#gotta add more to my battle jacket too ..

[mxbitters]

if only my dead great uncle could see what i’m currently doing to his old army jacket lol

[benedictscanvas]

omggg in my fluffy needing comfort era and i LOVE how you write jamie tartt x reader- could i make a request for jamie x chronically ill reader where he is just really supportive and loving with someone who is long-term sick? ♥️♥️

of course, my love. thank you for the kind words. i tried to make this as vague as possible so people can relate in their own ways. sending you love! <3 | gn!reader, 1.2k words, tw chronic illness & pain, language

You'd just about managed to get your hair how you wanted it to look for the evening, with minimal swearing for once. Jamie was sat on the bed waiting for you, he'd been ready for a good few minutes now, but you were still reluctant to emerge. There was a wave of pain undulating through you that you were trying to ride out in silence without alerting your boyfriend.

"Y' alright, love? No rush, I wanna be fashionably late anyways," he said from the next room, raising his voice so that it reached you through the closed door. You hardly ever closed doors around each other, so you should have known he'd be worried.

The pain wasn't dissipating, so you took a few deep breaths before stepping out into the bedroom with a smile that you hoped was normal.

"Sorry, my hair wasn't co-operating," you say, tilting your head as you take him in. Navy trousers, white shirt, brown jacket. He looked effortlessly gorgeous, even if he had one more button undone than you would have suggested. Some things didn't change, "You look so good, Jamie."

"Me?" he said incredulously, standing up and huffing out a breath of disbelief, "You look...fuck. I'm not good enough with me words for this."

His hands gesture aimlessly down your outfit and you feel a real smile blossoming under his attention. You take his hands in yours and place them on your waist, stopping his flapping from going further.

"I like your words just fine. And your face," you add with a grin that he returns, curling his fingers into the fabric he's found. A new wave of pain crests and you try your hardest to keep it off your face, but don't think about how your body must tense under his touch. His whole face crumples.

"Ah shit," he murmurs, running his hands down your arms to interlace your fingers together as he takes a step closer, "Why didn't y' say anythin' babe?"

"About what?" you ask pathetically, watching him fix you with a look that said 'cut the shit'.

"Cut the shit," he said, clearly deciding the look wasn't enough, "We agreed, babe, you tell me if it's a bad day so I can help. Or at least try to. Thought we were in a good place with it."

Your heart aches. He really does hate it when you keep your pain to yourself, even though you're not sure he yet understands just how much pain you would be sharing if you shared all of it. You'd been dating for six months, but still wanted to be careful not to scare him off.

"I am. I promise, Jamie, I do tell you it's just..." you struggle for a good explanation that doesn't create any pity in him, "Tonight's big, you know? I want to be a proper girlfriend and I want to burst into tears and kiss you stupid when they call your name for that award."

There is a little bit of pity in his eyes when you've finished, so you can't have done a very good job of it. He squeezes your hands tightly in his.

"Can't say it many more ways," he says softly, "But y' gotta believe that you are me priority, gorgeous. Jus' wanna look after you, y' know. I wanna be a proper boyfriend too."

You'd never thought about it that way. Another wave of pain hits and Jamie's instantly stroking your temple when your eyes clench shut. You feel his lips on the opposite side of your head as he whispers sweet little comforts in your ear.

If it wasn't so painful, maybe you'd be more willing to argue the point with him. It would have to be a battle saved for later, because lying down was the only option for the moment. You could feel the sting of tears; it couldn't have been a worse time for a flare up.

"I'll be there for every other award you win," you say forcefully, but you can't bring yourself to promise. Sometimes you worry you can't promise him enough, but then you see the way he looks at you as he leans backwards again and a lot of that worry falls away.

"You're way too sure that I'm winnin' this award, by the way," he says, a little bashful. It was one of your favourite versions of him, "I'm up against quality."

"None of that. The most creative player in the league this season was you. Hands down. I think you know that really."

He nods, but doesn't look sure still. Then he's stepping away from you as he shrugs off his jacket, throwing it onto the back of a chair and flopping down on the bed.

"Come on then, love. We can fit in a quick episode of whatever you want before the ceremony's on TV."

You stare at him.

"What?"

"Well I'm not fuckin' going without you," he laughs, like that was never an option, "Duh. I'd be bored shitless. I know you need to lie down, babe, come on."

He holds out a hand to you. You take it, still dazed by the sudden turn of events, let him pull you onto the bed and into his arms on top of the covers.

"There we are," he breathes, pressing kisses into the top of your head, "Perfect. We'll have a much better evening bein' able to laugh at Roy makin' a fool of himself for the cameras from 'ere, right?"

Coming back to your senses, you pull yourself out of his arms for a moment so you can look at him properly. He's been acting normal up until now, but when he sees the tears in your eyes, his whole face softens.

"Let's not argue right now, love, please," he begs, "Wanna take care of you, so jus' let me. We can talk about it tomorrow."

"Your award..." you choke out, but he shushes you.

"Will be waitin' for me at the club tomorrow. Me speech would have been fucked anyway, so there's nothin' to miss out on."

There's no room for argument in his voice. It's as firm as it is comforting. Relenting as the pain hits once again, you snuggle back into his arms, kissing whatever parts of him you can reach.

"Like my guardian angel," you say, trying not to sound so teary, "So grateful for you, Jamie. Love you so so much."

"Yeah, yeah, love you too," he says, brushing you off as you expected but with fondness in his tone as he pulls you even closer.

"Hey...you just said the award would be waiting. You're finally admitting that you're definitely getting it?"

He chuckles.

"Course I'm getting it. That award's mine, babe," he says, cocky smirk firmly on his face that you can only see in the reflection of the TV. Then he gasps, comically, "Do y' think they'll make Roy do me speech?"

You gasp right back, already feeling better.

"Yes! If you put it on now, we might be able to see him flip people off on the red carpet beforehand."

Jamie grins as he struggles to reach the remote and turns the TV on.

"Fuckin' genius, you are."

---

please see this post if you would like to request your own roy/jamie drabble!! closing soon <3

[i-love-def-leppard]

Welcome Home (Def Leppard x Reader)

A/N: Hi everyone!! This is my first time ever writing something, let alone a fan-fiction so I’m a little nervous posting this. I am open to constructive criticism to improve my writing, which I promise will get better as time goes on. That being said, I hope you all enjoy my first story ever [EEEEKKKK]!!

🫶🏻 i-love-def-leppard

-

Dublin 1981 - Me and My Wine house

I walked up the rain stained steps of my home, thinking about how glad I was to finally be here after a long day of work.

Managing the local record store is something I am very grateful for. However, just like any other type of work environment, a few rude customers can quite literally turn my day to shit.

Quickly pushing my negative thoughts away, I step into the main entrance of my happy place as my nose becomes overwhelmed by the smell of someone cooking.

“Boooyyysss!! I’m homeee!!”

Immediately as those words leave my mouth, I become trampled by the one and only, Joe Elliott, running his way out the kitchen with pasta sauce stains on his shirt.

“Y/N, love! GOSH! The lord knows how much I’ve missed you and your precious face all day!”

He says as he releases his hands from my face while going in for a hug, never forgetting to leave a sloppy kiss on my cheek.

Suddenly raising his eyebrows with a smirk plastered on his adorable face, he says,

“Are you wearing what I think you’re wearin?!”

Quickly remembering that I’m wearing my cropped, v-neck, red Leppard tank top (paired with dark blue flare jeans and one of the boys leather jackets), I blush at his wandering eyes and proud facial expression.

“Well, duh Joe, of course!”

I say playfully shoving his chest.

“I’m very proud of you boys and how far you’ve all come with the band. Of course I’m gonna show you lot off any chance I get.”

“You are too good to us, love.” a new voice says from around the corner.

“Sav!!”

You exclaim, making your way around Joe’s figure to enter the curly haired bassist’s open arms.

Pulling away slowly from the embrace, Sav says,

“Nice outfit, Y/N/N.”

He smirks as his eyes trail down your form.

Leaving you blushing as always, he gives you no time to respond as he says,

“Anyone give you problems at the store today? Cause if they did, I swear on all things holy, I’ll-”

Sav’s words were suddenly cut off by two pairs of loud footsteps making their way down the stairs.

“I CALL DIBS ON HUGGING HER FIRST” yells Phil to his terror twin.

“Not if I get to her first, SLOW POKE!” Steve replies.

“I’m not slow Steve! I can beat you all day in a swimming race!” a furious Phil throws back.

“Yeah, alright merman. We all know you have some weird obsession with the water. Now knock it off in front of the lady.”

Steve says as he swiftly walks away from Phil pouting at the bottom of the stairs.

Laughing, you approach the taller blonde guitarist.

“Hi Steve. I’ve missed you.”

You say as you are engulfed in yet another Leppard hug.

His smell of cigarettes and signature cologne always gave you a comfort like no other.

“Apologies for Mr. Grumpy-pants, love” pointing at Phil.

“Now, I’d keep you in a hug all day if I could, but I’d upset blondie over there if I didn’t share you at least a little.”

Steve adds as he reluctantly removes his hands from around your waist.

“C’mere Phil” you look to him as you initiate a hug, giving him a sweet kiss on his cheek.

Instantly forgetting his small battle with Steve, a now relieved Phil whispers in your ear.

“Thank god your home. I’ve had to deal with them all day.”

Giggling at his words you see a sudden idea appear on his face.

“Y/N. Why don’t you take a break at that record store and let us take care of you. Come with us on our next tour, for the whole thing!”

“Then this way, we could see you all the time!”

“Phil, I’m only gone a few hours a day during the week haha” you reply.

“Just think about it, okay.” Phil slightly begs.

“Alright I will. And Phil, you’re sweet. You know I’d love that more than anything, but I’ve gotta contribute somehow” you reply.

“Aye! I know a way she can contrib-” Joe says with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Oh shut it Joe” says Rick as he finally makes an appearance.

“I mean I wouldn’t be opposed to-” joins in Sav.

Rick is quick to slap Sav on the arm, while the rest of the group, including you, giggle at their dirty remarks.

Rick’s always been very protective of you, which you loved.

It’s no secret that the boys were all attracted to you in one way or another, and you to them.

Their constant flirtatious behavior was nothing new to you and you secretly loved it. They all knew that.

Pulling Rick in for the final hug, you can’t help but realize how grateful you are for your boys.

Snapping you out of your appreciative daydream, you feel Joe grab your hand.

You are suddenly being pulled out of Rick’s arms, into the direction of the kitchen.

“C’mon love. Into the kitchen we go!” Joe says.

“I’ve made dinner!” he grins.

“Ughhh” everyone in the room groans.

“We left him unsupervised for 30 minutes and he manages to sneak himself into the kitchen. Unbelievable.” a nervous Rick replies.

Shaking my head at their silliness, I can’t help but be forever grateful for getting to come home to this everyday.

My boys.

-

THE END!!!! Thank you for reading🩷🩷

[bri3000-kimiyosh]

Hikari Naegi DR3 Design

UDG OC Hikari Naegi in her new her dr3 design, Clothes and gear made from the latest Future Foundation tech. All thx to Togami, with some help of her training from Toko( genecider syo)

I will do a couple of more parts of this for you all to see the gear better, Let me know what ya think and if you had a suggestion to add to her design I'm all ears.

I was inspired by the old beta pics of action Komaru and I thought that Kari can be this in DR3

Here is the pic for refence -> i.redd.it/zuee8urq83y31.jpg /

This one below is for her personality and expressions not including hair cut

static.wikia.nocookie.net/dang…

She has red scrunchies, tech goggles to help her during her fights, red jacket, black undershirt, gadget belt to hold her megaphone and other gadgets( and her phone), black shorts with long black stockings( its not show in this but I forgot to enable them lol) and black tech boots.

Future Foundation watch, she can use this to activate her outfit( think girl transformation or quick sailormoon style troupe, also can be use as a map, phone, activate auto shield or she can do it herself just gotta do a certain move to trigger it. was going for stuff like batman or other heroes use in comics or shows back in the day. Also needs to charge each day.

A cute new backpack, a cat pack that can carry other items, snacks, etc lol.

High tech Boots, helps give her fast speed during her battles, high jump, run along walls, and if she wants to kick a momokuma in the face they can help make a good dent in its face. But not too strong to send flying into building or destroy on impact.

refence here - danganronpa.fandom.com/wiki/Fi… High tech gloves, helps out in a melee with enemies, can small but impactful energy blast, can be use to tase enemies close range, helps keep megaphone recharged to have infinite bullets.

OC Hikari Naegi -> ( ヒカリ ) ( 苗偽 ) she is the younger sister of Makoto Naegi in a different universe.

Some Fanfiction Art for my fanfic Danganronpa Ultra Despair Girls AU Hikari Naegi

This art was made with Koikatsu

Mod showcase scene was borrowed from the koikatsu discord and pixiv scene sharing pages, credit goes to the original creator.

WARNING its a nsfw Japanese game but I make non lewd art with it public platforms that's rated E for everyone.

[ouraniatm]

hi, gamers, i cutely added the VOICELINES section on cora's carrd, so please check them out if you're curious! will probably add them more in future, but i ain't got the brain juices rn LMAO. though, just in case, i'll also copy paste them here, under read more. (warning: too sassy for those of faint heart).

SHARED.

TUTORIAL: "are we done here?" LEVEL UP 1: "huh...didn't think i'd get any stronger." LEVEL UP 2: "levelling up won't do much, to me." LEVEL UP 3: "alright...i can get used to this." LEVEL MAX: "i guess i'm all set...hm? what, you expect me to thank you? don't get your hopes up." VIGNETTE LEVEL UP: "y'know, when i tell people to buzz off, they do exactly that...but, you're different. ah, well, not that i care enough to know why." SPELL LEVEL UP: "magic's good and all, but you gotta have the brains to use it right." UNCAPPED: "man, you're annoying, thinking this'll make us automatically closer...hey, what's so funny?" GROOVIFICATION: "all this pampering makes me think you're just buttering me up. heh...gotta try harder than that, buddy." LESSON SELECT 1: "another lesson...really excited to sit around and do nothing." LESSON SELECT 2: "at least studying will distract me from my pointless duties." LESSON SELECT 3: "you wanna pick? eh, be my guest...i don't really care, either way." LESSON START: "c'mon, get this over with, already." LESSON FINISH: "ugh...has a century passed?" BATTLE START: heh...you're all a bunch of jokes. BATTLE WON: that all you got, wussies?

DORM UNIFORM CARD LINES (SSR).

SUMMON: "someone's got the guts to come here. what're you looking for, a medal?" GROOVY: "i hate being told what to do...but, i also hate weaklings who can't do their job right." SET TO HOME SCREEN: "being a vice housewarden is basically a babysitting job, without the payment." HOME TRANSITION 1: "sure, ignihyde's gloomy and full of spineless cowards...but, comparing to other dorms, it's pretty tolerable." HOME TRANSITION 2: "i don't get people who would kill for these positions. not that i can't deal with it, but still...you'd have to be a masochist to enjoy being hogged by everyone." HOME TRANSITION 3: "why're you still sticking around? case in point, i'm currently busy ignoring you on purpose." HOME, AFTER LOGIN: "huh, my uniform? you wear these to show which dorm you belong to. shocking, i know...gee, can't take a joke?" HOME TRANSITION/GROOVIFICATION: "thought i told you to leave me alone...why do i even bother? here, have some salty chips." TAP HOME 1: "apparently, ignihyde's whole aesthetic is based off the actual underworld. well, i'll give 'em this: they definitely hit too close to home...maybe even breached on sensitive parts." TAP HOME 2: "what's idia complaining about, this time? ugh, it's like that oversized crybaby can't do anything but throw HIS work on ME." TAP HOME 3: "y'know how this uniform usually has pants? well, i made mine into shorts...feels more comfy, if you ask me. plus, the stockings aren't too bad, either." TAP HOME 4: "usually, i shoo people off without a hitch...but somehow, i can't do the same to ortho. maybe it's 'cuz he's not an insufferable, spoiled brat." TAP HOME 5: "there're no good people, no matter who they are. we've all got our motives and goals, even if it means stomping through some measly pushovers...better keep your guard up." TAP HOME/GROOVIFICATION: "for some reason, these stray cats keep crawling around my legs. man, they're annoying...what, you don't think so? then, take 'em off me if you like them so much." DUO MAGIC:cora: "hiding behind me again, eh, idia?" idia: "j-just take care of this, cora..."

BDAY JACKET CARD LINES (SSR).

SUMMON: "yeah, yeah, the birthday star's here, hardy harr. stop rushing me..." GROOVY: "finally, the attention's off me. ugh...at least it's only once a year." SET TO HOME SCREEN: "alright, got the jacket on. let's get this over with." HOME TRANSITION 1: "i didn't bother changing my regular clothes off. the flashy jacket's more than enough." HOME TRANSITION 2: "ignihyde students aren't the type to host parties...which is why i got caught off guard when they actually did one for my birthday." HOME TRANSITION 3: "everyone says i should be more happy during celebrations...in reality, i don't see the point to smile 'round a bunch of nobodies." HOME, AFTER LOGIN: "why's everyone so excited over birthdays, anyway? they're just a waste of time, serving no purpose but us growing older." HOME TRANSITION/GROOVIFICATION: "this package of hair dye vil-dono got for me, i can work with...but, makeup? what am i, a beauty enthusiast?" TAP HOME 1: "did anyone tell silver he sucks at giving gifts? if not, then i sure did after he gave me a bunch of tea bags. apparently, it's to help me fall asleep...as if it's that easy." TAP HOME 2: "jamil went out of his way to get me a collectable figurine, limited edition, too. dunno if he's trying to suck up to me, but it's something." TAP HOME 3: "outta everyone i know, it's no surprise idia would take one extra mile. for that reason, now i got a brand new video game console he, himself, built." TAP HOME 4: "i dunno who funds these parties, but they're clearly meant to distract us from the fact nobody cares about each other." TAP HOME 5: "you're asking if i'm enjoying the party? hm...if you consider 'being asked stupid questions' as enjoyment, then sure thing." TAP HOME/GROOVIFICATION: "ugh, why do we gotta have our faces smeared with pies? vil-dono sure didn't hesitate to do that on me...someone's got a grudge." DUO MAGIC:cora: "guess i should thank you for this, vil-dono." vil: "a surprisingly nice gesture, cora. happy birthday."

[a-beast-of-prey]

{{It only really matters to the three people in the Bordorklands fandom I’m currently threading with, and maybe a shoelace, but since BLands 3 apparently takes place seven years after the events of 2... K’ would be 23-25. And Maxima would be 36.}}

[rickhunolt]

How To Make A Battle Vest/Jacket

I am back with another tutorial folks! This time is about making a battle vest/jacket from start to finish!

I am just starting my second battle vest and I want to show ya'll the process and give a few tips and advices, and a few tricks as well. The main thing about my vests is that I try to keep everything I use as cheap and affordable as possible. :)

Also, I want to say that when it comes to making a battle vest/jacket there are basically no rules. Everyone can put whatever they want on it, and make it look however they like. But there is this sort of unwritten rule that I think everyone should be following when making a battle vest/jacket: Don't put patches/pins on your vest/jacket of bands that you don't listen to. Than's it, just be sure you know and listen to the bands on your vest/jacket.

That should be it, now, let's start with the tutorial!!!! >:D

1.The Base

First of all, you need a base. Denim and leather are the most common but I have seen people using camo vests/jackets and sometimes even flannel shirts.

You can find cheap denim and leather jackets/vests at thrift shops. You don't have to buy a new one because they can be kinda expensive and is not worth it when you can thrift one. (also if you end up thrifting one, make sure to wash it)

Once you chosen the base for your vest/jacket, you can add patches and other accessories on it!!

⛧Tips⛧

If you can't find a denim vest, get a jacket and cut off the sleeves (there are higher chances to find jackets then vests)

If you choose leather as the base for your vest/jacket, keep in mind that once you poke a hole with the sewing nedle in leather, that hole is going to be there forever. So be really careful with placing the patches!!!

2. Patches

Alright, now that you have a base for the vest/jacket, you gotta put patches on it!! >:D

The patches can be with literally anything not only bands and music related stuff!

Also, I prefer making my own patches too, beside some that I do buy, because having a vest/jacket full of patches that you bought is not going to be cheap at all. I already made two tutorials on making patches using two different methods:

How to make painted patches

How to make patches with images

Once you have the patches, you will need some sewing pins, to pin the patch where you want, in order to stay in place when you sew it. For sewing I use embroidery thread but you can choose whatever thread you want. And as for the needle, I use a thicker one.

Now, for those of ya'll that don't know how to sew, I will link a video about a simple sewing method that a ton of peopl use when working on their vests. This is a very common methods of sewing btw. (I am not explaing the sewing process here because I don't really know how to explain it in order for ya'll to understand, sorry)

How to Sew: Running Stitch | Hand Basting Tutorial | Sewing for Beginners

⛧ Tips ⛧

Don't fucking use iron on patches!!!!!!!! It doesn't matter how much heat you apply on them they will end up falling off at some point and that sucks. I know iron on patches are the most convenient solution for most people but please just fucking sew your patches!!!!!

To make them a bit easier to sew, I try and rip off the plastic sheet from the back of the iron on patch so the needle can go easier through it. (p.s. you will maybe end up breaking needles when sewing iron on patches)

3.Studs

You can also add studs to your vest/jacket! There are not any rules about where to put studs, so go wild with it >:D

I can't really talk much in depth about studs because I don't really use them on my vests, but there is this video that will explain more about studs >:)

⛧ Tips ⛧

If you plan on going into mosh pits, don't put sharp/tall spikes on your jacket because you might hurt yourself or others.

4.Other Accessories

Beside studs and spikes, you can add chains, pins/buttons, safety pins, etc.

⛧ Tips ⛧

You can attach chains on your vest/jacket by sewing the last loop on each end of the chain to where you want to place it or by using safety pins

To make sure you don't loose your pins, put a bit of superglue on where the pin closes, same goes for safety pins

I am sorry if this tutorial seems very plain but since there aren't any rules when it comes to making a battle vest/jacket I really didn't have much to explain. Anyway, I hope ya'll understood what I was trying to say and if you have any questions please don't be afraid to send me a message or an ask!!! :)

[just-pineapple-responses]

Just curious, how many shower thought (response) blogs are there? I just dived into this side of tumblr (not gonna make any posts its fun to read though) and I'm already losing my mind

Well there is

The. Literal. Sun.

Plasma...

S p a c e

ALL HAIL THE LIGHT

The void. It shall consume ALL.

A typewriter incase anyone wants to write their will before they die

Also some ink, not related to the typewriter

Also some words, I wonder who'll use them

A hat with no maker and a maker with no hat

The pen is mightier than the sword. It just so happens that this one is evil. Luckily I can summon multiple

Anyone order some coffee?

Ooo, an author

The literal embodiment if of fanart

A fork, nom noms

B҉ r҉ o҉ k҉ e҉ n҉ 

Soap

Soap(for hair)

Toothpaste

🄵🄰🅄🄲🄴🅃

Towel

Bath mat

Washcloth

Bathtub

Bathwater

𝔹𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕓𝕠𝕞𝕓

Bubblebath!

One (1) bath boi

Some M͓̽o͓̽l͓̽d͓̽ (anybody got some strong disinfectant?)

Nvm, the mold has already caused a plague (gettit?) (although user misspelled it)

Nevermind, there's already a parasite here

Mirror

Door!!!

Some curtains

A denim jacket

Blackout

Rainbow

✨ Magic ✨

*Tree poses to assert dominance*

Coconut

(obviously me)

I think popeye dropped a tin of spinch and it became sentient?

Tost

Hummus. dip tost?

Criss Cross applesauce

Wibbly wobbly Wibbly wobbly jellyo

Mmmm océan s o u p

Some poison, a great addition for my soup

Smol bean

Potat

Shower magpie who I haven't seen in a while

Bird (brain)

Frog(×2:Electric Boogaloo)

An axolotl!

Ferret

*looks at smudged writing on hand. Squints. * a raccoon

Stinky bastard man (I just had to put the two next to each other)

Rat.

Becometh crab 🦀 (x2: Electric Boogaloo)

Nya~

Edgy Nya~

Tripod of dog

Brain

Nina i found one of your neurons (if you understand this reference, good job you)

A rotted brain, keep it away before it infects us all, I only have 2 braincells left

Did... Did someone drop their spinal cord?

The almighty binch

The titanic

Narrator

Water based introspection

Existential crisis

Dumbass

Also a pacifier (get it because they're also called dummies and their name is dummy)

A foolish thought to say a sorry sight join the shower community (as you can tell we did Shakespeare in English so many times i pretty much can recite everything lady macbeth said)

ADHD

Ominous

Anonymous

Anxious 🥺👉👈

Some edgy bastard

A person of culture I see (although obsessed with tweed for some reason)

1 Dapper boi

Sarcastic

nice

All smiles and sunshine

HAPPY! (why isn't there yellow 😔)

Affection (Derogatory) (I'm sorry I just felt like it)

~Petty~

Idiot

Disaster

Chaos and Order

Comebacks

'vanishing'

Defences

Threatened

Op is on drugs

All the F s

And F-general

Get out of the shower

Shower responses

Dry

The horny and the simp

Shower sins

Thower shoughts

I take quick showers

Shower thots

Last responder *countdown music*

You have shower thoughts?

Your shower thoughts are stupid

Wtf shower thoughts

Another shower responder

MORE

Just shower responses... responses

Response shower

NO SHOWER! only thought (×3)

Mmm, showery

Penny for your thoughts?

Hello darkness my old friend...

Llawyer

Beepbeep

Prussia

Haywire!!!

furry OwO

A Pigeon got in through the door, who left it open?

I'm feeling devious

You're looking glamorous, let's get mischievous, and polyamorous

Gay is stored in the ass

Gay

Trans

*opens door and walks through with you exaggeratedly* Fellas we got the whole LGBTQIA+ community right here

Enby

Hahaha gender go brrr

Lesbian

Lesbian-thot

Lust

Someone who thinks it funny to clown around

Joker (derogatory)

Haha straight

Dead inside

Some supervillain idk

News. Literally a shower news style responses

r

I cannot believe that I forgot Her Greatest Majesty, the Queen. All Hail Royal

Isaac newton?

M megamind?

Fiftieth

Crackhead

Some Phoenix Wright kinnie

What is a Dean Winchester and why does he have a tentacle fetish?

Well well well, if it ain't a homestuckian

Did someone kill/rob The Doctor or something, their TARDIS was left behind and its blocking my pretzels that I left in the shower

Mined crafts uwu

Well well well, if it ain't- *accidentally makes eye contact and is then killed by some unknown shadowy creature holding what seems to be some sort of cube of dirt*

GOTTA GO FAST

Mishamishamishamishamishamishamisha

Gen Z and ready to throw hands with OP

Not puki

Nom noms

Dip dap

Kensa

B͓̽u͓̽n͓̽g͓̽e͓̽r͓̽ ..........

Someone broke their space bar or something

It's time to d-d-d-d-d-dshower

The magical deity of sleepovers

DON'T FALL ASLEEP. NO MATTER WHAT THEY TELL YOU-

The muffin man genuinely left drury Lane for this

Txmblr

Moonlit nights on a winters day, stars glimmering gently

A child?

🟥

The fae. Just all of them. Every single one.

Crocus? (What on earth does that mean)

*sings* baba blacksheep have you any wool? Because if not you will be killed (this fits the tune perfectly. If not I have failed in everything)

The theatre itself is here... Somehow

Ahoy-hoy

boo

REEEE- *epic geometry dash gameplay to DanTDM's old intro music*

Yardale, not to be mistaken for riverdale and differs to lawn ale or front porch ale or even meter ale

I'll finish this list later

It's gonna be a long one folks

I'm including a ones that haven't spoken since ages ago because

Boy howdy there's new ones tell me who I'm missing now

Please stop thank you very much this is too many i keep having to add to this any new responder must kill a responder to continue the purge shall claim y'all as I will win i recently started watching Danganronpa

Seriously though everyone after mirror must have a battle royale it's too much i doubt all of you will even last longer than today also happy birthday me -dated:28th- do you even realise what sort of commitment you've made to sell pieces of your soul for entertainment and ability to make such epic retorts each and every post?! I sacrifice many souls DAILY to be throwing such bangers into this stuff y'know?

We have a tap guys we can finally wash our hands of all the blood of our enemies

Seriously though who left the door open I don't want a Pigeon pecking at me (the mishapocalypse got them lol)

So many responders so little time before the end of the world

If I'm missing someone please tell me very thank

There are not enough colours for me to assign a different one to each person 😔 also, wtf is on there twice on purpose

WorldHealthOrganisation IS MISSING (note: you may have a joke in place of name or under a category of names)

So there's lore without me?

ALL HAIL THE LIGHT *moth noises*

Okay now there's alternate timeline versions of responders for the benefit of myself they ain't going on the list bud

There is an incorrect role play blog quotes blog and I am crying. Not of laughter. Just wiuwhdhsjhshjxjabjsjdhdjsj

If any new people join I will go back to causing shower wars for the sake of killing you all I'm done I have snapped my laptop is updating 3 times in a row

I will commit crimes.

Does being a shower responder or role-playing seem encouraging to people to join this "community"? Because I'm pretty sure it's the latter

[rukanrin]

Hello, may i give a request? Tbh dis is my first time giving request so sorry for my bad english :') Anyway can u do maybe a bit long hc dmc boys with their s/o who is like have dat mom energy? Like for example Dante gets nag (a lot) bc he's often leaves da shop messy etc. Maybe he earns (small) smacks on his head/arm. Also can add a bit angst in it? Where da boys came back home from a mission full with injuries & their s/o starts going blah blah blah & they sorta got sick of it but when they turn to see their s/o already shed tears cuz just really worry sick about them

Tysm! I've been reading ur hcs and i gotta say I love em all so keep up da good work :D Well maybe i have couple of more requests in mind but dat will be later uwu

Hello there! don't worry about your English,i understand the struggle :3 i had fun planning this out and it kind of turned into a small scenario on the angsty parts,hope you enjoy! -lots of love,Ruka

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

Dante

-oh....oh no!

-he would get scolded so much,about bills,the mess,and most importantly....the damned pizza boxes lying around everywhere

-he would play along with it saying stuff like 'ok mom' or 'as you with mother'

-if you clean the office,he will take a moment to calm down like 'why the hell is it so clean in here,who did this!?'

-will actually clean after that from time to time,not wanting to make you do all the hard work

-if you like reading action books,he will lay his head on your lap as you read out loud to him,both of you giggling if you try to do an impression of a character and you fail

-you're the one in the kitchen,don't ever let him cook,he tried once.....and lets say....eh....the kitchen isn't very 'un-burned'

-He once came back from a mission,covered in his and other demon's blood,he found you sitting on the couch, clearly paranoid,but once you started complaining about how reckless he is he turned around,only to walk back in to see you crying,to which he responded by quickly enveloping you in a hug,telling you over and over that he's ok, after that he still taunted and was playful during missions,but way more careful

Vergil

-queue the choir of angels

-he likes the fact you scold the others, especially Dante for the state of his office,but when it comes to him,he will listen and try his best to fix whatever is wrong

-the only time he ever rolled his eyes at you scolding him is when you pointed out that the books on the bookshelf weren't placed properly like 'what do you mean books are ment to be kept in size order!?'

-He will melt if he comes back to a clean headquarters,but then it will be his turn to scold you for doing all that work,he couldn't even find a single speck of dust anywhere!

-He came back from a mission a few deep cuts still regenerating from the battles,then he saw your curled up form on his desk chair,followed by your anxious complaints and his huffing,but when he turned to face you,you were already on the verge of tears,without even thinking he embraced you, apologising a hundred times and reassuring you he will be fine.

Nero

-woooo momma

-he once found you fixing his ripped jacket,staring in pure shock,it looked brand new!

-if you scold him a bit too much he will give you the title of 'nico's non biological sibling'

-you once found a recipe for a food from fortuna,once he tried it,the poor guy started crying tears of joy,it turned out to be one of his favourite meals!

-after the qliphoth incident,he came back pretty wounded,only to come to you whining and telling him to be more careful,but that anger you were feeling turned into sadness real quick,using his wings and arms to hug you,reminding you that he's not fully human so wounds like this aren't fatal to him,but he tries to not get hit more often after that

V

-ya cant really scold this gothic poet

-you once got into an arguement with griffon over teasing V so much,which ended up in politely borrowing V's cane and giving the little chicken a good wack on the head

-try not to loose your temper if his familiars accidentally misplace something,they are really trying to help!

-he enjoys a clean house but he's worried that you may overwork yourself

-he came home after defeating Niddhog,having taken a few good hits,and came back to you,who tackled him to the ground,whining about how many battles he goes into,he grumbled but soon felt you tremble, signaling you were upset,followed by a lot of cuddles on the floor because neither of you wanted to get up

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 8- Bastards From Space

Summary: These past couple years in Wakanda with Bucky have been the best. Who would have thought some aliens would be the thing to ruin it all.

Warning: violence, angst, reader being a bad bitch, things get intense

Masterlist

Today had started as normal as ever, you woke up with Bucky’s arm slung over your face, his body practically covering you like a human blanket. Then you two got out of bed, did your usual morning routines, and started your day with helping the Wakandians with whatever tough job needed done for the next however many hours.

Which as of now happens to be chopping wood; you sit comfortably on a spared thick log while Bucky smashes the Vibranium axe into another chunk of wood while you watch him with a mischievous smirk playing at your lips. “You’re doing a fantastic job with that by the way.”

Bucky sets another one down as a smile pulls at his handsome face, “Oh yeah?”

“Yes, your form is just...amazing.” You applaud, making a chefs kiss motion with your fingers as he chuckles before splitting another hunk in two.

“You know..” Starts Bucky as he sets the axe against his shoulder while you rest your knuckles against your chin, “this would go a lot faster if you helped me.”

“Then I wouldn’t be able to watch you doing your thing....and by the way you look real fine, did I mention that already?” You add with a click of your tongue while he throws you a humored glare of affection.

“I could use your help.”

You point to the wagon seated next to you, “I did, I threw all these bags and split wood in here so now I’m taking my earned break that I obviously get because I finished my job. You on the other hand don’t deserve an earned break.”

Bucky huffs, deciding to ignore your little bout of sass that so unmistakably is targeted to rile him up, so instead does he mumble out something incomprehensible just for himself to hear, “Yeah, and if we were in that hut I’d show you an earned break.”

Snickering, you cross your arms while studying Bucky’s concentrated face; his dark mane is all wet and unwashed, clothes a bit dirty and unkept with some sweat stains marking them from when you two sparred each other that morning. But God if you don’t think he’s the most beautiful creature to have ever walked this earth in your lifetime. How did you ever get so lucky?

He’s been a true beacon of hope and refuge since Romania, and you’re for certain that if not for one another’s found love. You’d both be much lonelier people.

“What’r you thinking about?” Mutters Bucky while you return from your drifting thoughts. Though soon you’re alerted to the sounds of walking in the grass that draws your attention to the hillside. “Why the fuck is T’Challa here?” You move to stand and a moment later King T’Challa and a couple of the Dora Milaje are walking down the grassy hill with something in their arms to greet the two of you. The king of Wakanda appears a tad bit distressed, face unusually more serious then what marks his features most days. You immediately know something is wrong.

Bucky shares a wary glance with you as the king greets you two with a nod, “Mr. Barnes, Miss. Valerious.” One of his guardsmen unclasps the long black case only to reveal a Wakandian styled metal arm.

Bucky purses his lips as he looks down at the new appendage, “Where’s the fight.”

King T’Challa gives the two of you a hard expression, “On it’s way.”

——

After learning about some angry aliens on their way to take the mind stone from Vision, and that a good portion of the rouge Avengers are on their way to Wakanda. You and Bucky knew deep down something wild must be stirring in the universe for something as big as this to happen, something very bad indeed.

You just have no idea what.

Clasping your black armored top together, you move to put on the Wakandian black leathered Vibranium gauntlets that were gifted to you for this special occasion, not that it’s really that special, but you do look cool. The new armor feels solid and stable against your forearm as you focus on tightening the clasps when suddenly you can feel Bucky’s eyes on you.

“I know you’re looking at me.” You muse, side eyeing him.

He smiles, eyes never leaving you as you lock in the armor to your forearm. He studies the brilliant dark attire that’s laced with a vibrant golden hue, “You look like a warrior.” Admits Bucky almost in awe of how you’re currently looking.

You nod, “I’d feel a little out of place next to the Dora Milaje....but uh, this suit is nice.” You add with a shrug, “Comfortable and practical, they really know how to size right.”

“Yeah....” Mumbles Bucky with a breathy laugh while you focus on the task at hand, oblivious as to where his gaze wanders all over your vessel and the parts your new attire ever-so-slightly accentuates. He just thinks you’re so beautiful no matter how you look, and right now, in Bucky’s head you’re one fine specimen. 

“How’s the new arm?”

Bucky’s wandering eyes soon shift down to the new dark plated Vibranium and golden laced metalwork, “Feels light. Like it’s apart of me you know? I still can’t believe how amazing their tech is.”

“I know right..” You pause for a moment, glancing warily over to the clock, “Well, guess we better get moving. Okoye said they’ll be here soon.” Bucky nods before zipping his jacket up the rest of the way and walking over to your side. He stops to buckle down the left side of your Wakandian styled black vest while you happily let him. Enjoying how close he is to you and the adorable way he sticks his tongue out when fully focused on a task.

Once done, Bucky takes a look at his handiwork, reaching to clasp your one hand with his. He smiles though a sadness hides behind those beautiful blues, “To battle?” Whispers Bucky.

Reaching a hand up to place a soft touch against his stubbled cheek, you smile fearlessly, “To battle.”

Soon the two of you are outside of T’Challa’s palace, standing off to the side as the king and his warriors greet the approaching Quinjet as it lands on the stone landing pad. A minute later, you catch the sight of a bearded Steve, a blonde haired Natasha, Sam, Bruce Banner, and lastly Wanda and Vision as they walk out side by side.

Vision looks hurt, and Wanda has a scar above her brow. Wonder what brute did that?

T’Challa welcomes the team before he nods and turns for them to follow, Vision and Wanda walk past you two as you finally see them clearer through the parting crowd, “How we looking?” Asks Natasha as she follows behind the king, Steve to her immediate right, the others following close behind them. 

“You will have my Kingsguard, the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and...”

“And a semi-stable 100-year-old man.” Quips Bucky as all of you finally come face to face with one another, Steve immediately smiles as you walk next to Bucky. “Plus whatever the hell I am.” You jest as the two of them go in for a hug.

Natasha gives you a smirk as they part, “How you guys been?” Asks Steve, blue eyes flickering between you two.

Bucky looks over at you and shrugs, “Uh, not bad...”

“....for the end of the world.” You deadpan, causing Bucky to chuckle as well as Steve and Natasha.

“Well, it’s nice seeing you guys again...” Adds Steve as Natasha takes a step forward towards you. “We gotta stop meeting each other like this.” Quips the ex-assassin. 

You snort at the little inside joke between the two of you, raising a brow at them, “You know, you guys don’t have to visit just because some aliens are threatening our entire existence. Couldn’t we have saved a reunion for a wedding or something?”

Steve sighs, “Yeah, that would have been preferred.”

“Too bad none of you invited us.” Smirks Natasha as she looks between you and Bucky with a raised brow of her own, his stubbled face growing a small shade of pink while you awkwardly cough, eyes darting elsewhere.

“Yeah, we’re getting there, Nat.” You mutter while rubbing the back of your neck, the thought of marrying Bucky has never actually crossed your mind. You love him, its just, you two married? Actually married? Would he even want that? You have no idea, maybe talking about it before the alien situation would have been helpful in the long run. Too late for that now, guess another time then.

“Alright, come with me upstairs my friends, my sister will see what can be done for your friend.” Adds T’Challa as he takes a step back, Steve, Natasha, and Bruce all following suit and through the doors they go inside to assess the Vision situation upstairs. Leaving Sam and Rodney. 

You watch as Natasha’s body disappears behind the dark glass before turning around to meet a smiling Sam as he wanders closer to you and Bucky. Undoubtedly about to give you two a proper Sam-like greeting, “Nice to see you two weirdos again.” Chuckles Sam as he takes in how much or little you and Bucky have changed since a couple years ago.

“Can’t say the same.” Muses Bucky as you snicker at Sam’s half-offended reaction.

“I guess.....maybe....possibly.....it’s nice to see your annoying face, again.” You add, voice dripping with sarcasm as he nods, “Better then you coming to try and arrest us.”

“Alright, I’ll take it.” He smiles, “At least someone cares about me after all this time.” Side eyeing Bucky as he holds back a laugh.

“Never said that.” You mutter while shaking your head at him, “Definitely did not miss you at all.”

“You were thinking it.” Points Sam, “So was Bucky.”

“I wasn’t.”

About ten minutes later, after fully catching one another up on the happenings missed by the distance and time apart, the hair on the back of your neck pricks with the sound of something large and unfamiliar breaking into the atmosphere above. Soon a smoking metal ship crashes into the forcefield high above your heads, an explosion of fire and debris blasts in its wake as the destroyed object slides off the sides.

“God, I love this place.” Mutters Bucky as the three of you look to the sky.

“Yeah, don’t start celebrating yet, guys. We got more incoming outside the dome.” Announces Rodney on the ear coms as your face falls when more blasts crash against the protective outer barrier of Wakanda.

“Fuck......I’ve never met an alien before.” You mumble as they look to you now, your eyes wide and fearful as you stare up at the sky, “And I don’t think I want to.”

Soon more glaring fiery balls come racing past high up in the clouds headed straight for the Wakandian forcefield, violently crashing against it though nothing pierces through much to your great relief. Not even a minute later T’Challa and the rest of the team are on ground level with the rest of you. Urging everyone into the advanced Wakandian vehicles, you file in close to Bucky and Natasha as the driver begins making haste for the huge fields beyond.

Wind flies wildly past your face as you observe the growing smoke rising up from the broken and burning forest from where the aliens have landed, where they’re preparing for battle far behind the protective forcefield.

The hover vehicle reaches its destination on the knee high grass, immediately everyone files out; your boots fall into the soft ground as you find yourself on the field positioned in between Steve and Bucky while the rest of the Wakandian army keeps strong from your left, right and rear.

It’s a small comfort having everyone so near but it still feels like a false protection; Bruce is held in the Hulkbuster suit standing high and strong above the rest, while Rodney and Sam keep to the skies as they circle around in anticipation for what’s to go down.

You wish you felt better about this, but you’d be a lying fool if you claimed to feel dangerous and fearless, you’re not fighting against mortal men this time. These are beasts from a whole other world with no intention of sparing a life, they don’t care for human problems, they’re here for one single goal and that’s to take the mind stone.

Heart beating nervously in your chest, you turn a worried glance over to Bucky who’s holding a large machine gun in his left arm, he sends you a reassuring nod as T’Challa walks over to speak with Steve.

“There’s two by the perimeter, what our next move?”

“We’ve met the female one before, I guess we’ll go see if they can be reasoned with, though I’m afraid of their answer.” Begrudgingly replies Steve, eyes set ahead at two figures approaching the forcefield. One a tall broad scaled being and the other a half pale faced woman with two dark horns rising upward from her temples.

Steve, Natasha, and king T’Challa collectively decide to walk the distance to face them while everyone else remains in suspense. They speak for about a minute before walking back to the rest of you as the giant alien machinery shifts and rises with strange movement.

“They surrender?” Mutters Bucky as Steve takes his place by your side.

“Not exactly.” Well that sounds fucking promising.

Your body begins shaking with adrenaline as loud thunderous rumbling emits from the forest, a second later, large dog-like creatures race madly out of the tree line headed at a dead sprint for the forcefield.

“What the fuck.” You mutter, brows furrowed in confused bewilderment as the foreign creatures slam violently against the forcefield with little regard for what its doing to them.

Natasha hums, “Looks like we pissed her off.”

You nod as some of the beasts force their way through the guarded perimeter, they scream in fury and pain while their bodies and limbs get phased by the power of the giant shield protecting Wakanda.

“They’re killing themselves.” You can hear Okoye mutter in fearful bewilderment as the screaming creatures push through their violent assault, soon about a dozen break through, racing furiously over the shallow river and across the large battlefield to where everyone is standing.

King T’Challa shouts the battle cry as his army calls their technologically advanced shields to arms in an instant. The alien creatures thunder across the grass, getting closer and closer as the army around you begin shooting them down as fast as they can.

Bullets fly past your head as Bucky begins aiming for the beasts, shooting them down with great accuracy as you breath heavily from your growing adrenaline. Sam and Rodney shoot from the sky; you watch more fall but a plethora of others begins running off to the sides as they attempt at searching for an alternative way around the forcefield.

T’Challa realizing this, calls for the opening of North-West Section Seventeen, which is the one right in front of you all. Well this is it then, you think nervously. Dreading how the events of today may play out within the next hour, or ten minutes for all you know.

“This will be the end of Wakanda.” Mutters M’Baku as the section is lifted.

Okoye nods, face stoic and fierce, “Then it will be the most noble ending in history.”

T’Challa steps to the front lines before valiantly shouting, “Wakanda forever!” And with that does the warriors cry with courage and might as everyone including you begins a dead sprint across the grassy field, pumping your arms hard, you feel a thrill of strange excitement pulsing throughout your entire vessel as your boots thunder against the ground in tune with the beasts that charge onward.

Steve races inhumanly fast, you right on his tail as T’Challa makes ground to your immediate right. The rest of your fellow warriors keeping up as best they can. You don’t remember ever unsheathing your claws, or when they sliced violently into the thick skin of the first alien you met.

But soon your hands are covered in the warm inky blood of the creatures you’ve killed as you don’t have time to think, only kill and survive is all your mind is on. You’re practically on autopilot as the beasts thrash and slash at everyone in sight.

Suddenly one of them traps you between it’s bear paws and the rough ground, sharp daggered teeth chomping at your face as you drive your fist straight through it’s jugular and back out again, instantly a spurt of sticky dark purple blood sprays onto the side of your face as you turn away from the gory scene.

Shoving it off of you, another one punts you into the rocky earth, in retaliation you throw a clawed fist right across its shoulder. Making sure to sink it in deep when you reach its stomach. Screams of pain are all you hear as it dies, going still as stone while you jump right back into the action.

Without warning, about three pin you to the ground while you grunt and groan from the weight and their knife sized claws digging into your armored sides, damn you’ve really had better days. Shoving your Adamantium talons right through it’s exposed chest, it immediately goes limp as it’s two friends strain to reach you while it’s annoyingly bulky vessel pins you to the rough ground.

Your lungs struggle to take in a decent breath when suddenly a crack of lighting sounds throughout the battlefield, a second later the large alien bodies are thrown off of you from the force of bright white electricity, killing them instantly.

Sucking in a deep breath of relief and general oxygen, you jump to your feet only to take notice of a blonde man in some type of royal armor with an axe in one hand and sparks of lighting in the other. Oddly enough, a raccoon and a walking humanoid tree to either side as he scans the horizon before turning around and belting out, “Bring! Me! Thanos!” Before taking flight as more electricity sparks and shoots all around him.

Yeah, alright that’s normal. At least they’re on your side.

He lands and a giant plethora of white hot lighting emits all around him, killing many of the alien creatures where they stand. Though there’s no time to celebrate this small victory when giant circular machines of war burst forth from the ground, many going in different directions, but these couple begin heading straight in yours.

Eyes widening in fear, you book it in the opposite direction as T’Challa yells for his men to fall back for the tree line, your heart races a mile a minute as you force yourself to keep running through the exhaustion and slight pain in your left thigh from a heeling bite mark.

But just as the razored metal closes in behind you, a bright whispy red halts it in its place. Turning towards the source, you’re almost comforted to find Wanda at the hands of the machinery’s demise. She yells, throwing her hands back as the metal clashes across the battlefield, killing the beasts as they go.

And she was up there this whole time?

Turning to face more foes, you look over to notice as the female alien stalks across the ruined battlefield towards Wanda at an alarmingly hefty pace, dark rusted yellow eyes set and predatory as she reaches her oblivious prey. Smacking her armored fist across Wanda’s head, the Sokovian tumbles into a ditch, horned lady alien trailing after her.

Shit, you should do something.

Taking out another beast, you book it over to help Wanda, jumping into the wide trench behind the woman, you catch the end of her heated threat to Wanda, “He’ll die alone. As will you.” Venom tripping off of her every word, God why are they so angry?

“She’s not alone.” You growl, face painted with inky purple blood, claws shimmering in the sunlight as she whips around to face you. Her eyes trail over your body as she scowls in deep irritation, before handing her an unfriendly smirk, “Come on you ugly fuck.” You growl.

She lunges at you, weapon drawn as you dodge her deadly blow by the sharp thin blade. She quickly whips around and is kindly greeted by your claws that rips the dull white flesh of her lower face. Blood seeps out as she screams, face flaring a fierce anger as she powers through and thrusts her blade into your left shoulder. Fucking bitch!

You’re immediately greeted with a sharp stinging pain that rips violently into your body from the assault. A boot rudely kicks you backwards onto the hard earth as Okoye smacks her dagger across the woman’s back, distracting her from trying to end your life. Like that would work.

Blood pools hot and angry out of your opened flesh while Okoye and Natasha handle the horned bitch from behind you and Wanda. Your hands push you off the gravely earth as Wanda shares a fearful glance with you, giving her a pursed lip grin. You jump to your feet and assess the escalating situation before you; Okoye is breathing heavily on the ground as Natasha holds back the woman with her shocking stick while pinned on her back, straining to keep the opposing blade away from her throat.

“Hey!” You shout, causing the woman to lift her gaze from Natasha to you, she doesn’t even have a second to react as your clawed fist slashes a deadly blow across her face. She immediately stumbles back in shock as blood spirts wildly out of her deep cuts, her eyes going wide as saucers when you land a powerful kick into her lower torso, sending her body flying upwards only to be mauled by one of the circular razors rolling past.

Blue blood marking your already dirty face, you turn to look down at Natasha as she glances between the three of you, face dotted in blue blood just the same, “That was really gross.” Grimaces the blonde as you give the others a once over before jumping back out into the action.

Minutes fly by as you fight your way to the tree line closest to the Wakandian palace, suddenly Steve’s voice is heard in the coms, “Everyone, on my position. We have incoming.” And with that do you follow Bucky and T’Challa as they race into the woods where Steve, Natasha, Sam, Bruce, and Wanda is protectively holding Vision as they keep seated on the grassy earth.

Collecting your breath, you walk over to Bucky as everyone feels a soft hunting breeze blowing the trees around, “Something’s not right.” You mutter worriedly as he shares a nervous look with you.

“I know. Just stay close to me.”

You nod before giving him a weak reassuring smile, a moment later a strange anomaly of purple, blue, and dark grey clouds present themselves a small distance in front of you all. A tall figure of great stature and physical strength walks out from the odd whispy mass, he’s larger then anyone you’ve ever seen before, skin colored purple and golden laced armor of another world.

“Cap. That’s him.” Announces Bruce as you heart begins racing once more, oh shit oh shit oh shit. Fuck he’s really big.

Steve raises his two arm shields, “Eyes up. Stay sharp.” As he starts walking in the direction of you’re assuming is this Thanos everyone has been talking about.

Hulkbuster thunders past, but as Bruce reaches Thanos, his body turns a transparent blue and falls right through the purple alien before lodging himself in the rock of the ascending cliffside.

Steve’s next as he throws himself at Thanos, the titan uses his golden gauntlet when a sudden purply wisp of energy throws Steve into the trees. T’Challa lunges, but is swiftly stopped when Thanos’ giant hand wraps around his throat. He’s then thrown him down like a ragged doll; Sam is next, wings fold in on themselves and soon he’s down too.

Rodney right after as Thanos uses the gauntlet to crush him from within his suit, he’s promptly thrown to the side like a rock. Bullets fly violently through the air as Bucky fires shot after shot at the purple titan to no avail, he’s thrown across the ground like nothing.

Terrified yet too much full of rage to think, you race for the bastard titan as he pushes Okoye to the side, Natasha left disabled when tree roots throw themselves around her. He quickly takes notice as you jump on the roots, heading straight for him with an animistic rage flashing through your eyes.

His fist rises as he calls more roots to action, you skillful dodge their grip as you make a desperate jump for the titan below you now. He’s fast, but not fast enough to evade your clawed fist, the middle razor slashes a clean line right across his left eye as you tumble to the ground behind him, finding your footing in an instant.

Yourself now between him and the mind stone that’s currently getting destroyed by a tearful Wanda from behind you, though you’re not paying enough attention to fully realize what’s going down, you breath heavily while eyeing up the bulky man.

The pissed off titan whips around to meet your courageous glare, left eye missing, dripping with warm purple blood that trails like an ugly waterfall down his scared cheeks until it spatters to the forest floor. Face now visibly angered and very much in pain as he stares you down.

He takes a threatening step forward as you take a cautious one back, eyeing you up, he nods, “A clean hit, I’m afraid this one won’t heal for me unfortunately...nonetheless, I am impressed by your valor small one, but your bravery will be in vain.” Speaks the titan as you stare up at him with shaky breaths.

oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

A second later the power of his golden gauntlet sends you flying into the trunk of a thick tree, knocking you out on impact.

When you awaken with a jolt, your nose is wet with drying crimson that trails across your lips and chin. Nothing hurts anymore but your body feels incredibly weird, taking in a deep breath, you stand on shaky legs. Eyes scanning the area only to find a confused Thor who’s looking rather dreadful and lost.

Steve quickly runs up to him, eyes searching around for Thanos who’s nowhere to be seen, “Where’d he go?” Wonders Steve as you slowly walk over to them, “Thor....Where’d he go?” Asks Steve more urgently this time, blue eyes looking around to no avail. Thanos is gone. Just like that.

But how?

You quickly catch movement to your left, but it’s just Bucky walking over to the three of you. Heart filled with relief, you start walking over to him as he locks eyes with you, a confused expression crossing over his features as he looks over at his left arm.

You follow his puzzled gaze and watch as his arm begins to disintegrate like ash on a windy day. Bucky finds your concerned face; panic, confusion, and fear flashing through his stormy irises as he takes another desperate step to reach you, “Y/N?” Is all you hear as the rest of his body begins turning to dust right before your very eyes.

His gun falls to the ground with a thud as the rest of his body disintegrates to nothing more then ash and dust upon the grass. You freeze, it feels like your heart as just been frozen in ice and smashed with a steel sledgehammer without remorse.

You swallow, walking on trembling legs to where his ashes remain, you slowly kneel. Hand touching the area as delicately as you would hold a newborn, this isn’t real this is just a shitty dream and you’ll wake up any second with him right by your side.

It’s just a dream. But you know, it’s not.

Steve wanders to your side before kneeling down and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. Biting your bottom lip to hold the lump back that’s building in the back of your throat, you turn your head to meet him, your eyes glossed over with unshed tears.

He lowers his head in defeat as you stare bitterly back down at the ground where Bucky once was, lip quivering uncontrollably as you fight back a waterfall of hidden tears. The pain in your heart almost too much to bear. “Sam! Where are you?!” Shouts Rodney, a voice to bring you back to the world.

No, not the others too. How many did he take?

Blinking hard, a couple stray tears patter onto the brown ashes as you rise, Steve doing the same, you watch as he walks over to Vision who’s void of all color and taken of all life, a small crater marking the demise of his life force, the mind stone.

He kneels down to meet the body as Natasha runs into view, she quickly halts once her gaze falls onto Visions corpse, mouth agape in shock. Bruce, Rodney, that little raccoon, and Thor coming to from behind them as you amble closer to the distraught six, though your legs feel like they could give out at any moment.

“What is this?” Wonders Rodney as he looks from Steve to you and then over to Thor, “What the hell is happening?”

Tears stream silently down the sides of your cheeks now, they make a clean line from all the other dirt and blood that marks your skin. Breathing heavily, Natasha looks over to you, “Y/N?” She asks, voice wavering as her eyes trail over your mournfully stoic face.

He can’t be gone, not Bucky, not him.

-

Tagged: @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @bizarrebibitch @atomicpersonacheesecake @jmstz @staygoldsquatchling02 @marvelbros-oneshots @shawnartmendes​ @mischiefmanaged71 @jckie94​  @iamasimpingh0e

[scuttling]

Birthday

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 2,648 Tags: SFW, Pre-relationship, Drinking, Pre-relationship minor Morgan/Garcia Summary: The team goes out for Sophie's 30th birthday. Collection: Sophie Cortes timeline, 7-12 Months at the BAU (See Masterlist for reading order) Link to AO3 or read below! “Time for another shot?” Prentiss asks, dropping two handfuls of glasses onto the table in front of them, and Sophie laughs, shaking her head indulgently.

“No more shots, Em. I’m already feeling the last two.” Her cheeks are slightly flushed, corroborating her comment, but she’s still standing steadily, so she can’t be too far gone.

“Come on, it’s your birthday!” The rest of the team joins in with a chorus of similar comments, but Hotch just smiles at their happiness and lets them battle it out amongst themselves.

“You only turn 30 once, you know,” Morgan reminds her, a hand casually thrown over her shoulder, and Reid frowns.

“You only turn every age once; what’s the significance of 30?”

“All he’s saying, Reid,” Garcia chimes in, taking a sip of her pink, fruity drink, “is that every year older is a chance to celebrate. Especially in this line of work.” Sophie sighs, clearly giving in to her friends’ methods, and she walks two fingers forward, to a full shot glass.

“Fine, fine: I will drink one more shot…” she begins, pausing as is for dramatic effect, “if someone gets me cheese fries.”

“I’ll buy the birthday girl some cheese fries,” Reid offers, and she pulls him down by the arm and gives him a kiss on the cheek, which earns howls from the team and a blush from Reid, and then she takes the shot.

“I’m hungry too, Spence, I’ll come with you,” JJ adds. “Anyone want anything?” Morgan, Garcia, and Prentiss rattle off orders, and Hotch takes a sip of his beer, doesn't notice that Sophie has made her way toward him until he gets a whiff of her perfume.

“Not hungry?” she asks, leaning against the table and facing him. She looks very beautiful in a short, silky orange dress, leather jacket thrown over her shoulders, and he lets his gaze linger for a moment.

“No, I think I’m going to call it a night.” He has reports that need to be reviewed, documents that need to be signed, and though he’s enjoying watching his team on a rare night out, he can’t help but feel old and out of place—especially as she celebrates her 30th birthday, for god’s sake. He can’t even remember his 30th birthday.

“Oh Hotch, you can’t.” She sets a hand on his arm, gently, looks up into his eyes with a clear gaze. “I know I don’t like to make a big deal of my birthday, but I’ll happily play that card with you if it will get you to stay.” Her eyes are sweet, and they look wide, almost pleading—it’s a puppy dog look by anyone’s standards, and it turns out he’s helpless against it.

“Okay, I’ll stay a little longer if it means that much to you,” he agrees, teasing a little, but her reply seems serious.

“It really does.” She smiles softly, then removes her hand from his arm, almost like she forgot that she put it there. “I’ll even share my cheese fries with you.”

She makes good on the promise, thanking Reid profusely for the gift and then running a knife through them so they make for smaller bites. She lifts her fork, takes two or three bites, and sets it down, handle pointing in his direction; he’s really not that hungry, but the way she shares with him is so effortless that it feels like an offering he shouldn’t refuse.

Later, Morgan and Garcia are dancing, Prentiss is talking to a woman she knows from the office, and Reid is making conversation with someone at table over, when Sophie takes her last bite of fries.

“They’re still not together, right?” she asks, pointing her fork at Morgan and Garcia, and Hotch shakes his head.

“As far as I know, no.”

“Same here,” JJ pipes up from across the table, nursing her drink. “And you know I’d know; I know everything.” Sophie laughs, sips her beer. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. It’s just a shame, I guess; two people who are so drawn together shouldn’t fight so hard to stay apart.” JJ gives Hotch a quick glance, which he can’t interpret, then looks back down at her half-eaten plate of fried pickles, picking at the crumbs.

“I don’t get it either. If the FBI doesn’t care, why do they?” Sophie sighs, looking back at the laughing, dancing couple, props her chin up with her hand.

“They don’t think they deserve it.” When he and JJ both look toward her—the sound of her voice is almost sad, unusual for a night like tonight—she straightens, downs the last of her drink. “I assume that’s why, I mean.” JJ gives him another brief look, and he doesn’t know what to say. It’s almost 2 AM when the party breaks up, much later than he intended to stay out, but he’s happy he did. Sophie isn’t drunk, he doesn’t think, but she’s much tipsier than she was hours ago, before the cheese fries—and she’s really adorable.

“I love you guys so much,” she tells them all as they put on their coats. “I love you, Spencer, for buying me cheese fries, thank you buddy.” She wraps her arms around him, almost dangling from his neck, and he laughs, squeezes her tight.

“I love you too, buddy, you’re welcome.” She moves to Garcia next, hugs her tight around the waist.

“I love you, Pen. I love my card and your smile and I love coming into your cave for candy when Morgan gets on my nerves.” They laugh and Morgan acts affronted, which only makes them laugh more.

“I love you too, birthday babe.”

“I love you Morgan,” she begins, pulling him into a one-armed embrace, “even though you annoy me sometimes, ‘cause we’re Chicago twins and we both like the Cubs and we both know the best pizza is from Tony’s on 4th Avenue.”

“You know it, girl. I love you too.”

“JJ,” Sophie calls, drawing out the last letter, and they hug each other equally tight. “I love you ‘cause you’re the coolest one of us; I don’t make the rules,” she tacks on when the rest of the group scoffs. “She’s super cool and you guys know it.”

“I love you, especially when you’re drunk,” JJ tells her with a laugh. “Should have made you eat more than half a plate of cheese fries.”

“It’s not your fault, I blame Emily Prentiss,” she says, accusatorily, turning to the woman in question and giving her a hug, which Prentiss returns with a pat. “I love you even though you kept handing me drinks all night. You’re a bad influence.”

“Then I guess I succeeded,” she says with an affectionate smile. “I love you, birthday girl. I’m glad you had a good time.” They separate, and when Sophie turns to Hotch, the last in line, her face changes. Her expression isn’t one of awkwardness or irritation, but… almost like resignation, and he can’t exactly tell what that means.

She smiles softly, quirking her lip as if asking if it’s okay to proceed, and he opens his arms, tries not to smile when she sags against him as if, of all the hugs she’s received tonight, this is the one she wanted most.

“I love you, Hotch,” she says so quietly he has to strain to hear, and he moves his hand carefully over her back.

“I love you too.” They stay like that for a good twenty seconds, and when she pulls back, she smiles sheepishly.

“Okay, you guys have stayed out long enough because of me. I’ve gotta order my Uber.” Morgan and Prentiss both insist they can drop her off, talking over each other, and he decides to spare them both, speaks in his unit chief voice for the only time that night.

“You guys focus on getting each other home; I’ll get her home.” Everyone agrees easily, Sophie included, and they are walking out to the parking lot before she speaks again—not exactly slurred, but a bit slower than normal.

“How are you still so... Hotch-y? You had as much to drink as I did.”

“I’ve probably got 75 pounds on you, so I metabolized it faster, I guess,” he answers with a chuckle, steering her to his SUV, and something about that makes her groan.

“Oh, I know... all about that.” He comes around to the passenger side to open the door for her, and for a moment she just looks up at him, slowly wets her lips. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She slips into the car, buckles up, and he closes the door with a sigh.

In a perfect world, this would be him taking her home from a date, maybe kissing her goodnight on her doorstep… But the world is as imperfect as she isn’t, and his little crush is both inappropriate and foolish, so he resigns himself to his role and vows to get her home safely, and nothing more.

They arrive outside of her apartment building after about fifteen minutes of softly murmured directions, and he puts the car into park, turns to look at her.

“Do you want me to come up with you?” he asks, and she smiles softly, tiredly.

“Yes, but no. I’ll be okay.” The look on her face is sweet, almost tender, and he keeps himself from reading too much into it. That way lies madness, he knows.

“It’s no trouble. It would make me feel better, to know you made it safely.” Her smile gets brighter, and she sits up, unbuckling her seatbelt.

“Okay, sure. Thanks. I could make you a cup of coffee for the road, if you’d like.” He nods, and they both climb out of the car, heading toward the front door of her apartment. He keeps his hands near her, ready to catch her if she wobbles, but she is steady on her feet even in the skinny heels she wears.

She unlocks the front door, then takes him up a couple of flights of stairs, stopping outside apartment number 12. Her keys turn easily in the locks, the door swinging open to display a very clean, very white apartment. “Thanks for coming up with me. You didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate it,” she tells him, hanging up her jacket on the hook behind the door.

“I wanted to,” he tells her, honestly, a little distracted by her bare shoulders, the slim straps that rest on them. She looks back, and if he’s caught staring, she doesn’t mention it. She leans her butt against the wall, reaching down to unclasp the buckle on her shoe, and for the first time, her balance isn’t perfect; she wobbles a little, and his hands catch her waist to steady her.

“Do you need help getting your shoes off?” he asks, looking down into her eyes, and hers are warm, liquid as she stares back. Her tongue sweeps over her bottom lip, and if it were any other woman, he would take that as an invitation to lean in and kiss her. Instead, he drops to one knee and unbuckles her shoe, slides it off carefully, repeats that with the other foot. He sets the shoes on the shoe rack by the door, stands back up to full height, touches her arm gently.

“Thanks, Hotch.” Her voice is soft, cautious, and it looks like she wants to say more, but the silence goes on too long, and she eventually clears her throat. “Do you want that cup of coffee?”

“Sure. Please.” She pads into the kitchen, which is, like the rest of the apartment, sparkling clean and gleaming white, switches on the coffee maker, and pulls a travel mug down from the cupboard overhead. “I like your apartment. It’s very… clean.” She turns, back against the counter, and smiles.

“I don’t like to leave a mess, since we never know where we’re going to be.”

“It’s a little bare,” he says gently, trying not to profile too much, and she looks down like she’s self-conscious.

“You know I’m private. I like to keep my photos and stuff in the bedroom.” She walks past him, down the hallway, looks over her shoulder and signals for him to follow.

Her bedroom is still very white—white comforter, white sheets, white pillows—but her dresser, headboard, and end tables are made of wood, and the dresser is littered with silver picture frames.

One is of Sophie and a young man who resembles her so much, it must be her brother. One is of the two of them with a pair of adults, their parents, probably. One is of Sophie with a young man and woman who look like they could be twins, another of Sophie and the man he knows is her previous partner back in Chicago.

There’s one of her SWAT squad, Sophie in the middle with a big smile and an even bigger gun. Then there’s one of the BAU team, from a get-together Garcia hosted; he remembers her apartment looking like a craft store threw up there, every bright color and pattern you could imagine, and he remembers Sophie’s face when she saw it, called it gorgeous and fitting and very Penelope.

Would he consider this apartment very Sophie? This room, maybe, but that’s about it.

“I love these. Especially this one,” he says, holding up the photo of the SWAT team. “We need to take you to an outdoor range one day, so you can blow Morgan’s mind.” She laughs, light and airy, moves closer so she’s looking at the photo with him.

“That’s a great idea. He’s seen my special tactics, now for my special weapons.” She touches the photo of her with her brother, picks it up to show him. “This is my brother, Leo—before he became a constantly high competitive surfer in San Diego.”

“Do you see him often?” Her face falls, and she sets the photo back down with a sigh.

“I haven’t seen him in about a year. He doesn’t agree with my lifestyle, calls me a government pawn.”

“He doesn’t agree with your lifestyle?” he asks, a little surprised, considering his habits, but she just nods.

“Yeah, he’s very ‘go with the flow’, finds me morally rigid. Thinks I’m not doing work that needs to be done, as if our job is less important than surfing.” He laughs, and she laughs with him, bumps playfully against his arm. “You should feel special, you know. No one else has seen my photos.”

“No one at all?” That can’t be right, she’s had people in her bedroom, certainly…

“Nope. I don’t date often, you know. And I one-night-stand even less than I date, so. No one has had the chance.” It makes him sad, generally, that she keeps her photos so guarded, that she doesn’t share them—he’s happy, though, to know she doesn’t have men in and out of her bedroom, as if that matters when he knows nothing will ever happen between them.

“You have to give someone the chance,” he says, pulling her in for an easy, one-armed hug and pressing his lips to the top of her head. He’s not sure why he does it, but it feels so right he doesn’t really question it.

“I know,” she says quietly, wrapping her arm around his waist, too, and leaning against his shoulder. “I just want it to be the right someone.” She looks up at him, so soft and beautiful in just her slip of a dress, feet bare, that his chest aches with the urge to kiss her.

He doesn’t, of course, and never will, and the moment eventually passes, their eye contact breaks. “I should make that coffee,” she murmurs, pulling away, and tries not to feel too bad about the loss.

[diningwiththeasquiths]

PTSD!Poe from that one post has moved into my head and lives there rent-free now. So here's a Gingerpilot ficlet. 😏

Poe doesn't know why he'd been such a dick to his friends. Again.

He just feels so... angry and irritable all the time. Nothing he does is ever enough. And nobody seems to care as much about their cause as he does.

Still, he shouldn't have snapped at Rey like that.

She and Finn have been steering clear of him since the incident. It's probably been one time too many... No wonder they'd rather avoid him.

Right now it's far past midnight. He's aimlessly walking around the base, tense and restless. A few times he'd grabbed a bottle of booze from the not-so-secret stash in the Falcon, just to help him sleep. But it made him feel guilty; what if there was an emergency and he wouldn't be able to fly?

So now he's pacing around in big circles in the hope of tiring himself out.

When he walks past Hux's room for the fifth time, he notices the light is still burning. Of course Hux is still awake. Poe stops and quietly stands on his tiptoes to peer inside the dirty window of the little cot they housed him in.

Hux is sitting with his back to the window, bent over a small, rickety desk. He's taken off his jacket and Poe can count the knobs of his spine through his thin undershirt.

In a split second he's made his decision and is knocking on the glass. The sound is soft but Hux still jumps, startled. He lets him in without question though, which strengthens Poe's resolve.

He's noticed the way Hux has been looking at him ever since he joined their cause. It flatters him, really. And it's something he can use. Yeah, this will definitely help him take his mind off things for a while, and hopefully even relax him enough to fall asleep.

"Hey Hugs. Care for some company this fine evening? Don't think I haven't noticed you checking me out." Hux opens his mouth, probably to argue, but Poe talks right over him: "You totally have been! And it's fine, in fact I find it very flattering. And it makes me wonder... Would you like to have your way with me? Right now, I mean? Just say the word Hugs, and I'm yours."

Not his finest work. Thankfully, Hux doesn't seem to mind his straightforward approach.

"I don't have any... supplies," is his only reply, practical as always.

Poe curses, not in the mood to sneak all the way to the medbay for some lubricant. And he doesn't want to take ages with the preparation either. He just needs to stop feeling so much for a while.

"You've got soap here, right? Yeah, you're a clean guy. Let's use that."

It works surprisingly well. It's not long before Poe is on his knees and elbows on the bed with Hux's cock up his ass.

Hux feels good inside of him, it's not exactly painful but intense enough to distract him from everything else. Hux grips his fleshy hip tightly with one hand and pushes Poe's head down to the thin mattress with the other.

The only sounds in the room are their laboured, heavy breathing and the creaking of the narrow bed. Poe absent-mindedly hopes it won't break underneath their combined weight and movement.

He's getting close now. Supporting himself on a forearm and shoulder, Poe wraps his hand around his dick and moans into the sheets. Nearly there.

Stars it feels good. Who knew Hux could fuck like this. His thrusts are constant and precise, almost machine-like. Poe never wants it to end.

It does end, of course. Soon enough he tenses up and groans, coming all over the sheets and his fist in thick spurts. He nearly topples over. Hux is thrusting more slowly and shallowly now, probably feeling him clenching around himself.

After Poe relaxes into the aftermath of his orgasm, another wave of something makes its way through his body. It constricts his chest. Before he fully understands what is happening he is heaving with loud sobs.

Hux pulls away from him completely as soon as he realises what's going on. Were Poe to look behind him he'd see a stupefied look on Hux's face, which morphs into an uneasy frown.

Curling in on himself, Poe can't do anything else but lie there, breathing heavily with tears still streaming down his nose and stubbled cheeks. He feels completely overwhelmed all of a sudden.

After a few moments, a careful hand is placed on his back. It radiates warmth and feels somewhat grounding. A thumb strokes him ever so slightly, in an attempt to soothe. When Poe's breathing calms down a bit, Hux seems encouraged to start rubbing his back in slow circles.

Eventually Poe starts to feel more in control of himself again. His body unfolds and he lies on his side, facing the rough wooden wall. He makes no attempt to get up. He doesn't want to walk out into the night and be all alone again, but he also doesn't feel like talking or otherwise engaging with Hux. Except for touch, he likes it when Hux touches him. He just wants to lie here and accept whatever kindness Hux is willing and able to give.

Hux eventually cleans them both up a bit and maneuvers them underneath the soiled sheets. Poe gratefully lets it all happen. When Hux reaches out yet again, placing a comforting hand on his waist, Poe moves himself closer, silently encouraging Hux to wrap his arm around him. Now they're pressed together tightly, securely. Suddenly Poe feels exhausted. He exhales shakily and any remaining tension leaves his body.

They end up falling asleep just like that.

When morning comes and Poe opens his eyes, Hux is already out of bed; he's seated at his tiny desk and sips a mug of something steaming hot.

"Hey. Sorry for what happened last night," is the first thing Poe blurts out in a raspy voice.

"It happens to the best of us."

"Don't tell me you've broken down like that after sex before."

"Well. I usually hide it better."

Poe cracks a smile at that and huffs out a laugh through his nose.

Suddenly he faintly hears his own name being called. Apparently people are looking for him. His heart rate immediately shoots up. Perhaps something's happened?

"I gotta go."

"Of course," Hux says, standing up and handing him his trousers.

"I'll see you around, okay?" Poe says, whilst quickly getting dressed.

After Hux gives him an affirmative nod, Poe slips out the door. He's enjoyed his time with Hux more and on a much deeper level than he thought he would. Definitely something to explore further at a later date. If he doesn't perish in a space battle before they can meet up again, that is.

They're still calling his name. When he hurries towards the area where the sound is coming from, he can see that the people shouting are Finn and Rey. They look very relieved to see him. BB-8 rolls after them and lets out a big beep when he spots his human. He quickly zooms past Finn and Rey, and Poe crouches down to hug his droid hello. The cool, round shape feels more comforting than it has felt in a while.

"Hey... We were wondering where you were," Finn says carefully as they walk up to him.

"Just out and about," is Poe's vague answer. "Had a bit of a rough time last night," he adds, feeling like he owes them at least part of the truth.

"Yeah we figured-"

"We've been talking and thinking about ways to help you," Rey interjects, bumping into Finn's side in a familiar way. She seems as determined as always.

Poe isn't sure if there's a solution for what he's going through right now, but the fact that they care and want to help does make him feel less alone.

Of course they will always be there for him. He's got the best friends in the galaxy. And his enemy-turned-ally-turned-lover is not so bad either, apparently.

Smiling at them a bit sheepishly, he counts himself lucky and thinks that perhaps it will all be okay in the end, somehow.

[after-avenging-hours]

Heart Skip [15]: Steve x Reader

Series Summary:  A soulmate AU where from the moment you are born, two partners share a heartbeat.  They race in times of joy, slow in times of sadness, and they skip at the same moment.

Word Count: 2617

Warnings: None

Heart Skip / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 /  Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 /  Part 13 / Part 14

Gif Credit

The splattering of water droplets against tile is the only sound that fills the empty space of the bathroom.  Steve’s broad frame nearly fills the small shower stall.  He stands unmoving, shoulders tensed, one hand pressed to the tile as his head hangs low.  He’s so lost to his thoughts; he doesn’t even hear you approach.

You place a tentative touch to the center of his back, stepping behind him.  He inhales sharply, snapping out of it.  He glances at you from over his shoulder before pushing off the wall and turning around.  He sees the concern in your eyes and pulls you in close.

“I’m okay,” he tries to assure you.

You press your cheek to his chest, the water droplets pressing into your skin and sliding down your neck.  “No, you’re not.”

He holds you tighter, resting his head against the top of yours.  You wrap your arms around him and mold your body to his.  You both need this.  To feel as much skin to skin contact as possible.  Not to incite anything sexual, but because both of you need the reassurance.  Need to know that, at least physically, you were both still okay.  You had come far too close to losing each other.

Steve fingers ghost up and down the length of your spine, feeling the reflection of your heartbeat against his chest.  Slowly some of the tension in his body begins to ease.  Not everything, but at least it’s a start.

“I should have gone back for him,” he whispers just above the sound of the shower.

“Steve…”  You squeeze your arms around him.  “There’s no way you could have known.  And even if you had…  There was no time.  You had to stop Schmidt.”  You lift your head from his chest to look into his gaze.  “None of that is your fault.”

His eyes are sad as he looks back.  “It feels like it is.”

You lift a hand to cradle the back of his neck, pulling his head down until your foreheads touch.  You both stay like that until the water begins to turn cold.  You reach around him to shut off the water before leading him out of the shower. You both towel off together.

“What can I do to help with the mission?” you ask.  You’re so sick of feeling useless, you’ll do just about anything.

Steve meets your gaze for a moment, thinking it over.  “Well, I can’t exactly walk into SHIELD headquarters stark naked, now can I?” His lips quirk into a small grin.

You raise a curious brow. “What did you have in mind?”

 “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” you grumble quietly, pulling the uniform taught over Steve’s torso.

He grins down at you in amusement.  “If you’re gonna fight a war, you gotta wear a uniform.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re damn lucky I created this based on your actual measurements.  It’s supposed to be hanging off a mannequin, not going into battle.  This suit isn’t going to protect you like your other one.” Your fingers fiddle with the straps going down his front, making sure they’re at matching lengths leading to his utility belt.

“I know.  I’ll be careful.”

You release a low sigh when there’s not much else you can mess with.  “I guess it’s a good thing I don’t work there anymore either.  I’d totally be fired for this.  I may have been the one to make it, but it’s still stealing from the government.”

“We’re not stealing it. Only borrowing,” he grins crookedly.

You raise an unamused brow. “Borrowing without asking is still stealing.”

“If it means that much to you, we can give it back when I’m done.” He chuckles.

You shake your head and attempt to suppress a smile. “Just shut up and kiss me already.” You tug at his uniform to pull him into a kiss. His gloved hands move up to cup your cheeks as he kisses you long and slow.

“Cap, we gotta go,” you hear Sam from the other room.

You both pull back with equal sighs of disappointment.  “Duty calls,” Steve mutters, eyes flickering over your face.

“Good luck, soldier. Stay safe.”  Your hands give his uniform one last squeeze before you pull back.

He nods once.  “You too.”  He steps forward for one last quick kiss.  “I love you,” he breathes against your lips before moving back.

“I love you, too,” you whisper, turning away as he begins to head for the door.  You don’t have it in you to watch him leave.

You move to the pile of clothing that Steve set aside after changing into the uniform. You reach for the jacket he had been wearing during the fight against Bucky. It’s dusty and smells like gunmetal and smoke, but it’s still warm. You find yourself slipping it on over your shoulders trying to draw comfort and strength from it.

“Are you ready?”

You turn to find Fury standing in the doorway. “For what?” you ask in confusion.

He lifts his good arm, a set of car keys dangling from his hand. “You’re my ride.”

You follow him outside to the nondescript van Maria had been using. You scramble into the driver’s seat as Furry climbs into the back where he’ll be hidden from view. He gives you a set of directions to a private airfield nearby where he has a helicopter waiting.

You follow his directions, trying to take back roads and avoid popular areas to stay off SHIELD’s radar. You’re not even sure how much time has passed by the time you make it to the airfield. Based on your accelerated heartrate, you can tell that Steve has already gotten himself in a world of trouble. Your hands tighten around the steering wheel as you do everything you can to stay calm.

“So, what now?” you ask after parking on the runway near a black helicopter.

“Now?” Furry responds, before you hear the back door to the van slide open. “Now, you stay here where it’s safe until we get back.” He exits from the van and slides the door shut behind him.

“Wha-” Your jaw drops and then you quickly scramble out the door. “Hey, that’s not fair! I’m here to help!”

Fury releases a long sigh and looks at you with zero amusement. “You want to talk to me about what’s not fair? What’s not fair is getting hunted and nearly killed by the very agents that I trained. What’s not fair is having the agency that I have dedicated my entire life to stripped apart in a single day. What’s. Not. Fair. Is having to send your boyfriend to destroy the one thing that was going to be my legacy of protection for the world. So, yeah… you can throw your tantrum and cry all you want, but that won’t change the fact that the best place for you is here. Out of the way, where you can’t get hurt, and where you won’t jeopardize the mission.”

All you can do is stare, mouth agape as he walks away from you and heads for the chopper. The rotor blades soon begin to spin and once the wind picks up, you’re forced to retreat back inside the van. You slam the door shut like a sulking child and watch as the helicopter lifts into the air and disappears out of site.

You sigh loudly and drop your forehead down against the steering wheel. With nothing but silence engulfing you, your thoughts are left to run rampant in your mind. No matter what you did, Fury would only ever see you as Steve’s weakness. The chink in Captain America’s armor. A nuisance. Something to be pushed aside, or locked away for safe keeping.

And maybe he was right. You would have been captured by those Hydra agents if Maria hadn’t come for you when she did. Fury had actually told her to prioritize finding you first, because you were a greater risk to lose to Hydra, than Steve. You couldn’t even manage to stay out of their crosshairs for a single day. What in the world did you expect to be able to do against an entire building and three Helicarriers full of those people?

“Stupid,” you berate yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as they begin to sting. You try to fight off the tears, knowing that if Steve can sense your distress, he’ll become distracted. Yet another thing to add to the list of why you’re his weakness.

Your breath catches when you feel a jolt in your chest. And not a good one. Your eyes snap open and the blood drains from your face. Something is wrong.

Your heartbeat sputters and struggles to keep going, despite the lag that seems to be on the other end. Steve is hurt. Bad.

And you’re all the way out here.

You lift your head back up and find your hand moving to the keys in the ignition. Gritting your teeth, you push your despair to the side and steel your resolve. “Screw this.”

Turning the ignition, you bring the van back to life and make a U-turn on the run way. You’re not entirely certain how to get back, with all the random turns and loops Fury had you take in order to get to the air field. Now that you think about it, the crazy route probably had more to do with confusing your own sense of direction, so you wouldn’t be able to get back on your own, and less about the defensive maneuvers to keep Hydra off your tail.

With a determined huff, you pick a direction and drive, letting your instincts and your connection to Steve guide you. After traveling a few aimless miles, you manage to catch a freeway entrance. From there, the rising smoke in the distance is the only confirmation you need to know you’re heading in the right direction.

You watch in the distance as the last helicarrier left in the air slams into the side of the Triskellion. Your stomach flips upon the impact and you just know that Steve is still on that ship. You pull over abruptly on the side of the freeway and jump out of the van. Your knees slam into the pavement as you bend over and expel what little food you’d had earlier that morning.

Rising back up onto shaky legs, you wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand and stumble around the van. You walk off the freeway and into the copse of trees that line the bank of the river. You lean your weight against the trunk of a tree as you get a front row seat to the horror show before you. The last hellicarrier is steadily losing altitude as the other two burn in a fiery heap of rubble upon what’s left of the Triskellion.

You watch as pieces of debris fall from the belly of the flying ship, and mixed in the middle is a body clad in a red, white, and blue uniform. When his body hits the water, your vision swims and your knees give out once again. You are certain that these are going to be your final moments in this world, when a second body falls out of the ship and dives straight into the river.

Your heartbeat slows and it becomes the only sound you can hear, ringing in your ears. Time seems to come to a standstill.

Then, suddenly, two heads pop back up to the surface.

You release an audible gasp, finding the strength to get back on your feet. You stumble like a newborn fawn, tripping over tree roots and rocks as you make your way down the river bank.

“Steve!” you don’t even feel the water against your legs as you rush forward to help the man dressed in black carry him to shore. The man releases his metal grasp from the strap on Steve’s shoulders, setting him down on the muddy river bank. “Steve!” you call out to him, a choked sob leaving you as you take in the cuts all over his face and the wound on his torso.

A weak cough escapes him and a dribble of water leaks from his open mouth. You whimper in relief when he continues breathing. Your fingers brush against his jaw, tears spilling over and running down your cheeks.

The man in black shifts his weight and begins to step back.

“Wait!” you lift your gaze to meet his. “W-where are you going?”

He stares back at you blankly. “I don’t know.” His voice comes out broken and raw. He turns away and takes a few more steps.

You quickly scramble to your feet. “Bucky!” The man pauses once again, his posture stiffening. “You are Bucky, aren’t you?” you question carefully.

He keeps his back toward you for a long moment, before turning his head just slightly. “I don’t know,” he repeats, this time with anguish in his voice.

Your heart breaks for him. “There’s a van pulled off the side of the freeway, just a short way up. The keys are still in the ignition,” you tell him. “And here,” you quickly shrug out of Steve’s jacket that you’ve still been wearing. You hold the garment out to him. “To cover up your arm.”

Bucky looks down at the metal appendage and frowns before slowly turning toward you and taking the jacket with that same hand. He hesitates for another second, before lifting his gaze to yours once more. “Thank you,” he says the words strangely, like he’s grown unused to the phrase.

“Thank you for saving him,” you respond, glancing briefly back at where Steve lays.

Bucky nods once, stiffly, before turning and disappearing into the brush.

You release a shaky breath and crumple down once more at Steve’s side. The wound at his stomach is continuing to bleed and you know that if you don’t get help for him soon, you will both probably die anyway.

You reach for the commlink in his ear and pull it out. You hope that the thing is water proof, but it’s the only way you’ll be able to contact anyone else. You tuck the device into your own ear. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

All you can hear for a moment is static, before that cuts out and you hear a voice. “Y/N, is that you?”

You sigh and drop your shoulders in relief. “Nat! I’m with Steve. We’re on the west side of the river. He’s hurt. I think he’s been shot.”

“Keep pressure on the wound. We’re coming to you.”

“O-okay.” Your hands shake as you place them over the blood-soaked patch on his uniform. He groans in pain as you apply pressure to the spot, but continues to remain unconscious. “Don’t you die on me, Soldier,” you try to say firmly, but your voice breaks.

It feels like hours have passed by the time you hear the beat of a helicopter. Looking up, you recognize Fury’s copter as it flies above you and lowers onto the freeway. Nat and Sam burst through the trees moments later.

Sam kneels down on the other side of Steve, opening a first aid kit to begin triaging the wound. Nat gently grabs your shoulders and pulls you back. “Hey, you did good,” she encourages, pulling you to your feet.

“Is he going to be okay?” you ask.

“An ambulance is already on the way.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you look down at the blood covering your hands. “Oh God…” you barely manage to get out, before the world fades to black.

Part 16

[sunsetcurve]

learn to love without consuming (1/4)

fandom: knight squad relationships: arc / ciara, minor or one-sided arc / oc and ciara / oc word count: 4,603

a/n: eek. it's finally here. if you follow me here you know that i've been working on this for a few weeks (months?), but the idea has been sitting in my drafts for basically forever. almost since i watched the show to begin with. the recent resurgence of the ks fandom prompted me to dig this back up and gave me the motivation to actually try and finish, because fuck it! i love my babes and i want more of them.

so quick note is that this picks up pretty soon after the season 1 finale but disregards basically,,, everything that happens in s2. s1 and the finale proceed the same way except prudy never finds out ciara's secret, so she and warwick don't know at the moment. this chapter was initially gonna have more scenes that drove the plot/romance arc but once i got upwards of 6k with a few major scenes left i decided it would be best if i split the chapter up, so for now it’s just a lot of me trying to work around the convoluted knight squad lore to establish my own. i know that's not exactly what everyone is here for, but i promise things on the romance/action front will pick up soon. i'll place warnings as detailed as i can get without spoiling in the tags and notes as i go, but just anticipate fairly significant violence by chapter 3.

anyway! i have talked enough. the title is from thus always to tyrants by the oh hellos, the rating is t for swearing/violence, there are three more chapters that are in the process of being written, and reviews are like crack as far as i'm concerned. i really hope you like this! thanks for reading <3

dedications: this fic is first and foremost for @ciara-knightly, who is not only my amazing beta but also the whole reason this fic exists. she helped me so so much with the development of the plot and worked through it with me even way before i decided to really start writing it, and i wouldn’t have been able to do this without her. all of the notes she left after beta-reading were so so helpful and really made this whole fic make sense so basically i owe her my entire life. she inspires me to be a better writer all the time and i love her. everyone say thank you shona!!! also tagging my lovely friends and some people who have expressed interest, who are in no way obligated to read this; @juliesdahlias @mistyskiesrambles @dr-rigatoni @willexs @taylorswiftrulestheworld @onplanetmars @neshatriumphs @zackmartin @julies-molinas @soni-dragon @yagorlemmalyn @hopefulbeautifulfool @cactus-con @waterisntreal @onetwothreefarkle @bitchmilsky

summary: “Now that Ryker isn’t a threat anymore, the councils are supposed to resume as planned, and Astoria is set to hold the first one two weeks from now.”

��Okay,” he says slowly. “That sounds exciting.”

Ciara nods. “It is! I finally get to meet some of the other nobility, and actually get to be involved in Astorian politics for once. But my dad won’t let me go without an escort,” she says, and then hesitates. “Which is where you come in.”

read it on ao3

The morning before training that day, Arc is testing his skills against a heavy bronze padlock when Ciara enters the squad room and drops a brown paper bag on the table in front of him. 

“These,” she announces as he raises an eyebrow at her, “are for you.”

He pulls open the package and is instantly greeted with a rush of warmth and the smell of vanilla. “Dragon puffs?” he says, half in awe. It’s a clear bribe, but he can’t help but shove a sugar-coated sweet in his mouth anyway. They’re an Astorian original and possibly the best thing he’s ever tasted; he’d tried them once at a bakery near the castle and hasn’t stopped thinking about them since. 

“Okay, what do you want?” he says then, words muffled around the cream and pastry.

Ciara pulls a face at his manners, but still manages to blink innocently at him. “Can’t I just do something nice for a friend?” she tries, but it’s half-hearted.

He swallows and grins at her. “Nice try, Princess. Your dessert deliveries always come with an ulterior motive.”

Huffing a sigh, she sits down next to him. There’s this subtle air of anticipation lingering around her, one he can only sense based on how in tune they are after so long of being teammates. The two of them have this easy way of reading each other now; they’ve been spending more and more time together, something having shifted in their dynamic after the battle against Ryker. He can’t quite place what it is, but he knows it’s only brought them closer. “Do you know what the Council of the Five Kingdoms is?” she asks finally.

He shrugs. “Sure. Nobles from each kingdom used to have a big ball every year to talk trading and politics and other boring stuff…”

“Except there hasn’t been a council since Ryker’s invasion, because the kingdoms have been isolated and preoccupied with their own safety,” she finishes for him. Her fingers tug at the lacing of her leather gauntlets; she’s nervous, but he still isn’t sure why. “Now that Ryker isn’t a threat anymore, the councils are supposed to resume as planned, and Astoria is set to hold the first one two weeks from now.”

“Okay,” he says slowly. “That sounds exciting.”

Ciara nods. “It is! I finally get to meet some of the other nobility, and actually get to be involved in Astorian politics for once. But my dad won’t let me go without an escort,” she says, and then hesitates. “Which is where you come in.”

Arc chokes on his second dragon puff. “You want me to be your escort,” he says flatly, once he’s finished coughing, “to the Council of the Five Kingdoms?” Normally he’d jump at the chance to spend a night dressing up and eating castle food. But the council is a decidedly different scene; there’s a set of formalities, politics underlying everything, and too many chances for him to expose his lack of knowledge when it comes to Astorian customs. Not to mention that Catalias’ royals will be there. He doesn’t know if he can stomach looking them in the face, knowing what they did to Seagate.  

Ciara grimaces. “Look, I know it’s not exactly your thing, but my dad won’t let me go alone. And this really means a lot to me.” Her eyes are pleading, and Arc feels his resolve chipping away.

“Can’t one of your actual guards go with you?” he tries. “Or, Prudy or Warwick or someone?”

“I’ve already talked to my dad about it,” she explains. “You’re the only Knight School student he’d let protect me, because you already proved you could when Ryker invaded. Besides, if something were to happen…you’re the one person who knows I can handle myself as Ciara.”

There’s this brief stretch of silence where Arc works his bottom lip, and Ciara looks as though she’s debating something. “Also,” she adds finally, with the soft flicker of a hesitant smile, “I thought it might be fun to go with you.”

Arc blinks at her, caught off guard by the admission. There’s this sudden buzz in his chest that he can’t push away; in truth, he doesn’t like the idea of her spending the night with someone else either. Maybe, by some miracle, this will actually be a good thing. “Alright,” he relents. “I’ll be your escort.”

Ciara’s face breaks into a grin. “Yes! Thank you!” She throws her arms around him, and he’s shock-stilled, a rush of warmth flooding through him as he hugs her back. When she pulls away, her eyes are shining with excitement. “Okay, I’ve gotta go tell my dad you said yes, and there’s a million things to do, but I’ll see you at training later. You are the best.”

“I expect dragon puffs for life!” Arc calls after her as she disappears through her passageway. He leans back into the couch, lightheaded, and in that moment, he realizes abruptly that there’s almost nothing he wouldn’t do for her. 

And he is so completely screwed.

*

Two weeks later, Arc is standing outside Ciara’s bedroom, waiting for her to finish getting ready.

It feels odd to be out here in the open. Generally his visits to her chamber are accompanied by an air of secrecy, but tonight, he’s a guest in the castle. He’s dressed like it, too, decked out in the guards’ typical formal wear: pressed brown pants, a white shirt laced up the front, and a navy leather jacket trimmed in gold, with Astoria’s crest on one shoulder. He looks kind of dashing, honestly.

Despite the confidence boost his new look offers him, his hand keeps drifting to the hilt of his sword. It’s sheer force of habit; he only associates this brewing sense of apprehension with battle, and his muscles are responding in kind. He’s glad, at least, that he turned down the other guards’ offer to lend him one of their ceremonial blades and instead has the familiarity of his own. Hopefully he won’t need it, but it’s a steadying presence all the same.

“Almost ready!” Ciara calls from inside, and Arc carefully unclenches his fingers from around the leather grip of his sword. He has to keep it together tonight; she’s made it clear how much this means to her. The last thing he wants to do is embarrass her in front of nobles from all five kingdoms.

Well, four, he reminds himself. Seagate won’t be attending. There isn’t anyone left to represent them. 

The thought makes his stomach twist. 

He’s saved from having to dwell on it by the sound of Ciara’s door unlatching. “Better prepare yourself, Princess,” he teases, leaning against the wall, “I look pretty good, and the last thing we want is for you to get too smitten—”

He breaks off as she emerges from the doorway, all the air in his lungs leaving in a sudden rush. He’s trying hard not to be the cliche of a guy scraping his jaw off the floor at the sight of a pretty girl in a dress, especially not like this, with Ciara—but he can’t help but think that it’s ridiculously unfair of her to come out looking like that. Her dress is a pale blue, falling gently off her shoulders and cinching at her waist, and her tight curls are weaved with strands of gold and tied into a low knot, some of them falling loose to frame her face. There’s a crown of gold leaves and rosebuds settled in her hair. 

“You...um…” Arc searches for his voice, “you look amazing.” His mouth feels dry.

Ciara smirks and reaches up to adjust the collar of his uniform. “You don’t look so bad yourself. I’m definitely smitten,” she jokes, like it’s nothing for them to be flirting openly. It should be nothing. Except his skin burns where her fingers brush against his neck, and he suddenly wonders if she can hear his heart pounding.

He clears his throat. “We should probably get to the ballroom.” 

She nods. “Give me your arm,” she says, looking at him expectantly. When he raises an eyebrow, she continues, “You’re my escort, remember?” 

“Oh, right.” He lifts his arm obligingly, his cheeks warm.

“I really wish we’d had more time to go over Astorian customs,” she breathes as she takes it, more to herself than anything. “Between training and helping with preparations, I’ve been so busy…” His nerves must show on his face, then, because she squeezes his arm gently and amends, “Sorry. You’ll be fine, don’t worry. Just stay close to me, okay?”

“Not a problem,” he grins without missing a beat, and Ciara scoffs and shoves him, the smile tugging at her mouth taking all the bite away from it. 

They can do this, he thinks. The two of them have kept up appearances for each other for months now, have fought and trained and battled Ryker together. They’re Arc and Ciara, unstoppable duo. One little party should be nothing.

As they make their way down the hall towards the ballroom, flanked by guards, Ciara lowers her voice. “When we get there, most of the nobles should be inside already. The herald will announce my father first, then us, and then each of the other three kingdoms. We’ll be beside the thrones as they come in—you’ll stand by me, left side—and once they’ve all been announced, we can leave the thrones and mingle. Bow to each of the rulers as they come by.” 

They had, at least, practiced his bow. Arc swallows back the dread in his throat; all he has to do is stand beside her and greet the other royals, it’s easy enough. For a moment, they linger outside the entrance to the ballroom, until an official-sounding voice announces the King. “We’re next,” Ciara whispers to him, eyes glinting with excitement. “You ready?”

He nods back at her, and the voice calls, “Accompanied by Sir Arc...Princess Angelica of Astoria!” They step into the ballroom, greeted with applause. Arc doesn’t think he’s ever been in a place this lavish; the walls are white, accented in deep gold, and the floors are polished to a gleam. The ceiling looks hand-painted, ornately decorated in constellations and swirling designs, and crystal chandeliers dangle over their heads, casting a golden glow over the whole room. He tries not to look too awe-struck. 

They make their way to the platform on which the thrones rest, Ciara nodding and smiling and waving at the other nobles as they pass. She stands next to her father, and Arc takes his place on her other side, placing his hands behind his back and trying, for all the world, to look like he belongs there. He wonders suddenly if he’s stood too close to her, and if it would make things worse for him to shift over now, and if his indecision is showing on his face—

And then, almost imperceptibly and hidden from the ballroom’s view by the folds of her dress, Ciara reaches over and links her pinky with his. It’s a tiny gesture, a friendly reassurance, but Arc feels a tide of warmth swell in his chest all the same. He lets his gaze flit to her for just a moment, and her lips are graced with a small smile as she tugs his finger gently. 

His breath hitches, and he fights to keep his face a passive neutral as the herald announces the next kingdom and he turns his attention back to the doorway.

“Presenting King Hugo, Queen Luciana, and their son Prince Isaac of Catalias!” 

Arc’s stomach turns as the couple enters, trailed by their son, all three of them swathed in lavish red and gold. Their reputation precedes them; he knows little about the prince, but the king and queen are infamous for their hoarding of wealth, their favorance of the rich nobles and landowners of their kingdom over the common people. Arc knows them best for what they had done to Seagate. 

His hand twitches for his sword, but he fights against the instinct.

True to form, the two have a haughty look about them, all starched clothes and stiff smiles as they bow to Ciara and the King. The two of them return the greeting with Arc following their lead—grudgingly.

“I am so pleased you could join us tonight,” the King smiles, a little tight-lipped. “It is high time that Astoria and Catalias united again.”

King Hugo nods back. “I couldn’t agree more. The honor is ours.” 

Arc detects a veiled sort of tension between the two of them, hidden well underneath the cordial formalities. He glances at Isaac, whose eyes are trained intently on Ciara even as he and his parents move to greet the other guests. Something about it is unsettling.

He’s so focused on Isaac that he almost misses the herald’s announcement of the next kingdom. “Queen Damyanti, and her children Princess Aadhya and Prince Kavan of Khurjan!”

Queen Damyanti is the picture of elegance, draped in silver silk that almost seems to glow against her dark skin. Aadhya looks around fifteen, with the same deep eyes and regal expression, and Kavan must be ten or so. He grins toothily as the three of them approach the thrones and bow.

The King’s expression is much warmer now. “Queen Damyanti. It has been too long. I trust Khurjan is doing well?”

“Not quite as well as Astoria, perhaps,” she replies, and it’s teasing, no sharpness to it. “This ball is absolutely lovely. Princess Angelica, you look so beautiful. Just like your mother. I was so sorry to hear of her passing.”

Ciara’s eyes go soft. “Thank you, Queen Damyanti,” she nods back. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”

“You as well. It’s a shame your sister couldn’t make it, but hopefully we’ll all gather again soon.” She gives a small, departing nod and joins the rest of the nobles, Aadhya giving them a bright-eyed smile and Kavan waving enthusiastically as they follow her. Ciara laughs. 

“And finally...King Jesper of Vysalt!”

Arc is confused for a moment; he wonders if he had remembered the name of Vysalt’s king wrong. Then a young man with a head of dark curls and a smattering of freckles against tawny brown skin enters, his crown just slightly crooked. His eyes are wide and dark, and a jagged, white scar cuts across his cheekbone. He can’t be much older than they are.

“He’s the king?” Arc whispers to Ciara under his breath as Jesper makes his way over to them. “How old is he?”

Her expression twists a little in sympathy. “Seventeen. He wasn’t supposed to inherit the throne so soon. His parents were killed when Ryker’s army took over his kingdom.”

Arc isn’t sure what to say to that. He knows what it’s like to lose everything to Ryker—he can picture the flames every time he shuts his eyes. But he hadn’t known about Vysalt or the fate of its royals. They had been close allies with Seagate at one point, one of the only other kingdoms without much wealth, and their king and queen had been known for their generosity. 

Somehow Arc had thought the damage had been done to Seagate alone, but now he wonders how the other kingdoms fared, if they suffered just as much. If any of them came out as unscathed as Astoria did.

“Your Majesties,” Jesper says as he bows, and there’s a note of pity in the King’s expression as he returns the gesture. Arc can only imagine how he feels about someone so close to his daughter’s age having to run a kingdom on his own. 

“King Jesper. How are you doing?” 

It’s a more personal question than he had asked the other royals, Arc notes. Jesper smiles easily; it’s soft, highlights his deep dimples and makes his dark eyes glimmer. “Well, thank you. Vysalt is recovering with time. As am I,” he adds, voice quieting for a moment.

The King nods back. “That’s good to hear. Let us know if there’s anything Astoria can do to help.”

Something flickers in Jesper’s expression, hard to read and gone so quickly that Arc wonders if he imagined it. The young king bows again before moving to join the others, but not before he catches Arc’s eye and smiles warmly. It surprises him—the other royals had hardly given him a second glance—but he returns it with one of his own. Beside him, Ciara lifts an eyebrow, her expression a mixture of amusement and something else he can’t place. 

“What?” he asks quietly, and she shakes her head, glancing away. 

“Nothing.”

He wants to pry, but the King is clearing his throat, getting ready to address the room. The chatter dies down as all eyes turn to him.

“My fellow Astorians,” he says in his deep, booming voice, sounding more formal than Arc has ever heard him, “and my guests from our neighboring kingdoms...I am honored to welcome you to our castle, and so pleased that we could all be in attendance tonight.”

Not all of us, Arc thinks, but no word of Seagate comes up. 

The King continues, “For decades, our kingdoms have been isolated and divided by Ryker’s armies. We have long suffered under his forces, but his threat is gone for good. Thus, tonight is more than a council; it is a symbol of our victory, a symbol of our unity as we move forward and rebuild. So enjoy yourselves! After all, we have so much to celebrate!”

To Arc, the sentiment feels hollow. He got his revenge, and of course he’s glad that Ryker can’t hurt anyone else, but it doesn’t change the fact that Seagate is in ruins. It feels suddenly difficult to celebrate with the weight of his village’s absence lingering in the air around him. The rest of the partygoers don’t seem to share his hesitance, though; the room breaks into applause and cheers, several of the guests raising their goblets jovially. 

Ciara gives him a subtle nudge, jolting him out of his thoughts. “Now we get to mingle,” she grins, leading him off the throne platform and towards the crowd. 

He follows dutifully as she heads toward the table where the other kingdoms’ royals have gathered, Astoria’s king staying behind to greet the other royals. Queen Damyanti is in conversation with King Hugo and Queen Luciana, but she doesn’t seem entirely pleased about it, and Jesper and Kavan are laughing at something Aadhya has said. Isaac hovers next to them, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. He has his father’s golden hair and clear blue eyes, but the frown on his face is entirely his mother’s.

It disappears, though, the moment he sees Ciara approaching them. “Princess Angelica,” he greets her, with a little too much enthusiasm for Arc’s liking, “I’m so honored to finally meet you. You’re even more radiant in person.” Before she can say anything, he takes her hand and kisses it swiftly. Arc narrows his eyes.

Ciara gives a forced-sounding chuckle and curtseys, pulling her hand back. “Thank you, Prince Isaac. I’m glad you could make it. Allow me to introduce Sir Arc, my guard and escort for the night.”

Arc bows—and if he never has to bow to another pompous royal again, he thinks, it’ll be too soon—and Isaac offers him a dismissive sort of half-smile. Any further interaction they would’ve had then is thankfully avoided by the other royals noticing Ciara’s arrival.

“Hi, Princess Angelica!” Aadhya says brightly, with a neat little dip of a curtsey, “I’m Aadhya.” When Ciara and Arc begin to return the gesture, she waves her hand with a tiny scoff. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. Formalities. Just come sit.” She returns to her chair and pats the seat next to her, and Arc decides right there that he likes her.

Ciara takes the offered chair, and Arc takes the only other open spot, in between her and King Jesper. As Ciara launches into conversation with Aadhya, Jesper turns to him. 

“Hi,” he says, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’m Jesper.”

Arc bites back a laugh at the unnecessary introduction. “I know who you are, Your Highness,” he replies lightly.

“I know. I was just trying to give you an opening to tell me who you are.”

Oh. That’s unexpected. There’s no prerogative behind his words, no assertion; Jesper’s grin is almost bashful, his voice easy and bright. He doesn’t sound like a king, just a seventeen-year-old boy trying to flirt. Arc can’t help but return his smile.

“I’m Arc,” he says. “Normally I’m a student at Knight School, but I’m the princess’s guard and escort for the night.” 

“Wait,” Aadhya pauses her conversation with Ciara to lean over and look at him, “You’re the Arc who defeated Ryker?” 

“I helped,” Arc says with a shrug, and the princess’s eyes go wide. She turns to Ciara.

“Were you there too?”

“I was—” Ciara pauses for a moment, “hiding. I was hiding. Arc got me to safety.” 

He grins a little at her, tongue between his teeth, knowing it must be killing her to hide what she was actually doing. She narrows her eyes and kicks his leg under the table in response, a silent shut up. He lifts his eyebrows, like, I didn’t say anything, and she rolls her eyes in an entirely non-subtle manner. 

Across the table, Queen Damyanti is watching their exchange with a raised eyebrow, Arc notices belatedly. She has a mildly amused look on her face, but doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, she states, “Battling Ryker face-to-face must have been quite the experience.” 

“What was it like?” Prince Kavan asks eagerly from beside his sister.

Aadhya elbows him. “Kavan,” she hisses, but Arc just grins.

“No worries. It was…” he trails, trying to think of what to say and suddenly aware that all the royals’ eyes are on him. He shifts in his seat. “It was scary, obviously. He had the Armor of Astoria, and a whole army with him, and most of the Astorian knights under his spell. But, y’know. We Knight School students are pretty formidable. We all took him on together. Wouldn’t have been able to do it otherwise. I wasn’t half as scared as I would’ve been without my squadmates watching my back.”

He glances at Ciara, who smiles softly and nudges his foot, gentler this time. Jesper has that same unreadable look on his face and Aadhya has her chin propped in her hand, her expression amazed, but Queen Luciana gives a snide sort of scoff. 

“It’s a wonder it took so long to defeat him, then, if a group of students cut him down so easily,” she says. “Perhaps Ryker was never as great a threat as we all made him out to be.”

There’s a cut of silence across the table in which Jesper visibly stiffens. “With all due respect, Queen Luciana, Ryker’s attacks were devastating. Or have you forgotten what happened to my parents?” he demands, without any respect at all. His eyes are blazing. 

“I’m merely pointing out that the only real damage done was to the less...fortified kingdoms,” she sniffs. “Ryker only breached Catalias’s walls once, and he was driven out rather quickly.”

“Well, not every kingdom has Catalias’s resources.” Ciara sounds like she’s choosing her words carefully, frustration masked well behind them.

King Hugo gives a huff of a laugh; his blue eyes are cold. “My dear princess, you have no cause for indignation. Astoria lost the least to Ryker, what with your,” he waves a hand, “magic bubble.”

Ciara opens her mouth but falters, brow furrowed, and across the table, Queen Damyanti speaks up. “Nevertheless, Ryker was still a formidable enemy to all of us. We were only prepared for his attacks because he targeted Seagate and Vysalt first. And Seagate’s destruction is a clear example of his power.”

“Oh, even you can’t argue that Seagate was rotting long before Ryker got to it, Damyanti,” Hugo replies swiftly, and Arc’s breath catches in his throat. Queen Damyanti shrugs in agreement, her expression passive; Arc almost stands up, but Ciara’s hand on his leg underneath the table stops him. 

“Don’t,” she hisses, just barely loud enough for him to hear, “Let me handle this.”

Though as it turns out, she doesn’t have to. Before she has a chance to speak, Jesper is already bristling, his voice sharp: “As if Seagate’s corruption justifies the destruction of its people?”

“It’s thieves and criminals, you mean?” Isaac scoffs. “Seagate was a wasteland. The kingdoms are better off.”

The words ring in Arc’s ears, alongside the pounding of his blood. They sound painfully similar to what Ryker had said to him on the mountain—rats and thieves, I did the five kingdoms a favor—and he thinks fleetingly that he’s going to be sick. He’s always known that Seagate was looked down on by the other kingdoms, but hearing them say so casually that what happened, the flames and the destruction and all of the death, was deserved—

“The people were only thieves and criminals because Catalias took advantage of them,” Jesper argues. “I hope I don’t have to remind you that it was your government that poured money into the gangs of Seagate for their own profit and allowed them to stage a coup in the first place.”

The words are deadly and cold, but Arc feels a flash of admiration for Jesper; the king has no obligations towards Seagate, and yet defends it like his own. King Hugo’s gaze hardens. “You’re blaming Catalias for Seagate’s problems?” he says with a derisive laugh. “If anything, Ryker’s attacks only revealed that Seagate was a kingdom full of people that weren’t worth saving.”

“That’s enough,” Ciara says abruptly. Her hand tightens on Arc’s leg, and he can no longer tell if he’s the one trembling or if she is. There’s this burning fire behind her eyes; she looks, Arc thinks briefly, the same way she does in battle. “What happened to Seagate was a devastating tragedy, and I won’t let you treat it as otherwise. Those who disagree aren’t welcome here.”

It’s a weighted statement, one she doesn’t entirely have the formal authority to make, but no one dares to contest it. A heavy silence settles over all of them. Arc doesn’t know how long he can sit there with all the heat under his skin; he doesn’t remember when his hand found the hilt of his sword, only that he’s gripping it tight enough that the leather bites into his palm. He wants to stand up and tell them that none of them would be here if it weren’t for him, a thief from Seagate. In truth, the only thing holding him back is Ciara. In a battle between her steady hand and the storm in his chest, she wins without even trying.

He doesn’t say anything or look at her, but her gaze flits to him for a moment and she just knows, standing up. Before she even opens her mouth, Isaac is on his feet too. “Going so soon?” he asks. “Would you care to dance, Princess?”

She looks at him coolly for a moment. “I would, actually.” And then, she turns to Arc, offering him her hand, “Sir Arc, dance with me?”

Arc blinks up at her and takes it as he stands. “Absolutely, Princess,” he says, letting her lead him away from the table and glancing back only long enough to catch the dumbfounded expression on Isaac’s face.

[ribbonetteart]

I redesigned Rouge!

A LOT of notes about her redesign below:

Again, much like the Cream redesign, I’d like to start with the disclaimer that I don’t hate Rouge’s current design! I think her current look is cute but I did take some issue with it here and there, and here was the checklist I had in mind when redesigning her:

Put some red on her! Her name is ROUGE

Ditch the jumpsuit. I get the impression that the “sexier” aspects of Rouge make her appear older than she is, so I wanted to try making her look more like she’s 18.

Wing arms!!! There’s nothing wrong with putting the wings on her back but I wanted to emphasize her being a bat.

Give her a new alt outfit. In Sonic Heroes, Rouge got a new outfit that was quickly retired. I wanted to give her a debut outfit and a new outfit that would stick around.

Switch out the heart motif for a diamond motif. I think the heart motif is cute! But I think making diamonds Rouge’s thing is more fitting since she loves jewels more than anything.

Rouge’s Body

The 1st reference sheet is Rouge’s bare body. She’s still got white fur, but her body is gray. I actually came to the decision to give her gray body fur last-minute; I wanted to give her a white belt in her 2nd outfit, but her white midriff made the 2 things blend and I needed some contrast. I drew (ba-dum-tssh) lots of inspiration from Honduran white bats, and thus I gave her a little bat nose and smoky colored wings (I actually wanted a more gray-ish purple wing color, but my scanner gave me this gray instead. the gray-purple is more noticeable in the other reference sheet though).

I gave her a furry body because I thought it was weird that other Sonic character’s bodies had fur and Rouge was just all skin, save for her head. She has chest fur now because I thought it made her look more like a bat and because I’m not that comfortable with an 18 year old baring visible cleavage all the time, so this hit 2 birds with one stone. I kept her arms and legs furless, again, to make her look more like a Honduran white bat. I also wanted some more body diversity within the sonic cast, so I gave Rouge a plumper body and wider legs since she usually uses her legs in combat.

I wanted to keep her skin tone similar to the one she has in Sonic Adventure 2, but I ditched the eye color. I really wanted to put some red on her somewhere since her name is Rouge, and making it her eye color means that she has red on her all the time, so I thought it was perfect. On one final note regarding her body, she’s got visible nails now! Her old, beta name before it was “Rouge” was “Nails”, and I imagine she uses her nails for digging or combat so I made them more prominent.

Rouge’s Clothes

“That Government Spy Rouge the Bat”: SA2 G.U.N. Agent Rouge

Her 1st outfit would be her outfit in her debut appearance while she’s an agent for G.U.N. I still wanted her outfit to look trendy without looking too much like a uniform as she is supposed to be an undercover agent in SA2. The decision to use a blue analogous palette was to make it look even more like a police uniform.

Her gloves are short, half gloves. With arms on her wings, obviously her opera gloves weren’t gonna fit comfortably. The cropped gloves fit more comfortably on her hands without bothering her wings.

Rouge’s uniform is a sleeveless turtleneck and a “skort”, or, shorts with a skirt on it. The skirt flap has a pocket where she stores anything that won’t fit on her utility belt.

She’s also got piercings now! I think they suit her for someone who’s obsessed with jewels.

Her boots aren’t flashy, but they’re a chunky heel with metal soles to pack a harder wallop in her kicks.

Fly in the Freedom: Post SA2 Rouge

With this design comes with a bit of a rewrite. Rouge no longer works under G.U.N., free-lancing or not. After the events of SA2, she’s quit and gone on to do her own thing (however she’s still a grade A thief).

Overall, her new post SA2 look is rather asymmetrical compared to her more uniform look in the 1st design. I thought the asymmetry would convey her new rebellious, independent status and contrast more with the uniform she sported prior to when she took order from G.U.N.

I wanted this design to look more cohesive with team dark. Her Sonic Heroes outfit made her stick out from the other team members as she had a more purple and pink color palette compared to Shadow and Omega’s red, black, and gold. For her palette, I wanted to incorporate more of those colors to really make her look like the leader of Team Dark. The reds are mostly located on her diamond motifs, and the gold on her is on any metal she’s adorning.

Her outfit includes a cropped leather jacket, dark purple-ish black form fitting pants, white knee high boots, and white leather utility belt and cropped fingerless gloves. Since she no longer has a skirt flap or pocket to store extra items, I gave a her a little fanny pack at the back of her belt. I gave her a cropped jacket to make her look a little more rebellious, seeing as her teammates are rebels of their own. The leader of an edgy team has gotta look edgy herself, I figured! The dark make up is also to help with her new, bold and edgy look.I also wanted to show off Rouge’s chest fur and the deep V neck of the jacket does that well!

I thought Rouge’s heart boots were cute, but since I’m replacing her heart motif with diamonds, I wanted to adjust it to fit the diamond motif. She’s now got diamonds at the toe of her boots as well as the sole. I made them wedge heels because I imagine they’re easier to run in.

Inventory

On her utility belt, she’s got a flip phone: good for quick contact and disposal. She also has a few pouches, probably to hold smoke bombs or something. I also wanted her to keep her treasure scope from SA2, so it’s also got a place on her belt.

Other inventory items include her compact, perfect for touching up her make up or finding pesky lasers (which is a spy trope I think? It’s probably not scientifically sound but whatever it helps her find lasers).

And of course, Rouge’s bat bomb! It functions much the same as Rouge’s bombs have throughout the series (Sonic Battle, Sonic 06, Sonic Forces: Speed Battle), I just adjusted its appearance to reflect this redesign.

I also decided while I was at it to take the guns away from Shadow and give them to Rouge; I don’t see why the ultimate life form needs a fire arm when he can shoot powerful concentrated beams of energy from his hands while the secret agent (who is more likely to be equipped with that kind of weapon) would be without it. She has her pea shooter on her leg holster concealed by her boots (Which is why I tried making her boots a bit bigger than her legs as opposed to being tight fitting).

Hair

Finally, Rouge has got some new hairstyles! For her SA2 look, I wanted to keep the trademark Yuji Uekawa spiky hair he tends to draw on his sonic characters, but I definitely wanted to change her hairstyle; I just personally wasn’t a fan of her current style. I wanted something that looked mature and chic, so I gave her a layered bob. It’s also symmetrical to fit the uniform look she’s wearing.

And Rouge gets another haircut for her post SA2 look! It’s much wavier, and she’s got bangs now. For this style, I was inspired by 1. the Finger Waves hairstyle, 2. those little curlicues that agent Honeydew has from Dexter’s Laboratory, and 3. Marilyn Monroe’s curly hair. I wanted to add some elegance to Rouge’s look and I think the curly hair really brings that aspect of her character out.

If you’ve made it to the end of all of this then like holy crap thank you so much for reading all of this and I love you

[thefreakydeaky]

"Another?" Simon made to pour you a shot of rum.

You covered your glass and shook your head.

Dwight's hand landed heavy on your shoulder.

"Come on, Y/l/n. You gotta be able to hold your liquor if ya wanna run with this crowd." His thin lips were pulled up in an uncharacteristic smile.

You chuckled lightly and held your cup out to Simon.

"I get the feeling, I'm being tested."

Simon only smirked.

"Well y'all sons of bitches are in for a surprise. My blood used to be 90 proof."

Dwight snickered.

You couldn't help but turn your gaze in the direction of the man who's approval you needed the most.

Negan watched on, not the barest hint of a smile on his lips. You sat up straight as you held up your glass.

You gave Negan a nod of respect, "To the good health and prosperity of El rey del sur, Our King of The South."

His dark eyes narrowed at your words.

The men around you remained half frozen, unsure how the enigmatic man would take your speech.

The corner of his mouth twitched. It was the closest you'd ever gotten to a smile from him. He nodded and the celebration resumed.

Your eyes followed the movement of his body as he stretched out his long legs, crossing them at the ankle.

There was only one thing Negan had that you truly envied, the luxury of being his authentic self.

Hazel eyes glared right at you. You looked away.

As the night wore on, the saviors began to trickle out of Negan's sitting room and into the adjacent rooms with some of the wives.

Crude sounds and lusty moans pervaded the air.

And then there were three. You thought sharing an awkward laugh with Dwight.

"Welp," He said standing. "It's getting late. I better turn in."

Your gaze strayed to Negan and found that somehow you were only the width of a sofa cushion away from him.

Your shoulders tensed.

His olive and honey eyes met yours, a dare in their depths.

"I'll walk you." You offered to Dwight and started to stand.

You swayed and would have lost your balance if Negan's hands hadn't suddenly been there to steady you.

"He can walk himself. Can't you, D?" His husky voice interrupted. His hands on your hips eased you back into your seat.

"Uh, Yeah. Thanks, Y/l/n, but I'm good."

You frowned, but didn't protest.

"Night." Dwight said again and left you alone with Negan.

Although he was no longer touching you, you could feel him staring.

You uncrossed and recrossed your arms over your chest.

"You are so tense right now, I bet if I stuck a lump of coal up your ass, I'd have a big fucking diamond by sunrise."

"What're you gettin into the jewelry business?" You huffed.

"Your little comedy act might work on my saviors, but it ain't getting you anywhere with me. So you might as well cut that shit out."

Your mouth opened in surprise.

"Why the fuck do you try so hard? What do you get out of being a fucking clown?"

You pursed your lips.

"I want to be liked."

Negan snorted in derision. "Being liked is of absofuckinglutely no value."

"Well, it was valuable enough to get you to the top." You replied morosely.

"Are you serious? You mean to tell me that after everything you've fucking seen, you think being liked is what got me this gig?"

You couldn't bring yourself to look at him.

"From what I've seen, it's a balance. You are feared, because you aren't afraid to get violent." You fixed your eyes on the empty glasses scattered across the coffee table.

"You are respected because you take the responsibility of protecting the weak. You charm people with your joking and teasing."

Negan scoffed.

"Not everyone can be naturally attractive and charming. Respect, I can earn by doing my share and having their backs when we're out there doing pick ups. Will they fear me? Probably not, but I am smart and I know how to be funny. God willing making people laugh will make me well liked enough to bring me opportunity."

He became quiet.

You groaned internally.

Had you been too honest?

"Opportunity for what?" He gazed at you intently.

"Opportunity for advancement of course." You said evenly.

“Are you fucking flirting with me?”

Your eyes widened.

" You are aren't ya? You're fuckin flirting with me." He grinned.

"I was just being honest with you. How is that flirting?"

Negan smirked.

"Well let me fuckin see here, you called me naturally charming and attractive. Add to that the many times I have caught you eyefucking me."

Your face became hot with embarrassment.

"Unless you're looking to challenge my leadership, the only opportunity you've got is filling the recently vacant position of wife number seven."

You looked over your shoulder at the door and cursed yourself for letting Dwight leave without you.

Negan stretched his arm over the back of the couch and leaned in close.

Your pulse quickened.

"Look at me." He commanded.

You wondered not for the first time, why his husky voice had such an effect on you.

Regardless of what he was saying, the sound of him always made you think of sex. It also made you want to do everything he asked.

You turned toward him, slowly.

Negan cupped the side of your face, stroking your cheekbone lightly.

You gasped at the unexpected gentleness of his touch.

He leaned in. You felt his warm breath on your skin. He smelled like a combination of aftershave, sweat, and the whisky he'd been drinking. Unfortunately for you, you found the scent alluring.

He tipped your face up toward his.

You half wondered if you had passed out on the sofa. Perhaps this was a bizarre alcohol induced wet dream.

He licked his lips.

You swallowed nervously. He seemed like he kissed well. You hadn't been kissed in such a long time. You worried that you had forgotten how-

"You implied it."

"I-what?"

"Your reaction to me invading your personal space is proof that you meant it."

Your gaze slid from his olive and honey eyes to his lips and back again.

"You find me attractive and charming."

You could see by the smug smile already forming on his ruggedly handsome face that he wasn't going to let you live this down.

This could not stand. You made the first counter move you could think of. You slapped him.

Negan's eyes widened in surprise as your palm hit his cheek.

"ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod I'm so sorry!" You covered your mouth with your hands.

A smile that was as dazzling as it was dangerous spread on his face.

Your breathing excelerated at the thought of what he might do to you as punishment.

Your mind flipped through the horrors you had witnessed at his hands, the iron, the smell of burnt hair and burnt flesh, His fists pounding relentlessly into a guys face, the sharp smell of blood, lucille coming down on some poor sonofabitch's skull, making it rain skull fragments, blood, and brains.

"I am going to make you pay." His tone was filled with promise as he yanked you to him by the collar of your jean jacket.

Your hands went to his shoulders with the intent of pushing him away.

Negan was on you in a heartbeat stealing your next breath with a brutal kiss.

He left you no choice but to mold your mouth to his. He slipped his tongue into your mouth and found yours.

You attempted to take control of the embrace.

He nipped at your lower lip in warning. His tongue delved once more tangling with yours in a battle for dominance.

You refused to submit.

His fingers hooked their way into your belt loops. Strong hands pulled you by the waist, propelling you forward, effectively forcing you to straddle the erection straining against his pants.

Your hips ground against his. He sucked at your lower lip and rocked up against the apex of your thighs.

Your breath hitched.

"I knew you were into me."

You turned your head to prevent him from kissing you again and rolled your hips.

He groaned.

"I am not into you."

Negan held onto your hips, threw his head back and laughed.

"Well I'll be damned. You finally said something funny."

He ran his hands over your ass, kneading your ample cheeks.

"I think we should fuck. Are you interested in the full experience or are you gonna settle for just a taste?"

"I wish you would stop saying shit like that. It makes my pussy go dry."

His jaw clenched in annoyance.

"You are a much better listener than I thought you were."

Rather than fly into an angry rant riddled with 'fuckyous' his hand shot out, pressing at your throat.

"Why is it you think you can get away with saying whatever you fucking want?" His fingers applied pressure to the side of your neck.

Your pussy clenched, dampening your panties in anticipation.

"Answer me." He demanded, pressing harder still.

A dulcet moan passed through your lips.

Negan's eyes narrowed.

He brought his other hand up to encircle your neck and squeezed experimentally.

You couldn't help the needy whine you emitted. The tension in your shoulders began to melt away as his thumb stroked along the curve of your neck.

"Ho-o-ly shit, You're really fucked up aren't ya?"

"You have no fucking idea." You purred.