like this was a bad idea or that it wasn’t fun - he did have fun, and was enjoying himself. You could have taken him to a lecture on different methods of whittling and he would have had fun. Everything was so much better with you; even on his darkest days your voice or even the smallest of your pretty smiles made everything better.

“I-I had fun,” he insisted, reaching to wrap his hand around your wrist. You’d moved out of his reach and started putting your own shoes back on, “really.”

“‘s okay,” you insisted with a meek little smile, “really Eddie.”

You weren’t convincing him or yourself and immediately his mind went into overdrive. He was going to make you see he was being serious and - if he managed up the courage - that his feelings ran deeper than just friendly. He just had to figure out how, but when Eddie Munson was determined to do something, he did it.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next two weeks were torturous…Eddie wasn’t even sure how he’d survived if he was being quite honest. Even since the afternoon of failed roller skating you’d distanced yourself from him, and it just broke his fucking heart. Something had shifted between the two of you and he wasn’t sure how to address it.

He’d trying finding you at work at the coffee shop but you never seemed to be there when he showed up (you were busy hiding in the back, which you were both aware of), when he called you were never able to talk on the phone, when he stopped by your house you weren’t there (you were, he knew from the fact that your car was parked in the driveway), and when he’d see your friends you never happened to be around.

How convenient. But that wasn’t going to stop him. It might have made his job a little harder, but that wasn’t going to deter him. Not when it came to you.

So that’s why, one Friday evening while you were home, missing none other than Eddie Munson while you were moping about, you received a sweet little surprise. You were curled up in bed, nursing a pint of ice cream as you watched some cheesy old romance movie. You weren’t really paying attention, but it was just enough to keep your mind from spiraling too much.

When you heard the soft tapping on your window, you almost threw your spoon across the room in surprise. You clutched your rapidly beating heart as you set the ice cream down and padded over to the window. You were positive it was Steve coming to watch a movie or something, but when you pulled back the curtain your heart almost stopped when you found Eddie looking at you with nervous eyes and a wickedly pretty smile.

“Eddie?” you slowly opened the window and gave him a confused expression, “what are you doing here?”

“I’m here,” he reached behind his back and held out a small fistful of daisies, looking at you with a hopeful expression, “to see you, pretty girl.”

“Eddie,” you took the flowers with a tentative, shaky hand, almost joling when your fingers brushed against his. The small flowers were so pretty and made your heart soften. Eddie Munson had gotten you flowers! He let out a nervous laugh, “what are these for?”

“Daisies are your favorite,” of course he remembered. Eddie Munson remembered almost every little detail about you, “and I…fuck, I’m nervous. But umm…do you remember a few weeks ago when we were at the skate park and you asked if I thought you were pretty?”

“Jesus Eddie, it was just a-a joke,” you tried to play it off but he wasn’t having, “it didn’t mean anything.”

“Oh?” he cocked an eyebrow, “is that why you’ve been avoiding me for the last weeks? Because it meant nothing?”

“I wasn’t,” a weak little that held no weight.

“I’m a lt of things, but I’m not stupid,” he teased, “please…I…I did say that. And I mean it. I think you’re pretty - beautiful. The most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes on.”

“Eddie,” you pouted at him, “don’t tease.”

“‘m not,” he reached over and put his hand under your chin tilting your face up so you were looking at him, “never. I…there’s so many things I want to say and I don’t think I’d ever be able to say them right and it might take me years to say them all because the list of reasons why I’m in love with you is crazy long. So I’ll start with yes, I think you’re pretty, beautiful, lovely, sexy, cute - all of it.”

“What did you just say?” you were either losing your mind or…Eddie Munson had really just confessed his love for you.

“Ummm…which part, angel? I’m kind of rambling here and just throwing it all out there.”

“You’re…in love with me?” your voice was barely above a whisper but his whole face lit up and fuck, it was a gorgeous sight.

“Yeah,” he nodded happily, “have been wfor a long time.”

“Oh…I…” words weren’t on your side so instead of saying anything, you leaned in and pressed your lip against his in a soft, saccharine little kiss. He seemed taken aback for a moment but then cupped your cheek tenderly, kissing you more and more until you were dizzied and breathless and smiling at him shyly.

“Can I take this to mean you feel the same way?” he’d ever felt so nervous in his entire life and he prayed that he hadn't just made a huge mistake, “or am I a big fuckin’ fool?”

“You are,” Eddie relaxed; that sweet little smile had made its way back onto his face, “but for a lot of other reasons. But I do feel the same way. I’m in love with you, Eddie Munson.”

“Yeah?” his smile was hopeful and his eyes were practically glittering with excitement. You worried your bottom lip but nodded slowly as you, “wow.”

“Oh Eddie,” it was a wistful little sigh that had him leaning in and stealing a few more soft kisses, “you came here right now for that?”

“And there’s one more thing…”

“Which is?”

“Will you, my angel, light and love of my life, go roller skating with me?” he reached behind his back and held up a pair of roller skates, flourishing them happily. The megawatt smile threatened to break your face as you looked at him with nothing short of reverent adoration.

“But I thought you hated it?” you asked softly but he shook his curly head.

“I hate being terrible at something that should be easy,” he confessed, “but I had a ton of fun with you. Even if you were picking me off the ground more than anything. I kinda…wanted to seem cool but I was anything but.”

“You’re always metal as fuck,” you grinned as he looked at you in surprise.

“Look at you cursing baby, I really am a bad influence on you,” he shot you a wink as your face warmed up, “what do you say? W\ill you teach me how to skate?”

“I dunno,” you teased and his mouth turned up in a small smirk, “you were pretty bad, Mr. Munson. If I agree, what’s in it for me?”

“Our first real date,” he suggested and fuck. You were practically melting into a puddle, “and lots of kisses. And cuddles. Andddddd more. Whatever you want, angel. I’m yours - fuck, I’m all yours. Always have been.”

“Alright,” you pretended to contemplate his offer for a moment, “I’ll do it. Your terms are reasonable.”

“Perfect,” he pressed a big, sloppy kiss to your cheek causing you to giggle, “let’s go!”

“Right now?” he nodded fervently, “it’s almost midnight!”

“No time like the present,” oh yeah. You were so in love with this fool, “it’ll be fun!”

“You are a most ridiculous man,” you padded to your closet to grab your own skates, “but you’re my ridiculous man. Let’s go!”

“There’s my girl,” he held out his hand to you, a touch you happily accepted, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you made a small sound as he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, “let’s go, Romeo. You’ve got a lot to learn!”

“Lead the way, Juliet.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #st

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arlana-likes-to-write · 2 years ago

Text

How Do I Say Good-bye by Dean Lewis

Holy cow two posts in two days! I guess that what happens when I get over my writer’s block lol.

The Adventure of Y/n Barton and Yelena Belova - Master post

Summary: After 5 years, the Avengers come together to rewrite the wrong that happened in Wakanda. What happens when your father returns from the time heist without the one person that was your constant for 5 years?

Warnings: major character death (sort of), angst, grief, guilt, mention of death

Word count: 5.6k

“Clint, where’s Nat?” You heard Bruce ask your father. You looked up from the book you were reading to calm your nerves while you waited for everyone to return. The spot next to your father was empty. He was on his knees showing an orange rock in his hands. He looked around the circle and his eyes landed on you. Your heart began to beat, you wondered if they could hear it in the silent room. Thud. Thud. Thud. The organ pounded against your ribcage. You saw mouths moving but their words weren’t registering to you. The room felt incredibly small. You jumped out of your chair, it fell to the ground but you didn’t bother to fix it. You took off running towards the door. By the time the New York Sun hit your face, you shifted to a husky. You felt the grass on your hands and feet as you sprinted to the dock that rested on the pound. Staring into the reflection into the water, you shifted back. Your jaw clenched as you kept the tears that threatened to fall at bay. The calmness and isolation only lasted a moment as you heard footsteps joining you. You knew who it was without looking over your shoulder. Your father knelt down next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. It was supposed to be an act of comfort but you flinched away. You stood up and leaned against a wooden post.

“Yelena was part of the Blip, right?” Tony asked, breaking the heavy silence. Your already broken heart shattered more at the mention of the blonde Black Widow. You felt sick.

“Yeah,” You said, finding your voice. It was shaky. You cleared your throat and hugged yourself. Your father was standing now, looking down at the wooden deck. Bruce was looking out towards the water as Steve and Tony were sitting on the bench. The God of Thunder was the only one not standing still. He was pacing. “Alexei and Melina are in St. Petersburg. We’ll or I’ll tell them.” You spoke with the Black Widow’s adoptive family a handful of times. Natasha tried to call them every once in a while to settle their nerves. But you knew the Russian needed a reminder of family, someone other than you. Thor stopped pacing and looked at you.

“What?” He questioned. You hummed questionably. “What are you doing?” The question directed at you got the attention of your father. The god closed the distance between you. You scrunched your nose as he reeked of alcohol. “You're acting like she’s dead. Why are we acting like she’s dead?” He asked, facing the group. “We have the stones, right? As long as we have the stones we can bring her back.” He faced you again. “Stop this shit. We are the Avengers.” He took another step towards you. If your back wasn’t already against a pole, you would have moved back to create more space between you and the God. “Get it together.”

“Step away from my kid.” Clint said. The God held your gaze. “We can’t bring her back.” Thor finally looked away from you and towards your father. “It can’t be undone.” You looked down at the dock. “It can’t.” Thor laughed.

“No offense but you are all very earthly beings, okay, and we’re talking about space magic and can’t seems very definitive. Don’t you think so?” You closed your eyes as they burned with unshed tears.

“Look I know that I’m way outside my pay grade here but she still isn’t here, is she?” Clint yelled. “It can’t be undone or that’s at least what the red, floating guy had to say. Maybe you wanna go talk to him, okay? Go grab your hammer and you go fly and you go talk to him.” He paused. You glanced up, looking at your family. Steve had a few tears running down his cheeks. Bruce ripped off a bench and threw it across the water. “It was supposed to be me.” Your head snapped to look at your father. He looked at anything and everything besides you. But you could see the tears in his eyes. “It should have been me.” He confessed again, this time looking at you. You were going to be sick. “She sacrificed herself for those goddamn stones. She put her life on it. We have to make it count.”

“We will.” Steve said.

“Wait,” you said, holding your hands up. “Are we going to gloss over the fact that he just said he was going to sacrifice himself for that stupid rock?” No one said anything.

“Y/n.” Clint said, slowly taking a step towards you.

“No,” You said, putting your hand up. “I am this close to losing my mind.” You rubbed your hands against your face. “For 5 years I was with her. I watched her mourn for Wanda, for Vision, for everyone.” You yelled. “I watched as she tried to keep the world together.” You looked at your father. “As she tried to bring you home.” You pointed to him. “And none of you were there.” You closed your eyes as your lips trembled. You knew it was unfair to spill these words at them. They all dealt with the Blip in their own way. But you were hurting and in pain and the one person that you were able to turn to for 5 years wasn’t there. You opened your eyes. “So yeah we’ll bring everyone back. But the one person who wanted it more than anything won’t be here to see it.”

You sat in your room while the others came up with the last touches on the plan to bring everyone back. You were resting your back against the headboard with a few polaroids you had taken over the years. They mostly consisted of you and Natasha making a mess in the kitchen. “Why did you leave us all behind?” You asked the photos. You didn’t know how to say goodbye to someone you’ve known your whole life. There was so much you wanted to say but there was no time.

“Knock, knock,” Your door opened and you watched as Steve came in, closing the door behind him. He sat on the edge of your bed. Steve was the only ‘non-active’ member of the team you saw constantly.

“I didn’t say you could come in.” You deadpanned, not looking away from the photos.

“No, but we both no you can’t say no to this face.” He managed to pull a smile out of you and you rolled your eyes. You bit the inside of your cheek.

“It’s not fair.” You finally whispered. “It’s not fair they both had to go there because no matter what I’d be losing someone I cared about.” You looked up at him. “She was my life line.” You hated the usage of ‘was’.

“And you were her’s.”

“How do I tell Yelena or Wanda?” You asked. “How do I look them in the eye and explain to them it was either her or my father?” Steve sighed.

“I don’t know, kid.” He answered honestly. “But you won’t have to do it alone.” Alone? You had the two things that you and Natasha dreamt about for 5 years, a way to rewrite the loss and the compound full of people. But she wasn’t here to see it. Your door opened and your father stepped in.

“Tony and Bruce finished the gauntlet,” he said. “Just waiting on you Cap.” Steve nodded and stood up. Clint took Captain America’s spot. The air in your room became suffocating. “I’m sorry.” He said. You looked at the man in front of you. He has changed so much since the last time you saw him.

“Sorry about what?” You questioned.

“I’m sorry I’m sitting here and she’s not.” Your jaw clenched as anger swept through you.

“That’s not -” You let out a shaky breath to calm your nerves. “Let’s just bring everyone back.” You stood up from your bed before putting a random photo into your pocket. It was one of Natasha decorating Christmas cookies and she was covered in flour. You left your room not even looking back at your father.

You walked into Tony’s lab while Bruce was walking over to the gauntlet as it rested on the table. “You saw what those stones did to Thanos.” He said, his voice was surprisingly calm. “They almost killed him. None of you could survive that.”

“How do we know you will?” You asked, making your presence known. Bruce picked it up and looked at you.

“We don’t.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. You ignored the look from your father. “But the radiation is mostly gamma.” He continued. “It was like I was made for this.” The Avengers looked around the room at one another as no one said anything to talk Bruce out of it. You bite your lip, keeping the snarky comments at bay. You needed all of them together, not fighting against each other because you were pissed off.

“Alright,” Tony said. “Remember everyone Thanos snapped away five years ago, you're just bringing them back now.” he gestured to the room. “Today. Don’t change anything from the last five years.”

“Got it.” He said, looking at the stones. You didn’t like this. A knot formed in your stomach. Everyone formed a circle around the doctor. Thor pushed Rocket behind him. Rhodey and Scott activated their helmet. Steve motioned for you to join him, the super soldier covered you with his shield. He gave you a reassuring smile but you couldn’t return it, you were too focused on Bruce.

“FRIDAY,” Tony said, activating his own suit and producing a shield to cover him and your father. “Do me a favor and activate the Barn Door Protocol, will you?”

“Yes boss.” The AI answered. You looked around as the glass roof was blocked by an additional metal roof. The same metal material covered the windows of the lab. You gulped and grabbed onto Steve’s arm.

“Everybody comes home.” Bruce said, putting it on. As soon as the gauntlet formed around his hand, the stones powered up. A surge of electricity ran through his arm and he fell to his knees with a pained groan.

“Take it off. Take it off.” Thor pleaded. Steve held up his hand.

“No wait,” he said. “Bruce, are you okay?” He didn’t answer as he was groaning in pain. Your eyes widened.

“Talk to me, Banner.” Tony said. He nodded.

“I’m okay,” he did not look okay. He looked the opposite of okay. “I’m okay.” He said again. You weren’t sure if he was trying to reassure everyone or himself. He yelled as he lifted his hand and snapped his fingers. Bruce fell onto his back as the gauntlet came off. You and your father were the first to move. Clint kicked the stones away from Bruce as you fell to your knees next to him. His arm was badly burned.

“No one move him.” Tony said. He used his suit to spray some sort of cooling spray onto Bruce’s arm. Bruce grabbed your arm with his non-injured hand. At any other time you would be worried if the Hulk grabbed onto you but it was different. You put your hand on his.

“Did it work?” Bruce asked.

“We’re not sure,” Thor said. “It’s okay.” You watched as the windows opened and Scott walked out. Birds chirping filled the quietness. That quietness was broken as you and your father’s phone went off. You stood up, walked away from the group and pulled out your cell phone and gasped. “Lila,” you said, answering the phone. You vaguely heard your father answer his phone with a soft, “Honey.”

“Y/n? Where are you? What is going on? I don’t understand.” She asked.

“Guys,” Scott said. “I think it worked.” You blocked out your sister’s rambling as the sun shining down was blocked. The hairs on your neck stood up.

“Take cover!” You yelled but it was too late. The blast sent you flying and the world went dark.

Your ears were ringing as your exhausted body slumped to the ground. The ruins of the compound were settling. Thanos was gone. Everyone was back and on paper you’ve won. But there was an ache in your chest as you watched Shuri work on Tony, trying to save him. You pulled out the picture from your pocket. The edges were ripped and it was covered in dirt but you didn’t care. You heard your name. It was distant and echoed as if you were sinking underwater. “Y/n!” It was much clever now as you looked up and saw Wanda running over to you. You didn’t have time to process it as she threw herself into your arms. You let out a pained groan. “I’m sorry.” She said, letting you go but she cupped your face in her hands. “Five years.” She said, “Strange said it’s been 5 years.”

“Wanda.” You said slowly.

“I don’t believe it. I don’t understand. We were here on second and it felt like no time passed.” You said your friend’s name again but it didn’t cut through her rambling. “Natasha. I need to find her.” The mention of your godmother’s name almost broke the dam you’ve been trying to keep up.

“Wanda.” You said a little bit louder. The urgency in your voice stopped the rambling. Your voice got the attention of Clint and Steve and they talked over to you.

“Where is Nat?” She asked. You looked down and removed one of her hands from your face to your temple. Her fingers began to glow and you felt her magic but she still waited for your consent. You nodded as her magic entered your memories. You showed her everything. The hundreds of movie marathons you had, late night meetings, and the days you found the Black Widow training to the brink of exhaustion so she couldn’t dream of the Battle of Wakanda. You showed her every laugh and every tear shed. Finally, you showed her when your father returned without her girlfriend by his side. She pulled back her magic and clutched her hand to her chest. Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks. “No,” she whispered. “She can’t be gone.” You pulled her into a tight hug as you felt her tears against your skin and her hands twisted in the fabric of your shirt. You closed your eyes.

I’ll make sure she’s alright, you promised.

A week. That was how long everyone decided to regroup back at Tony’s cabin to have a small service for those lost. It gave everyone enough time to regroup with their loved ones and heal from their wounds, especially Tony who survived because of the Wakandans. So you sat in the back of the car, head resting on the window as Clint drove back to the farm. Wanda was in the front seat. Clint insisted on her staying at the farm, you wondered if his guilt was eating at him. Soon the two story building you haven’t called home began to appear. The sound of the approaching vehicle alerted your mom and siblings as the front door opened and they came running out. Your father parked the car and turned it off. Once again, their voices were distorted. You vaguely heard Wanda say, “I got her.” It was your only warning before she opened your door. Her cheeks were still stained with tears and the smile she was wearing was forced. You wondered why you haven’t cried. You felt the tears but they wouldn’t fall. You felt numb. Crying for her made it real. “Hey,” Wanda said softly. “Your mom really wants to see you.” You looked over her shoulder and saw the tearful reunion between Clint and Laura. Natasha never told you in detail the crimes he committed as the Ronin. But you knew the blood shed had to be intense. You remembered one night sneaking out of your room to find Natasha at her desk trying to pinpoint a lead on where your father was. She had photos of bodies left behind. “Malen’kiy yastreb (little hawk).” Natasha’s nickname for you snapped you out of your thoughts. You looked at the Solovkian. Her faced showed the pained expression as she ventured into your mind. “Do you want to talk about it?” You shook your head, closing your mind to her.

“No.” You said. There was too much going on for you to unload something else onto her. You got out of the car and mindlessly walked over to your family with Wanda close behind. Lila was the first to see you coming and broke away from everyone into a sprint. You caught her in your arms and fell to the ground. “I’ve missed you so much.” You whispered.

“I thought you were dead,” she said. “When I heard that explosion on the phone, I thought the worst.” You squeezed her tighter. You could feel her heartbeat against yours, it was erratic. You slowed down your own breathing so she could match yours. Her heart calmed down.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” You promised. You watched as your mom walked over to you, silent tears on her face. You let go of your sister, who went to hug Wanda.

“My baby girl,” She said. “You’ve grown up.” You stood up, folding your hands in front of you.

“5 years.” You said. “A lot happens in that time.” Laura let out a small sop and brought you into a hug.

“I’m so sorry.” You tensed up in her arms. She wasn’t the one you wanted an apology from. Once she let go of you, you gave a big hug to Cooper.

“Where is Aunty Nat?” Nathaniel asked, as you knelt down to his level to give him a hug. Your stomach dropped.

“Let’s go inside.” Clint said. You stood up as everyone headed inside. Your father had his arms around your siblings and Wanda was holding onto your mom like a lifeline. You looked up at the blue sky.

“How do I say goodbye?” You asked. “You gave Natheniel his name and you always saw what’s best in me.” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I don’t want to say goodbye.”

You stepped into your room, drying your hair with a towel. A shower was desperately needed after you caught up the rest of your family on what happened in the years they missed. You kept it PG, not wanting you siblings to learn who their father became. You were going to leave it to him to tell his wife. To your surprise Wanda fell asleep on the couch. You wrapped a blanket around her. Clint wanted to spend time together as a family but you wanted to be alone. You laid down on your bed, hair still wet but you didn’t care. It was weird. For 5 years, all you wanted was for people to be around but now that they were back you wanted to retreat. You wanted to crawl back into the bubble you created. You closed your eyes, hoping that you could dream away the past 10 hours. But the shrill sound of your phone ringing caused you to open your eyes. You were surprised it survived the fight but STARK INDUSTRIES made the best for a reason. You let it go to voicemail, it was probably an old school friend from school but you didn’t have the energy to deal with them. But your phone rang again. With a sigh, you stood up and grabbed your phone.

“Fuck,” You mumbled falling back onto your bed as you read Yelena’s name on the caller ID. Clearing your dry throat, you answered the call. “Yelena, hi.” Your voice was surprisingly steady.

“Where is she?” She asked. She sounded on the verge of tears. “Where is Natalia?”

“Why don’t you come to Iowa?” You countered. You knew it was best for this conversation to happen in person. It also allowed Yelena to not be alone.

“Iowa.” She said, slowly. “Is my sister in Iowa?”

“Well no but -”

“Then I won’t be going to Iowa.” She cut you off. The anger was replacing the tears. “So, where is she?” You took a steady breath. Your heart was beating in your chest again. Thud. Thud. Thud.

“She’s gone.” You said. “She’s dead. Natasha sacrificed herself to bring everyone back.” You explained everything to her. Staring with Thanos and his radical idea and how he planned to accomplish it. The battle at Wakanda and how the Avengers lost, resulting in half of the population losing 5 years. She didn’t say anything and half the time you thought she hung up but you heard her breathing. “We are having a service for her and a few others in a week. I can send you the address.” She still remained silent. “Yelena, please say something.”

“You got so much time with her.” You nodded even though she couldn’t see it.

“I know and I’m so sorry. I’m here for you.” She laughed bitterly.

“That’s not going to bring her back.”

“Yelena -” The line went dead. You redialed her number but the call went straight to voicemail. “Dammit.” You slammed your hand against your bed. Your room became suffocating, claustrophobic. Your lungs didn’t want to take in oxygen. You jumped off your bed and ran out of your room.

“Y/n.” Clint said as you ran past him. The commotion woke up Wanda but you didn’t care. You kept running until you reached the barn and fell to your knees. The dam was breaking. You could see the cracks forming and your breathing was erratic. Bile was moving up your throat. You were going to be sick.

“Sweetheart,” Your mom’s voice was breaking through the fog. You felt her hand on your back slowly drawing circles. “Breathe for me. In and out. In and out.” You copied her and soon your breathing evened out. You sat back, pulling your knees to your chest.

“Yelena called me.” You said. “I had to tell her that the sister she just got back is gone.” You shook your head. “It’s not fair. It’s-” You stopped yourself.

“You have to let it out.” She said, “Holding it in is going to make it worse.” You couldn’t. You couldn’t tell her what you were feeling because you didn’t know. Everything was all mixed up. “He told me.” You looked up into your mother’s eyes. “Your father. He told me what happened, all those years we were gone.” Ronin. It was the name given to him as he took justice in his own hands. Ronin. Ronin. Ronin. “Say what you need to say.”

“I want her back. But if I say that does that mean I wish my dad was the one to go?” You cleared your throat. “I don’t know how to say goodbye to her and I’m scared of what life is going to be like without her. She was all I had for 5 years and now.” You looked down. “And now she’s gone. She’s gone, mom. Why does she have to be gone?” Something inside you snapped. The dam broke and you cried. Laura caught you in her arms and held you tight as you sobbed. “How could she leave us all behind?”

The week leading up to the service flew by. You lived in a blur, things were just happening around you as you cared for those around you. You were a shoulder to cry on for Wanda and read stories to Nathaniel when his dreams haunted him. When sleep evaded you, you found Clint nursing some bourbon in the kitchen. You joined him, not speaking to one another. It was exhausting, this weird dance you were playing with him.

You were sitting on the porch, looking up at the night stairs. You were leaving for New York in the morning and you needed sleep but it was evading you. You wrapped the blanket tighter around you. Late night talks under the night stars were some of your favorite memories with Natasha. You learned quickly that the Black Widow didn’t know where the constellations were and the stories behind them. It made you feel special that you knew something that your godmother didn’t. So you began to show them to her and tell their stories. “Mind if I join you?” You yelped at the sudden voice and stared at the blonde Russian standing in front of you.

“Yelena,” You knew she asked you a question. She was waiting for your permission but your brain was trying to register her sudden appearance. “Yeah, of course.” She sat down next to you, rubbing her hands together. You gave her some of the blanket. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you know where I live.” She gave you a sad smile.

“Natasha gave me the address before I left the compound. She said,” her voice cracked. “She said I’d always be welcomed here, that I’d be safe.”

“She was right.” You sat in silence, allowing the gentle breeze and the crickets to tell their story. Yelena was looking up at the stars, dark circles under her eyes. “I was worried about you.” You finally said. “I tried calling you but the call went straight to voicemail.” She nodded.

“I broke my phone. I got a new one with a new number.” You laughed.

“That would make sense.” You watched as the Russian smile. “She talked about you all the time.” You watched as her shoulders tense up. “She was so proud of you. She loved you so much and just wanted you to be safe.” In the moonlight you saw tears leaving her eyes and running down her cheeks.

“It shouldn’t have gone this way. If I was there, I could have stopped it. I could have..I could have changed it.”

“Nothing was going to stop her, Yelena. You know Natasha.” She let out a soft sob, bringing her closed fist to her mouth. You’ve had the same thoughts. What if you conceived the team to be a part of the time heist? Could you have stopped her? “She made her choice.” You said to her echoing the same words your mom and father said to you. “We’re gonna have to find a way to live with it.”

“I loved her so much.” She confessed, looking at you. You nodded.

“Me too.” You whispered, smiling at her. “Me too.” Yelena shivered as a gust of wind blew through. “Come on.” You said, standing up and holding out her hand. “Stay the night. Please.” She hesitated but took your hand and got to her feet. You brought her inside. “We have a full house but uh you can bunk with me or you can have my room and I can sleep on the couch or..”

“The couch is fine.” She said, cutting you off with a smile.

“Right.” You blushed. “I’m upstairs, first door on your left. Come get me if you need anything.” She nodded. Without thinking, you grabbed her hand again. She looked down at your connected hands. “Anything, I mean it.” You squeezed her hand. “Good night Yelena.”

“Goodnight Y/n.” You let go of her hand and walked upstairs to your room. You were surprised to feel a weight lifted off your chest as you climbed into bed. Finally sleep came easy for you.

A gently knock woke you up. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and walked over to your door. Once again you were surprised to see Yelena standing there. Her cheeks were stained with fresh tears. You pulled the emotional Black Widow into your room and down onto your bed. “Nightmare?” She didn’t have to answer for you to know. “I’m pretty cold.” You said. “I can’t really sleep when I’m cold. Can you sleep in here tonight?” You pulled your sheets back. You had a queen size bed so you had the space. The entire time Yelena was watching you carefully. You sighed. “When was the last time you slept?”

“I don’t know.” She whispered. You nodded.

“We both need sleep.” You said, climbing under the covers. “The choice is yours obviously but here you're safe.” You laid down and closed your eyes.

Yelena stared at your sleeping form, extremely conflicted on the emotions running through her. She woke up from a nightmare she’s had before but when she woke up, a scream almost left her lips, you were her first thought. A stranger. Someone she barely knew. But she felt safe and at a sense of peace. Natasha was right, Bartons were a unique group of people. Natalie. Yelena bit her lip and rubbed the tears out of her eyes. She missed her sister so much. The Russian crawled underneath your blanket. She was surprised how warm you were, it lured her into a dreamless sleep.

The service was exhausting. Everyone said kind words about Natasha, Vision, and everyone that gave their lives to protect the world. You were more focused on Yelena during the entire service, who barely said a word. As it came to a close, you were standing with Bruce at the time machine. He was getting it ready to send someone to bring the stones back. “Let me be the one to put the stones back.” His head snapped to look at you, you were surprised it didn’t give him whiplash.

“Are you insane?” He asked. “Your father would kill me if we sent you back.” You rolled your eyes at the doctor. Your father was a lot of things but there was no way he’d be able to take on the Hulk.

“Bruce, please, I want to help. I didn’t do anything last time and -” Your voice trailed off. Bruce gently placed his hand on your shoulder.

“I get it kid. But it’s far too dangerous.” You sighed, knowing he was right.

“Who's going then?” He gestured over your shoulder and you turned around. Steve changed out of his suit and into his Captain America uniform. He had a small briefcase in one hand and his shield in the other. He was talking with Wanda and Yelena. You were too far to hear what they were saying but whatever Steve said made them smile. It was nice to see. After the service, you watched as your father, Yelena, and Wanda walked by the water’s edge. You wanted to give them some space so that’s how you ended up with Bruce.

“I tried to bring her back.” He said. You looked back at him, he was tinkering with the machine. He could only use one arm as the arm he used to snap was in a sling. “When I had the gauntlet and the stones I thought I could bring her back.” He shrugged. You weren’t sure how to respond as you knew the relationship between the doctor and Black Widow was complicated. “I miss her.” You could relate to that.

“Yeah, I miss her too.”

“Everything all set?” Steve asked, walking up next to you. In place of his shield, he was holding Mjolnir. The sound of leaves crunching behind you was the indication that people were walking behind you, a quick glance and you saw Bucky and Sam. Sam was holding onto Steve’s shield.

“All set Cap.” Before he moved onto the platform, you grabbed onto his arm.

“What are you doing?” You asked. He gave you a confused look.

“Bring the stones back.” He said simply. You let go of his arms. You didn’t believe him. Something didn’t feel right. He stepped onto the platform. You couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong, it was a feeling deep in your stomach.

“Remember,” Bruce said. “You have to return the stones to the exact moment you got’em or you’re gonna open up a bunch of nasty alternative realities.”

“Don’t worry Bruce.” He hit his sleeve and his Captain America suit changed into the white tech suit.

“How long is this going to take? “ Sam asked. You bit your cheek. You were experiencing major deja vu and it was not a good one.

“For him, as long as he needs. For us, five seconds.” Bruce answered. “All right, we’ll meet you back here, okay?” He looked directly at you. His blue eyes looking onto yours. With a smile, he nodded his head.

“You bet.” His helmet went on.

“Going quantum in three…” Your heart started to beat. “Two.” You couldn’t lose anyone else. “One.” Steve disappeared. You held your breath. “And returning in five, four, three, two, one.” Bruce turned a switch. You heard it click but the platform was empty. You looked at Bruce who was looking at a small screen. Where is he? Panic started to spread through you.

“Where is he?” Sam asked. “I’m not sure.” You couldn’t do this again. Natasha. Vision. Hell you almost lost Tony.

“Well bring him the hell back.” Bruce pressed a few buttons and the machine came back to life. It was as if you blinked because the empty platform had two figures on it both wearing the white tech suits. You knew one was Steve as his helmet disappeared and you heard Sam and Bucky yelling at him for making them worry. But your attention was on whoever Steve brought back. Their helmet disappeared and you gasped.

“Natasha.”

________

Did we notice some moments from Hawkeye? So you may be asking yourself, Arlana does the TV series Hawkeye happen in this AU? The answer is yes and I will be writing it for one of my Christmas one shots!

Hope you enjoyed this. If you like my writing and want to support me buy me a coffee.

#The Adventure of Y/N Barton and Yelena Belova #yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x y/n #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #black widow fanfiction #black widow one shot #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #wanda maximoff #wandanat #Marvel AU #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot #marvel fix it

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dadsbongos · 4 years ago

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shallow

Insert Coin - Chapter 2.b / Series Masterlist

His hair is sprawled out below him and his lips are pulled into a fragile smile when she enters, the smile only widens once he notices her, “(Y/n), what a pleasant surprise!”

Taking in the boy’s predicament, she fully studied how Nagito was tied up - chains tightly binding his arms and legs and attaching him to a heating pole in the back of the room.

“And you’ve brought food - you really are the best, just as expected from an Ultimate,” he noted as (Y/n) sat beside him, “My sincerest apologies for burdening you with this task, if you wish, you could let me starve.”

“No, you need food, Nagito,” the peacekeeper refuted, setting down the plate and bringing a hand to the boy’s face, lifting his head and resting it upon her lap so he wouldn’t choke when he tried to swallow, “Besides, I volunteered to be here.”

“How lucky for me,” Nagito grinned, eyes closed and tone light, as if he didn’t know why he was tied up in the first place, “I get to be with the Ultimate Peacekeeper. I’m not sure how trash like me could ever be of assistance in that, but I’ll do anything I can.”

“Just eat, for now,” she mumbled, gathering some eggs on toast and folding it in half before holding the bread to Nagito’s lips, “I’m sorry for how awkward this is, but please bear with me. You get that I can’t undo your restraints at the moment, right?”

“Of course, anything you Ultimates need, I’m of service,” he didn’t resist any bites and was oddly cooperative for a man held down against his will. Even doing his best to keep his lips from accidentally brushing (Y/n)’s hand as they reached their final bits of food.

It was once they were down to his bottle of milk that Nagito spoke up again,

“I just hope you don’t catch anything from having to feed me.”

(Y/n)’s brows shot up as she opened the bottle, “Do you have any bugs or diseases?”

Suddenly, the expression on Nagito’s face soured, brows furrowing and lips tugging down into a soft frown before he shook it off, “Nothing contagious.”

“Then we’re good, yeah?” she waited for his nod of agreement before carefully, carefully, carefully lifting the lip of the bottle to his mouth, “Keep your head still, okay? I’ll go slowly.”

He nodded, but the easy-going, calmed look was gone once again. Instead, he seemed as though he were a caged animal. A kenneled dog, sad eyes and pouting lips. Even as he drank, he looked so dismal. And after he was done, the look didn’t wash away.

“I’m sorry we acted so quickly, really I am, but in the panic there must’ve been the feeling this is all that could be done,” (Y/n) ran her fingers through Nagito’s hair, hoping to relax the poor boy, “Do you want to move?”

“No,” he sighed, “besides, I understand. If everyone desires to feel safe, who am I to get in their way? I’m barely even worthy of being their stepping stone let alone part of their discussions.”

“Of course, you’re worthy, you’re a breathing, thinking, living human being - you always have a say in what happens to you.”

Despite her words, she still couldn't forget. He was the reason Byakuya was dead. He was the reason Teruteru would never escape.

(Y/n) looked down at the boy, who’d shifted to lay on his side with his head still in her lap, “I’ll be around a lot, so I hope you don’t mind my presence.”

“I never could,” Nagito weakly responded, eyes locked on the wall across from them, “You shouldn’t have to stay with me. You can leave now and I’ll tell the others you were here.”

“No,” she wanted him to know how badly what he’d done hurt her - hurt all of them, but she was sure there was something behind it. Nagito didn’t wake up that day and decide he’d be the reason two people died, there has to be something else, “I want to stay here. With you.”

“You’re too sweet, much too sweet. I don’t deserve this.”

“You deserve at least the minimum, and I’m sorry that’s all I can provide right now.”

There was a knock at the door, Hajime peeking in a few seconds later, his eyes immediately landed on the position between Nagito and (Y/n). He rose a brow in question but didn’t bother vocalizing it, instead, he entered further, “Can I speak with you,” other than a fleeting glance, he didn’t bother acknowledging Nagito, “alone?”

(Y/n) nodded, gently maneuvering Nagito off her thighs and back onto the ground, she gave the boy a smile, “I’ll be back, okay?” at his nod, she left to the hall with Hajime.

“You okay? He hasn’t… tried anything, has he?” Hajime whispered the last part. Worry etched into each of the lines drawn within his face.

(Y/n) shook her head, placing her hands on each of the boy’s shoulders and enforcing eye contact between them, “I’m fine, Hajime, I can handle things.”

“If you’re sure,” he relented before going back to his original thought - the reason he was there, “Anyway, a new island opened up,” leaning in, he murmured, presumably so Monokuma didn’t hear, “Monomi destroyed the Monobeast blocking one off - apparently. I investigated it a bit already, it doesn’t appear particularly dangerous but I’m still wary. You should check it out too, maybe take a break from… him.”

“No, I’ll stay here,” (Y/n) denied, feeling her heart drag despair against her ribcage with every new pump, “I have to watch Nagito.”

Nobody else would.

Nobody else wanted to.

“It’s sort of my responsibility anyway, you know?” it’s her fault she couldn’t keep the peace, her one talent. The one thing she’s good at, “I need to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone. And that nobody tries anything with him. Besides, you’re all doing fine now, right? You don’t need me.”

Who needed a worm who couldn’t perform in their own niche properly?

“It’d be nice to have you, to know you’re safe,” Hajime looked down at his shoes, pursing his lips, “If you really want to stay, I won’t stop you. But if anything, anything at all, happens, I’m here.”

It’s what she’d said to him that fateful day.

She smiled and nodded - empty and hollow - before reaching for the door handle to the room, “I will, Hajime. Don’t worry about me.”

As the boy turned to leave, (Y/n) watched his figure grow smaller against the walls before calling out once again,

“Keep them safe, please?”

He paused mid-stride, turning to the Ultimate Peacekeeper. His heart tore at her expression. Deep sorrow. Deep pain. Deep despair. He wasn’t stupid - she must’ve been blaming herself at least somewhat. All Hajime could do was nod and smile - empty and hollow - before continuing down the hall and out of the old building.

Returning to the room, (Y/n) was quiet, watching as Nagito hummed to himself, facing away from the door.

A particularly off-key hum brought her from her trance, the boy sighing to himself and shaking his head, “Of course…” before starting again.

(Y/n) swallowed down the lump in her throat before walking over to Nagito, gently settling him over her lap once again. It brought him minor comfort to know someone cared - even if he was unworthy.

“How do you feel about exploring the island tonight?”

“Hm? I thought you couldn’t untie me.”

“I can’t, not now, but at night - everyone’ll be asleep anyway, they won’t even know... but I’ll have to tie you back up.”

“Okay,” Nagito smiled slightly at the woman as she brushed hair out of his face, “I’ll be quiet.”

“Good,” she returned the gesture, “Then once we’re sure they’re all asleep, we’ll go.”

#insert coin #nagito komeada x reader #komaeda x reader #sdr2 x reader #sdr2 reader insert

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niksixx · 5 years ago

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America’s Most Wanted

Requested: Kind of :D

Pairing: Duff McKagan x Fem!Reader

Description: While you and Duff are lovers, you’re also killers. A modern day Bonnie and Clyde love story.

Warning: Mentions of murder, blood, stabbing, guns, etc. I tried not to make this fic graphic, but please read at your own risk if you believe this piece will trigger you.

A/N: I am blessing you all with a Duff fic because I know how much you lovely humans wanted me to write something for him!! It’s a different type of fic, I consider this ‘horror’ but again, I tried not to make it super graphic that way you can still enjoy it!

*Picture is NOT mine. Found on Google. Credit to the owner.*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The streets of Los Angeles are uncharacteristically quiet at four thirty in the morning. Normally buzzing with crowds of inebriated young adults who spill out to the sidewalk after a night at the Roxy, they have become calm and eerily so. Illumination from the lamp posts provides the only source of light throughout the city in the late hours of the night. Stores and clubs remain closed for the second week in a row. Workers and customers alike are suffering, but the safety of the LA citizens is at stake.

The police and the FBI are frazzled. Patrolling the streets is too dangerous. One by one the death toll increases, with each murder more gruesome than the next, always unprovoked. Media outlets across the country keep the American citizens informed. The mugshots of the murderers are on every news channel, and posters are hung on every telephone pole. The two killers are wanted dead or alive, and they are Bonnie and Clyde resurrected.

Sitting at the base of a tree is one of the killers, the more experienced of the two. He goes by Duff. Long leather clad legs are splayed out in front of him as he cleans the fresh blood from his knife with a towel that has seen better days. Beside him hidden in the grass is the lifeless body of a twenty-nine year old man who had made the mistake of stepping outside his home. The scent of blood is strong, but Duff’s used to it. After brutally ending the lives of thirty innocent civilians up and down the west coast, the pungent odor is rarely a bother. In fact, Duff finds it comforting.

At first glance, Duff appears just like any other man in Los Angeles. That alone makes him deadly. Tall, blonde, and adorned in leather assets from head to toe, he’s intimidating. But it’s not the kind of intimidating that urges people away. He possesses an allure that pulls them toward him, draws them in. And then, when they least expect it, he strikes. One and done. Swift and clean. No remorse.

With his back against the base of the tree, Duff scans the empty streets, looking for any sign of life that is foolish enough to leave the safety of the indoors. He knows the police are doing everything they can to locate him without putting themselves at risk. He is aware that cities all across the country are terrified that they’ll fall victim to his murder spree. And yet there are still people who choose to enter the outdoor world, exposing themselves to potential harm. There is always the option of breaking the glass windows and terrorizing the people who choose to stay inside, but that isn’t the name of the game. Duff waits for his victims. He never goes looking for them.

Heels clicking against the cement pavement grabs his attention. Turning his head toward the sound, a petite woman in a red peacoat has a bit of hustle in her step as she pulls the jacket tighter to her body. The naive little thing is alone, checking over her shoulder once, twice, before exhaling a breath into the air.

From his pocket, Duff digs out a cigarette. Holding it between two gloved fingers, he lights it and casually blows a ring of smoke into the night. “You know darling, you shouldn’t be out here all by yourself.”

The clicking comes to a halt. Caught in the midst of her venture home, the lady stops and turns, worry lines etched in her forehead. Duff sighs. Poor thing doesn’t know what’s coming for her. “I know. I’m coming from a friend’s house. My apartment is just down the street.”

Duff heaves himself to his feet, brushing off the dirt and grass from his body. Shockingly, the lady doesn’t budge, but her eyes watch his every move. Stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jacket, he lets the cigarette dangle from his lips. A few steps forward and he’s standing in front of the young woman who squares her body defensively. She doesn’t recognize him, another shock, as his face has been plastered all over the 11 o’clock news, but her guard is high.

“At four in the morning?” Duff asks incredulously, playing the part of an intrigued stranger. He uses his charm for an advantage. The woman smiles a little, relaxing her shoulders. Duff notices. “What were you doing?”

He doesn’t have to do this. He doesn’t have to pretend to care, to warm up his victims before the hunt. But killing is a game, and games are meant to be fun. “I was planning on staying over, but I have trouble falling asleep in homes that aren’t my own,” Her eyes travel the length of Duff’s body before settling back on his face. She has trouble reading him. “What’s your excuse for being out so late?”

A few feet away, a shadow emerges from behind the cars parked along the street. Straining his neck to get a closer look, Duff recognizes the shadow and snickers to himself. Curiously, the lady turns her gaze just as the shadow disappears behind a different car. “I have trouble sleeping. Past trauma,” Duff lies casually, eyes downcast at the cigarette in his mouth. “Fresh air and a smoke usually calms me down.”

“I’m sorry to hear that…”

“Duff,” He answers back with a slow smile. “And you are?”

“Linda.” A wary smile surfaces on her lips. The rise and fall of her chest is normal, not as panicked as it was before.

The shadow in the background slithers around the cars, inching its way closer. It’s on the hunt for its next prey, but Duff shakes his head, chuckling under his breath. He looks to Linda again, who stares back quizzically. “Well, Linda, it was very nice to meet you. It’s late, though, and you should head on home.”

With a curt nod, Linda tugs her purse higher onto her shoulder. “It was nice to meet you too, Duff.” Linda attempts to step around him, but Duff sidesteps and blocks her path. Linda straightens, the muscles in her face tightening.

“One more thing,” In the shallow pocket of his leather jacket, Duff runs a thumb over the tip of his blade, leaning toward her with a smirk. Linda recoils, and he deadpans. “Don’t scream.”

For a split second, Linda’s fight or flight response is activated, only to be cut off by the sharp pain of a blade wedged in the side of her ribcage. A gloved hand covers her mouth, suppressing the soft whimpers of agony. Cocking his head, Duff stares into her eyes as tears spill over the apples of her cheeks. With a quick, slick motion, Duff pulls the knife from her side before penetrating the skin just above her collarbone. Lightning quick, the shadow emerges from the darkness and hurls itself at Duff, knocking him against the brick wall of a building just a foot behind him. If only the shadow had been quicker, not as hesitant, then it may have claimed Linda as its victim.

Now under the light of a lamppost, the shadow appears in its true form. The second killer. Dressed head to toe in black garments, the boxcutter held tight in its grasp, it takes one step forward, lips curled back in contempt.

“Fuck you, Duff. I had that.”

The anger in your voice turns him on, the opposite effect that it should have on his body. You were right. Linda was your kill, but she’d been alive for far too long. Things didn’t always have to be planned. Excessive planning, while it worked in most cases, could end up being a weakness. Sometimes, you just needed to go for the quick kill.

“I am so sorry, sweetheart,” Feigning innocence, Duff gestures to Linda’s lifeless body as he blows a cloud of smoke into the air. While he’s positive Linda is as good as gone, there was always the chance she was grasping at life by the skin of her teeth. And if she was indeed just another lifeless body bleeding out on the concrete, Duff would enjoy the sight of you exploding in anger right in front of him. You were always more beautiful that way. “But her apartment was down the street. You were just a bit too slow, darling. She would have made it home alive.” Your eyes fall downcast. Duff sighs. “Tell you what. Check her pulse. If she’s still breathing, I’ll let you finish her off.”

Crouching down to the pavement, you slip your hand into the collar of Linda’s peacoat, two fingers positioned on the side of her neck. Blood trickles onto your hand, the pungent liquid dripping down the side of her neck to her ear. Closing your eyes, you concentrate on finding a slow beating, but the only pulse you feel is the one flowing through your fingertips.

Eyes narrowed to slits, you watch as Duff chuckles from his place at the wall, taking drag after drag of the cigarette. He knew she was dead. He was toying with you. Teeth clenched together, you find yourself pressing his back further into the bricks, snatching the white cancer stick from his lips, and crushing it under the heel of your boot. You hold the blade against his neck, applying just a bit of pressure to make him slightly squirm under your touch. Neither you nor Duff are strangers to rough play.

He blinks in pure astonishment before curling his lips into a sly grin. Your fingers twitch, itching to wipe the smile off his face, but he’s caught your wrist far too many times in the past when you’ve tried. “Someone’s a little angry, aren’t we?”

Linda’s blood smears over Duff’s lips as your fingers graze over his face. With your lips by his ear, you reply breathily, “Don’t ask questions you know the answer to.”

Pulling away, you let your hands drop by your side, curling and uncurling your fists as a way to release the tension in your body. It was your kill. How were you supposed to get better if Duff claimed the victims for himself?

“Maybe you need more training.”

Your blood boils, eyes shifting back to Duff’s smug face. If you needed more training, it was his fault. “Maybe I need a better teacher.” It was easy to get under each other’s skin, although most of the time it was playful banter that morphed into sexual tension. From the bulge in his jeans and the hazy look in his eyes, you knew Duff was dangerously close to claiming you on the sidewalk.

“Temper, temper,” Duff taunts, pushing off the wall with the sole of his boot. The way he eyes you is how he gazes at his victims, like prey, but there’s a side of Duff only you’ve seen. Despite his primal instincts and the nagging urge to have his way with you whenever and wherever, you meant more to him than that. “You have a sharp tongue, sweetheart,” You tilt your head confidently upward, not breaking eye contact as he towers over you. Trailing a gloved hand over your exposed collarbone and up the side of your throat, his fingers slide around to grip the nape of your neck. With untamed hair, crazed eyes, and lips smeared with the blood of the fallen, he’s a madman, a killer. And while the feelings between you aren’t rational, you can’t deny your love for the wild criminal. “Show me what else it can do.”

His lips draw you in like a magnet. Many kisses have been shared between you and Duff, but your heart still beats wildly like it did the very first time. With his hands on either side of your face he keeps you still against him, lips moving in a frenzy before biting down on your lip. He’s rarely gentle, and it drives you mad.

The taste of blood floods your tongue as his tangles with yours, hot, heavy breaths fanning over your face. Your body tingles with fervent need, stomach twisting in passionate knots. As much as you want to enjoy the kiss, the taste of him, you pull back reluctantly, the thoughts in your head overwhelming the rest of your senses.

Duff’s hands cradle your face with a gentle touch. He eyes you with a hard look, a look that warns not to lie. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

The words spin around in your brain. Did you really need more training? In only six short months, Duff taught you everything he knew. You followed his lessons, mimicked his every movement, practiced until your muscles ached from the pain. “Am I disappointing you?”

Duff’s eyebrows furrow. His hands fall to your waist, tugging your hips firmly against him. “Disappointing me? Hardly. Sweetheart, you amaze me.”

“But you said I need more training.”

He chuckles softly. “And you do. That’s not a bad thing. But you’ve already come so far. Just a few months ago you were a dainty little thing who loved watching romance movies and baking cookies on Friday nights. Now you can shoot a gun with your eyes closed.”

“And you were just getting out of prison,” Snaking your arms around the back of Duff’s neck, you pull him closer to you, noses brushing tenderly. If it weren’t for Duff’s inmate taking the blame for the murder, he still would have been staring at the prison walls. How they were able to fool the system into letting Duff go was unfathomable, but he was here with you now. They had let a man guilty of first degree murder walk free, and that man turned into one obsessed with death. Along the way he found you, recruited you as his companion, and now couldn’t picture a world where you weren’t by his side. “I was smitten with you from the moment we met. And I knew you were trouble. I just didn’t care.”

“And look at us now,” Duff grins, stealing a quick kiss. Tendrils of wavy blond hair tickle your cheeks when he dips down to your lips. You never understood why he felt the need to steal them. Anything he wanted, you gave willingly. The rest of the world saw his demented and damned soul. You were fortunate to know every complex piece of him, but not all of them were rooted in evil. His love for you was genuine, unwavering, quite possibly his only redeeming quality. “America’s Most Wanted.”

Your head snaps over to the sound of an apartment door closing. Jogging down the steps and onto the pavement, a man untangles a green leash before hooking it onto his dog. The word screams in your head. Target.

Duff is already smirking when you look back at him. He gives you an encouraging nod; You dig into the back pocket of your jeans, pulling out the boxcutter with a sly smile. “Go get ‘em, sweetheart.”

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ghostesez · 4 years ago

Text

I’ve been seeing that post going around claiming that FFN is dying. So, I’ve decided to slowly bring my fanfics from FFN/AO3 here to Tumblr as well just so they’re archived in more than one place. They’re all kind of old, but I still want to save them.

This one is probably my best, Atramentous Inferno. Warnings for vivisection/dissection, blood, gore, and implied character death. Word count: 1480

Finally! Finally we caught that damnable specter. Now, we can get to work…

Nice to know that the new guns are calibrated correctly.

—

Danny’s eyes flickered open, struggling to take in even the small amount of light in the darkened room. Around him, familiar sounds and smells filled his head, cutting through his mind like daggers of onyx. Even before his vision fully adjusted, he was well aware that he was in a laboratory. The smell was of latex and bleach, the sounds of clicks a rough dragging of a pen over a roll of paper, no doubt monitoring him. Next to his head, a few feet above, an IV dripped a bright, green liquid through a small tube. The tube wrapped around the pole of the IV machine like a venomous viper before burrowing into his bare arm, the needle taped down snuggly against his skin. The sleeve of his right arm had been cut up to make access to the needle easier, his glove sat on the table next to him.

As Danny’s eyes began to adjust, he took in even more of his surroundings. It soon became obvious that he was not in FentonWorks. This lab was strange, alien and foreign. Danny lifted his head, only vaguely aware of the IV in his arm. He glanced around, observing the computer to his left, automatically logging his breathing and heartrate. Spread out on the desk across the lab was a mountain of paperwork. Scrawled across the papers in hastily, but well thought-out handwriting was a vast array of mathematical calculations and words that Danny could not quite make out. The clock on the wall read a bit past four. Danny was unsure which four it meant to convey.

Danny peered down his body, ready to take in what exactly was happening.

He screamed.

—

Stand back! Something’s happening.

What in the world? Rings? He’s… he’s changing? Oh my God. It can’t be…

It’s a trick. Don’t be fooled by the face. This is some defense mechanism.

It’s… it’s…

—

His suit was shredded, having been cut unceremoniously with dull scissors. The few scraps which remained hung limply upon what remained of his torso. Pins were stuck into flaps of skin, piercing through the flesh below. Grayish bones and greened organs were visible in a hole the size of a basketball. Danny could see the bones of his ribcage move with his expanding and contracting lungs. His intestines twitched as he moved, like a swarm of snakes in his gut. An organ he didn’t recognize was nearly sawn in half, a clean cut, as though the experimenter has taken great care in the slice. Danny felt his heartrate escalate, as the computer next to him confirmed. Danny beat his head back against the stainless steel table which held him, clenching his restrained hands as hard as he could.

What had happened? There was a fight… Skulker? Danny had defeated Skulker, sucking him into the thermos as a white van of the Guys in White screeched onto the scene. It all went fuzzy after that. Danny felt that he could vaguely remember other non-Guys in White ghost hunters being there. A scream in the distance was audible. He recognized that scream… Was it Jazz? No. It was Sam. It was definitely Sam. She had been there. Of course she had been there. It was a routine fight… It was only Skulker. He’d fought Skulker an uncountable number of times before.

Now, everything was silent, save for the whirls and clicks of machines. Danny couldn’t even hear the ticks of the clock on the wall. The clicks in between the silence became deafening. As he twitched, more of his ectoplasm tricked out the gaping maw in his abdomen. His chest rose and fell as he breathed. Everything went dark again and Danny slipped from consciousness into blissful blackness. He was only slightly aware of light pouring in as a door was opened.

—

I don’t care, I really don’t. I just don’t care who this is… or was. He’s a ghost. He’s a monster. We have to do this.

We can’t possibly vivisect him. I don’t understand why you think that we can. It doesn’t feel right… he’s… he’s…

No. He isn’t. This is what ghosts do. They trick you. Demean you. Manipulate you. Don’t give in. This must be done for the advancement of science. For the good of the human race.

How could you possibly…?

—

Danny awoke to a torrential flood of light. A lamp had been placed above his head, searing a brightness into his eyes. He shut his eyes, tightening his eyelids as much as possible in an effort to drown out the blinding incandescence. A squeak was heard and the lamp was pushed away. Danny slowly opened his eyes as a scientist came into view. Even under the complete, white hazmat suit and helmet, he could make out that this scientist was female. She leaned over him, hands gripped the examination table tightly. She made eye contact with him, or at least Danny thought she did. Her goggles were as black as midnight, shadowy abysses in their own right.

The scientist began to move around the room, gathering papers and tapping her pen on various machines. She ignored the ghost boy’s pleas for mercy and questions as to who she was and why she was doing this. In fact, she seemed completely indifferent to the struggling and pained child in the room with her. The blackness of her goggles made even worse to Danny. Not being able to see her eyes made its seem as though she had no soul at all- a monstrous being of pure hate and loathing.

After what seemed like days to the subject, the scientist wheeled over a small table used to hold scalpels. Stopping it a foot from the examination table. Danny began to hyperventilate in fear of what was happening. The scientist said nothing as she picked a blade and cut into his cheek, just below the eye. Red and green liquids alike flowed from the slice, staining his face and shoulder with blood and ectoplasm. The overwhelming scents of iron and chemicals filled the air. The scientist scoffed and leaned over a table behind her, jotting down a few sentences on the papers which were strewn there. After a moment, she chose another scalpel from the tray beside her. She carefully lifted a flap of skin near the top of his gaping wound, slicing further up. She exposed a broken sternum and began to pick away the bones there as Danny shrieked in pain. All he could see was red now, a bright, blinding red of pain.

—

The Ecto-Dejecto should keep him from changing shape again.

Maddie, what if he’s not changing shape? What if…

Don’t think that way. This isn’t Danny. This… thing… has never been Danny. It’s all a trick. Can’t you see that?

I can’t Maddie. I just can’t.

Fine, Jack. Leave. You’re a spineless oaf anyways. I’ll do this on my own.

—

As she chipped away at the bones protecting his heart, the scientist ignored a desperate and bleeding phantom. She stopped only occasionally to scribble on the papers behind her. Ultimately, she ceased chipping away the sternum, and began to break and yank out the ribs which interfered with her work. She took six in total, examining and observing each as she pulled them out. Each landed on the surgical tray as she went. Eventually, her path to the hybrid’s heart had become unobstructed.

Danny pleaded with her, promising to tell her everything if only she would stop. She did not listen, only choosing a new blade in which to use in her experiments. The scientist did not hesitate as the she placed the scalpel and dragged, slicing open his heart. Blood and ectoplasm in equal amounts gushed forward into the maw of his chest like a demented sort of floodgate. As he gasped in his final breath, Danny could make out a pair of purple eyes and a wisp of reddish-brown hair behind those goggles of inky blackness.

#I formatted this on my phone so it might be a bit weird #Danny phantom #my fanfic #ghosty talks

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