#also this is. from june last year LMAO . | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jen-with-a-pen · 1 year ago

Text

F O X ＨＵＮＴ

summary: Not only has HYDRA executed their infiltration on S.H.I.E.L.D., but they have also reclaimed their finest weapon. Your safety isn't the only thing that's compromised.

pairings: WS!Beefy!Bucky Barnes x F!Avenger!Reader

word count: 6.1k

warnings: chasing, being hunted down, implied n0n-con elements, canon-level violence, cursing, implied t0rture, blood, beat1ngs, forced nud1ty, language, HYDRA-level cruelty, Bucky gets Brainwashed (again), there's Steve x Reader if you squint REALLY REALLY hard

read here on ao3!

a/n: This was inspired by last year's Whumptober Day 2: NOWHERE TO RUN - CORNERED, CAGED AND CONFRONTATION. I know it's February JUNE, but shit came up and my motivation tanked lmao thanks adhd med trials Literally have never done a dark(er?) fic before and this one has been cooking for god knows how fucking long now. I hope y'all like it <3 (also the hydra victory au is something i discovered from the lovely @lunarbuck reset series and stewed obsessively over for literal months now. still obsessed with it whoops)

dividers by @firefly-graphics | gif by @lost-shoe | @hydravictrix

my ao3 | my masterlist

Translations

Lisitsa | лисица - fox/little fox

Soldat | солдат - soldier

Syuda | сюда - over here

Khitraya suka | хитрая сука - sly bitch

Moy priz | мой приз - my prize

Glupaya pizda | глупая пизда - stupid cunt

Moye | мое - mine

The infiltration was subtle at the start.

A few missions gone mysteriously wrong, agents killed in action or disappearing entirely, hacks that were, thankfully, contained within an inch of a full-blown data breach. All of it seemed so coincidental when it happened, swept under the rug each and every single time before Director Fury could have a swear-filled say as to what the hell was going on.

But hindsight is 20/20. It always is.

The day S.H.I.E.L.D. fell was, ironically, the perfect day: brilliant sunshine, clear blue skies, a breeze weaving between the towering buildings and skyscrapers. It was almost eerie, in a way, how perfect of a day it was.

You found yourself in the gym, Steve and Sam hashing it out on whose turn it was in sparring. You had all but knocked Sam out cold in the previous round as Steve watched from behind the ropes, cheering you on with a cocky, proud grin as he watched all of his hard work in your training pay off.

Of course, the stubborn ass he was, Sam wanted another go.

“C’mon, Steve! I wanna rematch!” Sam protested, gesturing wildly in your direction with one hand while his other held an ice pack to his bruised temple. Steve stifled a laugh, tossing a glance over his shoulder to you. You shook your head, smiling back as you gulped down the rest of your water bottle. Cool strands spilled out from the corners of your lips and down your chest. You welcomed the relief from the sweat gluing your t-shirt to your skin.

“How ‘bout I take Steve instead of giving you another concussion?” you retorted, giggling as Sam shot a narrow look at you. He huffed, forfeiting his argument by waving a dismissive hand.

“Fine, ’m gonna go find some pain meds,” he grumbled, turning to point a swollen finger at Steve. “I better see you in the infirmary next, Cap.”

He stomped off through the metal doors and left the two of you in silence.

“Whaddya say, sweetheart? You up for round two?” Steve teased, stepping under the ropes and into the ring. He wrapped his hands as he moved to the center, muscle memory carrying him while keeping his eager gaze on you. His eyes carried excitement as they journeyed up and down your figure, rolling his lip between his teeth as he drank you with his stare.

You did little to hide your pride at the Captain checking you out, chewing the corner of your cheek to tame your own smirk at the beautiful blond. You turned away, hiding the heat from your cheeks as you tossed your bottle at your bag. You weaved under the ropes, coming face to face with your willing opponent in the center. You lifted your chin to meet his, the hidden smirk on your lips growing into a grin.

“With you? Always, old man,” you purred. You tossed him a teasing wink as you positioned your fists in front of you, feet planted firmly in the starting stance. Steve lingered on you for a second longer, tongue swiping across his lips hungrily as he cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, raising his hands to mirror you.

The two of you began to circle one another, dancing in a familiar pattern you knew by heart. Steve took his first swipe at you and you ducked, managing a hit to his stomach. A grunt escaped from him– not of hurt but of thrill. He lunged for you as you dodged again, blocking his failed strike to your head.

“Wow! You really can’t teach an old dog new tricks!” you taunted, dodging another blow, his wrapped fist only grazing your shoulder. You rolled it back, holding back a slight wince as you continued the violent waltz.

You lunged at him, instead faltering and falling to the ground. Readying the curse on your tongue, it stopped short of your lips as you looked up at Steve.

He stood frozen in place, panting, fists at his sides clenching tighter and tighter. As you opened your mouth to unload even more cursing questions, screeching erupted from the loudspeakers around the room. High-pitched tones screaming above, a robotic voice speaking clinically and quickly. You scrambled off the floor, unease creeping in as you latched onto Steve’s arm, his arm tensing under your touch.

CODE WHITE. CODE SILVER. ALL SECURITY AND TEAM UNITS URGENTLY NEEDED. 40th FLOOR. THREAT IS ACTIVE AND HIGHLY DANGEROUS. REPEAT. CODE WHITE. CODE SILVER. ALL SECURITY AND TEAM UNITS–

The message had cut out, static replacing it alongside the echoing alarms throughout the hallways outside the gym. You looked up at Steve. Anxiety surged upon finding his face devoid of all blood, his jaw slack, eyes boring into the metal doors leading to the hallway. He looked scared.

You’d never seen Steve scared before.

“Steve, what the fuck was that–”

“Get to the locker rooms and hide,” he ordered. He pulled his arm from you, jumping over the ropes and sprinting to his duffel bag on the floor. He pulled out his phone and dialed frantically as he ran to the doors.

“Steve!” You stood trembling in the ring as your stomach churned.

“Now!” he yelled. “I’ll come back for you!”

He didn’t wait to hear your response as he slammed the gym doors shut, followed by a whir and click.

He locked you in.

You didn’t– couldn’t– hesitate as a surge of urgency overtook you. You needed to hide. Now. Fast.

Your legs carried you as you jumped out of the ring and raced to grab your duffel bag, sprinting to the back of the gym through another set of double doors. You wove through the tiled maze of the locker room searching for some sort of hiding spot, settling on the showers. You snuck over to the stall at the very end, the closest one to the emergency exit, and ducked under the opaque plastic curtain. Your bag fell to the floor as you climbed onto the stall seat. Blood pumped in your ears, thumping as quickly as your shaky, shallow breathing. Millions of thoughts and questions and worries rushed through your mind at impossible speeds.

White and Silver. Which alert was that for?

You racked through fleeting memories, distant recollections of training and orientation from months ago, searching for anything remotely familiar. You remembered all of the other codes– red, orange, teal– but no white, no silver.

A faint buzzing sounded from inside your duffel. You lunged, unzipping it and fishing out your phone. Natasha. Her name lit up the screen and you frantically hit the answer key before the call could even think about dropping.

“Where the fuck are you?” Her panicked voice hissed into your ear. Her edged tone was enough to make your stomach backflip faster.

“Locker rooms, forty-fifth floor. What the fuck is going on, Nat?” Your voice shook as anger and confusion boiled in your blood.

A muffled swear. “Where’s Steve?”

“He ran out, locked me in, told me to hide.” More incoherent curses.

“Fuck, fuck, okay, look, trust me on this, you need to stay where you are, okay? I can get you out, I–”

High-pitched ringing overtook the speaker, sending you reeling away from the receiver. Static echoed out of the speakers.

“You what? Natasha!”

“No– time– you–”

“Natasha! Hello?”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

You tore the phone away from your ear and choked back the bile rising in your throat. Service was out. The blinking bars at the top of the screen mocked you and your sudden plunge into isolation.

The lights went next.

The dull fluorescents flickered. Someone cut the electricity, sending you into almost darkness as the backup generator lights kicked on. Scattered lights from above cast an eerie yellow glow over the shower tiles. You’d only seen this kind of outage happen once before, when New York was hit with Hurricane Noah a few years back.

The fear you felt in that storm paled in comparison to what you felt now.

You sighed, shaky and surrendering, and pulled your body closer to you on the shower bench. A chill snaked its way down your spine as your skin brushed the cool ceramic, an unwelcome addition to the cold already enveloping you. Your sweat-soaked t-shirt and shorts failed to aid you and your aching muscles. Fingernails dug into your kneecaps in a struggle to stop trembling as you tried to focus on your breathing. Inhaling, exhaling, in, out. Screwing your eyes shut, praying to any deity imaginable it was all just a drill, it was all an accident or a misunderstanding or–

The ground shook as a loud bang echoed from outside the locker room. A panicked yelp escaped your throat before your hands could scramble and cover your mouth. You froze as the tremors subsided and listened. It, or they, sounded close.

Too close.

Another BANG! Then another.

Rhythmic, steady blows, each quicker and more powerful than the last. Hands clamped tighter over your lips until your blood froze at the sounds of crushing steel and crumbling concrete. The lump in your throat grew as horrific realization flooded over you.

They, or it, broke in.

You couldn’t wrap your head around it– those doors were more fortified than Tony’s lab. Four-inch-thick, steel and plexiglass doors with a three-tier secured locking system. Nothing, nobody– not even the strongest Super Soldier– was powerful enough to make the faintest of dents in them.

Racing through who, or what, could have possibly broken into the gym, your train of thought derailed as echoes of men yelling indecipherable words and mixed commands shattered the remaining air of safety you clung to. Listening intently, a mix of combat boots and tactical gear filtered in with the echoed commands.

The S.T.R.I.K.E. Team.

Your legs begged for reprieve from crouching, but your body disobeyed and froze you in place. Part of you didn’t trust who was outside. Footsteps and gruff voices became heavier, closer. The relief that greeted you was replaced again by panic as you listened closer.

Clear, Russian commands resonated at the entrance to the locker rooms. They were coming in.

Your breath hitched, blood running cold as footsteps closed in. It was one person, but their steps didn’t sound like the heavy boots before them. They sounded more like…

Sneakers?

The rubber from the intruder’s shoes squeaked on the tiled floors. Ragged breathing echoed off the walls. A low growl, accompanied by quiet whirring. Someone big, someone mean.

Your heart made its way to your throat as the intruder inched closer. Slow, methodical, as if trained in search and rescue.

It didn’t feel like a rescue.

The lump almost turned into a scream as an echoed BANG carried from the bathroom stalls around the corner. Silence followed, then a growl, then another BANG. The cycle repeated for the remaining stalls, the intruder slowly creeping along. Growls became deeper upon each disappointment.

Hostages. They were looking for hostages.

Soles squeaked as the intruder changed course, stomping around the corner to search the line of shower stalls. You hiccuped a sob, realizing tears started to trail down your cheeks. Biting your palm only proved a lame attempt to calm your racing heart, a scream threatening to leave your throat as they began tearing the plastic curtains off the stalls. Each clang of metal cracking onto the tile became closer as you ground your teeth into the meat of your hand. Eyes screwed shut, silent prayers raced in your head, pleading to wake up; to wake up from this hellscape of a sick, twisted nightmare.

The intruder’s steps stopped.

Your eyes opened, widening at the blurred, hulking shadow standing outside of your stall. They had to be well over six feet. Towering, bulky, monstrous.

Slowly, the shadow’s hand reached for the curtain. One by one, its fingers closed around the plastic’s edge, preparing to rip it down and rip you open. Eyes burning, hot tears felt like molten metal as you attempted to make yourself as small as possible in your corner, huddling your knees as close as they could be. This was it. This was the end. You prayed– actually fucking prayed– hoping they couldn’t hear your pathetic whimpering, hoping they would make this quick, painless; break your neck or put a gun to your head and get it over with. Leave your body for someone else to find.

“Soldat, syuda!”

The command made your heart stop.

The shadow froze, stopped by a call from the entrance to the locker room. Skin met your teeth as you bit harder into your hand. Lungs began panicking as you started hyperventilating, bile reaching your throat and burning the back of your tongue.

The shadow, the monster, growled in protest. It retracted the curled hand from the curtain, wordlessly moving back towards the bathroom stalls. Footsteps faded as muffled conversation floated away from the locker room.

You needed to get the fuck out of there.

You slid off the bench, legs aching and knees popping as you crouched silently over to the curtain, peeking out behind the plastic. It crinkled quietly and you bit your lip, leaning out ever so slightly over the threshold.

Tiptoeing around the corner, you faced the emergency exit. The glowing sign omitted a creepy, green glow that added to the eeriness brought by the generator lights.

This was it.

You slammed the push bar down, throwing the door open with your body and spilling out into the hallway. Sunlight flashed through the infinite glass hallway, blinding you. In your frozen state, you hear commotion from behind the door as it slammed shut. Banging from the other side, the sound of metal on metal, made your teeth grind. Indents from punches dented the door, deforming its smooth outside. You didn’t stay frozen for long as your body screamed at you to fucking move, now.

Your legs obeyed immediately, carrying you through the corridor to the closest means of escape you could find. As you rounded the corner, the crushing sounds of the door breaking off of its hinges hit your ears. You didn’t dare to look back, sprinting through the twists and turns of the infinite hallway. You followed what felt familiar, burning muscles egged on by the sound of pounding footsteps getting closer and closer.

Finally, you stumbled onto the entrance to a stairwell, pausing to gasp for air your lungs demanded. The burn in your legs and chest only aided in the physiological need to hyperventilate. Sweat dripped from your temple and your head pounded as hard as your feet hitting the ground.

You leaned into the safety bar, inches away from further distancing yourself from whatever, whoever, was on your trail, when a yell erupted from the end of the hallway.

It felt like slow-motion; one of those scenes in those cheesy horror movies Sam always made you and Steve watch on weekends off. The ones with cheap FX, bad sound, but somehow great editing for the budget. The scenes where realization hits the main character and suddenly everything is half the speed while they still move in real time.

You turned your head towards the source. Then, it hit you. Blood drained from your face as the horror of realization hit you, like a speeding sixteen-wheeler head on.

Bucky Barnes stood hulking at the end of the hallway. Generator lights and setting sun illuminated his snarling teeth, gleaming from parted lips that had him panting like a rabid dog. If you hadn’t known better it would’ve looked like he was heading for the gym for his daily workout. Blown pupils, sweat-stuck hair, complimented by a shaking frame– most definitely caused by adrenaline, dopamine, and a slew of Gods-knew-what other drugs he had pumped into his system. Splotches of drying, smeared blood coated his neck and shirt while even more dripped onto the ground from his fists. The crimson contrasted with the medically white floors.

Bile rose in your throat again. The acidic taste made you dry heave at the sight of the blood, knowing from the looks of Bucky it definitely wasn’t his.

He snarled as your eyes finally met. Fists of flesh and metal flexed. Rippling muscles shook as he readied to launch forward.

“You’re mine, lisitsa!” he barked. His voice booming louder than the speed of sound, it made your ears ring.

Your throat finally opened. You screamed as he sprinted towards you, making more ground down the hallway than an apex predator out of hibernation. You shoved the exit door open, heaving your legs forward as you ascended the stairs. No choice but to go up, you refused to look back– nay you didn’t dare to even consider it. Muscles and tendons and joints burned, yearning for you to stop, but the door slamming from flights below you only pushed you harder, flying up and passing floor after floor.

You were fast, but he was faster.

Dizziness overtook you as your vision began to blur. Darkened edges of your peripherals made you stop your climb at level 50, pausing for a split second to hear Bucky’s progress. He was close behind, but you still had more of an advantage. You knew the Tower better than him. You knew level 50 had another stairwell on the opposite side of the floor, through another hallway off the corner of your current one. Sneakers pounded too close for comfort as you shoved the door open and made a break for it down another corridor labyrinth.

If you made it out of this alive, you swore you’d kill Tony’s architect yourself.

“You can’t hide forever, lisitsa!” Bucky’s voice rang out from the stairwell as you rounded the corner, sprinting through more identical-looking hallways. Another corner later and the glowing red EXIT sign appeared above the next stairwell. A beacon of hope, almost. Relieved, you head straight for it, body and mind and soul pushing against the burning and the gasping for air. You were right there, hand outstretched, fingertips grasping the metal bar–

It felt like a car crash.

Not an accident or fender bender. No, it felt like seventy miles an hour meets a tree with no intent of moving. That split-second feeling where your stomach drops and you can all but brace for the deadly impact destined for you to meet.

Time stopped as you were yanked backwards. Cold, slick metal wrapped around your ankle, bloody hand print smearing some poor bastard’s DNA all over your calf as your body fell to the ground. Hard. Your jaw clenched as your chin slammed into the linoleum. Teeth ground into your tongue as copper flooded your tastebuds. Your lungs, with little wind left in them, gasped for oxygen. Another scream rising in your throat became stuck in your vocal cords.

Bucky whipped you around as you struggled to free your lower half. You landed on your shoulder, head bouncing against the floor and teary eyes struggled to stay open and endure the pain. He straddled your form, the weight crashing down on your bones and organs. A sharp inhale impaled your chest as you met Bucky’s darkened eyes, then; the familiar steel blue replaced entirely with dilated, unhinged pupils.

It was the first time you got a good look at his face. His face is speckled with blood spatter and several bruises spread across his cheek down his neck. Two black eyes, a bloody nose– one you hoped was his– and a broken lip. The bloodied collar of his shirt only aided in the mess of his hair. His soft, chocolate strands stuck in mats to his neck and temples with sweat and blood.

Out of sheer habit, because he looked like your Bucky, you couldn’t help but reach a hand out to him. A soft plea for the man behind his eyes, one you begged everything holy was still there. He held your stare, face contorting into unrecognizable emotions. Tears brimmed your eyes as your hand stretched further, sobs escaping as your fingers inched closer and closer to his battered face.

“Bucky, it’s me–”

Your appeal transformed into a shriek, quickly snuffed out as Bucky wrapped his crimson-spattered metal hand around your throat. You choked, sputtering lost pleas as your hands flew to your neck. Fingernails flailed in futile attempts to claw off the weapons-grade titanium.

“You’re done running, khitraya suka,” Bucky’s hot breath fanned your face as he leaned in. His mouth grazed your jaw, titanium hand on your throat flexing with each syllable. He slowly made his way down your neck, pushing harder into your chest with his forearm. A heavy growl. His grip only tightened as you tried to knee him in the groin, picking you up by your neck and slamming you down again.

Stars circled your blurred vision, eyes rolling back into your head. The corridor, the lights, everything split into two.

“You owe me for my victory, lisitsa,” Bucky’s husky whisper resonated in your ear as he licked the side of your face, his hot, wet mouth against your tear-stained cheek. As his free hand moved to the waistband of your shorts, another surge of panic washed through you. You tried to sputter a weak cry from your closed-off throat, blood turning cold, another scream building and building in your chest and aching for release.

“You owe me what’s mine –!”

BANG!

Something from somewhere all of a sudden. The object slammed into Bucky, throwing him off of you and spilling across the floor.

Finally, your lungs lunged at the chance for air, leaving you a heaving, choking, coughing mess. Spitting at the ground as you made your way shakily to your hands and knees, a freed hand traveling to rub the fresh strangulation bruises forming on the column of your stiff neck.

“Get the fuck off her, Bucky!”

Steve.

As your vision cleared, the shield whizzed past you as it ricocheted back into Steve’s open arms. Bucky groaned, low and guttural, but only for a moment is he subdued. Slowly, he rose, like smoke from extinguished ashes, looking to his metal vice. A large dent adorned the weathered, bloodied appendage where his bicep met his shoulder. He then turned his attention to Steve, baring his teeth, anger coursing through him as he immediately disregarded you. His sights set on a new target, launching himself at Steve without a beat lost.

Steve grunted as Bucky’s metal fist met the vibranium shield with a deafening clang. Steve gritted his teeth and pushed back, managing to break Bucky’s attack and aim a kick for his stomach.

“Go! I got him!” Steve yelled to you through a gasp as Bucky countered with his own swipe at Steve’s middle. Your body stayed put, relishing in the ability to fucking breathe again, also painfully aware how screwed you’d be if you didn’t escape as you had the chance. You willed yourself to move, to run and to keep going, to no avail. As Steve landed a blow to Bucky, his eyes met yours once more. His baby blues, pained and tired, begged for you to listen to him for once in your life.

“Now!”

The strain in Steve’s voice seemed to ignite a fire underneath you. Pushing yourself up, you willed your legs to carry you to the exit. Bloody shoe prints tracked your route as you slammed through the doorway. You cursed, knowing they’ll give away which way you’d go, knowing your life matters more than a twenty-dollar pair of sneakers. Kicking them off, throwing the pair down the exit, praying they made it far enough Bucky wouldn’t know any better.

You threw yourself up the stars, tremors and pain afflicting every limb as the cold concrete seeped in through your socks in each step. The railing helped as you heaved yourself forward with help from the railing. Sweaty palms slipped on the bars, but your grip only grew tighter.

You didn’t know how you, or your body, was able to do it, making it up seven more flights of stairs before your knees buckled on level 57. Heaving the door open and slamming it shut, you stumbled out into the new hallway. You hadn’t visited that level before. Something Steve and the others– especially Doctor Banner– said was “just a business floor.”

The sign on the wall directing to ‘SAFELAB’ said otherwise. Nothing in the Tower was “just business.”

What you did know was that every SAFELAB on every floor was located in the same, far-east hallway.

Wiping the sweat from your temple, you turned right, jogging down the darkened, emptied-out hallway. It felt like the apocalypse. No sign of anybody else. Doors left ajar, papers and bags and other employee memorabilia scattered throughout abandoned offices and cubicles. You hoped everyone was able to make it out, at least.

Part of you didn’t hope for much, though.

The door to the lab came into view as you rounded the last corner. The door was still locked, the lab inside sterile and untouched. A sigh of relief escaped you. Holding your palm to the door’s scanner, it answered your prayers in a soft beep and whir, miraculously allowing you in.

You maneuvered through the multiple security doors, four in total, crouching low once you managed to slip into the lab itself. The gigantic window at the front of the labspace spared no room for you to hide easily, but you had zero room to complain about it. It was your only option, after all.

Well, besides the roof.

Crouched, you snuck your way around the counters and various equipment to one of the supply closets. The furthest corner from the entrance. You scoured through drawers and cupboards for some sort of weaponry; the most you could find was a new scalpel out of a box of extras.

You closed in on the supply closet, reaching up and grasping the handle, turning it slowly to prevent any squeaks from the inner hinge. A tear glided down your cheek in relief. You hadn’t realized you started crying. Again.

The door swung open. It greeted you mostly empty, deep enough for you to cram your body into. Crawling inside, bones and limbs contorted into the most comfortable position you could manage. You pinched the edges of the doors to close them as best as you can, accepting they, in fact, couldn’t close all the way from the inside. A curse under your breath, the sliver of dim light through the crack cast onto your face. Once settled, you crumpled your damp t-shirt up from the collar and shoved the fabric into your mouth. Teeth and tongue greeted sweaty cotton and hints of copper as you bit down on the collar, covering your mouth with a free hand.

At last, after Gods knew how long it had been since you ceased moving, a silenced sob heaved out of your chest. Tremors only worsened as your nervous system rode out the fumes of its adrenaline high and flight mode instincts. Hot tears spilled down your cheeks, mixing with snot further down your face, slipping down to your neck and leaving behind streaked paths in the bloodied, hand-printed bruises adorned on your flesh. The pain from the near-strangulation you suffered broke through the shock and endorphins that were keeping you sane until then. You knew, though, you couldn’t break down. Not yet. Not until you saw Natasha or Steve or someone you trusted face-to-face.

You started counting your breaths. Mind racing, thoughts traveling near sonic speeds through your mind carrying questions at how the hell it all happened.

You thought for sure S.H.I.E.L.D. was secure, especially after the ordeal with Bucky, Steve, and the whole ‘defeating HYDRA’ ordeal from a few years back. Hell, you thought it was safer than taking the FBI’s recon mission that was offered to you before being referred to Tony himself. Your mind raced, what-ifs and endless possibilities flashing across your eyes like a snuff film. You hoped Steve was okay. You hoped Natasha was on her way to your location any second. You hoped Sam was safe and made it out okay. You hoped Bucky –

Bucky.

Christ, you hadn’t even stopped to think about how the hell everything happened to him. He’d been doing so well in his recovery program. Steve was even telling you about it that same morning, bragging about how well Bucky was doing, how much progress he was making, how soon they’d finally be able to move in together once Doctor Banner cleared him. Another sob overtook you. How you’d never seen him like that before, the feeling of his titanium arm slowly crushing your windpipe, the weight of his entire body crushing your internal organs as he’d held you down. The things he’d said. You tried to wrap your head around what he’d said, what he was going to do–

Crashing followed by shattering glass emitted a muffled yelp from you as your blood ran cold. Another wave of tears flooded out of your burning eyes, chest heaving unevenly. Your hand clamped even tighter over your mouth as teeth bit into the salty fabric of your shirt, drying up any more moisture your mouth was grateful to finally have.

BANG! Then another. Then more in rapid succession. Shattering, crashing, shattering, silence. The final blow to the security doors sounded from inside the lab itself. Your breath hitched and bile began bubbling in your stomach, reaching the back of your throat and across your tongue. You forced yourself to swallow the acid, listening intently to the crunch of sneakers on shattered glass.

He’d found you.

“Lisitsaaa,” Bucky drawled, his voice dropped to a primally low octave. Lower than before. You almost couldn’t make out the words, a mixture of growled mumblings of English and Russian. Knees folded closer to your chest, you tightened your grip on the handle of the scalpel. Bucky’s footsteps were slow, methodical, predatorial.

His heavy steps inched closer, each followed by a pause, then sudden crashing of lab equipment and smashing of drawers. More glass and metal slammed to the ground and walls after each pause. He sounded feet away. Then inches.

Your breathing stopped as the sliver of light clouded over. The lump in your throat threatened more puke to rise as you dared to peer up through the crack, heart dropping like a dead weight to your stomach as your eyes fell on freshly bloodied sneakers. A stifled scream in your lungs choked you. You refused to think about whose blood that was.

Eyes darted back up. You could see Bucky’s blurred features clouded in shadows. The only light visible, then, was the glint from his wicked smile. Bloodied teeth shone as he licked his lips hungrily, a predator finally cornering its prey.

Ever so slowly he crouched, shoving his face closer into the seam in the door. Tears and snot continued to stream down your face, your body hyperventilating as you forced yourself to look into his eyes. There was nothing else you could do. Nothing else to say, to cry about. There was nowhere left to run. He got you.

“There you are, moy priz,” Bucky hissed before reaching through and throwing the doors open, heavy hands leaving imprints in the flimsy metal. Frozen, your fist was still closed around the scalpel, your muscles tensed as joints locked in place. His evil eyes scanned your body greedily, looking for which cut of meat to divulge in first. His gaze stopped at your fist and he chuckled, tisking in a disappointed tone.

“Oh, glupaya pizda,” Bucky shook his head, amused at your meager choice of weaponry. Compared to him, you might as well have been waving a white flag. His smile only grew, tongue jutting out to lick his lips. Specks of blood coated the sides of his cheeks and edges of his mouth, smeared about from ear to ear with the back of his hand.

“Come with me and they might consider your life, lisitsa–”

You sprung into him, swinging your arm, landing the scalpel into the middle of his flesh hand, impaling straight through it. In an instant, blood spewed from the impact. Bucky screamed out in pain, a slew of mixed language curses reverberating in your skull. You scrambled out of your hiding place, bashing him with a balled fist to the face as you tumbled out and onto your feet, sprinting to the lab’s only exit. Freedom was only an arm’s length away when an overturned stool tripped you. The impact didn’t hurt near as much as the millions of shattered glass bits shredded cut into your skin, your hands and knees and arms and face littered as blood smeared under you and across the once-sterile white floors. You cried out, writhing around. Battered and bloodied, struggling to rise and run again despite the searing pain in your ankle.

Before you could form your next thought, a rough hand snatched your scalp and dragged you up by your hair. You uttered a panicked scream as Bucky hoisted you to eye level, snarling like a rabid dog as he shook you hard.

“I thought you were smarter than that, lisitsa,” he sneered, “but I was wrong.”

He hurled you back onto the floor, his bloodied, titanium fist still gripping your hair, dragging you over to one of the disheveled lab tables. More glass shredded your skin, blood and sweat and tears mixing and pouring over your face and hands and body. With ease and a free hand, he swiped the rest of the contents off another counter; beakers and burners crashed to the floor. His grip tightened as he threw you up onto the stainless steel counter, the dead weight of your body banging onto the table, landing you hard on your back. Eardrums rang into your skull and jaw, radiating down your spine and out your limbs. Your hands slip against the smooth metal from the blood, futile attempts to grab onto something, anything. You groaned and huffed excess sobs. The pain, unbearable; the fear, unimaginable.

Bucky hoisted himself onto the table, landing on top of your broken body, his knee hitting your spine and knocking your last breath out of you. Straddling you, his thick thighs bulged through tattered sweatpants, squeezing into your rib cage. He looped another fist into your hair, raising your head and slamming it down. The side of your face smushed into the steel table, smearing around more blood as he did it again. And again. The cartilage in your nose cracked and throbbing pain radiated into your eyes, your skull. Warmth from the break and the blood poured over your face. The pain, dulling into numbness as you began to fade in and out of consciousness.

Your vision started to blur and blacken, stars and specks orbiting around Bucky like a halo of hallucination. Your body, finally surrendering to him. No fight left. Any strength you could have mustered, funneled into staying awake, proved useless.

A new sound, then: ripping.

You didn’t have to look to witness Bucky unrelentingly tear your t-shirt away from your body, training his eyes on your open form. Bruised skin exposed to cool air, your chest still momentarily held together by your sports bra. He made quick work of it next, the nylon snapping off in one swipe, sending goosebumps racing down your spine.

Ice-cold titanium fingers untangled from your matted hair and made their way from your nape, to the small of your back, to the waistband of your gym shorts. Muscles tensed as you felt each digit wrap almost leisurely onto the elastic. He tore them away swiftly, baring the rest of you and your skin to him. A growl, one of pleasure, vibrated into you from him, emitted he palmed the skin of your ass. His fingers journeyed languidly in a slow trail from your back to your core. You squirmed, wasting the last of your strength, a hopeless attempt to get away one last time.

A crack came across your face. Flesh against flesh, he slapped you. A punishment. A command for obedience. Your body fell limp. Breathing raggedly and gagging on blood and spit, you shuddered as he took your wrists and tied them together with your t-shirt.

Satisfied, his prey finally submitting, Bucky paused, panting as he leaned down to you. He wet his lips before speaking, gruff words slurred against your ringing eardrum. As he spoke, cold metal grazed your entrance, a threat of what was to come.

“Now, I get to take what’s mine.”

Your screams echoed as the world fell dark.

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toadallytickles · 6 months ago

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NEST 2024 + Gatherings Going Forward (again)

Attended my 4th NEST this year! This is just a quick point-form summary as I’m still dropping and wanted a write-up before I fly out this weekend to see my moms!

Perhaps I wore my “tickle me I’m cute!” shirt on Friday- and perhaps it got me pinned and gang tickled by 4 friends UGH- I haven’t been gang tickled since last June which is WILD honestly. Kinda hoping wishing this June it happens again 👀

Learning that it’s okay to let people touch me. 🙄😒 From my past writing “AUNT 2024 + Gatherings Going Forward,” I shared that I’ve denied myself from playing with friends until everything felt perfect, but recognized that I set the bar way too high and that maybe I just fear that “awkward first session” because I’m really awkward with touching and this fetish. At NEST this year I’ve allowed friends I’ve met and connected with at previous gatherings to tickle me in the con-spaces to break that touch barrier in a fun, familiar way for everyone. I also let myself engage in pick-up sessions with friends to get that “awkward first session” out of the way! I had to reassure myself throughout the weekend that it was okay that they were touching me, and they were touching me because they wanted to~.

My nesting partner is choosy about the gatherings he attends as he wants to focus on those he has connected with already, and can find gatherings overwhelming at times. This NEST made me feel similar- I want to continue attending gatherings, and I love meeting new people, though going forward I’m going to focus on regular attendees and friends I know from previous gatherings. There are a lot of regulars and mutuals I would love to get to know better and potentially play with- I’m just really awkward and don’t know how to approach people, and in turn I feel I accidentally give off a closed-off vibe. I would like to be part of my friends’ friend group, I just don’t know how to integrate! NEST going forward, I would love to volunteer and help out more to continue making the gathering the best it can be!

Oh, I had my first Wawa experience! I tried their Caramel Cookies and Cream Frozen Cappuccino, IT WAS SO GOOD, Starbucks Frapps could never. definitely kept me up way past my bedtime! 😋 Also the mascot is a (Canada) Goose because Wawa was originally a dairy farm in Wawa, Pennsylvania, and the Ojibwe word “we’we” means “Snow Goose.” Now I need a Sheets experience~.

I got to try out @ticklingduck's vibrating tickling rods! @mister-ttt and I did record content including them! They are like a small Pursonic (without it stopping after 2 minutes~)! 😏 I also BOUGHT ONE!! 🎉 @ticklingduck's socials: Etsy, Twitter, Tumblr.

Wore my Geurdo Link cosplay on auction night, even though I was not participating in the auction, and I was extremely shy so I just sat in the audience and didn’t really show it off LMAO!! (Still editing the tickle video featuring this cosplay, previews are in the NEST Server and on my OF~).

I’ve had the literal pleasure of forming a play partner dynamic with a local friend, and he has really built up my confidence, self-esteem, and has helped me be more self-sex-positive. It was exciting to carry that sex-positivity into some sessions this weekend, and I learned that I really like being consensually sexually violated by friends.. 🥴💦 don't look at me.

This weekend really validated my growth and boundaries. Finding this gathering somewhat personally hard to navigate because I wasn’t meeting my exact wants (a me-issue, not NEST's), that helped me recognize that I’m not the same person I was at my first NEST and other 2019 gatherings, and that I’m truly growing. I wasn’t able to navigate NEST like I did in 2019, so now I know I’m on the right path and know what I’m exactly looking for.

And finally on the last day of the gathering, I’m sitting in the lobby in my lazy travel fit, not showered, sporty wind-breaker, capris, my glasses, pink paw print socks + sandals of course, and a guy I’m pretty sure was not part of the NEST group asked me if I was “Kyle-“ and there were other men around. I say no, and guy just wanders back to where he came from. Assigned Kyle at NEST. I have not felt gender euphoria in a long time. 🥹

anyway, the end. looking forward to the next gatherings~

#hi I'm never here but I'm doing really well! just lots going on in the in-person scene so I'm active there!#I still pop in from time-to-time. But I'm definitely happier in-person.#Thought I'd share my NEST 2024 experience as Fetlife got this! My AUNT 2024 is on my Fetlife too!#Anyway- I hope to see lots of familiar and new faces at NEST 2025~! I'm hoping to do lots of volunteering at future NESTs and events! :)#my posts #NEST #NEST 2024 #tickle gatherings #my writing #tickles #text

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tarasmithshifts · 5 months ago

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𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐑 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄: 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐅𝐓 part 1

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐑. 3 years 𝐀𝐆𝐄. 17-20 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏: sirius, remus, james, lily, peter, dorcas, marlene, mainly people from gryffindor and ravenclaw

𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒. taken

「 ✦ 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓼 ✦ 」

im crying rn. I AM SO HAPPY TO BE BACK IN THIS DR SOME CRAZY STUFF HAPPENED SOOOOO LETS GET INTO IT. THREE YEARS. gosh this is so crazy

— ୨୧₊˚ click here to read part 1 of my last update

— ୨୧₊˚ click here to read part 2 of my last update

i will write this storytime in 3 parts probably, i am noooooooot ready. NOT AT ALL.

be ready for 2 next parts because in this one nothing really happened, there was nothing crazy or something. let's say it's an interlude to the next 2 parts 🌷🌷🌷

「 ✦ 7th year ✦ 」

𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓮 - 7𝓽𝓱 𝔂𝓮𝓪𝓻

summer - sirius got his own place to live

summer- i bought a house in yorkshire

september - june -> final school year

july - odd proposition

okay so as we know we are in year 1977!! my last year at hogwarts with marauders :'( literally one of my best shifting experiences was hogwarts with my boys and girlssss

okay let's go because this is gonna be crazyyyyyyyyyy

ＳＵＭＭＥＲ

— ୨୧₊˚ last shift update ended in may and here i just wanted to say that i of course graduated!!! i just don't like wasting space for that info bc it's so obvious lmaoo

okay soooo i bought my house, as well as sirius!!! we got money from Alphard, who passed away and we split the money in half. i afforded a cottage in yorkshire, where i moved on in july, i was contacting with remus through letters, also because war intesified. then one day in the beginning of august he appeared at my front door and i kneeeeeeeeew something was wrong. and i was like "what is going on???" he asked if he can come inside, i said he doesn't have to ask and that he can ofc come inside, we sat in my living room and HOLY SHIT

lyall lupin is dead y'all.

my jaw was on the floor. and he didn't show any emotion while he was saying me that. and i was there. DEVASTETED. apparently death eaters killed him when he helped some aurors with their job outside of london, and he said that he just got the news from ministry.

and we sat there.

in my living room.

in silence.

gosh you should've seen him. i was not prepared to this at ALL. AT ALL.

so uhhh we decided that he will stay at my place for few days (he stayed with me all summer hahaha) the next day we went over to sirius to tell him, as he knew lyall as well. during next week remus planned, but it was right before full moon so i said to him that i will take care of it. i didn't want him to stuggle even more. full moon happened on 16 of july, remus was in worse state that i expected but we got through it :') the funeral happened few days later, it was a small ceremony, without anybody around us. in documents it was stated that lyall had a heart attack so there wasn't any problems with people thinking about how he actually died. he was buried next to hope lupin :(

we spent whole summer at my house, sometimes visiting his to clean up or move some stuff, and sometimes we visited boys and i went over to lily 💗 i don't have much to talk about here so i'm not going to describe anything lmao

and one of the things that we do at my house is listening to remus mum records from the opera 🥲🥲🥲🥲 it’s so cute and i can confirm, his mum was AMAZING

also i forgot to say that during summer sirius and james encountered two Muggle police officers on FLYING MOTORBIKE. are you kidding me LMAO 😭😭😭

S C H O O L Y E A R

in this school year most of the time we spent learning for our finals :')

i needed to pass 5 N.E.W.T.s so i had a lot of work to do, as i wanted to become auror in the ministry.

also many people we knew from ministry was dying because of war, all of them were mentioned in daily propet, we read it DAILY. we didn't care for it earlier, but from that moment we read it religiously.

i think that we were also scared that there will appear a name of someone that we knew personally.

hogwarts was not the same that year.

also james and lily were made head boy and girl of gryffindor! james was super proud of himself and at the beginning he was telling EVERYONE around how cool he is. and lily is super happy with him which i'm so THANKFULLLLLL they are so cute you need to believe me lmao 💗💗

me and remus were helping each other A LOT during this school year, because of n.e.w.t.s i saw that he was super stressed about them :/

alsooo we had inter-house quidditch cup!!! we had some changes in positions, me and sirius took beaters positions (which is pretty funny because years later fred and george weasley had this position too, and they are also twins lmao) arthur browne took the keeper postition, james, geoffrey fawley and marlene were chasers, and phoebe dawson was a seeker.

also regulus became captain of slytherin team, and gryffindor lost match with them, so we were super angry but it is what it is lmao 😭

also boys did not spend that much time with each other, all of them became more serious about their future (okay, maybe except sirius lol) so they were not doing that much pranks etc. i spent more time with lily, she helped me a lot with potions too, also we sat together on potions because slughorn LOVED HER. literally she was his pearl in the eye,he invited her to his partys etc, gave her books she could learn from even more, which helped me not her LMAO 😭😭😭😭😭😭

ALSO from funny things that happened, one night after mine and sirius' birthday, we were sitting down in boys dormitory, me, ofc marauders, marlene, lily and dorcas, there was silent moment and sudenly dorcas went "is it only me or dumbledore is gay" AND WE WERE LIKE "WHAT" and we had full debate if he is gay or not LMAO and yup the verdict was that he is gayest of all gays ever LMAOOOOOOOOO 😭😭😭😭😭😭

about n.e.w.t.s - I PASSED 6 SUCCESSFULLY IM SO HAPPY AHHHHHHHHHHH

DADA - i totally slayed this one HA

POTIONS - it went better than i thought, so i'm safe with this one

CHARMS - it went even better after dada exams because i was sure it will be easier than dada one, and i was right

TRANSFIGURATION - thanks to mcgonagall, without her i would be screwed with one lmao

HISTORY OF MAGIC - okay this one went worse than i expected but i still got E

CARE OF MAGICAL CREATURES - this one was HELL. literal HELL TO ME because i did not like this subject and learning it for n.e.w.t.s was a torture, but i passed it with E

me and remus decided to move into my house together :')) so did lily and james, they bought a cute house at godric's hollow 💗💗💗

J U L Y

me and remus lived in yorkshire, we used teleportation to see sirius, peter, james and lily from time to time. in the middle of july sirius appeared at our door. we were at home, so we let him in. and he started yapping about some kind of order, he was talking so fast we literally had no idea what he was saying. when we sat him down, he started from the beginnig, and he told us about the order of pheonix. that dumbledore is looking for people that are talented and brave enough to fight against voldemort. and that he wants to prepare us before dumbledore will appear at our door. he said that he already joined the order, as well as peter. he started telling us who already is there, and that he wants to give us more time to think because albus wants immidiate decision.

so after sirius left me and remus were talking for HOURS about what should we say to dumbledore after he will appear. and we both agreeded that joining order will be the best decision for us. we could finally help in war, and not only help other wizards but also save muggles.

in the evening somebody appeared at our door. we heard the teleportation sound outside. out there it was very dark, like every light on the street disapeared. remus told me to stay inside and opened the door by himself with his wand raised, but he only saw dumbledore, and immediately lowered wand. dumbledore looked at him and just said "if it wasn't me, you would be dead already remus."

i stood in the kitchen but observed the whole thing, and finally stood outside so albus would see me too. "you should ask me a question" said dumbledore, still not coming inside. i just stood there and waited for remus to say something, and remus finally spoke "who told severus snape about the secret" obviously he was telling about the prank, dumbledore only smiled and said "oh of course mr. black" and came inside. he looked around and i showed him the way to living room. me and remus sat on the couch, while dumbledore sat on huge armchair that we bought recently. "you need to be more creative next time" he said "they can get such and information" and after that he started to TALK and when i say talk, he talked for like about 30 minutes NON STOP. about the order, about his trust in us, about the need of our magic, about the importance of defeating voldemort. and after he stopped talking, he just looked at us, and we both immediately said "yes".

and from that moment, nothing ever will be the same.

「 ✦ end notes ✦ 」

gosh i finally published this

HELLO IM SO BACKKKKK and i can't wait to tell you more, because this was super short and it was just the beginning of spiral chaos that will happen, so BE READY.

anyways, IM SO HAPPYYYYY and i can't wait to tell you moreeeeeeeeeeee 🌷💫💗

#reality shifting #desired reality #shifting community #shifting #reality shifter #quantum jumping #shifting realities #marauders

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zvaigzdelasas · 1 year ago

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Probably a pretty good sign about Arévalo that heritage foundation doesn't like him lmao

The results also do not bode well for America, as the current government has been pro-U.S. and a staunch American foreign policy ally, and the election of a leftist government could dramatically change all that.[...]

Arévalo hails from a new political party, Semilla. Local conservatives fear “he will make common cause with global progressives on abortion, gender identity, and a pro-LGBTQ+ platform.” Last year, Semilla unsuccessfully introduced a bill in parliament “for persons who menstruate,” a reference to “transgender” men’s rights [...]

The impact of Guatemala’s election on American national security could be severe. The current conservative government has been a staunch U.S. foreign policy ally, recognizing Taiwan over Communist China, openly backing Ukraine over Russia, and being solidly pro-Israel and pro-U.S. Other Latin American states have joined China’s Belt and Road Initiative of receiving massive loans and infrastructure investments in return for loyalty to Beijing. Recently, current Guatemalan President Alejandro Giammattei pledged “absolute support” for Taiwan after neighboring Honduras switched sides and recognized Beijing over Taipei.[...]

[Arévalo] has made it clear that he wants to establish closer relations with China since he believes that it is essential for Guatemala’s economic growth. Palmieri said that Guatemala’s conservative values are aligned with conservative American principles: “Guatemala is one of the U.S.’s last partners in the region that still holds conservative values such as support for a free-market economy, recognizing the hemispheric threat Communist China represents, and fidelity to the idea that the family structure is central to our lives.”

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tacoma-narrows · 5 months ago

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Searing Pink Skies (2024 Version)

Yesterday, June 8th, was Rhazz's birthday, so you know what that means! It's time for my yearly Rhazz and Agouti birthday/pride month piece!! It is a time honored tradition here in the Tacoma Nation to blast you all with Lesbian Dragons at least once a year :3

Lots of ramblies abt them plus the original piece that this is a redraw of, and some additional goodies, are below the cut :3

Rhazz and Agouti were my first ever LGBTQ+ OC pairing when I paired them together back in November of 2018 and as you can see, I still love them very much today <33 I'm super happy with how this piece came out, especially since it's a redraw! I wanted to redraw that first ever piece I did of them together from 2018, which is below if you want to see it! That piece still holds up as one of my all time favs and I love how this one looks side by side with the old one <3 I think my redraw of my original Vostok piece from abt two weeks ago got me thinking abt redrawing other old pieces, so here we are hehe.

But it's also Rhazz's birthday! (Or at least it was yesterday lol) I may not show it very often here, but those of you who've followed me on Insta (or WoFA god forbid lmao) for a long time will know that Rhazz is my all time fav WoF OC :3 She's one one of my biggest comfort OCs and pairing her with Agouti just made me like her all the more haha. Her design and personality are based on the Roaring Twenties and Art Deco, which is also one of my fav, aesthetics I guess you could say ?? Idk lol but I love her so much, so be sure to wish Rhazz a happy bday!! I've had her for 6 years now omg!!

(Ignore the fact that the sky is in fact orange and not pink, the original piece used the old lesbian flag colors lol)

Here's the original from November of 2018! I also made this original drawing into a speedpaint which you can check out here if you want!

And then as a bonus here are my last few Agouti + Rhazz pride month/bday pieces from 2019, 2021, 2022 and 2023 :3

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sakasakiii · 8 months ago

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hi!!! how long does an average panel of one of your comics take??

i love your work so much!! it got me into silmblr hehe

HI NONNIE!!! thank u sooooso much for checking in and for ur lovely ask! it means a lot to hear that my silly ol scribbles were what introduced u to the glorious landscape that is the tolkien fandom! on tumblr no less!! i hope you stay a real long time, and have a blast while you're at it 💖💖

now onto your question! that's some good food for thought uhhhh i can try to estimate?? its been a while but i shld have some rough ideas abt each that i can share! the time frame each comic/panel takes is highly dependent on WHAT kind of comic it is. i hv two kinds of comics I usually do: 1) full-length, and 2) goofy/4koma.

i have a few full-length comics laying about in my archive, but my most recent one/best example is Ghosts which was around uh.... 7 pages excluding the bonus panels! in terms of the process, i usually divide it into 5 stages:

Drafting: this is either the fastest stage OR the slowest depending entirely whether i know what im doing LMAO,, if i have a set idea for what i want to happen, i might get drafts done in a few hours, but if i flounder, it can take a few days 🤔

Lineart: relatively simple enough once i hv the draft down, so id say anything ranging from an hour to half a day if theres nothing else going on irl

Block colouring (main actors): there are DEFINITELY easier and more professional ways to do this with mass-selection and the lasso fill/bucket tool, but idk how to do that on SAI (my art program) so i colour everything by hand HAHA which makes the process longer.... half a day to a day?

Shading: THE WORST!!! definintely my least favourite bc i find it tedious due to all the details/prettification of elves that i am legally obliged to pour into this stage 😭😭 as a result, it can take days!!!

Background + Lighting + Final Rendering: similar to the previous stage haha it just depends on how much effort i wanna put into the final product looking nice. roughly a few days? it kind of meshes with stage 4 anyways haha

just for fun, i hope this process gif for page 6 can illustrate that 👇

these are just rough estimates, bc all in all, the time it takes so finish a page is really dependent on how free I am hahaha. Also, I usually work on full-length comics like Ghost which have more than one page all at once, which means I drafted all 7 pages at once, then did the lineart for all 7 pages at once, coloured at once, shaded rendered bla bla bla 😚 iirc, i think it took me 11 days in total to finish Ghosts before the end of June last year!

For goofy/4-koma, its usually just one page with less detailed/more cartoonish/chibi character styles so it takes a day or two days at most! again, it all boils down to how free i am hehe

YEAH SORRY THIS ENDED UP BEING AN INFO DUMP but thank you so much again for asking and letting me ramble! <3 i ended up having a lot of fun looking back on my drafts n thinking back on my processes.... theres defininitely room for improvement, but thats another worry for another day heheh 😎

#rin replies #anon asks #silmarillion #yeah sorry again this turned into a yap fest 💃💃#i never knew all those wips wld come in handy but maybe its a good thing i like sending myself things hehe #cannot reiterate enough how much i HATE colouring :((((#thank you again for ur kind message nonnie <33 #silm #silm comic #wip #behind the scenes stuff

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johaerys-writes · 3 months ago

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OH MY GOD HOW CAN I CHOSE THERE’S SO MANY OPTIONS AND THEY’RE ALL SO GOOD 😭😭😭

let’s see if i can control myself and just ask for three

so MODERN OMEGAVERSE PLEASE I’M BEGGING

PYRRHA MY BELOVED I NEED HER

PLEASURE SLAVE AU!!!!!!!

i really want to ask about all of them but let’s save some for the people 🫣💕

Aaaahhh okay let's have a look!!!

Modern omegaverse: I've talked about this here before I think, but it's basically modern AU college omegaverse, featuring alpha Patroclus and very messy and jealous omega Achilles. They're friends but their relationship has been a little rocky since going away to college (Patroclus is a little older so he went away first, and he has all those cool and hot friends now and that makes Achilles crrraazyyyy, so crazy in fact that he accidentally goes into heat LMAO) It's very messy and they both make really bad decisions, the writing is also a mess because I started it a couple years ago, changed my mind about a couple plot things, then I got stuck so I actually left it on the backburner but I really want to get back to it!! Here is a little snippet from the beginning:

“Got any plans for the weekend?” “Not much,” Achilles says. Odysseus and Diomedes have asked him to go out with them for drinks, but Achilles is secretly hoping that Patroclus will ask him to do something together. If he does, he’ll ditch Odysseus and Diomedes in a heartbeat. “What about you?” Patroclus flashes him a grin, a little mischievous. “I’m hoping for a date with a really cute guy.” “Oh,” Achilles breathes, but it feels like a gut punch. Fuck, he’s always known this moment would come, and he’s always dreaded it. Patroclus is gorgeous, and Achilles isn’t just saying that because he’s had a crush on him ever since he can remember himself. Patroclus is smart and funny and caring, and so easy to be around. It was only a matter of time before he would find someone else, and ditch Achilles for good. That doesn’t stop his fists from clenching, simply at the thought of whoever it is that caught Patroclus’ attention. “Cool,” he says, trying to give him a smile that definitely comes out more tense and tight than he meant. “Awesome. That’s great, Patroclus. Anyone I know?” Patroclus stares at him in confusion for a moment, before he blushes and blurts out, “You! I meant you. Sorry, I was just trying to be funny— I thought— I asked you last week if you’d be free to hang out…?” “Oh! Right, sorry, I forgot.” The surge of relief rushing through Achilles leaves him dizzy. It’s a little embarrassing that he jumped to conclusions so quickly, but honestly, it’s not that hard to do when Patroclus has so many friends and acquaintances now, vying for his attention. “Of course, we’ll hang out together, of course. What do you want to do?”

2. Pyrrha worship: I got an anon ask a while ago with a request for a smutty one shot with disasters patchilles when they're older, and I sat on it for a long while because I couldn't really come up with anything exciting, but then I was listening to Miss June '75 by The Brian Jonestown Massacre the other day and my mind instantly went, Pyrrha??? Ahaha, so basically it's a smutty one shot where Achilles dresses up all fancy in his favourite red dress and his stockings and heels and everything, and after they come back home Patroclus just has to worship the fuck out of his wife <3 I don't have much to share yet but I'm hoping to get to it once I post the next BBB chapter!

3. Pleasure slave AU: boy oh boy do I have a lot to say about this one haha. I've been teasing about this AU for a while now and I'm not at all close to sharing any writing for it, mostly because it's a bunch of notes and plot points and random bits of conversation in the doc BUT essentially the idea behind it is that Patroclus didn't grow up in Phthia with Achilles, but instead was sent to Lyrnessus and grew up with Briseis, so when the Achaeans attack the city, Patroclus is given to Achilles as a pleasure slave instead of Briseis. It's quite horny and very angsty and I swear I will get to it eventually after I finish one of the million works I have in progress right now lol!!!!

#patrochilles #a million and one aus lmao WELP

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kinglets · 8 months ago

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my art then vs now

I can't believe it's already 10 years since I started learning art because I was motivated by soriku. The left picture is from June 2014, and the one on the right I scribbled just last night. Seeing the difference is pretty wild because when I first started I never thought it could change so much.

I can't forget how hard it was at first, because nothing turned out the way I wanted it to and I gave my files some incredibly deprecating names. I was really kind of flying blind without any technique because I never had formal lessons lmao. I'm incredibly thankful to my friend Kett, who encouraged me a lot in my early years, otherwise I don't know if I could have stuck with it.

It's interesting to look through my art tag and see it stretch so far back. It took about 2 years of practice before I started to see noticeable improvement, and another year before it looked good enough that people wanted to reblog it. Whenever I got into new fandoms from time to time-- getting to see new styles and paying attention to what I liked about each-- also helped me improve some too. That being said, I think I could also have done more to study from real life or guides properly. Setting time aside to draw is tough because I was usually a full-time student or working a full-time job. When my time is limited, I just want to skip to drawing the things that give me serotonin, y'know?

This art journey changed my life for the better because it gave me the ability to contribute to what I love. I went from being a lurker to a participant and got to bond with other soriku fans, some of which who became very dear friends to me.

If you ever want to draw for your OTP but don't know how to, or feel embarrassed to, I wanna say just try it! It's a bit of a long term investment because the payoff might not come for years, but it's been rewarding for me and I only wish I started sooner.

#things i draw

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aprilias · 5 months ago

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During the last race weekend, I posted about making a stats post about three particular riders if it received a certain benchmark (one like). Since we reached that marker with ease, and I have nothing better to do with my time, I am presenting you the findings of this research.

The Context: Jack Miller’s "princess" rant was post-race at the Sachsenring on 18th June 2023, so it’s almost been a full year since then. In this rant he targeted Fabio Quartararo and Marc Marquez who were complaining about their Yamaha and Honda bikes not working last year and told them to shut the fuck up and stop complaining, a quote that seems to have aged poorly when looking at their results.

So let's see if this is the case...

Qualifying results:

(Also for reference, each of these will show 2023 and 2024 results separately because there will ofc be a spike for a certain someone who went from a Honda to a Ducati lmao)

For 2023, Miller did the best out of the three in terms of his average qualifying position, narrowly ahead of Marquez, and he also had the highest qualifying position of them all (his P2 at Silverstone in wet conditions).

Quartararo did the best in his inter-team battle with Franco Morbidelli last season, being the top Yamaha in nearly 85% of the races. Marquez was the top Honda in 9 out of the 13 races (with Joan Mir x3 and Taka Nakagami being the two riders to beat Marc to top Honda in qualifying last year).

However, when it comes to the three of them, it was Marquez that was able to qualify the highest on the grid, with him beating Quartararo and Miller in 6 out of the 13 races post-Sachsenring in 2023. Jack was top 4 times, with Fabio taking the remaining three (as you can hopefully see by the colour-coordinated gold, silver and bronze).

For 2024, it's clear to see that Marc has been the best out of these guys, with the highest average position, as well as being the only one out of the three to take pole position which he earned in Jerez. However, he has only been the top Ducati twice, in Jerez and COTA, but as well all know he has a year old bike to contend with the Pramacs and factory Ducati riders.

The rest of the data shows that both KTM and Yamaha have gotten worse, with Fabio and Yamaha failing to qualify in the top 5 so far this season, but despite this, he still leads the head-to-head against his teammate. Jack, on the other hand, has a respectable qualifying average so far in 2024, but has only been the top KTM once (in Portimao).

So far this year, Marc has been the best of the three 4 times, with Jack taking two and Fabio taking his one win over the three in Le Mans.

Sprint race results:

For 2023, none of the three riders had particularly good sprint record, with the highest average finisher (Miller) not having a good enough average to even score points.

Marc earned the most points in the sprint races last year with 23, though he only finished in the points three times. Fabio scored the lowest number of points and had the lowest average position, however he was still able to earn a podium.

Marc and Fabio share the exact same record in sprints when it comes to beating their teammates, with the two of them being the top Honda/Yamaha over 50% of the time.

In the 2023 H2H, Marc was the best of the three across the 12 weekends (due to no sprint in Phillip Island), winning 5 of these battles; Miller took four sprint weekends and Fabio took 3.

Marquez clearly has the better record in sprints this year, with his average position of third leaving him on the podium. Fabio's average has improved since last year but he has only finished in the points once, and Miller's has also improved - with his average position ninth and meaning he would more often than not be in the points.

Marc, Jack and Fabio all currently have the better record against their teammates in the sprint races in 2024. Marc has a 100% record against his brother Alex, while Fabio has beaten Alex Rins in six of the seven sprints so far this year (which could've been 7/7 if he had completed the Mugello sprint). Jack has beaten Brad in 5 races out of the seven, however is still struggling when it comes to beating the rookie Pedro Acosta, as he has only been the top KTM bike once.

In the H2H between the three of them, Marquez takes it on the sprints winning 6/7 races. Fabio takes the other with his fifth place in Jerez.

Race results:

In the main races in 2023, it was Fabio who led the statistics between the three riders. Despite having the worst average qualifying, he won six of the 13 weekends against Marc and Jack. Marc took 4 while Jack took 2; although Assen is colour coded here, they all DNFd so it doesn't count, and it is coded in order of race completion (so because Fabio DNfed the latest he's gold if this makes sense).

Marc and Fabio once again had the better of their teammates in 2023, while Miller was only able to beat Binder in 23% of the races. This is even more damning for Miller when comparing the teammates' 2023 averages - with Binder averaging a finishing position of 4.8, while Miller's was 10.6. This is compared to Marquez vs Mir (9 vs 10.75 in Marquez's favour) and Quartararo vs Morbidelli (8.42 vs 12.23 in Quartararo's favour) where the battles are closer, and the riders are winning their team and factory head-to-heads despite being considered to have a worse bike than the KTM.

In 2024, it's clear that Marquez has the better race statistics, with three podiums and an average position of 5th. However, he has not finished as the top Ducati in any race so far this year, but he does have the better record against his teammate.

Quartararo and Miller have similar records with their average finishes this year, however Quartararo is the more consistent rider with more points and more races completed. He is also currently winning his head to head against teammate Alex Rins by finishing ahead in 57% of the races in 2024.

In terms of KTM, it has been a disaster year for Miller, who is yet to finish ahead of his teammate in any race this year and, consequently, has not finished as the top KTM. His average is significantly less than that of both Binder (6.71) and Acosta, the rider that will replace him next year, who has an average race position of 7th.

From this, Marquez has won the 2024 comparison in 6 of the 7 races, with Quartararo taking the remaining one.

In summary: Although he has done well in qualifying and sprints since these comments, Jack Miller has been outperformed by both Fabio Quartararo and Marc Marquez on inferior machinery (for Marc's stats from 2023). Marc has of course had the better of 2024 after switching to Ducati, but also has won out against the other two in qualifying and sprint races while on a Honda for 2023. Fabio does well in the races despite his relatively low qualifying positions, but is limited from achieving top 5s due to the Yamaha's capabilities. Jack does well in qualifying and sprints, but when it comes to the main events on Sundays, he lacks a bit in comparison to his rivals.

From what this data is showing, it seems as if Marc has comprehensively beaten Jack Miller despite his complaints about Honda in 2023, and Fabio has also narrowly done it due to his race pace. In short: those comments aged not-very-well to say the least.

If there's anything anyone wants to know or ask about then my asks are always open but I kinda had fun doing this!

#this was kinda fun actually #also if u read all the text then well done guys because i zoned tf out towards the end #i am stunned at miller not beating binder once in races this year though #but u guys wanted it and i hope i delivered #also u cant call me biased i did not look through motogp.com for 4 hours for accurate info for this #motogp

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