#i tried to get less motion blur but rip
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trick or treat ✨
BITSY i give u him acting like the 5 year old he is >:3
#i tried to get less motion blur but rip#take He#vex friends#orangesabre#took like 16 ss and this one looks the most decent
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borrowing showers past bedtimes
remember the little thing i wrote the other day about v borrowing kerry's shower? yeah i finished it, somewhat, decided it was still relatively short (2k) and too plotless for an ao3 post. so woe, fic be upon ye. (under the cut)
It seemed like it took forever until V’s incessant knocking on Villa Eurodyne’s front door got it to swing open.
Speaking of the door, when the fuck did Kerry even get his front door fixed anyway? They had tried to fix it on a random weekend when V came over, but it kept opening stubbornly no matter what they did. And then Kerry had gotten so mad and tried to rip the door of its hinges, so they dropped the effort altogether. And–
“Oh, shit.” Kerry’s voice brought him back to the present and V blinks to realize Kerry’s looking at him with wide eyes. He pulls down his headphones he had on to his neck. His previous annoyance at being bothered in his house at this hour slipping rapidly into shocked worry at the sight of a merc covered in blood and mud and who knows what else, standing with his arms and feet a shoulder apart.
“Hey Ker, wha‘sup, sorry for bargin’ in so late at night,” V says, words stumbling over the other like a trainwreck, then he gets to the point, “Can I please borrow your shower?”
“Jesus, of course,” Kerry says, and then jerkily opens the door wider like he just remembered he could do that.
“‘m not Jesus, I’m V.” V mumbled out absent-mindedly. He whacks his arm before he gets in, some blood and bits of flesh fell off the sleeves of his jacket, squelching to the floor.
“Do you need a ripper?” Kerry asked. V drags his feet onto the concrete in hopes it’ll lessen the blood stains when he walks in the house.
“Oh, nah, I’m fine. This isn’t mine.” V says, just realizing how this must’ve looked. “I’ve been out the whole day in the rain, went from the badlands then back, got a gig near here.” V walked further into the house, avoiding the items still strewn about the floor. “Got messy. Normal shootout stuff, grenades, the like, then just–” he makes a psh-SHOOO noise with his mouth as he creates an over-exaggerated motion of an explosion with his hands.
“Gonk had a grenade on him and pulled the wrong pin.”
Kerry lets out an amused, morbid chuckle. V thinks that’s nice; he’d probably laugh about it too. If he hadn’t spent the entire day being scorched and sweating under the Badlands sun, hit by dust and dirt. Then got whacked with a storm that came out of nowhere. Then trekked his way up here just to get blasted in the face with someone’s guts. He smelled like garbage and felt so grossed out, but he was still ready to spend the entire ride back to Watson feeling like complete shit… only to find that the earlier shootout had blown off his Yaiba’s fuel tank.
But yeah, he’s fine! He’s totally not gonna lose it if he can’t claw his way out of his clothes within the next 5 minutes. But just in case, he excuses himself to the shower and practically ran in.
–
V's buck-ass naked in Kerry's shower. It's a huge shower, taking up 30% of the entire bathroom and the bathroom itself is bigger than his apartment. And now the large space and the great ventilation is getting him cold. He rubs a foot on top of the other, trying to warm the palms of his feet. He goes to pick up another soap from the rows and rows of product that Kerry had, all lined up.
It took less time to decide on a shampoo to use earlier because there were only two options, and even though he should probably peruse the purple shampoo dedicated to keep hair dye to shine and all that... he had decided to use the one Kerry probably forgot at the back. It had dust on its lid but smelled powdery.
Johnny crackles, all blue pixels and blurs of light, leaning on the glass window next to him. "Occupied, asshole." V says, gesturing to himself. "Also, ever heard of privacy?"
"You lost your privacy rights the second you took longer than 10 minutes to decide on a soap to use. At least start the water. This isn't your megabuilding, Kerry can pay the hot water bills."
Johnny made a good point, but V opted to ignore Johnny for now, as he often does. Instead, he opens another soap bottle and sniffs it experimentally. He could tell this was Kerry's go-to soap. Smelled like mint and perfumed musk. He reads the name of the scent. Gold Desire.
"Oh fucking... his pretentious ass needs a beating." Johnny grumbles. V snorts and closes the bottle. It's a scent reminiscent of Kerry, which V doesn't hate, of course. But the idea of smelling like Kerry didn't sit right with him.
A little too domestic. A little like he's playing pretend as someone's cute little input who's enjoying the high life for years by now. A little too much like wearing a costume. He's already had enough of the idea of turning into someone he's not without a stupid soap doing it for him.
He goes to sniff the next soap and dry-heaves. It smelled overwhelmingly like burning plastic that's vaguely presented with artificial strawberry and vanilla. He coughs and puts it away.
“At this point your clothes are gonna finish being washed before you do.” Johnny complains, glitching away and popping up, squatting on top of the washing machine dramatically.
V picks up another soap, “Oh Johnny, gross, you cummed in this one.”
“I what.”
“Look, ‘Rockerboy’s Wet Dream.’” V says, grinning and showing off a green bottle. Johnny rolls his eyes and pretend-flicked his cigarette’s ash onto the floor.
V continues to read the bottle, “’Citrus and Red Chili.’ Wonder how that smells combined.” V sniffs it, “Spicy!” he announced to Johnny who has now resorted to softly banging his head on the wall behind him. V decided he could just use this one and goes to turn the water on.
He enjoys how it immediately produced the perfect temperature without him even needing to fiddle with the settings or wait. Some fancy tech that detects his temperature and automatically sets the most suitable one for him once his feet hit the shower tiles.
He pours a hefty amount, wincing at how the bottle wheezed and dropped a slimy gel-like substance with beads of scrubs– which hurt when he started to slather it up. Before the contact with skin promptly starts to burn. Granted he has never used a high-end soap with an exfoliator and whatnot, but V doubts it’s supposed to hurt this much.
V picks the bottle up again to inspect it, hoping to see if maybe he’s just using it wrong or something… when he noticed a manufacture date at the top of the cap. He froze in fear. “Holy shit. This was produced before I was even born. Why the hell do Kerry even keep this around.”
He chucks the bottle to the trash bin to the far end of the room. It missed and hit the wall, bouncing onto the floor. V scrubs the rest of the offending soap on him, almost panickedly.
“You can shower with my actual cum, ‘ll hurt less.” Johnny offers mockingly, getting in the stall with him. V elbows him hard, even if he glitches away before it made any believable contact.
“Give it a couple second and you’ll feel the burn too, see if you can joke then.” V grumbles. He takes a long deep breath and spends the next few breaths just watching as the bubbles get washed along with the grime and mud that starts to melt onto the floor along with the hot water. Shoulders slowly slumping as the events of the day start to catch up and some new bruises and cuts make their presence known. He cards his fingers onto his hair and plop goes the pieces of brain matter and what could’ve been an eighth of an eye. He kicks it down the drain, and blindly takes a random bottle.
This one’s still filled to the brim. He opened it to find it still sealed, even. He struggles to open it with his nails and managed to do so... sacrificing some nail paint in the process. He sniffed it almost dejectedly. Before perking up, pleasantly surprised with its unfamiliar but sweet scent.
"Huh.." he says, taking it away to properly read what it was. "Coconut and basil."
"Do you even know what a coconut looks like?" Johnny accused, out of nowhere.
"Sure I do. It's brown, kinda round looking. Floats. Not sure what a basil actually is though." V answers easily, and finally sets the soap next to the shampoo he had picked, and gets to showering in peace.
--
V stepped out of the bathroom feeling like an actual human again for once, shaking his hair onto the towel roughly to dry it.
"Ker?" he calls out. He hears a faint tune being repeatedly played and walks to the far end of the first floor. Kerry sat with his back to V, with his headphones in, frowning at a computer. He had a guitar in one hand while his other hand was covering his mouth, a finger tapping onto his lips.
Kerry glanced over when he noticed V in his peripheral vision and says, "Hey," but his focus quickly turns back to the computer.
V steps next to him to plant a kiss on the top of his head. "Thanks for the shower." (He could feel Johnny rolling his eyes, making pretend-barfing motions. V made a huge point to tell him to fuck off.)
"No problem," Kerry says, obviously still distracted.
"Busy?" V asks, knowing the answer but thinking he should probably still ask it.
Kerry doesn't really answer, just hums vaguely, somewhat affirmatively.
V spreads his toes out on the floor, feels that it’s dusty, still haven’t been properly vacuumed since god knows when. He shifts his weight. "... Anything I can help with?" He offers. It's a long shot but sometimes Kerry asks his opinion on song lyrics, even though V kinda guessed it's less of asking an opinion and more of showing off an unfinished piece he’s still proud of.
As he expected, the shot fell short of its mark when Kerry replies with a clear, resounding, "No." and by then V knows he's maxed out trying to get a conversation out of Kerry.
He goes to leave Kerry alone.
–
V checks his clothes to see it had finished its spin cycle and is now being dried. Still a couple hours to go. He goes back out and climbs to the second floor, trying to find something to wear in the meantime. Kerry’s a little shorter than him, (“Not by much.” Johnny annoyingly pointed out.) Fine, Kerry’s only a little shorter than him, but his clothes mostly consisted of leather or something so cropped, might as well just go nude.
There were some hoodies, though, large unassuming jackets Kerry bought in bulk to hide from media vultures. Big enough it makes his boxers look shorter than it actually is. V decides to borrow one, goes to bite and suck one of the hood’s strings immediately once he slipped it on.
He leans over the second floor to check up on Kerry from above. Kerry tapped the space bar so hard V swears it’ll crack. He starts grumbling unhappily, then goes to fiddle another tune on the guitar. Yikes. Better leave him alone for now.
“Derivative!” Johnny yells about the tune, over the railing.
If Kerry could actually hear him there would be a bloodbath.
V passed Kerry’s bed and goes back down to the first floor, sitting on the sofa. Kerry stops playing the guitar with an uncomfortable screech and whines loudly.
“Tell him try changing it to a minor tune.” Johnny says. V frowns at him, not sure if he’s actually offering genuine musical help or if he’s just fucking around to try and rile Kerry up. Either way, V knows Kerry wouldn’t appreciate any unwarranted advice at this stage. Johnny clicks his tongue, because he knows it too, he just doesn’t like not letting everyone know what he thinks.
V goes to lean back, only to sit up straight again, looking back and noticing there’s a bong stuck behind him. He pulled it out, then sighs at the mess. Before standing up and picking up empty and half-filled glasses to the kitchen to stick them in the dish washer. He continued to throw out two thongs wedged in the sofa. Wipe the counter from the sticky, spilled alcoholic drinks and their mixers.
It took a while until the sofa and the coffee table in front of it looked nice enough, and V sits and slumps himself onto it in satisfaction, letting the sofa’s crevice swallow him as much as it could.
–
"Hey, what're you doing here?" Kerry asks, gently shaking him to wake him up.
V blinks blearily awake, takes a second to realize where he's at. Then at the question. Wanted to wait up for you sounds too cheesy suddenly and V decides to just shrug.
"You cleaned my place up." Kerry says appreciatively.
"Nnno, just the sofa area." V points out, then yawns, putting his hand into a fist and using his knuckles to cover it. Kerry lets out an 'Awww' kind of sound and V stopped yawning immediately, frowning up at him. Kerry stopped cooing, and grinned, "Come on, let's get you to an actual bed, huh?"
He pulls V up and leads him to the second floor onto the bed. V falls into it immediately, rolling so he can plant his face down onto the biggest pillow Kerry had, while Kerry went off to turn off most of the lights on the switch on the wall.
V doesn't need to see to know when Kerry shuffled into bed when the bed dips next to him. He puts a hand out to feel for Kerry and when his fingers found contact on skin, he scoots closer.
"D'aww," Kerry says again cut off harshly when V pokes his ribs, hard. "Hey you don't want me to think you're cute? Stop being cute."
"Thought you said I was a brat?" V coyly asked.
Kerry lets out a huff, "Alright, down, boy. Way past your bedtime for that."
"Sounds like I need some punishi--" V couldn't help a yawn before he could finish that sentence, "Yeah, point taken." He shuffles again, a leg lands on top of Kerry's before settling. “Sorry I bothered you while you were doing your song.” He says to Kerry’s arm.
Kerry lets out a soft laugh again, rubs the point of contact between his fingers and V's upper arm, “Yeah if you were anyone else, I would’ve told you to fuck off. Consider it a privilege that you got me away from my set and I’m still letting you on my bed.”
“Yay, privilege!” V whoops softly. “Always wanted to know what that feels like.”
Kerry snorted again. They went quiet and V thought that was the end of it. Until Kerry adds, “You know you don’t have to…” he stops like he thought better than to say it. V opens his eyes to look up at Kerry, telling him to go on.
Put on the spot, Kerry begrudgingly continues, “I dunno, just… you know I’m here for you, right? So.. I dunno, V, maybe next time, you could just think of coming over in the first place instead of it being an alternative plan? And, ugh, I know how this might sound to– Look, I’m not saying this ‘cus I’m jealous or, or clingy, okay, I know you got your own thing. Look, you don’t have to act all awkward and proper ‘round me, ‘s all. I mean, come on, V, it’s just me.”
“Uh-huh.” V says, though he doesn’t really get what that’s all about. He shuffles and drops his head back to its original position, closing his eyes. He’s falling asleep again, and he fights to hear what Kerry’s saying next, it gets jumbled into one hazy tune. Something about time, and them being friends, sometimes a little more, something about worrying about not hearing something…
He snuggled to Kerry’s arm again, concludes Kerry’s probably just stressed about the piece. So, he sleepily asks, “Didja finish it though? The song.”
“Huh?” Took a few seconds for Kerry to realize what he’s asking, “Oh… Nope. Gave up on it for tonight.”
“Should try changing it to minor key.” V hears himself say without him actually thinking it, then he groans quietly. He kicks the engram mentally, mumbles out, “Oh, shut up, Johnny…”
“Yeah, shut up, Johnny.” Kerry echoes immediately. But there’s a slight moment where V thinks Kerry’s arm had tensed a tiny bit, before relaxing, as he leaned into V’s hair. Then, "You smell nice."
Thanks, it's coconut and basil. V thinks he says, but he's not sure because he conked out within milliseconds. He thinks that for tomorrow, in-between getting home, and doing gigs, and finding leads about the relic, he’ll try to figure out what a basil actually is.
Author's Note: yeah so coconut and basil huh. The coconut that goes around getting bobbed by the sea but floats with the flow. The basil that could mean anything from a token to ward off the devil to a symbol of love. Also smells great together as a body wash. Fun! Maybe Kerry'll think there's poetry in it if V shared it the next day.
#cyberpunk 2077#kerry eurodyne#johnny silverhand#lil guy v#writingcactus#gonna have to go and find my other ficlets to tag with that augh#i drew this tag
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CREATOR TAG GAME
it’s that time of year again :)
pick your 5 favorite gif sets of 2024 that got less than 1k notes and then pick 10 gifsets of someone else's that got less than 1k notes.
mine:
this rhaenicent set only because of the second gif. also somehow i managed to color this dark dark show and make it look light and dreamy?? but yeah the blending in that second gif is my all time fav
i will never forget this yennefer set. it nearly ended my computer but it was so so worth it. all the effects and experimenting...it was just so fun to play with photoshop w this one!
the film scrolling effect in this rhaenicent gif rly pushed my limits but i'm so glad i got to learn something new! and to swap styles w my bestie was SO fun..got to use a new effect and a new font!
my best misunderstood girly miss cressida cowper! first time using shipped goods font and i absolutely ADORE it sm. i also tried using the motion blur effect here and it's so cool! kinda love the blending in the third gif too...the way she moves behind her sleeve teehee
google alicent hightower! another new effect!! i was always so scared to try the google template just bc of the typing effect...but it was so worth it. also love the news panel i came up with LOL
others:
the effects in this ocean's 8 set by @alicenthighstower are just SO SO COOL!!! like i just have no words...all the animations are amazing. i could literally stare at it forever. aish you truly outdid yourself on this one..i love it!!
what if i just started screaming about this rhaenicent set by @nataliescatorccio?!?!? just screaming crying throwing up!! EVERYTHING about this is perfection. all the parallel shots and the way they're both blended together AND combined with the ripped paper effect. it's just gorgeous stunning immaculate. a set that truly encapsulates all of becca's talent!
this alicent hightower set by @padme-amidala is one of my all time favorite sets ever. the way there are so many different gifs combined and yet it doesn't look hectic at all. everything blends and works together so seamlessly. i especially LOVE the cracked glass effect bc it goes so well and matches the lyrics too. AND THE COLOR COMBO is to die for. thank you erika for this masterpiece
i adore this sejanus and katniss set by @maxanor. the blending is so so flawless and smooth. something abt black/white blending always gets me. and then the ink transition to that vibrant coloring?? gorgeous! the orange is SO vibrant and beautiful. and to top it all off...the font choice is chefs kiss perfect!
this kanthony set by @cal-kestis is so pretty!! when i first saw this set my jaw dropped. nik's creativity is mind blowing! the mosaic/crystallized transition is gorgeous and PERFECT for them and the song choice.
brb tattooing this rhaenicent set by @abigaillazaar onto my brain! michelle your blending is always so soft i can't get over it. like that 3rd and 7th gif hello???? and OBSESSED with the lyric change because it just fits so so well. you are paying for my therapy bc pairing august with them is criminal
the immaculate blending in this alicent + her kids set by @lady-arryn has me on my knees. the triple blends are executed so well. i love the perfect balance of darks and light leaks. and i am always amazed by your ability to make the colors so vibrant and yet it always look so soft. simply STUNNING
i can't believe @rosamundpkes made this beautiful rhaenicent set for me!!! i can't get over it. i LOVE the subtle soft pink/orange coloring. and the blending of the second gif has me screaming!!!!! don't even get me started on the transition of the last two shots of them..i can't. forever grateful for this set <3
this morgana pendragon set by @ughmerlin is pure perfection. the sepia coloring is just lovely and i adore the font choices. everything about this is so so well done...i could go on and on
this rhaenicent set by @gwenpendragns belongs in a museum!! the white/grey/black blending is phenomenal and i am in love with the grid effect. and something about the blending of the last gif just tickles my brain in such a satisfying way. the quote for them too is such a good choice!
no pressure tagging the people above and anyone else who wants to do this <3
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ok well it looks like there's a little more than five of you
so uh
i started writing a little bit and yknow when i said laios is literally me?
yeah i think i was born to write him
anyway here's a treat for you all, the very first draft of the first few paragraphs of A Culinary Guide to the Barbaric Archipelago
feedback is much appreciated this will probably look fairly different once i end up actually publishing :)
also keep in mind i've only watched the show so if anything seems inaccurate just tell me (preferably spoiler-free/spoiler-light) ___
Laios had no idea what these monsters were, and the thought only excited him. They had shown up as he and his party were traversing a high-ceilinged region in the fifth floor, and everyone was fumbling to fend them off. They were large, frighteningly fast, and were constantly in motion, enough that they were nothing but a near-indecipherable blur as they screeched through the air.
Marcille had tried exploding them to no avail, the spells hitting nothing but a crumbling wall. Not a single swing of Kensuke had managed to so much as clip them, and fabric shreds floated through the air like autumn leaves as they tore through the party’s items with their talons. Chilchuck was screaming as he ducked and weaved, dodging the masses with some success. Meanwhile, Senshi busied himself trying to recover all of his fallen ingredients after one of the creature’s claws had torn off his pot and ripped open his supply bag, scattering its contents among the bricks. He didn’t even flinch when one sent sparks flying from his helmet. The only things that Laios could make out through the streaks were shimmering scales and sharp talons—either a reptilian or bird-type monster. Well, he’d read once that birds technically were reptiles anyway, but that was certainly besides the point, plus, monsters of either type generally still had their differences...though now that he thought about it, they often were encountered together—Basilisks, Cockatrices, and Coatuls were all combinations of snakes and birds, and white dragons had bird wings—wait, maybe that was why Falin had feathers! He’d thought it greedy at first, to have so many cool features together, but when he really considered it, regular birds had always had scales, on their legs at least! So then, maybe the feathers were just a natural part of it after all! Maybe...
“Maybe dragons aren’t just reptilian monsters, but a special type of bird monster!” Laios didn’t even realize he’d said anything aloud until Chilchuck turned his ire to him.
“What? How does that even matter!? Get a grip, Laios! We need to get the hell out of here!” the half-foot yelled. He grabbed onto Laios’s arm, but before he could try to tug the larger man away, he ducked to avoid an incoming blur. Marcille was having similar issues.
“Forget the food, we need to go!” She shrieked, trying to dissuade Senshi from the Sisyphean task that was collecting his things. Every time he made any sort of progress, a passing monster would swoop in to take a swipe at him, the passing wind sending everything flying once more.
__
first person to guess which httyd dragon is harassing them gets a doodle of your choice from me :)
ALSO, i am debating when in the books i want to set it. on one hand, setting it after the events of all the books could create some interesting dynamics with the main httyd gang and the touden party, though on the other hand that'd make it a lot less accessible for non-httyd readers and also just a massive spoiler fest. so i think setting it sometime before book 8 would also be fun and be able to accomplish what i want it to. and maybe even setting it before/during book 1 could be cool so i could play off of the interactions with the green death, though of course that would also be sacrificing the other httyd characters's development.
either way i think the main plot is that the touden party eats their way across the barbaric archipelago and hiccup horrendous haddock the third the hope and heir to the tribe of hairy hooligans just wants to find out why all the wild dragons are getting so agressive
also ziggerastica is just having a fit
#A Culinary Guide to the Barbaric Archipelago#httyd#httyd books#how to train your dragon#how to train your dragon books#httyd crossover#delicious in dungeon#dungeon meshi#crossover fanfiction#funky fiction
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Employee of the Month
Not sure what this is or what the point of it is. Just take the whump. No editing because no
Cw: torture, murder, graphic depictions of death/killing, interrogation, restraints, a lot of violence, mentioned non-con nudity (non-sexual), implied mass murder/killing, reluctant Whumper
Henchman reeled back as a fist slammed into the side of their jaw, snapping their head to the side and causing them to sway in their restraints.
By now, they had lost any hope of standing, left to hang by the thick metal shackles around their wrists that held their arms up, the cuffs biting into their skin hard enough to leave ugly bruised indents that wept droplets of crimson down their forearms.
They could barely keep their legs beneath them, much less try to bare weight on them. From the awkwardness of the height they were restrained at, they would only be able to stand really if they stood on the tips of their toes, which left them scuffling around, the muscles up their calves cramping as they tried to keep from rocking back and forth.
Blood dripped from a wound on their temple, leaking into their sight and tinting their vision with a stinging red that they quickly tried to blink away. Tears clung thick to their eyelashes and their cheeks, mingling with the blood smeared across their face from their broken nose and turning it to a watery pink that ran down to their neck and chest.
Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult as they let their head fall forwards, hoping that the motion would deter some of the blood from trickling down the back of their throat and suffocating them. Their lips were parted, each breath coming in as a wheeze. It felt like their lungs were full of something, thicker than water and warmer than it should feel. Each inhale was work, the breath scraping against their windpipe all the way to their lungs.
Breathing out was a bit easier, with each exhale a bit of red tinted saliva dribbled from their lips, the bottom which was split so badly by the right corner that they couldn’t close their mouth fully. It had been ripped open by their own teeth, a result of one of the first punches thrown against them, whatever plating beneath the Hero’s gloves turning what would be a bruise into a mauling of blood and fractured bones.
“Tell me,” Hero growled out, grabbing Henchman’s jaw with the same hand that had just struck them, wrenching their head towards them. Henchman could feel their heavy breath against their face, they hadn’t been pulling any punches. Somewhere distant in Henchman’s mind, they envied how Hero could draw in so much air with such ease, so little effort, while they were left to gasp and try to get the oxygen they so desperately needed around what felt like their collapsing windpipe.
Henchman had broken ribs before—it was almost guaranteed in their field, after all. It sucked, which was an understatement. It was miserable, but bearable.
This, this was beginning to border on unbearable. The pain was worse than anything they had ever felt, sharp piercings of pain drilling through their chest and spreading out through their torso. The pressure was awful, building and building against their lungs until everything lapsed into a blur of pain.
“Tell me what villain is planning.” Hero repeated, their voice sharper as their nails dug into Henchman’s face, scraping the skin when they ripped their hand away in frustration when they received no answer, letting Henchman’s head fall again before quickly slamming a knee into their gut.
“I don’t care how long it takes, this will go on until you fucking talk.”
And it went. On and on, but Henchman had already lost all track of time—consciousness was only a muddled depth of agony and exhaustion. It was a miracle, or a curse, that they hadn’t passed out, but through the haze Henchman was able to piece together enough thought to maybe come up with some sort of explanation. They hadn’t really noticed it, lost between the burn of the stun gun Hero had used and the sting of the fresh lashes across their back, but at some point they were sure they had been drugged. A small prick along the side of their neck, followed by a rush of awareness that hadn’t lasted long.
It was hours. Felt like days. There wasn’t a patch of skin anywhere on their body that wasn’t marred by some bruise or cut. At some point, Hero had tapped out, but they had been quickly replaced by some lower grade Agency member.
That was some sort of relief. While Hero’s aggression had been fueled by genuine hatred towards Villain and anyone associated with them such as Henchman was, Associate had no connection with them. Really, they seemed almost reluctant to take part. There was no emotion behind their actions, and every so often they would even pause for a moment to take a break, but some part of Henchman wished to think they were doing it to allow Henchman a moment to rest.
At one point, even, someone had lifted their head up, though Henchman wasn’t sure who. Their eyes had been so swollen with bruises, vision impaired with tears and blood, they couldn’t see much of anything. The touch hadn’t been rough, dare they say gentle even, carefully parting their lips to trickle a bit of water from a bottle down their throat.
“…Hero, we need to stop, they can’t-”
“I don’t care. You are not stopping until they talk.”
“But- Hero, I don’t think they’d be able to speak now anymore-”
“Keep. Going. That is an order, Associate.”
And so it kept. A bucket of cold water dumped over their body, exposed as all their clothes had been cut to shreds on the floor, showing where there was still space to inflict more pain. They weren’t cold for long, as Associate began to hold a lighter to the existing gashes.
…
“Hero, I don’t know what to do anymore. They’re not going to talk. They can’t. You need to cut them down, let them rest a bit-”
“You are in no position to be telling me what to do,” Hero snapped. “Get the hell back in there before you tor their fucking pl-”
The door flew inwards with a sharp kick, bouncing off the wall of the little conference room outside the interrogation chamber. A loud bang split the air, quickly followed by another, and both Hero and Associate were dead before their bodies fell, brain matter splattering across the one-way glass behind them that viewed in on the interrogation chamber.
Villain stepped forwards, a flicker of rage cutting across their indifferent composure as they saw past the gore.
They had a limited number of bullets, but to hell with that, they pulled back the hammer and shot at Hero again, the bullet splitting open their skull and ripping their jaw from them as it passed through the crown of their head.
And damn, if Villain didn’t have Henchman as a priority, they would have shot the bastard again. They would have used all their damn bullets, and then they’d rip Hero’s gun from its holster and shoot until they weren’t even recognizable as human.
They did not deserve the mercy of a quick death that Villain had given them, but it was too late to change that. Villain would come back, they settled, after Henchman was home and healing, and kill every damned person who had ever touched Henchman.
Villain shoved their gun into its holster, quickly stepping over the carnage to the door.
The closer they got to Henchman, the hotter their blood boiled.
They’d kill everyone in the whole fucking agency.
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I still only want to hurt Noah. Like seriously, that’s the only thing I want to write rn. Ugh
#whump#whumpblr#whump community#whump writing#its me coal#coal wrote something#whumpee#whumper#whump prompt#whump prompts#villain caretaker#villain whumpee#villain whump#hero whumper#henchman whumpee#henchman whump#creepy whumper#captured whumpee#captivity whump#writing prompt#intimate whumper#whump drabble#kidnapped whumpee#abused whumpee#heroes and villains#villains and heroes#hero x villain#villain x hero#villain x henchman#whump scene
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The Experiments
Warnings: mention and threat of torture, shock collar, restraints, magic
Shadow, my favorite OC of my in-progress fantasy trilogy, is one of a near-extinct species of creature that look like humans, but with wings and fangs... and magic. She has ice powers, and she is in Jackal captivity, an organization that wishes to find a way to weaponize her gifts and power. Let the experimentation begin!
Shadow quietly fumed while she was led by guards into a bulletproof room full of targets and metal cutouts of people. She wore metal cuffs on her wrists with rows of inward-facing spikes that prevented her from using her ice powers. If she did, the metal would contract with the cold, sinking its sharp teeth into her hands. Her powers were useless with them on, and that was exactly the point: to have her like a cat with its claws removed. Less dangerous. And even if she did somehow find a way out of the cuffs, she still had the shock collar to worry about.
She reluctantly let her guards shepherd her into the room, watching as they backed out and shut the door, leaving her alone.
"Hello again, my favorite subject," Sebastian's venomous voice purred from a speaker mounted in the corner.
Shadow glanced to the side where he and a few other Jackals were sitting in an observing room, safe behind several layers of bulletproof glass.
"Pfff, cowards," she grumbled under her breath. "Wouldn't stand a chance in the same room with me without these cursed restraints." She cast them all a cold glare that could wilt the petals off of roses. "And what would you have me do today, oh smart mouth?" She sniped.
Sebastian chuckled, and she watched him hold up a black remote where she could clearly see it through the thick glass. Her hands instinctively tried to twitch up and grab the shock collar encircling her neck out of habit, knowing how painful it would be, but she forced herself not to flinch, refusing to give him the satisfaction as he pressed a button... and no shock came.
Instead, the spikes on her wrists cuffs retracted, followed by the cuffs themselves unlocking and falling to the floor with a clunk. Surprising. Shadow couldn't help rubbing the chaffed, raw skin where they'd rested with a wince.
"Here's your task," Sebastian's voice crackled in the speaker, "you are to stand on the strip of black tape you see on the floor, and strike every target in the room. If you refuse, you get zapped. You know the drill."
Shadow scowled viciously, but grudgingly shuffled over to where the tape was. She hated giving in, her mind screamed at her to keep resisting, to fight back more... but she'd figured out a long time ago that all it did was make things worse for her in the end. She needed time to save her strength for an escape attempt, not waste it on petty shows of defiance. So she swallowed her snarky remarks and took up a defensive stance, shaking out her hands and narrowing her eyes. This day she was extra mad.
With a low growl, she flung a hand out at the nearest metal target with a fierce, focused intensity, packing all her anger and pain behind it. The frustration of being kept in captivity for so long. The resulting icy blast was so powerful it ripped the target clean off its stand, sending it smashing into the wall behind with such force it left a noticeable dent before it shattered like glass as it hit the floor, covered in ice. The cold made it brittle and weak.
Then she lashed out at all the other targets in rapid-fire sequence, her hands a blur of motion, striking every last one with deadly accuracy until they were all reduced to pieces of shattered metal on the floor. She breathed hard, feeling the overwhelming wave of nausea and exhaustion catch up to her that always came from using too much magic at once, but she took pride in the terrified looks of those observing her behind the safety glass window.
That's what kind of true power I possess, she thought angrily. The kind that you'll never be able to control.
There was a long moment of stunned silence, and Shadow wondered what the Jackals' reaction would be.
"All right, that's enough for today. Put the cuffs back on." Sebastian's obnoxious, polished voice finally sounded through the speaker, wobbling slightly. Shadow hesitated, staring down at the spike-lined cuffs still laying on the floor.
"Don't make this more difficult for yourself. Put. Them on. Now."
She felt the metal shock band on her neck start to buzz in warning, and wasn't in the mood to deal with the consequences of being rebellious. Now was not the right time for it. She leaned down and picked up the cuffs, locking them back onto her own wrists with an irritated eye roll, grimacing as they settled uncomfortably against her skin. As soon as they were in place, three guards came streaming in, approaching her cautiously and guiding her out of the room and back to her cell, giving her a wide berth the entire way, which she relished.
They're afraid of me. And they should be, she thought triumphantly. Word must have gotten out about the guard she had attacked, as well as the many others that had narrowly escaped her vengeful wrath. They all knew better by now than to tease or taunt her, even indirectly when talking to other soldiers within earshot.
Masterlist
Masterlist #2
@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump @otterfrost @sausages-things
#whump inspiration#whump list#whump writing#whump fic#whump prompt#whumpee#whumper#whumper and whumpee#writing prompt#writing#whump#captive whumpee#cruel whumper#restrained whumpee#trapped whumpee#whumpblr#whump community#whumpee x whumper#shock collar#tw violence#tw torture
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Hey! I came from youtube (the Hey Ya duck dance vid) and first of all, I LOVE your style, it's so adorable and smooth! I'm not super aware of rainworld lore, but your stuff makes me want to get into it! If you don't mind me asking, what program do you use to draw/animate?
Heya from the other side! I'd say if you want to avoid RW spoilers make sure to blacklist the rw spoilers/dp spoilers tags from me, but that's like 90% of my stuff on here lol
I use Toonboom Advanced (unfortunately) (it's way too expensive) (and swatches have their uses but I really miss my color wheel)
Like look at what I have to deal with.
I want to try TVPaint instead (they have permanent licenses!!! I hate subscriptions), but I can't afford to invest in that right now. I've tried Photoshop, Krita and CSP too. Photoshop is okay but definitely far more finicky - I'll have to give it a shot again sometime. Krita, same hat, but I have less experience with it than Photoshop. CSP animation is way different from everything else I've tried and I couldn't get into it. I also used to use Flash, but mostly for interactive comics rather than animation. (They're all dead now outside of .swf files, RIP Flash.) I prefer bitmaps/pixels over vectors but man, vectors are useful sometimes...
For non-animations I use Paint Tool Sai 2. It's got its limitations, but it feels the most natural to me. When I need fancier text or actual art brushes for background stuff, I switch to CSP, or Photoshop for filters/special effects. (I don't think I've used those two for anything I've posted so far except for Pebbles' motion-blurred "YOU ROTTEN SISTER YOUR BUTT IS CRUSHING ME" though)
Anyways, thanks so much! I should get back to animating now that you mention it... progress has been slow on the SRS and Spearmaster vid. I've been distracted by a lot of stuff lately.
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I love your writing and I never get to have any lambo twin stuff, so maybe lambo twins with a former con now neutral seeker?
*Simp
//uuuh TW i guess cause bullying and also the lambos are extreme bastards and i try not to hold back//
Optimus says you're not truly bad, a thought that has the Lambos scoffing and snickering derisively. As if any Con can be redeemed. They let you know right off the bat they're waiting for you to slip up. You try to hold firm at their words, wings held high and steady despite the way your face turns into a wince. They assure you that they'll rip your wings into itty bitty pieces while they're still attached once you prove to Optimus you can't be trusted. After that little clash in the rec room, you try your best to steer clear of the volatile brutes.
Others come to accept you more readily: Skyfire, for one, is happy to have another seeker among the Autobots. Even if he does watch you warily for the first few days. Bumblebee also tries to be accepting, and invites you to sit with him on his energon breaks, something that makes Cliffjumper nearly vibrate with fury. You see Perceptor most often, though, as you bustle about the lab. He's cautious but gentle, and always spares you an encouraging word toward your scientific endeavors. If it helps the Autobot cause, then he has no reason to bat an optic.
That doesn't help others warm up to you, though, and especially not the twins. And despite being accepted among them, you don't like the Autobots. They are too soft, not willing to do what needs to be done. You tell Optimus as much after the Decepticons raid a power plant. If they were more ruthless, more willing to throw aside the idea of diplomacy, maybe Megatron wouldn't hold such power. Sunstreaker begrudgingly agrees, miffed that he was stopped from pulling an inexperience new seeker's helm clean off their shoulders.
They still don't like you despite this, but at least when you make a fuss about the Autobots being too soft it allows them an 'in' to voice their own complaints. It's a team-up tactic that Prowl cannot stand, shooting glares your way when he sees you about to open your mouth during after-mission meetings.
It's sometime after that when chasing and pinching your wings becomes their favorite way to mess with you. It's still done with much scorn, their digits too rough on the thinner metal of your ailerons, but it's better than the way they shove mechs like Cliffjumper into the wall when they're feeling rowdy. It doesn't stop you from making a fuss to Optimus about the dents they leave. You thought it was bad when Skywarp would warp behind you and smack your wings into a painful and jerking downward motion.
Most of all they enjoy leaning into your personal space and threatening you. It starts with idle taunts about you being a dirty Con through and through, and then moves on to more colorful mockery. Making up jokes about you being Optimus' new 'pet', your frame being a momentary novelty to the Autobots, how you'll end up crawling back to Megatron if they don't get the chance to kill you first. You try to take it with a brave face, browplates pinched and frame held steady despite wanting badly to lean away from Sideswipe's leering face.
Somehow along the way it changes. The days are a blur of one threat to the next before the Lambos tower over you for... any reason really. They could simply be trying to get their destructive servos on your latest scientific project, but they'll always do it hovering over you. It hardly fazes you, so used to the way they lean into your space with their faces inches from your helm, until Skyfire makes mention of it as he tries to safely steer the toughliners out of the lab. Even their servos upon your wings aren't as rough anymore, leaving less dents. Dents they still leave, of course, but Sideswipe will walk up and pinch an aileron simply to make you notice that he is in the room.
That doesn't mean you don't still snap at them for fiddling with your delicate components, flicking your wings pointedly away from Sunstreaker's questing digits. He simply gives you that full-of-himself smirk before laying his servo on you with more purpose. They can't keep their hands to themselves, and you are, unfortunately, starting to forget to remind them that they should at least respect personal space boundaries.
It's just your luck a couple of hotheaded punks like the Lambo twins would become interested in you. Every mech is well aware how speedster frames love a good chase.
#txt#asks#reader insert#reader imagine#transformers#transformers g1#transformers generation 1#tf g1#sunstreaker#sideswipe#g1 sunstreaker#g1 sideswipe#tf sunstreaker#tf sideswipe
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omg! its you the author of tales from alderwood! i didn’t know you had a tumblr, i just wanted to say that finding your story on comicfury is the luckiest thing that ever happened to me on that site. it’s SOOOOO good, HOW did you learn to draw such powerful action lines and sfx? plus the comic is insanely funny. i’m surprised you’re not on hiveworks or something! wow the quality!
Aaaaa thank you Anon, that means the world to me!!
Action lines are a tricky thing, but it basically just boils down to knowing the path your subject is taking through space, and adding lines that reflect that path. You can even replace your subject's outlines with (short, clustered) action lines to replicate motion blur too!
For this scene, I ended up using an ellipse ruler (I use Lazy Nezumi) a lot to get those arcs looking pretty-- if they don't appear to be going parallel to each other then it tends to look sloppy. Since pretty much every motion in this sequence is SUPER INTENSE, I tried to reflect that in the quantity and length of action lines I used lol. An action that's fast enough for action lines but not really intense enough to justify heavy use will have less of them.
As to where I learned how to do this (and the sound effects too), it was mostly from studying shonen manga lol. Teppu and Hajime no Ippo were the ones I studied the most for Trish's fights since she's so heavily focused in hand-to-hand stuff, but I also take a lot of inspiration from Fullmetal Alchemist, too.
uhhh this is getting long so I'll address the rest real quick:
>comic is funny That's actually Bob's work! He's my partner and writer, and he's responsible for like 95% of the jokes, dialogue, and choreography of the comic. We both collaborate for the overall plot and story, but I rely on him to actually make it good lol.
>Hiveworks this is actually a goal of mine; I'm a big fan of Hiveworks lol. We wanted to apply but their submissions have been closed since 2020 RIP
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Heart Skips a Beat - Part 2
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Summary: Natasha faces her worst nightmare when a rescue mission goes wrong…
Warnings: Violence, blood
Word Count: 1837
Part 1
Tags: @blkmxrvel @blackxwidowsxwife @marvelwomen-simp
When Natasha sees your eyes close, she finally comes back to her senses. She squirms away from Steve, crawling under an ambulance and making her way towards you. She ignores Steve telling her to stay put and doesn’t hear Clint telling police officers the direction the bullets came from. All she can think about is bringing you to safety.
The ambulance engine is still running, causing its underside to reach temperatures that make Natasha feel like she is hiding in a furnace. She holds her breath from the fumes as she crawls to the front of the vehicle, throwing her arm out and reaching for your hand.
“Y/N!” she screams. “I’m right here! Hold on!” Her fingertips brush yours and she grabs onto your wrist tightly. You’re bigger and heavier than her, but the adrenaline gives her strength. With a massive heave, she drags you under the ambulance. You smear through the puddle of your own blood and it soaks through the back of your shirt.
There isn’t even enough room for her to lift her head, but she grabs onto both your arms, digging her elbows into the ground and crawling backwards. “I got you, Y/N. I got you,” she pants. But the lack of space and your deadweight make it impossible for her to pull you all the way through, so she backs out from under the ambulance. “Steve, help me!” she shouts.
“Move!” Steve says to her, although his shoulders are too broad to fit in the narrow gap. However, his arms are long enough to reach both of your hands, and all it takes is one big tug for you to come sliding out from the ambulance.
Your eyes fly open suddenly, awakened by the agonizing pain coursing through your shoulder like a lightning bolt. You scream, and as much as it makes Natasha’s heart hurt, she’s glad to see that you’re still alive.
“You guys need to get out of here right now!” Clint yells. “Take the ambulance!”
Steve pulls you into a standing position and wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you onto his shoulders effortlessly. You flop over him like a ragdoll, pain pulsing in your stomach when you bump against his chest.
BOOM.
A bullet shatters the sideview mirror of the ambulance.
“Go, go!” Natasha urges, putting herself between the danger and you and Steve. Steve runs with you to the back of the ambulance and flings the door open. There is no gurney, so Natasha helps him lay you on the floor and climbs in after you.
“Stay with Y/N. I’ll drive,” Steve offers, going around to the front. “Clint, we’re taking Y/N to the Quinjet! Hold the scene down!”
“Copy that!” Clint is just as concerned for your safety, but he knows you’re in good hands. Steve jumps into the driver’s seat and throws the ambulance in reverse.
BOOM.
The windshield explodes.
“Let’s go!” Natasha screams, ducking her head.
“Hold on!” Steve backs into a sharp U-turn. The tires screech as they find traction on the road to accelerate forward.
Natasha practically lays on top of you to prevent you from rolling around. From a shelf, she grabs a handful of gauze packets, tearing them open with her teeth. She rips your shirt open and presses the gauze first to your shoulder, then another to the side of your stomach. You’re completely soaked in blood and it continues to pump out of you with each heartbeat. Your face has faded to a sickly pale.
“N-Nat,” you whisper, trying to move but pinned down by the pain. “N-Nat—”
“Shh, it’s okay,” she comforts. “Just keep your eyes open for me, okay?”
You see the blood smeared on her face, her neck, and her hands, too delirious to remember that it’s yours. “A-Are you h-hurt?” you stammer.
Natasha wants to laugh and cry at the same time. You’re so in love with her that even in the face of death you don’t even think about yourself. “No, I’m fine,” she says, grabbing onto your hand and interlocking your fingers. She looks over at Steve, veering through parked cars and roadblocks. “Can we hurry it up a little?” she asks in panic, even though she knows he’s driving as fast as he can.
“I’m trying!” Steve swerves around a fire hydrant and the sudden movement jolts everyone in the ambulance. Natasha presses down on you too hard and you grunt in pain.
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “We’re almost there. We’re almost there.”
Your vision fades into fuzzy shapes and blurred colors. Even breathing seems to be too much of a task for you. Steve parks behind the Quinjet and comes around to help carry you in.
“Do you need me to go with you?” Steve asks as he lays you across the back seats of the Quinjet.
“No.” Natasha shakes her head. “Stay and help Barton.”
Steve doesn’t even try to argue. “We’ll find who did this, Nat. I promise.” He goes to the controls at the front and presses a few buttons. “The coordinates for the Tower are set. You’ll autopilot all the way there. Just make sure to update the medical team on Y/N’s condition.”
“Thanks, Steve.”
“Everything will be okay.” He places his hand on Natasha’s shoulder for a moment before jogging back to the ambulance. As soon as he’s off the Quinjet, the door raises shut and the engines blast on. You’re several states away from New York, but at the speeds the plane can travel, you should be there in minutes. You just have to hang on until then.
Natasha leaves your side only to grab more gauze, pressing it against your bullet wounds to slow the bleeding. She rolls you to your side so there’s no pressure on your front or back, but grimaces when she sees that your back looks as bad as your front.
“N-Nat,” you try whispering again, but she is quick to shush you.
“Not now, okay? Just stay awake for me, Y/N.”
You’ve never felt so weak before. It feels like you were hit by a bus and ground up by its tires. Your mind processes in slow-motion—probably a side effect of the blood loss—and you already forgot how you got into the Quinjet. But the physical pain isn’t your greatest concern anymore. You just don’t want to lose your fight and leave her.
Natasha fits an oxygen mask around your face and the cool air is comforting, but you know your time is ticking away. You don’t notice the Quinjet hiss to a landing or acknowledge the team of doctors suddenly hovering over you.
“We’ll do the surgery in room six!”
“Prep a blood transfusion!”
“Two gunshot wounds from a large-caliber gun!”
The doctors move you to a gurney and wheel you off the Quinjet. Natasha holds onto your hand as they take you to the surgery room, but a doctor stops her from entering with you.
“No, Romanoff. You gotta stay out here. We’ll take it from here.”
Natasha doesn’t fight back, letting your fingers slip through hers as you disappear behind the doors.
***********************************************************************
“Any updates?” Clint and Steve finally arrive a few hours later, but you’re still in surgery.
“Not yet.” Natasha paces the kitchen anxiously. Although she found the time to wash your blood off her hands and face, she hasn’t changed out of her uniform yet.
“Nat, you should get cleaned up. Y/N isn’t going anywhere,” Clint says.
“I know, I just…I want to be there when—” She can’t finish her sentence, falling into Clint’s arms and crying into his shoulder.
“Y/N is a fighter, remember?” Clint says, rubbing her back.
“But the amount of blood—”
“Super soldiers don’t go down easy,” Steve reminds her. “Y/N will pull through. And besides, you’ll be there to help with the recovery.”
Natasha nods, pulling away from Clint and wiping her face. “I’m sorry I froze when I saw Y/N get shot—”
“What are you apologizing for?” Clint asks.
“I don’t know—I put you all in danger because I couldn’t get myself out of the way—” she hiccups.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Steve assures. “In fact, you were the one who dragged Y/N to safety, remember? I couldn’t fit under the ambulance and Clint was just sitting around like a duck—”
“Excuse you,” Clint interrupts, and Natasha smiles thinly.
“So, did you find who did this?” she asks.
“Uh—” Clint and Steve look at each other awkwardly. “Natasha, we—”
“Did you find them?” Natasha repeats with more force. Clint motions for Steve to explain.
“That’s the thing,” Steve says. “We don’t know who did this. We scoped out the whole area with the police. We went out more than a mile, but we couldn’t find anything. No shell casings, nothing.”
“Oh, so you’re telling me a ghost shot and tried to kill Y/N?” Natasha scoffs.
“No, we…” Steve tries to find the right words. “We think it was a setup, maybe like a hired assassin or something.”
“Who would want to kill Y/N?” Natasha asks.
“That’s what we need to figure out.”
Natasha knows you have a lot of baggage from your past, particularly when you were forced into illegal covert operations by the government. But it’s been a long time since then. You became your own person and changed your life for the better. Unfortunately, not everyone sees the side of you that Natasha and the Avengers do.
When Clint and Steve leave to shower and change, Natasha finally does the same. She dresses in clean clothes and curls up on your shared bed, inhaling your scent through the pillow and blankets.
Sometime later, Clint visits and knocks on the door. “Hey, Nat? Y/N just got out of surgery—” He doesn’t even get a chance to finish his sentence and is almost run over by Natasha as she hurries over to the medical bay. She doesn’t know which specific room they’re keeping you in, but it’s like she’s drawn to your very presence and finds the correct one instantly.
You lie upright in the bed, propped forward with pillows so there’s less pressure on your back. Your right arm is in a sling and your entire torso is wrapped in bandages. An IV drip leads into the veins on your hand, while a blood pouch sends blood into the vein inside of your elbow. You have an oxygen tube up your nose and looped around your ears.
“I heard the doctor went a little overboard on the anesthesia,” Clint says from behind Natasha, startling her. “You know, with the super soldier serum and everything. Y/N will probably be out of it for a while.” Natasha walks to your side and kneels, gently taking your hand. Your skin is clammy and colder than normal, but your pulse beats strongly.
“I’ll be here as long as it takes.” Natasha raises your hand, mindful of the wires around your wrist, and kisses your fingers.
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Click here for Part 3!
AN: Thanks for the amazing support from everyone! Definitely didn’t think I’d get that kind of response, but I’m extremely grateful for you all. The next part will reveal the identity of the shooter, so I hope you’ll stick around for that. :) Peace out!
#natasha romanoff x reader#black widow fanfiction#natasha romanoff fanfic#natasha romanoff#black widow#marvel
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“Pain,” Levi x Reader
Summary: a love story that ends tragically
Soft boyfriend Levi🤧🥺
Warnings: angssssst, like PAIN pain.
.
.
.
One mistake.
One mistake was all it took.
You didn’t think the plan through enough, you didn’t slice the blade hard enough, you didn’t do anything good enough.
Levi had woken up to soft kisses being planted on his face, him wanting to sleep in weighed heavily on his body while you grew too impatient for him to wake up on his own. Your fingertips danced around his bare chest, your chin resting on the palm of your hand as you admired him.
“C’mon, it’s already ten in the morning, that’s a little too long for Levi.” You teased, running your hand up his chest and grabbed a hold on his chin before you planted another kiss on his lips then another then another until he grabbed the back of your head and kept you in place as his lips danced with yours.
You pulled back, breathless, and he smirked up at you before he had rolled over on top of you. He had you trapped on the mattress and you instantly gulped, looking up at his sleepy eyes while his hair hung down over your face, his bare chest inches away from yours and your cheeks grew hot.
Levi had chuckled at your nervous state, laying his body on yours and rested his head on top of your chest, cuddling into you like a baby and you slipped your arms around him, rubbing your hand up and down the skin on his back, earning a low hum from him in response.
“The mission is tonight... right?” You brought up, making him groan before answering in a low tone.
“No need to remind me but yes.” Levi wanted to enjoy this moment with you, they were rare to have them and he didn’t want to ruin it in anyway, neither did you.
Another mission had to be done tonight and you really didn’t want to go but it obviously had to be done, it was too important to pass up and that made your nerves increase as you tried to cuddle your boyfriend closer to you.
Your arms gripped onto him tighter, your fingers tangling up in his messy hair and your legs hooking around his hips, making Levi move his head to look up at the side of your face, nudging his nose against your cheek.
“What’s the matter?” He said barely above a whisper, one of his hands on your waist and he gave it a reassuring squeeze.
“I just have a bad feeling about tonight. A hunch.” You felt stupid once you said it out loud, a hunch wasn’t a reliable source to go off of but you couldn’t help the overwhelming anxiety clouding your head.
“A hunch? Why’s that?”
“I just do, Lev.” You shook your head, trying to brush it off and wanting to long forget about it.
Levi fully moved his head to look down at your fear filled eyes, tilting his head and he reached up to brush your hair back, not knowing what to say but he tried his best to comfort you gently.
He planted a gentle kiss to your forehead, letting it linger there for a few seconds and pulled back to meet your gaze again, grabbing a hold on your chin with his hand.
“You’re overthinking it, Y/N. Everything will be alright and we’ll be back tomorrow morning and we’ll celebrate.” He smirked, running his tongue over his lips before placing one last kiss to your mouth before slipping out of bed.
You had whined at the loss contact when he got up, watching his bare back before he slipped on his white button up, his muscles flexing slightly as he pushed it on his shoulders and turned towards you while buttoning it up.
“Get your ass up, come on.”
-
Hours had went by faster than what you would like, you and Levi had stayed in your bedroom for most of the day until it grew closer to the time where the scouts had to leave.
You had shoved on your uniform, putting your hair up in a messy bun and zipped up your boots before you walked down the hallway to the room where all the scouts stood in, ready to be given orders by the Commander himself.
“We all know what the plan is, do what is needed to be done so we can hurry home.” Erwin simply said, not wanting to waste any time to start the expedition.
You had gathered up your horse, sighing under your breath as the anxiety in the pit of your stomach grew. Your anxiety has never been this bad but there was just something about today that made you want to puke.
Levi noticed when he saw your hands shaking while grabbing onto the rope, he stood behind you and grabbed a hold on your hand.
“Hey, if you’re not feeling okay then stay here.” He whispered from behind you and you shook your head repeatedly, turning your head just a bit to glance at him.
“No, I’m fine. Ive trained for this.” You assured him you were fine and he helped you jump on your horse, placing his hand on your thigh and gave it a squeeze.
“I love you.” He said loud enough for only you to hear, giving you a small smile and turned to get on his own horse.
All scouts had rode off in the distance, your coat secured around your body and your hood up over your head. You rode behind Levi with the cadets, the closer you all had gotten to the place, the more your stomach had cramped up, twisting and turning.
You had went in your position when you arrived, standing on top of the wall and held onto one of the blades, your eyes looked up at the night sky as the moon shined bright enough above, making the nightly Titans awake and dangerous.
“A Titan on the left!” You heard a cadet scream, shooting up a flare to make everyone aware and you had glanced over at the Titan who was running over.
Shortly behind him, there comes a big crowd of Titans and you gasped under your breath, hearing another couple flares being shot off in the distance.
This wasnt apart of the plan.
You used your gear, jumping off the giant wall and shot your hook to dig into the cement as you swung up in the air, flying across the sky towards the Titans and spun out both blades as you managed to easily take down the first one.
Another Titan was quick to reach for you and even wrapped his hand around your small frame, close to crushing you until you use the blades to slice up his hand and cut off his fingers.
It had been almost an hour and more Titans continued to come and you were starting to become tired and drained, same with the other cadets.
Levi had tried to keep his eyes on you but he was busy on his own trying to take down as many Titans as he can. There was something about the amount of Titans coming in their direction, like they were being told to all come here at the same time and that made Levi uneasy, maybe you were right about the hunch.
You had dropped the dull blades, putting new ones in and as the sweat gathered on your forehead, you leaped towards another Titan but this one was acting more different than the others.
He was far more intelligent and you had been distracted for a mere second until his large hand had grabbed onto you in an instant, in less than a second he had squeezed you enough to crack a few bones in your small body causing a loud scream of agony left your parted lips.
Levi’s head snapped towards you, the fear washing over his face and he had jumped, using the ODM gear to try to reach you fast enough but deep in his mind he had known he wouldn’t make it.
“Y/N!” He shouted, making your head turn towards him while the blood had slid down the side of your face.
Your vision began to blur, your eyes meeting the Titans large ones as he stared at you and you felt like everything was going in slow motion. His mouth opened, giving you a view of his big teeth and in that one minute, you knew it you were in a situation you wouldn’t get out of.
His hand had crushed you harder, making your body completely numb and a gush of blood splash your face and the Titan had let his grip on you go as you started to fall, you were too weak to use the gear attached to your waist and you couldn’t even focus your eyes on anything.
Levi had sliced the Titans nape, his eyes on you as you fell and he tried to dive to you, shooting the hook up in the Titans body to stable himself. Your eyes met his as tears began to sting his eyes, everything was coming to a reality.
I won’t make it, I won’t make it, I won’t make it.
Levi repeated to himself in his head, reaching his arms out towards you and he had thought of the last minute resort. He didn’t want to but, it was the only option to not let you land on the hard ground that would definitely kill you instantly.
He grunted, shooting the other hook down and watched it slice through your shoulder, making him wince at the sight of it but it prevented you from hitting the ground and you hung on the wire, slowly going in and out of consciousness.
Levi landed on the ground, quickly grabbing you and ripping the hook out from your shoulder, looking behind him as he saw the Titans come closer.
“Levi, you need to get on the wall!” Erwin shouted towards him and he glanced down at you, not wanting to move your body anymore considering how crushed and beaten it was.
But he managed to shoot up the wall, carefully laying you down once he made it to the top. Your eyes couldn’t focus on anything, even the moon was a blur to you until Levi’s face came into your view, the weak smile on your face made him panic.
“Hey, are you okay? Can you feel what’s broken? Can you move your legs? Arms?” He rushed out, half of it you couldn’t even hear, it was like he was far away whispering to you.
“Lev,” You choked out, your body completely paralyzed and your eyes closing and opening repeatedly.
“Y/N, please, move something for me.” He was convinced you were paralyzed, shit, he was convinced that you were dead and your brain was still functioning for the last time.
“Fuck, hey, Y/N, don’t close your eyes, keep them on me.” You never seen Levi this scared but your brain still couldn’t fully processed why he was scared and why he was panicking. was something happening?
You opened your eyes again, keeping them on his and your weak broken arm had moved slightly, just to reach up and grab a hold of his face. You were clueless and he could tell that this may be your last moments and your brain was tricking you into thinking you were fine so you wouldn’t go out in pain.
Levi’s face had been full of blood mixed with tears, his hand gently grabbing your wrist while the other had brushed the loose strands of hair from your face. He should’ve trusted your hunch, he knew you always had a good feeling about things but he was stupid, he wanted this plan to go good and now look at you, dying before his eyes and he couldn’t do a goddamn thing about it, you were too far from the walls, you were too far from a real doctor.
“Levi, why are you crying?” You mumbled, your thumb swiping across his cheek to wipe them away and you frowned at how upset your boyfriend looked.
“It’s nothing,” He lied, giving you a pained smile and he leaned down to place a quick kiss on your forehead.
“Are you sure? You can tell me anything, Lev.” You assured him, placing your palm on his warm flushed cheek and he couldn’t help but choke on his own sobs.
“I just,” He started off, closing his mouth as he tried to put himself together just for you but it was damn near impossible to control his sobs that formed a big lump in his throat.
“I love you so much, don’t forget that, please.” His breath was shaky, everything around them had frozen still.
He had completely forgotten about the Titans, his main focus on you as he tried his best to make you as comfortable as possible but deep down he was dying inside, hating himself for not being able to help you or take you back home.
“I love you just as much, Levi.” Another weak smile spread across your face before you started to choke up blood, letting him know it was nearing time.
“Levi?” You coughed again, still clueless on your surroundings until it had suddenly clicked in your brain.
His sobs had gotten louder and more obvious, the pain written across his face and the way he was repeating I love yous and placing kisses on your hand and on your face.
I’m dying?
You thought to yourself, furrowing your eyebrows and looking back up at your broken down boyfriend. He looked like a frightened little boy, latching onto your body tighter and held you in his lap, not being able to handle his emotions as they spilled out in front of you.
“Yea?” He barely whispered, cupping your cheek as your head laid against his arm as he held you close to him.
“Don’t be upset, please.. those cadets out there, they need you.”
“But I need you,” A whimper slipped past his lips and you couldn’t help but feel your heart break inside your chest.
“I’m always here, I always will be here. I’m not leaving you, Lev.” He stared at you, taking in uneven breaths as he shook his head.
“Levi, look at me.” Your voice was starting to crack and your body started growing cold. Levi was beginning to notice as he made eye contact with you, his bottom lip trembling.
“I have never loved anyone as much as I love you. I just wanted you to know that you made me happier than I’ve ever been in a long time.” You admitted, another big cough of blood had came up, burning your throat in the process.
You started to have trouble taking full breaths, your vision becoming blurry once again but you made sure to keep them on Levi, you needed to at least. And as you laid there, taking your last few breaths you had heard one last I love you from Levi as well as his lips on your forehead before it had went dark.
Levi stared down at you for what felt like hours, your eyes closed and your chest stopped rising minutes ago. He knew you were gone but he didn’t want to believe it. He hated him, he absolutely hated himself.
As his tears flood his cheeks, he felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked up at Hange as she gestured him that it was ready to go.
He didn’t leave your body though, he risked carrying you back on his horse. He wanted to give you a proper burial, it’s what you deserved. He kept you in his arms as he rode back to the main wall they stayed behind, he had put his coat over your face, he couldn’t handle looking at you as you laid there lifeless.
Everyone was quiet, they knew not to speak to Levi or even comfort him in anyway, they decided to let him mourn and do what he thought was right for him and that was getting home.
Erwin had helped bury you by the river behind the wall, close to where the base was at. He knew you liked coming here, you two actually came here a lot so he thought the area was perfect for you.
After it was done, he sat beside your burial site by himself and looked up at the stars. He had cried too much to the point where he was now emotionless and his cold stare was up at the sky, not knowing how to really feel.
He had held your coat in his hands, his fingers running over your badge that was stitched on and he closed his eyes, just for a second so he could see your face in his thoughts.
But pain was still all he felt.
.
.
.
Bruuuuh when I tell you I am crying over my own imagine—
I’m so sorry for anyone that reads this lmao
Send requests tho🤧
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#levi ackerman fanfic#levi ackerman imagine#levi ackerman imagines#levi ackerman x reader#levi fanfic#levi imagines#levi imagine#levi x reader#levi Ackerman#aot levi#aot imagines#levi headcanons#aot headcanons#aot fanfic
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Oh Salem, the panicked Keigo idea just speaks to my mean little gremlin heart. I want to see the guy trained to keep calm and cool lose his shit over losing his s/o. RIP his handlers if they try to slow him down. I want to see the relief when he finds them and the reckoning for the people dumb enough to try. This. This is my bedtime snack.
so this is less of reckoning, more relief. soft. ive been thinking about this a LOT and i feel like <3 poor keigo would be ruined:
heres a wittle drabble for your thoughts
warnings: kidnapped reader, descriptions that may trigger claustrophobia (light, just a cave setting), insults in a not fun way, hurt/comfort baby
You were so cold.
The ‘cell’ you were in was more of a hovel, a small hole dug into the elaborate cave system you found yourself trapped in.
You weren’t sure for how long. There was no sun, only a guard that came and went with your meager meals and stale bottle of water. He and the other villains that had captured you spit vitriol and profanity like it was their duty to grind their verbal heels against your fragile psyche.
You tried to block them out, curling up in a tight ball against the rough back wall of your cell. Ignorance was better than hearing their profanities.
The worst part was that you weren’t really sure what was going on. Other than that it had something to do with Keigo, considering you were exclusively referred to as “the number 2′s brain-rotted whore”.
Once again, you tried not to listen.
...
You awoke to the sounds of chaos.
Shouting, crashes, explosions--
The walls of your prison shook as you scramble to stand, smashing your head into the low ceiling as you did.
Your vision spun as your staggered to the rusty bars, bracing yourself and hopelessly tugging as you had so many times before.
There was a crash particularly close, bits of debris falling from stone tunnels, frail support beams falling.
No.
Your blood ran so cold, you couldn’t move. Your body went completely still at the bars as you switched between panic and rage. It wasn’t fair, none of it was, you didn’t even get to say fucking goodbye to him. No last words, you’d been plucked from the street on your commute however long ago.
Keigo had left early that morning too, letting you sleep in with a kiss to the forehead instead of his normal heapings of sleepy, dawn-time affections. You’d been clinging to those sleepy, half-memories as anchor over the days in the cramped caves.
And, in the end, that was all you would have. Cloudy recollections of Keigo’s raspy morning voice as the caves around you began to shift and crumble.
Tears rolled down your cheeks as you tugged at the bars, trying fruitlessly to get past them. Frustration made your hands sweat and fear made them shake as they became littered with small cuts.
With the next crash, just as close, a vibrant blur of red whizzed past your cell. The shock and gust from its speed sent you jolting back, a hand clasping over your heart.
“... Keigo?”
You hadn’t even realized you said it aloud.
Not until the blur, feathers, a bundle of a maybe thirty returned, hovered and spun in front of the bars.
“Keigo?”
The feathers shuddered.
It felt like you were dreaming.
“KEIGO!”
You practically screamed, jolting against the bars. Though it wasn’t him, not really, he’d hear you through the feathers. One of them spilled through the bars, pressing to your chest and pushing you away as the rest of the warm sharpened and began to beat on the thick padlock.
Something about your bodily state must’ve changed, as the feather at your face moved to under your chin, sweeping over your jaw in a small motions.
...
Even from afar, Keigo was trying to comfort you.
When he’d felt you on the end of one of the feather swarms he’d sent into the caves, he thought he’d imagined it. The quiet hesitance with which you practically gasped his name was so fucking soft, he almost missed it.
But, he didn’t, thank fucking god.
The villains had been smart, corralling their captives (beyond just you, unsurprisingly. The string of disappearances over the weeks prior had all been linked. There were at least a dozen other lovers and family members of heroes tucked away into the mountain side with you.)
Hence, it was a whole operation to retrieve you all, with some of the most pissed off, downright enraged heroes leading the charge and preceding investigation.
And Keigo?
He’d been at the front of it.
HIs PA had to convince him to get a few solid hours of sleep every few days, in an actual bed, rather than on the floor of his office, or one of the many conference rooms the rescue team was occupying.
He’d been wasting away, quietly, but he hardly noticed. Food was secondary, drinking was a burden, and his other bodily needs were just holding him back. He had a singular goal--
To find you.
He’d torn up the skies and the earth for just a trace of you, after you’d been taken. And finally, he found it, in the side of a fucking mountain, and an operation was launched to get all of the taken back.
Problem was it was a fucking mountain. A cobbled together base for the villains made of old mine tunnels and shafts, and organic caves.
And infuriatingly, Keigo and his wings were too damn big to properly navigate them. So, even if you were found, he wouldn’t be there. He couldn’t be there to tell you that everything was okay.
He couldn’t guarantee your safety by his own hands, and it fucking hurt.
That being said, his feathers had done a good enough job.
He could feel your heart hammering as you neared the entrance.
And then Keigo saw you.
...
You stumbled from the blown out opening, a flurry of feathers on either side. The brawl was somewhere else in the cave, shut out from your mind as you followed the tugs and touches of the plumes.
And as you felt the rays of setting sun hit your cheeks, you caught sight of Keigo.
Before you could even open your mouth, and breath the sigh of relief you needed to, or cried his name like you wanted to, Keigo was on you, scooping you up and away from the shuddering caves.
His grip was so tight, it hurt, but neither of you cared. Your arms had looped behind his head, burying themselves in his greasy hair as you hid your face in his neck. Keigo’s hands were shaking as they held you close to him, not wavering even when you returned to the stable, safe ground below. It teemed with heroes and medics, but no one dared to interrupt or get between the two of you.
They’d all seen how wrecked Hawks had become in pursuit of finding his partner.
Keigo lowered the two of you to the ground, all feathers returning and making his feathers thick and broad once more. They rose and curled around the two of you, sealing the world away.
Your mouth felt too dry as you tried to sit up, but Keigo wouldn’t let you. He kept a firm hand on your hip as he tore off one of his gloves with his teeth, keeping you in place in front him.
When you tried to shift, he gathered you by your waist and crushed you to him. HIs chest shuddered and his shoulders quaked with the force he was wrapping you, and you returned it all, as much as you could.
“P-please,” Keigo’s voice broke. “I just gotta hold you for awhile, o-okay, Dove? You’re s-safe now. I’ve got you.”
And he did.
You pressed your cracked lips to his cheeks, lungs going tight as you wrestled for one of his clammy hands to hold.
“I-I know,” You sniffled, tears squished between your cheeks. You pressed your interlocked fingers to your lips, choking on a sob of pure relief. Whatever kisses you had planned to grace his knuckles with were swallowed elsewhere.
Keigo pulled your face to his, hands and mouth hungry as he desperately kissed you, finally, nothing like the fleeting ones you both clung to while cruelly apart. It was messy, sloppy, but ringing with sweetness as Keigo sputtered and nipped at your lips.
“’M sorry,” He breathed, barely pulling away before slotting your lips together once more.
As much as you wanted to reply, remind him that this wasn’t his fault, you words were too gummy and jumbled for anything meaningful.
So, you both settled for touch.
You stroked over each other’s sunken in eyes and dark circles. Keigo nipped at your dry lips, while you tasted the staleness of his breath. His bare hands braced against your back from just under the hem of your shirt, feeling the deep chill in your skin and the residual dirt and grime.
You finally mustered up some words, the mix of so many needs and desires that needed sating.
“K-Keigo?” You lingered as close as you could, craving the heat and mingling of your breaths. “I-I want to go home.”
His breath caught and his grip got tighter still.
“Can we go home?” You asked, soft and breaking as you fell into the safety of his arms.
“Y-yeah,” Keigo pressed his teary cheeks to the top of your head, letting out a final shaking breath of relief. Keeping his words firm as firm as his touch, he put every ounce of ease that he could offer into his words:
“Let’s go home, dove.”
#briggsgottdiggs#salem writes#hawks x reader#hawks#uwu#a wittle hurt/comfort for this early morning#drabble
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Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 6
Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language, brief violence, and a line that hints at past physical abuse (depending on how you choose to interpret it) Warnings: Mild TW for implied/referenced abuse Notes: Okay so this was supposed to be somewhat therapeutic? But it ended up taking longer to get to that part than I intended, so... Don't worry though, next chapter will be fluffy and also involve more, like, actual Daniela scenes. Previous Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2 Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco
Chapter 6: Elegy
(Elegy: A piece of music in the form of a lament)
When you dream, you do not dream of being locked in a tower, awaiting a kindly knight to come save you. When you dream… you dream of your old home, infested with monsters, nearly unrecognizable. Of being forced to flee, leaving everything you loved behind. Of escaping to a remote, quaint little village, only to end up trapped once again, as friendly faces morph into gaping maws and fangs dripping red. When you dream, it is less a nightmare, more memories retouched, covered in a fresh coat of paint.
Waking up is but a brief source of comfort. One hand goes to your head, rubbing gently, as if you could wipe away all traces of your past. A quick glance around your shared room leaves you confused, but serves as a welcome distraction. Though there are six beds in the room, yours is the only occupied one, the others having all been vacated and made presentable. The only explanation that fit with what you knew was that everyone had gotten up, and gotten to work, without waking you. Panic filled you as you connected the dots, knowing that missing work was a death sentence.
Rushing, you rise to your feet, throwing your dresser open to search for fresh clothes. While the castle’s staff was almost entirely female, the Dimitrescu family didn’t enforce traditional gender presentation, allowing maidens to choose whether to wear a dress or a button-up and trousers. Remembering the wound on your neck, you pause, glancing in the dorm’s singular mirror to inspect your injury. Most of the blood had rubbed off in your sleep (and would likely be a nightmare to clean from the sheets). There were, however, a few spots where dried blood mingled with the protective scab. Considering how late you already were, you didn’t believe you would have time to clean up.
As much as you hated the thought, the best you could do was go for a button-up, hoping the collar would hide the worst of your disastrous appearance. Your hair was another matter entirely, far messier than it normally was, and you struggled to brush/comb it enough to be mildly presentable. Good thing Daniela won’t see me today, you think, remembering her insistence on skipping today’s lesson.
Then you remember the rest of your conversation with her; the yelling, being dragged to your feet, and the pain in her eyes. For a moment you feel woozy, pausing in the middle of buttoning your shirt. Your eyes focus on a spot on the now-closed dresser… and suddenly you wish you had paid more attention when you first woke up. There’s a note stuck to the furniture, clearly addressed to you.
Heard you had some trouble yesterday. We’re just glad you’re alive! A certain someone has been a lot nicer since you started playing the piano, and we’re grateful. To show that, we decided to split your morning duties among ourselves, so you can sleep in. If you’re reading this, then it’s still before 4 AM. Feel free to just relax for a while, or even get some more sleep! We’ll be by to make sure you’re up eventually.
Sincerely,
Daphne, Rosalia, Ygritte, Alexandra, Juniper, and Riley
“I… have… freetime?” You mumbled, still a little drowsy, but now also shocked. This was a complete first for you. Maybe even a first among the servants! Sure, you had been given breaks before, but having a couple hours to do whatever you wanted? No one had ever pulled strings like this for you before. It made your chest feel warm, and you just about forgot the whole mess with Daniela. “I’ll have to find a way to pay them back, even if they think they’re paying me back.” With that said you relaxed a little, no longer rushing getting dressed, though still leaving your neck the way it was. You figured you’d stop by one of the maidens’ restrooms before you officially started your shift.
In the meantime, you knew exactly what you’d be using this time for: finding those damn piano books you had been promised!
-----------------------------------------
“Let’s see… dust, more dust, a dead spider, even more dust, and- oh shit, the spider is not dead,” you said, barely holding in a yelp as the arachnid scurries away from you. If you had known the attic would be so unclean, you might not have bothered to come up here. So far your targets had alluded you without giving so much as a hint towards their location. The library had seemed a likely location, but you had heard Daniela’s voice within, and anxiety had sent you dashing away. Up here, in an area clearly used for storage above all else, was the next best guess, as far as you were concerned. Still, you hadn’t seen anything worth your time yet.
Just insects, really. Not even terribly interesting ones. Well, there had been a shiny beetle of some sort, but it had crawled into a crack in the wall mere seconds after you saw it. Other than that, though, nothing but creepy crawlies. Creepy flyers?... Both, for sure. One fly in particular kept buzzing around you, weirdly interested in what you were doing.
Somehow you didn’t understand what that meant until a firm hand had wrapped itself around your neck. The grip was tight, putting more than enough pressure to make your vision blur. Thankfully, or perhaps unfortunately, the culprit didn’t intend to just choke you out. Instead they lift you and toss you aside- casually, at that. You hit the wall with a terrible crashing sound, certain to leave bruises, and narrowly avoid toppling into a stack of heavy crates. So much for enjoying some free time, you think. Stunned for several seconds, you find yourself left helpless as your attacker approaches.
“You’re not allowed to be up here,” a voice snarled, familiar enough to leave you terrified. Of course you had to run into the most violent of the Dimitrescu sisters. “Looking for a way out, hmm? Or are you stupid enough to think we’d leave a weapon where a wretched thing like you could find it?” Cassandra asked, pausing only to send a swift kick your way. A grunt escapes you, leaves you coughing, but it doesn’t hurt as bad as hitting the wall. Despite wanting to curl up and give in, you tried to drag yourself to your feet. Surprisingly, Cassandra makes no move to stop you, perhaps enjoying the sight of you struggling.
“Lady… Daniela… gave me permission,” you said between painful breaths. By the time you’re back on your feet, the vampire before you is watching you with narrowed, albeit curious, eyes. Normally it would take a lot of courage to face her. But you’re exhausted, in pain, and you’ve taken nearly as much hurt from someone who called themselves your lover. It’s not brave to stare down Cassandra, it’s foolhardy. It’s idiotic, really, and yet you find yourself unable to care. “I’m just looking for a couple piano books I’ve been told about, so I can use them to help teach Lady Daniela.”
“Oh? You’re her instructor?” Cassandra asked, a strange smile overtaking her expression. Something in the atmosphere has shifted, dangerously, but you can’t figure out why. Clueless to your self-betrayal, you nod in response. Instantly Cassandra’s smile turns into an open-lipped snarl, and she reaches out to grab you by the shirt, this time slamming you into the wall with her own hands. “Then you’re the reason she kept me up yesterday, crying non stop! I’m going to rip you apart, you vermin.”
The look in her eyes is, most definitely, the scariest thing you had ever seen. It’s feral, inhuman, and unstoppably determined. But when tears fall from your eyes, it’s not because you know you’re about to die. No, it’s because the last thing you think you’ll ever hear is the news that your partner had been sobbing for hours… and that you were the reason why. Your heart aches, both physically and emotionally, as you brace yourself for the bloody end.
Instead, the grip on your clothes loosens. You don’t dare open your eyes to see why.
“What the fuck do you want, sis?” Cassandra asked, sounding like she had turned her head away from you. Before you know it you’ve been let go, and you slide to the ground, too surprised to hold yourself steady. When you look up, you see an irritated Bela pulling Cassandra away from you, whispering something you can’t quite hear. They argue for a minute, under their breath, keen on keeping you out of the loop. Eventually the younger of the two storms away, but not before making a dent in the wall with her fist.
“What a child,” Bela said, rolling her eyes at the display. Then she’s walking back towards you, extending a hand in an offer of assistance (one you gladly accept). “That girl has the foresight of a magic eight ball, I swear. If she had actually killed you… ugh, I can hardly stand to imagine how inconsolable Daniela would become. Then I’d have two insufferable sisters. Regardless, do tell me why you thought it would be a good idea to come up here unaccompanied? It is normally off limits for servants, after all.”
“I-I, well… I mean, firstly thank you for saving me, I had no idea-” Bela holds a finger up in a ‘shut up’ motion, then puts it away as soon as you pause- “right, you don’t care. Look, I was just trying to find the piano books that Lady Dimitrescu mentioned, but I’ve looked all over and I can’t find them, so I should really just go,” you explain, eager to get out of the attic. To your surprise, Bela gives you an odd look before turning away. Then she takes no more than five steps, shifts to the side, and opens an old cabinet. Inside you can see a dozen books of sheet music, notably from several different decades, all worn but still in decent condition. “How did-?... I thought I checked there.”
“Well, you must have been distracted. Nonetheless, you know where they are now, and you owe me twice over. With that in mind… come with me. We have things to discuss,” Bela commanded, walking away before you could protest. All you can do is grab the sheet music, tuck it under one arm, and follow her to who-knows-where.
-----------------------------------------
“I’ll have to have you make my tea more often,” Bela mused, letting the mug keep her hands warm. The two of you were sitting in some sort of study, a room that you had never been inside before. From what you could tell it belonged solely to the eldest Dimitrescu daughter. Inside were several shelves, each filled with well bookmarked collections, a desk next to a massive window, a couple simple chairs, and a few instrument cases. All in all it was an aesthetically pleasing room, organized but not exactly neat. You could certainly imagine Bela spending entire days in this chamber. “Now, why do you think I brought you here?” Her voice brings your focus back into the present moment, as well as sends a spike of anxiety through you.
“Based on what nearly got me killed earlier… Does it have to do with Daniela crying?” You asked, doing your best to indicate just how bad you felt about the subject. No matter how cruel she could be, you did honestly care about Daniela, and even wanted a real, healthy relationship with her. Desire, or willingness, wasn’t the root of the problem by any means. Something told you that Bela understood this, maybe even respected you for it.
“Guess there’s more in that pretty head of yours than air and symphonies, hmm?” Bela replied, laughing a little as she did. It was a far nicer sound than Cassandra’s maniacal giggling, for sure. “Now, I don’t know all the details about what happened- just that there was an argument, clearly a bad one, and Daniela barely made it through dinner before locking herself in her room. Luckily for you, our mother doesn’t seem to know about your little ‘fight’. She’s not sure what upset Dani, and I doubt my sister would tell her, so your secret is safe. Assuming that I blackmailed Cassandra well enough, that is. Anyway, I can’t help you, and by extension my sister, if I don’t know the full story. In case it wasn’t clear, that’s your cue to start talking.”
You’re surprised, admittedly, by a number of things. But Bela seems impatient, so you go over the details of the previous night with her, occasionally pausing to let her ask questions. The whole time her focus is on you, unwavering. There’s also a noticeable lack of judgement in her expression, even when you voice your regret about how you handled the situation, and what is there seems directed more towards Daniela than yourself. Once you finish, Bela releases a deep sigh. One of her hands goes to rub her forehead as if warding off a migraine.
“Well, I can’t say I’m terribly surprised, as much as I wish I could. Daniela’s always had her head in the clouds, and it’s left her tripping over her own feet more than once. Still, this is certainly one of her bigger messes…” Bela said, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’m going to have to talk to her about this, aren’t I? There’s no way she’s going to process this correctly on her own.” This time she seemed to be talking to herself, gaze locked on her tea as if it might suddenly offer to speak to Daniela in her place. When the tea stayed silent, understandably, she returned her focus to you. “You seemed upset, earlier, about this ridiculous situation. I am going to assume, from that, you are genuinely interested in my dear sister. Normally, this would be the part where I drain you of all blood, and possibly keep your skull as a memento... mori. Yours would look lovely on a window sill, I think.”
She pauses, head tilting a little to the side, clearly evaluating your artistic value.
“However, Daniela appears to care about you, far more than her usual fleeting infatuations. So, for now, I have decided not to eviscerate you, you’re welcome,” Bela cooed, teasingly, enjoying the way you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Still, you were glad that you would apparently be surviving the day. “So I’m going to give you some advice, which you will take, and you won’t even owe me anything extra for this. Daniela is in love with the mere concept of love- and she has been for as long as I can remember. Romance novels are practically the only books she reads. It’s… embarrassing, truly. More than that, I get the impression that she couldn’t even begin to describe what love actually feels like. She’s digested so much of that written drivel that it warped her senses. Of course, the, ahem, situation we find ourselves in, here at the castle, has undoubtedly added to this effect.
“To get to the point, Daniela’s terribly, hopelessly clueless when it comes to things like what she wants from you. And so I take it upon myself, as her older sibling, to ensure that you understand. Moreso, that you are not dissuaded. If this is an actual chance for her to experience real romance, then it could make her happier than I’ve ever seen her,” Bela explained. The look in her eyes was incredibly soft, to the point where it made you realize just how much this odd little family cared for each other. “Don’t give up, don’t let her occasional infuriating antics push you away. Given enough time… I think the two of you could, I suppose, compliment each other quite nicely. But if you break her heart? I will pull yours from your chest and eat it raw. Understood?” Gulping, you nodded quickly, ignoring the feeling of heat rushing to your cheeks. It was one thing for Bela to want her sister to be happy, but another thing entirely for her to acknowledge your “suitability” for the position. “Good. Now return to whatever it is you maidens normally do. I have a sister to talk sense into.”
-----------------------------------------
Hours later, you stand alone in a display room, dusting various relics from bygone times. A trophy here, a bizarre art piece there, strange, unlabeled tools you can’t quite imagine are for wine-making. It’s a fascinating collection, really. But your mind is focused on other, far softer things. All you can think about is what Bela had told you, about how Daniela really is interested in you, and how she thought the two of you could make it work. After the chaos earlier in the day, this was exactly what you needed. Just some time to yourself, working quietly, thoughts all to yourself. Even your bruises bother you less, the pain fading out into the background. Considering where you are, though, it is not at all surprising that your peace cannot last. As soon as you finish your task you move towards the exit.
The door swings open, outwards, at your touch, only to reveal a familiar figure reaching for the doorknob. Both of you gasp, taken by surprise, before your gazes meet. Of course it’s Daniela. Who else would you bump into right now?
“I thought about what you said,” she blurts, suddenly, eyes wide and hands shaking. “We need to talk, yeah?”
#daniela dimitrescu#daniela dimitrescu x reader#resident evil: village#re8 village#cliff hanger oops#had fun writing this one
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alright here is a angst/potential comfort prompt. C!Dream slowly giving up on escaping and refusing to eat. C!Sam really couldn't care less and his health just gets worse. Ponk (the only doctor) just checks on Dream out of curiosity and gives him food and tries to help
Tumblr User, Spacecowboystuff, I jumped out of bed to write this!! I tried my best
Warnings: Starvation, neglect, abuse of authority, Suicidal Ideation, Suicide attempt, implied torture
----
It's been a while- weeks or even months had passed, Dream didn't know. All he knew was to count the days was by the number of times Sam brought him potatoes, but the days blurred after his recent attempt of escape and the Warden stopped giving him food.
"Please," Dream croaked, he pleaded into the camera hidden in the opposite corner of him. "Sam!"
Days began to blur in a sick mix of blood and hunger, he screamed for Sam when Quackity first visited, but now he wished for death to come and take him.
he laid in his on his side, his feet pressed against his wooden chest, he mindlessly watched the crying obsidian drop next to his head. He liked to watch it drip, it was the only peaceful thing in his cell, and if he tries hard enough then he can pretend it's rain.
His throat had gone dry, the sink water was polluted by his own blood and his respawn pool filled with ripped clothing and grease when he would dunk his head in an attempt of ending it all, but it was never canon.
His attention from the purple liquid shifted. He eyed the the figure standing on the moving platform, he sucked in a painful breath and prepared for another day of torture.
"Dream?" the figure asked. Dream sat up quickly, his vision swayed.
"P-ponk?" he asked in disbelief, his voice cracked and ruined.
"Oh, Gods." Ponk ran over to him, his bed clinked with supplies. He fell on his knees and began working on him, he gave him regen potions and food to heal. Dream consumed them greedily. The regen a refreshing bittersweet flavor that flooded his mouth and he welcomed it.
Ponk did the best he could to patch up any open wounds, he told him that it'll be okay, he stitched a bad gash on his left bicep, when Dream noticed it.
"Your arm... how did-" he cleared his throat. "How did that happen?" he motioned to Ponk's new mechanical arm.
Ponk stopped and look down at it in pained disgust, "You won't believe what people would do for a book." he smiled sadly.
But he believes
he believes.
#c!dream#c!ponk#dsmp dream#dsmp ponk#dream smp fic#> tw starvation#> abuse of authoirty#> neglect#> suicidal ideation#> suicide attempt#> implied torture#> Nemo Writings!#> nemo ask!#dreblr#dreamwastaken#dropsbyponk#c!dream sympathizer#c!dream angst
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Voire Dire
Rafael Barba x Reader. Warnings: implied fem masturbation, slightly dub-con at the end (kissing) but reader is very enthusiastic. WC: 3,339
It was an ordinary morning on an ordinary day. It was early and the eighth floor was just beginning to fill up. You had already been in the office for well over two hours, working on a motion and you were already running against the clock. As people milled about, settling in, you grabbed your noise canceling headphones and slipped them on over your ears.
You frowned when you realized your coffee cup was empty. You were in need for more coffee but did not have the time for it. As you let out an irritated sigh, you noticed the head of the junior ADA department, Sonny Carisi, stride in. As he passed by your desk, a brown paper bag plopped onto the desk. You slipped off your headphones and swiveled around.
“And what is this, Dominick?” You teased, as you reached into the bag.
“Bear-claw. Coffee - light and sweet.” Sonny called out as he settled into his office.
“God bless ya’ Sonny. You answered my prayers.” You called out, before blowing on the cup. It was so hot, steam rose from the small opening and the heat pricked your fingers. “How did you know?”
“A little birdie named Marjorie.” He replied. He stuck his head out the door. “She told me you were coming in early and if I recall anything from our Fordham days, it’s that you always forget to take care of yourself when you’re under the wire.”
You gave him a pointed look, which then softened into a smile. “Thank you, Sonny. Much appreciated. And when you win that Mickey Davis case, I am going to take you out for a celebratory drink.”
“Don’t start, we don’t even know what will happen. He may plead out.” Sonny replied. “I gotta go - meeting with the boss actually on this. Get back to work.”
“Yes sir!” You mocked saluted, before swiveling back to your computer. Time was ticking after all.
**
The rest of the morning seemed to pass in a blur. Again, nothing extraordinary happened. And as you electronically filed your motion, you spun around in your seat, with your arms in the air, in silent victory.
As you faced your desk, you saw Sonny walking back down to his office with a very handsome, distinguished looking man behind him. It was clear the two of them were having some kind of heated discussion. And you couldn’t care less. Because the man he was with, was the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes on. He wore dark jeans and blue and pink checkered shirt with a dark grey peacoat. His hair was perfectly coiffed, nary a hair out of place. And he had a meticulously groomed beard. His hair and his beard were dark, with salt and pepper flicked through. You had a sudden urge to tug on his beard and you wondered what it would feel like against your skin, as you slid your tongue into his.
The man sauntered past your desk and you looked up, feeling a flutter shoot through you as your eyes met. You caught a whiff of the cologne he wore - faint whiffs of vetiver and bergamot - and you closed your eyes, enjoying the olfactory overload. You so badly wanted to turn around, but you could not. So you settled for leaning to the side in an attempt to eavesdrop.
“You know who that is, right?” You jumped in your seat slightly and looked up at Marjorie, your co-worker, and fellow ADA.
“No. But he is nice to the eyes.” You smirked.
“That’s Rafael Barba.” Marjorie hissed.
You sat up straight. “That’s him? The Rafael Barba?” You scanned the office and sure enough, people were whispering and talking to each other as they looked behind you.
You couldn’t hear everything, but you could glean whatever they were talking about was not regular old shop talk.
You heard something about a ‘nice view’ and ‘had to move the Xerox machine and four filing cabinets just to get the desk in,’ and you snorted.
“Yeah, the one who k-worded a baby,” Marjorie continued, as she sat on the corner of your desk. She ripped off a remnant of your long-forgotten bear claw and popped it in her mouth.
“He did not k-word a baby.” It was now your turn to hiss. “That baby was already dead. He… expedited its passing.”
“Well, regardless. No one has seen him since then. Last I heard he was working with The Innocence Project,” Marjorie replied, plucking another piece of the bear-claw.
The door swung open, Rafael turning to face Sonny. “I'm going for straight-up not guilty.” Rafael stormed past you, once more, a breeze blowing by as he did so - and with it, his cologne wafted once more and you felt the back of your neck prick. Arousal shot through you, starting between your thighs, but rising to make your breath hitch.
Marjorie hopped off your desk and dashed into Sonny’s office. You stood to do so, as Rafael as he stalked by. Your eyes met once more.
“Good morning,” Rafael acknowledged curtly. You felt your cheeks burn and you gave him a small smile, before following Marjorie.
**
Lunch had rolled around. You rapped on Sonny’s door. “Hey - want to grab lunch with Marj and I?”
“Nah, can’t. Barba’s taking the Mickey Davis case on and I need to prep,” Sonny replied. He sighed before dropping his head into his hands, groaning.
You shut the door quickly behind you and moved to lower the blinds in his office. “Hey - talk to me. Barba was your mentor, right?”
Sonny looked up at you and nodded. “Yeah, he was. He was the best ADA here - I mean, he took on cases others dodged. He taught me so much. And now… it’s like jedi master and padawan here.”
You grimaced. “Sonny, don’t sell yourself short. You are an excellent lawyer and you’ve got the chops. If anything, he should be the one who’s worried.”
Sonny guffawed in response. “Don’t quit ya’ day job, Y/N.”
You crossed your arms and cocked your brow. “Come on, pizza. On me. Let’s go.”
Sonny rolled his eyes and nodded. “Okay, okay. But not Marco’s. That place is not real Italian.”
“Whatever, pizza snob.” You laughed as you both walked out.
**
Time flew by. Sonny was at voire dire and you chewed on your thumbnail waiting for him to return. You decided to throw yourself into work in an attempt to keep your mind otherwise occupied.
When Sonny did eventually return, he looked defeated and worn. He shuffled back into his office, his shoulders hunched over. You waited a good minute before knocking on his office.
“How'd it go at voir dire?” You asked softly, as you knocked on his door. Sonny was chugging pepto-bismol and he grimaced as he turned to you. “It was the Rafael Barba show, charming and cherry-picking jurors for twelve straight hours.”
“Yeah, the office mill said he was a dog with a bone.” You shrugged, pulling a chair out and sitting.
Sonny laughed. “Yeah. Now get this - I'm looking at his witness list, and he tracked down AJ’s other foster kids, ACS employees, VA shrinks. How big of a staff does he have?”
You shrugged again. “I don’t know.”
Sonny gave you a look. “Dollars to donuts, I think it’s my old squad - Rollins, Liv, and Fin helping him out.”
“You don’t know that.” You interjected.
“It's fine. Barba was here before me. I know where their loyalties are,” Sonny replied.
“When's opening statements?”
“A day from tomorrow.” Sonny replied. “Which means I will be here all night prepping.”
“Do you want any help?” You asked.
“It’s fine - it’s late. You should go home. If there’s something, I’ll let you know.”
You nodded and bid him a good night, before heading home.
**
At home, you climbed into bed and tried to watch a repeat of your favorite procedural show but could not focus. You spent the entire commute home, replaying the events of earlier in the week when Rafael came by. He smelled so wonderful and when his eyes locked on yours, your heart skipped in a way that it hadn’t in a long time. Picturing his eyes… his beard… you became warm and a ripple of arousal coursed through you, causing the ache between your legs to intensify. You had a drawer full of toys that you knew you would help, but sometimes, your own fingers were best – you knew you better than any other toy could. You slipped your fingers down your sleep shorts and under the waistband of your underwear. It didn’t take much – as you suspected it would not – and when you came, it was Rafael’s name that escaped from your lips. The ache lessened – and, for now, it was enough.
**
Time flew and before you knew it, the case was winding up - or so you heard through the grapevine. That office leaked like a sieve. Your phone buzzed loudly one morning. You groaned and looked at the clock - you still had twenty minutes of sleep left. Yawning, you sat up and rubbed your eyes awake.
[Marjorie: Come meet us at court - closing arguments on the Davis case and we are all going down to root for Sonny]
You quickly wrote back: who’s we?
[Marjorie: A few of us from 8th. Come on!]
You bit your bottom lip and then hit two little letters: ok. You quickly showered, threw on your pants and an oversized sweater. You grabbed a pair of wedges and made your way uptown.
**
The case was intense and heated. Emotions were rising. You fidgeted in your seat as Sonny faced off with Rafael. In the end, the jury deliberated in six hours and found Mickey Davis guilty. He was charged with manslaughter two.
Sonny caught up with the group from the eighth floor in the gallery who all congratulated him on his big win. You half-listened and half kept an eye on Rafael, who was busy gathering his paperwork. He looked handsome in his black bespoke suit, now cleanly shaven. You frowned - the beard suited him. But it didn’t temper his handsomeness; with or without, it was as if he made your eyes burn. It also appeared to have turned him into a real-life Benjamin Button, so to speak. He appeared much younger than he did when he did that day in One Hogan Place.
Rafael turned again, and his eyes scanned the group in the back before his eyes settled on yours once more. You ducked your head, feeling embarrassed at having been caught and when you looked up at him, a smile had graced his face.
He began to head your way, tucking his briefcase under his arm. Your heart began to race and your palms were sweaty. You wracked your brain for a reason to leave but couldn’t come up with anything. And then Rafael was in front of you.
“Hi - you’re Carisi’s colleague?” Rafael asked as you were now afforded a close-up view. His eyes were the most intense seafoam green and you knew if allowed, you would drown in them.
“Uh - yes. My name is Y/F/N Y/L/N. I am a junior ADA.” You tripped over your words, feeling your cheeks burn. What was it about this man that renders me into a bumbling fool? you thought.
“Rafael Barba.” Rafael extended his hand and you took it, shaking it.
“Pleasure.”
“No, that’s all mine.” His eyes crinkled and a small smile graced his face. You felt your cheeks burn once more.
Sonny turned away from the group and faced you and Rafael. “We’re going to Rudy’s for a beer. Want to come? The squad is going to come.”
Rafael opened his mouth and paused, looking over at you. Feeling put on the spot, you nodded, going along. “Sure - a beer would be great.” You then turned to look at Rafael. “Coming with?”
Rafael nodded - wanting nothing more than to spend time with you - this creature who had enchanted him. He had to admit, he had hoped to see you more - but in his head, that meant an impromptu visit to the DA’s office, where he wasn’t necessarily well received any longer. Or, it meant asking Carisi - and he didn’t want to be grilled by the former detective. You were young - younger than him of course, but he couldn’t imagine you were that much younger - and at the same time he did not want to seem like a cradle robbing perv. The group dispersed outside, braving the elements of New York City. It was biting cold - the coldest day of the year - and the wind whipped around something wicked. You rubbed your gloved hands together as you all headed to Rudy’s. You and Rafael hung back, following the group, but at the same time, both knowing the route, having made the trek many times prior.
“So how long have you been with the DA’s office?” Rafael asked. Small, misty clouds emitted from your breaths as you chit-chatted.
“Two years. I was originally in Brooklyn, but I requested a lateral move.” You replied.
“That’s where I started too.” Rafael replied. A taxicab approached and Rafael waved his hand up and across from you, signaling to the car to slow down so that you two could cross. You didn’t miss how his hand cradled your back gently as you both crossed the street to the bar. Yout stomach flip-flopped in response.
**
The bar was empty, save for the group. Large colorful bulbs hung throughout, keeping in theme with the upcoming holiday. At the hightops, each table was outfitted with a miniature wreath with a candle in the middle. After a while, the squad from SVU also joined and everyone toasted Sonny on his victory. The corners of your lips twitched as Rafael said “To irony,” at Sonny’s response that they were just back where they started.
Rafael was engrossed in a conversation with Sonny’s former squad, and you watched him intently. You played with your napkin and wondered more about him and who he was. Sure, you had heard about the Householder case and how the prosecutor was acquitted - and sure, you had read some of his court briefs. But you had never thought in a million years that you would be so close to him. Many other former ADAs came to visit, but Rafael Barba never did. He had essentially dodged the office for years. You didn’t hear much of him, only in passing from Sonny while you were both in Fordham.
Hours went by, many drinks had been had. One by one, the group had dispersed, until it was just you, Sonny, Amanda, and Rafael. You all decided to move to a booth. You were slightly unsteady, having had too many glasses of wine and very little to eat. You knew in the morning you would be paying the price.
“Water for Y/N and fries for the table.” Amanda announced as she slid the food to the middle of the table, and the water towards you.
You plucked a fry from the table and tried to focus on what Amanda was talking about. Sonny made a quip and everyone laughed. You used the opportunity to sneak another glance towards Rafael. His sleeves were rolled up, showing off his well defined forearms. A sole finger traced the rim of his lowball glass, which was half-full. Your eyes were drawn to the Rolex on his wrist and you noticed the time.
“Oh, it’s late - I should get going,” you remarked, as you pulled Rafael’s arm close to your face, looking at the time more closely. “Sorry,” you murmur, releasing his arm. You stand and wobble once more, and Rafael stands, catching you.
“Good idea; it is late,” Rafael replied. “Let me just close out the tab.” Amanda and Sonny protested as they reached for their wallets and Rafael waved them off.
“I can go home with you honey.” Amanda offered.
You shook your head. “I’m fine.”
“Y/N, you know better than that; someone should go with you.” Sonny replied. “Amanda and I can.”
“Sonny you’re all the way uptown - I am all the way downtown. It’ll be fine.” You argued as you put your coat on.
Rafael returned, placing his wallet on the table momentarily. “What’s fine?”
“Me. Going home solo,” you replied. “But Amanda and Sonny think--”
“That you had too much to drink.” Sonny cut you off. “It’s not safe.”
“Sonny.” You pinched the bridge of your nose and you found yourself growing more impatient. “I am a big girl - I will send you a text when I get home.”
“Where’s home?” Rafael asked curiously.
“Brooklyn.” Sonny and you replied at the same time.
“Sonny’s right - someone should take you home.” Rafael countered.
“What if Barba takes you home?” Amanda asked, as she slipped her hat on. “Barba lives downtown - you don’t mind, do you counselor?”
“Not at all.” Rafael replied. “If that’s okay with Y/N.”
You sucked your bottom lip in. “Okay; Barba wins.”
“Great. Barba takes Y/N home and I’ll head up with Amanda,” Sonny declared.
**
The cab hadn’t even been going for ten minutes when Rafael found you asleep, resting your head on his shoulder. He didn’t want to move you - lest you lean on the glass and knock your head if the cab hit a pothole. He watched as the city blurred past him, a mix of lights and colors. You let out a small moan and snuggled closer to Rafael. Rafael threw his head back, resting against the headrest and let out a sigh.
The trip to Brooklyn was uneventful as there was little traffic and soon the cab pulled up outside the brownstone that was home to you. He nudged you softly, stirring you awake.
“We’re at your place.” He murmured and you smiled sleepily at him.
“Walk me to my door?” You asked, stifling a small yawn. Rafael nodded and requested the cab to keep the meter running. You grabbed your keys to unlock the door and turned to face him. You thanked him for going out of his way to accompany you home and Rafael gave you a small nod, telling you it was no big deal - better to be safe. He licked his lips and you felt a rush of bravery course through you - you’d later realize that was the alcohol - and did what was, up until then, a figment of your imagination.
You curled your fingers into his hair, since he was sans beard, and pulled him in for a kiss. Rafael was initially taken aback, freezing in place, but then he deepened the kiss. You moaned into his mouth, which he took as an invitation to deepen the kiss and slide his tongue into your mouth. His strong arms, closed around your back and pulled you tightly against him. You continued kissing for what seemed like eternity, but was only mere moments, when Rafael pulled away.
“I’m sorry.” He blurted. “You’re drunk. You can’t consent. I should not have done that.” He took a step back, regret was etched on his face.
Your face burned with embarrassment. “It’s fine. I … should go. Good night, Rafael.” You mumbled before unlocking the door and darting inside, not bothering to look back.
Rafael groaned, rubbing his hands with his face. It felt so wonderful to kiss you - but it was under all the wrong circumstances. He headed back to the cab and went home, replaying the kiss over and over in his mind, as if it were an endless loop.
He knew what he had to do.
Imagine your surprise when the following morning, when you headed into the office to put in some overtime, there was an email from one formerly disgraced ADA in your mailbox - asking you out for dinner.
You took a large drag of your coffee and then hit reply.
TBC.
***
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#rafael barba x reader#rafael barba imagine#rafael barba and reader#rafael barba and you#rafael barba x female reader#rafael barba fanfic
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know that it’s you (g.w.)
(ginny weasley x reader)
it only took seven years for you to get your happy ending.
warnings: mentions of death, light cursing, men, sarcasm, and no capitalization
word count: ~2.5k
a/n: first hp fic! hope i did okay- i tried my best to capture ginny’s character but it’s not perfect <3
format inspired by @ravenclawwriting ‘s masterpiece- “turning time”
title- hold on, flor
——
first year
the aura of confidence she gives off smacks you straight in the face when she passes by you on the platform.
not that you needed any help noticing her.
her flowing red hair caught your eye almost immediately.
oh how you wished to be her friend.
~~
“gryffindor!”
you let out a sigh of relief.
slowly you pick yourself up and walk to the table, where the pretty red headed girl is sitting.
she looks up and smiles at you, gesturing for you to take a seat next to her.
when you do, she sticks out her hand and introduces herself.
“ginny weasley.”
taking her hand, you do the same.
“y/n y/ln.”
~~
when ginny goes missing later that year, you blame yourself.
you should’ve noticed that she was getting quieter and quieter.
you should’ve noticed that she would be gone for hours.
you should’ve noticed.
when she disappears for a few days, she takes your heart with her.
so when harry fucking potter swoops in and saves her, you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, and it feels like your heart can finally beat normally again.
second year
now that you got her back, you were inseparable.
screw fred and george, you were the new duo at hogwarts.
just kidding, no one could beat the iconic mischief seeking twins, but you sure gave professors a run for their money.
the red headed girl always seemed to have something up her sleeve, and no matter good or bad, you followed her.
~~
that summer, you’re invited to the burrow for the first time.
the two of you share a room, and what started out as separate beds and shy company slowly turned into fleeting glances and lingering touches.
hand holding, cheek kisses and cuddling, all the “platonic” displays of affection.
and then, ginny invites you to the quidditch world cup.
you’ve never been a quidditch fan, but you’d go a thousand times over if she asked you.
really, you’d do a lot of things if she asked you.
third year
you can see her concern for harry when he gets drawn for the triwizard tournament.
it makes you want to rip his head off.
and then, slowly, you begin to notice it all.
how when you were constantly staring at ginny, her eyes followed a certain boy’s every move.
how she’s a flushed, nervous, bumbling wreck around him, so different from the confident and assured girl you knew.
it makes you want to rip his head off even more.
but you don’t know why.
harry’s always been a nice guy.
arrogant, sure, but a nice guy, certainly someone you shouldn’t hate.
so you ask hermione.
~~
the golden girl just laughs when you tell her.
“oh, my dear y/n, you’re just jealous.”
now you’re even more confused.
“jealous? why would i be jealous?”
hermione chuckles a little bit and looks up from her book.
“you fancy her y/n.”
you scoff a little at that.
“me? fancying ginny? no way!”
hermione rolls her eyes and motions for you to leave her to her studying, before mumbling quietly:
“no wonder you were sorted into gryffindor and not ravenclaw.”
~~
you’re determined to somehow prove hermione wrong.
so when seamus asks you to the ball, you consider accepting.
but then you think about ginny.
your sweet, beautiful ginny.
you tell him you’ll get back to him, before running across the school to the courtyard, where you know she’s at.
your question somehow makes it through the panted breaths and heaves.
“would you like to go to the yule ball with me?”
ginny’s face splits into a grin.
“i would love to.”
~~
when you see ginny at the ball, you have to remember how to breathe.
“you look stunning.”
ginny blushes a little at your compliment.
“so do you.”
your heart races in your chest at her words.
you clear your throat at the silence that follows and-
“so, shall we dance?”
you smile and nod graciously, taking her hand and following.
with one of her hands on your waist and the other tightly clasped in yours, hermione’s words flash in your mind.
“you fancy her y/n.”
your eyes meet and you can’t believe you’ve never taken the time to admire how much of a golden honey color they are.
but then.
of course.
“hey um- could i speak to you ginny?”
dean fucking thomas.
ginny lets go of you almost immediately.
she glances at you apologetically, and despite the nagging ache in your chest, you nod and let her go.
after she leaves with him, the rest of the ball passes in a blur, where you can’t focus on anything else except the tenuous strain of your heart.
maybe hermione was right after all.
fourth year
turns out hermione was right.
so very very right.
ginny had you wrapped around her finger.
and for the most part, this year wasn’t bad.
with the exception of dean of course.
when he comes into the picture, it shatters you.
but she couldn’t know that.
so you listened to her talk about him, biting back the i could treat you better from the tip of your tongue.
~~
despite the fact that ginny has a boyfriend, the two of you grow closer.
you’re both members of the DA, helping each other with spells and practicing in your free time.
“ugh gin it’s not working-“
ginny rolls her eyes at you.
“it’s not that hard y/nn, do you want to watch me do it again?”
you nod enthusiastically and ginny giggles a little.
“alright move aside then.”
you move and watch from the side, somehow ending up eyeing along her side profile rather than watching her hex.
eyebrows furrowed, lip bitten in concentration-
dear godric she’s so pretty-
“y/n are you even watching?!”
you shake your head and blush before stuttering out:
“u-uh, s-sorry could you d-do it again?”
ginny watches you with an amused smirk and takes a step in, closer to you.
“you’re kind of cute you know that?”
her finger tracing your jaw, she emphasizes the end of her sentence with a pop and a nose tap.
your mouth drops open, and all the blood in your body rushes to your cheeks.
ginny steps away and seeing that you were still frozen there, turns back and teases:
“aw come on y/n, the bat bogey hex isn’t going to learn itself now is it?”
merlin, this girl was going to be the death of you.
~~
when ginny tells you she broke up with dean, you want to go out and scream in happiness.
but instead, you stay put and say, “aw gin im so sorry, i’ll be here if you need me.”
you’re woken up later that night when ginny crawls into bed with you.
with her face buried in your neck and her hands wrapped loosely around your waist, you can’t help the smile teasing the corners of your lips.
it’s everything you’ve ever asked for.
fifth year
then, fifth year happens.
you could see harry and ginny growing closer and closer, and it felt like she was leaving you behind.
your weekly hogsmeade trips slowly became less and less intimate, as the golden trio began joining the two of you.
a butterbeer was poked at mindlessly with a straw by you at the three broomsticks, all while listening to ginny chat with harry, and ron chat with hermione.
it doesn’t surprise you when ginny and harry disappear together after a little while.
it doesn’t surprise you when ginny starts spending less time in your room, and more time in his.
it doesn’t surprise you when you spot ginny with her head on his shoulder one day.
it doesn’t surprise you, but it still stings.
it stings a lot.
sixth year
the golden trio is gone for almost the entirety of this year.
before they leave, harry breaks up with ginny, and she doesn’t react really.
she accepts it.
but you’re there for her even if she says she’s fine and she doesn’t need it.
then one day, she needs it.
~~
you walk into your room to see her sitting on her bed.
it takes you a second to realize she’s crying.
you’re by her side immediately.
“oh gin- what’s wrong?”
she doesn’t say anything, just turning to you and without a word, you wrap your arms around her.
and you stay like that for a while.
when she goes quiet, you whisper out:
“gin?”
and then you realize she’s fallen asleep.
you try to bite back your poorly contained smile, gently guiding the girl off your shoulder and onto your lap.
you softly tuck a loose, fiery red strand behind her ear, a blush lightly tinting your cheeks when she exhales softly in her sleep.
merlin, i love you.
your cheeks flush even more when she grasps the front of your robes, pulling herself even closer to you.
with your heart hammering in your chest, it’s a wonder ginny hasn’t woken up yet.
you pull out your transfiguration textbook quietly, and try your best to focus on the page, rather than the girl laying there on your lap.
it doesn’t work.
but for once, all is well.
~~
eventually, you get absorbed into your studies, distracted enough to miss the girl on your lap beginning to stir.
your brows are furrowed as you scribble down the last words of your essay, and you bring your quill up to your lips before ginny’s hand gently pushes them away, startling you.
“don’t do that, you’ll stain your teeth.”
you blush sheepishly and drop your hand.
“you’re awake.”
ginny smiles.
“well i’m talking to you aren’t i?”
you grin softly.
“i suppose you are.”
ginny rolls her eyes and sighs, her brown eyes locking with yours immediately after.
her hand comes up to tuck a loosed strand of hair behind your ear and suddenly, the air seems to thicken.
for a moment, neither of you move, too caught up in each other’s eyes.
when ginny’s eyes drop down to your lips you can hear your breath catch in your throat.
you feel yourself being pulled in by some invisible force, your eyes dropping down-
then neville knocks on the door, and just like that, the spell is broken.
“y/n- oh hey ginny.”
ginny sits up and darts away from you so quickly you would’ve missed it if you blinked.
“what’s up nev?”
neville shuffles nervously.
“sorry for catching you at a bad time- um it’s just that professor mcgonagall wanted to see-.”
“all right i’ll be there in a minute.”
neville nods and then, it’s back to the two of you.
it’s quiet for a moment before you both speak.
“you should-“
“i really-“
both of you stop and flush a little before you continue.
“i really should go see what that was about.”
ginny nods and gestures for you to leave.
and you do, not before taking her hand and pulling her up into a tight hug.
“i’ll see you later?”
ginny nods.
“yeah. later.”
~~
when the golden trio returns to hogwarts and all hell breaks loose, the two of you are separated.
in fact, you haven’t seen most of the weasleys since the war began.
you’re left alone with neville for the majority of the fight, and you spend most of it worrying about ginny.
one day when you’re just walking along the edge of the forbidden forest, you catch a glimpse of red hair on the opposite side of the field.
your breath catches in your throat.
as you get closer, you can tell who it is.
and then you start running.
~~
your body almost collides with hers as you wrap your arms around her.
at first, there’s relief.
“you’re here you’re here you’re-“
ginny shushes you and pulls you in tighter, drawing out the sob you tried to hard to keep down.
then the relief turns to anger.
and frustration.
you pull away from the hug abruptly and ginny sends a confused look your way.
“ginevra molly weasley! if you ever, ever do that again i’ll-“
“aw, seems like someone missed me.”
you scoff.
“don’t joke! i thought you were killed- gin you have no idea i was so worried- worried about where you were, what you did-“
the rest of your confession is cut off when ginny grabs your tattered tie, pulls you in, and kisses you.
it’s quick.
lips unmoving, it’s really more of a peck than a kiss.
but it still hit you the same way.
ginny pulls back abruptly when you don’t react, but taking the smile that graced your lips as a good sign, leans back in.
this time, you’re ready for her.
your arms wrap around her neck, her’s falling to your waist, and finally, you’re content.
it’s soft and sweet and then there’s tongue and lips and teeth and you really can’t believe this is happening-
“hey y/n! quit snogging my sister!”
ron’s exclamation startles you.
you flush red, and break the kiss, trying to pull away from ginny out of embarrassment, but she keeps an arm firmly attached to your waist.
hermione grins next to ron.
“about time you two. about time.”
~~
harry defeats he who must not voldemort in probably what is the most anticlimactic final battle ever.
but just like that,
the war’s over.
seventh year
propped against a tree, ginny runs a hand through your hair, the other tangled with yours in front of your chest.
“hey.”
ginny smiles softly down at you.
“hey to you too.”
“i love you.”
the red headed girl smiles and leans down to give you a soft kiss before replying.
“i love you too y/n.”
your smile is almost blinding, and out of pure happiness, you confess:
“i’ve loved you since third year gin, did you know that?”
the red headed girl almost looks surprised.
“i was gross third year.”
you scoff and mutter:
“you could never be gross.”
ginny just laughs and leans down again.
“i love you y/n. i really do. i’m sorry it took so long for me to realize.”
you look up at your girlfriend with pure adoration in your eyes.
with her lips on yours and fingers tangled together, it felt like the world was finally at peace again.
ginevra weasley was your happily ever after.
cheesy ending, but i loved writing this one.. i hope you guys like it too <3
#ginny weasley#ginny weasley x reader#ginny weasley imagine#ginny weasley x female reader#harry potter imagine#harry potter x reader#hp imagine#harry potter#hp series#ginevra molly weasley#ginny weasley x fem reader
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