#balancing and combining both sides into something further that only he can do~

[alwayslurkinginthebackground]

Rocking Chair - A Joel Miller Drabble

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader Rating: E, unprotected p in v, slightest of breeding kinks?, idk y'all I just went feral here. Word Count: 2156 a/n: Happy TLOU Sunday! I genuinely blacked out while writing half of this in some kind of NyQuil induced haze! Enjoy!

Something is bothering him.

You clocked it the second you walked over the threshold of his brother's home. Actually, you knew something was up long before that, when he kept trying to make excuses as to why you and Ellie should go and he should stay home, despite the fact that it was his brother. Eventually, you convinced him to follow you down the street, Ellie chattering excitedly about the prospect of having a baby in the family while Joel dragged his feet.

His mood only worsened as the evening went on, following the trend of distance he'd been following since the baby arrived, a pattern that made you uneasy. Tonight, it was difficult to tell if it was the result of the mirage of questioning from the handful of close friends Tommy and Maria had invited over to meet their new son or because of whatever was lurking in the depths of his mind, but you kept trying to pinpoint it. You could only assume that it was some combination of both, a hypothesis only strengthened by the look of disappointment in the younger Miller brother's eyes when his sibling politely declined the opportunity to hold his nephew.

You're next to Ellie on the couch, the newest resident of Jackson tucked into your arms, when you meet his eyes from across the room for what feels like the thousandth time since you arrived. He's leaning against the door to the kitchen and you can see the discomfort in his posture and the way his shoulders tense further as yet another person approaches to congratulate him as though he was the new father and not his brother.

"Can I hold him?" Ellie asks suddenly, pulling your attention back to your side of the room. You turn to find her bright eyes looking down at the sleeping child, and it's impossible to stop the spread of warmth through your chest at the teen's eagerness. After a quick glance at Maria for permission, you gently pass the bundle over to Ellie, showing her how to properly cradle his head.

Joel's still watching when you turn back to the kitchen, his gaze securely set on the way Ellie is beaming as she holds the newborn. There's something hovering beneath the surface of his dark gaze, the root of whatever has truly been bothering him, and you feel certain you've almost worked it out when Ellie elbows you.

"He's waking up! What do I do?!"

"Just keep holding him, it'll be okay," you reassure her, although when the crying starts a moment later you can't help but join in the laughter filling the room as Ellie quickly hands the baby back to his mother. She breathes a sigh of relief and flops back on the couch the second he's out of her arms, and you give her a pat on the shoulder before you naturally seek out Joel once more, only to find him gone.

You don't see him again until the gathering winds down. He's eager to get home, and soon he's resuming his vigil of silence on the walk back down the street. He's behind you, always behind you, his shoulders still set in the same rigid formation they've been in all night, and you walk a few feet ahead with Ellie, doing your best to answer her questions about when the baby will start talking or walking and whether you think he'll look more like Tommy or Maria when he gets older.

The delicate balance that has been hanging between the three of you all evening holds steady until you're back through your own door, when three sets of eyes land on the rocking chair that still sits nearby, the silence soon enveloping you all.

"I thought you were going to bring that for Tommy and Maria?" Ellie asks, breaking the tension in a way that has you wincing, even if she's right. The chair still smells of fresh lumber, the smooth edges molded by Joel's hands in the late hours of the night when he couldn't sleep, and it's still sitting in your living room.

"Didn't he want it?" she continues, earning her an elbow to the ribs courtesy of your right arm. Joel grumbles something behind you as Ellie winces, and you're already silently begging her not to push it further. She must catch the look you give her because a moment later she's heading upstairs with a heavy sigh, the door of her room closing with a soft click.

"Wanna tell me what's going on?" you inquire firmly once you're alone, arms crossing over your chest as you watch Joel move into the kitchen.

He dismisses you with a shake of his head and a muttered "nothin's wrong," but the way he stands, unmoving as he stares at the sparse contents of the fridge, tells you otherwise.

"No, something is bothering you, so do you wanna start with why you've been distant all week or would you rather discuss the way you tried to stay as far away as possible from your new nephew tonight?"

It's easy to see the way he tenses when you finish your questioning. You've known him long enough to recognize the subtle straightening of his spine whenever you hit a little too close to the mark and the way he avoids eye contact when he turns back in your direction, a signal that you have indeed gotten under his skin. It's in the familiar quiet that descends upon the kitchen as you wait for him to speak.

Only, unlike the clockwork routine you expect to follow, the one that usually has him letting down a few of his walls for you and you alone, you instead find yourself hauled against his body like a man possessed. When his grasp trails to your thighs, it's mostly instinct that has you jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist in a practiced motion.

He's pinning you against the counter within seconds.

"Joel," you mumble, trying to sound stern even as his lips trail along your jawline, down your neck, and across the expanse of your chest, trailing lower until he's found where you're wet and wanting. You try to get him to look at you, hands raking through the hair he's refused to cut as of late, hopeful that his gaze will tell you something about the way you can feel him avoiding whatever it is that's on his mind. A hint as to why he's using you to forget instead of working through the emotions that are obviously controlling his every move.

But when your eyes meet his again, you only see the feral haze of lust, and you can do nothing but give in when he's pressing his nose against the damp spot between your thighs, leaving you thankful for the warm summer air that made you choose one of the few dresses in your closet as your attire for the evening.

He's slipped your panties from your legs in record time, leaving you squirming atop the edge of the small island in the center of the room. It's obvious that he won't be gentle, not tonight, not when he's hard between your thighs a moment later, filling you in a swift motion that has you wondering when he managed to even unbutton his jeans. You bite into the soft flesh of his shoulder, holding in the scream that could alert the teenager upstairs about what's currently happening in the kitchen, but the sound crawls up your chest with each pound of his hips against yours.

"Quiet," he whispers harshly in your ear, an unnecessary command because a moment later he's devouring you again, the frantic movement of his lips against yours concealing any evidence that threatens to escape. It's fast, the way he's rutting into you, within you, driving you higher until you're no longer certain where he stops and you begin.

And then you notice it. You catch the way he's focused on something over your shoulder, but it isn't until he's lifted you from the counter and carried you effortlessly across the room that your mind begins to process.

Ellie's earlier question slips from your mouth when he settles you in his lap, your knees braced against the wood on either side of his hips. "Thought this was for Tommy," you grit out when he guides your hips against his own, the chair rocking back in a way that leaves you feeling off balance. "I thought it was for the ba..."

He cuts you off with a grunt, pulling you back down and holding you tightly against him as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. He's strangely silent, his movements slowing to nothing even as the chair continues to shift slowly back and forth beneath you. The only sound remaining is the heavy rhythm of your breath, your body relaxing further against his in a way that makes it impossible not to feel him everywhere.

"Hey," you ask, voice softer now, more at ease, because you know he'll hear you this time. "I saw the way you were looking at them, earlier." He says nothing as you trace your fingers along the greying stubble on his jaw and you wait to see if he'll answer you, even if you already know his answer to the question you haven't asked.

It wasn't a secret to anyone that Joel was struggling with the idea of his brother having a kid, but it left everyone treading a fine line between the eager new father and the man still plagued by the memories of his lost daughter. The prospect of new joys mirrored only by the multitude of moments stolen long, long ago.

So when Joel had brought up the idea of the rocking chair, it caught you off guard. Things had been understandably tense between the Miller brothers, but it felt to you like Joel was finally finding peace with the situation, the rocking chair serving as an olive branch. One that might just help repair the broken parts of their relationship. But now, wrapped up in his arms, you begin to realize that perhaps you've been reading it all wrong.

You smooth back his hair from his forehead, looking down at him, and you see it. It's not just the loss of Sarah he's mourning now. It's the loss of all of it.

So you do the only thing you can think of. You move.

The sound that escapes his lips as you lift from his lap can only be described as a growl, one that you can feel rumbling in his chest when you brace your hands against it. You're slow at first, letting his length drag along your walls until he's nearly slipped from your heat, and then you fall back down. Joel's hands slip beneath the fabric of your dress, pushing it up along the expanse of your back as his fingers trail along your spine.

He pulls you closer then, his grip just as possessive as earlier, tugging you against him in a way that has you keening. You do your best to cling to reality, gripping the wood behind his head, nails digging into the surface as he continues to guide you. But when he tries to lift you from his lap, as he tries to proceed through the practiced motions that will leave him spilling across your stomach, you stop him.

"It's okay," you whisper against his ear, "let go."

For a moment he resists, his eyes clamping shut with the effort it takes to ward off his own climax as you continue to clench around him. But when you whisper it again, it's all the encouragement he needs. He finally snaps, pulling you somehow closer as he buries his length in your heat, the movement causing the chair that supports you both to rock back and forth gently as he fills you to the brim.

The air in the room feels different as you come back to earth, the two of you still nearly fully clothed as you perch atop his lap. He's softening inside you, the gentle feeling of his release trickling down your thigh and onto his jeans, but neither of you have the will to move aside from the way you gently rest your head against his shoulder.

"Are you sure?" Joel asks a while after, the question sounding redundant as his hands run soothingly along your back.

You nod against him, pressing your lips to the spot where his shoulder meets his neck. "I'm sure. Although," you pause, pulling back, "I think you might need to make another chair for Tommy and Maria."

"And why would that be?" he questions in a way that, for the first time in weeks, makes you feel like the man you love is back.

"Because," you kiss him softly, "we're gonna need this one for us."

[sunderingstars]

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✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ IDLES & EXPRESSIONS ⌝

sampo analysis m.list

— what the stars reveal: analysis, elation!sampo

— word count: 1.6k

— overview: (as of 2.2) a look at sampo’s idles, expressions, and general outward demeanor in the context of confidence and performance, as well as how they relate to elation!sampo theories. i decided to combine these since they had such overlap :3

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✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ INTRODUCTION ⌝

There are two major facets to the ways Sampo’s outward demeanor may relate to a higher state of Elation: confidence and performance. These can further branch into the confidence of his body language and the performance of his expressions.

The Path of Elation is well-known for its emphasis on “performance” and exaggeration, so it would make sense that higher beings (whether Emanator, Aeon, or otherwise) would gravitate in higher degrees towards these concepts. For example, Sampo’s overwhelming confidence in his idles and kit may speak to the kind of confidence an extremely powerful being would have in their own ability to handle conflict — a surety that comes naturally with being in the upper echelon of consciousness.

Additionally, the clear exaggerations to his expressions would pull him closer in orbit to the core of Elation, the “performance” of the self. While it is important to note that other Masked Fools like Sparkle have exaggerated expressions as well, the combination of Sampo’s confidence and laid-back personality tempers this exaggeration into something older and more mature (i.e. the nuanced balance between power and longevity). 

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ IDLES ⌝

Sampo’s first idle shows him flipping through a stack of bills and seeming very pleased with himself. His body language is especially notable here (as it is with both his idles) — open, casual, and relaxed. The confidence comes not just from his expression, but from the way he easily shifts from foot to foot, steady and balanced while he flips through the money with open arms and an ease that comes from practice.

Additionally, his expressions show an ease of movement from whistling to smiling, the crease to his eyes showing he’s pleased with himself. There’s a clear communication here: this is his realm of expertise. He’s done this so many times he barely has to think about it, flowing through the motions without so much as a hitch. This can also speak toward his adeptness at deceit and trickery; the money represents scams and generally “shady” business deals, so it shows he’s practiced at faking identities too.

His second idle has to do with his weapon, taking one of the blades and twirling it around. Again, he easily shifts from foot to foot and hand to hand, handling a sharp weapon with the ease of practice. His stance is once again open, shoulders broad and head tilted. When he catches the blade, he looks close to the camera with a determined look, showcasing a lack of nervousness or embarrassment to be showing off. He is also only handling one blade — if we are operating under the idea that his dual blades resemble dual “sides” to his being (whether consciousness, identity, or form), then he is maneuvering a single one with ease.

Personally, I think this single blade represents his mortal form, with him showing us how easy it is for him to maneuver due to being in it for so long. This mortal form would also be directly “Sampo” and everything associated with him, so the ease with which he handles the blade could speak to the ease with which he carries out multiple facets of his identity as Sampo (fighting, scamming, smooth talking, etc.). 

Together, these idles show two important parts of his character: money and blade. The deceit, the trickery of lying about one’s own identity is handled with ease, as is the singular blade, the fang of a mortal form. Through this, he shows us that he is not the bumbling idiot he makes himself out to be — that act is reserved for when it benefits him; when he really needs to, he can flip through those bills without a mistake, twirl that blade as if it poses no danger.

The casual nature of it all is what sticks out to me most. Not only is he confident, not only is he performative, but it seems to come so easily to him. They’re practiced motions, refined with time, to the point he can handle such things as “idles,” something to simply while away the time. Perhaps that’s what it means to be immortal (or somewhere close to it) — the steady march of time flattens all, and what once was difficult or dangerous becomes as easy as breathing.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ EXPRESSIONS ⌝

Now, let’s move on to his expressions. This is where the “performance” in performative emotion really kicks in:

As we can see, Sampo has a wide range of expressions. In comparison to other characters like Welt or Gepard, he is quickly able to go from raised eyebrows and a stretching smile to sharp, angry eyebrows and narrowing eyes. While we do see this with other expressive characters like Tingyun (not the best control example, though, since she ended up being an Emanator in disguise), Serval, and even Jing Yuan, I want to note how Sampo’s expressions match very closely with the “stereotypical” emote symbols.

His shy, grumpy, and gentle are especially exaggerated, enough so to match the “performance” of the emotes. His eyebrows especially seem to match, creasing up and down when needed, as do his eyes, opening and closing and narrowing in accordance to which emotion is being “performed.” He is good at projecting emotion, but not at expressing it genuinely — his surprised face seems more carefully guarded than the rest, not confident in the wide smile or the deep frown but rather genuinely caught off-guard, unable to find a true place to rest when not “smiling” or “frowning.” We can really only tell the emotion from his eyes, which have slightly widened. 

I feel like this heavily ties into the idea of “masks,” the idea of being able to perform a range of emotions with the ease of practice but getting tripped up when something genuine approaches. It’s easy for him to put on his wide smiles when he’s shy and gentle, to put on his deep frowns when he’s grumpy and confused, but the surprise stays locked behind his eyes, never truly able to make it past the mask. He never opens his mouth, either — in many of the other expressive characters, they open their mouths somewhere in their expressions to show emotion (i.e. Jing Yuan’s confused and shy, Serval’s confused and surprised, and Argenti’s surprised). Even Tingyun gasps in shock. But Sampo? His mouth stays shut like a mask.

Although both the Masked Fools and Aha have masks that open their mouths, I feel like this “closed mouth” pattern is supposed to heighten the idea of the over-exaggerated “smiling” and “frowning” motif of a mask, perhaps even Sampo’s inability to speak or be honest about his identity, intentional or otherwise. There’s an almost silencing feel to it; despite the gaud and the glamor of performing each emotion, he isn’t able to really speak for himself, to open his mouth and say what he really thinks or feels.

This could be read as an Emanator!Sampo who is restricted directly by Aha Themself or is hiding his identity for safety reasons, an Aha!Sampo who is restricted by the Primum Mobile or the effects of a mortal form, a Doll!Sampo who, for whatever twisted joke, is unable to voice his true identity as a creation of Aha, or even a general Sampo who has been so constricted by the Elation for so long that all he is capable of doing is going along with the masks, the “performance,” unable to truly figure out how to express himself genuinely, if at all.

Here are some other examples of Sampo’s exaggerated expressions, because damn, this man has range:

Again, I really want to point out the movement of his eyebrows, mouth, and body language. He’s not only expressive with his face, but his hands and legs and chest. Every part of his body seems to be an extension of performative emotion, performative confidence, carrying through that close link with the Elation. He is also very smug, like he knows something we don’t at any given time.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ CONCLUSIONS ⌝

Overall, I feel like Sampo’s idles and expressions scream “smug confident performative powerful entity” (try saying that five time fast lol), which fits both Aha and Their Emanators to a T. He very much operates in the “extremes” of emotion, never able to truly sit somewhere neutral, somewhere free from the Elation. His confidence speaks to power, to longevity, yes, but it also speaks to a mask, an almost unwilling need to constantly perform.

His expressions further solidify the extreme performance of it all, the almost stereotypical level of ups and downs without truly settling at a neutral. Thus, it would make sense for his identity to be more closely intertwined with the Elation than that of simply another Masked Fool — he seems too constrained, constricted by that winding snake to breathe. This is a state I would associate closer to Aha, an Emanator, or a Doll, as those beings would be closer to the “core” of Elation (and thus, compulsory states of being), the true constriction of a winding snake. 

Honestly, this all just made me feel worse for Sampo; it seems like the guy truly can’t catch a break. It may not even be that he’s choosing not to show genuine emotion or that it’s hard, but rather that he can’t do it at all. Depending on how far up the theory chain we go, an Emanator! or Aha!Sampo may be so rigidly constricted by the nature of his existence that he physically can’t show the kinds of emotion he truly wants. It’s no way to live, that’s for sure. I wonder if that’s why he’s constantly clad in bones.

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ જ⁀➴ thanks for reading to the end!

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© analysis by sunderingstars. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[littlest-w01f]

Taverns

For @polyacotarweek

Poly Acotar Week 2024 Masterlist

Day 4: Adventure

Summary: Eris and Rhysand find out that Rosalie hasn't had quite the sex life. They plan to change that.

Cw: Blindfolds, MxFxM, Oral M receiving, Fingering, Spanking, Smut 18+ MDNI

The music was loud as the three lovers were in a private room of their own in a traven they frequented. Rosalie was on her knees, a pillow between her knees and the hardwood floor for comfort. Her breathing was shallow as she felt two pairs of hands on her, her mates. She nuzzled in the hand at her cheek, knowing from the softness it was Eris.

Eris had done the courtesy of telling Rhysand that she had quite a reserved life while growing up, not permitted most things, and Rhysand, ever the kind mate had the idea of showing Rosalie some wild sides of their worlds.

Hence here she was, blindfolded with a black cloth, hands obediently on her lap, the music from outside, soft teasing touches from her mates all over her body causing goosebumps all over her skin, making the hair on the back of her neck rise up.

"Are you sure about this, little fox?" Rhysand asked, undoing her updo to make her hair fall over her shoulders.

Rosalie nodded wordlessly when Eris stroked her chin with his hand, "Words, my fox."

"Yes," Rosalie breathed and Eris took the chance to place his thumb on her tongue, smiling and watching her instantly wrap her lips around him to suck.

As the music played, it seemed to envelop Rosalie in its sensual embrace, causing her heart to race and her breath to hitch as they continued their exploration of her body. The sound of their voices whispering sweet nothings against her ear, combined with the soft caress of hands, only served to heighten her arousal further. Her body quivered between them, every nerve ending alive and aware of the pleasure being bestowed upon her.

She was drenched in the wetness of desire, her red lace soaked through, the fabric sticking to her skin like a second layer of skin. The scent of her arousal filled the air around them, an aroma that was both intoxicating and enticing.

"My my, aren't you excited." Eris taunted, watching her squirm for friction while on her knees.

"Do you rember the safe word we decided?" Rhysand's hands were on her corset, unlacing and clipping it off, throwing it somewhere uncaring.

"'Red'" Rosalie responded, something easy enough for her to remember for her first, as she did, Rhysand cupped her breasts in his hands, gently kneading and rolling her nipples between his fingers while also giving them a playful pinch.

"Good girl," The Night male simply responded, biting down on her shoulder.

With the blindfold taking away her ability to see, everything felt electric, making her gasp and moan softly, Rhysand was behind her, chest to back as he played with her body, Eris stood tall in front of her, using his shoe to nudge at her closed knees, "Spread."

She spread her legs as Eris removed the pillow from under her, "Think you can keep up or does one of us has to chain you?"

Rosalie shuddered as Rhysand bit at her sensitive ears, whispering, "I'd be glad too,"

"I think I'll be ok," Rosalie confirmed, burning in anticipation.

"Good," Eris smirked, watching her balance on her toes with her legs spread wide for him, his eyes on the damp patch of lace that covered her.

Rhysand, noting his stare was quick to rip the fabric of their mate, making her gasp at the air softly, leaving her exposed and vulnerable between the two males. With a soft chuckle, Rhysand pulled away from her ear, moving down her body to her thighs. He took one leg in each hand and spread her legs further apart, revealing her wet slit to Eris. He couldn't help but give it a gentle smack, the impact sending shivers of pleasure throughout her body.

"Did you like that?" Rhysand gave her another gentle spank to her wet folds, making her quiver lightly, Eris watched her with a grin, the way Rosalie twitched in efforts to not move as Rhysand wrapped an arm around her waist, caging her arms in.

"Yes, yes..." Rosalie gasped out as Rhysand groaned in satisfaction as he slipped two fingers inside her tight, wet cunt. He used his thumb to rub against her clit, causing her to writhe against him. The sensations were intense and added to the overall pleasure she felt. Her mate continued to fuck her with his fingers, his movements becoming faster and more frantic as he worked her up into a fever pitch of need and desire.

Both their pants grew tighter with hearing her moans as Eris burned away their clothes, amber eyes black with lust, a matching look in Rhysand's eyes.

Eris approached her, fully hard cock in hand as he stroked it, his hard cock throbbing in his hand as he guided it towards her lips, "Open up for me, my little slut." He gave her a small push, encouraging her to open her mouth wide enough to take his entire length. As she did so, he thrust his cock into her mouth, burying it deep within her throat.

Rosalie gagged lightly at the sudden full thrust of his cock in her mouth as Rhysand held her still, hand still buried in her cunt, playing with her and stretching her.

Rhysand groaned in approval, Eris' cock slapping against her tongue as he continued to work her cunt with his fingers. Eris continued to fuck her face, his cock filling her mouth and throat as he pumped in and out of her. He could feel the resistance of her throat, the tightness of her grip around his cock, and he loved every moment of it.

"Fuck, Rosa, you look so hot." Eris panted, finding his rhythm with his thrusts as Rosalie licked and sucked his cock while he moved.

Rhysand kissed her neck and shoulders, marking her skin as she did, watching Eris' cock go in and out of her mouth, "Such a good girl you are, Ro, so good." He kissed over her cheek where the imprint of Eris' cock formed when he pushed in.

"I love how you suck my cock like this." Eris' pace quickened as he grew increasingly harder and more desperate. He could barely stand the feeling of her hot, wet mouth around his cock, and he needed release badly.

Rhysand's hand worked to stimulate her as she tried her best to rut against his hand, he smirked feeling her tense up on him, "Are you close?" When she sends down a wave of affirmation down their bond Rhysand pulls his hand away, chuckling to himself. Moved his now-drenched hand to his lips while making eye contact with Eris and took his fingers in his mouth, sucking her arousal clean.

Rosalie whines in disappointment and that causes Eris's hips to stutter more while watching Rhysand, his final string breaking and he let out a loud groan as he came, spurting his seed into her mouth. His cum shot out in a torrent, splattering against her tongue and the insides of her mouth. The taste was salty and bitter, as she drank him whole, sucking for more, scenting him on herself, he just wanted to feel her warmth and wetness around his cock. He kept fucking her face until he was spent, emptying his balls into her mouth before finally pulling out, his cock covered in spit and cum.

Rhysand let go of Rosalie and she wobbled lightly on her toes, caught on nothing and all she could hear were the sounds of sucking. Rhysand had taken Eris's cock in hand, licking and sucking over his lover's length to clean him on his cum and her saliva, with a small kiss to his head he pulled away.

Eris was breathing heavily as he knelt in front of Rosalie, "Oh you poor thing," He tutted, "Did Rhys really not let you cum?"

Rosalie nodded, earning a pull on her hair from Rhysand, "Come now, I was just playing," He smirked, landing another spank on her sensitive cunt.

Rosalie twitched at the impact, gasping softly when she felt fingers on her cunt again, warmer, Eris', push in, "Oh, Er..." She sighed in slight relief.

Rhysand pinched and rolled her clit between his fingers as Eris had his buried deep in her warmth, rubbing against her inner walls, she moaned and whimpered between them as they picked up the pace with their hands, the sounds of kissing right by her ear making her tremble.

Eris' tongue thrust into Rhysand's mouth, tasting the remnants of himself as they both brought their mate over the edge. Eventually, after several minutes of stimulation, Rosalie cried out in bliss, her body trembling with pleasure as she came. Her face contorted in ecstasy, and her mouth opened wide in a silent scream of pleasure as she climaxed, pressed between her two males.

With a final peck, Rhysand pulled away from the kiss, turning his attention to the female who had fallen limp on Eris, her breathing rough, "Fuck, so pretty," He groaned, stroking her clit through her orgasm, having her trembling as Eris held his fingers still in her, kiss the crown of her head, using his teeth to pull away the blindfold on her eye.

Rosalie blinked a few times to adjust to the light in the room, smiling when her eyes met Eris', "Hi..." She offered softly and Eris smiled, pecking her lips, greeting her back.

"Yeah, yeah, very sweet." Rhysand spoke from behind her, putting pressure on her lower back to make her arch and present her quivering cunt to him, "I'm going to take you now." He kissed over her shoulder, leaning over her completely, landing a hand fast on her ass.

With her slight nod of approval from being buried in Eris' neck, Rhysand plunged into her wet cunt fully, he couldn't help but feel the warmth of her body enveloping his cock, the sensation driving him wild with desire. He started to fuck her with fervour, his cock slamming against her walls with each powerful stroke.

Rosalie squirmed in Eris' arms, holding her for Rhysand to take mercilessly. He simply chased his own high, using her like a cock sleeve.

"Oh god, your cunt feels amazing," He groaned, his voice full of lust and need. He continued to pound into her, his cock seemingly never tiring or slowing down. Each time he hit her sweet spot, he felt a sharp, electric shock course through his body, through her pleasure that he felt down the bond, making him all the more determined to keep going. "Does my cock feel good, little Fox?"

"Yes... Yes... YES." Rosalie cried, trying to push back on him, Eris groaned softly watching them, biting on her neck to mark his spots too, Rhysand laughed, his cock still buried deep in her cunt as he too began to pound into her. He was eager to claim her as his own, and his cock slapped against her inner walls with each brutal thrust. The sound of skin colliding with skin filled the air, punctuating the rhythm of his fucking as he continued to drive into her.

Eris reached his hand between them to stroke her clit, murmuring praises on how well she took Rhysand, wanting to bring her over another high.

After what seemed like an eternity of fucking, Rhysand finally reached his climax with a growl, his cock pulsing with the force of his release as he came inside her. Empting into her cunt, his cum mixing with her juices as he pounded into her. Rosaile's body shook with the intensity of his orgasm, her own following his, her cunt contracting around his cock, holding him in.

Rhysand fell on her, taking both Rosalie and Eris with him, the two males gave gentle kisses to soothe her, Rhysand pulling out gently, watching his cum leak from her ruined cunt.

"That's a good girl." Eris cooed softly, stroking her hair, "You took us so well."

Rhysand pulled them both up, laughing as Rosalie wobbled on her knees, grabbing her instantly, "I've got you love," He smiled, holding her close, "I've got you."

Rosalie smiled sleepily, "Can we go home and cuddle?"

"After we clean you, yes." Eris pushed her hair out of her face, followed by a gentle kiss to her forehead.

{General taglist- @nox-ceur @sonics-atelier @lilah-asteria}

{Eris taglist- @fxckmiup @amygdtjhddzvb @slut4acotar}

[fandommadnessthings]

STEP RIGHT UP FOR TMOM THEORYS!!!

Decided to add my mix of theorys in this post. I've got a lot of questions but with little to answer, I mean it's a good thing I got like a lot of questions! It keeps me guessing and engaged! The best thing about it is feeling like MatPad finishing up the script to the 100th FNAF theory

This entire post is mostly TMOM theorys that I and everyone else has come up with, yet, there mostly questions but I hope this can be... entertaining enough!

And this font is way more easier to read tbh

• The demi gods put Zielo to sleep •

In the old description for Zielo it reds that no one actually knows what happened after the fall yet it's rumored that a demi god put Zielo to sleep. It does make sense that no one actually knows what happened after, they weren't there when it happens

But you know who does? Chaos and Sol

Both are apprentice of Heephis and Celios so it makes sense they pay witnessed to what happened, and the fact that they fear him not just he's now a huge threat [well yes] but it's someone they know. You may even say there like family or even friends to a certain level

But once Zielo becomes tainted there's only one thing they can do. They don't actually have the power to kill him so why not put him a sleep? Not just any sleep, a deep slumber

One of the pages in issue 14 shows Zielo being surrounded with these cyan orbs, cyan orbs that has his tainted name version on it

Zielo in this image looks hurt with cyan tears flow down his muzzle + a sad or even a hurt expression in him, presumably the moment he killed Heephis and Celios. It's still not know who these figures are but it proves the fact that he was put to sleep by someone, definitely Chaos and Sol to prevent any further disaster. Stalling some time for the sons of Heephis to be found

• How was sin made •

The story said that once sin was born it spreads out like a plague, what no one failed to mention is that it said it was "born", which means something or someone could have made it. Now who could make something so powerful and deadly that even a God can get affected by it?

Correct answer, a nother God! This image is just for visuals I can clearly see that it's a planet he's holding

Since there's only 3 in TMOM we can easily narrow it down to Heephis. He's the oldest out of his brothers and a powerful leader nonetheless. It would make sense that he has the power to make sin, but why? Why would he make something that can tear everything apart? His creations, apprentice and even brothers has to suffer through his choices

I don't think I have any solid clarification on why, but there is an alternate way we can think this through!

The universe must be in balance, good and bad are both sides of the same coin, one can not exist without the other. So what if he created sin as a balance? But it backfires too much that even he was affected by it. Think of it like a symbiot. Latching to it's host as it slowly grows bigger enough to devour it's host in return

This can follow up as to why Heephis was the first to become tainted, sin spreads like a plague or a dieses. The only way for it to spread is if it's come in contact with anyone else

This is just some thoughts I put into it

• The triple S are the secret to Zielo's weakness •

Eggman had this weird stone in the hologram projection. It's obvious that it's the gods symbol, yet it looks like it's fuse to one. The only thing that's different is that there's a dot in the middle

Now I don't think this has any significant whatsoever but it could mean "one spot" or "the core". Something that's center or maybe at one place. Now I know a lot of this doesn't make much sense and that could be just a regular dot to make the combined god symbol look cool or smt

But pay in mind that the symbols are like at one place, overlapping each other. This isn't the first time we see this particular symbol fusion

In issue 11 we got to see more indepth of the inni piramid. One of the panels shows the same image as the rock that Eggman was holding

I bring this up cause the description for that page was a "spoiler" by Gigi

We can see what presumably happened with the fall and the image of what might be the process of putting Zielo to sleep. This is all like a prediction. The ten commandments from the bible something like that

Yes it has to do with the triple S, as the only way I can think of a way what this all means and the fused symbols is that in the name. "Fused". Steven universe style!

Maybe they have to combine there souls to one? They are 100% made by heephis's lifeform, just split to 3, Zielo having to take small bits of it could also mean that he does not want them to actually fuse to become a super god. I think

Having them become the weakness of Zielo could make sense. The only way to kill a God is a nother God. I had this in mind when I was watching wonder woman. The live action one ofc. The god killer isn't the sword she weld, but herself, she's a god, so are the triple S. Even if it's partly there soul that Zielo took bits of it. Which gives much reason as to why they have to fuse to fully have a "complete" god soul

Just for y'all to know I still have more theorys on my notes. Might update them once I finish organizing them

[the-nysh]

Sorry my bad english. I have a theory. Bomb and Bang are brothers, but they practice different fighting styles. Some people believe that Bang inherited his style from his ancestors, and Bomb himself developed the iron-shattering vortex fist. But it seems to me that these two styles could be the legacy of the ancestors of Bomb and Bang, because they can interact and strengthen the blow from a joint attack. But to learn both styles you need to be very gifted. Therefore, Bang, as a younger and hot-tempered one, taught the fist of the mountain stream - to balance his character with harmonious flowing movements of a more calm style. And Bomb, as an older and sensible brother, began to learn a more aggressive whirlwind breaking iron, so that his soft nature did not interfere with being effective in battle. And I think Garu is one of the few who can master both of these styles at the same time. Maybe I don’t remember everything, or I don’t understand everything, but it seems that the Master hinted that Bang used to be unrestrained and named him Demon Silver Fang (when he was in the hospital).

!!! :O A theory about the brothers' two different specialized styles balancing their temperaments and why Garou's able to wield both? (Because he's not only a gifted fighting genius, but also because he's both inherently soft and hot-tempered that learning/mastering their two techniques comes most naturally to him? Like he's the perfectly balanced combination of traits for it to work?) Hang on, I like that thought! Just give me a moment to get some supporting panels... (Also, I checked what Tank Top Master said in the hospital about 'Silver Fang's Demon,' and he was referring to Garou! Describing how Bang ended up raising a 'demon'. :O)

Although we don't know where the two techs originated from, Bang and Bomb seemed to have developed/created/mastered them individually (and then created schools to pass them down, but there's no info on who their previous masters were). Perhaps they developed the two techs to augment their own weaknesses, or to complement the traits the other brother lacks (offensive vs defensive), but even when brought together, we've seen how cooperative they still are (compared to say, the esper sisters), even balancing each other further in a combined joint attack, the Cross Fang Dragon Slayer Fist. Which yee, has been noted a single person normally cannot perform alone, yet here Garou is breaking the impossible, literally dual wielding both brothers' techniques with his two hands to perform their combined special joint attack all by himself:

Through all his harsh experiences on top of his natural gifts, he's able to take everything he's learned so far even further and evolve them all into his own style later (Godslayer Fist), aha what a beast. :'D

From the two brothers' sides though, we get some history and explanations for their techniques here (wc ch111) when King visited their dojos for guidance.

Bang's words are cautionary, and he explains he originally developed the defensive Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist (specializing in counterattacks and redirecting an opponent's blows back at them) to empower the weak. We get a tease of young Bang, who likely had similar hot-driven goals as Garou, and whom was also in pursuit of power. It's unknown how 'weak' young Bang (thought) he was, but it's apparent Bang is actually very strong (no.3 Hero with enough notoriety to his name that young Garou sought him out for strength too). So it seems there was an unfortunate (unbalanced?) disconnect with Bang imparting the wisdom & principles of his technique down to his students. Because at his old age, you'd think he'd have plenty of loyal successors (beyond just Charanko), but here Garou was the only one to successfully learn it. :O Whether that was because Bang was a poor teacher or Garou naturally picked it up on his own, it's debatable, but Bomb's notably had hundreds of students in comparison, so interestingly he didn't have Bang's same successor problem...

And speaking of Bomb, his offensive Whirlwind Iron Cutting Fist is a specialized attack technique that's most powerful when unleashed as a preemptive strike. We don't know as much about him as Bang, but as the older brother between them, perhaps Bomb is more chilled and down to earth. We know Bang also called upon Bomb's help in confronting Garou so that Bang wouldn't accidentally lose control in anger, so Bomb was essentially Bang's failsafe to ensure the job responsibly gets done. So even just from that, we can see how the brothers support and balance each other, covering for their weaknesses together in both temperament/attitude and fighting techniques.

Makes it even more amazing what Garou's able to naturally pick up all on his own, that even just experiencing/observing their fighting styles on himself, he's able to refine what he already knows (mastering Bang's defensive tech even more after fighting him himself) and adapt additional techniques upon that, like Bomb's offensive one, further into his arsenal. Whether it's because Garou's simply a fighting prodigy, or also because his character combines softer/fluid traits along with sharper/aggressive ones, making him most receptive (and naturally/uniquely qualified?!) to wielding both their techniques at once is certainly a nice thought!

[viridwns]

Phantomhive mom!AU

Other parts

PLATONIC! Phantomhive twins x MOM!reader

A day out

warnings: Unhealthy relationship, toxic behavior, misogyny, yandere themes, mentioning of abuse A/N: This is if the fire didn’t happen and Alois had an actual dad. 

It was finally, finally Saturday. Today was grocery day, the day you were finally allowed to go outside. This day was perfect: The sun is shining, the birds are chirping and your two sons’ are both walking along side of you, each having one arm linked with yours. The day was almost perfect. You sighed, if Vincent wasn’t motoring your every move while clinging to you, it were your twins. Even if you thought you had a bit of freedom, one of the three knew how to take it away from you. You pursed your lips as your eldest son walked to a flower stand. The old lady smiled upon seeing the three of you, probably recognizing that you were family of the earl Phantomhive. “Ah, Mrs.Phantomhive and sons. What a pleasure to see you here on such a fine morning.” She greeted, her voice was raspy and her face was wrinkled. Her wrinkles only multiplied when her smile grew wider. “Likewise miss.” You greeted back, giving her a swift nod with your head as it was hard to curtsy with your sons holding you tight. “So what could I get for you today?” She looked in between the twins as Ciel was tapping his chin while looking around. Your younger son was also looking, but less obvious. You were just standing there as you had no idea why your eldest son wanted to buy flowers. “That bouquet will do.” Ciel pointed to a gorgeous bouquet filled with orange lilies, red tulips and yellow roses. It was an odd combination, but the flowers complement each other nonetheless. The lady nodded as she picked up the bouquet from it’s basket. Ciel accepted them with a smile, giving her some money with his other hand. “Have a nice day!” She cheered as your younger son bade her farewell. The three of you entered the stream of shopping people again as you looked around for a fruit stand, you really craved some grapes right now. You oldest son gave you a small shove in the side and you stumbled a bit. “Ciel! What was that for!” You scolded him as the younger twin helped you regain your balance as he glared as his brother. “Don’t do that to our mother, you know she hates it.” You gave a small smile at your younger son and gave him a small pat on the hand. “Thank you my sweet.” You said to him. Ciel rolled his eyes as he stretched out his hand with the flower bouquet in it. “For you, mother” You turned to look at him again and raised your eyebrows. “So you have to push me around first, before giving me something nice? You become more like your dad by the day.” You huffed as you accepted the flowers, the smell hitting your sense of smell like a truck. Lilies have a very strong odor. Ciel laughed as he squeezed your arm. “I am sorry mama, I won’t do it again.” You shake your head at him. “You better, I’ll leave you behind and walk further with [redacted]. He knows how to treat his momma right.” You joked and laid your head on your younger son’s shoulder. He gave you a sweet smile and stuck his tongue out at Ciel, which made you laugh. “Oh? Is that how we’re going to play it? Don’t you love me anymore mother? Am I your least favorite son?” He dramatically pouted at you as you spotted a fruit stand. “Yes, now let me buy some fruit before I get grumpy.” You held the flowers to your chest as your eldest let out a gasp and gave you a look of betrayal. You rolled your eyes and unlinked yourself from the twins and walked over to the stand. Ciel hooked his arm with his brother as they admired some jewelry that another stand sold. The owner of the stand looked you up and down and gave you a classic ‘I am going to try and get you to buy everything’ smile. “Well, well, well. What an honor to have the mrs.Phantomhive here at my stand.” You let out an awkward giggle as you forced a smile. “What can I get the pretty lady today?” He continued his salesmen flirt technique and you looked over the different, multi colored fruits. Completely ignoring the man as you know you’d get in trouble for even looking at him too long. “Could I get a scoop of grapes, 5 apples and a handful of berries, please.” You look up at the owner expectantly. He nodded as he got some napkins and began to scoop up some grapes and weighed it. He continued to do that with the apples and the berries before finally putting everything in a small basket and giving it to you. “That’ll be 5 gold m’lady.” He stretched out his hand to indicate that you could put the money in it. You nodded and reached out in the small bundle around your middle you always carried with you outside. Vincent always gave you some money too as to give you at least a bit of independency. You gave him the asked amount and bade him farewell. You looked over to the stand where two people were selling jewelry, but to your confusion, no sight of your twins. You cocked an eyebrow. Was this some kind of test? To ‘prove’ you won’t escape when giving the least bit of freedom? You squinted your eyes and looked around you while walking over to the stand. Your sons were fairly tall, taller than Vincent even though he’s quite small. Even without the height, the two of them would stand out nonetheless due to their navy hair color and striking blue eyes. You held the basket with both of your hands as you kept switching to stand on your heels and toes. They weren’t going to trick you, you knew Vincent would give them assignments to keep you on your toes, but not this time. You weren’t foolish enough to make a run for it. Your escape plan wasn’t finished yet, you have come this far and weren’t going to throw it all out the window because an opportunity has presented it to you out of the blue. But when a few minutes had passed, your stomach began to gnaw at you. Maybe they really were gone? Or are they just trying to lure you in? Questions began to swarm your mind as you dubbed to actually leg it, but those ideas were soon cut short when someone tapped on your shoulder. The feeling made you yelp and turn around swiftly, expecting to see your son Ciel smirking at you, but instead a handsome platinum blonde male smiled down at you. Your eyes widened as you frantically looked around. Coming in contact with a person other then your family was never a good thing. You backed away slightly as he opened his mouth. “Are you lost miss? I noticed you standing here for quite a long time.” He spoke with honest sincerity. His eyes were filled with worry as he tried to ease you with his charming smile. You had trouble trying to reply to him, being scared if you even said one word, Vincent would pop up out of nowhere and take you away again. “uh—I am fine, just waiting for someone.” You hoped your answer would drive him away, but instead of him waving goodbye at you, he closed in on you. “Oh well what kind of gentleman would I be to let a lady wait alone.” He laughed and stuck his hand out. “I could carry your basket for you if you want?” He asked. You were still looking around and noticed no blue haired male lurking, your shoulders eased up a bit. You were still on guard, but dared to continue the conversation “that is kind of you sir—” You stopped your sentence as you handed over you basket of fruits and gripped your flowers tighter. You didn’t know his name yet. “Sir Trancy, pleased to make your acquittance lady—” Now it was his turn to stop as he gave you an awkward look. You smiled and finished his sentence. “Phantomhive.” Your smile immediately vanished as you had to say your surname. His expression turned into one of shock as his mouth fell slightly agape. “Ah, I should’ve known earl Phantomhive already married a beauty like you.” Your eyes widened at his complement, if Vincent were here right now, he’d have his head. A small blush crept onto your cheeks and you laughed of your embarrassment. Even though you knew this was wrong, you continued to converse with the male. He was also an earl and had his own land. He also had a son called  Alois, he sounded like a real sweetheart. You laughed at his jokes and the heavy ring on your finger that always burnt into your finger to  remind you to whom you belonged too, slowly faded away and for the first time in years you felt like yourself again. No one monitoring your every move, no rules you were expected to follow, no punishments hanging around your neck for doing the smallest things. You genuinely smiled and the longer you looked at him, the more you noticed how handsome he was. His sharp jawline, his bright blue eyes filled with joy unlike the dark hues of your husband. His gentle smile as he treated you with respect. You were falling and for a moment you really thought you had a chance with him. A man with equal power as your husband’s. A man who could protect you and take you far, far away from this hell. A man whom you could fall in love with. In that very moment you wanted to tell him everything, tell him how horrible your life was, how your husband kept you locked up and how your sons were like shackles around your feet. But before you could get it out, he told you something first. “You know, how about I take you out sometime. As acquittances, Phantomhive doesn’t need to know.” He proposed to take you out on a date. Was this man out of his mind? Everyone knew not to meddle with something that was Vincent’s. But he dared to ask you out, in public nonetheless. And that’s the moment you thought you could actually escape, but a gloved hand grabbing your shoulder snapped you out of your wonderful fantasy. Your breathing became ragged as you looked over your shoulder to see a smiling Ciel, you let out a small yelp as his grip on your shoulder was bruising. Tears started to build up in the corner of your eyes as you accidently dropped the flowers, not that you noticed it anyway. You were too focused on your eldest son busting you talking, no, no, flirting with another person. Another male. Your throat fell dry as he began to speak. “Mother! There you are, we’ve been looking all over for you!” Fake excitement and surprise laced his words. His gaze wasn’t fixated on you, but on the earl in front of you, a scowl replaced his smile and his eyes darkened. “Earl Trancy.” He spat as he pulled you back, making you stand behind him. He let go of your shoulder and you sighed in relief, but it was short lived as another, much gentler hand was placed on your shoulder. It was your younger son. “Ah Phantomhive twins, pleasure to see you here today.” The friendly smile of the earl dropped and he raised his brows at them, his tone of voice being the exact opposite when talking to you. “What were you doing with our mother?” Ciel questioned the other male and you began to sweat. Your body was slightly shaking as you watched the males converse with one another. Trancy shrugged. “She looked lonely, I just kept her company like a real gentleman.” He was mocking them. Tears threatened to spill as you prayed this wouldn’t escalate into something violent. Ciel scoffed. “Well thank you for your service but my brother and I will be taking our married mother back to our house.” Your younger son picked up the bouquet you dropped and smiled as he gave them back to you, patting your shoulder as he linked his arm again with yours. Ciel ripped the basket of fruit out of the older male’s hand and turned around. He took your other hand and gave it a harsh tug. This pulled you out of your frozen state and made you start walking with them. Trancy waved you goodbye, but you didn’t even dare to glance back at him The trip back home was unnervingly silent. The tension hung thick in the air as Ciel had a look of raging anger on his face and his brother had a more worried expression. They were walking quite fast and you had trouble keeping up. When you tripped for the umpteenth time you finally had the courage to speak up. “Ciel! Stop walking so fast, I can’t keep up!” You whined as the grip on your wrist only tightened. He stopped in his track as turned around to look at you. He scowled. “We trust you enough to leave you alone for a few seconds and our dear mother is already selling herself like a whore to other man. To that bastard Trancy nonetheless!” His voiced dripped with venom and  you visibly flinched back due to his harsh words. He had never called you something like that. His sharp tongue was enough to make the tears you were holding spill over your cheeks. A small sob ragged itself from your chest and your other son looked at you with pity. “Ciel! Don’t say that, you’re hurting her!” He took your head in his hands and wiped away the tears, you hiccupped as you looked into [redacted[‘s eyes. He had a soft shine in them and tried to smile at you. “He doesn’t mean it mama, he was just scared that that man would take you from us. But of course you would never do that.” He shushed you as your older son scoffed. “Our dear dad does anything in his power to keep you safe, well fed, happy and so much more. He gave you everything and you so much as speak to another man.” You didn’t say anything back, scared that you would make everything worse. You continue to sob and shake as the younger twin tried to console you. Ciel’s expression softened as he saw your scared state. Tears still flowing from your eyes as you couldn’t do anything to stop them. He took you from his brother’s hands and tugged you into his chest. “Oh I am sorry mama, I was just so angry that you were talking with father’s enemy. You were probably so scared and worried. He forced you to talk to him, no? Not letting you walk away?” He questioned, you were lying if you said yes, but lying was the better option right now. You nodded into his chest. “I- I am sorry for worrying the two of you.” You said, your voice shaking. Ciel pulled you out of his embrace and wiped your tears with his gloved thumb. He gave you a quick kiss on your cheek. This would be a cute gesture to anyone whom was looking. A son being affectioned with his mother, but you knew the truth and you wished others did as well. He took your hand again and your other son did as well. The rest of the walk was a bit more calm, you hoped they wouldn’t snitch on you or at least make it seem like Trancy was forcing himself on you and you were just a helpless maiden. But no matter what they would say, your trip to the market would be stripped from you as you could clearly not handle being outside. This was enough to keep you crying all the way home as your sons’ whisper sweet little nothings in your ear.

[shurisneakers]

if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!

a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry. also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj

warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist

Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.

“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.

“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”

“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”

“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”

“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.

“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”

“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”

“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”

Ah, fuck.

“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.

“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”

“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”

Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.

“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”

“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.

____

“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.

“What could I possibly get you?”

“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.

“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”

“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."

“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.

“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”

He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.

“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”

He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.

“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically.  “Top tier comedian right there.”

“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”

“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.

“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.

“It’s none of your busi-”

“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”

His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.

“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.

“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.

“I’m literally asking you.”

“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.

“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”

“Like Pandora’s Box?”

“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.

“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.

“Sir, you’re a geriatric."

“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.

“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”

He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”

“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”

“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”

“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”

“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.

“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”

“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”

“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.

“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.

“I want this to get over before this evening.”

“What time’s your date?”

“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.

“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”

“Five o’clock, now let go.”

“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.

“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up. 

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.

“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.

Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.

“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.

“I told you; bad luck in a box.”

“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”

“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”

He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.

“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”

He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.

“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.

“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”

He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.

____

Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.

He isn’t used to having his weekends free.

He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.

His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.

It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.

The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.

He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.

He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.

He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.

“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.

They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.

He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.

The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.

Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.

He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.

Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.

He was sure he picked it up.

He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.

This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.

Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.

His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.

“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”

“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.

See? Good luck.

He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.

He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.

He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.

He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.

He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.

He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.

“Is everything okay?”

Fuck.

He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.

“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”

He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.

He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.

He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.

He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.

His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.

Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.

The box.

He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.

Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.

He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.

Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.

He fucking trips again.

“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”

He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.

Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.

No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.

He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.

There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.

There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.

There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.

The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.

Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.

The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.

He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.

“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.

He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.

“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”

Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.

The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.

It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.

The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.

Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.

The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.

He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.

Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.

Motherfu-

He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.

“James?”

“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”

“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.

“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."

“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.

“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.

“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.

“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”

“You must be really dehydrated."

Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”

He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.

“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”

He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.

“I, uh,-”

“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.

“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.

His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.

However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.

He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.

“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.

“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”

He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.

“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”

“She mentioned that you like movies.”  He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”

It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.

He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.

But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.

He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.

“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”

Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”

He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.

He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.

He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.

Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.

It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.

Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.

He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.

He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.

Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.

The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.

The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?

His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.

The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.

When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.

There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.

He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.

But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.

The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.

“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”

When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-

“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”

“I need you to fix whatever this is.”

“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.

There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.

The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.

The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.

He should have known. He should have fucking known.

Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.

In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.

It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?

There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.

It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.

But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.

He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.

The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.

His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.

“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”

He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”

“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.

It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.

“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.

“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”

“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”

He hesitates. “I guess?”

“Was she nice?”

“Yeah.” Where was this going.

“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”

“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”

“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”

“Just fix it.”

“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.

He waits for you to do something.

You flick him on the forehead.

“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”

What.

He says exactly what he’s thinking.

You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”

Huh?

“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”

He’s confused.

“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”

“The shoelaces?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”

His face scrunches in puzzlement.

“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”

He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.

“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”

“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”

He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.

“What about the fucking geese?”

You pause for a second. “The geese?”

“And the elevator.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”

“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”

“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”

“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”

He nods briskly.

“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”

“Perfume?”

“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”

“It wasn’t an inator?”

“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.

“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.

“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”

“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?

“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.

Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.

“Wait here a second.”

You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.

“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."

He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.

You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.

He reluctantly extends it towards you.

“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”

You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.

“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”

“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”

“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”

“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”

“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”

He scoffs. “Thanks.”

You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.

He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.

“Bucky.”

He turns around.

There’s a hint of a smile on your face.

“Take the stairs.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Next part

[erictmason]

“BOUND FOR FREEDOM, YEAR FOUR, DAY TWO: “Cool”

“The Coolest Manga That Never Was”

Previously on “Sonic the Cool”!

With the re-activation of Metal Robotnik nearing, Sonic and Sally launch one last desperate attack on Snively’s underground fort, hoping that their combined Chaos Triggers will be enough to awaken the Golden Power and finally bring down the oppressive Machine Imperium once and for all.  But the odds are against them, and the enemy is closing in...

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX: “Love On The Battlefield!  True Heart’s Confession!”

As Sonic and Sally make their way deeper and deeper into the fort, Sally observes that it is their emotions which drive the Chaos Triggers, and thus, if they’re to have any hope of using them to summon the Golden Power, they must make sure their feelings are in harmony.  Sonic seems oddly hesitant on that front, to Sally’s surprise; they’ve always been so in sync, why would things be different now?  When she tries to get an answer, however, the two are waylaid by Snively’s new enforcers, SWAT-Alpha and SWAT-Gamma.  

From his control room, Snively delights in this development: a chance to test his newest machines, and a perfect way to stall Sonic and Sally until he can reactivate Metal Robotnik!  Once that happens, not only can the Imperium resume its conquest of Mobius, but Snively will finally have his chance to investigate the secret of how Metal Robotnik gained his all-powerful Robotic Form....

Sonic and Sally clash with Alpha and Gamma, but while their Triggers allow them to hold their own, they find themselves frustrated: the SWATs are working in perfect unison, but Sally continues to find herself out of step with Sonic!  It’s so unlike them, and she can’t understand what the cause of it could be.  Realizing their dire straits, Sonic speeds them to a more isolated part of the fort to buy them some time to regroup,  Sally demands to know what secret Sonic is keeping from her, but again Sonic hesitates; he tells Sally it’s something he isn’t sure he can say...something he’s not sure he can truly understand himself.  But Sally reassures him that doesn’t matter: they’re partners, they can share everything together!  

Just then the SWATs catch up to them, launching a dual attack that manages to knock both of them off-balance.  Things look bleak; their Triggers are both running out of energy, while Alpha and Gamma prove perfectly in tune on the battlefield.  Realizing how badly his own hesitance is hurting them, Sonic finally reveals the truth: ever since Sally nearly died pulling the Sword of Aeons free, he’s come to understand just how much he really cares about her, and it scares him; what if these new feelings damage their bond somehow?  What if instead of bringing them closer, it pushes them apart?  In the end, however, he knows he can’t deny the truth.  Even as the SWATs threaten to kill them, he tells her that truth: he loves her, completely.

Suddenly, their Triggers become re-energized, and fall into perfect sync with each other, enhancing their powers even further.  It allows Sonic and Sally to fully vanquish the SWATs, and for a moment they both wonder if this might in fact be a glimpse of the Golden Power.  Even as they continue heading into the heart of the fort, however, Sally lets Sonic know: she loves him too, and there’s no one she’d rather have on her side.  

Next time on  “Sonic the Cool”!  

Metal Robotnik Stirs!  A Dark Message for Snively!

((Something a little different this time!  I basically decided to do a Fake Chapter Summary for a Hypothetical “Sonic” Shounen Manga inspired directly by Patrick Spaziante’s “Manga Universe” ideas from way back when, since I think more than a few of us who saw that thought it was just The Cooles.. XD))

[mionemymind]

Chapter 9: The Truth

Fake Memories

Series Summary: After Y/n is caught cheating on Wanda with Carol, Y/n would do just about anything to get Wanda back into her life. But was it even Y/n’s fault that she cheated? Or was it the new enemy set on revenge?

Chapter Summary: The after effects of the attack on New York have changed everything for the Avengers, Wanda, and Y/n. 

A/n: I have managed to write this all within one day. I’m sorry if there are any mistakes but please let me know your thoughts love :) (Not my GIF)

Warnings: Fighting, Hydra, Blood, Mentions of Death, Anxiety, Curse Words

Word Count: 4.9k

Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 |

Covered in ash, dirt, and dried-up blood, Steve was a walking disaster as he paced through the hospital waiting room. Well, if you would call it a hospital that is. It’s been less than an hour since the Avengers have controlled the fires in New York but the troubling news of Y/n and Wanda brought them to a halt.

They quickly rushed to the “hospital”, which was just an empty leased building before being revamped into a hospital for this emergency. The walls were made up of light green curtains. You couldn’t even separate the blood-curling screams from down the hall to the one next to you.

“Stop pacing Rogers. You’re making my head hurt,” Tony said as he sat next to his suit. He had managed to borrow one of the hospital’s tablets to see if there were any updates that could remotely be done to the tower. So far, no luck had been made to reboot F.R.I.D.A.Y or power up the building in general. “Don’t tell me what to do,” he bit back.

Before Tony could say anything, Natasha lightly elbowed him in the stomach to keep him hushed. Now was not the time to start fighting especially at a time like this. “Are you any closer to powering up the tower?” She asked. If Natasha was nervous, she sure as hell didn’t show it. While the assassin did have a similar beat-up look like Steve, her composure was almost too relaxed. However, if Steve cared to notice, he could quickly see how big of a lie that was but his mind was only focused on the two youngest Avengers.

On the other side of the building lied Wanda and Y/n. The only thing separating those two was the thin green curtain and the team of tired nurses and doctors that surrounded them. And while the two have been closer before, this was the first time in a while that they both slept peacefully by each other. It didn’t matter the circumstances of how they slept, but rather what they dreamt...and it was of each other.

“What do you think we would have been like if we lived normal lives?” It was a late afternoon on a sunny day in spring. Wanda and Y/n laid down in the grass under a tree that shadowed them from the sun. Today was one of their off days and seeing as the weather was nice, the two felt like it was a perfect time to go to the park.

“Well, we would obviously attend school.” Wanda was lying down on her back with a dandelion in her hand as Y/n laid on her side, using her left hand to support her head. “I can honestly see you as being the popular person or maybe even the President of some type of political club.”

“What makes you say that?” The soft breeze that covered them came once again, which blew the pappis away. The small frown on Wanda’s faced made it hard for Y/n to focus but she still responded, “You just have this powerful aura to you, Wanda. When you talk, people listen. But what you do better is how easy it is for us to believe you. That’s something not a lot of leaders can do.”

“You make it sound like I’ll be the next President of the United States,” Wanda replied jokingly. “I wish.” Wanda pushed Y/n back slightly as she laughed but all Y/n did was smile at the action. “But what about me? What do you think I would be like?”

Putting her finger to her chin, Wanda thought for a moment before saying, “Honestly, without your powers, you are probably a film nerd at heart. Maybe just a nerd in general.”

“Hey! Now you’re just being mean.” Wanda rolled her eyes as she threw away the dandelion stem. She turned her head to face Y/n. There was this adoration in her eyes that quickly made Y/n blush. “Who cares. All I know is if anyone decides to mess with you, they’ll obviously have to go through me.”

“Oh, so you’re telling me the President of the political science club is going to come to my rescue?”

“Duh! I’ll probably yell at them or something. If not, I’m not afraid to get nasty.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“How’d you let them get away?” Fury said as he walked into the hospital that Y/n was at. The man was not in his finest hour. First, the mass destruction of New York city was blasting on the news. Reporters and anchors are not looking in favor for the heroes regardless of the actions they’ve taken to try and minimize the damage. Many were angry at the mere fact that this happened at all.

“Someone on their team had quickly teleported them to safety,” Carol stated. The girl has been feeling nothing but guilt for the past hour. Although she did save Wanda and Y/n, the state she had found them in only did worse for her thoughts. “Even if I did try to catch up to them, the lack of response from Wanda and Y/n meant something. I probably couldn’t have faced them alone if I tried.”

Before Fury could have walked any further into the building, Carol grabbed him by the arm, forcing him to look at her. “Her ears were bleeding Nick...I think they did something to her head again.”

Wanda woke up with a slight headache, the dream vaguely on her mind. As she started to grasp her surroundings, she only grew more confused. “Where am I?” She thought. The loud beeping beside her combined with screams and loud thoughts overwhelmed Wanda. Feeling the need to get out, she quickly started to remove the various wires on her as the recent events caught up to her. “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to lay back down,” the nurse asked kindly.

“Where’s Y/n?” Wanda almost lost her balance as she stepped off her bed. She used the nurse in front of her to regain her balance, before walking out of her “room”. “Ma’am, I’m not going to ask again, please lay back down or I will have to get security.”

The threat was the last thing on Wanda’s mind. All she could focus on was finding Y/n. Using her powers, she closed her eyes and tried to sense where Y/n was. Considering the girl was right beside her, it didn’t take long for Wanda to find out.

Quickly walking over to the side of her room, Wanda pushed the curtain to the side but the sight in front of her made everything stop. There was Y/n, battered and bruised. There was drywall dust on her face along with dried-up blood. “Y/n,” Wanda whispered in disbelief. Much to Wanda’s dismay, Y/n didn’t respond. She remained unresponsive on the bed.

Reaching out to try and hold her hand, Wanda was pulled back by the same nurse. “Ma’am, please let the doctors and nurses do their jobs while you go back to your bed.” Wanda shrugged off her hand, her eyes glowing red as she said, “Don’t.”

Wanting to be by Y/n’s side, Wanda tried to walk towards her again but Steve’s voice made her stop. “Wanda.” Turning back around, Wanda first noticed just how beat up Steve was. His helmet was off which made Steve oddly look like a raccoon. If times were different, maybe Wanda would have laughed. Instead, she stormed out of the room, feeling more overwhelmed.

“I’m sorry about her ma’am,” Steve said with a courteous nod.

Wanda sat on the ledge of the roof. The slight breeze of the night was coursing past her as she mindlessly fiddled with her fingers, a nervous habit she developed after her parents’ death. It was during a harsher breeze that Wanda touched her forehead where the slight open injury was at. She had left the floor just moments ago and somehow her feet led her here. Although she knew that she needed someone to look at the injuries she sustained, her mind was focused elsewhere. It was plagued with thoughts about the girl that was still entrapped in a room full of doctors that had no clue how to treat her. Wanda knew it was wrong of her to read their minds, but she hoped that at least one of them at least knew where to start. Panic and anxiety filled the redhead’s body the more she realized that no one knew how to help Y/n. Soon, the room felt as if it was enclosing on her. Before Steve realized she was about to break down, she left to sort out her thoughts and emotions.

Wanda had been so deep in thought that she hadn’t noticed Carol leaning against the entrance of the roof. The blonde was only a couple of feet away from Wanda wearing black sweatpants and a shirt. The girl was wrapping up a mission when she saw the text from Y/n. Carol didn’t know whether the drop in her heart was from the fake feelings Memory Man had created or whether she genuinely cared about the girl’s wellbeing. It didn’t matter though. What mattered was Y/n’s safety.

Carol leaned up against the ledge while surveying the view. They were a foot away from each other but it didn’t take a mind reader to know that both girls were thinking about Y/n. Ironically enough, they each had their separate thoughts about how they failed to protect Y/n. For Wanda, she felt as if she was the sole reason that Y/n got hurt. If she had only conquered her abilities more, Y/n wouldn’t have had to sacrifice herself again just to protect her. Not only that, but Wanda felt beyond frustrated with herself for being so frozen and paralyzed as the enemy hurt Y/n right in front of her eyes. There was nothing holding her back besides herself and that was something that will haunt her for a while. For Carol, she felt that if she were just a bit faster and maybe not a galaxy away, she would have reached them in time to help.

After a couple of minutes of silence, Wanda sidely glanced at Carol. The first thing she noticed was her attire. It didn’t take long for the dots to connect before she realized that it was Y/n’s clothes Carol was wearing. Wanda bit her tongue at the ounce of jealousy and resentment that decided to rise within her. This was no time to start arguments especially with the person that helped Y/n just in the nick of time. So Wanda had opted for a different but just as difficult route. “Thank you.”

Carol heard but decided to remain silent. Clearing her throat, Wanda continued, “I’m not sure what would have happened if you hadn’t found us.” Finally, the two made eye contact as Carol glanced at Wanda. “I’m only here for Y/n,” Carol deadpanned. Wanda choked at her words but still had a serious composure. They both looked back at the city but there was a more tense feeling in the air. Carol hadn’t cared if the words had hurt Wanda. What she cared for was Y/n. But the looming question in the back of her head was always if this was a genuine feeling or if it was forced. However, the way her heart overwhelmingly felt angered at the person beside her, she knew that at this time, the feeling was genuine.

Subconsciously, Wanda felt the emotions that leaked out of the blonde. She didn't need to go in her mind to realize that. It felt like Carol’s guard was down leading her aura to be seen. It had covered the area surrounding the two in such a suffocating manner that Wanda felt like she couldn’t breathe. The two most compelling emotions were the anger she held for her and the love she had for Y/n. As she cracked her knuckles, Carol muttered, “It is quite ridiculous the things Y/n continuously goes through for a team that can barely return the favor.”

“You don’t get to-”

“Now listen here. I don’t quite care much for your team. Frankly, y’all don’t deserve Y/n.” The two faced each other with such intensity that one wrong move could cause a fight with two of the galaxy’s most powerful superheroes. “But if I’m being honest, you don’t deserve Y/n.” Wanda’s fists clenched at Carol’s words. It took everything out of the redhead to not fling Carol out of New York, because how dare she accuse her of such atrocities.

“If I were you, I would stop where you’re at,” Wanda said threateningly. The spiral scarlet glow in her eyes only made Carol chuckle. “You know you’re not the only one with powers.” Carol’s fist glowed with the same intensity as Wanda’s eyes. But the threats were pointless as the two had stopped at the same time.

“You don’t see it but you should feel lucky Wanda.” Cocking her eyebrow, Wanda responded with, “And why is that?” The redhead remained in a defensive stance as she crossed her arms. Carol walked closer to her and placed her hand on Wanda’s shoulder. Wanda was still tense but it slightly faltered when she saw how serious Carol was. “There’s a girl out there that loves you even when her mind and heart tell her otherwise.” And with that, Carol left Wanda to herself.

The burning feeling in his legs shouldn’t have felt familiar but it did. It reminded him of the body that he held through New York’s streets. It reminded him of the blood all over his hands and clothes. It reminded him of that fateful night that he failed.

And as he stormed into the hospital with nobody in his hands, something in the way that the team looked made his blood drain. Before Bucky could ask about Y/n’s whereabouts, Beth had walked in. Seeing her familiar face caused Bucky to be slightly relaxed but still anxious about what she could possibly say.

“I have an update on Y/n’s health.” Carol had walked into the room and her attention immediately landed on Beth. “Tell us, Beth,” Fury said.

“As of right now, she will be fine. The doctors have her hooked up to a solution that is allowing her regeneration abilities to work. But-,” before Beth could finish her update, Tony had stood up and loudly commented, “- Great, now that we know Ms. Hydra is okay, can we get back to the real issue at hand?”

As Carol was about to advance to Tony, it was Beth’s words that made the room quiet. “Of course it would be the self-righteous billionaire that would talk shit.” Tony’s head snapped towards Beth. “Excuse me?!”

Beth glared back at Tony, not daring to back down. Her arms were crossed as she continued, “Don’t act like you can’t hear me, or is your ego too far high for you to actually listen?”

Walking towards Beth, Tony said, “Listen here you son of a-” Before Tony could get any closer to Beth, Bucky had used his arm to stop him. “I wouldn’t if I were you.” Tony forcefully removed Bucky’s hand from his chest. He stepped away from Beth, not wanting to deal with what he thinks of as just some pathetic nurse.

“You know what the real issue is Tony - actually - all of you. It’s the fact that you seriously think of Y/n to be this villain.” Beth had let out a dark chuckle at the irony of the situation. “Or have you forgotten the shit you’ve ALL done? Let’s name them, shall we?”

“Beth-” Beth glared at Bucky. She didn’t care if this wasn’t the time nor the place for this conversation, because God was she so tired of them. “Tony, remember all the weapons that you’ve created for mass destruction and have yet to actually own up to the consequences of them?”

“I would stop there if I were you before-”

“Before what?!” Beth said as she threw her hands up. “Before you sue me?! Before you attack me?! Oh - that’s it, isn’t it? What are you gonna do? Kill me? Like how you did with Y/n?!” The room grew more silent as everyone besides Bucky and Beth digested her words. “It’s honestly sad how a bunch of adults has managed to push a KID to take their life away. All for what?! Because you thought she cheated on Wanda! News fucking flash - she didn’t even fucking cheat.”

“What?” Steve said. The shock of Beth’s words was still affecting him. “It was Memory Man. He had put fake memories in Y/n’s and mine’s heads. That was the whole reason we kissed - wait - did you not know about this?” The team was frozen while Carol and Fury impatiently waited for answers.

Not caring to wait for their pathetic excuses, Beth said, “It’s not like it matters what they have to say. They don’t even care for Y/n but for those that actually do. Right now we have no clue what her mind is going to be like. Memory Man has already given her enough damages before and considering we don’t know the full extent of his powers, we can only wait till she wakes up to see if she will actually be okay. Now if you don’t mind, I have a patient to take care of.”

Before Beth could leave, Bucky grabbed onto her arm. He gave her a look but Beth wasn’t having any of it. Ripping her arm from his grip, she stated, “Don’t Bucky. You know how much your family has hurt her. So don’t just stand there and act like they’re saints especially since you know how much Y/n needed you.”

It’s been a couple of days since the attack in New York and Y/n has since woken up. She has barely spoken to Beth, Bucky, Carol, or Fury. Although Estell’s presence would have been welcomed, Beth has yet to tell the girl the news of Estell’s death. Unfortunately, during the attack, she was shot and killed on sight by Hydra. The only reason Beth knew was from the long list of deaths she read on TV.

“We need to transport Y/n to a different location,” Fury said in a small meeting that consisted of only Bucky and Carol. “I agree. Since Hydra has managed to infiltrate the tower once, who knows when they’ll do it again.”

“That’s why a different country will do her better than here.” Fury sighed at the decision that was laid upon them. New locations will always be hard to adjust to but that wasn’t all of it. “Wanda will remain as Y/n’s guard.”

Abruptly standing from her chair, the loud screeched filled the room. “Are you serious?!” Fury’s expression didn’t change as Carol only grew with rage. “She could hardly take care of herself during the attack. What makes you think she could possibly take care of Y/n?”

“The girl was simply outnumbered. We all were.” Moving to get the file that was beside him, he slid it on the table. Bucky grabbed it and had started to silently read it. “But I need the both of you on the front lines. After what Beth has said, I need you two to make sure that the team is actually doing their job. They were supposed to have found out about Hydra’s plans before the attack, now I’m starting to think they didn’t even try.”

Carol was still angry at Fury’s decision to which he sighed. “You will know of Y/n’s location at all times. I will let her have a remote that when activated should send you a signal. Since you’re back on Earth, you’ll get to her in seconds.” Carol sat back down in her seat. Although she was still mad at Fury’s decision, she felt better knowing that Y/n could signal her for help.

“Now, I need you to say your goodbyes for now. Y/n leaves in an hour.”

Wanda stood in the foyer of the hanger as various agents loaded up the quinjet with materials that she and Y/n would need for the time they were gone. She was informed of the last-minute decision just moments ago by Fury himself.

“Please take care of her.”

The words echoed in her head as it had been the only time she’s seen Fury actually care deeply for somebody else. Before she could ponder more about it, Beth had interrupted Wanda’s thoughts. “Wanda?”

Turning around to the source of the sound, Wanda stood in front of a young blonde woman with intense eyes. “I’m Beth,” she said as she held out her hand. Wanda reluctantly shook it, not quite sure as to who this lady actually was. “I’m Y/n’s friend.”

“Great, another pretty girl I have to worry about,” Wanda thought. “Well, I’m also her nurse but I think she would consider me her friend as well.” Wanda stood awkwardly not really knowing how to respond.

Using this opportunity, Beth handed Wanda a bag full of medicine and vitamins. “I know this will be a lot to ask of you but could you please take care of Y/n?” There was no doubt in Wanda’s mind that this girl in front of her meant well. The nurturing feeling in her aura surrounded Wanda.

“That girl has been through a lot and I would know.” Confused by the intensity of her words, Wanda couldn’t help but ask, “How do you know this?”

“I’ve been her nurse for a while now.” This news only confused Wanda even more. “Was she injured before the attack?”

“What is it with you guys and not knowing a single thing about Y/n?” Beth thought. She started to get irritated at the thought of another Avenger hurting Y/n. She could only hope Wanda was different from the rest. However, Wanda heard Beth’s thoughts and said, “What do you know that I don’t?”

Beth scoffed at the question and replied, “The truth.” The simplicity of her answer made Wanda internally roll her eyes. Whether she admitted it or not, she had started to feel territorial over the fact somebody else knew Y/n better than her.

“Wanda let’s go!” Fury yelled from afar. The two looked over and saw Y/n hug Carol, Fury, and Bucky goodbye. Oddly enough, she looked emotionless when she did it. “Just please don’t fuck up again.” Wanda didn’t answer respond back to Beth because if she did, something bitchy would have probably left her mouth. Instead, she walked over and into the quinjet. She buckled into the seat closest to Y/n but the girl didn’t give any attention to Wanda. She remained silent and focused on her hands for the whole ride while Wanda thought more and more about what Beth meant.

“Now that we’re all here let’s get started.” Fury turned on the projector and the first image the was on the screen was New York on fire during the attack. “So far, we’ve received word that there have been 125 casualties and approximately around 500 critical injuries suffered from the attack.” Click.

“However, we face a bigger number when it comes to those that are currently missing. Estimating from 600 - 1000 people are found to be missing. And since we have efficiently cleared the rumble from the damages, our sources have found out how they’ve gone missing.” Click.

Footage of the event was playing but in the location of the subways. One by one, explosions could be seen in various parts of different train passages. It didn’t take long for Hydra soldiers to infiltrate the train systems but all camera footage cut to black. “Hydra has effectively taken hostages of those that were on the train during that night. They have used bombs to blast any chance of us going after them in these tunnels.”

“Is there a way to locate the subways?” Steve asked. “Since New York hardly invests in their transportation department, they are unable to track any of their subways. More than likely, Hydra has already disposed of them in case they were to be tracked.” Click.

“What we need is to figure out where these people have gone. This many hostages taken is something we cannot allow. And considering we have hardly been able to figure out their plans before the attack, I can only assume the worse when it comes to this.” Fury turned the projector off and continued his speech.

“Bucky and Carol will be removed from their current missions to assist the team with this situation. There will be absolutely no complaints about this. Any signs of lack of cooperation, I will gladly remove you and ban you from missions indefinitely.” Fury looked around the team once more and felt disgusted at the people he has to work with. Giving them no time to reply, he left the room not being able to stand the sight of them anymore.

Since they were dismissed, part of the team left in a hurry until it was down to three people. Tony was about to leave when Steve said, “Are you going to apologize to Y/n?” The question was genuine and serious because ever since that night, Steve had been unable to sleep. All he wished he could do was apologize to Y/n but the girl refused to see him. Unfortunately, he understood why.

“Why should I? It doesn’t change anything.” Steve stood up and slammed the table with his hand. “We killed her Tony.” Tony walked in front of Steve. “I didn’t do anything,” he sneered.

“Steve. Tony. We need to calm down,” Natasha said as she watched the two go at it. “Don’t act so mighty Natasha. I heard you bullied the girl too.” This comment caused Natasha’s jaw to harden. “Aww, did I hit a nerve?” Tony childishly asked. “Oh fuck off Tony. There you go again bringing other people down when you can hardly accept what you’ve done. YOU took away Y/n’s funds. She couldn’t even afford anything.”

“But you watched me do it, Rogers. You could have done something too yet you let it happen. So don’t patronize me. Nothing of what she said changes anything.” Tony quickly left the room as he felt himself explode in anger. This didn’t even surprise Steve anymore. He was tired of keeping the family together when it was clear now that it was meant to be apart.

“Here we are,” Wanda said as she dropped her bags in the living room. Looking at her surroundings, the flat was a decent size. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen, living room, and accommodations on the floor below them.

“So what do you-,” Y/n hadn’t responded to Wanda’s question as she zoomed past her and walked into her room. Softly closing the door shut, Wanda sighed at her reaction. It wasn’t a surprise but Wanda still couldn’t help but feel hurt by it all. “I guess I should start unpacking.”

It’s been a couple of weeks since Y/n and Wanda started to live together in the flat located in the small town of Edinburgh. While Wanda mainly kept the place tidy, Y/n remained in her room all the time unless it was to use the bathroom or to eat. The only time she would even dare to be close to Wanda was during dinner. If it was breakfast or lunch, Y/n would take what Wanda cooked for the day into her room.

But Wanda was stubborn. She always left Y/n little notes of her whereabouts anytime she left for an errand but a small compliment would always be at the end of it. Sometimes she would knock on Y/n’s door and ask if she would want to watch a movie with her. Obviously, Y/n never answered but Wanda continued to ask. Other times, Wanda would think of Y/n’s favorite foods and would cook them for dinner that night. And while Y/n had never said it out loud, the empty plate she left in front of her always made Wanda swell with joy.

However, tonight was going to be different. Usually, the two would sit in silence as Wanda would have the tv playing in the background but Wanda needed to hear Y/n’s voice. Not only that, but she was hoping that the truth would come out as well.

Trying to figure out a way to break the silence, it was oddly Y/n that had done it first. “Why don’t you hate me?” At first, Wanda was shocked that Y/n had actually spoken, but the girl regain her composure and said, “Why would I hate you? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Y/n was silent for a moment until she said, “But I killed your brother.”

Chapter 10

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[cononeillbreastingboobily]

If Lucius is the heart, Izzy is the brain

There's been multiple takes about how Lucius is the heart of the crew of the Revenge. Now, I started thinking, what other organs different characters could be, symbolically. This post focuses on Lucius and Izzy, and how they compliment each other, both as people, and as parts of the story.

Things could change drastically when the next seasons of the show arrive.

Lucius: the heart

Let's get the easiest one out of the way: Lucius is the heart of the Revenge, and of the story as well in some regard. He mostly deals with feelings, relationships (I'm fantastic at breakups) and art (Have you ever been sketched?). His main function on the ship for most of season 1 is recording what the crew gets up to in a journal that managed to save Stede's skin in episode 9. Recording memories, whether it's by writing diaries, taking photos, scrapbooking etc. has an air of sentimentality to it, so that further proves that he's definitely the heart of the story.

He's also extremely well-versed in the matters of emotions - he's able to read someone with stunning accuracy, learning what makes them tick. And he doesn't necessarily resort to manipulation to get what he wants! Okay, sometimes he does (Has anyone ever told you you have stunning cheekbones?) but when it comes down to it, he's genuinely nice, kind and protective of those he holds dear. He's trustworthy, and he uses that trust for good: helping others when they're in need. He's quite hedonistic and self-serving at times, avoiding hard work like the plague, but he always has other people in mind - he's the one who retrieved Jim's dagger, called out Ed for not appreciating Stede (that bizarre little man likes you very much) and finally, he's the one who whipped out the journal Stede had him write at just the right moment, and read just the right passage from it, which, combined with an intervention from Oluwande, culminated in Stede being pronounced a real pirate captain, and avoiding being executed by the firing squad.

Izzy: the brain

I'm not sure if you'd agree with me or not, but this made more and more sense to me the more I thought about it. He's juxtaposed with Lucius many times over, and that alone can really make you think, can't it? He can be cold, manipulative, calculating. He's task-oriented (Edward, focus) and seems to be disconnected from his emotions a lot of the time. When Ed can't bring himself to kill Stede, he immediately offers to do it for him. We know that back in the day, Izzy would do the killing back when Blackbeard was active, as Ed says the only person he's ever killed was his father (whether that's true is debatable in my opinion, buuut). So, for anyone else killing another person would be something horrible to do, the absolutely last resort that would leave them traumatized, right? For Izzy it's just another Friday.

He's incredibly driven and doesn't do well with obstacles in his way. Stede, and the entire crew of the Revenge, is one big obstacle for him - it's keeping Blackbeard from re-emerging, so they could go back to what he considers the "good old days" of maiming, looting and killing, back when he was at the side of his fearsome, legendary captain.

I think that putting these two together, while also opposite each other, works incredibly well for one big reason: just like the heart and the brain in the human body, the story needs both of them to truly work and be in balance. I mean, listen - the moment Lucius was off the ship, Ed went back to his Blackbeard persona, even though it doesn't really fit him anymore. It wasn't when Ed came back without Stede. It was when he threw Lucius overboard that things truly went to shit. And before Blackbeard and his three companions came onto the Revenge? The story was a silly comedy about a guy who tries and fails very hard to be a proper pirate captain. And while that definitely has its charm, there's no doubt that with Izzy around we got some real piracy on our hands.

Though they seem like two very opposing forces, I think there's actually sooo much more at play, that could happen in the future iterations of the story. I think if we got to know more about Izzy, we would learn things that could prove, that he and Lucius are a lot more similar than he would like.

All of that is to say, I think that if we want Ed and Stede to get back together, it won't happen unless Lucius comes back. I think that even if Ed and Stede do meet at some point in season 2, they will have trouble seeing eye to eye until Lucius is there, whether to actually intervene or just to be around, really. Only then will the story regain balance. It needs both Izzy and Lucius. Too much of just one won't do them any good. They need to work together, and whether they will realise that is an entirely different thing.

[thatfanficstuff]

Absent-Minded Kisses - Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Minors DNI. Smut, including but not limited to: unprotected sex, locker rooms, excessive usage of Fuck

A/N: Celebration Summer #17. Combined two requests for this one. One was Sleepy early morning kisses and the other is the two prompts in bold. I kind of love this one. Enjoy!

wc: 2037

***

It was so early. So, so early. You weren’t even certain why you were up other than you didn’t like your best friends heading out on mission without you there to say goodbye. That, and you knew neither of them would bother to eat if you didn’t feed them. Which is how you ended up at a table with Bucky and Steve watching them eat in silence while you sipped at your coffee.

You noticed that for once, they both seemed to be just as exhausted as you. Normally, they were bright-eyed and making fun of you for lagging behind. Not that they’d do that when you got up oh-god-it’s-early just to feed them.

Steve leaned back in his seat with a sigh. “Thanks for feeding us. Remember, we’re going dark as soon as we leave the tower. You won’t hear from us unless there’s a problem until we’re on our way back.”

You nodded in acknowledgement. You didn’t like it, but you understood.

Steve stood and finished off his coffee. He put the mug down and glanced at Bucky. “We’ve got to go, Buck.” He left without waiting for a response, patting your shoulder on the way by.

Bucky nodded as he finished shoveling his eggs into his mouth. He washed them down with his coffee then stood. He smiled down at you. “Thanks for taking care of us, doll.”

You returned the smile. “It’s not a problem, Bucky. Be careful.”

He braced one hand on the back of your chair and the other on the table as he leaned over you. “Always am, sweetheart.”

“Buck, come on!” Steve hollered from down the hall, making you laugh. It was like this every mission.

Bucky shook his head with a roll of his eyes. Leaning forward, he pressed a firm but swift kiss to your lips before hurrying after his best friend. “See you in a week,” he yelled over his shoulder as he went.

You hadn’t moved since Bucky’s lips had left yours. That wasn’t the kind of relationship you two had. You were friends. That’s it. Not that you hadn’t wished for more on occasion, but you’d never dare make a move. But he’d kissed you. Kissed you like it was nothing. You took a deep breath. It probably was nothing to him. Just a tired thank you. An absent-minded gesture.

You ran a hand down your tired face as you stood to clear away the plates. “Damnit, Barnes,” you muttered to yourself as you over thought every interaction the two of you had ever had.

***

“You okay?” Steve asked as he kicked the side of Bucky’s foot.

The brunet’s head jerked up, his brow furrowed. “I feel like I forgot something important, but I can’t think of what it might be.”

Steve shrugged. “It can’t be that important then. Quit stressing.”

Bucky nodded absently, his mind running over everything he’d done as he prepared to leave that morning. Suddenly, he froze and bolted upright. “Oh no. Shit.”

“What?” Steve asked, his friend’s tension affecting his own stance.

Bucky simply stared at him with wide eyes. “Oh God, Steve. What did I do?”

“I don’t know, Bucky, what did you do?” Cap asked, feeling slightly amused.

“I kissed Y/N.”

His brow lifted in surprise. When did this happen? And why did it take Buck so long to remember? What the hell happened after he left the table? “You did?”

Buck hopped to his feet and started pacing. “What if she didn’t like it? What if she did? What if she’s pissed? What if—”

“Bucky,” Steve said louder than necessary. “Calm down. There’s nothing you can do about it until we get home.”

***

The week passed slowly as you waited for Bucky to come home. That stupid, simple kiss was tearing you up inside. Obviously, it was just a friend thing, right? Like, he was just moving your friendship to the next level. He’d kissed the top of your head or your forehead before. This was no different, right? But what if it was?

And it was that what if that had you in the gym working on the punching bag. Because the truth was, you very much wanted it to mean more than friendship. That, even though he was tired, he’d done it because he thought about kissing you all the time. You were terrified that he wouldn’t bring it up. Even more terrified that he would, only to assure you that it meant nothing.

Ugh. Stupid, super soldier. You released a series of punches and kicks on the bag trying to work out your irritation. Finally, you stepped back, panting as you attempted to catch your breath.

“Who pissed you off, sweetheart?” that honey rich voice came from behind you and you spun to find Bucky watching you with his arms crossed over his chest.

You smiled seeing him safe and whole and some of the tension in your chest eased. Without thought, you moved to him and hugged him. “Glad you’re back,” you told him as you stepped away. “Steve okay?”

He nodded and rubbed and hand across the back of his neck. “Yeah, he’s good.” He looked at you then down at the floor. “Listen…”

He trailed off and his cheeks flushed. You tilted your head and waited for him to continue. He sighed and his shoulders slumped forward. “I’m sorry about the kiss. I was tired and wasn’t thinking.”

Your heart shriveled just a bit with his words, but you really hadn’t expected any different. You tried your best to keep the smile on your face. “Don’t worry about it, Buck. It’s fine.”

His eyes ran over your face, probably trying to see if you were telling the truth. You gestured over your shoulder toward the locker rooms. “I’m going to hit the shower. I’ll see you later.”

Just as you turned away from him, a hand fell on your arm, stopping you. You turned slightly to look at him again. Those deep blue eyes seemed to see right through you. “Did you…did you want me to kiss you?”

He was worried about hurting you. You gave him a soft smile as your heart twinged then you repeated your earlier words. “Don’t worry about it, Buck. It’s fine.”

The corner of his mouth kicked up and he pulled you toward him. “Would you just shut up and kiss me already?” A moment later his lips found yours. This time you took the opportunity to savor it. His lips were soft but earnest as they moved against yours. His metal arm slipped around your waist to hold you close to him. His other hand threaded into your hair to hold your head in place. His tongue slipped into your mouth pulling a moan from you.

Finally. You leaned back just far enough to breathe. “Damn, Bucky.”

He gave you that grin that never failed to make you smile. It was infectious. He leaned forward and kissed you again. A firm but swift kiss that mirrored the first one he’d given you. “Missed you.”

You hummed in agreement as you fisted your hands in his shirt and pulled him back to you for another kiss. This time it was hot. Needy. Wanting. Bucky’s lips moved from yours to run along the line of your jaw, talking as he went. “Thought about you every day. Worried I fucked up. Drove Steve fucking nuts talking about you.” His lips traced the column of your throat before he licked his way back up to your ear. He tugged the lobe into his mouth to scrape it with his teeth. “Pissed at myself for not giving you the kiss you deserved.”

You whimpered. There was absolutely no other word you could give the sound that came from your mouth. Bucky groaned in response and squeezed your thighs. “Jump, baby.” You obeyed and he lifted so you could wrap your legs around his waist. He moved you across the gym and into the women’s locker room. He sat you down only long enough to strip your leggings from you, your panties following immediately after. A second later your legs were wrapped back around him as he backed you into a wall.

The cold tile did little to soothe your heated skin. Bucky’s fingers slid through your folds as he pressed his forehead to yours. “Jesus, sweetheart. You’re killing me here.”

You tugged at his hair and he hissed. Those blue eyes narrowed in warning and you tugged again. His lips found yours again, feeding, begging. Two fingers slid into your core and he curled them. You rocked against him and let out a half scream as he found that perfect spot. His mouth moved to your throat where he bit and sucked, marking you as his as he fucked you with his fingers. “Fuck, Bucky. I have never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly.”

He pulled his fingers from you and fumbled with his pants. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Finally, he freed his heavy cock from the confines of his uniform. Lowering the two of you onto the nearby bench, his hands wrapped around your waist to lift you up and positioned himself at your opening. “Tell me you want this, baby.”

You placed your hands on his shoulders to help balance yourself. You looked deep into his eyes and said, “Barnes, if you don’t fuck me right now, I will shoot you.”

He laughed and slammed himself into you with no further warning. You gripped his shoulders and arched your back. He was long and thick and it had been awhile for you. Your pussy ached where he stretched and filled you beyond anything you’d felt before. And god, did it feel good. You rocked against him to tell him you were ready and he immediately began to pump in and out of you.

Every movement sent jolts of pleasure straight to your core. That knot was already tightening, preparing to bring you a wave of ecstasy. Your hold on Bucky tightened as he hammered into you. This wasn’t love making, it was just a good old-fashioned fucking. This was the release of the tension that had been building between the two of you from the moment you met.

Bucky hissed. “Fuck, baby. I’m gonna cum. Cum for me, baby. Show me how much you need me. Soak my cock, baby.” His thumb found your clit and flicked over it as he spoke. The combination of the two was enough to push you over the edge. As your pussy clenched around his cock, he followed you over the peak.

You were both panting as you dropped your head onto his shoulder. He was still buried inside of you, but you weren’t inclined to move at the moment. Too happy. Too content. He pressed a kiss to your temple. “That was fucking amazing,” he said drawing a laugh from you. You leaned back to look at him and his hands settled on your hips to hold you steady. His thumbs rubbed on the bare skin he found beneath your top.

Looking down, you realized he was still fully clothed. “Well, this hardly seems fair.”

And there was that grin again before he kissed you slow and sweet. “What do you say, we move this to your bedroom and we’ll both get naked this time?”

***

The next morning you stirred, shifting on your sheets as you tried to figure out what had woken you. You smiled as you felt the soft kisses trailing up the length of your spine. Letting out a moan of contentment, you turned to see your soldier. He held himself over you and mirrored your smile. You laid a hand along the side of his face, feeling his early morning stubble. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey.” He leaned down to kiss you in a sweet good morning. Pulling away, he kissed the tip of your nose then pressed his forehead to yours. “I love you, sweetheart. Have for a while.”

“I love you, too, soldier.” You hooked a leg around him and shifted your position so you he was under you and you were straddling his hips. “Let me show you how much.”

[dazaimency]

Villain!Shoto x Villain!Deku x F!Reader - Villains Make Better Employers than Heroes (NSFW)

Request for dark_horiko3 (ao3)

Prompt:  Tags: soft Villains, dirty talking, bukkake, double penetration, overstimulation, And the story... Reader is a maid in Villains mansion and she's attracted to all two men who are living there. One day, they want to thank her for her hard work for them in a "special way~ ;]"

Word Count: 2.6k

Tags: dirty talk, double pen/threesome, overstim, blowjob, cunnilingus, maid!reader

NSFW, Crossposted from my ao3 collection HERE

Brushing the duster against the upper shelves, you hummed to the rhythm, nodding your head in sync with the tunes playing in your ear. Normally, you would sway and tap your foot but you had to balance the stool you were on, helping you to reach the higher ledge. Overall, cleaning the whole mansion could get stale quickly, and music helped you keep up and not fall behind.

Not that you were afraid of any punishments. The place was owned by villains but they treated you better than any of your previous employees. They were busy most of the time, often out on a mission or simply causing mayhem for multiple days before returning home, and so you were mostly alone, keeping the mansion spotless.

Sometimes, Deku and Shoto would keep you company, engaging in small conversations when you happened to have duties in their rooms or were cooking in the kitchen. You hadn’t been staying there for long when you realized you liked both of them, knowing how soft they could be under their steel expressions you only saw on the tv.

You tried to subtly express your true feelings to them, mostly by gentler smiles, by cleaning their rooms more thoroughly, and by cooking only the best meals you knew they would enjoy. Thinking that they would never feel the same, you forced yourself from putting too much emotion into your gaze, shielding yourself from their pity or harsh ignorance.

Sighing, you reached to dust the next shelf, only to lose balance and fall with a squeal. Expecting a harsh landing and pain, you closed your eyes but before you could envelop your arms around you, someone else had beat you to it.

Landing in the unknown saviour’s arms, you grip them tightly to ensure you wouldn’t fall. Surprised and relieved, you open your eyes to find yourself staring into a green ocean with just a wave of amusement.

“Are you alright?” Deku asks and puts you down carefully. You already miss his touch but you manage to gather enough composure to answer: “Yes, thank you!”

“Are you sure? You seem a bit off,” with a frown, Deku reaches out to touch your cheek, bringing crimson to your face, and you feel butterflies form in your stomach. “Don’t you want to take a break? With how hard you’ve been working, you for sure deserve some free time.”

“T-Thank you,” you stutter and aim for the nearby couch. To be truthful, you did feel a bit tired, so you sat down and popped the upper button open so you could breathe easier.

Deku sat down next to you, resting a hand on your thigh, rubbing soft circles with his thumb.

“You do realize you can take a vacation right? There is only so much you can clean in this house.”

“Not really, by the time I finish one wing, the other one is full of dust again,” you manage to get out, trying not to focus on his palm burning through your stockings.

“Well, my point stands, take some time off if you want, no one here minds a bit of dust,” Deku chuckles and shifts closer.

“Hey, look at me,” he guides your chin with his hand so he can look at you properly, “You sure there isn’t something wrong?”

Before you can reply, Shoto enters the room, stopping in his tracks when he sees the scene in front of him.

“She’s just flustered because you’re touching her, Midoriya,” Shoto sighs and sits down next to your other side. You turn to Shoto, shrugging Deku’s hand off in the process and shake your head in protest, hoping to save any dignity. “No! That’s not it!”

“You mean to tell me that you don’t want us? After all your hopeful gazes? After how you clean our rooms with more care than the others?” Shoto angles his head, playful spark in his eyes. He was enjoying putting you on the spot and making you squirm in your seat, especially after seeing you dance around them both with no plans to confess.

“Is that true, (Y/N)?” Deku asks, hand gripping yours tightly.

Knowing the truth was going to come out no matter what, you started to pour your heart out with a sigh. You tell them about your feelings, and how you crave their touches and soft looks. When you got to the point of explaining why you didn’t say anything to them, thinking that they would just laugh at you or even fire you, Deku interrupted you: “You should have just told us, Doll.”

You whip your head around, looking at the green eyes for the first time since you confessed. “D-Doll?”

“Of course. Did you think we wouldn’t feel the same?” Shoto agrees and starts to caress your neck softly. You sit there, letting it all sink in.

“We should make up for the lost time, right, Shoto?” Deku smiles slyly and stands up, grabbing your and Shoto’s hands to guide you to his room.

You find yourself sitting on the edge of the bed, villains on both of your sides. Your heart was beating fast, in expectation of what’s to come, and in joy that whatever it will be, it will actually happen. You’ve been waiting long enough and couldn’t wait a second more.

Pushing yourself up, you meet Shoto’s lips for the first time, entangling a hand in his hair. His mouth opens, letting you in, and your tongues intertwine. You feel him smiling into the kiss, enjoying the moment as much as you are. Closing your eyes, you melt into his lips and explore his mouth, tugging softly at his dual-coloured locks, forcing a gasp out of him from a particularly harder pull.

Not wanting to neglect Izuku, you end the kiss and reach out for him. He had been watching you both with a spark of interest in his eyes, taking in the scene in front of him. A surprised sigh escapes him when your lips connect but he gets over it quickly and pulls you down to the bed, revelling the way your body fits against his. His hands travel up and down your body, caressing you through your dress, getting to know your every curve.

Shoto shifts down and starts playing with the hem of your skirt, rubbing the fabric between his fingers before sliding under it, palming your thighs through your stockings. You moan at the unexpected touch, Izuku swallowing every sound.

Shoto creeps up your thighs, pushing them apart and teasing the sensitive area there through the soft fabric of your panties. Shocks run down your spine and you have to force yourself to breathe calmly after you ran out of breath from kissing Izuku.

Suddenly, Shoto’s hand pulls away and he starts to pull you by your leg, forcing a yelp out of you until you are sitting at the edge of the bed again.

“Impatient, huh?” Deku smirks and watches Shoto spread your legs. He starts to burn the fabric and in a second, all that remains from your skirt is smoke. Shoto shrugs at the other villain’s remark and pushes your panties aside, flicking his tongue against your clit.

With a hitched breath, you hold his head closely and you feel how both of you are growing hungry for more. His tongue penetrates you, getting to know your insides. You sense Shoto’s gaze on you, mismatched eyes studying your every sound of pleasure, figuring out the best way to hear more of your sweet moans.

Meanwhile, Deku got rid of his clothes and stands now in front of you, palming his erect cock, legs strained in expectation. Your hazed gaze lands on his length and you lick your lips.

“Now, how about you give some more attention to me?” Izuku's eyes are locked on your mouth and his strokes grow faster with each moan you let out. He guides his cock to your lips and you open obediently, giving its head a trying lick. You taste salty traits of precum on your tongue and you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks.

One of your hands grabs him at the base, stroking him where your mouth won't reach. You lick around his shaft before pulling back a bit for air, before diving in, longing to feel his heaviness on your tongue.

“Yes, baby, take it in. Suck my cock like I know you wanted.” Deku exhales, watching with wide eyes how you swallow his length.

Then you feel Shoto pushing two fingers into you alongside his tongue, making Izuku hiss when your teeth skim his sensitive skin. You lick gently the head of his cock in silent apology, while keeping your jaw in place so you won't hurt him again.

A good decision, as Shoto's fingers reach deeper and curl, brushing against your sweet spot. That, and his constant teasing of your clit, and licking around your tightening walls pushes you slowly towards your orgasm.

With a newfound vigor, you swallow Izuku's cock completely, his fingers scratching your scalp and digging into your hair. He groans out your name and bucks his hips until your nose is buried at the base. You hold still, not caring about your blurry vision and twitching legs.

Muffled moans escape you as Shoto adds another finger, stretching you out while keeping pressure on your sensitive spot. With a pop, you pull away and moan out loudly a combination of their names as waves of pleasure wash over you, bringing you over the edge.

“Good girl,” Deku caresses your hair, enjoying your expression even if his member is throbbing, asking for attention.

Shoto wipes his mouth and leans over to kiss you. With a clouded mind, you taste a bit of yourself on his tongue. You feel him push you further onto the bed until you sit in the middle, with Deku behind you. A set strong hands travel down your shoulders, getting rid of your dress as they make their way down to your breasts.

“You liked that, baby? Being eaten out while choking on Midoriya's dick?” Shoto mumbles against your lips and you feel your thighs clench at every word. You manage to nod, all sounds stuck in your throat when Shoto moves lower to place bites on your neck while Deku is exploring your chest, pinching your nipples in sync with Shoto's teeth piercing your skin.

“Can't wait to hear you moan as we both fuck you,” Deku whispers into your ear, giving it a gentle bite before licking around it. Your heartbeats speeds up and you lean into his touch, feeling his hardness poking your lower back.

Impatient, Shoto pulls away and gets rid of his clothes. Deku turns you around so you face him and lays you both down. Your hands end up at both sides of his face and you take a deep look at his messy hair, lips parted with heavy breaths.

“Do you think you can take us both, baby?” Shoto's deep voice cuts through your thoughts, leaving only his touches and words on your mind. Licking your lips, you turn your neck to meet his hungry gaze. You arch your back, leaving nothing for his imagination.

“Yes, now get on with it,” you purr, taking a little pride in the way it takes Shoto a moment to escape his clouded mind.

He shifts closer and lands a slap on your ass, then petting the redness gently, storing the image of you on your stomach, prepared for them to take you, in his mind. You look gorgeous with disheveled hair and dress hanging loosely around your waist. He thinks about the positions he wants to try and different ways to make you moan on his cock, but there will be time for it later. Now, he just wants to fuck you, like both he and Deku have desired for a while.

Shoto's length pushes inside you, immediately feeling your walls tighten around him. Your heat hugs him perfectly, and he starts to thrust harder to prepare you for Deku's cock. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good.”

You already feel the pleasure building up, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. Your hands grab Izuku's shoulders, nails digging through his skin, making him grit his teeth in both pain and satisfaction. He was watching you get pounded by Shoto's cock, breasts bouncing with each thrust.

“You take me so well... Think you're ready for both of us?” Todoroki's movement stops, and your moans with it. Deku guides his length to your entrance, slowly pushing alongside the other villain's member.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat at the stretch and for a second you panic that they won't fit. It stings a little when the head of Deku's dick pushes in. He stills, covering your neck and face in soft pecks. Shoto rubs circles on your back and thighs, soothing you where he can while controlling the urge to pound into you.

“Take your time, Doll. F-Fuck, you're... so fucking tight. I can't wait to fuck you, to give you what you deserve.” His words send electricity down your stomach to your clit, and once you try to buck your hips, Shoto slides out a bit, giving Izuku more space to push further. You moan out, any trace of pain gone, and the only thing on your mind are their cocks that will soon be fucking you without holding back.

Impatient to make the image a reality, you push your hips down, taking them both in fully, ignoring the slight burn that will soon disappear. The sudden movement takes them both by surprise, and they groan and still for a while, revelling in the way your walls became incredibly tight.

“Who knew you were so needy,” Shoto grunts through his teeth and starts pounding, spreading your ass cheeks, his nails leaving trails of red behind them. You can only moan as an answer, mind and vision cloudy from pleasure. Your head feels heavy and you let it fall on Deku's shoulder, biting down on it, silencing your sounds.

“N-No, let us hear you, baby,” Izuku stutters, hips bucking up into your tightness. He starts to make a trail of hickeys, placing them next to Shoto's marks. His hot breath only makes you more dizzy and you moan out lewdly, encouraging them in their thrusts.

Shoto picks up the pace, knees digging into the mattress as he chases blindly after his own release. Your tight heat is enveloping around him, sucking him in with every buck of hips. He looks down, seeing your entrance stretch around two cocks, the sight imprinting into his mind.

“Shit, I'm gonna come soon,” he groans and Deku grunts in agreement, also not far from the edge.

“Come on me,” you whimper. “Please, I wanna be covered in your cum.” Shameless, eyes closed, your hips stutter against theirs. You can feel your orgasm creeping in and you reach with your hand to touch your oversensitive clit, circling the pulsing nub. Relief washes over you and you moan out loudly, limbs going numb. You can only lay on Deku and take it, your walls hugging them both.

You feel them pull out and you moan from the sudden emptiness. They push you so you sit, Deku and Shoto kneel in front of you, giving their cocks a few last strokes before coming on your face with a moan, mixing curses and your name. With your tongue out, their cum lands on you, some dripping down but you lick and swallow what you can.

Utterly sore, you lay on the bed, both villains glued to your side, all of you catching breath. You cuddle, not bothering to do anything else for a while. Just before you doze off, you mutter: “I'm not cleaning these sheets.”

[junicai]

Relationship with Stray Kids

➣ CHAN ☾ dachan

daeun is chan’s baby and the fact that she’s only two years younger than him changes nothing 

really really dependent on his approval. especially on mixing during the first few songs for skz 

skz has a completely different sound to what daeun was used to, and changing her production style to mirror that was a challenge

there are a lot of clips in the first few episodes of the survival show of daeun sidling up to chan with a notebook in her hand

and them sitting beside each other on the sofa while they worked

you can find dozens of ‘Bang Chan doing the Proud Dad smile because Daeun existed’ videos on youtube

its a very common occurrence 

hence why daeun hates hates hates being told off by him 

its never anything serious 

but she always feels so guilty afterwards, and then she’ll cry and then chan feels guilty

and it’s a whole guilt-fest 

so daeun usually tries to avoid having to be told off

now that doesn’t stop her from telling him off

can and will drag him out by the ear if he stays in his studio for too long

that’s a lie

she’ll just stand in the doorway and pout until he saves his work down and leaves 

works every time

sorry but this man loves to pick her up? 

its a problem 

girl isn’t even hurt or tired just piggybacks 

always 

he said he likes to carry her because he knows that she dances in heels for so long so her feet must hurt more than theirs does

YEAH-

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

chan walks at the end of the group, we all know this. but the one time he wasn’t, was when daeun was the second last getting out of the van, and had to dip back in to snag the bag she had left behind. already three strides into the building, 

chan - upon realizing that he had seven heads in  front of him, and not eight - spun around in a circle, eyes wide and shoulders pushed back as he tried to peer over the crowds. when he spotted daeun, he took her bag from her hand, snagging her hand in his other one, and refused to let go of her until they made it safely into the venue.  

➣ MINHO ☾ mieun

actually attached at the hip?

genuinely

like, no one was going to peg the very intimidating and sullen looking-fellow with the bubbly bitch with pink in her hair and yet: 

✨besties✨ 

it’s comical 

minho’s dry humor perfectly balances with daeun’s unique blend of absolute buffoonery

 they have a lil tradition before they go onstage of exchanging bracelets

yes, they have matching bracelets

it was minho’s idea and yes, stays freaked out

it’s like a little, ‘see you on the other side’ thing

because lord knows daeun spent hours upon hours running herself ragged in practices until all hours of the night 

and minho Wasn’t Having It

so the bracelets are a little. U Got This. from him

really doesn’t like it when she cries 

to the point where he’ll do absolutely anything to get her to stop crying

it was then, that daeun discovered that minho gives god tier hugs 

God. Tier. 

minho and daeun cuddling when they’re drunk? more likely than you’d think 

they’re hilarious together, and probably one of stays most preferred ships with daeun and any of the boys 

the twt threadfics here are Legendary

the most popular one is a coffee shop au - where daeun is a struggling literature grad, and minho is a long-suffering night shift worker

absolutely does not tolerate any kind of hate towards daeun - verbal or otherwise. he blew a fuse the first time she trended for sexy pictures someone had taken of her at a fansign 

daeun had to tell him it was fine twelve times before he calmed down

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

daeun pulled down her skirt again for the nth time, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. she had her ankles tucked behind the leg of the chair and her hands folded over her lap to try and prevent anyone getting a glimpse up further into her skirt than was strictly necessary, but was - ultimately - doing a poor job of protecting her modesty. 

leaning over, minho took a glance at daeun shifting uncomfortably in her seat again, and shucked off his jacket - leaving him in a thin t-shirt in the cold breeze. before daeun could protest, he had laid the jacket over her legs, tucking it in and then sliding his hand in between hers and holding it tightly over his own lap. 

➣ CHANGBIN ☾ dabin

same age siblings !

both being in the ‘99 line, and with daeun originally training to be a main rapper than a vocalist

they were pretty comfortable around each other having spent so long training in each other’s presence

in fact

they even performed a duet together for one of the monthly evaluations

that was when they really became friends so to speak 

daeun fell asleep during one of their rehearsals on the floor of the studio

and changbin couldn’t just, leave her

so he ended up staying with her the whole night

was she embarrassed in the morning? yeah. and then changbin told her off for not prioritizing sleep more, and then she was more embarrassed.

now in the group, their dynamic settled into something extremely comfortable

when daeun was first introduced to the boys as a team, changbin was the only one she was completely comfortable rooming with 

his studio? nah, their studio 

did daeun sit in on a lot of the 3RACHA work prior to debut? yes, solely because she wanted the experience, and changbin said she could stay

it is actually his studio, but there’s a small collection (read: four) of soft pillows in the corner of the room for daeun to sit on as they work

according to her, she works better on the floor

changbin can’t find it in him to refute the argument, so he always ends up down there with her, with sheets sprawled over the carpet

when he started working out, he started taking daeun to the gym

swole buddies 

except daeun wasn’t allowed to build muscle and just had to run on the treadmill the whole time and changbin wasn’t made about that. he wasn’t.

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

changbin and daeun being the mafia when playing with skz and neither of them being able to look at each other without laughing. every time they’d make eye contact, daeun’s lips would twitch up, and changbin would have to turn away to cough into his arm lest he give himself away. 

ultimately, they lost - much to the chagrin of the pair, who wailed at their loss and proceeded to drink their sorrows away with the coca cola that they were sponsored for. 

product placement at it’s finest, even if it was a metaphor for alcoholism. 

➣ HYUNJIN ☾ dajin

lil beans

babies

awh

not at the start but now, yes.

he was wary around her, at first because hyunjin knows he’s attractive and the Last Thing He Wants is a groupmate that has a crush on him

so he was a bit, cold and aloof with daeun at the beginning of the survival show

he didn’t want to give her the wrong impression !

but then 

then 

daeun apologized to him in her video message after her elimination for ‘upsetting him, and making him feel like he couldn’t be comfortable around her’ and dear god

hyunjin’s heart = broken. destroyed. shattered into pieces. 

he still feels Very Guilty about this sometimes because he knows that his attitude towards her played a huge part in her feeling alienated and not like she belonged in the group

daeun tells him it doesn’t bother her but he knows

they talked through it though

good communication besties 

A+

he doesn’t call her noona though

he did, once upon a time, but then daeun felt weird because realistically, there’s only four months between them and that’s not enough to make her any more of a noona to him than he is a hyung to jisung and felix? 

they have a little rountine now, when either of them are upset

they pack up all the emotions for a little bit

into a little box

get out a laptop (doesn’t matter whos)

and just cuddle, with some blankets, and a terrible show or movie that they’re not really watching until the person is ok to talk 

arguably the most healthy friendship you will ever find

therapists around the country are giving standing ovations 

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

felix padded into hyunjin’s room to shake the boy awake, before catching sight of an already-awake daeun wrapped in his arms.

“noona?”

“help-” she gasped out, patting frantically at hyunjin’s arm that was firmly wrapped around her middle. “he won’t let go. it’s been an hour.” 

felix bit his lip, trying to stifle the laugh that was threatening to burst out. “i don’t know, you look pretty comfortable.” he began backing out the door.

“felix. lee felix. lee felix you come back here!” the harsh whisper-shouts echoed down the hallway after the giggling boy. 

➣ JISUNG ☾ jidae

partners in crime

probably have committed some crime together at some point but there’s no proof so chan can’t yell at them for it

they met when daeun first sat in on the 3RACHA meetings 

did someone say: soulmates 

changbin is convinced that the angel choir played when they first locked eyes

like this

jisung kicked the angel off of daeun’s shoulder and now it’s just him and the devil racking up reverse-brownie points in daeun’s conscience 

he’s been a wonderful influence, truly

to be fair though, daeun did attempt to convince him to stop eating ramen every day (to a varying degree of success)

to no degree of success actually. she just takes him out of the dorm to eat it now, but chan doesn’t need to know that bit

daeun? did you mean: jisung’s pillow?

anywhere, any place - he just flops down onto her

many head pats

they are both givers and receivers 

no words spoken only HEAD PATS 

the comfort is exchanged through osmosis

jisung is wholeheartedly against her ever getting a boyfriend 

Absolutely Not. she is theirs, and he will glare at anyone else who dares to Look At Her

nap buddies 

they get a combined total of negative six hours of sleep per week so they always end up napping together 

it’s very cute

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

less of a ‘moment’ and more of a series of events that STAY found hilarious?

we all know han jisung’s iconic converse. they’re legendary. unofficial skz merch. 

right well, daeun was seen wearing them out and around a few times by fansites, and one of them asked had she bought her own pair after seeing jisung’s at a fansign.

daeun laughed and said no, they were almost the same size in shoe so she just borrowed his. 

daeun stole jisung’s shoes. 

➣ FELIX ☾ daelix

stop they love each other so much 

felix said once in a vlive that he finds daeun really comforting to be around because she’s so calm 

‘calm’ 

he had a lot of anxiety about debuting because of what jyp said to him upon his elimination *angry noises*

so daeun tried her best to alleviate as much of his worries as possible

even if that meant sacrificing her own sleep to sit with him in the kitchen and talk things out

sorry i’d like to revisit the point that They Love Each Other Very Much 

felix says that he was worried about leaving his sisters behind, so having another noona was really comforting to him 

daeun absolutely has an australian accent when she speaks english now and it is completely felix’s fault 

he’d actively correct her pronunciation to make her sound more australian because he thinks the accent is so cute on her  

aggressively cute together 

you will get a toothache if you watch them for too long 

someone stop them they’re so adorable 

he likes to give out random compliments to see how red he can make her face go before she whacks him to get him to stop 

the results conclude: a pretty nice cherry-cheeked colour

felix really lives up to his koala nickname when he’s around daeun

will latch on and will not let go until he has to 

you thought chan loved felix? now see: chan watching daeun and felix 

pain

its so painful he just smiles like everything is right with the world and it IS because felix and daeun are there and aaaaaAAAA-

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

a sad moment, but one that features in every compilation of daelix’s interactions anyway. when daeun’s name was called for her elimination, she closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath and schooling her face into something impassive. the boys were all staring at her with devastated looks on their faces, but nothing was matching the look that felix was giving her from his position right by her side. 

he choked out her name, stumbling forwards into her arms as she caught him and wrapped him in a hug. felix apologized profusely for being the one in need of comfort, while daeun just ran a hand over his hair and told him it was alright, she was alright. 

➣ SEUNGMIN ☾ daseung

protector of daeun’s sanity

she has One (1) well behaved dongsaeng and its kim seungmin

it’s not that he’s less likely to act out than the others, really. it’s that he’s the least likely to die while doing it, so that = most well behaved, in daeun’s books 

daeun likes to squish his cheeks

no reason

other than, soft cheeks go squish and seungmin lets her so why would she forsake this golden opportunity

now if he wants to sit on the couch beside her he has to resign himself to cheek-smooshing 

also cheek kisses, rarely. usually when daeun’s intoxicated.

the boys had figured that both of their personalities together would just merge and create an even more chill environment

calm²

but NO

pemdas

it cancelled out

they’re not Chaotic but they’re certainly not Calm 

it’s a unique vibe that can only be described by this -> link

sorry

scholars but minus the education 

profound visionaries but they’re blind, type beat 

have the combined brainpower of the librarian gary from that one spongebob episode but they choose not to utilize it for the memes 

in all seriousness though, they’re very comfortable around each other 

seungmin struggled a lot with confidence during their debut months, and daeun was the only person who really knew the full extent of it all 

there was a Hefty Amount of nighttime talks on daeun’s bed under blankets stolen from the living room 

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

seungmin can sing, we all know that. but stray kids’ style rarely allows for full ballad songs on an album, so seungmin being given the opportunity to perform ‘Love Poem’ on Kingdom was truly a blessing in disguise. (the disguise being daeun’s re-occuring vocal nodules that left her unable to perform). 

after the performance, seungmin had barely taken a foot off the stage before he was being tackled by a teary-eyed daeun, who immediately buried her face into his shoulder to stop the cameras getting a good look at her crying. 

“n-noona?” 

“you can sing.” 

“yeah?”

“you sing so beautifully, minnie, oh my god.” 

➣ JEONGIN ☾ jeondae

the first thing you have to realize about daeun and jeongin’s relationship is that both of them can be the Biggest Babies in the world 

now with that out of the way

jeongin ADORES daeun 

im sorry did someone say ‘noona who wholeheartedly finds it impossible to say no to him’?

i think they did

he doesn’t take advantage of it, persay

but he Does and Will use it to others detriment - especially during games

“jeongin! you told me you weren’t the mafia! i believed you! this is a betrayal!”

she’s so so smitten with him and everything he does 

it is virtually impossible for her to be mad at him 

he just gets a little scowl and then a soft flick on his ear at the PEAK of scolding 

is the world’s worst enabler for All His Bad Ideas 

often complains that he’s growing up too fast and it isn’t fair that he’s taller than her now 

which he’ll then respond to by resting his elbow on her head and leaning on her, so. it never goes down very well 

daeun checks his micpack for him before every stage

every. stage. 

daeun is the only person who is allowed to coddle him as much as she does 

hyunjin is Bitter and daeun is Smug 

jeongin needs help with schoolwork? daeun would do it for him if she had been any good at school either, but alas 

 FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

chan stepped into the kitchen, camera in hand. 

“what are you doing?” 

daeun and jeongin shove his backpack off the table, the coloured permanent markers rolling off immediately after, two black ones uncapped in their hands. 

“NOTHING” 

chan looked pointedly at them, and then to the backpack that had slid underneath the table. there, written all over the straps and the front pocket were small drawings, ranging from dinosours to the words (written in very terrible handwriting, so he couldn’t be sure which one of them wrote it): “skool suks!”

chan looked over to the pair. they scrambled off the chairs, abandoning the evidence in their break for safety. 

[dimdiamond]

Since you guys seemed interested in my thoughts about the character designs and with @sys-garden understandable question about these two characters, let's take a closer look to Chang and Professor Calculus.

Let's take it step by step: first their appearance as its own and secondly what that means in the narrative.

The first thing we notice with those two characters is that they share three colors and in the same amount, green, black and a hint of yellow. The choices aren't random at all and I say they're actually very classic for the character design of a stand alone character. Why is that?

Green is a cold color coming from the mix of blue and yellow. When in a mostly green synthesis add a bit yellow you make it warmer because, although cold color, yellow is the closest it can be to the warm palette. This combination is considered to be one of the "harmonic" ones in the color theory (harmonic are usually the pair of colors close to each other in the color wheel aka imagine a rainbow and how the colors follow each other in harmony).

Symbolically speaking green is the color of balance and health while yellow, as weird as it sounds, is very often associated with danger and negative emotions BUT it's a really dynamic color, full of energy. So, looking at these characters shouldn't surprise us that, although they're really calm and quiet precences, they hide a really loud and energetic side that in times can be shown.

At this point I think we have reached the point of realization that, despite the obvious differences between these two characters, Chang and Calculus aren't that different and also shouldn't surprise us that in narrative their role isn't that afar either.

Let's start with Chang. Chang's first appearance is in Blue Lotus, one of Tintin's stand alone adventures before Haddock's and Calculus' appearance. He is considered Tintin's first real friend as we see Tintin, for the first time, trusting and working with someone else and even depending on them and saving each other. How does it work though and we see this duo working so well together? Well the visuals are already telling this story:

Do you notice how together they complete the trinity of blue - green - yellow? Both share small amount of yellow while the cold colors are dominant. That brings to our eyes not just harmony but balance and calmness. They're here to be the main duo of the story. However, can't help thinking that the one who makes an effort approaching the other more is Chang rather Tintin, since he doesn't share anything green while Chang wears the literal mix of their colors. That can be read as Tintin's awkwardness to actually open up and approach someone else but the desire is here. He just had to abandon all his warm palette and go the other extreme. Tintin needs still to develop more while Chang is more complete in this phase. (PS. I don't mean that in general Chang is incapable of character development but in that phase of the story he is content with himself. He is not in search for something more and he made his move to approach Tintin. It's just that Tintin needs more time.) Of course this is my further translation of them so you don't have to agree and take everything I say as facts.

I wish we had more Chang content to discuss about and I would talk about Tintin in Tibet but there Chang appears close to the end and the clothes he wears are the ones Tintin gives him, not really his choice but the palette is still close to green and blue. But don't be surprised that the thing that connects Tintin and Chang in this story is the yellow scarf aka the only color they actually shared even in small amount.

Let's go to Calculus. Calculus' first appearance is in the Red Rakham's Treasure where he appears to help Tintin and Haddock with finding the treasure. Since the first moment he appears he brings balance and harmony because all three complete the trinity of blue - green - yellow. Captain's cold palette meets Tintin's warm palette through Calculus' palette being the bridge. Of course I'm not saying that Calculus role is to be passive and just to compliment the main duo but he's here with strong presence, his aloof but confident attitude striking and balancing the loud precense of Haddock and the active one of Tintin.

Calculus helps Haddock to buy back his estate and then live together in the mansion so it's clear already that he's more a close companion to Captain than Tintin. I'd say that happens for many reasons but one could be cold colors work well together because again harmony (yeah I know it's funny considering how Haddock yells all the time so he can be heard by Calculus but most scenes together they're just in their own world so there's not really a big contradiction here). Another reason could be that, not that Haddock and Calculus push Tintin away, Tintin himself is not ready yet to be a stable presence in them. No matter, we see how well they look together but also seperate, Haddock with Calculus and Tintin with Calculus.

In conclusion, I hope you have now a better understanding why Chang and Calculus have the same energy and why each one is considered the other best friend for the main duo. In a duo with complimentary colors and characters, the other person close to them needs to be someone who can meet them halfway and work in harmony with them. And who's better for that job than a calm but still not to be underestimated green coded fellow?

[iphoenixrising]

DickTim Week 2021: Day 5 Winged!Talon Tim au

So. another dual prompt and I really regret nothing about this one tbh. I took tomorrow’s Talon and today’s Wings and made a Winged!Talon!Tim fic. Of course, I talked to the wonderful babes on Capes & Coffee about a what if combination and this just, whew. Careful, it might break your heart a little, but damn if it isn’t an interesting idea.

Not beta read, so don't be a hater :D

Previous Talon!Tim universe posts: The initial idea, Babe and I talking it out, Talon Training Ask, Ra’s vs the Court, Talon and Ra’s, Talon and Ra’s take 2, Talon and Shiva short.

**

Watching B take on the new and improved Talon is really the entertainment of the year.

Once upon a time it had taken all of them plus more to take down as much of the Court of Owls as humanly possible. Of course, like rats, the Bats knew there would be no way to get the entire Court or all the Talons, not when the upper echelons of Gotham had spent the better part of 200 years creating, storing, training, and obtaining more.

Politicians were investigated, corrupt cops removed, and criminals burrowed underground once word of what the capes did to save the day got passed around.

For the first time in years, crime in Gotham was at an all time low.

But, as the coin flip dictates, nothing good lasts forever. Trouble is always brewing below the surface to eventually rise to the top and try to take over.

Case in point:

The Bats of Gotham have come up against a new threat wearing the signature Talon armor, and the call goes out to all available capes for help taking on the undead mercenary before another crime family ends up in the Obituaries rather than Blackgate.

The fact the Court is still up and running after the Batfamily took them down in a fiery blaze that ended with all their Talons gone, Sensei exposed, and most the ruling families imprisoned or poisoned by Lincoln March, is like a kick to the abdomen after they closed that particular book. Worse, with a new Talon soldier is sighted running around Gotham, another circus kid has been kidnapped and turned into the right hand of the Court of Owls. Dick, with his absolute survivors guilt, is the one to make going after the Talon and whoever is still behind the scenes a top priority.

Which is how they find themselves in the middle of Knight’s Stadium facing down a Talon that is too short to be March. Red Hood, Nightwing, Robin, Batgirl, and Black Bat pretty much got their asses handed to them in the first twelve minutes. Pretty hard to understand until you take into account the new and improved Talon facing them now is terrifying in a completely different way than most undead assassins are.

He knows them.

He knows them in ways that lets him fight fast and furious with vicious accuracy, striking at weaknesses few of the vigilantes of Gotham realized they even had.

He isn't as big as Lincoln or even Cobb, not nearly as old. He hasn't been kept in cryostasis waiting for the next generation to need his skills. He doesn't have creaks in his joints from being put on deep freeze too many times.

This one is silent and efficient, obviously trained in multiple types of martial arts, is highly proficient with or without the standard Talon knives, is a master tactician, counters the majority of their moves with alarming consistency–

and the fucking Talon has wings.

Honest-to-God wings.

Everyone had assumed the metal monstrosities on his back were weapons of some kind, but the glint of steel in the streetlight flash a warning before the lumps moved in an arch, extending far out past his shoulder blades, slicing into Red Hood’s body suit with a razor-sharp edge, shredding the armor like paper.

It’s not enough he’s got weapons obviously made specifically for his skill set, it’s not enough he’s an assassin and doesn’t hold to the same standards of non-lethal combat, it’s not enough that he can use his wings to fly or to fight like he’s using another limb to kick the shit out of them, and it’s not enough that he effortlessly counters so many of their attacks that he has to have some kind of inside information on all of them and their fighting styles.

The knives are definitely a thing when the Talon can throw them hard enough to penetrate parts of their suits in between armored plating, which further drives the theory that this is a person they’ve dealt with before. Intimately. Few people in the world know how their suits are made. Even more, few people know particulars enough when their suits are constantly reconstructed.

The only thing on their side that tipped the scales in their favor–

–the Batman.

The wings threw him off his game, obviously, but not enough to stop B from holding his own with swift and merciless force.

It's like watching a dance of fast and furious fists, blades in Talon's hands glinting deadly in the night, finding B's suit over and over and over until he's made it to blood and bone. He takes every hit the Batman can dish out, head snapping back, left, and right with the volley of jaw-breaking blows and bone-shattering kicks.

None of it gives the Talon pause. When a move makes him drop a blade, another is already in hand, cutting into their body suits, wings flipping out to defend or distract, sweeping moves and well coordinated attacks.

The unnatural appendages are like another arm, another leg, an extension working on the same central nervous system, regardless as to how the Court managed to make it happen.

A jump kick off a trash can is a lucky shot as a wing catches B in the ribs hard enough to knock him into the wall of Mike's Famous Hotdogs. The only thing saving the Dark Knight from a concussion or permanent brain damage is the plating in his cowl.

It gives the Talon enough time to make a final bid for a battered Nightwing, Red Hood, and Robin struggling to their feet again, eyes for their fallen mentor.

Before he can lunge forward to start the attack yet again, the Talon just stops, pauses like he’s stuck or something, and in the span of a breath, both wings extend fully, flap powerfully once to propel him up into the Gotham night.

O tries her best to track his flight through the city, but no one’s arms are working well enough to toss a tracker on him.

She loses him over Cape Carmine, slams her palms against her system in frustration, makes sure she gets as much footage from the confrontation as possible.

After some sleep and a whole lot of bandages and ice packs, the Bat family meets in the Cave to watch the footage, breakdown the Talon’s fighting style, his weaponry, and make theories on his identity.

O helps out with readings she has of electronic pulses she managed to capture coming from the armor over his wings. She thinks she might be able to use it to track him if they can get close enough for her equipment to ping the signal again.

B makes a trip to Arkham since Freeze apparently hasn’t stopped producing the formula used to put Talons in cryostasis.

It’s not until Gotham’s power grid has a massive surge that O and the Bats can pinpoint a possible location, all of them invested in one hell of a fight to get the last rats still scurrying in the underground.

The plan of attack comes together smoothly once they’ve scoped out the location, seen the shady activity, and together, they make one hell of a plan.

**

And because, you know, Gotham, it is completely normal for the Court of Owl's headquarters to have a skylight.

Natch.

For this one, they've got Batgirl and Black Bat, Red Hood and Robin, Nightwing and B, a real family affair.

O's quiet voice over comms leading them through the maze of traps and empty rooms, abandoned libraries and spooky ball rooms. The laboratory isn't the most horrific they've all ever seen (because the Joker's summer place is literally the stuff of nightmares), but a few of them do gag on the smell alone.

The plan, however, goes horribly awry when the clear sounds of tormented screaming echoes from right under their reinforced bootheels.

Black Bat's fists clench hard, her breathing wheezes out when the tone, the utter agony goes right through her.

A shudder slides up Robin's spine as all of them turn toward the noise.

Without a flicker or a word, the Batman moves, strafing in the shadows toward the sound. He can't assume it's an innocent civilian with something the Court wants, but he's betting on the fact that scream will lead them to whoever is running the show.

The medieval room has bars and reinforced locks, implements hanging on the wall. The cement brick is stained rust colored with old blood, the vestiges of training, and the awful realization they've found another hidden niche in the city that always existed right under their noses is punctuated with the abrupt drop in temperature, with the sudden charge in the air, with the zzzzcrack snapping beyond the door, replaced with a muted buzzing Robin can feel in his back teeth.

B is already on his way to the roof, Batgirl down through the floor vent while Nightwing picks the locks with fast precision, knocking the tumblers around.

Robin and Red Hood stay close to the reinforced door, balancing on the balls of their feet, katana and .45s at the ready.

Black Bat takes the high road, ceiling tiles giving way under her Bat-a-rang. She gives a sharp nod before she's up and gone.

"All right. Ready?" Nightwing stands, cracks his neck, flips his escrimas in both hands, works his shoulders to prepare for the strain of each blow he plans to give.

"Ya betcha ass," Hood murmurs low, a cut figure with both guns at his sides, gloved fingers on the trigger guard.

"Don't disappoint," Robin snarls, "either of you."

"Nice pep talk, squirt," Nightwing snickers.

"Tt, back up your mouth with action."

"Better shuddap, Demon. Golden Boy ain't fuckin' 'round. Neither is the Bat. We get one more chance a' this asshole. We ain't gonna blow it again, ya feel me?"

"Finally, something we agree on, Hood."

"Other than N's shitty mullet?"

Nightwing swiftly glares at them both over his shoulder, unconsciously putting himself front and center of the trio, ready to be the first in once they get the signal.

– which is the sound of the glass raining down from the heavens.

Three booted feet kick the door hard enough to take it off the hinges, lying against the faded stains like a fallen body.

First step in the room is the complete opposite to what they'd all been expecting.

The two Owl masks aren't the usual, but a perversion of the originals, crudely drawn yawning mouths complete with fangs dripping blood.

But.

The boy on his knees, arms in a binder holding the appendages hostage at a painful angle, is dripping the real thing. Rivulets down his chest and where his back is partially visible. Some from the base of the wings going into the back of his shoulder blades where the skin is torn and raw.

The bar gag shoved in his mouth doesn't take away from the splatters on his chin, the bruising on his face, the swollen eye. But it's his wings that makes the Bats falter from the initial rushing attack.

His wings are without the armor, are bound straight up above his restrained body with hooks grotesquely puncturing through the downy softness, desecrating the beauty with blood and gore. The angle makes the pull to his back where the wings are part of him just another agony on top of atrocity.

"Fuck," from the first Owl mask, and a swift move frees the Talon's bound arms, the appendages flopping uselessly to the floor, only his trapped, tortured wings keeping him up on his knees.

The second Owl shoves the first back, "let him take care of them. Let's get out of here!"

The first Owl snarls out something low and foreign, the phrases rolling off his tongue.

The words lock into place, and the Talon's head snaps up, snarling around the gag in his mouth.

When his face is finally, finally visible, the protectors of Gotham are frozen in their tracks.

Familiar violet-blue eyes, too-long blue-black hair, cut jawline and pointed nose. Tiny scar on his right cheek from the time he caught Ra's al Ghul's ring across the face.

"Jesus Fucking Christ," is barely heard through the Red Hood's synths and in no way fully expresses his utter horror at what these dirty motherfuckers have done.

Robin wretches, bile burning the back of his throat once those eyes swing up to the masked parody of the Owls and his bare upper body is visible through the blood and sweat on his chest, when the scars peeking through on his collar bones form a half-visible Y-incision, when the coloring of the bared wings now makes sense (robin's wings, Damian Wayne thinks with his heart beating pitter patter fast, and his stomach in knots, they put robin's wings on him...).

And the hurt, agonized noise coming out of Nightwing's chest is the only noise he can make when those dimmed, dazed eyes swing from the Owls back to the vigilantes frozen in their spots, when there's no spark of joy or fondness or stubbornness he's so used to seeing staring him down.

The errant thought, the first instinct, is the only humane way to deal with this new Talon is to put him down for good wars with the man behind the mask that only wants to reach out, wants to pull the Talon into his body and curve over, to scream at the injustice of it all, to rail at himself for not even suspecting.

Another switch flipped and the hooks release his wings, blood splattering on top the old stains.

"Get them! Don't fuck it up this time or you won't get another chance," the second Owl shoves the Talon's injured shoulder in the direction of the horrified vigilantes.

They don't even bother to take the gag out of his mouth before setting him on his target.

A flap of wings, and the Talon is on his feet again, swaying only slightly. He's in the boots and pants from earlier, the rest of his uniform tossed carelessly behind him by his tormentors. A sweep of his feet and the knives glint in bare palms, a whisper of a sound.

The curved, clawed blade glints in the overhead light when the Talon raises it and cuts the strap of the bar gag in his bloody mouth, turns his head to spit it out without looking away from the vigilantes.

The Batman, grim and stoic in the face of this surprising turn of events, gives the barest nod. From her hiding spot behind the complex machinery, Black Bat takes off after the running Owl members, leaving the rest of the family to deal with their former third Robin.

The wings flinchingly flare out and their former bird hunches over, ready for the attack.

“Wait! Wait, wait, wait,” the Red Hood removes the helmet, leaves the domino underneath. He keeps one hand out in peace, slowly dipping down to put his helmet on the ground. “Is us, Tim. Timmy. Baby Bird. Is us. Yer family. Gotta lookit us, yeah?”

For the first time, the Talon speaks, “who’s Tim?”

And then he lunges.

**

The fight happens very differently this time.

The former power behind the punches is obviously dulled with the Talon’s identity reveal. He doesn’t hold back, is utterly ruthless with his attacks. He takes out B’s right knee, puts Hood down on the stained floor, knocks Robin into the wall with crushing force, and slams Batgirl’s head off the operating table.

He stands over Nightwing, wicked blade in hand and robin’s wings spread wide. He takes a knee, the sharp edge right above N’s adam’s apple, staring down impassively into the whiteouts.

“Timmy,” N spits blood, grunting when one knee pins his arm down. “Timmy, please. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I love you and I’m sorry they did this to you.”

Those eyes don’t change in the slightest. “You should not have tried to oppose the Owls.”

“We beat them once,” Nightwing gasps, “and you helped us, Baby Bird. You were with us then, don’t you remember.”

“I was nothing before the Court perfected me,” the Talon replies emotionlessly.

“You were perfect before they ever touched you.”

“No,” and the Talon leans down, puts them a breath away. “The only thing you and those others do is put the criminals back in prison, back in Arkham for them to escape again, for them to kill and destroy over and over again. Like this, I can stop them permanently.”

“Oh Timmy,” and behind the whiteouts, Nightwing’s eyes spill over, his vision wavery. “Timmy–”

“Don’t call me that. Stop calling me that.”

“You know me, you know us. You have to remember–”

“Lies. All of it lies!”

Nightwing’s chest stutters, his fist clenching, “it’s not. None of it is. Not even this–”

And he’s fast enough to grab the back of the Talon’s neck, to lean up enough against the blade pressed against his throat, can bring their mouths together, can kiss him like he’s dying and the Talon is the only thing that can save him.

It’s sloppy and awkward because the Talon doesn’t know what’s happening, gasps against the vigilante’s mouth. The tongue sliding over his, the muffled moan in his mouth sparks something in the back of his brain where the Court of Owls could never touch.

When Nightwing pulls back, stares up at wide violet-blue eyes, when the blade falls away to clatter against the block, when the Talon’s mouth trembles and tears fill his eyes, when his wings flutter and falter, fold in on them both, when his voice goes hoarse with, “D-Dick?” Nightwing throws both arms around his waist and holds on.

[genesisrose74]

Up Late -> S. Ishigami

Hey I physically cannot get Senku mf’ing Ishigami off my brain and it is one in the morning, so time for nighttime concepts written by ya girl :3 This is sorta a headcanon/short oneshot scenario combination that I made on the spot. Hope you enjoy it!

Good gracious I just love him and wanna give him a hug, is that too much to ask for

*****

As much as he claims to be against the thoughts of himself in a romantic relationship, Senku would sacrifice a limb for the people dear to him in situations of vulnerability and the like (ahem,,, nearly crying after hearing his friends’ voices over the phone after so long apart, making cola for Gen on multiple occasions, etc.). Therefore I reject the idea that you’d always have to be the one to initiate intimate moments between you both, and will today entertain soft Senku appearing at night time. He’s very often awake later than others in the village because he has a hard time reigning in all his thoughts and plans quickly, and if you happen to catch him at these hours it is a blessing and a half. Not that you’ve told him that.

He’s still his joking and oddly charismatic self, of course, but he’s noticeably more attentive. Things like, “you need rest if you’re gonna keep working tomorrow” and, “it’s not the smartest to be out in this colder weather, you know” fall from his mouth and into the crisper night air if he encounters you milling about without much rhyme or reason. If he’s working on something smaller in the little observatory house, you’ll get invited up to look through his telescope at all the gorgeous stars — ones that seem to twinkle that much brighter in the comfortable presence of each other.

One moment Senku’s tinkering with one of his little projects to wind himself down, and the next he’s quietly watching as you lean out of the makeshift observatory’s opening, looking up at the sky with such contentment reflecting back from your own observing gaze that it makes him unreasonably intrigued.

“Wouldn’t you rather see everything up there a bit closer with the telescope?” He inquires a bit jokingly, the subtle smirk in his tone clear as the night display above. Yet your mouth only twitches upwards at his question, and the scientist who almost always has a logical explanation for things simply grows more interested.

“It’s pretty just taking everything in at once, too,” you hum thoughtfully. “Don’t you think?”

He does. As much as he likes seeing all the pieces that make up the contents of the universe beyond, looking up at it now in one big framework seems to give him that usual feeling of exhilaration.

Maybe you contributed to the scene as well, as Senku takes note of the way you balance on your tiptoes before rocking back onto your heels, really for no good reason but entertaining him all the same. And he’s barely even thinking about it further as he places his things safely to the side and stands to his feet, wandering over to get a better look at what you’ve become so enraptured with.

Your eyes swim with the light of billions of stars that stare down at the village, glossy with something that neither you nor him can really pinpoint, and Senku offers a light nod in response to your earlier question. The little gesture in your peripheral causes you to crack a smile, and it only sticks around longer when the crimson-eyed boy slips off his winter jacket to hand over.

“If you stay out of bed any more today, the cold won’t be very forgiving,” he notes, and to his satisfaction, you take the warm article of clothing without further persuasion.

“I might stick around for a bit,” comes your reply. “The walk back does not sound all too appealing at the moment, but I’ll get the motivation eventually. Hopefully.”

He scoffs lightheartedly with a shake of his head. Stubborn, he thinks, just like how you would sometimes get before the whole petrification phenomenon. He quite liked it. Back then and right now.

“You know,” he starts, slowly turning away from the roof’s opening, “if you’re that opposed to going back, there’s room here.”

The offer is menial and simple, something Senku would offer up no matter the person to which he was speaking, but he’s truly hoping that you’ll say yes to the proposition. You shift in position to lean your jacket-covered back against the wooden wall, soft smile and warm figure the only thing running through the young scientist’s head as he tilts his head to look back at you.

“If you wouldn’t mind housing me for the evening, I’d very much like to take up that offer.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I minded,” he points out, the faintest of grins tugging at the corners of his lips. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

And you do - both of you. And maybe he lets you hold onto that winter coat until morning, because you melted into its warmth with so much ease that sleep overtook you in minutes, a gentle smile ever present as you nestled into the cozy fabric.

After the next few times that it happens, Senku gets a jacket made similar to his own and stores it beside the telescope, just in case you’d like to stay the night with him again.