#I want a Marksman toy

[marsspeedway]

I think Tumblr likes the COLLEGE AU and I love the AUs…. THEN GABRIEL PLAYS THE VIOLIN (the original idea) AND THE KEYBOARD WHY NOT.

The fanfic was inspired by: https://www.tumblr.com/themachine/742337025681850368/happy-friends-day-everybody

If you are willing to read 2725 words of a work in progress about Gabriel and V1 here it is: *English is not my first language so sorry if there are mistakes, this is mostly translated with an online translator and some corrections by me.

Gabriel really didn't expect to find some dusty old belongings when he returned to his parents' house for a small family dinner with his mother, his two older brothers and a few other relatives he's not very close to. He didn't expect to find Michael so excited when his mother pointed out that he was in the attic, nor did he expect Michael to have taken most of the items out of the boxes when he got there.

The items were scattered on the floor, a few other boxes and the small folding table they kept there. Most of it was his father's stuff, junk or trash he doesn't care about but knows his mother doesn't have the heart to throw away; not when it's the last memories she has of his father before he disappeared.

Gabriel remembers him: a tall, elegant man, extremely strict and whom he had very little time to be around. Even his brothers, who should have known him better, don't know much about him either.

Now, standing here in the dusty air caused by Michael snooping and rummaging through boxes, Gabriel looks around. The attic is not small although neither is his house so he finds it normal. They keep huge amounts of antiques from his grandparents and even great-grandparents or older ancestors that he has only heard stories about. For example: an old desk that belonged to a writer in his family, one of those huge clocks that he remembers they had for a long time in their living room and that he still remembers jumping out of fright every time it rang, Raphael's old drum set is also lying around dismantled and of course Michael's cello in a corner next to the drums on the floor.

Gabriel looks at them and clearly remembers that these things didn't go there, these used to be in a deeper part of the attic.

"What are you looking at Gabe?"

The young man turned his head when he detected his brother's voice and silently motioned with his head towards the instruments. The man walked over, standing next to Gabriel to look at what he was referring to.

"Ah those old things? Well, I thought I'd take my cello to practice again and Raphael wanted his drums too." Michael explained as he folded his arms and then hummed softly, Gabriel raised an eyebrow under his helmet without turning to look at him. "Just in case you want to know…" Michael said slowly, moving closer to Gabriel to slip an arm around his neck and leaning his weight on him.

This couldn't be good.

"Your keyboard and violin are in the back…" GOD DAMN- "I don't mean you should use them, you know…I was just reminding you in case you want them back or want to do something with them." Michael had to have felt him tense up and he definitely did; the way he gently bumped the sides of their heads together with the slight click of the metal of their helmets touching, the way he stroked his back reassuringly, the way he let him go when he felt Gabriel stir.

"You can get rid of them, you don't have to keep them." The older man reminded him by giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder before releasing him completely. "If you want them go ahead, they're in the back on the left… Call me if you need help with anything, yes?" Michael said as he walked away with Gabriel giving him a simple thumbs up in affirmation mode and drawing a chuckle from Michael as he gently shook his head. Sometimes he wondered where his brother had picked up such quiet habits.

When Gabriel watched Michael disappear down the stairs he turned around, hesitating for a second whether to actually go further into the attic but after a few seconds he decided to do so, sighing and spreading his wings to illuminate the area.

The further he goes in he can see more and more boxes, some sealed with tape and others just closed, others possibly opened by Michael and resting on or at the foot of some rotting furniture.

After poking around a bit Gabriel manages to get to the bottom, catching a somewhat large object that is covered by a dark tarp.

Gabriel swallows.

He reaches over, reaching down to drag the heavy tarp off the object's surface and drop it to the ground, revealing what's underneath: his old keyboard.

Okay, one of two… Where's the other one? Gabriel scans the area with his eyes, settling his attention on an old chair where, on the seat, rests a case now whitish thanks to the accumulated dust. Gabriel reaches over, running a hand over it in an attempt to clean it up a bit though it only spreads it further and decides to leave it alone, picking it up and taking it with him to where the keyboard is.

Gabriel used to love these things, don't get him wrong, but now that he remembers their existence and knows that Michael also knows they are here he doesn't hesitate to have his brother tell his mother about his rediscovery and his plans with his old cello. Gabriel's mother is a bit… intense when it comes to music or dance or waltz or whatever it is she likes.

She had made her 3 children practice ballet, she had rehearsed them for the fancy parties that were organized among the rich families in an attempt to make them gentlemen who knew how to waltz well with the damsels, she had put them in an orchestra and also a choir and of course she had made them attend church. It had been fun for a while; when they could play together and have fun or when they practiced anything whenever. But when Michael and Raphael began to have more duties and obligations they began to drift away; leaving Gabriel alone to face it all.

He danced, played, sang, attended mass every Sunday and was a good student until he too could quit like his brothers.

He remembers the moment when his mother informed him that he could stop his extracurricular activities, he remembers how he simply covered his keyboard and put away his violin for the last time one day and never played them again. He knows the same thing happened to his bible now lying somewhere in the bedroom he shares with V1, abandoned when he stumbled upon the blue machine that slowly pulled him away from the path of God his family had instilled in him to follow.

Ah… V1.

Well, now he no doubt knows someone who will be interested in the instruments. He doesn't plan to give them to them, he still loves them and wants to try them again but surely he can lend them to them if they ask for them. Taking them to them sounds like a good idea since besides cheering up the machine he has for a roommate he can practice and try to de-rust a bit before the recital he is sure his mother will force convince them to do.

Gabriel made a mental note to take them with him tomorrow morning when he went back to his dorm, maybe carrying them there won't be so comfortable but it will certainly be worth it to see V1, his friend, happy.

…

The dinner went well, honestly much better than he expected and he was happy with that. Especially since he managed to avoid all the questions about the church he attended, his schedule or if he had already conquered a lady. Of course he had! But it's different to ask that question than to ask if a lady had conquered him, because certainly hadn't. Not when there was a cerulean machine waiting for him in his apartment… FRIENLY- THEY'RE HIS FRIENDS. HE JUST LIKED THEM.

Anyway… It was good. Certainly much better than the last family dinner they had at Christmas. Gabriel never wants to see Michael angry again, that much is clear to him.

He doesn't remember why they had started fighting because, honestly, he hadn't been paying attention. Gabriel was more interested in eating or thinking about what he would do when he got back to his bedroom, thinking about the gift he had bought for V1 that was now hiding in his closet: a replica gun from a game that V1 had been looking for for some time now and that Gabriel had found in perfect condition at a garage sale. Even packaged and with its 4 coins! With the 'Marksman' in his possession V1 almost completed their collection.

Gabriel felt a little proud to have found it. It's old, he knows that, and he also knows that V1 would love it.

He was so deep in thought at the time that he didn't even notice when the voices around him began to raise and only noticed when a bump on the table made him jump in place and nearly spill the spoonful of mashed potato that was going straight into his mouth.

Ah… Another family situation. Nothing new for the times.

Whatever, the point is that this dinner was better than Christmas. And if you'd like to know: yes, V1 absolutely loved the gift. And Gabriel received a new microphone that he had been wanting to buy for a long time: now he could better record his little audios and attempts at home podcasts.

To commemorate the gift V1 opened it carefully, not wanting to damage anything in the slightest because: 1, it was a collector's item and 2, it was a gift from Gabriel. Instead the microphone was lightly tested, saving the real test for later when V1 received an audio from Gabriel that DEFINITELY tested the capabilities of the device.

V1 saved the audio.

Even if it was a silly audio of Gabriel basically mumbling into the microphone in a seductive, gravelly voice that he would kick their ass if they left a mess in the apartment again.

V1 saved the audio.

And now there was Gabriel, walking across campus in the direction of his shared residence hall with a keyboard under his arm and a violin case in his other hand along with his backpack on his back. It was less uncomfortable than he thought it would be although being a 6 foot tall, heavily muscled guy he doubted he would have much trouble with lifting that amount of weight.

When he found himself in front of the door he thought about knocking and waiting to see if the machine was home in the hope that they would open it for him but when he distinguished the sound of an electric guitar on the other side he considered that it would be better not to disturb them in one of their practices.

He fumbled to pass the violin case to his other hand and used the now free one to rummage in his pants pocket for his keys, snapping them into the lock when he found them and turning it to open the lock. The door opened and he was glad when the old hinge didn't squeak knowing that V1 had oiled it as he had asked.

He walked in closing the door behind him and finding his living room in a much better state than he thought it would be. The cushions were a bit of a mess but other than that everything was in its place: the small coffee table was clean with nothing on it, the bookshelves were still tidy, the couches weren't out of place and there was no junk around.

It was a relief.

The familiar sound of the electric guitar quieted for a moment and left him in total silence as he placed the keyboard on the larger couch and on it he laid the violin case, then as he took off his backpack Gabriel gave a nod and at the same time the guitar restarted loudly as Gabriel knew it would. The angel could easily imagine V1 doing the same as him only in a more passionate way and lost in the frenzy of the song: more intense and violent.

He took off his coat, leaving it hanging on the coat rack in the entryway as he made his way down the hallway humming the guitar melody before catching one of the lyrics and singing it quietly.

Rock hadn't been something he'd listened to much growing up, much less metal but he'd certainly grown fond of it since V1 started showing them to him and unconsciously, or consciously, they had become two of his favorite genres. He would deny it with V1, feigning annoyance when the machine would put music on the speakers or when they played a song he knew but they would quickly catch Gabriel humming softly or bobbing his head to the music but would say nothing about it. They would let it happen and enjoy the company in the moment.

At the end of the hallway was the bathroom and before that were the two rooms of the apartment: one facing the other. The doors matched and Gabriel remembers how more than once they both tried to leave at the same time without being aware of each other's presence and how they bumped into each other. At first they were annoyed, really only Gabriel was, but slowly as their friendship grew they both took it more gracefully; like a little attunement.

They learned each other's schedules so it didn't happen so often. Gabriel gets up first thing, at 5am to shower and take his time in the bathroom, at 5:30 the bathroom is free for V1 to use at 6am when they wake up and when they leave breakfast is prepared and ready on the table: blood and whatever Gabriel is going to eat. At 6:30 the dishes are clean and they both share the bathroom to finish getting ready: V1 wipes the unabsorbed or dried blood off the plating and Gabriel does whatever it is that angels do under that helmet of his. V1 still doesn't understand it, they just know it's like washing his mouth or brushing his teeth or something… Oh, and that Gabriel doesn't take off his helmet… Just like he doesn't take it off to eat.

Peeking through V1's half-open doorframe Gabriel watches them from behind, strumming the strings of their guitar with fervor and excitement as they nod their head before the song ends and thus they too must hit their last note.

The angel leans back against the door and watches fondly as the machine sucks in air and listens as the fans spin in the sudden silence, the machine's chest rises and falls in pseudo breaths in an attempt to keep their components cool after the intense movement and Gabriel laughs softly as he claps his hands, making the machine turn their head in his direction.

"Good job there, that sounds great!" Gabriel complimented as he walked into the room, V1 turning fully around to sign a 'thank you'.

"How was your weekend?" Gabriel asked approaching the robot who already knew his intentions since they saw him walking towards them slightly opening his arms.

"Pretty good. We practiced a lot and made progress on a few songs. How about you?" V1 signed before opening their arms and accepting Gabriel between them, letting themselves be squeezed by the strong angel in front of them.

"I'm glad you had a good time." Gabriel murmured sweetly, slouching down and resting his chin on the machine's shoulder. "A good family dinner, you know how they usually are…" Gabriel whispered soothingly, closing his eyes as he enjoyed the affection and feel of the metal of V1's arms around him.

"I also have something to show you." Gabriel hummed, pulling away and placing his hands on V1's shoulders. At the man's words the robot perked up, pulling away from him to bounce in place with excitement and curiosity, drawing a chuckle from Gabriel.

"Come, follow me." He said, sliding his hand down his companion's arm and taking their hand before leading them out of the room. V1 didn't complain, this had been something Gabriel had been doing unconsciously for the past few weeks and V1 found it harmless, almost cute if not charming.

[pastafossa]

"From A Squirt Gun, With Love" (Bucky Barnes x F!Reader, Fic)

Time for the next prompt for my Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! This is for day 5's prompt: water gun fight. It's also been a while since I've written for my favorite super soldier, so today's prompt is for Bucky Barnes! You can see the rest of the prompts I've chosen here if you'd like to know what's coming this month from me. Also, if you'd like notifications when I post a new story, drabble, or chapter, you can follow my sideblog @pastaxandria and set it for notifications! Side note, once I've got more these will all be edited a bit more and placed on my AO3, so if you lose one, just keep an eye out over there!

Ship: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Wordcount: 1.5k

Warnings for this chapter, let's do this: some suggestive dialogue and innuendo

You couldn’t afford another mistake. 

He’d been hunting you for at least an hour now, stalking you determinedly through the corridors of the compound and the manicured gardens outside. He’d already nailed you half a dozen times. And much to your disbelief, one of those times was because he’d somehow managed to find his way up into the air vents where he could track you unseen. You’d done your best to at least make it a challenge for him, relying on a variety of traps you’d managed to set up ahead of time, but it hadn’t done you as much good as you’d hoped, your hit count a measly two against his six. And now? Now you were running low on ammunition, and just as low on workable options. What was worse, he’d cornered you in the garage. You’d been able to tuck yourself beneath an SUV before he could see you, but there was only one exit—one currently being monitored by your annoyingly precise marksman of a boyfriend. 

You held your breath at the quiet scrape of heavy combat boots scuffing against the concrete floor. If you had to guess, he was wandering around about two rows over and off to your left. He could have bent over and just scanned beneath the cars immediately, but he was enjoying this far too much to let it end that easily. He was toying with you, dragging things out now that he had you boxed in. 

“I know you’re in here, doll,” came his low chuckle. “Come on out, and I’ll go easy on you. Besides, you gotta be soaked by now, and not in the fun way. But I can change that for you if you want. All you gotta do is pop that pretty head up for me.”

Not a chance. 

You weren’t going down without a fight. 

You clutched your water gun tighter, checking the glowing tactical display—you hadn’t even known high-tech water guns existed until Bucky had dropped one into your hands with a grin. “If my girl wants a water gun fight, we’re gettin’ a water gun fight.” 

And what you saw wasn’t good. 

Shit. 

You were down to eighteen percent tank capacity. Anywhere else in the compound, you might have had a chance to reload with one of the buckets you’d both scattered around, but you’d forgotten to put one in the garage. If you didn’t get him with your next shot, you were done. 

“The fact that you’re not out here shootin’ at me like before tells me you’re low.” His voice sounded different now: higher up, and a bit more distant. Had he… climbed on top of the cars? “You need more practice. I’ll admit, I was proud of you when you got that ass shot in, but that ain’t happenin’ again. My turn to get your ass now, darlin’. You gonna give me what’s mine?”

You sucked your lower lip for a moment before carefully edging your way forward, water gun held in front of you just in case he decided to pull a horror movie move and drop into view. It wasn’t easy. The goddamn water gun was shaped more like a shotgun than a super soaker, clunky and a bitch to drag around. The upside was it had an automatic reload so you didn’t have to worry about making any noise while pumping the gun. Its range was good for a water gun, around twenty feet, but not good enough that you could shoot Bucky at distance. You’d need to get close.

One of the cars down the row creaked, tires groaning, presumably as your massive super soldier of a boyfriend strolled along the top of the cars like they were paving stones. That he wasn’t bothering to be silent was… unusual.

“Here, kitty kitty,” he purred, his voice growing fainter as he wandered down towards the other end of the garage. “Where’s my pretty girl gone?”

On the one hand, you enjoyed hearing that tone from him, playful and relaxed, warm and content. He’d grown pretty comfortable with you, open and affectionate, over the time you’d known him. That comfort, that openness with you had only blossomed further as your relationship had morphed into something romantic. But even so, it was still unusual for him to let go like this just so he could have fun. It was progress, and that knowledge filled your heart with a sparkling warmth. 

But you also couldn’t help but be the least bit suspicious, because it would be absolutely like him to use his voice and playful tone to distract you from something. 

You froze again when a pair of boots suddenly appeared on the concrete in front of you, landing without a sound—you’d been right; all the sound a minute ago had been to try to lure you out, make you think he was farther away than he really was. You didn’t dare move, not when the slightest sound might give you away. Slowly, the boots shifted on the concrete as he turned one way, and then the other. Waiting for you to make a run for it. 

But he’d taught you better than that. 

There was the softest, quietest little huff of amusement, or maybe pride, instead. But instead of heading off, he began to kneel. 

Shit, shit, shit—

He was going to duck down and look under the car. He knew you were here, he had to. He had to. Could you shift the angle of your water gun before he leaned down and saw you—

Fortunately for you, it became clear a second later that he was only lowering himself into a crouch. You stilled again in the shadows beneath the SUV, your gun still aimed cautiously at his legs.

Speaking of which, you had a really good view of his thighs at this angle. With him crouched the way he was, his thighs looked even thicker than usual, deliciously hard muscle covered in old denim. The round curve of his ass looked just as good where he filled out his jeans, though the dark splotch on the tight fabric made you grin. It was a testament to one of the only two shots you’d managed to hit him with. Sure, he’d shot you twice in the ass in retaliation, but it had been absolutely worth it. 

He settled onto the balls of his feet, rocking a little back and forth. You heard a soft whir, before his metal hand appeared in your view. Your heart skipped a beat, a droplet of maybe-water-maybe-sweat rolling down your temple. Only… his hand didn’t appear to be going for you like you’d expected. Instead, it slipped down to the concrete. One metal fingertip gleaming in the fluorescent lighting, it brushed lightly at the droplets of water drying on the concrete. 

Fresh droplets. 

From you. 

Crap. 

His head appeared beneath the SUV as he leaned over to meet your eye. Then he flashed you a feral grin. “Hi doll,” he said smugly. “Hi Bucky. I love you,” you said fondly, and shot him in the face. 

His head reared back as he spat out a curse, frantically swiping the water away from his face. It gave you just enough time for you to squirm out from under the SUV and take off down row between the cars, your sneakers slapping against the concrete, the wind blowing your hair back. If you could get to the door before he did, you could turn around and lock him in. It wouldn’t keep him here forever, but it might buy you a few minutes to reload. 

Based on the rapidly pounding footsteps behind you, though, you weren’t even going to get close. Not when it sounded like he was charging after you with every last bit of super-soldier-powered speed he had. You needed another plan, or else—

Something slammed hard against one of the cars behind you, startling you enough to make you stumble. In that brief moment of distraction, Bucky had vaulted himself up off the car and over your head. 

His broad form landed smoothly in front of you in one easy motion, dropping into a crouch. He rose slowly, powerful muscle gradually uncoiling inch by inch, until finally he loomed up over you, water gun held ominously in one hand. His pale eyes had gone dark with heat, pupils blown wide as he fixated on you: his prey. He took one prowling step forward, a flash of pink from his tongue as he lazily licked the droplets of water away from his mouth.

“You shot me,” he rumbled hungrily. “I should be mad. But damn, doll. That was hot.” “Hot enough to stop you from shooting me back?” you asked hopefully.

“Not a chance,” he said with a smirk, before firing a blast of cold water directly at your abdomen. You let out another shriek, turning to sprint away from him, a trail of damp footprints left behind. And if your shriek was half laughter, well, his playful growl was just as full of joy as he took off after you. 

[sexsylexi]

Home coming Nerf Battle

Wally West x reader

Summary-

Wally West returns home exhausted to find his apartment in chaos and his family missing. Initially worried, he soon discovers his partner and son engaged in a playful Nerf gun battle. Relieved and amused, he joins in, enjoying the lighthearted family fun. The evening is filled with laughter, ice cream, and a cozy movie, reminding Wally of the love and joy his family brings into his life.

---------------------------------------------------

Wally West was exhausted as he trudged up the stairs to his apartment. Another day of hero work, another series of battles, and all he wanted was to spend some time with his family. As he approached the door, he noticed it was eerily silent inside. Usually, at this time, he could hear his son’s laughter or the sound of the TV.

When he opened the door, the sight that greeted him was unexpected. The apartment was in chaos—sofas flipped over, tables upended, and toys scattered everywhere. The lights were off, casting the place in dim shadows. His heart raced for a moment, imagining the worst. He took a cautious step inside, scanning the room for any signs of life.

“Hello?” he called out, his voice echoing slightly in the quiet space. “Y/N? Little man?”

No response.

Wally moved deeper into the apartment, his senses on high alert. Just as he was about to pull out his phone to call for backup, he heard a soft giggle.

Suddenly, he felt a tap on his leg and looked down to see his son, beaming up at him with mischief in his eyes. He was holding a brightly colored Nerf gun.

“Gotcha, Daddy!” his son exclaimed, laughing.

Before Wally could respond, a soft foam dart hit him squarely on the shoulder. He turned to see you, standing behind one of the overturned sofas with a Nerf gun in hand, grinning from ear to ear.

“Welcome home, hero,” you said playfully. “Thought you could use a little bit of fun after a long day.”

Relief washed over Wally, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “You two had me worried there for a second.”

You gave him a mock salute. “Just keeping you on your toes.”

Wally swiftly picked up a nearby Nerf gun and aimed it at you, a playful glint in his eyes. “Alright, prepare for the fastest Nerf battle of your life!”

Laughter filled the apartment as the three of you engaged in an epic Nerf gun battle, ducking behind furniture and dodging foam darts. The worries of the day melted away, replaced by the simple joy of being with his family.

Eventually, you all collapsed onto the floor, breathless and giggling. Wally wrapped his arms around you and your son, pulling you close.

“This,” he said softly, “is exactly what I needed.”

You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder. “Welcome home, Wally. We missed you.”

He kissed the top of your head and then his son’s. “I missed you guys too. Now, who’s up for some ice cream?”

Your son’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Me! Me!”

As the three of you headed to the kitchen, Wally couldn’t help but feel incredibly grateful. No matter how tough things got out there, he knew he always had a place filled with love and laughter to come back to.

In the kitchen, you pulled out a tub of Wally’s favorite mint chocolate chip ice cream. Wally scooped generous portions into bowls, adding a few sprinkles for good measure. The three of you sat around the table, enjoying the treat.

“So,” you began, “how was your day, Wally?”

Wally sighed contentedly, savoring a spoonful of ice cream. “Busy. We had a run-in with some of the Injustice League. But everything turned out okay. What about you guys?”

“Well,” you said with a mischievous smile, “we had a run-in with some Nerf bandits, but I think we handled it pretty well.”

Wally chuckled. “I think you did. Our little guy here is becoming quite the marksman.”

Your son beamed with pride. “I practiced all day, Daddy!”

Wally ruffled his hair. “And it shows, buddy. You got me good.”

After finishing your ice cream, the three of you began the task of tidying up the living room. Wally moved at super speed, flipping the sofas back and setting the tables upright in a blur, while you and your son gathered the Nerf darts and toys.

“Having a speedster around definitely makes cleaning up easier,” you remarked, smiling at Wally.

“Perks of the job,” he said, giving you a wink.

Once the apartment was back to its normal state, you all settled on the couch to watch a movie. Your son snuggled between you and Wally, his little head resting on Wally’s shoulder.

As the movie played, Wally felt the day’s exhaustion finally catching up to him, but it was a good kind of tired. The kind that came from being surrounded by the people he loved most.

As the credits rolled, you noticed your son had fallen asleep, his little chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Wally carefully picked him up and carried him to his room, tucking him in with a gentle kiss on his forehead.

When he returned to the living room, he found you waiting for him, a warm smile on your face. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “For tonight. For everything.”

You looked up at him, your eyes reflecting the love you felt. “You’re welcome, Wally. We’re a team, remember? Through thick and thin.”

He kissed you softly, a promise of many more moments like this to come. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[melded-galaxy]

Ultimis Richtofen: Throughout the years

Part 2 of 3: Shit Gets Wacky

Call of the dead: After the teleporter malfunctions, Richtofen and the gang get stuck in a pitch-black closet. Shenanigans ensue. While waiting for the team of unfortunate celebrities to retrieve what he needs, Richtofen sexually assaults Dempsey twice, gets everybody hammered to distract them from any pesky resurfacing traumatic memories, designates potty areas and schemes.

Not much to say about this one, err, Richtofen's extremely horny and making it everyone else's problem, I guess? There we go.

Shangri La: Somehow, Richtofen is hornier.

The doctor is attracted to the statue of himself the natives built. He's constantly hitting on Nikolai in the jungle and makes incredibly sus remarks about the spike trap and the water gaiser. Clearly, the sexual frustration is real.

Richtofen's childlike tendencies also get even more exaggerated in this map. 'Weee!! My shoes go squeaky squeaky!' '*gasps* Spectre! It almost sounds like doctor!' 'Ah the beer of the root! Aha, I said root...'

It's implied Edward's mother used to scold him for playing with toys meant for girls and for frequently masturbating. 'Mother said I shouldn't play with dolls... or myself, but I don't always do what mother likes.'

Furthermore, he becomes enraged when mentioning his upbringing. 'this reminds me of my childhood-STOP TALKING TO ME!!'

Richtofen is becoming a better marksman through much practice. 'Either their heads are getting bigger, or I'm getting better!' 'Sniping's an art of which I am a master!'

Curiously, Edward doesn't remember his time ruling the natives, only remarking that the temple seems familiar to him and that he likes the scenery. Element 115-induced memory loss strikes again.

Plotwise, Richtofen manages to get his hands on the focusing stone and is about to teleport to the moon, when Dempsey yet again fires a wonder weapon inside of the teleporter. This causes the machine to malfunction and the gang make an unplanned trip to the Pentagon. 

Classified: Classified is a bit of a confusing and abrupt entry, as it was added in bo4 to a story that took place all the way back in bo1, but a really interesting one.

Richtofen is quite a bit calmer here than in previous maps. His voice is also lower pitched for the most part. Out of universe, I think Nolan North said that he struggled to reach the same pitch as he had before, possibly because of both time passing and how used he got to voicing the much calmer Primis version of the character, but I'm not 100 percent sure. In universe, this is probably just because Ricky's tired and has less energy in this map, lol. He just got done fighting countless hordes in Shangri-la after all. Old man needs a nap.

He's starting to get impatient when it comes to fulfilling his plan to take over the MPD. 'One day, I won't HAVE to perform such menial tasks.' 'Are we on the moon yet?' 'Mock me all you want, one day soon I will be the one doing all the mocking!'

Dempsey hilariously mocks Richtofen's high-pitched voice in this map lol. 'What's wrong Richtofen? You scared? I thought I heard a little *Aaah!*'

When reviving Dempsey, Richtofen claims the man owes him a 'favour'. What that entails is (thankfully) never elaborated on. 'I hope you remember this, Dempsey. I shall want a favour in return.'

Edward alludes to Germany and Japan's alliance in WW2 when Takeo revives him. 'Ah I knew I could count on you, Axis old buddy old pal!'

Richtofen's getting better at hitting them headshots. 'I wasn't even trying! Hard.' 'I think that might be my tenth headshot of the day. Hooray!'

Samantha reveals to Edward that she's seen everything he will do if he manages to gain control of the MPD. She also warns him that they cannot use the aether, it will use them. 'Oh, SO brave, Teddy! You come all this way, just to possess the aether's powers! What was it you wanted? Oh ja, to find Agartha! As if it will somehow solve all your problems! How...childish. Do you want to know, Edward? What I've learned about this place? The aether is not for us. Not me. Not you. Not anyone. We do not use it. It uses us!' 'If you acquire this power, I know what you will do. I have seen everything. Do not worry, Teddy, I won't ruin the big surprise! It would make your sad little head explode! Besides, it doesn't matter because I won't let you take it!'

Hypocritically, he complains about Samantha's voice and screaming, despite, well... everything.

Classified's hidden logs reveal that after ww2 ended, Richtofen cut a deal with both the Americans and Russians to split Group 935's employees and research. Richtofen also revealed to both governments that Griffin Station was on the moon, which helped to ignite the space race. 

A personal log Richtofen recorded reveals he did this on October 10th 1945. The friendship between Richtofen and Doctor Schuster appeared to be waning, no doubt due to Richtofen's unhinged mental state. When Schuster protests about dividing Group 935's staff and resources amongst the Americans and Russians, Richtofen tells him that: 'Everything Group 935 stood for died the day Maxis made that infernal deal with the Reichstag. You und I both know this to be true. Listen to me und understand. Our technological development with 115 has the envy of the entire world! These agreements guarantee our work will continue in America und Russia, and that they will continue with our scientists at the helm! I am sorry... but for our work to live on, Group 935 must come to an end. Oh cheer up Doctor Schuster, I have asked that you go to the Americans, it'll be good for your... softer side.'

So, weirdly enough, Richtofen still hated the deal Maxis made with the Nazis, even long after he was corrupted by the apothicons. He's also still fond enough of Schuster to bother guaranteeing the man's safe well-being with the Americans rather than the Russians, as he would no doubt be treated better by them.

Later on in the same log, Schuster pleads with Richtofen to tell him the truth about why he's doing all of this and what he's planning. Edward only laughs and tells him that he will be 'well taken care of.'

On a passing note, I recommend checking out all of Classified's logs/phone messages/punch cards if you haven't already. They contain a ton of fascinating lore about pretty much the entire storyline. Seriously, go do it, it's great stuff.

Moon: Here we are, at the finale of Bo1's zombie storyline! As we all know, this is the map that Richtofen finally completes his grand scheme to take over the MPD and subsequently the world. He does this by swapping bodies with Samantha and then attempts to kill Sam and the rest of Ultimis 'But! Not before we continue the game'. Maxis also comes into play, via being absorbed into Griffin Station's computer systems, and succeeds in weakening Richtofen's connection to the aether by blowing the Earth up with missiles with help from Samantha, Dempsey, Takeo and Nikolai. As revealed much later on in the story, Samantha and Ultimis don't die, rather they eventually manage to teleport back to Area 51 where they are subsequently captured and experimented on by the Americans.

Richtofen's getting laughably bad at hiding secrets. It almost feels like he's mocking the rest of Ultimis for their naivety. 'Wow, look at this place! A place I've never ever been before... ever. Someone turn on the power.' 'FINALLY IT WILL BE MINE! I mean, hey I think we're in space!'

He claims to be a very good hacker. 'My mad haxor skills are only eclipsed by my mad scientist skills. And it's very close.'

He seems to not know the English word 'excavator', or has forgotten it. 'That big diggy thingy is going to FUCK US UP!' 'Hm, it seems the big diggy thingy is going to mess up this rig.'

The doc also hints that he may know about alternative realities, something that comes into effect much later on in the story. 'Nothing happened... at least in this reality.'

He ponders turning Griffin Station into a thrill park if his plan to take over the MPD fails (based and thrill pilled): 'If this plan fails, I should build a thrill park here!'

Unsurprisingly, he seems to harbour a dislike for American women. This could also double as a leaning on the fourth wall moment, lol. 'What is with Groph's obsession with American women? All they ever do is PLAY GAMES!'

Interestingly, or perhaps terrifyingly, Edward shows interest in having children of his own. 'I hope this drink doesn't affect my fertility. Oh, the thought of little doctors!'

More of Richtofen being a huge hypocrite; he mocks Maxis's German accent despite having an even stronger German accent that's more exaggerated.

Hope you guys are enjoying this analysis so far! Part 3 might take a bit longer, quite a bit to get through. I'm really enjoying researching all of this, even if it's taking a shit ton of time lol. I'm sure there's still stuff i've missed or forgotten to mention, so feel free to add anything of note in replies/tags!

[nahoney22]

Hi! I love your work!! I was wondering if you’d do a fic with Crosshair and a female reader with body dysmorphia issues, maybe with the reader being extra nervous to undress in front of him because of his enhanced eye sight? But if it’s not your thing that’s cool thanks for sharing your cool tbb fics! ❤️

His Perfect***

Crosshair X F!Reader

word count: 910 words

When an intimate time calls ahead, you can’t help but feel nervous about undressing in front of your other half. Luckily, he’s rather loving to you and wants to prove it to you.

warnings: I’m gonna put it as 16+ as it’s a little suggestive if you squint but no smut involved - just talks of nudity. Mentions of body dysmorphia , reader feeling insecure and angst. Finished with comfort and fluff.

A/N remember that if you’re feeling low about your body - you’re beautiful as you are and others will think it too. Also, sorry for the wait anon 💜

Masterlist🤍

“You alright?”

Crosshair's voice had seemed to snap you out of your thoughts, thoughts of self-doubt and insecurity. Something that had been occurring more than just a little bit.

Yourself and Crosshair had been together for a while but when it came to intimacy, there was a strain and that partly came from you. For a long while, you have been suffering with body dysmorphia. Every time you look in the mirror, you would pick and poke at every little thing that you would deem as ‘flawed’. With all those flaws building up in your mind, you could only worry that Crosshair would see the same.

“Y-yeah,” you say with a shaken breath, looking down at your fingers that we’re still holding onto the bottom of your shirt that you hadn’t quite yet pulled over your head, “just a little tired is all.”

Crosshair is already shirtless on the bunk, leaning back and looking up at you with a curious scowl. “You sure, kitten?” He sits up, making sure not to knock his head on the bunk above him before he stands, towering over you.

Your breath hitches a little as he stands in front of you, a hand gently resting on your waist as a smirk toys at his lips - maybe just thinking you’re shy. “Need some help with this?”

Despite the blush on your face, there’s a sense of dread knowing he wants to see you. Really see you.

“Sure.” You rasp, putting on a smile and it seems to have blind sided the Marksman as he gently plays with the fabric of your top, being as gentle as he can with you before he starts to pull it over your head.

But then, you panic.

“Wait, no sorry I can’t.” You quickly grab your top back down and step back, wrapping your arms around yourself as he stands there a little helpless and also panicked.

“Did I do something wrong?” He didn’t sound mad, concerned is all. Crosshair had made sure not to come any closer, allowing you to calm down and collect yourself.

You run your hands over your face, agitated and ashamed that you possibly ruined a sweet and intimate moment with your other half. “No, of course not. It’s just me.”

He blinks and rubs the back of his neck before sitting back down, leaning forward with isi hands clasped together. “Care to explain?”

“Not really, no.”

Crosshair studies you for a moment, seeing how you’re wringing your hands together and pulling at your clothes. He had been noticing it for a while. Especially when you would go somewhere and if there just so happens to be a mirror, you would stare haltingly at yourself. Then, you also started to wear clothes a little bit bigger than you would usually and at first he thought it was a comfort thing but it could also be something else too.

He sighs at himself, hating that he didn’t see it sooner. “Do you not want me to see you naked, cyar’ika?” His question is blunt and straightforward but he’s Crosshair after all, he is not one to pussyfoot around.

Your eyes meet his, yours being slightly blurry due to the small glaze of tears that wanted to spill. “I do it’s just…” you trail off, trying to think of the right thing to say but nothing seems right.

“You don’t want me to see you how you see yourself?”

You’re quite shocked at his words but as you sat on them, they were 100% correct. When you nod, he tsks and orders you gently to come towards him and as you do, you’re silently pulled into his lap with his arms keeping you safely pressed to his chest.

He’s silent, internally struggling a little on what to say. “If you’re ever doubting yourself when you see your reflection, I want you to try something for me?”

You tilt your head back to look up at him but he doesn’t meet your gaze. He wouldn’t tell you, but he was upset. Upset that he knows that he can’t find your demons for you as he just wanted to protect you until the end of time.

“Touch yourself. Touch your arms, legs, breasts, stomach whatever and try to realise that what you see, is not what your mind is perceiving.” Taking his advice silently, you gently place a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you Cross, I’ll try but I can’t promise it will work.”

“I know.” He says a bit too quickly but just knows he meant no harm, he didn’t want to sound agitated but seeing you upset made his heart ache. “But just know I think you’re perfect.” He mumbled, finally looking down at you and nuzzling his face against your hair, kissing the top of his head. “And I love you.”

Maybe you needed to step away from some mirrors because really, the only reflection you needed to see was the one in the eyes of someone who loves you and coincidentally, Crosshair had the most incredible set of eyes.

Masterlist🤍

More crosshair works

Tags: @nunanuggets @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr r @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz z @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @megafrost4 @discofern @theroguesully @equalityforcats @mustluvecho @misogirl828 @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @chxpsi @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 7 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @by-the-primes @torchbearerkyle @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @a-c-lee @autumnleaves1991-blog @tech-depression-inventory y @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf f @lucyysthings @tinyreadersmur @agenteliix x @photogirl894 @myinnerwonderlandmind @rintheemolion @kaminocasey @hotpinkplastoid @cosmic-persephone @imalovernotahater @swiftiexstarwarssimp @the-good-shittt @whore4rex

[lulu2992]

Exploration of the now-offline Far Cry 5 official websites

Part 4: Game Info (Europe)

Recovered content

The European website was first archived on October 9th, 2017, almost five months after the announcement and before the release of Far Cry 5. On the home page, after an image of the “key art” (see under the cut) and an invitation to watch this video...

...there was the ABOUT THE GAME section:

FREEDOM Set in beautiful Montana, an incredible Open World. Hope County welcomes you to the Land of the Free. FAMILY Led by The Father and commanded by The Heralds, Eden’s Gate preys on those hopeless folks who have fallen into economical and psychological despair. FIREARMS From shotguns to slingshots, this toy chest is stocked, locked and loaded with every piece of steel you’ll need to take down the Cult. Lead a resistance against a fanatical cult in small town, U.S.A., where Freedom, Firearms, and the Project at Eden’s Gate rule above all else. Lead a resistance against a fanatical cult in small town, U.S.A., where Freedom, Firearms, and the Project at Eden’s Gate rule above all else.

Clicking “More Info” took you to the GAME INFO page, which wasn’t archived before March 10th, 2018, and looked like this at least until February 7th, 2020 (last available archive):

FREEDOM, FAMILY & FIREARMS Welcome to Hope County, Montana, home to a fanatical doomsday cult known as The Project at Eden’s Gate that is threatening the community's freedom. Stand up to the cult’s leader, Joseph Seed and the Heralds, and spark the fires of resistance that will liberate the besieged community. In this expansive world, your limits and creativity will be tested against the biggest and most ruthless baddest enemy Far Cry has ever seen. It’ll be wild and it’ll get weird, but as long as you keep your wits about you, the residents of Hope County can rest assured you’re their beacon of hope. Join the Resistance on March 27th, 2018, with Far Cry 5. Available on PlayStation 4 system, Xbox One, and PC.

The FREEDOM section was mostly about the open world and game mechanics, but the others were about the Project and the Resistance.

Here is FAMILY:

PROJECT AT EDEN’S GATE The Project at Eden’s Gate, led by The Father, believes The Collapse is imminent. They’re on a mission to save your soul – whether you want it or not. JOSEPH SEED – THE FATHER “I am your Father. And you are my Children.” FAITH SEED – THE SIREN Once you fall under Faith’s spell, you’re a goner. As Joseph’s voice, Faith acts as a divine instrument of chaos to keep the congregation in a state of bliss. JOHN SEED – THE INQUISITOR John will use intimidation, faith and violence to secure resources vital to the Cult’s survival - be it a home or a person. JACOB SEED – THE SOLDIER As the Cult’s recruiter and former Army marksman, big brother Seed’s main duty is protecting the Project at Eden’s Gate.

The four red buttons redirected to the Character Spotlight videos about Joseph, Faith, John, and Jacob posted on the Ubisoft UK YouTube Channel.

Here is FIREARMS:

THE RESISTANCE Throughout the hills, valleys, and townships of Hope County, civilians of all walks have joined forces to resist against the cult, and rid their land of its chaos once and for all. But it wouldn’t be as fun if new toys hadn’t been brought along the way. Boom boom boom boom! ♫

Clicking “More Info” opened a pop-up window with a video and a description for each character; I will detail all of that in future posts.

Commentary

Sadly, the European website was archived way less often than the American one. It seems it was also rarely updated, as it apparently said we could still “pre-order” the game... in 2020. But since it used to exist and wasn’t identical to the American version, I decided to include it in these posts too!

Under the cut are all the available source files, saved directly from the website, of the images you see in the screenshots:

But first, here is the site’s version of the “key art”:

And now the images that actually are in the screenshots:

(The icons became red when you hovered your cursor over them)

The three icons below are not the source files. I couldn’t find them so I simply took and cropped screenshots:

I will upload the pictures of the Resistance (from the FIREARMS section) in the posts dedicated to each character.

[quandaryqueen]

With Young Justice Riddler(or more if you want): He is coming home from a cuddly date with Y/N at the fair, and he realizes that his shirt smells like Y/N. So Eddie pulls his shirt up to his face to smell it before it fades away.

Lightheaded, lighthearted

Young Justice Edward Nygma X Reader

OHOHO this wil be good, to those who are requesting more of our pathetic baby YJ Eddie, I love you guys sooooo so much 💝✨

💚 It is most crucial to introduce major players in this little trip, so I won't refer these group fo people as solely 'your friends' throughout the whole narrative.

There's Lee, the horndog with the innuendos. but with that innocent face, no one suspected a thing and no one would believe you. The brightest, yet sometimes dimmest. Other than that, she's a sweetheart.

Diedre, the thrill seeker. Enables Lee a lot with her continuous spur of innuendos by adding fuel to the fire. A great cheerleader and pep talker, she is very encouraging and supporting, always the loudest in the crowd when it comes to showing support.

Nina, the stoic one, the sarcastic edge over lord. Mistress of dry humour, straight-faced and takes no shit. May look like she doesn't give a fuck, but don't let that fool you, she's the older sister friend that keeps everyone in check if she isn't the one enabling it, which is normally the case.

Marian, but she prefers to be called Macy, mom friend supreme. Sweet, warm, welcoming. Holds the metaphorical child-leashes in your friend group. Is placed under constant stress with either Lee, Diedre, Nina and you from your unique individual needs, circumstances, fuck ups and such.

💚 Carnival fairs!!! The food, the sights, the ambiance! The screams of children and adult alike as they course through the air from a highly questionable machinery that's probably overdue to repairs and maintenance... ITS FUN I SWEAR---

Well, you can always avoid the rides... But you have friends who are good in peer pressure, in which case, yes, you cannot avoid it. You can delay the rides by going elsewhere, but it won't take long until one of them hurls you in one of those the rides.

If you can tolerate/enjoy such activities, good for you. Your date on the other hand... Well, you gotta save it for last if you want him coherent, not vomitting and standing with two of his feet on the ground.

💚 And so while you're evading the carnival rides, Edward has taken to test himself with a few range-shooting games for fun. He's held a real gun before and aimed it at the Bat before, surely he can do it in a setting in which it's not really. Keyword, aimed, never shot. And he's only ever used it to intimidate anyways--but surely! Surely he can use a fake one! And besides, the targets aren't even moving... Unless the game is rigged, then it was not on him.

Anyways, there were five bullets loaded in the toy gun and you have a specific amount of targets to knock off a terrain to win a specific objects with points written on them. Ten points can win you a pen. Fifteen points you can win a snack. Twenty five points get a pencil case. Forty points can get you the fun ones, the stuffed points and boy, was he aiming for a one hundred to win youthe biggest stuff toy in there.

He has the gun in his hand, on a stance of what he thinks is the proper pose for a marksman.

Aim... Ready... Fire.

Aaaaand it missed. His aim was waaaay off. Upon firing, he catches the attention of your wandering friends and began to gather behind you. Knowing them full-well, they were going to heckle the fuck out of your poor man for the fun of it and though it's all in the name of fun and they don't really mean it, but you know how Edward can be a touch sensitive. Instead, Lee, Diedre and Nina stood behind scrutinizing the targets, then the operator, who has his eyes on you.

Whatever, he has four more shots.

... it didn't knock the target off the terrain.

Nina steps next to Edward and squints at the target for a moment, before turning to him.

"Try shooting that one," She points at the one at the edge, in which Edward follows and surely hits the target, but it didn't fell off. He empties the bullets, and it barely knocked it over. "Huh... The glue on that target sure is strong, ain't it Mister?" Nina points a barely concealed condescension at the operator, her accusatory gaze contorting to irritation when Macy smacked the sarcastic lass by the shoulder.

"I assure you, ma'am, they're not. See?" The operator demonstrates by picking up the target. Seeing satisfaction in Nina's eyes, he lowers the target back down.

"Sorry about that, Mister." Macy sheepishly smiles at him.

"Nah, I get it."

"I'll have another try."

Your friends glanced at your date with stunned faces. Oh he is determined to get you that damned stuffed animal, fuck his wallet.

💚 About five tries, not a point in his calibre and at this point, he was getting embarrassed. He is aware this might be rigged but at the same time, his ego was way to big for him to back down until he won the price. He is winning this for you, goddamnit! It feels as though he was playing basketball, and he has the ball and proclaims to you that this shot is for you, only for him to fail at shooting the ball in the ring and it just looks pathetic and to him, it symbolically equates his love for you being untrue. He doesn't know where he is pulling these bullshit from at this point, he is a mess.

"May I try?"

Edward flushed red when your hand lands on his arm and his determination and obligation to win this melted away. Of course he wasn't going to say no to you! Who would do such a thing?

"O-Of course!"

He hands you the gun and closely watched the concentration in your beautiful countenance scrutinize the target with sheer admiration in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, you squeezed the trigger.

For some reason, he wasn't that butt hurt. He initially thought he would, but not a speck of it was there. Instead, he felt proud and damn impressed. And his chest swelled at the memory of the sight of concentration in your features, how you somehow dropped from your usual self and into this unrecognisable, yet still beautiful side of you.

It was then Edward found out that your achievements were also your friends', as he almost jumped out of his skin when he heard them shriek behind him in excitement, shouting out words of support. But most of all, you actually did it! You sheepishly turned to them, rubbing the back of your neck whilst lowering the gun by the counter.

"HELL YEAH!"

"YOU GO BITCH!"

"WE KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!"

"WAY TO GO!"

"Oh come on you guys, it was just beginner's luck." You dismissively waved at them, before picking up the price by the counter. "This, is for you." You handed him the brown bear with a purple bow around its neck.

"T-thank you umm..." He swallows thickly, accepting the bear and pressing it to his chest. "I-uh... Good job! You did really well!"

"Aww, shucks..." You bit your lip before lightly nudging him. "I kept you in mind as an inspiration to win."

Edward stares at you with wide eyes. Have you now?

"I'm flattered, Y/N. I was actually... Um... The sentiment is mutual but uh, I kinda— y-ya know, failed." And it was pathetic.

"I know this sounds so cliché... But it's the thought that counts."

"OH MY GOSH, KARAOKE YOU GUYS!"

Diedre exclaimation bursts from the world you constructed with Edward where the only two of you exist at the moment. You were back in the present, where your friends began dragging both you and Edward to the said karaoke booth.

💚 The booth was small, but enough to fit six people if you are willing to squeeze against your seatmates... Or maybe sit on one's lap, that can work too and that's what you did. Edward was a touch flustered, but with enough convincing from you, he finally sat on your lap.

Anyways, songs were found and numbers were punched in. The microphone was functional in Diedre's hand and the machine was blaring the tracks you all know and love. At first, Edward was a touch too flustered to sing along with you and your friends. But as time comes, he finds himself singing as well, just not as loud as you were being. The microphone gets passed around during verse and chorus switch, in which Edward denied the microphone and instead passed it to someone else.

"But mama I'm in love with a criminal! And this type of love isn't rational, it's physical! Mama please don't cry, I will be alright! All reason aside, I just can't deny, love the guy~"

Diedre had always been fond of singing and she is one hell of a vocalist. But at times, she tends to be carried away and throw what she had learned from vocal classes and just scream lyrics with friends.

"IF YOU CAN SEE THAT I'M THE ONE WHO UNDERSTANDS YOU, BEEN HERE ALL ALONG SO WHY CAN'T YOU SEE—! YOU BELONG WITH ME, OOOH YOU BELONG WITH ME!!!"

Lee is a screamer, not a shred of vocal talent within her but she is an enthusiastic fellow who is passionate about it.

"Strumming my pain with his fingers, singing my life with his words. Killing me softly with his song, killing me softly with his song, telling my whole life with his words, killing me softly with his song~"

Macy falls more into the soft, whispery singing voice suited for lullabies.

"Somebody, ooh, somebody! Can anybody find me somebody to looooooove!"

Nina and her rock and roll voice, of course. Chest voice is rich and she nails more of the guttural side of singing, but now and again, she belts out.

"Oh shut the fuck up you're winning in love." Nina shoves your face away from the microphone from singing the chorus, her gaze flickering to Edward, before she continues with the second verse.

They're already wilding at this stage, Edward wonder what could possibly happen if alcohol were to be involved...

💚 As the "the first one to get a sore throat" competition ensues, Edward couldn't help but to feel at ease at how your friends would include him in every activity you engage in. He doesn't feel lost in conversations, as they would provide him context.

He doesn't notice the way you wrapped your arms around his waist while he was seated in your lap until you temporarily unwrapped them and reached for something. He felt as though your arms were natural to be there, around his midsection. The moment he noticed, he was flaring red and one might assume because you were screaming the lyrics of Rihanna's S and M.

"You sure you don't wanna give it a go?" You grinned at Edward, offering the microphone. R

"Come on!"

"It'll be fun!"

"Pleaaaaase?"

"You don't have to," Macy reassures with an understanding look, as the instrumental of the last song begins.

... I mean, he might as well.

Upon reaching for the microphone, your friends began clapping and cheering. He isn't much of a singer but the way your friends hype up one another despite delivering an ear-piercing performance, they applaud to no end, so it does bring comfort to know that.

"I want your love and I want your revenge, you and me could write a bad romance!"

"WOAH OH OH OOOOOOH~~~" you and your friends sang along.

"I want your love and all your lover's revenge, you and me could write a bad romance!"

💚 After exiting the booth, the sights of the ride greets you once again, where it had Edward swallowing thickly when his eyes meet a Pirate ship ride filled with screaming attendants. Then there's a roller coaster, a big nope. Then there's the Ferris wheel, that's oddly fast instead of an idle spin, it resembled a human washing machine.

Then there's your friends, pointing at the said rides in excitement. This is where Edward has taken to hiding behind you again when your friends settled to ride the Pirate Ship. The ominous thing which swung back and fourth like a pendulum.

"Come on Edward, it'll be fun!" Lee encourages, lightly shaking him by his shoulders.

"I-I don't think I can—"

"If Y/N will ride, would you?"

Yes...

"Lee, don't force someone to do what they don't want to," Macy lightly scolds.

"You are riding, right Y/N?" Diedre asks, draping her arm around your shoulder and poking a finger in your cheek.

"Well yeah, sure why not?"

... well, suck it up, I guess.

"Dee," Macy glares at Diedre.

"I-I'll go." Edward blurts out.

"Are you sure?" You and Macy spoke in unison.

"Yes." No.

"Come on, I already bought tickets. Eddie's coming along, right?" Nina spoke from behind you after standing in line to get tickets.

"I am..."

"Are you sure?" You pulled him aside, clinging on his arm and looking deeply within his bespectacled gaze to search his reluctance, lo and behold, it was so fucking obvious.

"Y-Yes... Don't worry about me." Fucking. Help.

💚 With reassurances given to you and himself, he was strapped in his seat with you and Lee, who were seated on either side of him. White knuckling the metallic safety bar, he watches in horror as the seats were filled by other attendants and the sound of horns rings against his ears. Then, the ship started to swing and let me tell you, his stomach fucking dropped.

His first instinct was to screw his eyes shut and refused to let a sound from his throat. Behind him, he can hear Nina and Diedre cheering loudly, fucking egging the conductor to bring the ride at its fullest speed. Out of fear, he tucks his head against your neck and found his hand clutching your thigh. In all this terror, for a moment, felt him stabilizing when he felt you put a hand atop his...

Then, somehow, Nina and Diedre finally got what they want... Everyone boarding the ride who swore not to scream, screamed. Edward was a little thankful he wasn't the only one.

💚 Nina and Diedre were a touch disappointed when the ride came to end, but some others were rushing out of the ride and Edward was one of them. The ground seemingly swayed with every step and felt as though he had once again accidentally drank from the Mad Hatter's teacup. To lend him a sense of stability, you were once again by his side... Macy, being the concern mother hen she is, was also there. Whereareas Lee, Nina and Diedre were laughing about the experience... Not specifically Edward, but he was too disoriented to hear it.

"Oh my fucking, the girl behind me was screeching a church hymn." Diedre laughed, before nudging Nina. "You got that recorded, right?!"

"Sure did!" Nina holds her phone out.

"Oooh! I recorded too!" You looked over Lee, who possesses blackmail material with a glare.

"Who are you feeling?" Macy, not minding the noise behind her, has taken to seating Edward under a tree shaded bench. Rummaging through her back, she produces a zesty menthol essential oil before handing it to Edward. "Here, hold on to this for the time being. I'm going to get some water."

"Thank you..." Edward managed to croak as Macy turned away and make a beeline for the food stalls. Taking a light inhale from the uncapped bottle, he feels his nausea to lightly dissipate.

"I am so sorry about that..." Edward glances at you to find your apologetic face looking away.

"No, no, it's not your fault... It was my choice..." He weakly insists.

"Can I still make it up to you?" You looked up at him.

... Well if you're offering...

"Can I... Rest my head on your shoulder?" Edward chokes up for a moment, but felt a sense of comfort knowing you wouldn't say know.

Smiling, you tip your head aside your offer him your shoulder. Edward leans in and sighs in content, face flushing a deeper shade of red when you went an extra mile to wrap your arms around his torso. Unbeknownst to the both of you, certain cellphone welding friends were taking pictures.

💚 Upon feeling better, the whole group decided to stop by for some snacks, eat before going home. Edward had fun; he got to know more of you, the people you love, your interests, talents, befriended your friends, rode a dreaded ride... Cuddling up with you...

When he got home, he couldn't deny the smile on his face. He steps in his room, in the process of removing his jacket when he suddenly caught your scent. Stunned, he presses his nose on his jacket and breathes it in before he collapsed on his bed with a content sigh.

He was disrupted from his daydreams when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Curiously, he reaches for it and unlocks it, to find himself added to a group chat named 'Green Gang', the picture of the group being the photo you have taken after the damn ride... Lee, Diedre, Nina who looked as normal, while you, Macy and Edward were situated by the corner tending to him.

Lee: Hey :D

Lee: Just got home. I'll send some pics later (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

Nina sent 30 photos

Diedre: Damn, I have like 3 or 5 pics 😂

Nina sent 30 photos

Nina sent 30 photos

Nina sent 30 photos

Nina sent 10 videos

Diedre: 😳

Lee: RIP phone storage

Macy: Still on the train. Are you okay now, Edward?

Edward froze... He swallows thickly, before typing up a reply.

Edward: Just got home. I'm doing great, thank you for taking care of me.

Lee: That's Macy for ya (⁠~⁠￣⁠³⁠￣⁠)⁠~

Edward: That was actually a great time, thank you for inviting me.

Diedre: We won't traumatise you next time 😁

Nina: That would be Y/N's job lmao

Edward couldn't help but to chuckle.

Y/N: Gang and I are like going out for a fun photoshoot. Wanna come?

Well duh.

Edward: I'd love to.

Another date, pinned on his calendar. He is fucking winning in life.

[inhumanheresy]

❝ your work friends looked after us again ! one was really grumpy though . . not real nice . . but big brother is home again, so it doesn't matter, ❞ cue teucer hugging childe's arm after excitedly bounding on over to meet him after time apart.

Ajax laughs and ruffles his littlest brother’s hair with a rough tumble before leaning down to scoop Teucer into his arms. “Aww, did you miss me, malysh? It hasn’t been that long since you saw me in Liyue. Have you been behaving for Mama and Papa?”

He won’t see Papa during this visit, save perhaps in passing. Mama does a good job of pretending that The Incident never happened. However, their father still mourns the gentle and innocent child Ajax once was, the untried boy who sat bright-eyed at his knee listening to his stories, who had not yet tasted blood and true hardship, and Ajax wonders if part of his avoidance is also anchored in regret over taking his third son to the Fatui recruiters.

“Speaking of behaving, remember what I told you the first time you found one of my work friends, Teucer? You can’t let anyone know they work with me, ‘cause then everyone will want to talk with them and get them to show off all the cool toys, and they’d never get any research done!” Ajax bops his brother’s nose with a gentle fingertip. “And you wouldn’t want to keep them from making awesome new friends for Mister Cyclops, now would you?”

How on Teyvat Teucer had become observant enough to pick out the plainclothes Fatui he’d stationed to protect and keep watch over his family, he still doesn’t know. Damn, but those skills could make the kid a fine agent or marksman one day.

[the-ichor-king]

marksman OC expansion :3

Locke is a victorian-style steampunk marksman, also his name is a pun on ‘flintlock’ bcuz- well he’s centered around firearms- that’s like his whole character-

Word count: 515

Freakshow! AU belongs to @hootbon

TW: SVICIDE ATTEMPT MENTIONED UNDER CUT

Locke took a bow as the audience cheered and clapped, smiling widely (a red herring, of course) as they threw all sorts of gifts his way; flowers, confetti, bits and pieces of bones (he didn’t even want to think about where they got those from), and other things that Locke couldn’t identify as he was whisked away from the ring. He had managed to shoot each and every clay bird that was tossed high into the air without fail, and watched as the audience scrambled to snatch the shattered pieces as they rained down from the sky, eager to take home a souvenir from the show.

Locke hoped that Caine would think well of his performance this time; he spent hours practicing and training just to win some semblance of approval. But, as usual, Caine merely looked at him with contempt and disdain. Not good enough. His forced smile dropped, and he said nothing as he slipped past the newest member. Locke envied her clothing; neat, clean, and relatively untorn, save for a few rips here and there. The fabric was still vibrant, and looked out of place compared to the tattered, faded costumes everyone else wore. The living doll.

No more a doll than a shiny new toy for the ringmaster to play with until he broke it, Locke mused to himself. He wondered what piece of her the amalgamation would take for themself once she began to show signs of abstraction. The bow, perhaps. Maybe the skirt.

“Marksman.”

Locke’s head shot up; he had been lost in his thoughts once again. His gaze met the narrowed eyes of the ringmaster’s, scrutinizing each and every bit of him. Caine held out one hand expectantly.

“You know the new rule, marksman. Your shotgun. Give it here, please.” Caine said, not an ounce of emotion detectable in his voice.

Locke remembered the time Caine had caught him with his firearm pointed towards his head. Several rounds had been fired already, leaving gaping holes in his face (or lack thereof, he only possessed a mouth filled with jagged, sharp teeth). Caine was not happy to have to fix that issue, and now Locke was prohibited from having his gun outside of shows or practicing new performances.

Locke unceremoniously dumped the firearm into Caine’s outstretched hand, which disappeared with a snap of the ringmaster’s gloved fingers. He retreated backstage, climbing the rickety staircase up to the lower balcony where he watched Pomni’s ballet performance with indifference. In his honest opinion, it was amateur at best, but the audience clapped and cheered nonetheless. They’d probably still applaud for a dead skunk if Caine dressed it up. The thought made him smile, but only for a fleeting moment before he started frowning again.

Locke wondered how long it’d been since he first showed up, and how long it’d take before the twins tore him to shreds to prevent his inevitable abstraction. With the way things were going, it probably wouldn’t be much longer.

“Good,” Locke mumbled to no one in particular. “I can’t wait for this bull████ to be over.”

[twobuckhowie]

Guns Don't Kill People, Stupid Politicians Kill People

With more than 20 People Shot last night at an Alabama birthday party, with only four deaths, and Two Deaths, with four injured in Louisville, I thought this Post from February 26th, 2016 would help explain on how I feel about Gun Control. And don't tell me about the bullshit lies where "Guns don't kill people, people kill people."

This is playing right into the Republican's hand where they get richer and they have the poor killing each other over scraps so they can claim during election time that "We need more white supremacy type of cops to protect our streets so we can let them run wild and kill innocent civilians too! For a safer America!" Yes, it's my opinion. Yet here are some facts.

Anonymously Anonymous

Take A Test To Own A Gun

White supremacists and militias have infiltrated police ...

******* And when you thought people couldn't get any more ignorant, here comes the "Iowa Lawmakers, (Who) Approve Bill That Would Let Kids Have Handguns." By Kim Bellware for The Huffington Post.

I thought Texas had a bunch of Jackasses for Lawmakers, "Texas 'open carry' law passes, allowing guns in holsters on the street." The Guardian.

"Texas lawmakers approved carrying handguns openly on the streets of the nation’s second most populous state on Friday, sending the bill to the Republican governor, Greg Abbott, who is expected to sign it and reverse a ban dating to the post-civil war era."

I'm sure all the republican people living in Iowa were so upset by Texas beating them out on the "Open Carry Law," that the only thing they could think of to do, to be ahead of them in ignorance was to, "Give Guns To Children."

"Children of all ages in Iowa would be able to lay down their toy guns and pick up the real thing under a bill that passed the state House of Representatives. Statehouse Republicans, including the bill's sponsor, Rep. Jake Highfill, said the the legislation was an issue of parents' rights designed to correct "an injustice in Iowa code” that now forbids children 14 and younger from handling pistols. Allowing people to learn at a young age the respect that a gun commands is one of the most important things you can do,” Highfill told The Washington Post on Wednesday. The alternative, he said, is “turning 18 with no experience.”

If we only had a system in place that could teach someone how to handle a gun? I know that setting up Classes at a Firing Range with specially Professionally Trained Marksman to teach people, Under Age, how to handle a firearms would start a whole new industry. And who would train the Professionals Trainers? But we already have these moronic Laws in place with kids killing kids.

Couldn't the Law have specified, before a youth was allowed to have a pistol, even under parental supervision, they would have to have these Classes With A Professional and then be Certified before they got a gun?

If you ask me, most parents don't even know how to handle a gun. I knew a few grownups who carried guns and they didn't have a clue on the safety issues.

Some of them are in jail now and the other is dead from a self inflicted wound.

Stupid people think you can carry a gun in their belt instead of a holster.

I wouldn't want their children carrying guns around if they were taught by their parents who thought it was cool just to carry one!

If you are thinking of getting a gun, check these websites out and maybe we will have one less accidental shootings.

National Handgun Safety Course

or

Education & Training

This is,

Raised In A Family That Respected Guns - And If Anyone - In Our Family - Older Than I - Saw That I Was Playing With Or Disrespecting A Gun - They Had The Right To Whip My Ass - Then Tell My Dad So He Could Whip My Ass Too

Jim Hauenstein

And

“The fascination of shooting as a sport depends almost wholly on whether you are at the right or wrong end of the gun.” - P.G -

That is my story and I am sticking to it!

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I would love to hear from you

Thanks for reading

Be kind to everyone

I'll be seeing you

[carbonateddelusion]

you should be clinically insane about them

I'M JUS!!! I made the mistake of putting on the lovebirds' playlist while I was showering, and I associate a lot of Glass Animals'(s?) songs with their relationship at the beginning and when it starts to deteriorate; so, when "Pools" came on, I was immediately put into animatic mood. like!! the chorus!!!

Shake my little soul for you now, toy

And I settle up into a world of noise

I’m a man of many tricks and tools and joy

With a battery of guilt on which to poise

obviously!! this would be sung by Jack. he knows that Eddie's absolutely enraptured by him. he finds it very endearing but most of all entertaining. he "settle[s] up into a world of noise" by taking his boyfriend by the hand and dragging him into his world of crime and superficial and carnal wants. he uses his tricks and tools, his charm, to lull him into a sense of security, fully intending to wring out as much fun as he can out of him before disposing of him in one way or another. and then he finds himself starting to actually feel guilty. he's getting attached. and... he doesn't want him to leave. he doesn't want the fun to be over. Edgar knows too much about him to be let free, but he can't make himself kill him. things start getting worse. he gets more possessive. the charm drops.

and then, later on, those tricks and tools turn into REAL tricks and tools- knives. screwdrivers. guns. he's actually a pretty decent marksman. and he knows how to overwhelm and confuse people. and it becomes a different kind of fun for him.

[fallenangels1987]

i think its interesting that mackays run is toying with the idea of marc being a bullet considering we've seen that before during ellis's run. "guns arent supposed to come back and punish their owners," he says, but isnt that what marc is doing now? hes a gun whos desisted from its marksman.

theres a lot more you can read into here with "the distant projection of death is power" and how khonshu wanted power during age of khonshu and how he exerts his control over marc by keeping him under the threat of death wherein only khonshu can save him but im simply too seepytired to go any further in depth. you willjust have to trust me ok?

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 59 }

what it feels like to surprise him.

vincent fabron (CHAMBER) x fem.reader

to say chamber was pissed would be a complete understatement-

just what gave you the right to blatantly ignore him for so long??

granted, he had been quite busy with his missions and designing some new weapons, but he always made sure to free up his schedule in order to spend time with you.

so why was it when he entered the comfort of your shared room, you were nowhere to be found?

why did it seem like each time he made plans to take you out somewhere, you would always reply back by stating how busy you were before darting out of his embrace?

and the nights, oh, those long nights when he would come home from a grueling mission would be the worst. he wanted nothing more than to hold you, but you would already be sound asleep, making chamber feel guilty at the thought of waking you.

just what was going on? what was making you become so distant with him?

were you cheating on him? had you really managed to find someone better than him?

more often than not, chamber would scoff at such ridiculous thoughts, for who could ever possibly match up to him? he was the full package. rich, devastatingly handsome, and vastly intelligent.

yet sometimes, his insecurities would ultimately win, filling him with an almost indescribable despair.

was there someone out there who could give you the things that he couldn't?

was there someone out there who was willing to dedicate more of their time to you?

was there someone out there who didn't have such a checkered past like him?

yet even with all these questions circling around his mind, chamber didn't think he'd be strong enough to let you go easily-

at least, not without a fight.

today had been pretty uneventful at protocol, and his mind was so distracted with thoughts of your possible betrayal. millions of scenarios ran through his mind of what he should do when it came to saving your relationship. his footsteps echoed throughout the marble flooring of his mansion, and while he worked on loosening his tie, he was almost stunned on the spot upon hearing the sounds of your giggles.

"oh jacques, i love you so much! you're so cute!"

red hot anger was felt coursing through him when he marches toward the living room, following the sounds of your laughter. you had never once called him cute, and it had been so long since he last heard your declaration of love for him-

and you had the nerve to invite another man into his home?! oh, he was going to teach that poor man a lesson, ready to inflict an enormous amount of damage to the prick that had stolen your heart with his tour de force if he had to.

with his fists clenched, chamber pushes up his glasses back on to the bridge of his nose, ready to rip whoever this jacques was away from you. so when he finally steps into his living room, ready to confront you and your new lover, he ends up feeling all of his anger melt away upon facing what was actually in front of him.

in your arms had to be the most adorable toy poodle with a dark blue and gold ribbon wrapped around its neck. his curls of fur were off white in color as his dark, puppy dog eyes were looking at chamber in absolute and unconditional adoration. the toy poodle lets out a series of energetic barks before launching himself out of your arms and runs across the room to reach chamber.

immediately, the french marksman softens at the sight of such an adorable puppy. he kneels down so that the puppy could reach him, allowing him to settle against his expensive dress pants. chamber could feel his claws dig into the front of his shirt as the excited puppy gave him a series of wet kisses.

"ah, i assume that this is jacques, mon amour?"

you nod, standing back to your full height to join them. "yes, and i'm sorry for being so distant these past couple of weeks, but i wanted so badly to surprise you with jacques."

he chuckles richly, embracing jacques while beckoning you to come closer. you follow his directions and settle yourself on his lap with jacques pressed excitedly between both of your forms. he brings you closer, pressing his lips against your temple all while admitting, "i was so afraid you had found someone new. in fact, i was this close to using tour de force had jacques turned out to be another man."

"vincent! that's awful, i would never find another man!"

he laughs once more, grabbing a hold of your chin to press a lingering kiss against your lips, "i know i know, mon cœur. now that i know better, i promise you, you have my complete trust. just please, swear to me that you will not reject my affections for so long anymore. i hated such unnatural silence, my love."

you giggle and nuzzle the tip of your nose with his all while petting jacques, "i promise, vincent. never again will that happen. i was just so afraid that i would ruin the surprise if i spoke to you."

he grunts, "i'd rather you ruin the surprise and have your affections at all times, mon amour."

chamber surges forward, capturing your lips in yet another bruising kiss before gently biting down against your bottom lip, earning a gasp from you when you feel him whisper, "now, i believe you owe me the privledge to make up for some lost time, mon cheri."

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[heli0s-writes]

Sharks in the Water*

Summary: He’s some kind of expert, all right. Marksman, combatant, tactician. Liar, lover, loaded gun.

A/n: Billy Russo/Reader 2.1k words of comparing Billy to dangerous animals lol. Explicit smut, suspense(?), questionable morals. Dirty talk. Soft!dark. Virginity kink? But no real virgins were involved in the making of this filth. 18+ only please.

With Russo, there’s no room for slip ups.

He’s a viper in a jewelry box and if you’re distracted for even a second, he’ll drop you where you stand.

He’s your mission.

Fury doesn’t trust Anvil. Doesn’t trust their methods, doesn’t trust the abrupt crop of their success, doesn’t trust Russo as far as he can throw him.

When you thumb through the file, studying the lines of his boyish face beset with the eyes of a man who’s seen too much war, a small warning light flickers awake. Just a quick brush to the edge of your better judgement.

Combat vets own one of two expressions: a vacant, haunted stare, or a steely, hardened one. Like death touched them and couldn’t take them. Like nothing short of their own gun could.

Russo’s eyes are black. And bright. And the warning light in the back of your brain stays on.

-

It’s a full-blown evac alarm soon enough.

Maybe it’s how killers recognize each other. Preternaturally sensing your own kind before any proper introduction.

He steps behind you in line for coffee and the air around him shifts. He buys your cup, speaking over your head to the young boy at the counter, and suddenly the lure you’re casting out feels like it could come back with your own meat on the hook.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You duck your head, playing timid. Roll over. Belly up.

“I didn’t have to,” he smiles before leaning in, his slender frame bowing your way, your drink just slightly out of reach. “But if I see you tomorrow, I might do it again.”

It’s a come-on like a threat, and you realize with Russo, anything could be a threat.

-

He gets his hands on you by the second date.

He touches up your thigh, preening when you shiver. He’s got these outrageously long fingers. Slim and painterly, yet powerful. Every part apex predator with the disturbingly serene face of a stained-glass angel.

He’s a showoff, too. Knows exactly what he looks like at your side with a smirk, daring the bartender to check you out. Knows what you look like when he sits by a table full of women one tequila shot away from throwing themselves at him.

He’d feed your ego all night if it meant that by the time you’d fall into his bed, you’d be full of confidence—maybe indebted to him for getting you there.

He’s gorgeous, after all. You’d be so lucky.

You think he’s less interested in the chase before sex than the one that follows it. Russo’s the kind of unbalanced that toys with emotions and psyches. Finds all the ways he could break a person to small pieces. He wants to make someone addled by him, dependent on him, addicted to him.

Either way, the chase is full tilt now.

-

The fourth date happens and he’s cutting a piece of bleeding, rare steak when he says, “So, you’re a virgin.”

You spit up your drink a little and if it weren’t just you and him at the table, you’d believe he was addressing someone else. He’s unaffected as anything, forking the meat and placing it carefully into his mouth.

“I’m not,” you protest.

A quiet laugh passes between his teeth, “You’re a bad liar, but it’s okay.” He looks up at you with big, compassionate eyes. “Everyone’s different. And hey, now that we’ve got it out of the way.” He shrugs, dismissive. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

You stab your salad, “It’s just— it just hasn’t happened yet—I was a late bloomer, alright?”

Russo dabs at his chin thoughtfully. “Mmm,” he hums, “I wish I had that problem.”

He returns to his plate and tucks into it, washing down the meal with red wine, an empty second glass dusting his pale cheeks with color. He’s smiling at you past the rim, watching how you squirm in your seat.

Wet lips quirk. “Asking for a friend, if it were to happen...”

“I’m not waiting for marriage or anything.”

“Then,” each word is slow and methodical, “what are you waiting for?”

You meet his challenge with a defiant glare, and his left brow jumps in surprise and excitement.

“Just for dinner to be over.”

There’s blood on his steak knife when he puts it down, raising a finger toward the waiter, and calls for the check.

-

It’s outrageous how handsome he is. How he’s learned to work the skin of his face into hiding all those serrated teeth.

He backs you into the wall, crowding you until you’re craning your neck up at him. His hands are at your sides, thumbing circles over your hipbones. One knee makes a suggestion between your legs, and you gradually open up, breath hitching, taking in the scent of his expensive cologne, his silky pomade, his increasing arousal.

“I’ll make it good,” he promises. “I know what it’s like when it’s not good. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

He dotes at the side of your neck, your shoulder, gentle like pressing careful kisses to a newborn baby. You feel the urge to say something, maybe profess what you’ve done before with others. The term virgin is fast and loose these days, but it’s not like Russo really gives a shit. He’s just working it, working you, taking what you say and making it fit best for him.

When he undresses, you’re not surprised to find that he’s pretty everywhere.

A whole host of old scars run through the sleek ripple of his pale muscles but he wears them proudly like embellishments. You drag your fingers up his forearm, then stomach, then chest. You touch a barely-there web high on his shoulder.

You joke, “Got a few of these myself. Fell off my bike a lot as a kid.”

His eyes go dark, lids dropping to half-mast. The corner of his mouth jerks into a vicious expression that pries his face apart. It’s chilling and almost grotesque. He ricochets from Renaissance cherub to absurdist nightmare— then, just like that, it’s gone.

“Yeah,” he grins, good as new. “Me too.”

Then, the lies blur a little, your world spinning on its head in lazy pleasure.

He’s some kind of expert, all right. Marksman, combatant, tactician. Liar, lover, loaded gun.

Even how he rolls on a condom is a masterful performance. Long fingers dance gracefully along his erection, stretching rubber over the swollen tip of his cockhead, straining around his throbbing shaft.

He tugs off your clothes, lays you down in bed, licking into your mouth soft and sweet and agonizing.

He’s attentive and generous, coaxing shudders out of every single nerve you own, lighting you up like a bonfire celebration. He leaves spit-shiny marks across your chest and thighs, kneads your arms and legs and loosens you up until you beg.

“Billy.” You scrabble pathetically at his back. “Billy, please don’t tease me.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” He watches you with hungry, wet lips, with his tongue flicking out and tasting the air. You’re exposed and vulnerable, he looks ready to strike.

He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t try to soothe or comfort or even lie. He simply presses a finger inside of you, feels you drip down to his knuckles, and then presses in another. His forehead touches yours for a second, the tip of his cock flirtatious on your slit, and then he’s driving his way in, swallowing up the wounded noises you make.

“There,” is all he says as you tremble and tremble. “I’ve got you.”

His hips roll on, dragging the hard line of his cock at a new angle, the pressure inside you growing wild with each thrust. You reply with awkward effort, rhythmless, hysterical motions, unsure what to do with your hands, embarrassed at how slick it is between your thighs.

Russo doesn’t seem to mind, finding it charming, even, as he kisses along your collarbones and jaw and cheek. He purrs, “You like that? Waited forever for it and now look at how wet you are.”

Then, he moves, puts you on your knees, your face into the pillow because it’s always about control and you can’t forget that.

He commands, “Stay.”

One hand slips around your neck, holding your throat like a manacle, not squeezing, just resting. Just enough weight to make its presence known and you feel him staring a hole into the back of your head.

This is it—sell it or sink. It’s easy enough because Russo fits inside you like he’s always belonged there, like he could be there forever. You’re fluttering around him, squeezing his cock, your body asking for more and more and more.

“Oh, hell yes,” he groans, “Yes, that’s it baby, fuck, you want it bad. Need it real fucking bad.”

You bite your lip, tense up each limb, release, and cry out.

His pace increasingly approaches erratic, his endlessly calm breathing punched out. His elbows touch down, folding himself over you, pulling you into his chest in a closing snare.

“Could have been doing this the whole time if you just said so. All you needed was someone to teach you how to take it. And now look at you…” His teeth scrape your ear, breath hot and menacing. He bites at your shoulders and the tops of your arms. “You’re fucking high on it, taking cock exactly how you were made to.”

You hide your face, “That’s not…”

“Can’t lie to me, baby. Can’t lie to me when you’re slobbering like that. Not when you’re dripping down my fucking cock. Shit, after this, I’ll make you want it all the goddamn time.”

His thrusts are getting meaner and meaner, bottoming out, his balls slapping against you with every hit. Everything is numb and far away, slipping out of your reach. The only thing left is his weight all around you, the blood in your ears ringing like an alarm going off.

This is it—you fist the sheets until you hear them scream— sobbing his name.

He murmurs again, husky and low and close to heartfelt. “I’ve got you.”

And you think— coming apart at the seams, sharp white peeling back the edges of your vision, clawing down his shoulders and arms and leaving your marks on him in retaliation— no, Billy, I’ve got you.

-

“Wow,” you gasp at the ceiling.

“Was it a passable first time? Don’t know what I’d do if I ruined sex for you.” He’s grinning from ear to ear, smug in every fine crease of his face still vibrant with afterglow.

You sigh, pulling the sheet up, burrowing into the mattress and taking stock of your aching body.

“It was… wow. Passable is… really selling yourself short. I’ve heard some weird first-time shit. Really awkward stuff. Something involving olive oil and a sandwich bag?”

He scoffs out a disgusted noise, moving closer to taste the sweat on your neck, nipping at your swollen lips until you moan again. The room turns dusky when he rises up off his elbows, blocking out the warm lamplight until it’s cold blue all around.

“You mean it?” He’s almost petulant now, tugging more hungry, childlike cruelties over your new bruises.

But it all depends, Billy, on which part is the lie. It was a good first time—with him. He made you want him, made you need him, made you come so hard you almost forgot for a second that you’re just as fucked up as he is.

That there’s something wrong with you the same way there’s something wrong with him because that’s how killers are.

They’re either made by nature or by shitty circumstance. Something fucked the human out of you same way something fucked the human out of him. Turned you into a living war zone long before you set foot on any concrete battlefield—and now here you both are: predators and soldiers to your core on one mission or another. Just two dead-eyed sharks circling, waiting for the other to breach.

If you break before he does, even Fury might have trouble angling you out.

Russo’s trigger finger on your waist is loose and relaxed. Entire body easy, but he noses along the slope of your jaw, inhaling, lips brushing dangerously over the rhythm of your pulse like scenting a trail of fresh blood.

“You wouldn’t lie to me about something like that, would you?”

He’ll have to keep chasing; you won’t let him catch up.

You laugh, reaching for him, letting your heart rate even out. You nuzzle into his hand, into his knuckles, into all the horror they’ve inflicted on some other prey.

“Billy,” you say, taking his trigger finger into your mouth, letting it point toward the base of your skull in a show of surrender. Roll over. Belly up. Don’t slip. “You know I’m a bad liar.”

[shimmerbeasts]

It was never fun getting a bullet out. Jinx knew that from experience. As skilled as she was as a gunman, even she had the occasional situation where she would get shot. As Silco shifted around in discomfort, grunting and hand clenching, Jinx caressed the wounded shoulder with her thumb as she kept holding it still. A soft humming melody, she had just made up, escaped her lips, followed by the occasional: "Easy, Papa, easy."

The pipette made little squishing noises, blood bubbling up from the wound and running down the prongs as Jinx continued to poke and prod for the bullet. While her sapphire-blue eyes stayed locked on the wound, she did listen attentively to what Silco had to say. Every word he spoke was treated like it was a diamond, dragged out from the dirt. Immensely valuable and to be treasured and examined later. As much as Jinx liked to complain about all those hard-worn lessons, she took them more to heart than she wanted to admit.

"Well, as you tend to say:" - Jinx purposefully lowered her voice a bit as she imitated Silco, sharp accent, cool cadenza and everything - "I've been there. I know how you feel, Jinx." Her voice switched back to normal. "The greenhorns and newbies... They do not have that. They grow up with food in their bellies and full purses. They act more like Pilties than Zaunites. Stupid softmouths." She wrinkled her nose. Vi had sometimes used that insult around Piltovans. Powder had never really gotten what exactly it meant.

With the bullet out of Silco's shoulder and thoroughly toyed with and tasted, Jinx wanted to examine the corpse for any clues as soon as Silco remarked how the culprit would have nowhere to hide, especially given that they were from the Undercity. Even now, Jinx felt the urge to be a few steps ahead on the task list without Silco needing to ask her for it. She loved doing that. Loved surprising him with a fresh kill of someone, he had needed to get rid of anyway before he even got to the point of making preparations.

However before Jinx even could slip off the desk, Silco addressed her again and she froze up. The bullet, she had toyed with, lost its interest and Jinx simply put it into her little pouch on her utility belt. She picked up one of her braids and pulled at it, looking at her reflection in the hair clippings, she had made out of the bullet casing of the first handful of bullets, Silco had ever gifted her. Janna, that had been years ago.

"I know", Jinx said sadly, "I know I am a good marksman. But I still jinxed it. I still wasn't there on time. You trust me to keep you safe, Silco. That's why you are so lax with your bodyguards. Because you trust me to be always nearby. They still shot you. They still managed to injure you. I shouldn't have let that happen. I am supposed to be there to prevent that from happening! You gave me one job and I still messed it up."

Over the years Silco have perfected the art of getting his point across with non verbal communication. It was the the way his eyes stared so intensely, which occurred so often without much effort on his part. His mismatched eyes always burned with such intensity. It was also the way his lips twitched every which way depending on if he was angry, dissatisfied, pleased with himself, or just the small tug of a smile only Jinx could get out of him. Even posture was a good indication to go by.

No one perhaps knew this more than Jinx. One look and she knew, grabbed the pipette from his hand. He, however didn't respond to her, deciding it was best to let explain everything. Better to hear her voice ring through to give him something to focus on instead of the pain in his shoulder.

Silco had always enjoyed Jinx's ramblings, anyhow. Found them comforting in many ways, but especially when she was passionate or excited. How quickly her emotions shifted, impacted by carefully constructed words.

As careful as she was being, Silco did shift uncomfortably in his seat, followed by a grunt as the pipette was maneuvered under his skin. He clenched his teeth, clenched a fist... It wasn't the first time he'd been shot in the past, however it wasn't fun getting the bullet out. However, temporary it was.

"This generation has no sense of respect, no sense of loyalty. So quick to betray when they think they've got a better deal. Save for you, Dear Jinx. I can always trust you to be at my side without question." Silco once more grunted, a little louder this time, through clenched teeth as the bullet was pulled out.

"Those who betrayed me will dealt with, just as I intend to find out who sent the assassin. But first I want to hear them explain themselves. If their answers do not satisfy me, you can even do what you will with them. I have no need for the untrustworthy in my ranks."

Silco watched with intrigue as Jinx swished the bullet around her mouth. Her antics never surprised him. It was apart of her charm and he'd have her no other way.

"If they are from the undercity they have nowhere to hide. It's only a matter of time before we find the culprit." He completely shifted his attention to Jinx, now that he no longer had to worry about a bullet in his shoulder. "You still have so little faith in yourself, Jinx. You do not see how strong you are, do you? How perfect you are."

[babygirl-diaz]

State Fair

Bucky picked up the toy gun and aimed it at the balloons shooting each one of them with accuracy. When he was done, he noticed everyone around him watching him with their mouths agape.

"So what did I win?" He asked the stall owner

"Huh?" The man blinked at him. "Oh right!" He turned around and left and then came back with the largest teddy bear Bucky had seen in his life. It was a brown bear that was at least 5 feet 5 inches tall.

The stall owner handed it to Bucky and Bucky stared at it like it had personally offended him before putting it in Sam's arms.

"Oh no. Hell no. I am not carrying this monstrosity!" Sam groaned and tried to give it back to Bucky who refused to take it.

"I won it for you!" said Bucky

"You cheated!" Sam accused and tried to find a good way to hold the giant teddy bear.

"How did I cheat?"

"You're an excellent marksman and a former assassin! You have the unfair advantage over those 13 year-olds who were trying to impress their date." Sam replied

"I wanted to impress my date!" Bucky huffed. "Are you impressed?" He added scratching the back of his head like an awkward teenager.

Sam watched him for a few moments before sighing, "I am a simple guy, so unfortunately, yes, I am impressed."

A grin spread across Bucky's lips and he leaned in to kiss Sam only to end up with mouthful of fur instead.

"Hey!" Bucky complained, wiping his lips with the back of his hand when he realized he had kissed the teddy bear instead.

"What? You don't like kissing Joey?" Sam laughed.

"You named it Joey?"

"He's mine so I get to name him whatever I want." Sam replied and held the teddy bear close to his chest, proudly carrying it around the fair.